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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/2864-h.zip b/2864-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a4a948 --- /dev/null +++ b/2864-h.zip diff --git a/2864-h/2864-h.htm b/2864-h/2864-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76f8eb5 --- /dev/null +++ b/2864-h/2864-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13163 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Trumpet-Major</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.headingsummary { margin-left: 5%;} + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Trumpet-Major, by Thomas Hardy</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Trumpet-Major, by Thomas Hardy + + +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 Trumpet-Major + + +Author: Thomas Hardy + + + +Release Date: October 18, 2007 [eBook #2864] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRUMPET-MAJOR*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>This etext was prepared by Les Bowler.</p> +<h1>THE TRUMPET-MAJOR<br /> +JOHN LOVEDAY</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">a soldier in +the war with buonaparte</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">and</span><br /> +ROBERT HIS BROTHER<br /> +<span class="smcap">first mate in the merchant service</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">A TALE</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +THOMAS HARDY</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">with a map of +wessex</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">macmillan and +co.</span>, <span class="smcap">limited</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">st. martin’s street</span>, <span +class="smcap">london</span><br /> +1920</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">copyright</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>First Edition</i> (3 +<i>vols.</i>) 1880. <i>New Edition</i> (1 <i>vol.</i>) +<i>and reprints</i> 1881-1893<br /> +<i>New Edition and reprints</i> 1896-1900<br /> +<i>First published by Macmillan and Co.</i>, <i>Crown</i> +8<i>vo</i>, 1903. <i>Reprinted</i> 1906, 1910, 1914<br /> +<i>Pocket Edition</i> 1907. <i>Reprinted</i> 1909, 1912, +1915, 1917, 1919, 1920</p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<p>The present tale is founded more largely on +testimony—oral and written—than any other in this +series. The external incidents which direct its course are +mostly an unexaggerated reproduction of the recollections of old +persons well known to the author in childhood, but now long dead, +who were eye-witnesses of those scenes. If wholly +transcribed their recollections would have filled a volume thrice +the length of ‘The Trumpet-Major.’</p> +<p>Down to the middle of this century, and later, there were not +wanting, in the neighbourhood of the places more or less clearly +indicated herein, casual relics of the circumstances amid which +the action moves—our preparations for defence against the +threatened invasion of England by Buonaparte. An outhouse +door riddled with bullet-holes, which had been extemporized by a +solitary man as a target for firelock practice when the landing +was hourly expected, a heap of bricks and clods on a beacon-hill, +which had formed the chimney and walls of the hut occupied by the +beacon-keeper, worm-eaten shafts and iron heads of pikes for the +use of those who had no better weapons, ridges on the down thrown +up during the encampment, fragments of volunteer uniform, and +other such lingering remains, brought to my imagination in early +childhood the state of affairs at the date of the war more +vividly than volumes of history could have done.</p> +<p>Those who have attempted to construct a coherent narrative of +past times from the fragmentary information furnished by +survivors, are aware of the difficulty of ascertaining the true +sequence of events indiscriminately recalled. For this +purpose the newspapers of the date were indispensable. Of +other documents consulted I may mention, for the satisfaction of +those who love a true story, that the ‘Address to all Ranks +and Descriptions of Englishmen’ was transcribed from an +original copy in a local museum; that the hieroglyphic portrait +of Napoleon existed as a print down to the present day in an old +woman’s cottage near ‘Overcombe;’ that the +particulars of the King’s doings at his favourite +watering-place were augmented by details from records of the +time. The drilling scene of the local militia received some +additions from an account given in so grave a work as +Gifford’s ‘History of the Wars of the French +Revolution’ (London, 1817). But on reference to the +History I find I was mistaken in supposing the account to be +advanced as authentic, or to refer to rural England. +However, it does in a large degree accord with the local +traditions of such scenes that I have heard recounted, times +without number, and the system of drill was tested by reference +to the Army Regulations of 1801, and other military +handbooks. Almost the whole narrative of the supposed +landing of the French in the Bay is from oral relation as +aforesaid. Other proofs of the veracity of this chronicle +have escaped my recollection.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">T. H.</p> +<p><i>October</i> 1895.</p> +<h2>I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE +DOWN</h2> +<p>In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the +vast amount of soldiering going on in the country was a cause of +much trembling to the sex, there lived in a village near the +Wessex coast two ladies of good report, though unfortunately of +limited means. The elder was a Mrs. Martha Garland, a +landscape-painter’s widow, and the other was her only +daughter Anne.</p> +<p>Anne was fair, very fair, in a poetical sense; but in +complexion she was of that particular tint between blonde and +brunette which is inconveniently left without a name. Her +eyes were honest and inquiring, her mouth cleanly cut and yet not +classical, the middle point of her upper lip scarcely descending +so far as it should have done by rights, so that at the merest +pleasant thought, not to mention a smile, portions of two or +three white teeth were uncovered whether she would or not. +Some people said that this was very attractive. She was +graceful and slender, and, though but little above five feet in +height, could draw herself up to look tall. In her manner, +in her comings and goings, in her ‘I’ll do +this,’ or ‘I’ll do that,’ she combined +dignity with sweetness as no other girl could do; and any +impressionable stranger youths who passed by were led to yearn +for a windfall of speech from her, and to see at the same time +that they would not get it. In short, beneath all that was +charming and simple in this young woman there lurked a real +firmness, unperceived at first, as the speck of colour lurks +unperceived in the heart of the palest parsley flower.</p> +<p>She wore a white handkerchief to cover her white neck, and a +cap on her head with a pink ribbon round it, tied in a bow at the +front. She had a great variety of these cap-ribbons, the +young men being fond of sending them to her as presents until +they fell definitely in love with a special sweetheart elsewhere, +when they left off doing so. Between the border of her cap +and her forehead were ranged a row of round brown curls, like +swallows’ nests under eaves.</p> +<p>She lived with her widowed mother in a portion of an ancient +building formerly a manor-house, but now a mill, which, being too +large for his own requirements, the miller had found it +convenient to divide and appropriate in part to these highly +respectable tenants. In this dwelling Mrs. Garland’s +and Anne’s ears were soothed morning, noon, and night by +the music of the mill, the wheels and cogs of which, being of +wood, produced notes that might have borne in their minds a +remote resemblance to the wooden tones of the stopped diapason in +an organ. Occasionally, when the miller was bolting, there was +added to these continuous sounds the cheerful clicking of the +hopper, which did not deprive them of rest except when it was +kept going all night; and over and above all this they had the +pleasure of knowing that there crept in through every crevice, +door, and window of their dwelling, however tightly closed, a +subtle mist of superfine flour from the grinding room, quite +invisible, but making its presence known in the course of time by +giving a pallid and ghostly look to the best furniture. The +miller frequently apologized to his tenants for the intrusion of +this insidious dry fog; but the widow was of a friendly and +thankful nature, and she said that she did not mind it at all, +being as it was, not nasty dirt, but the blessed staff of +life.</p> +<p>By good-humour of this sort, and in other ways, Mrs. Garland +acknowledged her friendship for her neighbour, with whom Anne and +herself associated to an extent which she never could have +anticipated when, tempted by the lowness of the rent, they first +removed thither after her husband’s death from a larger +house at the other end of the village. Those who have lived +in remote places where there is what is called no society will +comprehend the gradual levelling of distinctions that went on in +this case at some sacrifice of gentility on the part of one +household. The widow was sometimes sorry to find with what +readiness Anne caught up some dialect-word or accent from the +miller and his friends; but he was so good and true-hearted a +man, and she so easy-minded, unambitious a woman, that she would +not make life a solitude for fastidious reasons. More than +all, she had good ground for thinking that the miller secretly +admired her, and this added a piquancy to the situation.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>On a fine summer morning, when the leaves were warm under the +sun, and the more industrious bees abroad, diving into every blue +and red cup that could possibly be considered a flower, Anne was +sitting at the back window of her mother’s portion of the +house, measuring out lengths of worsted for a fringed rug that +she was making, which lay, about three-quarters finished, beside +her. The work, though chromatically brilliant, was tedious: +a hearth-rug was a thing which nobody worked at from morning to +night; it was taken up and put down; it was in the chair, on the +floor, across the hand-rail, under the bed, kicked here, kicked +there, rolled away in the closet, brought out again, and so on +more capriciously perhaps than any other home-made article. +Nobody was expected to finish a rug within a calculable period, +and the wools of the beginning became faded and historical before +the end was reached. A sense of this inherent nature of +worsted-work rather than idleness led Anne to look rather +frequently from the open casement.</p> +<p>Immediately before her was the large, smooth millpond, +over-full, and intruding into the hedge and into the road. +The water, with its flowing leaves and spots of froth, was +stealing away, like Time, under the dark arch, to tumble over the +great slimy wheel within. On the other side of the +mill-pond was an open place called the Cross, because it was +three-quarters of one, two lanes and a cattle-drive meeting +there. It was the general rendezvous and arena of the +surrounding village. Behind this a steep slope rose high +into the sky, merging in a wide and open down, now littered with +sheep newly shorn. The upland by its height completely +sheltered the mill and village from north winds, making summers +of springs, reducing winters to autumn temperatures, and +permitting myrtle to flourish in the open air.</p> +<p>The heaviness of noon pervaded the scene, and under its +influence the sheep had ceased to feed. Nobody was standing +at the Cross, the few inhabitants being indoors at their +dinner. No human being was on the down, and no human eye or +interest but Anne’s seemed to be concerned with it. +The bees still worked on, and the butterflies did not rest from +roving, their smallness seeming to shield them from the +stagnating effect that this turning moment of day had on larger +creatures. Otherwise all was still.</p> +<p>The girl glanced at the down and the sheep for no particular +reason; the steep margin of turf and daisies rising above the +roofs, chimneys, apple-trees, and church tower of the hamlet +around her, bounded the view from her position, and it was +necessary to look somewhere when she raised her head. While +thus engaged in working and stopping her attention was attracted +by the sudden rising and running away of the sheep squatted on +the down; and there succeeded sounds of a heavy tramping over the +hard sod which the sheep had quitted, the tramp being accompanied +by a metallic jingle. Turning her eyes further she beheld +two cavalry soldiers on bulky grey chargers, armed and accoutred +throughout, ascending the down at a point to the left where the +incline was comparatively easy. The burnished chains, +buckles, and plates of their trappings shone like little +looking-glasses, and the blue, red, and white about them was +unsubdued by weather or wear.</p> +<p>The two troopers rode proudly on, as if nothing less than +crowns and empires ever concerned their magnificent minds. +They reached that part of the down which lay just in front of +her, where they came to a halt. In another minute there +appeared behind them a group containing some half-dozen more of +the same sort. These came on, halted, and dismounted +likewise.</p> +<p>Two of the soldiers then walked some distance onward together, +when one stood still, the other advancing further, and stretching +a white line of tape between them. Two more of the men +marched to another outlying point, where they made marks in the +ground. Thus they walked about and took distances, +obviously according to some preconcerted scheme.</p> +<p>At the end of this systematic proceeding one solitary +horseman—a commissioned officer, if his uniform could be +judged rightly at that distance—rode up the down, went over +the ground, looked at what the others had done, and seemed to +think that it was good. And then the girl heard yet louder +tramps and clankings, and she beheld rising from where the others +had risen a whole column of cavalry in marching order. At a +distance behind these came a cloud of dust enveloping more and +more troops, their arms and accoutrements reflecting the sun +through the haze in faint flashes, stars, and streaks of +light. The whole body approached slowly towards the plateau +at the top of the down.</p> +<p>Anne threw down her work, and letting her eyes remain on the +nearing masses of cavalry, the worsteds getting entangled as they +would, said, ‘Mother, mother; come here! Here’s +such a fine sight! What does it mean? What can they +be going to do up there?’</p> +<p>The mother thus invoked ran upstairs and came forward to the +window. She was a woman of sanguine mouth and eye, unheroic +manner, and pleasant general appearance; a little more tarnished +as to surface, but not much worse in contour than the girl +herself.</p> +<p>Widow Garland’s thoughts were those of the period. +‘Can it be the French,’ she said, arranging herself +for the extremest form of consternation. ‘Can that +arch-enemy of mankind have landed at last?’ It should +be stated that at this time there were two arch-enemies of +mankind—Satan as usual, and Buonaparte, who had sprung up +and eclipsed his elder rival altogether. Mrs. Garland +alluded, of course, to the junior gentleman.</p> +<p>‘It cannot be he,’ said Anne. ‘Ah! +there’s Simon Burden, the man who watches at the +beacon. He’ll know!’</p> +<p>She waved her hand to an aged form of the same colour as the +road, who had just appeared beyond the mill-pond, and who, though +active, was bowed to that degree which almost reproaches a +feeling observer for standing upright. The arrival of the +soldiery had drawn him out from his drop of drink at the +‘Duke of York’ as it had attracted Anne. At her +call he crossed the mill-bridge, and came towards the window.</p> +<p>Anne inquired of him what it all meant; but Simon Burden, +without answering, continued to move on with parted gums, staring +at the cavalry on his own private account with a concern that +people often show about temporal phenomena when such matters can +affect them but a short time longer. ‘You’ll +walk into the millpond!’ said Anne. ‘What are +they doing? You were a soldier many years ago, and ought to +know.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t ask me, Mis’ess Anne,’ said the +military relic, depositing his body against the wall one limb at +a time. ‘I were only in the foot, ye know, and never +had a clear understanding of horses. Ay, I be a old man, +and of no judgment now.’ Some additional pressure, +however, caused him to search further in his worm-eaten magazine +of ideas, and he found that he did know in a dim irresponsible +way. The soldiers must have come there to camp: those men +they had seen first were the markers: they had come on before the +rest to measure out the ground. He who had accompanied them +was the quartermaster. ‘And so you see they have got +all the lines marked out by the time the regiment have come +up,’ he added. ‘And then they +will—well-a-deary! who’d ha’ supposed that +Overcombe would see such a day as this!’</p> +<p>‘And then they will—’</p> +<p>‘Then— Ah, it’s gone from me again!’ +said Simon. ‘O, and then they will raise their tents, +you know, and picket their horses. That was it; so it +was.’</p> +<p>By this time the column of horse had ascended into full view, +and they formed a lively spectacle as they rode along the high +ground in marching order, backed by the pale blue sky, and lit by +the southerly sun. Their uniform was bright and attractive; +white buckskin pantaloons, three-quarter boots, scarlet shakos +set off with lace, mustachios waxed to a needle point; and above +all, those richly ornamented blue jackets mantled with the +historic pelisse—that fascination to women, and encumbrance +to the wearers themselves.</p> +<p>‘’Tis the York Hussars!’ said Simon Burden, +brightening like a dying ember fanned. ‘Foreigners to +a man, and enrolled long since my time. But as good hearty +comrades, they say, as you’ll find in the King’s +service.’</p> +<p>‘Here are more and different ones,’ said Mrs. +Garland.</p> +<p>Other troops had, during the last few minutes, been ascending +the down at a remoter point, and now drew near. These were +of different weight and build from the others; lighter men, in +helmet hats, with white plumes.</p> +<p>‘I don’t know which I like best,’ said +Anne. ‘These, I think, after all.’</p> +<p>Simon, who had been looking hard at the latter, now said that +they were the --th Dragoons.</p> +<p>‘All Englishmen they,’ said the old man. +‘They lay at Budmouth barracks a few years ago.’</p> +<p>‘They did. I remember it,’ said Mrs. +Garland.</p> +<p>‘And lots of the chaps about here ‘listed at the +time,’ said Simon. ‘I can call to mind that +there was—ah, ’tis gone from me again! However, +all that’s of little account now.’</p> +<p>The dragoons passed in front of the lookers-on as the others +had done, and their gay plumes, which had hung lazily during the +ascent, swung to northward as they reached the top, showing that +on the summit a fresh breeze blew. ‘But look across +there,’ said Anne. There had entered upon the down +from another direction several battalions of foot, in white +kerseymere breeches and cloth gaiters. They seemed to be +weary from a long march, the original black of their gaiters and +boots being whity-brown with dust. Presently came +regimental waggons, and the private canteen carts which followed +at the end of a convoy.</p> +<p>The space in front of the mill-pond was now occupied by nearly +all the inhabitants of the village, who had turned out in alarm, +and remained for pleasure, their eyes lighted up with interest in +what they saw; for trappings and regimentals, war horses and men, +in towns an attraction, were here almost a sublimity.</p> +<p>The troops filed to their lines, dismounted, and in quick time +took off their accoutrements, rolled up their sheep-skins, +picketed and unbitted their horses, and made ready to erect the +tents as soon as they could be taken from the waggons and brought +forward. When this was done, at a given signal the canvases +flew up from the sod; and thenceforth every man had a place in +which to lay his head.</p> +<p>Though nobody seemed to be looking on but the few at the +window and in the village street, there were, as a matter of +fact, many eyes converging upon that military arrival in its high +and conspicuous position, not to mention the glances of birds and +other wild creatures. Men in distant gardens, women in +orchards and at cottage-doors, shepherds on remote hills, +turnip-hoers in blue-green enclosures miles away, captains with +spy-glasses out at sea, were regarding the picture keenly. +Those three or four thousand men of one machine-like movement, +some of them swashbucklers by nature; others, doubtless, of a +quiet shop-keeping disposition who had inadvertently got into +uniform—all of them had arrived from nobody knew where, and +hence were matter of great curiosity. They seemed to the +mere eye to belong to a different order of beings from those who +inhabited the valleys below. Apparently unconscious and +careless of what all the world was doing elsewhere, they remained +picturesquely engrossed in the business of making themselves a +habitation on the isolated spot which they had chosen.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland was of a festive and sanguine turn of mind, a +woman soon set up and soon set down, and the coming of the +regiments quite excited her. She thought there was reason +for putting on her best cap, thought that perhaps there was not; +that she would hurry on the dinner and go out in the afternoon; +then that she would, after all, do nothing unusual, nor show any +silly excitements whatever, since they were unbecoming in a +mother and a widow. Thus circumscribing her intentions till +she was toned down to an ordinary person of forty, Mrs. Garland +accompanied her daughter downstairs to dine, saying, +‘Presently we will call on Miller Loveday, and hear what he +thinks of it all.’</p> +<h2>II. SOMEBODY KNOCKS AND COMES IN</h2> +<p>Miller Loveday was the representative of an ancient family of +corn-grinders whose history is lost in the mists of +antiquity. His ancestral line was contemporaneous with that +of De Ros, Howard, and De La Zouche; but, owing to some trifling +deficiency in the possessions of the house of Loveday, the +individual names and intermarriages of its members were not +recorded during the Middle Ages, and thus their private lives in +any given century were uncertain. But it was known that the +family had formed matrimonial alliances with farmers not so very +small, and once with a gentleman-tanner, who had for many years +purchased after their death the horses of the most aristocratic +persons in the county—fiery steeds that earlier in their +career had been valued at many hundred guineas.</p> +<p>It was also ascertained that Mr. Loveday’s +great-grandparents had been eight in number, and his +great-great-grandparents sixteen, every one of whom reached to +years of discretion: at every stage backwards his sires and +gammers thus doubled and doubled till they became a vast body of +Gothic ladies and gentlemen of the rank known as ceorls or +villeins, full of importance to the country at large, and +ramifying throughout the unwritten history of England. His +immediate father had greatly improved the value of their +residence by building a new chimney, and setting up an additional +pair of millstones.</p> +<p>Overcombe Mill presented at one end the appearance of a +hard-worked house slipping into the river, and at the other of an +idle, genteel place, half-cloaked with creepers at this time of +the year, and having no visible connexion with flour. It +had hips instead of gables, giving it a round-shouldered look, +four chimneys with no smoke coming out of them, two zigzag cracks +in the wall, several open windows, with a looking-glass here and +there inside, showing its warped back to the passer-by; snowy +dimity curtains waving in the draught; two mill doors, one above +the other, the upper enabling a person to step out upon nothing +at a height of ten feet from the ground; a gaping arch vomiting +the river, and a lean, long-nosed fellow looking out from the +mill doorway, who was the hired grinder, except when a bulging +fifteen stone man occupied the same place, namely, the miller +himself.</p> +<p>Behind the mill door, and invisible to the mere wayfarer who +did not visit the family, were chalked addition and subtraction +sums, many of them originally done wrong, and the figures half +rubbed out and corrected, noughts being turned into nines, and +ones into twos. These were the miller’s private +calculations. There were also chalked in the same place +rows and rows of strokes like open palings, representing the +calculations of the grinder, who in his youthful ciphering +studies had not gone so far as Arabic figures.</p> +<p>In the court in front were two worn-out millstones, made +useful again by being let in level with the ground. Here +people stood to smoke and consider things in muddy weather; and +cats slept on the clean surfaces when it was hot. In the +large stubbard-tree at the corner of the garden was erected a +pole of larch fir, which the miller had bought with others at a +sale of small timber in Damer’s Wood one Christmas +week. It rose from the upper boughs of the tree to about +the height of a fisherman’s mast, and on the top was a vane +in the form of a sailor with his arm stretched out. When +the sun shone upon this figure it could be seen that the greater +part of his countenance was gone, and the paint washed from his +body so far as to reveal that he had been a soldier in red before +he became a sailor in blue. The image had, in fact, been +John, one of our coming characters, and was then turned into +Robert, another of them. This revolving piece of statuary +could not, however, be relied on as a vane, owing to the +neighbouring hill, which formed variable currents in the +wind.</p> +<p>The leafy and quieter wing of the mill-house was the part +occupied by Mrs. Garland and her daughter, who made up in +summer-time for the narrowness of their quarters by overflowing +into the garden on stools and chairs. The parlour or +dining-room had a stone floor—a fact which the widow sought +to disguise by double carpeting, lest the standing of Anne and +herself should be lowered in the public eye. Here now the +mid-day meal went lightly and mincingly on, as it does where +there is no greedy carnivorous man to keep the dishes about, and +was hanging on the close when somebody entered the passage as far +as the chink of the parlour door, and tapped. This +proceeding was probably adopted to kindly avoid giving trouble to +Susan, the neighbour’s pink daughter, who helped at Mrs. +Garland’s in the mornings, but was at that moment +particularly occupied in standing on the water-butt and gazing at +the soldiers, with an inhaling position of the mouth and circular +eyes.</p> +<p>There was a flutter in the little dining-room—the +sensitiveness of habitual solitude makes hearts beat for +preternaturally small reasons—and a guessing as to who the +visitor might be. It was some military gentleman from the +camp perhaps? No; that was impossible. It was the +parson? No; he would not come at dinner-time. It was +the well-informed man who travelled with drapery and the best +Birmingham earrings? Not at all; his time was not till +Thursday at three. Before they could think further the +visitor moved forward another step, and the diners got a glimpse +of him through the same friendly chink that had afforded him a +view of the Garland dinner-table.</p> +<p>‘O! It is only Loveday.’</p> +<p>This approximation to nobody was the miller above mentioned, a +hale man of fifty-five or sixty—hale all through, as many +were in those days, and not merely veneered with purple by +exhilarating victuals and drinks, though the latter were not at +all despised by him. His face was indeed rather pale than +otherwise, for he had just come from the mill. It was +capable of immense changes of expression: mobility was its +essence, a roll of flesh forming a buttress to his nose on each +side, and a deep ravine lying between his lower lip and the +tumulus represented by his chin. These fleshy lumps moved +stealthily, as if of their own accord, whenever his fancy was +tickled.</p> +<p>His eyes having lighted on the table-cloth, plates, and +viands, he found himself in a position which had a sensible +awkwardness for a modest man who always liked to enter only at +seasonable times the presence of a girl of such pleasantly soft +ways as Anne Garland, she who could make apples seem like +peaches, and throw over her shillings the glamour of guineas when +she paid him for flour.</p> +<p>‘Dinner is over, neighbour Loveday; please come +in,’ said the widow, seeing his case. The miller said +something about coming in presently; but Anne pressed him to +stay, with a tender motion of her lip as it played on the verge +of a solicitous smile without quite lapsing into one—her +habitual manner when speaking.</p> +<p>Loveday took off his low-crowned hat and advanced. He +had not come about pigs or fowls this time. ‘You have +been looking out, like the rest o’ us, no doubt, Mrs. +Garland, at the mampus of soldiers that have come upon the +down? Well, one of the horse regiments is the --th +Dragoons, my son John’s regiment, you know.’</p> +<p>The announcement, though it interested them, did not create +such an effect as the father of John had seemed to anticipate; +but Anne, who liked to say pleasant things, replied, ‘The +dragoons looked nicer than the foot, or the German cavalry +either.’</p> +<p>‘They are a handsome body of men,’ said the miller +in a disinterested voice. ‘Faith! I didn’t know +they were coming, though it may be in the newspaper all the +time. But old Derriman keeps it so long that we never know +things till they be in everybody’s mouth.’</p> +<p>This Derriman was a squireen living near, who was chiefly +distinguished in the present warlike time by having a nephew in +the yeomanry.</p> +<p>‘We were told that the yeomanry went along the turnpike +road yesterday,’ said Anne; ‘and they say that they +were a pretty sight, and quite soldierly.’</p> +<p>‘Ah! well—they be not regulars,’ said Miller +Loveday, keeping back harsher criticism as uncalled for. +But inflamed by the arrival of the dragoons, which had been the +exciting cause of his call, his mind would not go to +yeomanry. ‘John has not been home these five +years,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘And what rank does he hold now?’ said the +widow.</p> +<p>‘He’s trumpet-major, ma’am; and a good +musician.’ The miller, who was a good father, went on +to explain that John had seen some service, too. He had +enlisted when the regiment was lying in this neighbourhood, more +than eleven years before, which put his father out of temper with +him, as he had wished him to follow on at the mill. But as +the lad had enlisted seriously, and as he had often said that he +would be a soldier, the miller had thought that he would let Jack +take his chance in the profession of his choice.</p> +<p>Loveday had two sons, and the second was now brought into the +conversation by a remark of Anne’s that neither of them +seemed to care for the miller’s business.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Loveday in a less buoyant tone. +‘Robert, you see, must needs go to sea.’</p> +<p>‘He is much younger than his brother?’ said Mrs. +Garland.</p> +<p>About four years, the miller told her. His soldier son +was two-and-thirty, and Bob was twenty-eight. When Bob +returned from his present voyage, he was to be persuaded to stay +and assist as grinder in the mill, and go to sea no more.</p> +<p>‘A sailor-miller!’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘O, he knows as much about mill business as I do,’ +said Loveday; ‘he was intended for it, you know, like +John. But, bless me!’ he continued, ‘I am +before my story. I’m come more particularly to ask +you, ma’am, and you, Anne my honey, if you will join me and +a few friends at a leetle homely supper that I shall gi’e +to please the chap now he’s come? I can do no less +than have a bit of a randy, as the saying is, now that he’s +here safe and sound.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland wanted to catch her daughter’s eye; she was +in some doubt about her answer. But Anne’s eye was +not to be caught, for she hated hints, nods, and calculations of +any kind in matters which should be regulated by impulse; and the +matron replied, ‘If so be ’tis possible, we’ll +be there. You will tell us the day?’</p> +<p>He would, as soon as he had seen son John. +‘’Twill be rather untidy, you know, owing to my +having no womenfolks in the house; and my man David is a poor +dunder-headed feller for getting up a feast. Poor chap! his +sight is bad, that’s true, and he’s very good at +making the beds, and oiling the legs of the chairs and other +furniture, or I should have got rid of him years ago.’</p> +<p>‘You should have a woman to attend to the house, +Loveday,’ said the widow.</p> +<p>‘Yes, I should, but—. Well, ’tis a +fine day, neighbours. Hark! I fancy I hear the noise +of pots and pans up at the camp, or my ears deceive me. +Poor fellows, they must be hungry! Good day t’ye, +ma’am.’ And the miller went away.</p> +<p>All that afternoon Overcombe continued in a ferment of +interest in the military investment, which brought the excitement +of an invasion without the strife. There were great +discussions on the merits and appearance of the soldiery. +The event opened up, to the girls unbounded possibilities of +adoring and being adored, and to the young men an embarrassment +of dashing acquaintances which quite superseded falling in +love. Thirteen of these lads incontinently stated within +the space of a quarter of an hour that there was nothing in the +world like going for a soldier. The young women stated +little, but perhaps thought the more; though, in justice, they +glanced round towards the encampment from the corners of their +blue and brown eyes in the most demure and modest manner that +could be desired.</p> +<p>In the evening the village was lively with soldiers’ +wives; a tree full of starlings would not have rivalled the +chatter that was going on. These ladies were very +brilliantly dressed, with more regard for colour than for +material. Purple, red, and blue bonnets were numerous, with +bunches of cocks’ feathers; and one had on an Arcadian hat +of green sarcenet, turned up in front to show her cap +underneath. It had once belonged to an officer’s +lady, and was not so much stained, except where the occasional +storms of rain, incidental to a military life, had caused the +green to run and stagnate in curious watermarks like peninsulas +and islands. Some of the prettiest of these butterfly wives +had been fortunate enough to get lodgings in the cottages, and +were thus spared the necessity of living in huts and tents on the +down. Those who had not been so fortunate were not rendered +more amiable by the success of their sisters-in-arms, and called +them names which brought forth retorts and rejoinders; till the +end of these alternative remarks seemed dependent upon the close +of the day.</p> +<p>One of these new arrivals, who had a rosy nose and a slight +thickness of voice, which, as Anne said, she couldn’t help, +poor thing, seemed to have seen so much of the world, and to have +been in so many campaigns, that Anne would have liked to take her +into their own house, so as to acquire some of that practical +knowledge of the history of England which the lady possessed, and +which could not be got from books. But the narrowness of +Mrs. Garland’s rooms absolutely forbade this, and the +houseless treasury of experience was obliged to look for quarters +elsewhere.</p> +<p>That night Anne retired early to bed. The events of the +day, cheerful as they were in themselves, had been unusual enough +to give her a slight headache. Before getting into bed she +went to the window, and lifted the white curtains that hung +across it. The moon was shining, though not as yet into the +valley, but just peeping above the ridge of the down, where the +white cones of the encampment were softly touched by its +light. The quarter-guard and foremost tents showed +themselves prominently; but the body of the camp, the +officers’ tents, kitchens, canteen, and appurtenances in +the rear were blotted out by the ground, because of its height +above her. She could discern the forms of one or two +sentries moving to and fro across the disc of the moon at +intervals. She could hear the frequent shuffling and +tossing of the horses tied to the pickets; and in the other +direction the miles-long voice of the sea, whispering a louder +note at those points of its length where hampered in its ebb and +flow by some jutting promontory or group of boulders. +Louder sounds suddenly broke this approach to silence; they came +from the camp of dragoons, were taken up further to the right by +the camp of the Hanoverians, and further on still by the body of +infantry. It was tattoo. Feeling no desire to sleep, +she listened yet longer, looked at Charles’s Wain swinging +over the church tower, and the moon ascending higher and higher +over the right-hand streets of tents, where, instead of parade +and bustle, there was nothing going on but snores and dreams, the +tired soldiers lying by this time under their proper canvases, +radiating like spokes from the pole of each tent.</p> +<p>At last Anne gave up thinking, and retired like the +rest. The night wore on, and, except the occasional +‘All’s well’ of the sentries, no voice was +heard in the camp or in the village below.</p> +<h2>III. THE MILL BECOMES AN IMPORTANT CENTRE OF +OPERATIONS</h2> +<p>The next morning Miss Garland awoke with an impression that +something more than usual was going on, and she recognized as +soon as she could clearly reason that the proceedings, whatever +they might be, lay not far away from her bedroom window. +The sounds were chiefly those of pickaxes and shovels. Anne +got up, and, lifting the corner of the curtain about an inch, +peeped out.</p> +<p>A number of soldiers were busily engaged in making a zigzag +path down the incline from the camp to the river-head at the back +of the house, and judging from the quantity of work already got +through they must have begun very early. Squads of men were +working at several equidistant points in the proposed pathway, +and by the time that Anne had dressed herself each section of the +length had been connected with those above and below it, so that +a continuous and easy track was formed from the crest of the down +to the bottom of the steep.</p> +<p>The down rested on a bed of solid chalk, and the surface +exposed by the roadmakers formed a white ribbon, serpenting from +top to bottom.</p> +<p>Then the relays of working soldiers all disappeared, and, not +long after, a troop of dragoons in watering order rode forward at +the top and began to wind down the new path. They came +lower and closer, and at last were immediately beneath her +window, gathering themselves up on the space by the +mill-pond. A number of the horses entered it at the shallow +part, drinking and splashing and tossing about. Perhaps as +many as thirty, half of them with riders on their backs, were in +the water at one time; the thirsty animals drank, stamped, +flounced, and drank again, letting the clear, cool water dribble +luxuriously from their mouths. Miller Loveday was looking +on from over his garden hedge, and many admiring villagers were +gathered around.</p> +<p>Gazing up higher, Anne saw other troops descending by the new +road from the camp, those which had already been to the pond +making room for these by withdrawing along the village lane and +returning to the top by a circuitous route.</p> +<p>Suddenly the miller exclaimed, as in fulfilment of +expectation, ‘Ah, John, my boy; good morning!’ +And the reply of ‘Morning, father,’ came from a +well-mounted soldier near him, who did not, however, form one of +the watering party. Anne could not see his face very +clearly, but she had no doubt that this was John Loveday.</p> +<p>There were tones in the voice which reminded her of old times, +those of her very infancy, when Johnny Loveday had been top boy +in the village school, and had wanted to learn painting of her +father. The deeps and shallows of the mill-pond being +better known to him than to any other man in the camp, he had +apparently come down on that account, and was cautioning some of +the horsemen against riding too far in towards the mill-head.</p> +<p>Since her childhood and his enlistment Anne had seen him only +once, and then but casually, when he was home on a short +furlough. His figure was not much changed from what it had +been; but the many sunrises and sunsets which had passed since +that day, developing her from a comparative child to womanhood, +had abstracted some of his angularities, reddened his skin, and +given him a foreign look. It was interesting to see what +years of training and service had done for this man. Few +would have supposed that the white and the blue coats of miller +and soldier covered the forms of father and son.</p> +<p>Before the last troop of dragoons rode off they were welcomed +in a body by Miller Loveday, who still stood in his outer garden, +this being a plot lying below the mill-tail, and stretching to +the water-side. It was just the time of year when cherries +are ripe, and hang in clusters under their dark leaves. +While the troopers loitered on their horses, and chatted to the +miller across the stream, he gathered bunches of the fruit, and +held them up over the garden hedge for the acceptance of anybody +who would have them; whereupon the soldiers rode into the water +to where it had washed holes in the garden bank, and, reining +their horses there, caught the cherries in their forage-caps, or +received bunches of them on the ends of their switches, with the +dignified laugh that became martial men when stooping to slightly +boyish amusement. It was a cheerful, careless, +unpremeditated half-hour, which returned like the scent of a +flower to the memories of some of those who enjoyed it, even at a +distance of many years after, when they lay wounded and weak in +foreign lands.</p> +<p>Then dragoons and horses wheeled off as the others had done; +and troops of the German Legion next came down and entered in +panoramic procession the space below Anne’s eyes, as if on +purpose to gratify her. These were notable by their +mustachios, and queues wound tightly with brown ribbon to the +level of their broad shoulder-blades. They were charmed, as +the others had been, by the head and neck of Miss Garland in the +little square window overlooking the scene of operations, and +saluted her with devoted foreign civility, and in such +overwhelming numbers that the modest girl suddenly withdrew +herself into the room, and had a private blush between the chest +of drawers and the washing-stand.</p> +<p>When she came downstairs her mother said, ‘I have been +thinking what I ought to wear to Miller Loveday’s +to-night.’</p> +<p>‘To Miller Loveday’s?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Yes. The party is to-night. He has been in +here this morning to tell me that he has seen his son, and they +have fixed this evening.’</p> +<p>‘Do you think we ought to go, mother?’ said Anne +slowly, and looking at the smaller features of the +window-flowers.</p> +<p>‘Why not?’ said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘He will only have men there except ourselves, will +he? And shall we be right to go alone among +’em?’</p> +<p>Anne had not recovered from the ardent gaze of the gallant +York Hussars, whose voices reached her even now in converse with +Loveday.</p> +<p>‘La, Anne, how proud you are!’ said Widow +Garland. ‘Why, isn’t he our nearest neighbour +and our landlord? and don’t he always fetch our faggots +from the wood, and keep us in vegetables for next to +nothing?’</p> +<p>‘That’s true,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Well, we can’t be distant with the man. And +if the enemy land next autumn, as everybody says they will, we +shall have quite to depend upon the miller’s waggon and +horses. He’s our only friend.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, so he is,’ said Anne. ‘And you +had better go, mother; and I’ll stay at home. They +will be all men; and I don’t like going.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland reflected. ‘Well, if you don’t +want to go, I don’t,’ she said. ‘Perhaps, +as you are growing up, it would be better to stay at home this +time. Your father was a professional man, +certainly.’ Having spoken as a mother, she sighed as +a woman.</p> +<p>‘Why do you sigh, mother?’</p> +<p>‘You are so prim and stiff about everything.’</p> +<p>‘Very well—we’ll go.’</p> +<p>‘O no—I am not sure that we ought. I did not +promise, and there will be no trouble in keeping away.’</p> +<p>Anne apparently did not feel certain of her own opinion, and, +instead of supporting or contradicting, looked thoughtfully down, +and abstractedly brought her hands together on her bosom, till +her fingers met tip to tip.</p> +<p>As the day advanced the young woman and her mother became +aware that great preparations were in progress in the +miller’s wing of the house. The partitioning between +the Lovedays and the Garlands was not very thorough, consisting +in many cases of a simple screwing up of the doors in the +dividing walls; and thus when the mill began any new performances +they proclaimed themselves at once in the more private +dwelling. The smell of Miller Loveday’s pipe came +down Mrs. Garland’s chimney of an evening with the greatest +regularity. Every time that he poked his fire they knew +from the vehemence or deliberateness of the blows the precise +state of his mind; and when he wound his clock on Sunday nights +the whirr of that monitor reminded the widow to wind hers. +This transit of noises was most perfect where Loveday’s +lobby adjoined Mrs. Garland’s pantry; and Anne, who was +occupied for some time in the latter apartment, enjoyed the +privilege of hearing the visitors arrive and of catching stray +sounds and words without the connecting phrases that made them +entertaining, to judge from the laughter they evoked. The +arrivals passed through the house and went into the garden, where +they had tea in a large summer-house, an occasional blink of +bright colour, through the foliage, being all that was visible of +the assembly from Mrs. Garland’s windows. When it +grew dusk they all could be heard coming indoors to finish the +evening in the parlour.</p> +<p>Then there was an intensified continuation of the +above-mentioned signs of enjoyment, talkings and haw-haws, +runnings upstairs and runnings down, a slamming of doors and a +clinking of cups and glasses; till the proudest adjoining tenant +without friends on his own side of the partition might have been +tempted to wish for entrance to that merry dwelling, if only to +know the cause of these fluctuations of hilarity, and to see if +the guests were really so numerous, and the observations so very +amusing as they seemed.</p> +<p>The stagnation of life on the Garland side of the party-wall +began to have a very gloomy effect by the contrast. When, +about half-past nine o’clock, one of these tantalizing +bursts of gaiety had resounded for a longer time than usual, Anne +said, ‘I believe, mother, that you are wishing you had +gone.’</p> +<p>‘I own to feeling that it would have been very cheerful +if we had joined in,’ said Mrs. Garland, in a hankering +tone. ‘I was rather too nice in listening to you and +not going. The parson never calls upon us except in his +spiritual capacity. Old Derriman is hardly genteel; and +there’s nobody left to speak to. Lonely people must +accept what company they can get.’</p> +<p>‘Or do without it altogether.’</p> +<p>‘That’s not natural, Anne; and I am surprised to +hear a young woman like you say such a thing. Nature will +not be stifled in that way. . . .’ (Song and powerful +chorus heard through partition.) ‘I declare the room +on the other side of the wall seems quite a paradise compared +with this.’</p> +<p>‘Mother, you are quite a girl,’ said Anne in +slightly superior accents. ‘Go in and join them by +all means.’</p> +<p>‘O no—not now,’ said her mother, resignedly +shaking her head. ‘It is too late now. We ought +to have taken advantage of the invitation. They would look +hard at me as a poor mortal who had no real business there, and +the miller would say, with his broad smile, “Ah, you be +obliged to come round.”’</p> +<p>While the sociable and unaspiring Mrs. Garland continued thus +to pass the evening in two places, her body in her own house and +her mind in the miller’s, somebody knocked at the door, and +directly after the elder Loveday himself was admitted to the +room. He was dressed in a suit between grand and gay, which +he used for such occasions as the present, and his blue coat, +yellow and red waistcoat with the three lower buttons unfastened, +steel-buckled shoes and speckled stockings, became him very well +in Mrs. Martha Garland’s eyes.</p> +<p>‘Your servant, ma’am,’ said the miller, +adopting as a matter of propriety the raised standard of +politeness required by his higher costume. ‘Now, +begging your pardon, I can’t hae this. ’Tis +unnatural that you two ladies should be biding here and we under +the same roof making merry without ye. Your husband, poor +man—lovely picters that a’ would make to be +sure—would have been in with us long ago if he had been in +your place. I can take no nay from ye, upon my +honour. You and maidy Anne must come in, if it be only for +half-an-hour. John and his friends have got passes till +twelve o’clock to-night, and, saving a few of our own +village folk, the lowest visitor present is a very genteel German +corporal. If you should hae any misgivings on the score of +respectability, ma’am, we’ll pack off the underbred +ones into the back kitchen.’</p> +<p>Widow Garland and Anne looked yes at each other after this +appeal.</p> +<p>‘We’ll follow you in a few minutes,’ said +the elder, smiling; and she rose with Anne to go upstairs.</p> +<p>‘No, I’ll wait for ye,’ said the miller +doggedly; ‘or perhaps you’ll alter your mind +again.’</p> +<p>While the mother and daughter were upstairs dressing, and +saying laughingly to each other, ‘Well, we must go +now,’ as if they hadn’t wished to go all the evening, +other steps were heard in the passage; and the miller cried from +below, ‘Your pardon, Mrs. Garland; but my son John has come +to help fetch ye. Shall I ask him in till ye be +ready?’</p> +<p>‘Certainly; I shall be down in a minute,’ screamed +Anne’s mother in a slanting voice towards the +staircase.</p> +<p>When she descended, the outline of the trumpet-major appeared +half-way down the passage. ‘This is John,’ said +the miller simply. ‘John, you can mind Mrs. Martha +Garland very well?’</p> +<p>‘Very well, indeed,’ said the dragoon, coming in a +little further. ‘I should have called to see her last +time, but I was only home a week. How is your little girl, +ma’am?’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland said Anne was quite well. ‘She is +grown-up now. She will be down in a moment.’</p> +<p>There was a slight noise of military heels without the door, +at which the trumpet-major went and put his head outside, and +said, ‘All right—coming in a minute,’ when +voices in the darkness replied, ‘No hurry.’</p> +<p>‘More friends?’ said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘O, it is only Buck and Jones come to fetch me,’ +said the soldier. ‘Shall I ask ’em in a minute, +Mrs Garland, ma’am?’</p> +<p>‘O yes,’ said the lady; and the two interesting +forms of Trumpeter Buck and Saddler-sergeant Jones then came +forward in the most friendly manner; whereupon other steps were +heard without, and it was discovered that Sergeant-master-tailor +Brett and Farrier-extraordinary Johnson were outside, having come +to fetch Messrs. Buck and Jones, as Buck and Jones had come to +fetch the trumpet-major.</p> +<p>As there seemed a possibility of Mrs. Garland’s small +passage being choked up with human figures personally unknown to +her, she was relieved to hear Anne coming downstairs.</p> +<p>‘Here’s my little girl,’ said Mrs. Garland, +and the trumpet-major looked with a sort of awe upon the muslin +apparition who came forward, and stood quite dumb before +her. Anne recognized him as the trooper she had seen from +her window, and welcomed him kindly. There was something in +his honest face which made her feel instantly at home with +him.</p> +<p>At this frankness of manner Loveday—who was not a +ladies’ man—blushed, and made some alteration in his +bodily posture, began a sentence which had no end, and showed +quite a boy’s embarrassment. Recovering himself, he +politely offered his arm, which Anne took with a very pretty +grace. He conducted her through his comrades, who glued +themselves perpendicularly to the wall to let her pass, and then +they went out of the door, her mother following with the miller, +and supported by the body of troopers, the latter walking with +the usual cavalry gait, as if their thighs were rather too long +for them. Thus they crossed the threshold of the mill-house +and up the passage, the paving of which was worn into a gutter by +the ebb and flow of feet that had been going on there ever since +Tudor times.</p> +<h2>IV. WHO WERE PRESENT AT THE MILLER’S LITTLE +ENTERTAINMENT</h2> +<p>When the group entered the presence of the company a lull in +the conversation was caused by the sight of new visitors, and (of +course) by the charm of Anne’s appearance; until the old +men, who had daughters of their own, perceiving that she was only +a half-formed girl, resumed their tales and toss-potting with +unconcern.</p> +<p>Miller Loveday had fraternized with half the soldiers in the +camp since their arrival, and the effect of this upon his party +was striking—both chromatically and otherwise. Those +among the guests who first attracted the eye were the sergeants +and sergeant-majors of Loveday’s regiment, fine hearty men, +who sat facing the candles, entirely resigned to physical +comfort. Then there were other non-commissioned officers, a +German, two Hungarians, and a Swede, from the foreign +hussars—young men with a look of sadness on their faces, as +if they did not much like serving so far from home. All of +them spoke English fairly well. Old age was represented by +Simon Burden the pensioner, and the shady side of fifty by +Corporal Tullidge, his friend and neighbour, who was hard of +hearing, and sat with his hat on over a red cotton handkerchief +that was wound several times round his head. These two +veterans were employed as watchers at the neighbouring beacon, +which had lately been erected by the Lord-Lieutenant for firing +whenever the descent on the coast should be made. They +lived in a little hut on the hill, close by the heap of faggots; +but to-night they had found deputies to watch in their stead.</p> +<p>On a lower plane of experience and qualifications came +neighbour James Comfort, of the Volunteers, a soldier by +courtesy, but a blacksmith by rights; also William Tremlett and +Anthony Cripplestraw, of the local forces. The two latter +men of war were dressed merely as villagers, and looked upon the +regulars from a humble position in the background. The +remainder of the party was made up of a neighbouring dairyman or +two, and their wives, invited by the miller, as Anne was glad to +see, that she and her mother should not be the only women +there.</p> +<p>The elder Loveday apologized in a whisper to Mrs. Garland for +the presence of the inferior villagers. ‘But as they +are learning to be brave defenders of their home and country, +ma’am, as fast as they can master the drill, and have +worked for me off and on these many years, I’ve asked +’em in, and thought you’d excuse it.’</p> +<p>‘Certainly, Miller Loveday,’ said the widow.</p> +<p>‘And the same of old Burden and Tullidge. They +have served well and long in the Foot, and even now have a hard +time of it up at the beacon in wet weather. So after giving +them a meal in the kitchen I just asked ’em in to hear the +singing. They faithfully promise that as soon as ever the +gunboats appear in view, and they have fired the beacon, to run +down here first, in case we shouldn’t see it. +’Tis worth while to be friendly with ’em, you see, +though their tempers be queer.’</p> +<p>‘Quite worth while, miller,’ said she.</p> +<p>Anne was rather embarrassed by the presence of the regular +military in such force, and at first confined her words to the +dairymen’s wives she was acquainted with, and to the two +old soldiers of the parish.</p> +<p>‘Why didn’t ye speak to me afore, chiel?’ +said one of these, Corporal Tullidge, the elderly man with the +hat, while she was talking to old Simon Burden. ‘I +met ye in the lane yesterday,’ he added reproachfully, +‘but ye didn’t notice me at all.’</p> +<p>‘I am very sorry for it,’ she said; but, being +afraid to shout in such a company, the effect of her remark upon +the corporal was as if she had not spoken at all.</p> +<p>‘You was coming along with yer head full of some high +notions or other no doubt,’ continued the uncompromising +corporal in the same loud voice. ‘Ah, ’tis the +young bucks that get all the notice nowadays, and old folks are +quite forgot! I can mind well enough how young Bob Loveday +used to lie in wait for ye.’</p> +<p>Anne blushed deeply, and stopped his too excursive discourse +by hastily saying that she always respected old folks like +him. The corporal thought she inquired why he always kept +his hat on, and answered that it was because his head was injured +at Valenciennes, in July, Ninety-three. ‘We were +trying to bomb down the tower, and a piece of the shell struck +me. I was no more nor less than a dead man for two +days. If it hadn’t a been for that and my smashed arm +I should have come home none the worse for my five-and-twenty +years’ service.’</p> +<p>‘You have got a silver plate let into yer head, +haven’t ye, corpel?’ said Anthony Cripplestraw, who +had drawn near. ‘I have heard that the way they +morticed yer skull was a beautiful piece of workmanship. +Perhaps the young woman would like to see the place? +’Tis a curious sight, Mis’ess Anne; you don’t +see such a wownd every day.’</p> +<p>‘No, thank you,’ said Anne hurriedly, dreading, as +did all the young people of Overcombe, the spectacle of the +corporal uncovered. He had never been seen in public +without the hat and the handkerchief since his return in +Ninety-four; and strange stories were told of the ghastliness of +his appearance bare-headed, a little boy who had accidentally +beheld him going to bed in that state having been frightened into +fits.</p> +<p>‘Well, if the young woman don’t want to see yer +head, maybe she’d like to hear yer arm?’ continued +Cripplestraw, earnest to please her.</p> +<p>‘Hey?’ said the corporal.</p> +<p>‘Your arm hurt too?’ cried Anne.</p> +<p>‘Knocked to a pummy at the same time as my head,’ +said Tullidge dispassionately.</p> +<p>‘Rattle yer arm, corpel, and show her,’ said +Cripplestraw.</p> +<p>‘Yes, sure,’ said the corporal, raising the limb +slowly, as if the glory of exhibition had lost some of its +novelty, though he was willing to oblige. Twisting it +mercilessly about with his right hand he produced a crunching +among the bones at every motion, Cripplestraw seeming to derive +great satisfaction from the ghastly sound.</p> +<p>‘How very shocking!’ said Anne, painfully anxious +for him to leave off.</p> +<p>‘O, it don’t hurt him, bless ye. Do it, +corpel?’ said Cripplestraw.</p> +<p>‘Not a bit,’ said the corporal, still working his +arm with great energy.</p> +<p>‘There’s no life in the bones at all. No +life in ’em, I tell her, corpel!’</p> +<p>‘None at all.’</p> +<p>‘They be as loose as a bag of ninepins,’ explained +Cripplestraw in continuation. ‘You can feel ’em +quite plain, Mis’ess Anne. If ye would like to, +he’ll undo his sleeve in a minute to oblege ye?’</p> +<p>‘O no, no, please not! I quite understand,’ +said the young woman.</p> +<p>‘Do she want to hear or see any more, or don’t +she?’ the corporal inquired, with a sense that his time was +getting wasted.</p> +<p>Anne explained that she did not on any account; and managed to +escape from the corner.</p> +<h2>V. THE SONG AND THE STRANGER</h2> +<p>The trumpet-major now contrived to place himself near her, +Anne’s presence having evidently been a great pleasure to +him since the moment of his first seeing her. She was quite +at her ease with him, and asked him if he thought that Buonaparte +would really come during the summer, and many other questions +which the gallant dragoon could not answer, but which he +nevertheless liked to be asked. William Tremlett, who had +not enjoyed a sound night’s rest since the First +Consul’s menace had become known, pricked up his ears at +sound of this subject, and inquired if anybody had seen the +terrible flat-bottomed boats that the enemy were to cross in.</p> +<p>‘My brother Robert saw several of them paddling about +the shore the last time he passed the Straits of Dover,’ +said the trumpet-major; and he further startled the company by +informing them that there were supposed to be more than fifteen +hundred of these boats, and that they would carry a hundred men +apiece. So that a descent of one hundred and fifty thousand +men might be expected any day as soon as Boney had brought his +plans to bear.</p> +<p>‘Lord ha’ mercy upon us!’ said William +Tremlett.</p> +<p>‘The night-time is when they will try it, if they try it +at all,’ said old Tullidge, in the tone of one whose watch +at the beacon must, in the nature of things, have given him +comprehensive views of the situation. ‘It is my +belief that the point they will choose for making the shore is +just over there,’ and he nodded with indifference towards a +section of the coast at a hideous nearness to the house in which +they were assembled, whereupon Fencible Tremlett, and +Cripplestraw of the Locals, tried to show no signs of +trepidation.</p> +<p>‘When d’ye think ’twill be?’ said +Volunteer Comfort, the blacksmith.</p> +<p>‘I can’t answer to a day,’ said the +corporal, ‘but it will certainly be in a down-channel tide; +and instead of pulling hard against it, he’ll let his boats +drift, and that will bring ’em right into Budmouth +Bay. ’Twill be a beautiful stroke of war, if so be +’tis quietly done!’</p> +<p>‘Beautiful,’ said Cripplestraw, moving inside his +clothes. ‘But how if we should be all abed, +corpel? You can’t expect a man to be brave in his +shirt, especially we Locals, that have only got so far as +shoulder fire-locks.’</p> +<p>‘He’s not coming this summer. He’ll +never come at all,’ said a tall sergeant-major +decisively.</p> +<p>Loveday the soldier was too much engaged in attending upon +Anne and her mother to join in these surmises, bestirring himself +to get the ladies some of the best liquor the house afforded, +which had, as a matter of fact, crossed the Channel as privately +as Buonaparte wished his army to do, and had been landed on a +dark night over the cliff. After this he asked Anne to +sing, but though she had a very pretty voice in private +performances of that nature, she declined to oblige him; turning +the subject by making a hesitating inquiry about his brother +Robert, whom he had mentioned just before.</p> +<p>‘Robert is as well as ever, thank you, Miss +Garland,’ he said. ‘He is now mate of the brig +Pewit—rather young for such a command; but the owner puts +great trust in him.’ The trumpet-major added, +deepening his thoughts to a profounder view of the person +discussed, ‘Bob is in love.’</p> +<p>Anne looked conscious, and listened attentively; but Loveday +did not go on.</p> +<p>‘Much?’ she asked.</p> +<p>‘I can’t exactly say. And the strange part +of it is that he never tells us who the woman is. Nobody +knows at all.’</p> +<p>‘He will tell, of course?’ said Anne, in the +remote tone of a person with whose sex such matters had no +connexion whatever.</p> +<p>Loveday shook his head, and the tete-a-tete was put an end to +by a burst of singing from one of the sergeants, who was followed +at the end of his song by others, each giving a ditty in his +turn; the singer standing up in front of the table, stretching +his chin well into the air, as though to abstract every possible +wrinkle from his throat, and then plunging into the melody. +When this was over one of the foreign hussars—the genteel +German of Miller Loveday’s description, who called himself +a Hungarian, and in reality belonged to no definite +country—performed at Trumpet-major Loveday’s request +the series of wild motions that he denominated his national +dance, that Anne might see what it was like. Miss Garland +was the flower of the whole company; the soldiers one and all, +foreign and English, seemed to be quite charmed by her presence, +as indeed they well might be, considering how seldom they came +into the society of such as she.</p> +<p>Anne and her mother were just thinking of retiring to their +own dwelling when Sergeant Stanner of the --th Foot, who was +recruiting at Budmouth, began a satirical song:—</p> +<blockquote><p>When law’-yers strive’ to heal’ +a breach’,<br /> +And par-sons prac’-tise what’ they preach’;<br +/> +Then lit’-tle Bo-ney he’ll pounce down’,<br /> +And march’ his men’ on Lon’-don +town’!</p> +<p>Chorus.—Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lo’-rum,<br /> + Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lay.</p> +<p>When jus’-ti-ces’ hold e’qual +scales’,<br /> +And rogues’ are on’-ly found’ in +jails’;<br /> +Then lit’tle Bo’-ney he’ll pounce +down’,<br /> +And march’ his men’ on Lon’-don +town’!</p> +<p>Chorus.—Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lo’-rum,<br /> + Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lay.</p> +<p>When rich’ men find’ their wealth’ a +curse’,<br /> +And fill’ there-with’ the poor’ man’s +purse’;<br /> +Then lit’-tle Bo’-ney he’ll pounce +down’,<br /> +And march’ his men’ on Lon’-don +town’!</p> +<p>Chorus.—Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lo’-rum,<br /> + Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lay.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Poor Stanner! In spite of his satire, he fell at the bloody +battle of Albuera a few years after this pleasantly spent summer +at the Georgian watering-place, being mortally wounded and +trampled down by a French hussar when the brigade was deploying +into line under Beresford.</p> +<p>While Miller Loveday was saying ‘Well done, Mr. +Stanner!’ at the close of the thirteenth stanza, which +seemed to be the last, and Mr. Stanner was modestly expressing +his regret that he could do no better, a stentorian voice was +heard outside the window shutter repeating,</p> +<blockquote><p>Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lo’-rum,<br /> +Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, tol’-lol-lay.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The company was silent in a moment at this reinforcement, and +only the military tried not to look surprised. While all +wondered who the singer could be somebody entered the porch; the +door opened, and in came a young man, about the size and weight +of the Farnese Hercules, in the uniform of the yeomanry +cavalry.</p> +<p>‘’Tis young Squire Derriman, old Mr. +Derriman’s nephew,’ murmured voices in the +background.</p> +<p>Without waiting to address anybody, or apparently seeing who +were gathered there, the colossal man waved his cap above his +head and went on in tones that shook the window-panes:—</p> +<blockquote><p>When hus’-bands with’ their +wives’ agree’.<br /> +And maids’ won’t wed’ from +mod’-es-ty’,<br /> +Then lit’-tle Bo’-ney he’ll pounce +down’,<br /> +And march’ his men’ on Lon’-don +town’!</p> +<p>Chorus.—Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lo’-rum,<br /> + Rol’-li-cum ro’-rum, +tol’-lol-lay.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was a verse which had been omitted by the gallant Stanner, +out of respect to the ladies.</p> +<p>The new-comer was red-haired and of florid complexion, and +seemed full of a conviction that his whim of entering must be +their pleasure, which for the moment it was.</p> +<p>‘No ceremony, good men all,’ he said; ‘I was +passing by, and my ear was caught by the singing. I like +singing; ’tis warming and cheering, and shall not be put +down. I should like to hear anybody say +otherwise.’</p> +<p>‘Welcome, Master Derriman,’ said the miller, +filling a glass and handing it to the yeoman. ‘Come +all the way from quarters, then? I hardly knowed ye in your +soldier’s clothes. You’d look more natural with +a spud in your hand, sir. I shouldn’t ha’ known +ye at all if I hadn’t heard that you were called +out.’</p> +<p>‘More natural with a spud!—have a care, +miller,’ said the young giant, the fire of his complexion +increasing to scarlet. ‘I don’t mean anger, +but—but—a soldier’s honour, you +know!’</p> +<p>The military in the background laughed a little, and the +yeoman then for the first time discovered that there were more +regulars present than one. He looked momentarily +disconcerted, but expanded again to full assurance.</p> +<p>‘Right, right, Master Derriman, no +offence—’twas only my joke,’ said the genial +miller. ‘Everybody’s a soldier nowadays. +Drink a drap o’ this cordial, and don’t mind +words.’</p> +<p>The young man drank without the least reluctance, and said, +‘Yes, miller, I am called out. ’Tis ticklish +times for us soldiers now; we hold our lives in our +hands—What are those fellows grinning at behind the +table?—I say, we do!’</p> +<p>‘Staying with your uncle at the farm for a day or two, +Mr. Derriman?’</p> +<p>‘No, no; as I told you, six mile off. Billeted at +Casterbridge. But I have to call and see the old, +old—’</p> +<p>‘Gentleman?’</p> +<p>‘Gentleman!—no, skinflint. He lives upon the +sweepings of the barton; ha, ha!’ And the +speaker’s regular white teeth showed themselves like snow +in a Dutch cabbage. ‘Well, well, the profession of +arms makes a man proof against all that. I take things as I +find ’em.’</p> +<p>‘Quite right, Master Derriman. Another +drop?’</p> +<p>‘No, no. I’ll take no more than is good for +me—no man should; so don’t tempt me.’</p> +<p>The yeoman then saw Anne, and by an unconscious gravitation +went towards her and the other women, flinging a remark to John +Loveday in passing. ‘Ah, Loveday! I heard you +were come; in short, I come o’ purpose to see you. +Glad to see you enjoying yourself at home again.’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major replied civilly, though not without +grimness, for he seemed hardly to like Derriman’s motion +towards Anne.</p> +<p>‘Widow Garland’s daughter!—yes, ’tis! +surely. You remember me? I have been here +before. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry Cavalry.’</p> +<p>Anne gave a little curtsey. ‘I know your name is +Festus—that’s all.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, ’tis well known—especially +latterly.’ He dropped his voice to confidence +pitch. ‘I suppose your friends here are disturbed by +my coming in, as they don’t seem to talk much? I +don’t mean to interrupt the party; but I often find that +people are put out by my coming among ’em, especially when +I’ve got my regimentals on.’</p> +<p>‘La! and are they?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; ’tis the way I have.’ He further +lowered his tone, as if they had been old friends, though in +reality he had only seen her three or four times. +‘And how did you come to be here? Dash my wig, I +don’t like to see a nice young lady like you in this +company. You should come to some of our yeomanry sprees in +Casterbridge or Shottsford-Forum. O, but the girls do +come! The yeomanry are respected men, men of good +substantial families, many farming their own land; and every one +among us rides his own charger, which is more than these cussed +fellows do.’ He nodded towards the dragoons.</p> +<p>‘Hush, hush! Why, these are friends and neighbours +of Miller Loveday, and he is a great friend of ours—our +best friend,’ said Anne with great emphasis, and reddening +at the sense of injustice to their host. ‘What are +you thinking of, talking like that? It is ungenerous in +you.’</p> +<p>‘Ha, ha! I’ve affronted you. +Isn’t that it, fair angel, fair—what do you call +it?—fair vestal? Ah, well! would you was safe in my +own house! But honour must be minded now, not +courting. Rollicum-rorum, tol-lol-lorum. Pardon me, +my sweet, I like ye! It may be a come down for me, owning +land; but I do like ye.’</p> +<p>‘Sir, please be quiet,’ said Anne, distressed.</p> +<p>‘I will, I will. Well, Corporal Tullidge, +how’s your head?’ he said, going towards the other +end of the room, and leaving Anne to herself.</p> +<p>The company had again recovered its liveliness, and it was a +long time before the bouncing Rufus who had joined them could +find heart to tear himself away from their society and good +liquors, although he had had quite enough of the latter before he +entered. The natives received him at his own valuation, and +the soldiers of the camp, who sat beyond the table, smiled behind +their pipes at his remarks, with a pleasant twinkle of the eye +which approached the satirical, John Loveday being not the least +conspicuous in this bearing. But he and his friends were +too courteous on such an occasion as the present to challenge the +young man’s large remarks, and readily permitted him to set +them right on the details of camping and other military routine, +about which the troopers seemed willing to let persons hold any +opinion whatever, provided that they themselves were not obliged +to give attention to it; showing, strangely enough, that if there +was one subject more than another which never interested their +minds, it was the art of war. To them the art of enjoying +good company in Overcombe Mill, the details of the miller’s +household, the swarming of his bees, the number of his chickens, +and the fatness of his pigs, were matters of infinitely greater +concern.</p> +<p>The present writer, to whom this party has been described +times out of number by members of the Loveday family and other +aged people now passed away, can never enter the old living-room +of Overcombe Mill without beholding the genial scene through the +mists of the seventy or eighty years that intervene between then +and now. First and brightest to the eye are the dozen +candles, scattered about regardless of expense, and kept well +snuffed by the miller, who walks round the room at intervals of +five minutes, snuffers in hand, and nips each wick with great +precision, and with something of an executioner’s grim look +upon his face as he closes the snuffers upon the neck of the +candle. Next to the candle-light show the red and blue +coats and white breeches of the soldiers—nearly twenty of +them in all besides the ponderous Derriman—the head of the +latter, and, indeed, the heads of all who are standing up, being +in dangerous proximity to the black beams of the ceiling. +There is not one among them who would attach any meaning to +‘Vittoria,’ or gather from the syllables +‘Waterloo’ the remotest idea of his own glory or +death. Next appears the correct and innocent Anne, little +thinking what things Time has in store for her at no great +distance off. She looks at Derriman with a half-uneasy +smile as he clanks hither and thither, and hopes he will not +single her out again to hold a private dialogue with—which, +however, he does, irresistibly attracted by the white muslin +figure. She must, of course, look a little gracious again +now, lest his mood should turn from sentimental to +quarrelsome—no impossible contingency with the +yeoman-soldier, as her quick perception had noted.</p> +<p>‘Well, well; this idling won’t do for me, +folks,’ he at last said, to Anne’s relief. +‘I ought not to have come in, by rights; but I heard you +enjoying yourselves, and thought it might be worth while to see +what you were up to; I have several miles to go before +bedtime;’ and stretching his arms, lifting his chin, and +shaking his head, to eradicate any unseemly curve or wrinkle from +his person, the yeoman wished them an off-hand good-night, and +departed.</p> +<p>‘You should have teased him a little more, +father,’ said the trumpet-major drily. ‘You +could soon have made him as crabbed as a bear.’</p> +<p>‘I didn’t want to provoke the +chap—’twasn’t worth while. He came in +friendly enough,’ said the gentle miller without looking +up.</p> +<p>‘I don’t think he was overmuch friendly,’ +said John.</p> +<p>‘’Tis as well to be neighbourly with folks, if +they be not quite onbearable,’ his father genially replied, +as he took off his coat to go and draw more ale—this +periodical stripping to the shirt-sleeves being necessitated by +the narrowness of the cellar and the smeary effect of its +numerous cobwebs upon best clothes.</p> +<p>Some of the guests then spoke of Fess Derriman as not such a +bad young man if you took him right and humoured him; others said +that he was nobody’s enemy but his own; and the elder +ladies mentioned in a tone of interest that he was likely to come +into a deal of money at his uncle’s death. The person +who did not praise was the one who knew him best, who had known +him as a boy years ago, when he had lived nearer to Overcombe +than he did at present. This unappreciative person was the +trumpet-major.</p> +<h2>VI. OLD MR. DERRIMAN OF OXWELL HALL</h2> +<p>At this time in the history of Overcombe one solitary +newspaper occasionally found its way into the village. It +was lent by the postmaster at Budmouth (who, in some mysterious +way, got it for nothing through his connexion with the mail) to +Mr. Derriman at the Hall, by whom it was handed on to Mrs. +Garland when it was not more than a fortnight old. Whoever +remembers anything about the old farmer-squire will, of course, +know well enough that this delightful privilege of reading +history in long columns was not accorded to the Widow Garland for +nothing. It was by such ingenuous means that he paid her +for her daughter’s occasional services in reading aloud to +him and making out his accounts, in which matters the farmer, +whose guineas were reported to touch five figures—some said +more—was not expert.</p> +<p>Mrs. Martha Garland, as a respectable widow, occupied a +twilight rank between the benighted villagers and the +well-informed gentry, and kindly made herself useful to the +former as letter-writer and reader, and general translator from +the printing tongue. It was not without satisfaction that +she stood at her door of an evening, newspaper in hand, with +three or four cottagers standing round, and poured down their +open throats any paragraph that she might choose to select from +the stirring ones of the period. When she had done with the +sheet Mrs. Garland passed it on to the miller, the miller to the +grinder, and the grinder to the grinder’s boy, in whose +hands it became subdivided into half pages, quarter pages, and +irregular triangles, and ended its career as a paper cap, a +flagon bung, or a wrapper for his bread and cheese.</p> +<p>Notwithstanding his compact with Mrs. Garland, old Mr. +Derriman kept the paper so long, and was so chary of wasting his +man’s time on a merely intellectual errand, that unless she +sent for the journal it seldom reached her hands. Anne was +always her messenger. The arrival of the soldiers led Mrs. +Garland to despatch her daughter for it the day after the party; +and away she went in her hat and pelisse, in a direction at right +angles to that of the encampment on the hill.</p> +<p>Walking across the fields for the distance of a mile or two, +she came out upon the high-road by a wicket-gate. On the +other side of the way was the entrance to what at first sight +looked like a neglected meadow, the gate being a rotten one, +without a bottom rail, and broken-down palings lying on each +side. The dry hard mud of the opening was marked with +several horse and cow tracks, that had been half obliterated by +fifty score sheep tracks, surcharged with the tracks of a man and +a dog. Beyond this geological record appeared a +carriage-road, nearly grown over with grass, which Anne +followed. It descended by a gentle slope, dived under +dark-rinded elm and chestnut trees, and conducted her on till the +hiss of a waterfall and the sound of the sea became audible, when +it took a bend round a swamp of fresh watercress and brooklime +that had once been a fish pond. Here the grey, weather-worn +front of a building edged from behind the trees. It was +Oxwell Hall, once the seat of a family now extinct, and of late +years used as a farmhouse.</p> +<p>Benjamin Derriman, who owned the crumbling place, had +originally been only the occupier and tenant-farmer of the fields +around. His wife had brought him a small fortune, and +during the growth of their only son there had been a partition of +the Oxwell estate, giving the farmer, now a widower, the +opportunity of acquiring the building and a small portion of the +land attached on exceptionally low terms. But two years +after the purchase the boy died, and Derriman’s existence +was paralyzed forthwith. It was said that since that event +he had devised the house and fields to a distant female relative, +to keep them out of the hands of his detested nephew; but this +was not certainly known.</p> +<p>The hall was as interesting as mansions in a state of +declension usually are, as the excellent county history +showed. That popular work in folio contained an old plate +dedicated to the last scion of the original owners, from which +drawing it appeared that in 1750, the date of publication, the +windows were covered with little scratches like black flashes of +lightning; that a horn of hard smoke came out of each of the +twelve chimneys; that a lady and a lap-dog stood on the lawn in a +strenuously walking position; and a substantial cloud and nine +flying birds of no known species hung over the trees to the +north-east.</p> +<p>The rambling and neglected dwelling had all the romantic +excellencies and practical drawbacks which such mildewed places +share in common with caves, mountains, wildernesses, glens, and +other homes of poesy that people of taste wish to live and die +in. Mustard and cress could have been raised on the inner +plaster of the dewy walls at any height not exceeding three feet +from the floor; and mushrooms of the most refined and +thin-stemmed kinds grew up through the chinks of the larder +paving. As for the outside, Nature, in the ample time that +had been given her, had so mingled her filings and effacements +with the marks of human wear and tear upon the house, that it was +often hard to say in which of the two or if in both, any +particular obliteration had its origin. The keenness was +gone from the mouldings of the doorways, but whether worn out by +the rubbing past of innumerable people’s shoulders, and the +moving of their heavy furniture, or by Time in a grander and more +abstract form, did not appear. The iron stanchions inside +the window-panes were eaten away to the size of wires at the +bottom where they entered the stone, the condensed breathings of +generations having settled there in pools and rusted them. +The panes themselves had either lost their shine altogether or +become iridescent as a peacock’s tail. In the middle +of the porch was a vertical sun-dial, whose gnomon swayed loosely +about when the wind blew, and cast its shadow hither and thither, +as much as to say, ‘Here’s your fine model dial; +here’s any time for any man; I am an old dial; and +shiftiness is the best policy.’</p> +<p>Anne passed under the arched gateway which screened the main +front; over it was the porter’s lodge, reached by a spiral +staircase. Across the archway was fixed a row of wooden +hurdles, one of which Anne opened and closed behind her. +Their necessity was apparent as soon as she got inside. The +quadrangle of the ancient pile was a bed of mud and manure, +inhabited by calves, geese, ducks, and sow pigs surprisingly +large, with young ones surprisingly small. In the groined +porch some heifers were amusing themselves by stretching up their +necks and licking the carved stone capitals that supported the +vaulting. Anne went on to a second and open door, across +which was another hurdle to keep the live stock from absolute +community with the inmates. There being no knocker, she +knocked by means of a short stick which was laid against the post +for that purpose; but nobody attending, she entered the passage, +and tried an inner door.</p> +<p>A slight noise was heard inside, the door opened about an +inch, and a strip of decayed face, including the eye and some +forehead wrinkles, appeared within the crevice.</p> +<p>‘Please I have come for the paper,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘O, is it you, dear Anne?’ whined the inmate, +opening the door a little further. ‘I could hardly +get to the door to open it, I am so weak.’</p> +<p>The speaker was a wizened old gentleman, in a coat the colour +of his farmyard, breeches of the same hue, unbuttoned at the +knees, revealing a bit of leg above his stocking and a dazzlingly +white shirt-frill to compensate for this untidiness below. +The edge of his skull round his eye-sockets was visible through +the skin, and he had a mouth whose corners made towards the back +of his head on the slightest provocation. He walked with +great apparent difficulty back into the room, Anne following +him.</p> +<p>‘Well, you can have the paper if you want it; but you +never give me much time to see what’s in en! +Here’s the paper.’ He held it out, but before +she could take it he drew it back again, saying, ‘I have +not had my share o’ the paper by a good deal, what with my +weak sight, and people coming so soon for en. I am a poor +put-upon soul; but my “Duty of Man” will be left to +me when the newspaper is gone.’ And he sank into his +chair with an air of exhaustion.</p> +<p>Anne said that she did not wish to take the paper if he had +not done with it, and that she was really later in the week than +usual, owing to the soldiers.</p> +<p>‘Soldiers, yes—rot the soldiers! And now +hedges will be broke, and hens’ nests robbed, and +sucking-pigs stole, and I don’t know what all. +Who’s to pay for’t, sure? I reckon that because +the soldiers be come you don’t mean to be kind enough to +read to me what I hadn’t time to read myself.’</p> +<p>She would read if he wished, she said; she was in no +hurry. And sitting herself down she unfolded the paper.</p> +<p>‘“Dinner at Carlton House”?’</p> +<p>‘No, faith. ’Tis nothing to I.’</p> +<p>‘“Defence of the country”?’</p> +<p>‘Ye may read that if ye will. I hope there will be +no billeting in this parish, or any wild work of that sort; for +what would a poor old lamiger like myself do with soldiers in his +house, and nothing to feed ’em with?’</p> +<p>Anne began reading, and continued at her task nearly ten +minutes, when she was interrupted by the appearance in the +quadrangular slough without of a large figure in the uniform of +the yeomanry cavalry.</p> +<p>‘What do you see out there?’ said the farmer with +a start, as she paused and slowly blushed.</p> +<p>‘A soldier—one of the yeomanry,’ said Anne, +not quite at her ease.</p> +<p>‘Scrounch it all—’tis my nephew!’ +exclaimed the old man, his face turning to a phosphoric pallor, +and his body twitching with innumerable alarms as he formed upon +his face a gasping smile of joy, with which to welcome the +new-coming relative. ‘Read on, prithee, Miss +Garland.’</p> +<p>Before she had read far the visitor straddled over the +door-hurdle into the passage and entered the room.</p> +<p>‘Well, nunc, how do you feel?’ said the giant, +shaking hands with the farmer in the manner of one violently +ringing a hand-bell. ‘Glad to see you.’</p> +<p>‘Bad and weakish, Festus,’ replied the other, his +person responding passively to the rapid vibrations +imparted. ‘O, be tender, please—a little +softer, there’s a dear nephew! My arm is no more than +a cobweb.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, poor soul!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I am not much more than a skeleton, and +can’t bear rough usage.’</p> +<p>‘Sorry to hear that; but I’ll bear your affliction +in mind. Why, you are all in a tremble, Uncle +Benjy!’</p> +<p>‘’Tis because I am so gratified,’ said the +old man. ‘I always get all in a tremble when I am +taken by surprise by a beloved relation.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, that’s it!’ said the yeoman, bringing +his hand down on the back of his uncle’s chair with a loud +smack, at which Uncle Benjy nervously sprang three inches from +his seat and dropped into it again. ‘Ask your pardon +for frightening ye, uncle. ’Tis how we do in the +army, and I forgot your nerves. You have scarcely expected +to see me, I dare say, but here I am.’</p> +<p>‘I am glad to see ye. You are not going to stay +long, perhaps?’</p> +<p>‘Quite the contrary. I am going to stay ever so +long!’</p> +<p>‘O I see! I am so glad, dear Festus. Ever so +long, did ye say?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, <i>ever</i> so long,’ said the young +gentleman, sitting on the slope of the bureau and stretching out +his legs as props. ‘I am going to make this quite my +own home whenever I am off duty, as long as we stay out. +And after that, when the campaign is over in the autumn, I shall +come here, and live with you like your own son, and help manage +your land and your farm, you know, and make you a comfortable old +man.’</p> +<p>‘Ah! How you do please me!’ said the farmer, +with a horrified smile, and grasping the arms of his chair to +sustain himself.</p> +<p>‘Yes; I have been meaning to come a long time, as I knew +you’d like to have me, Uncle Benjy; and ’tisn’t +in my heart to refuse you.’</p> +<p>‘You always was kind that way!’</p> +<p>‘Yes; I always was. But I ought to tell you at +once, not to disappoint you, that I shan’t be here +always—all day, that is, because of my military duties as a +cavalry man.’</p> +<p>‘O, not always? That’s a pity!’ +exclaimed the farmer with a cheerful eye.</p> +<p>‘I knew you’d say so. And I shan’t be +able to sleep here at night sometimes, for the same +reason.’</p> +<p>‘Not sleep here o’ nights?’ said the old +gentleman, still more relieved. ‘You ought to sleep +here—you certainly ought; in short, you must. But you +can’t!’</p> +<p>‘Not while we are with the colours. But directly +that’s over—the very next day—I’ll stay +here all day, and all night too, to oblige you, since you ask me +so very kindly.’</p> +<p>‘Th-thank ye, that will be very nice!’ said Uncle +Benjy.</p> +<p>‘Yes, I knew ’twould relieve ye.’ And +he kindly stroked his uncle’s head, the old man expressing +his enjoyment at the affectionate token by a death’s-head +grimace. ‘I should have called to see you the other +night when I passed through here,’ Festus continued; +‘but it was so late that I couldn’t come so far out +of my way. You won’t think it unkind?’</p> +<p>‘Not at all, if you <i>couldn’t</i>. I never +shall think it unkind if you really <i>can’t</i> come, you +know, Festy.’ There was a few minutes’ pause, +and as the nephew said nothing Uncle Benjy went on: ‘I wish +I had a little present for ye. But as ill-luck would have +it we have lost a deal of stock this year, and I have had to pay +away so much.’</p> +<p>‘Poor old man—I know you have. Shall I lend +you a seven-shilling piece, Uncle Benjy?’</p> +<p>‘Ha, ha!—you must have your joke; well, I’ll +think o’ that. And so they expect Buonaparty to +choose this very part of the coast for his landing, hey? +And that the yeomanry be to stand in front as the forlorn +hope?’</p> +<p>‘Who says so?’ asked the florid son of Mars, +losing a little redness.</p> +<p>‘The newspaper-man.’</p> +<p>‘O, there’s nothing in that,’ said Festus +bravely. ‘The gover’ment thought it possible at +one time; but they don’t know.’</p> +<p>Festus turned himself as he talked, and now said abruptly: +‘Ah, who’s this? Why, ’tis our little +Anne!’ He had not noticed her till this moment, the +young woman having at his entry kept her face over the newspaper, +and then got away to the back part of the room. ‘And +are you and your mother always going to stay down there in the +mill-house watching the little fishes, Miss Anne?’</p> +<p>She said that it was uncertain, in a tone of truthful +precision which the question was hardly worth, looking forcedly +at him as she spoke. But she blushed fitfully, in her arms +and hands as much as in her face. Not that she was +overpowered by the great boots, formidable spurs, and other +fierce appliances of his person, as he imagined; simply she had +not been prepared to meet him there.</p> +<p>‘I hope you will, I am sure, for my own good,’ +said he, letting his eyes linger on the round of her cheek.</p> +<p>Anne became a little more dignified, and her look showed +reserve. But the yeoman on perceiving this went on talking +to her in so civil a way that he irresistibly amused her, though +she tried to conceal all feeling. At a brighter remark of +his than usual her mouth moved, her upper lip playing uncertainly +over her white teeth; it would stay still—no, it would +withdraw a little way in a smile; then it would flutter down +again; and so it wavered like a butterfly in a tender desire to +be pleased and smiling, and yet to be also sedate and composed; +to show him that she did not want compliments, and yet that she +was not so cold as to wish to repress any genuine feeling he +might be anxious to utter.</p> +<p>‘Shall you want any more reading, Mr. Derriman?’ +said she, interrupting the younger man in his remarks. +‘If not, I’ll go homeward.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t let me hinder you longer,’ said +Festus. ‘I’m off in a minute or two, when your +man has cleaned my boots.’</p> +<p>‘Ye don’t hinder us, nephew. She must have +the paper: ’tis the day for her to have ’n. She +might read a little more, as I have had so little profit out +o’ en hitherto. Well, why don’t ye speak? +Will ye, or won’t ye, my dear?’</p> +<p>‘Not to two,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘Ho, ho! damn it, I must go then, I suppose,’ said +Festus, laughing; and unable to get a further glance from her he +left the room and clanked into the back yard, where he saw a man; +holding up his hand he cried, ‘Anthony +Cripplestraw!’</p> +<p>Cripplestraw came up in a trot, moved a lock of his hair and +replaced it, and said, ‘Yes, Maister Derriman.’ +He was old Mr. Derriman’s odd hand in the yard and garden, +and like his employer had no great pretensions to manly beauty, +owing to a limpness of backbone and speciality of mouth, which +opened on one side only, giving him a triangular smile.</p> +<p>‘Well, Cripplestraw, how is it to-day?’ said +Festus, with socially-superior heartiness.</p> +<p>‘Middlin’, considering, Maister Derriman. +And how’s yerself?’</p> +<p>‘Fairish. Well, now, see and clean these military +boots of mine. I’ll cock my foot up on this +bench. This pigsty of my uncle’s is not fit for a +soldier to come into.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, Maister Derriman, I will. No, ’tis not +fit, Maister Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘What stock has uncle lost this year, +Cripplestraw?’</p> +<p>‘Well, let’s see, sir. I can call to mind +that we’ve lost three chickens, a tom-pigeon, and a weakly +sucking-pig, one of a fare of ten. I can’t think of +no more, Maister Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘H’m, not a large quantity of cattle. The +old rascal!’</p> +<p>‘No, ’tis not a large quantity. Old what did +you say, sir?’</p> +<p>‘O nothing. He’s within there.’ +Festus flung his forehead in the direction of a right line +towards the inner apartment. ‘He’s a regular +sniche one.’</p> +<p>‘Hee, hee; fie, fie, Master Derriman!’ said +Cripplestraw, shaking his head in delighted censure. +‘Gentlefolks shouldn’t talk so. And an officer, +Mr. Derriman! ’Tis the duty of all cavalry gentlemen +to bear in mind that their blood is a knowed thing in the +country, and not to speak ill o’t.’</p> +<p>‘He’s close-fisted.’</p> +<p>‘Well, maister, he is—I own he is a little. +’Tis the nater of some old venerable gentlemen to be +so. We’ll hope he’ll treat ye well in yer +fortune, sir.’</p> +<p>‘Hope he will. Do people talk about me here, +Cripplestraw?’ asked the yeoman, as the other continued +busy with his boots.</p> +<p>‘Well, yes, sir; they do off and on, you know. +They says you be as fine a piece of calvery flesh and bones as +was ever growed on fallow-ground; in short, all owns that you be +a fine fellow, sir. I wish I wasn’t no more afraid of +the French than you be; but being in the Locals, Maister +Derriman, I assure ye I dream of having to defend my country +every night; and I don’t like the dream at all.’</p> +<p>‘You should take it careless, Cripplestraw, as I do; and +’twould soon come natural to you not to mind it at +all. Well, a fine fellow is not everything, you know. +O no. There’s as good as I in the army, and even +better.’</p> +<p>‘And they say that when you fall this summer, +you’ll die like a man.’</p> +<p>‘When I fall?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, sure, Maister Derriman. Poor soul o’ +thee! I shan’t forget ’ee as you lie mouldering +in yer soldier’s grave.’</p> +<p>‘Hey?’ said the warrior uneasily. +‘What makes ’em think I am going to fall?’</p> +<p>‘Well, sir, by all accounts the yeomanry will be put in +front.’</p> +<p>‘Front! That’s what my uncle has been +saying.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, and by all accounts ’tis true. And +naterelly they’ll be mowed down like grass; and you among +’em, poor young galliant officer!’</p> +<p>‘Look here, Cripplestraw. This is a reg’lar +foolish report. How can yeomanry be put in front? +Nobody’s put in front. We yeomanry have nothing to do +with Buonaparte’s landing. We shall be away in a safe +place, guarding the possessions and jewels. Now, can you +see, Cripplestraw, any way at all that the yeomanry can be put in +front? Do you think they really can?’</p> +<p>‘Well, maister, I am afraid I do,’ said the +cheering Cripplestraw. ‘And I know a great warrior +like you is only too glad o’ the chance. ’Twill +be a great thing for ye, death and glory! In short, I hope +from my heart you will be, and I say so very often to +folk—in fact, I pray at night for’t.’</p> +<p>‘O! cuss you! you needn’t pray about +it.’</p> +<p>‘No, Maister Derriman, I won’t.’</p> +<p>‘Of course my sword will do its duty. That’s +enough. And now be off with ye.’</p> +<p>Festus gloomily returned to his uncle’s room and found +that Anne was just leaving. He was inclined to follow her +at once, but as she gave him no opportunity for doing this he +went to the window, and remained tapping his fingers against the +shutter while she crossed the yard.</p> +<p>‘Well, nephy, you are not gone yet?’ said the +farmer, looking dubiously at Festus from under one eyelid. +‘You see how I am. Not by any means better, you see; +so I can’t entertain ’ee as well as I +would.’</p> +<p>‘You can’t, nunc, you can’t. I +don’t think you are worse—if I do, dash my wig. +But you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make me welcome +when you are better. If you are not so brisk inwardly as +you was, why not try change of air? This is a dull, damp +hole.’</p> +<p>‘’Tis, Festus; and I am thinking of +moving.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, where to?’ said Festus, with surprise and +interest.</p> +<p>‘Up into the garret in the north corner. There is +no fireplace in the room; but I shan’t want that, poor soul +o’ me.’</p> +<p>‘’Tis not moving far.’</p> +<p>‘’Tis not. But I have not a soul belonging +to me within ten mile; and you know very well that I +couldn’t afford to go to lodgings that I had to pay +for.’</p> +<p>‘I know it—I know it, Uncle Benjy! Well, +don’t be disturbed. I’ll come and manage for +you as soon as ever this Boney alarm is over; but when a +man’s country calls he must obey, if he is a +man.’</p> +<p>‘A splendid spirit!’ said Uncle Benjy, with much +admiration on the surface of his countenance. ‘I +never had it. How could it have got into the +boy?’</p> +<p>‘From my mother’s side, perhaps.’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps so. Well, take care of yourself, +nephy,’ said the farmer, waving his hand +impressively. ‘Take care! In these warlike +times your spirit may carry ye into the arms of the enemy; and +you are the last of the family. You should think of this, +and not let your bravery carry ye away.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t be disturbed, uncle; I’ll control +myself,’ said Festus, betrayed into self-complacency +against his will. ‘At least I’ll do what I can, +but nature will out sometimes. Well, I’m +off.’ He began humming ‘Brighton Camp,’ +and, promising to come again soon, retired with assurance, each +yard of his retreat adding private joyousness to his +uncle’s form.</p> +<p>When the bulky young man had disappeared through the +porter’s lodge, Uncle Benjy showed preternatural activity +for one in his invalid state, jumping up quickly without his +stick, at the same time opening and shutting his mouth quite +silently like a thirsty frog, which was his way of expressing +mirth. He ran upstairs as quick as an old squirrel, and +went to a dormer window which commanded a view of the grounds +beyond the gate, and the footpath that stretched across them to +the village.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes!’ he said in a suppressed scream, +dancing up and down, ‘he’s after her: she’ve +hit en!’ For there appeared upon the path the figure +of Anne Garland, and, hastening on at some little distance behind +her, the swaggering shape of Festus. She became conscious +of his approach, and moved more quickly. He moved more +quickly still, and overtook her. She turned as if in answer +to a call from him, and he walked on beside her, till they were +out of sight. The old man then played upon an imaginary +fiddle for about half a minute; and, suddenly discontinuing these +signs of pleasure, went downstairs again.</p> +<h2>VII. HOW THEY TALKED IN THE PASTURES</h2> +<p>‘You often come this way?’ said Festus to Anne +rather before he had overtaken her.</p> +<p>‘I come for the newspaper and other things,’ she +said, perplexed by a doubt whether he were there by accident or +design.</p> +<p>They moved on in silence, Festus beating the grass with his +switch in a masterful way. ‘Did you speak, +Mis’ess Anne?’ he asked.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Ten thousand pardons. I thought you did. +Now don’t let me drive you out of the path. I can +walk among the high grass and giltycups—they will not +yellow my stockings as they will yours. Well, what do you +think of a lot of soldiers coming to the neighbourhood in this +way?’</p> +<p>‘I think it is very lively, and a great change,’ +she said with demure seriousness.</p> +<p>‘Perhaps you don’t like us warriors as a +body?’</p> +<p>Anne smiled without replying.</p> +<p>‘Why, you are laughing!’ said the yeoman, looking +searchingly at her and blushing like a little fire. +‘What do you see to laugh at?’</p> +<p>‘Did I laugh?’ said Anne, a little scared at his +sudden mortification.</p> +<p>‘Why, yes; you know you did, you young sneerer,’ +he said like a cross baby. ‘You are laughing at +me—that’s who you are laughing at! I should +like to know what you would do without such as me if the French +were to drop in upon ye any night?’</p> +<p>‘Would you help to beat them off?’ said she.</p> +<p>‘Can you ask such a question? What are we +for? But you don’t think anything of +soldiers.’</p> +<p>O yes, she liked soldiers, she said, especially when they came +home from the wars, covered with glory; though when she thought +what doings had won them that glory she did not like them quite +so well. The gallant and appeased yeoman said he supposed +her to mean chopping off heads, blowing out brains, and that kind +of business, and thought it quite right that a tender-hearted +thing like her should feel a little horrified. But as for +him, he should not mind such another Blenheim this summer as the +army had fought a hundred years ago, or whenever it +was—dash his wig if he should mind it at all. +‘Hullo! now you are laughing again; yes, I saw +you!’ And the choleric Festus turned his blue eyes +and flushed face upon her as though he would read her +through. Anne strove valiantly to look calmly back; but her +eyes could not face his, and they fell. ‘You did +laugh!’ he repeated.</p> +<p>‘It was only a tiny little one,’ she murmured.</p> +<p>‘Ah—I knew you did!’ thundered he. +‘Now what was it you laughed at?’</p> +<p>‘I only—thought that you were—merely in the +yeomanry,’ she murmured slily.</p> +<p>‘And what of that?’</p> +<p>‘And the yeomanry only seem farmers that have lost their +senses.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes! I knew you meant some jeering o’ +that sort, Mistress Anne. But I suppose ’tis the way +of women, and I take no notice. I’ll confess that +some of us are no great things: but I know how to draw a sword, +don’t I?—say I don’t just to provoke +me.’</p> +<p>‘I am sure you do,’ said Anne sweetly. +‘If a Frenchman came up to you, Mr. Derriman, would you +take him on the hip, or on the thigh?’</p> +<p>‘Now you are flattering!’ he said, his white teeth +uncovering themselves in a smile. ‘Well, of course I +should draw my sword—no, I mean my sword would be already +drawn; and I should put spurs to my horse—charger, as we +call it in the army; and I should ride up to him and +say—no, I shouldn’t say anything, of course—men +never waste words in battle; I should take him with the third +guard, low point, and then coming back to the second +guard—’</p> +<p>‘But that would be taking care of yourself—not +hitting at him.’</p> +<p>‘How can you say that!’ he cried, the beams upon +his face turning to a lurid cloud in a moment. ‘How +can you understand military terms who’ve never had a sword +in your life? I shouldn’t take him with the sword at +all.’ He went on with eager sulkiness, ‘I +should take him with my pistol. I should pull off my right +glove, and throw back my goat-skin; then I should open my +priming-pan, prime, and cast about—no, I shouldn’t, +that’s wrong; I should draw my right pistol, and as soon as +loaded, seize the weapon by the butt; then at the word +“Cock your pistol” I should—’</p> +<p>‘Then there is plenty of time to give such words of +command in the heat of battle?’ said Anne innocently.</p> +<p>‘No!’ said the yeoman, his face again in +flames. ‘Why, of course I am only telling you what +<i>would</i> be the word of command <i>if</i>—there now! +you la—’</p> +<p>‘I didn’t; ’pon my word I +didn’t!’</p> +<p>‘No, I don’t think you did; it was my +mistake. Well, then I come smartly to Present, looking well +along the barrel—along the barrel—and fire. Of +course I know well enough how to engage the enemy! But I +expect my old uncle has been setting you against me.’</p> +<p>‘He has not said a word,’ replied Anne; +‘though I have heard of you, of course.’</p> +<p>‘What have you heard? Nothing good, I dare +say. It makes my blood boil within me!’</p> +<p>‘O, nothing bad,’ said she assuringly. +‘Just a word now and then.’</p> +<p>‘Now, come, tell me, there’s a dear. I +don’t like to be crossed. It shall be a sacred secret +between us. Come, now!’</p> +<p>Anne was embarrassed, and her smile was uncomfortable. +‘I shall not tell you,’ she said at last.</p> +<p>‘There it is again!’ said the yeoman, throwing +himself into a despair. ‘I shall soon begin to +believe that my name is not worth sixpence about here!’</p> +<p>‘I tell you ’twas nothing against you,’ +repeated Anne.</p> +<p>‘That means it might have been for me,’ said +Festus, in a mollified tone. ‘Well, though, to speak +the truth, I have a good many faults, some people will praise me, +I suppose. ’Twas praise?’</p> +<p>‘It was.’</p> +<p>‘Well, I am not much at farming, and I am not much in +company, and I am not much at figures, but perhaps I must own, +since it is forced upon me, that I can show as fine a +soldier’s figure on the Esplanade as any man of the +cavalry.’</p> +<p>‘You can,’ said Anne; for though her flesh crept +in mortal terror of his irascibility, she could not resist the +fearful pleasure of leading him on. ‘You look very +well; and some say, you are—’</p> +<p>‘What? Well, they say I am good-looking. I +don’t make myself, so ’tis no praise. Hullo! +what are you looking across there for?’</p> +<p>‘Only at a bird that I saw fly out of that tree,’ +said Anne.</p> +<p>‘What? Only at a bird, do you say?’ he +heaved out in a voice of thunder. ‘I see your +shoulders a-shaking, young madam. Now don’t you +provoke me with that laughing! By God, it won’t +do!’</p> +<p>‘Then go away!’ said Anne, changed from +mirthfulness to irritation by his rough manner. ‘I +don’t want your company, you great bragging thing! +You are so touchy there’s no bearing with you. Go +away!’</p> +<p>‘No, no, Anne; I am wrong to speak to you so. I +give you free liberty to say what you will to me. Say I am +not a bit of a soldier, or anything! Abuse me—do now, +there’s a dear. I’m scum, I’m froth, +I’m dirt before the besom—yes!’</p> +<p>‘I have nothing to say, sir. Stay where you are +till I am out of this field.’</p> +<p>‘Well, there’s such command in your looks that I +ha’n’t heart to go against you. You will come +this way to-morrow at the same time? Now, don’t be +uncivil.’</p> +<p>She was too generous not to forgive him, but the short little +lip murmured that she did not think it at all likely she should +come that way to-morrow.</p> +<p>‘Then Sunday?’ he said.</p> +<p>‘Not Sunday,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘Then Monday—Tuesday—Wednesday, +surely?’ he went on experimentally.</p> +<p>She answered that she should probably not see him on either +day, and, cutting short the argument, went through the wicket +into the other field. Festus paused, looking after her; and +when he could no longer see her slight figure he swept away his +deliberations, began singing, and turned off in the other +direction.</p> +<h2>VIII. ANNE MAKES A CIRCUIT OF THE CAMP</h2> +<p>When Anne was crossing the last field, she saw approaching her +an old woman with wrinkled cheeks, who surveyed the earth and its +inhabitants through the medium of brass-rimmed spectacles. +Shaking her head at Anne till the glasses shone like two moons, +she said, ‘Ah, ah; I zeed ye! If I had only kept on +my short ones that I use for reading the Collect and Gospel I +shouldn’t have zeed ye; but thinks I, I be going out +o’ doors, and I’ll put on my long ones, little +thinking what they’d show me. Ay, I can tell folk at +any distance with these—’tis a beautiful pair for out +o’ doors; though my short ones be best for close work, such +as darning, and catching fleas, that’s true.’</p> +<p>‘What have you seen, Granny Seamore?’ said +Anne.</p> +<p>‘Fie, fie, Miss Nancy! you know,’ said Granny +Seamore, shaking her head still. ‘But he’s a +fine young feller, and will have all his uncle’s money when +‘a’s gone.’ Anne said nothing to this, +and looking ahead with a smile passed Granny Seamore by.</p> +<p>Festus, the subject of the remark, was at this time about +three-and-twenty, a fine fellow as to feet and inches, and of a +remarkably warm tone in skin and hair. Symptoms of beard +and whiskers had appeared upon him at a very early age, owing to +his persistent use of the razor before there was any necessity +for its operation. The brave boy had scraped unseen in the +out-house, in the cellar, in the wood-shed, in the stable, in the +unused parlour, in the cow-stalls, in the barn, and wherever he +could set up his triangular bit of looking-glass without +observation, or extemporize a mirror by sticking up his hat on +the outside of a window-pane. The result now was that, did +he neglect to use the instrument he once had trifled with, a fine +rust broke out upon his countenance on the first day, a golden +lichen on the second, and a fiery stubble on the third to a +degree which admitted of no further postponement.</p> +<p>His disposition divided naturally into two, the boastful and +the cantankerous. When Festus put on the big pot, as it is +classically called, he was quite blinded ipso facto to the +diverting effect of that mood and manner upon others; but when +disposed to be envious or quarrelsome he was rather shrewd than +otherwise, and could do some pretty strokes of satire. He +was both liked and abused by the girls who knew him, and though +they were pleased by his attentions, they never failed to +ridicule him behind his back. In his cups (he knew those +vessels, though only twenty-three) he first became noisy, then +excessively friendly, and then invariably nagging. During +childhood he had made himself renowned for his pleasant habit of +pouncing down upon boys smaller and poorer than himself, and +knocking their birds’ nests out of their hands, or +overturning their little carts of apples, or pouring water down +their backs; but his conduct became singularly the reverse of +aggressive the moment the little boys’ mothers ran out to +him, brandishing brooms, frying-pans, skimmers, and whatever else +they could lay hands on by way of weapons. He then fled and +hid behind bushes, under faggots, or in pits till they had gone +away; and on one such occasion was known to creep into a +badger’s hole quite out of sight, maintaining that post +with great firmness and resolution for two or three hours. +He had brought more vulgar exclamations upon the tongues of +respectable parents in his native parish than any other boy of +his time. When other youngsters snowballed him he ran into +a place of shelter, where he kneaded snowballs of his own, with a +stone inside, and used these formidable missiles in returning +their pleasantry. Sometimes he got fearfully beaten by boys +his own age, when he would roar most lustily, but fight on in the +midst of his tears, blood, and cries.</p> +<p>He was early in love, and had at the time of the story +suffered from the ravages of that passion thirteen distinct +times. He could not love lightly and gaily; his love was +earnest, cross-tempered, and even savage. It was a positive +agony to him to be ridiculed by the object of his affections, and +such conduct drove him into a frenzy if persisted in. He +was a torment to those who behaved humbly towards him, cynical +with those who denied his superiority, and a very nice fellow +towards those who had the courage to ill-use him.</p> +<p>This stalwart gentleman and Anne Garland did not cross each +other’s paths again for a week. Then her mother began +as before about the newspaper, and, though Anne did not much like +the errand, she agreed to go for it on Mrs. Garland pressing her +with unusual anxiety. Why her mother was so persistent on +so small a matter quite puzzled the girl; but she put on her hat +and started.</p> +<p>As she had expected, Festus appeared at a stile over which she +sometimes went for shortness’ sake, and showed by his +manner that he awaited her. When she saw this she kept +straight on, as if she would not enter the park at all.</p> +<p>‘Surely this is your way?’ said Festus.</p> +<p>‘I was thinking of going round by the road,’ she +said.</p> +<p>‘Why is that?’</p> +<p>She paused, as if she were not inclined to say. ‘I +go that way when the grass is wet,’ she returned at +last.</p> +<p>‘It is not wet now,’ he persisted; ‘the sun +has been shining on it these nine hours.’ The fact +was that the way by the path was less open than by the road, and +Festus wished to walk with her uninterrupted. ‘But, +of course, it is nothing to me what you do.’ He flung +himself from the stile and walked away towards the house.</p> +<p>Anne, supposing him really indifferent, took the same way, +upon which he turned his head and waited for her with a proud +smile.</p> +<p>‘I cannot go with you,’ she said decisively.</p> +<p>‘Nonsense, you foolish girl! I must walk along +with you down to the corner.’</p> +<p>‘No, please, Mr. Derriman; we might be seen.’</p> +<p>‘Now, now—that’s shyness!’ he said +jocosely.</p> +<p>‘No; you know I cannot let you.’</p> +<p>‘But I must.’</p> +<p>‘But I do not allow it.’</p> +<p>‘Allow it or not, I will.’</p> +<p>‘Then you are unkind, and I must submit,’ she +said, her eyes brimming with tears.</p> +<p>‘Ho, ho; what a shame of me! My wig, I won’t +do any such thing for the world,’ said the repentant +yeoman. ‘Haw, haw; why, I thought your “go +away” meant “come on,” as it does with so many +of the women I meet, especially in these clothes. Who was +to know you were so confoundedly serious?’</p> +<p>As he did not go Anne stood still and said nothing.</p> +<p>‘I see you have a deal more caution and a deal less +good-nature than I ever thought you had,’ he continued +emphatically.</p> +<p>‘No, sir; it is not any planned manner of mine at +all,’ she said earnestly. ‘But you will see, I +am sure, that I could not go down to the hall with you without +putting myself in a wrong light.’</p> +<p>‘Yes; that’s it, that’s it. I am only +a fellow in the yeomanry cavalry—a plain soldier, I may +say; and we know what women think of such: that they are a bad +lot—men you mustn’t speak to for fear of losing your +character—chaps you avoid in the roads—chaps that +come into a house like oxen, daub the stairs wi’ their +boots, stain the furniture wi’ their drink, talk rubbish to +the servants, abuse all that’s holy and righteous, and are +only saved from being carried off by Old Nick because they are +wanted for Boney.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed, I didn’t know you were thought so bad of +as that,’ said she simply.</p> +<p>‘What! don’t my uncle complain to you of me? +You are a favourite of that handsome, nice old gaffer’s, I +know.’</p> +<p>‘Never.’</p> +<p>‘Well, what do we think of our nice trumpet-major, +hey?’</p> +<p>Anne closed her mouth up tight, built it up, in fact, to show +that no answer was coming to that question.</p> +<p>‘O now, come, seriously, Loveday is a good fellow, and +so is his father.’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know.’</p> +<p>‘What a close little rogue you are! There is no +getting anything out of you. I believe you would say +“I don’t know,” to every mortal question, so +very discreet as you are. Upon my heart, there are some +women who would say “I don’t know,” to +“Will ye marry me?”’</p> +<p>The brightness upon Anne’s cheek and in her eyes during +this remark showed that there was a fair quantity of life and +warmth beneath the discretion he complained of. Having +spoken thus, he drew aside that she might pass, and bowed very +low. Anne formally inclined herself and went on.</p> +<p>She had been at vexation point all the time that he was +present, from a haunting sense that he would not have spoken to +her so freely had she been a young woman with thriving male +relatives to keep forward admirers in check. But she had +been struck, now as at their previous meeting, with the power she +possessed of working him up either to irritation or to +complacency at will; and this consciousness of being able to play +upon him as upon an instrument disposed her to a humorous +considerateness, and made her tolerate even while she rebuffed +him.</p> +<p>When Anne got to the hall the farmer, as usual, insisted upon +her reading what he had been unable to get through, and held the +paper tightly in his skinny hand till she had agreed. He +sent her to a hard chair that she could not possibly injure to +the extent of a pennyworth by sitting in it a twelvemonth, and +watched her from the outer angle of his near eye while she bent +over the paper. His look might have been suggested by the +sight that he had witnessed from his window on the last occasion +of her visit, for it partook of the nature of concern. The +old man was afraid of his nephew, physically and morally, and he +began to regard Anne as a fellow-sufferer under the same +despot. After this sly and curious gaze at her he withdrew +his eye again, so that when she casually lifted her own there was +nothing visible but his keen bluish profile as before.</p> +<p>When the reading was about half-way through, the door behind +them opened, and footsteps crossed the threshold. The +farmer diminished perceptibly in his chair, and looked fearful, +but pretended to be absorbed in the reading, and quite +unconscious of an intruder. Anne felt the presence of the +swashing Festus, and stopped her reading.</p> +<p>‘Please go on, Miss Anne,’ he said, ‘I am +not going to speak a word.’ He withdrew to the +mantelpiece and leaned against it at his ease.</p> +<p>‘Go on, do ye, maidy Anne,’ said Uncle Benjy, +keeping down his tremblings by a great effort to half their +natural extent.</p> +<p>Anne’s voice became much lower now that there were two +listeners, and her modesty shrank somewhat from exposing to +Festus the appreciative modulations which an intelligent interest +in the subject drew from her when unembarrassed. But she +still went on that he might not suppose her to be disconcerted, +though the ensuing ten minutes was one of disquietude. She +knew that the bothering yeoman’s eyes were travelling over +her from his position behind, creeping over her shoulders, up to +her head, and across her arms and hands. Old Benjy on his +part knew the same thing, and after sundry endeavours to peep at +his nephew from the corner of his eye, he could bear the +situation no longer.</p> +<p>‘Do ye want to say anything to me, nephew?’ he +quaked.</p> +<p>‘No, uncle, thank ye,’ said Festus heartily. +‘I like to stay here, thinking of you and looking at your +back hair.’</p> +<p>The nervous old man writhed under this vivisection, and Anne +read on; till, to the relief of both, the gallant fellow grew +tired of his amusement and went out of the room. Anne soon +finished her paragraph and rose to go, determined never to come +again as long as Festus haunted the precincts. Her face +grew warmer as she thought that he would be sure to waylay her on +her journey home to-day.</p> +<p>On this account, when she left the house, instead of going in +the customary direction, she bolted round to the further side, +through the bushes, along under the kitchen-garden wall, and +through a door leading into a rutted cart-track, which had been a +pleasant gravelled drive when the fine old hall was in its +prosperity. Once out of sight of the windows she ran with +all her might till she had quitted the park by a route directly +opposite to that towards her home. Why she was so seriously +bent upon doing this she could hardly tell but the instinct to +run was irresistible.</p> +<p>It was necessary now to clamber over the down to the left of +the camp, and make a complete circuit round the +latter—infantry, cavalry, sutlers, and all—descending +to her house on the other side. This tremendous walk she +performed at a rapid rate, never once turning her head, and +avoiding every beaten track to keep clear of the knots of +soldiers taking a walk. When she at last got down to the +levels again she paused to fetch breath, and murmured, ‘Why +did I take so much trouble? He would not, after all, have +hurt me.’</p> +<p>As she neared the mill an erect figure with a blue body and +white thighs descended before her from the down towards the +village, and went past the mill to a stile beyond, over which she +usually returned to her house. Here he lingered. On +coming nearer Anne discovered this person to be Trumpet-major +Loveday; and not wishing to meet anybody just now Anne passed +quickly on, and entered the house by the garden door.</p> +<p>‘My dear Anne, what a time you have been gone!’ +said her mother.</p> +<p>‘Yes, I have been round by another road.’</p> +<p>‘Why did you do that?’</p> +<p>Anne looked thoughtful and reticent, for her reason was almost +too silly a one to confess. ‘Well, I wanted to avoid +a person who is very busy trying to meet me—that’s +all,’ she said.</p> +<p>Her mother glanced out of the window. ‘And there +he is, I suppose,’ she said, as John Loveday, tired of +looking for Anne at the stile, passed the house on his way to his +father’s door. He could not help casting his eyes +towards their window, and, seeing them, he smiled.</p> +<p>Anne’s reluctance to mention Festus was such that she +did not correct her mother’s error, and the dame went on: +‘Well, you are quite right, my dear. Be friendly with +him, but no more at present. I have heard of your other +affair, and think it is a very wise choice. I am sure you +have my best wishes in it, and I only hope it will come to a +point.’</p> +<p>‘What’s that?’ said the astonished Anne.</p> +<p>‘You and Mr. Festus Derriman, dear. You need not +mind me; I have known it for several days. Old Granny +Seamore called here Saturday, and told me she saw him coming home +with you across Park Close last week, when you went for the +newspaper; so I thought I’d send you again to-day, and give +you another chance.’</p> +<p>‘Then you didn’t want the paper—and it was +only for that!’</p> +<p>‘He’s a very fine young fellow; he looks a +thorough woman’s protector.’</p> +<p>‘He may look it,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘He has given up the freehold farm his father held at +Pitstock, and lives in independence on what the land brings +him. And when Farmer Derriman dies, he’ll have all +the old man’s, for certain. He’ll be worth ten +thousand pounds, if a penny, in money, besides sixteen horses, +cart and hack, a fifty-cow dairy, and at least five hundred +sheep.’</p> +<p>Anne turned away, and instead of informing her mother that she +had been running like a doe to escape the interesting +heir-presumptive alluded to, merely said ‘Mother, I +don’t like this at all.’</p> +<h2>IX. ANNE IS KINDLY FETCHED BY THE TRUMPET-MAJOR</h2> +<p>After this, Anne would on no account walk in the direction of +the hall for fear of another encounter with young Derriman. +In the course of a few days it was told in the village that the +old farmer had actually gone for a week’s holiday and +change of air to the Royal watering-place near at hand, at the +instance of his nephew Festus. This was a wonderful thing +to hear of Uncle Benjy, who had not slept outside the walls of +Oxwell Hall for many a long year before; and Anne well imagined +what extraordinary pressure must have been put upon him to induce +him to take such a step. She pictured his unhappiness at +the bustling watering-place, and hoped no harm would come to +him.</p> +<p>She spent much of her time indoors or in the garden, hearing +little of the camp movements beyond the periodical Ta-ta-ta-taa +of the trumpeters sounding their various ingenious calls for +watch-setting, stables, feed, boot-and-saddle, parade, and so on, +which made her think how clever her friend the trumpet-major must +be to teach his pupils to play those pretty little tunes so +well.</p> +<p>On the third morning after Uncle Benjy’s departure, she +was disturbed as usual while dressing by the tramp of the troops +down the slope to the mill-pond, and during the now familiar +stamping and splashing which followed there sounded upon the +glass of the window a slight smack, which might have been caused +by a whip or switch. She listened more particularly, and it +was repeated.</p> +<p>As John Loveday was the only dragoon likely to be aware that +she slept in that particular apartment, she imagined the signal +to come from him, though wondering that he should venture upon +such a freak of familiarity.</p> +<p>Wrapping herself up in a red cloak, she went to the window, +gently drew up a corner of the curtain, and peeped out, as she +had done many times before. Nobody who was not quite close +beneath her window could see her face; but as it happened, +somebody was close. The soldiers whose floundering Anne had +heard were not Loveday’s dragoons, but a troop of the York +Hussars, quite oblivious of her existence. They had passed +on out of the water, and instead of them there sat Festus +Derriman alone on his horse, and in plain clothes, the water +reaching up to the animal’s belly, and Festus’ heels +elevated over the saddle to keep them out of the stream, which +threatened to wash rider and horse into the deep mill-head just +below. It was plainly he who had struck her lattice, for in +a moment he looked up, and their eyes met. Festus laughed +loudly, and slapped her window again; and just at that moment the +dragoons began prancing down the slope in review order. She +could not but wait a minute or two to see them pass. While +doing so she was suddenly led to draw back, drop the corner of +the curtain, and blush privately in her room. She had not +only been seen by Festus Derriman, but by John Loveday, who, +riding along with his trumpet slung up behind him, had looked +over his shoulder at the phenomenon of Derriman beneath +Anne’s bedroom window and seemed quite astounded at the +sight.</p> +<p>She was quite vexed at the conjunction of incidents, and went +no more to the window till the dragoons had ridden far away and +she had heard Festus’s horse laboriously wade on to dry +land. When she looked out there was nobody left but Miller +Loveday, who usually stood in the garden at this time of the +morning to say a word or two to the soldiers, of whom he already +knew so many, and was in a fair way of knowing many more, from +the liberality with which he handed round mugs of cheering liquor +whenever parties of them walked that way.</p> +<p>In the afternoon of this day Anne walked to a christening +party at a neighbour’s in the adjoining parish of +Springham, intending to walk home again before it got dark; but +there was a slight fall of rain towards evening, and she was +pressed by the people of the house to stay over the night. +With some hesitation she accepted their hospitality; but at ten +o’clock, when they were thinking of going to bed, they were +startled by a smart rap at the door, and on it being unbolted a +man’s form was seen in the shadows outside.</p> +<p>‘Is Miss Garland here?’ the visitor inquired, at +which Anne suspended her breath.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said Anne’s entertainer, warily.</p> +<p>‘Her mother is very anxious to know what’s become +of her. She promised to come home.’ To her +great relief Anne recognized the voice as John Loveday’s, +and not Festus Derriman’s.</p> +<p>‘Yes, I did, Mr. Loveday,’ said she, coming +forward; ‘but it rained, and I thought my mother would +guess where I was.’</p> +<p>Loveday said with diffidence that it had not rained anything +to speak of at the camp, or at the mill, so that her mother was +rather alarmed.</p> +<p>‘And she asked you to come for me?’ Anne +inquired.</p> +<p>This was a question which the trumpet-major had been dreading +during the whole of his walk thither. ‘Well, she +didn’t exactly ask me,’ he said rather lamely, but +still in a manner to show that Mrs. Garland had indirectly +signified such to be her wish. In reality Mrs. Garland had +not addressed him at all on the subject. She had merely +spoken to his father on finding that her daughter did not return, +and received an assurance from the miller that the precious girl +was doubtless quite safe. John heard of this inquiry, and, +having a pass that evening, resolved to relieve Mrs. +Garland’s mind on his own responsibility. Ever since +his morning view of Festus under her window he had been on thorns +of anxiety, and his thrilling hope now was that she would walk +back with him.</p> +<p>He shifted his foot nervously as he made the bold +request. Anne felt at once that she would go. There +was nobody in the world whose care she would more readily be +under than the trumpet-major’s in a case like the +present. He was their nearest neighbour’s son, and +she had liked his single-minded ingenuousness from the first +moment of his return home.</p> +<p>When they had started on their walk, Anne said in a practical +way, to show that there was no sentiment whatever in her +acceptance of his company, ‘Mother was much alarmed about +me, perhaps?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; she was uneasy,’ he said; and then was +compelled by conscience to make a clean breast of it. +‘I know she was uneasy, because my father said so. +But I did not see her myself. The truth is, she +doesn’t know I am come.’</p> +<p>Anne now saw how the matter stood; but she was not offended +with him. What woman could have been? They walked on +in silence, the respectful trumpet-major keeping a yard off on +her right as precisely as if that measure had been fixed between +them. She had a great feeling of civility toward him this +evening, and spoke again. ‘I often hear your +trumpeters blowing the calls. They do it beautifully, I +think.’</p> +<p>‘Pretty fair; they might do better,’ said he, as +one too well-mannered to make much of an accomplishment in which +he had a hand.</p> +<p>‘And you taught them how to do it?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I taught them.’</p> +<p>‘It must require wonderful practice to get them into the +way of beginning and finishing so exactly at one time. It +is like one throat doing it all. How came you to be a +trumpeter, Mr. Loveday?’</p> +<p>‘Well, I took to it naturally when I was a little +boy,’ said he, betrayed into quite a gushing state by her +delightful interest. ‘I used to make trumpets of +paper, eldersticks, eltrot stems, and even stinging-nettle +stalks, you know. Then father set me to keep the birds off +that little barley-ground of his, and gave me an old horn to +frighten ’em with. I learnt to blow that horn so that +you could hear me for miles and miles. Then he bought me a +clarionet, and when I could play that I borrowed a serpent, and I +learned to play a tolerable bass. So when I ‘listed I +was picked out for training as trumpeter at once.’</p> +<p>‘Of course you were.’</p> +<p>‘Sometimes, however, I wish I had never joined the +army. My father gave me a very fair education, and your +father showed me how to draw horses—on a slate, I +mean. Yes, I ought to have done more than I +have.’</p> +<p>‘What, did you know my father?’ she asked with new +interest.</p> +<p>‘O yes, for years. You were a little mite of a +thing then; and you used to cry when we big boys looked at you, +and made pig’s eyes at you, which we did sometimes. +Many and many a time have I stood by your poor father while he +worked. Ah, you don’t remember much about him; but I +do!’</p> +<p>Anne remained thoughtful; and the moon broke from behind the +clouds, lighting up the wet foliage with a twinkling brightness, +and lending to each of the trumpet-major’s buttons and +spurs a little ray of its own. They had come to Oxwell park +gate, and he said, ‘Do you like going across, or round by +the lane?’</p> +<p>‘We may as well go by the nearest road,’ said +Anne.</p> +<p>They entered the park, following the half-obliterated drive +till they came almost opposite the hall, when they entered a +footpath leading on to the village. While hereabout they +heard a shout, or chorus of exclamation, apparently from within +the walls of the dark buildings near them.</p> +<p>‘What was that?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘I don’t know,’ said her companion. +‘I’ll go and see.’</p> +<p>He went round the intervening swamp of watercress and +brooklime which had once been the fish-pond, crossed by a culvert +the trickling brook that still flowed that way, and advanced to +the wall of the house. Boisterous noises were resounding +from within, and he was tempted to go round the corner, where the +low windows were, and look through a chink into the room whence +the sounds proceeded.</p> +<p>It was the room in which the owner dined—traditionally +called the great parlour—and within it sat about a dozen +young men of the yeomanry cavalry, one of them being +Festus. They were drinking, laughing, singing, thumping +their fists on the tables, and enjoying themselves in the very +perfection of confusion. The candles, blown by the breeze +from the partly opened window, had guttered into coffin handles +and shrouds, and, choked by their long black wicks for want of +snuffing, gave out a smoky yellow light. One of the young +men might possibly have been in a maudlin state, for he had his +arm round the neck of his next neighbour. Another was +making an incoherent speech to which nobody was listening. +Some of their faces were red, some were sallow; some were sleepy, +some wide awake. The only one among them who appeared in +his usual frame of mind was Festus, whose huge, burly form rose +at the head of the table, enjoying with a serene and triumphant +aspect the difference between his own condition and that of his +neighbours. While the trumpet-major looked, a young woman, +niece of Anthony Cripplestraw, and one of Uncle Benjy’s +servants, was called in by one of the crew, and much against her +will a fiddle was placed in her hands, from which they made her +produce discordant screeches.</p> +<p>The absence of Uncle Benjy had, in fact, been contrived by +young Derriman that he might make use of the hall on his own +account. Cripplestraw had been left in charge, and Festus +had found no difficulty in forcing from that dependent the keys +of whatever he required. John Loveday turned his eyes from +the scene to the neighbouring moonlit path, where Anne still +stood waiting. Then he looked into the room, then at Anne +again. It was an opportunity of advancing his own cause +with her by exposing Festus, for whom he began to entertain +hostile feelings of no mean force.</p> +<p>‘No; I can’t do it,’ he said. +‘’Tis underhand. Let things take their +chance.’</p> +<p>He moved away, and then perceived that Anne, tired of waiting, +had crossed the stream, and almost come up with him.</p> +<p>‘What is the noise about?’ she said.</p> +<p>‘There’s company in the house,’ said +Loveday.</p> +<p>‘Company? Farmer Derriman is not at home,’ +said Anne, and went on to the window whence the rays of light +leaked out, the trumpet-major standing where he was. He saw +her face enter the beam of candlelight, stay there for a moment, +and quickly withdraw. She came back to him at once. +‘Let us go on,’ she said.</p> +<p>Loveday imagined from her tone that she must have an interest +in Derriman, and said sadly, ‘You blame me for going across +to the window, and leading you to follow me.’</p> +<p>‘Not a bit,’ said Anne, seeing his mistake as to +the state of her heart, and being rather angry with him for +it. ‘I think it was most natural, considering the +noise.’</p> +<p>Silence again. ‘Derriman is sober as a +judge,’ said Loveday, as they turned to go. ‘It +was only the others who were noisy.’</p> +<p>‘Whether he is sober or not is nothing whatever to +me,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Of course not. I know it,’ said the +trumpet-major, in accents expressing unhappiness at her somewhat +curt tone, and some doubt of her assurance.</p> +<p>Before they had emerged from the shadow of the hall some +persons were seen moving along the road. Loveday was for +going on just the same; but Anne, from a shy feeling that it was +as well not to be seen walking alone with a man who was not her +lover, said—</p> +<p>‘Mr. Loveday, let us wait here a minute till they have +passed.’</p> +<p>On nearer view the group was seen to comprise a man on a +piebald horse, and another man walking beside him. When +they were opposite the house they halted, and the rider +dismounted, whereupon a dispute between him and the other man +ensued, apparently on a question of money.</p> +<p>‘’Tis old Mr. Derriman come home!’ said +Anne. ‘He has hired that horse from the +bathing-machine to bring him. Only fancy!’</p> +<p>Before they had gone many steps further the farmer and his +companion had ended their dispute, and the latter mounted the +horse and cantered away, Uncle Benjy coming on to the house at a +nimble pace. As soon as he observed Loveday and Anne, he +fell into a feebler gait; when they came up he recognized +Anne.</p> +<p>‘And you have torn yourself away from King +George’s Esplanade so soon, Farmer Derriman?’ said +she.</p> +<p>‘Yes, faith! I couldn’t bide at such a +ruination place,’ said the farmer. ‘Your hand +in your pocket every minute of the day. ’Tis a +shilling for this, half-a-crown for that; if you only eat one +egg, or even a poor windfall of an apple, you’ve got to +pay; and a bunch o’ radishes is a halfpenny, and a quart +o’ cider a good tuppence three-farthings at lowest +reckoning. Nothing without paying! I couldn’t +even get a ride homeward upon that screw without the man wanting +a shilling for it, when my weight didn’t take a penny out +of the beast. I’ve saved a penn’orth or so of +shoeleather to be sure; but the saddle was so rough wi’ +patches that ‘a took twopence out of the seat of my best +breeches. King George hev’ ruined the town for other +folks. More than that, my nephew promised to come there +to-morrow to see me, and if I had stayed I must have treated +en. Hey—what’s that?’</p> +<p>It was a shout from within the walls of the building, and +Loveday said—</p> +<p>‘Your nephew is here, and has company.’</p> +<p>‘My nephew <i>here</i>?’ gasped the old man. +‘Good folks, will you come up to the door with me? I +mean—hee—hee—just for company! Dear me, I +thought my house was as quiet as a church?’</p> +<p>They went back to the window, and the farmer looked in, his +mouth falling apart to a greater width at the corners than in the +middle, and his fingers assuming a state of radiation.</p> +<p>‘’Tis my best silver tankards they’ve got, +that I’ve never used! O! ’tis my strong +beer! ’Tis eight candles guttering away, when +I’ve used nothing but twenties myself for the last +half-year!’</p> +<p>‘You didn’t know he was here, then?’ said +Loveday.</p> +<p>‘O no!’ said the farmer, shaking his head +half-way. ‘Nothing’s known to poor I! +There’s my best rummers jingling as careless as if +’twas tin cups; and my table scratched, and my chairs +wrenched out of joint. See how they tilt ’em on the +two back legs—and that’s ruin to a chair! Ah! +when I be gone he won’t find another old man to make such +work with, and provide goods for his breaking, and house-room and +drink for his tear-brass set!’</p> +<p>‘Comrades and fellow-soldiers,’ said Festus to the +hot farmers and yeomen he entertained within, ‘as we have +vowed to brave danger and death together, so we’ll share +the couch of peace. You shall sleep here to-night, for it +is getting late. My scram blue-vinnied gallicrow of an +uncle takes care that there shan’t be much comfort in the +house, but you can curl up on the furniture if beds run +short. As for my sleep, it won’t be much. +I’m melancholy! A woman has, I may say, got my heart +in her pocket, and I have hers in mine. She’s not +much—to other folk, I mean—but she is to me. +The little thing came in my way, and conquered me. I fancy +that simple girl! I ought to have looked higher—I +know it; what of that? ’Tis a fate that may happen to +the greatest men.’</p> +<p>‘Whash her name?’ said one of the warriors, whose +head occasionally drooped upon his epaulettes, and whose eyes +fell together in the casual manner characteristic of the tired +soldier. (It was really Farmer Stubb, of Duddle Hole.)</p> +<p>‘Her name? Well, ’tis spelt, A, N—but, +by gad, I won’t give ye her name here in company. She +don’t live a hundred miles off, however, and she wears the +prettiest cap-ribbons you ever saw. Well, well, ’tis +weakness! She has little, and I have much; but I do adore +that girl, in spite of myself!’</p> +<p>‘Let’s go on,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Prithee stand by an old man till he’s got into +his house!’ implored Uncle Benjy. ‘I only ask +ye to bide within call. Stand back under the trees, and +I’ll do my poor best to give no trouble.’</p> +<p>‘I’ll stand by you for half-an-hour, sir,’ +said Loveday. ‘After that I must bolt to +camp.’</p> +<p>‘Very well; bide back there under the trees,’ said +Uncle Benjy. ‘I don’t want to spite +’em?’</p> +<p>‘You’ll wait a few minutes, just to see if he gets +in?’ said the trumpet-major to Anne as they retired from +the old man.</p> +<p>‘I want to get home,’ said Anne anxiously.</p> +<p>When they had quite receded behind the tree-trunks and he +stood alone, Uncle Benjy, to their surprise, set up a loud shout, +altogether beyond the imagined power of his lungs.</p> +<p>‘Man a-lost! man a-lost!’ he cried, repeating the +exclamation several times; and then ran and hid himself behind a +corner of the building. Soon the door opened, and Festus +and his guests came tumbling out upon the green.</p> +<p>‘’Tis our duty to help folks in distress,’ +said Festus. ‘Man a-lost, where are you?’</p> +<p>‘’Twas across there,’ said one of his +friends.</p> +<p>‘No! ’twas here,’ said another.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Uncle Benjy, coming from his hiding-place, had +scampered with the quickness of a boy up to the door they had +quitted, and slipped in. In a moment the door flew +together, and Anne heard him bolting and barring it inside. +The revellers, however, did not notice this, and came on towards +the spot where the trumpet-major and Anne were standing.</p> +<p>‘Here’s succour at hand, friends,’ said +Festus. ‘We are all king’s men; do not fear +us.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you,’ said Loveday; ‘so are +we.’ He explained in two words that they were not the +distressed traveller who had cried out, and turned to go on.</p> +<p>‘’Tis she! my life, ’tis she said Festus, +now first recognizing Anne. ‘Fair Anne, I will not +part from you till I see you safe at your own dear +door.’</p> +<p>‘She’s in my hands,’ said Loveday civilly, +though not without firmness, ‘so it is not required, thank +you.’</p> +<p>‘Man, had I but my sword—’</p> +<p>‘Come,’ said Loveday, ‘I don’t want to +quarrel. Let’s put it to her. Whichever of us +she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss Anne, +which?’</p> +<p>Anne would much rather have gone home alone, but seeing the +remainder of the yeomanry party staggering up she thought it best +to secure a protector of some kind. How to choose one +without offending the other and provoking a quarrel was the +difficulty.</p> +<p>‘You must both walk home with me,’ she adroitly +said, ‘one on one side, and one on the other. And if +you are not quite civil to one another all the time, I’ll +never speak to either of you again.’</p> +<p>They agreed to the terms, and the other yeomen arriving at +this time said they would go also as rearguard.</p> +<p>‘Very well,’ said Anne. ‘Now go and +get your hats, and don’t be long.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, yes; our hats,’ said the yeomanry, whose +heads were so hot that they had forgotten their nakedness till +then.</p> +<p>‘You’ll wait till we’ve got +’em—we won’t be a moment,’ said Festus +eagerly.</p> +<p>Anne and Loveday said yes, and Festus ran back to the house, +followed by all his band.</p> +<p>‘Now let’s run and leave ’em,’ said +Anne, when they were out of hearing.</p> +<p>‘But we’ve promised to wait!’ said the +trumpet-major in surprise.</p> +<p>‘Promised to wait!’ said Anne indignantly. +‘As if one ought to keep such a promise to drunken men as +that. You can do as you like, I shall go.’</p> +<p>‘It is hardly fair to leave the chaps,’ said +Loveday reluctantly, and looking back at them. But she +heard no more, and flitting off under the trees, was soon lost to +his sight.</p> +<p>Festus and the rest had by this time reached Uncle +Benjy’s door, which they were discomfited and astonished to +find closed. They began to knock, and then to kick at the +venerable timber, till the old man’s head, crowned with a +tasselled nightcap, appeared at an upper window, followed by his +shoulders, with apparently nothing on but his shirt, though it +was in truth a sheet thrown over his coat.</p> +<p>‘Fie, fie upon ye all for making such a hullaballoo at a +weak old man’s door,’ he said, yawning. +‘What’s in ye to rouse honest folks at this time +o’ night?’</p> +<p>‘Hang me—why—it’s Uncle Benjy! +Haw—haw—haw?’ said Festus. ‘Nunc, +why how the devil’s this? ’Tis +I—Festus—wanting to come in.’</p> +<p>‘O no, no, my clever man, whoever you be!’ said +Uncle Benjy in a tone of incredulous integrity. ‘My +nephew, dear boy, is miles away at quarters, and sound asleep by +this time, as becomes a good soldier. That story +won’t do to-night, my man, not at all.’</p> +<p>‘Upon my soul ’tis I,’ said Festus.</p> +<p>‘Not to-night, my man; not to-night! Anthony, +bring my blunderbuss,’ said the farmer, turning and +addressing nobody inside the room.</p> +<p>‘Let’s break in the window-shutters,’ said +one of the others.</p> +<p>‘My wig, and we will!’ said Festus. +‘What a trick of the old man!’</p> +<p>‘Get some big stones,’ said the yeomen, searching +under the wall.</p> +<p>‘No; forbear, forbear,’ said Festus, beginning to +be frightened at the spirit he had raised. ‘I forget; +we should drive him into fits, for he’s subject to +’em, and then perhaps ’twould be manslaughter. +Comrades, we must march! No, we’ll lie in the +barn. I’ll see into this, take my word for +‘t. Our honour is at stake. Now let’s +back to see my beauty home.’</p> +<p>‘We can’t, as we hav’n’t got our +hats,’ said one of his fellow-troopers—in domestic +life Jacob Noakes, of Muckleford Farm.</p> +<p>‘No more we can,’ said Festus, in a melancholy +tone. ‘But I must go to her and tell her the +reason. She pulls me in spite of all.’</p> +<p>‘She’s gone. I saw her flee across park +while we were knocking at the door,’ said another of the +yeomanry.</p> +<p>‘Gone!’ said Festus, grinding his teeth and +putting himself into a rigid shape. ‘Then ’tis +my enemy—he has tempted her away with him! But I am a +rich man, and he’s poor, and rides the King’s horse +while I ride my own. Could I but find that fellow, that +regular, that common man, I would—’</p> +<p>‘Yes?’ said the trumpet-major, coming up behind +him.</p> +<p>‘I,’—said Festus, starting +round,—‘I would seize him by the hand and say, +“Guard her; if you are my friend, guard her from all +harm!”’</p> +<p>‘A good speech. And I will, too,’ said +Loveday heartily.</p> +<p>‘And now for shelter,’ said Festus to his +companions.</p> +<p>They then unceremoniously left Loveday, without wishing him +good-night, and proceeded towards the barn. He crossed the +park and ascended the down to the camp, grieved that he had given +Anne cause of complaint, and fancying that she held him of slight +account beside his wealthier rival.</p> +<h2>X. THE MATCH-MAKING VIRTUES OF A DOUBLE GARDEN</h2> +<p>Anne was so flurried by the military incidents attending her +return home that she was almost afraid to venture alone outside +her mother’s premises. Moreover, the numerous +soldiers, regular and otherwise, that haunted Overcombe and its +neighbourhood, were getting better acquainted with the villagers, +and the result was that they were always standing at garden +gates, walking in the orchards, or sitting gossiping just within +cottage doors, with the bowls of their tobacco-pipes thrust +outside for politeness’ sake, that they might not defile +the air of the household. Being gentlemen of a gallant and +most affectionate nature, they naturally turned their heads and +smiled if a pretty girl passed by, which was rather disconcerting +to the latter if she were unused to society. Every belle in +the village soon had a lover, and when the belles were all +allotted those who scarcely deserved that title had their turn, +many of the soldiers being not at all particular about +half-an-inch of nose more or less, a trifling deficiency of +teeth, or a larger crop of freckles than is customary in the +Saxon race. Thus, with one and another, courtship began to +be practised in Overcombe on rather a large scale, and the +dispossessed young men who had been born in the place were left +to take their walks alone, where, instead of studying the works +of nature, they meditated gross outrages on the brave men who had +been so good as to visit their village.</p> +<p>Anne watched these romantic proceedings from her window with +much interest, and when she saw how triumphantly other handsome +girls of the neighbourhood walked by on the gorgeous arms of +Lieutenant Knockheelmann, Cornet Flitzenhart, and Captain +Klaspenkissen, of the thrilling York Hussars, who swore the most +picturesque foreign oaths, and had a wonderful sort of estate or +property called the Vaterland in their country across the sea, +she was filled with a sense of her own loneliness. It made +her think of things which she tried to forget, and to look into a +little drawer at something soft and brown that lay in a curl +there, wrapped in paper. At last she could bear it no +longer, and went downstairs.</p> +<p>‘Where are you going?’ said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘To see the folks, because I am so gloomy!’</p> +<p>‘Certainly not at present, Anne.’</p> +<p>‘Why not, mother?’ said Anne, blushing with an +indefinite sense of being very wicked.</p> +<p>‘Because you must not. I have been going to tell +you several times not to go into the street at this time of +day. Why not walk in the morning? There’s young +Mr. Derriman would be glad to—’</p> +<p>‘Don’t mention him, mother, +don’t!’</p> +<p>‘Well then, dear, walk in the garden.’</p> +<p>So poor Anne, who really had not the slightest wish to throw +her heart away upon a soldier, but merely wanted to displace old +thoughts by new, turned into the inner garden from day to day, +and passed a good many hours there, the pleasant birds singing to +her, and the delightful butterflies alighting on her hat, and the +horrid ants running up her stockings.</p> +<p>This garden was undivided from Loveday’s, the two having +originally been the single garden of the whole house. It +was a quaint old place, enclosed by a thorn hedge so shapely and +dense from incessant clipping that the mill-boy could walk along +the top without sinking in—a feat which he often performed +as a means of filling out his day’s work. The soil +within was of that intense fat blackness which is only seen after +a century of constant cultivation. The paths were grassed +over, so that people came and went upon them without being +heard. The grass harboured slugs, and on this account the +miller was going to replace it by gravel as soon as he had time; +but as he had said this for thirty years without doing it, the +grass and the slugs seemed likely to remain.</p> +<p>The miller’s man attended to Mrs. Garland’s piece +of the garden as well as to the larger portion, digging, +planting, and weeding indifferently in both, the miller observing +with reason that it was not worth while for a helpless widow lady +to hire a man for her little plot when his man, working +alongside, could tend it without much addition to his +labour. The two households were on this account even more +closely united in the garden than within the mill. Out +there they were almost one family, and they talked from plot to +plot with a zest and animation which Mrs. Garland could never +have anticipated when she first removed thither after her +husband’s death.</p> +<p>The lower half of the garden, farthest from the road, was the +most snug and sheltered part of this snug and sheltered +enclosure, and it was well watered as the land of Lot. +Three small brooks, about a yard wide, ran with a tinkling sound +from side to side between the plots, crossing the path under wood +slabs laid as bridges, and passing out of the garden through +little tunnels in the hedge. The brooks were so far +overhung at their brinks by grass and garden produce that, had it +not been for their perpetual babbling, few would have noticed +that they were there. This was where Anne liked best to +linger when her excursions became restricted to her own premises; +and in a spot of the garden not far removed the trumpet-major +loved to linger also.</p> +<p>Having by virtue of his office no stable duty to perform, he +came down from the camp to the mill almost every day; and Anne, +finding that he adroitly walked and sat in his father’s +portion of the garden whenever she did so in the other half, +could not help smiling and speaking to him. So his +epaulettes and blue jacket, and Anne’s yellow gipsy hat, +were often seen in different parts of the garden at the same +time; but he never intruded into her part of the enclosure, nor +did she into Loveday’s. She always spoke to him when +she saw him there, and he replied in deep, firm accents across +the gooseberry bushes, or through the tall rows of flowering +peas, as the case might be. He thus gave her accounts at +fifteen paces of his experiences in camp, in quarters, in +Flanders, and elsewhere; of the difference between line and +column, of forced marches, billeting, and such-like, together +with his hopes of promotion. Anne listened at first +indifferently; but knowing no one else so good-natured and +experienced, she grew interested in him as in a brother. By +degrees his gold lace, buckles, and spurs lost all their +strangeness and were as familiar to her as her own clothes.</p> +<p>At last Mrs. Garland noticed this growing friendship, and +began to despair of her motherly scheme of uniting Anne to the +moneyed Festus. Why she could not take prompt steps to +check interference with her plans arose partly from her nature, +which was the reverse of managing, and partly from a new +emotional circumstance with which she found it difficult to +reckon. The near neighbourhood that had produced the +friendship of Anne for John Loveday was slowly effecting a warmer +liking between her mother and his father.</p> +<p>Thus the month of July passed. The troop horses came +with the regularity of clockwork twice a day down to drink under +her window, and, as the weather grew hotter, kicked up their +heels and shook their heads furiously under the maddening sting +of the dun-fly. The green leaves in the garden became of a +darker dye, the gooseberries ripened, and the three brooks were +reduced to half their winter volume.</p> +<p>At length the earnest trumpet-major obtained Mrs. +Garland’s consent to take her and her daughter to the camp, +which they had not yet viewed from any closer point than their +own windows. So one afternoon they went, the miller being +one of the party. The villagers were by this time driving a +roaring trade with the soldiers, who purchased of them every +description of garden produce, milk, butter, and eggs at liberal +prices. The figures of these rural sutlers could be seen +creeping up the slopes, laden like bees, to a spot in the rear of +the camp, where there was a kind of market-place on the +greensward.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland, Anne, and the miller were conducted from one +place to another, and on to the quarter where the soldiers’ +wives lived who had not been able to get lodgings in the cottages +near. The most sheltered place had been chosen for them, +and snug huts had been built for their use by their husbands, of +clods, hurdles, a little thatch, or whatever they could lay hands +on. The trumpet-major conducted his friends thence to the +large barn which had been appropriated as a hospital, and to the +cottage with its windows bricked up, that was used as the +magazine; then they inspected the lines of shining dark horses +(each representing the then high figure of two-and-twenty guineas +purchase money), standing patiently at the ropes which stretched +from one picket-post to another, a bank being thrown up in front +of them as a protection at night.</p> +<p>They passed on to the tents of the German Legion, a well-grown +and rather dandy set of men, with a poetical look about their +faces which rendered them interesting to feminine eyes. +Hanoverians, Saxons, Prussians, Swedes, Hungarians, and other +foreigners were numbered in their ranks. They were cleaning +arms, which they leant carefully against a rail when the work was +complete.</p> +<p>On their return they passed the mess-house, a temporary wooden +building with a brick chimney. As Anne and her companions +went by, a group of three or four of the hussars were standing at +the door talking to a dashing young man, who was expatiating on +the qualities of a horse that one was inclined to buy. Anne +recognized Festus Derriman in the seller, and Cripplestraw was +trotting the animal up and down. As soon as she caught the +yeoman’s eye he came forward, making some friendly remark +to the miller, and then turning to Miss Garland, who kept her +eyes steadily fixed on the distant landscape till he got so near +that it was impossible to do so longer. Festus looked from +Anne to the trumpet-major, and from the trumpet-major back to +Anne, with a dark expression of face, as if he suspected that +there might be a tender understanding between them.</p> +<p>‘Are you offended with me?’ he said to her in a +low voice of repressed resentment.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘When are you coming to the hall again?’</p> +<p>‘Never, perhaps.’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense, Anne,’ said Mrs. Garland, who had come +near, and smiled pleasantly on Festus. ‘You can go at +any time, as usual.’</p> +<p>‘Let her come with me now, Mrs. Garland; I should be +pleased to walk along with her. My man can lead home the +horse.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, but I shall not come,’ said Miss Anne +coldly.</p> +<p>The widow looked unhappily in her daughter’s face, +distressed between her desire that Anne should encourage Festus, +and her wish to consult Anne’s own feelings.</p> +<p>‘Leave her alone, leave her alone,’ said Festus, +his gaze blackening. ‘Now I think of it I am glad she +can’t come with me, for I am engaged;’ and he stalked +away.</p> +<p>Anne moved on with her mother, young Loveday silently +following, and they began to descend the hill.</p> +<p>‘Well, where’s Mr. Loveday?’ asked Mrs. +Garland.</p> +<p>‘Father’s behind,’ said John.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland looked behind her solicitously; and the miller, +who had been waiting for the event, beckoned to her.</p> +<p>‘I’ll overtake you in a minute,’ she said to +the younger pair, and went back, her colour, for some +unaccountable reason, rising as she did so. The miller and +she then came on slowly together, conversing in very low tones, +and when they got to the bottom they stood still. Loveday +and Anne waited for them, saying but little to each other, for +the rencounter with Festus had damped the spirits of both. +At last the widow’s private talk with Miller Loveday came +to an end, and she hastened onward, the miller going in another +direction to meet a man on business. When she reached the +trumpet-major and Anne she was looking very bright and rather +flurried, and seemed sorry when Loveday said that he must leave +them and return to the camp. They parted in their usual +friendly manner, and Anne and her mother were left to walk the +few remaining yards alone.</p> +<p>‘There, I’ve settled it,’ said Mrs. +Garland. ‘Anne, what are you thinking about? I +have settled in my mind that it is all right.’</p> +<p>‘What’s all right?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘That you do not care for Derriman, and mean to +encourage John Loveday. What’s all the world so long +as folks are happy! Child, don’t take any notice of +what I have said about Festus, and don’t meet him any +more.’</p> +<p>‘What a weathercock you are, mother! Why should +you say that just now?’</p> +<p>‘It is easy to call me a weathercock,’ said the +matron, putting on the look of a good woman; ‘but I have +reasoned it out, and at last, thank God, I have got over my +ambition. The Lovedays are our true and only friends, and +Mr. Festus Derriman, with all his money, is nothing to us at +all.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ said Anne, ‘what has made you change +all of a sudden from what you have said before?’</p> +<p>‘My feelings and my reason, which I am thankful +for!’</p> +<p>Anne knew that her mother’s sentiments were naturally so +versatile that they could not be depended on for two days +together; but it did not occur to her for the moment that a +change had been helped on in the present case by a romantic talk +between Mrs. Garland and the miller. But Mrs. Garland could +not keep the secret long. She chatted gaily as she walked, +and before they had entered the house she said, ‘What do +you think Mr Loveday has been saying to me, dear Anne?’</p> +<p>Anne did not know at all.</p> +<p>‘Why, he has asked me to marry him.’</p> +<h2>XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF +ROYALTY</h2> +<p>To explain the miller’s sudden proposal it is only +necessary to go back to that moment when Anne, Festus, and Mrs. +Garland were talking together on the down. John Loveday had +fallen behind so as not to interfere with a meeting in which he +was decidedly superfluous; and his father, who guessed the +trumpet-major’s secret, watched his face as he stood. +John’s face was sad, and his eyes followed Mrs. +Garland’s encouraging manner to Festus in a way which +plainly said that every parting of her lips was tribulation to +him. The miller loved his son as much as any miller or +private gentleman could do, and he was pained to see John’s +gloom at such a trivial circumstance. So what did he +resolve but to help John there and then by precipitating a matter +which, had he himself been the only person concerned, he would +have delayed for another six months.</p> +<p>He had long liked the society of his impulsive, tractable +neighbour, Mrs. Garland; had mentally taken her up and pondered +her in connexion with the question whether it would not be for +the happiness of both if she were to share his home, even though +she was a little his superior in antecedents and knowledge. +In fact he loved her; not tragically, but to a very creditable +extent for his years; that is, next to his sons, Bob and John, +though he knew very well of that ploughed-ground appearance near +the corners of her once handsome eyes, and that the little +depression in her right cheek was not the lingering dimple it was +poetically assumed to be, but a result of the abstraction of some +worn-out nether millstones within the cheek by Rootle, the +Budmouth man, who lived by such practices on the heads of the +elderly. But what of that, when he had lost two to each one +of hers, and exceeded her in age by some eight years! To do +John a service, then, he quickened his designs, and put the +question to her while they were standing under the eyes of the +younger pair.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland, though she had been interested in the miller for +a long time, and had for a moment now and then thought on this +question as far as, ‘Suppose he should, ‘If he were +to,’ and so on, had never thought much further; and she was +really taken by surprise when the question came. She +answered without affectation that she would think over the +proposal; and thus they parted.</p> +<p>Her mother’s infirmity of purpose set Anne thinking, and +she was suddenly filled with a conviction that in such a case she +ought to have some purpose herself. Mrs. Garland’s +complacency at the miller’s offer had, in truth, amazed +her. While her mother had held up her head, and recommended +Festus, it had seemed a very pretty thing to rebel; but the +pressure being removed an awful sense of her own responsibility +took possession of her mind. As there was no longer anybody +to be wise or ambitious for her, surely she should be wise and +ambitious for herself, discountenance her mother’s +attachment, and encourage Festus in his addresses, for her own +and her mother’s good. There had been a time when a +Loveday thrilled her own heart; but that was long ago, before she +had thought of position or differences. To wake into cold +daylight like this, when and because her mother had gone into the +land of romance, was dreadful and new to her, and like an +increase of years without living them.</p> +<p>But it was easier to think that she ought to marry the yeoman +than to take steps for doing it; and she went on living just as +before, only with a little more thoughtfulness in her eyes.</p> +<p>Two days after the visit to the camp, when she was again in +the garden, Soldier Loveday said to her, at a distance of five +rows of beans and a parsley-bed—</p> +<p>‘You have heard the news, Miss Garland?’</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Anne, without looking up from a book +she was reading.</p> +<p>‘The King is coming to-morrow.’</p> +<p>‘The King?’ She looked up then.</p> +<p>‘Yes; to Gloucester Lodge; and he will pass this +way. He can’t arrive till long past the middle of the +night, if what they say is true, that he is timed to change +horses at Woodyates Inn—between Mid and South +Wessex—at twelve o’clock,’ continued Loveday, +encouraged by her interest to cut off the parsley-bed from the +distance between them.</p> +<p>Miller Loveday came round the corner of the house.</p> +<p>‘Have ye heard about the King coming, Miss Maidy +Anne?’ he said.</p> +<p>Anne said that she had just heard of it; and the +trumpet-major, who hardly welcomed his father at such a moment, +explained what he knew of the matter.</p> +<p>‘And you will go with your regiment to meet ‘en, I +suppose?’ said old Loveday.</p> +<p>Young Loveday said that the men of the German Legion were to +perform that duty. And turning half from his father, and +half towards Anne, he added, in a tentative tone, that he thought +he might get leave for the night, if anybody would like to be +taken to the top of the Ridgeway over which the royal party must +pass.</p> +<p>Anne, knowing by this time of the budding hope in the gallant +dragoon’s mind, and not wishing to encourage it, said, +‘I don’t want to go.’</p> +<p>The miller looked disappointed as well as John.</p> +<p>‘Your mother might like to?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I am going indoors, and I’ll ask her if you +wish me to,’ said she.</p> +<p>She went indoors and rather coldly told her mother of the +proposal. Mrs. Garland, though she had determined not to +answer the miller’s question on matrimony just yet, was +quite ready for this jaunt, and in spite of Anne she sailed off +at once to the garden to hear more about it. When she +re-entered, she said—</p> +<p>‘Anne, I have not seen the King or the King’s +horses for these many years; and I am going.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, it is well to be you, mother,’ said Anne, in +an elderly tone.</p> +<p>‘Then you won’t come with us?’ said Mrs. +Garland, rather rebuffed.</p> +<p>‘I have very different things to think of,’ said +her daughter with virtuous emphasis, ‘than going to see +sights at that time of night.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland was sorry, but resolved to adhere to the +arrangement. The night came on; and it having gone abroad +that the King would pass by the road, many of the villagers went +out to see the procession. When the two Lovedays and Mrs. +Garland were gone, Anne bolted the door for security, and sat +down to think again on her grave responsibilities in the choice +of a husband, now that her natural guardian could no longer be +trusted.</p> +<p>A knock came to the door.</p> +<p>Anne’s instinct was at once to be silent, that the comer +might think the family had retired.</p> +<p>The knocking person, however, was not to be easily +persuaded. He had in fact seen rays of light over the top +of the shutter, and, unable to get an answer, went on to the door +of the mill, which was still going, the miller sometimes grinding +all night when busy. The grinder accompanied the stranger +to Mrs. Garland’s door.</p> +<p>‘The daughter is certainly at home, sir,’ said the +grinder. ‘I’ll go round to t’other side, +and see if she’s there, Master Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘I want to take her out to see the King,’ said +Festus.</p> +<p>Anne had started at the sound of the voice. No +opportunity could have been better for carrying out her new +convictions on the disposal of her hand. But in her mortal +dislike of Festus, Anne forgot her principles, and her idea of +keeping herself above the Lovedays. Tossing on her hat and +blowing out the candle, she slipped out at the back door, and +hastily followed in the direction that her mother and the rest +had taken. She overtook them as they were beginning to +climb the hill.</p> +<p>‘What! you have altered your mind after all?’ said +the widow. ‘How came you to do that, my +dear?’</p> +<p>‘I thought I might as well come,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘To be sure you did,’ said the miller +heartily. ‘A good deal better than biding at home +there.’</p> +<p>John said nothing, though she could almost see through the +gloom how glad he was that she had altered her mind. When +they reached the ridge over which the highway stretched they +found many of their neighbours who had got there before them +idling on the grass border between the roadway and the hedge, +enjoying a sort of midnight picnic, which it was easy to do, the +air being still and dry. Some carriages were also standing +near, though most people of the district who possessed four +wheels, or even two, had driven into the town to await the King +there. From this height could be seen in the distance the +position of the watering-place, an additional number of lanterns, +lamps, and candles having been lighted to-night by the loyal +burghers to grace the royal entry, if it should occur before +dawn.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland touched Anne’s elbow several times as they +walked, and the young woman at last understood that this was +meant as a hint to her to take the trumpet-major’s arm, +which its owner was rather suggesting than offering to her. +Anne wondered what infatuation was possessing her mother, +declined to take the arm, and contrived to get in front with the +miller, who mostly kept in the van to guide the others’ +footsteps. The trumpet-major was left with Mrs. Garland, +and Anne’s encouraging pursuit of them induced him to say a +few words to the former.</p> +<p>‘By your leave, ma’am, I’ll speak to you on +something that concerns my mind very much indeed?’</p> +<p>‘Certainly.’</p> +<p>‘It is my wish to be allowed to pay my addresses to your +daughter.’</p> +<p>‘I thought you meant that,’ said Mrs. Garland +simply.</p> +<p>‘And you’ll not object?’</p> +<p>‘I shall leave it to her. I don’t think she +will agree, even if I do.’</p> +<p>The soldier sighed, and seemed helpless. ‘Well, I +can but ask her,’ he said.</p> +<p>The spot on which they had finally chosen to wait for the King +was by a field gate, whence the white road could be seen for a +long distance northwards by day, and some little distance +now. They lingered and lingered, but no King came to break +the silence of that beautiful summer night. As half-hour +after half-hour glided by, and nobody came, Anne began to get +weary; she knew why her mother did not propose to go back, and +regretted the reason. She would have proposed it herself, +but that Mrs. Garland seemed so cheerful, and as wide awake as at +noonday, so that it was almost a cruelty to disturb her.</p> +<p>The trumpet-major at last made up his mind, and tried to draw +Anne into a private conversation. The feeling which a week +ago had been a vague and piquant aspiration, was to-day +altogether too lively for the reasoning of this warm-hearted +soldier to regulate. So he persevered in his intention to +catch her alone, and at last, in spite of her manoeuvres to the +contrary, he succeeded. The miller and Mrs. Garland had +walked about fifty yards further on, and Anne and himself were +left standing by the gate.</p> +<p>But the gallant musician’s soul was so much disturbed by +tender vibrations and by the sense of his presumption that he +could not begin; and it may be questioned if he would ever have +broached the subject at all, had not a distant church clock +opportunely assisted him by striking the hour of three. The +trumpet-major heaved a breath of relief.</p> +<p>‘That clock strikes in G sharp,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘Indeed—G sharp?’ said Anne civilly.</p> +<p>‘Yes. ’Tis a fine-toned bell. I used +to notice that note when I was a boy.’</p> +<p>‘Did you—the very same?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; and since then I had a wager about that bell with +the bandmaster of the North Wessex Militia. He said the +note was G; I said it wasn’t. When we found it G +sharp we didn’t know how to settle it.’</p> +<p>‘It is not a deep note for a clock.’</p> +<p>‘O no! The finest tenor bell about here is the +bell of Peter’s, Casterbridge—in E flat. +Tum-m-m-m—that’s the +note—tum-m-m-m.’ The trumpet-major sounded from +far down his throat what he considered to be E flat, with a +parenthetic sense of luxury unquenchable even by his present +distraction.</p> +<p>‘Shall we go on to where my mother is?’ said Anne, +less impressed by the beauty of the note than the trumpet-major +himself was.</p> +<p>‘In one minute,’ he said tremulously. +‘Talking of music—I fear you don’t think the +rank of a trumpet-major much to compare with your own?’</p> +<p>‘I do. I think a trumpet-major a very respectable +man.’</p> +<p>‘I am glad to hear you say that. It is given out +by the King’s command that trumpet-majors are to be +considered respectable.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed! Then I am, by chance, more loyal than I +thought for.’</p> +<p>‘I get a good deal a year extra to the trumpeters, +because of my position.’</p> +<p>‘That’s very nice.’</p> +<p>‘And I am not supposed ever to drink with the trumpeters +who serve beneath me.’</p> +<p>‘Naturally.’</p> +<p>‘And, by the orders of the War Office, I am to exert +over them (that’s the government word) exert over them full +authority; and if any one behaves towards me with the least +impropriety, or neglects my orders, he is to be confined and +reported.’</p> +<p>‘It is really a dignified post,’ she said, with, +however, a reserve of enthusiasm which was not altogether +encouraging.</p> +<p>‘And of course some day I shall,’ stammered the +dragoon—‘shall be in rather a better position than I +am at present.’</p> +<p>‘I am glad to hear it, Mr. Loveday.’</p> +<p>‘And in short, Mistress Anne,’ continued John +Loveday bravely and desperately, ‘may I pay court to you in +the hope that—no, no, don’t go away!—you +haven’t heard yet—that you may make me the happiest +of men; not yet, but when peace is proclaimed and all is smooth +and easy again? I can’t put it any better, though +there’s more to be explained.’</p> +<p>‘This is most awkward,’ said Anne, evidently with +pain. ‘I cannot possibly agree; believe me, Mr. +Loveday, I cannot.’</p> +<p>‘But there’s more than this. You would be +surprised to see what snug rooms the married trumpet- and +sergeant-majors have in quarters.’</p> +<p>‘Barracks are not all; consider camp and war.’</p> +<p>‘That brings me to my strong point!’ exclaimed the +soldier hopefully. ‘My father is better off than most +non-commissioned officers’ fathers; and there’s +always a home for you at his house in any emergency. I can +tell you privately that he has enough to keep us both, and if you +wouldn’t hear of barracks, well, peace once established, +I’d live at home as a miller and farmer—next door to +your own mother.’</p> +<p>‘My mother would be sure to object,’ expostulated +Anne.</p> +<p>‘No; she leaves it all to you.’</p> +<p>‘What! you have asked her?’ said Anne, with +surprise.</p> +<p>‘Yes. I thought it would not be honourable to act +otherwise.’</p> +<p>‘That’s very good of you,’ said Anne, her +face warming with a generous sense of his +straightforwardness. ‘But my mother is so entirely +ignorant of a soldier’s life, and the life of a +soldier’s wife—she is so simple in all such matters, +that I cannot listen to you any more readily for what she may +say.’</p> +<p>‘Then it is all over for me,’ said the poor +trumpet-major, wiping his face and putting away his handkerchief +with an air of finality.</p> +<p>Anne was silent. Any woman who has ever tried will know +without explanation what an unpalatable task it is to dismiss, +even when she does not love him, a man who has all the natural +and moral qualities she would desire, and only fails in the +social. Would-be lovers are not so numerous, even with the +best women, that the sacrifice of one can be felt as other than a +good thing wasted, in a world where there are few good +things.</p> +<p>‘You are not angry, Miss Garland?’ said he, +finding that she did not speak.</p> +<p>‘O no. Don’t let us say anything more about +this now.’ And she moved on.</p> +<p>When she drew near to the miller and her mother she perceived +that they were engaged in a conversation of that peculiar kind +which is all the more full and communicative from the fact of +definitive words being few. In short, here the game was +succeeding which with herself had failed. It was pretty +clear from the symptoms, marks, tokens, telegraphs, and general +byplay between widower and widow, that Miller Loveday must have +again said to Mrs. Garland some such thing as he had said before, +with what result this time she did not know.</p> +<p>As the situation was delicate, Anne halted awhile apart from +them. The trumpet-major, quite ignorant of how his cause +was entered into by the white-coated man in the distance (for his +father had not yet told him of his designs upon Mrs. Garland), +did not advance, but stood still by the gate, as though he were +attending a princess, waiting till he should be called up. +Thus they lingered, and the day began to break. Mrs. +Garland and the miller took no heed of the time, and what it was +bringing to earth and sky, so occupied were they with themselves; +but Anne in her place and the trumpet-major in his, each in +private thought of no bright kind, watched the gradual glory of +the east through all its tones and changes. The world of +birds and insects got lively, the blue and the yellow and the +gold of Loveday’s uniform again became distinct; the sun +bored its way upward, the fields, the trees, and the distant +landscape kindled to flame, and the trumpet-major, backed by a +lilac shadow as tall as a steeple, blazed in the rays like a very +god of war.</p> +<p>It was half-past three o’clock. A short time +after, a rattle of horses and wheels reached their ears from the +quarter in which they gazed, and there appeared upon the white +line of road a moving mass, which presently ascended the hill and +drew near.</p> +<p>Then there arose a huzza from the few knots of watchers +gathered there, and they cried, ‘Long live King +Jarge!’ The cortege passed abreast. It +consisted of three travelling-carriages, escorted by a detachment +of the German Legion. Anne was told to look in the first +carriage—a post-chariot drawn by four horses—for the +King and Queen, and was rewarded by seeing a profile reminding +her of the current coin of the realm; but as the party had been +travelling all night, and the spectators here gathered were few, +none of the royal family looked out of the carriage +windows. It was said that the two elder princesses were in +the same carriage, but they remained invisible. The next +vehicle, a coach and four, contained more princesses, and the +third some of their attendants.</p> +<p>‘Thank God, I have seen my King!’ said Mrs. +Garland, when they had all gone by.</p> +<p>Nobody else expressed any thankfulness, for most of them had +expected a more pompous procession than the bucolic tastes of the +King cared to indulge in; and one old man said grimly that that +sight of dusty old leather coaches was not worth waiting +for. Anne looked hither and thither in the bright rays of +the day, each of her eyes having a little sun in it, which gave +her glance a peculiar golden fire, and kindled the brown curls +grouped over her forehead to a yellow brilliancy, and made single +hairs, blown astray by the night, look like lacquered +wires. She was wondering if Festus were anywhere near, but +she could not see him.</p> +<p>Before they left the ridge they turned their attention towards +the Royal watering-place, which was visible at this place only as +a portion of the sea-shore, from which the night-mist was rolling +slowly back. The sea beyond was still wrapped in summer +fog, the ships in the roads showing through it as black spiders +suspended in the air. While they looked and walked a white +jet of smoke burst from a spot which the miller knew to be the +battery in front of the King’s residence, and then the +report of guns reached their ears. This announcement was +answered by a salute from the Castle of the adjoining Isle, and +the ships in the neighbouring anchorage. All the bells in +the town began ringing. The King and his family had +arrived.</p> +<h2>XII. HOW EVERYBODY GREAT AND SMALL CLIMBED TO THE TOP +OF THE DOWNS</h2> +<p>As the days went on, echoes of the life and bustle of the town +reached the ears of the quiet people in Overcombe +hollow—exciting and moving those unimportant natives as a +ground-swell moves the weeds in a cave. +Travelling-carriages of all kinds and colours climbed and +descended the road that led towards the seaside borough. +Some contained those personages of the King’s suite who had +not kept pace with him in his journey from Windsor; others were +the coaches of aristocracy, big and little, whom news of the +King’s arrival drew thither for their own pleasure: so that +the highway, as seen from the hills about Overcombe, appeared +like an ant-walk—a constant succession of dark spots +creeping along its surface at nearly uniform rates of progress, +and all in one direction.</p> +<p>The traffic and intelligence between camp and town passed in a +measure over the villagers’ heads. It being summer +time the miller was much occupied with business, and the +trumpet-major was too constantly engaged in marching between the +camp and Gloucester Lodge with the rest of the dragoons to bring +his friends any news for some days.</p> +<p>At last he sent a message that there was to be a review on the +downs by the King, and that it was fixed for the day +following. This information soon spread through the village +and country round, and next morning the whole population of +Overcombe—except two or three very old men and women, a few +babies and their nurses, a cripple, and Corporal +Tullidge—ascended the slope with the crowds from afar, and +awaited the events of the day.</p> +<p>The miller wore his best coat on this occasion, which meant a +good deal. An Overcombe man in those days would have a best +coat, and keep it as a best coat half his life. The +miller’s had seen five and twenty summers chiefly through +the chinks of a clothes-box, and was not at all shabby as yet, +though getting singular. But that could not be helped; +common coats and best coats were distinct species, and never +interchangeable. Living so near the scene of the review he +walked up the hill, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and Anne as +usual.</p> +<p>It was a clear day, with little wind stirring, and the view +from the downs, one of the most extensive in the county, was +unclouded. The eye of any observer who cared for such +things swept over the wave-washed town, and the bay beyond, and +the Isle, with its pebble bank, lying on the sea to the left of +these, like a great crouching animal tethered to the +mainland. On the extreme east of the marine horizon, St. +Aldhelm’s Head closed the scene, the sea to the southward +of that point glaring like a mirror under the sun. Inland +could be seen Badbury Rings, where a beacon had been recently +erected; and nearer, Rainbarrow, on Egdon Heath, where another +stood: farther to the left Bulbarrow, where there was yet +another. Not far from this came Nettlecombe Tout; to the +west, Dogberry Hill, and Black’on near to the foreground, +the beacon thereon being built of furze faggots thatched with +straw, and standing on the spot where the monument now raises its +head.</p> +<p>At nine o’clock the troops marched upon the +ground—some from the camps in the vicinity, and some from +quarters in the different towns round about. The approaches +to the down were blocked with carriages of all descriptions, +ages, and colours, and with pedestrians of every class. At +ten the royal personages were said to be drawing near, and soon +after the King, accompanied by the Dukes of Cambridge and +Cumberland, and a couple of generals, appeared on horseback, +wearing a round hat turned up at the side, with a cockade and +military feather. (Sensation among the crowd.) Then +the Queen and three of the princesses entered the field in a +great coach drawn by six beautiful cream-coloured horses. +Another coach, with four horses of the same sort, brought the two +remaining princesses. (Confused acclamations, +‘There’s King Jarge!’ ‘That’s Queen +Sharlett!’ ‘Princess ’Lizabeth!’ +‘Princesses Sophiar and Meelyer!’ etc., from the +surrounding spectators.)</p> +<p>Anne and her party were fortunate enough to secure a position +on the top of one of the barrows which rose here and there on the +down; and the miller having gallantly constructed a little cairn +of flints, he placed the two women thereon, by which means they +were enabled to see over the heads, horses, and coaches of the +multitudes below and around. At the march-past the +miller’s eye, which had been wandering about for the +purpose, discovered his son in his place by the trumpeters, who +had moved forwards in two ranks, and were sounding the march.</p> +<p>‘That’s John!’ he cried to the widow. +‘His trumpet-sling is of two colours, d’ye see; and +the others be plain.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland too saw him now, and enthusiastically admired him +from her hands upwards, and Anne silently did the same. But +before the young woman’s eyes had quite left the +trumpet-major they fell upon the figure of Yeoman Festus riding +with his troop, and keeping his face at a medium between +haughtiness and mere bravery. He certainly looked as +soldierly as any of his own corps, and felt more soldierly than +half-a-dozen, as anybody could see by observing him. Anne +got behind the miller, in case Festus should discover her, and, +regardless of his monarch, rush upon her in a rage with, +‘Why the devil did you run away from me that +night—hey, madam?’ But she resolved to think no +more of him just now, and to stick to Loveday, who was her +mother’s friend. In this she was helped by the +stirring tones which burst from the latter gentleman and his +subordinates from time to time.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said the miller complacently, +‘there’s few of more consequence in a regiment than a +trumpeter. He’s the chap that tells ’em what to +do, after all. Hey, Mrs. Garland?’</p> +<p>‘So he is, miller,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘They could no more do without Jack and his men than +they could without generals.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed they could not,’ said Mrs. Garland again, +in a tone of pleasant agreement with any one in Great Britain or +Ireland.</p> +<p>It was said that the line that day was three miles long, +reaching from the high ground on the right of where the people +stood to the turnpike road on the left. After the review +came a sham fight, during which action the crowd dispersed more +widely over the downs, enabling Widow Garland to get still +clearer glimpses of the King, and his handsome charger, and the +head of the Queen, and the elbows and shoulders of the princesses +in the carriages, and fractional parts of General Garth and the +Duke of Cumberland; which sights gave her great +gratification. She tugged at her daughter at every +opportunity, exclaiming, ‘Now you can see his +feather!’ ‘There’s her hat!’ +‘There’s her Majesty’s India muslin +shawl!’ in a minor form of ecstasy, that made the miller +think her more girlish and animated than her daughter Anne.</p> +<p>In those military manoeuvres the miller followed the fortunes +of one man; Anne Garland of two. The spectators, who, +unlike our party, had no personal interest in the soldiery, saw +only troops and battalions in the concrete, straight lines of +red, straight lines of blue, white lines formed of innumerable +knee-breeches, black lines formed of many gaiters, coming and +going in kaleidoscopic change. Who thought of every point +in the line as an isolated man, each dwelling all to himself in +the hermitage of his own mind? One person did, a young man +far removed from the barrow where the Garlands and Miller Loveday +stood. The natural expression of his face was somewhat +obscured by the bronzing effects of rough weather, but the lines +of his mouth showed that affectionate impulses were strong within +him—perhaps stronger than judgment well could +regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, +and was plainly a seafaring man.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on +which the miller had established himself, a broad-brimmed +tradesman was elbowing his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday +from the base of the barrow, and beckoned to attract his +attention. Loveday went halfway down, and the other came up +as near as he could.</p> +<p>‘Miller,’ said the man, ‘a letter has been +lying at the post-office for you for the last three days. +If I had known that I should see ye here I’d have brought +it along with me.’</p> +<p>The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday +returning to the summit. ‘What a very strange +thing!’ he said to Mrs. Garland, who had looked inquiringly +at his face, now very grave. ‘That was Budmouth +postmaster, and he says there’s a letter for me. Ah, +I now call to mind that there <i>was</i> a letter in the candle +three days ago this very night—a large red one; but +foolish-like I thought nothing o’t. Who <i>can</i> +that letter be from?’</p> +<p>A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even +of the miller’s respectable standing, that Loveday +thenceforward was thrown into a fit of abstraction which +prevented his seeing any more of the sham fight, or the people, +or the King. Mrs. Garland imbibed some of his concern, and +suggested that the letter might come from his son Robert.</p> +<p>‘I should naturally have thought that,’ said +Miller Loveday; ‘but he wrote to me only two months ago, +and his brother John heard from him within the last four weeks, +when he was just about starting on another voyage. If +you’ll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma’am, I’ll see +if there’s any Overcombe man here who is going to Budmouth +to-day, so that I may get the letter by night-time. I +cannot possibly go myself.’</p> +<p>So Mr. Loveday left them for awhile; and as they were so near +home Mrs. Garland did not wait on the barrow for him to come +back, but walked about with Anne a little time, until they should +be disposed to trot down the slope to their own door. They +listened to a man who was offering one guinea to receive ten in +case Buonaparte should be killed in three months, and to other +entertainments of that nature, which at this time were not +rare. Once during their peregrination the eyes of the +sailor before-mentioned fell upon Anne; but he glanced over her +and passed her unheedingly by. Loveday the elder was at +this time on the other side of the line, looking for a messenger +to the town. At twelve o’clock the review was over, +and the King and his family left the hill. The troops then +cleared off the field, the spectators followed, and by one +o’clock the downs were again bare.</p> +<p>They still spread their grassy surface to the sun as on that +beautiful morning not, historically speaking, so very long ago; +but the King and his fifteen thousand armed men, the horses, the +bands of music, the princesses, the cream-coloured +teams—the gorgeous centre-piece, in short, to which the +downs were but the mere mount or margin—how entirely have +they all passed and gone!—lying scattered about the world +as military and other dust, some at Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, +Vittoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo; some in home churchyards; and a +few small handfuls in royal vaults.</p> +<p>In the afternoon John Loveday, lightened of his trumpet and +trappings, appeared at the old mill-house door, and beheld Anne +standing at hers.</p> +<p>‘I saw you, Miss Garland,’ said the soldier +gaily.</p> +<p>‘Where was I?’ said she, smiling.</p> +<p>‘On the top of the big mound—to the right of the +King.’</p> +<p>‘And I saw you; lots of times,’ she rejoined.</p> +<p>Loveday seemed pleased. ‘Did you really take the +trouble to find me? That was very good of you.’</p> +<p>‘Her eyes followed you everywhere,’ said Mrs. +Garland from an upper window.</p> +<p>‘Of course I looked at the dragoons most,’ said +Anne, disconcerted. ‘And when I looked at them my +eyes naturally fell upon the trumpets. I looked at the +dragoons generally, no more.’</p> +<p>She did not mean to show any vexation to the trumpet-major, +but he fancied otherwise, and stood repressed. The +situation was relieved by the arrival of the miller, still +looking serious.</p> +<p>‘I am very much concerned, John; I did not go to the +review for nothing. There’s a letter a-waiting for me +at Budmouth, and I must get it before bedtime, or I shan’t +sleep a wink.’</p> +<p>‘I’ll go, of course,’ said John; ‘and +perhaps Miss Garland would like to see what’s doing there +to-day? Everybody is gone or going; the road is like a +fair.’</p> +<p>He spoke pleadingly, but Anne was not won to assent.</p> +<p>‘You can drive in the gig; ’twill do Blossom +good,’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘Let David drive Miss Garland,’ said the +trumpet-major, not wishing to coerce her; ‘I would just as +soon walk.’</p> +<p>Anne joyfully welcomed this arrangement, and a time was fixed +for the start.</p> +<h2>XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD</h2> +<p>In the afternoon they drove off, John Loveday being nowhere +visible. All along the road they passed and were overtaken +by vehicles of all descriptions going in the same direction; +among them the extraordinary machines which had been invented for +the conveyance of troops to any point of the coast on which the +enemy should land; they consisted of four boards placed across a +sort of trolly, thirty men of the volunteer companies riding on +each.</p> +<p>The popular Georgian watering-place was in a paroxysm of +gaiety. The town was quite overpowered by the country +round, much to the town’s delight and profit. The +fear of invasion was such that six frigates lay in the roads to +ensure the safety of the royal family, and from the regiments of +horse and foot quartered at the barracks, or encamped on the +hills round about, a picket of a thousand men mounted guard every +day in front of Gloucester Lodge, where the King resided. +When Anne and her attendant reached this point, which they did on +foot, stabling the horse on the outskirts of the town, it was +about six o’clock. The King was on the Esplanade, and +the soldiers were just marching past to mount guard. The +band formed in front of the King, and all the officers saluted as +they went by.</p> +<p>Anne now felt herself close to and looking into the stream of +recorded history, within whose banks the littlest things are +great, and outside which she and the general bulk of the human +race were content to live on as an unreckoned, unheeded +superfluity.</p> +<p>When she turned from her interested gaze at this scene, there +stood John Loveday. She had had a presentiment that he +would turn up in this mysterious way. It was marvellous +that he could have got there so quickly; but there he +was—not looking at the King, or at the crowd, but waiting +for the turn of her head.</p> +<p>‘Trumpet-major, I didn’t see you,’ said Anne +demurely. ‘How is it that your regiment is not +marching past?’</p> +<p>‘We take it by turns, and it is not our turn,’ +said Loveday.</p> +<p>She wanted to know then if they were afraid that the King +would be carried off by the First Consul. Yes, Loveday told +her; and his Majesty was rather venturesome. A day or two +before he had gone so far to sea that he was nearly caught by +some of the enemy’s cruisers. ‘He is anxious to +fight Boney single-handed,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘What a good, brave King!’ said Anne.</p> +<p>Loveday seemed anxious to come to more personal matters. +‘Will you let me take you round to the other side, where +you can see better?’ he asked. ‘The Queen and +the princesses are at the window.’</p> +<p>Anne passively assented. ‘David, wait here for +me,’ she said; ‘I shall be back again in a few +minutes.’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major then led her off triumphantly, and they +skirted the crowd and came round on the side towards the +sands. He told her everything he could think of, military +and civil, to which Anne returned pretty syllables and +parenthetic words about the colour of the sea and the curl of the +foam—a way of speaking that moved the soldier’s heart +even more than long and direct speeches would have done.</p> +<p>‘And that other thing I asked you?’ he ventured to +say at last.</p> +<p>‘We won’t speak of it.’</p> +<p>‘You don’t dislike me?’</p> +<p>‘O no!’ she said, gazing at the bathing-machines, +digging children, and other common objects of the seashore, as if +her interest lay there rather than with him.</p> +<p>‘But I am not worthy of the daughter of a genteel +professional man—that’s what you mean?’</p> +<p>‘There’s something more than worthiness required +in such cases, you know,’ she said, still without calling +her mind away from surrounding scenes. ‘Ah, there are +the Queen and princesses at the window!’</p> +<p>‘Something more?’</p> +<p>‘Well, since you will make me speak, I mean the woman +ought to love the man.’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major seemed to be less concerned about this than +about her supposed superiority. ‘If it were all right +on that point, would you mind the other?’ he asked, like a +man who knows he is too persistent, yet who cannot be still.</p> +<p>‘How can I say, when I don’t know? What a +pretty chip hat the elder princess wears?’</p> +<p>Her companion’s general disappointment extended over him +almost to his lace and his plume. ‘Your mother said, +you know, Miss Anne—’</p> +<p>‘Yes, that’s the worst of it,’ she +said. ‘Let us go back to David; I have seen all I +want to see, Mr. Loveday.’</p> +<p>The mass of the people had by this time noticed the Queen and +princesses at the window, and raised a cheer, to which the ladies +waved their embroidered handkerchiefs. Anne went back +towards the pavement with her trumpet-major, whom all the girls +envied her, so fine-looking a soldier was he; and not only for +that, but because it was well known that he was not a soldier +from necessity, but from patriotism, his father having repeatedly +offered to set him up in business: his artistic taste in +preferring a horse and uniform to a dirty, rumbling flour-mill +was admired by all. She, too, had a very nice appearance in +her best clothes as she walked along—the sarcenet hat, +muslin shawl, and tight-sleeved gown being of the newest +Overcombe fashion, that was only about a year old in the +adjoining town, and in London three or four. She could not +be harsh to Loveday and dismiss him curtly, for his musical +pursuits had refined him, educated him, and made him quite +poetical. To-day he had been particularly well-mannered and +tender; so, instead of answering, ‘Never speak to me like +this again,’ she merely put him off with a ‘Let us go +back to David.’</p> +<p>When they reached the place where they had left him David was +gone.</p> +<p>Anne was now positively vexed. ‘What <i>shall</i> +I do?’ she said.</p> +<p>‘He’s only gone to drink the King’s +health,’ said Loveday, who had privately given David the +money for performing that operation. ‘Depend upon it, +he’ll be back soon.’</p> +<p>‘Will you go and find him?’ said she, with intense +propriety in her looks and tone.</p> +<p>‘I will,’ said Loveday reluctantly; and he +went.</p> +<p>Anne stood still. She could now escape her gallant +friend, for, although the distance was long, it was not +impossible to walk home. On the other hand, Loveday was a +good and sincere fellow, for whom she had almost a brotherly +feeling, and she shrank from such a trick. While she stood +and mused, scarcely heeding the music, the marching of the +soldiers, the King, the dukes, the brilliant staff, the +attendants, and the happy groups of people, her eyes fell upon +the ground.</p> +<p>Before her she saw a flower lying—a crimson +sweet-william—fresh and uninjured. An instinctive +wish to save it from destruction by the passengers’ feet +led her to pick it up; and then, moved by a sudden +self-consciousness, she looked around. She was standing +before an inn, and from an upper window Festus Derriman was +leaning with two or three kindred spirits of his cut and +kind. He nodded eagerly, and signified to her that he had +thrown the flower.</p> +<p>What should she do? To throw it away would seem stupid, +and to keep it was awkward. She held it between her finger +and thumb, twirled it round on its axis and twirled it back +again, regarding and yet not examining it. Just then she +saw the trumpet-major coming back.</p> +<p>‘I can’t find David anywhere,’ he said; and +his heart was not sorry as he said it.</p> +<p>Anne was still holding out the sweet-william as if about to +drop it, and, scarcely knowing what she did under the distressing +sense that she was watched, she offered the flower to +Loveday.</p> +<p>His face brightened with pleasure as he took it. +‘Thank you, indeed,’ he said.</p> +<p>Then Anne saw what a misleading blunder she had committed +towards Loveday in playing to the yeoman. Perhaps she had +sown the seeds of a quarrel.</p> +<p>‘It was not my sweet-william,’ she said hastily; +‘it was lying on the ground. I don’t mean +anything by giving it to you.’</p> +<p>‘But I’ll keep it all the same,’ said the +innocent soldier, as if he knew a good deal about womankind; and +he put the flower carefully inside his jacket, between his white +waistcoat and his heart.</p> +<p>Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in +the face, rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a +turnip-lantern.</p> +<p>‘Let us go away,’ said Anne timorously.</p> +<p>‘I’ll see you safe to your own door, depend upon +me,’ said Loveday. ‘But—I had near +forgot—there’s father’s letter, that he’s +so anxiously waiting for! Will you come with me to the +post-office? Then I’ll take you straight +home.’</p> +<p>Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad +to be off anywhere; so she accepted the suggestion, and they went +along the parade together.</p> +<p>Loveday set this down as a proof of Anne’s +relenting. Thus in joyful spirits he entered the office, +paid the postage, and received the letter.</p> +<p>‘It is from Bob, after all!’ he said. +‘Father told me to read it at once, in case of bad +news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a +moment.’ He broke the seal and read, Anne standing +silently by.</p> +<p>‘He is coming home <i>to be married</i>,’ said the +trumpet-major, without looking up.</p> +<p>Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her +face at his words, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her +rather paler than before. She disguised her agitation and +then overcame it, Loveday observing nothing of this emotional +performance.</p> +<p>‘As far as I can understand he will be here +Saturday,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘Indeed!’ said Anne quite calmly. ‘And +who is he going to marry?’</p> +<p>‘That I don’t know,’ said John, turning the +letter about. ‘The woman is a stranger.’</p> +<p>At this moment the miller entered the office hastily.</p> +<p>‘Come, John,’ he cried, ‘I have been waiting +and waiting for that there letter till I was nigh +crazy!’</p> +<p>John briefly explained the news, and when his father had +recovered from his astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the +exact line where his forehead joined his hair, he walked with +Anne up the street, leaving John to return alone. The +miller was so absorbed in his mental perspective of Bob’s +marriage, that he saw nothing of the gaieties they passed +through; and Anne seemed also so much impressed by the same +intelligence, that she crossed before the inn occupied by Festus +without showing a recollection of his presence there.</p> +<h2>XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY</h2> +<p>When they reached home the sun was going down. It had +already been noised abroad that miller Loveday had received a +letter, and, his cart having been heard coming up the lane, the +population of Overcombe drew down towards the mill as soon as he +had gone indoors—a sudden flash of brightness from the +window showing that he had struck such an early light as nothing +but the immediate deciphering of literature could require. +Letters were matters of public moment, and everybody in the +parish had an interest in the reading of those rare documents; so +that when the miller had placed the candle, slanted himself, and +called in Mrs. Garland to have her opinion on the meaning of any +hieroglyphics that he might encounter in his course, he found +that he was to be additionally assisted by the opinions of the +other neighbours, whose persons appeared in the doorway, partly +covering each other like a hand of cards, yet each showing a +large enough piece of himself for identification. To pass +the time while they were arranging themselves, the miller adopted +his usual way of filling up casual intervals, that of snuffing +the candle.</p> +<p>‘We heard you had got a letter, Maister Loveday,’ +they said.</p> +<p>‘Yes; “Southampton, the twelfth of August, dear +father,”’ said Loveday; and they were as silent as +relations at the reading of a will. Anne, for whom the +letter had a singular fascination, came in with her mother and +sat down.</p> +<p>Bob stated in his own way that having, since landing, taken +into consideration his father’s wish that he should +renounce a seafaring life and become a partner in the mill, he +had decided to agree to the proposal; and with that object in +view he would return to Overcombe in three days from the time of +writing.</p> +<p>He then said incidentally that since his voyage he had been in +lodgings at Southampton, and during that time had become +acquainted with a lovely and virtuous young maiden, in whom he +found the exact qualities necessary to his happiness. +Having known this lady for the full space of a fortnight he had +had ample opportunities of studying her character, and, being +struck with the recollection that, if there was one thing more +than another necessary in a mill which had no mistress, it was +somebody who could play that part with grace and dignity, he had +asked Miss Matilda Johnson to be his wife. In her kindness +she, though sacrificing far better prospects, had agreed; and he +could not but regard it as a happy chance that he should have +found at the nick of time such a woman to adorn his home, whose +innocence was as stunning as her beauty. Without much ado, +therefore, he and she had arranged to be married at once, and at +Overcombe, that his father might not be deprived of the pleasures +of the wedding feast. She had kindly consented to follow +him by land in the course of a few days, and to live in the house +as their guest for the week or so previous to the ceremony.</p> +<p>‘’Tis a proper good letter,’ said Mrs. +Comfort from the background. ‘I never heerd true love +better put out of hand in my life; and they seem ’nation +fond of one another.’</p> +<p>‘He haven’t knowed her such a very long +time,’ said Job Mitchell dubiously.</p> +<p>‘That’s nothing,’ said Esther Beach. +‘Nater will find her way, very rapid when the time’s +come for’t. Well, ’tis good news for ye, +miller.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, sure, I hope ’tis,’ said Loveday, +without, however, showing any great hurry to burst into the +frantic form of fatherly joy which the event should naturally +have produced, seeming more disposed to let off his feelings by +examining thoroughly into the fibres of the letter-paper.</p> +<p>‘I was five years a-courting my wife,’ he +presently remarked. ‘But folks were slower about +everything in them days. Well, since she’s coming we +must make her welcome. Did any of ye catch by my reading +which day it is he means? What with making out the +penmanship, my mind was drawn off from the sense here and +there.’</p> +<p>‘He says in three days,’ said Mrs. Garland. +‘The date of the letter will fix it.’</p> +<p>On examination it was found that the day appointed was the one +nearly expired; at which the miller jumped up and said, +‘Then he’ll be here before bedtime. I +didn’t gather till now that he was coming afore +Saturday. Why, he may drop in this very minute!’</p> +<p>He had scarcely spoken when footsteps were heard coming along +the front, and they presently halted at the door. Loveday +pushed through the neighbours and rushed out; and, seeing in the +passage a form which obscured the declining light, the miller +seized hold of him, saying, ‘O my dear Bob; then you are +come!’</p> +<p>‘Scrounch it all, miller, don’t quite pull my poor +shoulder out of joint! Whatever is the matter?’ said +the new-comer, trying to release himself from Loveday’s +grasp of affection. It was Uncle Benjy.</p> +<p>‘Thought ’twas my son!’ faltered the miller, +sinking back upon the toes of the neighbours who had closely +followed him into the entry. ‘Well, come in, Mr. +Derriman, and make yerself at home. Why, you haven’t +been here for years! Whatever has made you come now, sir, +of all times in the world?’</p> +<p>‘Is he in there with ye?’ whispered the farmer +with misgiving.</p> +<p>‘Who?’</p> +<p>‘My nephew, after that maid that he’s so mighty +smit with?’</p> +<p>‘O no; he never calls here.’</p> +<p>Farmer Derriman breathed a breath of relief. +‘Well, I’ve called to tell ye,’ he said, +‘that there’s more news of the French. We shall +have ’em here this month as sure as a gun. The +gunboats be all ready—near two thousand of +’em—and the whole army is at Boulogne. And, +miller, I know ye to be an honest man.’</p> +<p>Loveday did not say nay.</p> +<p>‘Neighbour Loveday, I know ye to be an honest +man,’ repeated the old squireen. ‘Can I speak +to ye alone?’</p> +<p>As the house was full, Loveday took him into the garden, all +the while upon tenter-hooks, not lest Buonaparte should appear in +their midst, but lest Bob should come whilst he was not there to +receive him. When they had got into a corner Uncle Benjy +said, ‘Miller, what with the French, and what with my +nephew Festus, I assure ye my life is nothing but wherrit from +morning to night. Miller Loveday, you are an honest +man.’</p> +<p>Loveday nodded.</p> +<p>‘Well, I’ve come to ask a favour—to ask if +you will take charge of my few poor title-deeds and documents and +suchlike, while I am away from home next week, lest anything +should befall me, and they should be stole away by Boney or +Festus, and I should have nothing left in the wide world? I +can trust neither banks nor lawyers in these terrible times; and +I am come to you.’</p> +<p>Loveday after some hesitation agreed to take care of anything +that Derriman should bring, whereupon the farmer said he would +call with the parchments and papers alluded to in the course of a +week. Derriman then went away by the garden gate, mounted +his pony, which had been tethered outside, and rode on till his +form was lost in the shades.</p> +<p>The miller rejoined his friends, and found that in the +meantime John had arrived. John informed the company that +after parting from his father and Anne he had rambled to the +harbour, and discovered the Pewit by the quay. On inquiry +he had learnt that she came in at eleven o’clock, and that +Bob had gone ashore.</p> +<p>‘We’ll go and meet him,’ said the +miller. ‘’Tis still light out of +doors.’</p> +<p>So, as the dew rose from the meads and formed fleeces in the +hollows, Loveday and his friends and neighbours strolled out, and +loitered by the stiles which hampered the footpath from Overcombe +to the high road at intervals of a hundred yards. John +Loveday, being obliged to return to camp, was unable to accompany +them, but Widow Garland thought proper to fall in with the +procession. When she had put on her bonnet she called to +her daughter. Anne said from upstairs that she was coming +in a minute; and her mother walked on without her.</p> +<p>What was Anne doing? Having hastily unlocked a +receptacle for emotional objects of small size, she took thence +the little folded paper with which we have already become +acquainted, and, striking a light from her private tinder-box, +she held the paper, and curl of hair it contained, in the candle +till they were burnt. Then she put on her hat and followed +her mother and the rest of them across the moist grey fields, +cheerfully singing in an undertone as she went, to assure herself +of her indifference to circumstances.</p> +<h2>XV. ‘CAPTAIN’ BOB LOVEDAY OF THE MERCHANT +SERVICE</h2> +<p>While Loveday and his neighbours were thus rambling forth, +full of expectancy, some of them, including Anne in the rear, +heard the crackling of light wheels along the curved lane to +which the path was the chord. At once Anne thought, +‘Perhaps that’s he, and we are missing +him.’ But recent events were not of a kind to induce +her to say anything; and the others of the company did not +reflect on the sound.</p> +<p>Had they gone across to the hedge which hid the lane, and +looked through it, they would have seen a light cart driven by a +boy, beside whom was seated a seafaring man, apparently of good +standing in the merchant service, with his feet outside on the +shaft. The vehicle went over the main bridge, turned in +upon the other bridge at the tail of the mill, and halted by the +door. The sailor alighted, showing himself to be a +well-shaped, active, and fine young man, with a bright eye, an +anonymous nose, and of such a rich complexion by exposure to +ripening suns that he might have been some connexion of the +foreigner who calls his likeness the Portrait of a Gentleman in +galleries of the Old Masters. Yet in spite of this, and +though Bob Loveday had been all over the world from Cape Horn to +Pekin, and from India’s coral strand to the White Sea, the +most conspicuous of all the marks that he had brought back with +him was an increased resemblance to his mother, who had lain all +the time beneath Overcombe church wall.</p> +<p>Captain Loveday tried the house door; finding this locked he +went to the mill door: this was locked also, the mill being +stopped for the night.</p> +<p>‘They are not at home,’ he said to the boy. +‘But never mind that. Just help to unload the things +and then I’ll pay you, and you can drive off +home.’</p> +<p>The cart was unloaded, and the boy was dismissed, thanking the +sailor profusely for the payment rendered. Then Bob +Loveday, finding that he had still some leisure on his hands, +looked musingly east, west, north, south, and nadir; after which +he bestirred himself by carrying his goods, article by article, +round to the back door, out of the way of casual passers. +This done, he walked round the mill in a more regardful attitude, +and surveyed its familiar features one by one—the panes of +the grinding-room, now as heretofore clouded with flour as with +stale hoar-frost; the meal lodged in the corners of the +window-sills, forming a soil in which lichens grew without ever +getting any bigger, as they had done since his smallest infancy; +the mosses on the plinth towards the river, reaching as high as +the capillary power of the walls would fetch up moisture for +their nourishment, and the penned mill-pond, now as ever on the +point of overflowing into the garden. Everything was the +same.</p> +<p>When he had had enough of this it occurred to Loveday that he +might get into the house in spite of the locked doors; and by +entering the garden, placing a pole from the fork of an +apple-tree to the window-sill of a bedroom on that side, and +climbing across like a Barbary ape, he entered the window and +stepped down inside. There was something anomalous in being +close to the familiar furniture without having first seen his +father, and its silent, impassive shine was not cheering; it was +as if his relations were all dead, and only their tables and +chests of drawers left to greet him. He went downstairs and +seated himself in the dark parlour. Finding this place, +too, rather solitary, and the tick of the invisible clock +preternaturally loud, he unearthed the tinder-box, obtained a +light, and set about making the house comfortable for his +father’s return, divining that the miller had gone out to +meet him by the wrong road.</p> +<p>Robert’s interest in this work increased as he +proceeded, and he bustled round and round the kitchen as lightly +as a girl. David, the indoor factotum, having lost himself +among the quart pots of Budmouth, there had been nobody left here +to prepare supper, and Bob had it all to himself. In a +short time a fire blazed up the chimney, a tablecloth was found, +the plates were clapped down, and a search made for what +provisions the house afforded, which, in addition to various +meats, included some fresh eggs of the elongated shape that +produces cockerels when hatched, and had been set aside on that +account for putting under the next broody hen.</p> +<p>A more reckless cracking of eggs than that which now went on +had never been known in Overcombe since the last large +christening; and as Loveday gashed one on the side, another at +the end, another longways, and another diagonally, he acquired +adroitness by practice, and at last made every son of a hen of +them fall into two hemispheres as neatly as if it opened by a +hinge. From eggs he proceeded to ham, and from ham to +kidneys, the result being a brilliant fry.</p> +<p>Not to be tempted to fall to before his father came back, the +returned navigator emptied the whole into a dish, laid a plate +over the top, his coat over the plate, and his hat over his +coat. Thus completely stopping in the appetizing smell, he +sat down to await events. He was relieved from the +tediousness of doing this by hearing voices outside; and in a +minute his father entered.</p> +<p>‘Glad to welcome ye home, father,’ said Bob. +‘And supper is just ready.’</p> +<p>‘Lard, lard—why, Captain Bob’s here!’ +said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘And we’ve been out waiting to meet thee!’ +said the miller, as he entered the room, followed by +representatives of the houses of Cripplestraw, Comfort, Mitchell, +Beach, and Snooks, together with some small beginnings of +Fencible Tremlett’s posterity. In the rear came +David, and quite in the vanishing-point of the composition, Anne +the fair.</p> +<p>‘I drove over; and so was forced to come by the +road,’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘And we went across the fields, thinking you’d +walk,’ said his father.</p> +<p>‘I should have been here this morning; but not so much +as a wheelbarrow could I get for my traps; everything was gone to +the review. So I went too, thinking I might meet you +there. I was then obliged to return to the harbour for the +luggage.’</p> +<p>Then there was a welcoming of Captain Bob by pulling out his +arms like drawers and shutting them again, smacking him on the +back as if he were choking, holding him at arm’s length as +if he were of too large type to read close. All which +persecution Bob bore with a wide, genial smile that was shaken +into fragments and scattered promiscuously among the +spectators.</p> +<p>‘Get a chair for ’n!’ said the miller to +David, whom they had met in the fields and found to have got +nothing worse by his absence than a slight slant in his walk.</p> +<p>‘Never mind—I am not tired—I have been here +ever so long,’ said Bob. ‘And +I—’ But the chair having been placed behind +him, and a smart touch in the hollow of a person’s knee by +the edge of that piece of furniture having a tendency to make the +person sit without further argument, Bob sank down dumb, and the +others drew up other chairs at a convenient nearness for easy +analytic vision and the subtler forms of good fellowship. +The miller went about saying, ‘David, the nine best glasses +from the corner cupboard!’—‘David, the +corkscrew!’—‘David, whisk the tail of thy +smock-frock round the inside of these quart pots afore you draw +drink in ’em—they be an inch thick in +dust!’—‘David, lower that chimney-crook a +couple of notches that the flame may touch the bottom of the +kettle, and light three more of the largest +candles!’—‘If you can’t get the cork out +of the jar, David, bore a hole in the tub of Hollands +that’s buried under the scroff in the fuel-house; +d’ye hear?—Dan Brown left en there yesterday as a +return for the little porker I gied en.’</p> +<p>When they had all had a thimbleful round, and the superfluous +neighbours had reluctantly departed, one by one, the inmates gave +their minds to the supper, which David had begun to serve up.</p> +<p>‘What be you rolling back the tablecloth for, +David?’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘Maister Bob have put down one of the under sheets by +mistake, and I thought you might not like it, sir, as +there’s ladies present!’</p> +<p>‘Faith, ’twas the first thing that came to +hand,’ said Robert. ‘It seemed a tablecloth to +me.’</p> +<p>‘Never mind—don’t pull off the things now +he’s laid ’em down—let it bide,’ said the +miller. ‘But where’s Widow Garland and Maidy +Anne?’</p> +<p>‘They were here but a minute ago,’ said +David. ‘Depend upon it they have slinked off +‘cause they be shy.’</p> +<p>The miller at once went round to ask them to come back and sup +with him; and while he was gone David told Bob in confidence what +an excellent place he had for an old man.</p> +<p>‘Yes, Cap’n Bob, as I suppose I must call ye; +I’ve worked for yer father these eight-and-thirty years, +and we have always got on very well together. Trusts me +with all the keys, lends me his sleeve-waistcoat, and leaves the +house entirely to me. Widow Garland next door, too, is just +the same with me, and treats me as if I was her own +child.’</p> +<p>‘She must have married young to make you that, +David.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes—I’m years older than she. +’Tis only my common way of speaking.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland would not come in to supper, and the meal +proceeded without her, Bob recommending to his father the dish he +had cooked, in the manner of a householder to a stranger just +come. The miller was anxious to know more about his +son’s plans for the future, but would not for the present +interrupt his eating, looking up from his own plate to appreciate +Bob’s travelled way of putting English victuals out of +sight, as he would have looked at a mill on improved +principles.</p> +<p>David had only just got the table clear, and set the plates in +a row under the bakehouse table for the cats to lick, when the +door was hastily opened, and Mrs. Garland came in, looking +concerned.</p> +<p>‘I have been waiting to hear the plates removed to tell +you how frightened we are at something we hear at the +back-door. It seems like robbers muttering; but when I look +out there’s nobody there!’</p> +<p>‘This must be seen to,’ said the miller, rising +promptly. ‘David, light the middle-sized +lantern. I’ll go and search the garden.’</p> +<p>‘And I’ll go too,’ said his son, taking up a +cudgel. ‘Lucky I’ve come home just in +time!’</p> +<p>They went out stealthily, followed by the widow and Anne, who +had been afraid to stay alone in the house under the +circumstances. No sooner were they beyond the door when, +sure enough, there was the muttering almost close at hand, and +low upon the ground, as from persons lying down in hiding.</p> +<p>‘Bless my heart!’ said Bob, striking his head as +though it were some enemy’s: ‘why, ’tis my +luggage. I’d quite forgot it!’</p> +<p>‘What!’ asked his father.</p> +<p>‘My luggage. Really, if it hadn’t been for +Mrs. Garland it would have stayed there all night, and they, poor +things! would have been starved. I’ve got all sorts +of articles for ye. You go inside, and I’ll bring +’em in. ’Tis parrots that you hear a muttering, +Mrs. Garland. You needn’t be afraid any +more.’</p> +<p>‘Parrots?’ said the miller. ‘Well, +I’m glad ’tis no worse. But how couldst forget +so, Bob?’</p> +<p>The packages were taken in by David and Bob, and the first +unfastened were three, wrapped in cloths, which being stripped +off revealed three cages, with a gorgeous parrot in each.</p> +<p>‘This one is for you, father, to hang up outside the +door, and amuse us,’ said Bob. ‘He’ll +talk very well, but he’s sleepy to-night. This other +one I brought along for any neighbour that would like to have +him. His colours are not so bright; but ’tis a good +bird. If you would like to have him you are welcome to +him,’ he said, turning to Anne, who had been tempted +forward by the birds. ‘You have hardly spoken yet, +Miss Anne, but I recollect you very well. How much taller +you have got, to be sure!’</p> +<p>Anne said she was much obliged, but did not know what she +could do with such a present. Mrs. Garland accepted it for +her, and the sailor went on—‘Now this other bird I +hardly know what to do with; but I dare say he’ll come in +for something or other.’</p> +<p>‘He is by far the prettiest,’ said the +widow. ‘I would rather have it than the other, if you +don’t mind.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said Bob, with embarrassment. +‘But the fact is, that bird will hardly do for ye, +ma’am. He’s a hard swearer, to tell the truth; +and I am afraid he’s too old to be broken of it.’</p> +<p>‘How dreadful!’ said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘We could keep him in the mill,’ suggested the +miller. ‘It won’t matter about the grinder +hearing him, for he can’t learn to cuss worse than he do +already!’</p> +<p>‘The grinder shall have him, then,’ said +Bob. ‘The one I have given you, ma’am, has no +harm in him at all. You might take him to church o’ +Sundays as far as that goes.’</p> +<p>The sailor now untied a small wooden box about a foot square, +perforated with holes. ‘Here are two +marmosets,’ he continued. ‘You can’t see +them to-night; but they are beauties—the tufted +sort.’</p> +<p>‘What’s a marmoset?’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘O, a little kind of monkey. They bite strangers +rather hard, but you’ll soon get used to +’em.’</p> +<p>‘They are wrapped up in something, I declare,’ +said Mrs. Garland, peeping in through a chink.</p> +<p>‘Yes, that’s my flannel shirt,’ said Bob +apologetically. ‘They suffer terribly from cold in +this climate, poor things! and I had nothing better to give +them. Well, now, in this next box I’ve got things of +different sorts.’</p> +<p>The latter was a regular seaman’s chest, and out of it +he produced shells of many sizes and colours, carved ivories, +queer little caskets, gorgeous feathers, and several silk +handkerchiefs, which articles were spread out upon all the +available tables and chairs till the house began to look like a +bazaar.</p> +<p>‘What a lovely shawl!’ exclaimed Widow Garland, in +her interest forestalling the regular exhibition by looking into +the box at what was coming.</p> +<p>‘O yes,’ said the mate, pulling out a couple of +the most bewitching shawls that eyes ever saw. ‘One +of these I am going to give to that young lady I am shortly to be +married to, you know, Mrs. Garland. Has father told you +about it? Matilda Johnson, of Southampton, that’s her +name.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, we know all about it,’ said the widow.</p> +<p>‘Well, I shall give one of these shawls to +her—because, of course, I ought to.’</p> +<p>‘Of course,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘But the other one I’ve got no use for at all; +and,’ he continued, looking round, ‘will you have it, +Miss Anne? You refused the parrot, and you ought not to +refuse this.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you,’ said Anne calmly, but much +distressed; ‘but really I don’t want it, and +couldn’t take it.’</p> +<p>‘But do have it!’ said Bob in hurt tones, Mrs. +Garland being all the while on tenter-hooks lest Anne should +persist in her absurd refusal.</p> +<p>‘Why, there’s another reason why you ought +to!’ said he, his face lighting up with +recollections. ‘It never came into my head till this +moment that I used to be your beau in a humble sort of way. +Faith, so I did, and we used to meet at places sometimes, +didn’t we—that is, when you were not too proud; and +once I gave you, or somebody else, a bit of my hair in +fun.’</p> +<p>‘It was somebody else,’ said Anne quickly.</p> +<p>‘Ah, perhaps it was,’ said Bob innocently. +‘But it was you I used to meet, or try to, I am sure. +Well, I’ve never thought of that boyish time for years till +this minute! I am sure you ought to accept some one gift, +dear, out of compliment to those old times!’</p> +<p>Anne drew back and shook her head, for she would not trust her +voice.</p> +<p>‘Well, Mrs. Garland, then you shall have it,’ said +Bob, tossing the shawl to that ready receiver. ‘If +you don’t, upon my life I will throw it out to the first +beggar I see. Now, here’s a parcel of cap ribbons of +the splendidest sort I could get. Have these—do, +Anne!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, do,’ said Mrs. Garland.</p> +<p>‘I promised them to Matilda,’ continued Bob; +‘but I am sure she won’t want ’em, as she has +got some of her own: and I would as soon see them upon your head, +my dear, as upon hers.’</p> +<p>‘I think you had better keep them for your bride if you +have promised them to her,’ said Mrs. Garland mildly.</p> +<p>‘It wasn’t exactly a promise. I just said, +“Til, there’s some cap ribbons in my box, if you +would like to have them.” But she’s got enough +things already for any bride in creation. Anne, now you +shall have ’em—upon my soul you shall—or +I’ll fling them down the mill-tail!’</p> +<p>Anne had meant to be perfectly firm in refusing everything, +for reasons obvious even to that poor waif, the meanest capacity; +but when it came to this point she was absolutely compelled to +give in, and reluctantly received the cap ribbons in her arms, +blushing fitfully, and with her lip trembling in a motion which +she tried to exhibit as a smile.</p> +<p>‘What would Tilly say if she knew!’ said the +miller slily.</p> +<p>‘Yes, indeed—and it is wrong of him!’ Anne +instantly cried, tears running down her face as she threw the +parcel of ribbons on the floor. ‘You’d better +bestow your gifts where you bestow your l—l—love, Mr. +Loveday—that’s what I say!’ And Anne +turned her back and went away.</p> +<p>‘I’ll take them for her,’ said Mrs. Garland, +quickly picking up the parcel.</p> +<p>‘Now that’s a pity,’ said Bob, looking +regretfully after Anne. ‘I didn’t remember that +she was a quick-tempered sort of girl at all. Tell her, +Mrs. Garland, that I ask her pardon. But of course I +didn’t know she was too proud to accept a little +present—how should I? Upon my life if it wasn’t +for Matilda I’d—Well, that can’t be, of +course.’</p> +<p>‘What’s this?’ said Mrs. Garland, touching +with her foot a large package that had been laid down by Bob +unseen.</p> +<p>‘That’s a bit of baccy for myself,’ said +Robert meekly.</p> +<p>The examination of presents at last ended, and the two +families parted for the night. When they were alone, Mrs. +Garland said to Anne, ‘What a close girl you are! I +am sure I never knew that Bob Loveday and you had walked +together: you must have been mere children.’</p> +<p>‘O yes—so we were,’ said Anne, now quite +recovered. ‘It was when we first came here, about a +year after father died. We did not walk together in any +regular way. You know I have never thought the Lovedays +high enough for me. It was only just—nothing at all, +and I had almost forgotten it.’</p> +<p>It is to be hoped that somebody’s sins were forgiven her +that night before she went to bed.</p> +<p>When Bob and his father were left alone, the miller said, +‘Well, Robert, about this young woman of +thine—Matilda what’s her name?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, father—Matilda Johnson. I was just +going to tell ye about her.’</p> +<p>The miller nodded, and sipped his mug.</p> +<p>‘Well, she is an excellent body,’ continued Bob; +‘that can truly be said—a real charmer, you +know—a nice good comely young woman, a miracle of genteel +breeding, you know, and all that. She can throw her hair +into the nicest curls, and she’s got splendid gowns and +headclothes. In short, you might call her a land +mermaid. She’ll make such a first-rate wife as there +never was.’</p> +<p>‘No doubt she will,’ said the miller; ‘for I +have never known thee wanting in sense in a jineral +way.’ He turned his cup round on its axis till the +handle had travelled a complete circle. ‘How long did +you say in your letter that you had known her?’</p> +<p>‘A fortnight.’</p> +<p>‘Not <i>very</i> long.’</p> +<p>‘It don’t sound long, ’tis true; and +’twas really longer—’twas fifteen days and a +quarter. But hang it, father, I could see in the twinkling +of an eye that the girl would do. I know a woman well +enough when I see her—I ought to, indeed, having been so +much about the world. Now, for instance, there’s +Widow Garland and her daughter. The girl is a nice little +thing; but the old woman—O no!’ Bob shook his +head.</p> +<p>‘What of her?’ said his father, slightly shifting +in his chair.</p> +<p>‘Well, she’s, she’s—I mean, I should +never have chose her, you know. She’s of a nice +disposition, and young for a widow with a grown-up daughter; but +if all the men had been like me she would never have had a +husband. I like her in some respects; but she’s a +style of beauty I don’t care for.’</p> +<p>‘O, if ’tis only looks you are thinking of,’ +said the miller, much relieved, ‘there’s nothing to +be said, of course. Though there’s many a duchess +worse-looking, if it comes to argument, as you would find, my +son,’ he added, with a sense of having been mollified too +soon.</p> +<p>The mate’s thoughts were elsewhere by this time.</p> +<p>‘As to my marrying Matilda, thinks I, here’s one +of the very genteelest sort, and I may as well do the job at +once. So I chose her. She’s a dear girl; +there’s nobody like her, search where you will.’</p> +<p>‘How many did you choose her out from?’ inquired +his father.</p> +<p>‘Well, she was the only young woman I happened to know +in Southampton, that’s true. But what of that? +It would have been all the same if I had known a +hundred.’</p> +<p>‘Her father is in business near the docks, I +suppose?’</p> +<p>‘Well, no. In short, I didn’t see her +father.’</p> +<p>‘Her mother?’</p> +<p>‘Her mother? No, I didn’t. I think her +mother is dead; but she has got a very rich aunt living at +Melchester. I didn’t see her aunt, because there +wasn’t time to go; but of course we shall know her when we +are married.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said the miller, trying to +feel quite satisfied. ‘And she will soon be +here?’</p> +<p>‘Ay, she’s coming soon,’ said Bob. +‘She has gone to this aunt’s at Melchester to get her +things packed, and suchlike, or she would have come with +me. I am going to meet the coach at the King’s Arms, +Casterbridge, on Sunday, at one o’clock. To show what +a capital sort of wife she’ll be, I may tell you that she +wanted to come by the Mercury, because ’tis a little +cheaper than the other. But I said, “For once in your +life do it well, and come by the Royal Mail, and I’ll +pay.” I can have the pony and trap to fetch her, I +suppose, as ’tis too far for her to walk?’</p> +<p>‘Of course you can, Bob, or anything else. And +I’ll do all I can to give you a good wedding +feast.’</p> +<h2>XVI. THEY MAKE READY FOR THE ILLUSTRIOUS STRANGER</h2> +<p>Preparations for Matilda’s welcome, and for the event +which was to follow, at once occupied the attention of the +mill. The miller and his man had but dim notions of +housewifery on any large scale; so the great wedding cleaning was +kindly supervised by Mrs. Garland, Bob being mostly away during +the day with his brother, the trumpet-major, on various errands, +one of which was to buy paint and varnish for the gig that +Matilda was to be fetched in, which he had determined to decorate +with his own hands.</p> +<p>By the widow’s direction the old familiar incrustation +of shining dirt, imprinted along the back of the settle by the +heads of countless jolly sitters, was scrubbed and scraped away; +the brown circle round the nail whereon the miller hung his hat, +stained by the brim in wet weather, was whitened over; the tawny +smudges of bygone shoulders in the passage were removed without +regard to a certain genial and historical value which they had +acquired. The face of the clock, coated with verdigris as +thick as a diachylon plaister, was rubbed till the figures +emerged into day; while, inside the case of the same chronometer, +the cobwebs that formed triangular hammocks, which the pendulum +could hardly wade through, were cleared away at one swoop.</p> +<p>Mrs. Garland also assisted at the invasion of worm-eaten +cupboards, where layers of ancient smells lingered on in the +stagnant air, and recalled to the reflective nose the many good +things that had been kept there. The upper floors were +scrubbed with such abundance of water that the old-established +death-watches, wood-lice, and flour-worms were all drowned, the +suds trickling down into the room below in so lively and novel a +manner as to convey the romantic notion that the miller lived in +a cave with dripping stalactites.</p> +<p>They moved what had never been moved before—the oak +coffer, containing the miller’s wardrobe—a tremendous +weight, what with its locks, hinges, nails, dirt, framework, and +the hard stratification of old jackets, waistcoats, and +knee-breeches at the bottom, never disturbed since the +miller’s wife died, and half pulverized by the moths, whose +flattened skeletons lay amid the mass in thousands.</p> +<p>‘It fairly makes my back open and shut!’ said +Loveday, as, in obedience to Mrs. Garland’s direction, he +lifted one corner, the grinder and David assisting at the +others. ‘All together: speak when ye be going to +heave. Now!’</p> +<p>The pot covers and skimmers were brought to such a state that, +on examining them, the beholder was not conscious of utensils, +but of his own face in a condition of hideous elasticity. +The broken clock-line was mended, the kettles rocked, the creeper +nailed up, and a new handle put to the warming-pan. The +large household lantern was cleaned out, after three years of +uninterrupted accumulation, the operation yielding a conglomerate +of candle-snuffs, candle-ends, remains of matches, lamp-black, +and eleven ounces and a half of good grease—invaluable as +dubbing for skitty boots and ointment for cart-wheels.</p> +<p>Everybody said that the mill residence had not been so +thoroughly scoured for twenty years. The miller and David +looked on with a sort of awe tempered by gratitude, tacitly +admitting by their gaze that this was beyond what they had ever +thought of. Mrs. Garland supervised all with disinterested +benevolence. It would never have done, she said, for his +future daughter-in-law to see the house in its original +state. She would have taken a dislike to him, and perhaps +to Bob likewise.</p> +<p>‘Why don’t ye come and live here with me, and then +you would be able to see to it at all times?’ said the +miller as she bustled about again. To which she answered +that she was considering the matter, and might in good +time. He had previously informed her that his plan was to +put Bob and his wife in the part of the house that she, Mrs. +Garland, occupied, as soon as she chose to enter his, which +relieved her of any fear of being incommoded by Matilda.</p> +<p>The cooking for the wedding festivities was on a proportionate +scale of thoroughness. They killed the four supernumerary +chickens that had just begun to crow, and the little curly-tailed +barrow pig, in preference to the sow; not having been put up +fattening for more than five weeks it was excellent small meat, +and therefore more delicate and likely to suit a town-bred +lady’s taste than the large one, which, having reached the +weight of fourteen score, might have been a little gross to a +cultured palate. There were also provided a cold chine, +stuffed veal, and two pigeon pies. Also thirty rings of +black-pot, a dozen of white-pot, and ten knots of tender and +well-washed chitterlings, cooked plain in case she should like a +change.</p> +<p>As additional reserves there were sweetbreads, and five milts, +sewed up at one side in the form of a chrysalis, and stuffed with +thyme, sage, parsley, mint, groats, rice, milk, chopped egg, and +other ingredients. They were afterwards roasted before a +slow fire, and eaten hot.</p> +<p>The business of chopping so many herbs for the various +stuffings was found to be aching work for women; and David, the +miller, the grinder, and the grinder’s boy being fully +occupied in their proper branches, and Bob being very busy +painting the gig and touching up the harness, Loveday called in a +friendly dragoon of John’s regiment who was passing by, and +he, being a muscular man, willingly chopped all the afternoon for +a quart of strong, judiciously administered, and all other +victuals found, taking off his jacket and gloves, rolling up his +shirt-sleeves and unfastening his collar in an honourable and +energetic way.</p> +<p>All windfalls and maggot-cored codlins were excluded from the +apple pies; and as there was no known dish large enough for the +purpose, the puddings were stirred up in the milking-pail, and +boiled in the three-legged bell-metal crock, of great weight and +antiquity, which every travelling tinker for the previous thirty +years had tapped with his stick, coveted, made a bid for, and +often attempted to steal.</p> +<p>In the liquor line Loveday laid in an ample barrel of +Casterbridge ‘strong beer.’ This renowned +drink—now almost as much a thing of the past as +Falstaff’s favourite beverage—was not only well +calculated to win the hearts of soldiers blown dry and dusty by +residence in tents on a hill-top, but of any wayfarer whatever in +that land. It was of the most beautiful colour that the eye +of an artist in beer could desire; full in body, yet brisk as a +volcano; piquant, yet without a twang; luminous as an autumn +sunset; free from streakiness of taste; but, finally, rather +heady. The masses worshipped it, the minor gentry loved it +more than wine, and by the most illustrious county families it +was not despised. Anybody brought up for being drunk and +disorderly in the streets of its natal borough, had only to prove +that he was a stranger to the place and its liquor to be +honourably dismissed by the magistrates, as one overtaken in a +fault that no man could guard against who entered the town +unawares.</p> +<p>In addition, Mr. Loveday also tapped a hogshead of fine cider +that he had had mellowing in the house for several months, having +bought it of an honest down-country man, who did not colour, for +any special occasion like the present. It had been pressed +from fruit judiciously chosen by an old hand—Horner and +Cleeves apple for the body, a few Tom-Putts for colour, and just +a dash of Old Five-corners for sparkle—a selection +originally made to please the palate of a well-known temperate +earl who was a regular cider-drinker, and lived to be +eighty-eight.</p> +<p>On the morning of the Sunday appointed for her coming Captain +Bob Loveday set out to meet his bride. He had been all the +week engaged in painting the gig, assisted by his brother at odd +times, and it now appeared of a gorgeous yellow, with blue +streaks, and tassels at the corners, and red wheels outlined with +a darker shade. He put in the pony at half-past eleven, +Anne looking at him from the door as he packed himself into the +vehicle and drove off. There may be young women who look +out at young men driving to meet their brides as Anne looked at +Captain Bob, and yet are quite indifferent to the circumstances; +but they are not often met with.</p> +<p>So much dust had been raised on the highway by traffic +resulting from the presence of the Court at the town further on, +that brambles hanging from the fence, and giving a friendly +scratch to the wanderer’s face, were dingy as church +cobwebs; and the grass on the margin had assumed a paper-shaving +hue. Bob’s father had wished him to take David, lest, +from want of recent experience at the whip, he should meet with +any mishap; but, picturing to himself the awkwardness of three in +such circumstances, Bob would not hear of this; and nothing more +serious happened to his driving than that the wheel-marks formed +two serpentine lines along the road during the first mile or two, +before he had got his hand in, and that the horse shied at a +milestone, a piece of paper, a sleeping tramp, and a wheelbarrow, +just to make use of the opportunity of being in bad hands.</p> +<p>He entered Casterbridge between twelve and one, and, putting +up at the Old Greyhound, walked on to the Bow. Here, rather +dusty on the ledges of his clothes, he stood and waited while the +people in their best summer dresses poured out of the three +churches round him. When they had all gone, and a smell of +cinders and gravy had spread down the ancient high-street, and +the pie-dishes from adjacent bakehouses had all travelled past, +he saw the mail coach rise above the arch of Grey’s Bridge, +a quarter of a mile distant, surmounted by swaying knobs, which +proved to be the heads of the outside travellers.</p> +<p>‘That’s the way for a man’s bride to come to +him,’ said Robert to himself with a feeling of poetry; and +as the horn sounded and the horses clattered up the street he +walked down to the inn. The knot of hostlers and +inn-servants had gathered, the horses were dragged from the +vehicle, and the passengers for Casterbridge began to +descend. Captain Bob eyed them over, looked inside, looked +outside again; to his disappointment Matilda was not there, nor +her boxes, nor anything that was hers. Neither coachman nor +guard had seen or heard of such a person at Melchester; and Bob +walked slowly away.</p> +<p>Depressed by forebodings to an extent which took away nearly a +third of his appetite, he sat down in the parlour of the Old +Greyhound to a slice from the family joint of the landlord. +This gentleman, who dined in his shirt-sleeves, partly because it +was August, and partly from a sense that they would not be so fit +for public view further on in the week, suggested that Bob should +wait till three or four that afternoon, when the road-waggon +would arrive, as the lost lady might have preferred that mode of +conveyance; and when Bob appeared rather hurt at the suggestion, +the landlord’s wife assured him, as a woman who knew good +life, that many genteel persons travelled in that way during the +present high price of provisions. Loveday, who knew little +of travelling by land, readily accepted her assurance and +resolved to wait.</p> +<p>Wandering up and down the pavement, or leaning against some +hot wall between the waggon-office and the corner of the street +above, he passed the time away. It was a still, sunny, +drowsy afternoon, and scarcely a soul was visible in the length +and breadth of the street. The office was not far from All +Saints’ Church, and the church-windows being open, he could +hear the afternoon service from where he lingered as distinctly +as if he had been one of the congregation. Thus he was +mentally conducted through the Psalms, through the first and +second lessons, through the burst of fiddles and clarionets which +announced the evening-hymn, and well into the sermon, before any +signs of the waggon could be seen upon the London road.</p> +<p>The afternoon sermons at this church being of a dry and +metaphysical nature at that date, it was by a special providence +that the waggon-office was placed near the ancient fabric, so +that whenever the Sunday waggon was late, which it always was in +hot weather, in cold weather, in wet weather, and in weather of +almost every other sort, the rattle, dismounting, and swearing +outside completely drowned the parson’s voice within, and +sustained the flagging interest of the congregation at precisely +the right moment. No sooner did the charity children begin +to writhe on their benches, and adult snores grow audible, than +the waggon arrived.</p> +<p>Captain Loveday felt a kind of sinking in his poetry at the +possibility of her for whom they had made such preparations being +in the slow, unwieldy vehicle which crunched its way towards him; +but he would not give in to the weakness. Neither would he +walk down the street to meet the waggon, lest she should not be +there. At last the broad wheels drew up against the kerb, +the waggoner with his white smock-frock, and whip as long as a +fishing-line, descended from the pony on which he rode alongside, +and the six broad-chested horses backed from their collars and +shook themselves. In another moment something showed forth, +and he knew that Matilda was there.</p> +<p>Bob felt three cheers rise within him as she stepped down; but +it being Sunday he did not utter them. In dress, Miss +Johnson passed his expectations—a green and white gown, +with long, tight sleeves, a green silk handkerchief round her +neck and crossed in front, a green parasol, and green +gloves. It was strange enough to see this verdant +caterpillar turn out of a road-waggon, and gracefully shake +herself free from the bits of straw and fluff which would usually +gather on the raiment of the grandest travellers by that +vehicle.</p> +<p>‘But, my dear Matilda,’ said Bob, when he had +kissed her three times with much publicity—the practical +step he had determined on seeming to demand that these things +should no longer be done in a corner—‘my dear +Matilda, why didn’t you come by the coach, having the money +for’t and all?’</p> +<p>‘That’s my scrimping!’ said Matilda in a +delightful gush. ‘I know you won’t be offended +when you know I did it to save against a rainy day!’</p> +<p>Bob, of course, was not offended, though the glory of meeting +her had been less; and even if vexation were possible, it would +have been out of place to say so. Still, he would have +experienced no little surprise had he learnt the real reason of +his Matilda’s change of plan. That angel had, in +short, so wildly spent Bob’s and her own money in the +adornment of her person before setting out, that she found +herself without a sufficient margin for her fare by coach, and +had scrimped from sheer necessity.</p> +<p>‘Well, I have got the trap out at the Greyhound,’ +said Bob. ‘I don’t know whether it will hold +your luggage and us too; but it looked more respectable than the +waggon on a Sunday, and if there’s not room for the boxes I +can walk alongside.’</p> +<p>‘I think there will be room,’ said Miss Johnson +mildly. And it was soon very evident that she spoke the +truth; for when her property was deposited on the pavement, it +consisted of a trunk about eighteen inches long, and nothing +more.</p> +<p>‘O—that’s all!’ said Captain Loveday, +surprised.</p> +<p>‘That’s all,’ said the young woman +assuringly. ‘I didn’t want to give trouble, you +know, and what I have besides I have left at my +aunt’s.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, of course,’ he answered readily. +‘And as it’s no bigger, I can carry it in my hand to +the inn, and so it will be no trouble at all.’</p> +<p>He caught up the little box, and they went side by side to the +Greyhound; and in ten minutes they were trotting up the Southern +Road.</p> +<p>Bob did not hurry the horse, there being many things to say +and hear, for which the present situation was admirably +suited. The sun shone occasionally into Matilda’s +face as they drove on, its rays picking out all her features to a +great nicety. Her eyes would have been called brown, but +they were really eel-colour, like many other nice brown eyes; +they were well-shaped and rather bright, though they had more of +a broad shine than a sparkle. She had a firm, sufficient +nose, which seemed to say of itself that it was good as noses +go. She had rather a picturesque way of wrapping her upper +in her lower lip, so that the red of the latter showed +strongly. Whenever she gazed against the sun towards the +distant hills, she brought into her forehead, without knowing it, +three short vertical lines—not there at other +times—giving her for the moment rather a hard look. +And in turning her head round to a far angle, to stare at +something or other that he pointed out, the drawn flesh of her +neck became a mass of lines. But Bob did not look at these +things, which, of course, were of no significance; for had she +not told him, when they compared ages, that she was a little over +two-and-twenty?</p> +<p>As Nature was hardly invented at this early point of the +century, Bob’s Matilda could not say much about the glamour +of the hills, or the shimmering of the foliage, or the wealth of +glory in the distant sea, as she would doubtless have done had +she lived later on; but she did her best to be interesting, +asking Bob about matters of social interest in the neighbourhood, +to which she seemed quite a stranger.</p> +<p>‘Is your watering-place a large city?’ she +inquired when they mounted the hill where the Overcombe folk had +waited for the King.</p> +<p>‘Bless you, my dear—no! ’Twould be +nothing if it wasn’t for the Royal Family, and the lords +and ladies, and the regiments of soldiers, and the frigates, and +the King’s messengers, and the actors and actresses, and +the games that go on.’</p> +<p>At the words ‘actors and actresses,’ the innocent +young thing pricked up her ears.</p> +<p>‘Does Elliston pay as good salaries this summer as +in—?’</p> +<p>‘O, you know about it then? I +thought—’</p> +<p>‘O no, no! I have heard of Budmouth—read in +the papers, you know, dear Robert, about the doings there, and +the actors and actresses, you know.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes, I see. Well, I have been away from +England a long time, and don’t know much about the theatre +in the town; but I’ll take you there some day. Would +it be a treat to you?’</p> +<p>‘O, an amazing treat!’ said Miss Johnson, with an +ecstasy in which a close observer might have discovered a tinge +of ghastliness.</p> +<p>‘You’ve never been into one perhaps, +dear?’</p> +<p>‘N—never,’ said Matilda flatly. +‘Whatever do I see yonder—a row of white things on +the down?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, that’s a part of the encampment above +Overcombe. Lots of soldiers are encamped about here; those +are the white tops of their tents.’</p> +<p>He pointed to a wing of the camp that had become +visible. Matilda was much interested.</p> +<p>‘It will make it very lively for us,’ he added, +‘especially as John is there.’</p> +<p>She thought so too, and thus they chatted on.</p> +<h2>XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT</h2> +<p>Meanwhile Miller Loveday was expecting the pair with interest; +and about five o’clock, after repeated outlooks, he saw two +specks the size of caraway seeds on the far line of ridge where +the sunlit white of the road met the blue of the sky. Then +the remainder parts of Bob and his lady became visible, and then +the whole vehicle, end on, and he heard the dry rattle of the +wheels on the dusty road. Miller Loveday’s plan, as +far as he had formed any, was that Robert and his wife should +live with him in the millhouse until Mrs. Garland made up her +mind to join him there; in which event her present house would be +made over to the young couple. Upon all grounds, he wished +to welcome becomingly the woman of his son’s choice, and +came forward promptly as they drew up at the door.</p> +<p>‘What a lovely place you’ve got here!’ said +Miss Johnson, when the miller had received her from the +captain. ‘A real stream of water, a real mill-wheel, +and real fowls, and everything!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, ’tis real enough,’ said Loveday, +looking at the river with balanced sentiments; ‘and so you +will say when you’ve lived here a bit as mis’ess, and +had the trouble of claning the furniture.’</p> +<p>At this Miss Johnson looked modest, and continued to do so +till Anne, not knowing they were there, came round the corner of +the house, with her prayer-book in her hand, having just arrived +from church. Bob turned and smiled to her, at which Miss +Johnson looked glum. How long she would have remained in +that phase is unknown, for just then her ears were assailed by a +loud bass note from the other side, causing her to jump +round.</p> +<p>‘O la! what dreadful thing is it?’ she exclaimed, +and beheld a cow of Loveday’s, of the name of Crumpler, +standing close to her shoulder. It being about +milking-time, she had come to look up David and hasten on the +operation.</p> +<p>‘O, what a horrid bull!—it did frighten me +so. I hope I shan’t faint,’ said Matilda.</p> +<p>The miller immediately used the formula which has been uttered +by the proprietors of live stock ever since Noah’s +time. ‘She won’t hurt ye. Hoosh, +Crumpler! She’s as timid as a mouse, +ma’am.’</p> +<p>But as Crumpler persisted in making another terrific inquiry +for David, Matilda could not help closing her eyes and saying, +‘O, I shall be gored to death!’ her head falling back +upon Bob’s shoulder, which—seeing the urgent +circumstances, and knowing her delicate nature—he had +providentially placed in a position to catch her. Anne +Garland, who had been standing at the corner of the house, not +knowing whether to go back or come on, at this felt her womanly +sympathies aroused. She ran and dipped her handkerchief +into the splashing mill-tail, and with it damped Matilda’s +face. But as her eyes still remained closed, Bob, to +increase the effect, took the handkerchief from Anne and wrung it +out on the bridge of Matilda’s nose, whence it ran over the +rest of her face in a stream.</p> +<p>‘O, Captain Loveday!’ said Anne, ‘the water +is running over her green silk handkerchief, and into her pretty +reticule!’</p> +<p>‘There—if I didn’t think so!’ +exclaimed Matilda, opening her eyes, starting up, and promptly +pulling out her own handkerchief, with which she wiped away the +drops, and an unimportant trifle of her complexion, assisted by +Anne, who, in spite of her background of antagonistic emotions, +could not help being interested.</p> +<p>‘That’s right!’ said the miller, his spirits +reviving with the revival of Matilda. ‘The lady is +not used to country life; are you, ma’am?’</p> +<p>‘I am not,’ replied the sufferer. ‘All +is so strange about here!’</p> +<p>Suddenly there spread into the firmament, from the direction +of the down:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘Ra, ta, ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ra, +ta, ta!’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>‘O dear, dear! more hideous country sounds, I +suppose?’ she inquired, with another start.</p> +<p>‘O no,’ said the miller cheerfully. +‘’Tis only my son John’s trumpeter chaps at the +camp of dragoons just above us, a-blowing Mess, or Feed, or +Picket, or some other of their vagaries. John will be much +pleased to tell you the meaning on’t when he comes +down. He’s trumpet-major, as you may know, +ma’am.’</p> +<p>‘O yes; you mean Captain Loveday’s brother. +Dear Bob has mentioned him.’</p> +<p>‘If you come round to Widow Garland’s side of the +house, you can see the camp,’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘Don’t force her; she’s tired with her long +journey,’ said Mrs. Garland humanely, the widow having come +out in the general wish to see Captain Bob’s choice. +Indeed, they all behaved towards her as if she were a tender +exotic, which their crude country manners might seriously +injure.</p> +<p>She went into the house, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and her +daughter; though before leaving Bob she managed to whisper in his +ear, ‘Don’t tell them I came by waggon, will you, +dear?’—a request which was quite needless, for Bob +had long ago determined to keep that a dead secret; not because +it was an uncommon mode of travel, but simply that it was hardly +the usual conveyance for a gorgeous lady to her bridal.</p> +<p>As the men had a feeling that they would be superfluous +indoors just at present, the miller assisted David in taking the +horse round to the stables, Bob following, and leaving Matilda to +the women. Indoors, Miss Johnson admired everything: the +new parrots and marmosets, the black beams of the ceiling, the +double-corner cupboard with the glass doors, through which +gleamed the remainders of sundry china sets acquired by +Bob’s mother in her housekeeping—two-handled +sugar-basins, no-handled tea-cups, a tea-pot like a pagoda, and a +cream-jug in the form of a spotted cow. This sociability in +their visitor was returned by Mrs. Garland and Anne; and Miss +Johnson’s pleasing habit of partly dying whenever she heard +any unusual bark or bellow added to her piquancy in their +eyes. But conversation, as such, was naturally at first of +a nervous, tentative kind, in which, as in the works of some +minor poets, the sense was considerably led by the sound.</p> +<p>‘You get the sea-breezes here, no doubt?’</p> +<p>‘O yes, dear; when the wind is that way.’</p> +<p>‘Do you like windy weather?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; though not now, for it blows down the young +apples.’</p> +<p>‘Apples are plentiful, it seems. You country-folk +call St. Swithin’s their christening day, if it +rains?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, dear. Ah me! I have not been to a +christening for these many years; the baby’s name was +George, I remember—after the King.’</p> +<p>‘I hear that King George is still staying at the town +here. I <i>hope</i> he’ll stay till I have seen +him!’</p> +<p>‘He’ll wait till the corn turns yellow; he always +does.’</p> +<p>‘How <i>very</i> fashionable yellow is getting for +gloves just now!’</p> +<p>‘Yes. Some persons wear them to the elbow, I +hear.’</p> +<p>‘Do they? I was not aware of that. I struck +my elbow last week so hard against the door of my aunt’s +mansion that I feel the ache now.’</p> +<p>Before they were quite overwhelmed by the interest of this +discourse, the miller and Bob came in. In truth, Mrs. +Garland found the office in which he had placed her—that of +introducing a strange woman to a house which was not the +widow’s own—a rather awkward one, and yet almost a +necessity. There was no woman belonging to the house except +that wondrous compendium of usefulness, the intermittent +maid-servant, whom Loveday had, for appearances, borrowed from +Mrs. Garland, and Mrs. Garland was in the habit of borrowing from +the girl’s mother. And as for the demi-woman David, +he had been informed as peremptorily as Pharaoh’s baker +that the office of housemaid and bedmaker was taken from him, and +would be given to this girl till the wedding was over, and +Bob’s wife took the management into her own hands.</p> +<p>They all sat down to high tea, Anne and her mother included, +and the captain sitting next to Miss Johnson. Anne had put +a brave face upon the matter—outwardly, at least—and +seemed in a fair way of subduing any lingering sentiment which +Bob’s return had revived. During the evening, and +while they still sat over the meal, John came down on a hurried +visit, as he had promised, ostensibly on purpose to be introduced +to his intended sister-in-law, but much more to get a word and a +smile from his beloved Anne. Before they saw him, they +heard the trumpet-major’s smart step coming round the +corner of the house, and in a moment his form darkened the +door. As it was Sunday, he appeared in his full-dress laced +coat, white waistcoat and breeches, and towering plume, the +latter of which he instantly lowered, as much from necessity as +good manners, the beam in the mill-house ceiling having a +tendency to smash and ruin all such head-gear without +warning.</p> +<p>‘John, we’ve been hoping you would come +down,’ said the miller, ‘and so we have kept the tay +about on purpose. Draw up, and speak to Mrs. Matilda +Johnson. . . . Ma’am, this is Robert’s +brother.’</p> +<p>‘Your humble servant, ma’am,’ said the +trumpet-major gallantly.</p> +<p>As it was getting dusk in the low, small-paned room, he +instinctively moved towards Miss Johnson as he spoke, who sat +with her back to the window. He had no sooner noticed her +features than his helmet nearly fell from his hand; his face +became suddenly fixed, and his natural complexion took itself +off, leaving a greenish yellow in its stead. The young +person, on her part, had no sooner looked closely at him than she +said weakly, ‘Robert’s brother!’ and changed +colour yet more rapidly than the soldier had done. The +faintness, previously half counterfeit, seized on her now in real +earnest.</p> +<p>‘I don’t feel well,’ she said, suddenly +rising by an effort. ‘This warm day has quite upset +me!’</p> +<p>There was a regular collapse of the tea-party, like that of +the Hamlet play scene. Bob seized his sweetheart and +carried her upstairs, the miller exclaiming, ‘Ah, +she’s terribly worn by the journey! I thought she was +when I saw her nearly go off at the blare of the cow. No +woman would have been frightened at that if she’d been up +to her natural strength.’</p> +<p>‘That, and being so very shy of men, too, must have made +John’s handsome regimentals quite overpowering to her, poor +thing,’ added Mrs. Garland, following the catastrophic +young lady upstairs, whose indisposition was this time beyond +question. And yet, by some perversity of the heart, she was +as eager now to make light of her faintness as she had been to +make much of it two or three hours ago.</p> +<p>The miller and John stood like straight sticks in the room the +others had quitted, John’s face being hastily turned +towards a caricature of Buonaparte on the wall that he had not +seen more than a hundred and fifty times before.</p> +<p>‘Come, sit down and have a dish of tea, anyhow,’ +said his father at last. ‘She’ll soon be right +again, no doubt.’</p> +<p>‘Thanks; I don’t want any tea,’ said John +quickly. And, indeed, he did not, for he was in one +gigantic ache from head to foot.</p> +<p>The light had been too dim for anybody to notice his +amazement; and not knowing where to vent it, the trumpet-major +said he was going out for a minute. He hastened to the +bakehouse; but David being there, he went to the pantry; but the +maid being there, he went to the cart-shed; but a couple of +tramps being there, he went behind a row of French beans in the +garden, where he let off an ejaculation the most pious that he +had uttered that Sabbath day: ‘Heaven! what’s to be +done!’</p> +<p>And then he walked wildly about the paths of the dusky garden, +where the trickling of the brooks seemed loud by comparison with +the stillness around; treading recklessly on the cracking snails +that had come forth to feed, and entangling his spurs in the long +grass till the rowels were choked with its blades. +Presently he heard another person approaching, and his +brother’s shape appeared between the stubbard tree and the +hedge.</p> +<p>‘O, is it you?’ said the mate.</p> +<p>‘Yes. I am—taking a little air.’</p> +<p>‘She is getting round nicely again; and as I am not +wanted indoors just now, I am going into the village to call upon +a friend or two I have not been able to speak to as +yet.’</p> +<p>John took his brother Bob’s hand. Bob rather +wondered why.</p> +<p>‘All right, old boy,’ he said. ‘Going +into the village? You’ll be back again, I suppose, +before it gets very late?’</p> +<p>‘O yes,’ said Captain Bob cheerfully, and passed +out of the garden.</p> +<p>John allowed his eyes to follow his brother till his shape +could not be seen, and then he turned and again walked up and +down.</p> +<h2>XVIII. THE NIGHT AFTER THE ARRIVAL</h2> +<p>John continued his sad and heavy pace till walking seemed too +old and worn-out a way of showing sorrow so new, and he leant +himself against the fork of an apple-tree like a log. There +the trumpet-major remained for a considerable time, his face +turned towards the house, whose ancient, many-chimneyed outline +rose against the darkened sky, and just shut out from his view +the camp above. But faint noises coming thence from horses +restless at the pickets, and from visitors taking their leave, +recalled its existence, and reminded him that, in consequence of +Matilda’s arrival, he had obtained leave for the +night—a fact which, owing to the startling emotions that +followed his entry, he had not yet mentioned to his friends.</p> +<p>While abstractedly considering how he could best use that +privilege under the new circumstances which had arisen, he heard +Farmer Derriman drive up to the front door and hold a +conversation with his father. The old man had at last +apparently brought the tin box of private papers that he wished +the miller to take charge of during Derriman’s absence; and +it being a calm night, John could hear, though he little heeded, +Uncle Benjy’s reiterated supplications to Loveday to keep +it safe from fire and thieves. Then Uncle Benjy left, and +John’s father went upstairs to deposit the box in a place +of security, the whole proceeding reaching John’s +preoccupied comprehension merely as voices during sleep.</p> +<p>The next thing was the appearance of a light in the bedroom +which had been assigned to Matilda Johnson. This +effectually aroused the trumpet-major, and with a stealthiness +unusual in him he went indoors. No light was in the lower +rooms, his father, Mrs. Garland, and Anne having gone out on the +bridge to look at the new moon. John went upstairs on +tip-toe, and along the uneven passage till he came to her +door. It was standing ajar, a band of candlelight shining +across the passage and up the opposite wall. As soon as he +entered the radiance he saw her. She was standing before +the looking-glass, apparently lost in thought, her fingers being +clasped behind her head in abstraction, and the light falling +full upon her face.</p> +<p>‘I must speak to you,’ said the trumpet-major.</p> +<p>She started, turned and grew paler than before; and then, as +if moved by a sudden impulse, she swung the door wide open, and, +coming out, said quite collectedly and with apparent +pleasantness, ‘O yes; you are my Bob’s brother! +I didn’t, for a moment, recognize you.’</p> +<p>‘But you do now?’</p> +<p>‘As Bob’s brother.’</p> +<p>‘You have not seen me before?’</p> +<p>‘I have not,’ she answered, with a face as +impassible as Talleyrand’s.</p> +<p>‘Good God!’</p> +<p>‘I have not!’ she repeated.</p> +<p>‘Nor any of the --th Dragoons? Captain Jolly, for +instance?’</p> +<p>‘No.’</p> +<p>‘You mistake. I’ll remind you of +particulars,’ he said drily. And he did remind her at +some length.</p> +<p>‘Never!’ she said desperately.</p> +<p>But she had miscalculated her staying powers, and her +adversary’s character. Five minutes after that she +was in tears, and the conversation had resolved itself into +words, which, on the soldier’s part, were of the nature of +commands, tempered by pity, and were a mere series of entreaties +on hers.</p> +<p>The whole scene did not last ten minutes. When it was +over, the trumpet-major walked from the doorway where they had +been standing, and brushed moisture from his eyes. Reaching +a dark lumber-room, he stood still there to calm himself, and +then descended by a Flemish-ladder to the bakehouse, instead of +by the front stairs. He found that the others, including +Bob, had gathered in the parlour during his absence and lighted +the candles.</p> +<p>Miss Johnson, having sent down some time before John +re-entered the house to say that she would prefer to keep her +room that evening, was not expected to join them, and on this +account Bob showed less than his customary liveliness. The +miller wishing to keep up his son’s spirits, expressed his +regret that, it being Sunday night, they could have no songs to +make the evening cheerful; when Mrs. Garland proposed that they +should sing psalms which, by choosing lively tunes and not +thinking of the words, would be almost as good as ballads.</p> +<p>This they did, the trumpet-major appearing to join in with the +rest; but as a matter of fact no sound came from his moving +lips. His mind was in such a state that he derived no +pleasure even from Anne Garland’s presence, though he held +a corner of the same book with her, and was treated in a winsome +way which it was not her usual practice to indulge in. She +saw that his mind was clouded, and, far from guessing the reason +why, was doing her best to clear it.</p> +<p>At length the Garlands found that it was the hour for them to +leave, and John Loveday at the same time wished his father and +Bob good-night, and went as far as Mrs. Garland’s door with +her.</p> +<p>He had said not a word to show that he was free to remain out +of camp, for the reason that there was painful work to be done, +which it would be best to do in secret and alone. He +lingered near the house till its reflected window-lights ceased +to glimmer upon the mill-pond, and all within the dwelling was +dark and still. Then he entered the garden and waited there +till the back door opened, and a woman’s figure timorously +came forward. John Loveday at once went up to her, and they +began to talk in low yet dissentient tones.</p> +<p>They had conversed about ten minutes, and were parting as if +they had come to some painful arrangement, Miss Johnson sobbing +bitterly, when a head stealthily arose above the dense hedgerow, +and in a moment a shout burst from its owner.</p> +<p>‘Thieves! thieves!—my tin box!—thieves! +thieves!’</p> +<p>Matilda vanished into the house, and John Loveday hastened to +the hedge. ‘For heaven’s sake, hold your +tongue, Mr. Derriman!’ he exclaimed.</p> +<p>‘My tin box!’ said Uncle Benjy. ‘O, +only the trumpet-major!’</p> +<p>‘Your box is safe enough, I assure you. It was +only’—here the trumpet-major gave vent to an +artificial laugh—‘only a sly bit of courting, you +know.’</p> +<p>‘Ha, ha, I see!’ said the relieved old +squireen. ‘Courting Miss Anne! Then +you’ve ousted my nephew, trumpet-major! Well, so much +the better. As for myself, the truth on’t is that I +haven’t been able to go to bed easy, for thinking that +possibly your father might not take care of what I put under his +charge; and at last I thought I would just step over and see if +all was safe here before I turned in. And when I saw your +two shapes my poor nerves magnified ye to housebreakers, and +Boneys, and I don’t know what all.’</p> +<p>‘You have alarmed the house,’ said the +trumpet-major, hearing the clicking of flint and steel in his +father’s bedroom, followed in a moment by the rise of a +light in the window of the same apartment. ‘You have +got me into difficulty,’ he added gloomily, as his father +opened the casement.</p> +<p>‘I am sorry for that,’ said Uncle Benjy. +‘But step back; I’ll put it all right +again.’</p> +<p>‘What, for heaven’s sake, is the matter?’ +said the miller, his tasselled nightcap appearing in the +opening.</p> +<p>‘Nothing, nothing!’ said the farmer. +‘I was uneasy about my few bonds and documents, and I +walked this way, miller, before going to bed, as I start from +home to-morrow morning. When I came down by your +garden-hedge, I thought I saw thieves, but it turned out to +be—to be—’</p> +<p>Here a lump of earth from the trumpet-major’s hand +struck Uncle Benjy in the back as a reminder.</p> +<p>‘To be—the bough of a cherry-tree a-waving in the +wind. Good-night.’</p> +<p>‘No thieves are like to try my house,’ said Miller +Loveday. ‘Now don’t you come alarming us like +this again, farmer, or you shall keep your box yourself, begging +your pardon for saying so. Good-night t’ +ye!’</p> +<p>‘Miller, will ye just look, since I am here—just +look and see if the box is all right? there’s a good +man! I am old, you know, and my poor remains are not what +my original self was. Look and see if it is where you put +it, there’s a good, kind man.’</p> +<p>‘Very well,’ said the miller good-humouredly.</p> +<p>‘Neighbour Loveday! on second thoughts I will take my +box home again, after all, if you don’t mind. You +won’t deem it ill of me? I have no suspicion, of +course; but now I think on’t there’s rivalry between +my nephew and your son; and if Festus should take it into his +head to set your house on fire in his enmity, ’twould be +bad for my deeds and documents. No offence, miller, but +I’ll take the box, if you don’t mind.’</p> +<p>‘Faith! I don’t mind,’ said Loveday. +‘But your nephew had better think twice before he lets his +enmity take that colour.’ Receding from the window, +he took the candle to a back part of the room and soon reappeared +with the tin box.</p> +<p>‘I won’t trouble ye to dress,’ said Derriman +considerately; ‘let en down by anything you have at +hand.’</p> +<p>The box was lowered by a cord, and the old man clasped it in +his arms. ‘Thank ye!’ he said with heartfelt +gratitude. ‘Good-night!’</p> +<p>The miller replied and closed the window, and the light went +out.</p> +<p>‘There, now I hope you are satisfied, sir?’ said +the trumpet-major.</p> +<p>‘Quite, quite!’ said Derriman; and, leaning on his +walking-stick, he pursued his lonely way.</p> +<p>That night Anne lay awake in her bed, musing on the traits of +the new friend who had come to her neighbour’s house. +She would not be critical, it was ungenerous and wrong; but she +could not help thinking of what interested her. And were +there, she silently asked, in Miss Johnson’s mind and +person such rare qualities as placed that lady altogether beyond +comparison with herself? O yes, there must be; for had not +Captain Bob singled out Matilda from among all other women, +herself included? Of course, with his world-wide +experience, he knew best.</p> +<p>When the moon had set, and only the summer stars threw their +light into the great damp garden, she fancied that she heard +voices in that direction. Perhaps they were the voices of +Bob and Matilda taking a lover’s walk before +retiring. If so, how sleepy they would be next day, and how +absurd it was of Matilda to pretend she was tired! +Ruminating in this way, and saying to herself that she hoped they +would be happy, Anne fell asleep.</p> +<h2>XIX. MISS JOHNSON’S BEHAVIOUR CAUSES NO LITTLE +SURPRISE</h2> +<p>Partly from the excitement of having his Matilda under the +paternal roof, Bob rose next morning as early as his father and +the grinder, and, when the big wheel began to patter and the +little ones to mumble in response, went to sun himself outside +the mill-front, among the fowls of brown and speckled kinds which +haunted that spot, and the ducks that came up from the +mill-tail.</p> +<p>Standing on the worn-out mill-stone inlaid in the gravel, he +talked with his father on various improvements of the premises, +and on the proposed arrangements for his permanent residence +there, with an enjoyment that was half based upon this prospect +of the future, and half on the penetrating warmth of the sun to +his back and shoulders. Then the different troops of horses +began their morning scramble down to the mill-pond, and, after +making it very muddy round the edge, ascended the slope +again. The bustle of the camp grew more and more audible, +and presently David came to say that breakfast was ready.</p> +<p>‘Is Miss Johnson downstairs?’ said the miller; and +Bob listened for the answer, looking at a blue sentinel aloft on +the down.</p> +<p>‘Not yet, maister,’ said the excellent David.</p> +<p>‘We’ll wait till she’s down,’ said +Loveday. ‘When she is, let us know.’</p> +<p>David went indoors again, and Loveday and Bob continued their +morning survey by ascending into the mysterious quivering +recesses of the mill, and holding a discussion over a second pair +of burr-stones, which had to be re-dressed before they could be +used again. This and similar things occupied nearly twenty +minutes, and, looking from the window, the elder of the two was +reminded of the time of day by seeing Mrs. Garland’s +table-cloth fluttering from her back door over the heads of a +flock of pigeons that had alighted for the crumbs.</p> +<p>‘I suppose David can’t find us,’ he said, +with a sense of hunger that was not altogether strange to +Bob. He put out his head and shouted.</p> +<p>‘The lady is not down yet,’ said his man in +reply.</p> +<p>‘No hurry, no hurry,’ said the miller, with +cheerful emptiness. ‘Bob, to pass the time +we’ll look into the garden.’</p> +<p>‘She’ll get up sooner than this, you know, when +she’s signed articles and got a berth here,’ Bob +observed apologetically.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ said Loveday; and they descended into +the garden.</p> +<p>Here they turned over sundry flat stones and killed the slugs +sheltered beneath them from the coming heat of the day, talking +of slugs in all their branches—of the brown and the black, +of the tough and the tender, of the reason why there were so many +in the garden that year, of the coming time when the grass-walks +harbouring them were to be taken up and gravel laid, and of the +relatively exterminatory merits of a pair of scissors and the +heel of the shoe. At last the miller said, ‘Well, +really, Bob, I’m hungry; we must begin without +her.’</p> +<p>They were about to go in, when David appeared with haste in +his motions, his eyes wider vertically than crosswise, and his +cheeks nearly all gone.</p> +<p>‘Maister, I’ve been to call her; and as ‘a +didn’t speak I rapped, and as ‘a didn’t answer +I kicked, and not being latched the door opened, +and—she’s gone!’</p> +<p>Bob went off like a swallow towards the house, and the miller +followed like the rather heavy man that he was. That Miss +Matilda was not in her room, or a scrap of anything belonging to +her, was soon apparent. They searched every place in which +she could possibly hide or squeeze herself, every place in which +she could not, but found nothing at all.</p> +<p>Captain Bob was quite wild with astonishment and grief. +When he was quite sure that she was nowhere in his father’s +house, he ran into Mrs. Garland’s, and telling them the +story so hastily that they hardly understood the particulars, he +went on towards Comfort’s house, intending to raise the +alarm there, and also at Mitchell’s, Beach’s, +Cripplestraw’s, the parson’s, the clerk’s, the +camp of dragoons, of hussars, and so on through the whole +county. But he paused, and thought it would be hardly +expedient to publish his discomfiture in such a way. If +Matilda had left the house for any freakish reason he would not +care to look for her, and if her deed had a tragic intent she +would keep aloof from camp and village.</p> +<p>In his trouble he thought of Anne. She was a nice girl +and could be trusted. To her he went, and found her in a +state of excitement and anxiety which equalled his own.</p> +<p>‘’Tis so lonely to cruise for her all by +myself!’ said Bob disconsolately, his forehead all in +wrinkles, ‘and I’ve thought you would come with me +and cheer the way?’</p> +<p>‘Where shall we search?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘O, in the holes of rivers, you know, and down wells, +and in quarries, and over cliffs, and like that. Your eyes +might catch the loom of any bit of a shawl or bonnet that I +should overlook, and it would do me a real service. Please +do come!’</p> +<p>So Anne took pity upon him, and put on her hat and went, the +miller and David having gone off in another direction. They +examined the ditches of fields, Bob going round by one fence and +Anne by the other, till they met at the opposite side. Then +they peeped under culverts, into outhouses, and down old wells +and quarries, till the theory of a tragical end had nearly spent +its force in Bob’s mind, and he began to think that Matilda +had simply run away. However, they still walked on, though +by this time the sun was hot and Anne would gladly have sat +down.</p> +<p>‘Now, didn’t you think highly of her, Miss +Garland?’ he inquired, as the search began to languish.</p> +<p>‘O yes,’ said Anne, ‘very highly.’</p> +<p>‘She was really beautiful; no nonsense about her looks, +was there?’</p> +<p>‘None. Her beauty was thoroughly ripe—not +too young. We should all have got to love her. What +can have possessed her to go away?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know, and, upon my life, I shall soon be +drove to say I don’t care!’ replied the mate +despairingly. ‘Let me pilot ye down over those +stones,’ he added, as Anne began to descend a rugged +quarry. He stepped forward, leapt down, and turned to +her.</p> +<p>She gave him her hand and sprang down. Before he +relinquished his hold, Captain Bob raised her fingers to his lips +and kissed them.</p> +<p>‘O, Captain Loveday!’ cried Anne, snatching away +her hand in genuine dismay, while a tear rose unexpectedly to +each eye. ‘I never heard of such a thing! I +won’t go an inch further with you, sir; it is too +barefaced!’ And she turned and ran off.</p> +<p>‘Upon my life I didn’t mean it!’ said the +repentant captain, hastening after. ‘I do love her +best—indeed I do—and I don’t love you at +all! I am not so fickle as that! I merely just for +the moment admired you as a sweet little craft, and that’s +how I came to do it. You know, Miss Garland,’ he +continued earnestly, and still running after, ‘’tis +like this: when you come ashore after having been shut up in a +ship for eighteen months, women-folks seem so new and nice that +you can’t help liking them, one and all in a body; and so +your heart is apt to get scattered and to yaw a bit; but of +course I think of poor Matilda most, and shall always stick to +her.’ He heaved a sigh of tremendous magnitude, to +show beyond the possibility of doubt that his heart was still in +the place that honour required.</p> +<p>‘I am glad to hear that—of course I am very +glad!’ said she, with quick petulance, keeping her face +turned from him. ‘And I hope we shall find her, and +that the wedding will not be put off, and that you’ll both +be happy. But I won’t look for her any more! +No; I don’t care to look for her—and my head +aches. I am going home!’</p> +<p>‘And so am I,’ said Robert promptly.</p> +<p>‘No, no; go on looking for her, of course—all the +afternoon, and all night. I am sure you will, if you love +her.’</p> +<p>‘O yes; I mean to. Still, I ought to convoy you +home first?’</p> +<p>‘No, you ought not; and I shall not accept your +company. Good-morning, sir!’ And she went off +over one of the stone stiles with which the spot abounded, +leaving the friendly sailor standing in the field.</p> +<p>He sighed again, and, observing the camp not far off, thought +he would go to his brother John and ask him his opinion on the +sorrowful case. On reaching the tents he found that John +was not at liberty just at that time, being engaged in practising +the trumpeters; and leaving word that he wished the trumpet-major +to come down to the mill as soon as possible, Bob went back +again.</p> +<p>‘’Tis no good looking for her,’ he said +gloomily. ‘She liked me well enough, but when she +came here and saw the house, and the place, and the old horse, +and the plain furniture, she was disappointed to find us all so +homely, and felt she didn’t care to marry into such a +family!’</p> +<p>His father and David had returned with no news.</p> +<p>‘Yes, ’tis as I’ve been thinking, +father,’ Bob said. ‘We weren’t good +enough for her, and she went away in scorn!’</p> +<p>‘Well, that can’t be helped,’ said the +miller. ‘What we be, we be, and have been for +generations. To my mind she seemed glad enough to get hold +of us!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes—for the moment—because of the +flowers, and birds, and what’s pretty in the place,’ +said Bob tragically. ‘But you don’t know, +father—how should you know, who have hardly been out of +Overcombe in your life?—you don’t know what delicate +feelings are in a real refined woman’s mind. Any +little vulgar action unreaves their nerves like a +marline-spike. Now I wonder if you did anything to disgust +her?’</p> +<p>‘Faith! not that I know of,’ said Loveday, +reflecting. ‘I didn’t say a single thing that I +should naturally have said, on purpose to give no +offence.’</p> +<p>‘You was always very homely, you know, +father.’</p> +<p>‘Yes; so I was,’ said the miller meekly.</p> +<p>‘I wonder what it could have been,’ Bob continued, +wandering about restlessly. ‘You didn’t go +drinking out of the big mug with your mouth full, or wipe your +lips with your sleeve?’</p> +<p>‘That I’ll swear I didn’t!’ said the +miller firmly. ‘Thinks I, there’s no knowing +what I may do to shock her, so I’ll take my solid victuals +in the bakehouse, and only a crumb and a drop in her company for +manners.’</p> +<p>‘You could do no more than that, certainly,’ said +Bob gently.</p> +<p>‘If my manners be good enough for well-brought-up people +like the Garlands, they be good enough for her,’ continued +the miller, with a sense of injustice.</p> +<p>‘That’s true. Then it must have been +David. David, come here! How did you behave before +that lady? Now, mind you speak the truth!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, Mr. Captain Robert,’ said David +earnestly. ‘I assure ye she was served like a royal +queen. The best silver spoons wez put down, and yer poor +grandfer’s silver tanket, as you seed, and the feather +cushion for her to sit on—’</p> +<p>‘Now I’ve got it!’ said Bob decisively, +bringing down his hand upon the window-sill. ‘Her bed +was hard!—and there’s nothing shocks a true lady like +that. The bed in that room always was as hard as the Rock +of Gibraltar!’</p> +<p>‘No, Captain Bob! The beds were +changed—wasn’t they maister? We put the goose +bed in her room, and the flock one, that used to be there, in +yours.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, we did,’ corroborated the miller. +‘David and I changed ’em with our own hands, because +they were too heavy for the women to move.’</p> +<p>‘Sure I didn’t know I had the flock bed,’ +murmured Bob. ‘I slept on, little thinking what I was +going to wake to. Well, well, she’s gone; and search +as I will I shall never find another like her! She was too +good for me. She must have carried her box with her own +hands, poor girl. As far as that goes, I could overtake her +even now, I dare say; but I won’t entreat her against her +will—not I.’</p> +<p>Miller Loveday and David, feeling themselves to be rather a +desecration in the presence of Bob’s sacred emotions, +managed to edge off by degrees, the former burying himself in the +most floury recesses of the mill, his invariable resource when +perturbed, the rumbling having a soothing effect upon the nerves +of those properly trained to its music.</p> +<p>Bob was so impatient that, after going up to her room to +assure himself once more that she had not undressed, but had only +lain down on the outside of the bed, he went out of the house to +meet John, and waited on the sunny slope of the down till his +brother appeared. John looked so brave and shapely and +warlike that, even in Bob’s present distress, he could not +but feel an honest and affectionate pride at owning such a +relative. Yet he fancied that John did not come along with +the same swinging step he had shown yesterday; and when the +trumpet-major got nearer he looked anxiously at the mate and +waited for him to speak first.</p> +<p>‘You know our great trouble, John?’ said Robert, +gazing stoically into his brother’s eyes.</p> +<p>‘Come and sit down, and tell me all about it,’ +answered the trumpet-major, showing no surprise.</p> +<p>They went towards a slight ravine, where it was easier to sit +down than on the flat ground, and here John reclined among the +grasshoppers, pointing to his brother to do the same.</p> +<p>‘But do you know what it is?’ said Robert. +‘Has anybody told ye?’</p> +<p>‘I do know,’ said John. ‘She’s +gone; and I am thankful!’</p> +<p>‘What!’ said Bob, rising to his knees in +amazement.</p> +<p>‘I’m at the bottom of it,’ said the +trumpet-major slowly.</p> +<p>‘You, John?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; and if you will listen I’ll tell you +all. Do you remember what happened when I came into the +room last night? Why, she turned colour and nearly fainted +away. That was because she knew me.’</p> +<p>Bob stared at his brother with a face of pain and +distrust.</p> +<p>‘For once, Bob, I must say something that will hurt thee +a good deal,’ continued John. ‘She was not a +woman who could possibly be your wife—and so she’s +gone.’</p> +<p>‘You sent her off?’</p> +<p>‘Well, I did.’</p> +<p>‘John!—Tell me right through—tell +me!’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps I had better,’ said the trumpet-major, +his blue eyes resting on the far distant sea, that seemed to rise +like a wall as high as the hill they sat upon.</p> +<p>And then he told a tale of Miss Johnson and the --th Dragoons +which wrung his heart as much in the telling as it did +Bob’s to hear, and which showed that John had been +temporarily cruel to be ultimately kind. Even Bob, excited +as he was, could discern from John’s manner of speaking +what a terrible undertaking that night’s business had been +for him. To justify the course he had adopted the dictates +of duty must have been imperative; but the trumpet-major, with a +becoming reticence which his brother at the time was naturally +unable to appreciate, scarcely dwelt distinctly enough upon the +compelling cause of his conduct. It would, indeed, have +been hard for any man, much less so modest a one as John, to do +himself justice in that remarkable relation, when the listener +was the lady’s lover; and it is no wonder that Robert rose +to his feet and put a greater distance between himself and +John.</p> +<p>‘And what time was it?’ he asked in a hard, +suppressed voice.</p> +<p>‘It was just before one o’clock.’</p> +<p>‘How could you help her to go away?’</p> +<p>‘I had a pass. I carried her box to the +coach-office. She was to follow at dawn.’</p> +<p>‘But she had no money.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, she had; I took particular care of +that.’ John did not add, as he might have done, that +he had given her, in his pity, all the money he possessed, and at +present had only eighteen-pence in the world. ‘Well, +it is over, Bob; so sit ye down, and talk with me of old +times,’ he added.</p> +<p>‘Ah, Jack, it is well enough for you to speak like +that,’ said the disquieted sailor; ‘but I can’t +help feeling that it is a cruel thing you have done. After +all, she would have been snug enough for me. Would I had +never found out this about her! John, why did you +interfere? You had no right to overhaul my affairs like +this. Why didn’t you tell me fairly all you knew, and +let me do as I chose? You have turned her out of the house, +and it’s a shame! If she had only come to me! +Why didn’t she?’</p> +<p>‘Because she knew it was best to do +otherwise.’</p> +<p>‘Well, I shall go after her,’ said Bob firmly.</p> +<p>‘You can do as you like,’ said John; ‘but I +would advise you strongly to leave matters where they +are.’</p> +<p>‘I won’t leave matters where they are,’ said +Bob impetuously. ‘You have made me miserable, and all +for nothing. I tell you she was good enough for me; and as +long as I knew nothing about what you say of her history, what +difference would it have made to me? Never was there a +young woman who was better company; and she loved a merry song as +I do myself. Yes, I’ll follow her.’</p> +<p>‘O, Bob,’ said John; ‘I hardly expected +this!’</p> +<p>‘That’s because you didn’t know your +man. Can I ask you to do me one kindness? I +don’t suppose I can. Can I ask you not to say a word +against her to any of them at home?’</p> +<p>‘Certainly. The very reason why I got her to go +off silently, as she has done, was because nothing should be said +against her here, and no scandal should be heard of.’</p> +<p>‘That may be; but I’m off after her. Marry +that girl I will.’</p> +<p>‘You’ll be sorry.’</p> +<p>‘That we shall see,’ replied Robert with +determination; and he went away rapidly towards the mill. +The trumpet-major had no heart to follow—no good could +possibly come of further opposition; and there on the down he +remained like a graven image till Bob had vanished from his sight +into the mill.</p> +<p>Bob entered his father’s only to leave word that he was +going on a renewed search for Matilda, and to pack up a few +necessaries for his journey. Ten minutes later he came out +again with a bundle in his hand, and John saw him go diagonally +across the lower fields towards the high-road.</p> +<p>‘And this is all the good I have done!’ said John, +musingly readjusting his stock where it cut his neck, and +descending towards the mill.</p> +<h2>XX. HOW THEY LESSENED THE EFFECT OF THE CALAMITY</h2> +<p>Meanwhile Anne Garland had gone home, and, being weary with +her ramble in search of Matilda, sat silent in a corner of the +room. Her mother was passing the time in giving utterance +to every conceivable surmise on the cause of Miss Johnson’s +disappearance that the human mind could frame, to which Anne +returned monosyllabic answers, the result, not of indifference, +but of intense preoccupation. Presently Loveday, the +father, came to the door; her mother vanished with him, and they +remained closeted together a long time. Anne went into the +garden and seated herself beneath the branching tree whose boughs +had sheltered her during so many hours of her residence +here. Her attention was fixed more upon the miller’s +wing of the irregular building before her than upon that occupied +by her mother, for she could not help expecting every moment to +see some one run out with a wild face and announce some awful +clearing up of the mystery.</p> +<p>Every sound set her on the alert, and hearing the tread of a +horse in the lane she looked round eagerly. Gazing at her +over the hedge was Festus Derriman, mounted on such an incredibly +tall animal that he could see to her very feet over the thick and +broad thorn fence. She no sooner recognized him than she +withdrew her glance; but as his eyes were fixed steadily upon her +this was a futile manoeuvre.</p> +<p>‘I saw you look round!’ he exclaimed +crossly. ‘What have I done to make you behave like +that? Come, Miss Garland, be fair. ’Tis no use +to turn your back upon me.’ As she did not turn he +went on—‘Well, now, this is enough to provoke a +saint. Now I tell you what, Miss Garland; here I’ll +stay till you do turn round, if ’tis all the +afternoon. You know my temper—what I say I +mean.’ He seated himself firmly in the saddle, +plucked some leaves from the hedge, and began humming a song, to +show how absolutely indifferent he was to the flight of time.</p> +<p>‘What have you come for, that you are so anxious to see +me?’ inquired Anne, when at last he had wearied her +patience, rising and facing him with the added independence which +came from a sense of the hedge between them.</p> +<p>‘There, I knew you would turn round!’ he said, his +hot angry face invaded by a smile in which his teeth showed like +white hemmed in by red at chess.</p> +<p>‘What do you want, Mr. Derriman?’ said she.</p> +<p>‘“What do you want, Mr. Derriman?”—now +listen to that! Is that my encouragement?’</p> +<p>Anne bowed superciliously, and moved away.</p> +<p>‘I have just heard news that explains all that,’ +said the giant, eyeing her movements with somnolent +irascibility. ‘My uncle has been letting things +out. He was here late last night, and he saw +you.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed he didn’t,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘O, now! He saw Trumpet-major Loveday courting +somebody like you in that garden walk; and when he came you ran +indoors.’</p> +<p>‘It is not true, and I wish to hear no more.’</p> +<p>‘Upon my life, he said so! How can you do it, Miss +Garland, when I, who have enough money to buy up all the +Lovedays, would gladly come to terms with ye? What a +simpleton you must be, to pass me over for him! There, now +you are angry because I said simpleton!—I didn’t mean +simpleton, I meant misguided—misguided rosebud! +That’s it—run off,’ he continued in a raised +voice, as Anne made towards the garden door. ‘But +I’ll have you yet. Much reason you have to be too +proud to stay with me. But it won’t last long; I +shall marry you, madam, if I choose, as you’ll +see.’</p> +<p>When he was quite gone, and Anne had calmed down from the not +altogether unrelished fear and excitement that he always caused +her, she returned to her seat under the tree, and began to wonder +what Festus Derriman’s story meant, which, from the +earnestness of his tone, did not seem like a pure +invention. It suddenly flashed upon her mind that she +herself had heard voices in the garden, and that the persons seen +by Farmer Derriman, of whose visit and reclamation of his box the +miller had told her, might have been Matilda and John +Loveday. She further recalled the strange agitation of Miss +Johnson on the preceding evening, and that it occurred just at +the entry of the dragoon, till by degrees suspicion amounted to +conviction that he knew more than any one else supposed of that +lady’s disappearance.</p> +<p>It was just at this time that the trumpet-major descended to +the mill after his talk with his brother on the down. As +fate would have it, instead of entering the house he turned aside +to the garden and walked down that pleasant enclosure, to learn +if he were likely to find in the other half of it the woman he +loved so well.</p> +<p>Yes, there she was, sitting on the seat of logs that he had +repaired for her, under the apple-tree; but she was not facing in +his direction. He walked with a noisier tread, he coughed, +he shook a bough, he did everything, in short, but the one thing +that Festus did in the same circumstances—call out to +her. He would not have ventured on that for the +world. Any of his signs would have been sufficient to +attract her a day or two earlier; now she would not turn. +At last, in his fond anxiety, he did what he had never done +before without an invitation, and crossed over into Mrs. +Garland’s half of the garden, till he stood before her.</p> +<p>When she could not escape him she arose, and, saying +‘Good afternoon, trumpet-major,’ in a glacial manner +unusual with her, walked away to another part of the garden.</p> +<p>Loveday, quite at a loss, had not the strength of mind to +persevere further. He had a vague apprehension that some +imperfect knowledge of the previous night’s unhappy +business had reached her; and, unable to remedy the evil without +telling more than he dared, he went into the mill, where his +father still was, looking doleful enough, what with his concern +at events and the extra quantity of flour upon his face through +sticking so closely to business that day.</p> +<p>‘Well, John; Bob has told you all, of course? A +queer, strange, perplexing thing, isn’t it? I +can’t make it out at all. There must be something +wrong in the woman, or it couldn’t have happened. I +haven’t been so upset for years.’</p> +<p>‘Nor have I. I wouldn’t it should have +happened for all I own in the world,’ said the +dragoon. ‘Have you spoke to Anne Garland +to-day—or has anybody been talking to her?’</p> +<p>‘Festus Derriman rode by half-an-hour ago, and talked to +her over the hedge.’</p> +<p>John guessed the rest, and, after standing on the threshold in +silence awhile, walked away towards the camp.</p> +<p>All this time his brother Robert had been hastening along in +pursuit of the woman who had withdrawn from the scene to avoid +the exposure and complete overthrow which would have resulted had +she remained. As the distance lengthened between himself +and the mill, Bob was conscious of some cooling down of the +excitement that had prompted him to set out; but he did not pause +in his walk till he had reached the head of the river which fed +the mill-stream. Here, for some indefinite reason, he +allowed his eyes to be attracted by the bubbling spring whose +waters never failed or lessened, and he stopped as if to look +longer at the scene; it was really because his mind was so +absorbed by John’s story.</p> +<p>The sun was warm, the spot was a pleasant one, and he +deposited his bundle and sat down. By degrees, as he +reflected, first on John’s view and then on his own, his +convictions became unsettled; till at length he was so balanced +between the impulse to go on and the impulse to go back, that a +puff of wind either way would have been well-nigh sufficient to +decide for him. When he allowed John’s story to +repeat itself in his ears, the reasonableness and good sense of +his advice seemed beyond question. When, on the other hand, +he thought of his poor Matilda’s eyes, and her, to him, +pleasant ways, their charming arrangements to marry, and her +probable willingness still, he could hardly bring himself to do +otherwise than follow on the road at the top of his speed.</p> +<p>This strife of thought was so well maintained that sitting and +standing, he remained on the borders of the spring till the +shadows had stretched out eastwards, and the chance of overtaking +Matilda had grown considerably less. Still he did not +positively go towards home. At last he took a guinea from +his pocket, and resolved to put the question to the hazard. +‘Heads I go; tails I don’t.’ The piece of +gold spun in the air and came down heads.</p> +<p>‘No, I won’t go, after all,’ he said. +‘I won’t be steered by accidents any more.’</p> +<p>He picked up his bundle and switch, and retraced his steps +towards Overcombe Mill, knocking down the brambles and nettles as +he went with gloomy and indifferent blows. When he got +within sight of the house he beheld David in the road.</p> +<p>‘All right—all right again, captain!’, +shouted that retainer. ‘A wedding after all! +Hurrah!’</p> +<p>‘Ah—she’s back again?’ cried Bob, +seizing David, ecstatically, and dancing round with him.</p> +<p>‘No—but it’s all the same! it is of no +consequence at all, and no harm will be done! Maister and +Mrs. Garland have made up a match, and mean to marry at once, +that the wedding victuals may not be wasted! They felt +’twould be a thousand pities to let such good things get +blue-vinnied for want of a ceremony to use ’em upon, and at +last they have thought of this.’</p> +<p>‘Victuals—I don’t care for the +victuals!’ bitterly cried Bob, in a tone of far higher +thought. ‘How you disappoint me!’ and he went +slowly towards the house.</p> +<p>His father appeared in the opening of the mill-door, looking +more cheerful than when they had parted. ‘What, +Robert, you’ve been after her?’ he said. +‘Faith, then, I wouldn’t have followed her if I had +been as sure as you were that she went away in scorn of us. +Since you told me that, I have not looked for her at +all.’</p> +<p>‘I was wrong, father,’ Bob replied gravely, +throwing down his bundle and stick. ‘Matilda, I find, +has not gone away in scorn of us; she has gone away for other +reasons. I followed her some way; but I have come back +again. She may go.’</p> +<p>‘Why is she gone?’ said the astonished miller.</p> +<p>Bob had intended, for Matilda’s sake, to give no reason +to a living soul for her departure. But he could not treat +his father thus reservedly; and he told.</p> +<p>‘She has made great fools of us,’ said the miller +deliberately; ‘and she might have made us greater +ones. Bob, I thought th’ hadst more sense.’</p> +<p>‘Well, don’t say anything against her, +father,’ implored Bob. ‘’Twas a sorry +haul, and there’s an end on’t. Let her down +quietly, and keep the secret. You promise that?’</p> +<p>‘I do.’ Loveday the elder remained thinking +awhile, and then went on—‘Well, what I was going to +say is this: I’ve hit upon a plan to get out of the awkward +corner she has put us in. What you’ll think of it I +can’t say.’</p> +<p>‘David has just given me the heads.’</p> +<p>‘And do it hurt your feelings, my son, at such a +time?’</p> +<p>‘No—I’ll bring myself to bear it, +anyhow! Why should I object to other people’s +happiness because I have lost my own?’ said Bob, with +saintly self-sacrifice in his air.</p> +<p>‘Well said!’ answered the miller heartily. +‘But you may be sure that there will be no unseemly +rejoicing, to disturb ye in your present frame of mind. All +the morning I felt more ashamed than I cared to own at the +thought of how the neighbours, great and small, would laugh at +what they would call your folly, when they knew what had +happened; so I resolved to take this step to stave it off, if so +be ’twas possible. And when I saw Mrs. Garland I knew +I had done right. She pitied me so much for having had the +house cleaned in vain, and laid in provisions to waste, that it +put her into the humour to agree. We mean to do it right +off at once, afore the pies and cakes get mouldy and the blackpot +stale. ’Twas a good thought of mine and hers, and I +am glad ’tis settled,’ he concluded cheerfully.</p> +<p>‘Poor Matilda!’ murmured Bob.</p> +<p>‘There—I was afraid ’twould hurt thy +feelings,’ said the miller, with self-reproach: +‘making preparations for thy wedding, and using them for my +own!’</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Bob heroically; ‘it shall +not. It will be a great comfort in my sorrow to feel that +the splendid grub, and the ale, and your stunning new suit of +clothes, and the great table-cloths you’ve bought, will be +just as useful now as if I had married myself. Poor +Matilda! But you won’t expect me to join in—you +hardly can. I can sheer off that day very easily, you +know.’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense, Bob!’ said the miller +reproachfully.</p> +<p>‘I couldn’t stand it—I should break +down.’</p> +<p>‘Deuce take me if I would have asked her, then, if I had +known ’twas going to drive thee out of the house! +Now, come, Bob, I’ll find a way of arranging it and +sobering it down, so that it shall be as melancholy as you can +require—in short, just like a funeral, if thou’lt +promise to stay?’</p> +<p>‘Very well,’ said the afflicted one. +‘On that condition I’ll stay.’</p> +<h2>XXI. ‘UPON THE HILL HE TURNED’</h2> +<p>Having entered into this solemn compact with his son, the +elder Loveday’s next action was to go to Mrs. Garland, and +ask her how the toning down of the wedding had best be +done. ‘It is plain enough that to make merry just now +would be slighting Bob’s feelings, as if we didn’t +care who was not married, so long as we were,’ he +said. ‘But then, what’s to be done about the +victuals?’</p> +<p>‘Give a dinner to the poor folk,’ she +suggested. ‘We can get everything used up that +way.’</p> +<p>‘That’s true’ said the miller. +‘There’s enough of ’em in these times to carry +off any extras whatsoever.’</p> +<p>‘And it will save Bob’s feelings +wonderfully. And they won’t know that the dinner was +got for another sort of wedding and another sort of guests; so +you’ll have their good-will for nothing.’</p> +<p>The miller smiled at the subtlety of the view. +‘That can hardly be called fair,’ he said. +‘Still, I did mean some of it for them, for the friends we +meant to ask would not have cleared all.’</p> +<p>Upon the whole the idea pleased him well, particularly when he +noticed the forlorn look of his sailor son as he walked about the +place, and pictured the inevitably jarring effect of fiddles and +tambourines upon Bob’s shattered nerves at such a crisis, +even if the notes of the former were dulled by the application of +a mute, and Bob shut up in a distant bedroom—a plan which +had at first occurred to him. He therefore told Bob that +the surcharged larder was to be emptied by the charitable process +above alluded to, and hoped he would not mind making himself +useful in such a good and gloomy work. Bob readily fell in +with the scheme, and it was at once put in hand and the tables +spread.</p> +<p>The alacrity with which the substituted wedding was carried +out, seemed to show that the worthy pair of neighbours would have +joined themselves into one long ago, had there previously +occurred any domestic incident dictating such a step as an +apposite expedient, apart from their personal wish to marry.</p> +<p>The appointed morning came, and the service quietly took place +at the cheerful hour of ten, in the face of a triangular +congregation, of which the base was the front pew, and the apex +the west door. Mrs. Garland dressed herself in the muslin +shawl like Queen Charlotte’s, that Bob had brought home, +and her best plum-coloured gown, beneath which peeped out her +shoes with red rosettes. Anne was present, but she +considerately toned herself down, so as not to too seriously +damage her mother’s appearance. At moments during the +ceremony she had a distressing sense that she ought not to be +born, and was glad to get home again.</p> +<p>The interest excited in the village, though real, was hardly +enough to bring a serious blush to the face of coyness. +Neighbours’ minds had become so saturated by the abundance +of showy military and regal incident lately vouchsafed to them, +that the wedding of middle-aged civilians was of small account, +excepting in so far that it solved the question whether or not +Mrs. Garland would consider herself too genteel to mate with a +grinder of corn.</p> +<p>In the evening, Loveday’s heart was made glad by seeing +the baked and boiled in rapid process of consumption by the +kitchenful of people assembled for that purpose. +Three-quarters of an hour were sufficient to banish for ever his +fears as to spoilt food. The provisions being the cause of +the assembly, and not its consequence, it had been determined to +get all that would not keep consumed on that day, even if +highways and hedges had to be searched for operators. And, +in addition to the poor and needy, every cottager’s +daughter known to the miller was invited, and told to bring her +lover from camp—an expedient which, for letting daylight +into the inside of full platters, was among the most happy ever +known.</p> +<p>While Mr. and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and Bob were standing in the +parlour, discussing the progress of the entertainment in the next +room, John, who had not been down all day, entered the house and +looked in upon them through the open door.</p> +<p>‘How’s this, John? Why didn’t you come +before?’</p> +<p>‘Had to see the captain, and—other duties,’ +said the trumpet-major, in a tone which showed no great zeal for +explanations.</p> +<p>‘Well, come in, however,’ continued the miller, as +his son remained with his hand on the door-post, surveying them +reflectively.</p> +<p>‘I cannot stay long,’ said John, advancing. +‘The Route is come, and we are going away.’</p> +<p>‘Going away! Where to?’</p> +<p>‘To Exonbury.’</p> +<p>‘When?’</p> +<p>‘Friday morning.’</p> +<p>‘All of you?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; some to-morrow and some next day. The King +goes next week.’</p> +<p>‘I am sorry for this,’ said the miller, not +expressing half his sorrow by the simple utterance. +‘I wish you could have been here to-day, since this is the +case,’ he added, looking at the horizon through the +window.</p> +<p>Mrs. Loveday also expressed her regret, which seemed to remind +the trumpet-major of the event of the day, and he went to her and +tried to say something befitting the occasion. Anne had not +said that she was either sorry or glad, but John Loveday fancied +that she had looked rather relieved than otherwise when she heard +his news. His conversation with Bob on the down made +Bob’s manner, too, remarkably cool, notwithstanding that he +had after all followed his brother’s advice, which it was +as yet too soon after the event for him to rightly value. +John did not know why the sailor had come back, never supposing +that it was because he had thought better of going, and said to +him privately, ‘You didn’t overtake her?’</p> +<p>‘I didn’t try to,’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘And you are not going to?’</p> +<p>‘No; I shall let her drift.’</p> +<p>‘I am glad indeed, Bob; you have been wise,’ said +John heartily.</p> +<p>Bob, however, still loved Matilda too well to be other than +dissatisfied with John and the event that he had precipitated, +which the elder brother only too promptly perceived; and it made +his stay that evening of short duration. Before leaving he +said with some hesitation to his father, including Anne and her +mother by his glance, ‘Do you think to come up and see us +off?’</p> +<p>The miller answered for them all, and said that of course they +would come. ‘But you’ll step down again between +now and then?’ he inquired.</p> +<p>‘I’ll try to.’ He added after a pause, +‘In case I should not, remember that Revalley will sound at +half past five; we shall leave about eight. Next summer, +perhaps, we shall come and camp here again.’</p> +<p>‘I hope so,’ said his father and Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>There was something in John’s manner which indicated to +Anne that he scarcely intended to come down again; but the others +did not notice it, and she said nothing. He departed a few +minutes later, in the dusk of the August evening, leaving Anne +still in doubt as to the meaning of his private meeting with Miss +Johnson.</p> +<p>John Loveday had been going to tell them that on the last +night, by an especial privilege, it would be in his power to come +and stay with them until eleven o’clock, but at the moment +of leaving he abandoned the intention. Anne’s +attitude had chilled him, and made him anxious to be off. +He utilized the spare hours of that last night in another +way.</p> +<p>This was by coming down from the outskirts of the camp in the +evening, and seating himself near the brink of the mill-pond as +soon as it was quite dark; where he watched the lights in the +different windows till one appeared in Anne’s bedroom, and +she herself came forward to shut the casement, with the candle in +her hand. The light shone out upon the broad and deep +mill-head, illuminating to a distinct individuality every moth +and gnat that entered the quivering chain of radiance stretching +across the water towards him, and every bubble or atom of froth +that floated into its width. She stood for some time +looking out, little thinking what the darkness concealed on the +other side of that wide stream; till at length she closed the +casement, drew the curtains, and retreated into the room. +Presently the light went out, upon which John Loveday returned to +camp and lay down in his tent.</p> +<p>The next morning was dull and windy, and the trumpets of the +--th sounded Reveille for the last time on Overcombe Down. +Knowing that the Dragoons were going away, Anne had slept +heedfully, and was at once awakened by the smart notes. She +looked out of the window, to find that the miller was already +astir, his white form being visible at the end of his garden, +where he stood motionless, watching the preparations. Anne +also looked on as well as she could through the dim grey gloom, +and soon she saw the blue smoke from the cooks’ fires +creeping fitfully along the ground, instead of rising in vertical +columns, as it had done during the fine weather season. +Then the men began to carry their bedding to the waggons, and +others to throw all refuse into the trenches, till the down was +lively as an ant-hill. Anne did not want to see John +Loveday again, but hearing the household astir, she began to +dress at leisure, looking out at the camp the while.</p> +<p>When the soldiers had breakfasted, she saw them selling and +giving away their superfluous crockery to the natives who had +clustered round; and then they pulled down and cleared away the +temporary kitchens which they had constructed when they +came. A tapping of tent-pegs and wriggling of picket-posts +followed, and soon the cones of white canvas, now almost become a +component part of the landscape, fell to the ground. At +this moment the miller came indoors and asked at the foot of the +stairs if anybody was going up the hill with him.</p> +<p>Anne felt that, in spite of the cloud hanging over John in her +mind, it would ill become the present moment not to see him off, +and she went downstairs to her mother, who was already there, +though Bob was nowhere to be seen. Each took an arm of the +miller, and thus climbed to the top of the hill. By this +time the men and horses were at the place of assembly, and, +shortly after the mill-party reached level ground, the troops +slowly began to move forward. When the trumpet-major, half +buried in his uniform, arms, and horse-furniture, drew near to +the spot where the Lovedays were waiting to see him pass, his +father turned anxiously to Anne and said, ‘You will shake +hands with John?’</p> +<p>Anne faintly replied ‘Yes,’ and allowed the miller +to take her forward on his arm to the trackway, so as to be close +to the flank of the approaching column. It came up, many +people on each side grasping the hands of the troopers in bidding +them farewell; and as soon as John Loveday saw the members of his +father’s household, he stretched down his hand across his +right pistol for the same performance. The miller gave his, +then Mrs. Loveday gave hers, and then the hand of the +trumpet-major was extended towards Anne. But as the horse +did not absolutely stop, it was a somewhat awkward performance +for a young woman to undertake, and, more on that account than on +any other, Anne drew back, and the gallant trooper passed by +without receiving her adieu. Anne’s heart reproached +her for a moment; and then she thought that, after all, he was +not going off to immediate battle, and that she would in all +probability see him again at no distant date, when she hoped that +the mystery of his conduct would be explained. Her thoughts +were interrupted by a voice at her elbow: ‘Thank heaven, +he’s gone! Now there’s a chance for +me.’</p> +<p>She turned, and Festus Derriman was standing by her.</p> +<p>‘There’s no chance for you,’ she said +indignantly.</p> +<p>‘Why not?’</p> +<p>‘Because there’s another left!’</p> +<p>The words had slipped out quite unintentionally, and she +blushed quickly. She would have given anything to be able +to recall them; but he had heard, and said, +‘Who?’</p> +<p>Anne went forward to the miller to avoid replying, and Festus +caught her no more.</p> +<p>‘Has anybody been hanging about Overcombe Mill except +Loveday’s son the soldier?’ he asked of a +comrade.</p> +<p>‘His son the sailor,’ was the reply.</p> +<p>‘O—his son the sailor,’ said Festus +slowly. ‘Damn his son the sailor!’</p> +<h2>XXII. THE TWO HOUSEHOLDS UNITED</h2> +<p>At this particular moment the object of Festus +Derriman’s fulmination was assuredly not dangerous as a +rival. Bob, after abstractedly watching the soldiers from +the front of the house till they were out of sight, had gone +within doors and seated himself in the mill-parlour, where his +father found him, his elbows resting on the table and his +forehead on his hands, his eyes being fixed upon a document that +lay open before him.</p> +<p>‘What art perusing, Bob, with such a long +face?’</p> +<p>Bob sighed, and then Mrs. Loveday and Anne entered. +‘’Tis only a state-paper that I fondly thought I +should have a use for,’ he said gloomily. And, +looking down as before, he cleared his voice, as if moved +inwardly to go on, and began to read in feeling tones from what +proved to be his nullified marriage licence:—</p> +<p>‘“Timothy Titus Philemon, by permission Bishop of +Bristol: To our well-beloved Robert Loveday, of the parish of +Overcombe, Bachelor; and Matilda Johnson, of the same parish, +Spinster. Greeting.”’</p> +<p>Here Anne sighed, but contrived to keep down her sigh to a +mere nothing.</p> +<p>‘Beautiful language, isn’t it!’ said +Bob. ‘I was never greeted like that afore!’</p> +<p>‘Yes; I have often thought it very excellent language +myself,’ said Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>‘Come to that, the old gentleman will greet thee like it +again any day for a couple of guineas,’ said the +miller.</p> +<p>‘That’s not the point, father! You never +could see the real meaning of these things. . . . Well, +then he goes on: “Whereas ye are, as it is alleged, +determined to enter into the holy estate of +matrimony—” But why should I read on? It +all means nothing now—nothing, and the splendid words are +all wasted upon air. It seems as if I had been hailed by +some venerable hoary prophet, and had turned away, put the helm +hard up, and wouldn’t hear.’</p> +<p>Nobody replied, feeling probably that sympathy could not meet +the case, and Bob went on reading the rest of it to himself, +occasionally heaving a breath like the wind in a ship’s +shrouds.</p> +<p>‘I wouldn’t set my mind so much upon her, if I was +thee,’ said his father at last.</p> +<p>‘Why not?’</p> +<p>‘Well, folk might call thee a fool, and say thy brains +were turning to water.’</p> +<p>Bob was apparently much struck by this thought, and, instead +of continuing the discourse further, he carefully folded up the +licence, went out, and walked up and down the garden. It +was startlingly apt what his father had said; and, worse than +that, what people would call him might be true, and the +liquefaction of his brains turn out to be no fable. By +degrees he became much concerned, and the more he examined +himself by this new light the more clearly did he perceive that +he was in a very bad way.</p> +<p>On reflection he remembered that since Miss Johnson’s +departure his appetite had decreased amazingly. He had +eaten in meat no more than fourteen or fifteen ounces a day, but +one-third of a quartern pudding on an average, in vegetables only +a small heap of potatoes and half a York cabbage, and no gravy +whatever; which, considering the usual appetite of a seaman for +fresh food at the end of a long voyage, was no small index of the +depression of his mind. Then he had waked once every night, +and on one occasion twice. While dressing each morning +since the gloomy day he had not whistled more than seven bars of +a hornpipe without stopping and falling into thought of a most +painful kind; and he had told none but absolutely true stories of +foreign parts to the neighbouring villagers when they saluted and +clustered about him, as usual, for anything he chose to pour +forth—except that story of the whale whose eye was about as +large as the round pond in Derriman’s ewe-lease—which +was like tempting fate to set a seal for ever upon his tongue as +a traveller. All this enervation, mental and physical, had +been produced by Matilda’s departure.</p> +<p>He also considered what he had lost of the rational amusements +of manhood during these unfortunate days. He might have +gone to the neighbouring fashionable resort every afternoon, +stood before Gloucester Lodge till the King and Queen came out, +held his hat in his hand, and enjoyed their Majesties’ +smiles at his homage all for nothing—watched the +picket-mounting, heard the different bands strike up, observed +the staff; and, above all, have seen the pretty town girls go +trip-trip-trip along the esplanade, deliberately fixing their +innocent eyes on the distant sea, the grey cliffs, and the sky, +and accidentally on the soldiers and himself.</p> +<p>‘I’ll raze out her image,’ he said. +‘She shall make a fool of me no more.’ And his +resolve resulted in conduct which had elements of real +greatness.</p> +<p>He went back to his father, whom he found in the +mill-loft. ‘’Tis true, father, what you +say,’ he observed: ‘my brains will turn to +bilge-water if I think of her much longer. By the oath of +a—navigator, I wish I could sigh less and laugh more! +She’s gone—why can’t I let her go, and be +happy? But how begin?’</p> +<p>‘Take it careless, my son,’ said the miller, +‘and lay yourself out to enjoy snacks and +cordials.’</p> +<p>‘Ah—that’s a thought!’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘Baccy is good for’t. So is sperrits. +Though I don’t advise thee to drink neat.’</p> +<p>‘Baccy—I’d almost forgot it!’ said +Captain Loveday.</p> +<p>He went to his room, hastily untied the package of tobacco +that he had brought home, and began to make use of it in his own +way, calling to David for a bottle of the old household mead that +had lain in the cellar these eleven years. He was +discovered by his father three-quarters of an hour later as a +half-invisible object behind a cloud of smoke.</p> +<p>The miller drew a breath of relief. ‘Why, +Bob,’ he said, ‘I thought the house was +a-fire!’</p> +<p>‘I’m smoking rather fast to drown my reflections, +father. ’Tis no use to chaw.’</p> +<p>To tempt his attenuated appetite the unhappy mate made David +cook an omelet and bake a seed-cake, the latter so richly +compounded that it opened to the knife like a freckled +buttercup. With the same object he stuck night-lines into +the banks of the mill-pond, and drew up next morning a family of +fat eels, some of which were skinned and prepared for his +breakfast. They were his favourite fish, but such had been +his condition that, until the moment of making this effort, he +had quite forgotten their existence at his father’s +back-door.</p> +<p>In a few days Bob Loveday had considerably improved in tone +and vigour. One other obvious remedy for his dejection was +to indulge in the society of Miss Garland, love being so much +more effectually got rid of by displacement than by attempted +annihilation. But Loveday’s belief that he had +offended her beyond forgiveness, and his ever-present sense of +her as a woman who by education and antecedents was fitted to +adorn a higher sphere than his own, effectually kept him from +going near her for a long time, notwithstanding that they were +inmates of one house. The reserve was, however, in some +degree broken by the appearance one morning, later in the season, +of the point of a saw through the partition which divided +Anne’s room from the Loveday half of the house. +Though she dined and supped with her mother and the Loveday +family, Miss Garland had still continued to occupy her old +apartments, because she found it more convenient there to pursue +her hobbies of wool-work and of copying her father’s old +pictures. The division wall had not as yet been broken +down.</p> +<p>As the saw worked its way downwards under her astonished gaze +Anne jumped up from her drawing; and presently the temporary +canvasing and papering which had sealed up the old door of +communication was cut completely through. The door burst +open, and Bob stood revealed on the other side, with the saw in +his hand.</p> +<p>‘I beg your ladyship’s pardon,’ he said, +taking off the hat he had been working in, as his handsome face +expanded into a smile. ‘I didn’t know this door +opened into your private room.’</p> +<p>‘Indeed, Captain Loveday!’</p> +<p>‘I am pulling down the division on principle, as we are +now one family. But I really thought the door opened into +your passage.’</p> +<p>‘It don’t matter; I can get another +room.’</p> +<p>‘Not at all. Father wouldn’t let me turn you +out. I’ll close it up again.’</p> +<p>But Anne was so interested in the novelty of a new doorway +that she walked through it, and found herself in a dark low +passage which she had never seen before.</p> +<p>‘It leads to the mill,’ said Bob. +‘Would you like to go in and see it at work? But +perhaps you have already.’</p> +<p>‘Only into the ground floor.’</p> +<p>‘Come all over it. I am practising as grinder, you +know, to help my father.’</p> +<p>She followed him along the dark passage, in the side of which +he opened a little trap, when she saw a great slimy cavern, where +the long arms of the mill-wheel flung themselves slowly and +distractedly round, and splashing water-drops caught the little +light that strayed into the gloomy place, turning it into stars +and flashes. A cold mist-laden puff of air came into their +faces, and the roar from within made it necessary for Anne to +shout as she said, ‘It is dismal! let us go on.’</p> +<p>Bob shut the trap, the roar ceased, and they went on to the +inner part of the mill, where the air was warm and nutty, and +pervaded by a fog of flour. Then they ascended the stairs, +and saw the stones lumbering round and round, and the yellow corn +running down through the hopper. They climbed yet further +to the top stage, where the wheat lay in bins, and where long +rays like feelers stretched in from the sun through the little +window, got nearly lost among cobwebs and timber, and completed +their course by marking the opposite wall with a glowing patch of +gold.</p> +<p>In his earnestness as an exhibitor Bob opened the bolter, +which was spinning rapidly round, the result being that a dense +cloud of flour rolled out in their faces, reminding Anne that her +complexion was probably much paler by this time than when she had +entered the mill. She thanked her companion for his +trouble, and said she would now go down. He followed her +with the same deference as hitherto, and with a sudden and +increasing sense that of all cures for his former unhappy passion +this would have been the nicest, the easiest, and the most +effectual, if he had only been fortunate enough to keep her upon +easy terms. But Miss Garland showed no disposition to go +further than accept his services as a guide; she descended to the +open air, shook the flour from her like a bird, and went on into +the garden amid the September sunshine, whose rays lay level +across the blue haze which the earth gave forth. The gnats +were dancing up and down in airy companies, the nasturtium +flowers shone out in groups from the dark hedge over which they +climbed, and the mellow smell of the decline of summer was +exhaled by everything. Bob followed her as far as the gate, +looked after her, thought of her as the same girl who had half +encouraged him years ago, when she seemed so superior to him; +though now they were almost equal she apparently thought him +beneath her. It was with a new sense of pleasure that his +mind flew to the fact that she was now an inmate of his +father’s house.</p> +<p>His obsequious bearing was continued during the next +week. In the busy hours of the day they seldom met, but +they regularly encountered each other at meals, and these +cheerful occasions began to have an interest for him quite +irrespective of dishes and cups. When Anne entered and took +her seat she was always loudly hailed by Miller Loveday as he +whetted his knife; but from Bob she condescended to accept no +such familiar greeting, and they often sat down together as if +each had a blind eye in the direction of the other. Bob +sometimes told serious and correct stories about sea-captains, +pilots, boatswains, mates, able seamen, and other curious fauna +of the marine world; but these were directly addressed to his +father and Mrs. Loveday, Anne being included at the +clinching-point by a glance only. He sometimes opened +bottles of sweet cider for her, and then she thanked him; but +even this did not lead to her encouraging his chat.</p> +<p>One day when Anne was paring an apple she was left at table +with the young man. ‘I have made something for +you,’ he said.</p> +<p>She looked all over the table; nothing was there save the +ordinary remnants.</p> +<p>‘O I don’t mean that it is here; it is out by the +bridge at the mill-head.’</p> +<p>He arose, and Anne followed with curiosity in her eyes, and +with her firm little mouth pouted up to a puzzled shape. On +reaching the mossy mill-head she found that he had fixed in the +keen damp draught which always prevailed over the wheel an +Æolian harp of large size. At present the strings +were partly covered with a cloth. He lifted it, and the +wires began to emit a weird harmony which mingled curiously with +the plashing of the wheel.</p> +<p>‘I made it on purpose for you, Miss Garland,’ he +said.</p> +<p>She thanked him very warmly, for she had never seen anything +like such an instrument before, and it interested her. +‘It was very thoughtful of you to make it,’ she +added. ‘How came you to think of such a +thing?’</p> +<p>‘O I don’t know exactly,’ he replied, as if +he did not care to be questioned on the point. ‘I +have never made one in my life till now.’</p> +<p>Every night after this, during the mournful gales of autumn, +the strange mixed music of water, wind, and strings met her ear, +swelling and sinking with an almost supernatural cadence. +The character of the instrument was far enough removed from +anything she had hitherto seen of Bob’s hobbies; so that +she marvelled pleasantly at the new depths of poetry this +contrivance revealed as existent in that young seaman’s +nature, and allowed her emotions to flow out yet a little further +in the old direction, notwithstanding her late severe resolve to +bar them back.</p> +<p>One breezy night, when the mill was kept going into the small +hours, and the wind was exactly in the direction of the +water-current, the music so mingled with her dreams as to wake +her: it seemed to rhythmically set itself to the words, +‘Remember me! think of me!’ She was much +impressed; the sounds were almost too touching; and she spoke to +Bob the next morning on the subject.</p> +<p>‘How strange it is that you should have thought of +fixing that harp where the water gushes!’ she gently +observed. ‘It affects me almost painfully at +night. You are poetical, Captain Bob. But it is +too—too sad!’</p> +<p>‘I will take it away,’ said Captain Bob +promptly. ‘It certainly is too sad; I thought so +myself. I myself was kept awake by it one night.’</p> +<p>‘How came you to think of making such a peculiar +thing?’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Bob, ‘it is hardly worth saying +why. It is not a good place for such a queer noisy machine; +and I’ll take it away.’</p> +<p>‘On second thoughts,’ said Anne, ‘I should +like it to remain a little longer, because it sets me +thinking.’</p> +<p>‘Of me?’ he asked with earnest frankness.</p> +<p>Anne’s colour rose fast.</p> +<p>‘Well, yes,’ she said, trying to infuse much plain +matter-of-fact into her voice. ‘Of course I am led to +think of the person who invented it.’</p> +<p>Bob seemed unaccountably embarrassed, and the subject was not +pursued. About half-an-hour later he came to her again, +with something of an uneasy look.</p> +<p>‘There was a little matter I didn’t tell you just +now, Miss Garland,’ he said. ‘About that harp +thing, I mean. I did make it, certainly, but it was my +brother John who asked me to do it, just before he went +away. John is very musical, as you know, and he said it +would interest you; but as he didn’t ask me to tell, I did +not. Perhaps I ought to have, and not have taken the credit +to myself.’</p> +<p>‘O, it is nothing!’ said Anne quickly. +‘It is a very incomplete instrument after all, and it will +be just as well for you to take it away as you first +proposed.’</p> +<p>He said that he would, but he forgot to do it that day; and +the following night there was a high wind, and the harp cried and +moaned so movingly that Anne, whose window was quite near, could +hardly bear the sound with its new associations. John +Loveday was present to her mind all night as an ill-used man; and +yet she could not own that she had ill-used him.</p> +<p>The harp was removed next day. Bob, feeling that his +credit for originality was damaged in her eyes, by way of +recovering it set himself to paint the summer-house which Anne +frequented, and when he came out he assured her that it was quite +his own idea.</p> +<p>‘It wanted doing, certainly,’ she said, in a +neutral tone.</p> +<p>‘It is just about troublesome.’</p> +<p>‘Yes; you can’t quite reach up. That’s +because you are not very tall; is it not, Captain +Loveday?’</p> +<p>‘You never used to say things like that.’</p> +<p>‘O, I don’t mean that you are much less than +tall! Shall I hold the paint for you, to save your stepping +down?’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, if you would.’</p> +<p>She took the paint-pot, and stood looking at the brush as it +moved up and down in his hand.</p> +<p>‘I hope I shall not sprinkle your fingers,’ he +observed as he dipped.</p> +<p>‘O, that would not matter! You do it very +well.’</p> +<p>‘I am glad to hear that you think so.’</p> +<p>‘But perhaps not quite so much art is demanded to paint +a summer-house as to paint a picture?’</p> +<p>Thinking that, as a painter’s daughter, and a person of +education superior to his own, she spoke with a flavour of +sarcasm, he felt humbled and said—</p> +<p>‘You did not use to talk like that to me.’</p> +<p>‘I was perhaps too young then to take any pleasure in +giving pain,’ she observed daringly.</p> +<p>‘Does it give you pleasure?’</p> +<p>Anne nodded.</p> +<p>‘I like to give pain to people who have given pain to +me,’ she said smartly, without removing her eyes from the +green liquid in her hand.</p> +<p>‘I ask your pardon for that.’</p> +<p>‘I didn’t say I meant you—though I did mean +you.’</p> +<p>Bob looked and looked at her side face till he was bewitched +into putting down his brush.</p> +<p>‘It was that stupid forgetting of ’ee for a +time!’ he exclaimed. ‘Well, I hadn’t seen +you for so very long—consider how many years! O, dear +Anne!’ he said, advancing to take her hand, ‘how well +we knew one another when we were children! You was a queen +to me then; and so you are now, and always.’</p> +<p>Possibly Anne was thrilled pleasantly enough at having brought +the truant village lad to her feet again; but he was not to find +the situation so easy as he imagined, and her hand was not to be +taken yet.</p> +<p>‘Very pretty!’ she said, laughing. +‘And only six weeks since Miss Johnson left.’</p> +<p>‘Zounds, don’t say anything about that!’ +implored Bob. ‘I swear that I never—never +deliberately loved her—for a long time together, that is; +it was a sudden sort of thing, you know. But towards +you—I have more or less honoured and respectfully loved +you, off and on, all my life. There, that’s +true.’</p> +<p>Anne retorted quickly—</p> +<p>‘I am willing, off and on, to believe you, Captain +Robert. But I don’t see any good in your making these +solemn declarations.’</p> +<p>‘Give me leave to explain, dear Miss Garland. It +is to get you to be pleased to renew an old promise—made +years ago—that you’ll think o’ me.’</p> +<p>‘Not a word of any promise will I repeat.’</p> +<p>‘Well, well, I won’t urge ’ee to-day. +Only let me beg of you to get over the quite wrong notion you +have of me; and it shall be my whole endeavour to fetch your +gracious favour.’</p> +<p>Anne turned away from him and entered the house, whither in +the course of a quarter of an hour he followed her, knocking at +her door, and asking to be let in. She said she was busy; +whereupon he went away, to come back again in a short time and +receive the same answer.</p> +<p>‘I have finished painting the summer-house for +you,’ he said through the door.</p> +<p>‘I cannot come to see it. I shall be engaged till +supper-time.’</p> +<p>She heard him breathe a heavy sigh and withdraw, murmuring +something about his bad luck in being cut away from the starn +like this. But it was not over yet. When supper-time +came and they sat down together, she took upon herself to reprove +him for what he had said to her in the garden.</p> +<p>Bob made his forehead express despair.</p> +<p>‘Now, I beg you this one thing,’ he said. +‘Just let me know your whole mind. Then I shall have +a chance to confess my faults and mend them, or clear my conduct +to your satisfaction.’</p> +<p>She answered with quickness, but not loud enough to be heard +by the old people at the other end of the +table—‘Then, Captain Loveday, I will tell you one +thing, one fault, that perhaps would have been more proper to my +character than to yours. You are too easily impressed by +new faces, and that gives me a <i>bad opinion</i> of +you—yes, a <i>bad opinion</i>.’</p> +<p>‘O, that’s it!’ said Bob slowly, looking at +her with the intense respect of a pupil for a master, her words +being spoken in a manner so precisely between jest and earnest +that he was in some doubt how they were to be received. +‘Impressed by new faces. It is wrong, certainly, of +me.’</p> +<p>The popping of a cork, and the pouring out of strong beer by +the miller with a view to giving it a head, were apparently +distractions sufficient to excuse her in not attending further to +him; and during the remainder of the sitting her gentle chiding +seemed to be sinking seriously into his mind. Perhaps her +own heart ached to see how silent he was; but she had always +meant to punish him. Day after day for two or three weeks +she preserved the same demeanour, with a self-control which did +justice to her character. And, on his part, considering +what he had to put up with—how she eluded him, snapped him +off, refused to come out when he called her, refused to see him +when he wanted to enter the little parlour which she had now +appropriated to her private use, his patience testified strongly +to his good-humour.</p> +<h2>XXIII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS ON AN EXTENDED SCALE</h2> +<p>Christmas had passed. Dreary winter with dark evenings +had given place to more dreary winter with light evenings. +Rapid thaws had ended in rain, rain in wind, wind in dust. +Showery days had come—the season of pink dawns and white +sunsets; and people hoped that the March weather was over.</p> +<p>The chief incident that concerned the household at the mill +was that the miller, following the example of all his neighbours, +had become a volunteer, and duly appeared twice a week in a red, +long-tailed military coat, pipe-clayed breeches, black cloth +gaiters, a heel-balled helmet-hat, with a tuft of green wool, and +epaulettes of the same colour and material. Bob still +remained neutral. Not being able to decide whether to enrol +himself as a sea-fencible, a local militia-man, or a volunteer, +he simply went on dancing attendance upon Anne. Mrs. +Loveday had become awake to the fact that the pair of young +people stood in a curious attitude towards each other; but as +they were never seen with their heads together, and scarcely ever +sat even in the same room, she could not be sure what their +movements meant.</p> +<p>Strangely enough (or perhaps naturally enough), since entering +the Loveday family herself, she had gradually grown to think less +favourably of Anne doing the same thing, and reverted to her +original idea of encouraging Festus; this more particularly +because he had of late shown such perseverance in haunting the +precincts of the mill, presumably with the intention of lighting +upon the young girl. But the weather had kept her mostly +indoors.</p> +<p>One afternoon it was raining in torrents. Such leaves as +there were on trees at this time of year—those of the +laurel and other evergreens—staggered beneath the hard +blows of the drops which fell upon them, and afterwards could be +seen trickling down the stems beneath and silently entering the +ground. The surface of the mill-pond leapt up in a thousand +spirts under the same downfall, and clucked like a hen in the +rat-holes along the banks as it undulated under the wind. +The only dry spot visible from the front windows of the +mill-house was the inside of a small shed, on the opposite side +of the courtyard. While Mrs. Loveday was noticing the +threads of rain descending across its interior shade, Festus +Derriman walked up and entered it for shelter, which, owing to +the lumber within, it but scantily afforded to a man who would +have been a match for one of Frederick William’s +Patagonians.</p> +<p>It was an excellent opportunity for helping on her +scheme. Anne was in the back room, and by asking him in +till the rain was over she would bring him face to face with her +daughter, whom, as the days went on, she increasingly wished to +marry other than a Loveday, now that the romance of her own +alliance with the millet had in some respects worn off. She +was better provided for than before; she was not unhappy; but the +plain fact was that she had married beneath her. She +beckoned to Festus through the window-pane; he instantly complied +with her signal, having in fact placed himself there on purpose +to be noticed; for he knew that Miss Garland would not be +out-of-doors on such a day.</p> +<p>‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Loveday,’ said Festus on +entering. ‘There now—if I didn’t think +that’s how it would be!’ His voice had suddenly +warmed to anger, for he had seen a door close in the back part of +the room, a lithe figure having previously slipped through.</p> +<p>Mrs. Loveday turned, observed that Anne was gone, and said, +‘What is it?’ as if she did not know.</p> +<p>‘O, nothing, nothing!’ said Festus crossly. +‘You know well enough what it is, ma’am; only you +make pretence otherwise. But I’ll bring her to book +yet. You shall drop your haughty airs, my charmer! +She little thinks I have kept an account of ’em +all.’</p> +<p>‘But you must treat her politely, sir,’ said Mrs. +Loveday, secretly pleased at these signs of uncontrollable +affection.</p> +<p>‘Don’t tell me of politeness or generosity, +ma’am! She is more than a match for me. She +regularly gets over me. I have passed by this house +five-and-fifty times since last Martinmas, and this is all my +reward for’t!’</p> +<p>‘But you will stay till the rain is over, +sir?’</p> +<p>‘No. I don’t mind rain. I’m off +again. She’s got somebody else in her +eye!’ And the yeoman went out, slamming the door.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the slippery object of his hopes had gone along the +dark passage, passed the trap which opened on the wheel, and +through the door into the mill, where she was met by Bob, who +looked up from the flour-shoot inquiringly and said, ‘You +want me, Miss Garland?’</p> +<p>‘O no,’ said she. ‘I only want to be +allowed to stand here a few minutes.’</p> +<p>He looked at her to know if she meant it, and finding that she +did, returned to his post. When the mill had rumbled on a +little longer he came back.</p> +<p>‘Bob,’ she said, when she saw him move, +‘remember that you are at work, and have no time to stand +close to me.’</p> +<p>He bowed and went to his original post again, Anne watching +from the window till Festus should leave. The mill rumbled +on as before, and at last Bob came to her for the third +time. ‘Now, Bob—’ she began.</p> +<p>‘On my honour, ’tis only to ask a question. +Will you walk with me to church next Sunday afternoon?’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps I will,’ she said. But at this +moment the yeoman left the house, and Anne, to escape further +parley, returned to the dwelling by the way she had come.</p> +<p>Sunday afternoon arrived, and the family was standing at the +door waiting for the church bells to begin. From that side +of the house they could see southward across a paddock to the +rising ground further ahead, where there grew a large elm-tree, +beneath whose boughs footpaths crossed in different directions, +like meridians at the pole. The tree was old, and in summer +the grass beneath it was quite trodden away by the feet of the +many trysters and idlers who haunted the spot. The tree +formed a conspicuous object in the surrounding landscape.</p> +<p>While they looked, a foot soldier in red uniform and white +breeches came along one of the paths, and stopping beneath the +elm, took from his pocket a paper, which he proceeded to nail up +by the four corners to the trunk. He drew back, looked at +it, and went on his way. Bob got his glass from indoors and +levelled it at the placard, but after looking for a long time he +could make out nothing but a lion and a unicorn at the top. +Anne, who was ready for church, moved away from the door, though +it was yet early, and showed her intention of going by way of the +elm. The paper had been so impressively nailed up that she +was curious to read it even at this theological time. Bob +took the opportunity of following, and reminded her of her +promise.</p> +<p>‘Then walk behind me not at all close,’ she +said.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ he replied, immediately dropping +behind.</p> +<p>The ludicrous humility of his manner led her to add playfully +over her shoulder, ‘It serves you right, you +know.’</p> +<p>‘I deserve anything, but I must take the liberty to say +that I hope my behaviour about Matil—, in forgetting you +awhile, will not make ye wish to keep me <i>always</i> +behind?’</p> +<p>She replied confidentially, ‘Why I am so earnest not to +be seen with you is that I may appear to people to be independent +of you. Knowing what I do of your weaknesses I can do no +otherwise. You must be schooled into—’</p> +<p>‘O, Anne,’ sighed Bob, ‘you hit me +hard—too hard! If ever I do win you I am sure I shall +have fairly earned you.’</p> +<p>‘You are not what you once seemed to be,’ she +returned softly. ‘I don’t quite like to let +myself love you.’ The last words were not very +audible, and as Bob was behind he caught nothing of them, nor did +he see how sentimental she had become all of a sudden. They +walked the rest of the way in silence, and coming to the tree +read as follows:—</p> +<blockquote><p>ADDRESS TO ALL RANKS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF +ENGLISHMEN.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Friends and Countrymen</span>,—The +French are now assembling the largest force that ever was +prepared to invade this Kingdom, with the professed purpose of +effecting our complete Ruin and Destruction. They do not +disguise their intentions, as they have often done to other +Countries; but openly boast that they will come over in such +Numbers as cannot be resisted.</p> +<p>Wherever the French have lately appeared they have spared +neither Rich nor Poor, Old nor Young; but like a Destructive +Pestilence have laid waste and destroyed every Thing that before +was fair and flourishing.</p> +<p>On this occasion no man’s service is compelled, but you +are invited voluntarily to come forward in defence of everything +that is dear to you, by entering your Names on the Lists which +are sent to the Tything-man of every Parish, and engaging to act +either as <i>Associated Volunteers bearing Arms</i>, <i>as +Pioneers and Labourers</i>, or as <i>Drivers of Waggons</i>.</p> +<p>As Associated Volunteers you will be called out only once a +week, unless the actual Landing of the Enemy should render your +further Services necessary.</p> +<p>As Pioneers or Labourers you will be employed in Breaking up +Roads to hinder the Enemy’s advance.</p> +<p>Those who have Pickaxes, Spades, Shovels, Bill-hooks, or other +Working Implements, are desired to mention them to the Constable +or Tything-man of their Parish, in order that they may be entered +on the Lists opposite their Homes, to be used if necessary. . . +.</p> +<p>It is thought desirable to give you this Explanation, that you +may not be ignorant of the Duties to which you may be +called. But if the love of true Liberty and honest Fame has +not ceased to animate the Hearts of Englishmen, Pay, though +necessary, will be the least Part of your Reward. You will +find your best Recompense in having done your Duty to your King +and Country by driving back or destroying your old and implacable +Enemy, envious of your Freedom and Happiness, and therefore +seeking to destroy them; in having protected your Wives and +Children from Death, or worse than Death, which will follow the +Success of such Inveterate Foes.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rouse</span>, therefore, and unite as one +man in the best of Causes! United we may defy the World to +conquer us; but Victory will never belong to those who are +slothful and unprepared. <a name="citation207"></a><a +href="#footnote207" class="citation">[207]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>‘I must go and join at once!’ said Bob.</p> +<p>Anne turned to him, all the playfulness gone from her +face. ‘I wish we lived in the north of England, Bob, +so as to be further away from where he’ll land!’ she +murmured uneasily.</p> +<p>‘Where we are would be Paradise to me, if you would only +make it so.’</p> +<p>‘It is not right to talk so lightly at such a serious +time,’ she thoughtfully returned, going on towards the +church.</p> +<p>On drawing near, they saw through the boughs of a clump of +intervening trees, still leafless, but bursting into buds of +amber hue, a glittering which seemed to be reflected from points +of steel. In a few moments they heard above the tender +chiming of the church bells the loud voice of a man giving words +of command, at which all the metallic points suddenly shifted +like the bristles of a porcupine, and glistened anew.</p> +<p>‘’Tis the drilling,’ said Loveday. +‘They drill now between the services, you know, because +they can’t get the men together so readily in the +week. It makes me feel that I ought to be doing more than I +am!’</p> +<p>When they had passed round the belt of trees, the company of +recruits became visible, consisting of the able-bodied +inhabitants of the hamlets thereabout, more or less known to Bob +and Anne. They were assembled on the green plot outside the +churchyard-gate, dressed in their common clothes, and the +sergeant who had been putting them through their drill was the +man who nailed up the proclamation. He was now engaged in +untying a canvas money-bag, from which he drew forth a handful of +shillings, giving one to each man in payment for his +attendance.</p> +<p>‘Men, I dismissed ye too soon—parade, parade +again, I say,’ he cried. ‘My watch is fast, I +find. There’s another twenty minutes afore the +worship of God commences. Now all of you that +ha’n’t got firelocks, fall in at the lower end. +Eyes right and dress!’</p> +<p>As every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, those at +the end of the line pressed forward for that purpose, till the +line assumed the form of a bow.</p> +<p>‘Look at ye now! Why, you are all a crooking +in! Dress, dress!’</p> +<p>They dressed forthwith; but impelled by the same motive they +soon resumed their former figure, and so they were despairingly +permitted to remain.</p> +<p>‘Now, I hope you’ll have a little patience,’ +said the sergeant, as he stood in the centre of the arc, +‘and pay strict attention to the word of command, just +exactly as I give it out to ye; and if I should go wrong, I shall +be much obliged to any friend who’ll put me right again, +for I have only been in the army three weeks myself, and we are +all liable to mistakes.’</p> +<p>‘So we be, so we be,’ said the line heartily.</p> +<p>‘’Tention, the whole, then. Poise +fawlocks! Very well done!’</p> +<p>‘Please, what must we do that haven’t got no +firelocks!’ said the lower end of the line in a helpless +voice.</p> +<p>‘Now, was ever such a question! Why, you must do +nothing at all, but think <i>how</i> you’d poise ’em +<i>if</i> you had ’em. You middle men, that are armed +with hurdle-sticks and cabbage-stumps just to make-believe, must +of course use ’em as if they were the real thing. Now +then, cock fawlocks! Present! Fire! (Pretend to, I +mean, and the same time throw yer imagination into the field +o’ battle.) Very good—very good indeed; except +that some of you were a <i>little</i> too soon, and the rest a +<i>little</i> too late.’</p> +<p>‘Please, sergeant, can I fall out, as I am master-player +in the choir, and my bass-viol strings won’t stand at this +time o’ year, unless they be screwed up a little before the +passon comes in?’</p> +<p>‘How can you think of such trifles as churchgoing at +such a time as this, when your own native country is on the point +of invasion?’ said the sergeant sternly. ‘And, +as you know, the drill ends three minutes afore church begins, +and that’s the law, and it wants a quarter of an hour +yet. Now, at the word <i>Prime</i>, shake the powder +(supposing you’ve got it) into the priming-pan, three last +fingers behind the rammer; then shut your pans, drawing your +right arm nimble-like towards your body. I ought to have +told ye before this, that at <i>Hand your katridge</i>, seize it +and bring it with a quick motion to your mouth, bite the top well +off, and don’t swaller so much of the powder as to make ye +hawk and spet instead of attending to your drill. +What’s that man a-saying of in the rear rank?’</p> +<p>‘Please, sir, ’tis Anthony Cripplestraw, wanting +to know how he’s to bite off his katridge, when he +haven’t a tooth left in ’s head?’</p> +<p>‘Man! Why, what’s your genius for war? +Hold it up to your right-hand man’s mouth, to be sure, and +let him nip it off for ye. Well, what have you to say, +Private Tremlett? Don’t ye understand +English?’</p> +<p>‘Ask yer pardon, sergeant; but what must we infantry of +the awkward squad do if Boney comes afore we get our +firelocks?’</p> +<p>‘Take a pike, like the rest of the incapables. +You’ll find a store of them ready in the corner of the +church tower. Now +then—Shoulder—r—r—r—’</p> +<p>‘There, they be tinging in the passon!’ exclaimed +David, Miller Loveday’s man, who also formed one of the +company, as the bells changed from chiming all three together to +a quick beating of one. The whole line drew a breath of +relief, threw down their arms, and began running off.</p> +<p>‘Well, then, I must dismiss ye,’ said the +sergeant. ‘Come back—come back! Next +drill is Tuesday afternoon at four. And, mind, if your +masters won’t let ye leave work soon enough, tell me, and +I’ll write a line to Gover’ment! +‘Tention! To the right—left wheel, I +mean—no, no—right wheel. +Mar—r—r—rch!’</p> +<p>Some wheeled to the right and some to the left, and some +obliging men, including Cripplestraw, tried to wheel both +ways.</p> +<p>‘Stop, stop; try again! ‘Cruits and +comrades, unfortunately when I’m in a hurry I can never +remember my right hand from my left, and never could as a +boy. You must excuse me, please. Practice makes +perfect, as the saying is; and, much as I’ve learnt since I +‘listed, we always find something new. Now then, +right wheel! march! halt! Stand at ease! dismiss! I +think that’s the order o’t, but I’ll look in +the Gover’ment book afore Tuesday.’ <a +name="citation211"></a><a href="#footnote211" +class="citation">[211]</a></p> +<p>Many of the company who had been drilled preferred to go off +and spend their shillings instead of entering the church; but +Anne and Captain Bob passed in. Even the interior of the +sacred edifice was affected by the agitation of the times. +The religion of the country had, in fact, changed from love of +God to hatred of Napoleon Buonaparte; and, as if to remind the +devout of this alteration, the pikes for the pikemen (all those +accepted men who were not otherwise armed) were kept in the +church of each parish. There, against the wall, they always +stood—a whole sheaf of them, formed of new ash stems, with +a spike driven in at one end, the stick being preserved from +splitting by a ferule. And there they remained, year after +year, in the corner of the aisle, till they were removed and +placed under the gallery stairs, and thence ultimately to the +belfry, where they grew black, rusty, and worm-eaten, and were +gradually stolen and carried off by sextons, parish clerks, +whitewashers, window-menders, and other church servants for use +at home as rake-stems, benefit-club staves, and pick-handles, in +which degraded situations they may still occasionally be +found.</p> +<p>But in their new and shining state they had a terror for Anne, +whose eyes were involuntarily drawn towards them as she sat at +Bob’s side during the service, filling her with bloody +visions of their possible use not far from the very spot on which +they were now assembled. The sermon, too, was on the +subject of patriotism; so that when they came out she began to +harp uneasily upon the probability of their all being driven from +their homes.</p> +<p>Bob assured her that with the sixty thousand regulars, the +militia reserve of a hundred and twenty thousand, and the three +hundred thousand volunteers, there was not much to fear.</p> +<p>‘But I sometimes have a fear that poor John will be +killed,’ he continued after a pause. ‘He is +sure to be among the first that will have to face the invaders, +and the trumpeters get picked off.’</p> +<p>‘There is the same chance for him as for the +others,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Yes—yes—the same chance, such as it +is. You have never liked John since that affair of Matilda +Johnson, have you?’</p> +<p>‘Why?’ she quickly asked.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Bob timidly, ‘as it is a +ticklish time for him, would it not be worth while to make up any +differences before the crash comes?’</p> +<p>‘I have nothing to make up,’ said Anne, with some +distress. She still fully believed the trumpet-major to +have smuggled away Miss Johnson because of his own interest in +that lady, which must have made his professions to herself a mere +pastime; but that very conduct had in it the curious advantage to +herself of setting Bob free.</p> +<p>‘Since John has been gone,’ continued her +companion, ‘I have found out more of his meaning, and of +what he really had to do with that woman’s flight. +Did you know that he had anything to do with it?’</p> +<p>‘Yes.’</p> +<p>‘That he got her to go away?’</p> +<p>She looked at Bob with surprise. He was not exasperated +with John, and yet he knew so much as this.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ she said; ‘what did it +mean?’</p> +<p>He did not explain to her then; but the possibility of +John’s death, which had been newly brought home to him by +the military events of the day, determined him to get poor +John’s character cleared. Reproaching himself for +letting her remain so long with a mistaken idea of him, Bob went +to his father as soon as they got home, and begged him to get +Mrs. Loveday to tell Anne the true reason of John’s +objection to Miss Johnson as a sister-in-law.</p> +<p>‘She thinks it is because they were old lovers new met, +and that he wants to marry her,’ he exclaimed to his father +in conclusion.</p> +<p>‘Then <i>that’s</i> the meaning of the split +between Miss Nancy and Jack,’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘What, were they any more than common friends?’ +asked Bob uneasily.</p> +<p>‘Not on her side, perhaps.’</p> +<p>‘Well, we must do it,’ replied Bob, painfully +conscious that common justice to John might bring them into +hazardous rivalry, yet determined to be fair. ‘Tell +it all to Mrs. Loveday, and get her to tell Anne.’</p> +<h2>XXIV. A LETTER, A VISITOR, AND A TIN BOX</h2> +<p>The result of the explanation upon Anne was bitter +self-reproach. She was so sorry at having wronged the +kindly soldier that next morning she went by herself to the down, +and stood exactly where his tent had covered the sod on which he +had lain so many nights, thinking what sadness he must have +suffered because of her at the time of packing up and going +away. After that she wiped from her eyes the tears of pity +which had come there, descended to the house, and wrote an +impulsive letter to him, in which occurred the following +passages, indiscreet enough under the circumstances:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘I find all justice, all rectitude, on your +side, John; and all impertinence, all inconsiderateness, on +mine. I am so much convinced of your honour in the whole +transaction, that I shall for the future mistrust myself in +everything. And if it be possible, whenever I differ from +you on any point I shall take an hour’s time for +consideration before I say that I differ. If I have lost +your friendship, I have only myself to thank for it; but I +sincerely hope that you can forgive.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>After writing this she went to the garden, where Bob was +shearing the spring grass from the paths. ‘What is +John’s direction?’ she said, holding the sealed +letter in her hand.</p> +<p>‘Exonbury Barracks,’ Bob faltered, his countenance +sinking.</p> +<p>She thanked him and went indoors. When he came in, later +in the day, he passed the door of her empty sitting-room and saw +the letter on the mantelpiece. He disliked the sight of +it. Hearing voices in the other room, he entered and found +Anne and her mother there, talking to Cripplestraw, who had just +come in with a message from Squire Derriman, requesting Miss +Garland, as she valued the peace of mind of an old and troubled +man, to go at once and see him.</p> +<p>‘I cannot go,’ she said, not liking the risk that +such a visit involved.</p> +<p>An hour later Cripplestraw shambled again into the passage, on +the same errand.</p> +<p>‘Maister’s very poorly, and he hopes that +you’ll come, Mis’ess Anne. He wants to see +’ee very particular about the French.’</p> +<p>Anne would have gone in a moment, but for the fear that some +one besides the farmer might encounter her, and she answered as +before.</p> +<p>Another hour passed, and the wheels of a vehicle were +heard. Cripplestraw had come for the third time, with a +horse and gig; he was dressed in his best clothes, and brought +with him on this occasion a basket containing raisins, almonds, +oranges, and sweet cakes. Offering them to her as a gift +from the old farmer, he repeated his request for her to accompany +him, the gig and best mare having been sent as an additional +inducement.</p> +<p>‘I believe the old gentleman is in love with you, +Anne,’ said her mother.</p> +<p>‘Why couldn’t he drive down himself to see +me?’ Anne inquired of Cripplestraw.</p> +<p>‘He wants you at the house, please.’</p> +<p>‘Is Mr. Festus with him?’</p> +<p>‘No; he’s away to Budmouth.’</p> +<p>‘I’ll go,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘And I may come and meet you?’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘There’s my letter—what shall I do about +that?’ she said, instead of answering him. +‘Take my letter to the post-office, and you may +come,’ she added.</p> +<p>He said yes and went out, Cripplestraw retreating to the door +till she should be ready.</p> +<p>‘What letter is it?’ said her mother.</p> +<p>‘Only one to John,’ said Anne. ‘I have +asked him to forgive my suspicions. I could do no +less.’</p> +<p>‘Do you want to marry <i>him</i>?’ asked Mrs. +Loveday bluntly.</p> +<p>‘Mother!’</p> +<p>‘Well; he will take that letter as an +encouragement. Can’t you see that he will, you +foolish girl?’</p> +<p>Anne did see instantly. ‘Of course!’ she +said. ‘Tell Robert that he need not go.’</p> +<p>She went to her room to secure the letter. It was gone +from the mantelpiece, and on inquiry it was found that the +miller, seeing it there, had sent David with it to Budmouth hours +ago. Anne said nothing, and set out for Oxwell Hall with +Cripplestraw.</p> +<p>‘William,’ said Mrs. Loveday to the miller when +Anne was gone and Bob had resumed his work in the garden, +‘did you get that letter sent off on purpose?’</p> +<p>‘Well, I did. I wanted to make sure of it. +John likes her, and now ’twill be made up; and why +shouldn’t he marry her? I’ll start him in +business, if so be she’ll have him.’</p> +<p>‘But she is likely to marry Festus Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘I don’t want her to marry anybody but +John,’ said the miller doggedly.</p> +<p>‘Not if she is in love with Bob, and has been for years, +and he with her?’ asked his wife triumphantly.</p> +<p>‘In love with Bob, and he with her?’ repeated +Loveday.</p> +<p>‘Certainly,’ said she, going off and leaving him +to his reflections.</p> +<p>When Anne reached the hall she found old Mr. Derriman in his +customary chair. His complexion was more ashen, but his +movement in rising at her entrance, putting a chair and shutting +the door behind her, were much the same as usual.</p> +<p>‘Thank God you’ve come, my dear girl,’ he +said earnestly. ‘Ah, you don’t trip across to +read to me now! Why did ye cost me so much to fetch +you? Fie! A horse and gig, and a man’s time in +going three times. And what I sent ye cost a good deal in +Budmouth market, now everything is so dear there, and +’twould have cost more if I hadn’t bought the raisins +and oranges some months ago, when they were cheaper. I tell +you this because we are old friends, and I have nobody else to +tell my troubles to. But I don’t begrudge anything to +ye since you’ve come.’</p> +<p>‘I am not much pleased to come, even now,’ said +she. ‘What can make you so seriously anxious to see +me?’</p> +<p>‘Well, you be a good girl and true; and I’ve been +thinking that of all people of the next generation that I can +trust, you are the best. ’Tis my bonds and my +title-deeds, such as they be, and the leases, you know, and a few +guineas in packets, and more than these, my will, that I have to +speak about. Now do ye come this way.’</p> +<p>‘O, such things as those!’ she returned, with +surprise. ‘I don’t understand those things at +all.’</p> +<p>‘There’s nothing to understand. ’Tis +just this. The French will be here within two months; +that’s certain. I have it on the best authority, that +the army at Boulogne is ready, the boats equipped, the plans +laid, and the First Consul only waits for a tide. Heaven +knows what will become o’ the men o’ these +parts! But most likely the women will he spared. Now +I’ll show ’ee.’</p> +<p>He led her across the hall to a stone staircase of +semi-circular plan, which conducted to the cellars.</p> +<p>‘Down here?’ she said.</p> +<p>‘Yes; I must trouble ye to come down here. I have +thought and thought who is the woman that can best keep a secret +for six months, and I say, “Anne Garland.” You +won’t be married before then?’</p> +<p>‘O no!’ murmured the young woman.</p> +<p>‘I wouldn’t expect ye to keep a close tongue after +such a thing as that. But it will not be +necessary.’</p> +<p>When they reached the bottom of the steps he struck a light +from a tinder-box, and unlocked the middle one of three doors +which appeared in the whitewashed wall opposite. The rays +of the candle fell upon the vault and sides of a long low cellar, +littered with decayed woodwork from other parts of the hall, +among the rest stair-balusters, carved finials, tracery panels, +and wainscoting. But what most attracted her eye was a +small flagstone turned up in the middle of the floor, a heap of +earth beside it, and a measuring-tape. Derriman went to the +corner of the cellar, and pulled out a clamped box from under the +straw. ‘You be rather heavy, my dear, eh?’ he +said, affectionately addressing the box as he lifted it. +‘But you are going to be put in a safe place, you know, or +that rascal will get hold of ye, and carry ye off and ruin +me.’ He then with some difficulty lowered the box +into the hole, raked in the earth upon it, and lowered the +flagstone, which he was a long time in fixing to his +satisfaction. Miss Garland, who was romantically +interested, helped him to brush away the fragments of loose +earth; and when he had scattered over the floor a little of the +straw that lay about, they again ascended to upper air.</p> +<p>‘Is this all, sir?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Just a moment longer, honey. Will you come into +the great parlour?’</p> +<p>She followed him thither.</p> +<p>‘If anything happens to me while the fighting is going +on—it may be on these very fields—you will know what +to do,’ he resumed. ‘But first please sit down +again, there’s a dear, whilst I write what’s in my +head. See, there’s the best paper, and a new quill +that I’ve afforded myself for’t.’</p> +<p>‘What a strange business! I don’t think I +much like it, Mr. Derriman,’ she said, seating herself.</p> +<p>He had by this time begun to write, and murmured as he +wrote—</p> +<p>‘“Twenty-three and a half from N.W. Sixteen +and three-quarters from N.E.”—There, that’s +all. Now I seal it up and give it to you to keep safe till +I ask ye for it, or you hear of my being trampled down by the +enemy.’</p> +<p>‘What does it mean?’ she asked, as she received +the paper.</p> +<p>‘Clk! Ha! ha! Why, that’s the distance +of the box from the two corners of the cellar. I measured +it before you came. And, my honey, to make all sure, if the +French soldiery are after ye, tell your mother the meaning +on’t, or any other friend, in case they should put ye to +death, and the secret be lost. But that I am sure I hope +they won’t do, though your pretty face will be a sad bait +to the soldiers. I often have wished you was my daughter, +honey; and yet in these times the less cares a man has the +better, so I am glad you bain’t. Shall my man drive +you home?’</p> +<p>‘No, no,’ she said, much depressed by the words he +had uttered. ‘I can find my way. You need not +trouble to come down.’</p> +<p>‘Then take care of the paper. And if you outlive +me, you’ll find I have not forgot you.’</p> +<h2>XXV. FESTUS SHOWS HIS LOVE</h2> +<p>Festus Derriman had remained in the Royal watering-place all +that day, his horse being sick at stables; but, wishing to coax +or bully from his uncle a remount for the coming summer, he set +off on foot for Oxwell early in the evening. When he drew +near to the village, or rather to the hall, which was a mile from +the village, he overtook a slim, quick-eyed woman, sauntering +along at a leisurely pace. She was fashionably dressed in a +green spencer, with ‘Mameluke’ sleeves, and wore a +velvet Spanish hat and feather.</p> +<p>‘Good afternoon t’ye, ma’am,’ said +Festus, throwing a sword-and-pistol air into his greeting. +‘You are out for a walk?’</p> +<p>‘I <i>am</i> out for a walk, captain,’ said the +lady, who had criticized him from the crevice of her eye, without +seeming to do much more than continue her demure look forward, +and gave the title as a sop to his apparent character.</p> +<p>‘From the town?—I’d swear it, ma’am; +’pon my honour I would!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I am from the town, sir,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘Ah, you are a visitor! I know every one of the +regular inhabitants; we soldiers are in and out there +continually. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry Cavalry, you +know. The fact is, the watering-place is under our charge; +the folks will be quite dependent upon us for their deliverance +in the coming struggle. We hold our lives in our hands, and +theirs, I may say, in our pockets. What made you come here, +ma’am, at such a critical time?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t see that it is such a critical +time?’</p> +<p>‘But it is, though; and so you’d say if you was as +much mixed up with the military affairs of the nation as some of +us.’</p> +<p>The lady smiled. ‘The King is coming this year, +anyhow,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘Never!’ said Festus firmly. ‘Ah, you +are one of the attendants at court perhaps, come on ahead to get +the King’s chambers ready, in case Boney should not +land?’</p> +<p>‘No,’ she said; ‘I am connected with the +theatre, though not just at the present moment. I have been +out of luck for the last year or two; but I have fetched up +again. I join the company when they arrive for the +season.’</p> +<p>Festus surveyed her with interest. ‘Faith! and is +it so? Well, ma’am, what part do you play?’</p> +<p>‘I am mostly the leading lady—the heroine,’ +she said, drawing herself up with dignity.</p> +<p>‘I’ll come and have a look at ye if all’s +well, and the landing is put off—hang me if I +don’t!—Hullo, hullo, what do I see?’</p> +<p>His eyes were stretched towards a distant field, which Anne +Garland was at that moment hastily crossing, on her way from the +hall to Overcombe.</p> +<p>‘I must be off. Good-day to ye, dear +creature!’ he exclaimed, hurrying forward.</p> +<p>The lady said, ‘O, you droll monster!’ as she +smiled and watched him stride ahead.</p> +<p>Festus bounded on over the hedge, across the intervening patch +of green, and into the field which Anne was still crossing. +In a moment or two she looked back, and seeing the well-known +Herculean figure of the yeoman behind her felt rather alarmed, +though she determined to show no difference in her outward +carriage. But to maintain her natural gait was beyond her +powers. She spasmodically quickened her pace; fruitlessly, +however, for he gained upon her, and when within a few strides of +her exclaimed, ‘Well, my darling!’ Anne started +off at a run.</p> +<p>Festus was already out of breath, and soon found that he was +not likely to overtake her. On she went, without turning +her head, till an unusual noise behind compelled her to look +round. His face was in the act of falling back; he swerved +on one side, and dropped like a log upon a convenient +hedgerow-bank which bordered the path. There he lay quite +still.</p> +<p>Anne was somewhat alarmed; and after standing at gaze for two +or three minutes, drew nearer to him, a step and a half at a +time, wondering and doubting, as a meek ewe draws near to some +strolling vagabond who flings himself on the grass near the +flock.</p> +<p>‘He is in a swoon!’ she murmured.</p> +<p>Her heart beat quickly, and she looked around. Nobody +was in sight; she advanced a step nearer still and observed him +again. Apparently his face was turning to a livid hue, and +his breathing had become obstructed.</p> +<p>‘’Tis not a swoon; ’tis apoplexy!’ she +said, in deep distress. ‘I ought to untie his +neck.’ But she was afraid to do this, and only drew a +little closer still.</p> +<p>Miss Garland was now within three feet of him, whereupon the +senseless man, who could hold his breath no longer, sprang to his +feet and darted at her, saying, ‘Ha! ha! a scheme for a +kiss!’</p> +<p>She felt his arm slipping round her neck; but, twirling about +with amazing dexterity, she wriggled from his embrace and ran +away along the field. The force with which she had +extricated herself was sufficient to throw Festus upon the grass, +and by the time that he got upon his legs again she was many +yards off. Uttering a word which was not exactly a +blessing, he immediately gave chase; and thus they ran till Anne +entered a meadow divided down the middle by a brook about six +feet wide. A narrow plank was thrown loosely across at the +point where the path traversed this stream, and when Anne reached +it she at once scampered over. At the other side she turned +her head to gather the probabilities of the situation, which were +that Festus Derriman would overtake her even now. By a +sudden forethought she stooped, seized the end of the plank, and +endeavoured to drag it away from the opposite bank. But the +weight was too great for her to do more than slightly move it, +and with a desperate sigh she ran on again, having lost many +valuable seconds.</p> +<p>But her attempt, though ineffectual in dragging it down, had +been enough to unsettle the little bridge; and when Derriman +reached the middle, which he did half a minute later, the plank +turned over on its edge, tilting him bodily into the river. +The water was not remarkably deep, but as the yeoman fell flat on +his stomach he was completely immersed; and it was some time +before he could drag himself out. When he arose, dripping +on the bank, and looked around, Anne had vanished from the +mead. Then Festus’s eyes glowed like carbuncles, and +he gave voice to fearful imprecations, shaking his fist in the +soft summer air towards Anne, in a way that was terrible for any +maiden to behold. Wading back through the stream, he walked +along its bank with a heavy tread, the water running from his +coat-tails, wrists, and the tips of his ears, in silvery +dribbles, that sparkled pleasantly in the sun. Thus he +hastened away, and went round by a by-path to the hall.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the author of his troubles was rapidly drawing +nearer to the mill, and soon, to her inexpressible delight, she +saw Bob coming to meet her. She had heard the flounce, and, +feeling more secure from her pursuer, had dropped her pace to a +quick walk. No sooner did she reach Bob than, overcome by +the excitement of the moment, she flung herself into his +arms. Bob instantly enclosed her in an embrace so very +thorough that there was no possible danger of her falling, +whatever degree of exhaustion might have given rise to her +somewhat unexpected action; and in this attitude they silently +remained, till it was borne in upon Anne that the present was the +first time in her life that she had ever been in such a +position. Her face then burnt like a sunset, and she did +not know how to look up at him. Feeling at length quite +safe, she suddenly resolved not to give way to her first impulse +to tell him the whole of what had happened, lest there should be +a dreadful quarrel and fight between Bob and the yeoman, and +great difficulties caused in the Loveday family on her account, +the miller having important wheat transactions with the +Derrimans.</p> +<p>‘You seem frightened, dearest Anne,’ said Bob +tenderly.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I saw a man I did +not like the look of, and he was inclined to follow me. +But, worse than that, I am troubled about the French. O +Bob! I am afraid you will be killed, and my mother, and John, and +your father, and all of us hunted down!’</p> +<p>‘Now I have told you, dear little heart, that it cannot +be. We shall drive ’em into the sea after a battle or +two, even if they land, which I don’t believe they +will. We’ve got ninety sail of the line, and though +it is rather unfortunate that we should have declared war against +Spain at this ticklish time, there’s enough for +all.’ And Bob went into elaborate statistics of the +navy, army, militia, and volunteers, to prolong the time of +holding her. When he had done speaking he drew rather a +heavy sigh.</p> +<p>‘What’s the matter, Bob?’</p> +<p>‘I haven’t been yet to offer myself as a +sea-fencible, and I ought to have done it long ago.’</p> +<p>‘You are only one. Surely they can do without +you?’</p> +<p>Bob shook his head. She arose from her restful position, +her eye catching his with a shamefaced expression of having given +way at last. Loveday drew from his pocket a paper, and +said, as they slowly walked on, ‘Here’s something to +make us brave and patriotic. I bought it in Budmouth. +Isn’t it a stirring picture?’</p> +<p>It was a hieroglyphic profile of Napoleon. The hat +represented a maimed French eagle; the face was ingeniously made +up of human carcases, knotted and writhing together in such +directions as to form a physiognomy; a band, or stock, shaped to +resemble the English Channel, encircled his throat, and seemed to +choke him; his epaulette was a hand tearing a cobweb that +represented the treaty of peace with England; and his ear was a +woman crouching over a dying child. <a name="citation225"></a><a +href="#footnote225" class="citation">[225]</a></p> +<p>‘It is dreadful!’ said Anne. ‘I +don’t like to see it.’</p> +<p>She had recovered from her emotion, and walked along beside +him with a grave, subdued face. Bob did not like to assume +the privileges of an accepted lover and draw her hand through his +arm; for, conscious that she naturally belonged to a politer +grade than his own, he feared lest her exhibition of tenderness +were an impulse which cooler moments might regret. A +perfect Paul-and-Virginia life had not absolutely set in for him +as yet, and it was not to be hastened by force. When they +had passed over the bridge into the mill-front they saw the +miller standing at the door with a face of concern.</p> +<p>‘Since you have been gone,’ he said, ‘a +Government man has been here, and to all the houses, taking down +the numbers of the women and children, and their ages and the +number of horses and waggons that can be mustered, in case they +have to retreat inland, out of the way of the invading +army.’</p> +<p>The little family gathered themselves together, all feeling +the crisis more seriously than they liked to express. Mrs. +Loveday thought how ridiculous a thing social ambition was in +such a conjuncture as this, and vowed that she would leave Anne +to love where she would. Anne, too, forgot the little +peculiarities of speech and manner in Bob and his father, which +sometimes jarred for a moment upon her more refined sense, and +was thankful for their love and protection in this looming +trouble.</p> +<p>On going upstairs she remembered the paper which Farmer +Derriman had given her, and searched in her bosom for it. +She could not find it there. ‘I must have left it on +the table,’ she said to herself. It did not matter; +she remembered every word. She took a pen and wrote a +duplicate, which she put safely away.</p> +<p>But Anne was wrong. She had, after all, placed the paper +where she supposed, and there it ought to have been. But in +escaping from Festus, when he feigned apoplexy, it had fallen out +upon the grass. Five minutes after that event, when pursuer +and pursued were two or three fields ahead, the gaily-dressed +woman whom the yeoman had overtaken, peeped cautiously through +the stile into the corner of the field which had been the scene +of the scramble; and seeing the paper she climbed over, secured +it, loosened the wafer without tearing the sheet, and read the +memorandum within. Unable to make anything of its meaning, +the saunterer put it in her pocket, and, dismissing the matter +from her mind, went on by the by-path which led to the back of +the mill. Here, behind the hedge, she stood and surveyed +the old building for some time, after which she meditatively +turned, and retraced her steps towards the Royal +watering-place.</p> +<h2>XXVI. THE ALARM</h2> +<p>The night which followed was historic and memorable. +Mrs. Loveday was awakened by the boom of a distant gun: she told +the miller, and they listened awhile. The sound was not +repeated, but such was the state of their feelings that Mr. +Loveday went to Bob’s room and asked if he had heard +it. Bob was wide awake, looking out of the window; he had +heard the ominous sound, and was inclined to investigate the +matter. While the father and son were dressing they fancied +that a glare seemed to be rising in the sky in the direction of +the beacon hill. Not wishing to alarm Anne and her mother, +the miller assured them that Bob and himself were merely going +out of doors to inquire into the cause of the report, after which +they plunged into the gloom together. A few steps’ +progress opened up more of the sky, which, as they had thought, +was indeed irradiated by a lurid light; but whether it came from +the beacon or from a more distant point they were unable to +clearly tell. They pushed on rapidly towards higher +ground.</p> +<p>Their excitement was merely of a piece with that of all men at +this critical juncture. Everywhere expectation was at fever +heat. For the last year or two only five-and-twenty miles +of shallow water had divided quiet English homesteads from an +enemy’s army of a hundred and fifty thousand men. We +had taken the matter lightly enough, eating and drinking as in +the days of Noe, and singing satires without end. We punned +on Buonaparte and his gunboats, chalked his effigy on +stage-coaches, and published the same in prints. Still, +between these bursts of hilarity, it was sometimes recollected +that England was the only European country which had not +succumbed to the mighty little man who was less than human in +feeling, and more than human in will; that our spirit for +resistance was greater than our strength; and that the Channel +was often calm. Boats built of wood which was greenly +growing in its native forest three days before it was bent as +wales to their sides, were ridiculous enough; but they might be, +after all, sufficient for a single trip between two visible +shores.</p> +<p>The English watched Buonaparte in these preparations, and +Buonaparte watched the English. At the distance of Boulogne +details were lost, but we were impressed on fine days by the +novel sight of a huge army moving and twinkling like a school of +mackerel under the rays of the sun. The regular way of +passing an afternoon in the coast towns was to stroll up to the +signal posts and chat with the lieutenant on duty there about the +latest inimical object seen at sea. About once a week there +appeared in the newspapers either a paragraph concerning some +adventurous English gentleman who had sailed out in a +pleasure-boat till he lay near enough to Boulogne to see +Buonaparte standing on the heights among his marshals; or else +some lines about a mysterious stranger with a foreign accent, +who, after collecting a vast deal of information on our +resources, had hired a boat at a southern port, and vanished with +it towards France before his intention could be divined.</p> +<p>In forecasting his grand venture, Buonaparte postulated the +help of Providence to a remarkable degree. Just at the hour +when his troops were on board the flat-bottomed boats and ready +to sail, there was to be a great fog, that should spread a vast +obscurity over the length and breadth of the Channel, and keep +the English blind to events on the other side. The fog was +to last twenty-four hours, after which it might clear away. +A dead calm was to prevail simultaneously with the fog, with the +twofold object of affording the boats easy transit and dooming +our ships to lie motionless. Thirdly, there was to be a +spring tide, which should combine its manoeuvres with those of +the fog and calm.</p> +<p>Among the many thousands of minor Englishmen whose lives were +affected by these tremendous designs may be numbered our old +acquaintance Corporal Tullidge, who sported the crushed arm, and +poor old Simon Burden, the dazed veteran who had fought at +Minden. Instead of sitting snugly in the settle of the Old +Ship, in the village adjoining Overcombe, they were obliged to +keep watch on the hill. They made themselves as comfortable +as was possible in the circumstances, dwelling in a hut of clods +and turf, with a brick chimney for cooking. Here they +observed the nightly progress of the moon and stars, grew +familiar with the heaving of moles, the dancing of rabbits on the +hillocks, the distant hoot of owls, the bark of foxes from woods +further inland; but saw not a sign of the enemy. As, night +after night, they walked round the two ricks which it was their +duty to fire at a signal—one being of furze for a quick +flame, the other of turf, for a long, slow radiance—they +thought and talked of old times, and drank patriotically from a +large wood flagon that was filled every day.</p> +<p>Bob and his father soon became aware that the light was from +the beacon. By the time that they reached the top it was +one mass of towering flame, from which the sparks fell on the +green herbage like a fiery dew; the forms of the two old men +being seen passing and repassing in the midst of it. The +Lovedays, who came up on the smoky side, regarded the scene for a +moment, and then emerged into the light.</p> +<p>‘Who goes there?’ said Corporal Tullidge, +shouldering a pike with his sound arm. ‘O, ’tis +neighbour Loveday!’</p> +<p>‘Did you get your signal to fire it from the +east?’ said the miller hastily.</p> +<p>‘No; from Abbotsea Beach.’</p> +<p>‘But you are not to go by a coast signal!’</p> +<p>‘Chok’ it all, wasn’t the +Lord-Lieutenant’s direction, whenever you see +Rainbarrow’s Beacon burn to the nor’east’ard, +or Haggardon to the nor’west’ard, or the actual +presence of the enemy on the shore?’</p> +<p>‘But is he here?’</p> +<p>‘No doubt o’t! The beach light is only just +gone down, and Simon heard the guns even better than +I.’</p> +<p>‘Hark, hark! I hear ’em!’ said +Bob.</p> +<p>They listened with parted lips, the night wind blowing through +Simon Burden’s few teeth as through the ruins of +Stonehenge. From far down on the lower levels came the +noise of wheels and the tramp of horses upon the turnpike +road.</p> +<p>‘Well, there must be something in it,’ said Miller +Loveday gravely. ‘Bob, we’ll go home and make +the women-folk safe, and then I’ll don my soldier’s +clothes and be off. God knows where our company will +assemble!’</p> +<p>They hastened down the hill, and on getting into the road +waited and listened again. Travellers began to come up and +pass them in vehicles of all descriptions. It was difficult +to attract their attention in the dim light, but by standing on +the top of a wall which fenced the road Bob was at last seen.</p> +<p>‘What’s the matter?’ he cried to a butcher +who was flying past in his cart, his wife sitting behind him +without a bonnet.</p> +<p>‘The French have landed!’ said the man, without +drawing rein.</p> +<p>‘Where?’ shouted Bob.</p> +<p>‘In West Bay; and all Budmouth is in uproar!’ +replied the voice, now faint in the distance.</p> +<p>Bob and his father hastened on till they reached their own +house. As they had expected, Anne and her mother, in common +with most of the people, were both dressed, and stood at the door +bonneted and shawled, listening to the traffic on the +neighbouring highway, Mrs. Loveday having secured what money and +small valuables they possessed in a huge pocket which extended +all round her waist, and added considerably to her weight and +diameter.</p> +<p>‘’Tis true enough,’ said the miller: +‘he’s come! You and Anne and the maid must be +off to Cousin Jim’s at King’s-Bere, and when you get +there you must do as they do. I must assemble with the +company.’</p> +<p>‘And I?’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘Thou’st better run to the church, and take a pike +before they be all gone.’</p> +<p>The horse was put into the gig, and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and +the servant-maid were hastily packed into the vehicle, the latter +taking the reins; David’s duties as a fighting-man +forbidding all thought of his domestic offices now. Then +the silver tankard, teapot, pair of candlesticks like Ionic +columns, and other articles too large to be pocketed were thrown +into a basket and put up behind. Then came the +leave-taking, which was as sad as it was hurried. Bob +kissed Anne, and there was no affectation in her receiving that +mark of affection as she said through her tears, ‘God bless +you!’ At last they moved off in the dim light of +dawn, neither of the three women knowing which road they were to +take, but trusting to chance to find it.</p> +<p>As soon as they were out of sight Bob went off for a pike, and +his father, first new-flinting his firelock, proceeded to don his +uniform, pipe-claying his breeches with such cursory haste as to +bespatter his black gaiters with the same ornamental +compound. Finding when he was ready that no bugle had as +yet sounded, he went with David to the cart-house, dragged out +the waggon, and put therein some of the most useful and +easily-handled goods, in case there might be an opportunity for +conveying them away. By the time this was done and the +waggon pushed back and locked in, Bob had returned with his +weapon, somewhat mortified at being doomed to this low form of +defence. The miller gave his son a parting grasp of the +hand, and arranged to meet him at King’s-Bere at the first +opportunity if the news were true; if happily false, here at +their own house.</p> +<p>‘Bother it all!’ he exclaimed, looking at his +stock of flints.</p> +<p>‘What?’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘I’ve got no ammunition: not a blessed +round!’</p> +<p>‘Then what’s the use of going?’ asked his +son.</p> +<p>The miller paused. ‘O, I’ll go,’ he +said. ‘Perhaps somebody will lend me a little if I +get into a hot corner?’</p> +<p>‘Lend ye a little! Father, you was always so +simple!’ said Bob reproachfully.</p> +<p>‘Well—I can bagnet a few, anyhow,’ said the +miller.</p> +<p>The bugle had been blown ere this, and Loveday the father +disappeared towards the place of assembly, his empty +cartridge-box behind him. Bob seized a brace of loaded +pistols which he had brought home from the ship, and, armed with +these and a pike, he locked the door and sallied out again +towards the turnpike road.</p> +<p>By this time the yeomanry of the district were also on the +move, and among them Festus Derriman, who was sleeping at his +uncle’s, and had been awakened by Cripplestraw. About +the time when Bob and his father were descending from the beacon +the stalwart yeoman was standing in the stable-yard adjusting his +straps, while Cripplestraw saddled the horse. Festus +clanked up and down, looked gloomily at the beacon, heard the +retreating carts and carriages, and called Cripplestraw to him, +who came from the stable leading the horse at the same moment +that Uncle Benjy peeped unobserved from a mullioned window above +their heads, the distant light of the beacon fire touching up his +features to the complexion of an old brass clock-face.</p> +<p>‘I think that before I start, Cripplestraw,’ said +Festus, whose lurid visage was undergoing a bleaching process +curious to look upon, ‘you shall go on to Budmouth, and +make a bold inquiry whether the cowardly enemy is on shore as +yet, or only looming in the bay.’</p> +<p>‘I’d go in a moment, sir,’ said the other, +‘if I hadn’t my bad leg again. I should have +joined my company afore this; but they said at last drill that I +was too old. So I shall wait up in the hay-loft for tidings +as soon as I have packed you off, poor gentleman!’</p> +<p>‘Do such alarms as these, Cripplestraw, ever happen +without foundation? Buonaparte is a wretch, a miserable +wretch, and this may be only a false alarm to disappoint such as +me?’</p> +<p>‘O no, sir; O no!’</p> +<p>‘But sometimes there are false alarms?’</p> +<p>‘Well, sir, yes. There was a pretended sally +o’ gunboats last year.’</p> +<p>‘And was there nothing else pretended—something +more like this, for instance?’</p> +<p>Cripplestraw shook his head. ‘I notice yer +modesty, Mr. Festus, in making light of things. But there +never was, sir. You may depend upon it he’s +come. Thank God, my duty as a Local don’t require me +to go to the front, but only the valiant men like my +master. Ah, if Boney could only see ’ee now, sir, +he’d know too well there is nothing to be got from such a +determined skilful officer but blows and musket-balls!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes. Cripplestraw, if I ride off to Budmouth +and meet ’em, all my training will be lost. No skill +is required as a forlorn hope.’</p> +<p>‘True; that’s a point, sir. You would +outshine ’em all, and be picked off at the very beginning +as a too-dangerous brave man.’</p> +<p>‘But if I stay here and urge on the faint-hearted ones, +or get up into the turret-stair by that gateway, and pop at the +invaders through the loophole, I shouldn’t be so completely +wasted, should I?’</p> +<p>‘You would not, Mr. Derriman. But, as you was +going to say next, the fire in yer veins won’t let ye do +that. You are valiant; very good: you don’t want to +husband yer valiance at home. The arg’ment is +plain.’</p> +<p>‘If my birth had been more obscure,’ murmured the +yeoman, ‘and I had only been in the militia, for instance, +or among the humble pikemen, so much wouldn’t have been +expected of me—of my fiery nature. Cripplestraw, is +there a drop of brandy to be got at in the house? I +don’t feel very well.’</p> +<p>‘Dear nephew,’ said the old gentleman from above, +whom neither of the others had as yet noticed, ‘I +haven’t any spirits opened—so unfortunate! But +there’s a beautiful barrel of crab-apple cider in draught; +and there’s some cold tea from last night.’</p> +<p>‘What, is he listening?’ said Festus, staring +up. ‘Now I warrant how glad he is to see me forced to +go—called out of bed without breakfast, and he quite safe, +and sure to escape because he’s an old +man!—Cripplestraw, I like being in the yeomanry cavalry; +but I wish I hadn’t been in the ranks; I wish I had been +only the surgeon, to stay in the rear while the bodies are +brought back to him—I mean, I should have thrown my heart +at such a time as this more into the labour of restoring wounded +men and joining their shattered limbs +together—u-u-ugh!—more than I can into causing the +wounds—I am too humane, Cripplestraw, for the +ranks!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ said his companion, depressing his +spirits to a kindred level. ‘And yet, such is fate, +that, instead of joining men’s limbs together, you’ll +have to get your own joined—poor young sojer!—all +through having such a warlike soul.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ murmured Festus, and paused. +‘You can’t think how strange I feel here, +Cripplestraw,’ he continued, laying his hand upon the +centre buttons of his waistcoat. ‘How I do wish I was +only the surgeon!’</p> +<p>He slowly mounted, and Uncle Benjy, in the meantime, sang to +himself as he looked on, ‘<i>Twen-ty-three and half from +N.W.</i> <i>Six-teen and three-quar-ters from +N.E.</i>’</p> +<p>‘What’s that old mummy singing?’ said Festus +savagely.</p> +<p>‘Only a hymn for preservation from our enemies, dear +nephew,’ meekly replied the farmer, who had heard the +remark. ‘<i>Twen-ty-three and half from +N.W</i>.’</p> +<p>Festus allowed his horse to move on a few paces, and then +turned again, as if struck by a happy invention. +‘Cripplestraw,’ he began, with an artificial laugh, +‘I am obliged to confess, after all—I must see +her! ’Tisn’t nature that makes me draw +back—’tis love. I must go and look for +her.’</p> +<p>‘A woman, sir?’</p> +<p>‘I didn’t want to confess it; but ’tis a +woman. Strange that I should be drawn so entirely against +my natural wish to rush at ’em!’</p> +<p>Cripplestraw, seeing which way the wind blew, found it +advisable to blow in harmony. ‘Ah, now at last I see, +sir! Spite that few men live that be worthy to command ye; +spite that you could rush on, marshal the troops to victory, as I +may say; but then—what of it? there’s the unhappy +fate of being smit with the eyes of a woman, and you are +unmanned! Maister Derriman, who is himself, when he’s +got a woman round his neck like a millstone?’</p> +<p>‘It is something like that.’</p> +<p>‘I feel the case. Be you valiant?—I know, of +course, the words being a matter of form—be you valiant, I +ask? Yes, of course. Then don’t you waste it in +the open field. Hoard it up, I say, sir, for a higher class +of war—the defence of yer adorable lady. Think what +you owe her at this terrible time! Now, Maister Derriman, +once more I ask ye to cast off that first haughty wish to rush to +Budmouth, and to go where your mis’ess is defenceless and +alone.’</p> +<p>‘I will, Cripplestraw, now you put it like +that!’</p> +<p>‘Thank ye, thank ye heartily, Maister Derriman. Go +now and hide with her.’</p> +<p>‘But can I? Now, hang flattery!—can a man +hide without a stain? Of course I would not hide in any +mean sense; no, not I!’</p> +<p>‘If you be in love, ’tis plain you may, since it +is not your own life, but another’s, that you are concerned +for, and you only save your own because it can’t be +helped.’</p> +<p>‘’Tis true, Cripplestraw, in a sense. But +will it be understood that way? Will they see it as a brave +hiding?’</p> +<p>‘Now, sir, if you had not been in love I own to ye that +hiding would look queer, but being to save the tears, groans, +fits, swowndings, and perhaps death of a comely young woman, yer +principle is good; you honourably retreat because you be too +gallant to advance. This sounds strange, ye may say, sir; +but it is plain enough to less fiery minds.’</p> +<p>Festus did for a moment try to uncover his teeth in a natural +smile, but it died away. ‘Cripplestraw, you flatter +me; or do you mean it? Well, there’s truth in +it. I am more gallant in going to her than in marching to +the shore. But we cannot be too careful about our good +names, we soldiers. I must not be seen. I’m +off.’</p> +<p>Cripplestraw opened the hurdle which closed the arch under the +portico gateway, and Festus passed under, Uncle Benjamin singing, +<i>Twen-ty-three and a half from N.W.</i> with a sort of sublime +ecstasy, feeling, as Festus had observed, that his money was +safe, and that the French would not personally molest an old man +in such a ragged, mildewed coat as that he wore, which he had +taken the precaution to borrow from a scarecrow in one of his +fields for the purpose.</p> +<p>Festus rode on full of his intention to seek out Anne, and +under cover of protecting her retreat accompany her to +King’s-Bere, where he knew the Lovedays had +relatives. In the lane he met Granny Seamore, who, having +packed up all her possessions in a small basket, was placidly +retreating to the mountains till all should be over.</p> +<p>‘Well, granny, have ye seen the French?’ asked +Festus.</p> +<p>‘No,’ she said, looking up at him through her +brazen spectacles. ‘If I had I shouldn’t +ha’ seed thee!’</p> +<p>‘Faugh!’ replied the yeoman, and rode on. +Just as he reached the old road, which he had intended merely to +cross and avoid, his countenance fell. Some troops of +regulars, who appeared to be dragoons, were rattling along the +road. Festus hastened towards an opposite gate, so as to +get within the field before they should see him; but, as ill-luck +would have it, as soon as he got inside, a party of six or seven +of his own yeomanry troop were straggling across the same field +and making for the spot where he was. The dragoons passed +without seeing him; but when he turned out into the road again it +was impossible to retreat towards Overcombe village because of +the yeomen. So he rode straight on, and heard them coming +at his heels. There was no other gate, and the highway soon +became as straight as a bowstring. Unable thus to turn +without meeting them, and caught like an eel in a water-pipe, +Festus drew nearer and nearer to the fateful shore. But he +did not relinquish hope. Just ahead there were cross-roads, +and he might have a chance of slipping down one of them without +being seen. On reaching the spot he found that he was not +alone. A horseman had come up the right-hand lane and drawn +rein. It was an officer of the German legion, and seeing +Festus he held up his hand. Festus rode up to him and +saluted.</p> +<p>‘It ist false report!’ said the officer.</p> +<p>Festus was a man again. He felt that nothing was too +much for him. The officer, after some explanation of the +cause of alarm, said that he was going across to the road which +led by the moor, to stop the troops and volunteers converging +from that direction, upon which Festus offered to give +information along the Casterbridge road. The German crossed +over, and was soon out of sight in the lane, while Festus turned +back upon the way by which he had come. The party of +yeomanry cavalry was rapidly drawing near, and he soon recognized +among them the excited voices of Stubb of Duddle Hole, Noakes of +Muckleford, and other comrades of his orgies at the hall. +It was a magnificent opportunity, and Festus drew his +sword. When they were within speaking distance he reined +round his charger’s head to Budmouth and shouted, +‘On, comrades, on! I am waiting for you. You +have been a long time getting up with me, seeing the glorious +nature of our deeds to-day!’</p> +<p>‘Well said, Derriman, well said!’ replied the +foremost of the riders. ‘Have you heard anything +new?’</p> +<p>‘Only that he’s here with his tens of thousands, +and that we are to ride to meet him sword in hand as soon as we +have assembled in the town ahead here.’</p> +<p>‘O Lord!’ said Noakes, with a slight falling of +the lower jaw.</p> +<p>‘The man who quails now is unworthy of the name of +yeoman,’ said Festus, still keeping ahead of the other +troopers and holding up his sword to the sun. ‘O +Noakes, fie, fie! You begin to look pale, man.’</p> +<p>‘Faith, perhaps you’d look pale,’ said +Noakes, with an envious glance upon Festus’s daring manner, +‘if you had a wife and family depending upon ye!’</p> +<p>‘I’ll take three frog-eating Frenchmen +single-handed!’ rejoined Derriman, still flourishing his +sword.</p> +<p>‘They have as good swords as you; as you will soon +find,’ said another of the yeomen.</p> +<p>‘If they were three times armed,’ said +Festus—‘ay, thrice three times—I would attempt +’em three to one. How do you feel now, my old friend +Stubb?’ (turning to another of the warriors.) +‘O, friend Stubb! no bouncing health to our lady-loves in +Oxwell Hall this summer as last. Eh, Brownjohn?’</p> +<p>‘I am afraid not,’ said Brownjohn gloomily.</p> +<p>‘No rattling dinners at Stacie’s Hotel, and the +King below with his staff. No wrenching off door-knockers +and sending ’em to the bakehouse in a pie that nobody calls +for. Weeks of cut-and-thrust work rather!’</p> +<p>‘I suppose so.’</p> +<p>‘Fight how we may we shan’t get rid of the cursed +tyrant before autumn, and many thousand brave men will lie low +before it’s done,’ remarked a young yeoman with a +calm face, who meant to do his duty without much talking.</p> +<p>‘No grinning matches at Mai-dun Castle this +summer,’ Festus resumed; ‘no thread-the-needle at +Greenhill Fair, and going into shows and driving the showman +crazy with cock-a-doodle-doo!’</p> +<p>‘I suppose not.’</p> +<p>‘Does it make you seem just a trifle uncomfortable, +Noakes? Keep up your spirits, old comrade. Come, +forward! we are only ambling on like so many donkey-women. +We have to get into Budmouth, join the rest of the troop, and +then march along the coast west’ard, as I imagine. At +this rate we shan’t be well into the thick of battle before +twelve o’clock. Spur on, comrades. No dancing +on the green, Lockham, this year in the moonlight! You was +tender upon that girl; gad, what will become o’ her in the +struggle?’</p> +<p>‘Come, come, Derriman,’ expostulated +Lockham—‘this is all very well, but I don’t +care for ‘t. I am as ready to fight as any man, +but—’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps when you get into battle, Derriman, and see +what it’s like, your courage will cool down a +little,’ added Noakes on the same side, but with secret +admiration of Festus’s reckless bravery.</p> +<p>‘I shall be bayoneted first,’ said Festus. +‘Now let’s rally, and on!’</p> +<p>Since Festus was determined to spur on wildly, the rest of the +yeomen did not like to seem behindhand, and they rapidly +approached the town. Had they been calm enough to reflect, +they might have observed that for the last half-hour no carts or +carriages had met them on the way, as they had done further +back. It was not till the troopers reached the turnpike +that they learnt what Festus had known a quarter of an hour +before. At the intelligence Derriman sheathed his sword +with a sigh; and the party soon fell in with comrades who had +arrived there before them, whereupon the source and details of +the alarm were boisterously discussed.</p> +<p>‘What, didn’t you know of the mistake till +now?’ asked one of these of the new-comers. +‘Why, when I was dropping over the hill by the cross-roads +I looked back and saw that man talking to the messenger, and he +must have told him the truth.’ The speaker pointed to +Festus. They turned their indignant eyes full upon +him. That he had sported with their deepest feelings, while +knowing the rumour to be baseless, was soon apparent to all.</p> +<p>‘Beat him black and blue with the flat of our +blades!’ shouted two or three, turning their horses’ +heads to drop back upon Derriman, in which move they were +followed by most of the party.</p> +<p>But Festus, foreseeing danger from the unexpected revelation, +had already judiciously placed a few intervening yards between +himself and his fellow-yeomen, and now, clapping spurs to his +horse, rattled like thunder and lightning up the road +homeward. His ready flight added hotness to their pursuit, +and as he rode and looked fearfully over his shoulder he could +see them following with enraged faces and drawn swords, a +position which they kept up for a distance of more than a +mile. Then he had the satisfaction of seeing them drop off +one by one, and soon he and his panting charger remained alone on +the highway.</p> +<h2>XXVII. DANGER TO ANNE</h2> +<p>He stopped and reflected how to turn this rebuff to +advantage. Baulked in his project of entering the +watering-place and enjoying congratulations upon his patriotic +bearing during the advance, he sulkily considered that he might +be able to make some use of his enforced retirement by riding to +Overcombe and glorifying himself in the eyes of Miss Garland +before the truth should have reached that hamlet. Having +thus decided he spurred on in a better mood.</p> +<p>By this time the volunteers were on the march, and as Derriman +ascended the road he met the Overcombe company, in which trudged +Miller Loveday shoulder to shoulder with the other substantial +householders of the place and its neighbourhood, duly equipped +with pouches, cross-belts, firelocks, flint-boxes, pickers, +worms, magazines, priming-horns, heel-ball, and pomatum. +There was nothing to be gained by further suppression of the +truth, and briefly informing them that the danger was not so +immediate as had been supposed, Festus galloped on. At the +end of another mile he met a large number of pikemen, including +Bob Loveday, whom the yeoman resolved to sound upon the +whereabouts of Anne. The circumstances were such as to lead +Bob to speak more frankly than he might have done on reflection, +and he told Festus the direction in which the women had been +sent. Then Festus informed the group that the report of +invasion was false, upon which they all turned to go homeward +with greatly relieved spirits.</p> +<p>Bob walked beside Derriman’s horse for some +distance. Loveday had instantly made up his mind to go and +look for the women, and ease their anxiety by letting them know +the good news as soon as possible. But he said nothing of +this to Festus during their return together; nor did Festus tell +Bob that he also had resolved to seek them out, and by +anticipating every one else in that enterprise, make of it a +glorious opportunity for bringing Miss Garland to her senses +about him. He still resented the ducking that he had +received at her hands, and was not disposed to let that insult +pass without obtaining some sort of sweet revenge.</p> +<p>As soon as they had parted Festus cantered on over the hill, +meeting on his way the Longpuddle volunteers, sixty rank and +file, under Captain Cunningham; the Casterbridge company, ninety +strong (known as the ‘Consideration Company’ in those +days), under Captain Strickland; and others—all with +anxious faces and covered with dust. Just passing the word +to them and leaving them at halt, he proceeded rapidly onward in +the direction of King’s-Bere. Nobody appeared on the +road for some time, till after a ride of several miles he met a +stray corporal of volunteers, who told Festus in answer to his +inquiry that he had certainly passed no gig full of women of the +kind described. Believing that he had missed them by +following the highway, Derriman turned back into a lane along +which they might have chosen to journey for privacy’s sake, +notwithstanding the badness and uncertainty of its track. +Arriving again within five miles of Overcombe, he at length heard +tidings of the wandering vehicle and its precious burden, which, +like the Ark when sent away from the country of the Philistines, +had apparently been left to the instincts of the beast that drew +it. A labouring man, just at daybreak, had seen the +helpless party going slowly up a distant drive, which he pointed +out.</p> +<p>No sooner had Festus parted from this informant than he beheld +Bob approaching, mounted on the miller’s second and heavier +horse. Bob looked rather surprised, and Festus felt his +coming glory in danger.</p> +<p>‘They went down that lane,’ he said, signifying +precisely the opposite direction to the true one. ‘I, +too, have been on the look-out for missing friends.’</p> +<p>As Festus was riding back there was no reason to doubt his +information, and Loveday rode on as misdirected. +Immediately that he was out of sight Festus reversed his course, +and followed the track which Anne and her companions were last +seen to pursue.</p> +<p>This road had been ascended by the gig in question nearly two +hours before the present moment. Molly, the servant, held +the reins, Mrs. Loveday sat beside her, and Anne behind. +Their progress was but slow, owing partly to Molly’s want +of skill, and partly to the steepness of the road, which here +passed over downs of some extent, and was rarely or never +mended. It was an anxious morning for them all, and the +beauties of the early summer day fell upon unheeding eyes. +They were too anxious even for conjecture, and each sat thinking +her own thoughts, occasionally glancing westward, or stopping the +horse to listen to sounds from more frequented roads along which +other parties were retreating. Once, while they listened +and gazed thus, they saw a glittering in the distance, and heard +the tramp of many horses. It was a large body of cavalry +going in the direction of the King’s watering-place, the +same regiment of dragoons, in fact, which Festus had seen further +on in its course. The women in the gig had no doubt that +these men were marching at once to engage the enemy. By way +of varying the monotony of the journey Molly occasionally burst +into tears of horror, believing Buonaparte to be in countenance +and habits precisely what the caricatures represented him. +Mrs. Loveday endeavoured to establish cheerfulness by assuring +her companions of the natural civility of the French nation, with +whom unprotected women were safe from injury, unless through the +casual excesses of soldiery beyond control. This was poor +consolation to Anne, whose mind was more occupied with Bob than +with herself, and a miserable fear that she would never again see +him alive so paled her face and saddened her gaze forward, that +at last her mother said, ‘Who was you thinking of, my +dear?’ Anne’s only reply was a look at her +mother, with which a tear mingled.</p> +<p>Molly whipped the horse, by which she quickened his pace for +five yards, when he again fell into the perverse slowness that +showed how fully conscious he was of being the master-mind and +chief personage of the four. Whenever there was a pool of +water by the road he turned aside to drink a mouthful, and +remained there his own time in spite of Molly’s tug at the +reins and futile fly-flapping on his rump. They were now in +the chalk district, where there were no hedges, and a rough +attempt at mending the way had been made by throwing down huge +lumps of that glaring material in heaps, without troubling to +spread it or break them abroad. The jolting here was most +distressing, and seemed about to snap the springs.</p> +<p>‘How that wheel do wamble,’ said Molly at +last. She had scarcely spoken when the wheel came off, and +all three were precipitated over it into the road.</p> +<p>Fortunately the horse stood still, and they began to gather +themselves up. The only one of the three who had suffered +in the least from the fall was Anne, and she was only conscious +of a severe shaking which had half stupefied her for the +time. The wheel lay flat in the road, so that there was no +possibility of driving further in their present plight. +They looked around for help. The only friendly object near +was a lonely cottage, from its situation evidently the home of a +shepherd.</p> +<p>The horse was unharnessed and tied to the back of the gig, and +the three women went across to the house. On getting close +they found that the shutters of all the lower windows were +closed, but on trying the door it opened to the hand. +Nobody was within; the house appeared to have been abandoned in +some confusion, and the probability was that the shepherd had +fled on hearing the alarm. Anne now said that she felt the +effects of her fall too severely to be able to go any further +just then, and it was agreed that she should be left there while +Mrs. Loveday and Molly went on for assistance, the elder lady +deeming Molly too young and vacant-minded to be trusted to go +alone. Molly suggested taking the horse, as the distance +might be great, each of them sitting alternately on his back +while the other led him by the head. This they did, Anne +watching them vanish down the white and lumpy road.</p> +<p>She then looked round the room, as well as she could do so by +the light from the open door. It was plain, from the +shutters being closed, that the shepherd had left his house +before daylight, the candle and extinguisher on the table +pointing to the same conclusion. Here she remained, her +eyes occasionally sweeping the bare, sunny expanse of down, that +was only relieved from absolute emptiness by the overturned gig +hard by. The sheep seemed to have gone away, and scarcely a +bird flew across to disturb the solitude. Anne had risen +early that morning, and leaning back in the withy chair, which +she had placed by the door, she soon fell into an uneasy doze, +from which she was awakened by the distant tramp of a +horse. Feeling much recovered from the effects of the +overturn, she eagerly rose and looked out. The horse was +not Miller Loveday’s, but a powerful bay, bearing a man in +full yeomanry uniform.</p> +<p>Anne did not wait to recognize further; instantly re-entering +the house, she shut the door and bolted it. In the dark she +sat and listened: not a sound. At the end of ten minutes, +thinking that the rider if he were not Festus had carelessly +passed by, or that if he were Festus he had not seen her, she +crept softly upstairs and peeped out of the window. +Excepting the spot of shade, formed by the gig as before, the +down was quite bare. She then opened the casement and +stretched out her neck.</p> +<p>‘Ha, young madam! There you are! I knew +’ee! Now you are caught!’ came like a clap of +thunder from a point three or four feet beneath her, and turning +down her frightened eyes she beheld Festus Derriman lurking close +to the wall. His attention had first been attracted by her +shutting the door of the cottage; then by the overturned gig; and +after making sure, by examining the vehicle, that he was not +mistaken in her identity, he had dismounted, led his horse round +to the side, and crept up to entrap her.</p> +<p>Anne started back into the room, and remained still as a +stone. Festus went on—‘Come, you must trust to +me. The French have landed. I have been trying to +meet with you every hour since that confounded trick you played +me. You threw me into the water. Faith, it was well +for you I didn’t catch ye then! I should have taken a +revenge in a better way than I shall now. I mean to have +that kiss of ye. Come, Miss Nancy; do you +hear?—’Tis no use for you to lurk inside there. +You’ll have to turn out as soon as Boney comes over the +hill—Are you going to open the door, I say, and speak to me +in a civil way? What do you think I am, then, that you +should barricade yourself against me as if I was a wild beast or +Frenchman? Open the door, or put out your head, or do +something; or ’pon my soul I’ll break in the +door!’</p> +<p>It occurred to Anne at this point of the tirade that the best +policy would be to temporize till somebody should return, and she +put out her head and face, now grown somewhat pale.</p> +<p>‘That’s better,’ said Festus. +‘Now I can talk to you. Come, my dear, will you open +the door? Why should you be afraid of me?’</p> +<p>‘I am not altogether afraid of you; I am safe from the +French here,’ said Anne, not very truthfully, and anxiously +casting her eyes over the vacant down.</p> +<p>‘Then let me tell you that the alarm is false, and that +no landing has been attempted. Now will you open the door +and let me in? I am tired. I have been on horseback +ever since daylight, and have come to bring you the good +tidings.’</p> +<p>Anne looked as if she doubted the news.</p> +<p>‘Come,’ said Festus.</p> +<p>‘No, I cannot let you in,’ she murmured, after a +pause.</p> +<p>‘Dash my wig, then,’ he cried, his face flaming +up, ‘I’ll find a way to get in! Now, +don’t you provoke me! You don’t know what I am +capable of. I ask you again, will you open the +door?’</p> +<p>‘Why do you wish it?’ she said faintly.</p> +<p>‘I have told you I want to sit down; and I want to ask +you a question.’</p> +<p>‘You can ask me from where you are.’</p> +<p>‘I cannot ask you properly. It is about a serious +matter: whether you will accept my heart and hand. I am not +going to throw myself at your feet; but I ask you to do your duty +as a woman, namely, give your solemn word to take my name as soon +as the war is over and I have time to attend to you. I +scorn to ask it of a haughty hussy who will only speak to me +through a window; however, I put it to you for the last time, +madam.’</p> +<p>There was no sign on the down of anybody’s return, and +she said, ‘I’ll think of it, sir.’</p> +<p>‘You have thought of it long enough; I want to +know. Will you or won’t you?’</p> +<p>‘Very well; I think I will.’ And then she +felt that she might be buying personal safety too dearly by +shuffling thus, since he would spread the report that she had +accepted him, and cause endless complication. +‘No,’ she said, ‘I have changed my mind. +I cannot accept you, Mr. Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘That’s how you play with me!’ he exclaimed, +stamping. ‘“Yes,” one moment; +“No,” the next. Come, you don’t know what +you refuse. That old hall is my uncle’s own, and he +has nobody else to leave it to. As soon as he’s dead +I shall throw up farming and start as a squire. And +now,’ he added with a bitter sneer, ‘what a fool you +are to hang back from such a chance!’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, I don’t value it,’ said +Anne.</p> +<p>‘Because you hate him who would make it +yours?’</p> +<p>‘It may not lie in your power to do that.’</p> +<p>‘What—has the old fellow been telling you his +affairs?’</p> +<p>‘No.’</p> +<p>‘Then why do you mistrust me? Now, after this will +you open the door, and show that you treat me as a friend if you +won’t accept me as a lover? I only want to sit and +talk to you.’</p> +<p>Anne thought she would trust him; it seemed almost impossible +that he could harm her. She retired from the window and +went downstairs. When her hand was upon the bolt of the +door, her mind misgave her. Instead of withdrawing it she +remained in silence where she was, and he began again—</p> +<p>‘Are you going to unfasten it?’</p> +<p>Anne did not speak.</p> +<p>‘Now, dash my wig, I will get at you! You’ve +tried me beyond endurance. One kiss would have been enough +that day in the mead; now I’ll have forty, whether you will +or no!’</p> +<p>He flung himself against the door; but as it was bolted, and +had in addition a great wooden bar across it, this produced no +effect. He was silent for a moment, and then the terrified +girl heard him attempt the shuttered window. She ran +upstairs and again scanned the down. The yellow gig still +lay in the blazing sunshine, and the horse of Festus stood by the +corner of the garden—nothing else was to be seen. At +this moment there came to her ear the noise of a sword drawn from +its scabbard; and, peeping over the window-sill, she saw her +tormentor drive his sword between the joints of the shutters, in +an attempt to rip them open. The sword snapped off in his +hand. With an imprecation he pulled out the piece, and +returned the two halves to the scabbard.</p> +<p>‘Ha! ha!’ he cried, catching sight of the top of +her head. ‘’Tis only a joke, you know; but +I’ll get in all the same. All for a kiss! But +never mind, we’ll do it yet!’ He spoke in an +affectedly light tone, as if ashamed of his previous resentful +temper; but she could see by the livid back of his neck that he +was brimful of suppressed passion. ‘Only a jest, you +know,’ he went on. ‘How are we going to do it +now? Why, in this way. I go and get a ladder, and +enter at the upper window where my love is. And +there’s the ladder lying under that corn-rick in the first +enclosed field. Back in two minutes, dear!’</p> +<p>He ran off, and was lost to her view.</p> +<h2>XXVIII. ANNE DOES WONDERS</h2> +<p>Anne fearfully surveyed her position. The upper windows +of the cottage were of flimsiest lead-work, and to keep him out +would be hopeless. She felt that not a moment was to be +lost in getting away. Running downstairs she opened the +door, and then it occurred to her terrified understanding that +there would be no chance of escaping him by flight afoot across +such an extensive down, since he might mount his horse and easily +ride after her. The animal still remained tethered at the +corner of the garden; if she could release him and frighten him +away before Festus returned, there would not be quite such odds +against her. She accordingly unhooked the horse by reaching +over the bank, and then, pulling off her muslin neckerchief, +flapped it in his eyes to startle him. But the gallant +steed did not move or flinch; she tried again, and he seemed +rather pleased than otherwise. At this moment she heard a +cry from the cottage, and turning, beheld her adversary +approaching round the corner of the building.</p> +<p>‘I thought I should tole out the mouse by that +trick!’ cried Festus exultingly. Instead of going for +a ladder, he had simply hidden himself at the back to tempt her +down.</p> +<p>Poor Anne was now desperate. The bank on which she stood +was level with the horse’s back, and the creature seemed +quiet as a lamb. With a determination of which she was +capable in emergencies, she seized the rein, flung herself upon +the sheepskin, and held on by the mane. The amazed charger +lifted his head, sniffed, wrenched his ears hither and thither, +and started off at a frightful speed across the down.</p> +<p>‘O, my heart and limbs!’ said Festus under his +breath, as, thoroughly alarmed, he gazed after her. +‘She on Champion! She’ll break her neck, and I +shall be tried for manslaughter, and disgrace will be brought +upon the name of Derriman!’</p> +<p>Champion continued to go at a stretch-gallop, but he did +nothing worse. Had he plunged or reared, Derriman’s +fears might have been verified, and Anne have come with deadly +force to the ground. But the course was good, and in the +horse’s speed lay a comparative security. She was +scarcely shaken in her precarious half-horizontal position, +though she was awed to see the grass, loose stones, and other +objects pass her eyes like strokes whenever she opened them, +which was only just for a second at intervals of half a minute; +and to feel how wildly the stirrups swung, and that what struck +her knee was the bucket of the carbine, and that it was a +pistol-holster which hurt her arm.</p> +<p>They quickly cleared the down, and Anne became conscious that +the course of the horse was homeward. As soon as the ground +began to rise towards the outer belt of upland which lay between +her and the coast, Champion, now panting and reeking with +moisture, lessened his speed in sheer weariness, and proceeded at +a rapid jolting trot. Anne felt that she could not hold on +half so well; the gallop had been child’s play compared +with this. They were in a lane, ascending to a ridge, and +she made up her mind for a fall. Over the ridge rose an +animated spot, higher and higher; it turned out to be the upper +part of a man, and the man to be a soldier. Such was +Anne’s attitude that she only got an occasional glimpse of +him; and, though she feared that he might be a Frenchman, she +feared the horse more than the enemy, as she had feared Festus +more than the horse. Anne had energy enough left to cry, +‘Stop him; stop him!’ as the soldier drew near.</p> +<p>He, astonished at the sight of a military horse with a bundle +of drapery across his back, had already placed himself in the +middle of the lane, and he now held out his arms till his figure +assumed the form of a Latin cross planted in the roadway. +Champion drew near, swerved, and stood still almost suddenly, a +check sufficient to send Anne slipping down his flank to the +ground. The timely friend stepped forward and helped her to +her feet, when she saw that he was John Loveday.</p> +<p>‘Are you hurt?’ he said hastily, having turned +quite pale at seeing her fall.</p> +<p>‘O no; not a bit,’ said Anne, gathering herself up +with forced briskness, to make light of the misadventure.</p> +<p>‘But how did you get in such a place?’</p> +<p>‘There, he’s gone!’ she exclaimed, instead +of replying, as Champion swept round John Loveday and cantered +off triumphantly in the direction of Oxwell, a performance which +she followed with her eyes.</p> +<p>‘But how did you come upon his back, and whose horse is +it?’</p> +<p>‘I will tell you.’</p> +<p>‘Well?’</p> +<p>‘I—cannot tell you.’</p> +<p>John looked steadily at her, saying nothing.</p> +<p>‘How did you come here?’ she asked. +‘Is it true that the French have not landed at +all?’</p> +<p>‘Quite true; the alarm was groundless. I’ll +tell you all about it. You look very tired. You had +better sit down a few minutes. Let us sit on this +bank.’</p> +<p>He helped her to the slope indicated, and continued, still as +if his thoughts were more occupied with the mystery of her recent +situation than with what he was saying: ‘We arrived at +Budmouth Barracks this morning, and are to lie there all the +summer. I could not write to tell father we were +coming. It was not because of any rumour of the French, for +we knew nothing of that till we met the people on the road, and +the colonel said in a moment the news was false. Buonaparte +is not even at Boulogne just now. I was anxious to know how +you had borne the fright, so I hastened to Overcombe at once, as +soon as I could get out of barracks.’</p> +<p>Anne, who had not been at all responsive to his discourse, now +swayed heavily against him, and looking quickly down he found +that she had silently fainted. To support her in his arms +was of course the impulse of a moment. There was no water +to be had, and he could think of nothing else but to hold her +tenderly till she came round again. Certainly he desired +nothing more.</p> +<p>Again he asked himself, what did it all mean?</p> +<p>He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids, and at the row +of lashes lying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed +itself in singular perfection now that the customary pink had +given place to a pale luminousness caught from the surrounding +atmosphere. The dumpy ringlets about her forehead and +behind her poll, which were usually as tight as springs, had been +partially uncoiled by the wildness of her ride, and hung in split +locks over her forehead and neck. John, who, during the +long months of his absence, had lived only to meet her again, was +in a state of ecstatic reverence, and bending down he gently +kissed her.</p> +<p>Anne was just becoming conscious.</p> +<p>‘O, Mr. Derriman, never, never!’ she murmured, +sweeping her face with her hand.</p> +<p>‘I thought he was at the bottom of it,’ said +John.</p> +<p>Anne opened her eyes, and started back from him. +‘What is it?’ she said wildly.</p> +<p>‘You are ill, my dear Miss Garland,’ replied John +in trembling anxiety, and taking her hand.</p> +<p>‘I am not ill, I am wearied out!’ she said. +‘Can’t we walk on? How far are we from +Overcombe?’</p> +<p>‘About a mile. But tell me, somebody has been +hurting you—frightening you. I know who it was; it +was Derriman, and that was his horse. Now do you tell me +all.’</p> +<p>Anne reflected. ‘Then if I tell you,’ she +said, ‘will you discuss with me what I had better do, and +not for the present let my mother and your father know? I +don’t want to alarm them, and I must not let my affairs +interrupt the business connexion between the mill and the hall +that has gone on for so many years.’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told the adventure. +His brow reddened as she went on, and when she had done she said, +‘Now you are angry. Don’t do anything dreadful, +will you? Remember that this Festus will most likely +succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite of present appearances, and +if Bob succeeds at the mill there should be no enmity between +them.’</p> +<p>‘That’s true. I won’t tell Bob. +Leave him to me. Where is Derriman now? On his way +home, I suppose. When I have seen you into the house I will +deal with him—quite quietly, so that he shall say nothing +about it.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, appeal to him, do! Perhaps he will be better +then.’</p> +<p>They walked on together, Loveday seeming to experience much +quiet bliss.</p> +<p>‘I came to look for you,’ he said, ‘because +of that dear, sweet letter you wrote.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I did write you a letter,’ she admitted, +with misgiving, now beginning to see her mistake. ‘It +was because I was sorry I had blamed you.’</p> +<p>‘I am almost glad you did blame me,’ said John +cheerfully, ‘since, if you had not, the letter would not +have come. I have read it fifty times a day.’</p> +<p>This put Anne into an unhappy mood, and they proceeded without +much further talk till the mill chimneys were visible below +them. John then said that he would leave her to go in by +herself.</p> +<p>‘Ah, you are going back to get into some danger on my +account?’</p> +<p>‘I can’t get into much danger with such a fellow +as he, can I?’ said John, smiling.</p> +<p>‘Well, no,’ she answered, with a sudden +carelessness of tone. It was indispensable that he should +be undeceived, and to begin the process by taking an affectedly +light view of his personal risks was perhaps as good a way to do +it as any. Where friendliness was construed as love, an +assumed indifference was the necessary expression for +friendliness.</p> +<p>So she let him go; and, bidding him hasten back as soon as he +could, went down the hill, while John’s feet retraced the +upland.</p> +<p>The trumpet-major spent the whole afternoon and evening in +that long and difficult search for Festus Derriman. +Crossing the down at the end of the second hour he met Molly and +Mrs. Loveday. The gig had been repaired, they had learnt +the groundlessness of the alarm, and they would have been +proceeding happily enough but for their anxiety about Anne. +John told them shortly that she had got a lift home, and +proceeded on his way.</p> +<p>The worthy object of his search had in the meantime been +plodding homeward on foot, sulky at the loss of his charger, +encumbered with his sword, belts, high boots, and uniform, and in +his own discomfiture careless whether Anne Garland’s life +had been endangered or not.</p> +<p>At length Derriman reached a place where the road ran between +high banks, one of which he mounted and paced along as a change +from the hard trackway. Ahead of him he saw an old man +sitting down, with eyes fixed on the dust of the road, as if +resting and meditating at one and the same time. Being +pretty sure that he recognized his uncle in that venerable +figure, Festus came forward stealthily, till he was immediately +above the old man’s back. The latter was clothed in +faded nankeen breeches, speckled stockings, a drab hat, and a +coat which had once been light blue, but from exposure as a +scarecrow had assumed the complexion and fibre of a dried +pudding-cloth. The farmer was, in fact, returning to the +hall, which he had left in the morning some time later than his +nephew, to seek an asylum in a hollow tree about two miles +off. The tree was so situated as to command a view of the +building, and Uncle Benjy had managed to clamber up inside this +natural fortification high enough to watch his residence through +a hole in the bark, till, gathering from the words of occasional +passers-by that the alarm was at least premature, he had ventured +into daylight again.</p> +<p>He was now engaged in abstractedly tracing a diagram in the +dust with his walking-stick, and muttered words to himself +aloud. Presently he arose and went on his way without +turning round. Festus was curious enough to descend and +look at the marks. They represented an oblong, with two +semi-diagonals, and a little square in the middle. Upon the +diagonals were the figures 20 and 17, and on each side of the +parallelogram stood a letter signifying the point of the +compass.</p> +<p>‘What crazy thing is running in his head now?’ +said Festus to himself, with supercilious pity, recollecting that +the farmer had been singing those very numbers earlier in the +morning. Being able to make nothing of it, he lengthened +his strides, and treading on tiptoe overtook his relative, +saluting him by scratching his back like a hen. The +startled old farmer danced round like a top, and gasping, said, +as he perceived his nephew, ‘What, Festy! not thrown from +your horse and killed, then, after all!’</p> +<p>‘No, nunc. What made ye think that?’</p> +<p>‘Champion passed me about an hour ago, when I was in +hiding—poor timid soul of me, for I had nothing to lose by +the French coming—and he looked awful with the stirrups +dangling and the saddle empty. ’Tis a gloomy sight, +Festy, to see a horse cantering without a rider, and I thought +you had been—feared you had been thrown off and killed as +dead as a nit.’</p> +<p>‘Bless your dear old heart for being so anxious! +And what pretty picture were you drawing just now with your +walking-stick!’</p> +<p>‘O, that! That is only a way I have of amusing +myself. It showed how the French might have advanced to the +attack, you know. Such trifles fill the head of a weak old +man like me.’</p> +<p>‘Or the place where something is hid away—money, +for instance?’</p> +<p>‘Festy,’ said the farmer reproachfully, ‘you +always know I use the old glove in the bedroom cupboard for any +guinea or two I possess.’</p> +<p>‘Of course I do,’ said Festus ironically.</p> +<p>They had now reached a lonely inn about a mile and a half from +the hall, and, the farmer not responding to his nephew’s +kind invitation to come in and treat him, Festus entered +alone. He was dusty, draggled, and weary, and he remained +at the tavern long. The trumpet-major, in the meantime, +having searched the roads in vain, heard in the course of the +evening of the yeoman’s arrival at this place, and that he +would probably be found there still. He accordingly +approached the door, reaching it just as the dusk of evening +changed to darkness.</p> +<p>There was no light in the passage, but John pushed on at +hazard, inquired for Derriman, and was told that he would be +found in the back parlour alone. When Loveday first entered +the apartment he was unable to see anything, but following the +guidance of a vigorous snoring, he came to the settle, upon which +Festus lay asleep, his position being faintly signified by the +shine of his buttons and other parts of his uniform. John +laid his hand upon the reclining figure and shook him, and by +degrees Derriman stopped his snore and sat up.</p> +<p>‘Who are you?’ he said, in the accents of a man +who has been drinking hard. ‘Is it you, dear +Anne? Let me kiss you; yes, I will.’</p> +<p>‘Shut your mouth, you pitiful blockhead; I’ll +teach you genteeler manners than to persecute a young woman in +that way!’ and taking Festus by the ear, he gave it a good +pull. Festus broke out with an oath, and struck a vague +blow in the air with his fist; whereupon the trumpet-major dealt +him a box on the right ear, and a similar one on the left to +artistically balance the first. Festus jumped up and used +his fists wildly, but without any definite result.</p> +<p>‘Want to fight, do ye, eh?’ said John. +‘Nonsense! you can’t fight, you great baby, and never +could. You are only fit to be smacked!’ and he dealt +Festus a specimen of the same on the cheek with the palm of his +hand.</p> +<p>‘No, sir, no! O, you are Loveday, the young man +she’s going to be married to, I suppose? Dash me, I +didn’t want to hurt her, sir.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, my name is Loveday; and you’ll know where to +find me, since we can’t finish this to-night. Pistols +or swords, whichever you like, my boy. Take that, and that, +so that you may not forget to call upon me!’ and again he +smacked the yeoman’s ears and cheeks. ‘Do you +know what it is for, eh?’</p> +<p>‘No, Mr. Loveday, sir—yes, I mean, I +do.’</p> +<p>‘What is it for, then? I shall keep smacking until +you tell me. Gad! if you weren’t drunk, I’d +half kill you here to-night.’</p> +<p>‘It is because I served her badly. Damned if I +care! I’ll do it again, and be hanged to +’ee! Where’s my horse Champion? Tell me +that,’ and he hit at the trumpet-major.</p> +<p>John parried this attack, and taking him firmly by the collar, +pushed him down into the seat, saying, ‘Here I hold +’ee till you beg pardon for your doings to-day. Do +you want any more of it, do you?’ And he shook the +yeoman to a sort of jelly.</p> +<p>‘I do beg pardon—no, I don’t. I say +this, that you shall not take such liberties with old Squire +Derriman’s nephew, you dirty miller’s son, you +flour-worm, you smut in the corn! I’ll call you out +to-morrow morning, and have my revenge.’</p> +<p>‘Of course you will; that’s what I came +for.’ And pushing him back into the corner of the +settle, Loveday went out of the house, feeling considerable +satisfaction at having got himself into the beginning of as nice +a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most jealous lover could +desire.</p> +<p>But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the +least notion—that Festus Derriman, misled by the darkness, +the fumes of his potations, and the constant sight of Anne and +Bob together, never once supposed his assailant to be any other +man than Bob, believing the trumpet-major miles away.</p> +<p>There was a moon during the early part of John’s walk +home, but when he had arrived within a mile of Overcombe the sky +clouded over, and rain suddenly began to fall with some +violence. Near him was a wooden granary on tall stone +staddles, and perceiving that the rain was only a thunderstorm +which would soon pass away, he ascended the steps and entered the +doorway, where he stood watching the half-obscured moon through +the streaming rain. Presently, to his surprise, he beheld a +female figure running forward with great rapidity, not towards +the granary for shelter, but towards open ground. What +could she be running for in that direction? The answer came +in the appearance of his brother Bob from that quarter, seated on +the back of his father’s heavy horse. As soon as the +woman met him, Bob dismounted and caught her in his arms. +They stood locked together, the rain beating into their +unconscious forms, and the horse looking on.</p> +<p>The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw +himself on a heap of empty sacks which lay in the corner: he had +recognized the woman to be Anne. Here he reclined in a +stupor till he was aroused by the sound of voices under him, the +voices of Anne and his brother, who, having at last discovered +that they were getting wet, had taken shelter under the granary +floor.</p> +<p>‘I have been home,’ said she. ‘Mother +and Molly have both got back long ago. We were all anxious +about you, and I came out to look for you. O, Bob, I am so +glad to see you again!’</p> +<p>John might have heard every word of the conversation, which +was continued in the same strain for a long time; but he stopped +his ears, and would not. Still they remained, and still was +he determined that they should not see him. With the +conserved hope of more than half a year dashed away in a moment, +he could yet feel that the cruelty of a protest would be even +greater than its inutility. It was absolutely by his own +contrivance that the situation had been shaped. Bob, left +to himself, would long ere this have been the husband of another +woman.</p> +<p>The rain decreased, and the lovers went on. John looked +after them as they strolled, aqua-tinted by the weak moon and +mist. Bob had thrust one of his arms through the rein of +the horse, and the other was round Anne’s waist. When +they were lost behind the declivity the trumpet-major came out, +and walked homeward even more slowly than they. As he went +on, his face put off its complexion of despair for one of serene +resolve. For the first time in his dealings with friends he +entered upon a course of counterfeiting, set his features to +conceal his thought, and instructed his tongue to do +likewise. He threw fictitiousness into his very gait, even +now, when there was nobody to see him, and struck at stems of +wild parsley with his regimental switch as he had used to do when +soldiering was new to him, and life in general a charming +experience.</p> +<p>Thus cloaking his sickly thought, he descended to the mill as +the others had done before him, occasionally looking down upon +the wet road to notice how close Anne’s little tracks were +to Bob’s all the way along, and how precisely a curve in +his course was followed by a curve in hers. But after this +he erected his head and walked so smartly up to the front door +that his spurs rang through the court.</p> +<p>They had all reached home, but before any of them could speak +he cried gaily, ‘Ah, Bob, I have been thinking of +you! By God, how are you, my boy? No French +cut-throats after all, you see. Here we are, well and happy +together again.’</p> +<p>‘A good Providence has watched over us,’ said Mrs. +Loveday cheerfully. ‘Yes, in all times and places we +are in God’s hand.’</p> +<p>‘So we be, so we be!’ said the miller, who still +shone in all the fierceness of uniform. ‘Well, now +we’ll ha’e a drop o’ drink.’</p> +<p>‘There’s none,’ said David, coming forward +with a drawn face.</p> +<p>‘What!’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘Afore I went to church for a pike to defend my native +country from Boney, I pulled out the spigots of all the barrels, +maister; for, thinks I—damn him!—since we can’t +drink it ourselves, he shan’t have it, nor none of his +men.’</p> +<p>‘But you shouldn’t have done it till you was sure +he’d come!’ said the miller, aghast.</p> +<p>‘Chok’ it all, I was sure!’ said +David. ‘I’d sooner see churches fall than good +drink wasted; but how was I to know better?’</p> +<p>‘Well, well; what with one thing and another this day +will cost me a pretty penny!’ said Loveday, bustling off to +the cellar, which he found to be several inches deep in stagnant +liquor. ‘John, how can I welcome ’ee?’ he +continued hopelessly, on his return to the room. +‘Only go and see what he’s done!’</p> +<p>‘I’ve ladled up a drap wi’ a spoon, +trumpet-major,’ said David. +‘’Tisn’t bad drinking, though it do taste a +little of the floor, that’s true.’</p> +<p>John said that he did not require anything at all; and then +they all sat down to supper, and were very temperately gay with a +drop of mild elder-wine which Mrs. Loveday found in the bottom of +a jar. The trumpet-major, adhering to the part he meant to +play, gave humorous accounts of his adventures since he had last +sat there. He told them that the season was to be a very +lively one—that the royal family was coming, as usual, and +many other interesting things; so that when he left them to +return to barracks few would have supposed the British army to +contain a lighter-hearted man.</p> +<p>Anne was the only one who doubted the reality of this +behaviour. When she had gone up to her bedroom she stood +for some time looking at the wick of the candle as if it were a +painful object, the expression of her face being shaped by the +conviction that John’s afternoon words when he helped her +out of the way of Champion were not in accordance with his words +to-night, and that the dimly-realized kiss during her faintness +was no imaginary one. But in the blissful circumstances of +having Bob at hand again she took optimist views, and persuaded +herself that John would soon begin to see her in the light of a +sister.</p> +<h2>XXIX. A DISSEMBLER</h2> +<p>To cursory view, John Loveday seemed to accomplish this with +amazing ease. Whenever he came from barracks to Overcombe, +which was once or twice a week, he related news of all sorts to +her and Bob with infinite zest, and made the time as happy a one +as had ever been known at the mill, save for himself alone. +He said nothing of Festus, except so far as to inform Anne that +he had expected to see him and been disappointed. On the +evening after the King’s arrival at his seaside residence +John appeared again, staying to supper and describing the royal +entry, the many tasteful illuminations and transparencies which +had been exhibited, the quantities of tallow candles burnt for +that purpose, and the swarms of aristocracy who had followed the +King thither.</p> +<p>When supper was over Bob went outside the house to shut the +shutters, which had, as was often the case, been left open some +time after lights were kindled within. John still sat at +the table when his brother approached the window, though the +others had risen and retired. Bob was struck by seeing +through the pane how John’s face had changed. +Throughout the supper-time he had been talking to Anne in the gay +tone habitual with him now, which gave greater strangeness to the +gloom of his present appearance. He remained in thought for +a moment, took a letter from his breast-pocket, opened it, and, +with a tender smile at his weakness, kissed the writing before +restoring it to its place. The letter was one that Anne had +written to him at Exonbury.</p> +<p>Bob stood perplexed; and then a suspicion crossed his mind +that John, from brotherly goodness, might be feigning a +satisfaction with recent events which he did not feel. Bob +now made a noise with the shutters, at which the trumpet-major +rose and went out, Bob at once following him.</p> +<p>‘Jack,’ said the sailor ingenuously, +‘I’m terribly sorry that I’ve done +wrong.’</p> +<p>‘How?’ asked his brother.</p> +<p>‘In courting our little Anne. Well, you see, John, +she was in the same house with me, and somehow or other I made +myself her beau. But I have been thinking that perhaps you +had the first claim on her, and if so, Jack, I’ll make way +for ’ee. I—I don’t care for her much, you +know—not so very much, and can give her up very well. +It is nothing serious between us at all. Yes, John, you try +to get her; I can look elsewhere.’ Bob never knew how +much he loved Anne till he found himself making this speech of +renunciation.</p> +<p>‘O Bob, you are mistaken!’ said the trumpet-major, +who was not deceived. ‘When I first saw her I admired +her, and I admire her now, and like her. I like her so well +that I shall be glad to see you marry her.’</p> +<p>‘But,’ replied Bob, with hesitation, ‘I +thought I saw you looking very sad, as if you were in love; I saw +you take out a letter, in short. That’s what it was +disturbed me and made me come to you.’</p> +<p>‘O, I see your mistake!’ said John, laughing +forcedly.</p> +<p>At this minute Mrs. Loveday and the miller, who were taking a +twilight walk in the garden, strolled round near to where the +brothers stood. She talked volubly on events in Budmouth, +as most people did at this time. ‘And they tell me +that the theatre has been painted up afresh,’ she was +saying, ‘and that the actors have come for the season, with +the most lovely actresses that ever were seen.’</p> +<p>When they had passed by John continued, ‘I <i>am</i> in +love, Bob; but—not with Anne.’</p> +<p>‘Ah! who is it then?’ said the mate hopefully.</p> +<p>‘One of the actresses at the theatre,’ John +replied, with a concoctive look at the vanishing forms of Mr. and +Mrs. Loveday. ‘She is a very lovely woman, you +know. But we won’t say anything more about +it—it dashes a man so.’</p> +<p>‘O, one of the actresses!’ said Bob, with open +mouth.</p> +<p>‘But don’t you say anything about it!’ +continued the trumpet-major heartily. ‘I don’t +want it known.’</p> +<p>‘No, no—I won’t, of course. May I not +know her name?’</p> +<p>‘No, not now, Bob. I cannot tell ’ee,’ +John answered, and with truth, for Loveday did not know the name +of any actress in the world.</p> +<p>When his brother had gone, Captain Bob hastened off in a state +of great animation to Anne, whom he found on the top of a +neighbouring hillock which the daylight had scarcely as yet +deserted.</p> +<p>‘You have been a long time coming, sir,’ said she, +in sprightly tones of reproach.</p> +<p>‘Yes, dearest; and you’ll be glad to hear +why. I’ve found out the whole +mystery—yes—why he’s queer, and +everything.’</p> +<p>Anne looked startled.</p> +<p>‘He’s up to the gunnel in love! We must try +to help him on in it, or I fear he’ll go melancholy-mad +like.’</p> +<p>‘We help him?’ she asked faintly.</p> +<p>‘He’s lost his heart to one of the play-actresses +at Budmouth, and I think she slights him.’</p> +<p>‘O, I am so glad!’ she exclaimed.</p> +<p>‘Glad that his venture don’t prosper?’</p> +<p>‘O no; glad he’s so sensible. How long is it +since that alarm of the French?’</p> +<p>‘Six weeks, honey. Why do you ask?’</p> +<p>‘Men can forget in six weeks, can’t they, +Bob?’</p> +<p>The impression that John had really kissed her still +remained.</p> +<p>‘Well, some men might,’ observed Bob +judicially. ‘<i>I</i> couldn’t. Perhaps +John might. I couldn’t forget <i>you</i> in twenty +times as long. Do you know, Anne, I half thought it was you +John cared about; and it was a weight off my heart when he said +he didn’t.’</p> +<p>‘Did he say he didn’t?’</p> +<p>‘Yes. He assured me himself that the only person +in the hold of his heart was this lovely play-actress, and nobody +else.’</p> +<p>‘How I should like to see her!’</p> +<p>‘Yes. So should I.’</p> +<p>‘I would rather it had been one of our own +neighbours’ girls, whose birth and breeding we know of; but +still, if that is his taste, I hope it will end well for +him. How very quick he has been! I certainly wish we +could see her.’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know so much as her name. He is +very close, and wouldn’t tell a thing about her.’</p> +<p>‘Couldn’t we get him to go to the theatre with us? +and then we could watch him, and easily find out the right +one. Then we would learn if she is a good young woman; and +if she is, could we not ask her here, and so make it smoother for +him? He has been very gay lately; that means budding love: +and sometimes between his gaieties he has had melancholy moments; +that means there’s difficulty.’</p> +<p>Bob thought her plan a good one, and resolved to put it in +practice on the first available evening. Anne was very +curious as to whether John did really cherish a new passion, the +story having quite surprised her. Possibly it was true; six +weeks had passed since John had shown a single symptom of the old +attachment, and what could not that space of time effect in the +heart of a soldier whose very profession it was to leave girls +behind him?</p> +<p>After this John Loveday did not come to see them for nearly a +month, a neglect which was set down by Bob as an additional proof +that his brother’s affections were no longer exclusively +centred in his old home. When at last he did arrive, and +the theatre-going was mentioned to him, the flush of +consciousness which Anne expected to see upon his face was +unaccountably absent.</p> +<p>‘Yes, Bob; I should very well like to go to the +theatre,’ he replied heartily. ‘Who is going +besides?’</p> +<p>‘Only Anne,’ Bob told him, and then it seemed to +occur to the trumpet-major that something had been expected of +him. He rose and said privately to Bob with some confusion, +‘O yes, of course we’ll go. As I am connected +with one of the—in short I can get you in for nothing, you +know. At least let me manage everything.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes. I wonder you didn’t propose to +take us before, Jack, and let us have a good look at +her.’</p> +<p>‘I ought to have. You shall go on a King’s +night. You won’t want me to point her out, Bob; I +have my reasons at present for asking it?’</p> +<p>‘We’ll be content with guessing,’ said his +brother.</p> +<p>When the gallant John was gone, Anne observed, ‘Bob, how +he is changed! I watched him. He showed no feeling, +even when you burst upon him suddenly with the subject nearest +his heart.’</p> +<p>‘It must be because his suit don’t fay,’ +said Captain Bob.</p> +<h2>XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL</h2> +<p>In two or three days a message arrived asking them to attend +at the theatre on the coming evening, with the added request that +they would dress in their gayest clothes, to do justice to the +places taken. Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon +they drove off, Bob having clothed himself in a splendid suit, +recently purchased as an attempt to bring himself nearer to +Anne’s style when they appeared in public together. +As finished off by this dashing and really fashionable attire, he +was the perfection of a beau in the dog-days; pantaloons and +boots of the newest make; yards and yards of muslin wound round +his neck, forming a sort of asylum for the lower part of his +face; two fancy waistcoats, and coat-buttons like circular +shaving glasses. The absurd extreme of female fashion, +which was to wear muslin dresses in January, was at this time +equalled by that of the men, who wore clothes enough in August to +melt them. Nobody would have guessed from Bob’s +presentation now that he had ever been aloft on a dark night in +the Atlantic, or knew the hundred ingenuities that could be +performed with a rope’s end and a marline-spike as well as +his mother tongue.</p> +<p>It was a day of days. Anne wore her celebrated celestial +blue pelisse, her Leghorn hat, and her muslin dress with the +waist under the arms; the latter being decorated with excellent +Honiton lace bought of the woman who travelled from that place to +Overcombe and its neighbourhood with a basketful of her own +manufacture, and a cushion on which she worked by the +wayside. John met the lovers at the inn outside the town, +and after stabling the horse they entered the town together, the +trumpet-major informing them that the watering-place had never +been so full before, that the Court, the Prince of Wales, and +everybody of consequence was there, and that an attic could +scarcely be got for money. The King had gone for a cruise +in his yacht, and they would be in time to see him land.</p> +<p>Then drums and fifes were heard, and in a minute or two they +saw Sergeant Stanner advancing along the street with a firm +countenance, fiery poll, and rigid staring eyes, in front of his +recruiting-party. The sergeant’s sword was drawn, and +at intervals of two or three inches along its shining blade were +impaled fluttering one-pound notes, to express the lavish bounty +that was offered. He gave a stern, suppressed nod of +friendship to our people, and passed by. Next they came up +to a waggon, bowered over with leaves and flowers, so that the +men inside could hardly be seen.</p> +<p>‘Come to see the King, hip-hip hurrah!’ cried a +voice within, and turning they saw through the leaves the nose +and face of Cripplestraw. The waggon contained all +Derriman’s workpeople.</p> +<p>‘Is your master here?’ said John.</p> +<p>‘No, trumpet-major, sir. But young maister is +coming to fetch us at nine o’clock, in case we should be +too blind to drive home.’</p> +<p>‘O! where is he now?’</p> +<p>‘Never mind,’ said Anne impatiently, at which the +trumpet-major obediently moved on.</p> +<p>By the time they reached the pier it was six o’clock; +the royal yacht was returning; a fact announced by the ships in +the harbour firing a salute. The King came ashore with his +hat in his hand, and returned the salutations of the well-dressed +crowd in his old indiscriminate fashion. While this +cheering and waving of handkerchiefs was going on Anne stood +between the two brothers, who protectingly joined their hands +behind her back, as if she were a delicate piece of statuary that +a push might damage. Soon the King had passed, and +receiving the military salutes of the piquet, joined the Queen +and princesses at Gloucester Lodge, the homely house of red brick +in which he unostentatiously resided.</p> +<p>As there was yet some little time before the theatre would +open, they strayed upon the velvet sands, and listened to the +songs of the sailors, one of whom extemporized for the +occasion:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘Portland Road the King aboard, the King +aboard!<br /> +Portland Road the King aboard,<br /> +We weighed and sailed from Portland Road!’ <a +name="citation272"></a><a href="#footnote272" +class="citation">[272]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>When they had looked on awhile at the combats at single-stick +which were in progress hard by, and seen the sum of five guineas +handed over to the modest gentleman who had broken most heads, +they returned to Gloucester Lodge, whence the King and other +members of his family now reappeared, and drove, at a slow trot, +round to the theatre in carriages drawn by the Hanoverian white +horses that were so well known in the town at this date.</p> +<p>When Anne and Bob entered the theatre they found that John had +taken excellent places, and concluded that he had got them for +nothing through the influence of the lady of his choice. As +a matter of fact he had paid full prices for those two seats, +like any other outsider, and even then had a difficulty in +getting them, it being a King’s night. When they were +settled he himself retired to an obscure part of the pit, from +which the stage was scarcely visible.</p> +<p>‘We can see beautifully,’ said Bob, in an +aristocratic voice, as he took a delicate pinch of snuff, and +drew out the magnificent pocket-handkerchief brought home from +the East for such occasions. ‘But I am afraid poor +John can’t see at all.’</p> +<p>‘But we can see him,’ replied Anne, ‘and +notice by his face which of them it is he is so charmed +with. The light of that corner candle falls right upon his +cheek.’</p> +<p>By this time the King had appeared in his place, which was +overhung by a canopy of crimson satin fringed with gold. +About twenty places were occupied by the royal family and suite; +and beyond them was a crowd of powdered and glittering personages +of fashion, completely filling the centre of the little building; +though the King so frequently patronized the local stage during +these years that the crush was not inconvenient.</p> +<p>The curtain rose and the play began. To-night it was one +of Colman’s, who at this time enjoyed great popularity, and +Mr. Bannister supported the leading character. Anne, with +her hand privately clasped in Bob’s, and looking as if she +did not know it, partly watched the piece and partly the face of +the impressionable John who had so soon transferred his +affections elsewhere. She had not long to wait. When +a certain one of the subordinate ladies of the comedy entered on +the stage the trumpet-major in his corner not only looked +conscious, but started and gazed with parted lips.</p> +<p>‘This must be the one,’ whispered Anne +quickly. ‘See, he is agitated!’</p> +<p>She turned to Bob, but at the same moment his hand +convulsively closed upon hers as he, too, strangely fixed his +eyes upon the newly-entered lady.</p> +<p>‘What is it?’</p> +<p>Anne looked from one to the other without regarding the stage +at all. Her answer came in the voice of the actress who now +spoke for the first time. The accents were those of Miss +Matilda Johnson.</p> +<p>One thought rushed into both their minds on the instant, and +Bob was the first to utter it.</p> +<p>‘What—is she the woman of his choice after +all?’</p> +<p>‘If so, it is a dreadful thing!’ murmured +Anne.</p> +<p>But, as may be imagined, the unfortunate John was as much +surprised by this rencounter as the other two. Until this +moment he had been in utter ignorance of the theatrical company +and all that pertained to it. Moreover, much as he knew of +Miss Johnson, he was not aware that she had ever been trained in +her youth as an actress, and that after lapsing into straits and +difficulties for a couple of years she had been so fortunate as +to again procure an engagement here.</p> +<p>The trumpet-major, though not prominently seated, had been +seen by Matilda already, who had observed still more plainly her +old betrothed and Anne in the other part of the house. John +was not concerned on his own account at being face to face with +her, but at the extraordinary suspicion that this conjuncture +must revive in the minds of his best beloved friends. After +some moments of pained reflection he tapped his knee.</p> +<p>‘Gad, I won’t explain; it shall go as it +is!’ he said. ‘Let them think her mine. +Better that than the truth, after all.’</p> +<p>Had personal prominence in the scene been at this moment +proportioned to intentness of feeling, the whole audience, regal +and otherwise, would have faded into an indistinct mist of +background, leaving as the sole emergent and telling figures Bob +and Anne at one point, the trumpet-major on the left hand, and +Matilda at the opposite corner of the stage. But +fortunately the deadlock of awkward suspense into which all four +had fallen was terminated by an accident. A messenger +entered the King’s box with despatches. There was an +instant pause in the performance. The despatch-box being +opened the King read for a few moments with great interest, the +eyes of the whole house, including those of Anne Garland, being +anxiously fixed upon his face; for terrible events fell as +unexpectedly as thunderbolts at this critical time of our +history. The King at length beckoned to Lord ---, who was +immediately behind him, the play was again stopped, and the +contents of the despatch were publicly communicated to the +audience.</p> +<p>Sir Robert Calder, cruising off Finisterre, had come in sight +of Villeneuve, and made the signal for action, which, though +checked by the weather, had resulted in the capture of two +Spanish line-of-battle ships, and the retreat of Villeneuve into +Ferrol.</p> +<p>The news was received with truly national feeling, if noise +might be taken as an index of patriotism. ‘Rule +Britannia’ was called for and sung by the whole +house. But the importance of the event was far from being +recognized at this time; and Bob Loveday, as he sat there and +heard it, had very little conception how it would bear upon his +destiny.</p> +<p>This parenthetic excitement diverted for a few minutes the +eyes of Bob and Anne from the trumpet-major; and when the play +proceeded, and they looked back to his corner, he was gone.</p> +<p>‘He’s just slipped round to talk to her behind the +scenes,’ said Bob knowingly. ‘Shall we go too, +and tease him for a sly dog?’</p> +<p>‘No, I would rather not.’</p> +<p>‘Shall we go home, then?’</p> +<p>‘Not unless her presence is too much for you?’</p> +<p>‘O—not at all. We’ll stay here. +Ah, there she is again.’</p> +<p>They sat on, and listened to Matilda’s speeches which +she delivered with such delightful coolness that they soon began +to considerably interest one of the party.</p> +<p>‘Well, what a nerve the young woman has!’ he said +at last in tones of admiration, and gazing at Miss Johnson with +all his might. ‘After all, Jack’s taste is not +so bad. She’s really deuced clever.’</p> +<p>‘Bob, I’ll go home if you wish to,’ said +Anne quickly.</p> +<p>‘O no—let us see how she fleets herself off that +bit of a scrape she’s playing at now. Well, what a +hand she is at it, to be sure!’</p> +<p>Anne said no more, but waited on, supremely uncomfortable, and +almost tearful. She began to feel that she did not like +life particularly well; it was too complicated: she saw nothing +of the scene, and only longed to get away, and to get Bob away +with her. At last the curtain fell on the final act, and +then began the farce of ‘No Song no Supper.’ +Matilda did not appear in this piece, and Anne again inquired if +they should go home. This time Bob agreed, and taking her +under his care with redoubled affection, to make up for the +species of coma which had seized upon his heart for a time, he +quietly accompanied her out of the house.</p> +<p>When they emerged upon the esplanade, the August moon was +shining across the sea from the direction of St. Aldhelm’s +Head. Bob unconsciously loitered, and turned towards the +pier. Reaching the end of the promenade they surveyed the +quivering waters in silence for some time, until a long dark line +shot from behind the promontory of the Nothe, and swept forward +into the harbour.</p> +<p>‘What boat is that?’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘It seems to be some frigate lying in the Roads,’ +said Bob carelessly, as he brought Anne round with a gentle +pressure of his arm and bent his steps towards the homeward end +of the town.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Miss Johnson, having finished her duties for that +evening, rapidly changed her dress, and went out likewise. +The prominent position which Anne and Captain Bob had occupied +side by side in the theatre, left her no alternative but to +suppose that the situation was arranged by Bob as a species of +defiance to herself; and her heart, such as it was, became +proportionately embittered against him. In spite of the +rise in her fortunes, Miss Johnson still remembered—and +always would remember—her humiliating departure from +Overcombe; and it had been to her even a more grievous thing that +Bob had acquiesced in his brother’s ruling than that John +had determined it. At the time of setting out she was +sustained by a firm faith that Bob would follow her, and nullify +his brother’s scheme; but though she waited Bob never +came.</p> +<p>She passed along by the houses facing the sea, and scanned the +shore, the footway, and the open road close to her, which, +illuminated by the slanting moon to a great brightness, sparkled +with minute facets of crystallized salts from the water sprinkled +there during the day. The promenaders at the further edge +appeared in dark profiles; and beyond them was the grey sea, +parted into two masses by the tapering braid of moonlight across +the waves.</p> +<p>Two forms crossed this line at a startling nearness to her; +she marked them at once as Anne and Bob Loveday. They were +walking slowly, and in the earnestness of their discourse were +oblivious of the presence of any human beings save +themselves. Matilda stood motionless till they had +passed.</p> +<p>‘How I love them!’ she said, treading the initial +step of her walk onwards with a vehemence that walking did not +demand.</p> +<p>‘So do I—especially one,’ said a voice at +her elbow; and a man wheeled round her, and looked in her face, +which had been fully exposed to the moon.</p> +<p>‘You—who are you?’ she asked.</p> +<p>‘Don’t you remember, ma’am? We walked +some way together towards Overcombe earlier in the +summer.’ Matilda looked more closely, and perceived +that the speaker was Derriman, in plain clothes. He +continued, ‘You are one of the ladies of the theatre, I +know. May I ask why you said in such a queer way that you +loved that couple?’</p> +<p>‘In a queer way?’</p> +<p>‘Well, as if you hated them.’</p> +<p>‘I don’t mind your knowing that I have good reason +to hate them. You do too, it seems?’</p> +<p>‘That man,’ said Festus savagely, ‘came to +me one night about that very woman; insulted me before I could +put myself on my guard, and ran away before I could come up with +him and avenge myself. The woman tricks me at every +turn! I want to part ’em.’</p> +<p>‘Then why don’t you? There’s a +splendid opportunity. Do you see that soldier walking +along? He’s a marine; he looks into the gallery of +the theatre every night: and he’s in connexion with the +press-gang that came ashore just now from the frigate lying in +Portland Roads. They are often here for men.’</p> +<p>‘Yes. Our boatmen dread ’em.’</p> +<p>‘Well, we have only to tell him that Loveday is a seaman +to be clear of him this very night.’</p> +<p>‘Done!’ said Festus. ‘Take my arm and +come this way.’ They walked across to the +footway. ‘Fine night, sergeant.’</p> +<p>‘It is, sir.’</p> +<p>‘Looking for hands, I suppose?’</p> +<p>‘It is not to be known, sir. We don’t begin +till half past ten.’</p> +<p>‘It is a pity you don’t begin now. I could +show ’ee excellent game.’</p> +<p>‘What, that little nest of fellows at the “Old +Rooms” in Cove Row? I have just heard of +’em.’</p> +<p>‘No—come here.’ Festus, with Miss +Johnson on his arm, led the sergeant quickly along the parade, +and by the time they reached the Narrows the lovers, who walked +but slowly, were visible in front of them. +‘There’s your man,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘That buck in pantaloons and half-boots—a looking +like a squire?’</p> +<p>‘Twelve months ago he was mate of the brig Pewit; but +his father has made money, and keeps him at home.’</p> +<p>‘Faith, now you tell of it, there’s a hint of sea +legs about him. What’s the young beau’s +name?’</p> +<p>‘Don’t tell!’ whispered Matilda, impulsively +clutching Festus’s arm.</p> +<p>But Festus had already said, ‘Robert Loveday, son of the +miller at Overcombe. You may find several likely fellows in +that neighbourhood.’</p> +<p>The marine said that he would bear it in mind, and they left +him.</p> +<p>‘I wish you had not told,’ said Matilda +tearfully. ‘She’s the worst!’</p> +<p>‘Dash my eyes now; listen to that! Why, you +chicken-hearted old stager, you was as well agreed as I. +Come now; hasn’t he used you badly?’</p> +<p>Matilda’s acrimony returned. ‘I was down on +my luck, or he wouldn’t have had the chance!’ she +said.</p> +<p>‘Well, then, let things be.’</p> +<h2>XXXI. MIDNIGHT VISITORS</h2> +<p>Miss Garland and Loveday walked leisurely to the inn and +called for horse-and-gig. While the hostler was bringing it +round, the landlord, who knew Bob and his family well, spoke to +him quietly in the passage.</p> +<p>‘Is this then because you want to throw dust in the eyes +of the Black Diamond chaps?’ (with an admiring glance at +Bob’s costume).</p> +<p>‘The Black Diamond?’ said Bob; and Anne turned +pale.</p> +<p>‘She hove in sight just after dark, and at nine +o’clock a boat having more than a dozen marines on board, +with cloaks on, rowed into harbour.’</p> +<p>Bob reflected. ‘Then there’ll be a press +to-night; depend upon it,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘They won’t know you, will they, Bob?’ said +Anne anxiously.</p> +<p>‘They certainly won’t know him for a seaman +now,’ remarked the landlord, laughing, and again surveying +Bob up and down. ‘But if I was you two, I should +drive home-along straight and quiet; and be very busy in the mill +all to-morrow, Mr. Loveday.’</p> +<p>They drove away; and when they had got onward out of the town, +Anne strained her eyes wistfully towards Portland. Its dark +contour, lying like a whale on the sea, was just perceptible in +the gloom as the background to half-a-dozen ships’ lights +nearer at hand.</p> +<p>‘They can’t make you go, now you are a gentleman +tradesman, can they?’ she asked.</p> +<p>‘If they want me they can have me, dearest. I have +often said I ought to volunteer.’</p> +<p>‘And not care about me at all?’</p> +<p>‘It is just that that keeps me at home. I +won’t leave you if I can help it.’</p> +<p>‘It cannot make such a vast difference to the country +whether one man goes or stays! But if you want to go you +had better, and not mind us at all!’</p> +<p>Bob put a period to her speech by a mark of affection to which +history affords many parallels in every age. She said no +more about the Black Diamond; but whenever they ascended a hill +she turned her head to look at the lights in Portland Roads, and +the grey expanse of intervening sea.</p> +<p>Though Captain Bob had stated that he did not wish to +volunteer, and would not leave her if he could help it, the +remark required some qualification. That Anne was charming +and loving enough to chain him anywhere was true; but he had +begun to find the mill-work terribly irksome at times. +Often during the last month, when standing among the rumbling +cogs in his new miller’s suit, which ill became him, he had +yawned, thought wistfully of the old pea-jacket, and the waters +of the deep blue sea. His dread of displeasing his father +by showing anything of this change of sentiment was great; yet he +might have braved it but for knowing that his marriage with Anne, +which he hoped might take place the next year, was dependent +entirely upon his adherence to the mill business. Even were +his father indifferent, Mrs. Loveday would never intrust her only +daughter to the hands of a husband who would be away from home +five-sixths of his time.</p> +<p>But though, apart from Anne, he was not averse to seafaring in +itself, to be smuggled thither by the machinery of a press-gang +was intolerable; and the process of seizing, stunning, pinioning, +and carrying off unwilling hands was one which Bob as a man had +always determined to hold out against to the utmost of his +power. Hence, as they went towards home, he frequently +listened for sounds behind him, but hearing none he assured his +sweetheart that they were safe for that night at least. The +mill was still going when they arrived, though old Mr. Loveday +was not to be seen; he had retired as soon as he heard the +horse’s hoofs in the lane, leaving Bob to watch the +grinding till three o’clock; when the elder would rise, and +Bob withdraw to bed—a frequent arrangement between them +since Bob had taken the place of grinder.</p> +<p>Having reached the privacy of her own room, Anne threw open +the window, for she had not the slightest intention of going to +bed just yet. The tale of the Black Diamond had disturbed +her by a slow, insidious process that was worse than sudden +fright. Her window looked into the court before the house, +now wrapped in the shadow of the trees and the hill; and she +leaned upon its sill listening intently. She could have +heard any strange sound distinctly enough in one direction; but +in the other all low noises were absorbed in the patter of the +mill, and the rush of water down the race.</p> +<p>However, what she heard came from the hitherto silent side, +and was intelligible in a moment as being the footsteps of +men. She tried to think they were some late stragglers from +Budmouth. Alas! no; the tramp was too regular for that of +villagers. She hastily turned, extinguished the candle, and +listened again. As they were on the main road there was, +after all, every probability that the party would pass the bridge +which gave access to the mill court without turning in upon it, +or even noticing that such an entrance existed. In this +again she was disappointed: they crossed into the front without a +pause. The pulsations of her heart became a turmoil now, +for why should these men, if they were the press-gang, and +strangers to the locality, have supposed that a sailor was to be +found here, the younger of the two millers Loveday being never +seen now in any garb which could suggest that he was other than a +miller pure, like his father? One of the men spoke.</p> +<p>‘I am not sure that we are in the right place,’ he +said.</p> +<p>‘This is a mill, anyhow,’ said another.</p> +<p>‘There’s lots about here.’</p> +<p>‘Then come this way a moment with your light.’</p> +<p>Two of the group went towards the cart-house on the opposite +side of the yard, and when they reached it a dark lantern was +opened, the rays being directed upon the front of the +miller’s waggon.</p> +<p>‘“Loveday and Son, Overcombe Mill,”’ +continued the man, reading from the waggon. +‘“Son,” you see, is lately painted in. +That’s our man.’</p> +<p>He moved to turn off the light, but before he had done so it +flashed over the forms of the speakers, and revealed a sergeant, +a naval officer, and a file of marines.</p> +<p>Anne waited to see no more. When Bob stayed up to grind, +as he was doing to-night, he often sat in his room instead of +remaining all the time in the mill; and this room was an isolated +chamber over the bakehouse, which could not be reached without +going downstairs and ascending the step-ladder that served for +his staircase. Anne descended in the dark, clambered up the +ladder, and saw that light strayed through the chink below the +door. His window faced towards the garden, and hence the +light could not as yet have been seen by the press-gang.</p> +<p>‘Bob, dear Bob!’ she said, through the +keyhole. ‘Put out your light, and run out of the +back-door!’</p> +<p>‘Why?’ said Bob, leisurely knocking the ashes from +the pipe he had been smoking.</p> +<p>‘The press-gang!’</p> +<p>‘They have come? By God! who can have blown upon +me? All right, dearest. I’m game.’</p> +<p>Anne, scarcely knowing what she did, descended the ladder and +ran to the back-door, hastily unbolting it to save Bob’s +time, and gently opening it in readiness for him. She had +no sooner done this than she felt hands laid upon her shoulder +from without, and a voice exclaiming, ‘That’s how we +doos it—quite an obleeging young man!’</p> +<p>Though the hands held her rather roughly, Anne did not mind +for herself, and turning she cried desperately, in tones intended +to reach Bob’s ears: ‘They are at the back-door; try +the front!’</p> +<p>But inexperienced Miss Garland little knew the shrewd habits +of the gentlemen she had to deal with, who, well used to this +sort of pastime, had already posted themselves at every outlet +from the premises.</p> +<p>‘Bring the lantern,’ shouted the fellow who held +her. ‘Why—’tis a girl! I half +thought so—Here is a way in,’ he continued to his +comrades, hastening to the foot of the ladder which led to +Bob’s room.</p> +<p>‘What d’ye want?’ said Bob, quietly opening +the door, and showing himself still radiant in the full dress +that he had worn with such effect at the Theatre Royal, which he +had been about to change for his mill suit when Anne gave the +alarm.</p> +<p>‘This gentleman can’t be the right one,’ +observed a marine, rather impressed by Bob’s +appearance.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes; that’s the man,’ said the +sergeant. ‘Now take it quietly, my young +cock-o’-wax. You look as if you meant to, and +’tis wise of ye.’</p> +<p>‘Where are you going to take me?’ said Bob.</p> +<p>‘Only aboard the Black Diamond. If you choose to +take the bounty and come voluntarily, you’ll be allowed to +go ashore whenever your ship’s in port. If you +don’t, and we’ve got to pinion ye, you will not have +your liberty at all. As you must come, willy-nilly, +you’ll do the first if you’ve any brains +whatever.’</p> +<p>Bob’s temper began to rise. ‘Don’t you +talk so large, about your pinioning, my man. When +I’ve settled—’</p> +<p>‘Now or never, young blow-hard,’ interrupted his +informant.</p> +<p>‘Come, what jabber is this going on?’ said the +lieutenant, stepping forward. ‘Bring your +man.’</p> +<p>One of the marines set foot on the ladder, but at the same +moment a shoe from Bob’s hand hit the lantern with +well-aimed directness, knocking it clean out of the grasp of the +man who held it. In spite of the darkness they began to +scramble up the ladder. Bob thereupon shut the door, which +being but of slight construction, was as he knew only a momentary +defence. But it gained him time enough to open the window, +gather up his legs upon the sill, and spring across into the +apple-tree growing without. He alighted without much hurt +beyond a few scratches from the boughs, a shower of falling +apples testifying to the force of his leap.</p> +<p>‘Here he is!’ shouted several below who had seen +Bob’s figure flying like a raven’s across the +sky.</p> +<p>There was stillness for a moment in the tree. Then the +fugitive made haste to climb out upon a low-hanging branch +towards the garden, at which the men beneath all rushed in that +direction to catch him as he dropped, saying, ‘You may as +well come down, old boy. ’Twas a spry jump, and we +give ye credit for ‘t.’</p> +<p>The latter movement of Loveday had been a mere feint. +Partly hidden by the leaves he glided back to the other part of +the tree, from whence it was easy to jump upon a thatch-covered +out-house. This intention they did not appear to suspect, +which gave him the opportunity of sliding down the slope and +entering the back door of the mill.</p> +<p>‘He’s here, he’s here!’ the men +exclaimed, running back from the tree.</p> +<p>By this time they had obtained another light, and pursued him +closely along the back quarters of the mill. Bob had +entered the lower room, seized hold of the chain by which the +flour-sacks were hoisted from story to story by connexion with +the mill-wheel, and pulled the rope that hung alongside for the +purpose of throwing it into gear. The foremost pursuers +arrived just in time to see Captain Bob’s legs and +shoe-buckles vanishing through the trap-door in the joists +overhead, his person having been whirled up by the machinery like +any bag of flour, and the trap falling to behind him.</p> +<p>‘He’s gone up by the hoist!’ said the +sergeant, running up the ladder in the corner to the next floor, +and elevating the light just in time to see Bob’s suspended +figure ascending in the same way through the same sort of trap +into the second floor. The second trap also fell together +behind him, and he was lost to view as before.</p> +<p>It was more difficult to follow now; there was only a flimsy +little ladder, and the men ascended cautiously. When they +stepped out upon the loft it was empty.</p> +<p>‘He must ha’ let go here,’ said one of the +marines, who knew more about mills than the others. +‘If he had held fast a moment longer, he would have been +dashed against that beam.’</p> +<p>They looked up. The hook by which Bob had held on had +ascended to the roof, and was winding round the cylinder. +Nothing was visible elsewhere but boarded divisions like the +stalls of a stable, on each side of the stage they stood upon, +these compartments being more or less heaped up with wheat and +barley in the grain.</p> +<p>‘Perhaps he’s buried himself in the +corn.’</p> +<p>The whole crew jumped into the corn-bins, and stirred about +their yellow contents; but neither arm, leg, nor coat-tail was +uncovered. They removed sacks, peeped among the rafters of +the roof, but to no purpose. The lieutenant began to fume +at the loss of time.</p> +<p>‘What cursed fools to let the man go! Why, look +here, what’s this?’ He had opened the door by +which sacks were taken in from waggons without, and dangling from +the cat-head projecting above it was the rope used in lifting +them. ‘There’s the way he went down,’ the +officer continued. ‘The man’s gone.’</p> +<p>Amidst mumblings and curses the gang descended the pair of +ladders and came into the open air; but Captain Bob was nowhere +to be seen. When they reached the front door of the house +the miller was standing on the threshold, half dressed.</p> +<p>‘Your son is a clever fellow, miller,’ said the +lieutenant; ‘but it would have been much better for him if +he had come quiet.’</p> +<p>‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ said +Loveday.</p> +<p>‘I have no doubt that he’s in the +house.’</p> +<p>‘He may be; and he may not.’</p> +<p>‘Do you know where he is?’</p> +<p>‘I do not; and if I did I shouldn’t +tell.’</p> +<p>‘Naturally.’</p> +<p>‘I heard steps beating up the road, sir,’ said the +sergeant.</p> +<p>They turned from the door, and leaving four of the marines to +keep watch round the house, the remainder of the party marched +into the lane as far as where the other road branched off. +While they were pausing to decide which course to take, one of +the soldiers held up the light. A black object was +discernible upon the ground before them, and they found it to be +a hat—the hat of Bob Loveday.</p> +<p>‘We are on the track,’ cried the sergeant, +deciding for this direction.</p> +<p>They tore on rapidly, and the footsteps previously heard +became audible again, increasing in clearness, which told that +they gained upon the fugitive, who in another five minutes +stopped and turned. The rays of the candle fell upon +Anne.</p> +<p>‘What do you want?’ she said, showing her +frightened face.</p> +<p>They made no reply, but wheeled round and left her. She +sank down on the bank to rest, having done all she could. +It was she who had taken down Bob’s hat from a nail, and +dropped it at the turning with the view of misleading them till +he should have got clear off.</p> +<h2>XXXII. DELIVERANCE</h2> +<p>But Anne Garland was too anxious to remain long away from the +centre of operations. When she got back she found that the +press-gang were standing in the court discussing their next +move.</p> +<p>‘Waste no more time here,’ the lieutenant +said. ‘Two more villages to visit to-night, and the +nearest three miles off. There’s nobody else in this +place, and we can’t come back again.’</p> +<p>When they were moving away, one of the private marines, who +had kept his eye on Anne, and noticed her distress, contrived to +say in a whisper as he passed her, ‘We are coming back +again as soon as it begins to get light; that’s only said +to deceive ’ee. Keep your young man out of the +way.’</p> +<p>They went as they had come; and the little household then met +together, Mrs. Loveday having by this time dressed herself and +come down. A long and anxious discussion followed.</p> +<p>‘Somebody must have told upon the chap,’ Loveday +remarked. ‘How should they have found him out else, +now he’s been home from sea this twelvemonth?’</p> +<p>Anne then mentioned what the friendly marine had told her; and +fearing lest Bob was in the house, and would be discovered there +when daylight came, they searched and called for him +everywhere.</p> +<p>‘What clothes has he got on?’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘His lovely new suit,’ said his wife. +‘I warrant it is quite spoiled!’</p> +<p>‘He’s got no hat,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Loveday, ‘you two go and lie +down now and I’ll bide up; and as soon as he comes in, +which he’ll do most likely in the course of the night, +I’ll let him know that they are coming again.’</p> +<p>Anne and Mrs. Loveday went to their bedrooms, and the miller +entered the mill as if he were simply staying up to grind. +But he continually left the flour-shoot to go outside and walk +round; each time he could see no living being near the +spot. Anne meanwhile had lain down dressed upon her bed, +the window still open, her ears intent upon the sound of +footsteps and dreading the reappearance of daylight and the +gang’s return. Three or four times during the night +she descended to the mill to inquire of her stepfather if Bob had +shown himself; but the answer was always in the negative.</p> +<p>At length the curtains of her bed began to reveal their +pattern, the brass handles of the drawers gleamed forth, and day +dawned. While the light was yet no more than a suffusion of +pallor, she arose, put on her hat, and determined to explore the +surrounding premises before the men arrived. Emerging into +the raw loneliness of the daybreak, she went upon the bridge and +looked up and down the road. It was as she had left it, +empty, and the solitude was rendered yet more insistent by the +silence of the mill-wheel, which was now stopped, the miller +having given up expecting Bob and retired to bed about three +o’clock. The footprints of the marines still remained +in the dust on the bridge, all the heel-marks towards the house, +showing that the party had not as yet returned.</p> +<p>While she lingered she heard a slight noise in the other +direction, and, turning, saw a woman approaching. The woman +came up quickly, and, to her amazement, Anne recognized +Matilda. Her walk was convulsive, face pale, almost +haggard, and the cold light of the morning invested it with all +the ghostliness of death. She had plainly walked all the +way from Budmouth, for her shoes were covered with dust.</p> +<p>‘Has the press-gang been here?’ she gasped. +‘If not they are coming!’</p> +<p>‘They have been.’</p> +<p>‘And got him—I am too late!’</p> +<p>‘No; they are coming back again. Why did +you—’</p> +<p>‘I came to try to save him. Can we save him? +Where is he?’</p> +<p>Anne looked the woman in the face, and it was impossible to +doubt that she was in earnest.</p> +<p>‘I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘I +am trying to find him before they come.’</p> +<p>‘Will you not let me help you?’ cried the +repentant Matilda.</p> +<p>Without either objecting or assenting Anne turned and led the +way to the back part of the homestead.</p> +<p>Matilda, too, had suffered that night. From the moment +of parting with Festus Derriman a sentiment of revulsion from the +act to which she had been a party set in and increased, till at +length it reached an intensity of remorse which she could not +passively bear. She had risen before day and hastened +thitherward to know the worst, and if possible hinder +consequences that she had been the first to set in train.</p> +<p>After going hither and thither in the adjoining field, Anne +entered the garden. The walks were bathed in grey dew, and +as she passed observantly along them it appeared as if they had +been brushed by some foot at a much earlier hour. At the +end of the garden, bushes of broom, laurel, and yew formed a +constantly encroaching shrubbery, that had come there almost by +chance, and was never trimmed. Behind these bushes was a +garden-seat, and upon it lay Bob sound asleep.</p> +<p>The ends of his hair were clotted with damp, and there was a +foggy film upon the mirror-like buttons of his coat, and upon the +buckles of his shoes. His bunch of new gold seals was +dimmed by the same insidious dampness; his shirt-frill and muslin +neckcloth were limp as seaweed. It was plain that he had +been there a long time. Anne shook him, but he did not +awake, his breathing being slow and stertorous.</p> +<p>‘Bob, wake; ’tis your own Anne!’ she said, +with innocent earnestness; and then, fearfully turning her head, +she saw that Matilda was close behind her.</p> +<p>‘You needn’t mind me,’ said Matilda +bitterly. ‘I am on your side now. Shake him +again.’</p> +<p>Anne shook him again, but he slept on. Then she noticed +that his forehead bore the mark of a heavy wound.</p> +<p>‘I fancy I hear something!’ said her companion, +starting forward and endeavouring to wake Bob herself. +‘He is stunned, or drugged!’ she said; ‘there +is no rousing him.’</p> +<p>Anne raised her head and listened. From the direction of +the eastern road came the sound of a steady tramp. +‘They are coming back!’ she said, clasping her +hands. ‘They will take him, ill as he is! He +won’t open his eyes—no, it is no use! O, what +shall we do?’</p> +<p>Matilda did not reply, but running to the end of the seat on +which Bob lay, tried its weight in her arms.</p> +<p>‘It is not too heavy,’ she said. ‘You +take that end, and I’ll take this. We’ll carry +him away to some place of hiding.’</p> +<p>Anne instantly seized the other end, and they proceeded with +their burden at a slow pace to the lower garden-gate, which they +reached as the tread of the press-gang resounded over the bridge +that gave access to the mill court, now hidden from view by the +hedge and the trees of the garden.</p> +<p>‘We will go down inside this field,’ said Anne +faintly.</p> +<p>‘No!’ said the other; ‘they will see our +foot-tracks in the dew. We must go into the +road.’</p> +<p>‘It is the very road they will come down when they leave +the mill.’</p> +<p>‘It cannot be helped; it is neck or nothing with us +now.’</p> +<p>So they emerged upon the road, and staggered along without +speaking, occasionally resting for a moment to ease their arms; +then shaking him to arouse him, and finding it useless, seizing +the seat again. When they had gone about two hundred yards +Matilda betrayed signs of exhaustion, and she asked, ‘Is +there no shelter near?’</p> +<p>‘When we get to that little field of corn,’ said +Anne.</p> +<p>‘It is so very far. Surely there is some place +near?’</p> +<p>She pointed to a few scrubby bushes overhanging a little +stream, which passed under the road near this point.</p> +<p>‘They are not thick enough,’ said Anne.</p> +<p>‘Let us take him under the bridge,’ said +Matilda. ‘I can go no further.’</p> +<p>Entering the opening by which cattle descended to drink, they +waded into the weedy water, which here rose a few inches above +their ankles. To ascend the stream, stoop under the arch, +and reach the centre of the roadway, was the work of a few +minutes.</p> +<p>‘If they look under the arch we are lost,’ +murmured Anne.</p> +<p>‘There is no parapet to the bridge, and they may pass +over without heeding.’</p> +<p>They waited, their heads almost in contact with the reeking +arch, and their feet encircled by the stream, which was at its +summer lowness now. For some minutes they could hear +nothing but the babble of the water over their ankles, and round +the legs of the seat on which Bob slumbered, the sounds being +reflected in a musical tinkle from the hollow sides of the +arch. Anne’s anxiety now was lest he should not +continue sleeping till the search was over, but start up with his +habitual imprudence, and scorning such means of safety, rush out +into their arms.</p> +<p>A quarter of an hour dragged by, and then indications reached +their ears that the re-examination of the mill had begun and +ended. The well-known tramp drew nearer, and reverberated +through the ground over their heads, where its volume signified +to the listeners that the party had been largely augmented by +pressed men since the night preceding. The gang passed the +arch, and the noise regularly diminished, as if no man among them +had thought of looking aside for a moment.</p> +<p>Matilda broke the silence. ‘I wonder if they have +left a watch behind?’ she said doubtfully.</p> +<p>‘I will go and see,’ said Anne. ‘Wait +till I return.’</p> +<p>‘No; I can do no more. When you come back I shall +be gone. I ask one thing of you. If all goes well +with you and him, and he marries you—don’t be +alarmed; my plans lie elsewhere—when you are his wife tell +him who helped to carry him away. But don’t mention +my name to the rest of your family, either now or at any +time.’</p> +<p>Anne regarded the speaker for a moment, and promised; after +which she waded out from the archway.</p> +<p>Matilda stood looking at Bob for a moment, as if preparing to +go, till moved by some impulse she bent and lightly kissed him +once.</p> +<p>‘How can you!’ cried Anne reproachfully. +When leaving the mouth of the arch she had bent back and seen the +act.</p> +<p>Matilda flushed. ‘You jealous baby!’ she +said scornfully.</p> +<p>Anne hesitated for a moment, then went out from the water, and +hastened towards the mill.</p> +<p>She entered by the garden, and, seeing no one, advanced and +peeped in at the window. Her mother and Mr. Loveday were +sitting within as usual.</p> +<p>‘Are they all gone?’ said Anne softly.</p> +<p>‘Yes. They did not trouble us much, beyond going +into every room, and searching about the garden, where they saw +steps. They have been lucky to-night; they have caught +fifteen or twenty men at places further on; so the loss of Bob +was no hurt to their feelings. I wonder where in the world +the poor fellow is!’</p> +<p>‘I will show you,’ said Anne. And explaining +in a few words what had happened, she was promptly followed by +David and Loveday along the road. She lifted her dress and +entered the arch with some anxiety on account of Matilda; but the +actress was gone, and Bob lay on the seat as she had left +him.</p> +<p>Bob was brought out, and water thrown upon his face; but +though he moved he did not rouse himself until some time after he +had been borne into the house. Here he opened his eyes, and +saw them standing round, and gathered a little consciousness.</p> +<p>‘You are all right, my boy!’ said his +father. ‘What hev happened to ye? Where did ye +get that terrible blow?’</p> +<p>‘Ah—I can mind now,’ murmured Bob, with a +stupefied gaze around. ‘I fell in slipping down the +topsail halyard—the rope, that is, was too short—and +I fell upon my head. And then I went away. When I +came back I thought I wouldn’t disturb ye: so I lay down +out there, to sleep out the watch; but the pain in my head was so +great that I couldn’t get to sleep; so I picked some of the +poppy-heads in the border, which I once heard was a good thing +for sending folks to sleep when they are in pain. So I +munched up all I could find, and dropped off quite +nicely.’</p> +<p>‘I wondered who had picked ’em!’ said +Molly. ‘I noticed they were gone.’</p> +<p>‘Why, you might never have woke again!’ said Mrs. +Loveday, holding up her hands. ‘How is your head +now?’</p> +<p>‘I hardly know,’ replied the young man, putting +his hand to his forehead and beginning to doze again. +‘Where be those fellows that boarded us? With +this—smooth water and—fine breeze we ought to get +away from ’em. Haul in—the larboard braces, +and—bring her to the wind.’</p> +<p>‘You are at home, dear Bob,’ said Anne, bending +over him, ‘and the men are gone.’</p> +<p>‘Come along upstairs: th’ beest hardly awake +now,’ said his father and Bob was assisted to bed.</p> +<h2>XXXIII. A DISCOVERY TURNS THE SCALE</h2> +<p>In four-and-twenty hours Bob had recovered. But though +physically himself again, he was not at all sure of his position +as a patriot. He had that practical knowledge of seamanship +of which the country stood much in need, and it was humiliating +to find that impressment seemed to be necessary to teach him to +use it for her advantage. Many neighbouring young men, less +fortunate than himself, had been pressed and taken; and their +absence seemed a reproach to him. He went away by himself +into the mill-roof, and, surrounded by the corn-heaps, gave vent +to self-condemnation.</p> +<p>‘Certainly, I am no man to lie here so long for the +pleasure of sighting that young girl forty times a day, and +letting her sight me—bless her eyes!—till I must +needs want a press-gang to teach me what I’ve forgot. +And is it then all over with me as a British sailor? +We’ll see.’</p> +<p>When he was thrown under the influence of Anne’s eyes +again, which were more tantalizingly beautiful than ever just now +(so it seemed to him), his intention of offering his services to +the Government would wax weaker, and he would put off his final +decision till the next day. Anne saw these fluctuations of +his mind between love and patriotism, and being terrified by what +she had heard of sea-fights, used the utmost art of which she was +capable to seduce him from his forming purpose. She came to +him in the mill, wearing the very prettiest of her morning +jackets—the one that only just passed the waist, and was +laced so tastefully round the collar and bosom. Then she +would appear in her new hat, with a bouquet of primroses on one +side; and on the following Sunday she walked before him in +lemon-coloured boots, so that her feet looked like a pair of +yellow-hammers flitting under her dress.</p> +<p>But dress was the least of the means she adopted for chaining +him down. She talked more tenderly than ever; asked him to +begin small undertakings in the garden on her account; she sang +about the house, that the place might seem cheerful when he came +in. This singing for a purpose required great effort on her +part, leaving her afterwards very sad. When Bob asked her +what was the matter, she would say, ‘Nothing; only I am +thinking how you will grieve your father, and cross his purposes, +if you carry out your unkind notion of going to sea, and +forsaking your place in the mill.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ Bob would say uneasily. ‘It +will trouble him, I know.’</p> +<p>Being also quite aware how it would trouble her, he would +again postpone, and thus another week passed away.</p> +<p>All this time John had not come once to the mill. It +appeared as if Miss Johnson absorbed all his time and +thoughts. Bob was often seen chuckling over the +circumstance. ‘A sly rascal!’ he said. +‘Pretending on the day she came to be married that she was +not good enough for me, when it was only that he wanted her for +himself. How he could have persuaded her to go away is +beyond me to say!’</p> +<p>Anne could not contest this belief of her lover’s, and +remained silent; but there had more than once occurred to her +mind a doubt of its probability. Yet she had only abandoned +her opinion that John had schemed for Matilda, to embrace the +opposite error; that, finding he had wronged the young lady, he +had pitied and grown to love her.</p> +<p>‘And yet Jack, when he was a boy, was the simplest +fellow alive,’ resumed Bob. ‘By George, though, +I should have been hot against him for such a trick, if in losing +her I hadn’t found a better! But she’ll never +come down to him in the world: she has high notions now. I +am afraid he’s doomed to sigh in vain!’</p> +<p>Though Bob regretted this possibility, the feeling was not +reciprocated by Anne. It was true that she knew nothing of +Matilda’s temporary treachery, and that she disbelieved the +story of her lack of virtue; but she did not like the +woman. ‘Perhaps it will not matter if he is doomed to +sigh in vain,’ she said. ‘But I owe him no +ill-will. I have profited by his doings, incomprehensible +as they are.’ And she bent her fair eyes on Bob and +smiled.</p> +<p>Bob looked dubious. ‘He thinks he has affronted +me, now I have seen through him, and that I shall be against +meeting him. But, of course, I am not so touchy. I +can stand a practical joke, as can any man who has been +afloat. I’ll call and see him, and tell him +so.’</p> +<p>Before he started, Bob bethought him of something which would +still further prove to the misapprehending John that he was +entirely forgiven. He went to his room, and took from his +chest a packet containing a lock of Miss Johnson’s hair, +which she had given him during their brief acquaintance, and +which till now he had quite forgotten. When, at starting, +he wished Anne goodbye, it was accompanied by such a beaming +face, that she knew he was full of an idea, and asked what it +might be that pleased him so.</p> +<p>‘Why, this,’ he said, smacking his +breast-pocket. ‘A lock of hair that Matilda gave +me.’</p> +<p>Anne sank back with parted lips.</p> +<p>‘I am going to give it to Jack—he’ll jump +for joy to get it! And it will show him how willing I am to +give her up to him, fine piece as she is.’</p> +<p>‘Will you see her to-day, Bob?’ Anne asked with an +uncertain smile.</p> +<p>‘O no—unless it is by accident.’</p> +<p>On reaching the outskirts of the town he went straight to the +barracks, and was lucky enough to find John in his room, at the +left-hand corner of the quadrangle. John was glad to see +him; but to Bob’s surprise he showed no immediate +contrition, and thus afforded no room for the brotherly speech of +forgiveness which Bob had been going to deliver. As the +trumpet-major did not open the subject, Bob felt it desirable to +begin himself.</p> +<p>‘I have brought ye something that you will value, +Jack,’ he said, as they sat at the window, overlooking the +large square barrack-yard. ‘I have got no further use +for it, and you should have had it before if it had entered my +head.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, Bob; what is it?’ said John, looking +absently at an awkward squad of young men who were drilling in +the enclosure.</p> +<p>‘’Tis a young woman’s lock of +hair.’</p> +<p>‘Ah!’ said John, quite recovering from his +abstraction, and slightly flushing. Could Bob and Anne have +quarrelled? Bob drew the paper from his pocket, and opened +it.</p> +<p>‘Black!’ said John.</p> +<p>‘Yes—black enough.’</p> +<p>‘Whose?’</p> +<p>‘Why, Matilda’s.’</p> +<p>‘O, Matilda’s!’</p> +<p>‘Whose did you think then?’</p> +<p>Instead of replying, the trumpet-major’s face became as +red as sunset, and he turned to the window to hide his +confusion.</p> +<p>Bob was silent, and then he, too, looked into the court. +At length he arose, walked to his brother, and laid his hand upon +his shoulder. ‘Jack,’ he said, in an altered +voice, ‘you are a good fellow. Now I see it +all.’</p> +<p>‘O no—that’s nothing,’ said John +hastily.</p> +<p>‘You’ve been pretending that you care for this +woman that I mightn’t blame myself for heaving you out from +the other—which is what I’ve done without knowing +it.’</p> +<p>‘What does it matter?’</p> +<p>‘But it does matter! I’ve been making you +unhappy all these weeks and weeks through my +thoughtlessness. They seemed to think at home, you know, +John, that you had grown not to care for her; or I wouldn’t +have done it for all the world!’</p> +<p>‘You stick to her, Bob, and never mind me. She +belongs to you. She loves you. I have no claim upon +her, and she thinks nothing about me.’</p> +<p>‘She likes you, John, thoroughly well; so does +everybody; and if I hadn’t come home, putting my foot in +it— That coming home of mine has been a regular +blight upon the family! I ought never to have stayed. +The sea is my home, and why couldn’t I bide +there?’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major drew Bob’s discourse off the subject +as soon as he could, and Bob, after some unconsidered replies and +remarks, seemed willing to avoid it for the present. He did +not ask John to accompany him home, as he had intended; and on +leaving the barracks turned southward and entered the town to +wander about till he could decide what to do.</p> +<p>It was the 3rd of September, but the King’s +watering-place still retained its summer aspect. The royal +bathing-machine had been drawn out just as Bob reached Gloucester +Buildings, and he waited a minute, in the lack of other +distraction, to look on. Immediately that the King’s +machine had entered the water a group of florid men with fiddles, +violoncellos, a trombone, and a drum, came forward, packed +themselves into another machine that was in waiting, and were +drawn out into the waves in the King’s rear. All that +was to be heard for a few minutes were the slow pulsations of the +sea; and then a deafening noise burst from the interior of the +second machine with power enough to split the boards asunder; it +was the condensed mass of musicians inside, striking up the +strains of ‘God save the King,’ as his +Majesty’s head rose from the water. Bob took off his +hat and waited till the end of the performance, which, intended +as a pleasant surprise to George III. by the loyal burghers, was +possibly in the watery circumstances tolerated rather than +desired by that dripping monarch. <a name="citation303"></a><a +href="#footnote303" class="citation">[303]</a></p> +<p>Loveday then passed on to the harbour, where he remained +awhile, looking at the busy scene of loading and unloading craft +and swabbing the decks of yachts; at the boats and barges rubbing +against the quay wall, and at the houses of the merchants, some +ancient structures of solid stone, others green-shuttered with +heavy wooden bow-windows which appeared as if about to drop into +the harbour by their own weight. All these things he gazed +upon, and thought of one thing—that he had caused great +misery to his brother John.</p> +<p>The town clock struck, and Bob retraced his steps till he +again approached the Esplanade and Gloucester Lodge, where the +morning sun blazed in upon the house fronts, and not a spot of +shade seemed to be attainable. A huzzaing attracted his +attention, and he observed that a number of people had gathered +before the King’s residence, where a brown curricle had +stopped, out of which stepped a hale man in the prime of life, +wearing a blue uniform, gilt epaulettes, cocked hat, and sword, +who crossed the pavement and went in. Bob went up and +joined the group. ‘What’s going on?’ he +said.</p> +<p>‘Captain Hardy,’ replied a bystander.</p> +<p>‘What of him?’</p> +<p>‘Just gone in—waiting to see the King.’</p> +<p>‘But the captain is in the West Indies?’</p> +<p>‘No. The fleet is come home; they can’t find +the French anywhere.’</p> +<p>‘Will they go and look for them again?’ asked +Bob.</p> +<p>‘O yes. Nelson is determined to find +’em. As soon as he’s refitted he’ll put +to sea again. Ah, here’s the King coming +in.’</p> +<p>Bob was so interested in what he had just heard that he +scarcely noticed the arrival of the King, and a body of attendant +gentlemen. He went on thinking of his new knowledge; +Captain Hardy was come. He was doubtless staying with his +family at their small manor-house at Pos’ham, a few miles +from Overcombe, where he usually spent the intervals between his +different cruises.</p> +<p>Loveday returned to the mill without further delay; and +shortly explaining that John was very well, and would come soon, +went on to talk of the arrival of Nelson’s captain.</p> +<p>‘And is he come at last?’ said the miller, +throwing his thoughts years backward. ‘Well can I +mind when he first left home to go on board the Helena as +midshipman!’</p> +<p>‘That’s not much to remember. I can remember +it too,’ said Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>‘’Tis more than twenty years ago anyhow. And +more than that, I can mind when he was born; I was a lad, serving +my ‘prenticeship at the time. He has been in this +house often and often when ‘a was young. When he came +home after his first voyage he stayed about here a long time, and +used to look in at the mill whenever he went past. +“What will you be next, sir?” said mother to him one +day as he stood with his back to the doorpost. “A +lieutenant, Dame Loveday,” says he. “And what +next?” says she. “A commander.” +“And next?” “Next, +post-captain.” “And then?” +“Then it will be almost time to die.” I’d +warrant that he’d mind it to this very day if you were to +ask him.’</p> +<p>Bob heard all this with a manner of preoccupation, and soon +retired to the mill. Thence he went to his room by the back +passage, and taking his old seafaring garments from a dark closet +in the wall conveyed them to the loft at the top of the mill, +where he occupied the remaining spare moments of the day in +brushing the mildew from their folds, and hanging each article by +the window to get aired. In the evening he returned to the +loft, and dressing himself in the old salt suit, went out of the +house unobserved by anybody, and ascended the road towards +Captain Hardy’s native village and present temporary +home.</p> +<p>The shadeless downs were now brown with the droughts of the +passing summer, and few living things met his view, the natural +rotundity of the elevation being only occasionally disturbed by +the presence of a barrow, a thorn-bush, or a piece of dry wall +which remained from some attempted enclosure. By the time +that he reached the village it was dark, and the larger stars had +begun to shine when he walked up to the door of the old-fashioned +house which was the family residence of this branch of the +South-Wessex Hardys.</p> +<p>‘Will the captain allow me to wait on him +to-night?’ inquired Loveday, explaining who and what he +was.</p> +<p>The servant went away for a few minutes, and then told Bob +that he might see the captain in the morning.</p> +<p>‘If that’s the case, I’ll come again,’ +replied Bob, quite cheerful that failure was not absolute.</p> +<p>He had left the door but a few steps when he was called back +and asked if he had walked all the way from Overcombe Mill on +purpose.</p> +<p>Loveday replied modestly that he had done so.</p> +<p>‘Then will you come in?’ He followed the +speaker into a small study or office, and in a minute or two +Captain Hardy entered.</p> +<p>The captain at this time was a bachelor of thirty-five, rather +stout in build, with light eyes, bushy eyebrows, a square broad +face, plenty of chin, and a mouth whose corners played between +humour and grimness. He surveyed Loveday from top to +toe.</p> +<p>‘Robert Loveday, sir, son of the miller at +Overcombe,’ said Bob, making a low bow.</p> +<p>‘Ah! I remember your father, Loveday,’ the +gallant seaman replied. ‘Well, what do you want to +say to me?’ Seeing that Bob found it rather difficult +to begin, he leant leisurely against the mantelpiece, and went +on, ‘Is your father well and hearty? I have not seen +him for many, many years.’</p> +<p>‘Quite well, thank ’ee.’</p> +<p>‘You used to have a brother in the army, I think? +What was his name—John? A very fine fellow, if I +recollect.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, cap’n; he’s there still.’</p> +<p>‘And you are in the merchant-service?’</p> +<p>‘Late first mate of the brig Pewit.’</p> +<p>‘How is it you’re not on board a +man-of-war?’</p> +<p>‘Ay, sir, that’s the thing I’ve come +about,’ said Bob, recovering confidence. ‘I +should have been, but ’tis womankind has hampered me. +I’ve waited and waited on at home because of a young +woman—lady, I might have said, for she’s sprung from +a higher class of society than I. Her father was a +landscape painter—maybe you’ve heard of him, +sir? The name is Garland.’</p> +<p>‘He painted that view of our village here,’ said +Captain Hardy, looking towards a dark little picture in the +corner of the room.</p> +<p>Bob looked, and went on, as if to the picture, ‘Well, +sir, I have found that— However, the press-gang came +a week or two ago, and didn’t get hold of me. I +didn’t care to go aboard as a pressed man.’</p> +<p>‘There has been a severe impressment. It is of +course a disagreeable necessity, but it can’t be +helped.’</p> +<p>‘Since then, sir, something has happened that makes me +wish they had found me, and I have come to-night to ask if I +could enter on board your ship the Victory.’</p> +<p>The captain shook his head severely, and presently observed: +‘I am glad to find that you think of entering the service, +Loveday; smart men are badly wanted. But it will not be in +your power to choose your ship.’</p> +<p>‘Well, well, sir; then I must take my chance +elsewhere,’ said Bob, his face indicating the +disappointment he would not fully express. +‘’Twas only that I felt I would much rather serve +under you than anybody else, my father and all of us being known +to ye, Captain Hardy, and our families belonging to the same +parts.’</p> +<p>Captain Hardy took Bob’s altitude more carefully. +‘Are you a good practical seaman?’ he asked +musingly.</p> +<p>‘Ay, sir; I believe I am.’</p> +<p>‘Active? Fond of skylarking?’</p> +<p>‘Well, I don’t know about the last. I think +I can say I am active enough. I could walk the yard-arm, if +required, cross from mast to mast by the stays, and do what most +fellows do who call themselves spry.’</p> +<p>The captain then put some questions about the details of +navigation, which Loveday, having luckily been used to square +rigs, answered satisfactorily. ‘As to reefing +topsails,’ he added, ‘if I don’t do it like a +flash of lightning, I can do it so that they will stand blowing +weather. The Pewit was not a dull vessel, and when we were +convoyed home from Lisbon, she could keep well in sight of the +frigate scudding at a distance, by putting on full sail. We +had enough hands aboard to reef topsails man-o’-war +fashion, which is a rare thing in these days, sir, now that able +seamen are so scarce on trading craft. And I hear that men +from square-rigged vessels are liked much the best in the navy, +as being more ready for use? So that I shouldn’t be +altogether so raw,’ said Bob earnestly, ‘if I could +enter on your ship, sir. Still, if I can’t, I +can’t.’</p> +<p>‘I might ask for you, Loveday,’ said the captain +thoughtfully, ‘and so get you there that way. In +short, I think I may say I will ask for you. So consider it +settled.’</p> +<p>‘My thanks to you, sir,’ said Loveday.</p> +<p>‘You are aware that the Victory is a smart ship, and +that cleanliness and order are, of necessity, more strictly +insisted upon there than in some others?’</p> +<p>‘Sir, I quite see it.’</p> +<p>‘Well, I hope you will do your duty as well on a +line-of-battle ship as you did when mate of the brig, for it is a +duty that may be serious.’</p> +<p>Bob replied that it should be his one endeavour; and receiving +a few instructions for getting on board the guard-ship, and being +conveyed to Portsmouth, he turned to go away.</p> +<p>‘You’ll have a stiff walk before you fetch +Overcombe Mill this dark night, Loveday,’ concluded the +captain, peering out of the window. ‘I’ll send +you in a glass of grog to help ’ee on your way.’</p> +<p>The captain then left Bob to himself, and when he had drunk +the grog that was brought in he started homeward, with a heart +not exactly light, but large with a patriotic cheerfulness, which +had not diminished when, after walking so fast in his excitement +as to be beaded with perspiration, he entered his father’s +door.</p> +<p>They were all sitting up for him, and at his approach +anxiously raised their sleepy eyes, for it was nearly eleven +o’clock.</p> +<p>‘There; I knew he’d not be much longer!’ +cried Anne, jumping up and laughing, in her relief. +‘They have been thinking you were very strange and silent +to-day, Bob; you were not, were you?’</p> +<p>‘What’s the matter, Bob?’ said the miller; +for Bob’s countenance was sublimed by his recent interview, +like that of a priest just come from the penetralia of the +temple.</p> +<p>‘He’s in his mate’s clothes, just as when he +came home!’ observed Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>They all saw now that he had something to tell. ‘I +am going away,’ he said when he had sat down. +‘I am going to enter on board a man-of-war, and perhaps it +will be the Victory.’</p> +<p>‘Going?’ said Anne faintly.</p> +<p>‘Now, don’t you mind it, there’s a +dear,’ he went on solemnly, taking her hand in his +own. ‘And you, father, don’t you begin to take +it to heart’ (the miller was looking grave). +‘The press-gang has been here, and though I showed them +that I was a free man, I am going to show everybody that I can do +my duty.’</p> +<p>Neither of the other three answered, Anne and the miller +having their eyes bent upon the ground, and the former trying to +repress her tears.</p> +<p>‘Now don’t you grieve, either of you,’ he +continued; ‘nor vex yourselves that this has +happened. Please not to be angry with me, father, for +deserting you and the mill, where you want me, for I <i>must +go</i>. For these three years we and the rest of the +country have been in fear of the enemy; trade has been hindered; +poor folk made hungry; and many rich folk made poor. There +must be a deliverance, and it must be done by sea. I have +seen Captain Hardy, and I shall serve under him if so be I +can.’</p> +<p>‘Captain Hardy?’</p> +<p>‘Yes. I have been to his house at Pos’ham, +where he’s staying with his sisters; walked there and back, +and I wouldn’t have missed it for fifty guineas. I +hardly thought he would see me; but he did see me. And he +hasn’t forgot you.’</p> +<p>Bob then opened his tale in order, relating graphically the +conversation to which he had been a party, and they listened with +breathless attention.</p> +<p>‘Well, if you must go, you must,’ said the miller +with emotion; ‘but I think it somewhat hard that, of my two +sons, neither one of ’em can be got to stay and help me in +my business as I get old.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t trouble and vex about it,’ said Mrs. +Loveday soothingly. ‘They are both instruments in the +hands of Providence, chosen to chastise that Corsican ogre, and +do what they can for the country in these trying +years.’</p> +<p>‘That’s just the shape of it, Mrs. Loveday,’ +said Bob.</p> +<p>‘And he’ll come back soon,’ she continued, +turning to Anne. ‘And then he’ll tell us all he +has seen, and the glory that he’s won, and how he has +helped to sweep that scourge Buonaparty off the earth.’</p> +<p>‘When be you going, Bob?’ his father inquired.</p> +<p>‘To-morrow, if I can. I shall call at the barracks +and tell John as I go by. When I get to +Portsmouth—’</p> +<p>A burst of sobs in quick succession interrupted his words; +they came from Anne, who till that moment had been sitting as +before with her hand in that of Bob, and apparently quite +calm. Mrs. Loveday jumped up, but before she could say +anything to soothe the agitated girl she had calmed herself with +the same singular suddenness that had marked her giving +way. ‘I don’t mind Bob’s going,’ +she said. ‘I think he ought to go. Don’t +suppose, Bob, that I want you to stay!’</p> +<p>After this she left the apartment, and went into the little +side room where she and her mother usually worked. In a few +moments Bob followed her. When he came back he was in a +very sad and emotional mood. Anybody could see that there +had been a parting of profound anguish to both.</p> +<p>‘She is not coming back to-night,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘You will see her to-morrow before you go?’ said +her mother.</p> +<p>‘I may or I may not,’ he replied. +‘Father and Mrs. Loveday, do you go to bed now. I +have got to look over my things and get ready; and it will take +me some little time. If you should hear noises you will +know it is only myself moving about.’</p> +<p>When Bob was left alone he suddenly became brisk, and set +himself to overhaul his clothes and other possessions in a +business-like manner. By the time that his chest was +packed, such things as he meant to leave at home folded into +cupboards, and what was useless destroyed, it was past two +o’clock. Then he went to bed, so softly that only the +creak of one weak stair revealed his passage upward. At the +moment that he passed Anne’s chamber-door her mother was +bending over her as she lay in bed, and saying to her, +‘Won’t you see him in the morning?’</p> +<p>‘No, no,’ said Anne. ‘I would rather +not see him! I have said that I may. But I shall +not. I cannot see him again!’</p> +<p>When the family got up next day Bob had vanished. It was +his way to disappear like this, to avoid affecting scenes at +parting. By the time that they had sat down to a gloomy +breakfast, Bob was in the boat of a Budmouth waterman, who pulled +him alongside the guardship in the roads, where he laid hold of +the man-rope, mounted, and disappeared from external view. +In the course of the day the ship moved off, set her royals, and +made sail for Portsmouth, with five hundred new hands for the +service on board, consisting partly of pressed men and partly of +volunteers, among the latter being Robert Loveday.</p> +<h2>XXXIV. A SPECK ON THE SEA</h2> +<p>In parting from John, who accompanied him to the quay, Bob had +said: ‘Now, Jack, these be my last words to you: I give her +up. I go away on purpose, and I shall be away a long +time. If in that time she should list over towards ye ever +so little, mind you take her. You have more right to her +than I. You chose her when my mind was elsewhere, and you +best deserve her; for I have never known you forget one woman, +while I’ve forgot a dozen. Take her then, if she will +come, and God bless both of ye.’</p> +<p>Another person besides John saw Bob go. That was +Derriman, who was standing by a bollard a little further up the +quay. He did not repress his satisfaction at the +sight. John looked towards him with an open gaze of +contempt; for the cuffs administered to the yeoman at the inn had +not, so far as the trumpet-major was aware, produced any desire +to avenge that insult, John being, of course, quite ignorant that +Festus had erroneously retaliated upon Bob, in his peculiar +though scarcely soldierly way. Finding that he did not even +now approach him, John went on his way, and thought over his +intention of preserving intact the love between Anne and his +brother.</p> +<p>He was surprised when he next went to the mill to find how +glad they all were to see him. From the moment of +Bob’s return to the bosom of the deep Anne had had no +existence on land; people might have looked at her human body and +said she had flitted thence. The sea and all that belonged +to the sea was her daily thought and her nightly dream. She +had the whole two-and-thirty winds under her eye, each passing +gale that ushered in returning autumn being mentally registered; +and she acquired a precise knowledge of the direction in which +Portsmouth, Brest, Ferrol, Cadiz, and other such likely places +lay. Instead of saying her own familiar prayers at night +she substituted, with some confusion of thought, the Forms of +Prayer to be used at sea. John at once noticed her lorn, +abstracted looks, pitied her,—how much he pitied +her!—and asked when they were alone if there was anything +he could do.</p> +<p>‘There are two things,’ she said, with almost +childish eagerness in her tired eyes.</p> +<p>‘They shall be done.’</p> +<p>‘The first is to find out if Captain Hardy has gone back +to his ship; and the other is—O if you will do it, +John!—to get me newspapers whenever possible.’</p> +<p>After this duologue John was absent for a space of three +hours, and they thought he had gone back to barracks. He +entered, however, at the end of that time, took off his +forage-cap, and wiped his forehead.</p> +<p>‘You look tired, John,’ said his father.</p> +<p>‘O no.’ He went through the house till he +had found Anne Garland.</p> +<p>‘I have only done one of those things,’ he said to +her.</p> +<p>‘What, already! I didn’t hope for or mean +to-day.’</p> +<p>‘Captain Hardy is gone from Pos’ham. He left +some days ago. We shall soon hear that the fleet has +sailed.’</p> +<p>‘You have been all the way to Pos’ham on +purpose? How good of you!’</p> +<p>‘Well, I was anxious to know myself when Bob is likely +to leave. I expect now that we shall soon hear from +him.’</p> +<p>Two days later he came again. He brought a newspaper, +and what was better, a letter for Anne, franked by the first +lieutenant of the Victory.</p> +<p>‘Then he’s aboard her,’ said Anne, as she +eagerly took the letter.</p> +<p>It was short, but as much as she could expect in the +circumstances, and informed them that the captain had been as +good as his word, and had gratified Bob’s earnest wish to +serve under him. The ship, with Admiral Lord Nelson on +board, and accompanied by the frigate Euryalus, was to sail in +two days for Plymouth, where they would be joined by others, and +thence proceed to the coast of Spain.</p> +<p>Anne lay awake that night thinking of the Victory, and of +those who floated in her. To the best of Anne’s +calculation that ship of war would, during the next twenty-four +hours, pass within a few miles of where she herself then +lay. Next to seeing Bob, the thing that would give her more +pleasure than any other in the world was to see the vessel that +contained him—his floating city, his sole dependence in +battle and storm—upon whose safety from winds and enemies +hung all her hope.</p> +<p>The morrow was market-day at the seaport, and in this she saw +her opportunity. A carrier went from Overcombe at six +o’clock thither, and having to do a little shopping for +herself she gave it as a reason for her intended day’s +absence, and took a place in the van. When she reached the +town it was still early morning, but the borough was already in +the zenith of its daily bustle and show. The King was +always out-of-doors by six o’clock, and such cock-crow +hours at Gloucester Lodge produced an equally forward stir among +the population. She alighted, and passed down the +esplanade, as fully thronged by persons of fashion at this time +of mist and level sunlight as a watering-place in the present day +is at four in the afternoon. Dashing bucks and beaux in +cocked hats, black feathers, ruffles, and frills, stared at her +as she hurried along; the beach was swarming with bathing women, +wearing waistbands that bore the national refrain, ‘God +save the King,’ in gilt letters; the shops were all open, +and Sergeant Stanner, with his sword-stuck bank-notes and heroic +gaze, was beating up at two guineas and a crown, the crown to +drink his Majesty’s health.</p> +<p>She soon finished her shopping, and then, crossing over into +the old town, pursued her way along the coast-road to +Portland. At the end of an hour she had been rowed across +the Fleet (which then lacked the convenience of a bridge), and +reached the base of Portland Hill. The steep incline before +her was dotted with houses, showing the pleasant peculiarity of +one man’s doorstep being behind his neighbour’s +chimney, and slabs of stone as the common material for walls, +roof, floor, pig-sty, stable-manger, door-scraper, and +garden-stile. Anne gained the summit, and followed along +the central track over the huge lump of freestone which forms the +peninsula, the wide sea prospect extending as she went on. +Weary with her journey, she approached the extreme southerly peak +of rock, and gazed from the cliff at Portland Bill, or Beal, as +it was in those days more correctly called.</p> +<p>The wild, herbless, weather-worn promontory was quite a +solitude, and, saving the one old lighthouse about fifty yards up +the slope, scarce a mark was visible to show that humanity had +ever been near the spot. Anne found herself a seat on a +stone, and swept with her eyes the tremulous expanse of water +around her that seemed to utter a ceaseless unintelligible +incantation. Out of the three hundred and sixty degrees of +her complete horizon two hundred and fifty were covered by waves, +the coup d’oeil including the area of troubled waters known +as the Race, where two seas met to effect the destruction of such +vessels as could not be mastered by one. She counted the +craft within her view: there were five; no, there were only four; +no, there were seven, some of the specks having resolved +themselves into two. They were all small coasters, and kept +well within sight of land.</p> +<p>Anne sank into a reverie. Then she heard a slight noise +on her left hand, and turning beheld an old sailor, who had +approached with a glass. He was levelling it over the sea +in a direction to the south-east, and somewhat removed from that +in which her own eyes had been wandering. Anne moved a few +steps thitherward, so as to unclose to her view a deeper sweep on +that side, and by this discovered a ship of far larger size than +any which had yet dotted the main before her. Its sails +were for the most part new and clean, and in comparison with its +rapid progress before the wind the small brigs and ketches seemed +standing still. Upon this striking object the old +man’s glass was bent.</p> +<p>‘What do you see, sailor?’ she asked.</p> +<p>‘Almost nothing,’ he answered. ‘My +sight is so gone off lately that things, one and all, be but a +November mist to me. And yet I fain would see to-day. +I am looking for the Victory.’</p> +<p>‘Why,’ she said quickly.</p> +<p>‘I have a son aboard her. He’s one of three +from these parts. There’s the captain, there’s +my son Ned, and there’s young Loveday of Overcombe—he +that lately joined.’</p> +<p>‘Shall I look for you?’ said Anne, after a +pause.</p> +<p>‘Certainly, mis’ess, if so be you +please.’</p> +<p>Anne took the glass, and he supported it by his arm. +‘It is a large ship,’ she said, ‘with three +masts, three rows of guns along the side, and all her sails +set.’</p> +<p>‘I guessed as much.’</p> +<p>‘There is a little flag in front—over her +bowsprit.’</p> +<p>‘The jack.’</p> +<p>‘And there’s a large one flying at her +stern.’</p> +<p>‘The ensign.’</p> +<p>‘And a white one on her fore-topmast.’</p> +<p>‘That’s the admiral’s flag, the flag of my +Lord Nelson. What is her figure-head, my dear?’</p> +<p>‘A coat-of-arms, supported on this side by a +sailor.’</p> +<p>Her companion nodded with satisfaction. ‘On the +other side of that figure-head is a marine.’</p> +<p>‘She is twisting round in a curious way, and her sails +sink in like old cheeks, and she shivers like a leaf upon a +tree.’</p> +<p>‘She is in stays, for the larboard tack. I can see +what she’s been doing. She’s been +re’ching close in to avoid the flood tide, as the wind is +to the sou’-west, and she’s bound down; but as soon +as the ebb made, d’ye see, they made sail to the +west’ard. Captain Hardy may be depended upon for +that; he knows every current about here, being a +native.’</p> +<p>‘And now I can see the other side; it is a soldier where +a sailor was before. You are <i>sure</i> it is the +Victory?’</p> +<p>‘I am sure.’</p> +<p>After this a frigate came into view—the +Euryalus—sailing in the same direction. Anne sat +down, and her eyes never left the ships. ‘Tell me +more about the Victory,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘She is the best sailer in the service, and she carries +a hundred guns. The heaviest be on the lower deck, the next +size on the middle deck, the next on the main and upper +decks. My son Ned’s place is on the lower deck, +because he’s short, and they put the short men +below.’</p> +<p>Bob, though not tall, was not likely to be specially selected +for shortness. She pictured him on the upper deck, in his +snow-white trousers and jacket of navy blue, looking perhaps +towards the very point of land where she then was.</p> +<p>The great silent ship, with her population of blue-jackets, +marines, officers, captain, and the admiral who was not to return +alive, passed like a phantom the meridian of the Bill. +Sometimes her aspect was that of a large white bat, sometimes +that of a grey one. In the course of time the watching girl +saw that the ship had passed her nearest point; the breadth of +her sails diminished by foreshortening, till she assumed the form +of an egg on end. After this something seemed to twinkle, +and Anne, who had previously withdrawn from the old sailor, went +back to him, and looked again through the glass. The +twinkling was the light falling upon the cabin windows of the +ship’s stern. She explained it to the old man.</p> +<p>‘Then we see now what the enemy have seen but +once. That was in seventy-nine, when she sighted the French +and Spanish fleet off Scilly, and she retreated because she +feared a landing. Well, ’tis a brave ship and she +carries brave men!’</p> +<p>Anne’s tender bosom heaved, but she said nothing, and +again became absorbed in contemplation.</p> +<p>The Victory was fast dropping away. She was on the +horizon, and soon appeared hull down. That seemed to be +like the beginning of a greater end than her present +vanishing. Anne Garland could not stay by the sailor any +longer, and went about a stone’s-throw off, where she was +hidden by the inequality of the cliff from his view. The +vessel was now exactly end on, and stood out in the direction of +the Start, her width having contracted to the proportion of a +feather. She sat down again, and mechanically took out some +biscuits that she had brought, foreseeing that her waiting might +be long. But she could not eat one of them; eating seemed +to jar with the mental tenseness of the moment; and her +undeviating gaze continued to follow the lessened ship with the +fidelity of a balanced needle to a magnetic stone, all else in +her being motionless.</p> +<p>The courses of the Victory were absorbed into the main, then +her topsails went, and then her top-gallants. She was now +no more than a dead fly’s wing on a sheet of spider’s +web; and even this fragment diminished. Anne could hardly +bear to see the end, and yet she resolved not to flinch. +The admiral’s flag sank behind the watery line, and in a +minute the very truck of the last topmast stole away. The +Victory was gone.</p> +<p>Anne’s lip quivered as she murmured, without removing +her wet eyes from the vacant and solemn horizon, +‘“They that go down to the sea in ships, that do +business in great waters—”’</p> +<p>‘“These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders +in the deep,”’ was returned by a man’s voice +from behind her.</p> +<p>Looking round quickly, she saw a soldier standing there; and +the grave eyes of John Loveday bent on her.</p> +<p>‘’Tis what I was thinking,’ she said, trying +to be composed.</p> +<p>‘You were saying it,’ he answered gently.</p> +<p>‘Was I?—I did not know it. . . . How came +you here?’ she presently added.</p> +<p>‘I have been behind you a good while; but you never +turned round.’</p> +<p>‘I was deeply occupied,’ she said in an +undertone.</p> +<p>‘Yes—I too came to see him pass. I heard +this morning that Lord Nelson had embarked, and I knew at once +that they would sail immediately. The Victory and Euryalus +are to join the rest of the fleet at Plymouth. There was a +great crowd of people assembled to see the admiral off; they +cheered him and the ship as she dropped down. He took his +coffin on board with him, they say.’</p> +<p>‘His coffin!’ said Anne, turning deadly +pale. ‘Something terrible, then, is meant by +that! O, why <i>would</i> Bob go in that ship? doomed to +destruction from the very beginning like this!’</p> +<p>‘It was his determination to sail under Captain Hardy, +and under no one else,’ said John. ‘There may +be hot work; but we must hope for the best.’ And +observing how wretched she looked, he added, ‘But +won’t you let me help you back? If you can walk as +far as Hope Cove it will be enough. A lerret is going from +there across the bay homeward to the harbour in the course of an +hour; it belongs to a man I know, and they can take one +passenger, I am sure.’</p> +<p>She turned her back upon the Channel, and by his help soon +reached the place indicated. The boat was lying there as he +had said. She found it to belong to the old man who had +been with her at the Bill, and was in charge of his two younger +sons. The trumpet-major helped her into it over the +slippery blocks of stone, one of the young men spread his jacket +for her to sit on, and as soon as they pulled from shore John +climbed up the blue-grey cliff, and disappeared over the top, to +return to the mainland by road.</p> +<p>Anne was in the town by three o’clock. The trip in +the stern of the lerret had quite refreshed her, with the help of +the biscuits, which she had at last been able to eat. The +van from the port to Overcombe did not start till four +o’clock, and feeling no further interest in the gaieties of +the place, she strolled on past the King’s house to the +outskirts, her mind settling down again upon the possibly sad +fate of the Victory when she found herself alone. She did +not hurry on; and finding that even now there wanted another +half-hour to the carrier’s time, she turned into a little +lane to escape the inspection of the numerous passers-by. +Here all was quite lonely and still, and she sat down under a +willow-tree, absently regarding the landscape, which had begun to +put on the rich tones of declining summer, but which to her was +as hollow and faded as a theatre by day. She could hold out +no longer; burying her face in her hands, she wept without +restraint.</p> +<p>Some yards behind her was a little spring of water, having a +stone margin round it to prevent the cattle from treading in the +sides and filling it up with dirt. While she wept, two +elderly gentlemen entered unperceived upon the scene, and walked +on to the spring’s brink. Here they paused and looked +in, afterwards moving round it, and then stooping as if to smell +or taste its waters. The spring was, in fact, a sulphurous +one, then recently discovered by a physician who lived in the +neighbourhood; and it was beginning to attract some attention, +having by common report contributed to effect such wonderful +cures as almost passed belief. After a considerable +discussion, apparently on how the pool might be improved for +better use, one of the two elderly gentlemen turned away, leaving +the other still probing the spring with his cane. The first +stranger, who wore a blue coat with gilt buttons, came on in the +direction of Anne Garland, and seeing her sad posture went +quickly up to her, and said abruptly, ‘What is the +matter?’</p> +<p>Anne, who in her grief had observed nothing of the +gentlemen’s presence, withdrew her handkerchief from her +eyes and started to her feet. She instantly recognised her +interrogator as the King.</p> +<p>‘What, what, crying?’ his Majesty inquired +kindly. ‘How is this!’</p> +<p>‘I—have seen a dear friend go away, sir,’ +she faltered, with downcast eyes.</p> +<p>‘Ah—partings are sad—very sad—for us +all. You must hope your friend will return soon. +Where is he or she gone?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know, your Majesty.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t know—how is that?’</p> +<p>‘He is a sailor on board the Victory.’</p> +<p>‘Then he has reason to be proud,’ said the King +with interest. ‘He is your brother?’</p> +<p>Anne tried to explain what he was, but could not, and blushed +with painful heat.</p> +<p>‘Well, well, well; what is his name?’</p> +<p>In spite of Anne’s confusion and low spirits, her +womanly shrewdness told her at once that no harm could be done by +revealing Bob’s name; and she answered, ‘His name is +Robert Loveday, sir.’</p> +<p>‘Loveday—a good name. I shall not forget +it. Now dry your cheeks, and don’t cry any +more. Loveday—Robert Loveday.’</p> +<p>Anne curtseyed, the King smiled good-humouredly, and turned to +rejoin his companion, who was afterwards heard to be Dr. ---, the +physician in attendance at Gloucester Lodge. This gentleman +had in the meantime filled a small phial with the medicinal +water, which he carefully placed in his pocket; and on the King +coming up they retired together and disappeared. Thereupon +Anne, now thoroughly aroused, followed the same way with a +gingerly tread, just in time to see them get into a carriage +which was in waiting at the turning of the lane.</p> +<p>She quite forgot the carrier, and everything else in connexion +with riding home. Flying along the road rapidly and +unconsciously, when she awoke to a sense of her whereabouts she +was so near to Overcombe as to make the carrier not worth waiting +for. She had been borne up in this hasty spurt at the end +of a weary day by visions of Bob promoted to the rank of admiral, +or something equally wonderful, by the King’s special +command, the chief result of the promotion being, in her +arrangement of the piece, that he would stay at home and go to +sea no more. But she was not a girl who indulged in +extravagant fancies long, and before she reached home she thought +that the King had probably forgotten her by that time, and her +troubles, and her lover’s name.</p> +<h2>XXXV. A SAILOR ENTERS</h2> +<p>The remaining fortnight of the month of September passed away, +with a general decline from the summer’s excitements. +The royal family left the watering-place the first week in +October, the German Legion with their artillery about the same +time. The dragoons still remained at the barracks just out +of the town, and John Loveday brought to Anne every newspaper +that he could lay hands on, especially such as contained any +fragment of shipping news. This threw them much together; +and at these times John was often awkward and confused, on +account of the unwonted stress of concealing his great love for +her.</p> +<p>Her interests had grandly developed from the limits of +Overcombe and the town life hard by, to an extensiveness truly +European. During the whole month of October, however, not a +single grain of information reached her, or anybody else, +concerning Nelson and his blockading squadron off Cadiz. +There were the customary bad jokes about Buonaparte, especially +when it was found that the whole French army had turned its back +upon Boulogne and set out for the Rhine. Then came accounts +of his march through Germany and into Austria; but not a word +about the Victory.</p> +<p>At the beginning of autumn John brought news which fearfully +depressed her. The Austrian General Mack had capitulated +with his whole army. Then were revived the old misgivings +as to invasion. ‘Instead of having to cope with him +weary with waiting, we shall have to encounter This Man fresh +from the fields of victory,’ ran the newspaper article.</p> +<p>But the week which had led off with such a dreary piping was +to end in another key. On the very day when Mack’s +army was piling arms at the feet of its conqueror, a blow had +been struck by Bob Loveday and his comrades which eternally +shattered the enemy’s force by sea. Four days after +the receipt of the Austrian news Corporal Tullidge ran into the +miller’s house to inform him that on the previous Monday, +at eleven in the morning, the Pickle schooner, Lieutenant +Lapenotiere, had arrived at Falmouth with despatches from the +fleet; that the stage-coaches on the highway through Wessex to +London were chalked with the words ‘Great Victory!’ +‘Glorious Triumph!’ and so on; and that all the +country people were wild to know particulars.</p> +<p>On Friday afternoon John arrived with authentic news of the +battle off Cape Trafalgar, and the death of Nelson. Captain +Hardy was alive, though his escape had been narrow enough, his +shoe-buckle having been carried away by a shot. It was +feared that the Victory had been the scene of the heaviest +slaughter among all the ships engaged, but as yet no returns of +killed and wounded had been issued, beyond a rough list of the +numbers in some of the ships.</p> +<p>The suspense of the little household in Overcombe Mill was +great in the extreme. John came thither daily for more than +a week; but no further particulars reached England till the end +of that time, and then only the meagre intelligence that there +had been a gale immediately after the battle, and that many of +the prizes had been lost. Anne said little to all these +things, and preserved a superstratum of calmness on her +countenance; but some inner voice seemed to whisper to her that +Bob was no more. Miller Loveday drove to Pos’ham +several times to learn if the Captain’s sisters had +received any more definite tidings than these flying reports; but +that family had heard nothing which could in any way relieve the +miller’s anxiety. When at last, at the end of +November, there appeared a final and revised list of killed and +wounded as issued by Admiral Collingwood, it was a useless sheet +to the Lovedays. To their great pain it contained no names +but those of officers, the friends of ordinary seamen and marines +being in those good old days left to discover their losses as +best they might.</p> +<p>Anne’s conviction of her loss increased with the +darkening of the early winter time. Bob was not a cautious +man who would avoid needless exposure, and a hundred and fifty of +the Victory’s crew had been disabled or slain. +Anybody who had looked into her room at this time would have seen +that her favourite reading was the office for the Burial of the +Dead at Sea, beginning ‘We therefore commit his body to the +deep.’ In these first days of December several of the +victorious fleet came into port; but not the Victory. Many +supposed that that noble ship, disabled by the battle, had gone +to the bottom in the subsequent tempestuous weather; and the +belief was persevered in till it was told in the town and port +that she had been seen passing up the Channel. Two days +later the Victory arrived at Portsmouth.</p> +<p>Then letters from survivors began to appear in the public +prints which John so regularly brought to Anne; but though he +watched the mails with unceasing vigilance there was never a +letter from Bob. It sometimes crossed John’s mind +that his brother might still be alive and well, and that in his +wish to abide by his expressed intention of giving up Anne and +home life he was deliberately lax in writing. If so, Bob +was carrying out the idea too thoughtlessly by half, as could be +seen by watching the effects of suspense upon the fair face of +the victim, and the anxiety of the rest of the family.</p> +<p>It was a clear day in December. The first slight snow of +the season had been sifted over the earth, and one side of the +apple-tree branches in the miller’s garden was touched with +white, though a few leaves were still lingering on the tops of +the younger trees. A short sailor of the Royal Navy, who +was not Bob, nor anything like him, crossed the mill court and +came to the door. The miller hastened out and brought him +into the room, where John, Mrs. Loveday, and Anne Garland were +all present.</p> +<p>‘I’m from aboard the Victory,’ said the +sailor. ‘My name’s Jim Cornick. And your +lad is alive and well.’</p> +<p>They breathed rather than spoke their thankfulness and relief, +the miller’s eyes being moist as he turned aside to calm +himself; while Anne, having first jumped up wildly from her seat, +sank back again under the almost insupportable joy that trembled +through her limbs to her utmost finger.</p> +<p>‘I’ve come from Spithead to Pos’ham,’ +the sailor continued, ‘and now I am going on to father at +Budmouth.’</p> +<p>‘Ah!—I know your father,’ cried the +trumpet-major, ‘old James Cornick.’</p> +<p>It was the man who had brought Anne in his lerret from +Portland Bill.</p> +<p>‘And Bob hasn’t got a scratch?’ said the +miller.</p> +<p>‘Not a scratch,’ said Cornick.</p> +<p>Loveday then bustled off to draw the visitor something to +drink. Anne Garland, with a glowing blush on her face, had +gone to the back part of the room, where she was the very +embodiment of sweet content as she slightly swayed herself +without speaking. A little tide of happiness seemed to ebb +and flow through her in listening to the sailor’s words, +moving her figure with it. The seaman and John went on +conversing.</p> +<p>‘Bob had a good deal to do with barricading the +hawse-holes afore we were in action, and the Adm’l and +Cap’n both were very much pleased at how ’twas +done. When the Adm’l went up the quarter-deck ladder, +Cap’n Hardy said a word or two to Bob, but what it was I +don’t know, for I was quartered at a gun some ways +off. However, Bob saw the Adm’l stagger when ‘a +was wownded, and was one of the men who carried him to the +cockpit. After that he and some other lads jumped aboard +the French ship, and I believe they was in her when she struck +her flag. What ‘a did next I can’t say, for the +wind had dropped, and the smoke was like a cloud. But +‘a got a good deal talked about; and they say there’s +promotion in store for’n.’</p> +<p>At this point in the story Jim Cornick stopped to drink, and a +low unconscious humming came from Anne in her distant corner; the +faint melody continued more or less when the conversation between +the sailor and the Lovedays was renewed.</p> +<p>‘We heard afore that the Victory was near knocked to +pieces,’ said the miller.</p> +<p>‘Knocked to pieces? You’d say so if so be +you could see her! Gad, her sides be battered like an old +penny piece; the shot be still sticking in her wales, and her +sails be like so many clap-nets: we have run all the way home +under jury topmasts; and as for her decks, you may swab wi’ +hot water, and you may swab wi’ cold, but there’s the +blood-stains, and there they’ll bide. . . . The +Cap’n had a narrow escape, like many o’ the +rest—a shot shaved his ankle like a razor. You should +have seen that man’s face in the het o’ battle, his +features were as if they’d been cast in steel.’</p> +<p>‘We rather expected a letter from Bob before +this.’</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Jim Cornick, with a smile of +toleration, ‘you must make allowances. The truth +o’t is, he’s engaged just now at Portsmouth, like a +good many of the rest from our ship. . . . ’Tis a +very nice young woman that he’s a courting of, and I make +no doubt that she’ll be an excellent wife for +him.’</p> +<p>‘Ah!’ said Mrs. Loveday, in a warning tone.</p> +<p>‘Courting—wife?’ said the miller.</p> +<p>They instinctively looked towards Anne. Anne had started +as if shaken by an invisible hand, and a thick mist of doubt +seemed to obscure the intelligence of her eyes. This was +but for two or three moments. Very pale, she arose and went +right up to the seaman. John gently tried to intercept her, +but she passed him by.</p> +<p>‘Do you speak of Robert Loveday as courting a +wife?’ she asked, without the least betrayal of +emotion.</p> +<p>‘I didn’t see you, miss,’ replied Cornick, +turning. ‘Yes, your brother hev’ his eye on a +wife, and he deserves one. I hope you don’t +mind?’</p> +<p>‘Not in the least,’ she said, with a stage +laugh. ‘I am interested, naturally. And what is +she?’</p> +<p>‘A very nice young master-baker’s daughter, +honey. A very wise choice of the young +man’s.’</p> +<p>‘Is she fair or dark?’</p> +<p>‘Her hair is rather light.’</p> +<p>‘I like light hair; and her name?’</p> +<p>‘Her name is Caroline. But can it be that my story +hurts ye? If so—’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ said John, interposing +anxiously. ‘We don’t care for more just at this +moment.’</p> +<p>‘We <i>do</i> care for more!’ said Anne +vehemently. ‘Tell it all, sailor. That is a +very pretty name, Caroline. When are they going to be +married?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know as how the day is settled,’ +answered Jim, even now scarcely conscious of the devastation he +was causing in one fair breast. ‘But from the rate +the courting is scudding along at, I should say it won’t be +long first.’</p> +<p>‘If you see him when you go back, give him my best +wishes,’ she lightly said, as she moved away. +‘And,’ she added, with solemn bitterness, ‘say +that I am glad to hear he is making such good use of the first +days of his escape from the Valley of the Shadow of +Death!’ She went away, expressing indifference by +audibly singing in the distance—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘Shall we go dance the round, the round, the +round,<br /> + Shall we go dance the round?’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>‘Your sister is lively at the news,’ observed Jim +Cornick.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ murmured John gloomily, as he gnawed his +lower lip and kept his eyes fixed on the fire.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ continued the man from the Victory, +‘I won’t say that your brother’s intended +ha’n’t got some ballast, which is very lucky +for’n, as he might have picked up with a girl without a +single copper nail. To be sure there was a time we had when +we got into port! It was open house for us +all!’ And after mentally regarding the scene for a +few seconds Jim emptied his cup and rose to go.</p> +<p>The miller was saying some last words to him outside the +house, Anne’s voice had hardly ceased singing upstairs, +John was standing by the fireplace, and Mrs. Loveday was crossing +the room to join her daughter, whose manner had given her some +uneasiness, when a noise came from above the ceiling, as of some +heavy body falling. Mrs. Loveday rushed to the staircase, +saying, ‘Ah, I feared something!’ and she was +followed by John.</p> +<p>When they entered Anne’s room, which they both did +almost at one moment, they found her lying insensible upon the +floor. The trumpet-major, his lips tightly closed, lifted +her in his arms, and laid her upon the bed; after which he went +back to the door to give room to her mother, who was bending over +the girl with some hartshorn.</p> +<p>Presently Mrs. Loveday looked up and said to him, ‘She +is only in a faint, John, and her colour is coming back. +Now leave her to me; I will be downstairs in a few minutes, and +tell you how she is.’</p> +<p>John left the room. When he gained the lower apartment +his father was standing by the chimney-piece, the sailor having +gone. The trumpet-major went up to the fire, and, grasping +the edge of the high chimney-shelf, stood silent.</p> +<p>‘Did I hear a noise when I went out?’ asked the +elder, in a tone of misgiving.</p> +<p>‘Yes, you did,’ said John. ‘It was +she, but her mother says she is better now. Father,’ +he added impetuously, ‘Bob is a worthless blockhead! +If there had been any good in him he would have been drowned +years ago!’</p> +<p>‘John, John—not too fast,’ said the +miller. ‘That’s a hard thing to say of your +brother, and you ought to be ashamed of it.’</p> +<p>‘Well, he tries me more than I can bear. Good God! +what can a man be made of to go on as he does? Why +didn’t he come home; or if he couldn’t get leave why +didn’t he write? ’Tis scandalous of him to +serve a woman like that!’</p> +<p>‘Gently, gently. The chap hev done his duty as a +sailor; and though there might have been something between him +and Anne, her mother, in talking it over with me, has said many +times that she couldn’t think of their marrying till Bob +had settled down in business with me. Folks that gain +victories must have a little liberty allowed ’em. +Look at the Admiral himself, for that matter.’</p> +<p>John continued looking at the red coals, till hearing Mrs. +Loveday’s foot on the staircase, he went to meet her.</p> +<p>‘She is better,’ said Mrs. Loveday; ‘but she +won’t come down again to-day.’</p> +<p>Could John have heard what the poor girl was moaning to +herself at that moment as she lay writhing on the bed, he would +have doubted her mother’s assurance. ‘If he had +been dead I could have borne it, but this I cannot +bear!’</p> +<h2>XXXVI. DERRIMAN SEES CHANCES</h2> +<p>Meanwhile Sailor Cornick had gone on his way as far as the +forking roads, where he met Festus Derriman on foot. The +latter, attracted by the seaman’s dress, and by seeing him +come from the mill, at once accosted him. Jim, with the +greatest readiness, fell into conversation, and told the same +story as that he had related at the mill.</p> +<p>‘Bob Loveday going to be married?’ repeated +Festus.</p> +<p>‘You all seem struck of a heap wi’ +that.’</p> +<p>‘No; I never heard news that pleased me more.’</p> +<p>When Cornick was gone, Festus, instead of passing straight on, +halted on the little bridge and meditated. Bob, being now +interested elsewhere, would probably not resent the siege of +Anne’s heart by another; there could, at any rate, be no +further possibility of that looming duel which had troubled the +yeoman’s mind ever since his horse-play on Anne at the +house on the down. To march into the mill and propose to +Mrs. Loveday for Anne before John’s interest could revive +in her was, to this hero’s thinking, excellent +discretion.</p> +<p>The day had already begun to darken when he entered, and the +cheerful fire shone red upon the floor and walls. Mrs. +Loveday received him alone, and asked him to take a seat by the +chimney-corner, a little of the old hankering for him as a +son-in-law having permanently remained with her.</p> +<p>‘Your servant, Mrs. Loveday,’ he said, ‘and +I will tell you at once what I come for. You will say that +I take time by the forelock when I inform you that it is to push +on my long-wished-for alliance wi’ your daughter, as I +believe she is now a free woman again.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, Mr. Derriman,’ said the mother +placably. ‘But she is ill at present. +I’ll mention it to her when she is better.’</p> +<p>‘Ask her to alter her cruel, cruel resolves against me, +on the score of—of my consuming passion for her. In +short,’ continued Festus, dropping his parlour language in +his warmth, ‘I’ll tell thee what, Dame Loveday, I +want the maid, and must have her.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Loveday replied that that was very plain speaking.</p> +<p>‘Well, ’tis. But Bob has given her up. +He never meant to marry her. I’ll tell you, Mrs. +Loveday, what I have never told a soul before. I was +standing upon Budmouth Quay on that very day in last September +that Bob set sail, and I heard him say to his brother John that +he gave your daughter up.’</p> +<p>‘Then it was very unmannerly of him to trifle with her +so,’ said Mrs. Loveday warmly. ‘Who did he give +her up to?’</p> +<p>Festus replied with hesitation, ‘He gave her up to +John.’</p> +<p>‘To John? How could he give her up to a man +already over head and ears in love with that actress +woman?’</p> +<p>‘O? You surprise me. Which actress is +it?’</p> +<p>‘That Miss Johnson. Anne tells me that he loves +her hopelessly.’</p> +<p>Festus arose. Miss Johnson seemed suddenly to acquire +high value as a sweetheart at this announcement. He had +himself felt a nameless attractiveness in her, and John had done +likewise. John crossed his path in all possible ways.</p> +<p>Before the yeoman had replied somebody opened the door, and +the firelight shone upon the uniform of the person they +discussed. Festus nodded on recognizing him, wished Mrs. +Loveday good evening, and went out precipitately.</p> +<p>‘So Bob told you he meant to break off with my Anne when +he went away?’ Mrs. Loveday remarked to the +trumpet-major. ‘I wish I had known of it +before.’</p> +<p>John appeared disturbed at the sudden charge. He +murmured that he could not deny it, and then hastily turned from +her and followed Derriman, whom he saw before him on the +bridge.</p> +<p>‘Derriman!’ he shouted.</p> +<p>Festus started and looked round. ‘Well, +trumpet-major,’ he said blandly.</p> +<p>‘When will you have sense enough to mind your own +business, and not come here telling things you have heard by +sneaking behind people’s backs?’ demanded John +hotly. ‘If you can’t learn in any other way, I +shall have to pull your ears again, as I did the other +day!’</p> +<p>‘<i>You</i> pull my ears? How can you tell that +lie, when you know ’twas somebody else pulled +’em?’</p> +<p>‘O no, no. I pulled your ears, and thrashed you in +a mild way.’</p> +<p>‘You’ll swear to it? Surely ’twas +another man?’</p> +<p>‘It was in the parlour at the public-house; you were +almost in the dark.’ And John added a few details as +to the particular blows, which amounted to proof itself.</p> +<p>‘Then I heartily ask your pardon for saying ’twas +a lie!’ cried Festus, advancing with extended hand and a +genial smile. ‘Sure, if I had known +<i>’twas</i> you, I wouldn’t have insulted you by +denying it.’</p> +<p>‘That was why you didn’t challenge me, +then?’</p> +<p>‘That was it! I wouldn’t for the world have +hurt your nice sense of honour by letting ’ee go +unchallenged, if I had known! And now, you see, +unfortunately I can’t mend the mistake. So long a +time has passed since it happened that the heat of my temper is +gone off. I couldn’t oblige ’ee, try how I +might, for I am not a man, trumpet-major, that can butcher in +cold blood—no, not I, nor you neither, from what I know of +’ee. So, willy-nilly, we must fain let it pass, +eh?’</p> +<p>‘We must, I suppose,’ said John, smiling +grimly. ‘Who did you think I was, then, that night +when I boxed you all round?’</p> +<p>‘No, don’t press me,’ replied the +yeoman. ‘I can’t reveal; it would be disgracing +myself to show how very wide of the truth the mockery of wine was +able to lead my senses. We will let it be buried in eternal +mixens of forgetfulness.’</p> +<p>‘As you wish,’ said the trumpet-major +loftily. ‘But if you ever <i>should</i> think you +knew it was me, why, you know where to find me?’ And +Loveday walked away.</p> +<p>The instant that he was gone Festus shook his fist at the +evening star, which happened to lie in the same direction as that +taken by the dragoon.</p> +<p>‘Now for my revenge! Duels? Lifelong +disgrace to me if ever I fight with a man of blood below my +own! There are other remedies for upper-class souls!. . +. Matilda—that’s my way.’</p> +<p>Festus strode along till he reached the Hall, where +Cripplestraw appeared gazing at him from under the arch of the +porter’s lodge. Derriman dashed open the +entrance-hurdle with such violence that the whole row of them +fell flat in the mud.</p> +<p>‘Mercy, Maister Festus!’ said Cripplestraw. +‘“Surely,” I says to myself when I see ye +a-coming, “surely Maister Festus is fuming like that +because there’s no chance of the enemy coming this year +after all.”’</p> +<p>‘Cr-r-ripplestraw! I have been wounded to the +heart,’ replied Derriman, with a lurid brow.</p> +<p>‘And the man yet lives, and you wants yer horse-pistols +instantly? Certainly, Maister F---’</p> +<p>‘No, Cripplestraw, not my pistols, but my new-cut +clothes, my heavy gold seals, my silver-topped cane, and my +buckles that cost more money than he ever saw! Yes, I must +tell somebody, and I’ll tell you, because there’s no +other fool near. He loves her heart and soul. +He’s poor; she’s tip-top genteel, and not rich. +I am rich, by comparison. I’ll court the pretty +play-actress, and win her before his eyes.’</p> +<p>‘Play-actress, Maister Derriman?’</p> +<p>‘Yes. I saw her this very day, met her by +accident, and spoke to her. She’s still in the +town—perhaps because of him. I can meet her at any +hour of the day— But I don’t mean to marry her; +not I. I will court her for my pastime, and to annoy +him. It will be all the more death to him that I +don’t want her. Then perhaps he will say to me, +“You have taken my one ewe lamb”—meaning that I +am the king, and he’s the poor man, as in the church verse; +and he’ll beg for mercy when ’tis too +late—unless, meanwhile, I shall have tired of my new +toy. Saddle the horse, Cripplestraw, to-morrow at +ten.’</p> +<p>Full of this resolve to scourge John Loveday to the quick +through his passion for Miss Johnson, Festus came out booted and +spurred at the time appointed, and set off on his morning +ride.</p> +<p>Miss Johnson’s theatrical engagement having long ago +terminated, she would have left the Royal watering-place with the +rest of the visitors had not matrimonial hopes detained her +there. These had nothing whatever to do with John Loveday, +as may be imagined, but with a stout, staid boat-builder in Cove +Row by the quay, who had shown much interest in her +impersonations. Unfortunately this substantial man had not +been quite so attentive since the end of the season as his +previous manner led her to expect; and it was a great pleasure to +the lady to see Mr. Derriman leaning over the harbour bridge with +his eyes fixed upon her as she came towards it after a stroll +past her elderly wooer’s house.</p> +<p>‘Od take it, ma’am, you didn’t tell me when +I saw you last that the tooting man with the blue jacket and lace +was yours devoted?’ began Festus.</p> +<p>‘Who do you mean?’ In Matilda’s +ever-changing emotional interests, John Loveday was a stale and +unprofitable personality.</p> +<p>‘Why, that trumpet-major man.’</p> +<p>‘O! What of him?’</p> +<p>‘Come; he loves you, and you know it, +ma’am.’</p> +<p>She knew, at any rate, how to take the current when it +served. So she glanced at Festus, folded her lips +meaningly, and nodded.</p> +<p>‘I’ve come to cut him out.’</p> +<p>She shook her head, it being unsafe to speak till she knew a +little more of the subject.</p> +<p>‘What!’ said Festus, reddening, ‘do you mean +to say that you think of him seriously—you, who might look +so much higher?’</p> +<p>‘Constant dropping will wear away a stone; and you +should only hear his pleading! His handsome face is +impressive, and his manners are—O, so genteel! I am +not rich; I am, in short, a poor lady of decayed family, who has +nothing to boast of but my blood and ancestors, and they +won’t find a body in food and clothing!—I hold the +world but as the world, Derrimanio—a stage where every man +must play a part, and mine a sad one!’ She dropped +her eyes thoughtfully and sighed.</p> +<p>‘We will talk of this,’ said Festus, much +affected. ‘Let us walk to the Look-out.’</p> +<p>She made no objection, and said, as they turned that way, +‘Mr. Derriman, a long time ago I found something belonging +to you; but I have never yet remembered to return +it.’ And she drew from her bosom the paper which Anne +had dropped in the meadow when eluding the grasp of Festus on +that summer day.</p> +<p>‘Zounds, I smell fresh meat!’ cried Festus when he +had looked it over. ‘’Tis in my uncle’s +writing, and ’tis what I heard him singing on the day the +French didn’t come, and afterwards saw him marking in the +road. ’Tis something he’s got hid away. +Give me the paper, there’s a dear; ’tis worth +sterling gold!’</p> +<p>‘Halves, then?’ said Matilda tenderly.</p> +<p>‘Gad, yes—anything!’ replied Festus, blazing +into a smile, for she had looked up in her best new manner at the +possibility that he might be worth the winning. They went +up the steps to the summit of the cliff, and dwindled over it +against the sky.</p> +<h2>XXXVII. REACTION</h2> +<p>There was no letter from Bob, though December had passed, and +the new year was two weeks old. His movements were, +however, pretty accurately registered in the papers, which John +still brought, but which Anne no longer read. During the +second week in December the Victory sailed for Sheerness, and on +the 9th of the following January the public funeral of Lord +Nelson took place in St. Paul’s.</p> +<p>Then there came a meagre line addressed to the family in +general. Bob’s new Portsmouth attachment was not +mentioned, but he told them he had been one of the +eight-and-forty seamen who walked two-and-two in the funeral +procession, and that Captain Hardy had borne the banner of +emblems on the same occasion. The crew was soon to be paid +off at Chatham, when he thought of returning to Portsmouth for a +few days to see a valued friend. After that he should come +home.</p> +<p>But the spring advanced without bringing him, and John watched +Anne Garland’s desolation with augmenting desire to do +something towards consoling her. The old feelings, so +religiously held in check, were stimulated to rebelliousness, +though they did not show themselves in any direct manner as +yet.</p> +<p>The miller, in the meantime, who seldom interfered in such +matters, was observed to look meaningly at Anne and the +trumpet-major from day to day; and by-and-by he spoke privately +to John.</p> +<p>His words were short and to the point: Anne was very +melancholy; she had thought too much of Bob. Now +’twas plain that they had lost him for many years to +come. Well; he had always felt that of the two he would +rather John married her. Now John might settle down there, +and succeed where Bob had failed. ‘So if you could +get her, my sonny, to think less of him and more of thyself, it +would be a good thing for all.’</p> +<p>An inward excitement had risen in John; but he suppressed it +and said firmly—</p> +<p>‘Fairness to Bob before everything!’</p> +<p>‘He hev forgot her, and there’s an end +on’t.’</p> +<p>‘She’s not forgot him.’</p> +<p>‘Well, well; think it over.’</p> +<p>This discourse was the cause of his penning a letter to his +brother. He begged for a distinct statement whether, as +John at first supposed, Bob’s verbal renunciation of Anne +on the quay had been only a momentary ebullition of friendship, +which it would be cruel to take literally; or whether, as seemed +now, it had passed from a hasty resolve to a standing purpose, +persevered in for his own pleasure, with not a care for the +result on poor Anne.</p> +<p>John waited anxiously for the answer, but no answer came; and +the silence seemed even more significant than a letter of +assurance could have been of his absolution from further support +to a claim which Bob himself had so clearly renounced. Thus +it happened that paternal pressure, brotherly indifference, and +his own released impulse operated in one delightful direction, +and the trumpet-major once more approached Anne as in the old +time.</p> +<p>But it was not till she had been left to herself for a full +five months, and the blue-bells and ragged-robins of the +following year were again making themselves common to the +rambling eye, that he directly addressed her. She was tying +up a group of tall flowering plants in the garden: she knew that +he was behind her, but she did not turn. She had subsided +into a placid dignity which enabled her when watched to perform +any little action with seeming composure—very different +from the flutter of her inexperienced days.</p> +<p>‘Are you never going to turn round?’ he at length +asked good-humouredly.</p> +<p>She then did turn, and looked at him for a moment without +speaking; a certain suspicion looming in her eyes, as if +suggested by his perceptible want of ease.</p> +<p>‘How like summer it is getting to feel, is it +not?’ she said.</p> +<p>John admitted that it was getting to feel like summer: and, +bending his gaze upon her with an earnestness which no longer +left any doubt of his subject, went on to ask—</p> +<p>‘Have you ever in these last weeks thought of how it +used to be between us?’</p> +<p>She replied quickly, ‘O, John, you shouldn’t begin +that again. I am almost another woman now!’</p> +<p>‘Well, that’s all the more reason why I should, +isn’t it?’</p> +<p>Anne looked thoughtfully to the other end of the garden, +faintly shaking her head; ‘I don’t quite see it like +that,’ she returned.</p> +<p>‘You feel yourself quite free, don’t +you?’</p> +<p>‘<i>Quite</i> free!’ she said instantly, and with +proud distinctness; her eyes fell, and she repeated more slowly, +‘Quite free.’ Then her thoughts seemed to fly +from herself to him. ‘But you are not?’</p> +<p>‘I am not?’</p> +<p>‘Miss Johnson!’</p> +<p>‘O—that woman! You know as well as I that +was all make-up, and that I never for a moment thought of +her.’</p> +<p>‘I had an idea you were acting; but I wasn’t +sure.’</p> +<p>‘Well, that’s nothing now. Anne, I want to +relieve your life; to cheer you in some way; to make some amends +for my brother’s bad conduct. If you cannot love me, +liking will be well enough. I have thought over every side +of it so many times—for months have I been thinking it +over—and I am at last sure that I do right to put it to you +in this way. That I don’t wrong Bob I am quite +convinced. As far as he is concerned we be both free. +Had I not been sure of that I would never have spoken. +Father wants me to take on the mill, and it will please him if +you can give me one little hope; it will make the house go on +altogether better if you can think o’ me.’</p> +<p>‘You are generous and good, John,’ she said, as a +big round tear bowled helter-skelter down her face and +hat-strings.</p> +<p>‘I am not that; I fear I am quite the opposite,’ +he said, without looking at her. ‘It would be all +gain to me— But you have not answered my +question.’</p> +<p>She lifted her eyes. ‘John, I cannot!’ she +said, with a cheerless smile. ‘Positively I +cannot. Will you make me a promise?’</p> +<p>‘What is it?’</p> +<p>‘I want you to promise first— Yes, it is +dreadfully unreasonable,’ she added, in a mild +distress. ‘But do promise!’</p> +<p>John by this time seemed to have a feeling that it was all up +with him for the present. ‘I promise,’ he said +listlessly.</p> +<p>‘It is that you won’t speak to me about this for +<i>ever</i> so long,’ she returned, with emphatic +kindliness.</p> +<p>‘Very good,’ he replied; ‘very good. +Dear Anne, you don’t think I have been unmanly or unfair in +starting this anew?’</p> +<p>Anne looked into his face without a smile. ‘You +have been perfectly natural,’ she murmured. +‘And so I think have I.’</p> +<p>John, mournfully: ‘You will not avoid me for this, or be +afraid of me? I will not break my word. I will not +worry you any more.’</p> +<p>‘Thank you, John. You need not have said worry; it +isn’t that.’</p> +<p>‘Well, I am very blind and stupid. I have been +hurting your heart all the time without knowing it. It is +my fate, I suppose. Men who love women the very best always +blunder and give more pain than those who love them +less.’</p> +<p>Anne laid one of her hands on the other as she softly replied, +looking down at them, ‘No one loves me as well as you, +John; nobody in the world is so worthy to be loved; and yet I +cannot anyhow love you rightly.’ And lifting her +eyes, ‘But I do so feel for you that I will try as hard as +I can to think about you.’</p> +<p>‘Well, that is something,’ he said, smiling. +‘You say I must not speak about it again for ever so long; +how long?’</p> +<p>‘Now that’s not fair,’ Anne retorted, going +down the garden, and leaving him alone.</p> +<p>About a week passed. Then one afternoon the miller +walked up to Anne indoors, a weighty topic being expressed in his +tread.</p> +<p>‘I was so glad, my honey,’ he began, with a +knowing smile, ‘to see that from the mill-window last +week.’ He flung a nod in the direction of the +garden.</p> +<p>Anne innocently inquired what it could be.</p> +<p>‘Jack and you in the garden together,’ he +continued laying his hand gently on her shoulder and stroking +it. ‘It would so please me, my dear little girl, if +you could get to like him better than that weathercock, Master +Bob.’</p> +<p>Anne shook her head; not in forcible negation, but to imply a +kind of neutrality.</p> +<p>‘Can’t you? Come now,’ said the +miller.</p> +<p>She threw back her head with a little laugh of +grievance. ‘How you all beset me!’ she +expostulated. ‘It makes me feel very wicked in not +obeying you, and being faithful—faithful +to—’ But she could not trust that side of the +subject to words. ‘Why would it please you so +much?’ she asked.</p> +<p>‘John is as steady and staunch a fellow as ever blowed a +trumpet. I’ve always thought you might do better with +him than with Bob. Now I’ve a plan for taking him +into the mill, and letting him have a comfortable time o’t +after his long knocking about; but so much depends upon you that +I must bide a bit till I see what your pleasure is about the poor +fellow. Mind, my dear, I don’t want to force ye; I +only just ask ye.’</p> +<p>Anne meditatively regarded the miller from under her shady +eyelids, the fingers of one hand playing a silent tattoo on her +bosom. ‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ +she answered brusquely, and went away.</p> +<p>But these discourses were not without their effect upon the +extremely conscientious mind of Anne. They were, moreover, +much helped by an incident which took place one evening in the +autumn of this year, when John came to tea. Anne was +sitting on a low stool in front of the fire, her hands clasped +across her knee. John Loveday had just seated himself on a +chair close behind her, and Mrs. Loveday was in the act of +filling the teapot from the kettle which hung in the chimney +exactly above Anne. The kettle slipped forward suddenly, +whereupon John jumped from the chair and put his own two hands +over Anne’s just in time to shield them, and the precious +knee she clasped, from the jet of scalding water which had +directed itself upon that point. The accidental overflow +was instantly checked by Mrs. Loveday; but what had come was +received by the devoted trumpet-major on the back of his +hands.</p> +<p>Anne, who had hardly been aware that he was behind her, +started up like a person awakened from a trance. +‘What have you done to yourself, poor John, to keep it off +me!’ she cried, looking at his hands.</p> +<p>John reddened emotionally at her words, ‘It is a bit of +a scald, that’s all,’ he replied, drawing a finger +across the back of one hand, and bringing off the skin by the +touch.</p> +<p>‘You are scalded painfully, and I not at +all!’ She gazed into his kind face as she had never +gazed there before, and when Mrs. Loveday came back with oil and +other liniments for the wound Anne would let nobody dress it but +herself. It seemed as if her coyness had all gone, and when +she had done all that lay in her power she still sat by +him. At his departure she said what she had never said to +him in her life before: ‘Come again soon!’</p> +<p>In short, that impulsive act of devotion, the last of a series +of the same tenor, had been the added drop which finally turned +the wheel. John’s character deeply impressed +her. His determined steadfastness to his lode star won her +admiration, the more especially as that star was herself. +She began to wonder more and more how she could have so +persistently held out against his advances before Bob came home +to renew girlish memories which had by that time got considerably +weakened. Could she not, after all, please the miller, and +try to listen to John? By so doing she would make a worthy +man happy, the only sacrifice being at worst that of her unworthy +self, whose future was no longer valuable. ‘As for +Bob, the woman is to be pitied who loves him,’ she +reflected indignantly, and persuaded herself that, whoever the +woman might be, she was not Anne Garland.</p> +<p>After this there was something of recklessness and something +of pleasantry in the young girl’s manner of making herself +an example of the triumph of pride and common sense over memory +and sentiment. Her attitude had been epitomized in her +defiant singing at the time she learnt that Bob was not leal and +true. John, as was inevitable, came again almost +immediately, drawn thither by the sun of her first smile on him, +and the words which had accompanied it. And now instead of +going off to her little pursuits upstairs, downstairs, across the +room, in the corner, or to any place except where he happened to +be, as had been her custom hitherto, she remained seated near +him, returning interesting answers to his general remarks, and at +every opportunity letting him know that at last he had found +favour in her eyes.</p> +<p>The day was fine, and they went out of doors, where Anne +endeavoured to seat herself on the sloping stone of the +window-sill.</p> +<p>‘How good you have become lately,’ said John, +standing over her and smiling in the sunlight which blazed +against the wall. ‘I fancy you have stayed at home +this afternoon on my account.’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps I have,’ she said gaily—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘“Do whatever we may for him, dame, we +cannot do too much!<br /> + For he’s one that has guarded our +land.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>‘And he has done more than that: he has saved me from a +dreadful scalding. The back of your hand will not be well +for a long time, John, will it?’</p> +<p>He held out his hand to regard its condition, and the next +natural thing was to take hers. There was a glow upon his +face when he did it: his star was at last on a fair way towards +the zenith after its long and weary declination. The least +penetrating eye could have perceived that Anne had resolved to +let him woo, possibly in her temerity to let him win. +Whatever silent sorrow might be locked up in her, it was by this +time thrust a long way down from the light.</p> +<p>‘I want you to go somewhere with me if you will,’ +he said, still holding her hand.</p> +<p>‘Yes? Where is it?’</p> +<p>He pointed to a distant hill-side which, hitherto green, had +within the last few days begun to show scratches of white on its +face. ‘Up there,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘I see little figures of men moving about. What +are they doing?’</p> +<p>‘Cutting out a huge picture of the king on horseback in +the earth of the hill. The king’s head is to be as +big as our mill-pond and his body as big as this garden; he and +the horse will cover more than an acre. When shall we +go?’</p> +<p>‘Whenever you please,’ said she.</p> +<p>‘John!’ cried Mrs. Loveday from the front +door. ‘Here’s a friend come for you.’</p> +<p>John went round, and found his trusty lieutenant, Trumpeter +Buck, waiting for him. A letter had come to the barracks +for John in his absence, and the trumpeter, who was going for a +walk, had brought it along with him. Buck then entered the +mill to discuss, if possible, a mug of last year’s mead +with the miller; and John proceeded to read his letter, Anne +being still round the corner where he had left her. When he +had read a few words he turned as pale as a sheet, but he did not +move, and perused the writing to the end.</p> +<p>Afterwards he laid his elbow against the wall, and put his +palm to his head, thinking with painful intentness. Then he +took himself vigorously in hand, as it were, and gradually became +natural again. When he parted from Anne to go home with +Buck she noticed nothing different in him.</p> +<p>In barracks that evening he read the letter again. It +was from Bob; and the agitating contents were these:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear +John</span>,—I have drifted off from writing till the +present time because I have not been clear about my feelings; but +I have discovered them at last, and can say beyond doubt that I +mean to be faithful to my dearest Anne after all. The fact +is, John, I’ve got into a bit of a scrape, and I’ve a +secret to tell you about it (which must go no further on any +account). On landing last autumn I fell in with a young +woman, and we got rather warm as folks do; in short, we liked one +another well enough for a while. But I have got into shoal +water with her, and have found her to be a terrible +take-in. Nothing in her at all—no sense, no niceness, +all tantrums and empty noise, John, though she seemed monstrous +clever at first. So my heart comes back to its old +anchorage. I hope my return to faithfulness will make no +difference to you. But as you showed by your looks at our +parting that you should not accept my offer to give her +up—made in too much haste, as I have since found—I +feel that you won’t mind that I have returned to the path +of honour. I dare not write to Anne as yet, and please do +not let her know a word about the other young woman, or there +will be the devil to pay. I shall come home and make all +things right, please God. In the meantime I should take it +as a kindness, John, if you would keep a brotherly eye upon Anne, +and guide her mind back to me. I shall die of sorrow if +anybody sets her against me, for my hopes are getting bound up in +her again quite strong. Hoping you are jovial, as times go, +I am,—Your affectionate brother,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Robert</span>.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>When the cold daylight fell upon John’s face, as he +dressed himself next morning, the incipient yesterday’s +wrinkle in his forehead had become permanently graven +there. He had resolved, for the sake of that only brother +whom he had nursed as a baby, instructed as a child, and +protected and loved always, to pause in his procedure for the +present, and at least do nothing to hinder Bob’s +restoration to favour, if a genuine, even though temporarily +smothered, love for Anne should still hold possession of +him. But having arranged to take her to see the excavated +figure of the king, he started for Overcombe during the day, as +if nothing had occurred to check the smooth course of his +love.</p> +<h2>XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION</h2> +<p>‘I am ready to go,’ said Anne, as soon as he +arrived.</p> +<p>He paused as if taken aback by her readiness, and replied with +much uncertainty, ‘Would it—wouldn’t it be +better to put it off till there is less sun?’</p> +<p>The very slightest symptom of surprise arose in her as she +rejoined, ‘But the weather may change; or had we better not +go at all?’</p> +<p>‘O no!—it was only a thought. We will start +at once.’</p> +<p>And along the vale they went, John keeping himself about a +yard from her right hand. When the third field had been +crossed they came upon half-a-dozen little boys at play.</p> +<p>‘Why don’t he clasp her to his side, like a +man?’ said the biggest and rudest boy.</p> +<p>‘Why don’t he clasp her to his side, like a +man?’ echoed all the rude smaller boys in a chorus.</p> +<p>The trumpet-major turned, and, after some running, succeeded +in smacking two of them with his switch, returning to Anne +breathless. ‘I am ashamed they should have insulted +you so,’ he said, blushing for her.</p> +<p>‘They said no harm, poor boys,’ she replied +reproachfully.</p> +<p>Poor John was dumb with perception. The gentle hint upon +which he would have eagerly spoken only one short day ago was now +like fire to his wound.</p> +<p>They presently came to some stepping-stones across a +brook. John crossed first without turning his head, and +Anne, just lifting the skirt of her dress, crossed behind +him. When they had reached the other side a village girl +and a young shepherd approached the brink to cross. Anne +stopped and watched them. The shepherd took a hand of the +young girl in each of his own, and walked backward over the +stones, facing her, and keeping her upright by his grasp, both of +them laughing as they went.</p> +<p>‘What are you staying for, Miss Garland?’ asked +John.</p> +<p>‘I was only thinking how happy they are,’ she said +quietly; and withdrawing her eyes from the tender pair, she +turned and followed him, not knowing that the seeming sound of a +passing bumble-bee was a suppressed groan from John.</p> +<p>When they reached the hill they found forty navvies at work +removing the dark sod so as to lay bare the chalk beneath. +The equestrian figure that their shovels were forming was +scarcely intelligible to John and Anne now they were close, and +after pacing from the horse’s head down his breast to his +hoof, back by way of the king’s bridle-arm, past the bridge +of his nose, and into his cocked-hat, Anne said that she had had +enough of it, and stepped out of the chalk clearing upon the +grass. The trumpet-major had remained all the time in a +melancholy attitude within the rowel of his Majesty’s right +spur.</p> +<p>‘My shoes are caked with chalk,’ she said as they +walked downwards again; and she drew back her dress to look at +them. ‘How can I get some of it cleared +off?’</p> +<p>‘If you was to wipe them in the long grass there,’ +said John, pointing to a spot where the blades were rank and +dense, ‘some of it would come off.’ Having said +this, he walked on with religious firmness.</p> +<p>Anne raked her little feet on the right side, on the left +side, over the toe, and behind the heel; but the tenacious chalk +held its own. Panting with her exertion, she gave it up, +and at length overtook him.</p> +<p>‘I hope it is right now?’ he said, looking +gingerly over his shoulder.</p> +<p>‘No, indeed!’ said she. ‘I wanted some +assistance—some one to steady me. It is so hard to +stand on one foot and wipe the other without support. I was +in danger of toppling over, and so gave it up.’</p> +<p>‘Merciful stars, what an opportunity!’ thought the +poor fellow while she waited for him to offer help. But his lips +remained closed, and she went on with a pouting smile—</p> +<p>‘You seem in such a hurry! Why are you in such a +hurry? After all the fine things you have said +about—about caring so much for me, and all that, you +won’t stop for anything!’</p> +<p>It was too much for John. ‘Upon my heart and life, +my dea—’ he began. Here Bob’s letter +crackled warningly in his waistcoat pocket as he laid his hand +asseveratingly upon his breast, and he became suddenly scaled up +to dumbness and gloom as before.</p> +<p>When they reached home Anne sank upon a stool outside the +door, fatigued with her excursion. Her first act was to try +to pull off her shoe—it was a difficult matter; but John +stood beating with his switch the leaves of the creeper on the +wall.</p> +<p>‘Mother—David—Molly, or somebody—do +come and help me pull off these dirty shoes!’ she cried +aloud at last. ‘Nobody helps me in +anything!’</p> +<p>‘I am very sorry,’ said John, coming towards her +with incredible slowness and an air of unutterable +depression.</p> +<p>‘O, I can do without <i>you</i>. David is +best,’ she returned, as the old man approached and removed +the obnoxious shoes in a trice.</p> +<p>Anne was amazed at this sudden change from devotion to crass +indifference. On entering her room she flew to the glass, +almost expecting to learn that some extraordinary change had come +over her pretty countenance, rendering her intolerable for +evermore. But it was, if anything, fresher than usual, on +account of the exercise. ‘Well!’ she said +retrospectively. For the first time since their acqaintance +she had this week encouraged him; and for the first time he had +shown that encouragement was useless. ‘But perhaps he +does not clearly understand,’ she added serenely.</p> +<p>When he next came it was, to her surprise, to bring her +newspapers, now for some time discontinued. As soon as she +saw them she said, ‘I do not care for +newspapers.’</p> +<p>‘The shipping news is very full and long to-day, though +the print is rather small.’</p> +<p>‘I take no further interest in the shipping news,’ +she replied with cold dignity.</p> +<p>She was sitting by the window, inside the table, and hence +when, in spite of her negations, he deliberately unfolded the +paper and began to read about the Royal Navy she could hardly +rise and go away. With a stoical mien he read on to the end +of the report, bringing out the name of Bob’s ship with +tremendous force.</p> +<p>‘No,’ she said at last, ‘I’ll hear no +more! Let me read to you.’</p> +<p>The trumpet-major sat down. Anne turned to the military +news, delivering every detail with much apparent +enthusiasm. ‘That’s the subject <i>I</i> +like!’ she said fervently.</p> +<p>‘But—but Bob is in the navy now, and will most +likely rise to be an officer. And then—’</p> +<p>‘What is there like the army?’ she +interrupted. ‘There is no smartness about +sailors. They waddle like ducks, and they only fight stupid +battles that no one can form any idea of. There is no +science nor stratagem in sea-fights—nothing more than what +you see when two rams run their heads together in a field to +knock each other down. But in military battles there is +such art, and such splendour, and the men are so smart, +particularly the horse-soldiers. O, I shall never forget +what gallant men you all seemed when you came and pitched your +tents on the downs! I like the cavalry better than anything +I know; and the dragoons the best of the cavalry—and the +trumpeters the best of the dragoons!’</p> +<p>‘O, if it had but come a little sooner!’ moaned +John within him. He replied as soon as he could regain +self-command, ‘I am glad Bob is in the navy at +last—he is so much more fitted for that than the +merchant-service—so brave by nature, ready for any daring +deed. I have heard ever so much more about his doings on +board the Victory. Captain Hardy took special notice that +when he—’</p> +<p>‘I don’t want to know anything more about +it,’ said Anne impatiently; ‘of course sailors fight; +there’s nothing else to do in a ship, since you can’t +run away! You may as well fight and be killed as be killed +not fighting.’</p> +<p>‘Still it is his character to be careless of himself +where the honour of his country is concerned,’ John +pleaded. ‘If you had only known him as a boy you +would own it. He would always risk his own life to save +anybody else’s. Once when a cottage was afire up the +lane he rushed in for a baby, although he was only a boy himself, +and he had the narrowest escape. We have got his hat now +with the hole burnt in it. Shall I get it and show it to +you?’</p> +<p>‘No—I don’t wish it. It has nothing to +do with me.’ But as he persisted in his course +towards the door, she added, ‘Ah! you are leaving because I +am in your way. You want to be alone while you read the +paper—I will go at once. I did not see that I was +interrupting you.’ And she rose as if to retreat.</p> +<p>‘No, no! I would rather be interrupted by +<i>you</i> than—O, Miss Garland, excuse me! +I’ll just speak to father in the mill, now I am +here.’</p> +<p>It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose +unquestionable gentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has +been many times insisted on in the course of this history) was +usually the reverse of a woman with a coming-on disposition; but, +whether from pique at his manner, or from wilful adherence to a +course rashly resolved on, or from coquettish maliciousness in +reaction from long depression, or from any other thing,—so +it was that she would not let him go.</p> +<p>‘Trumpet-major,’ she said, recalling him.</p> +<p>‘Yes?’ he replied timidly.</p> +<p>‘The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it +not?’ She turned and fixed her bewitching glance upon +him.</p> +<p>The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the +point where the organ of comparison merges in that of +benevolence, according to the phrenological theory of Gall. +John, thus brought to, endeavoured to look at the bow in a +skimming, duck-and-drake fashion, so as to avoid dipping his own +glance as far as to the plane of his interrogator’s +eyes. ‘It is untied,’ he said, drawing back a +little.</p> +<p>She came nearer, and asked, ‘Will you tie it for me, +please?’</p> +<p>As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and +assented. As her head only reached to his fourth button she +necessarily looked up for his convenience, and John began +fumbling at the bow. Try as he would it was impossible to +touch the ribbon without getting his finger tips mixed with the +curls of her forehead.</p> +<p>‘Your hand shakes—ah! you have been walking +fast,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘Yes—yes.’</p> +<p>‘Have you almost done it?’ She inquiringly +directed her gaze upward through his fingers.</p> +<p>‘No—not yet,’ he faltered in a warm sweat of +emotion, his heart going like a flail.</p> +<p>‘Then be quick, please.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I will, Miss Garland! B-B-Bob is a very good +fel—’</p> +<p>‘Not that man’s name to me!’ she +interrupted.</p> +<p>John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the +rustling of the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among +the curls, and then touched her forehead.</p> +<p>‘O good God!’ ejaculated the trumpet-major in a +whisper, turning away hastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting +his face upon his hand.</p> +<p>‘What’s the matter, John?’ said she.</p> +<p>‘I can’t do it!’</p> +<p>‘What?’</p> +<p>‘Tie your cap-ribbon.’</p> +<p>‘Why not?’</p> +<p>‘Because you are so—Because I am clumsy, and never +could tie a bow.’</p> +<p>‘You are clumsy indeed,’ answered Anne, and went +away.</p> +<p>After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he +rated her happiness as of meaner value than Bob’s; since he +had persisted in his idea of giving Bob another chance when she +had implied that it was her wish to do otherwise. Could +Miss Johnson have anything to do with his firmness? An +opportunity of testing him in this direction occurred some days +later. She had been up the village, and met John at the +mill-door.</p> +<p>‘Have you heard the news? Matilda Johnson is going +to be married to young Derriman.’</p> +<p>Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his +features were searchingly exhibited. There was no change +whatever in them, unless it were that a certain light of interest +kindled by her question turned to complete and blank +indifference. ‘Well, as times go, it is not a bad +match for her,’ he said, with a phlegm which was hardly +that of a lover.</p> +<p>John on his part was beginning to find these temptations +almost more than he could bear. But being quartered so near +to his father’s house it was unnatural not to visit him, +especially when at any moment the regiment might be ordered +abroad, and a separation of years ensue; and as long as he went +there he could not help seeing her.</p> +<p>The year changed from green to gold, and from gold to grey, +but little change came over the house of Loveday. During +the last twelve months Bob had been occasionally heard of as +upholding his country’s honour in Denmark, the West Indies, +Gibraltar, Malta, and other places about the globe, till the +family received a short letter stating that he had arrived again +at Portsmouth. At Portsmouth Bob seemed disposed to remain, +for though some time elapsed without further intelligence, the +gallant seaman never appeared at Overcombe. Then on a +sudden John learnt that Bob’s long-talked-of promotion for +signal services rendered was to be an accomplished fact. +The trumpet-major at once walked off to Overcombe, and reached +the village in the early afternoon. Not one of the family +was in the house at the moment, and John strolled onwards over +the hill towards Casterbridge, without much thought of direction +till, lifting his eyes, he beheld Anne Garland wandering about +with a little basket upon her arm.</p> +<p>At first John blushed with delight at the sweet vision; but, +recalled by his conscience, the blush of delight was at once +mangled and slain. He looked for a means of retreat. +But the field was open, and a soldier was a conspicuous object: +there was no escaping her.</p> +<p>‘It was kind of you to come,’ she said, with an +inviting smile.</p> +<p>‘It was quite by accident,’ he answered, with an +indifferent laugh. ‘I thought you was at +home.’</p> +<p>Anne blushed and said nothing, and they rambled on +together. In the middle of the field rose a fragment of +stone wall in the form of a gable, known as Faringdon Ruin; and +when they had reached it John paused and politely asked her if +she were not a little tired with walking so far. No +particular reply was returned by the young lady, but they both +stopped, and Anne seated herself on a stone, which had fallen +from the ruin to the ground.</p> +<p>‘A church once stood here,’ observed John in a +matter-of-fact tone.</p> +<p>‘Yes, I have often shaped it out in my mind,’ she +returned. ‘Here where I sit must have been the +altar.’</p> +<p>‘True; this standing bit of wall was the chancel +end.’</p> +<p>Anne had been adding up her little studies of the +trumpet-major’s character, and was surprised to find how +the brightness of that character increased in her eyes with each +examination. A kindly and gentle sensation was again +aroused in her. Here was a neglected heroic man, who, +loving her to distraction, deliberately doomed himself to pensive +shade to avoid even the appearance of standing in a +brother’s way.</p> +<p>‘If the altar stood here, hundreds of people have been +made man and wife just there, in past times,’ she said, +with calm deliberateness, throwing a little stone on a spot about +a yard westward.</p> +<p>John annihilated another tender burst and replied, ‘Yes, +this field used to be a village. My grandfather could call +to mind when there were houses here. But the squire pulled +’em down, because poor folk were an eyesore to +him.’</p> +<p>‘Do you know, John, what you once asked me to do?’ +she continued, not accepting the digression, and turning her eyes +upon him.</p> +<p>‘In what sort of way?’</p> +<p>‘In the matter of my future life, and yours.’</p> +<p>‘I am afraid I don’t.’</p> +<p>‘John Loveday!’</p> +<p>He turned his back upon her for a moment, that she might not +see his face. ‘Ah—I do remember,’ he said +at last, in a dry, small, repressed voice.</p> +<p>‘Well—need I say more? Isn’t it +sufficient?’</p> +<p>‘It would be sufficient,’ answered the unhappy +man. ‘But—’</p> +<p>She looked up with a reproachful smile, and shook her +head. ‘That summer,’ she went on, ‘you +asked me ten times if you asked me once. I am older now; +much more of a woman, you know; and my opinion is changed about +some people; especially about one.’</p> +<p>‘O Anne, Anne!’ he burst out as, racked between +honour and desire, he snatched up her hand. The next moment +it fell heavily to her lap. He had absolutely relinquished +it half-way to his lips.</p> +<p>‘I have been thinking lately,’ he said, with +preternaturally sudden calmness, ‘that men of the military +profession ought not to m—ought to be like St. Paul, I +mean.’</p> +<p>‘Fie, John; pretending religion!’ she said +sternly. ‘It isn’t that at all. +<i>It’s Bob</i>!’</p> +<p>‘Yes!’ cried the miserable trumpet-major. +‘I have had a letter from him to-day.’ He pulled out +a sheet of paper from his breast. ‘That’s +it! He’s promoted—he’s a lieutenant, and +appointed to a sloop that only cruises on our own coast, so that +he’ll be at home on leave half his time—he’ll +be a gentleman some day, and worthy of you!’</p> +<p>He threw the letter into her lap, and drew back to the other +side of the gable-wall. Anne jumped up from her seat, flung +away the letter without looking at it, and went hastily on. +John did not attempt to overtake her. Picking up the +letter, he followed in her wake at a distance of a hundred +yards.</p> +<p>But, though Anne had withdrawn from his presence thus +precipitately, she never thought more highly of him in her life +than she did five minutes afterwards, when the excitement of the +moment had passed. She saw it all quite clearly; and his +self-sacrifice impressed her so much that the effect was just the +reverse of what he had been aiming to produce. The more he +pleaded for Bob, the more her perverse generosity pleaded for +John. To-day the crisis had come—with what results +she had not foreseen.</p> +<p>As soon as the trumpet-major reached the nearest pen-and-ink +he flung himself into a seat and wrote wildly to Bob:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear +Robert</span>,—I write these few lines to let you know that +if you want Anne Garland you must come at once—you must +come instantly, and post-haste—<i>or she will be +gone</i>! Somebody else wants her, and she wants him! +It is your last chance, in the opinion of—</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Your faithful brother and +well-wisher,<br /> +‘<span class="smcap">John</span>.</p> +<p>‘P.S.—Glad to hear of your promotion. Tell +me the day and I’ll meet the coach.’</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>XXXIX. BOB LOVEDAY STRUTS UP AND DOWN</h2> +<p>One night, about a week later, two men were walking in the +dark along the turnpike road towards Overcombe, one of them with +a bag in his hand.</p> +<p>‘Now,’ said the taller of the two, the squareness +of whose shoulders signified that he wore epaulettes, ‘now +you must do the best you can for yourself, Bob. I have done +all I can; but th’hast thy work cut out, I can tell +thee.’</p> +<p>‘I wouldn’t have run such a risk for the +world,’ said the other, in a tone of ingenuous +contrition. ‘But thou’st see, Jack, I +didn’t think there was any danger, knowing you was taking +care of her, and keeping my place warm for me. I +didn’t hurry myself, that’s true; but, thinks I, if I +get this promotion I am promised I shall naturally have leave, +and then I’ll go and see ’em all. Gad, I +shouldn’t have been here now but for your +letter!’</p> +<p>‘You little think what risks you’ve run,’ +said his brother. ‘However, try to make up for lost +time.’</p> +<p>‘All right. And whatever you do, Jack, don’t +say a word about this other girl. Hang the girl!—I +was a great fool, I know; still, it is over now, and I am come to +my senses. I suppose Anne never caught a capful of wind +from that quarter?’</p> +<p>‘She knows all about it,’ said John seriously.</p> +<p>‘Knows? By George, then, I’m ruined!’ +said Bob, standing stock-still in the road as if he meant to +remain there all night.</p> +<p>‘That’s what I meant by saying it would be a hard +battle for ’ee,’ returned John, with the same +quietness as before.</p> +<p>Bob sighed and moved on. ‘I don’t deserve +that woman!’ he cried passionately, thumping his three +upper ribs with his fist.</p> +<p>‘I’ve thought as much myself,’ observed +John, with a dryness which was almost bitter. ‘But it +depends on how thou’st behave in future.’</p> +<p>‘John,’ said Bob, taking his brother’s hand, +‘I’ll be a new man. I solemnly swear by that +eternal milestone staring at me there that I’ll never look +at another woman with the thought of marrying her whilst that +darling is free—no, not if she be a mermaiden of +light! It’s a lucky thing that I’m slipped in +on the quarterdeck! it may help me with her—hey?’</p> +<p>‘It may with her mother; I don’t think it will +make much difference with Anne. Still, it is a good thing; +and I hope that some day you’ll command a big +ship.’</p> +<p>Bob shook his head. ‘Officers are scarce; but +I’m afraid my luck won’t carry me so far as +that.’</p> +<p>‘Did she ever tell you that she mentioned your name to +the King?’</p> +<p>The seaman stood still again. ‘Never!’ he +said. ‘How did such a thing as that happen, in +Heaven’s name?’</p> +<p>John described in detail, and they walked on, lost in +conjecture.</p> +<p>As soon as they entered the house the returned officer of the +navy was welcomed with acclamation by his father and David, with +mild approval by Mrs. Loveday, and by Anne not at all—that +discreet maiden having carefully retired to her own room some +time earlier in the evening. Bob did not dare to ask for +her in any positive manner; he just inquired about her health, +and that was all.</p> +<p>‘Why, what’s the matter with thy face, my +son?’ said the miller, staring. ‘David, show a +light here.’ And a candle was thrust against +Bob’s cheek, where there appeared a jagged streak like the +geological remains of a lobster.</p> +<p>‘O—that’s where that rascally +Frenchman’s grenade busted and hit me from the Redoubtable, +you know, as I told ’ee in my letter.’</p> +<p>‘Not a word!’</p> +<p>‘What, didn’t I tell ’ee? Ah, no; I +meant to, but I forgot it.’</p> +<p>‘And here’s a sort of dint in yer forehead too; +what do that mean, my dear boy?’ said the miller, putting +his finger in a chasm in Bob’s skull.</p> +<p>‘That was done in the Indies. Yes, that was rather +a troublesome chop—a cutlass did it. I should have +told ’ee, but I found ’twould make my letter so long +that I put it off, and put it off; and at last thought it +wasn’t worth while.’</p> +<p>John soon rose to take his departure.</p> +<p>‘It’s all up with me and her, you see,’ said +Bob to him outside the door. ‘She’s not even +going to see me.’</p> +<p>‘Wait a little,’ said the trumpet-major. It +was easy enough on the night of the arrival, in the midst of +excitement, when blood was warm, for Anne to be resolute in her +avoidance of Bob Loveday. But in the morning determination +is apt to grow invertebrate; rules of pugnacity are less easily +acted up to, and a feeling of live and let live takes possession +of the gentle soul. Anne had not meant even to sit down to +the same breakfast-table with Bob; but when the rest were +assembled, and had got some way through the substantial repast +which was served at this hour in the miller’s house, Anne +entered. She came silently as a phantom, her eyes cast +down, her cheeks pale. It was a good long walk from the +door to the table, and Bob made a full inspection of her as she +came up to a chair at the remotest corner, in the direct rays of +the morning light, where she dumbly sat herself down.</p> +<p>It was altogether different from how she had expected. +Here was she, who had done nothing, feeling all the +embarrassment; and Bob, who had done the wrong, feeling +apparently quite at ease.</p> +<p>‘You’ll speak to Bob, won’t you, +honey?’ said the miller after a silence. To meet Bob +like this after an absence seemed irregular in his eyes.</p> +<p>‘If he wish me to,’ she replied, so addressing the +miller that no part, scrap, or outlying beam whatever of her +glance passed near the subject of her remark.</p> +<p>‘He’s a lieutenant, you know, dear,’ said +her mother on the same side; ‘and he’s been +dreadfully wounded.’</p> +<p>‘Oh?’ said Anne, turning a little towards the +false one; at which Bob felt it to be time for him to put in a +spoke for himself.</p> +<p>‘I am glad to see you,’ he said contritely; +‘and how do you do?’</p> +<p>‘Very well, thank you.’</p> +<p>He extended his hand. She allowed him to take hers, but +only to the extent of a niggardly inch or so. At the same +moment she glanced up at him, when their eyes met, and hers were +again withdrawn.</p> +<p>The hitch between the two younger members of the household +tended to make the breakfast a dull one. Bob was so +depressed by her unforgiving manner that he could not throw that +sparkle into his stories which their substance naturally +required; and when the meal was over, and they went about their +different businesses, the pair resembled the two Dromios in +seldom or never being, thanks to Anne’s subtle +contrivances, both in the same room at the same time.</p> +<p>This kind of performance repeated itself during several +days. At last, after dogging her hither and thither, +leaning with a wrinkled forehead against doorposts, taking an +oblique view into the room where she happened to be, picking up +worsted balls and getting no thanks, placing a splinter from the +Victory, several bullets from the Redoubtable, a strip of the +flag, and other interesting relics, carefully labelled, upon her +table, and hearing no more about them than if they had been +pebbles from the nearest brook, he hit upon a new plan. To +avoid him she frequently sat upstairs in a window overlooking the +garden. Lieutenant Loveday carefully dressed himself in a +new uniform, which he had caused to be sent some days before, to +dazzle admiring friends, but which he had never as yet put on in +public or mentioned to a soul. When arrayed he entered the +sunny garden, and there walked slowly up and down as he had seen +Nelson and Captain Hardy do on the quarter-deck; but keeping his +right shoulder, on which his one epaulette was fixed, as much +towards Anne’s window as possible.</p> +<p>But she made no sign, though there was not the least question +that she saw him. At the end of half-an-hour he went in, +took off his clothes, and gave himself up to doubt and the best +tobacco.</p> +<p>He repeated the programme on the next afternoon, and on the +next, never saying a word within doors about his doings or his +notice.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the results in Anne’s chamber were not +uninteresting. She had been looking out on the first day, +and was duly amazed to see a naval officer in full uniform +promenading in the path. Finding it to be Bob, she left the +window with a sense that the scene was not for her; then, from +mere curiosity, peeped out from behind the curtain. Well, +he was a pretty spectacle, she admitted, relieved as his figure +was by a dense mass of sunny, close-trimmed hedge, over which +nasturtiums climbed in wild luxuriance; and if she could care for +him one bit, which she couldn’t, his form would have been a +delightful study, surpassing in interest even its splendour on +the memorable day of their visit to the town theatre. She +called her mother; Mrs. Loveday came promptly.</p> +<p>‘O, it is nothing,’ said Anne indifferently; +‘only that Bob has got his uniform.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Loveday peeped out, and raised her hands with +delight. ‘And he has not said a word to us about +it! What a lovely epaulette! I must call his +father.’</p> +<p>‘No, indeed. As I take no interest in him I shall +not let people come into my room to admire him.’</p> +<p>‘Well, you called me,’ said her mother.</p> +<p>‘It was because I thought you liked fine clothes. +It is what I don’t care for.’</p> +<p>Notwithstanding this assertion she again looked out at Bob the +next afternoon when his footsteps rustled on the gravel, and +studied his appearance under all the varying angles of the +sunlight, as if fine clothes and uniforms were not altogether a +matter of indifference. He certainly was a splendid, +gentlemanly, and gallant sailor from end to end of him; but then, +what were a dashing presentment, a naval rank, and telling scars, +if a man was fickle-hearted? However, she peeped on till +the fourth day, and then she did not peep. The window was +open, she looked right out, and Bob knew that he had got a rise +to his bait at last. He touched his hat to her, keeping his +right shoulder forwards, and said, ‘Good-day, Miss +Garland,’ with a smile.</p> +<p>Anne replied, ‘Good-day,’ with funereal +seriousness; and the acquaintance thus revived led to the +interchange of a few words at supper-time, at which Mrs. Loveday +nodded with satisfaction. But Anne took especial care that +he should never meet her alone, and to insure this her ingenuity +was in constant exercise. There were so many nooks and +windings on the miller’s rambling premises that she could +never be sure he would not turn up within a foot of her, +particularly as his thin shoes were almost noiseless.</p> +<p>One fine afternoon she accompanied Molly in search of +elderberries for making the family wine which was drunk by Mrs. +Loveday, Anne, and anybody who could not stand the rougher and +stronger liquors provided by the miller. After walking +rather a long distance over the down they came to a grassy +hollow, where elder-bushes in knots of twos and threes rose from +an uneven bank and hung their heads towards the south, black and +heavy with bunches of fruit. The charm of fruit-gathering +to girls is enhanced in the case of elderberries by the +inoffensive softness of the leaves, boughs, and bark, which makes +getting into the branches easy and pleasant to the most +indifferent climbers. Anne and Molly had soon gathered a +basketful, and sending the servant home with it, Anne remained in +the bush picking and throwing down bunch by bunch upon the +grass. She was so absorbed in her occupation of pulling the +twigs towards her, and the rustling of their leaves so filled her +ears, that it was a great surprise when, on turning her head, she +perceived a similar movement to her own among the boughs of the +adjoining bush.</p> +<p>At first she thought they were disturbed by being partly in +contact with the boughs of her bush; but in a moment Robert +Loveday’s face peered from them, at a distance of about a +yard from her own. Anne uttered a little indignant +‘Well!’ recovered herself, and went on +plucking. Bob thereupon went on plucking likewise.</p> +<p>‘I am picking elderberries for your mother,’ said +the lieutenant at last, humbly.</p> +<p>‘So I see.’</p> +<p>‘And I happen to have come to the next bush to +yours.’</p> +<p>‘So I see; but not the reason why.’</p> +<p>Anne was now in the westernmost branches of the bush, and Bob +had leant across into the eastern branches of his. In +gathering he swayed towards her, back again, forward again.</p> +<p>‘I beg pardon,’ he said, when a further swing than +usual had taken him almost in contact with her.</p> +<p>‘Then why do you do it?’</p> +<p>‘The wind rocks the bough, and the bough rocks +me.’ She expressed by a look her opinion of this +statement in the face of the gentlest breeze; and Bob pursued: +‘I am afraid the berries will stain your pretty +hands.’</p> +<p>‘I wear gloves.’</p> +<p>‘Ah, that’s a plan I should never have thought +of. Can I help you?’</p> +<p>‘Not at all.’</p> +<p>‘You are offended: that’s what that +means.’</p> +<p>‘No,’ she said.</p> +<p>‘Then will you shake hands?’</p> +<p>Anne hesitated; then slowly stretched out her hand, which he +took at once. ‘That will do,’ she said, finding +that he did not relinquish it immediately. But as he still +held it, she pulled, the effect of which was to draw Bob’s +swaying person, bough and all, towards her, and herself towards +him.</p> +<p>‘I am afraid to let go your hand,’ said that +officer, ‘for if I do your spar will fly back, and you will +be thrown upon the deck with great violence.’</p> +<p>‘I wish you to let me go!’</p> +<p>He accordingly did, and she flew back, but did not by any +means fall.</p> +<p>‘It reminds me of the times when I used to be aloft +clinging to a yard not much bigger than this tree-stem, in the +mid-Atlantic, and thinking about you. I could see you in my +fancy as plain as I see you now.’</p> +<p>‘Me, or some other woman!’ retorted Anne +haughtily.</p> +<p>‘No!’ declared Bob, shaking the bush for emphasis, +‘I’ll protest that I did not think of anybody but you +all the time we were dropping down channel, all the time we were +off Cadiz, all the time through battles and bombardments. I +seemed to see you in the smoke, and, thinks I, if I go to +Davy’s locker, what will she do?’</p> +<p>‘You didn’t think that when you landed after +Trafalgar.’</p> +<p>‘Well, now,’ said the lieutenant in a reasoning +tone; ‘that was a curious thing. You’ll hardly +believe it, maybe; but when a man is away from the woman he loves +best in the port—world, I mean—he can have a sort of +temporary feeling for another without disturbing the old one, +which flows along under the same as ever.’</p> +<p>‘I can’t believe it, and won’t,’ said +Anne firmly.</p> +<p>Molly now appeared with the empty basket, and when it had been +filled from the heap on the grass, Anne went home with her, +bidding Loveday a frigid adieu.</p> +<p>The same evening, when Bob was absent, the miller proposed +that they should all three go to an upper window of the house, to +get a distant view of some rockets and illuminations which were +to be exhibited in the town and harbour in honour of the King, +who had returned this year as usual. They accordingly went +upstairs to an empty attic, placed chairs against the window, and +put out the light; Anne sitting in the middle, her mother close +by, and the miller behind, smoking. No sign of any +pyrotechnic display was visible over the port as yet, and Mrs. +Loveday passed the time by talking to the miller, who replied in +monosyllables. While this was going on Anne fancied that +she heard some one approach, and presently felt sure that Bob was +drawing near her in the surrounding darkness; but as the other +two had noticed nothing she said not a word.</p> +<p>All at once the swarthy expanse of southward sky was broken by +the blaze of several rockets simultaneously ascending from +different ships in the roads. At the very same moment a +warm mysterious hand slipped round her own, and gave it a gentle +squeeze.</p> +<p>‘O dear!’ said Anne, with a sudden start away.</p> +<p>‘How nervous you are, child, to be startled by fireworks +so far off,’ said Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>‘I never saw rockets before,’ murmured Anne, +recovering from her surprise.</p> +<p>Mrs. Loveday presently spoke again. ‘I wonder what +has become of Bob?’</p> +<p>Anne did not reply, being much exercised in trying to get her +hand away from the one that imprisoned it; and whatever the +miller thought he kept to himself, because it disturbed his +smoking to speak.</p> +<p>Another batch of rockets went up. ‘O I +never!’ said Anne, in a half-suppressed tone, springing in +her chair. A second hand had with the rise of the rockets +leapt round her waist.</p> +<p>‘Poor girl, you certainly must have change of scene at +this rate,’ said Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>‘I suppose I must,’ murmured the dutiful +daughter.</p> +<p>For some minutes nothing further occurred to disturb +Anne’s serenity. Then a slow, quiet +‘a-hem’ came from the obscurity of the apartment.</p> +<p>‘What, Bob? How long have you been there?’ +inquired Mrs. Loveday.</p> +<p>‘Not long,’ said the lieutenant coolly. +‘I heard you were all here, and crept up quietly, not to +disturb ye.’</p> +<p>‘Why don’t you wear heels to your shoes like +Christian people, and not creep about so like a cat?’</p> +<p>‘Well, it keeps your floors clean to go +slip-shod.’</p> +<p>‘That’s true.’</p> +<p>Meanwhile Anne was gently but firmly trying to pull +Bob’s arm from her waist, her distressful difficulty being +that in freeing her waist she enslaved her hand, and in getting +her hand free she enslaved her waist. Finding the struggle +a futile one, owing to the invisibility of her antagonist, and +her wish to keep its nature secret from the other two, she arose, +and saying that she did not care to see any more, felt her way +downstairs. Bob followed, leaving Loveday and his wife to +themselves.</p> +<p>‘Dear Anne,’ he began, when he had got down, and +saw her in the candle-light of the large room. But she +adroitly passed out at the other door, at which he took a candle +and followed her to the small room. ‘Dear Anne, do +let me speak,’ he repeated, as soon as the rays revealed +her figure. But she passed into the bakehouse before he +could say more; whereupon he perseveringly did the same. +Looking round for her here he perceived her at the end of the +room, where there were no means of exit whatever.</p> +<p>‘Dear Anne,’ he began again, setting down the +candle, ‘you must try to forgive me; really you must. +I love you the best of anybody in the wide, wide world. Try +to forgive me; come!’ And he imploringly took her +hand.</p> +<p>Anne’s bosom began to surge and fall like a small tide, +her eyes remaining fixed upon the floor; till, when Loveday +ventured to draw her slightly towards him, she burst out +crying. ‘I don’t like you, Bob; I +don’t!’ she suddenly exclaimed between her +sobs. ‘I did once, but I don’t now—I +can’t, I can’t; you have been very cruel to +me!’ She violently turned away, weeping.</p> +<p>‘I have, I have been terribly bad, I know,’ +answered Bob, conscience-stricken by her grief. +‘But—if you could only forgive me—I promise +that I’ll never do anything to grieve ’ee +again. Do you forgive me, Anne?’</p> +<p>Anne’s only reply was crying and shaking her head.</p> +<p>‘Let’s make it up. Come, say we have made it +up, dear.’</p> +<p>She withdrew her hand, and still keeping her eyes buried in +her handkerchief, said ‘No.’</p> +<p>‘Very well, then!’ exclaimed Bob, with sudden +determination. ‘Now I know my doom! And +whatever you hear of as happening to me, mind this, you cruel +girl, that it is all your causing!’ Saying this he +strode with a hasty tread across the room into the passage and +out at the door, slamming it loudly behind him.</p> +<p>Anne suddenly looked up from her handkerchief, and stared with +round wet eyes and parted lips at the door by which he had +gone. Having remained with suspended breath in this +attitude for a few seconds she turned round, bent her head upon +the table, and burst out weeping anew with thrice the violence of +the former time. It really seemed now as if her grief would +overwhelm her, all the emotions which had been suppressed, +bottled up, and concealed since Bob’s return having made +themselves a sluice at last.</p> +<p>But such things have their end; and left to herself in the +large, vacant, old apartment, she grew quieter, and at last +calm. At length she took the candle and ascended to her +bedroom, where she bathed her eyes and looked in the glass to see +if she had made herself a dreadful object. It was not so +bad as she had expected, and she went downstairs again.</p> +<p>Nobody was there, and, sitting down, she wondered what Bob had +really meant by his words. It was too dreadful to think +that he intended to go straight away to sea without seeing her +again, and frightened at what she had done she waited anxiously +for his return.</p> +<h2>XL. A CALL ON BUSINESS</h2> +<p>Her suspense was interrupted by a very gentle tapping at the +door, and then the rustle of a hand over its surface, as if +searching for the latch in the dark. The door opened a few +inches, and the alabaster face of Uncle Benjy appeared in the +slit.</p> +<p>‘O, Squire Derriman, you frighten me!’</p> +<p>‘All alone?’ he asked in a whisper.</p> +<p>‘My mother and Mr. Loveday are somewhere about the +house.’</p> +<p>‘That will do,’ he said, coming forward. +‘I be wherrited out of my life, and I have thought of you +again—you yourself, dear Anne, and not the miller. If +you will only take this and lock it up for a few days till I can +find another good place for it—if you only +would!’ And he breathlessly deposited the tin box on +the table.</p> +<p>‘What, obliged to dig it up from the cellar?’</p> +<p>‘Ay; my nephew hath a scent of the place—how, I +don’t know! but he and a young woman he’s met with +are searching everywhere. I worked like a wire-drawer to +get it up and away while they were scraping in the next +cellar. Now where could ye put it, dear? ’Tis +only a few documents, and my will, and such like, you know. +Poor soul o’ me, I’m worn out with running and +fright!’</p> +<p>‘I’ll put it here till I can think of a better +place,’ said Anne, lifting the box. ‘Dear me, +how heavy it is!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ said Uncle Benjy hastily; ‘the +box is iron, you see. However, take care of it, because I +am going to make it worth your while. Ah, you are a good +girl, Anne. I wish you was mine!’</p> +<p>Anne looked at Uncle Benjy. She had known for some time +that she possessed all the affection he had to bestow.</p> +<p>‘Why do you wish that?’ she said simply.</p> +<p>‘Now don’t ye argue with me. Where +d’ye put the coffer?’</p> +<p>‘Here,’ said Anne, going to the window-seat, which +rose as a flap, disclosing a boxed receptacle beneath, as in many +old houses.</p> +<p>‘’Tis very well for the present,’ he said +dubiously, and they dropped the coffer in, Anne locking down the +seat, and giving him the key. ‘Now I don’t want +ye to be on my side for nothing,’ he went on. +‘I never did now, did I? This is for +you.’ He handed her a little packet of paper, which +Anne turned over and looked at curiously. ‘I always +meant to do it,’ continued Uncle Benjy, gazing at the +packet as it lay in her hand, and sighing. ‘Come, +open it, my dear; I always meant to do it!’</p> +<p>She opened it and found twenty new guineas snugly packed +within.</p> +<p>‘Yes, they are for you. I always meant to do +it!’ he said, sighing again.</p> +<p>‘But you owe me nothing!’ returned Anne, holding +them out.</p> +<p>‘Don’t say it!’ cried Uncle Benjy, covering +his eyes. ‘Put ’em away. . . . Well, if +you <i>don’t</i> want ’em—But put ’em +away, dear Anne; they are for you, because you have kept my +counsel. Good-night t’ye. Yes, they are for +you.’</p> +<p>He went a few steps, and turning back added anxiously, +‘You won’t spend ’em in clothes, or waste +’em in fairings, or ornaments of any kind, my dear +girl?’</p> +<p>‘I will not,’ said Anne. ‘I wish you +would have them.’</p> +<p>‘No, no,’ said Uncle Benjy, rushing off to escape +their shine. But he had got no further than the passage +when he returned again.</p> +<p>‘And you won’t lend ’em to anybody, or put +’em into the bank—for no bank is safe in these +troublous times?. . . If I was you I’d keep them +<i>exactly</i> as they be, and not spend ’em on any +account. Shall I lock them into my box for ye?’</p> +<p>‘Certainly,’ said she; and the farmer rapidly +unlocked the window-bench, opened the box, and locked them +in.</p> +<p>‘’Tis much the best plan,’ he said with +great satisfaction as he returned the keys to his pocket. +‘There they will always be safe, you see, and you +won’t be exposed to temptation.’</p> +<p>When the old man had been gone a few minutes, the miller and +his wife came in, quite unconscious of all that had passed. +Anne’s anxiety about Bob was again uppermost now, and she +spoke but meagrely of old Derriman’s visit, and nothing of +what he had left. She would fain have asked them if they +knew where Bob was, but that she did not wish to inform them of +the rupture. She was forced to admit to herself that she +had somewhat tried his patience, and that impulsive men had been +known to do dark things with themselves at such times.</p> +<p>They sat down to supper, the clock ticked rapidly on, and at +length the miller said, ‘Bob is later than usual. +Where can he be?’</p> +<p>As they both looked at her, she could no longer keep the +secret.</p> +<p>‘It is my fault,’ she cried; ‘I have driven +him away! What shall I do?’</p> +<p>The nature of the quarrel was at once guessed, and her two +elders said no more. Anne rose and went to the front door, +where she listened for every sound with a palpitating +heart. Then she went in; then she went out: and on one +occasion she heard the miller say, ‘I wonder what hath +passed between Bob and Anne. I hope the chap will come +home.’</p> +<p>Just about this time light footsteps were heard without, and +Bob bounced into the passage. Anne, who stood back in the +dark while he passed, followed him into the room, where her +mother and the miller were on the point of retiring to bed, +candle in hand.</p> +<p>‘I have kept ye up, I fear,’ began Bob cheerily, +and apparently without the faintest recollection of his tragic +exit from the house. ‘But the truth on’t is, I +met with Fess Derriman at the “Duke of York” as I +went from here, and there we have been playing Put ever since, +not noticing how the time was going. I haven’t had a +good chat with the fellow for years and years, and really he is +an out and out good comrade—a regular hearty! Poor +fellow, he’s been very badly used. I never heard the +rights of the story till now; but it seems that old uncle of his +treats him shamefully. He has been hiding away his money, +so that poor Fess might not have a farthing, till at last the +young man has turned, like any other worm, and is now determined +to ferret out what he has done with it. The poor young chap +hadn’t a farthing of ready money till I lent him a couple +of guineas—a thing I never did more willingly in my +life. But the man was very honourable. “No; +no,” says he, “don’t let me deprive +ye.” He’s going to marry, and what may you +think he is going to do it for?’</p> +<p>‘For love, I hope,’ said Anne’s mother.</p> +<p>‘For money, I suppose, since he’s so short,’ +said the miller.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Bob, ‘for <i>spite</i>. He +has been badly served—deuced badly served—by a +woman. I never heard of a more heartless case in my +life. The poor chap wouldn’t mention names, but it +seems this young woman has trifled with him in all manner of +cruel ways—pushed him into the river, tried to steal his +horse when he was called out to defend his country—in +short, served him rascally. So I gave him the two guineas +and said, “Now let’s drink to the hussy’s +downfall!”’</p> +<p>‘O!’ said Anne, having approached behind him.</p> +<p>Bob turned and saw her, and at the same moment Mr. and Mrs. +Loveday discreetly retired by the other door.</p> +<p>‘Is it peace?’ he asked tenderly.</p> +<p>‘O yes,’ she anxiously replied. +‘I—didn’t mean to make you think I had no +heart.’ At this Bob inclined his countenance towards +hers. ‘No,’ she said, smiling through two +incipient tears as she drew back. ‘You are to show +good behaviour for six months, and you must promise not to +frighten me again by running off when I—show you how badly +you have served me.’</p> +<p>‘I am yours obedient—in anything,’ cried +Bob. ‘But am I pardoned?’</p> +<p>Youth is foolish; and does a woman often let her reasoning in +favour of the worthier stand in the way of her perverse desire +for the less worthy at such times as these? She murmured +some soft words, ending with ‘Do you repent?’</p> +<p>It would be superfluous to transcribe Bob’s answer.</p> +<p>Footsteps were heard without.</p> +<p>‘O begad; I forgot!’ said Bob. +‘He’s waiting out there for a light.’</p> +<p>‘Who?’</p> +<p>‘My friend Derriman.’</p> +<p>‘But, Bob, I have to explain.’</p> +<p>But Festus had by this time entered the lobby, and Anne, with +a hasty ‘Get rid of him at once!’ vanished +upstairs.</p> +<p>Here she waited and waited, but Festus did not seem inclined +to depart; and at last, foreboding some collision of interests +from Bob’s new friendship for this man, she crept into a +storeroom which was over the apartment into which Loveday and +Festus had gone. By looking through a knot-hole in the +floor it was easy to command a view of the room beneath, this +being unceiled, with moulded beams and rafters.</p> +<p>Festus had sat down on the hollow window-bench, and was +continuing the statement of his wrongs. ‘If he only +knew what he was sitting upon,’ she thought apprehensively, +‘how easily he could tear up the flap, lock and all, with +his strong arm, and seize upon poor Uncle Benjy’s +possessions!’ But he did not appear to know, unless +he were acting, which was just possible. After a while he +rose, and going to the table lifted the candle to light his +pipe. At the moment when the flame began diving into the +bowl the door noiselessly opened and a figure slipped across the +room to the window-bench, hastily unlocked it, withdrew the box, +and beat a retreat. Anne in a moment recognized the ghostly +intruder as Festus Derriman’s uncle. Before he could +get out of the room Festus set down the candle and turned.</p> +<p>‘What—Uncle Benjy—haw, haw! Here at +this time of night?’</p> +<p>Uncle Benjy’s eyes grew paralyzed, and his mouth opened +and shut like a frog’s in a drought, the action producing +no sound.</p> +<p>‘What have we got here—a tin box—the box of +boxes? Why, I’ll carry it for ’ee, +uncle!—I am going home.’</p> +<p>‘N-no-no, thanky, Festus: it is n-n-not heavy at all, +thanky,’ gasped the squireen.</p> +<p>‘O but I must,’ said Festus, pulling at the +box.</p> +<p>‘Don’t let him have it, Bob!’ screamed the +excited Anne through the hole in the floor.</p> +<p>‘No, don’t let him!’ cried the uncle. +‘’Tis a plot—there’s a woman at the +window waiting to help him!’</p> +<p>Anne’s eyes flew to the window, and she saw +Matilda’s face pressed against the pane.</p> +<p>Bob, though he did not know whence Anne’s command +proceeded obeyed with alacrity, pulled the box from the two +relatives, and placed it on the table beside him.</p> +<p>‘Now, look here, hearties; what’s the meaning +o’ this?’ he said.</p> +<p>‘He’s trying to rob me of all I possess!’ +cried the old man. ‘My heart-strings seem as if they +were going crack, crack, crack!’</p> +<p>At this instant the miller in his shirt-sleeves entered the +room, having got thus far in his undressing when he heard the +noise. Bob and Festus turned to him to explain; and when +the latter had had his say Bob added, ‘Well, all I know is +that this box’—here he stretched out his hand to lay +it upon the lid for emphasis. But as nothing but thin air +met his fingers where the box had been, he turned, and found that +the box was gone, Uncle Benjy having vanished also.</p> +<p>Festus, with an imprecation, hastened to the door, but though +the night was not dark Farmer Derriman and his burden were +nowhere to be seen. On the bridge Festus joined a shadowy +female form, and they went along the road together, followed for +some distance by Bob, lest they should meet with and harm the old +man. But the precaution was unnecessary: nowhere on the +road was there any sign of Farmer Derriman, or of the box that +belonged to him. When Bob re-entered the house Anne and +Mrs. Loveday had joined the miller downstairs, and then for the +first time he learnt who had been the heroine of Festus’s +lamentable story, with many other particulars of that +yeoman’s history which he had never before known. Bob +swore that he would not speak to the traitor again, and the +family retired.</p> +<p>The escape of old Mr. Derriman from the annoyances of his +nephew not only held good for that night, but for next day, and +for ever. Just after dawn on the following morning a +labouring man, who was going to his work, saw the old farmer and +landowner leaning over a rail in a mead near his house, +apparently engaged in contemplating the water of a brook before +him. Drawing near, the man spoke, but Uncle Benjy did not +reply. His head was hanging strangely, his body being +supported in its erect position entirely by the rail that passed +under each arm. On after-examination it was found that +Uncle Benjy’s poor withered heart had cracked and stopped +its beating from damages inflicted on it by the excitements of +his life, and of the previous night in particular. The +unconscious carcass was little more than a light empty husk, dry +and fleshless as that of a dead heron found on a moor in +January.</p> +<p>But the tin box was not discovered with or near him. It +was searched for all the week, and all the month. The +mill-pond was dragged, quarries were examined, woods were +threaded, rewards were offered; but in vain.</p> +<p>At length one day in the spring, when the mill-house was about +to be cleaned throughout, the chimney-board of Anne’s +bedroom, concealing a yawning fire-place, had to be taken +down. In the chasm behind it stood the missing deed-box of +Farmer Derriman.</p> +<p>Many were the conjectures as to how it had got there. Then +Anne remembered that on going to bed on the night of the +collision between Festus and his uncle in the room below, she had +seen mud on the carpet of her room, and the miller remembered +that he had seen footprints on the back staircase. The +solution of the mystery seemed to be that the late Uncle Benjy, +instead of running off from the house with his box, had doubled +on getting out of the front door, entered at the back, deposited +his box in Anne’s chamber where it was found, and then +leisurely pursued his way home at the heels of Festus, intending +to tell Anne of his trick the next day—an intention that +was for ever frustrated by the stroke of death.</p> +<p>Mr. Derriman’s solicitor was a Casterbridge man, and +Anne placed the box in his hands. Uncle Benjy’s will +was discovered within; and by this testament Anne’s queer +old friend appointed her sole executrix of his said will, and, +more than that, gave and bequeathed to the same young lady all +his real and personal estate, with the solitary exception of five +small freehold houses in a back street in Budmouth, which were +devised to his nephew Festus, as a sufficient property to +maintain him decently, without affording any margin for +extravagances. Oxwell Hall, with its muddy quadrangle, +archways, mullioned windows, cracked battlements, and weed-grown +garden, passed with the rest into the hands of Anne.</p> +<h2>XLI. JOHN MARCHES INTO THE NIGHT</h2> +<p>During this exciting time John Loveday seldom or never +appeared at the mill. With the recall of Bob, in which he +had been sole agent, his mission seemed to be complete.</p> +<p>One mid-day, before Anne had made any change in her manner of +living on account of her unexpected acquisition, Lieutenant Bob +came in rather suddenly. He had been to Budmouth, and +announced to the arrested senses of the family that the --th +Dragoons were ordered to join Sir Arthur Wellesley in the +Peninsula.</p> +<p>These tidings produced a great impression on the +household. John had been so long in the neighbourhood, +either at camp or in barracks, that they had almost forgotten the +possibility of his being sent away; and they now began to reflect +upon the singular infrequency of his calls since his +brother’s return. There was not much time, however, +for reflection, if they wished to make the most of John’s +farewell visit, which was to be paid the same evening, the +departure of the regiment being fixed for next day. A +hurried valedictory supper was prepared during the afternoon, and +shortly afterwards John arrived.</p> +<p>He seemed to be more thoughtful and a trifle paler than of +old, but beyond these traces, which might have been due to the +natural wear and tear of time, he showed no signs of gloom. +On his way through the town that morning a curious little +incident had occurred to him. He was walking past one of +the churches when a wedding-party came forth, the bride and +bridegroom being Matilda and Festus Derriman. At sight of +the trumpet-major the yeoman had glared triumphantly; Matilda, on +her part, had winked at him slily, as much as to +say—. But what she meant heaven knows: the +trumpet-major did not trouble himself to think, and passed on +without returning the mark of confidence with which she had +favoured him.</p> +<p>Soon after John’s arrival at the mill several of his +friends dropped in for the same purpose of bidding adieu. +They were mostly the men who had been entertained there on the +occasion of the regiment’s advent on the down, when Anne +and her mother were coaxed in to grace the party by their +superior presence; and their well-trained, gallant manners were +such as to make them interesting visitors now as at all +times. For it was a period when romance had not so greatly +faded out of military life as it has done in these days of short +service, heterogeneous mixing, and transient campaigns; when the +esprit de corps was strong, and long experience stamped +noteworthy professional characteristics even on rank and file; +while the miller’s visitors had the additional advantage of +being picked men.</p> +<p>They could not stay so long to-night as on that earlier and +more cheerful occasion, and the final adieus were spoken at an +early hour. It was no mere playing at departure, as when +they had gone to Exonbury barracks, and there was a warm and +prolonged shaking of hands all round.</p> +<p>‘You’ll wish the poor fellows good-bye?’ +said Bob to Anne, who had not come forward for that purpose like +the rest. ‘They are going away, and would like to +have your good word.’</p> +<p>She then shyly advanced, and every man felt that he must make +some pretty speech as he shook her by the hand.</p> +<p>‘Good-bye! May you remember us as long as it makes +ye happy, and forget us as soon as it makes ye sad,’ said +Sergeant Brett.</p> +<p>‘Good-night! Health, wealth, and long life to +ye!’ said Sergeant-major Wills, taking her hand from +Brett.</p> +<p>‘I trust to meet ye again as the wife of a worthy +man,’ said Trumpeter Buck.</p> +<p>‘We’ll drink your health throughout the campaign, +and so good-bye t’ye,’ said Saddler-sergeant Jones, +raising her hand to his lips.</p> +<p>Three others followed with similar remarks, to each of which +Anne blushingly replied as well as she could, wishing them a +prosperous voyage, easy conquest, and a speedy return.</p> +<p>But, alas, for that! Battles and skirmishes, advances +and retreats, fevers and fatigues, told hard on Anne’s +gallant friends in the coming time. Of the seven upon whom +these wishes were bestowed, five, including the trumpet-major, +were dead men within the few following years, and their bones +left to moulder in the land of their campaigns.</p> +<p>John lingered behind. When the others were outside, +expressing a final farewell to his father, Bob, and Mrs. Loveday, +he came to Anne, who remained within.</p> +<p>‘But I thought you were going to look in again before +leaving?’ she said gently.</p> +<p>‘No; I find I cannot. Good-bye!’</p> +<p>‘John,’ said Anne, holding his right hand in both +hers, ‘I must tell you something. You were wise in +not taking me at my word that day. I was greatly mistaken +about myself. Gratitude is not love, though I wanted to +make it so for the time. You don’t call me +thoughtless for what I did?’</p> +<p>‘My dear Anne,’ cried John, with more gaiety than +truthfulness, ‘don’t let yourself be troubled! +What happens is for the best. Soldiers love here to-day and +there to-morrow. Who knows that you won’t hear of my +attentions to some Spanish maid before a month is gone by? +’Tis the way of us, you know; a soldier’s heart is +not worth a week’s purchase—ha, ha! Goodbye, +good-bye!’</p> +<p>Anne felt the expediency of his manner, received the +affectation as real, and smiled her reply, not knowing that the +adieu was for evermore. Then with a tear in his eye he went +out of the door, where he bade farewell to the miller, Mrs. +Loveday, and Bob, who said at parting, ‘It’s all +right, Jack, my dear fellow. After a coaxing that would +have been enough to win three ordinary Englishwomen, five French, +and ten Mulotters, she has to-day agreed to bestow her hand upon +me at the end of six months. Good-bye, Jack, +good-bye!’</p> +<p>The candle held by his father shed its waving light upon +John’s face and uniform as with a farewell smile he turned +on the doorstone, backed by the black night; and in another +moment he had plunged into the darkness, the ring of his smart +step dying away upon the bridge as he joined his +companions-in-arms, and went off to blow his trumpet till +silenced for ever upon one of the bloody battle-fields of +Spain.</p> +<h2>Footnotes:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote207"></a><a href="#citation207" +class="footnote">[207]</a> <i>Vide</i> Preface.</p> +<p><a name="footnote211"></a><a href="#citation211" +class="footnote">[211]</a> <i>Vide</i> Preface.</p> +<p><a name="footnote225"></a><a href="#citation225" +class="footnote">[225]</a> <i>Vide</i> Preface.</p> +<p><a name="footnote272"></a><a href="#citation272" +class="footnote">[272]</a> <i>Vide</i> Preface.</p> +<p><a name="footnote303"></a><a href="#citation303" +class="footnote">[303]</a> <i>Vide</i> Preface.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRUMPET-MAJOR***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 2864-h.htm or 2864-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/6/2864 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Trumpet-Major + + +Author: Thomas Hardy + + + +Release Date: October 18, 2007 [eBook #2864] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRUMPET-MAJOR*** + + + +This etext was prepared by Les Bowler. + + + + + +THE TRUMPET-MAJOR +JOHN LOVEDAY + + +A SOLDIER IN THE WAR WITH BUONAPARTE +AND +ROBERT HIS BROTHER +FIRST MATE IN THE MERCHANT SERVICE + +A TALE + +BY +THOMAS HARDY + +WITH A MAP OF WESSEX + +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON +1920 + +COPYRIGHT + +_First Edition_ (3 _vols._) 1880. _New Edition_ (1 _vol._) _and +reprints_ 1881-1893 +_New Edition and reprints_ 1896-1900 +_First published by Macmillan and Co._, _Crown_ 8_vo_, 1903. _Reprinted_ +1906, 1910, 1914 +_Pocket Edition_ 1907. _Reprinted_ 1909, 1912, 1915, 1917, 1919, 1920 + + + + +PREFACE + + +The present tale is founded more largely on testimony--oral and +written--than any other in this series. The external incidents which +direct its course are mostly an unexaggerated reproduction of the +recollections of old persons well known to the author in childhood, but +now long dead, who were eye-witnesses of those scenes. If wholly +transcribed their recollections would have filled a volume thrice the +length of 'The Trumpet-Major.' + +Down to the middle of this century, and later, there were not wanting, in +the neighbourhood of the places more or less clearly indicated herein, +casual relics of the circumstances amid which the action moves--our +preparations for defence against the threatened invasion of England by +Buonaparte. An outhouse door riddled with bullet-holes, which had been +extemporized by a solitary man as a target for firelock practice when the +landing was hourly expected, a heap of bricks and clods on a beacon-hill, +which had formed the chimney and walls of the hut occupied by the beacon- +keeper, worm-eaten shafts and iron heads of pikes for the use of those +who had no better weapons, ridges on the down thrown up during the +encampment, fragments of volunteer uniform, and other such lingering +remains, brought to my imagination in early childhood the state of +affairs at the date of the war more vividly than volumes of history could +have done. + +Those who have attempted to construct a coherent narrative of past times +from the fragmentary information furnished by survivors, are aware of the +difficulty of ascertaining the true sequence of events indiscriminately +recalled. For this purpose the newspapers of the date were +indispensable. Of other documents consulted I may mention, for the +satisfaction of those who love a true story, that the 'Address to all +Ranks and Descriptions of Englishmen' was transcribed from an original +copy in a local museum; that the hieroglyphic portrait of Napoleon +existed as a print down to the present day in an old woman's cottage near +'Overcombe;' that the particulars of the King's doings at his favourite +watering-place were augmented by details from records of the time. The +drilling scene of the local militia received some additions from an +account given in so grave a work as Gifford's 'History of the Wars of the +French Revolution' (London, 1817). But on reference to the History I +find I was mistaken in supposing the account to be advanced as authentic, +or to refer to rural England. However, it does in a large degree accord +with the local traditions of such scenes that I have heard recounted, +times without number, and the system of drill was tested by reference to +the Army Regulations of 1801, and other military handbooks. Almost the +whole narrative of the supposed landing of the French in the Bay is from +oral relation as aforesaid. Other proofs of the veracity of this +chronicle have escaped my recollection. + +T. H. + +_October_ 1895. + + + + +I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DOWN + + +In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the vast amount +of soldiering going on in the country was a cause of much trembling to +the sex, there lived in a village near the Wessex coast two ladies of +good report, though unfortunately of limited means. The elder was a Mrs. +Martha Garland, a landscape-painter's widow, and the other was her only +daughter Anne. + +Anne was fair, very fair, in a poetical sense; but in complexion she was +of that particular tint between blonde and brunette which is +inconveniently left without a name. Her eyes were honest and inquiring, +her mouth cleanly cut and yet not classical, the middle point of her +upper lip scarcely descending so far as it should have done by rights, so +that at the merest pleasant thought, not to mention a smile, portions of +two or three white teeth were uncovered whether she would or not. Some +people said that this was very attractive. She was graceful and slender, +and, though but little above five feet in height, could draw herself up +to look tall. In her manner, in her comings and goings, in her 'I'll do +this,' or 'I'll do that,' she combined dignity with sweetness as no other +girl could do; and any impressionable stranger youths who passed by were +led to yearn for a windfall of speech from her, and to see at the same +time that they would not get it. In short, beneath all that was charming +and simple in this young woman there lurked a real firmness, unperceived +at first, as the speck of colour lurks unperceived in the heart of the +palest parsley flower. + +She wore a white handkerchief to cover her white neck, and a cap on her +head with a pink ribbon round it, tied in a bow at the front. She had a +great variety of these cap-ribbons, the young men being fond of sending +them to her as presents until they fell definitely in love with a special +sweetheart elsewhere, when they left off doing so. Between the border of +her cap and her forehead were ranged a row of round brown curls, like +swallows' nests under eaves. + +She lived with her widowed mother in a portion of an ancient building +formerly a manor-house, but now a mill, which, being too large for his +own requirements, the miller had found it convenient to divide and +appropriate in part to these highly respectable tenants. In this +dwelling Mrs. Garland's and Anne's ears were soothed morning, noon, and +night by the music of the mill, the wheels and cogs of which, being of +wood, produced notes that might have borne in their minds a remote +resemblance to the wooden tones of the stopped diapason in an organ. +Occasionally, when the miller was bolting, there was added to these +continuous sounds the cheerful clicking of the hopper, which did not +deprive them of rest except when it was kept going all night; and over +and above all this they had the pleasure of knowing that there crept in +through every crevice, door, and window of their dwelling, however +tightly closed, a subtle mist of superfine flour from the grinding room, +quite invisible, but making its presence known in the course of time by +giving a pallid and ghostly look to the best furniture. The miller +frequently apologized to his tenants for the intrusion of this insidious +dry fog; but the widow was of a friendly and thankful nature, and she +said that she did not mind it at all, being as it was, not nasty dirt, +but the blessed staff of life. + +By good-humour of this sort, and in other ways, Mrs. Garland acknowledged +her friendship for her neighbour, with whom Anne and herself associated +to an extent which she never could have anticipated when, tempted by the +lowness of the rent, they first removed thither after her husband's death +from a larger house at the other end of the village. Those who have +lived in remote places where there is what is called no society will +comprehend the gradual levelling of distinctions that went on in this +case at some sacrifice of gentility on the part of one household. The +widow was sometimes sorry to find with what readiness Anne caught up some +dialect-word or accent from the miller and his friends; but he was so +good and true-hearted a man, and she so easy-minded, unambitious a woman, +that she would not make life a solitude for fastidious reasons. More +than all, she had good ground for thinking that the miller secretly +admired her, and this added a piquancy to the situation. + +* * * * * + +On a fine summer morning, when the leaves were warm under the sun, and +the more industrious bees abroad, diving into every blue and red cup that +could possibly be considered a flower, Anne was sitting at the back +window of her mother's portion of the house, measuring out lengths of +worsted for a fringed rug that she was making, which lay, about three- +quarters finished, beside her. The work, though chromatically brilliant, +was tedious: a hearth-rug was a thing which nobody worked at from morning +to night; it was taken up and put down; it was in the chair, on the +floor, across the hand-rail, under the bed, kicked here, kicked there, +rolled away in the closet, brought out again, and so on more capriciously +perhaps than any other home-made article. Nobody was expected to finish +a rug within a calculable period, and the wools of the beginning became +faded and historical before the end was reached. A sense of this +inherent nature of worsted-work rather than idleness led Anne to look +rather frequently from the open casement. + +Immediately before her was the large, smooth millpond, over-full, and +intruding into the hedge and into the road. The water, with its flowing +leaves and spots of froth, was stealing away, like Time, under the dark +arch, to tumble over the great slimy wheel within. On the other side of +the mill-pond was an open place called the Cross, because it was three- +quarters of one, two lanes and a cattle-drive meeting there. It was the +general rendezvous and arena of the surrounding village. Behind this a +steep slope rose high into the sky, merging in a wide and open down, now +littered with sheep newly shorn. The upland by its height completely +sheltered the mill and village from north winds, making summers of +springs, reducing winters to autumn temperatures, and permitting myrtle +to flourish in the open air. + +The heaviness of noon pervaded the scene, and under its influence the +sheep had ceased to feed. Nobody was standing at the Cross, the few +inhabitants being indoors at their dinner. No human being was on the +down, and no human eye or interest but Anne's seemed to be concerned with +it. The bees still worked on, and the butterflies did not rest from +roving, their smallness seeming to shield them from the stagnating effect +that this turning moment of day had on larger creatures. Otherwise all +was still. + +The girl glanced at the down and the sheep for no particular reason; the +steep margin of turf and daisies rising above the roofs, chimneys, apple- +trees, and church tower of the hamlet around her, bounded the view from +her position, and it was necessary to look somewhere when she raised her +head. While thus engaged in working and stopping her attention was +attracted by the sudden rising and running away of the sheep squatted on +the down; and there succeeded sounds of a heavy tramping over the hard +sod which the sheep had quitted, the tramp being accompanied by a +metallic jingle. Turning her eyes further she beheld two cavalry +soldiers on bulky grey chargers, armed and accoutred throughout, +ascending the down at a point to the left where the incline was +comparatively easy. The burnished chains, buckles, and plates of their +trappings shone like little looking-glasses, and the blue, red, and white +about them was unsubdued by weather or wear. + +The two troopers rode proudly on, as if nothing less than crowns and +empires ever concerned their magnificent minds. They reached that part +of the down which lay just in front of her, where they came to a halt. In +another minute there appeared behind them a group containing some half- +dozen more of the same sort. These came on, halted, and dismounted +likewise. + +Two of the soldiers then walked some distance onward together, when one +stood still, the other advancing further, and stretching a white line of +tape between them. Two more of the men marched to another outlying +point, where they made marks in the ground. Thus they walked about and +took distances, obviously according to some preconcerted scheme. + +At the end of this systematic proceeding one solitary horseman--a +commissioned officer, if his uniform could be judged rightly at that +distance--rode up the down, went over the ground, looked at what the +others had done, and seemed to think that it was good. And then the girl +heard yet louder tramps and clankings, and she beheld rising from where +the others had risen a whole column of cavalry in marching order. At a +distance behind these came a cloud of dust enveloping more and more +troops, their arms and accoutrements reflecting the sun through the haze +in faint flashes, stars, and streaks of light. The whole body approached +slowly towards the plateau at the top of the down. + +Anne threw down her work, and letting her eyes remain on the nearing +masses of cavalry, the worsteds getting entangled as they would, said, +'Mother, mother; come here! Here's such a fine sight! What does it +mean? What can they be going to do up there?' + +The mother thus invoked ran upstairs and came forward to the window. She +was a woman of sanguine mouth and eye, unheroic manner, and pleasant +general appearance; a little more tarnished as to surface, but not much +worse in contour than the girl herself. + +Widow Garland's thoughts were those of the period. 'Can it be the +French,' she said, arranging herself for the extremest form of +consternation. 'Can that arch-enemy of mankind have landed at last?' It +should be stated that at this time there were two arch-enemies of +mankind--Satan as usual, and Buonaparte, who had sprung up and eclipsed +his elder rival altogether. Mrs. Garland alluded, of course, to the +junior gentleman. + +'It cannot be he,' said Anne. 'Ah! there's Simon Burden, the man who +watches at the beacon. He'll know!' + +She waved her hand to an aged form of the same colour as the road, who +had just appeared beyond the mill-pond, and who, though active, was bowed +to that degree which almost reproaches a feeling observer for standing +upright. The arrival of the soldiery had drawn him out from his drop of +drink at the 'Duke of York' as it had attracted Anne. At her call he +crossed the mill-bridge, and came towards the window. + +Anne inquired of him what it all meant; but Simon Burden, without +answering, continued to move on with parted gums, staring at the cavalry +on his own private account with a concern that people often show about +temporal phenomena when such matters can affect them but a short time +longer. 'You'll walk into the millpond!' said Anne. 'What are they +doing? You were a soldier many years ago, and ought to know.' + +'Don't ask me, Mis'ess Anne,' said the military relic, depositing his +body against the wall one limb at a time. 'I were only in the foot, ye +know, and never had a clear understanding of horses. Ay, I be a old man, +and of no judgment now.' Some additional pressure, however, caused him +to search further in his worm-eaten magazine of ideas, and he found that +he did know in a dim irresponsible way. The soldiers must have come +there to camp: those men they had seen first were the markers: they had +come on before the rest to measure out the ground. He who had +accompanied them was the quartermaster. 'And so you see they have got +all the lines marked out by the time the regiment have come up,' he +added. 'And then they will--well-a-deary! who'd ha' supposed that +Overcombe would see such a day as this!' + +'And then they will--' + +'Then-- Ah, it's gone from me again!' said Simon. 'O, and then they will +raise their tents, you know, and picket their horses. That was it; so it +was.' + +By this time the column of horse had ascended into full view, and they +formed a lively spectacle as they rode along the high ground in marching +order, backed by the pale blue sky, and lit by the southerly sun. Their +uniform was bright and attractive; white buckskin pantaloons, +three-quarter boots, scarlet shakos set off with lace, mustachios waxed +to a needle point; and above all, those richly ornamented blue jackets +mantled with the historic pelisse--that fascination to women, and +encumbrance to the wearers themselves. + +''Tis the York Hussars!' said Simon Burden, brightening like a dying +ember fanned. 'Foreigners to a man, and enrolled long since my time. But +as good hearty comrades, they say, as you'll find in the King's service.' + +'Here are more and different ones,' said Mrs. Garland. + +Other troops had, during the last few minutes, been ascending the down at +a remoter point, and now drew near. These were of different weight and +build from the others; lighter men, in helmet hats, with white plumes. + +'I don't know which I like best,' said Anne. 'These, I think, after +all.' + +Simon, who had been looking hard at the latter, now said that they were +the --th Dragoons. + +'All Englishmen they,' said the old man. 'They lay at Budmouth barracks +a few years ago.' + +'They did. I remember it,' said Mrs. Garland. + +'And lots of the chaps about here 'listed at the time,' said Simon. 'I +can call to mind that there was--ah, 'tis gone from me again! However, +all that's of little account now.' + +The dragoons passed in front of the lookers-on as the others had done, +and their gay plumes, which had hung lazily during the ascent, swung to +northward as they reached the top, showing that on the summit a fresh +breeze blew. 'But look across there,' said Anne. There had entered upon +the down from another direction several battalions of foot, in white +kerseymere breeches and cloth gaiters. They seemed to be weary from a +long march, the original black of their gaiters and boots being whity- +brown with dust. Presently came regimental waggons, and the private +canteen carts which followed at the end of a convoy. + +The space in front of the mill-pond was now occupied by nearly all the +inhabitants of the village, who had turned out in alarm, and remained for +pleasure, their eyes lighted up with interest in what they saw; for +trappings and regimentals, war horses and men, in towns an attraction, +were here almost a sublimity. + +The troops filed to their lines, dismounted, and in quick time took off +their accoutrements, rolled up their sheep-skins, picketed and unbitted +their horses, and made ready to erect the tents as soon as they could be +taken from the waggons and brought forward. When this was done, at a +given signal the canvases flew up from the sod; and thenceforth every man +had a place in which to lay his head. + +Though nobody seemed to be looking on but the few at the window and in +the village street, there were, as a matter of fact, many eyes converging +upon that military arrival in its high and conspicuous position, not to +mention the glances of birds and other wild creatures. Men in distant +gardens, women in orchards and at cottage-doors, shepherds on remote +hills, turnip-hoers in blue-green enclosures miles away, captains with +spy-glasses out at sea, were regarding the picture keenly. Those three +or four thousand men of one machine-like movement, some of them +swashbucklers by nature; others, doubtless, of a quiet shop-keeping +disposition who had inadvertently got into uniform--all of them had +arrived from nobody knew where, and hence were matter of great curiosity. +They seemed to the mere eye to belong to a different order of beings from +those who inhabited the valleys below. Apparently unconscious and +careless of what all the world was doing elsewhere, they remained +picturesquely engrossed in the business of making themselves a habitation +on the isolated spot which they had chosen. + +Mrs. Garland was of a festive and sanguine turn of mind, a woman soon set +up and soon set down, and the coming of the regiments quite excited her. +She thought there was reason for putting on her best cap, thought that +perhaps there was not; that she would hurry on the dinner and go out in +the afternoon; then that she would, after all, do nothing unusual, nor +show any silly excitements whatever, since they were unbecoming in a +mother and a widow. Thus circumscribing her intentions till she was +toned down to an ordinary person of forty, Mrs. Garland accompanied her +daughter downstairs to dine, saying, 'Presently we will call on Miller +Loveday, and hear what he thinks of it all.' + + + + +II. SOMEBODY KNOCKS AND COMES IN + + +Miller Loveday was the representative of an ancient family of +corn-grinders whose history is lost in the mists of antiquity. His +ancestral line was contemporaneous with that of De Ros, Howard, and De La +Zouche; but, owing to some trifling deficiency in the possessions of the +house of Loveday, the individual names and intermarriages of its members +were not recorded during the Middle Ages, and thus their private lives in +any given century were uncertain. But it was known that the family had +formed matrimonial alliances with farmers not so very small, and once +with a gentleman-tanner, who had for many years purchased after their +death the horses of the most aristocratic persons in the county--fiery +steeds that earlier in their career had been valued at many hundred +guineas. + +It was also ascertained that Mr. Loveday's great-grandparents had been +eight in number, and his great-great-grandparents sixteen, every one of +whom reached to years of discretion: at every stage backwards his sires +and gammers thus doubled and doubled till they became a vast body of +Gothic ladies and gentlemen of the rank known as ceorls or villeins, full +of importance to the country at large, and ramifying throughout the +unwritten history of England. His immediate father had greatly improved +the value of their residence by building a new chimney, and setting up an +additional pair of millstones. + +Overcombe Mill presented at one end the appearance of a hard-worked house +slipping into the river, and at the other of an idle, genteel place, half- +cloaked with creepers at this time of the year, and having no visible +connexion with flour. It had hips instead of gables, giving it a round- +shouldered look, four chimneys with no smoke coming out of them, two +zigzag cracks in the wall, several open windows, with a looking-glass +here and there inside, showing its warped back to the passer-by; snowy +dimity curtains waving in the draught; two mill doors, one above the +other, the upper enabling a person to step out upon nothing at a height +of ten feet from the ground; a gaping arch vomiting the river, and a +lean, long-nosed fellow looking out from the mill doorway, who was the +hired grinder, except when a bulging fifteen stone man occupied the same +place, namely, the miller himself. + +Behind the mill door, and invisible to the mere wayfarer who did not +visit the family, were chalked addition and subtraction sums, many of +them originally done wrong, and the figures half rubbed out and +corrected, noughts being turned into nines, and ones into twos. These +were the miller's private calculations. There were also chalked in the +same place rows and rows of strokes like open palings, representing the +calculations of the grinder, who in his youthful ciphering studies had +not gone so far as Arabic figures. + +In the court in front were two worn-out millstones, made useful again by +being let in level with the ground. Here people stood to smoke and +consider things in muddy weather; and cats slept on the clean surfaces +when it was hot. In the large stubbard-tree at the corner of the garden +was erected a pole of larch fir, which the miller had bought with others +at a sale of small timber in Damer's Wood one Christmas week. It rose +from the upper boughs of the tree to about the height of a fisherman's +mast, and on the top was a vane in the form of a sailor with his arm +stretched out. When the sun shone upon this figure it could be seen that +the greater part of his countenance was gone, and the paint washed from +his body so far as to reveal that he had been a soldier in red before he +became a sailor in blue. The image had, in fact, been John, one of our +coming characters, and was then turned into Robert, another of them. This +revolving piece of statuary could not, however, be relied on as a vane, +owing to the neighbouring hill, which formed variable currents in the +wind. + +The leafy and quieter wing of the mill-house was the part occupied by +Mrs. Garland and her daughter, who made up in summer-time for the +narrowness of their quarters by overflowing into the garden on stools and +chairs. The parlour or dining-room had a stone floor--a fact which the +widow sought to disguise by double carpeting, lest the standing of Anne +and herself should be lowered in the public eye. Here now the mid-day +meal went lightly and mincingly on, as it does where there is no greedy +carnivorous man to keep the dishes about, and was hanging on the close +when somebody entered the passage as far as the chink of the parlour +door, and tapped. This proceeding was probably adopted to kindly avoid +giving trouble to Susan, the neighbour's pink daughter, who helped at +Mrs. Garland's in the mornings, but was at that moment particularly +occupied in standing on the water-butt and gazing at the soldiers, with +an inhaling position of the mouth and circular eyes. + +There was a flutter in the little dining-room--the sensitiveness of +habitual solitude makes hearts beat for preternaturally small reasons--and +a guessing as to who the visitor might be. It was some military +gentleman from the camp perhaps? No; that was impossible. It was the +parson? No; he would not come at dinner-time. It was the well-informed +man who travelled with drapery and the best Birmingham earrings? Not at +all; his time was not till Thursday at three. Before they could think +further the visitor moved forward another step, and the diners got a +glimpse of him through the same friendly chink that had afforded him a +view of the Garland dinner-table. + +'O! It is only Loveday.' + +This approximation to nobody was the miller above mentioned, a hale man +of fifty-five or sixty--hale all through, as many were in those days, and +not merely veneered with purple by exhilarating victuals and drinks, +though the latter were not at all despised by him. His face was indeed +rather pale than otherwise, for he had just come from the mill. It was +capable of immense changes of expression: mobility was its essence, a +roll of flesh forming a buttress to his nose on each side, and a deep +ravine lying between his lower lip and the tumulus represented by his +chin. These fleshy lumps moved stealthily, as if of their own accord, +whenever his fancy was tickled. + +His eyes having lighted on the table-cloth, plates, and viands, he found +himself in a position which had a sensible awkwardness for a modest man +who always liked to enter only at seasonable times the presence of a girl +of such pleasantly soft ways as Anne Garland, she who could make apples +seem like peaches, and throw over her shillings the glamour of guineas +when she paid him for flour. + +'Dinner is over, neighbour Loveday; please come in,' said the widow, +seeing his case. The miller said something about coming in presently; +but Anne pressed him to stay, with a tender motion of her lip as it +played on the verge of a solicitous smile without quite lapsing into +one--her habitual manner when speaking. + +Loveday took off his low-crowned hat and advanced. He had not come about +pigs or fowls this time. 'You have been looking out, like the rest o' +us, no doubt, Mrs. Garland, at the mampus of soldiers that have come upon +the down? Well, one of the horse regiments is the --th Dragoons, my son +John's regiment, you know.' + +The announcement, though it interested them, did not create such an +effect as the father of John had seemed to anticipate; but Anne, who +liked to say pleasant things, replied, 'The dragoons looked nicer than +the foot, or the German cavalry either.' + +'They are a handsome body of men,' said the miller in a disinterested +voice. 'Faith! I didn't know they were coming, though it may be in the +newspaper all the time. But old Derriman keeps it so long that we never +know things till they be in everybody's mouth.' + +This Derriman was a squireen living near, who was chiefly distinguished +in the present warlike time by having a nephew in the yeomanry. + +'We were told that the yeomanry went along the turnpike road yesterday,' +said Anne; 'and they say that they were a pretty sight, and quite +soldierly.' + +'Ah! well--they be not regulars,' said Miller Loveday, keeping back +harsher criticism as uncalled for. But inflamed by the arrival of the +dragoons, which had been the exciting cause of his call, his mind would +not go to yeomanry. 'John has not been home these five years,' he said. + +'And what rank does he hold now?' said the widow. + +'He's trumpet-major, ma'am; and a good musician.' The miller, who was a +good father, went on to explain that John had seen some service, too. He +had enlisted when the regiment was lying in this neighbourhood, more than +eleven years before, which put his father out of temper with him, as he +had wished him to follow on at the mill. But as the lad had enlisted +seriously, and as he had often said that he would be a soldier, the +miller had thought that he would let Jack take his chance in the +profession of his choice. + +Loveday had two sons, and the second was now brought into the +conversation by a remark of Anne's that neither of them seemed to care +for the miller's business. + +'No,' said Loveday in a less buoyant tone. 'Robert, you see, must needs +go to sea.' + +'He is much younger than his brother?' said Mrs. Garland. + +About four years, the miller told her. His soldier son was +two-and-thirty, and Bob was twenty-eight. When Bob returned from his +present voyage, he was to be persuaded to stay and assist as grinder in +the mill, and go to sea no more. + +'A sailor-miller!' said Anne. + +'O, he knows as much about mill business as I do,' said Loveday; 'he was +intended for it, you know, like John. But, bless me!' he continued, 'I +am before my story. I'm come more particularly to ask you, ma'am, and +you, Anne my honey, if you will join me and a few friends at a leetle +homely supper that I shall gi'e to please the chap now he's come? I can +do no less than have a bit of a randy, as the saying is, now that he's +here safe and sound.' + +Mrs. Garland wanted to catch her daughter's eye; she was in some doubt +about her answer. But Anne's eye was not to be caught, for she hated +hints, nods, and calculations of any kind in matters which should be +regulated by impulse; and the matron replied, 'If so be 'tis possible, +we'll be there. You will tell us the day?' + +He would, as soon as he had seen son John. ''Twill be rather untidy, you +know, owing to my having no womenfolks in the house; and my man David is +a poor dunder-headed feller for getting up a feast. Poor chap! his sight +is bad, that's true, and he's very good at making the beds, and oiling +the legs of the chairs and other furniture, or I should have got rid of +him years ago.' + +'You should have a woman to attend to the house, Loveday,' said the +widow. + +'Yes, I should, but--. Well, 'tis a fine day, neighbours. Hark! I +fancy I hear the noise of pots and pans up at the camp, or my ears +deceive me. Poor fellows, they must be hungry! Good day t'ye, ma'am.' +And the miller went away. + +All that afternoon Overcombe continued in a ferment of interest in the +military investment, which brought the excitement of an invasion without +the strife. There were great discussions on the merits and appearance of +the soldiery. The event opened up, to the girls unbounded possibilities +of adoring and being adored, and to the young men an embarrassment of +dashing acquaintances which quite superseded falling in love. Thirteen +of these lads incontinently stated within the space of a quarter of an +hour that there was nothing in the world like going for a soldier. The +young women stated little, but perhaps thought the more; though, in +justice, they glanced round towards the encampment from the corners of +their blue and brown eyes in the most demure and modest manner that could +be desired. + +In the evening the village was lively with soldiers' wives; a tree full +of starlings would not have rivalled the chatter that was going on. These +ladies were very brilliantly dressed, with more regard for colour than +for material. Purple, red, and blue bonnets were numerous, with bunches +of cocks' feathers; and one had on an Arcadian hat of green sarcenet, +turned up in front to show her cap underneath. It had once belonged to +an officer's lady, and was not so much stained, except where the +occasional storms of rain, incidental to a military life, had caused the +green to run and stagnate in curious watermarks like peninsulas and +islands. Some of the prettiest of these butterfly wives had been +fortunate enough to get lodgings in the cottages, and were thus spared +the necessity of living in huts and tents on the down. Those who had not +been so fortunate were not rendered more amiable by the success of their +sisters-in-arms, and called them names which brought forth retorts and +rejoinders; till the end of these alternative remarks seemed dependent +upon the close of the day. + +One of these new arrivals, who had a rosy nose and a slight thickness of +voice, which, as Anne said, she couldn't help, poor thing, seemed to have +seen so much of the world, and to have been in so many campaigns, that +Anne would have liked to take her into their own house, so as to acquire +some of that practical knowledge of the history of England which the lady +possessed, and which could not be got from books. But the narrowness of +Mrs. Garland's rooms absolutely forbade this, and the houseless treasury +of experience was obliged to look for quarters elsewhere. + +That night Anne retired early to bed. The events of the day, cheerful as +they were in themselves, had been unusual enough to give her a slight +headache. Before getting into bed she went to the window, and lifted the +white curtains that hung across it. The moon was shining, though not as +yet into the valley, but just peeping above the ridge of the down, where +the white cones of the encampment were softly touched by its light. The +quarter-guard and foremost tents showed themselves prominently; but the +body of the camp, the officers' tents, kitchens, canteen, and +appurtenances in the rear were blotted out by the ground, because of its +height above her. She could discern the forms of one or two sentries +moving to and fro across the disc of the moon at intervals. She could +hear the frequent shuffling and tossing of the horses tied to the +pickets; and in the other direction the miles-long voice of the sea, +whispering a louder note at those points of its length where hampered in +its ebb and flow by some jutting promontory or group of boulders. Louder +sounds suddenly broke this approach to silence; they came from the camp +of dragoons, were taken up further to the right by the camp of the +Hanoverians, and further on still by the body of infantry. It was +tattoo. Feeling no desire to sleep, she listened yet longer, looked at +Charles's Wain swinging over the church tower, and the moon ascending +higher and higher over the right-hand streets of tents, where, instead of +parade and bustle, there was nothing going on but snores and dreams, the +tired soldiers lying by this time under their proper canvases, radiating +like spokes from the pole of each tent. + +At last Anne gave up thinking, and retired like the rest. The night wore +on, and, except the occasional 'All's well' of the sentries, no voice was +heard in the camp or in the village below. + + + + +III. THE MILL BECOMES AN IMPORTANT CENTRE OF OPERATIONS + + +The next morning Miss Garland awoke with an impression that something +more than usual was going on, and she recognized as soon as she could +clearly reason that the proceedings, whatever they might be, lay not far +away from her bedroom window. The sounds were chiefly those of pickaxes +and shovels. Anne got up, and, lifting the corner of the curtain about +an inch, peeped out. + +A number of soldiers were busily engaged in making a zigzag path down the +incline from the camp to the river-head at the back of the house, and +judging from the quantity of work already got through they must have +begun very early. Squads of men were working at several equidistant +points in the proposed pathway, and by the time that Anne had dressed +herself each section of the length had been connected with those above +and below it, so that a continuous and easy track was formed from the +crest of the down to the bottom of the steep. + +The down rested on a bed of solid chalk, and the surface exposed by the +roadmakers formed a white ribbon, serpenting from top to bottom. + +Then the relays of working soldiers all disappeared, and, not long after, +a troop of dragoons in watering order rode forward at the top and began +to wind down the new path. They came lower and closer, and at last were +immediately beneath her window, gathering themselves up on the space by +the mill-pond. A number of the horses entered it at the shallow part, +drinking and splashing and tossing about. Perhaps as many as thirty, +half of them with riders on their backs, were in the water at one time; +the thirsty animals drank, stamped, flounced, and drank again, letting +the clear, cool water dribble luxuriously from their mouths. Miller +Loveday was looking on from over his garden hedge, and many admiring +villagers were gathered around. + +Gazing up higher, Anne saw other troops descending by the new road from +the camp, those which had already been to the pond making room for these +by withdrawing along the village lane and returning to the top by a +circuitous route. + +Suddenly the miller exclaimed, as in fulfilment of expectation, 'Ah, +John, my boy; good morning!' And the reply of 'Morning, father,' came +from a well-mounted soldier near him, who did not, however, form one of +the watering party. Anne could not see his face very clearly, but she +had no doubt that this was John Loveday. + +There were tones in the voice which reminded her of old times, those of +her very infancy, when Johnny Loveday had been top boy in the village +school, and had wanted to learn painting of her father. The deeps and +shallows of the mill-pond being better known to him than to any other man +in the camp, he had apparently come down on that account, and was +cautioning some of the horsemen against riding too far in towards the +mill-head. + +Since her childhood and his enlistment Anne had seen him only once, and +then but casually, when he was home on a short furlough. His figure was +not much changed from what it had been; but the many sunrises and sunsets +which had passed since that day, developing her from a comparative child +to womanhood, had abstracted some of his angularities, reddened his skin, +and given him a foreign look. It was interesting to see what years of +training and service had done for this man. Few would have supposed that +the white and the blue coats of miller and soldier covered the forms of +father and son. + +Before the last troop of dragoons rode off they were welcomed in a body +by Miller Loveday, who still stood in his outer garden, this being a plot +lying below the mill-tail, and stretching to the water-side. It was just +the time of year when cherries are ripe, and hang in clusters under their +dark leaves. While the troopers loitered on their horses, and chatted to +the miller across the stream, he gathered bunches of the fruit, and held +them up over the garden hedge for the acceptance of anybody who would +have them; whereupon the soldiers rode into the water to where it had +washed holes in the garden bank, and, reining their horses there, caught +the cherries in their forage-caps, or received bunches of them on the +ends of their switches, with the dignified laugh that became martial men +when stooping to slightly boyish amusement. It was a cheerful, careless, +unpremeditated half-hour, which returned like the scent of a flower to +the memories of some of those who enjoyed it, even at a distance of many +years after, when they lay wounded and weak in foreign lands. + +Then dragoons and horses wheeled off as the others had done; and troops +of the German Legion next came down and entered in panoramic procession +the space below Anne's eyes, as if on purpose to gratify her. These were +notable by their mustachios, and queues wound tightly with brown ribbon +to the level of their broad shoulder-blades. They were charmed, as the +others had been, by the head and neck of Miss Garland in the little +square window overlooking the scene of operations, and saluted her with +devoted foreign civility, and in such overwhelming numbers that the +modest girl suddenly withdrew herself into the room, and had a private +blush between the chest of drawers and the washing-stand. + +When she came downstairs her mother said, 'I have been thinking what I +ought to wear to Miller Loveday's to-night.' + +'To Miller Loveday's?' said Anne. + +'Yes. The party is to-night. He has been in here this morning to tell +me that he has seen his son, and they have fixed this evening.' + +'Do you think we ought to go, mother?' said Anne slowly, and looking at +the smaller features of the window-flowers. + +'Why not?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'He will only have men there except ourselves, will he? And shall we be +right to go alone among 'em?' + +Anne had not recovered from the ardent gaze of the gallant York Hussars, +whose voices reached her even now in converse with Loveday. + +'La, Anne, how proud you are!' said Widow Garland. 'Why, isn't he our +nearest neighbour and our landlord? and don't he always fetch our faggots +from the wood, and keep us in vegetables for next to nothing?' + +'That's true,' said Anne. + +'Well, we can't be distant with the man. And if the enemy land next +autumn, as everybody says they will, we shall have quite to depend upon +the miller's waggon and horses. He's our only friend.' + +'Yes, so he is,' said Anne. 'And you had better go, mother; and I'll +stay at home. They will be all men; and I don't like going.' + +Mrs. Garland reflected. 'Well, if you don't want to go, I don't,' she +said. 'Perhaps, as you are growing up, it would be better to stay at +home this time. Your father was a professional man, certainly.' Having +spoken as a mother, she sighed as a woman. + +'Why do you sigh, mother?' + +'You are so prim and stiff about everything.' + +'Very well--we'll go.' + +'O no--I am not sure that we ought. I did not promise, and there will be +no trouble in keeping away.' + +Anne apparently did not feel certain of her own opinion, and, instead of +supporting or contradicting, looked thoughtfully down, and abstractedly +brought her hands together on her bosom, till her fingers met tip to tip. + +As the day advanced the young woman and her mother became aware that +great preparations were in progress in the miller's wing of the house. +The partitioning between the Lovedays and the Garlands was not very +thorough, consisting in many cases of a simple screwing up of the doors +in the dividing walls; and thus when the mill began any new performances +they proclaimed themselves at once in the more private dwelling. The +smell of Miller Loveday's pipe came down Mrs. Garland's chimney of an +evening with the greatest regularity. Every time that he poked his fire +they knew from the vehemence or deliberateness of the blows the precise +state of his mind; and when he wound his clock on Sunday nights the whirr +of that monitor reminded the widow to wind hers. This transit of noises +was most perfect where Loveday's lobby adjoined Mrs. Garland's pantry; +and Anne, who was occupied for some time in the latter apartment, enjoyed +the privilege of hearing the visitors arrive and of catching stray sounds +and words without the connecting phrases that made them entertaining, to +judge from the laughter they evoked. The arrivals passed through the +house and went into the garden, where they had tea in a large +summer-house, an occasional blink of bright colour, through the foliage, +being all that was visible of the assembly from Mrs. Garland's windows. +When it grew dusk they all could be heard coming indoors to finish the +evening in the parlour. + +Then there was an intensified continuation of the above-mentioned signs +of enjoyment, talkings and haw-haws, runnings upstairs and runnings down, +a slamming of doors and a clinking of cups and glasses; till the proudest +adjoining tenant without friends on his own side of the partition might +have been tempted to wish for entrance to that merry dwelling, if only to +know the cause of these fluctuations of hilarity, and to see if the +guests were really so numerous, and the observations so very amusing as +they seemed. + +The stagnation of life on the Garland side of the party-wall began to +have a very gloomy effect by the contrast. When, about half-past nine +o'clock, one of these tantalizing bursts of gaiety had resounded for a +longer time than usual, Anne said, 'I believe, mother, that you are +wishing you had gone.' + +'I own to feeling that it would have been very cheerful if we had joined +in,' said Mrs. Garland, in a hankering tone. 'I was rather too nice in +listening to you and not going. The parson never calls upon us except in +his spiritual capacity. Old Derriman is hardly genteel; and there's +nobody left to speak to. Lonely people must accept what company they can +get.' + +'Or do without it altogether.' + +'That's not natural, Anne; and I am surprised to hear a young woman like +you say such a thing. Nature will not be stifled in that way. . . .' +(Song and powerful chorus heard through partition.) 'I declare the room +on the other side of the wall seems quite a paradise compared with this.' + +'Mother, you are quite a girl,' said Anne in slightly superior accents. +'Go in and join them by all means.' + +'O no--not now,' said her mother, resignedly shaking her head. 'It is +too late now. We ought to have taken advantage of the invitation. They +would look hard at me as a poor mortal who had no real business there, +and the miller would say, with his broad smile, "Ah, you be obliged to +come round."' + +While the sociable and unaspiring Mrs. Garland continued thus to pass the +evening in two places, her body in her own house and her mind in the +miller's, somebody knocked at the door, and directly after the elder +Loveday himself was admitted to the room. He was dressed in a suit +between grand and gay, which he used for such occasions as the present, +and his blue coat, yellow and red waistcoat with the three lower buttons +unfastened, steel-buckled shoes and speckled stockings, became him very +well in Mrs. Martha Garland's eyes. + +'Your servant, ma'am,' said the miller, adopting as a matter of propriety +the raised standard of politeness required by his higher costume. 'Now, +begging your pardon, I can't hae this. 'Tis unnatural that you two +ladies should be biding here and we under the same roof making merry +without ye. Your husband, poor man--lovely picters that a' would make to +be sure--would have been in with us long ago if he had been in your +place. I can take no nay from ye, upon my honour. You and maidy Anne +must come in, if it be only for half-an-hour. John and his friends have +got passes till twelve o'clock to-night, and, saving a few of our own +village folk, the lowest visitor present is a very genteel German +corporal. If you should hae any misgivings on the score of +respectability, ma'am, we'll pack off the underbred ones into the back +kitchen.' + +Widow Garland and Anne looked yes at each other after this appeal. + +'We'll follow you in a few minutes,' said the elder, smiling; and she +rose with Anne to go upstairs. + +'No, I'll wait for ye,' said the miller doggedly; 'or perhaps you'll +alter your mind again.' + +While the mother and daughter were upstairs dressing, and saying +laughingly to each other, 'Well, we must go now,' as if they hadn't +wished to go all the evening, other steps were heard in the passage; and +the miller cried from below, 'Your pardon, Mrs. Garland; but my son John +has come to help fetch ye. Shall I ask him in till ye be ready?' + +'Certainly; I shall be down in a minute,' screamed Anne's mother in a +slanting voice towards the staircase. + +When she descended, the outline of the trumpet-major appeared half-way +down the passage. 'This is John,' said the miller simply. 'John, you +can mind Mrs. Martha Garland very well?' + +'Very well, indeed,' said the dragoon, coming in a little further. 'I +should have called to see her last time, but I was only home a week. How +is your little girl, ma'am?' + +Mrs. Garland said Anne was quite well. 'She is grown-up now. She will +be down in a moment.' + +There was a slight noise of military heels without the door, at which the +trumpet-major went and put his head outside, and said, 'All right--coming +in a minute,' when voices in the darkness replied, 'No hurry.' + +'More friends?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'O, it is only Buck and Jones come to fetch me,' said the soldier. 'Shall +I ask 'em in a minute, Mrs Garland, ma'am?' + +'O yes,' said the lady; and the two interesting forms of Trumpeter Buck +and Saddler-sergeant Jones then came forward in the most friendly manner; +whereupon other steps were heard without, and it was discovered that +Sergeant-master-tailor Brett and Farrier-extraordinary Johnson were +outside, having come to fetch Messrs. Buck and Jones, as Buck and Jones +had come to fetch the trumpet-major. + +As there seemed a possibility of Mrs. Garland's small passage being +choked up with human figures personally unknown to her, she was relieved +to hear Anne coming downstairs. + +'Here's my little girl,' said Mrs. Garland, and the trumpet-major looked +with a sort of awe upon the muslin apparition who came forward, and stood +quite dumb before her. Anne recognized him as the trooper she had seen +from her window, and welcomed him kindly. There was something in his +honest face which made her feel instantly at home with him. + +At this frankness of manner Loveday--who was not a ladies' man--blushed, +and made some alteration in his bodily posture, began a sentence which +had no end, and showed quite a boy's embarrassment. Recovering himself, +he politely offered his arm, which Anne took with a very pretty grace. He +conducted her through his comrades, who glued themselves perpendicularly +to the wall to let her pass, and then they went out of the door, her +mother following with the miller, and supported by the body of troopers, +the latter walking with the usual cavalry gait, as if their thighs were +rather too long for them. Thus they crossed the threshold of the mill- +house and up the passage, the paving of which was worn into a gutter by +the ebb and flow of feet that had been going on there ever since Tudor +times. + + + + +IV. WHO WERE PRESENT AT THE MILLER'S LITTLE ENTERTAINMENT + + +When the group entered the presence of the company a lull in the +conversation was caused by the sight of new visitors, and (of course) by +the charm of Anne's appearance; until the old men, who had daughters of +their own, perceiving that she was only a half-formed girl, resumed their +tales and toss-potting with unconcern. + +Miller Loveday had fraternized with half the soldiers in the camp since +their arrival, and the effect of this upon his party was striking--both +chromatically and otherwise. Those among the guests who first attracted +the eye were the sergeants and sergeant-majors of Loveday's regiment, +fine hearty men, who sat facing the candles, entirely resigned to +physical comfort. Then there were other non-commissioned officers, a +German, two Hungarians, and a Swede, from the foreign hussars--young men +with a look of sadness on their faces, as if they did not much like +serving so far from home. All of them spoke English fairly well. Old +age was represented by Simon Burden the pensioner, and the shady side of +fifty by Corporal Tullidge, his friend and neighbour, who was hard of +hearing, and sat with his hat on over a red cotton handkerchief that was +wound several times round his head. These two veterans were employed as +watchers at the neighbouring beacon, which had lately been erected by the +Lord-Lieutenant for firing whenever the descent on the coast should be +made. They lived in a little hut on the hill, close by the heap of +faggots; but to-night they had found deputies to watch in their stead. + +On a lower plane of experience and qualifications came neighbour James +Comfort, of the Volunteers, a soldier by courtesy, but a blacksmith by +rights; also William Tremlett and Anthony Cripplestraw, of the local +forces. The two latter men of war were dressed merely as villagers, and +looked upon the regulars from a humble position in the background. The +remainder of the party was made up of a neighbouring dairyman or two, and +their wives, invited by the miller, as Anne was glad to see, that she and +her mother should not be the only women there. + +The elder Loveday apologized in a whisper to Mrs. Garland for the +presence of the inferior villagers. 'But as they are learning to be +brave defenders of their home and country, ma'am, as fast as they can +master the drill, and have worked for me off and on these many years, +I've asked 'em in, and thought you'd excuse it.' + +'Certainly, Miller Loveday,' said the widow. + +'And the same of old Burden and Tullidge. They have served well and long +in the Foot, and even now have a hard time of it up at the beacon in wet +weather. So after giving them a meal in the kitchen I just asked 'em in +to hear the singing. They faithfully promise that as soon as ever the +gunboats appear in view, and they have fired the beacon, to run down here +first, in case we shouldn't see it. 'Tis worth while to be friendly with +'em, you see, though their tempers be queer.' + +'Quite worth while, miller,' said she. + +Anne was rather embarrassed by the presence of the regular military in +such force, and at first confined her words to the dairymen's wives she +was acquainted with, and to the two old soldiers of the parish. + +'Why didn't ye speak to me afore, chiel?' said one of these, Corporal +Tullidge, the elderly man with the hat, while she was talking to old +Simon Burden. 'I met ye in the lane yesterday,' he added reproachfully, +'but ye didn't notice me at all.' + +'I am very sorry for it,' she said; but, being afraid to shout in such a +company, the effect of her remark upon the corporal was as if she had not +spoken at all. + +'You was coming along with yer head full of some high notions or other no +doubt,' continued the uncompromising corporal in the same loud voice. +'Ah, 'tis the young bucks that get all the notice nowadays, and old folks +are quite forgot! I can mind well enough how young Bob Loveday used to +lie in wait for ye.' + +Anne blushed deeply, and stopped his too excursive discourse by hastily +saying that she always respected old folks like him. The corporal +thought she inquired why he always kept his hat on, and answered that it +was because his head was injured at Valenciennes, in July, Ninety-three. +'We were trying to bomb down the tower, and a piece of the shell struck +me. I was no more nor less than a dead man for two days. If it hadn't a +been for that and my smashed arm I should have come home none the worse +for my five-and-twenty years' service.' + +'You have got a silver plate let into yer head, haven't ye, corpel?' said +Anthony Cripplestraw, who had drawn near. 'I have heard that the way +they morticed yer skull was a beautiful piece of workmanship. Perhaps +the young woman would like to see the place? 'Tis a curious sight, +Mis'ess Anne; you don't see such a wownd every day.' + +'No, thank you,' said Anne hurriedly, dreading, as did all the young +people of Overcombe, the spectacle of the corporal uncovered. He had +never been seen in public without the hat and the handkerchief since his +return in Ninety-four; and strange stories were told of the ghastliness +of his appearance bare-headed, a little boy who had accidentally beheld +him going to bed in that state having been frightened into fits. + +'Well, if the young woman don't want to see yer head, maybe she'd like to +hear yer arm?' continued Cripplestraw, earnest to please her. + +'Hey?' said the corporal. + +'Your arm hurt too?' cried Anne. + +'Knocked to a pummy at the same time as my head,' said Tullidge +dispassionately. + +'Rattle yer arm, corpel, and show her,' said Cripplestraw. + +'Yes, sure,' said the corporal, raising the limb slowly, as if the glory +of exhibition had lost some of its novelty, though he was willing to +oblige. Twisting it mercilessly about with his right hand he produced a +crunching among the bones at every motion, Cripplestraw seeming to derive +great satisfaction from the ghastly sound. + +'How very shocking!' said Anne, painfully anxious for him to leave off. + +'O, it don't hurt him, bless ye. Do it, corpel?' said Cripplestraw. + +'Not a bit,' said the corporal, still working his arm with great energy. + +'There's no life in the bones at all. No life in 'em, I tell her, +corpel!' + +'None at all.' + +'They be as loose as a bag of ninepins,' explained Cripplestraw in +continuation. 'You can feel 'em quite plain, Mis'ess Anne. If ye would +like to, he'll undo his sleeve in a minute to oblege ye?' + +'O no, no, please not! I quite understand,' said the young woman. + +'Do she want to hear or see any more, or don't she?' the corporal +inquired, with a sense that his time was getting wasted. + +Anne explained that she did not on any account; and managed to escape +from the corner. + + + + +V. THE SONG AND THE STRANGER + + +The trumpet-major now contrived to place himself near her, Anne's +presence having evidently been a great pleasure to him since the moment +of his first seeing her. She was quite at her ease with him, and asked +him if he thought that Buonaparte would really come during the summer, +and many other questions which the gallant dragoon could not answer, but +which he nevertheless liked to be asked. William Tremlett, who had not +enjoyed a sound night's rest since the First Consul's menace had become +known, pricked up his ears at sound of this subject, and inquired if +anybody had seen the terrible flat-bottomed boats that the enemy were to +cross in. + +'My brother Robert saw several of them paddling about the shore the last +time he passed the Straits of Dover,' said the trumpet-major; and he +further startled the company by informing them that there were supposed +to be more than fifteen hundred of these boats, and that they would carry +a hundred men apiece. So that a descent of one hundred and fifty +thousand men might be expected any day as soon as Boney had brought his +plans to bear. + +'Lord ha' mercy upon us!' said William Tremlett. + +'The night-time is when they will try it, if they try it at all,' said +old Tullidge, in the tone of one whose watch at the beacon must, in the +nature of things, have given him comprehensive views of the situation. +'It is my belief that the point they will choose for making the shore is +just over there,' and he nodded with indifference towards a section of +the coast at a hideous nearness to the house in which they were +assembled, whereupon Fencible Tremlett, and Cripplestraw of the Locals, +tried to show no signs of trepidation. + +'When d'ye think 'twill be?' said Volunteer Comfort, the blacksmith. + +'I can't answer to a day,' said the corporal, 'but it will certainly be +in a down-channel tide; and instead of pulling hard against it, he'll let +his boats drift, and that will bring 'em right into Budmouth Bay. 'Twill +be a beautiful stroke of war, if so be 'tis quietly done!' + +'Beautiful,' said Cripplestraw, moving inside his clothes. 'But how if +we should be all abed, corpel? You can't expect a man to be brave in his +shirt, especially we Locals, that have only got so far as shoulder fire- +locks.' + +'He's not coming this summer. He'll never come at all,' said a tall +sergeant-major decisively. + +Loveday the soldier was too much engaged in attending upon Anne and her +mother to join in these surmises, bestirring himself to get the ladies +some of the best liquor the house afforded, which had, as a matter of +fact, crossed the Channel as privately as Buonaparte wished his army to +do, and had been landed on a dark night over the cliff. After this he +asked Anne to sing, but though she had a very pretty voice in private +performances of that nature, she declined to oblige him; turning the +subject by making a hesitating inquiry about his brother Robert, whom he +had mentioned just before. + +'Robert is as well as ever, thank you, Miss Garland,' he said. 'He is +now mate of the brig Pewit--rather young for such a command; but the +owner puts great trust in him.' The trumpet-major added, deepening his +thoughts to a profounder view of the person discussed, 'Bob is in love.' + +Anne looked conscious, and listened attentively; but Loveday did not go +on. + +'Much?' she asked. + +'I can't exactly say. And the strange part of it is that he never tells +us who the woman is. Nobody knows at all.' + +'He will tell, of course?' said Anne, in the remote tone of a person with +whose sex such matters had no connexion whatever. + +Loveday shook his head, and the tete-a-tete was put an end to by a burst +of singing from one of the sergeants, who was followed at the end of his +song by others, each giving a ditty in his turn; the singer standing up +in front of the table, stretching his chin well into the air, as though +to abstract every possible wrinkle from his throat, and then plunging +into the melody. When this was over one of the foreign hussars--the +genteel German of Miller Loveday's description, who called himself a +Hungarian, and in reality belonged to no definite country--performed at +Trumpet-major Loveday's request the series of wild motions that he +denominated his national dance, that Anne might see what it was like. +Miss Garland was the flower of the whole company; the soldiers one and +all, foreign and English, seemed to be quite charmed by her presence, as +indeed they well might be, considering how seldom they came into the +society of such as she. + +Anne and her mother were just thinking of retiring to their own dwelling +when Sergeant Stanner of the --th Foot, who was recruiting at Budmouth, +began a satirical song:-- + + When law'-yers strive' to heal' a breach', + And par-sons prac'-tise what' they preach'; + Then lit'-tle Bo-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + + Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + + When jus'-ti-ces' hold e'qual scales', + And rogues' are on'-ly found' in jails'; + Then lit'tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + + Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + + When rich' men find' their wealth' a curse', + And fill' there-with' the poor' man's purse'; + Then lit'-tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + + Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +Poor Stanner! In spite of his satire, he fell at the bloody battle of +Albuera a few years after this pleasantly spent summer at the Georgian +watering-place, being mortally wounded and trampled down by a French +hussar when the brigade was deploying into line under Beresford. + +While Miller Loveday was saying 'Well done, Mr. Stanner!' at the close of +the thirteenth stanza, which seemed to be the last, and Mr. Stanner was +modestly expressing his regret that he could do no better, a stentorian +voice was heard outside the window shutter repeating, + + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +The company was silent in a moment at this reinforcement, and only the +military tried not to look surprised. While all wondered who the singer +could be somebody entered the porch; the door opened, and in came a young +man, about the size and weight of the Farnese Hercules, in the uniform of +the yeomanry cavalry. + +''Tis young Squire Derriman, old Mr. Derriman's nephew,' murmured voices +in the background. + +Without waiting to address anybody, or apparently seeing who were +gathered there, the colossal man waved his cap above his head and went on +in tones that shook the window-panes:-- + + When hus'-bands with' their wives' agree'. + And maids' won't wed' from mod'-es-ty', + Then lit'-tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + + Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +It was a verse which had been omitted by the gallant Stanner, out of +respect to the ladies. + +The new-comer was red-haired and of florid complexion, and seemed full of +a conviction that his whim of entering must be their pleasure, which for +the moment it was. + +'No ceremony, good men all,' he said; 'I was passing by, and my ear was +caught by the singing. I like singing; 'tis warming and cheering, and +shall not be put down. I should like to hear anybody say otherwise.' + +'Welcome, Master Derriman,' said the miller, filling a glass and handing +it to the yeoman. 'Come all the way from quarters, then? I hardly +knowed ye in your soldier's clothes. You'd look more natural with a spud +in your hand, sir. I shouldn't ha' known ye at all if I hadn't heard +that you were called out.' + +'More natural with a spud!--have a care, miller,' said the young giant, +the fire of his complexion increasing to scarlet. 'I don't mean anger, +but--but--a soldier's honour, you know!' + +The military in the background laughed a little, and the yeoman then for +the first time discovered that there were more regulars present than one. +He looked momentarily disconcerted, but expanded again to full assurance. + +'Right, right, Master Derriman, no offence--'twas only my joke,' said the +genial miller. 'Everybody's a soldier nowadays. Drink a drap o' this +cordial, and don't mind words.' + +The young man drank without the least reluctance, and said, 'Yes, miller, +I am called out. 'Tis ticklish times for us soldiers now; we hold our +lives in our hands--What are those fellows grinning at behind the +table?--I say, we do!' + +'Staying with your uncle at the farm for a day or two, Mr. Derriman?' + +'No, no; as I told you, six mile off. Billeted at Casterbridge. But I +have to call and see the old, old--' + +'Gentleman?' + +'Gentleman!--no, skinflint. He lives upon the sweepings of the barton; +ha, ha!' And the speaker's regular white teeth showed themselves like +snow in a Dutch cabbage. 'Well, well, the profession of arms makes a man +proof against all that. I take things as I find 'em.' + +'Quite right, Master Derriman. Another drop?' + +'No, no. I'll take no more than is good for me--no man should; so don't +tempt me.' + +The yeoman then saw Anne, and by an unconscious gravitation went towards +her and the other women, flinging a remark to John Loveday in passing. +'Ah, Loveday! I heard you were come; in short, I come o' purpose to see +you. Glad to see you enjoying yourself at home again.' + +The trumpet-major replied civilly, though not without grimness, for he +seemed hardly to like Derriman's motion towards Anne. + +'Widow Garland's daughter!--yes, 'tis! surely. You remember me? I have +been here before. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry Cavalry.' + +Anne gave a little curtsey. 'I know your name is Festus--that's all.' + +'Yes, 'tis well known--especially latterly.' He dropped his voice to +confidence pitch. 'I suppose your friends here are disturbed by my +coming in, as they don't seem to talk much? I don't mean to interrupt +the party; but I often find that people are put out by my coming among +'em, especially when I've got my regimentals on.' + +'La! and are they?' + +'Yes; 'tis the way I have.' He further lowered his tone, as if they had +been old friends, though in reality he had only seen her three or four +times. 'And how did you come to be here? Dash my wig, I don't like to +see a nice young lady like you in this company. You should come to some +of our yeomanry sprees in Casterbridge or Shottsford-Forum. O, but the +girls do come! The yeomanry are respected men, men of good substantial +families, many farming their own land; and every one among us rides his +own charger, which is more than these cussed fellows do.' He nodded +towards the dragoons. + +'Hush, hush! Why, these are friends and neighbours of Miller Loveday, +and he is a great friend of ours--our best friend,' said Anne with great +emphasis, and reddening at the sense of injustice to their host. 'What +are you thinking of, talking like that? It is ungenerous in you.' + +'Ha, ha! I've affronted you. Isn't that it, fair angel, fair--what do +you call it?--fair vestal? Ah, well! would you was safe in my own house! +But honour must be minded now, not courting. Rollicum-rorum, tol-lol- +lorum. Pardon me, my sweet, I like ye! It may be a come down for me, +owning land; but I do like ye.' + +'Sir, please be quiet,' said Anne, distressed. + +'I will, I will. Well, Corporal Tullidge, how's your head?' he said, +going towards the other end of the room, and leaving Anne to herself. + +The company had again recovered its liveliness, and it was a long time +before the bouncing Rufus who had joined them could find heart to tear +himself away from their society and good liquors, although he had had +quite enough of the latter before he entered. The natives received him +at his own valuation, and the soldiers of the camp, who sat beyond the +table, smiled behind their pipes at his remarks, with a pleasant twinkle +of the eye which approached the satirical, John Loveday being not the +least conspicuous in this bearing. But he and his friends were too +courteous on such an occasion as the present to challenge the young man's +large remarks, and readily permitted him to set them right on the details +of camping and other military routine, about which the troopers seemed +willing to let persons hold any opinion whatever, provided that they +themselves were not obliged to give attention to it; showing, strangely +enough, that if there was one subject more than another which never +interested their minds, it was the art of war. To them the art of +enjoying good company in Overcombe Mill, the details of the miller's +household, the swarming of his bees, the number of his chickens, and the +fatness of his pigs, were matters of infinitely greater concern. + +The present writer, to whom this party has been described times out of +number by members of the Loveday family and other aged people now passed +away, can never enter the old living-room of Overcombe Mill without +beholding the genial scene through the mists of the seventy or eighty +years that intervene between then and now. First and brightest to the +eye are the dozen candles, scattered about regardless of expense, and +kept well snuffed by the miller, who walks round the room at intervals of +five minutes, snuffers in hand, and nips each wick with great precision, +and with something of an executioner's grim look upon his face as he +closes the snuffers upon the neck of the candle. Next to the +candle-light show the red and blue coats and white breeches of the +soldiers--nearly twenty of them in all besides the ponderous Derriman--the +head of the latter, and, indeed, the heads of all who are standing up, +being in dangerous proximity to the black beams of the ceiling. There is +not one among them who would attach any meaning to 'Vittoria,' or gather +from the syllables 'Waterloo' the remotest idea of his own glory or +death. Next appears the correct and innocent Anne, little thinking what +things Time has in store for her at no great distance off. She looks at +Derriman with a half-uneasy smile as he clanks hither and thither, and +hopes he will not single her out again to hold a private dialogue +with--which, however, he does, irresistibly attracted by the white muslin +figure. She must, of course, look a little gracious again now, lest his +mood should turn from sentimental to quarrelsome--no impossible +contingency with the yeoman-soldier, as her quick perception had noted. + +'Well, well; this idling won't do for me, folks,' he at last said, to +Anne's relief. 'I ought not to have come in, by rights; but I heard you +enjoying yourselves, and thought it might be worth while to see what you +were up to; I have several miles to go before bedtime;' and stretching +his arms, lifting his chin, and shaking his head, to eradicate any +unseemly curve or wrinkle from his person, the yeoman wished them an off- +hand good-night, and departed. + +'You should have teased him a little more, father,' said the +trumpet-major drily. 'You could soon have made him as crabbed as a +bear.' + +'I didn't want to provoke the chap--'twasn't worth while. He came in +friendly enough,' said the gentle miller without looking up. + +'I don't think he was overmuch friendly,' said John. + +''Tis as well to be neighbourly with folks, if they be not quite +onbearable,' his father genially replied, as he took off his coat to go +and draw more ale--this periodical stripping to the shirt-sleeves being +necessitated by the narrowness of the cellar and the smeary effect of its +numerous cobwebs upon best clothes. + +Some of the guests then spoke of Fess Derriman as not such a bad young +man if you took him right and humoured him; others said that he was +nobody's enemy but his own; and the elder ladies mentioned in a tone of +interest that he was likely to come into a deal of money at his uncle's +death. The person who did not praise was the one who knew him best, who +had known him as a boy years ago, when he had lived nearer to Overcombe +than he did at present. This unappreciative person was the +trumpet-major. + + + + +VI. OLD MR. DERRIMAN OF OXWELL HALL + + +At this time in the history of Overcombe one solitary newspaper +occasionally found its way into the village. It was lent by the +postmaster at Budmouth (who, in some mysterious way, got it for nothing +through his connexion with the mail) to Mr. Derriman at the Hall, by whom +it was handed on to Mrs. Garland when it was not more than a fortnight +old. Whoever remembers anything about the old farmer-squire will, of +course, know well enough that this delightful privilege of reading +history in long columns was not accorded to the Widow Garland for +nothing. It was by such ingenuous means that he paid her for her +daughter's occasional services in reading aloud to him and making out his +accounts, in which matters the farmer, whose guineas were reported to +touch five figures--some said more--was not expert. + +Mrs. Martha Garland, as a respectable widow, occupied a twilight rank +between the benighted villagers and the well-informed gentry, and kindly +made herself useful to the former as letter-writer and reader, and +general translator from the printing tongue. It was not without +satisfaction that she stood at her door of an evening, newspaper in hand, +with three or four cottagers standing round, and poured down their open +throats any paragraph that she might choose to select from the stirring +ones of the period. When she had done with the sheet Mrs. Garland passed +it on to the miller, the miller to the grinder, and the grinder to the +grinder's boy, in whose hands it became subdivided into half pages, +quarter pages, and irregular triangles, and ended its career as a paper +cap, a flagon bung, or a wrapper for his bread and cheese. + +Notwithstanding his compact with Mrs. Garland, old Mr. Derriman kept the +paper so long, and was so chary of wasting his man's time on a merely +intellectual errand, that unless she sent for the journal it seldom +reached her hands. Anne was always her messenger. The arrival of the +soldiers led Mrs. Garland to despatch her daughter for it the day after +the party; and away she went in her hat and pelisse, in a direction at +right angles to that of the encampment on the hill. + +Walking across the fields for the distance of a mile or two, she came out +upon the high-road by a wicket-gate. On the other side of the way was +the entrance to what at first sight looked like a neglected meadow, the +gate being a rotten one, without a bottom rail, and broken-down palings +lying on each side. The dry hard mud of the opening was marked with +several horse and cow tracks, that had been half obliterated by fifty +score sheep tracks, surcharged with the tracks of a man and a dog. Beyond +this geological record appeared a carriage-road, nearly grown over with +grass, which Anne followed. It descended by a gentle slope, dived under +dark-rinded elm and chestnut trees, and conducted her on till the hiss of +a waterfall and the sound of the sea became audible, when it took a bend +round a swamp of fresh watercress and brooklime that had once been a fish +pond. Here the grey, weather-worn front of a building edged from behind +the trees. It was Oxwell Hall, once the seat of a family now extinct, +and of late years used as a farmhouse. + +Benjamin Derriman, who owned the crumbling place, had originally been +only the occupier and tenant-farmer of the fields around. His wife had +brought him a small fortune, and during the growth of their only son +there had been a partition of the Oxwell estate, giving the farmer, now a +widower, the opportunity of acquiring the building and a small portion of +the land attached on exceptionally low terms. But two years after the +purchase the boy died, and Derriman's existence was paralyzed forthwith. +It was said that since that event he had devised the house and fields to +a distant female relative, to keep them out of the hands of his detested +nephew; but this was not certainly known. + +The hall was as interesting as mansions in a state of declension usually +are, as the excellent county history showed. That popular work in folio +contained an old plate dedicated to the last scion of the original +owners, from which drawing it appeared that in 1750, the date of +publication, the windows were covered with little scratches like black +flashes of lightning; that a horn of hard smoke came out of each of the +twelve chimneys; that a lady and a lap-dog stood on the lawn in a +strenuously walking position; and a substantial cloud and nine flying +birds of no known species hung over the trees to the north-east. + +The rambling and neglected dwelling had all the romantic excellencies and +practical drawbacks which such mildewed places share in common with +caves, mountains, wildernesses, glens, and other homes of poesy that +people of taste wish to live and die in. Mustard and cress could have +been raised on the inner plaster of the dewy walls at any height not +exceeding three feet from the floor; and mushrooms of the most refined +and thin-stemmed kinds grew up through the chinks of the larder paving. +As for the outside, Nature, in the ample time that had been given her, +had so mingled her filings and effacements with the marks of human wear +and tear upon the house, that it was often hard to say in which of the +two or if in both, any particular obliteration had its origin. The +keenness was gone from the mouldings of the doorways, but whether worn +out by the rubbing past of innumerable people's shoulders, and the moving +of their heavy furniture, or by Time in a grander and more abstract form, +did not appear. The iron stanchions inside the window-panes were eaten +away to the size of wires at the bottom where they entered the stone, the +condensed breathings of generations having settled there in pools and +rusted them. The panes themselves had either lost their shine altogether +or become iridescent as a peacock's tail. In the middle of the porch was +a vertical sun-dial, whose gnomon swayed loosely about when the wind +blew, and cast its shadow hither and thither, as much as to say, 'Here's +your fine model dial; here's any time for any man; I am an old dial; and +shiftiness is the best policy.' + +Anne passed under the arched gateway which screened the main front; over +it was the porter's lodge, reached by a spiral staircase. Across the +archway was fixed a row of wooden hurdles, one of which Anne opened and +closed behind her. Their necessity was apparent as soon as she got +inside. The quadrangle of the ancient pile was a bed of mud and manure, +inhabited by calves, geese, ducks, and sow pigs surprisingly large, with +young ones surprisingly small. In the groined porch some heifers were +amusing themselves by stretching up their necks and licking the carved +stone capitals that supported the vaulting. Anne went on to a second and +open door, across which was another hurdle to keep the live stock from +absolute community with the inmates. There being no knocker, she knocked +by means of a short stick which was laid against the post for that +purpose; but nobody attending, she entered the passage, and tried an +inner door. + +A slight noise was heard inside, the door opened about an inch, and a +strip of decayed face, including the eye and some forehead wrinkles, +appeared within the crevice. + +'Please I have come for the paper,' said Anne. + +'O, is it you, dear Anne?' whined the inmate, opening the door a little +further. 'I could hardly get to the door to open it, I am so weak.' + +The speaker was a wizened old gentleman, in a coat the colour of his +farmyard, breeches of the same hue, unbuttoned at the knees, revealing a +bit of leg above his stocking and a dazzlingly white shirt-frill to +compensate for this untidiness below. The edge of his skull round his +eye-sockets was visible through the skin, and he had a mouth whose +corners made towards the back of his head on the slightest provocation. +He walked with great apparent difficulty back into the room, Anne +following him. + +'Well, you can have the paper if you want it; but you never give me much +time to see what's in en! Here's the paper.' He held it out, but before +she could take it he drew it back again, saying, 'I have not had my share +o' the paper by a good deal, what with my weak sight, and people coming +so soon for en. I am a poor put-upon soul; but my "Duty of Man" will be +left to me when the newspaper is gone.' And he sank into his chair with +an air of exhaustion. + +Anne said that she did not wish to take the paper if he had not done with +it, and that she was really later in the week than usual, owing to the +soldiers. + +'Soldiers, yes--rot the soldiers! And now hedges will be broke, and +hens' nests robbed, and sucking-pigs stole, and I don't know what all. +Who's to pay for't, sure? I reckon that because the soldiers be come you +don't mean to be kind enough to read to me what I hadn't time to read +myself.' + +She would read if he wished, she said; she was in no hurry. And sitting +herself down she unfolded the paper. + +'"Dinner at Carlton House"?' + +'No, faith. 'Tis nothing to I.' + +'"Defence of the country"?' + +'Ye may read that if ye will. I hope there will be no billeting in this +parish, or any wild work of that sort; for what would a poor old lamiger +like myself do with soldiers in his house, and nothing to feed 'em with?' + +Anne began reading, and continued at her task nearly ten minutes, when +she was interrupted by the appearance in the quadrangular slough without +of a large figure in the uniform of the yeomanry cavalry. + +'What do you see out there?' said the farmer with a start, as she paused +and slowly blushed. + +'A soldier--one of the yeomanry,' said Anne, not quite at her ease. + +'Scrounch it all--'tis my nephew!' exclaimed the old man, his face +turning to a phosphoric pallor, and his body twitching with innumerable +alarms as he formed upon his face a gasping smile of joy, with which to +welcome the new-coming relative. 'Read on, prithee, Miss Garland.' + +Before she had read far the visitor straddled over the door-hurdle into +the passage and entered the room. + +'Well, nunc, how do you feel?' said the giant, shaking hands with the +farmer in the manner of one violently ringing a hand-bell. 'Glad to see +you.' + +'Bad and weakish, Festus,' replied the other, his person responding +passively to the rapid vibrations imparted. 'O, be tender, please--a +little softer, there's a dear nephew! My arm is no more than a cobweb.' + +'Ah, poor soul!' + +'Yes, I am not much more than a skeleton, and can't bear rough usage.' + +'Sorry to hear that; but I'll bear your affliction in mind. Why, you are +all in a tremble, Uncle Benjy!' + +''Tis because I am so gratified,' said the old man. 'I always get all in +a tremble when I am taken by surprise by a beloved relation.' + +'Ah, that's it!' said the yeoman, bringing his hand down on the back of +his uncle's chair with a loud smack, at which Uncle Benjy nervously +sprang three inches from his seat and dropped into it again. 'Ask your +pardon for frightening ye, uncle. 'Tis how we do in the army, and I +forgot your nerves. You have scarcely expected to see me, I dare say, +but here I am.' + +'I am glad to see ye. You are not going to stay long, perhaps?' + +'Quite the contrary. I am going to stay ever so long!' + +'O I see! I am so glad, dear Festus. Ever so long, did ye say?' + +'Yes, _ever_ so long,' said the young gentleman, sitting on the slope of +the bureau and stretching out his legs as props. 'I am going to make +this quite my own home whenever I am off duty, as long as we stay out. +And after that, when the campaign is over in the autumn, I shall come +here, and live with you like your own son, and help manage your land and +your farm, you know, and make you a comfortable old man.' + +'Ah! How you do please me!' said the farmer, with a horrified smile, and +grasping the arms of his chair to sustain himself. + +'Yes; I have been meaning to come a long time, as I knew you'd like to +have me, Uncle Benjy; and 'tisn't in my heart to refuse you.' + +'You always was kind that way!' + +'Yes; I always was. But I ought to tell you at once, not to disappoint +you, that I shan't be here always--all day, that is, because of my +military duties as a cavalry man.' + +'O, not always? That's a pity!' exclaimed the farmer with a cheerful +eye. + +'I knew you'd say so. And I shan't be able to sleep here at night +sometimes, for the same reason.' + +'Not sleep here o' nights?' said the old gentleman, still more relieved. +'You ought to sleep here--you certainly ought; in short, you must. But +you can't!' + +'Not while we are with the colours. But directly that's over--the very +next day--I'll stay here all day, and all night too, to oblige you, since +you ask me so very kindly.' + +'Th-thank ye, that will be very nice!' said Uncle Benjy. + +'Yes, I knew 'twould relieve ye.' And he kindly stroked his uncle's +head, the old man expressing his enjoyment at the affectionate token by a +death's-head grimace. 'I should have called to see you the other night +when I passed through here,' Festus continued; 'but it was so late that I +couldn't come so far out of my way. You won't think it unkind?' + +'Not at all, if you _couldn't_. I never shall think it unkind if you +really _can't_ come, you know, Festy.' There was a few minutes' pause, +and as the nephew said nothing Uncle Benjy went on: 'I wish I had a +little present for ye. But as ill-luck would have it we have lost a deal +of stock this year, and I have had to pay away so much.' + +'Poor old man--I know you have. Shall I lend you a seven-shilling piece, +Uncle Benjy?' + +'Ha, ha!--you must have your joke; well, I'll think o' that. And so they +expect Buonaparty to choose this very part of the coast for his landing, +hey? And that the yeomanry be to stand in front as the forlorn hope?' + +'Who says so?' asked the florid son of Mars, losing a little redness. + +'The newspaper-man.' + +'O, there's nothing in that,' said Festus bravely. 'The gover'ment +thought it possible at one time; but they don't know.' + +Festus turned himself as he talked, and now said abruptly: 'Ah, who's +this? Why, 'tis our little Anne!' He had not noticed her till this +moment, the young woman having at his entry kept her face over the +newspaper, and then got away to the back part of the room. 'And are you +and your mother always going to stay down there in the mill-house +watching the little fishes, Miss Anne?' + +She said that it was uncertain, in a tone of truthful precision which the +question was hardly worth, looking forcedly at him as she spoke. But she +blushed fitfully, in her arms and hands as much as in her face. Not that +she was overpowered by the great boots, formidable spurs, and other +fierce appliances of his person, as he imagined; simply she had not been +prepared to meet him there. + +'I hope you will, I am sure, for my own good,' said he, letting his eyes +linger on the round of her cheek. + +Anne became a little more dignified, and her look showed reserve. But +the yeoman on perceiving this went on talking to her in so civil a way +that he irresistibly amused her, though she tried to conceal all feeling. +At a brighter remark of his than usual her mouth moved, her upper lip +playing uncertainly over her white teeth; it would stay still--no, it +would withdraw a little way in a smile; then it would flutter down again; +and so it wavered like a butterfly in a tender desire to be pleased and +smiling, and yet to be also sedate and composed; to show him that she did +not want compliments, and yet that she was not so cold as to wish to +repress any genuine feeling he might be anxious to utter. + +'Shall you want any more reading, Mr. Derriman?' said she, interrupting +the younger man in his remarks. 'If not, I'll go homeward.' + +'Don't let me hinder you longer,' said Festus. 'I'm off in a minute or +two, when your man has cleaned my boots.' + +'Ye don't hinder us, nephew. She must have the paper: 'tis the day for +her to have 'n. She might read a little more, as I have had so little +profit out o' en hitherto. Well, why don't ye speak? Will ye, or won't +ye, my dear?' + +'Not to two,' she said. + +'Ho, ho! damn it, I must go then, I suppose,' said Festus, laughing; and +unable to get a further glance from her he left the room and clanked into +the back yard, where he saw a man; holding up his hand he cried, 'Anthony +Cripplestraw!' + +Cripplestraw came up in a trot, moved a lock of his hair and replaced it, +and said, 'Yes, Maister Derriman.' He was old Mr. Derriman's odd hand in +the yard and garden, and like his employer had no great pretensions to +manly beauty, owing to a limpness of backbone and speciality of mouth, +which opened on one side only, giving him a triangular smile. + +'Well, Cripplestraw, how is it to-day?' said Festus, with +socially-superior heartiness. + +'Middlin', considering, Maister Derriman. And how's yerself?' + +'Fairish. Well, now, see and clean these military boots of mine. I'll +cock my foot up on this bench. This pigsty of my uncle's is not fit for +a soldier to come into.' + +'Yes, Maister Derriman, I will. No, 'tis not fit, Maister Derriman.' + +'What stock has uncle lost this year, Cripplestraw?' + +'Well, let's see, sir. I can call to mind that we've lost three +chickens, a tom-pigeon, and a weakly sucking-pig, one of a fare of ten. I +can't think of no more, Maister Derriman.' + +'H'm, not a large quantity of cattle. The old rascal!' + +'No, 'tis not a large quantity. Old what did you say, sir?' + +'O nothing. He's within there.' Festus flung his forehead in the +direction of a right line towards the inner apartment. 'He's a regular +sniche one.' + +'Hee, hee; fie, fie, Master Derriman!' said Cripplestraw, shaking his +head in delighted censure. 'Gentlefolks shouldn't talk so. And an +officer, Mr. Derriman! 'Tis the duty of all cavalry gentlemen to bear in +mind that their blood is a knowed thing in the country, and not to speak +ill o't.' + +'He's close-fisted.' + +'Well, maister, he is--I own he is a little. 'Tis the nater of some old +venerable gentlemen to be so. We'll hope he'll treat ye well in yer +fortune, sir.' + +'Hope he will. Do people talk about me here, Cripplestraw?' asked the +yeoman, as the other continued busy with his boots. + +'Well, yes, sir; they do off and on, you know. They says you be as fine +a piece of calvery flesh and bones as was ever growed on fallow-ground; +in short, all owns that you be a fine fellow, sir. I wish I wasn't no +more afraid of the French than you be; but being in the Locals, Maister +Derriman, I assure ye I dream of having to defend my country every night; +and I don't like the dream at all.' + +'You should take it careless, Cripplestraw, as I do; and 'twould soon +come natural to you not to mind it at all. Well, a fine fellow is not +everything, you know. O no. There's as good as I in the army, and even +better.' + +'And they say that when you fall this summer, you'll die like a man.' + +'When I fall?' + +'Yes, sure, Maister Derriman. Poor soul o' thee! I shan't forget 'ee as +you lie mouldering in yer soldier's grave.' + +'Hey?' said the warrior uneasily. 'What makes 'em think I am going to +fall?' + +'Well, sir, by all accounts the yeomanry will be put in front.' + +'Front! That's what my uncle has been saying.' + +'Yes, and by all accounts 'tis true. And naterelly they'll be mowed down +like grass; and you among 'em, poor young galliant officer!' + +'Look here, Cripplestraw. This is a reg'lar foolish report. How can +yeomanry be put in front? Nobody's put in front. We yeomanry have +nothing to do with Buonaparte's landing. We shall be away in a safe +place, guarding the possessions and jewels. Now, can you see, +Cripplestraw, any way at all that the yeomanry can be put in front? Do +you think they really can?' + +'Well, maister, I am afraid I do,' said the cheering Cripplestraw. 'And +I know a great warrior like you is only too glad o' the chance. 'Twill +be a great thing for ye, death and glory! In short, I hope from my heart +you will be, and I say so very often to folk--in fact, I pray at night +for't.' + +'O! cuss you! you needn't pray about it.' + +'No, Maister Derriman, I won't.' + +'Of course my sword will do its duty. That's enough. And now be off +with ye.' + +Festus gloomily returned to his uncle's room and found that Anne was just +leaving. He was inclined to follow her at once, but as she gave him no +opportunity for doing this he went to the window, and remained tapping +his fingers against the shutter while she crossed the yard. + +'Well, nephy, you are not gone yet?' said the farmer, looking dubiously +at Festus from under one eyelid. 'You see how I am. Not by any means +better, you see; so I can't entertain 'ee as well as I would.' + +'You can't, nunc, you can't. I don't think you are worse--if I do, dash +my wig. But you'll have plenty of opportunities to make me welcome when +you are better. If you are not so brisk inwardly as you was, why not try +change of air? This is a dull, damp hole.' + +''Tis, Festus; and I am thinking of moving.' + +'Ah, where to?' said Festus, with surprise and interest. + +'Up into the garret in the north corner. There is no fireplace in the +room; but I shan't want that, poor soul o' me.' + +''Tis not moving far.' + +''Tis not. But I have not a soul belonging to me within ten mile; and +you know very well that I couldn't afford to go to lodgings that I had to +pay for.' + +'I know it--I know it, Uncle Benjy! Well, don't be disturbed. I'll come +and manage for you as soon as ever this Boney alarm is over; but when a +man's country calls he must obey, if he is a man.' + +'A splendid spirit!' said Uncle Benjy, with much admiration on the +surface of his countenance. 'I never had it. How could it have got into +the boy?' + +'From my mother's side, perhaps.' + +'Perhaps so. Well, take care of yourself, nephy,' said the farmer, +waving his hand impressively. 'Take care! In these warlike times your +spirit may carry ye into the arms of the enemy; and you are the last of +the family. You should think of this, and not let your bravery carry ye +away.' + +'Don't be disturbed, uncle; I'll control myself,' said Festus, betrayed +into self-complacency against his will. 'At least I'll do what I can, +but nature will out sometimes. Well, I'm off.' He began humming +'Brighton Camp,' and, promising to come again soon, retired with +assurance, each yard of his retreat adding private joyousness to his +uncle's form. + +When the bulky young man had disappeared through the porter's lodge, +Uncle Benjy showed preternatural activity for one in his invalid state, +jumping up quickly without his stick, at the same time opening and +shutting his mouth quite silently like a thirsty frog, which was his way +of expressing mirth. He ran upstairs as quick as an old squirrel, and +went to a dormer window which commanded a view of the grounds beyond the +gate, and the footpath that stretched across them to the village. + +'Yes, yes!' he said in a suppressed scream, dancing up and down, 'he's +after her: she've hit en!' For there appeared upon the path the figure +of Anne Garland, and, hastening on at some little distance behind her, +the swaggering shape of Festus. She became conscious of his approach, +and moved more quickly. He moved more quickly still, and overtook her. +She turned as if in answer to a call from him, and he walked on beside +her, till they were out of sight. The old man then played upon an +imaginary fiddle for about half a minute; and, suddenly discontinuing +these signs of pleasure, went downstairs again. + + + + +VII. HOW THEY TALKED IN THE PASTURES + + +'You often come this way?' said Festus to Anne rather before he had +overtaken her. + +'I come for the newspaper and other things,' she said, perplexed by a +doubt whether he were there by accident or design. + +They moved on in silence, Festus beating the grass with his switch in a +masterful way. 'Did you speak, Mis'ess Anne?' he asked. + +'No,' said Anne. + +'Ten thousand pardons. I thought you did. Now don't let me drive you +out of the path. I can walk among the high grass and giltycups--they +will not yellow my stockings as they will yours. Well, what do you think +of a lot of soldiers coming to the neighbourhood in this way?' + +'I think it is very lively, and a great change,' she said with demure +seriousness. + +'Perhaps you don't like us warriors as a body?' + +Anne smiled without replying. + +'Why, you are laughing!' said the yeoman, looking searchingly at her and +blushing like a little fire. 'What do you see to laugh at?' + +'Did I laugh?' said Anne, a little scared at his sudden mortification. + +'Why, yes; you know you did, you young sneerer,' he said like a cross +baby. 'You are laughing at me--that's who you are laughing at! I should +like to know what you would do without such as me if the French were to +drop in upon ye any night?' + +'Would you help to beat them off?' said she. + +'Can you ask such a question? What are we for? But you don't think +anything of soldiers.' + +O yes, she liked soldiers, she said, especially when they came home from +the wars, covered with glory; though when she thought what doings had won +them that glory she did not like them quite so well. The gallant and +appeased yeoman said he supposed her to mean chopping off heads, blowing +out brains, and that kind of business, and thought it quite right that a +tender-hearted thing like her should feel a little horrified. But as for +him, he should not mind such another Blenheim this summer as the army had +fought a hundred years ago, or whenever it was--dash his wig if he should +mind it at all. 'Hullo! now you are laughing again; yes, I saw you!' And +the choleric Festus turned his blue eyes and flushed face upon her as +though he would read her through. Anne strove valiantly to look calmly +back; but her eyes could not face his, and they fell. 'You did laugh!' +he repeated. + +'It was only a tiny little one,' she murmured. + +'Ah--I knew you did!' thundered he. 'Now what was it you laughed at?' + +'I only--thought that you were--merely in the yeomanry,' she murmured +slily. + +'And what of that?' + +'And the yeomanry only seem farmers that have lost their senses.' + +'Yes, yes! I knew you meant some jeering o' that sort, Mistress Anne. +But I suppose 'tis the way of women, and I take no notice. I'll confess +that some of us are no great things: but I know how to draw a sword, +don't I?--say I don't just to provoke me.' + +'I am sure you do,' said Anne sweetly. 'If a Frenchman came up to you, +Mr. Derriman, would you take him on the hip, or on the thigh?' + +'Now you are flattering!' he said, his white teeth uncovering themselves +in a smile. 'Well, of course I should draw my sword--no, I mean my sword +would be already drawn; and I should put spurs to my horse--charger, as +we call it in the army; and I should ride up to him and say--no, I +shouldn't say anything, of course--men never waste words in battle; I +should take him with the third guard, low point, and then coming back to +the second guard--' + +'But that would be taking care of yourself--not hitting at him.' + +'How can you say that!' he cried, the beams upon his face turning to a +lurid cloud in a moment. 'How can you understand military terms who've +never had a sword in your life? I shouldn't take him with the sword at +all.' He went on with eager sulkiness, 'I should take him with my +pistol. I should pull off my right glove, and throw back my goat-skin; +then I should open my priming-pan, prime, and cast about--no, I +shouldn't, that's wrong; I should draw my right pistol, and as soon as +loaded, seize the weapon by the butt; then at the word "Cock your pistol" +I should--' + +'Then there is plenty of time to give such words of command in the heat +of battle?' said Anne innocently. + +'No!' said the yeoman, his face again in flames. 'Why, of course I am +only telling you what _would_ be the word of command _if_--there now! you +la--' + +'I didn't; 'pon my word I didn't!' + +'No, I don't think you did; it was my mistake. Well, then I come smartly +to Present, looking well along the barrel--along the barrel--and fire. Of +course I know well enough how to engage the enemy! But I expect my old +uncle has been setting you against me.' + +'He has not said a word,' replied Anne; 'though I have heard of you, of +course.' + +'What have you heard? Nothing good, I dare say. It makes my blood boil +within me!' + +'O, nothing bad,' said she assuringly. 'Just a word now and then.' + +'Now, come, tell me, there's a dear. I don't like to be crossed. It +shall be a sacred secret between us. Come, now!' + +Anne was embarrassed, and her smile was uncomfortable. 'I shall not tell +you,' she said at last. + +'There it is again!' said the yeoman, throwing himself into a despair. 'I +shall soon begin to believe that my name is not worth sixpence about +here!' + +'I tell you 'twas nothing against you,' repeated Anne. + +'That means it might have been for me,' said Festus, in a mollified tone. +'Well, though, to speak the truth, I have a good many faults, some people +will praise me, I suppose. 'Twas praise?' + +'It was.' + +'Well, I am not much at farming, and I am not much in company, and I am +not much at figures, but perhaps I must own, since it is forced upon me, +that I can show as fine a soldier's figure on the Esplanade as any man of +the cavalry.' + +'You can,' said Anne; for though her flesh crept in mortal terror of his +irascibility, she could not resist the fearful pleasure of leading him +on. 'You look very well; and some say, you are--' + +'What? Well, they say I am good-looking. I don't make myself, so 'tis +no praise. Hullo! what are you looking across there for?' + +'Only at a bird that I saw fly out of that tree,' said Anne. + +'What? Only at a bird, do you say?' he heaved out in a voice of thunder. +'I see your shoulders a-shaking, young madam. Now don't you provoke me +with that laughing! By God, it won't do!' + +'Then go away!' said Anne, changed from mirthfulness to irritation by his +rough manner. 'I don't want your company, you great bragging thing! You +are so touchy there's no bearing with you. Go away!' + +'No, no, Anne; I am wrong to speak to you so. I give you free liberty to +say what you will to me. Say I am not a bit of a soldier, or anything! +Abuse me--do now, there's a dear. I'm scum, I'm froth, I'm dirt before +the besom--yes!' + +'I have nothing to say, sir. Stay where you are till I am out of this +field.' + +'Well, there's such command in your looks that I ha'n't heart to go +against you. You will come this way to-morrow at the same time? Now, +don't be uncivil.' + +She was too generous not to forgive him, but the short little lip +murmured that she did not think it at all likely she should come that way +to-morrow. + +'Then Sunday?' he said. + +'Not Sunday,' said she. + +'Then Monday--Tuesday--Wednesday, surely?' he went on experimentally. + +She answered that she should probably not see him on either day, and, +cutting short the argument, went through the wicket into the other field. +Festus paused, looking after her; and when he could no longer see her +slight figure he swept away his deliberations, began singing, and turned +off in the other direction. + + + + +VIII. ANNE MAKES A CIRCUIT OF THE CAMP + + +When Anne was crossing the last field, she saw approaching her an old +woman with wrinkled cheeks, who surveyed the earth and its inhabitants +through the medium of brass-rimmed spectacles. Shaking her head at Anne +till the glasses shone like two moons, she said, 'Ah, ah; I zeed ye! If +I had only kept on my short ones that I use for reading the Collect and +Gospel I shouldn't have zeed ye; but thinks I, I be going out o' doors, +and I'll put on my long ones, little thinking what they'd show me. Ay, I +can tell folk at any distance with these--'tis a beautiful pair for out +o' doors; though my short ones be best for close work, such as darning, +and catching fleas, that's true.' + +'What have you seen, Granny Seamore?' said Anne. + +'Fie, fie, Miss Nancy! you know,' said Granny Seamore, shaking her head +still. 'But he's a fine young feller, and will have all his uncle's +money when 'a's gone.' Anne said nothing to this, and looking ahead with +a smile passed Granny Seamore by. + +Festus, the subject of the remark, was at this time about +three-and-twenty, a fine fellow as to feet and inches, and of a +remarkably warm tone in skin and hair. Symptoms of beard and whiskers +had appeared upon him at a very early age, owing to his persistent use of +the razor before there was any necessity for its operation. The brave +boy had scraped unseen in the out-house, in the cellar, in the wood-shed, +in the stable, in the unused parlour, in the cow-stalls, in the barn, and +wherever he could set up his triangular bit of looking-glass without +observation, or extemporize a mirror by sticking up his hat on the +outside of a window-pane. The result now was that, did he neglect to use +the instrument he once had trifled with, a fine rust broke out upon his +countenance on the first day, a golden lichen on the second, and a fiery +stubble on the third to a degree which admitted of no further +postponement. + +His disposition divided naturally into two, the boastful and the +cantankerous. When Festus put on the big pot, as it is classically +called, he was quite blinded ipso facto to the diverting effect of that +mood and manner upon others; but when disposed to be envious or +quarrelsome he was rather shrewd than otherwise, and could do some pretty +strokes of satire. He was both liked and abused by the girls who knew +him, and though they were pleased by his attentions, they never failed to +ridicule him behind his back. In his cups (he knew those vessels, though +only twenty-three) he first became noisy, then excessively friendly, and +then invariably nagging. During childhood he had made himself renowned +for his pleasant habit of pouncing down upon boys smaller and poorer than +himself, and knocking their birds' nests out of their hands, or +overturning their little carts of apples, or pouring water down their +backs; but his conduct became singularly the reverse of aggressive the +moment the little boys' mothers ran out to him, brandishing brooms, +frying-pans, skimmers, and whatever else they could lay hands on by way +of weapons. He then fled and hid behind bushes, under faggots, or in +pits till they had gone away; and on one such occasion was known to creep +into a badger's hole quite out of sight, maintaining that post with great +firmness and resolution for two or three hours. He had brought more +vulgar exclamations upon the tongues of respectable parents in his native +parish than any other boy of his time. When other youngsters snowballed +him he ran into a place of shelter, where he kneaded snowballs of his +own, with a stone inside, and used these formidable missiles in returning +their pleasantry. Sometimes he got fearfully beaten by boys his own age, +when he would roar most lustily, but fight on in the midst of his tears, +blood, and cries. + +He was early in love, and had at the time of the story suffered from the +ravages of that passion thirteen distinct times. He could not love +lightly and gaily; his love was earnest, cross-tempered, and even savage. +It was a positive agony to him to be ridiculed by the object of his +affections, and such conduct drove him into a frenzy if persisted in. He +was a torment to those who behaved humbly towards him, cynical with those +who denied his superiority, and a very nice fellow towards those who had +the courage to ill-use him. + +This stalwart gentleman and Anne Garland did not cross each other's paths +again for a week. Then her mother began as before about the newspaper, +and, though Anne did not much like the errand, she agreed to go for it on +Mrs. Garland pressing her with unusual anxiety. Why her mother was so +persistent on so small a matter quite puzzled the girl; but she put on +her hat and started. + +As she had expected, Festus appeared at a stile over which she sometimes +went for shortness' sake, and showed by his manner that he awaited her. +When she saw this she kept straight on, as if she would not enter the +park at all. + +'Surely this is your way?' said Festus. + +'I was thinking of going round by the road,' she said. + +'Why is that?' + +She paused, as if she were not inclined to say. 'I go that way when the +grass is wet,' she returned at last. + +'It is not wet now,' he persisted; 'the sun has been shining on it these +nine hours.' The fact was that the way by the path was less open than by +the road, and Festus wished to walk with her uninterrupted. 'But, of +course, it is nothing to me what you do.' He flung himself from the +stile and walked away towards the house. + +Anne, supposing him really indifferent, took the same way, upon which he +turned his head and waited for her with a proud smile. + +'I cannot go with you,' she said decisively. + +'Nonsense, you foolish girl! I must walk along with you down to the +corner.' + +'No, please, Mr. Derriman; we might be seen.' + +'Now, now--that's shyness!' he said jocosely. + +'No; you know I cannot let you.' + +'But I must.' + +'But I do not allow it.' + +'Allow it or not, I will.' + +'Then you are unkind, and I must submit,' she said, her eyes brimming +with tears. + +'Ho, ho; what a shame of me! My wig, I won't do any such thing for the +world,' said the repentant yeoman. 'Haw, haw; why, I thought your "go +away" meant "come on," as it does with so many of the women I meet, +especially in these clothes. Who was to know you were so confoundedly +serious?' + +As he did not go Anne stood still and said nothing. + +'I see you have a deal more caution and a deal less good-nature than I +ever thought you had,' he continued emphatically. + +'No, sir; it is not any planned manner of mine at all,' she said +earnestly. 'But you will see, I am sure, that I could not go down to the +hall with you without putting myself in a wrong light.' + +'Yes; that's it, that's it. I am only a fellow in the yeomanry cavalry--a +plain soldier, I may say; and we know what women think of such: that they +are a bad lot--men you mustn't speak to for fear of losing your +character--chaps you avoid in the roads--chaps that come into a house +like oxen, daub the stairs wi' their boots, stain the furniture wi' their +drink, talk rubbish to the servants, abuse all that's holy and righteous, +and are only saved from being carried off by Old Nick because they are +wanted for Boney.' + +'Indeed, I didn't know you were thought so bad of as that,' said she +simply. + +'What! don't my uncle complain to you of me? You are a favourite of that +handsome, nice old gaffer's, I know.' + +'Never.' + +'Well, what do we think of our nice trumpet-major, hey?' + +Anne closed her mouth up tight, built it up, in fact, to show that no +answer was coming to that question. + +'O now, come, seriously, Loveday is a good fellow, and so is his father.' + +'I don't know.' + +'What a close little rogue you are! There is no getting anything out of +you. I believe you would say "I don't know," to every mortal question, +so very discreet as you are. Upon my heart, there are some women who +would say "I don't know," to "Will ye marry me?"' + +The brightness upon Anne's cheek and in her eyes during this remark +showed that there was a fair quantity of life and warmth beneath the +discretion he complained of. Having spoken thus, he drew aside that she +might pass, and bowed very low. Anne formally inclined herself and went +on. + +She had been at vexation point all the time that he was present, from a +haunting sense that he would not have spoken to her so freely had she +been a young woman with thriving male relatives to keep forward admirers +in check. But she had been struck, now as at their previous meeting, +with the power she possessed of working him up either to irritation or to +complacency at will; and this consciousness of being able to play upon +him as upon an instrument disposed her to a humorous considerateness, and +made her tolerate even while she rebuffed him. + +When Anne got to the hall the farmer, as usual, insisted upon her reading +what he had been unable to get through, and held the paper tightly in his +skinny hand till she had agreed. He sent her to a hard chair that she +could not possibly injure to the extent of a pennyworth by sitting in it +a twelvemonth, and watched her from the outer angle of his near eye while +she bent over the paper. His look might have been suggested by the sight +that he had witnessed from his window on the last occasion of her visit, +for it partook of the nature of concern. The old man was afraid of his +nephew, physically and morally, and he began to regard Anne as a fellow- +sufferer under the same despot. After this sly and curious gaze at her +he withdrew his eye again, so that when she casually lifted her own there +was nothing visible but his keen bluish profile as before. + +When the reading was about half-way through, the door behind them opened, +and footsteps crossed the threshold. The farmer diminished perceptibly +in his chair, and looked fearful, but pretended to be absorbed in the +reading, and quite unconscious of an intruder. Anne felt the presence of +the swashing Festus, and stopped her reading. + +'Please go on, Miss Anne,' he said, 'I am not going to speak a word.' He +withdrew to the mantelpiece and leaned against it at his ease. + +'Go on, do ye, maidy Anne,' said Uncle Benjy, keeping down his tremblings +by a great effort to half their natural extent. + +Anne's voice became much lower now that there were two listeners, and her +modesty shrank somewhat from exposing to Festus the appreciative +modulations which an intelligent interest in the subject drew from her +when unembarrassed. But she still went on that he might not suppose her +to be disconcerted, though the ensuing ten minutes was one of +disquietude. She knew that the bothering yeoman's eyes were travelling +over her from his position behind, creeping over her shoulders, up to her +head, and across her arms and hands. Old Benjy on his part knew the same +thing, and after sundry endeavours to peep at his nephew from the corner +of his eye, he could bear the situation no longer. + +'Do ye want to say anything to me, nephew?' he quaked. + +'No, uncle, thank ye,' said Festus heartily. 'I like to stay here, +thinking of you and looking at your back hair.' + +The nervous old man writhed under this vivisection, and Anne read on; +till, to the relief of both, the gallant fellow grew tired of his +amusement and went out of the room. Anne soon finished her paragraph and +rose to go, determined never to come again as long as Festus haunted the +precincts. Her face grew warmer as she thought that he would be sure to +waylay her on her journey home to-day. + +On this account, when she left the house, instead of going in the +customary direction, she bolted round to the further side, through the +bushes, along under the kitchen-garden wall, and through a door leading +into a rutted cart-track, which had been a pleasant gravelled drive when +the fine old hall was in its prosperity. Once out of sight of the +windows she ran with all her might till she had quitted the park by a +route directly opposite to that towards her home. Why she was so +seriously bent upon doing this she could hardly tell but the instinct to +run was irresistible. + +It was necessary now to clamber over the down to the left of the camp, +and make a complete circuit round the latter--infantry, cavalry, sutlers, +and all--descending to her house on the other side. This tremendous walk +she performed at a rapid rate, never once turning her head, and avoiding +every beaten track to keep clear of the knots of soldiers taking a walk. +When she at last got down to the levels again she paused to fetch breath, +and murmured, 'Why did I take so much trouble? He would not, after all, +have hurt me.' + +As she neared the mill an erect figure with a blue body and white thighs +descended before her from the down towards the village, and went past the +mill to a stile beyond, over which she usually returned to her house. +Here he lingered. On coming nearer Anne discovered this person to be +Trumpet-major Loveday; and not wishing to meet anybody just now Anne +passed quickly on, and entered the house by the garden door. + +'My dear Anne, what a time you have been gone!' said her mother. + +'Yes, I have been round by another road.' + +'Why did you do that?' + +Anne looked thoughtful and reticent, for her reason was almost too silly +a one to confess. 'Well, I wanted to avoid a person who is very busy +trying to meet me--that's all,' she said. + +Her mother glanced out of the window. 'And there he is, I suppose,' she +said, as John Loveday, tired of looking for Anne at the stile, passed the +house on his way to his father's door. He could not help casting his +eyes towards their window, and, seeing them, he smiled. + +Anne's reluctance to mention Festus was such that she did not correct her +mother's error, and the dame went on: 'Well, you are quite right, my +dear. Be friendly with him, but no more at present. I have heard of +your other affair, and think it is a very wise choice. I am sure you +have my best wishes in it, and I only hope it will come to a point.' + +'What's that?' said the astonished Anne. + +'You and Mr. Festus Derriman, dear. You need not mind me; I have known +it for several days. Old Granny Seamore called here Saturday, and told +me she saw him coming home with you across Park Close last week, when you +went for the newspaper; so I thought I'd send you again to-day, and give +you another chance.' + +'Then you didn't want the paper--and it was only for that!' + +'He's a very fine young fellow; he looks a thorough woman's protector.' + +'He may look it,' said Anne. + +'He has given up the freehold farm his father held at Pitstock, and lives +in independence on what the land brings him. And when Farmer Derriman +dies, he'll have all the old man's, for certain. He'll be worth ten +thousand pounds, if a penny, in money, besides sixteen horses, cart and +hack, a fifty-cow dairy, and at least five hundred sheep.' + +Anne turned away, and instead of informing her mother that she had been +running like a doe to escape the interesting heir-presumptive alluded to, +merely said 'Mother, I don't like this at all.' + + + + +IX. ANNE IS KINDLY FETCHED BY THE TRUMPET-MAJOR + + +After this, Anne would on no account walk in the direction of the hall +for fear of another encounter with young Derriman. In the course of a +few days it was told in the village that the old farmer had actually gone +for a week's holiday and change of air to the Royal watering-place near +at hand, at the instance of his nephew Festus. This was a wonderful +thing to hear of Uncle Benjy, who had not slept outside the walls of +Oxwell Hall for many a long year before; and Anne well imagined what +extraordinary pressure must have been put upon him to induce him to take +such a step. She pictured his unhappiness at the bustling +watering-place, and hoped no harm would come to him. + +She spent much of her time indoors or in the garden, hearing little of +the camp movements beyond the periodical Ta-ta-ta-taa of the trumpeters +sounding their various ingenious calls for watch-setting, stables, feed, +boot-and-saddle, parade, and so on, which made her think how clever her +friend the trumpet-major must be to teach his pupils to play those pretty +little tunes so well. + +On the third morning after Uncle Benjy's departure, she was disturbed as +usual while dressing by the tramp of the troops down the slope to the +mill-pond, and during the now familiar stamping and splashing which +followed there sounded upon the glass of the window a slight smack, which +might have been caused by a whip or switch. She listened more +particularly, and it was repeated. + +As John Loveday was the only dragoon likely to be aware that she slept in +that particular apartment, she imagined the signal to come from him, +though wondering that he should venture upon such a freak of familiarity. + +Wrapping herself up in a red cloak, she went to the window, gently drew +up a corner of the curtain, and peeped out, as she had done many times +before. Nobody who was not quite close beneath her window could see her +face; but as it happened, somebody was close. The soldiers whose +floundering Anne had heard were not Loveday's dragoons, but a troop of +the York Hussars, quite oblivious of her existence. They had passed on +out of the water, and instead of them there sat Festus Derriman alone on +his horse, and in plain clothes, the water reaching up to the animal's +belly, and Festus' heels elevated over the saddle to keep them out of the +stream, which threatened to wash rider and horse into the deep mill-head +just below. It was plainly he who had struck her lattice, for in a +moment he looked up, and their eyes met. Festus laughed loudly, and +slapped her window again; and just at that moment the dragoons began +prancing down the slope in review order. She could not but wait a minute +or two to see them pass. While doing so she was suddenly led to draw +back, drop the corner of the curtain, and blush privately in her room. +She had not only been seen by Festus Derriman, but by John Loveday, who, +riding along with his trumpet slung up behind him, had looked over his +shoulder at the phenomenon of Derriman beneath Anne's bedroom window and +seemed quite astounded at the sight. + +She was quite vexed at the conjunction of incidents, and went no more to +the window till the dragoons had ridden far away and she had heard +Festus's horse laboriously wade on to dry land. When she looked out +there was nobody left but Miller Loveday, who usually stood in the garden +at this time of the morning to say a word or two to the soldiers, of whom +he already knew so many, and was in a fair way of knowing many more, from +the liberality with which he handed round mugs of cheering liquor +whenever parties of them walked that way. + +In the afternoon of this day Anne walked to a christening party at a +neighbour's in the adjoining parish of Springham, intending to walk home +again before it got dark; but there was a slight fall of rain towards +evening, and she was pressed by the people of the house to stay over the +night. With some hesitation she accepted their hospitality; but at ten +o'clock, when they were thinking of going to bed, they were startled by a +smart rap at the door, and on it being unbolted a man's form was seen in +the shadows outside. + +'Is Miss Garland here?' the visitor inquired, at which Anne suspended her +breath. + +'Yes,' said Anne's entertainer, warily. + +'Her mother is very anxious to know what's become of her. She promised +to come home.' To her great relief Anne recognized the voice as John +Loveday's, and not Festus Derriman's. + +'Yes, I did, Mr. Loveday,' said she, coming forward; 'but it rained, and +I thought my mother would guess where I was.' + +Loveday said with diffidence that it had not rained anything to speak of +at the camp, or at the mill, so that her mother was rather alarmed. + +'And she asked you to come for me?' Anne inquired. + +This was a question which the trumpet-major had been dreading during the +whole of his walk thither. 'Well, she didn't exactly ask me,' he said +rather lamely, but still in a manner to show that Mrs. Garland had +indirectly signified such to be her wish. In reality Mrs. Garland had +not addressed him at all on the subject. She had merely spoken to his +father on finding that her daughter did not return, and received an +assurance from the miller that the precious girl was doubtless quite +safe. John heard of this inquiry, and, having a pass that evening, +resolved to relieve Mrs. Garland's mind on his own responsibility. Ever +since his morning view of Festus under her window he had been on thorns +of anxiety, and his thrilling hope now was that she would walk back with +him. + +He shifted his foot nervously as he made the bold request. Anne felt at +once that she would go. There was nobody in the world whose care she +would more readily be under than the trumpet-major's in a case like the +present. He was their nearest neighbour's son, and she had liked his +single-minded ingenuousness from the first moment of his return home. + +When they had started on their walk, Anne said in a practical way, to +show that there was no sentiment whatever in her acceptance of his +company, 'Mother was much alarmed about me, perhaps?' + +'Yes; she was uneasy,' he said; and then was compelled by conscience to +make a clean breast of it. 'I know she was uneasy, because my father +said so. But I did not see her myself. The truth is, she doesn't know I +am come.' + +Anne now saw how the matter stood; but she was not offended with him. +What woman could have been? They walked on in silence, the respectful +trumpet-major keeping a yard off on her right as precisely as if that +measure had been fixed between them. She had a great feeling of civility +toward him this evening, and spoke again. 'I often hear your trumpeters +blowing the calls. They do it beautifully, I think.' + +'Pretty fair; they might do better,' said he, as one too well-mannered to +make much of an accomplishment in which he had a hand. + +'And you taught them how to do it?' + +'Yes, I taught them.' + +'It must require wonderful practice to get them into the way of beginning +and finishing so exactly at one time. It is like one throat doing it +all. How came you to be a trumpeter, Mr. Loveday?' + +'Well, I took to it naturally when I was a little boy,' said he, betrayed +into quite a gushing state by her delightful interest. 'I used to make +trumpets of paper, eldersticks, eltrot stems, and even stinging-nettle +stalks, you know. Then father set me to keep the birds off that little +barley-ground of his, and gave me an old horn to frighten 'em with. I +learnt to blow that horn so that you could hear me for miles and miles. +Then he bought me a clarionet, and when I could play that I borrowed a +serpent, and I learned to play a tolerable bass. So when I 'listed I was +picked out for training as trumpeter at once.' + +'Of course you were.' + +'Sometimes, however, I wish I had never joined the army. My father gave +me a very fair education, and your father showed me how to draw horses--on +a slate, I mean. Yes, I ought to have done more than I have.' + +'What, did you know my father?' she asked with new interest. + +'O yes, for years. You were a little mite of a thing then; and you used +to cry when we big boys looked at you, and made pig's eyes at you, which +we did sometimes. Many and many a time have I stood by your poor father +while he worked. Ah, you don't remember much about him; but I do!' + +Anne remained thoughtful; and the moon broke from behind the clouds, +lighting up the wet foliage with a twinkling brightness, and lending to +each of the trumpet-major's buttons and spurs a little ray of its own. +They had come to Oxwell park gate, and he said, 'Do you like going +across, or round by the lane?' + +'We may as well go by the nearest road,' said Anne. + +They entered the park, following the half-obliterated drive till they +came almost opposite the hall, when they entered a footpath leading on to +the village. While hereabout they heard a shout, or chorus of +exclamation, apparently from within the walls of the dark buildings near +them. + +'What was that?' said Anne. + +'I don't know,' said her companion. 'I'll go and see.' + +He went round the intervening swamp of watercress and brooklime which had +once been the fish-pond, crossed by a culvert the trickling brook that +still flowed that way, and advanced to the wall of the house. Boisterous +noises were resounding from within, and he was tempted to go round the +corner, where the low windows were, and look through a chink into the +room whence the sounds proceeded. + +It was the room in which the owner dined--traditionally called the great +parlour--and within it sat about a dozen young men of the yeomanry +cavalry, one of them being Festus. They were drinking, laughing, +singing, thumping their fists on the tables, and enjoying themselves in +the very perfection of confusion. The candles, blown by the breeze from +the partly opened window, had guttered into coffin handles and shrouds, +and, choked by their long black wicks for want of snuffing, gave out a +smoky yellow light. One of the young men might possibly have been in a +maudlin state, for he had his arm round the neck of his next neighbour. +Another was making an incoherent speech to which nobody was listening. +Some of their faces were red, some were sallow; some were sleepy, some +wide awake. The only one among them who appeared in his usual frame of +mind was Festus, whose huge, burly form rose at the head of the table, +enjoying with a serene and triumphant aspect the difference between his +own condition and that of his neighbours. While the trumpet-major +looked, a young woman, niece of Anthony Cripplestraw, and one of Uncle +Benjy's servants, was called in by one of the crew, and much against her +will a fiddle was placed in her hands, from which they made her produce +discordant screeches. + +The absence of Uncle Benjy had, in fact, been contrived by young Derriman +that he might make use of the hall on his own account. Cripplestraw had +been left in charge, and Festus had found no difficulty in forcing from +that dependent the keys of whatever he required. John Loveday turned his +eyes from the scene to the neighbouring moonlit path, where Anne still +stood waiting. Then he looked into the room, then at Anne again. It was +an opportunity of advancing his own cause with her by exposing Festus, +for whom he began to entertain hostile feelings of no mean force. + +'No; I can't do it,' he said. ''Tis underhand. Let things take their +chance.' + +He moved away, and then perceived that Anne, tired of waiting, had +crossed the stream, and almost come up with him. + +'What is the noise about?' she said. + +'There's company in the house,' said Loveday. + +'Company? Farmer Derriman is not at home,' said Anne, and went on to the +window whence the rays of light leaked out, the trumpet-major standing +where he was. He saw her face enter the beam of candlelight, stay there +for a moment, and quickly withdraw. She came back to him at once. 'Let +us go on,' she said. + +Loveday imagined from her tone that she must have an interest in +Derriman, and said sadly, 'You blame me for going across to the window, +and leading you to follow me.' + +'Not a bit,' said Anne, seeing his mistake as to the state of her heart, +and being rather angry with him for it. 'I think it was most natural, +considering the noise.' + +Silence again. 'Derriman is sober as a judge,' said Loveday, as they +turned to go. 'It was only the others who were noisy.' + +'Whether he is sober or not is nothing whatever to me,' said Anne. + +'Of course not. I know it,' said the trumpet-major, in accents +expressing unhappiness at her somewhat curt tone, and some doubt of her +assurance. + +Before they had emerged from the shadow of the hall some persons were +seen moving along the road. Loveday was for going on just the same; but +Anne, from a shy feeling that it was as well not to be seen walking alone +with a man who was not her lover, said-- + +'Mr. Loveday, let us wait here a minute till they have passed.' + +On nearer view the group was seen to comprise a man on a piebald horse, +and another man walking beside him. When they were opposite the house +they halted, and the rider dismounted, whereupon a dispute between him +and the other man ensued, apparently on a question of money. + +''Tis old Mr. Derriman come home!' said Anne. 'He has hired that horse +from the bathing-machine to bring him. Only fancy!' + +Before they had gone many steps further the farmer and his companion had +ended their dispute, and the latter mounted the horse and cantered away, +Uncle Benjy coming on to the house at a nimble pace. As soon as he +observed Loveday and Anne, he fell into a feebler gait; when they came up +he recognized Anne. + +'And you have torn yourself away from King George's Esplanade so soon, +Farmer Derriman?' said she. + +'Yes, faith! I couldn't bide at such a ruination place,' said the +farmer. 'Your hand in your pocket every minute of the day. 'Tis a +shilling for this, half-a-crown for that; if you only eat one egg, or +even a poor windfall of an apple, you've got to pay; and a bunch o' +radishes is a halfpenny, and a quart o' cider a good tuppence +three-farthings at lowest reckoning. Nothing without paying! I couldn't +even get a ride homeward upon that screw without the man wanting a +shilling for it, when my weight didn't take a penny out of the beast. +I've saved a penn'orth or so of shoeleather to be sure; but the saddle +was so rough wi' patches that 'a took twopence out of the seat of my best +breeches. King George hev' ruined the town for other folks. More than +that, my nephew promised to come there to-morrow to see me, and if I had +stayed I must have treated en. Hey--what's that?' + +It was a shout from within the walls of the building, and Loveday said-- + +'Your nephew is here, and has company.' + +'My nephew _here_?' gasped the old man. 'Good folks, will you come up to +the door with me? I mean--hee--hee--just for company! Dear me, I +thought my house was as quiet as a church?' + +They went back to the window, and the farmer looked in, his mouth falling +apart to a greater width at the corners than in the middle, and his +fingers assuming a state of radiation. + +''Tis my best silver tankards they've got, that I've never used! O! 'tis +my strong beer! 'Tis eight candles guttering away, when I've used +nothing but twenties myself for the last half-year!' + +'You didn't know he was here, then?' said Loveday. + +'O no!' said the farmer, shaking his head half-way. 'Nothing's known to +poor I! There's my best rummers jingling as careless as if 'twas tin +cups; and my table scratched, and my chairs wrenched out of joint. See +how they tilt 'em on the two back legs--and that's ruin to a chair! Ah! +when I be gone he won't find another old man to make such work with, and +provide goods for his breaking, and house-room and drink for his tear- +brass set!' + +'Comrades and fellow-soldiers,' said Festus to the hot farmers and yeomen +he entertained within, 'as we have vowed to brave danger and death +together, so we'll share the couch of peace. You shall sleep here to- +night, for it is getting late. My scram blue-vinnied gallicrow of an +uncle takes care that there shan't be much comfort in the house, but you +can curl up on the furniture if beds run short. As for my sleep, it +won't be much. I'm melancholy! A woman has, I may say, got my heart in +her pocket, and I have hers in mine. She's not much--to other folk, I +mean--but she is to me. The little thing came in my way, and conquered +me. I fancy that simple girl! I ought to have looked higher--I know it; +what of that? 'Tis a fate that may happen to the greatest men.' + +'Whash her name?' said one of the warriors, whose head occasionally +drooped upon his epaulettes, and whose eyes fell together in the casual +manner characteristic of the tired soldier. (It was really Farmer Stubb, +of Duddle Hole.) + +'Her name? Well, 'tis spelt, A, N--but, by gad, I won't give ye her name +here in company. She don't live a hundred miles off, however, and she +wears the prettiest cap-ribbons you ever saw. Well, well, 'tis weakness! +She has little, and I have much; but I do adore that girl, in spite of +myself!' + +'Let's go on,' said Anne. + +'Prithee stand by an old man till he's got into his house!' implored +Uncle Benjy. 'I only ask ye to bide within call. Stand back under the +trees, and I'll do my poor best to give no trouble.' + +'I'll stand by you for half-an-hour, sir,' said Loveday. 'After that I +must bolt to camp.' + +'Very well; bide back there under the trees,' said Uncle Benjy. 'I don't +want to spite 'em?' + +'You'll wait a few minutes, just to see if he gets in?' said the trumpet- +major to Anne as they retired from the old man. + +'I want to get home,' said Anne anxiously. + +When they had quite receded behind the tree-trunks and he stood alone, +Uncle Benjy, to their surprise, set up a loud shout, altogether beyond +the imagined power of his lungs. + +'Man a-lost! man a-lost!' he cried, repeating the exclamation several +times; and then ran and hid himself behind a corner of the building. Soon +the door opened, and Festus and his guests came tumbling out upon the +green. + +''Tis our duty to help folks in distress,' said Festus. 'Man a-lost, +where are you?' + +''Twas across there,' said one of his friends. + +'No! 'twas here,' said another. + +Meanwhile Uncle Benjy, coming from his hiding-place, had scampered with +the quickness of a boy up to the door they had quitted, and slipped in. +In a moment the door flew together, and Anne heard him bolting and +barring it inside. The revellers, however, did not notice this, and came +on towards the spot where the trumpet-major and Anne were standing. + +'Here's succour at hand, friends,' said Festus. 'We are all king's men; +do not fear us.' + +'Thank you,' said Loveday; 'so are we.' He explained in two words that +they were not the distressed traveller who had cried out, and turned to +go on. + +''Tis she! my life, 'tis she said Festus, now first recognizing Anne. +'Fair Anne, I will not part from you till I see you safe at your own dear +door.' + +'She's in my hands,' said Loveday civilly, though not without firmness, +'so it is not required, thank you.' + +'Man, had I but my sword--' + +'Come,' said Loveday, 'I don't want to quarrel. Let's put it to her. +Whichever of us she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss Anne, +which?' + +Anne would much rather have gone home alone, but seeing the remainder of +the yeomanry party staggering up she thought it best to secure a +protector of some kind. How to choose one without offending the other +and provoking a quarrel was the difficulty. + +'You must both walk home with me,' she adroitly said, 'one on one side, +and one on the other. And if you are not quite civil to one another all +the time, I'll never speak to either of you again.' + +They agreed to the terms, and the other yeomen arriving at this time said +they would go also as rearguard. + +'Very well,' said Anne. 'Now go and get your hats, and don't be long.' + +'Ah, yes; our hats,' said the yeomanry, whose heads were so hot that they +had forgotten their nakedness till then. + +'You'll wait till we've got 'em--we won't be a moment,' said Festus +eagerly. + +Anne and Loveday said yes, and Festus ran back to the house, followed by +all his band. + +'Now let's run and leave 'em,' said Anne, when they were out of hearing. + +'But we've promised to wait!' said the trumpet-major in surprise. + +'Promised to wait!' said Anne indignantly. 'As if one ought to keep such +a promise to drunken men as that. You can do as you like, I shall go.' + +'It is hardly fair to leave the chaps,' said Loveday reluctantly, and +looking back at them. But she heard no more, and flitting off under the +trees, was soon lost to his sight. + +Festus and the rest had by this time reached Uncle Benjy's door, which +they were discomfited and astonished to find closed. They began to +knock, and then to kick at the venerable timber, till the old man's head, +crowned with a tasselled nightcap, appeared at an upper window, followed +by his shoulders, with apparently nothing on but his shirt, though it was +in truth a sheet thrown over his coat. + +'Fie, fie upon ye all for making such a hullaballoo at a weak old man's +door,' he said, yawning. 'What's in ye to rouse honest folks at this +time o' night?' + +'Hang me--why--it's Uncle Benjy! Haw--haw--haw?' said Festus. 'Nunc, +why how the devil's this? 'Tis I--Festus--wanting to come in.' + +'O no, no, my clever man, whoever you be!' said Uncle Benjy in a tone of +incredulous integrity. 'My nephew, dear boy, is miles away at quarters, +and sound asleep by this time, as becomes a good soldier. That story +won't do to-night, my man, not at all.' + +'Upon my soul 'tis I,' said Festus. + +'Not to-night, my man; not to-night! Anthony, bring my blunderbuss,' +said the farmer, turning and addressing nobody inside the room. + +'Let's break in the window-shutters,' said one of the others. + +'My wig, and we will!' said Festus. 'What a trick of the old man!' + +'Get some big stones,' said the yeomen, searching under the wall. + +'No; forbear, forbear,' said Festus, beginning to be frightened at the +spirit he had raised. 'I forget; we should drive him into fits, for he's +subject to 'em, and then perhaps 'twould be manslaughter. Comrades, we +must march! No, we'll lie in the barn. I'll see into this, take my word +for 't. Our honour is at stake. Now let's back to see my beauty home.' + +'We can't, as we hav'n't got our hats,' said one of his +fellow-troopers--in domestic life Jacob Noakes, of Muckleford Farm. + +'No more we can,' said Festus, in a melancholy tone. 'But I must go to +her and tell her the reason. She pulls me in spite of all.' + +'She's gone. I saw her flee across park while we were knocking at the +door,' said another of the yeomanry. + +'Gone!' said Festus, grinding his teeth and putting himself into a rigid +shape. 'Then 'tis my enemy--he has tempted her away with him! But I am +a rich man, and he's poor, and rides the King's horse while I ride my +own. Could I but find that fellow, that regular, that common man, I +would--' + +'Yes?' said the trumpet-major, coming up behind him. + +'I,'--said Festus, starting round,--'I would seize him by the hand and +say, "Guard her; if you are my friend, guard her from all harm!"' + +'A good speech. And I will, too,' said Loveday heartily. + +'And now for shelter,' said Festus to his companions. + +They then unceremoniously left Loveday, without wishing him good-night, +and proceeded towards the barn. He crossed the park and ascended the +down to the camp, grieved that he had given Anne cause of complaint, and +fancying that she held him of slight account beside his wealthier rival. + + + + +X. THE MATCH-MAKING VIRTUES OF A DOUBLE GARDEN + + +Anne was so flurried by the military incidents attending her return home +that she was almost afraid to venture alone outside her mother's +premises. Moreover, the numerous soldiers, regular and otherwise, that +haunted Overcombe and its neighbourhood, were getting better acquainted +with the villagers, and the result was that they were always standing at +garden gates, walking in the orchards, or sitting gossiping just within +cottage doors, with the bowls of their tobacco-pipes thrust outside for +politeness' sake, that they might not defile the air of the household. +Being gentlemen of a gallant and most affectionate nature, they naturally +turned their heads and smiled if a pretty girl passed by, which was +rather disconcerting to the latter if she were unused to society. Every +belle in the village soon had a lover, and when the belles were all +allotted those who scarcely deserved that title had their turn, many of +the soldiers being not at all particular about half-an-inch of nose more +or less, a trifling deficiency of teeth, or a larger crop of freckles +than is customary in the Saxon race. Thus, with one and another, +courtship began to be practised in Overcombe on rather a large scale, and +the dispossessed young men who had been born in the place were left to +take their walks alone, where, instead of studying the works of nature, +they meditated gross outrages on the brave men who had been so good as to +visit their village. + +Anne watched these romantic proceedings from her window with much +interest, and when she saw how triumphantly other handsome girls of the +neighbourhood walked by on the gorgeous arms of Lieutenant Knockheelmann, +Cornet Flitzenhart, and Captain Klaspenkissen, of the thrilling York +Hussars, who swore the most picturesque foreign oaths, and had a +wonderful sort of estate or property called the Vaterland in their +country across the sea, she was filled with a sense of her own +loneliness. It made her think of things which she tried to forget, and +to look into a little drawer at something soft and brown that lay in a +curl there, wrapped in paper. At last she could bear it no longer, and +went downstairs. + +'Where are you going?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'To see the folks, because I am so gloomy!' + +'Certainly not at present, Anne.' + +'Why not, mother?' said Anne, blushing with an indefinite sense of being +very wicked. + +'Because you must not. I have been going to tell you several times not +to go into the street at this time of day. Why not walk in the morning? +There's young Mr. Derriman would be glad to--' + +'Don't mention him, mother, don't!' + +'Well then, dear, walk in the garden.' + +So poor Anne, who really had not the slightest wish to throw her heart +away upon a soldier, but merely wanted to displace old thoughts by new, +turned into the inner garden from day to day, and passed a good many +hours there, the pleasant birds singing to her, and the delightful +butterflies alighting on her hat, and the horrid ants running up her +stockings. + +This garden was undivided from Loveday's, the two having originally been +the single garden of the whole house. It was a quaint old place, +enclosed by a thorn hedge so shapely and dense from incessant clipping +that the mill-boy could walk along the top without sinking in--a feat +which he often performed as a means of filling out his day's work. The +soil within was of that intense fat blackness which is only seen after a +century of constant cultivation. The paths were grassed over, so that +people came and went upon them without being heard. The grass harboured +slugs, and on this account the miller was going to replace it by gravel +as soon as he had time; but as he had said this for thirty years without +doing it, the grass and the slugs seemed likely to remain. + +The miller's man attended to Mrs. Garland's piece of the garden as well +as to the larger portion, digging, planting, and weeding indifferently in +both, the miller observing with reason that it was not worth while for a +helpless widow lady to hire a man for her little plot when his man, +working alongside, could tend it without much addition to his labour. The +two households were on this account even more closely united in the +garden than within the mill. Out there they were almost one family, and +they talked from plot to plot with a zest and animation which Mrs. +Garland could never have anticipated when she first removed thither after +her husband's death. + +The lower half of the garden, farthest from the road, was the most snug +and sheltered part of this snug and sheltered enclosure, and it was well +watered as the land of Lot. Three small brooks, about a yard wide, ran +with a tinkling sound from side to side between the plots, crossing the +path under wood slabs laid as bridges, and passing out of the garden +through little tunnels in the hedge. The brooks were so far overhung at +their brinks by grass and garden produce that, had it not been for their +perpetual babbling, few would have noticed that they were there. This +was where Anne liked best to linger when her excursions became restricted +to her own premises; and in a spot of the garden not far removed the +trumpet-major loved to linger also. + +Having by virtue of his office no stable duty to perform, he came down +from the camp to the mill almost every day; and Anne, finding that he +adroitly walked and sat in his father's portion of the garden whenever +she did so in the other half, could not help smiling and speaking to him. +So his epaulettes and blue jacket, and Anne's yellow gipsy hat, were +often seen in different parts of the garden at the same time; but he +never intruded into her part of the enclosure, nor did she into +Loveday's. She always spoke to him when she saw him there, and he +replied in deep, firm accents across the gooseberry bushes, or through +the tall rows of flowering peas, as the case might be. He thus gave her +accounts at fifteen paces of his experiences in camp, in quarters, in +Flanders, and elsewhere; of the difference between line and column, of +forced marches, billeting, and such-like, together with his hopes of +promotion. Anne listened at first indifferently; but knowing no one else +so good-natured and experienced, she grew interested in him as in a +brother. By degrees his gold lace, buckles, and spurs lost all their +strangeness and were as familiar to her as her own clothes. + +At last Mrs. Garland noticed this growing friendship, and began to +despair of her motherly scheme of uniting Anne to the moneyed Festus. Why +she could not take prompt steps to check interference with her plans +arose partly from her nature, which was the reverse of managing, and +partly from a new emotional circumstance with which she found it +difficult to reckon. The near neighbourhood that had produced the +friendship of Anne for John Loveday was slowly effecting a warmer liking +between her mother and his father. + +Thus the month of July passed. The troop horses came with the regularity +of clockwork twice a day down to drink under her window, and, as the +weather grew hotter, kicked up their heels and shook their heads +furiously under the maddening sting of the dun-fly. The green leaves in +the garden became of a darker dye, the gooseberries ripened, and the +three brooks were reduced to half their winter volume. + +At length the earnest trumpet-major obtained Mrs. Garland's consent to +take her and her daughter to the camp, which they had not yet viewed from +any closer point than their own windows. So one afternoon they went, the +miller being one of the party. The villagers were by this time driving a +roaring trade with the soldiers, who purchased of them every description +of garden produce, milk, butter, and eggs at liberal prices. The figures +of these rural sutlers could be seen creeping up the slopes, laden like +bees, to a spot in the rear of the camp, where there was a kind of market- +place on the greensward. + +Mrs. Garland, Anne, and the miller were conducted from one place to +another, and on to the quarter where the soldiers' wives lived who had +not been able to get lodgings in the cottages near. The most sheltered +place had been chosen for them, and snug huts had been built for their +use by their husbands, of clods, hurdles, a little thatch, or whatever +they could lay hands on. The trumpet-major conducted his friends thence +to the large barn which had been appropriated as a hospital, and to the +cottage with its windows bricked up, that was used as the magazine; then +they inspected the lines of shining dark horses (each representing the +then high figure of two-and-twenty guineas purchase money), standing +patiently at the ropes which stretched from one picket-post to another, a +bank being thrown up in front of them as a protection at night. + +They passed on to the tents of the German Legion, a well-grown and rather +dandy set of men, with a poetical look about their faces which rendered +them interesting to feminine eyes. Hanoverians, Saxons, Prussians, +Swedes, Hungarians, and other foreigners were numbered in their ranks. +They were cleaning arms, which they leant carefully against a rail when +the work was complete. + +On their return they passed the mess-house, a temporary wooden building +with a brick chimney. As Anne and her companions went by, a group of +three or four of the hussars were standing at the door talking to a +dashing young man, who was expatiating on the qualities of a horse that +one was inclined to buy. Anne recognized Festus Derriman in the seller, +and Cripplestraw was trotting the animal up and down. As soon as she +caught the yeoman's eye he came forward, making some friendly remark to +the miller, and then turning to Miss Garland, who kept her eyes steadily +fixed on the distant landscape till he got so near that it was impossible +to do so longer. Festus looked from Anne to the trumpet-major, and from +the trumpet-major back to Anne, with a dark expression of face, as if he +suspected that there might be a tender understanding between them. + +'Are you offended with me?' he said to her in a low voice of repressed +resentment. + +'No,' said Anne. + +'When are you coming to the hall again?' + +'Never, perhaps.' + +'Nonsense, Anne,' said Mrs. Garland, who had come near, and smiled +pleasantly on Festus. 'You can go at any time, as usual.' + +'Let her come with me now, Mrs. Garland; I should be pleased to walk +along with her. My man can lead home the horse.' + +'Thank you, but I shall not come,' said Miss Anne coldly. + +The widow looked unhappily in her daughter's face, distressed between her +desire that Anne should encourage Festus, and her wish to consult Anne's +own feelings. + +'Leave her alone, leave her alone,' said Festus, his gaze blackening. +'Now I think of it I am glad she can't come with me, for I am engaged;' +and he stalked away. + +Anne moved on with her mother, young Loveday silently following, and they +began to descend the hill. + +'Well, where's Mr. Loveday?' asked Mrs. Garland. + +'Father's behind,' said John. + +Mrs. Garland looked behind her solicitously; and the miller, who had been +waiting for the event, beckoned to her. + +'I'll overtake you in a minute,' she said to the younger pair, and went +back, her colour, for some unaccountable reason, rising as she did so. +The miller and she then came on slowly together, conversing in very low +tones, and when they got to the bottom they stood still. Loveday and +Anne waited for them, saying but little to each other, for the rencounter +with Festus had damped the spirits of both. At last the widow's private +talk with Miller Loveday came to an end, and she hastened onward, the +miller going in another direction to meet a man on business. When she +reached the trumpet-major and Anne she was looking very bright and rather +flurried, and seemed sorry when Loveday said that he must leave them and +return to the camp. They parted in their usual friendly manner, and Anne +and her mother were left to walk the few remaining yards alone. + +'There, I've settled it,' said Mrs. Garland. 'Anne, what are you +thinking about? I have settled in my mind that it is all right.' + +'What's all right?' said Anne. + +'That you do not care for Derriman, and mean to encourage John Loveday. +What's all the world so long as folks are happy! Child, don't take any +notice of what I have said about Festus, and don't meet him any more.' + +'What a weathercock you are, mother! Why should you say that just now?' + +'It is easy to call me a weathercock,' said the matron, putting on the +look of a good woman; 'but I have reasoned it out, and at last, thank +God, I have got over my ambition. The Lovedays are our true and only +friends, and Mr. Festus Derriman, with all his money, is nothing to us at +all.' + +'But,' said Anne, 'what has made you change all of a sudden from what you +have said before?' + +'My feelings and my reason, which I am thankful for!' + +Anne knew that her mother's sentiments were naturally so versatile that +they could not be depended on for two days together; but it did not occur +to her for the moment that a change had been helped on in the present +case by a romantic talk between Mrs. Garland and the miller. But Mrs. +Garland could not keep the secret long. She chatted gaily as she walked, +and before they had entered the house she said, 'What do you think Mr +Loveday has been saying to me, dear Anne?' + +Anne did not know at all. + +'Why, he has asked me to marry him.' + + + + +XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY + + +To explain the miller's sudden proposal it is only necessary to go back +to that moment when Anne, Festus, and Mrs. Garland were talking together +on the down. John Loveday had fallen behind so as not to interfere with +a meeting in which he was decidedly superfluous; and his father, who +guessed the trumpet-major's secret, watched his face as he stood. John's +face was sad, and his eyes followed Mrs. Garland's encouraging manner to +Festus in a way which plainly said that every parting of her lips was +tribulation to him. The miller loved his son as much as any miller or +private gentleman could do, and he was pained to see John's gloom at such +a trivial circumstance. So what did he resolve but to help John there +and then by precipitating a matter which, had he himself been the only +person concerned, he would have delayed for another six months. + +He had long liked the society of his impulsive, tractable neighbour, Mrs. +Garland; had mentally taken her up and pondered her in connexion with the +question whether it would not be for the happiness of both if she were to +share his home, even though she was a little his superior in antecedents +and knowledge. In fact he loved her; not tragically, but to a very +creditable extent for his years; that is, next to his sons, Bob and John, +though he knew very well of that ploughed-ground appearance near the +corners of her once handsome eyes, and that the little depression in her +right cheek was not the lingering dimple it was poetically assumed to be, +but a result of the abstraction of some worn-out nether millstones within +the cheek by Rootle, the Budmouth man, who lived by such practices on the +heads of the elderly. But what of that, when he had lost two to each one +of hers, and exceeded her in age by some eight years! To do John a +service, then, he quickened his designs, and put the question to her +while they were standing under the eyes of the younger pair. + +Mrs. Garland, though she had been interested in the miller for a long +time, and had for a moment now and then thought on this question as far +as, 'Suppose he should, 'If he were to,' and so on, had never thought +much further; and she was really taken by surprise when the question +came. She answered without affectation that she would think over the +proposal; and thus they parted. + +Her mother's infirmity of purpose set Anne thinking, and she was suddenly +filled with a conviction that in such a case she ought to have some +purpose herself. Mrs. Garland's complacency at the miller's offer had, +in truth, amazed her. While her mother had held up her head, and +recommended Festus, it had seemed a very pretty thing to rebel; but the +pressure being removed an awful sense of her own responsibility took +possession of her mind. As there was no longer anybody to be wise or +ambitious for her, surely she should be wise and ambitious for herself, +discountenance her mother's attachment, and encourage Festus in his +addresses, for her own and her mother's good. There had been a time when +a Loveday thrilled her own heart; but that was long ago, before she had +thought of position or differences. To wake into cold daylight like +this, when and because her mother had gone into the land of romance, was +dreadful and new to her, and like an increase of years without living +them. + +But it was easier to think that she ought to marry the yeoman than to +take steps for doing it; and she went on living just as before, only with +a little more thoughtfulness in her eyes. + +Two days after the visit to the camp, when she was again in the garden, +Soldier Loveday said to her, at a distance of five rows of beans and a +parsley-bed-- + +'You have heard the news, Miss Garland?' + +'No,' said Anne, without looking up from a book she was reading. + +'The King is coming to-morrow.' + +'The King?' She looked up then. + +'Yes; to Gloucester Lodge; and he will pass this way. He can't arrive +till long past the middle of the night, if what they say is true, that he +is timed to change horses at Woodyates Inn--between Mid and South +Wessex--at twelve o'clock,' continued Loveday, encouraged by her interest +to cut off the parsley-bed from the distance between them. + +Miller Loveday came round the corner of the house. + +'Have ye heard about the King coming, Miss Maidy Anne?' he said. + +Anne said that she had just heard of it; and the trumpet-major, who +hardly welcomed his father at such a moment, explained what he knew of +the matter. + +'And you will go with your regiment to meet 'en, I suppose?' said old +Loveday. + +Young Loveday said that the men of the German Legion were to perform that +duty. And turning half from his father, and half towards Anne, he added, +in a tentative tone, that he thought he might get leave for the night, if +anybody would like to be taken to the top of the Ridgeway over which the +royal party must pass. + +Anne, knowing by this time of the budding hope in the gallant dragoon's +mind, and not wishing to encourage it, said, 'I don't want to go.' + +The miller looked disappointed as well as John. + +'Your mother might like to?' + +'Yes, I am going indoors, and I'll ask her if you wish me to,' said she. + +She went indoors and rather coldly told her mother of the proposal. Mrs. +Garland, though she had determined not to answer the miller's question on +matrimony just yet, was quite ready for this jaunt, and in spite of Anne +she sailed off at once to the garden to hear more about it. When she re- +entered, she said-- + +'Anne, I have not seen the King or the King's horses for these many +years; and I am going.' + +'Ah, it is well to be you, mother,' said Anne, in an elderly tone. + +'Then you won't come with us?' said Mrs. Garland, rather rebuffed. + +'I have very different things to think of,' said her daughter with +virtuous emphasis, 'than going to see sights at that time of night.' + +Mrs. Garland was sorry, but resolved to adhere to the arrangement. The +night came on; and it having gone abroad that the King would pass by the +road, many of the villagers went out to see the procession. When the two +Lovedays and Mrs. Garland were gone, Anne bolted the door for security, +and sat down to think again on her grave responsibilities in the choice +of a husband, now that her natural guardian could no longer be trusted. + +A knock came to the door. + +Anne's instinct was at once to be silent, that the comer might think the +family had retired. + +The knocking person, however, was not to be easily persuaded. He had in +fact seen rays of light over the top of the shutter, and, unable to get +an answer, went on to the door of the mill, which was still going, the +miller sometimes grinding all night when busy. The grinder accompanied +the stranger to Mrs. Garland's door. + +'The daughter is certainly at home, sir,' said the grinder. 'I'll go +round to t'other side, and see if she's there, Master Derriman.' + +'I want to take her out to see the King,' said Festus. + +Anne had started at the sound of the voice. No opportunity could have +been better for carrying out her new convictions on the disposal of her +hand. But in her mortal dislike of Festus, Anne forgot her principles, +and her idea of keeping herself above the Lovedays. Tossing on her hat +and blowing out the candle, she slipped out at the back door, and hastily +followed in the direction that her mother and the rest had taken. She +overtook them as they were beginning to climb the hill. + +'What! you have altered your mind after all?' said the widow. 'How came +you to do that, my dear?' + +'I thought I might as well come,' said Anne. + +'To be sure you did,' said the miller heartily. 'A good deal better than +biding at home there.' + +John said nothing, though she could almost see through the gloom how glad +he was that she had altered her mind. When they reached the ridge over +which the highway stretched they found many of their neighbours who had +got there before them idling on the grass border between the roadway and +the hedge, enjoying a sort of midnight picnic, which it was easy to do, +the air being still and dry. Some carriages were also standing near, +though most people of the district who possessed four wheels, or even +two, had driven into the town to await the King there. From this height +could be seen in the distance the position of the watering-place, an +additional number of lanterns, lamps, and candles having been lighted to- +night by the loyal burghers to grace the royal entry, if it should occur +before dawn. + +Mrs. Garland touched Anne's elbow several times as they walked, and the +young woman at last understood that this was meant as a hint to her to +take the trumpet-major's arm, which its owner was rather suggesting than +offering to her. Anne wondered what infatuation was possessing her +mother, declined to take the arm, and contrived to get in front with the +miller, who mostly kept in the van to guide the others' footsteps. The +trumpet-major was left with Mrs. Garland, and Anne's encouraging pursuit +of them induced him to say a few words to the former. + +'By your leave, ma'am, I'll speak to you on something that concerns my +mind very much indeed?' + +'Certainly.' + +'It is my wish to be allowed to pay my addresses to your daughter.' + +'I thought you meant that,' said Mrs. Garland simply. + +'And you'll not object?' + +'I shall leave it to her. I don't think she will agree, even if I do.' + +The soldier sighed, and seemed helpless. 'Well, I can but ask her,' he +said. + +The spot on which they had finally chosen to wait for the King was by a +field gate, whence the white road could be seen for a long distance +northwards by day, and some little distance now. They lingered and +lingered, but no King came to break the silence of that beautiful summer +night. As half-hour after half-hour glided by, and nobody came, Anne +began to get weary; she knew why her mother did not propose to go back, +and regretted the reason. She would have proposed it herself, but that +Mrs. Garland seemed so cheerful, and as wide awake as at noonday, so that +it was almost a cruelty to disturb her. + +The trumpet-major at last made up his mind, and tried to draw Anne into a +private conversation. The feeling which a week ago had been a vague and +piquant aspiration, was to-day altogether too lively for the reasoning of +this warm-hearted soldier to regulate. So he persevered in his intention +to catch her alone, and at last, in spite of her manoeuvres to the +contrary, he succeeded. The miller and Mrs. Garland had walked about +fifty yards further on, and Anne and himself were left standing by the +gate. + +But the gallant musician's soul was so much disturbed by tender +vibrations and by the sense of his presumption that he could not begin; +and it may be questioned if he would ever have broached the subject at +all, had not a distant church clock opportunely assisted him by striking +the hour of three. The trumpet-major heaved a breath of relief. + +'That clock strikes in G sharp,' he said. + +'Indeed--G sharp?' said Anne civilly. + +'Yes. 'Tis a fine-toned bell. I used to notice that note when I was a +boy.' + +'Did you--the very same?' + +'Yes; and since then I had a wager about that bell with the bandmaster of +the North Wessex Militia. He said the note was G; I said it wasn't. When +we found it G sharp we didn't know how to settle it.' + +'It is not a deep note for a clock.' + +'O no! The finest tenor bell about here is the bell of Peter's, +Casterbridge--in E flat. Tum-m-m-m--that's the note--tum-m-m-m.' The +trumpet-major sounded from far down his throat what he considered to be E +flat, with a parenthetic sense of luxury unquenchable even by his present +distraction. + +'Shall we go on to where my mother is?' said Anne, less impressed by the +beauty of the note than the trumpet-major himself was. + +'In one minute,' he said tremulously. 'Talking of music--I fear you +don't think the rank of a trumpet-major much to compare with your own?' + +'I do. I think a trumpet-major a very respectable man.' + +'I am glad to hear you say that. It is given out by the King's command +that trumpet-majors are to be considered respectable.' + +'Indeed! Then I am, by chance, more loyal than I thought for.' + +'I get a good deal a year extra to the trumpeters, because of my +position.' + +'That's very nice.' + +'And I am not supposed ever to drink with the trumpeters who serve +beneath me.' + +'Naturally.' + +'And, by the orders of the War Office, I am to exert over them (that's +the government word) exert over them full authority; and if any one +behaves towards me with the least impropriety, or neglects my orders, he +is to be confined and reported.' + +'It is really a dignified post,' she said, with, however, a reserve of +enthusiasm which was not altogether encouraging. + +'And of course some day I shall,' stammered the dragoon--'shall be in +rather a better position than I am at present.' + +'I am glad to hear it, Mr. Loveday.' + +'And in short, Mistress Anne,' continued John Loveday bravely and +desperately, 'may I pay court to you in the hope that--no, no, don't go +away!--you haven't heard yet--that you may make me the happiest of men; +not yet, but when peace is proclaimed and all is smooth and easy again? I +can't put it any better, though there's more to be explained.' + +'This is most awkward,' said Anne, evidently with pain. 'I cannot +possibly agree; believe me, Mr. Loveday, I cannot.' + +'But there's more than this. You would be surprised to see what snug +rooms the married trumpet- and sergeant-majors have in quarters.' + +'Barracks are not all; consider camp and war.' + +'That brings me to my strong point!' exclaimed the soldier hopefully. 'My +father is better off than most non-commissioned officers' fathers; and +there's always a home for you at his house in any emergency. I can tell +you privately that he has enough to keep us both, and if you wouldn't +hear of barracks, well, peace once established, I'd live at home as a +miller and farmer--next door to your own mother.' + +'My mother would be sure to object,' expostulated Anne. + +'No; she leaves it all to you.' + +'What! you have asked her?' said Anne, with surprise. + +'Yes. I thought it would not be honourable to act otherwise.' + +'That's very good of you,' said Anne, her face warming with a generous +sense of his straightforwardness. 'But my mother is so entirely ignorant +of a soldier's life, and the life of a soldier's wife--she is so simple +in all such matters, that I cannot listen to you any more readily for +what she may say.' + +'Then it is all over for me,' said the poor trumpet-major, wiping his +face and putting away his handkerchief with an air of finality. + +Anne was silent. Any woman who has ever tried will know without +explanation what an unpalatable task it is to dismiss, even when she does +not love him, a man who has all the natural and moral qualities she would +desire, and only fails in the social. Would-be lovers are not so +numerous, even with the best women, that the sacrifice of one can be felt +as other than a good thing wasted, in a world where there are few good +things. + +'You are not angry, Miss Garland?' said he, finding that she did not +speak. + +'O no. Don't let us say anything more about this now.' And she moved +on. + +When she drew near to the miller and her mother she perceived that they +were engaged in a conversation of that peculiar kind which is all the +more full and communicative from the fact of definitive words being few. +In short, here the game was succeeding which with herself had failed. It +was pretty clear from the symptoms, marks, tokens, telegraphs, and +general byplay between widower and widow, that Miller Loveday must have +again said to Mrs. Garland some such thing as he had said before, with +what result this time she did not know. + +As the situation was delicate, Anne halted awhile apart from them. The +trumpet-major, quite ignorant of how his cause was entered into by the +white-coated man in the distance (for his father had not yet told him of +his designs upon Mrs. Garland), did not advance, but stood still by the +gate, as though he were attending a princess, waiting till he should be +called up. Thus they lingered, and the day began to break. Mrs. Garland +and the miller took no heed of the time, and what it was bringing to +earth and sky, so occupied were they with themselves; but Anne in her +place and the trumpet-major in his, each in private thought of no bright +kind, watched the gradual glory of the east through all its tones and +changes. The world of birds and insects got lively, the blue and the +yellow and the gold of Loveday's uniform again became distinct; the sun +bored its way upward, the fields, the trees, and the distant landscape +kindled to flame, and the trumpet-major, backed by a lilac shadow as tall +as a steeple, blazed in the rays like a very god of war. + +It was half-past three o'clock. A short time after, a rattle of horses +and wheels reached their ears from the quarter in which they gazed, and +there appeared upon the white line of road a moving mass, which presently +ascended the hill and drew near. + +Then there arose a huzza from the few knots of watchers gathered there, +and they cried, 'Long live King Jarge!' The cortege passed abreast. It +consisted of three travelling-carriages, escorted by a detachment of the +German Legion. Anne was told to look in the first carriage--a +post-chariot drawn by four horses--for the King and Queen, and was +rewarded by seeing a profile reminding her of the current coin of the +realm; but as the party had been travelling all night, and the spectators +here gathered were few, none of the royal family looked out of the +carriage windows. It was said that the two elder princesses were in the +same carriage, but they remained invisible. The next vehicle, a coach +and four, contained more princesses, and the third some of their +attendants. + +'Thank God, I have seen my King!' said Mrs. Garland, when they had all +gone by. + +Nobody else expressed any thankfulness, for most of them had expected a +more pompous procession than the bucolic tastes of the King cared to +indulge in; and one old man said grimly that that sight of dusty old +leather coaches was not worth waiting for. Anne looked hither and +thither in the bright rays of the day, each of her eyes having a little +sun in it, which gave her glance a peculiar golden fire, and kindled the +brown curls grouped over her forehead to a yellow brilliancy, and made +single hairs, blown astray by the night, look like lacquered wires. She +was wondering if Festus were anywhere near, but she could not see him. + +Before they left the ridge they turned their attention towards the Royal +watering-place, which was visible at this place only as a portion of the +sea-shore, from which the night-mist was rolling slowly back. The sea +beyond was still wrapped in summer fog, the ships in the roads showing +through it as black spiders suspended in the air. While they looked and +walked a white jet of smoke burst from a spot which the miller knew to be +the battery in front of the King's residence, and then the report of guns +reached their ears. This announcement was answered by a salute from the +Castle of the adjoining Isle, and the ships in the neighbouring +anchorage. All the bells in the town began ringing. The King and his +family had arrived. + + + + +XII. HOW EVERYBODY GREAT AND SMALL CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE DOWNS + + +As the days went on, echoes of the life and bustle of the town reached +the ears of the quiet people in Overcombe hollow--exciting and moving +those unimportant natives as a ground-swell moves the weeds in a cave. +Travelling-carriages of all kinds and colours climbed and descended the +road that led towards the seaside borough. Some contained those +personages of the King's suite who had not kept pace with him in his +journey from Windsor; others were the coaches of aristocracy, big and +little, whom news of the King's arrival drew thither for their own +pleasure: so that the highway, as seen from the hills about Overcombe, +appeared like an ant-walk--a constant succession of dark spots creeping +along its surface at nearly uniform rates of progress, and all in one +direction. + +The traffic and intelligence between camp and town passed in a measure +over the villagers' heads. It being summer time the miller was much +occupied with business, and the trumpet-major was too constantly engaged +in marching between the camp and Gloucester Lodge with the rest of the +dragoons to bring his friends any news for some days. + +At last he sent a message that there was to be a review on the downs by +the King, and that it was fixed for the day following. This information +soon spread through the village and country round, and next morning the +whole population of Overcombe--except two or three very old men and +women, a few babies and their nurses, a cripple, and Corporal +Tullidge--ascended the slope with the crowds from afar, and awaited the +events of the day. + +The miller wore his best coat on this occasion, which meant a good deal. +An Overcombe man in those days would have a best coat, and keep it as a +best coat half his life. The miller's had seen five and twenty summers +chiefly through the chinks of a clothes-box, and was not at all shabby as +yet, though getting singular. But that could not be helped; common coats +and best coats were distinct species, and never interchangeable. Living +so near the scene of the review he walked up the hill, accompanied by +Mrs. Garland and Anne as usual. + +It was a clear day, with little wind stirring, and the view from the +downs, one of the most extensive in the county, was unclouded. The eye +of any observer who cared for such things swept over the wave-washed +town, and the bay beyond, and the Isle, with its pebble bank, lying on +the sea to the left of these, like a great crouching animal tethered to +the mainland. On the extreme east of the marine horizon, St. Aldhelm's +Head closed the scene, the sea to the southward of that point glaring +like a mirror under the sun. Inland could be seen Badbury Rings, where a +beacon had been recently erected; and nearer, Rainbarrow, on Egdon Heath, +where another stood: farther to the left Bulbarrow, where there was yet +another. Not far from this came Nettlecombe Tout; to the west, Dogberry +Hill, and Black'on near to the foreground, the beacon thereon being built +of furze faggots thatched with straw, and standing on the spot where the +monument now raises its head. + +At nine o'clock the troops marched upon the ground--some from the camps +in the vicinity, and some from quarters in the different towns round +about. The approaches to the down were blocked with carriages of all +descriptions, ages, and colours, and with pedestrians of every class. At +ten the royal personages were said to be drawing near, and soon after the +King, accompanied by the Dukes of Cambridge and Cumberland, and a couple +of generals, appeared on horseback, wearing a round hat turned up at the +side, with a cockade and military feather. (Sensation among the crowd.) +Then the Queen and three of the princesses entered the field in a great +coach drawn by six beautiful cream-coloured horses. Another coach, with +four horses of the same sort, brought the two remaining princesses. +(Confused acclamations, 'There's King Jarge!' 'That's Queen Sharlett!' +'Princess 'Lizabeth!' 'Princesses Sophiar and Meelyer!' etc., from the +surrounding spectators.) + +Anne and her party were fortunate enough to secure a position on the top +of one of the barrows which rose here and there on the down; and the +miller having gallantly constructed a little cairn of flints, he placed +the two women thereon, by which means they were enabled to see over the +heads, horses, and coaches of the multitudes below and around. At the +march-past the miller's eye, which had been wandering about for the +purpose, discovered his son in his place by the trumpeters, who had moved +forwards in two ranks, and were sounding the march. + +'That's John!' he cried to the widow. 'His trumpet-sling is of two +colours, d'ye see; and the others be plain.' + +Mrs. Garland too saw him now, and enthusiastically admired him from her +hands upwards, and Anne silently did the same. But before the young +woman's eyes had quite left the trumpet-major they fell upon the figure +of Yeoman Festus riding with his troop, and keeping his face at a medium +between haughtiness and mere bravery. He certainly looked as soldierly +as any of his own corps, and felt more soldierly than half-a-dozen, as +anybody could see by observing him. Anne got behind the miller, in case +Festus should discover her, and, regardless of his monarch, rush upon her +in a rage with, 'Why the devil did you run away from me that night--hey, +madam?' But she resolved to think no more of him just now, and to stick +to Loveday, who was her mother's friend. In this she was helped by the +stirring tones which burst from the latter gentleman and his subordinates +from time to time. + +'Well,' said the miller complacently, 'there's few of more consequence in +a regiment than a trumpeter. He's the chap that tells 'em what to do, +after all. Hey, Mrs. Garland?' + +'So he is, miller,' said she. + +'They could no more do without Jack and his men than they could without +generals.' + +'Indeed they could not,' said Mrs. Garland again, in a tone of pleasant +agreement with any one in Great Britain or Ireland. + +It was said that the line that day was three miles long, reaching from +the high ground on the right of where the people stood to the turnpike +road on the left. After the review came a sham fight, during which +action the crowd dispersed more widely over the downs, enabling Widow +Garland to get still clearer glimpses of the King, and his handsome +charger, and the head of the Queen, and the elbows and shoulders of the +princesses in the carriages, and fractional parts of General Garth and +the Duke of Cumberland; which sights gave her great gratification. She +tugged at her daughter at every opportunity, exclaiming, 'Now you can see +his feather!' 'There's her hat!' 'There's her Majesty's India muslin +shawl!' in a minor form of ecstasy, that made the miller think her more +girlish and animated than her daughter Anne. + +In those military manoeuvres the miller followed the fortunes of one man; +Anne Garland of two. The spectators, who, unlike our party, had no +personal interest in the soldiery, saw only troops and battalions in the +concrete, straight lines of red, straight lines of blue, white lines +formed of innumerable knee-breeches, black lines formed of many gaiters, +coming and going in kaleidoscopic change. Who thought of every point in +the line as an isolated man, each dwelling all to himself in the +hermitage of his own mind? One person did, a young man far removed from +the barrow where the Garlands and Miller Loveday stood. The natural +expression of his face was somewhat obscured by the bronzing effects of +rough weather, but the lines of his mouth showed that affectionate +impulses were strong within him--perhaps stronger than judgment well +could regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, and was +plainly a seafaring man. + +Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on which the +miller had established himself, a broad-brimmed tradesman was elbowing +his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday from the base of the barrow, and +beckoned to attract his attention. Loveday went halfway down, and the +other came up as near as he could. + +'Miller,' said the man, 'a letter has been lying at the post-office for +you for the last three days. If I had known that I should see ye here +I'd have brought it along with me.' + +The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday returning +to the summit. 'What a very strange thing!' he said to Mrs. Garland, who +had looked inquiringly at his face, now very grave. 'That was Budmouth +postmaster, and he says there's a letter for me. Ah, I now call to mind +that there _was_ a letter in the candle three days ago this very night--a +large red one; but foolish-like I thought nothing o't. Who _can_ that +letter be from?' + +A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even of the +miller's respectable standing, that Loveday thenceforward was thrown into +a fit of abstraction which prevented his seeing any more of the sham +fight, or the people, or the King. Mrs. Garland imbibed some of his +concern, and suggested that the letter might come from his son Robert. + +'I should naturally have thought that,' said Miller Loveday; 'but he +wrote to me only two months ago, and his brother John heard from him +within the last four weeks, when he was just about starting on another +voyage. If you'll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma'am, I'll see if there's +any Overcombe man here who is going to Budmouth to-day, so that I may get +the letter by night-time. I cannot possibly go myself.' + +So Mr. Loveday left them for awhile; and as they were so near home Mrs. +Garland did not wait on the barrow for him to come back, but walked about +with Anne a little time, until they should be disposed to trot down the +slope to their own door. They listened to a man who was offering one +guinea to receive ten in case Buonaparte should be killed in three +months, and to other entertainments of that nature, which at this time +were not rare. Once during their peregrination the eyes of the sailor +before-mentioned fell upon Anne; but he glanced over her and passed her +unheedingly by. Loveday the elder was at this time on the other side of +the line, looking for a messenger to the town. At twelve o'clock the +review was over, and the King and his family left the hill. The troops +then cleared off the field, the spectators followed, and by one o'clock +the downs were again bare. + +They still spread their grassy surface to the sun as on that beautiful +morning not, historically speaking, so very long ago; but the King and +his fifteen thousand armed men, the horses, the bands of music, the +princesses, the cream-coloured teams--the gorgeous centre-piece, in +short, to which the downs were but the mere mount or margin--how entirely +have they all passed and gone!--lying scattered about the world as +military and other dust, some at Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, +Toulouse, and Waterloo; some in home churchyards; and a few small +handfuls in royal vaults. + +In the afternoon John Loveday, lightened of his trumpet and trappings, +appeared at the old mill-house door, and beheld Anne standing at hers. + +'I saw you, Miss Garland,' said the soldier gaily. + +'Where was I?' said she, smiling. + +'On the top of the big mound--to the right of the King.' + +'And I saw you; lots of times,' she rejoined. + +Loveday seemed pleased. 'Did you really take the trouble to find me? +That was very good of you.' + +'Her eyes followed you everywhere,' said Mrs. Garland from an upper +window. + +'Of course I looked at the dragoons most,' said Anne, disconcerted. 'And +when I looked at them my eyes naturally fell upon the trumpets. I looked +at the dragoons generally, no more.' + +She did not mean to show any vexation to the trumpet-major, but he +fancied otherwise, and stood repressed. The situation was relieved by +the arrival of the miller, still looking serious. + +'I am very much concerned, John; I did not go to the review for nothing. +There's a letter a-waiting for me at Budmouth, and I must get it before +bedtime, or I shan't sleep a wink.' + +'I'll go, of course,' said John; 'and perhaps Miss Garland would like to +see what's doing there to-day? Everybody is gone or going; the road is +like a fair.' + +He spoke pleadingly, but Anne was not won to assent. + +'You can drive in the gig; 'twill do Blossom good,' said the miller. + +'Let David drive Miss Garland,' said the trumpet-major, not wishing to +coerce her; 'I would just as soon walk.' + +Anne joyfully welcomed this arrangement, and a time was fixed for the +start. + + + + +XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD + + +In the afternoon they drove off, John Loveday being nowhere visible. All +along the road they passed and were overtaken by vehicles of all +descriptions going in the same direction; among them the extraordinary +machines which had been invented for the conveyance of troops to any +point of the coast on which the enemy should land; they consisted of four +boards placed across a sort of trolly, thirty men of the volunteer +companies riding on each. + +The popular Georgian watering-place was in a paroxysm of gaiety. The +town was quite overpowered by the country round, much to the town's +delight and profit. The fear of invasion was such that six frigates lay +in the roads to ensure the safety of the royal family, and from the +regiments of horse and foot quartered at the barracks, or encamped on the +hills round about, a picket of a thousand men mounted guard every day in +front of Gloucester Lodge, where the King resided. When Anne and her +attendant reached this point, which they did on foot, stabling the horse +on the outskirts of the town, it was about six o'clock. The King was on +the Esplanade, and the soldiers were just marching past to mount guard. +The band formed in front of the King, and all the officers saluted as +they went by. + +Anne now felt herself close to and looking into the stream of recorded +history, within whose banks the littlest things are great, and outside +which she and the general bulk of the human race were content to live on +as an unreckoned, unheeded superfluity. + +When she turned from her interested gaze at this scene, there stood John +Loveday. She had had a presentiment that he would turn up in this +mysterious way. It was marvellous that he could have got there so +quickly; but there he was--not looking at the King, or at the crowd, but +waiting for the turn of her head. + +'Trumpet-major, I didn't see you,' said Anne demurely. 'How is it that +your regiment is not marching past?' + +'We take it by turns, and it is not our turn,' said Loveday. + +She wanted to know then if they were afraid that the King would be +carried off by the First Consul. Yes, Loveday told her; and his Majesty +was rather venturesome. A day or two before he had gone so far to sea +that he was nearly caught by some of the enemy's cruisers. 'He is +anxious to fight Boney single-handed,' he said. + +'What a good, brave King!' said Anne. + +Loveday seemed anxious to come to more personal matters. 'Will you let +me take you round to the other side, where you can see better?' he asked. +'The Queen and the princesses are at the window.' + +Anne passively assented. 'David, wait here for me,' she said; 'I shall +be back again in a few minutes.' + +The trumpet-major then led her off triumphantly, and they skirted the +crowd and came round on the side towards the sands. He told her +everything he could think of, military and civil, to which Anne returned +pretty syllables and parenthetic words about the colour of the sea and +the curl of the foam--a way of speaking that moved the soldier's heart +even more than long and direct speeches would have done. + +'And that other thing I asked you?' he ventured to say at last. + +'We won't speak of it.' + +'You don't dislike me?' + +'O no!' she said, gazing at the bathing-machines, digging children, and +other common objects of the seashore, as if her interest lay there rather +than with him. + +'But I am not worthy of the daughter of a genteel professional man--that's +what you mean?' + +'There's something more than worthiness required in such cases, you +know,' she said, still without calling her mind away from surrounding +scenes. 'Ah, there are the Queen and princesses at the window!' + +'Something more?' + +'Well, since you will make me speak, I mean the woman ought to love the +man.' + +The trumpet-major seemed to be less concerned about this than about her +supposed superiority. 'If it were all right on that point, would you +mind the other?' he asked, like a man who knows he is too persistent, yet +who cannot be still. + +'How can I say, when I don't know? What a pretty chip hat the elder +princess wears?' + +Her companion's general disappointment extended over him almost to his +lace and his plume. 'Your mother said, you know, Miss Anne--' + +'Yes, that's the worst of it,' she said. 'Let us go back to David; I +have seen all I want to see, Mr. Loveday.' + +The mass of the people had by this time noticed the Queen and princesses +at the window, and raised a cheer, to which the ladies waved their +embroidered handkerchiefs. Anne went back towards the pavement with her +trumpet-major, whom all the girls envied her, so fine-looking a soldier +was he; and not only for that, but because it was well known that he was +not a soldier from necessity, but from patriotism, his father having +repeatedly offered to set him up in business: his artistic taste in +preferring a horse and uniform to a dirty, rumbling flour-mill was +admired by all. She, too, had a very nice appearance in her best clothes +as she walked along--the sarcenet hat, muslin shawl, and tight-sleeved +gown being of the newest Overcombe fashion, that was only about a year +old in the adjoining town, and in London three or four. She could not be +harsh to Loveday and dismiss him curtly, for his musical pursuits had +refined him, educated him, and made him quite poetical. To-day he had +been particularly well-mannered and tender; so, instead of answering, +'Never speak to me like this again,' she merely put him off with a 'Let +us go back to David.' + +When they reached the place where they had left him David was gone. + +Anne was now positively vexed. 'What _shall_ I do?' she said. + +'He's only gone to drink the King's health,' said Loveday, who had +privately given David the money for performing that operation. 'Depend +upon it, he'll be back soon.' + +'Will you go and find him?' said she, with intense propriety in her looks +and tone. + +'I will,' said Loveday reluctantly; and he went. + +Anne stood still. She could now escape her gallant friend, for, although +the distance was long, it was not impossible to walk home. On the other +hand, Loveday was a good and sincere fellow, for whom she had almost a +brotherly feeling, and she shrank from such a trick. While she stood and +mused, scarcely heeding the music, the marching of the soldiers, the +King, the dukes, the brilliant staff, the attendants, and the happy +groups of people, her eyes fell upon the ground. + +Before her she saw a flower lying--a crimson sweet-william--fresh and +uninjured. An instinctive wish to save it from destruction by the +passengers' feet led her to pick it up; and then, moved by a sudden self- +consciousness, she looked around. She was standing before an inn, and +from an upper window Festus Derriman was leaning with two or three +kindred spirits of his cut and kind. He nodded eagerly, and signified to +her that he had thrown the flower. + +What should she do? To throw it away would seem stupid, and to keep it +was awkward. She held it between her finger and thumb, twirled it round +on its axis and twirled it back again, regarding and yet not examining +it. Just then she saw the trumpet-major coming back. + +'I can't find David anywhere,' he said; and his heart was not sorry as he +said it. + +Anne was still holding out the sweet-william as if about to drop it, and, +scarcely knowing what she did under the distressing sense that she was +watched, she offered the flower to Loveday. + +His face brightened with pleasure as he took it. 'Thank you, indeed,' he +said. + +Then Anne saw what a misleading blunder she had committed towards Loveday +in playing to the yeoman. Perhaps she had sown the seeds of a quarrel. + +'It was not my sweet-william,' she said hastily; 'it was lying on the +ground. I don't mean anything by giving it to you.' + +'But I'll keep it all the same,' said the innocent soldier, as if he knew +a good deal about womankind; and he put the flower carefully inside his +jacket, between his white waistcoat and his heart. + +Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in the face, +rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a turnip-lantern. + +'Let us go away,' said Anne timorously. + +'I'll see you safe to your own door, depend upon me,' said Loveday. +'But--I had near forgot--there's father's letter, that he's so anxiously +waiting for! Will you come with me to the post-office? Then I'll take +you straight home.' + +Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad to be off +anywhere; so she accepted the suggestion, and they went along the parade +together. + +Loveday set this down as a proof of Anne's relenting. Thus in joyful +spirits he entered the office, paid the postage, and received the letter. + +'It is from Bob, after all!' he said. 'Father told me to read it at +once, in case of bad news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a moment.' He +broke the seal and read, Anne standing silently by. + +'He is coming home _to be married_,' said the trumpet-major, without +looking up. + +Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her face at his +words, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her rather paler than +before. She disguised her agitation and then overcame it, Loveday +observing nothing of this emotional performance. + +'As far as I can understand he will be here Saturday,' he said. + +'Indeed!' said Anne quite calmly. 'And who is he going to marry?' + +'That I don't know,' said John, turning the letter about. 'The woman is +a stranger.' + +At this moment the miller entered the office hastily. + +'Come, John,' he cried, 'I have been waiting and waiting for that there +letter till I was nigh crazy!' + +John briefly explained the news, and when his father had recovered from +his astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the exact line where his +forehead joined his hair, he walked with Anne up the street, leaving John +to return alone. The miller was so absorbed in his mental perspective of +Bob's marriage, that he saw nothing of the gaieties they passed through; +and Anne seemed also so much impressed by the same intelligence, that she +crossed before the inn occupied by Festus without showing a recollection +of his presence there. + + + + +XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY + + +When they reached home the sun was going down. It had already been +noised abroad that miller Loveday had received a letter, and, his cart +having been heard coming up the lane, the population of Overcombe drew +down towards the mill as soon as he had gone indoors--a sudden flash of +brightness from the window showing that he had struck such an early light +as nothing but the immediate deciphering of literature could require. +Letters were matters of public moment, and everybody in the parish had an +interest in the reading of those rare documents; so that when the miller +had placed the candle, slanted himself, and called in Mrs. Garland to +have her opinion on the meaning of any hieroglyphics that he might +encounter in his course, he found that he was to be additionally assisted +by the opinions of the other neighbours, whose persons appeared in the +doorway, partly covering each other like a hand of cards, yet each +showing a large enough piece of himself for identification. To pass the +time while they were arranging themselves, the miller adopted his usual +way of filling up casual intervals, that of snuffing the candle. + +'We heard you had got a letter, Maister Loveday,' they said. + +'Yes; "Southampton, the twelfth of August, dear father,"' said Loveday; +and they were as silent as relations at the reading of a will. Anne, for +whom the letter had a singular fascination, came in with her mother and +sat down. + +Bob stated in his own way that having, since landing, taken into +consideration his father's wish that he should renounce a seafaring life +and become a partner in the mill, he had decided to agree to the +proposal; and with that object in view he would return to Overcombe in +three days from the time of writing. + +He then said incidentally that since his voyage he had been in lodgings +at Southampton, and during that time had become acquainted with a lovely +and virtuous young maiden, in whom he found the exact qualities necessary +to his happiness. Having known this lady for the full space of a +fortnight he had had ample opportunities of studying her character, and, +being struck with the recollection that, if there was one thing more than +another necessary in a mill which had no mistress, it was somebody who +could play that part with grace and dignity, he had asked Miss Matilda +Johnson to be his wife. In her kindness she, though sacrificing far +better prospects, had agreed; and he could not but regard it as a happy +chance that he should have found at the nick of time such a woman to +adorn his home, whose innocence was as stunning as her beauty. Without +much ado, therefore, he and she had arranged to be married at once, and +at Overcombe, that his father might not be deprived of the pleasures of +the wedding feast. She had kindly consented to follow him by land in the +course of a few days, and to live in the house as their guest for the +week or so previous to the ceremony. + +''Tis a proper good letter,' said Mrs. Comfort from the background. 'I +never heerd true love better put out of hand in my life; and they seem +'nation fond of one another.' + +'He haven't knowed her such a very long time,' said Job Mitchell +dubiously. + +'That's nothing,' said Esther Beach. 'Nater will find her way, very +rapid when the time's come for't. Well, 'tis good news for ye, miller.' + +'Yes, sure, I hope 'tis,' said Loveday, without, however, showing any +great hurry to burst into the frantic form of fatherly joy which the +event should naturally have produced, seeming more disposed to let off +his feelings by examining thoroughly into the fibres of the letter-paper. + +'I was five years a-courting my wife,' he presently remarked. 'But folks +were slower about everything in them days. Well, since she's coming we +must make her welcome. Did any of ye catch by my reading which day it is +he means? What with making out the penmanship, my mind was drawn off +from the sense here and there.' + +'He says in three days,' said Mrs. Garland. 'The date of the letter will +fix it.' + +On examination it was found that the day appointed was the one nearly +expired; at which the miller jumped up and said, 'Then he'll be here +before bedtime. I didn't gather till now that he was coming afore +Saturday. Why, he may drop in this very minute!' + +He had scarcely spoken when footsteps were heard coming along the front, +and they presently halted at the door. Loveday pushed through the +neighbours and rushed out; and, seeing in the passage a form which +obscured the declining light, the miller seized hold of him, saying, 'O +my dear Bob; then you are come!' + +'Scrounch it all, miller, don't quite pull my poor shoulder out of joint! +Whatever is the matter?' said the new-comer, trying to release himself +from Loveday's grasp of affection. It was Uncle Benjy. + +'Thought 'twas my son!' faltered the miller, sinking back upon the toes +of the neighbours who had closely followed him into the entry. 'Well, +come in, Mr. Derriman, and make yerself at home. Why, you haven't been +here for years! Whatever has made you come now, sir, of all times in the +world?' + +'Is he in there with ye?' whispered the farmer with misgiving. + +'Who?' + +'My nephew, after that maid that he's so mighty smit with?' + +'O no; he never calls here.' + +Farmer Derriman breathed a breath of relief. 'Well, I've called to tell +ye,' he said, 'that there's more news of the French. We shall have 'em +here this month as sure as a gun. The gunboats be all ready--near two +thousand of 'em--and the whole army is at Boulogne. And, miller, I know +ye to be an honest man.' + +Loveday did not say nay. + +'Neighbour Loveday, I know ye to be an honest man,' repeated the old +squireen. 'Can I speak to ye alone?' + +As the house was full, Loveday took him into the garden, all the while +upon tenter-hooks, not lest Buonaparte should appear in their midst, but +lest Bob should come whilst he was not there to receive him. When they +had got into a corner Uncle Benjy said, 'Miller, what with the French, +and what with my nephew Festus, I assure ye my life is nothing but +wherrit from morning to night. Miller Loveday, you are an honest man.' + +Loveday nodded. + +'Well, I've come to ask a favour--to ask if you will take charge of my +few poor title-deeds and documents and suchlike, while I am away from +home next week, lest anything should befall me, and they should be stole +away by Boney or Festus, and I should have nothing left in the wide +world? I can trust neither banks nor lawyers in these terrible times; +and I am come to you.' + +Loveday after some hesitation agreed to take care of anything that +Derriman should bring, whereupon the farmer said he would call with the +parchments and papers alluded to in the course of a week. Derriman then +went away by the garden gate, mounted his pony, which had been tethered +outside, and rode on till his form was lost in the shades. + +The miller rejoined his friends, and found that in the meantime John had +arrived. John informed the company that after parting from his father +and Anne he had rambled to the harbour, and discovered the Pewit by the +quay. On inquiry he had learnt that she came in at eleven o'clock, and +that Bob had gone ashore. + +'We'll go and meet him,' said the miller. ''Tis still light out of +doors.' + +So, as the dew rose from the meads and formed fleeces in the hollows, +Loveday and his friends and neighbours strolled out, and loitered by the +stiles which hampered the footpath from Overcombe to the high road at +intervals of a hundred yards. John Loveday, being obliged to return to +camp, was unable to accompany them, but Widow Garland thought proper to +fall in with the procession. When she had put on her bonnet she called +to her daughter. Anne said from upstairs that she was coming in a +minute; and her mother walked on without her. + +What was Anne doing? Having hastily unlocked a receptacle for emotional +objects of small size, she took thence the little folded paper with which +we have already become acquainted, and, striking a light from her private +tinder-box, she held the paper, and curl of hair it contained, in the +candle till they were burnt. Then she put on her hat and followed her +mother and the rest of them across the moist grey fields, cheerfully +singing in an undertone as she went, to assure herself of her +indifference to circumstances. + + + + +XV. 'CAPTAIN' BOB LOVEDAY OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE + + +While Loveday and his neighbours were thus rambling forth, full of +expectancy, some of them, including Anne in the rear, heard the crackling +of light wheels along the curved lane to which the path was the chord. At +once Anne thought, 'Perhaps that's he, and we are missing him.' But +recent events were not of a kind to induce her to say anything; and the +others of the company did not reflect on the sound. + +Had they gone across to the hedge which hid the lane, and looked through +it, they would have seen a light cart driven by a boy, beside whom was +seated a seafaring man, apparently of good standing in the merchant +service, with his feet outside on the shaft. The vehicle went over the +main bridge, turned in upon the other bridge at the tail of the mill, and +halted by the door. The sailor alighted, showing himself to be a well- +shaped, active, and fine young man, with a bright eye, an anonymous nose, +and of such a rich complexion by exposure to ripening suns that he might +have been some connexion of the foreigner who calls his likeness the +Portrait of a Gentleman in galleries of the Old Masters. Yet in spite of +this, and though Bob Loveday had been all over the world from Cape Horn +to Pekin, and from India's coral strand to the White Sea, the most +conspicuous of all the marks that he had brought back with him was an +increased resemblance to his mother, who had lain all the time beneath +Overcombe church wall. + +Captain Loveday tried the house door; finding this locked he went to the +mill door: this was locked also, the mill being stopped for the night. + +'They are not at home,' he said to the boy. 'But never mind that. Just +help to unload the things and then I'll pay you, and you can drive off +home.' + +The cart was unloaded, and the boy was dismissed, thanking the sailor +profusely for the payment rendered. Then Bob Loveday, finding that he +had still some leisure on his hands, looked musingly east, west, north, +south, and nadir; after which he bestirred himself by carrying his goods, +article by article, round to the back door, out of the way of casual +passers. This done, he walked round the mill in a more regardful +attitude, and surveyed its familiar features one by one--the panes of the +grinding-room, now as heretofore clouded with flour as with stale hoar- +frost; the meal lodged in the corners of the window-sills, forming a soil +in which lichens grew without ever getting any bigger, as they had done +since his smallest infancy; the mosses on the plinth towards the river, +reaching as high as the capillary power of the walls would fetch up +moisture for their nourishment, and the penned mill-pond, now as ever on +the point of overflowing into the garden. Everything was the same. + +When he had had enough of this it occurred to Loveday that he might get +into the house in spite of the locked doors; and by entering the garden, +placing a pole from the fork of an apple-tree to the window-sill of a +bedroom on that side, and climbing across like a Barbary ape, he entered +the window and stepped down inside. There was something anomalous in +being close to the familiar furniture without having first seen his +father, and its silent, impassive shine was not cheering; it was as if +his relations were all dead, and only their tables and chests of drawers +left to greet him. He went downstairs and seated himself in the dark +parlour. Finding this place, too, rather solitary, and the tick of the +invisible clock preternaturally loud, he unearthed the tinder-box, +obtained a light, and set about making the house comfortable for his +father's return, divining that the miller had gone out to meet him by the +wrong road. + +Robert's interest in this work increased as he proceeded, and he bustled +round and round the kitchen as lightly as a girl. David, the indoor +factotum, having lost himself among the quart pots of Budmouth, there had +been nobody left here to prepare supper, and Bob had it all to himself. +In a short time a fire blazed up the chimney, a tablecloth was found, the +plates were clapped down, and a search made for what provisions the house +afforded, which, in addition to various meats, included some fresh eggs +of the elongated shape that produces cockerels when hatched, and had been +set aside on that account for putting under the next broody hen. + +A more reckless cracking of eggs than that which now went on had never +been known in Overcombe since the last large christening; and as Loveday +gashed one on the side, another at the end, another longways, and another +diagonally, he acquired adroitness by practice, and at last made every +son of a hen of them fall into two hemispheres as neatly as if it opened +by a hinge. From eggs he proceeded to ham, and from ham to kidneys, the +result being a brilliant fry. + +Not to be tempted to fall to before his father came back, the returned +navigator emptied the whole into a dish, laid a plate over the top, his +coat over the plate, and his hat over his coat. Thus completely stopping +in the appetizing smell, he sat down to await events. He was relieved +from the tediousness of doing this by hearing voices outside; and in a +minute his father entered. + +'Glad to welcome ye home, father,' said Bob. 'And supper is just ready.' + +'Lard, lard--why, Captain Bob's here!' said Mrs. Garland. + +'And we've been out waiting to meet thee!' said the miller, as he entered +the room, followed by representatives of the houses of Cripplestraw, +Comfort, Mitchell, Beach, and Snooks, together with some small beginnings +of Fencible Tremlett's posterity. In the rear came David, and quite in +the vanishing-point of the composition, Anne the fair. + +'I drove over; and so was forced to come by the road,' said Bob. + +'And we went across the fields, thinking you'd walk,' said his father. + +'I should have been here this morning; but not so much as a wheelbarrow +could I get for my traps; everything was gone to the review. So I went +too, thinking I might meet you there. I was then obliged to return to +the harbour for the luggage.' + +Then there was a welcoming of Captain Bob by pulling out his arms like +drawers and shutting them again, smacking him on the back as if he were +choking, holding him at arm's length as if he were of too large type to +read close. All which persecution Bob bore with a wide, genial smile +that was shaken into fragments and scattered promiscuously among the +spectators. + +'Get a chair for 'n!' said the miller to David, whom they had met in the +fields and found to have got nothing worse by his absence than a slight +slant in his walk. + +'Never mind--I am not tired--I have been here ever so long,' said Bob. +'And I--' But the chair having been placed behind him, and a smart touch +in the hollow of a person's knee by the edge of that piece of furniture +having a tendency to make the person sit without further argument, Bob +sank down dumb, and the others drew up other chairs at a convenient +nearness for easy analytic vision and the subtler forms of good +fellowship. The miller went about saying, 'David, the nine best glasses +from the corner cupboard!'--'David, the corkscrew!'--'David, whisk the +tail of thy smock-frock round the inside of these quart pots afore you +draw drink in 'em--they be an inch thick in dust!'--'David, lower that +chimney-crook a couple of notches that the flame may touch the bottom of +the kettle, and light three more of the largest candles!'--'If you can't +get the cork out of the jar, David, bore a hole in the tub of Hollands +that's buried under the scroff in the fuel-house; d'ye hear?--Dan Brown +left en there yesterday as a return for the little porker I gied en.' + +When they had all had a thimbleful round, and the superfluous neighbours +had reluctantly departed, one by one, the inmates gave their minds to the +supper, which David had begun to serve up. + +'What be you rolling back the tablecloth for, David?' said the miller. + +'Maister Bob have put down one of the under sheets by mistake, and I +thought you might not like it, sir, as there's ladies present!' + +'Faith, 'twas the first thing that came to hand,' said Robert. 'It +seemed a tablecloth to me.' + +'Never mind--don't pull off the things now he's laid 'em down--let it +bide,' said the miller. 'But where's Widow Garland and Maidy Anne?' + +'They were here but a minute ago,' said David. 'Depend upon it they have +slinked off 'cause they be shy.' + +The miller at once went round to ask them to come back and sup with him; +and while he was gone David told Bob in confidence what an excellent +place he had for an old man. + +'Yes, Cap'n Bob, as I suppose I must call ye; I've worked for yer father +these eight-and-thirty years, and we have always got on very well +together. Trusts me with all the keys, lends me his sleeve-waistcoat, +and leaves the house entirely to me. Widow Garland next door, too, is +just the same with me, and treats me as if I was her own child.' + +'She must have married young to make you that, David.' + +'Yes, yes--I'm years older than she. 'Tis only my common way of +speaking.' + +Mrs. Garland would not come in to supper, and the meal proceeded without +her, Bob recommending to his father the dish he had cooked, in the manner +of a householder to a stranger just come. The miller was anxious to know +more about his son's plans for the future, but would not for the present +interrupt his eating, looking up from his own plate to appreciate Bob's +travelled way of putting English victuals out of sight, as he would have +looked at a mill on improved principles. + +David had only just got the table clear, and set the plates in a row +under the bakehouse table for the cats to lick, when the door was hastily +opened, and Mrs. Garland came in, looking concerned. + +'I have been waiting to hear the plates removed to tell you how +frightened we are at something we hear at the back-door. It seems like +robbers muttering; but when I look out there's nobody there!' + +'This must be seen to,' said the miller, rising promptly. 'David, light +the middle-sized lantern. I'll go and search the garden.' + +'And I'll go too,' said his son, taking up a cudgel. 'Lucky I've come +home just in time!' + +They went out stealthily, followed by the widow and Anne, who had been +afraid to stay alone in the house under the circumstances. No sooner +were they beyond the door when, sure enough, there was the muttering +almost close at hand, and low upon the ground, as from persons lying down +in hiding. + +'Bless my heart!' said Bob, striking his head as though it were some +enemy's: 'why, 'tis my luggage. I'd quite forgot it!' + +'What!' asked his father. + +'My luggage. Really, if it hadn't been for Mrs. Garland it would have +stayed there all night, and they, poor things! would have been starved. +I've got all sorts of articles for ye. You go inside, and I'll bring 'em +in. 'Tis parrots that you hear a muttering, Mrs. Garland. You needn't +be afraid any more.' + +'Parrots?' said the miller. 'Well, I'm glad 'tis no worse. But how +couldst forget so, Bob?' + +The packages were taken in by David and Bob, and the first unfastened +were three, wrapped in cloths, which being stripped off revealed three +cages, with a gorgeous parrot in each. + +'This one is for you, father, to hang up outside the door, and amuse us,' +said Bob. 'He'll talk very well, but he's sleepy to-night. This other +one I brought along for any neighbour that would like to have him. His +colours are not so bright; but 'tis a good bird. If you would like to +have him you are welcome to him,' he said, turning to Anne, who had been +tempted forward by the birds. 'You have hardly spoken yet, Miss Anne, +but I recollect you very well. How much taller you have got, to be +sure!' + +Anne said she was much obliged, but did not know what she could do with +such a present. Mrs. Garland accepted it for her, and the sailor went +on--'Now this other bird I hardly know what to do with; but I dare say +he'll come in for something or other.' + +'He is by far the prettiest,' said the widow. 'I would rather have it +than the other, if you don't mind.' + +'Yes,' said Bob, with embarrassment. 'But the fact is, that bird will +hardly do for ye, ma'am. He's a hard swearer, to tell the truth; and I +am afraid he's too old to be broken of it.' + +'How dreadful!' said Mrs. Garland. + +'We could keep him in the mill,' suggested the miller. 'It won't matter +about the grinder hearing him, for he can't learn to cuss worse than he +do already!' + +'The grinder shall have him, then,' said Bob. 'The one I have given you, +ma'am, has no harm in him at all. You might take him to church o' +Sundays as far as that goes.' + +The sailor now untied a small wooden box about a foot square, perforated +with holes. 'Here are two marmosets,' he continued. 'You can't see them +to-night; but they are beauties--the tufted sort.' + +'What's a marmoset?' said the miller. + +'O, a little kind of monkey. They bite strangers rather hard, but you'll +soon get used to 'em.' + +'They are wrapped up in something, I declare,' said Mrs. Garland, peeping +in through a chink. + +'Yes, that's my flannel shirt,' said Bob apologetically. 'They suffer +terribly from cold in this climate, poor things! and I had nothing better +to give them. Well, now, in this next box I've got things of different +sorts.' + +The latter was a regular seaman's chest, and out of it he produced shells +of many sizes and colours, carved ivories, queer little caskets, gorgeous +feathers, and several silk handkerchiefs, which articles were spread out +upon all the available tables and chairs till the house began to look +like a bazaar. + +'What a lovely shawl!' exclaimed Widow Garland, in her interest +forestalling the regular exhibition by looking into the box at what was +coming. + +'O yes,' said the mate, pulling out a couple of the most bewitching +shawls that eyes ever saw. 'One of these I am going to give to that +young lady I am shortly to be married to, you know, Mrs. Garland. Has +father told you about it? Matilda Johnson, of Southampton, that's her +name.' + +'Yes, we know all about it,' said the widow. + +'Well, I shall give one of these shawls to her--because, of course, I +ought to.' + +'Of course,' said she. + +'But the other one I've got no use for at all; and,' he continued, +looking round, 'will you have it, Miss Anne? You refused the parrot, and +you ought not to refuse this.' + +'Thank you,' said Anne calmly, but much distressed; 'but really I don't +want it, and couldn't take it.' + +'But do have it!' said Bob in hurt tones, Mrs. Garland being all the +while on tenter-hooks lest Anne should persist in her absurd refusal. + +'Why, there's another reason why you ought to!' said he, his face +lighting up with recollections. 'It never came into my head till this +moment that I used to be your beau in a humble sort of way. Faith, so I +did, and we used to meet at places sometimes, didn't we--that is, when +you were not too proud; and once I gave you, or somebody else, a bit of +my hair in fun.' + +'It was somebody else,' said Anne quickly. + +'Ah, perhaps it was,' said Bob innocently. 'But it was you I used to +meet, or try to, I am sure. Well, I've never thought of that boyish time +for years till this minute! I am sure you ought to accept some one gift, +dear, out of compliment to those old times!' + +Anne drew back and shook her head, for she would not trust her voice. + +'Well, Mrs. Garland, then you shall have it,' said Bob, tossing the shawl +to that ready receiver. 'If you don't, upon my life I will throw it out +to the first beggar I see. Now, here's a parcel of cap ribbons of the +splendidest sort I could get. Have these--do, Anne!' + +'Yes, do,' said Mrs. Garland. + +'I promised them to Matilda,' continued Bob; 'but I am sure she won't +want 'em, as she has got some of her own: and I would as soon see them +upon your head, my dear, as upon hers.' + +'I think you had better keep them for your bride if you have promised +them to her,' said Mrs. Garland mildly. + +'It wasn't exactly a promise. I just said, "Til, there's some cap +ribbons in my box, if you would like to have them." But she's got enough +things already for any bride in creation. Anne, now you shall have +'em--upon my soul you shall--or I'll fling them down the mill-tail!' + +Anne had meant to be perfectly firm in refusing everything, for reasons +obvious even to that poor waif, the meanest capacity; but when it came to +this point she was absolutely compelled to give in, and reluctantly +received the cap ribbons in her arms, blushing fitfully, and with her lip +trembling in a motion which she tried to exhibit as a smile. + +'What would Tilly say if she knew!' said the miller slily. + +'Yes, indeed--and it is wrong of him!' Anne instantly cried, tears +running down her face as she threw the parcel of ribbons on the floor. +'You'd better bestow your gifts where you bestow your l--l--love, Mr. +Loveday--that's what I say!' And Anne turned her back and went away. + +'I'll take them for her,' said Mrs. Garland, quickly picking up the +parcel. + +'Now that's a pity,' said Bob, looking regretfully after Anne. 'I didn't +remember that she was a quick-tempered sort of girl at all. Tell her, +Mrs. Garland, that I ask her pardon. But of course I didn't know she was +too proud to accept a little present--how should I? Upon my life if it +wasn't for Matilda I'd--Well, that can't be, of course.' + +'What's this?' said Mrs. Garland, touching with her foot a large package +that had been laid down by Bob unseen. + +'That's a bit of baccy for myself,' said Robert meekly. + +The examination of presents at last ended, and the two families parted +for the night. When they were alone, Mrs. Garland said to Anne, 'What a +close girl you are! I am sure I never knew that Bob Loveday and you had +walked together: you must have been mere children.' + +'O yes--so we were,' said Anne, now quite recovered. 'It was when we +first came here, about a year after father died. We did not walk +together in any regular way. You know I have never thought the Lovedays +high enough for me. It was only just--nothing at all, and I had almost +forgotten it.' + +It is to be hoped that somebody's sins were forgiven her that night +before she went to bed. + +When Bob and his father were left alone, the miller said, 'Well, Robert, +about this young woman of thine--Matilda what's her name?' + +'Yes, father--Matilda Johnson. I was just going to tell ye about her.' + +The miller nodded, and sipped his mug. + +'Well, she is an excellent body,' continued Bob; 'that can truly be +said--a real charmer, you know--a nice good comely young woman, a miracle +of genteel breeding, you know, and all that. She can throw her hair into +the nicest curls, and she's got splendid gowns and headclothes. In +short, you might call her a land mermaid. She'll make such a first-rate +wife as there never was.' + +'No doubt she will,' said the miller; 'for I have never known thee +wanting in sense in a jineral way.' He turned his cup round on its axis +till the handle had travelled a complete circle. 'How long did you say +in your letter that you had known her?' + +'A fortnight.' + +'Not _very_ long.' + +'It don't sound long, 'tis true; and 'twas really longer--'twas fifteen +days and a quarter. But hang it, father, I could see in the twinkling of +an eye that the girl would do. I know a woman well enough when I see +her--I ought to, indeed, having been so much about the world. Now, for +instance, there's Widow Garland and her daughter. The girl is a nice +little thing; but the old woman--O no!' Bob shook his head. + +'What of her?' said his father, slightly shifting in his chair. + +'Well, she's, she's--I mean, I should never have chose her, you know. +She's of a nice disposition, and young for a widow with a grown-up +daughter; but if all the men had been like me she would never have had a +husband. I like her in some respects; but she's a style of beauty I +don't care for.' + +'O, if 'tis only looks you are thinking of,' said the miller, much +relieved, 'there's nothing to be said, of course. Though there's many a +duchess worse-looking, if it comes to argument, as you would find, my +son,' he added, with a sense of having been mollified too soon. + +The mate's thoughts were elsewhere by this time. + +'As to my marrying Matilda, thinks I, here's one of the very genteelest +sort, and I may as well do the job at once. So I chose her. She's a +dear girl; there's nobody like her, search where you will.' + +'How many did you choose her out from?' inquired his father. + +'Well, she was the only young woman I happened to know in Southampton, +that's true. But what of that? It would have been all the same if I had +known a hundred.' + +'Her father is in business near the docks, I suppose?' + +'Well, no. In short, I didn't see her father.' + +'Her mother?' + +'Her mother? No, I didn't. I think her mother is dead; but she has got +a very rich aunt living at Melchester. I didn't see her aunt, because +there wasn't time to go; but of course we shall know her when we are +married.' + +'Yes, yes, of course,' said the miller, trying to feel quite satisfied. +'And she will soon be here?' + +'Ay, she's coming soon,' said Bob. 'She has gone to this aunt's at +Melchester to get her things packed, and suchlike, or she would have come +with me. I am going to meet the coach at the King's Arms, Casterbridge, +on Sunday, at one o'clock. To show what a capital sort of wife she'll +be, I may tell you that she wanted to come by the Mercury, because 'tis a +little cheaper than the other. But I said, "For once in your life do it +well, and come by the Royal Mail, and I'll pay." I can have the pony and +trap to fetch her, I suppose, as 'tis too far for her to walk?' + +'Of course you can, Bob, or anything else. And I'll do all I can to give +you a good wedding feast.' + + + + +XVI. THEY MAKE READY FOR THE ILLUSTRIOUS STRANGER + + +Preparations for Matilda's welcome, and for the event which was to +follow, at once occupied the attention of the mill. The miller and his +man had but dim notions of housewifery on any large scale; so the great +wedding cleaning was kindly supervised by Mrs. Garland, Bob being mostly +away during the day with his brother, the trumpet-major, on various +errands, one of which was to buy paint and varnish for the gig that +Matilda was to be fetched in, which he had determined to decorate with +his own hands. + +By the widow's direction the old familiar incrustation of shining dirt, +imprinted along the back of the settle by the heads of countless jolly +sitters, was scrubbed and scraped away; the brown circle round the nail +whereon the miller hung his hat, stained by the brim in wet weather, was +whitened over; the tawny smudges of bygone shoulders in the passage were +removed without regard to a certain genial and historical value which +they had acquired. The face of the clock, coated with verdigris as thick +as a diachylon plaister, was rubbed till the figures emerged into day; +while, inside the case of the same chronometer, the cobwebs that formed +triangular hammocks, which the pendulum could hardly wade through, were +cleared away at one swoop. + +Mrs. Garland also assisted at the invasion of worm-eaten cupboards, where +layers of ancient smells lingered on in the stagnant air, and recalled to +the reflective nose the many good things that had been kept there. The +upper floors were scrubbed with such abundance of water that the +old-established death-watches, wood-lice, and flour-worms were all +drowned, the suds trickling down into the room below in so lively and +novel a manner as to convey the romantic notion that the miller lived in +a cave with dripping stalactites. + +They moved what had never been moved before--the oak coffer, containing +the miller's wardrobe--a tremendous weight, what with its locks, hinges, +nails, dirt, framework, and the hard stratification of old jackets, +waistcoats, and knee-breeches at the bottom, never disturbed since the +miller's wife died, and half pulverized by the moths, whose flattened +skeletons lay amid the mass in thousands. + +'It fairly makes my back open and shut!' said Loveday, as, in obedience +to Mrs. Garland's direction, he lifted one corner, the grinder and David +assisting at the others. 'All together: speak when ye be going to heave. +Now!' + +The pot covers and skimmers were brought to such a state that, on +examining them, the beholder was not conscious of utensils, but of his +own face in a condition of hideous elasticity. The broken clock-line was +mended, the kettles rocked, the creeper nailed up, and a new handle put +to the warming-pan. The large household lantern was cleaned out, after +three years of uninterrupted accumulation, the operation yielding a +conglomerate of candle-snuffs, candle-ends, remains of matches, +lamp-black, and eleven ounces and a half of good grease--invaluable as +dubbing for skitty boots and ointment for cart-wheels. + +Everybody said that the mill residence had not been so thoroughly scoured +for twenty years. The miller and David looked on with a sort of awe +tempered by gratitude, tacitly admitting by their gaze that this was +beyond what they had ever thought of. Mrs. Garland supervised all with +disinterested benevolence. It would never have done, she said, for his +future daughter-in-law to see the house in its original state. She would +have taken a dislike to him, and perhaps to Bob likewise. + +'Why don't ye come and live here with me, and then you would be able to +see to it at all times?' said the miller as she bustled about again. To +which she answered that she was considering the matter, and might in good +time. He had previously informed her that his plan was to put Bob and +his wife in the part of the house that she, Mrs. Garland, occupied, as +soon as she chose to enter his, which relieved her of any fear of being +incommoded by Matilda. + +The cooking for the wedding festivities was on a proportionate scale of +thoroughness. They killed the four supernumerary chickens that had just +begun to crow, and the little curly-tailed barrow pig, in preference to +the sow; not having been put up fattening for more than five weeks it was +excellent small meat, and therefore more delicate and likely to suit a +town-bred lady's taste than the large one, which, having reached the +weight of fourteen score, might have been a little gross to a cultured +palate. There were also provided a cold chine, stuffed veal, and two +pigeon pies. Also thirty rings of black-pot, a dozen of white-pot, and +ten knots of tender and well-washed chitterlings, cooked plain in case +she should like a change. + +As additional reserves there were sweetbreads, and five milts, sewed up +at one side in the form of a chrysalis, and stuffed with thyme, sage, +parsley, mint, groats, rice, milk, chopped egg, and other ingredients. +They were afterwards roasted before a slow fire, and eaten hot. + +The business of chopping so many herbs for the various stuffings was +found to be aching work for women; and David, the miller, the grinder, +and the grinder's boy being fully occupied in their proper branches, and +Bob being very busy painting the gig and touching up the harness, Loveday +called in a friendly dragoon of John's regiment who was passing by, and +he, being a muscular man, willingly chopped all the afternoon for a quart +of strong, judiciously administered, and all other victuals found, taking +off his jacket and gloves, rolling up his shirt-sleeves and unfastening +his collar in an honourable and energetic way. + +All windfalls and maggot-cored codlins were excluded from the apple pies; +and as there was no known dish large enough for the purpose, the puddings +were stirred up in the milking-pail, and boiled in the three-legged bell- +metal crock, of great weight and antiquity, which every travelling tinker +for the previous thirty years had tapped with his stick, coveted, made a +bid for, and often attempted to steal. + +In the liquor line Loveday laid in an ample barrel of Casterbridge +'strong beer.' This renowned drink--now almost as much a thing of the +past as Falstaff's favourite beverage--was not only well calculated to +win the hearts of soldiers blown dry and dusty by residence in tents on a +hill-top, but of any wayfarer whatever in that land. It was of the most +beautiful colour that the eye of an artist in beer could desire; full in +body, yet brisk as a volcano; piquant, yet without a twang; luminous as +an autumn sunset; free from streakiness of taste; but, finally, rather +heady. The masses worshipped it, the minor gentry loved it more than +wine, and by the most illustrious county families it was not despised. +Anybody brought up for being drunk and disorderly in the streets of its +natal borough, had only to prove that he was a stranger to the place and +its liquor to be honourably dismissed by the magistrates, as one +overtaken in a fault that no man could guard against who entered the town +unawares. + +In addition, Mr. Loveday also tapped a hogshead of fine cider that he had +had mellowing in the house for several months, having bought it of an +honest down-country man, who did not colour, for any special occasion +like the present. It had been pressed from fruit judiciously chosen by +an old hand--Horner and Cleeves apple for the body, a few Tom-Putts for +colour, and just a dash of Old Five-corners for sparkle--a selection +originally made to please the palate of a well-known temperate earl who +was a regular cider-drinker, and lived to be eighty-eight. + +On the morning of the Sunday appointed for her coming Captain Bob Loveday +set out to meet his bride. He had been all the week engaged in painting +the gig, assisted by his brother at odd times, and it now appeared of a +gorgeous yellow, with blue streaks, and tassels at the corners, and red +wheels outlined with a darker shade. He put in the pony at half-past +eleven, Anne looking at him from the door as he packed himself into the +vehicle and drove off. There may be young women who look out at young +men driving to meet their brides as Anne looked at Captain Bob, and yet +are quite indifferent to the circumstances; but they are not often met +with. + +So much dust had been raised on the highway by traffic resulting from the +presence of the Court at the town further on, that brambles hanging from +the fence, and giving a friendly scratch to the wanderer's face, were +dingy as church cobwebs; and the grass on the margin had assumed a paper- +shaving hue. Bob's father had wished him to take David, lest, from want +of recent experience at the whip, he should meet with any mishap; but, +picturing to himself the awkwardness of three in such circumstances, Bob +would not hear of this; and nothing more serious happened to his driving +than that the wheel-marks formed two serpentine lines along the road +during the first mile or two, before he had got his hand in, and that the +horse shied at a milestone, a piece of paper, a sleeping tramp, and a +wheelbarrow, just to make use of the opportunity of being in bad hands. + +He entered Casterbridge between twelve and one, and, putting up at the +Old Greyhound, walked on to the Bow. Here, rather dusty on the ledges of +his clothes, he stood and waited while the people in their best summer +dresses poured out of the three churches round him. When they had all +gone, and a smell of cinders and gravy had spread down the ancient high- +street, and the pie-dishes from adjacent bakehouses had all travelled +past, he saw the mail coach rise above the arch of Grey's Bridge, a +quarter of a mile distant, surmounted by swaying knobs, which proved to +be the heads of the outside travellers. + +'That's the way for a man's bride to come to him,' said Robert to himself +with a feeling of poetry; and as the horn sounded and the horses +clattered up the street he walked down to the inn. The knot of hostlers +and inn-servants had gathered, the horses were dragged from the vehicle, +and the passengers for Casterbridge began to descend. Captain Bob eyed +them over, looked inside, looked outside again; to his disappointment +Matilda was not there, nor her boxes, nor anything that was hers. Neither +coachman nor guard had seen or heard of such a person at Melchester; and +Bob walked slowly away. + +Depressed by forebodings to an extent which took away nearly a third of +his appetite, he sat down in the parlour of the Old Greyhound to a slice +from the family joint of the landlord. This gentleman, who dined in his +shirt-sleeves, partly because it was August, and partly from a sense that +they would not be so fit for public view further on in the week, +suggested that Bob should wait till three or four that afternoon, when +the road-waggon would arrive, as the lost lady might have preferred that +mode of conveyance; and when Bob appeared rather hurt at the suggestion, +the landlord's wife assured him, as a woman who knew good life, that many +genteel persons travelled in that way during the present high price of +provisions. Loveday, who knew little of travelling by land, readily +accepted her assurance and resolved to wait. + +Wandering up and down the pavement, or leaning against some hot wall +between the waggon-office and the corner of the street above, he passed +the time away. It was a still, sunny, drowsy afternoon, and scarcely a +soul was visible in the length and breadth of the street. The office was +not far from All Saints' Church, and the church-windows being open, he +could hear the afternoon service from where he lingered as distinctly as +if he had been one of the congregation. Thus he was mentally conducted +through the Psalms, through the first and second lessons, through the +burst of fiddles and clarionets which announced the evening-hymn, and +well into the sermon, before any signs of the waggon could be seen upon +the London road. + +The afternoon sermons at this church being of a dry and metaphysical +nature at that date, it was by a special providence that the +waggon-office was placed near the ancient fabric, so that whenever the +Sunday waggon was late, which it always was in hot weather, in cold +weather, in wet weather, and in weather of almost every other sort, the +rattle, dismounting, and swearing outside completely drowned the parson's +voice within, and sustained the flagging interest of the congregation at +precisely the right moment. No sooner did the charity children begin to +writhe on their benches, and adult snores grow audible, than the waggon +arrived. + +Captain Loveday felt a kind of sinking in his poetry at the possibility +of her for whom they had made such preparations being in the slow, +unwieldy vehicle which crunched its way towards him; but he would not +give in to the weakness. Neither would he walk down the street to meet +the waggon, lest she should not be there. At last the broad wheels drew +up against the kerb, the waggoner with his white smock-frock, and whip as +long as a fishing-line, descended from the pony on which he rode +alongside, and the six broad-chested horses backed from their collars and +shook themselves. In another moment something showed forth, and he knew +that Matilda was there. + +Bob felt three cheers rise within him as she stepped down; but it being +Sunday he did not utter them. In dress, Miss Johnson passed his +expectations--a green and white gown, with long, tight sleeves, a green +silk handkerchief round her neck and crossed in front, a green parasol, +and green gloves. It was strange enough to see this verdant caterpillar +turn out of a road-waggon, and gracefully shake herself free from the +bits of straw and fluff which would usually gather on the raiment of the +grandest travellers by that vehicle. + +'But, my dear Matilda,' said Bob, when he had kissed her three times with +much publicity--the practical step he had determined on seeming to demand +that these things should no longer be done in a corner--'my dear Matilda, +why didn't you come by the coach, having the money for't and all?' + +'That's my scrimping!' said Matilda in a delightful gush. 'I know you +won't be offended when you know I did it to save against a rainy day!' + +Bob, of course, was not offended, though the glory of meeting her had +been less; and even if vexation were possible, it would have been out of +place to say so. Still, he would have experienced no little surprise had +he learnt the real reason of his Matilda's change of plan. That angel +had, in short, so wildly spent Bob's and her own money in the adornment +of her person before setting out, that she found herself without a +sufficient margin for her fare by coach, and had scrimped from sheer +necessity. + +'Well, I have got the trap out at the Greyhound,' said Bob. 'I don't +know whether it will hold your luggage and us too; but it looked more +respectable than the waggon on a Sunday, and if there's not room for the +boxes I can walk alongside.' + +'I think there will be room,' said Miss Johnson mildly. And it was soon +very evident that she spoke the truth; for when her property was +deposited on the pavement, it consisted of a trunk about eighteen inches +long, and nothing more. + +'O--that's all!' said Captain Loveday, surprised. + +'That's all,' said the young woman assuringly. 'I didn't want to give +trouble, you know, and what I have besides I have left at my aunt's.' + +'Yes, of course,' he answered readily. 'And as it's no bigger, I can +carry it in my hand to the inn, and so it will be no trouble at all.' + +He caught up the little box, and they went side by side to the Greyhound; +and in ten minutes they were trotting up the Southern Road. + +Bob did not hurry the horse, there being many things to say and hear, for +which the present situation was admirably suited. The sun shone +occasionally into Matilda's face as they drove on, its rays picking out +all her features to a great nicety. Her eyes would have been called +brown, but they were really eel-colour, like many other nice brown eyes; +they were well-shaped and rather bright, though they had more of a broad +shine than a sparkle. She had a firm, sufficient nose, which seemed to +say of itself that it was good as noses go. She had rather a picturesque +way of wrapping her upper in her lower lip, so that the red of the latter +showed strongly. Whenever she gazed against the sun towards the distant +hills, she brought into her forehead, without knowing it, three short +vertical lines--not there at other times--giving her for the moment +rather a hard look. And in turning her head round to a far angle, to +stare at something or other that he pointed out, the drawn flesh of her +neck became a mass of lines. But Bob did not look at these things, +which, of course, were of no significance; for had she not told him, when +they compared ages, that she was a little over two-and-twenty? + +As Nature was hardly invented at this early point of the century, Bob's +Matilda could not say much about the glamour of the hills, or the +shimmering of the foliage, or the wealth of glory in the distant sea, as +she would doubtless have done had she lived later on; but she did her +best to be interesting, asking Bob about matters of social interest in +the neighbourhood, to which she seemed quite a stranger. + +'Is your watering-place a large city?' she inquired when they mounted the +hill where the Overcombe folk had waited for the King. + +'Bless you, my dear--no! 'Twould be nothing if it wasn't for the Royal +Family, and the lords and ladies, and the regiments of soldiers, and the +frigates, and the King's messengers, and the actors and actresses, and +the games that go on.' + +At the words 'actors and actresses,' the innocent young thing pricked up +her ears. + +'Does Elliston pay as good salaries this summer as in--?' + +'O, you know about it then? I thought--' + +'O no, no! I have heard of Budmouth--read in the papers, you know, dear +Robert, about the doings there, and the actors and actresses, you know.' + +'Yes, yes, I see. Well, I have been away from England a long time, and +don't know much about the theatre in the town; but I'll take you there +some day. Would it be a treat to you?' + +'O, an amazing treat!' said Miss Johnson, with an ecstasy in which a +close observer might have discovered a tinge of ghastliness. + +'You've never been into one perhaps, dear?' + +'N--never,' said Matilda flatly. 'Whatever do I see yonder--a row of +white things on the down?' + +'Yes, that's a part of the encampment above Overcombe. Lots of soldiers +are encamped about here; those are the white tops of their tents.' + +He pointed to a wing of the camp that had become visible. Matilda was +much interested. + +'It will make it very lively for us,' he added, 'especially as John is +there.' + +She thought so too, and thus they chatted on. + + + + +XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT + + +Meanwhile Miller Loveday was expecting the pair with interest; and about +five o'clock, after repeated outlooks, he saw two specks the size of +caraway seeds on the far line of ridge where the sunlit white of the road +met the blue of the sky. Then the remainder parts of Bob and his lady +became visible, and then the whole vehicle, end on, and he heard the dry +rattle of the wheels on the dusty road. Miller Loveday's plan, as far as +he had formed any, was that Robert and his wife should live with him in +the millhouse until Mrs. Garland made up her mind to join him there; in +which event her present house would be made over to the young couple. +Upon all grounds, he wished to welcome becomingly the woman of his son's +choice, and came forward promptly as they drew up at the door. + +'What a lovely place you've got here!' said Miss Johnson, when the miller +had received her from the captain. 'A real stream of water, a real mill- +wheel, and real fowls, and everything!' + +'Yes, 'tis real enough,' said Loveday, looking at the river with balanced +sentiments; 'and so you will say when you've lived here a bit as mis'ess, +and had the trouble of claning the furniture.' + +At this Miss Johnson looked modest, and continued to do so till Anne, not +knowing they were there, came round the corner of the house, with her +prayer-book in her hand, having just arrived from church. Bob turned and +smiled to her, at which Miss Johnson looked glum. How long she would +have remained in that phase is unknown, for just then her ears were +assailed by a loud bass note from the other side, causing her to jump +round. + +'O la! what dreadful thing is it?' she exclaimed, and beheld a cow of +Loveday's, of the name of Crumpler, standing close to her shoulder. It +being about milking-time, she had come to look up David and hasten on the +operation. + +'O, what a horrid bull!--it did frighten me so. I hope I shan't faint,' +said Matilda. + +The miller immediately used the formula which has been uttered by the +proprietors of live stock ever since Noah's time. 'She won't hurt ye. +Hoosh, Crumpler! She's as timid as a mouse, ma'am.' + +But as Crumpler persisted in making another terrific inquiry for David, +Matilda could not help closing her eyes and saying, 'O, I shall be gored +to death!' her head falling back upon Bob's shoulder, which--seeing the +urgent circumstances, and knowing her delicate nature--he had +providentially placed in a position to catch her. Anne Garland, who had +been standing at the corner of the house, not knowing whether to go back +or come on, at this felt her womanly sympathies aroused. She ran and +dipped her handkerchief into the splashing mill-tail, and with it damped +Matilda's face. But as her eyes still remained closed, Bob, to increase +the effect, took the handkerchief from Anne and wrung it out on the +bridge of Matilda's nose, whence it ran over the rest of her face in a +stream. + +'O, Captain Loveday!' said Anne, 'the water is running over her green +silk handkerchief, and into her pretty reticule!' + +'There--if I didn't think so!' exclaimed Matilda, opening her eyes, +starting up, and promptly pulling out her own handkerchief, with which +she wiped away the drops, and an unimportant trifle of her complexion, +assisted by Anne, who, in spite of her background of antagonistic +emotions, could not help being interested. + +'That's right!' said the miller, his spirits reviving with the revival of +Matilda. 'The lady is not used to country life; are you, ma'am?' + +'I am not,' replied the sufferer. 'All is so strange about here!' + +Suddenly there spread into the firmament, from the direction of the +down:-- + + 'Ra, ta, ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ra, ta, ta!' + +'O dear, dear! more hideous country sounds, I suppose?' she inquired, +with another start. + +'O no,' said the miller cheerfully. ''Tis only my son John's trumpeter +chaps at the camp of dragoons just above us, a-blowing Mess, or Feed, or +Picket, or some other of their vagaries. John will be much pleased to +tell you the meaning on't when he comes down. He's trumpet-major, as you +may know, ma'am.' + +'O yes; you mean Captain Loveday's brother. Dear Bob has mentioned him.' + +'If you come round to Widow Garland's side of the house, you can see the +camp,' said the miller. + +'Don't force her; she's tired with her long journey,' said Mrs. Garland +humanely, the widow having come out in the general wish to see Captain +Bob's choice. Indeed, they all behaved towards her as if she were a +tender exotic, which their crude country manners might seriously injure. + +She went into the house, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and her daughter; +though before leaving Bob she managed to whisper in his ear, 'Don't tell +them I came by waggon, will you, dear?'--a request which was quite +needless, for Bob had long ago determined to keep that a dead secret; not +because it was an uncommon mode of travel, but simply that it was hardly +the usual conveyance for a gorgeous lady to her bridal. + +As the men had a feeling that they would be superfluous indoors just at +present, the miller assisted David in taking the horse round to the +stables, Bob following, and leaving Matilda to the women. Indoors, Miss +Johnson admired everything: the new parrots and marmosets, the black +beams of the ceiling, the double-corner cupboard with the glass doors, +through which gleamed the remainders of sundry china sets acquired by +Bob's mother in her housekeeping--two-handled sugar-basins, no-handled +tea-cups, a tea-pot like a pagoda, and a cream-jug in the form of a +spotted cow. This sociability in their visitor was returned by Mrs. +Garland and Anne; and Miss Johnson's pleasing habit of partly dying +whenever she heard any unusual bark or bellow added to her piquancy in +their eyes. But conversation, as such, was naturally at first of a +nervous, tentative kind, in which, as in the works of some minor poets, +the sense was considerably led by the sound. + +'You get the sea-breezes here, no doubt?' + +'O yes, dear; when the wind is that way.' + +'Do you like windy weather?' + +'Yes; though not now, for it blows down the young apples.' + +'Apples are plentiful, it seems. You country-folk call St. Swithin's +their christening day, if it rains?' + +'Yes, dear. Ah me! I have not been to a christening for these many +years; the baby's name was George, I remember--after the King.' + +'I hear that King George is still staying at the town here. I _hope_ +he'll stay till I have seen him!' + +'He'll wait till the corn turns yellow; he always does.' + +'How _very_ fashionable yellow is getting for gloves just now!' + +'Yes. Some persons wear them to the elbow, I hear.' + +'Do they? I was not aware of that. I struck my elbow last week so hard +against the door of my aunt's mansion that I feel the ache now.' + +Before they were quite overwhelmed by the interest of this discourse, the +miller and Bob came in. In truth, Mrs. Garland found the office in which +he had placed her--that of introducing a strange woman to a house which +was not the widow's own--a rather awkward one, and yet almost a +necessity. There was no woman belonging to the house except that +wondrous compendium of usefulness, the intermittent maid-servant, whom +Loveday had, for appearances, borrowed from Mrs. Garland, and Mrs. +Garland was in the habit of borrowing from the girl's mother. And as for +the demi-woman David, he had been informed as peremptorily as Pharaoh's +baker that the office of housemaid and bedmaker was taken from him, and +would be given to this girl till the wedding was over, and Bob's wife +took the management into her own hands. + +They all sat down to high tea, Anne and her mother included, and the +captain sitting next to Miss Johnson. Anne had put a brave face upon the +matter--outwardly, at least--and seemed in a fair way of subduing any +lingering sentiment which Bob's return had revived. During the evening, +and while they still sat over the meal, John came down on a hurried +visit, as he had promised, ostensibly on purpose to be introduced to his +intended sister-in-law, but much more to get a word and a smile from his +beloved Anne. Before they saw him, they heard the trumpet-major's smart +step coming round the corner of the house, and in a moment his form +darkened the door. As it was Sunday, he appeared in his full-dress laced +coat, white waistcoat and breeches, and towering plume, the latter of +which he instantly lowered, as much from necessity as good manners, the +beam in the mill-house ceiling having a tendency to smash and ruin all +such head-gear without warning. + +'John, we've been hoping you would come down,' said the miller, 'and so +we have kept the tay about on purpose. Draw up, and speak to Mrs. +Matilda Johnson. . . . Ma'am, this is Robert's brother.' + +'Your humble servant, ma'am,' said the trumpet-major gallantly. + +As it was getting dusk in the low, small-paned room, he instinctively +moved towards Miss Johnson as he spoke, who sat with her back to the +window. He had no sooner noticed her features than his helmet nearly +fell from his hand; his face became suddenly fixed, and his natural +complexion took itself off, leaving a greenish yellow in its stead. The +young person, on her part, had no sooner looked closely at him than she +said weakly, 'Robert's brother!' and changed colour yet more rapidly than +the soldier had done. The faintness, previously half counterfeit, seized +on her now in real earnest. + +'I don't feel well,' she said, suddenly rising by an effort. 'This warm +day has quite upset me!' + +There was a regular collapse of the tea-party, like that of the Hamlet +play scene. Bob seized his sweetheart and carried her upstairs, the +miller exclaiming, 'Ah, she's terribly worn by the journey! I thought +she was when I saw her nearly go off at the blare of the cow. No woman +would have been frightened at that if she'd been up to her natural +strength.' + +'That, and being so very shy of men, too, must have made John's handsome +regimentals quite overpowering to her, poor thing,' added Mrs. Garland, +following the catastrophic young lady upstairs, whose indisposition was +this time beyond question. And yet, by some perversity of the heart, she +was as eager now to make light of her faintness as she had been to make +much of it two or three hours ago. + +The miller and John stood like straight sticks in the room the others had +quitted, John's face being hastily turned towards a caricature of +Buonaparte on the wall that he had not seen more than a hundred and fifty +times before. + +'Come, sit down and have a dish of tea, anyhow,' said his father at last. +'She'll soon be right again, no doubt.' + +'Thanks; I don't want any tea,' said John quickly. And, indeed, he did +not, for he was in one gigantic ache from head to foot. + +The light had been too dim for anybody to notice his amazement; and not +knowing where to vent it, the trumpet-major said he was going out for a +minute. He hastened to the bakehouse; but David being there, he went to +the pantry; but the maid being there, he went to the cart-shed; but a +couple of tramps being there, he went behind a row of French beans in the +garden, where he let off an ejaculation the most pious that he had +uttered that Sabbath day: 'Heaven! what's to be done!' + +And then he walked wildly about the paths of the dusky garden, where the +trickling of the brooks seemed loud by comparison with the stillness +around; treading recklessly on the cracking snails that had come forth to +feed, and entangling his spurs in the long grass till the rowels were +choked with its blades. Presently he heard another person approaching, +and his brother's shape appeared between the stubbard tree and the hedge. + +'O, is it you?' said the mate. + +'Yes. I am--taking a little air.' + +'She is getting round nicely again; and as I am not wanted indoors just +now, I am going into the village to call upon a friend or two I have not +been able to speak to as yet.' + +John took his brother Bob's hand. Bob rather wondered why. + +'All right, old boy,' he said. 'Going into the village? You'll be back +again, I suppose, before it gets very late?' + +'O yes,' said Captain Bob cheerfully, and passed out of the garden. + +John allowed his eyes to follow his brother till his shape could not be +seen, and then he turned and again walked up and down. + + + + +XVIII. THE NIGHT AFTER THE ARRIVAL + + +John continued his sad and heavy pace till walking seemed too old and +worn-out a way of showing sorrow so new, and he leant himself against the +fork of an apple-tree like a log. There the trumpet-major remained for a +considerable time, his face turned towards the house, whose ancient, many- +chimneyed outline rose against the darkened sky, and just shut out from +his view the camp above. But faint noises coming thence from horses +restless at the pickets, and from visitors taking their leave, recalled +its existence, and reminded him that, in consequence of Matilda's +arrival, he had obtained leave for the night--a fact which, owing to the +startling emotions that followed his entry, he had not yet mentioned to +his friends. + +While abstractedly considering how he could best use that privilege under +the new circumstances which had arisen, he heard Farmer Derriman drive up +to the front door and hold a conversation with his father. The old man +had at last apparently brought the tin box of private papers that he +wished the miller to take charge of during Derriman's absence; and it +being a calm night, John could hear, though he little heeded, Uncle +Benjy's reiterated supplications to Loveday to keep it safe from fire and +thieves. Then Uncle Benjy left, and John's father went upstairs to +deposit the box in a place of security, the whole proceeding reaching +John's preoccupied comprehension merely as voices during sleep. + +The next thing was the appearance of a light in the bedroom which had +been assigned to Matilda Johnson. This effectually aroused the trumpet- +major, and with a stealthiness unusual in him he went indoors. No light +was in the lower rooms, his father, Mrs. Garland, and Anne having gone +out on the bridge to look at the new moon. John went upstairs on tip- +toe, and along the uneven passage till he came to her door. It was +standing ajar, a band of candlelight shining across the passage and up +the opposite wall. As soon as he entered the radiance he saw her. She +was standing before the looking-glass, apparently lost in thought, her +fingers being clasped behind her head in abstraction, and the light +falling full upon her face. + +'I must speak to you,' said the trumpet-major. + +She started, turned and grew paler than before; and then, as if moved by +a sudden impulse, she swung the door wide open, and, coming out, said +quite collectedly and with apparent pleasantness, 'O yes; you are my +Bob's brother! I didn't, for a moment, recognize you.' + +'But you do now?' + +'As Bob's brother.' + +'You have not seen me before?' + +'I have not,' she answered, with a face as impassible as Talleyrand's. + +'Good God!' + +'I have not!' she repeated. + +'Nor any of the --th Dragoons? Captain Jolly, for instance?' + +'No.' + +'You mistake. I'll remind you of particulars,' he said drily. And he +did remind her at some length. + +'Never!' she said desperately. + +But she had miscalculated her staying powers, and her adversary's +character. Five minutes after that she was in tears, and the +conversation had resolved itself into words, which, on the soldier's +part, were of the nature of commands, tempered by pity, and were a mere +series of entreaties on hers. + +The whole scene did not last ten minutes. When it was over, the trumpet- +major walked from the doorway where they had been standing, and brushed +moisture from his eyes. Reaching a dark lumber-room, he stood still +there to calm himself, and then descended by a Flemish-ladder to the +bakehouse, instead of by the front stairs. He found that the others, +including Bob, had gathered in the parlour during his absence and lighted +the candles. + +Miss Johnson, having sent down some time before John re-entered the house +to say that she would prefer to keep her room that evening, was not +expected to join them, and on this account Bob showed less than his +customary liveliness. The miller wishing to keep up his son's spirits, +expressed his regret that, it being Sunday night, they could have no +songs to make the evening cheerful; when Mrs. Garland proposed that they +should sing psalms which, by choosing lively tunes and not thinking of +the words, would be almost as good as ballads. + +This they did, the trumpet-major appearing to join in with the rest; but +as a matter of fact no sound came from his moving lips. His mind was in +such a state that he derived no pleasure even from Anne Garland's +presence, though he held a corner of the same book with her, and was +treated in a winsome way which it was not her usual practice to indulge +in. She saw that his mind was clouded, and, far from guessing the reason +why, was doing her best to clear it. + +At length the Garlands found that it was the hour for them to leave, and +John Loveday at the same time wished his father and Bob good-night, and +went as far as Mrs. Garland's door with her. + +He had said not a word to show that he was free to remain out of camp, +for the reason that there was painful work to be done, which it would be +best to do in secret and alone. He lingered near the house till its +reflected window-lights ceased to glimmer upon the mill-pond, and all +within the dwelling was dark and still. Then he entered the garden and +waited there till the back door opened, and a woman's figure timorously +came forward. John Loveday at once went up to her, and they began to +talk in low yet dissentient tones. + +They had conversed about ten minutes, and were parting as if they had +come to some painful arrangement, Miss Johnson sobbing bitterly, when a +head stealthily arose above the dense hedgerow, and in a moment a shout +burst from its owner. + +'Thieves! thieves!--my tin box!--thieves! thieves!' + +Matilda vanished into the house, and John Loveday hastened to the hedge. +'For heaven's sake, hold your tongue, Mr. Derriman!' he exclaimed. + +'My tin box!' said Uncle Benjy. 'O, only the trumpet-major!' + +'Your box is safe enough, I assure you. It was only'--here the trumpet- +major gave vent to an artificial laugh--'only a sly bit of courting, you +know.' + +'Ha, ha, I see!' said the relieved old squireen. 'Courting Miss Anne! +Then you've ousted my nephew, trumpet-major! Well, so much the better. +As for myself, the truth on't is that I haven't been able to go to bed +easy, for thinking that possibly your father might not take care of what +I put under his charge; and at last I thought I would just step over and +see if all was safe here before I turned in. And when I saw your two +shapes my poor nerves magnified ye to housebreakers, and Boneys, and I +don't know what all.' + +'You have alarmed the house,' said the trumpet-major, hearing the +clicking of flint and steel in his father's bedroom, followed in a moment +by the rise of a light in the window of the same apartment. 'You have +got me into difficulty,' he added gloomily, as his father opened the +casement. + +'I am sorry for that,' said Uncle Benjy. 'But step back; I'll put it all +right again.' + +'What, for heaven's sake, is the matter?' said the miller, his tasselled +nightcap appearing in the opening. + +'Nothing, nothing!' said the farmer. 'I was uneasy about my few bonds +and documents, and I walked this way, miller, before going to bed, as I +start from home to-morrow morning. When I came down by your +garden-hedge, I thought I saw thieves, but it turned out to be--to be--' + +Here a lump of earth from the trumpet-major's hand struck Uncle Benjy in +the back as a reminder. + +'To be--the bough of a cherry-tree a-waving in the wind. Good-night.' + +'No thieves are like to try my house,' said Miller Loveday. 'Now don't +you come alarming us like this again, farmer, or you shall keep your box +yourself, begging your pardon for saying so. Good-night t' ye!' + +'Miller, will ye just look, since I am here--just look and see if the box +is all right? there's a good man! I am old, you know, and my poor +remains are not what my original self was. Look and see if it is where +you put it, there's a good, kind man.' + +'Very well,' said the miller good-humouredly. + +'Neighbour Loveday! on second thoughts I will take my box home again, +after all, if you don't mind. You won't deem it ill of me? I have no +suspicion, of course; but now I think on't there's rivalry between my +nephew and your son; and if Festus should take it into his head to set +your house on fire in his enmity, 'twould be bad for my deeds and +documents. No offence, miller, but I'll take the box, if you don't +mind.' + +'Faith! I don't mind,' said Loveday. 'But your nephew had better think +twice before he lets his enmity take that colour.' Receding from the +window, he took the candle to a back part of the room and soon reappeared +with the tin box. + +'I won't trouble ye to dress,' said Derriman considerately; 'let en down +by anything you have at hand.' + +The box was lowered by a cord, and the old man clasped it in his arms. +'Thank ye!' he said with heartfelt gratitude. 'Good-night!' + +The miller replied and closed the window, and the light went out. + +'There, now I hope you are satisfied, sir?' said the trumpet-major. + +'Quite, quite!' said Derriman; and, leaning on his walking-stick, he +pursued his lonely way. + +That night Anne lay awake in her bed, musing on the traits of the new +friend who had come to her neighbour's house. She would not be critical, +it was ungenerous and wrong; but she could not help thinking of what +interested her. And were there, she silently asked, in Miss Johnson's +mind and person such rare qualities as placed that lady altogether beyond +comparison with herself? O yes, there must be; for had not Captain Bob +singled out Matilda from among all other women, herself included? Of +course, with his world-wide experience, he knew best. + +When the moon had set, and only the summer stars threw their light into +the great damp garden, she fancied that she heard voices in that +direction. Perhaps they were the voices of Bob and Matilda taking a +lover's walk before retiring. If so, how sleepy they would be next day, +and how absurd it was of Matilda to pretend she was tired! Ruminating in +this way, and saying to herself that she hoped they would be happy, Anne +fell asleep. + + + + +XIX. MISS JOHNSON'S BEHAVIOUR CAUSES NO LITTLE SURPRISE + + +Partly from the excitement of having his Matilda under the paternal roof, +Bob rose next morning as early as his father and the grinder, and, when +the big wheel began to patter and the little ones to mumble in response, +went to sun himself outside the mill-front, among the fowls of brown and +speckled kinds which haunted that spot, and the ducks that came up from +the mill-tail. + +Standing on the worn-out mill-stone inlaid in the gravel, he talked with +his father on various improvements of the premises, and on the proposed +arrangements for his permanent residence there, with an enjoyment that +was half based upon this prospect of the future, and half on the +penetrating warmth of the sun to his back and shoulders. Then the +different troops of horses began their morning scramble down to the mill- +pond, and, after making it very muddy round the edge, ascended the slope +again. The bustle of the camp grew more and more audible, and presently +David came to say that breakfast was ready. + +'Is Miss Johnson downstairs?' said the miller; and Bob listened for the +answer, looking at a blue sentinel aloft on the down. + +'Not yet, maister,' said the excellent David. + +'We'll wait till she's down,' said Loveday. 'When she is, let us know.' + +David went indoors again, and Loveday and Bob continued their morning +survey by ascending into the mysterious quivering recesses of the mill, +and holding a discussion over a second pair of burr-stones, which had to +be re-dressed before they could be used again. This and similar things +occupied nearly twenty minutes, and, looking from the window, the elder +of the two was reminded of the time of day by seeing Mrs. Garland's table- +cloth fluttering from her back door over the heads of a flock of pigeons +that had alighted for the crumbs. + +'I suppose David can't find us,' he said, with a sense of hunger that was +not altogether strange to Bob. He put out his head and shouted. + +'The lady is not down yet,' said his man in reply. + +'No hurry, no hurry,' said the miller, with cheerful emptiness. 'Bob, to +pass the time we'll look into the garden.' + +'She'll get up sooner than this, you know, when she's signed articles and +got a berth here,' Bob observed apologetically. + +'Yes, yes,' said Loveday; and they descended into the garden. + +Here they turned over sundry flat stones and killed the slugs sheltered +beneath them from the coming heat of the day, talking of slugs in all +their branches--of the brown and the black, of the tough and the tender, +of the reason why there were so many in the garden that year, of the +coming time when the grass-walks harbouring them were to be taken up and +gravel laid, and of the relatively exterminatory merits of a pair of +scissors and the heel of the shoe. At last the miller said, 'Well, +really, Bob, I'm hungry; we must begin without her.' + +They were about to go in, when David appeared with haste in his motions, +his eyes wider vertically than crosswise, and his cheeks nearly all gone. + +'Maister, I've been to call her; and as 'a didn't speak I rapped, and as +'a didn't answer I kicked, and not being latched the door opened, +and--she's gone!' + +Bob went off like a swallow towards the house, and the miller followed +like the rather heavy man that he was. That Miss Matilda was not in her +room, or a scrap of anything belonging to her, was soon apparent. They +searched every place in which she could possibly hide or squeeze herself, +every place in which she could not, but found nothing at all. + +Captain Bob was quite wild with astonishment and grief. When he was +quite sure that she was nowhere in his father's house, he ran into Mrs. +Garland's, and telling them the story so hastily that they hardly +understood the particulars, he went on towards Comfort's house, intending +to raise the alarm there, and also at Mitchell's, Beach's, +Cripplestraw's, the parson's, the clerk's, the camp of dragoons, of +hussars, and so on through the whole county. But he paused, and thought +it would be hardly expedient to publish his discomfiture in such a way. +If Matilda had left the house for any freakish reason he would not care +to look for her, and if her deed had a tragic intent she would keep aloof +from camp and village. + +In his trouble he thought of Anne. She was a nice girl and could be +trusted. To her he went, and found her in a state of excitement and +anxiety which equalled his own. + +''Tis so lonely to cruise for her all by myself!' said Bob +disconsolately, his forehead all in wrinkles, 'and I've thought you would +come with me and cheer the way?' + +'Where shall we search?' said Anne. + +'O, in the holes of rivers, you know, and down wells, and in quarries, +and over cliffs, and like that. Your eyes might catch the loom of any +bit of a shawl or bonnet that I should overlook, and it would do me a +real service. Please do come!' + +So Anne took pity upon him, and put on her hat and went, the miller and +David having gone off in another direction. They examined the ditches of +fields, Bob going round by one fence and Anne by the other, till they met +at the opposite side. Then they peeped under culverts, into outhouses, +and down old wells and quarries, till the theory of a tragical end had +nearly spent its force in Bob's mind, and he began to think that Matilda +had simply run away. However, they still walked on, though by this time +the sun was hot and Anne would gladly have sat down. + +'Now, didn't you think highly of her, Miss Garland?' he inquired, as the +search began to languish. + +'O yes,' said Anne, 'very highly.' + +'She was really beautiful; no nonsense about her looks, was there?' + +'None. Her beauty was thoroughly ripe--not too young. We should all +have got to love her. What can have possessed her to go away?' + +'I don't know, and, upon my life, I shall soon be drove to say I don't +care!' replied the mate despairingly. 'Let me pilot ye down over those +stones,' he added, as Anne began to descend a rugged quarry. He stepped +forward, leapt down, and turned to her. + +She gave him her hand and sprang down. Before he relinquished his hold, +Captain Bob raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. + +'O, Captain Loveday!' cried Anne, snatching away her hand in genuine +dismay, while a tear rose unexpectedly to each eye. 'I never heard of +such a thing! I won't go an inch further with you, sir; it is too +barefaced!' And she turned and ran off. + +'Upon my life I didn't mean it!' said the repentant captain, hastening +after. 'I do love her best--indeed I do--and I don't love you at all! I +am not so fickle as that! I merely just for the moment admired you as a +sweet little craft, and that's how I came to do it. You know, Miss +Garland,' he continued earnestly, and still running after, ''tis like +this: when you come ashore after having been shut up in a ship for +eighteen months, women-folks seem so new and nice that you can't help +liking them, one and all in a body; and so your heart is apt to get +scattered and to yaw a bit; but of course I think of poor Matilda most, +and shall always stick to her.' He heaved a sigh of tremendous +magnitude, to show beyond the possibility of doubt that his heart was +still in the place that honour required. + +'I am glad to hear that--of course I am very glad!' said she, with quick +petulance, keeping her face turned from him. 'And I hope we shall find +her, and that the wedding will not be put off, and that you'll both be +happy. But I won't look for her any more! No; I don't care to look for +her--and my head aches. I am going home!' + +'And so am I,' said Robert promptly. + +'No, no; go on looking for her, of course--all the afternoon, and all +night. I am sure you will, if you love her.' + +'O yes; I mean to. Still, I ought to convoy you home first?' + +'No, you ought not; and I shall not accept your company. Good-morning, +sir!' And she went off over one of the stone stiles with which the spot +abounded, leaving the friendly sailor standing in the field. + +He sighed again, and, observing the camp not far off, thought he would go +to his brother John and ask him his opinion on the sorrowful case. On +reaching the tents he found that John was not at liberty just at that +time, being engaged in practising the trumpeters; and leaving word that +he wished the trumpet-major to come down to the mill as soon as possible, +Bob went back again. + +''Tis no good looking for her,' he said gloomily. 'She liked me well +enough, but when she came here and saw the house, and the place, and the +old horse, and the plain furniture, she was disappointed to find us all +so homely, and felt she didn't care to marry into such a family!' + +His father and David had returned with no news. + +'Yes, 'tis as I've been thinking, father,' Bob said. 'We weren't good +enough for her, and she went away in scorn!' + +'Well, that can't be helped,' said the miller. 'What we be, we be, and +have been for generations. To my mind she seemed glad enough to get hold +of us!' + +'Yes, yes--for the moment--because of the flowers, and birds, and what's +pretty in the place,' said Bob tragically. 'But you don't know, +father--how should you know, who have hardly been out of Overcombe in +your life?--you don't know what delicate feelings are in a real refined +woman's mind. Any little vulgar action unreaves their nerves like a +marline-spike. Now I wonder if you did anything to disgust her?' + +'Faith! not that I know of,' said Loveday, reflecting. 'I didn't say a +single thing that I should naturally have said, on purpose to give no +offence.' + +'You was always very homely, you know, father.' + +'Yes; so I was,' said the miller meekly. + +'I wonder what it could have been,' Bob continued, wandering about +restlessly. 'You didn't go drinking out of the big mug with your mouth +full, or wipe your lips with your sleeve?' + +'That I'll swear I didn't!' said the miller firmly. 'Thinks I, there's +no knowing what I may do to shock her, so I'll take my solid victuals in +the bakehouse, and only a crumb and a drop in her company for manners.' + +'You could do no more than that, certainly,' said Bob gently. + +'If my manners be good enough for well-brought-up people like the +Garlands, they be good enough for her,' continued the miller, with a +sense of injustice. + +'That's true. Then it must have been David. David, come here! How did +you behave before that lady? Now, mind you speak the truth!' + +'Yes, Mr. Captain Robert,' said David earnestly. 'I assure ye she was +served like a royal queen. The best silver spoons wez put down, and yer +poor grandfer's silver tanket, as you seed, and the feather cushion for +her to sit on--' + +'Now I've got it!' said Bob decisively, bringing down his hand upon the +window-sill. 'Her bed was hard!--and there's nothing shocks a true lady +like that. The bed in that room always was as hard as the Rock of +Gibraltar!' + +'No, Captain Bob! The beds were changed--wasn't they maister? We put +the goose bed in her room, and the flock one, that used to be there, in +yours.' + +'Yes, we did,' corroborated the miller. 'David and I changed 'em with +our own hands, because they were too heavy for the women to move.' + +'Sure I didn't know I had the flock bed,' murmured Bob. 'I slept on, +little thinking what I was going to wake to. Well, well, she's gone; and +search as I will I shall never find another like her! She was too good +for me. She must have carried her box with her own hands, poor girl. As +far as that goes, I could overtake her even now, I dare say; but I won't +entreat her against her will--not I.' + +Miller Loveday and David, feeling themselves to be rather a desecration +in the presence of Bob's sacred emotions, managed to edge off by degrees, +the former burying himself in the most floury recesses of the mill, his +invariable resource when perturbed, the rumbling having a soothing effect +upon the nerves of those properly trained to its music. + +Bob was so impatient that, after going up to her room to assure himself +once more that she had not undressed, but had only lain down on the +outside of the bed, he went out of the house to meet John, and waited on +the sunny slope of the down till his brother appeared. John looked so +brave and shapely and warlike that, even in Bob's present distress, he +could not but feel an honest and affectionate pride at owning such a +relative. Yet he fancied that John did not come along with the same +swinging step he had shown yesterday; and when the trumpet-major got +nearer he looked anxiously at the mate and waited for him to speak first. + +'You know our great trouble, John?' said Robert, gazing stoically into +his brother's eyes. + +'Come and sit down, and tell me all about it,' answered the +trumpet-major, showing no surprise. + +They went towards a slight ravine, where it was easier to sit down than +on the flat ground, and here John reclined among the grasshoppers, +pointing to his brother to do the same. + +'But do you know what it is?' said Robert. 'Has anybody told ye?' + +'I do know,' said John. 'She's gone; and I am thankful!' + +'What!' said Bob, rising to his knees in amazement. + +'I'm at the bottom of it,' said the trumpet-major slowly. + +'You, John?' + +'Yes; and if you will listen I'll tell you all. Do you remember what +happened when I came into the room last night? Why, she turned colour +and nearly fainted away. That was because she knew me.' + +Bob stared at his brother with a face of pain and distrust. + +'For once, Bob, I must say something that will hurt thee a good deal,' +continued John. 'She was not a woman who could possibly be your wife--and +so she's gone.' + +'You sent her off?' + +'Well, I did.' + +'John!--Tell me right through--tell me!' + +'Perhaps I had better,' said the trumpet-major, his blue eyes resting on +the far distant sea, that seemed to rise like a wall as high as the hill +they sat upon. + +And then he told a tale of Miss Johnson and the --th Dragoons which wrung +his heart as much in the telling as it did Bob's to hear, and which +showed that John had been temporarily cruel to be ultimately kind. Even +Bob, excited as he was, could discern from John's manner of speaking what +a terrible undertaking that night's business had been for him. To +justify the course he had adopted the dictates of duty must have been +imperative; but the trumpet-major, with a becoming reticence which his +brother at the time was naturally unable to appreciate, scarcely dwelt +distinctly enough upon the compelling cause of his conduct. It would, +indeed, have been hard for any man, much less so modest a one as John, to +do himself justice in that remarkable relation, when the listener was the +lady's lover; and it is no wonder that Robert rose to his feet and put a +greater distance between himself and John. + +'And what time was it?' he asked in a hard, suppressed voice. + +'It was just before one o'clock.' + +'How could you help her to go away?' + +'I had a pass. I carried her box to the coach-office. She was to follow +at dawn.' + +'But she had no money.' + +'Yes, she had; I took particular care of that.' John did not add, as he +might have done, that he had given her, in his pity, all the money he +possessed, and at present had only eighteen-pence in the world. 'Well, +it is over, Bob; so sit ye down, and talk with me of old times,' he +added. + +'Ah, Jack, it is well enough for you to speak like that,' said the +disquieted sailor; 'but I can't help feeling that it is a cruel thing you +have done. After all, she would have been snug enough for me. Would I +had never found out this about her! John, why did you interfere? You +had no right to overhaul my affairs like this. Why didn't you tell me +fairly all you knew, and let me do as I chose? You have turned her out +of the house, and it's a shame! If she had only come to me! Why didn't +she?' + +'Because she knew it was best to do otherwise.' + +'Well, I shall go after her,' said Bob firmly. + +'You can do as you like,' said John; 'but I would advise you strongly to +leave matters where they are.' + +'I won't leave matters where they are,' said Bob impetuously. 'You have +made me miserable, and all for nothing. I tell you she was good enough +for me; and as long as I knew nothing about what you say of her history, +what difference would it have made to me? Never was there a young woman +who was better company; and she loved a merry song as I do myself. Yes, +I'll follow her.' + +'O, Bob,' said John; 'I hardly expected this!' + +'That's because you didn't know your man. Can I ask you to do me one +kindness? I don't suppose I can. Can I ask you not to say a word +against her to any of them at home?' + +'Certainly. The very reason why I got her to go off silently, as she has +done, was because nothing should be said against her here, and no scandal +should be heard of.' + +'That may be; but I'm off after her. Marry that girl I will.' + +'You'll be sorry.' + +'That we shall see,' replied Robert with determination; and he went away +rapidly towards the mill. The trumpet-major had no heart to follow--no +good could possibly come of further opposition; and there on the down he +remained like a graven image till Bob had vanished from his sight into +the mill. + +Bob entered his father's only to leave word that he was going on a +renewed search for Matilda, and to pack up a few necessaries for his +journey. Ten minutes later he came out again with a bundle in his hand, +and John saw him go diagonally across the lower fields towards the high- +road. + +'And this is all the good I have done!' said John, musingly readjusting +his stock where it cut his neck, and descending towards the mill. + + + + +XX. HOW THEY LESSENED THE EFFECT OF THE CALAMITY + + +Meanwhile Anne Garland had gone home, and, being weary with her ramble in +search of Matilda, sat silent in a corner of the room. Her mother was +passing the time in giving utterance to every conceivable surmise on the +cause of Miss Johnson's disappearance that the human mind could frame, to +which Anne returned monosyllabic answers, the result, not of +indifference, but of intense preoccupation. Presently Loveday, the +father, came to the door; her mother vanished with him, and they remained +closeted together a long time. Anne went into the garden and seated +herself beneath the branching tree whose boughs had sheltered her during +so many hours of her residence here. Her attention was fixed more upon +the miller's wing of the irregular building before her than upon that +occupied by her mother, for she could not help expecting every moment to +see some one run out with a wild face and announce some awful clearing up +of the mystery. + +Every sound set her on the alert, and hearing the tread of a horse in the +lane she looked round eagerly. Gazing at her over the hedge was Festus +Derriman, mounted on such an incredibly tall animal that he could see to +her very feet over the thick and broad thorn fence. She no sooner +recognized him than she withdrew her glance; but as his eyes were fixed +steadily upon her this was a futile manoeuvre. + +'I saw you look round!' he exclaimed crossly. 'What have I done to make +you behave like that? Come, Miss Garland, be fair. 'Tis no use to turn +your back upon me.' As she did not turn he went on--'Well, now, this is +enough to provoke a saint. Now I tell you what, Miss Garland; here I'll +stay till you do turn round, if 'tis all the afternoon. You know my +temper--what I say I mean.' He seated himself firmly in the saddle, +plucked some leaves from the hedge, and began humming a song, to show how +absolutely indifferent he was to the flight of time. + +'What have you come for, that you are so anxious to see me?' inquired +Anne, when at last he had wearied her patience, rising and facing him +with the added independence which came from a sense of the hedge between +them. + +'There, I knew you would turn round!' he said, his hot angry face invaded +by a smile in which his teeth showed like white hemmed in by red at +chess. + +'What do you want, Mr. Derriman?' said she. + +'"What do you want, Mr. Derriman?"--now listen to that! Is that my +encouragement?' + +Anne bowed superciliously, and moved away. + +'I have just heard news that explains all that,' said the giant, eyeing +her movements with somnolent irascibility. 'My uncle has been letting +things out. He was here late last night, and he saw you.' + +'Indeed he didn't,' said Anne. + +'O, now! He saw Trumpet-major Loveday courting somebody like you in that +garden walk; and when he came you ran indoors.' + +'It is not true, and I wish to hear no more.' + +'Upon my life, he said so! How can you do it, Miss Garland, when I, who +have enough money to buy up all the Lovedays, would gladly come to terms +with ye? What a simpleton you must be, to pass me over for him! There, +now you are angry because I said simpleton!--I didn't mean simpleton, I +meant misguided--misguided rosebud! That's it--run off,' he continued in +a raised voice, as Anne made towards the garden door. 'But I'll have you +yet. Much reason you have to be too proud to stay with me. But it won't +last long; I shall marry you, madam, if I choose, as you'll see.' + +When he was quite gone, and Anne had calmed down from the not altogether +unrelished fear and excitement that he always caused her, she returned to +her seat under the tree, and began to wonder what Festus Derriman's story +meant, which, from the earnestness of his tone, did not seem like a pure +invention. It suddenly flashed upon her mind that she herself had heard +voices in the garden, and that the persons seen by Farmer Derriman, of +whose visit and reclamation of his box the miller had told her, might +have been Matilda and John Loveday. She further recalled the strange +agitation of Miss Johnson on the preceding evening, and that it occurred +just at the entry of the dragoon, till by degrees suspicion amounted to +conviction that he knew more than any one else supposed of that lady's +disappearance. + +It was just at this time that the trumpet-major descended to the mill +after his talk with his brother on the down. As fate would have it, +instead of entering the house he turned aside to the garden and walked +down that pleasant enclosure, to learn if he were likely to find in the +other half of it the woman he loved so well. + +Yes, there she was, sitting on the seat of logs that he had repaired for +her, under the apple-tree; but she was not facing in his direction. He +walked with a noisier tread, he coughed, he shook a bough, he did +everything, in short, but the one thing that Festus did in the same +circumstances--call out to her. He would not have ventured on that for +the world. Any of his signs would have been sufficient to attract her a +day or two earlier; now she would not turn. At last, in his fond +anxiety, he did what he had never done before without an invitation, and +crossed over into Mrs. Garland's half of the garden, till he stood before +her. + +When she could not escape him she arose, and, saying 'Good afternoon, +trumpet-major,' in a glacial manner unusual with her, walked away to +another part of the garden. + +Loveday, quite at a loss, had not the strength of mind to persevere +further. He had a vague apprehension that some imperfect knowledge of +the previous night's unhappy business had reached her; and, unable to +remedy the evil without telling more than he dared, he went into the +mill, where his father still was, looking doleful enough, what with his +concern at events and the extra quantity of flour upon his face through +sticking so closely to business that day. + +'Well, John; Bob has told you all, of course? A queer, strange, +perplexing thing, isn't it? I can't make it out at all. There must be +something wrong in the woman, or it couldn't have happened. I haven't +been so upset for years.' + +'Nor have I. I wouldn't it should have happened for all I own in the +world,' said the dragoon. 'Have you spoke to Anne Garland to-day--or has +anybody been talking to her?' + +'Festus Derriman rode by half-an-hour ago, and talked to her over the +hedge.' + +John guessed the rest, and, after standing on the threshold in silence +awhile, walked away towards the camp. + +All this time his brother Robert had been hastening along in pursuit of +the woman who had withdrawn from the scene to avoid the exposure and +complete overthrow which would have resulted had she remained. As the +distance lengthened between himself and the mill, Bob was conscious of +some cooling down of the excitement that had prompted him to set out; but +he did not pause in his walk till he had reached the head of the river +which fed the mill-stream. Here, for some indefinite reason, he allowed +his eyes to be attracted by the bubbling spring whose waters never failed +or lessened, and he stopped as if to look longer at the scene; it was +really because his mind was so absorbed by John's story. + +The sun was warm, the spot was a pleasant one, and he deposited his +bundle and sat down. By degrees, as he reflected, first on John's view +and then on his own, his convictions became unsettled; till at length he +was so balanced between the impulse to go on and the impulse to go back, +that a puff of wind either way would have been well-nigh sufficient to +decide for him. When he allowed John's story to repeat itself in his +ears, the reasonableness and good sense of his advice seemed beyond +question. When, on the other hand, he thought of his poor Matilda's +eyes, and her, to him, pleasant ways, their charming arrangements to +marry, and her probable willingness still, he could hardly bring himself +to do otherwise than follow on the road at the top of his speed. + +This strife of thought was so well maintained that sitting and standing, +he remained on the borders of the spring till the shadows had stretched +out eastwards, and the chance of overtaking Matilda had grown +considerably less. Still he did not positively go towards home. At last +he took a guinea from his pocket, and resolved to put the question to the +hazard. 'Heads I go; tails I don't.' The piece of gold spun in the air +and came down heads. + +'No, I won't go, after all,' he said. 'I won't be steered by accidents +any more.' + +He picked up his bundle and switch, and retraced his steps towards +Overcombe Mill, knocking down the brambles and nettles as he went with +gloomy and indifferent blows. When he got within sight of the house he +beheld David in the road. + +'All right--all right again, captain!', shouted that retainer. 'A +wedding after all! Hurrah!' + +'Ah--she's back again?' cried Bob, seizing David, ecstatically, and +dancing round with him. + +'No--but it's all the same! it is of no consequence at all, and no harm +will be done! Maister and Mrs. Garland have made up a match, and mean to +marry at once, that the wedding victuals may not be wasted! They felt +'twould be a thousand pities to let such good things get blue-vinnied for +want of a ceremony to use 'em upon, and at last they have thought of +this.' + +'Victuals--I don't care for the victuals!' bitterly cried Bob, in a tone +of far higher thought. 'How you disappoint me!' and he went slowly +towards the house. + +His father appeared in the opening of the mill-door, looking more +cheerful than when they had parted. 'What, Robert, you've been after +her?' he said. 'Faith, then, I wouldn't have followed her if I had been +as sure as you were that she went away in scorn of us. Since you told me +that, I have not looked for her at all.' + +'I was wrong, father,' Bob replied gravely, throwing down his bundle and +stick. 'Matilda, I find, has not gone away in scorn of us; she has gone +away for other reasons. I followed her some way; but I have come back +again. She may go.' + +'Why is she gone?' said the astonished miller. + +Bob had intended, for Matilda's sake, to give no reason to a living soul +for her departure. But he could not treat his father thus reservedly; +and he told. + +'She has made great fools of us,' said the miller deliberately; 'and she +might have made us greater ones. Bob, I thought th' hadst more sense.' + +'Well, don't say anything against her, father,' implored Bob. ''Twas a +sorry haul, and there's an end on't. Let her down quietly, and keep the +secret. You promise that?' + +'I do.' Loveday the elder remained thinking awhile, and then went +on--'Well, what I was going to say is this: I've hit upon a plan to get +out of the awkward corner she has put us in. What you'll think of it I +can't say.' + +'David has just given me the heads.' + +'And do it hurt your feelings, my son, at such a time?' + +'No--I'll bring myself to bear it, anyhow! Why should I object to other +people's happiness because I have lost my own?' said Bob, with saintly +self-sacrifice in his air. + +'Well said!' answered the miller heartily. 'But you may be sure that +there will be no unseemly rejoicing, to disturb ye in your present frame +of mind. All the morning I felt more ashamed than I cared to own at the +thought of how the neighbours, great and small, would laugh at what they +would call your folly, when they knew what had happened; so I resolved to +take this step to stave it off, if so be 'twas possible. And when I saw +Mrs. Garland I knew I had done right. She pitied me so much for having +had the house cleaned in vain, and laid in provisions to waste, that it +put her into the humour to agree. We mean to do it right off at once, +afore the pies and cakes get mouldy and the blackpot stale. 'Twas a good +thought of mine and hers, and I am glad 'tis settled,' he concluded +cheerfully. + +'Poor Matilda!' murmured Bob. + +'There--I was afraid 'twould hurt thy feelings,' said the miller, with +self-reproach: 'making preparations for thy wedding, and using them for +my own!' + +'No,' said Bob heroically; 'it shall not. It will be a great comfort in +my sorrow to feel that the splendid grub, and the ale, and your stunning +new suit of clothes, and the great table-cloths you've bought, will be +just as useful now as if I had married myself. Poor Matilda! But you +won't expect me to join in--you hardly can. I can sheer off that day +very easily, you know.' + +'Nonsense, Bob!' said the miller reproachfully. + +'I couldn't stand it--I should break down.' + +'Deuce take me if I would have asked her, then, if I had known 'twas +going to drive thee out of the house! Now, come, Bob, I'll find a way of +arranging it and sobering it down, so that it shall be as melancholy as +you can require--in short, just like a funeral, if thou'lt promise to +stay?' + +'Very well,' said the afflicted one. 'On that condition I'll stay.' + + + + +XXI. 'UPON THE HILL HE TURNED' + + +Having entered into this solemn compact with his son, the elder Loveday's +next action was to go to Mrs. Garland, and ask her how the toning down of +the wedding had best be done. 'It is plain enough that to make merry +just now would be slighting Bob's feelings, as if we didn't care who was +not married, so long as we were,' he said. 'But then, what's to be done +about the victuals?' + +'Give a dinner to the poor folk,' she suggested. 'We can get everything +used up that way.' + +'That's true' said the miller. 'There's enough of 'em in these times to +carry off any extras whatsoever.' + +'And it will save Bob's feelings wonderfully. And they won't know that +the dinner was got for another sort of wedding and another sort of +guests; so you'll have their good-will for nothing.' + +The miller smiled at the subtlety of the view. 'That can hardly be +called fair,' he said. 'Still, I did mean some of it for them, for the +friends we meant to ask would not have cleared all.' + +Upon the whole the idea pleased him well, particularly when he noticed +the forlorn look of his sailor son as he walked about the place, and +pictured the inevitably jarring effect of fiddles and tambourines upon +Bob's shattered nerves at such a crisis, even if the notes of the former +were dulled by the application of a mute, and Bob shut up in a distant +bedroom--a plan which had at first occurred to him. He therefore told +Bob that the surcharged larder was to be emptied by the charitable +process above alluded to, and hoped he would not mind making himself +useful in such a good and gloomy work. Bob readily fell in with the +scheme, and it was at once put in hand and the tables spread. + +The alacrity with which the substituted wedding was carried out, seemed +to show that the worthy pair of neighbours would have joined themselves +into one long ago, had there previously occurred any domestic incident +dictating such a step as an apposite expedient, apart from their personal +wish to marry. + +The appointed morning came, and the service quietly took place at the +cheerful hour of ten, in the face of a triangular congregation, of which +the base was the front pew, and the apex the west door. Mrs. Garland +dressed herself in the muslin shawl like Queen Charlotte's, that Bob had +brought home, and her best plum-coloured gown, beneath which peeped out +her shoes with red rosettes. Anne was present, but she considerately +toned herself down, so as not to too seriously damage her mother's +appearance. At moments during the ceremony she had a distressing sense +that she ought not to be born, and was glad to get home again. + +The interest excited in the village, though real, was hardly enough to +bring a serious blush to the face of coyness. Neighbours' minds had +become so saturated by the abundance of showy military and regal incident +lately vouchsafed to them, that the wedding of middle-aged civilians was +of small account, excepting in so far that it solved the question whether +or not Mrs. Garland would consider herself too genteel to mate with a +grinder of corn. + +In the evening, Loveday's heart was made glad by seeing the baked and +boiled in rapid process of consumption by the kitchenful of people +assembled for that purpose. Three-quarters of an hour were sufficient to +banish for ever his fears as to spoilt food. The provisions being the +cause of the assembly, and not its consequence, it had been determined to +get all that would not keep consumed on that day, even if highways and +hedges had to be searched for operators. And, in addition to the poor +and needy, every cottager's daughter known to the miller was invited, and +told to bring her lover from camp--an expedient which, for letting +daylight into the inside of full platters, was among the most happy ever +known. + +While Mr. and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and Bob were standing in the parlour, +discussing the progress of the entertainment in the next room, John, who +had not been down all day, entered the house and looked in upon them +through the open door. + +'How's this, John? Why didn't you come before?' + +'Had to see the captain, and--other duties,' said the trumpet-major, in a +tone which showed no great zeal for explanations. + +'Well, come in, however,' continued the miller, as his son remained with +his hand on the door-post, surveying them reflectively. + +'I cannot stay long,' said John, advancing. 'The Route is come, and we +are going away.' + +'Going away! Where to?' + +'To Exonbury.' + +'When?' + +'Friday morning.' + +'All of you?' + +'Yes; some to-morrow and some next day. The King goes next week.' + +'I am sorry for this,' said the miller, not expressing half his sorrow by +the simple utterance. 'I wish you could have been here to-day, since +this is the case,' he added, looking at the horizon through the window. + +Mrs. Loveday also expressed her regret, which seemed to remind the +trumpet-major of the event of the day, and he went to her and tried to +say something befitting the occasion. Anne had not said that she was +either sorry or glad, but John Loveday fancied that she had looked rather +relieved than otherwise when she heard his news. His conversation with +Bob on the down made Bob's manner, too, remarkably cool, notwithstanding +that he had after all followed his brother's advice, which it was as yet +too soon after the event for him to rightly value. John did not know why +the sailor had come back, never supposing that it was because he had +thought better of going, and said to him privately, 'You didn't overtake +her?' + +'I didn't try to,' said Bob. + +'And you are not going to?' + +'No; I shall let her drift.' + +'I am glad indeed, Bob; you have been wise,' said John heartily. + +Bob, however, still loved Matilda too well to be other than dissatisfied +with John and the event that he had precipitated, which the elder brother +only too promptly perceived; and it made his stay that evening of short +duration. Before leaving he said with some hesitation to his father, +including Anne and her mother by his glance, 'Do you think to come up and +see us off?' + +The miller answered for them all, and said that of course they would +come. 'But you'll step down again between now and then?' he inquired. + +'I'll try to.' He added after a pause, 'In case I should not, remember +that Revalley will sound at half past five; we shall leave about eight. +Next summer, perhaps, we shall come and camp here again.' + +'I hope so,' said his father and Mrs. Loveday. + +There was something in John's manner which indicated to Anne that he +scarcely intended to come down again; but the others did not notice it, +and she said nothing. He departed a few minutes later, in the dusk of +the August evening, leaving Anne still in doubt as to the meaning of his +private meeting with Miss Johnson. + +John Loveday had been going to tell them that on the last night, by an +especial privilege, it would be in his power to come and stay with them +until eleven o'clock, but at the moment of leaving he abandoned the +intention. Anne's attitude had chilled him, and made him anxious to be +off. He utilized the spare hours of that last night in another way. + +This was by coming down from the outskirts of the camp in the evening, +and seating himself near the brink of the mill-pond as soon as it was +quite dark; where he watched the lights in the different windows till one +appeared in Anne's bedroom, and she herself came forward to shut the +casement, with the candle in her hand. The light shone out upon the +broad and deep mill-head, illuminating to a distinct individuality every +moth and gnat that entered the quivering chain of radiance stretching +across the water towards him, and every bubble or atom of froth that +floated into its width. She stood for some time looking out, little +thinking what the darkness concealed on the other side of that wide +stream; till at length she closed the casement, drew the curtains, and +retreated into the room. Presently the light went out, upon which John +Loveday returned to camp and lay down in his tent. + +The next morning was dull and windy, and the trumpets of the --th sounded +Reveille for the last time on Overcombe Down. Knowing that the Dragoons +were going away, Anne had slept heedfully, and was at once awakened by +the smart notes. She looked out of the window, to find that the miller +was already astir, his white form being visible at the end of his garden, +where he stood motionless, watching the preparations. Anne also looked +on as well as she could through the dim grey gloom, and soon she saw the +blue smoke from the cooks' fires creeping fitfully along the ground, +instead of rising in vertical columns, as it had done during the fine +weather season. Then the men began to carry their bedding to the +waggons, and others to throw all refuse into the trenches, till the down +was lively as an ant-hill. Anne did not want to see John Loveday again, +but hearing the household astir, she began to dress at leisure, looking +out at the camp the while. + +When the soldiers had breakfasted, she saw them selling and giving away +their superfluous crockery to the natives who had clustered round; and +then they pulled down and cleared away the temporary kitchens which they +had constructed when they came. A tapping of tent-pegs and wriggling of +picket-posts followed, and soon the cones of white canvas, now almost +become a component part of the landscape, fell to the ground. At this +moment the miller came indoors and asked at the foot of the stairs if +anybody was going up the hill with him. + +Anne felt that, in spite of the cloud hanging over John in her mind, it +would ill become the present moment not to see him off, and she went +downstairs to her mother, who was already there, though Bob was nowhere +to be seen. Each took an arm of the miller, and thus climbed to the top +of the hill. By this time the men and horses were at the place of +assembly, and, shortly after the mill-party reached level ground, the +troops slowly began to move forward. When the trumpet-major, half buried +in his uniform, arms, and horse-furniture, drew near to the spot where +the Lovedays were waiting to see him pass, his father turned anxiously to +Anne and said, 'You will shake hands with John?' + +Anne faintly replied 'Yes,' and allowed the miller to take her forward on +his arm to the trackway, so as to be close to the flank of the +approaching column. It came up, many people on each side grasping the +hands of the troopers in bidding them farewell; and as soon as John +Loveday saw the members of his father's household, he stretched down his +hand across his right pistol for the same performance. The miller gave +his, then Mrs. Loveday gave hers, and then the hand of the trumpet-major +was extended towards Anne. But as the horse did not absolutely stop, it +was a somewhat awkward performance for a young woman to undertake, and, +more on that account than on any other, Anne drew back, and the gallant +trooper passed by without receiving her adieu. Anne's heart reproached +her for a moment; and then she thought that, after all, he was not going +off to immediate battle, and that she would in all probability see him +again at no distant date, when she hoped that the mystery of his conduct +would be explained. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice at her +elbow: 'Thank heaven, he's gone! Now there's a chance for me.' + +She turned, and Festus Derriman was standing by her. + +'There's no chance for you,' she said indignantly. + +'Why not?' + +'Because there's another left!' + +The words had slipped out quite unintentionally, and she blushed quickly. +She would have given anything to be able to recall them; but he had +heard, and said, 'Who?' + +Anne went forward to the miller to avoid replying, and Festus caught her +no more. + +'Has anybody been hanging about Overcombe Mill except Loveday's son the +soldier?' he asked of a comrade. + +'His son the sailor,' was the reply. + +'O--his son the sailor,' said Festus slowly. 'Damn his son the sailor!' + + + + +XXII. THE TWO HOUSEHOLDS UNITED + + +At this particular moment the object of Festus Derriman's fulmination was +assuredly not dangerous as a rival. Bob, after abstractedly watching the +soldiers from the front of the house till they were out of sight, had +gone within doors and seated himself in the mill-parlour, where his +father found him, his elbows resting on the table and his forehead on his +hands, his eyes being fixed upon a document that lay open before him. + +'What art perusing, Bob, with such a long face?' + +Bob sighed, and then Mrs. Loveday and Anne entered. ''Tis only a state- +paper that I fondly thought I should have a use for,' he said gloomily. +And, looking down as before, he cleared his voice, as if moved inwardly +to go on, and began to read in feeling tones from what proved to be his +nullified marriage licence:-- + +'"Timothy Titus Philemon, by permission Bishop of Bristol: To our well- +beloved Robert Loveday, of the parish of Overcombe, Bachelor; and Matilda +Johnson, of the same parish, Spinster. Greeting."' + +Here Anne sighed, but contrived to keep down her sigh to a mere nothing. + +'Beautiful language, isn't it!' said Bob. 'I was never greeted like that +afore!' + +'Yes; I have often thought it very excellent language myself,' said Mrs. +Loveday. + +'Come to that, the old gentleman will greet thee like it again any day +for a couple of guineas,' said the miller. + +'That's not the point, father! You never could see the real meaning of +these things. . . . Well, then he goes on: "Whereas ye are, as it is +alleged, determined to enter into the holy estate of matrimony--" But +why should I read on? It all means nothing now--nothing, and the +splendid words are all wasted upon air. It seems as if I had been hailed +by some venerable hoary prophet, and had turned away, put the helm hard +up, and wouldn't hear.' + +Nobody replied, feeling probably that sympathy could not meet the case, +and Bob went on reading the rest of it to himself, occasionally heaving a +breath like the wind in a ship's shrouds. + +'I wouldn't set my mind so much upon her, if I was thee,' said his father +at last. + +'Why not?' + +'Well, folk might call thee a fool, and say thy brains were turning to +water.' + +Bob was apparently much struck by this thought, and, instead of +continuing the discourse further, he carefully folded up the licence, +went out, and walked up and down the garden. It was startlingly apt what +his father had said; and, worse than that, what people would call him +might be true, and the liquefaction of his brains turn out to be no +fable. By degrees he became much concerned, and the more he examined +himself by this new light the more clearly did he perceive that he was in +a very bad way. + +On reflection he remembered that since Miss Johnson's departure his +appetite had decreased amazingly. He had eaten in meat no more than +fourteen or fifteen ounces a day, but one-third of a quartern pudding on +an average, in vegetables only a small heap of potatoes and half a York +cabbage, and no gravy whatever; which, considering the usual appetite of +a seaman for fresh food at the end of a long voyage, was no small index +of the depression of his mind. Then he had waked once every night, and +on one occasion twice. While dressing each morning since the gloomy day +he had not whistled more than seven bars of a hornpipe without stopping +and falling into thought of a most painful kind; and he had told none but +absolutely true stories of foreign parts to the neighbouring villagers +when they saluted and clustered about him, as usual, for anything he +chose to pour forth--except that story of the whale whose eye was about +as large as the round pond in Derriman's ewe-lease--which was like +tempting fate to set a seal for ever upon his tongue as a traveller. All +this enervation, mental and physical, had been produced by Matilda's +departure. + +He also considered what he had lost of the rational amusements of manhood +during these unfortunate days. He might have gone to the neighbouring +fashionable resort every afternoon, stood before Gloucester Lodge till +the King and Queen came out, held his hat in his hand, and enjoyed their +Majesties' smiles at his homage all for nothing--watched the +picket-mounting, heard the different bands strike up, observed the staff; +and, above all, have seen the pretty town girls go trip-trip-trip along +the esplanade, deliberately fixing their innocent eyes on the distant +sea, the grey cliffs, and the sky, and accidentally on the soldiers and +himself. + +'I'll raze out her image,' he said. 'She shall make a fool of me no +more.' And his resolve resulted in conduct which had elements of real +greatness. + +He went back to his father, whom he found in the mill-loft. ''Tis true, +father, what you say,' he observed: 'my brains will turn to bilge-water +if I think of her much longer. By the oath of a--navigator, I wish I +could sigh less and laugh more! She's gone--why can't I let her go, and +be happy? But how begin?' + +'Take it careless, my son,' said the miller, 'and lay yourself out to +enjoy snacks and cordials.' + +'Ah--that's a thought!' said Bob. + +'Baccy is good for't. So is sperrits. Though I don't advise thee to +drink neat.' + +'Baccy--I'd almost forgot it!' said Captain Loveday. + +He went to his room, hastily untied the package of tobacco that he had +brought home, and began to make use of it in his own way, calling to +David for a bottle of the old household mead that had lain in the cellar +these eleven years. He was discovered by his father three-quarters of an +hour later as a half-invisible object behind a cloud of smoke. + +The miller drew a breath of relief. 'Why, Bob,' he said, 'I thought the +house was a-fire!' + +'I'm smoking rather fast to drown my reflections, father. 'Tis no use to +chaw.' + +To tempt his attenuated appetite the unhappy mate made David cook an +omelet and bake a seed-cake, the latter so richly compounded that it +opened to the knife like a freckled buttercup. With the same object he +stuck night-lines into the banks of the mill-pond, and drew up next +morning a family of fat eels, some of which were skinned and prepared for +his breakfast. They were his favourite fish, but such had been his +condition that, until the moment of making this effort, he had quite +forgotten their existence at his father's back-door. + +In a few days Bob Loveday had considerably improved in tone and vigour. +One other obvious remedy for his dejection was to indulge in the society +of Miss Garland, love being so much more effectually got rid of by +displacement than by attempted annihilation. But Loveday's belief that +he had offended her beyond forgiveness, and his ever-present sense of her +as a woman who by education and antecedents was fitted to adorn a higher +sphere than his own, effectually kept him from going near her for a long +time, notwithstanding that they were inmates of one house. The reserve +was, however, in some degree broken by the appearance one morning, later +in the season, of the point of a saw through the partition which divided +Anne's room from the Loveday half of the house. Though she dined and +supped with her mother and the Loveday family, Miss Garland had still +continued to occupy her old apartments, because she found it more +convenient there to pursue her hobbies of wool-work and of copying her +father's old pictures. The division wall had not as yet been broken +down. + +As the saw worked its way downwards under her astonished gaze Anne jumped +up from her drawing; and presently the temporary canvasing and papering +which had sealed up the old door of communication was cut completely +through. The door burst open, and Bob stood revealed on the other side, +with the saw in his hand. + +'I beg your ladyship's pardon,' he said, taking off the hat he had been +working in, as his handsome face expanded into a smile. 'I didn't know +this door opened into your private room.' + +'Indeed, Captain Loveday!' + +'I am pulling down the division on principle, as we are now one family. +But I really thought the door opened into your passage.' + +'It don't matter; I can get another room.' + +'Not at all. Father wouldn't let me turn you out. I'll close it up +again.' + +But Anne was so interested in the novelty of a new doorway that she +walked through it, and found herself in a dark low passage which she had +never seen before. + +'It leads to the mill,' said Bob. 'Would you like to go in and see it at +work? But perhaps you have already.' + +'Only into the ground floor.' + +'Come all over it. I am practising as grinder, you know, to help my +father.' + +She followed him along the dark passage, in the side of which he opened a +little trap, when she saw a great slimy cavern, where the long arms of +the mill-wheel flung themselves slowly and distractedly round, and +splashing water-drops caught the little light that strayed into the +gloomy place, turning it into stars and flashes. A cold mist-laden puff +of air came into their faces, and the roar from within made it necessary +for Anne to shout as she said, 'It is dismal! let us go on.' + +Bob shut the trap, the roar ceased, and they went on to the inner part of +the mill, where the air was warm and nutty, and pervaded by a fog of +flour. Then they ascended the stairs, and saw the stones lumbering round +and round, and the yellow corn running down through the hopper. They +climbed yet further to the top stage, where the wheat lay in bins, and +where long rays like feelers stretched in from the sun through the little +window, got nearly lost among cobwebs and timber, and completed their +course by marking the opposite wall with a glowing patch of gold. + +In his earnestness as an exhibitor Bob opened the bolter, which was +spinning rapidly round, the result being that a dense cloud of flour +rolled out in their faces, reminding Anne that her complexion was +probably much paler by this time than when she had entered the mill. She +thanked her companion for his trouble, and said she would now go down. He +followed her with the same deference as hitherto, and with a sudden and +increasing sense that of all cures for his former unhappy passion this +would have been the nicest, the easiest, and the most effectual, if he +had only been fortunate enough to keep her upon easy terms. But Miss +Garland showed no disposition to go further than accept his services as a +guide; she descended to the open air, shook the flour from her like a +bird, and went on into the garden amid the September sunshine, whose rays +lay level across the blue haze which the earth gave forth. The gnats +were dancing up and down in airy companies, the nasturtium flowers shone +out in groups from the dark hedge over which they climbed, and the mellow +smell of the decline of summer was exhaled by everything. Bob followed +her as far as the gate, looked after her, thought of her as the same girl +who had half encouraged him years ago, when she seemed so superior to +him; though now they were almost equal she apparently thought him beneath +her. It was with a new sense of pleasure that his mind flew to the fact +that she was now an inmate of his father's house. + +His obsequious bearing was continued during the next week. In the busy +hours of the day they seldom met, but they regularly encountered each +other at meals, and these cheerful occasions began to have an interest +for him quite irrespective of dishes and cups. When Anne entered and +took her seat she was always loudly hailed by Miller Loveday as he +whetted his knife; but from Bob she condescended to accept no such +familiar greeting, and they often sat down together as if each had a +blind eye in the direction of the other. Bob sometimes told serious and +correct stories about sea-captains, pilots, boatswains, mates, able +seamen, and other curious fauna of the marine world; but these were +directly addressed to his father and Mrs. Loveday, Anne being included at +the clinching-point by a glance only. He sometimes opened bottles of +sweet cider for her, and then she thanked him; but even this did not lead +to her encouraging his chat. + +One day when Anne was paring an apple she was left at table with the +young man. 'I have made something for you,' he said. + +She looked all over the table; nothing was there save the ordinary +remnants. + +'O I don't mean that it is here; it is out by the bridge at the +mill-head.' + +He arose, and Anne followed with curiosity in her eyes, and with her firm +little mouth pouted up to a puzzled shape. On reaching the mossy mill- +head she found that he had fixed in the keen damp draught which always +prevailed over the wheel an AEolian harp of large size. At present the +strings were partly covered with a cloth. He lifted it, and the wires +began to emit a weird harmony which mingled curiously with the plashing +of the wheel. + +'I made it on purpose for you, Miss Garland,' he said. + +She thanked him very warmly, for she had never seen anything like such an +instrument before, and it interested her. 'It was very thoughtful of you +to make it,' she added. 'How came you to think of such a thing?' + +'O I don't know exactly,' he replied, as if he did not care to be +questioned on the point. 'I have never made one in my life till now.' + +Every night after this, during the mournful gales of autumn, the strange +mixed music of water, wind, and strings met her ear, swelling and sinking +with an almost supernatural cadence. The character of the instrument was +far enough removed from anything she had hitherto seen of Bob's hobbies; +so that she marvelled pleasantly at the new depths of poetry this +contrivance revealed as existent in that young seaman's nature, and +allowed her emotions to flow out yet a little further in the old +direction, notwithstanding her late severe resolve to bar them back. + +One breezy night, when the mill was kept going into the small hours, and +the wind was exactly in the direction of the water-current, the music so +mingled with her dreams as to wake her: it seemed to rhythmically set +itself to the words, 'Remember me! think of me!' She was much impressed; +the sounds were almost too touching; and she spoke to Bob the next +morning on the subject. + +'How strange it is that you should have thought of fixing that harp where +the water gushes!' she gently observed. 'It affects me almost painfully +at night. You are poetical, Captain Bob. But it is too--too sad!' + +'I will take it away,' said Captain Bob promptly. 'It certainly is too +sad; I thought so myself. I myself was kept awake by it one night.' + +'How came you to think of making such a peculiar thing?' + +'Well,' said Bob, 'it is hardly worth saying why. It is not a good place +for such a queer noisy machine; and I'll take it away.' + +'On second thoughts,' said Anne, 'I should like it to remain a little +longer, because it sets me thinking.' + +'Of me?' he asked with earnest frankness. + +Anne's colour rose fast. + +'Well, yes,' she said, trying to infuse much plain matter-of-fact into +her voice. 'Of course I am led to think of the person who invented it.' + +Bob seemed unaccountably embarrassed, and the subject was not pursued. +About half-an-hour later he came to her again, with something of an +uneasy look. + +'There was a little matter I didn't tell you just now, Miss Garland,' he +said. 'About that harp thing, I mean. I did make it, certainly, but it +was my brother John who asked me to do it, just before he went away. John +is very musical, as you know, and he said it would interest you; but as +he didn't ask me to tell, I did not. Perhaps I ought to have, and not +have taken the credit to myself.' + +'O, it is nothing!' said Anne quickly. 'It is a very incomplete +instrument after all, and it will be just as well for you to take it away +as you first proposed.' + +He said that he would, but he forgot to do it that day; and the following +night there was a high wind, and the harp cried and moaned so movingly +that Anne, whose window was quite near, could hardly bear the sound with +its new associations. John Loveday was present to her mind all night as +an ill-used man; and yet she could not own that she had ill-used him. + +The harp was removed next day. Bob, feeling that his credit for +originality was damaged in her eyes, by way of recovering it set himself +to paint the summer-house which Anne frequented, and when he came out he +assured her that it was quite his own idea. + +'It wanted doing, certainly,' she said, in a neutral tone. + +'It is just about troublesome.' + +'Yes; you can't quite reach up. That's because you are not very tall; is +it not, Captain Loveday?' + +'You never used to say things like that.' + +'O, I don't mean that you are much less than tall! Shall I hold the +paint for you, to save your stepping down?' + +'Thank you, if you would.' + +She took the paint-pot, and stood looking at the brush as it moved up and +down in his hand. + +'I hope I shall not sprinkle your fingers,' he observed as he dipped. + +'O, that would not matter! You do it very well.' + +'I am glad to hear that you think so.' + +'But perhaps not quite so much art is demanded to paint a summer-house as +to paint a picture?' + +Thinking that, as a painter's daughter, and a person of education +superior to his own, she spoke with a flavour of sarcasm, he felt humbled +and said-- + +'You did not use to talk like that to me.' + +'I was perhaps too young then to take any pleasure in giving pain,' she +observed daringly. + +'Does it give you pleasure?' + +Anne nodded. + +'I like to give pain to people who have given pain to me,' she said +smartly, without removing her eyes from the green liquid in her hand. + +'I ask your pardon for that.' + +'I didn't say I meant you--though I did mean you.' + +Bob looked and looked at her side face till he was bewitched into putting +down his brush. + +'It was that stupid forgetting of 'ee for a time!' he exclaimed. 'Well, +I hadn't seen you for so very long--consider how many years! O, dear +Anne!' he said, advancing to take her hand, 'how well we knew one another +when we were children! You was a queen to me then; and so you are now, +and always.' + +Possibly Anne was thrilled pleasantly enough at having brought the truant +village lad to her feet again; but he was not to find the situation so +easy as he imagined, and her hand was not to be taken yet. + +'Very pretty!' she said, laughing. 'And only six weeks since Miss +Johnson left.' + +'Zounds, don't say anything about that!' implored Bob. 'I swear that I +never--never deliberately loved her--for a long time together, that is; +it was a sudden sort of thing, you know. But towards you--I have more or +less honoured and respectfully loved you, off and on, all my life. There, +that's true.' + +Anne retorted quickly-- + +'I am willing, off and on, to believe you, Captain Robert. But I don't +see any good in your making these solemn declarations.' + +'Give me leave to explain, dear Miss Garland. It is to get you to be +pleased to renew an old promise--made years ago--that you'll think o' +me.' + +'Not a word of any promise will I repeat.' + +'Well, well, I won't urge 'ee to-day. Only let me beg of you to get over +the quite wrong notion you have of me; and it shall be my whole endeavour +to fetch your gracious favour.' + +Anne turned away from him and entered the house, whither in the course of +a quarter of an hour he followed her, knocking at her door, and asking to +be let in. She said she was busy; whereupon he went away, to come back +again in a short time and receive the same answer. + +'I have finished painting the summer-house for you,' he said through the +door. + +'I cannot come to see it. I shall be engaged till supper-time.' + +She heard him breathe a heavy sigh and withdraw, murmuring something +about his bad luck in being cut away from the starn like this. But it +was not over yet. When supper-time came and they sat down together, she +took upon herself to reprove him for what he had said to her in the +garden. + +Bob made his forehead express despair. + +'Now, I beg you this one thing,' he said. 'Just let me know your whole +mind. Then I shall have a chance to confess my faults and mend them, or +clear my conduct to your satisfaction.' + +She answered with quickness, but not loud enough to be heard by the old +people at the other end of the table--'Then, Captain Loveday, I will tell +you one thing, one fault, that perhaps would have been more proper to my +character than to yours. You are too easily impressed by new faces, and +that gives me a _bad opinion_ of you--yes, a _bad opinion_.' + +'O, that's it!' said Bob slowly, looking at her with the intense respect +of a pupil for a master, her words being spoken in a manner so precisely +between jest and earnest that he was in some doubt how they were to be +received. 'Impressed by new faces. It is wrong, certainly, of me.' + +The popping of a cork, and the pouring out of strong beer by the miller +with a view to giving it a head, were apparently distractions sufficient +to excuse her in not attending further to him; and during the remainder +of the sitting her gentle chiding seemed to be sinking seriously into his +mind. Perhaps her own heart ached to see how silent he was; but she had +always meant to punish him. Day after day for two or three weeks she +preserved the same demeanour, with a self-control which did justice to +her character. And, on his part, considering what he had to put up +with--how she eluded him, snapped him off, refused to come out when he +called her, refused to see him when he wanted to enter the little parlour +which she had now appropriated to her private use, his patience testified +strongly to his good-humour. + + + + +XXIII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS ON AN EXTENDED SCALE + + +Christmas had passed. Dreary winter with dark evenings had given place +to more dreary winter with light evenings. Rapid thaws had ended in +rain, rain in wind, wind in dust. Showery days had come--the season of +pink dawns and white sunsets; and people hoped that the March weather was +over. + +The chief incident that concerned the household at the mill was that the +miller, following the example of all his neighbours, had become a +volunteer, and duly appeared twice a week in a red, long-tailed military +coat, pipe-clayed breeches, black cloth gaiters, a heel-balled helmet- +hat, with a tuft of green wool, and epaulettes of the same colour and +material. Bob still remained neutral. Not being able to decide whether +to enrol himself as a sea-fencible, a local militia-man, or a volunteer, +he simply went on dancing attendance upon Anne. Mrs. Loveday had become +awake to the fact that the pair of young people stood in a curious +attitude towards each other; but as they were never seen with their heads +together, and scarcely ever sat even in the same room, she could not be +sure what their movements meant. + +Strangely enough (or perhaps naturally enough), since entering the +Loveday family herself, she had gradually grown to think less favourably +of Anne doing the same thing, and reverted to her original idea of +encouraging Festus; this more particularly because he had of late shown +such perseverance in haunting the precincts of the mill, presumably with +the intention of lighting upon the young girl. But the weather had kept +her mostly indoors. + +One afternoon it was raining in torrents. Such leaves as there were on +trees at this time of year--those of the laurel and other +evergreens--staggered beneath the hard blows of the drops which fell upon +them, and afterwards could be seen trickling down the stems beneath and +silently entering the ground. The surface of the mill-pond leapt up in a +thousand spirts under the same downfall, and clucked like a hen in the +rat-holes along the banks as it undulated under the wind. The only dry +spot visible from the front windows of the mill-house was the inside of a +small shed, on the opposite side of the courtyard. While Mrs. Loveday +was noticing the threads of rain descending across its interior shade, +Festus Derriman walked up and entered it for shelter, which, owing to the +lumber within, it but scantily afforded to a man who would have been a +match for one of Frederick William's Patagonians. + +It was an excellent opportunity for helping on her scheme. Anne was in +the back room, and by asking him in till the rain was over she would +bring him face to face with her daughter, whom, as the days went on, she +increasingly wished to marry other than a Loveday, now that the romance +of her own alliance with the millet had in some respects worn off. She +was better provided for than before; she was not unhappy; but the plain +fact was that she had married beneath her. She beckoned to Festus +through the window-pane; he instantly complied with her signal, having in +fact placed himself there on purpose to be noticed; for he knew that Miss +Garland would not be out-of-doors on such a day. + +'Good afternoon, Mrs. Loveday,' said Festus on entering. 'There now--if +I didn't think that's how it would be!' His voice had suddenly warmed to +anger, for he had seen a door close in the back part of the room, a lithe +figure having previously slipped through. + +Mrs. Loveday turned, observed that Anne was gone, and said, 'What is it?' +as if she did not know. + +'O, nothing, nothing!' said Festus crossly. 'You know well enough what +it is, ma'am; only you make pretence otherwise. But I'll bring her to +book yet. You shall drop your haughty airs, my charmer! She little +thinks I have kept an account of 'em all.' + +'But you must treat her politely, sir,' said Mrs. Loveday, secretly +pleased at these signs of uncontrollable affection. + +'Don't tell me of politeness or generosity, ma'am! She is more than a +match for me. She regularly gets over me. I have passed by this house +five-and-fifty times since last Martinmas, and this is all my reward +for't!' + +'But you will stay till the rain is over, sir?' + +'No. I don't mind rain. I'm off again. She's got somebody else in her +eye!' And the yeoman went out, slamming the door. + +Meanwhile the slippery object of his hopes had gone along the dark +passage, passed the trap which opened on the wheel, and through the door +into the mill, where she was met by Bob, who looked up from the flour- +shoot inquiringly and said, 'You want me, Miss Garland?' + +'O no,' said she. 'I only want to be allowed to stand here a few +minutes.' + +He looked at her to know if she meant it, and finding that she did, +returned to his post. When the mill had rumbled on a little longer he +came back. + +'Bob,' she said, when she saw him move, 'remember that you are at work, +and have no time to stand close to me.' + +He bowed and went to his original post again, Anne watching from the +window till Festus should leave. The mill rumbled on as before, and at +last Bob came to her for the third time. 'Now, Bob--' she began. + +'On my honour, 'tis only to ask a question. Will you walk with me to +church next Sunday afternoon?' + +'Perhaps I will,' she said. But at this moment the yeoman left the +house, and Anne, to escape further parley, returned to the dwelling by +the way she had come. + +Sunday afternoon arrived, and the family was standing at the door waiting +for the church bells to begin. From that side of the house they could +see southward across a paddock to the rising ground further ahead, where +there grew a large elm-tree, beneath whose boughs footpaths crossed in +different directions, like meridians at the pole. The tree was old, and +in summer the grass beneath it was quite trodden away by the feet of the +many trysters and idlers who haunted the spot. The tree formed a +conspicuous object in the surrounding landscape. + +While they looked, a foot soldier in red uniform and white breeches came +along one of the paths, and stopping beneath the elm, took from his +pocket a paper, which he proceeded to nail up by the four corners to the +trunk. He drew back, looked at it, and went on his way. Bob got his +glass from indoors and levelled it at the placard, but after looking for +a long time he could make out nothing but a lion and a unicorn at the +top. Anne, who was ready for church, moved away from the door, though it +was yet early, and showed her intention of going by way of the elm. The +paper had been so impressively nailed up that she was curious to read it +even at this theological time. Bob took the opportunity of following, +and reminded her of her promise. + +'Then walk behind me not at all close,' she said. + +'Yes,' he replied, immediately dropping behind. + +The ludicrous humility of his manner led her to add playfully over her +shoulder, 'It serves you right, you know.' + +'I deserve anything, but I must take the liberty to say that I hope my +behaviour about Matil--, in forgetting you awhile, will not make ye wish +to keep me _always_ behind?' + +She replied confidentially, 'Why I am so earnest not to be seen with you +is that I may appear to people to be independent of you. Knowing what I +do of your weaknesses I can do no otherwise. You must be schooled into--' + +'O, Anne,' sighed Bob, 'you hit me hard--too hard! If ever I do win you +I am sure I shall have fairly earned you.' + +'You are not what you once seemed to be,' she returned softly. 'I don't +quite like to let myself love you.' The last words were not very +audible, and as Bob was behind he caught nothing of them, nor did he see +how sentimental she had become all of a sudden. They walked the rest of +the way in silence, and coming to the tree read as follows:-- + + ADDRESS TO ALL RANKS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLISHMEN. + + FRIENDS AND COUNTRYMEN,--The French are now assembling the largest + force that ever was prepared to invade this Kingdom, with the + professed purpose of effecting our complete Ruin and Destruction. They + do not disguise their intentions, as they have often done to other + Countries; but openly boast that they will come over in such Numbers + as cannot be resisted. + + Wherever the French have lately appeared they have spared neither Rich + nor Poor, Old nor Young; but like a Destructive Pestilence have laid + waste and destroyed every Thing that before was fair and flourishing. + + On this occasion no man's service is compelled, but you are invited + voluntarily to come forward in defence of everything that is dear to + you, by entering your Names on the Lists which are sent to the Tything- + man of every Parish, and engaging to act either as _Associated + Volunteers bearing Arms_, _as Pioneers and Labourers_, or as _Drivers + of Waggons_. + + As Associated Volunteers you will be called out only once a week, + unless the actual Landing of the Enemy should render your further + Services necessary. + + As Pioneers or Labourers you will be employed in Breaking up Roads to + hinder the Enemy's advance. + + Those who have Pickaxes, Spades, Shovels, Bill-hooks, or other Working + Implements, are desired to mention them to the Constable or Tything- + man of their Parish, in order that they may be entered on the Lists + opposite their Homes, to be used if necessary. . . . + + It is thought desirable to give you this Explanation, that you may not + be ignorant of the Duties to which you may be called. But if the love + of true Liberty and honest Fame has not ceased to animate the Hearts + of Englishmen, Pay, though necessary, will be the least Part of your + Reward. You will find your best Recompense in having done your Duty + to your King and Country by driving back or destroying your old and + implacable Enemy, envious of your Freedom and Happiness, and therefore + seeking to destroy them; in having protected your Wives and Children + from Death, or worse than Death, which will follow the Success of such + Inveterate Foes. + + ROUSE, therefore, and unite as one man in the best of Causes! United + we may defy the World to conquer us; but Victory will never belong to + those who are slothful and unprepared. {207} + +'I must go and join at once!' said Bob. + +Anne turned to him, all the playfulness gone from her face. 'I wish we +lived in the north of England, Bob, so as to be further away from where +he'll land!' she murmured uneasily. + +'Where we are would be Paradise to me, if you would only make it so.' + +'It is not right to talk so lightly at such a serious time,' she +thoughtfully returned, going on towards the church. + +On drawing near, they saw through the boughs of a clump of intervening +trees, still leafless, but bursting into buds of amber hue, a glittering +which seemed to be reflected from points of steel. In a few moments they +heard above the tender chiming of the church bells the loud voice of a +man giving words of command, at which all the metallic points suddenly +shifted like the bristles of a porcupine, and glistened anew. + +''Tis the drilling,' said Loveday. 'They drill now between the services, +you know, because they can't get the men together so readily in the week. +It makes me feel that I ought to be doing more than I am!' + +When they had passed round the belt of trees, the company of recruits +became visible, consisting of the able-bodied inhabitants of the hamlets +thereabout, more or less known to Bob and Anne. They were assembled on +the green plot outside the churchyard-gate, dressed in their common +clothes, and the sergeant who had been putting them through their drill +was the man who nailed up the proclamation. He was now engaged in +untying a canvas money-bag, from which he drew forth a handful of +shillings, giving one to each man in payment for his attendance. + +'Men, I dismissed ye too soon--parade, parade again, I say,' he cried. +'My watch is fast, I find. There's another twenty minutes afore the +worship of God commences. Now all of you that ha'n't got firelocks, fall +in at the lower end. Eyes right and dress!' + +As every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, those at the end of +the line pressed forward for that purpose, till the line assumed the form +of a bow. + +'Look at ye now! Why, you are all a crooking in! Dress, dress!' + +They dressed forthwith; but impelled by the same motive they soon resumed +their former figure, and so they were despairingly permitted to remain. + +'Now, I hope you'll have a little patience,' said the sergeant, as he +stood in the centre of the arc, 'and pay strict attention to the word of +command, just exactly as I give it out to ye; and if I should go wrong, I +shall be much obliged to any friend who'll put me right again, for I have +only been in the army three weeks myself, and we are all liable to +mistakes.' + +'So we be, so we be,' said the line heartily. + +''Tention, the whole, then. Poise fawlocks! Very well done!' + +'Please, what must we do that haven't got no firelocks!' said the lower +end of the line in a helpless voice. + +'Now, was ever such a question! Why, you must do nothing at all, but +think _how_ you'd poise 'em _if_ you had 'em. You middle men, that are +armed with hurdle-sticks and cabbage-stumps just to make-believe, must of +course use 'em as if they were the real thing. Now then, cock fawlocks! +Present! Fire! (Pretend to, I mean, and the same time throw yer +imagination into the field o' battle.) Very good--very good indeed; +except that some of you were a _little_ too soon, and the rest a _little_ +too late.' + +'Please, sergeant, can I fall out, as I am master-player in the choir, +and my bass-viol strings won't stand at this time o' year, unless they be +screwed up a little before the passon comes in?' + +'How can you think of such trifles as churchgoing at such a time as this, +when your own native country is on the point of invasion?' said the +sergeant sternly. 'And, as you know, the drill ends three minutes afore +church begins, and that's the law, and it wants a quarter of an hour yet. +Now, at the word _Prime_, shake the powder (supposing you've got it) into +the priming-pan, three last fingers behind the rammer; then shut your +pans, drawing your right arm nimble-like towards your body. I ought to +have told ye before this, that at _Hand your katridge_, seize it and +bring it with a quick motion to your mouth, bite the top well off, and +don't swaller so much of the powder as to make ye hawk and spet instead +of attending to your drill. What's that man a-saying of in the rear +rank?' + +'Please, sir, 'tis Anthony Cripplestraw, wanting to know how he's to bite +off his katridge, when he haven't a tooth left in 's head?' + +'Man! Why, what's your genius for war? Hold it up to your right-hand +man's mouth, to be sure, and let him nip it off for ye. Well, what have +you to say, Private Tremlett? Don't ye understand English?' + +'Ask yer pardon, sergeant; but what must we infantry of the awkward squad +do if Boney comes afore we get our firelocks?' + +'Take a pike, like the rest of the incapables. You'll find a store of +them ready in the corner of the church tower. Now then--Shoulder--r--r--r--' + +'There, they be tinging in the passon!' exclaimed David, Miller Loveday's +man, who also formed one of the company, as the bells changed from +chiming all three together to a quick beating of one. The whole line +drew a breath of relief, threw down their arms, and began running off. + +'Well, then, I must dismiss ye,' said the sergeant. 'Come back--come +back! Next drill is Tuesday afternoon at four. And, mind, if your +masters won't let ye leave work soon enough, tell me, and I'll write a +line to Gover'ment! 'Tention! To the right--left wheel, I mean--no, +no--right wheel. Mar--r--r--rch!' + +Some wheeled to the right and some to the left, and some obliging men, +including Cripplestraw, tried to wheel both ways. + +'Stop, stop; try again! 'Cruits and comrades, unfortunately when I'm in +a hurry I can never remember my right hand from my left, and never could +as a boy. You must excuse me, please. Practice makes perfect, as the +saying is; and, much as I've learnt since I 'listed, we always find +something new. Now then, right wheel! march! halt! Stand at ease! +dismiss! I think that's the order o't, but I'll look in the Gover'ment +book afore Tuesday.' {211} + +Many of the company who had been drilled preferred to go off and spend +their shillings instead of entering the church; but Anne and Captain Bob +passed in. Even the interior of the sacred edifice was affected by the +agitation of the times. The religion of the country had, in fact, +changed from love of God to hatred of Napoleon Buonaparte; and, as if to +remind the devout of this alteration, the pikes for the pikemen (all +those accepted men who were not otherwise armed) were kept in the church +of each parish. There, against the wall, they always stood--a whole +sheaf of them, formed of new ash stems, with a spike driven in at one +end, the stick being preserved from splitting by a ferule. And there +they remained, year after year, in the corner of the aisle, till they +were removed and placed under the gallery stairs, and thence ultimately +to the belfry, where they grew black, rusty, and worm-eaten, and were +gradually stolen and carried off by sextons, parish clerks, whitewashers, +window-menders, and other church servants for use at home as rake-stems, +benefit-club staves, and pick-handles, in which degraded situations they +may still occasionally be found. + +But in their new and shining state they had a terror for Anne, whose eyes +were involuntarily drawn towards them as she sat at Bob's side during the +service, filling her with bloody visions of their possible use not far +from the very spot on which they were now assembled. The sermon, too, +was on the subject of patriotism; so that when they came out she began to +harp uneasily upon the probability of their all being driven from their +homes. + +Bob assured her that with the sixty thousand regulars, the militia +reserve of a hundred and twenty thousand, and the three hundred thousand +volunteers, there was not much to fear. + +'But I sometimes have a fear that poor John will be killed,' he continued +after a pause. 'He is sure to be among the first that will have to face +the invaders, and the trumpeters get picked off.' + +'There is the same chance for him as for the others,' said Anne. + +'Yes--yes--the same chance, such as it is. You have never liked John +since that affair of Matilda Johnson, have you?' + +'Why?' she quickly asked. + +'Well,' said Bob timidly, 'as it is a ticklish time for him, would it not +be worth while to make up any differences before the crash comes?' + +'I have nothing to make up,' said Anne, with some distress. She still +fully believed the trumpet-major to have smuggled away Miss Johnson +because of his own interest in that lady, which must have made his +professions to herself a mere pastime; but that very conduct had in it +the curious advantage to herself of setting Bob free. + +'Since John has been gone,' continued her companion, 'I have found out +more of his meaning, and of what he really had to do with that woman's +flight. Did you know that he had anything to do with it?' + +'Yes.' + +'That he got her to go away?' + +She looked at Bob with surprise. He was not exasperated with John, and +yet he knew so much as this. + +'Yes,' she said; 'what did it mean?' + +He did not explain to her then; but the possibility of John's death, +which had been newly brought home to him by the military events of the +day, determined him to get poor John's character cleared. Reproaching +himself for letting her remain so long with a mistaken idea of him, Bob +went to his father as soon as they got home, and begged him to get Mrs. +Loveday to tell Anne the true reason of John's objection to Miss Johnson +as a sister-in-law. + +'She thinks it is because they were old lovers new met, and that he wants +to marry her,' he exclaimed to his father in conclusion. + +'Then _that's_ the meaning of the split between Miss Nancy and Jack,' +said the miller. + +'What, were they any more than common friends?' asked Bob uneasily. + +'Not on her side, perhaps.' + +'Well, we must do it,' replied Bob, painfully conscious that common +justice to John might bring them into hazardous rivalry, yet determined +to be fair. 'Tell it all to Mrs. Loveday, and get her to tell Anne.' + + + + +XXIV. A LETTER, A VISITOR, AND A TIN BOX + + +The result of the explanation upon Anne was bitter self-reproach. She +was so sorry at having wronged the kindly soldier that next morning she +went by herself to the down, and stood exactly where his tent had covered +the sod on which he had lain so many nights, thinking what sadness he +must have suffered because of her at the time of packing up and going +away. After that she wiped from her eyes the tears of pity which had +come there, descended to the house, and wrote an impulsive letter to him, +in which occurred the following passages, indiscreet enough under the +circumstances:-- + + 'I find all justice, all rectitude, on your side, John; and all + impertinence, all inconsiderateness, on mine. I am so much convinced + of your honour in the whole transaction, that I shall for the future + mistrust myself in everything. And if it be possible, whenever I + differ from you on any point I shall take an hour's time for + consideration before I say that I differ. If I have lost your + friendship, I have only myself to thank for it; but I sincerely hope + that you can forgive.' + +After writing this she went to the garden, where Bob was shearing the +spring grass from the paths. 'What is John's direction?' she said, +holding the sealed letter in her hand. + +'Exonbury Barracks,' Bob faltered, his countenance sinking. + +She thanked him and went indoors. When he came in, later in the day, he +passed the door of her empty sitting-room and saw the letter on the +mantelpiece. He disliked the sight of it. Hearing voices in the other +room, he entered and found Anne and her mother there, talking to +Cripplestraw, who had just come in with a message from Squire Derriman, +requesting Miss Garland, as she valued the peace of mind of an old and +troubled man, to go at once and see him. + +'I cannot go,' she said, not liking the risk that such a visit involved. + +An hour later Cripplestraw shambled again into the passage, on the same +errand. + +'Maister's very poorly, and he hopes that you'll come, Mis'ess Anne. He +wants to see 'ee very particular about the French.' + +Anne would have gone in a moment, but for the fear that some one besides +the farmer might encounter her, and she answered as before. + +Another hour passed, and the wheels of a vehicle were heard. Cripplestraw +had come for the third time, with a horse and gig; he was dressed in his +best clothes, and brought with him on this occasion a basket containing +raisins, almonds, oranges, and sweet cakes. Offering them to her as a +gift from the old farmer, he repeated his request for her to accompany +him, the gig and best mare having been sent as an additional inducement. + +'I believe the old gentleman is in love with you, Anne,' said her mother. + +'Why couldn't he drive down himself to see me?' Anne inquired of +Cripplestraw. + +'He wants you at the house, please.' + +'Is Mr. Festus with him?' + +'No; he's away to Budmouth.' + +'I'll go,' said she. + +'And I may come and meet you?' said Bob. + +'There's my letter--what shall I do about that?' she said, instead of +answering him. 'Take my letter to the post-office, and you may come,' +she added. + +He said yes and went out, Cripplestraw retreating to the door till she +should be ready. + +'What letter is it?' said her mother. + +'Only one to John,' said Anne. 'I have asked him to forgive my +suspicions. I could do no less.' + +'Do you want to marry _him_?' asked Mrs. Loveday bluntly. + +'Mother!' + +'Well; he will take that letter as an encouragement. Can't you see that +he will, you foolish girl?' + +Anne did see instantly. 'Of course!' she said. 'Tell Robert that he +need not go.' + +She went to her room to secure the letter. It was gone from the +mantelpiece, and on inquiry it was found that the miller, seeing it +there, had sent David with it to Budmouth hours ago. Anne said nothing, +and set out for Oxwell Hall with Cripplestraw. + +'William,' said Mrs. Loveday to the miller when Anne was gone and Bob had +resumed his work in the garden, 'did you get that letter sent off on +purpose?' + +'Well, I did. I wanted to make sure of it. John likes her, and now +'twill be made up; and why shouldn't he marry her? I'll start him in +business, if so be she'll have him.' + +'But she is likely to marry Festus Derriman.' + +'I don't want her to marry anybody but John,' said the miller doggedly. + +'Not if she is in love with Bob, and has been for years, and he with +her?' asked his wife triumphantly. + +'In love with Bob, and he with her?' repeated Loveday. + +'Certainly,' said she, going off and leaving him to his reflections. + +When Anne reached the hall she found old Mr. Derriman in his customary +chair. His complexion was more ashen, but his movement in rising at her +entrance, putting a chair and shutting the door behind her, were much the +same as usual. + +'Thank God you've come, my dear girl,' he said earnestly. 'Ah, you don't +trip across to read to me now! Why did ye cost me so much to fetch you? +Fie! A horse and gig, and a man's time in going three times. And what I +sent ye cost a good deal in Budmouth market, now everything is so dear +there, and 'twould have cost more if I hadn't bought the raisins and +oranges some months ago, when they were cheaper. I tell you this because +we are old friends, and I have nobody else to tell my troubles to. But I +don't begrudge anything to ye since you've come.' + +'I am not much pleased to come, even now,' said she. 'What can make you +so seriously anxious to see me?' + +'Well, you be a good girl and true; and I've been thinking that of all +people of the next generation that I can trust, you are the best. 'Tis +my bonds and my title-deeds, such as they be, and the leases, you know, +and a few guineas in packets, and more than these, my will, that I have +to speak about. Now do ye come this way.' + +'O, such things as those!' she returned, with surprise. 'I don't +understand those things at all.' + +'There's nothing to understand. 'Tis just this. The French will be here +within two months; that's certain. I have it on the best authority, that +the army at Boulogne is ready, the boats equipped, the plans laid, and +the First Consul only waits for a tide. Heaven knows what will become o' +the men o' these parts! But most likely the women will he spared. Now +I'll show 'ee.' + +He led her across the hall to a stone staircase of semi-circular plan, +which conducted to the cellars. + +'Down here?' she said. + +'Yes; I must trouble ye to come down here. I have thought and thought +who is the woman that can best keep a secret for six months, and I say, +"Anne Garland." You won't be married before then?' + +'O no!' murmured the young woman. + +'I wouldn't expect ye to keep a close tongue after such a thing as that. +But it will not be necessary.' + +When they reached the bottom of the steps he struck a light from a tinder- +box, and unlocked the middle one of three doors which appeared in the +whitewashed wall opposite. The rays of the candle fell upon the vault +and sides of a long low cellar, littered with decayed woodwork from other +parts of the hall, among the rest stair-balusters, carved finials, +tracery panels, and wainscoting. But what most attracted her eye was a +small flagstone turned up in the middle of the floor, a heap of earth +beside it, and a measuring-tape. Derriman went to the corner of the +cellar, and pulled out a clamped box from under the straw. 'You be +rather heavy, my dear, eh?' he said, affectionately addressing the box as +he lifted it. 'But you are going to be put in a safe place, you know, or +that rascal will get hold of ye, and carry ye off and ruin me.' He then +with some difficulty lowered the box into the hole, raked in the earth +upon it, and lowered the flagstone, which he was a long time in fixing to +his satisfaction. Miss Garland, who was romantically interested, helped +him to brush away the fragments of loose earth; and when he had scattered +over the floor a little of the straw that lay about, they again ascended +to upper air. + +'Is this all, sir?' said Anne. + +'Just a moment longer, honey. Will you come into the great parlour?' + +She followed him thither. + +'If anything happens to me while the fighting is going on--it may be on +these very fields--you will know what to do,' he resumed. 'But first +please sit down again, there's a dear, whilst I write what's in my head. +See, there's the best paper, and a new quill that I've afforded myself +for't.' + +'What a strange business! I don't think I much like it, Mr. Derriman,' +she said, seating herself. + +He had by this time begun to write, and murmured as he wrote-- + +'"Twenty-three and a half from N.W. Sixteen and three-quarters from +N.E."--There, that's all. Now I seal it up and give it to you to keep +safe till I ask ye for it, or you hear of my being trampled down by the +enemy.' + +'What does it mean?' she asked, as she received the paper. + +'Clk! Ha! ha! Why, that's the distance of the box from the two corners +of the cellar. I measured it before you came. And, my honey, to make +all sure, if the French soldiery are after ye, tell your mother the +meaning on't, or any other friend, in case they should put ye to death, +and the secret be lost. But that I am sure I hope they won't do, though +your pretty face will be a sad bait to the soldiers. I often have wished +you was my daughter, honey; and yet in these times the less cares a man +has the better, so I am glad you bain't. Shall my man drive you home?' + +'No, no,' she said, much depressed by the words he had uttered. 'I can +find my way. You need not trouble to come down.' + +'Then take care of the paper. And if you outlive me, you'll find I have +not forgot you.' + + + + +XXV. FESTUS SHOWS HIS LOVE + + +Festus Derriman had remained in the Royal watering-place all that day, +his horse being sick at stables; but, wishing to coax or bully from his +uncle a remount for the coming summer, he set off on foot for Oxwell +early in the evening. When he drew near to the village, or rather to the +hall, which was a mile from the village, he overtook a slim, quick-eyed +woman, sauntering along at a leisurely pace. She was fashionably dressed +in a green spencer, with 'Mameluke' sleeves, and wore a velvet Spanish +hat and feather. + +'Good afternoon t'ye, ma'am,' said Festus, throwing a sword-and-pistol +air into his greeting. 'You are out for a walk?' + +'I _am_ out for a walk, captain,' said the lady, who had criticized him +from the crevice of her eye, without seeming to do much more than +continue her demure look forward, and gave the title as a sop to his +apparent character. + +'From the town?--I'd swear it, ma'am; 'pon my honour I would!' + +'Yes, I am from the town, sir,' said she. + +'Ah, you are a visitor! I know every one of the regular inhabitants; we +soldiers are in and out there continually. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry +Cavalry, you know. The fact is, the watering-place is under our charge; +the folks will be quite dependent upon us for their deliverance in the +coming struggle. We hold our lives in our hands, and theirs, I may say, +in our pockets. What made you come here, ma'am, at such a critical +time?' + +'I don't see that it is such a critical time?' + +'But it is, though; and so you'd say if you was as much mixed up with the +military affairs of the nation as some of us.' + +The lady smiled. 'The King is coming this year, anyhow,' said she. + +'Never!' said Festus firmly. 'Ah, you are one of the attendants at court +perhaps, come on ahead to get the King's chambers ready, in case Boney +should not land?' + +'No,' she said; 'I am connected with the theatre, though not just at the +present moment. I have been out of luck for the last year or two; but I +have fetched up again. I join the company when they arrive for the +season.' + +Festus surveyed her with interest. 'Faith! and is it so? Well, ma'am, +what part do you play?' + +'I am mostly the leading lady--the heroine,' she said, drawing herself up +with dignity. + +'I'll come and have a look at ye if all's well, and the landing is put +off--hang me if I don't!--Hullo, hullo, what do I see?' + +His eyes were stretched towards a distant field, which Anne Garland was +at that moment hastily crossing, on her way from the hall to Overcombe. + +'I must be off. Good-day to ye, dear creature!' he exclaimed, hurrying +forward. + +The lady said, 'O, you droll monster!' as she smiled and watched him +stride ahead. + +Festus bounded on over the hedge, across the intervening patch of green, +and into the field which Anne was still crossing. In a moment or two she +looked back, and seeing the well-known Herculean figure of the yeoman +behind her felt rather alarmed, though she determined to show no +difference in her outward carriage. But to maintain her natural gait was +beyond her powers. She spasmodically quickened her pace; fruitlessly, +however, for he gained upon her, and when within a few strides of her +exclaimed, 'Well, my darling!' Anne started off at a run. + +Festus was already out of breath, and soon found that he was not likely +to overtake her. On she went, without turning her head, till an unusual +noise behind compelled her to look round. His face was in the act of +falling back; he swerved on one side, and dropped like a log upon a +convenient hedgerow-bank which bordered the path. There he lay quite +still. + +Anne was somewhat alarmed; and after standing at gaze for two or three +minutes, drew nearer to him, a step and a half at a time, wondering and +doubting, as a meek ewe draws near to some strolling vagabond who flings +himself on the grass near the flock. + +'He is in a swoon!' she murmured. + +Her heart beat quickly, and she looked around. Nobody was in sight; she +advanced a step nearer still and observed him again. Apparently his face +was turning to a livid hue, and his breathing had become obstructed. + +''Tis not a swoon; 'tis apoplexy!' she said, in deep distress. 'I ought +to untie his neck.' But she was afraid to do this, and only drew a +little closer still. + +Miss Garland was now within three feet of him, whereupon the senseless +man, who could hold his breath no longer, sprang to his feet and darted +at her, saying, 'Ha! ha! a scheme for a kiss!' + +She felt his arm slipping round her neck; but, twirling about with +amazing dexterity, she wriggled from his embrace and ran away along the +field. The force with which she had extricated herself was sufficient to +throw Festus upon the grass, and by the time that he got upon his legs +again she was many yards off. Uttering a word which was not exactly a +blessing, he immediately gave chase; and thus they ran till Anne entered +a meadow divided down the middle by a brook about six feet wide. A +narrow plank was thrown loosely across at the point where the path +traversed this stream, and when Anne reached it she at once scampered +over. At the other side she turned her head to gather the probabilities +of the situation, which were that Festus Derriman would overtake her even +now. By a sudden forethought she stooped, seized the end of the plank, +and endeavoured to drag it away from the opposite bank. But the weight +was too great for her to do more than slightly move it, and with a +desperate sigh she ran on again, having lost many valuable seconds. + +But her attempt, though ineffectual in dragging it down, had been enough +to unsettle the little bridge; and when Derriman reached the middle, +which he did half a minute later, the plank turned over on its edge, +tilting him bodily into the river. The water was not remarkably deep, +but as the yeoman fell flat on his stomach he was completely immersed; +and it was some time before he could drag himself out. When he arose, +dripping on the bank, and looked around, Anne had vanished from the mead. +Then Festus's eyes glowed like carbuncles, and he gave voice to fearful +imprecations, shaking his fist in the soft summer air towards Anne, in a +way that was terrible for any maiden to behold. Wading back through the +stream, he walked along its bank with a heavy tread, the water running +from his coat-tails, wrists, and the tips of his ears, in silvery +dribbles, that sparkled pleasantly in the sun. Thus he hastened away, +and went round by a by-path to the hall. + +Meanwhile the author of his troubles was rapidly drawing nearer to the +mill, and soon, to her inexpressible delight, she saw Bob coming to meet +her. She had heard the flounce, and, feeling more secure from her +pursuer, had dropped her pace to a quick walk. No sooner did she reach +Bob than, overcome by the excitement of the moment, she flung herself +into his arms. Bob instantly enclosed her in an embrace so very thorough +that there was no possible danger of her falling, whatever degree of +exhaustion might have given rise to her somewhat unexpected action; and +in this attitude they silently remained, till it was borne in upon Anne +that the present was the first time in her life that she had ever been in +such a position. Her face then burnt like a sunset, and she did not know +how to look up at him. Feeling at length quite safe, she suddenly +resolved not to give way to her first impulse to tell him the whole of +what had happened, lest there should be a dreadful quarrel and fight +between Bob and the yeoman, and great difficulties caused in the Loveday +family on her account, the miller having important wheat transactions +with the Derrimans. + +'You seem frightened, dearest Anne,' said Bob tenderly. + +'Yes,' she replied. 'I saw a man I did not like the look of, and he was +inclined to follow me. But, worse than that, I am troubled about the +French. O Bob! I am afraid you will be killed, and my mother, and John, +and your father, and all of us hunted down!' + +'Now I have told you, dear little heart, that it cannot be. We shall +drive 'em into the sea after a battle or two, even if they land, which I +don't believe they will. We've got ninety sail of the line, and though +it is rather unfortunate that we should have declared war against Spain +at this ticklish time, there's enough for all.' And Bob went into +elaborate statistics of the navy, army, militia, and volunteers, to +prolong the time of holding her. When he had done speaking he drew +rather a heavy sigh. + +'What's the matter, Bob?' + +'I haven't been yet to offer myself as a sea-fencible, and I ought to +have done it long ago.' + +'You are only one. Surely they can do without you?' + +Bob shook his head. She arose from her restful position, her eye +catching his with a shamefaced expression of having given way at last. +Loveday drew from his pocket a paper, and said, as they slowly walked on, +'Here's something to make us brave and patriotic. I bought it in +Budmouth. Isn't it a stirring picture?' + +It was a hieroglyphic profile of Napoleon. The hat represented a maimed +French eagle; the face was ingeniously made up of human carcases, knotted +and writhing together in such directions as to form a physiognomy; a +band, or stock, shaped to resemble the English Channel, encircled his +throat, and seemed to choke him; his epaulette was a hand tearing a +cobweb that represented the treaty of peace with England; and his ear was +a woman crouching over a dying child. {225} + +'It is dreadful!' said Anne. 'I don't like to see it.' + +She had recovered from her emotion, and walked along beside him with a +grave, subdued face. Bob did not like to assume the privileges of an +accepted lover and draw her hand through his arm; for, conscious that she +naturally belonged to a politer grade than his own, he feared lest her +exhibition of tenderness were an impulse which cooler moments might +regret. A perfect Paul-and-Virginia life had not absolutely set in for +him as yet, and it was not to be hastened by force. When they had passed +over the bridge into the mill-front they saw the miller standing at the +door with a face of concern. + +'Since you have been gone,' he said, 'a Government man has been here, and +to all the houses, taking down the numbers of the women and children, and +their ages and the number of horses and waggons that can be mustered, in +case they have to retreat inland, out of the way of the invading army.' + +The little family gathered themselves together, all feeling the crisis +more seriously than they liked to express. Mrs. Loveday thought how +ridiculous a thing social ambition was in such a conjuncture as this, and +vowed that she would leave Anne to love where she would. Anne, too, +forgot the little peculiarities of speech and manner in Bob and his +father, which sometimes jarred for a moment upon her more refined sense, +and was thankful for their love and protection in this looming trouble. + +On going upstairs she remembered the paper which Farmer Derriman had +given her, and searched in her bosom for it. She could not find it +there. 'I must have left it on the table,' she said to herself. It did +not matter; she remembered every word. She took a pen and wrote a +duplicate, which she put safely away. + +But Anne was wrong. She had, after all, placed the paper where she +supposed, and there it ought to have been. But in escaping from Festus, +when he feigned apoplexy, it had fallen out upon the grass. Five minutes +after that event, when pursuer and pursued were two or three fields +ahead, the gaily-dressed woman whom the yeoman had overtaken, peeped +cautiously through the stile into the corner of the field which had been +the scene of the scramble; and seeing the paper she climbed over, secured +it, loosened the wafer without tearing the sheet, and read the memorandum +within. Unable to make anything of its meaning, the saunterer put it in +her pocket, and, dismissing the matter from her mind, went on by the by- +path which led to the back of the mill. Here, behind the hedge, she +stood and surveyed the old building for some time, after which she +meditatively turned, and retraced her steps towards the Royal watering- +place. + + + + +XXVI. THE ALARM + + +The night which followed was historic and memorable. Mrs. Loveday was +awakened by the boom of a distant gun: she told the miller, and they +listened awhile. The sound was not repeated, but such was the state of +their feelings that Mr. Loveday went to Bob's room and asked if he had +heard it. Bob was wide awake, looking out of the window; he had heard +the ominous sound, and was inclined to investigate the matter. While the +father and son were dressing they fancied that a glare seemed to be +rising in the sky in the direction of the beacon hill. Not wishing to +alarm Anne and her mother, the miller assured them that Bob and himself +were merely going out of doors to inquire into the cause of the report, +after which they plunged into the gloom together. A few steps' progress +opened up more of the sky, which, as they had thought, was indeed +irradiated by a lurid light; but whether it came from the beacon or from +a more distant point they were unable to clearly tell. They pushed on +rapidly towards higher ground. + +Their excitement was merely of a piece with that of all men at this +critical juncture. Everywhere expectation was at fever heat. For the +last year or two only five-and-twenty miles of shallow water had divided +quiet English homesteads from an enemy's army of a hundred and fifty +thousand men. We had taken the matter lightly enough, eating and +drinking as in the days of Noe, and singing satires without end. We +punned on Buonaparte and his gunboats, chalked his effigy on +stage-coaches, and published the same in prints. Still, between these +bursts of hilarity, it was sometimes recollected that England was the +only European country which had not succumbed to the mighty little man +who was less than human in feeling, and more than human in will; that our +spirit for resistance was greater than our strength; and that the Channel +was often calm. Boats built of wood which was greenly growing in its +native forest three days before it was bent as wales to their sides, were +ridiculous enough; but they might be, after all, sufficient for a single +trip between two visible shores. + +The English watched Buonaparte in these preparations, and Buonaparte +watched the English. At the distance of Boulogne details were lost, but +we were impressed on fine days by the novel sight of a huge army moving +and twinkling like a school of mackerel under the rays of the sun. The +regular way of passing an afternoon in the coast towns was to stroll up +to the signal posts and chat with the lieutenant on duty there about the +latest inimical object seen at sea. About once a week there appeared in +the newspapers either a paragraph concerning some adventurous English +gentleman who had sailed out in a pleasure-boat till he lay near enough +to Boulogne to see Buonaparte standing on the heights among his marshals; +or else some lines about a mysterious stranger with a foreign accent, +who, after collecting a vast deal of information on our resources, had +hired a boat at a southern port, and vanished with it towards France +before his intention could be divined. + +In forecasting his grand venture, Buonaparte postulated the help of +Providence to a remarkable degree. Just at the hour when his troops were +on board the flat-bottomed boats and ready to sail, there was to be a +great fog, that should spread a vast obscurity over the length and +breadth of the Channel, and keep the English blind to events on the other +side. The fog was to last twenty-four hours, after which it might clear +away. A dead calm was to prevail simultaneously with the fog, with the +twofold object of affording the boats easy transit and dooming our ships +to lie motionless. Thirdly, there was to be a spring tide, which should +combine its manoeuvres with those of the fog and calm. + +Among the many thousands of minor Englishmen whose lives were affected by +these tremendous designs may be numbered our old acquaintance Corporal +Tullidge, who sported the crushed arm, and poor old Simon Burden, the +dazed veteran who had fought at Minden. Instead of sitting snugly in the +settle of the Old Ship, in the village adjoining Overcombe, they were +obliged to keep watch on the hill. They made themselves as comfortable +as was possible in the circumstances, dwelling in a hut of clods and +turf, with a brick chimney for cooking. Here they observed the nightly +progress of the moon and stars, grew familiar with the heaving of moles, +the dancing of rabbits on the hillocks, the distant hoot of owls, the +bark of foxes from woods further inland; but saw not a sign of the enemy. +As, night after night, they walked round the two ricks which it was their +duty to fire at a signal--one being of furze for a quick flame, the other +of turf, for a long, slow radiance--they thought and talked of old times, +and drank patriotically from a large wood flagon that was filled every +day. + +Bob and his father soon became aware that the light was from the beacon. +By the time that they reached the top it was one mass of towering flame, +from which the sparks fell on the green herbage like a fiery dew; the +forms of the two old men being seen passing and repassing in the midst of +it. The Lovedays, who came up on the smoky side, regarded the scene for +a moment, and then emerged into the light. + +'Who goes there?' said Corporal Tullidge, shouldering a pike with his +sound arm. 'O, 'tis neighbour Loveday!' + +'Did you get your signal to fire it from the east?' said the miller +hastily. + +'No; from Abbotsea Beach.' + +'But you are not to go by a coast signal!' + +'Chok' it all, wasn't the Lord-Lieutenant's direction, whenever you see +Rainbarrow's Beacon burn to the nor'east'ard, or Haggardon to the +nor'west'ard, or the actual presence of the enemy on the shore?' + +'But is he here?' + +'No doubt o't! The beach light is only just gone down, and Simon heard +the guns even better than I.' + +'Hark, hark! I hear 'em!' said Bob. + +They listened with parted lips, the night wind blowing through Simon +Burden's few teeth as through the ruins of Stonehenge. From far down on +the lower levels came the noise of wheels and the tramp of horses upon +the turnpike road. + +'Well, there must be something in it,' said Miller Loveday gravely. 'Bob, +we'll go home and make the women-folk safe, and then I'll don my +soldier's clothes and be off. God knows where our company will +assemble!' + +They hastened down the hill, and on getting into the road waited and +listened again. Travellers began to come up and pass them in vehicles of +all descriptions. It was difficult to attract their attention in the dim +light, but by standing on the top of a wall which fenced the road Bob was +at last seen. + +'What's the matter?' he cried to a butcher who was flying past in his +cart, his wife sitting behind him without a bonnet. + +'The French have landed!' said the man, without drawing rein. + +'Where?' shouted Bob. + +'In West Bay; and all Budmouth is in uproar!' replied the voice, now +faint in the distance. + +Bob and his father hastened on till they reached their own house. As +they had expected, Anne and her mother, in common with most of the +people, were both dressed, and stood at the door bonneted and shawled, +listening to the traffic on the neighbouring highway, Mrs. Loveday having +secured what money and small valuables they possessed in a huge pocket +which extended all round her waist, and added considerably to her weight +and diameter. + +''Tis true enough,' said the miller: 'he's come! You and Anne and the +maid must be off to Cousin Jim's at King's-Bere, and when you get there +you must do as they do. I must assemble with the company.' + +'And I?' said Bob. + +'Thou'st better run to the church, and take a pike before they be all +gone.' + +The horse was put into the gig, and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and the servant- +maid were hastily packed into the vehicle, the latter taking the reins; +David's duties as a fighting-man forbidding all thought of his domestic +offices now. Then the silver tankard, teapot, pair of candlesticks like +Ionic columns, and other articles too large to be pocketed were thrown +into a basket and put up behind. Then came the leave-taking, which was +as sad as it was hurried. Bob kissed Anne, and there was no affectation +in her receiving that mark of affection as she said through her tears, +'God bless you!' At last they moved off in the dim light of dawn, +neither of the three women knowing which road they were to take, but +trusting to chance to find it. + +As soon as they were out of sight Bob went off for a pike, and his +father, first new-flinting his firelock, proceeded to don his uniform, +pipe-claying his breeches with such cursory haste as to bespatter his +black gaiters with the same ornamental compound. Finding when he was +ready that no bugle had as yet sounded, he went with David to the cart- +house, dragged out the waggon, and put therein some of the most useful +and easily-handled goods, in case there might be an opportunity for +conveying them away. By the time this was done and the waggon pushed +back and locked in, Bob had returned with his weapon, somewhat mortified +at being doomed to this low form of defence. The miller gave his son a +parting grasp of the hand, and arranged to meet him at King's-Bere at the +first opportunity if the news were true; if happily false, here at their +own house. + +'Bother it all!' he exclaimed, looking at his stock of flints. + +'What?' said Bob. + +'I've got no ammunition: not a blessed round!' + +'Then what's the use of going?' asked his son. + +The miller paused. 'O, I'll go,' he said. 'Perhaps somebody will lend +me a little if I get into a hot corner?' + +'Lend ye a little! Father, you was always so simple!' said Bob +reproachfully. + +'Well--I can bagnet a few, anyhow,' said the miller. + +The bugle had been blown ere this, and Loveday the father disappeared +towards the place of assembly, his empty cartridge-box behind him. Bob +seized a brace of loaded pistols which he had brought home from the ship, +and, armed with these and a pike, he locked the door and sallied out +again towards the turnpike road. + +By this time the yeomanry of the district were also on the move, and +among them Festus Derriman, who was sleeping at his uncle's, and had been +awakened by Cripplestraw. About the time when Bob and his father were +descending from the beacon the stalwart yeoman was standing in the stable- +yard adjusting his straps, while Cripplestraw saddled the horse. Festus +clanked up and down, looked gloomily at the beacon, heard the retreating +carts and carriages, and called Cripplestraw to him, who came from the +stable leading the horse at the same moment that Uncle Benjy peeped +unobserved from a mullioned window above their heads, the distant light +of the beacon fire touching up his features to the complexion of an old +brass clock-face. + +'I think that before I start, Cripplestraw,' said Festus, whose lurid +visage was undergoing a bleaching process curious to look upon, 'you +shall go on to Budmouth, and make a bold inquiry whether the cowardly +enemy is on shore as yet, or only looming in the bay.' + +'I'd go in a moment, sir,' said the other, 'if I hadn't my bad leg again. +I should have joined my company afore this; but they said at last drill +that I was too old. So I shall wait up in the hay-loft for tidings as +soon as I have packed you off, poor gentleman!' + +'Do such alarms as these, Cripplestraw, ever happen without foundation? +Buonaparte is a wretch, a miserable wretch, and this may be only a false +alarm to disappoint such as me?' + +'O no, sir; O no!' + +'But sometimes there are false alarms?' + +'Well, sir, yes. There was a pretended sally o' gunboats last year.' + +'And was there nothing else pretended--something more like this, for +instance?' + +Cripplestraw shook his head. 'I notice yer modesty, Mr. Festus, in +making light of things. But there never was, sir. You may depend upon +it he's come. Thank God, my duty as a Local don't require me to go to +the front, but only the valiant men like my master. Ah, if Boney could +only see 'ee now, sir, he'd know too well there is nothing to be got from +such a determined skilful officer but blows and musket-balls!' + +'Yes, yes. Cripplestraw, if I ride off to Budmouth and meet 'em, all my +training will be lost. No skill is required as a forlorn hope.' + +'True; that's a point, sir. You would outshine 'em all, and be picked +off at the very beginning as a too-dangerous brave man.' + +'But if I stay here and urge on the faint-hearted ones, or get up into +the turret-stair by that gateway, and pop at the invaders through the +loophole, I shouldn't be so completely wasted, should I?' + +'You would not, Mr. Derriman. But, as you was going to say next, the +fire in yer veins won't let ye do that. You are valiant; very good: you +don't want to husband yer valiance at home. The arg'ment is plain.' + +'If my birth had been more obscure,' murmured the yeoman, 'and I had only +been in the militia, for instance, or among the humble pikemen, so much +wouldn't have been expected of me--of my fiery nature. Cripplestraw, is +there a drop of brandy to be got at in the house? I don't feel very +well.' + +'Dear nephew,' said the old gentleman from above, whom neither of the +others had as yet noticed, 'I haven't any spirits opened--so unfortunate! +But there's a beautiful barrel of crab-apple cider in draught; and +there's some cold tea from last night.' + +'What, is he listening?' said Festus, staring up. 'Now I warrant how +glad he is to see me forced to go--called out of bed without breakfast, +and he quite safe, and sure to escape because he's an old +man!--Cripplestraw, I like being in the yeomanry cavalry; but I wish I +hadn't been in the ranks; I wish I had been only the surgeon, to stay in +the rear while the bodies are brought back to him--I mean, I should have +thrown my heart at such a time as this more into the labour of restoring +wounded men and joining their shattered limbs together--u-u-ugh!--more +than I can into causing the wounds--I am too humane, Cripplestraw, for +the ranks!' + +'Yes, yes,' said his companion, depressing his spirits to a kindred +level. 'And yet, such is fate, that, instead of joining men's limbs +together, you'll have to get your own joined--poor young sojer!--all +through having such a warlike soul.' + +'Yes,' murmured Festus, and paused. 'You can't think how strange I feel +here, Cripplestraw,' he continued, laying his hand upon the centre +buttons of his waistcoat. 'How I do wish I was only the surgeon!' + +He slowly mounted, and Uncle Benjy, in the meantime, sang to himself as +he looked on, '_Twen-ty-three and half from N.W._ _Six-teen and three- +quar-ters from N.E._' + +'What's that old mummy singing?' said Festus savagely. + +'Only a hymn for preservation from our enemies, dear nephew,' meekly +replied the farmer, who had heard the remark. '_Twen-ty-three and half +from N.W_.' + +Festus allowed his horse to move on a few paces, and then turned again, +as if struck by a happy invention. 'Cripplestraw,' he began, with an +artificial laugh, 'I am obliged to confess, after all--I must see her! +'Tisn't nature that makes me draw back--'tis love. I must go and look +for her.' + +'A woman, sir?' + +'I didn't want to confess it; but 'tis a woman. Strange that I should be +drawn so entirely against my natural wish to rush at 'em!' + +Cripplestraw, seeing which way the wind blew, found it advisable to blow +in harmony. 'Ah, now at last I see, sir! Spite that few men live that +be worthy to command ye; spite that you could rush on, marshal the troops +to victory, as I may say; but then--what of it? there's the unhappy fate +of being smit with the eyes of a woman, and you are unmanned! Maister +Derriman, who is himself, when he's got a woman round his neck like a +millstone?' + +'It is something like that.' + +'I feel the case. Be you valiant?--I know, of course, the words being a +matter of form--be you valiant, I ask? Yes, of course. Then don't you +waste it in the open field. Hoard it up, I say, sir, for a higher class +of war--the defence of yer adorable lady. Think what you owe her at this +terrible time! Now, Maister Derriman, once more I ask ye to cast off +that first haughty wish to rush to Budmouth, and to go where your mis'ess +is defenceless and alone.' + +'I will, Cripplestraw, now you put it like that!' + +'Thank ye, thank ye heartily, Maister Derriman. Go now and hide with +her.' + +'But can I? Now, hang flattery!--can a man hide without a stain? Of +course I would not hide in any mean sense; no, not I!' + +'If you be in love, 'tis plain you may, since it is not your own life, +but another's, that you are concerned for, and you only save your own +because it can't be helped.' + +''Tis true, Cripplestraw, in a sense. But will it be understood that +way? Will they see it as a brave hiding?' + +'Now, sir, if you had not been in love I own to ye that hiding would look +queer, but being to save the tears, groans, fits, swowndings, and perhaps +death of a comely young woman, yer principle is good; you honourably +retreat because you be too gallant to advance. This sounds strange, ye +may say, sir; but it is plain enough to less fiery minds.' + +Festus did for a moment try to uncover his teeth in a natural smile, but +it died away. 'Cripplestraw, you flatter me; or do you mean it? Well, +there's truth in it. I am more gallant in going to her than in marching +to the shore. But we cannot be too careful about our good names, we +soldiers. I must not be seen. I'm off.' + +Cripplestraw opened the hurdle which closed the arch under the portico +gateway, and Festus passed under, Uncle Benjamin singing, _Twen-ty-three +and a half from N.W._ with a sort of sublime ecstasy, feeling, as Festus +had observed, that his money was safe, and that the French would not +personally molest an old man in such a ragged, mildewed coat as that he +wore, which he had taken the precaution to borrow from a scarecrow in one +of his fields for the purpose. + +Festus rode on full of his intention to seek out Anne, and under cover of +protecting her retreat accompany her to King's-Bere, where he knew the +Lovedays had relatives. In the lane he met Granny Seamore, who, having +packed up all her possessions in a small basket, was placidly retreating +to the mountains till all should be over. + +'Well, granny, have ye seen the French?' asked Festus. + +'No,' she said, looking up at him through her brazen spectacles. 'If I +had I shouldn't ha' seed thee!' + +'Faugh!' replied the yeoman, and rode on. Just as he reached the old +road, which he had intended merely to cross and avoid, his countenance +fell. Some troops of regulars, who appeared to be dragoons, were +rattling along the road. Festus hastened towards an opposite gate, so as +to get within the field before they should see him; but, as ill-luck +would have it, as soon as he got inside, a party of six or seven of his +own yeomanry troop were straggling across the same field and making for +the spot where he was. The dragoons passed without seeing him; but when +he turned out into the road again it was impossible to retreat towards +Overcombe village because of the yeomen. So he rode straight on, and +heard them coming at his heels. There was no other gate, and the highway +soon became as straight as a bowstring. Unable thus to turn without +meeting them, and caught like an eel in a water-pipe, Festus drew nearer +and nearer to the fateful shore. But he did not relinquish hope. Just +ahead there were cross-roads, and he might have a chance of slipping down +one of them without being seen. On reaching the spot he found that he +was not alone. A horseman had come up the right-hand lane and drawn +rein. It was an officer of the German legion, and seeing Festus he held +up his hand. Festus rode up to him and saluted. + +'It ist false report!' said the officer. + +Festus was a man again. He felt that nothing was too much for him. The +officer, after some explanation of the cause of alarm, said that he was +going across to the road which led by the moor, to stop the troops and +volunteers converging from that direction, upon which Festus offered to +give information along the Casterbridge road. The German crossed over, +and was soon out of sight in the lane, while Festus turned back upon the +way by which he had come. The party of yeomanry cavalry was rapidly +drawing near, and he soon recognized among them the excited voices of +Stubb of Duddle Hole, Noakes of Muckleford, and other comrades of his +orgies at the hall. It was a magnificent opportunity, and Festus drew +his sword. When they were within speaking distance he reined round his +charger's head to Budmouth and shouted, 'On, comrades, on! I am waiting +for you. You have been a long time getting up with me, seeing the +glorious nature of our deeds to-day!' + +'Well said, Derriman, well said!' replied the foremost of the riders. +'Have you heard anything new?' + +'Only that he's here with his tens of thousands, and that we are to ride +to meet him sword in hand as soon as we have assembled in the town ahead +here.' + +'O Lord!' said Noakes, with a slight falling of the lower jaw. + +'The man who quails now is unworthy of the name of yeoman,' said Festus, +still keeping ahead of the other troopers and holding up his sword to the +sun. 'O Noakes, fie, fie! You begin to look pale, man.' + +'Faith, perhaps you'd look pale,' said Noakes, with an envious glance +upon Festus's daring manner, 'if you had a wife and family depending upon +ye!' + +'I'll take three frog-eating Frenchmen single-handed!' rejoined Derriman, +still flourishing his sword. + +'They have as good swords as you; as you will soon find,' said another of +the yeomen. + +'If they were three times armed,' said Festus--'ay, thrice three times--I +would attempt 'em three to one. How do you feel now, my old friend +Stubb?' (turning to another of the warriors.) 'O, friend Stubb! no +bouncing health to our lady-loves in Oxwell Hall this summer as last. Eh, +Brownjohn?' + +'I am afraid not,' said Brownjohn gloomily. + +'No rattling dinners at Stacie's Hotel, and the King below with his +staff. No wrenching off door-knockers and sending 'em to the bakehouse +in a pie that nobody calls for. Weeks of cut-and-thrust work rather!' + +'I suppose so.' + +'Fight how we may we shan't get rid of the cursed tyrant before autumn, +and many thousand brave men will lie low before it's done,' remarked a +young yeoman with a calm face, who meant to do his duty without much +talking. + +'No grinning matches at Mai-dun Castle this summer,' Festus resumed; 'no +thread-the-needle at Greenhill Fair, and going into shows and driving the +showman crazy with cock-a-doodle-doo!' + +'I suppose not.' + +'Does it make you seem just a trifle uncomfortable, Noakes? Keep up your +spirits, old comrade. Come, forward! we are only ambling on like so many +donkey-women. We have to get into Budmouth, join the rest of the troop, +and then march along the coast west'ard, as I imagine. At this rate we +shan't be well into the thick of battle before twelve o'clock. Spur on, +comrades. No dancing on the green, Lockham, this year in the moonlight! +You was tender upon that girl; gad, what will become o' her in the +struggle?' + +'Come, come, Derriman,' expostulated Lockham--'this is all very well, but +I don't care for 't. I am as ready to fight as any man, but--' + +'Perhaps when you get into battle, Derriman, and see what it's like, your +courage will cool down a little,' added Noakes on the same side, but with +secret admiration of Festus's reckless bravery. + +'I shall be bayoneted first,' said Festus. 'Now let's rally, and on!' + +Since Festus was determined to spur on wildly, the rest of the yeomen did +not like to seem behindhand, and they rapidly approached the town. Had +they been calm enough to reflect, they might have observed that for the +last half-hour no carts or carriages had met them on the way, as they had +done further back. It was not till the troopers reached the turnpike +that they learnt what Festus had known a quarter of an hour before. At +the intelligence Derriman sheathed his sword with a sigh; and the party +soon fell in with comrades who had arrived there before them, whereupon +the source and details of the alarm were boisterously discussed. + +'What, didn't you know of the mistake till now?' asked one of these of +the new-comers. 'Why, when I was dropping over the hill by the cross- +roads I looked back and saw that man talking to the messenger, and he +must have told him the truth.' The speaker pointed to Festus. They +turned their indignant eyes full upon him. That he had sported with +their deepest feelings, while knowing the rumour to be baseless, was soon +apparent to all. + +'Beat him black and blue with the flat of our blades!' shouted two or +three, turning their horses' heads to drop back upon Derriman, in which +move they were followed by most of the party. + +But Festus, foreseeing danger from the unexpected revelation, had already +judiciously placed a few intervening yards between himself and his fellow- +yeomen, and now, clapping spurs to his horse, rattled like thunder and +lightning up the road homeward. His ready flight added hotness to their +pursuit, and as he rode and looked fearfully over his shoulder he could +see them following with enraged faces and drawn swords, a position which +they kept up for a distance of more than a mile. Then he had the +satisfaction of seeing them drop off one by one, and soon he and his +panting charger remained alone on the highway. + + + + +XXVII. DANGER TO ANNE + + +He stopped and reflected how to turn this rebuff to advantage. Baulked +in his project of entering the watering-place and enjoying +congratulations upon his patriotic bearing during the advance, he sulkily +considered that he might be able to make some use of his enforced +retirement by riding to Overcombe and glorifying himself in the eyes of +Miss Garland before the truth should have reached that hamlet. Having +thus decided he spurred on in a better mood. + +By this time the volunteers were on the march, and as Derriman ascended +the road he met the Overcombe company, in which trudged Miller Loveday +shoulder to shoulder with the other substantial householders of the place +and its neighbourhood, duly equipped with pouches, cross-belts, +firelocks, flint-boxes, pickers, worms, magazines, priming-horns, heel- +ball, and pomatum. There was nothing to be gained by further suppression +of the truth, and briefly informing them that the danger was not so +immediate as had been supposed, Festus galloped on. At the end of +another mile he met a large number of pikemen, including Bob Loveday, +whom the yeoman resolved to sound upon the whereabouts of Anne. The +circumstances were such as to lead Bob to speak more frankly than he +might have done on reflection, and he told Festus the direction in which +the women had been sent. Then Festus informed the group that the report +of invasion was false, upon which they all turned to go homeward with +greatly relieved spirits. + +Bob walked beside Derriman's horse for some distance. Loveday had +instantly made up his mind to go and look for the women, and ease their +anxiety by letting them know the good news as soon as possible. But he +said nothing of this to Festus during their return together; nor did +Festus tell Bob that he also had resolved to seek them out, and by +anticipating every one else in that enterprise, make of it a glorious +opportunity for bringing Miss Garland to her senses about him. He still +resented the ducking that he had received at her hands, and was not +disposed to let that insult pass without obtaining some sort of sweet +revenge. + +As soon as they had parted Festus cantered on over the hill, meeting on +his way the Longpuddle volunteers, sixty rank and file, under Captain +Cunningham; the Casterbridge company, ninety strong (known as the +'Consideration Company' in those days), under Captain Strickland; and +others--all with anxious faces and covered with dust. Just passing the +word to them and leaving them at halt, he proceeded rapidly onward in the +direction of King's-Bere. Nobody appeared on the road for some time, +till after a ride of several miles he met a stray corporal of volunteers, +who told Festus in answer to his inquiry that he had certainly passed no +gig full of women of the kind described. Believing that he had missed +them by following the highway, Derriman turned back into a lane along +which they might have chosen to journey for privacy's sake, +notwithstanding the badness and uncertainty of its track. Arriving again +within five miles of Overcombe, he at length heard tidings of the +wandering vehicle and its precious burden, which, like the Ark when sent +away from the country of the Philistines, had apparently been left to the +instincts of the beast that drew it. A labouring man, just at daybreak, +had seen the helpless party going slowly up a distant drive, which he +pointed out. + +No sooner had Festus parted from this informant than he beheld Bob +approaching, mounted on the miller's second and heavier horse. Bob +looked rather surprised, and Festus felt his coming glory in danger. + +'They went down that lane,' he said, signifying precisely the opposite +direction to the true one. 'I, too, have been on the look-out for +missing friends.' + +As Festus was riding back there was no reason to doubt his information, +and Loveday rode on as misdirected. Immediately that he was out of sight +Festus reversed his course, and followed the track which Anne and her +companions were last seen to pursue. + +This road had been ascended by the gig in question nearly two hours +before the present moment. Molly, the servant, held the reins, Mrs. +Loveday sat beside her, and Anne behind. Their progress was but slow, +owing partly to Molly's want of skill, and partly to the steepness of the +road, which here passed over downs of some extent, and was rarely or +never mended. It was an anxious morning for them all, and the beauties +of the early summer day fell upon unheeding eyes. They were too anxious +even for conjecture, and each sat thinking her own thoughts, occasionally +glancing westward, or stopping the horse to listen to sounds from more +frequented roads along which other parties were retreating. Once, while +they listened and gazed thus, they saw a glittering in the distance, and +heard the tramp of many horses. It was a large body of cavalry going in +the direction of the King's watering-place, the same regiment of +dragoons, in fact, which Festus had seen further on in its course. The +women in the gig had no doubt that these men were marching at once to +engage the enemy. By way of varying the monotony of the journey Molly +occasionally burst into tears of horror, believing Buonaparte to be in +countenance and habits precisely what the caricatures represented him. +Mrs. Loveday endeavoured to establish cheerfulness by assuring her +companions of the natural civility of the French nation, with whom +unprotected women were safe from injury, unless through the casual +excesses of soldiery beyond control. This was poor consolation to Anne, +whose mind was more occupied with Bob than with herself, and a miserable +fear that she would never again see him alive so paled her face and +saddened her gaze forward, that at last her mother said, 'Who was you +thinking of, my dear?' Anne's only reply was a look at her mother, with +which a tear mingled. + +Molly whipped the horse, by which she quickened his pace for five yards, +when he again fell into the perverse slowness that showed how fully +conscious he was of being the master-mind and chief personage of the +four. Whenever there was a pool of water by the road he turned aside to +drink a mouthful, and remained there his own time in spite of Molly's tug +at the reins and futile fly-flapping on his rump. They were now in the +chalk district, where there were no hedges, and a rough attempt at +mending the way had been made by throwing down huge lumps of that glaring +material in heaps, without troubling to spread it or break them abroad. +The jolting here was most distressing, and seemed about to snap the +springs. + +'How that wheel do wamble,' said Molly at last. She had scarcely spoken +when the wheel came off, and all three were precipitated over it into the +road. + +Fortunately the horse stood still, and they began to gather themselves +up. The only one of the three who had suffered in the least from the +fall was Anne, and she was only conscious of a severe shaking which had +half stupefied her for the time. The wheel lay flat in the road, so that +there was no possibility of driving further in their present plight. They +looked around for help. The only friendly object near was a lonely +cottage, from its situation evidently the home of a shepherd. + +The horse was unharnessed and tied to the back of the gig, and the three +women went across to the house. On getting close they found that the +shutters of all the lower windows were closed, but on trying the door it +opened to the hand. Nobody was within; the house appeared to have been +abandoned in some confusion, and the probability was that the shepherd +had fled on hearing the alarm. Anne now said that she felt the effects +of her fall too severely to be able to go any further just then, and it +was agreed that she should be left there while Mrs. Loveday and Molly +went on for assistance, the elder lady deeming Molly too young and vacant- +minded to be trusted to go alone. Molly suggested taking the horse, as +the distance might be great, each of them sitting alternately on his back +while the other led him by the head. This they did, Anne watching them +vanish down the white and lumpy road. + +She then looked round the room, as well as she could do so by the light +from the open door. It was plain, from the shutters being closed, that +the shepherd had left his house before daylight, the candle and +extinguisher on the table pointing to the same conclusion. Here she +remained, her eyes occasionally sweeping the bare, sunny expanse of down, +that was only relieved from absolute emptiness by the overturned gig hard +by. The sheep seemed to have gone away, and scarcely a bird flew across +to disturb the solitude. Anne had risen early that morning, and leaning +back in the withy chair, which she had placed by the door, she soon fell +into an uneasy doze, from which she was awakened by the distant tramp of +a horse. Feeling much recovered from the effects of the overturn, she +eagerly rose and looked out. The horse was not Miller Loveday's, but a +powerful bay, bearing a man in full yeomanry uniform. + +Anne did not wait to recognize further; instantly re-entering the house, +she shut the door and bolted it. In the dark she sat and listened: not a +sound. At the end of ten minutes, thinking that the rider if he were not +Festus had carelessly passed by, or that if he were Festus he had not +seen her, she crept softly upstairs and peeped out of the window. +Excepting the spot of shade, formed by the gig as before, the down was +quite bare. She then opened the casement and stretched out her neck. + +'Ha, young madam! There you are! I knew 'ee! Now you are caught!' came +like a clap of thunder from a point three or four feet beneath her, and +turning down her frightened eyes she beheld Festus Derriman lurking close +to the wall. His attention had first been attracted by her shutting the +door of the cottage; then by the overturned gig; and after making sure, +by examining the vehicle, that he was not mistaken in her identity, he +had dismounted, led his horse round to the side, and crept up to entrap +her. + +Anne started back into the room, and remained still as a stone. Festus +went on--'Come, you must trust to me. The French have landed. I have +been trying to meet with you every hour since that confounded trick you +played me. You threw me into the water. Faith, it was well for you I +didn't catch ye then! I should have taken a revenge in a better way than +I shall now. I mean to have that kiss of ye. Come, Miss Nancy; do you +hear?--'Tis no use for you to lurk inside there. You'll have to turn out +as soon as Boney comes over the hill--Are you going to open the door, I +say, and speak to me in a civil way? What do you think I am, then, that +you should barricade yourself against me as if I was a wild beast or +Frenchman? Open the door, or put out your head, or do something; or 'pon +my soul I'll break in the door!' + +It occurred to Anne at this point of the tirade that the best policy +would be to temporize till somebody should return, and she put out her +head and face, now grown somewhat pale. + +'That's better,' said Festus. 'Now I can talk to you. Come, my dear, +will you open the door? Why should you be afraid of me?' + +'I am not altogether afraid of you; I am safe from the French here,' said +Anne, not very truthfully, and anxiously casting her eyes over the vacant +down. + +'Then let me tell you that the alarm is false, and that no landing has +been attempted. Now will you open the door and let me in? I am tired. I +have been on horseback ever since daylight, and have come to bring you +the good tidings.' + +Anne looked as if she doubted the news. + +'Come,' said Festus. + +'No, I cannot let you in,' she murmured, after a pause. + +'Dash my wig, then,' he cried, his face flaming up, 'I'll find a way to +get in! Now, don't you provoke me! You don't know what I am capable of. +I ask you again, will you open the door?' + +'Why do you wish it?' she said faintly. + +'I have told you I want to sit down; and I want to ask you a question.' + +'You can ask me from where you are.' + +'I cannot ask you properly. It is about a serious matter: whether you +will accept my heart and hand. I am not going to throw myself at your +feet; but I ask you to do your duty as a woman, namely, give your solemn +word to take my name as soon as the war is over and I have time to attend +to you. I scorn to ask it of a haughty hussy who will only speak to me +through a window; however, I put it to you for the last time, madam.' + +There was no sign on the down of anybody's return, and she said, 'I'll +think of it, sir.' + +'You have thought of it long enough; I want to know. Will you or won't +you?' + +'Very well; I think I will.' And then she felt that she might be buying +personal safety too dearly by shuffling thus, since he would spread the +report that she had accepted him, and cause endless complication. 'No,' +she said, 'I have changed my mind. I cannot accept you, Mr. Derriman.' + +'That's how you play with me!' he exclaimed, stamping. '"Yes," one +moment; "No," the next. Come, you don't know what you refuse. That old +hall is my uncle's own, and he has nobody else to leave it to. As soon +as he's dead I shall throw up farming and start as a squire. And now,' +he added with a bitter sneer, 'what a fool you are to hang back from such +a chance!' + +'Thank you, I don't value it,' said Anne. + +'Because you hate him who would make it yours?' + +'It may not lie in your power to do that.' + +'What--has the old fellow been telling you his affairs?' + +'No.' + +'Then why do you mistrust me? Now, after this will you open the door, +and show that you treat me as a friend if you won't accept me as a lover? +I only want to sit and talk to you.' + +Anne thought she would trust him; it seemed almost impossible that he +could harm her. She retired from the window and went downstairs. When +her hand was upon the bolt of the door, her mind misgave her. Instead of +withdrawing it she remained in silence where she was, and he began again-- + +'Are you going to unfasten it?' + +Anne did not speak. + +'Now, dash my wig, I will get at you! You've tried me beyond endurance. +One kiss would have been enough that day in the mead; now I'll have +forty, whether you will or no!' + +He flung himself against the door; but as it was bolted, and had in +addition a great wooden bar across it, this produced no effect. He was +silent for a moment, and then the terrified girl heard him attempt the +shuttered window. She ran upstairs and again scanned the down. The +yellow gig still lay in the blazing sunshine, and the horse of Festus +stood by the corner of the garden--nothing else was to be seen. At this +moment there came to her ear the noise of a sword drawn from its +scabbard; and, peeping over the window-sill, she saw her tormentor drive +his sword between the joints of the shutters, in an attempt to rip them +open. The sword snapped off in his hand. With an imprecation he pulled +out the piece, and returned the two halves to the scabbard. + +'Ha! ha!' he cried, catching sight of the top of her head. ''Tis only a +joke, you know; but I'll get in all the same. All for a kiss! But never +mind, we'll do it yet!' He spoke in an affectedly light tone, as if +ashamed of his previous resentful temper; but she could see by the livid +back of his neck that he was brimful of suppressed passion. 'Only a +jest, you know,' he went on. 'How are we going to do it now? Why, in +this way. I go and get a ladder, and enter at the upper window where my +love is. And there's the ladder lying under that corn-rick in the first +enclosed field. Back in two minutes, dear!' + +He ran off, and was lost to her view. + + + + +XXVIII. ANNE DOES WONDERS + + +Anne fearfully surveyed her position. The upper windows of the cottage +were of flimsiest lead-work, and to keep him out would be hopeless. She +felt that not a moment was to be lost in getting away. Running +downstairs she opened the door, and then it occurred to her terrified +understanding that there would be no chance of escaping him by flight +afoot across such an extensive down, since he might mount his horse and +easily ride after her. The animal still remained tethered at the corner +of the garden; if she could release him and frighten him away before +Festus returned, there would not be quite such odds against her. She +accordingly unhooked the horse by reaching over the bank, and then, +pulling off her muslin neckerchief, flapped it in his eyes to startle +him. But the gallant steed did not move or flinch; she tried again, and +he seemed rather pleased than otherwise. At this moment she heard a cry +from the cottage, and turning, beheld her adversary approaching round the +corner of the building. + +'I thought I should tole out the mouse by that trick!' cried Festus +exultingly. Instead of going for a ladder, he had simply hidden himself +at the back to tempt her down. + +Poor Anne was now desperate. The bank on which she stood was level with +the horse's back, and the creature seemed quiet as a lamb. With a +determination of which she was capable in emergencies, she seized the +rein, flung herself upon the sheepskin, and held on by the mane. The +amazed charger lifted his head, sniffed, wrenched his ears hither and +thither, and started off at a frightful speed across the down. + +'O, my heart and limbs!' said Festus under his breath, as, thoroughly +alarmed, he gazed after her. 'She on Champion! She'll break her neck, +and I shall be tried for manslaughter, and disgrace will be brought upon +the name of Derriman!' + +Champion continued to go at a stretch-gallop, but he did nothing worse. +Had he plunged or reared, Derriman's fears might have been verified, and +Anne have come with deadly force to the ground. But the course was good, +and in the horse's speed lay a comparative security. She was scarcely +shaken in her precarious half-horizontal position, though she was awed to +see the grass, loose stones, and other objects pass her eyes like strokes +whenever she opened them, which was only just for a second at intervals +of half a minute; and to feel how wildly the stirrups swung, and that +what struck her knee was the bucket of the carbine, and that it was a +pistol-holster which hurt her arm. + +They quickly cleared the down, and Anne became conscious that the course +of the horse was homeward. As soon as the ground began to rise towards +the outer belt of upland which lay between her and the coast, Champion, +now panting and reeking with moisture, lessened his speed in sheer +weariness, and proceeded at a rapid jolting trot. Anne felt that she +could not hold on half so well; the gallop had been child's play compared +with this. They were in a lane, ascending to a ridge, and she made up +her mind for a fall. Over the ridge rose an animated spot, higher and +higher; it turned out to be the upper part of a man, and the man to be a +soldier. Such was Anne's attitude that she only got an occasional +glimpse of him; and, though she feared that he might be a Frenchman, she +feared the horse more than the enemy, as she had feared Festus more than +the horse. Anne had energy enough left to cry, 'Stop him; stop him!' as +the soldier drew near. + +He, astonished at the sight of a military horse with a bundle of drapery +across his back, had already placed himself in the middle of the lane, +and he now held out his arms till his figure assumed the form of a Latin +cross planted in the roadway. Champion drew near, swerved, and stood +still almost suddenly, a check sufficient to send Anne slipping down his +flank to the ground. The timely friend stepped forward and helped her to +her feet, when she saw that he was John Loveday. + +'Are you hurt?' he said hastily, having turned quite pale at seeing her +fall. + +'O no; not a bit,' said Anne, gathering herself up with forced briskness, +to make light of the misadventure. + +'But how did you get in such a place?' + +'There, he's gone!' she exclaimed, instead of replying, as Champion swept +round John Loveday and cantered off triumphantly in the direction of +Oxwell, a performance which she followed with her eyes. + +'But how did you come upon his back, and whose horse is it?' + +'I will tell you.' + +'Well?' + +'I--cannot tell you.' + +John looked steadily at her, saying nothing. + +'How did you come here?' she asked. 'Is it true that the French have not +landed at all?' + +'Quite true; the alarm was groundless. I'll tell you all about it. You +look very tired. You had better sit down a few minutes. Let us sit on +this bank.' + +He helped her to the slope indicated, and continued, still as if his +thoughts were more occupied with the mystery of her recent situation than +with what he was saying: 'We arrived at Budmouth Barracks this morning, +and are to lie there all the summer. I could not write to tell father we +were coming. It was not because of any rumour of the French, for we knew +nothing of that till we met the people on the road, and the colonel said +in a moment the news was false. Buonaparte is not even at Boulogne just +now. I was anxious to know how you had borne the fright, so I hastened +to Overcombe at once, as soon as I could get out of barracks.' + +Anne, who had not been at all responsive to his discourse, now swayed +heavily against him, and looking quickly down he found that she had +silently fainted. To support her in his arms was of course the impulse +of a moment. There was no water to be had, and he could think of nothing +else but to hold her tenderly till she came round again. Certainly he +desired nothing more. + +Again he asked himself, what did it all mean? + +He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids, and at the row of lashes +lying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed itself in singular +perfection now that the customary pink had given place to a pale +luminousness caught from the surrounding atmosphere. The dumpy ringlets +about her forehead and behind her poll, which were usually as tight as +springs, had been partially uncoiled by the wildness of her ride, and +hung in split locks over her forehead and neck. John, who, during the +long months of his absence, had lived only to meet her again, was in a +state of ecstatic reverence, and bending down he gently kissed her. + +Anne was just becoming conscious. + +'O, Mr. Derriman, never, never!' she murmured, sweeping her face with her +hand. + +'I thought he was at the bottom of it,' said John. + +Anne opened her eyes, and started back from him. 'What is it?' she said +wildly. + +'You are ill, my dear Miss Garland,' replied John in trembling anxiety, +and taking her hand. + +'I am not ill, I am wearied out!' she said. 'Can't we walk on? How far +are we from Overcombe?' + +'About a mile. But tell me, somebody has been hurting you--frightening +you. I know who it was; it was Derriman, and that was his horse. Now do +you tell me all.' + +Anne reflected. 'Then if I tell you,' she said, 'will you discuss with +me what I had better do, and not for the present let my mother and your +father know? I don't want to alarm them, and I must not let my affairs +interrupt the business connexion between the mill and the hall that has +gone on for so many years.' + +The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told the adventure. His brow +reddened as she went on, and when she had done she said, 'Now you are +angry. Don't do anything dreadful, will you? Remember that this Festus +will most likely succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite of present +appearances, and if Bob succeeds at the mill there should be no enmity +between them.' + +'That's true. I won't tell Bob. Leave him to me. Where is Derriman +now? On his way home, I suppose. When I have seen you into the house I +will deal with him--quite quietly, so that he shall say nothing about +it.' + +'Yes, appeal to him, do! Perhaps he will be better then.' + +They walked on together, Loveday seeming to experience much quiet bliss. + +'I came to look for you,' he said, 'because of that dear, sweet letter +you wrote.' + +'Yes, I did write you a letter,' she admitted, with misgiving, now +beginning to see her mistake. 'It was because I was sorry I had blamed +you.' + +'I am almost glad you did blame me,' said John cheerfully, 'since, if you +had not, the letter would not have come. I have read it fifty times a +day.' + +This put Anne into an unhappy mood, and they proceeded without much +further talk till the mill chimneys were visible below them. John then +said that he would leave her to go in by herself. + +'Ah, you are going back to get into some danger on my account?' + +'I can't get into much danger with such a fellow as he, can I?' said +John, smiling. + +'Well, no,' she answered, with a sudden carelessness of tone. It was +indispensable that he should be undeceived, and to begin the process by +taking an affectedly light view of his personal risks was perhaps as good +a way to do it as any. Where friendliness was construed as love, an +assumed indifference was the necessary expression for friendliness. + +So she let him go; and, bidding him hasten back as soon as he could, went +down the hill, while John's feet retraced the upland. + +The trumpet-major spent the whole afternoon and evening in that long and +difficult search for Festus Derriman. Crossing the down at the end of +the second hour he met Molly and Mrs. Loveday. The gig had been +repaired, they had learnt the groundlessness of the alarm, and they would +have been proceeding happily enough but for their anxiety about Anne. +John told them shortly that she had got a lift home, and proceeded on his +way. + +The worthy object of his search had in the meantime been plodding +homeward on foot, sulky at the loss of his charger, encumbered with his +sword, belts, high boots, and uniform, and in his own discomfiture +careless whether Anne Garland's life had been endangered or not. + +At length Derriman reached a place where the road ran between high banks, +one of which he mounted and paced along as a change from the hard +trackway. Ahead of him he saw an old man sitting down, with eyes fixed +on the dust of the road, as if resting and meditating at one and the same +time. Being pretty sure that he recognized his uncle in that venerable +figure, Festus came forward stealthily, till he was immediately above the +old man's back. The latter was clothed in faded nankeen breeches, +speckled stockings, a drab hat, and a coat which had once been light +blue, but from exposure as a scarecrow had assumed the complexion and +fibre of a dried pudding-cloth. The farmer was, in fact, returning to +the hall, which he had left in the morning some time later than his +nephew, to seek an asylum in a hollow tree about two miles off. The tree +was so situated as to command a view of the building, and Uncle Benjy had +managed to clamber up inside this natural fortification high enough to +watch his residence through a hole in the bark, till, gathering from the +words of occasional passers-by that the alarm was at least premature, he +had ventured into daylight again. + +He was now engaged in abstractedly tracing a diagram in the dust with his +walking-stick, and muttered words to himself aloud. Presently he arose +and went on his way without turning round. Festus was curious enough to +descend and look at the marks. They represented an oblong, with two semi- +diagonals, and a little square in the middle. Upon the diagonals were +the figures 20 and 17, and on each side of the parallelogram stood a +letter signifying the point of the compass. + +'What crazy thing is running in his head now?' said Festus to himself, +with supercilious pity, recollecting that the farmer had been singing +those very numbers earlier in the morning. Being able to make nothing of +it, he lengthened his strides, and treading on tiptoe overtook his +relative, saluting him by scratching his back like a hen. The startled +old farmer danced round like a top, and gasping, said, as he perceived +his nephew, 'What, Festy! not thrown from your horse and killed, then, +after all!' + +'No, nunc. What made ye think that?' + +'Champion passed me about an hour ago, when I was in hiding--poor timid +soul of me, for I had nothing to lose by the French coming--and he looked +awful with the stirrups dangling and the saddle empty. 'Tis a gloomy +sight, Festy, to see a horse cantering without a rider, and I thought you +had been--feared you had been thrown off and killed as dead as a nit.' + +'Bless your dear old heart for being so anxious! And what pretty picture +were you drawing just now with your walking-stick!' + +'O, that! That is only a way I have of amusing myself. It showed how +the French might have advanced to the attack, you know. Such trifles +fill the head of a weak old man like me.' + +'Or the place where something is hid away--money, for instance?' + +'Festy,' said the farmer reproachfully, 'you always know I use the old +glove in the bedroom cupboard for any guinea or two I possess.' + +'Of course I do,' said Festus ironically. + +They had now reached a lonely inn about a mile and a half from the hall, +and, the farmer not responding to his nephew's kind invitation to come in +and treat him, Festus entered alone. He was dusty, draggled, and weary, +and he remained at the tavern long. The trumpet-major, in the meantime, +having searched the roads in vain, heard in the course of the evening of +the yeoman's arrival at this place, and that he would probably be found +there still. He accordingly approached the door, reaching it just as the +dusk of evening changed to darkness. + +There was no light in the passage, but John pushed on at hazard, inquired +for Derriman, and was told that he would be found in the back parlour +alone. When Loveday first entered the apartment he was unable to see +anything, but following the guidance of a vigorous snoring, he came to +the settle, upon which Festus lay asleep, his position being faintly +signified by the shine of his buttons and other parts of his uniform. +John laid his hand upon the reclining figure and shook him, and by +degrees Derriman stopped his snore and sat up. + +'Who are you?' he said, in the accents of a man who has been drinking +hard. 'Is it you, dear Anne? Let me kiss you; yes, I will.' + +'Shut your mouth, you pitiful blockhead; I'll teach you genteeler manners +than to persecute a young woman in that way!' and taking Festus by the +ear, he gave it a good pull. Festus broke out with an oath, and struck a +vague blow in the air with his fist; whereupon the trumpet-major dealt +him a box on the right ear, and a similar one on the left to artistically +balance the first. Festus jumped up and used his fists wildly, but +without any definite result. + +'Want to fight, do ye, eh?' said John. 'Nonsense! you can't fight, you +great baby, and never could. You are only fit to be smacked!' and he +dealt Festus a specimen of the same on the cheek with the palm of his +hand. + +'No, sir, no! O, you are Loveday, the young man she's going to be +married to, I suppose? Dash me, I didn't want to hurt her, sir.' + +'Yes, my name is Loveday; and you'll know where to find me, since we +can't finish this to-night. Pistols or swords, whichever you like, my +boy. Take that, and that, so that you may not forget to call upon me!' +and again he smacked the yeoman's ears and cheeks. 'Do you know what it +is for, eh?' + +'No, Mr. Loveday, sir--yes, I mean, I do.' + +'What is it for, then? I shall keep smacking until you tell me. Gad! if +you weren't drunk, I'd half kill you here to-night.' + +'It is because I served her badly. Damned if I care! I'll do it again, +and be hanged to 'ee! Where's my horse Champion? Tell me that,' and he +hit at the trumpet-major. + +John parried this attack, and taking him firmly by the collar, pushed him +down into the seat, saying, 'Here I hold 'ee till you beg pardon for your +doings to-day. Do you want any more of it, do you?' And he shook the +yeoman to a sort of jelly. + +'I do beg pardon--no, I don't. I say this, that you shall not take such +liberties with old Squire Derriman's nephew, you dirty miller's son, you +flour-worm, you smut in the corn! I'll call you out to-morrow morning, +and have my revenge.' + +'Of course you will; that's what I came for.' And pushing him back into +the corner of the settle, Loveday went out of the house, feeling +considerable satisfaction at having got himself into the beginning of as +nice a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most jealous lover could desire. + +But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the least +notion--that Festus Derriman, misled by the darkness, the fumes of his +potations, and the constant sight of Anne and Bob together, never once +supposed his assailant to be any other man than Bob, believing the +trumpet-major miles away. + +There was a moon during the early part of John's walk home, but when he +had arrived within a mile of Overcombe the sky clouded over, and rain +suddenly began to fall with some violence. Near him was a wooden granary +on tall stone staddles, and perceiving that the rain was only a +thunderstorm which would soon pass away, he ascended the steps and +entered the doorway, where he stood watching the half-obscured moon +through the streaming rain. Presently, to his surprise, he beheld a +female figure running forward with great rapidity, not towards the +granary for shelter, but towards open ground. What could she be running +for in that direction? The answer came in the appearance of his brother +Bob from that quarter, seated on the back of his father's heavy horse. As +soon as the woman met him, Bob dismounted and caught her in his arms. +They stood locked together, the rain beating into their unconscious +forms, and the horse looking on. + +The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw himself on a +heap of empty sacks which lay in the corner: he had recognized the woman +to be Anne. Here he reclined in a stupor till he was aroused by the +sound of voices under him, the voices of Anne and his brother, who, +having at last discovered that they were getting wet, had taken shelter +under the granary floor. + +'I have been home,' said she. 'Mother and Molly have both got back long +ago. We were all anxious about you, and I came out to look for you. O, +Bob, I am so glad to see you again!' + +John might have heard every word of the conversation, which was continued +in the same strain for a long time; but he stopped his ears, and would +not. Still they remained, and still was he determined that they should +not see him. With the conserved hope of more than half a year dashed +away in a moment, he could yet feel that the cruelty of a protest would +be even greater than its inutility. It was absolutely by his own +contrivance that the situation had been shaped. Bob, left to himself, +would long ere this have been the husband of another woman. + +The rain decreased, and the lovers went on. John looked after them as +they strolled, aqua-tinted by the weak moon and mist. Bob had thrust one +of his arms through the rein of the horse, and the other was round Anne's +waist. When they were lost behind the declivity the trumpet-major came +out, and walked homeward even more slowly than they. As he went on, his +face put off its complexion of despair for one of serene resolve. For +the first time in his dealings with friends he entered upon a course of +counterfeiting, set his features to conceal his thought, and instructed +his tongue to do likewise. He threw fictitiousness into his very gait, +even now, when there was nobody to see him, and struck at stems of wild +parsley with his regimental switch as he had used to do when soldiering +was new to him, and life in general a charming experience. + +Thus cloaking his sickly thought, he descended to the mill as the others +had done before him, occasionally looking down upon the wet road to +notice how close Anne's little tracks were to Bob's all the way along, +and how precisely a curve in his course was followed by a curve in hers. +But after this he erected his head and walked so smartly up to the front +door that his spurs rang through the court. + +They had all reached home, but before any of them could speak he cried +gaily, 'Ah, Bob, I have been thinking of you! By God, how are you, my +boy? No French cut-throats after all, you see. Here we are, well and +happy together again.' + +'A good Providence has watched over us,' said Mrs. Loveday cheerfully. +'Yes, in all times and places we are in God's hand.' + +'So we be, so we be!' said the miller, who still shone in all the +fierceness of uniform. 'Well, now we'll ha'e a drop o' drink.' + +'There's none,' said David, coming forward with a drawn face. + +'What!' said the miller. + +'Afore I went to church for a pike to defend my native country from +Boney, I pulled out the spigots of all the barrels, maister; for, thinks +I--damn him!--since we can't drink it ourselves, he shan't have it, nor +none of his men.' + +'But you shouldn't have done it till you was sure he'd come!' said the +miller, aghast. + +'Chok' it all, I was sure!' said David. 'I'd sooner see churches fall +than good drink wasted; but how was I to know better?' + +'Well, well; what with one thing and another this day will cost me a +pretty penny!' said Loveday, bustling off to the cellar, which he found +to be several inches deep in stagnant liquor. 'John, how can I welcome +'ee?' he continued hopelessly, on his return to the room. 'Only go and +see what he's done!' + +'I've ladled up a drap wi' a spoon, trumpet-major,' said David. ''Tisn't +bad drinking, though it do taste a little of the floor, that's true.' + +John said that he did not require anything at all; and then they all sat +down to supper, and were very temperately gay with a drop of mild elder- +wine which Mrs. Loveday found in the bottom of a jar. The trumpet-major, +adhering to the part he meant to play, gave humorous accounts of his +adventures since he had last sat there. He told them that the season was +to be a very lively one--that the royal family was coming, as usual, and +many other interesting things; so that when he left them to return to +barracks few would have supposed the British army to contain a lighter- +hearted man. + +Anne was the only one who doubted the reality of this behaviour. When +she had gone up to her bedroom she stood for some time looking at the +wick of the candle as if it were a painful object, the expression of her +face being shaped by the conviction that John's afternoon words when he +helped her out of the way of Champion were not in accordance with his +words to-night, and that the dimly-realized kiss during her faintness was +no imaginary one. But in the blissful circumstances of having Bob at +hand again she took optimist views, and persuaded herself that John would +soon begin to see her in the light of a sister. + + + + +XXIX. A DISSEMBLER + + +To cursory view, John Loveday seemed to accomplish this with amazing +ease. Whenever he came from barracks to Overcombe, which was once or +twice a week, he related news of all sorts to her and Bob with infinite +zest, and made the time as happy a one as had ever been known at the +mill, save for himself alone. He said nothing of Festus, except so far +as to inform Anne that he had expected to see him and been disappointed. +On the evening after the King's arrival at his seaside residence John +appeared again, staying to supper and describing the royal entry, the +many tasteful illuminations and transparencies which had been exhibited, +the quantities of tallow candles burnt for that purpose, and the swarms +of aristocracy who had followed the King thither. + +When supper was over Bob went outside the house to shut the shutters, +which had, as was often the case, been left open some time after lights +were kindled within. John still sat at the table when his brother +approached the window, though the others had risen and retired. Bob was +struck by seeing through the pane how John's face had changed. Throughout +the supper-time he had been talking to Anne in the gay tone habitual with +him now, which gave greater strangeness to the gloom of his present +appearance. He remained in thought for a moment, took a letter from his +breast-pocket, opened it, and, with a tender smile at his weakness, +kissed the writing before restoring it to its place. The letter was one +that Anne had written to him at Exonbury. + +Bob stood perplexed; and then a suspicion crossed his mind that John, +from brotherly goodness, might be feigning a satisfaction with recent +events which he did not feel. Bob now made a noise with the shutters, at +which the trumpet-major rose and went out, Bob at once following him. + +'Jack,' said the sailor ingenuously, 'I'm terribly sorry that I've done +wrong.' + +'How?' asked his brother. + +'In courting our little Anne. Well, you see, John, she was in the same +house with me, and somehow or other I made myself her beau. But I have +been thinking that perhaps you had the first claim on her, and if so, +Jack, I'll make way for 'ee. I--I don't care for her much, you know--not +so very much, and can give her up very well. It is nothing serious +between us at all. Yes, John, you try to get her; I can look elsewhere.' +Bob never knew how much he loved Anne till he found himself making this +speech of renunciation. + +'O Bob, you are mistaken!' said the trumpet-major, who was not deceived. +'When I first saw her I admired her, and I admire her now, and like her. +I like her so well that I shall be glad to see you marry her.' + +'But,' replied Bob, with hesitation, 'I thought I saw you looking very +sad, as if you were in love; I saw you take out a letter, in short. +That's what it was disturbed me and made me come to you.' + +'O, I see your mistake!' said John, laughing forcedly. + +At this minute Mrs. Loveday and the miller, who were taking a twilight +walk in the garden, strolled round near to where the brothers stood. She +talked volubly on events in Budmouth, as most people did at this time. +'And they tell me that the theatre has been painted up afresh,' she was +saying, 'and that the actors have come for the season, with the most +lovely actresses that ever were seen.' + +When they had passed by John continued, 'I _am_ in love, Bob; but--not +with Anne.' + +'Ah! who is it then?' said the mate hopefully. + +'One of the actresses at the theatre,' John replied, with a concoctive +look at the vanishing forms of Mr. and Mrs. Loveday. 'She is a very +lovely woman, you know. But we won't say anything more about it--it +dashes a man so.' + +'O, one of the actresses!' said Bob, with open mouth. + +'But don't you say anything about it!' continued the trumpet-major +heartily. 'I don't want it known.' + +'No, no--I won't, of course. May I not know her name?' + +'No, not now, Bob. I cannot tell 'ee,' John answered, and with truth, +for Loveday did not know the name of any actress in the world. + +When his brother had gone, Captain Bob hastened off in a state of great +animation to Anne, whom he found on the top of a neighbouring hillock +which the daylight had scarcely as yet deserted. + +'You have been a long time coming, sir,' said she, in sprightly tones of +reproach. + +'Yes, dearest; and you'll be glad to hear why. I've found out the whole +mystery--yes--why he's queer, and everything.' + +Anne looked startled. + +'He's up to the gunnel in love! We must try to help him on in it, or I +fear he'll go melancholy-mad like.' + +'We help him?' she asked faintly. + +'He's lost his heart to one of the play-actresses at Budmouth, and I +think she slights him.' + +'O, I am so glad!' she exclaimed. + +'Glad that his venture don't prosper?' + +'O no; glad he's so sensible. How long is it since that alarm of the +French?' + +'Six weeks, honey. Why do you ask?' + +'Men can forget in six weeks, can't they, Bob?' + +The impression that John had really kissed her still remained. + +'Well, some men might,' observed Bob judicially. '_I_ couldn't. Perhaps +John might. I couldn't forget _you_ in twenty times as long. Do you +know, Anne, I half thought it was you John cared about; and it was a +weight off my heart when he said he didn't.' + +'Did he say he didn't?' + +'Yes. He assured me himself that the only person in the hold of his +heart was this lovely play-actress, and nobody else.' + +'How I should like to see her!' + +'Yes. So should I.' + +'I would rather it had been one of our own neighbours' girls, whose birth +and breeding we know of; but still, if that is his taste, I hope it will +end well for him. How very quick he has been! I certainly wish we could +see her.' + +'I don't know so much as her name. He is very close, and wouldn't tell a +thing about her.' + +'Couldn't we get him to go to the theatre with us? and then we could +watch him, and easily find out the right one. Then we would learn if she +is a good young woman; and if she is, could we not ask her here, and so +make it smoother for him? He has been very gay lately; that means +budding love: and sometimes between his gaieties he has had melancholy +moments; that means there's difficulty.' + +Bob thought her plan a good one, and resolved to put it in practice on +the first available evening. Anne was very curious as to whether John +did really cherish a new passion, the story having quite surprised her. +Possibly it was true; six weeks had passed since John had shown a single +symptom of the old attachment, and what could not that space of time +effect in the heart of a soldier whose very profession it was to leave +girls behind him? + +After this John Loveday did not come to see them for nearly a month, a +neglect which was set down by Bob as an additional proof that his +brother's affections were no longer exclusively centred in his old home. +When at last he did arrive, and the theatre-going was mentioned to him, +the flush of consciousness which Anne expected to see upon his face was +unaccountably absent. + +'Yes, Bob; I should very well like to go to the theatre,' he replied +heartily. 'Who is going besides?' + +'Only Anne,' Bob told him, and then it seemed to occur to the trumpet- +major that something had been expected of him. He rose and said +privately to Bob with some confusion, 'O yes, of course we'll go. As I +am connected with one of the--in short I can get you in for nothing, you +know. At least let me manage everything.' + +'Yes, yes. I wonder you didn't propose to take us before, Jack, and let +us have a good look at her.' + +'I ought to have. You shall go on a King's night. You won't want me to +point her out, Bob; I have my reasons at present for asking it?' + +'We'll be content with guessing,' said his brother. + +When the gallant John was gone, Anne observed, 'Bob, how he is changed! I +watched him. He showed no feeling, even when you burst upon him suddenly +with the subject nearest his heart.' + +'It must be because his suit don't fay,' said Captain Bob. + + + + +XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL + + +In two or three days a message arrived asking them to attend at the +theatre on the coming evening, with the added request that they would +dress in their gayest clothes, to do justice to the places taken. +Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon they drove off, Bob having +clothed himself in a splendid suit, recently purchased as an attempt to +bring himself nearer to Anne's style when they appeared in public +together. As finished off by this dashing and really fashionable attire, +he was the perfection of a beau in the dog-days; pantaloons and boots of +the newest make; yards and yards of muslin wound round his neck, forming +a sort of asylum for the lower part of his face; two fancy waistcoats, +and coat-buttons like circular shaving glasses. The absurd extreme of +female fashion, which was to wear muslin dresses in January, was at this +time equalled by that of the men, who wore clothes enough in August to +melt them. Nobody would have guessed from Bob's presentation now that he +had ever been aloft on a dark night in the Atlantic, or knew the hundred +ingenuities that could be performed with a rope's end and a marline-spike +as well as his mother tongue. + +It was a day of days. Anne wore her celebrated celestial blue pelisse, +her Leghorn hat, and her muslin dress with the waist under the arms; the +latter being decorated with excellent Honiton lace bought of the woman +who travelled from that place to Overcombe and its neighbourhood with a +basketful of her own manufacture, and a cushion on which she worked by +the wayside. John met the lovers at the inn outside the town, and after +stabling the horse they entered the town together, the trumpet-major +informing them that the watering-place had never been so full before, +that the Court, the Prince of Wales, and everybody of consequence was +there, and that an attic could scarcely be got for money. The King had +gone for a cruise in his yacht, and they would be in time to see him +land. + +Then drums and fifes were heard, and in a minute or two they saw Sergeant +Stanner advancing along the street with a firm countenance, fiery poll, +and rigid staring eyes, in front of his recruiting-party. The sergeant's +sword was drawn, and at intervals of two or three inches along its +shining blade were impaled fluttering one-pound notes, to express the +lavish bounty that was offered. He gave a stern, suppressed nod of +friendship to our people, and passed by. Next they came up to a waggon, +bowered over with leaves and flowers, so that the men inside could hardly +be seen. + +'Come to see the King, hip-hip hurrah!' cried a voice within, and turning +they saw through the leaves the nose and face of Cripplestraw. The +waggon contained all Derriman's workpeople. + +'Is your master here?' said John. + +'No, trumpet-major, sir. But young maister is coming to fetch us at nine +o'clock, in case we should be too blind to drive home.' + +'O! where is he now?' + +'Never mind,' said Anne impatiently, at which the trumpet-major +obediently moved on. + +By the time they reached the pier it was six o'clock; the royal yacht was +returning; a fact announced by the ships in the harbour firing a salute. +The King came ashore with his hat in his hand, and returned the +salutations of the well-dressed crowd in his old indiscriminate fashion. +While this cheering and waving of handkerchiefs was going on Anne stood +between the two brothers, who protectingly joined their hands behind her +back, as if she were a delicate piece of statuary that a push might +damage. Soon the King had passed, and receiving the military salutes of +the piquet, joined the Queen and princesses at Gloucester Lodge, the +homely house of red brick in which he unostentatiously resided. + +As there was yet some little time before the theatre would open, they +strayed upon the velvet sands, and listened to the songs of the sailors, +one of whom extemporized for the occasion:-- + + 'Portland Road the King aboard, the King aboard! + Portland Road the King aboard, + We weighed and sailed from Portland Road!' {272} + +When they had looked on awhile at the combats at single-stick which were +in progress hard by, and seen the sum of five guineas handed over to the +modest gentleman who had broken most heads, they returned to Gloucester +Lodge, whence the King and other members of his family now reappeared, +and drove, at a slow trot, round to the theatre in carriages drawn by the +Hanoverian white horses that were so well known in the town at this date. + +When Anne and Bob entered the theatre they found that John had taken +excellent places, and concluded that he had got them for nothing through +the influence of the lady of his choice. As a matter of fact he had paid +full prices for those two seats, like any other outsider, and even then +had a difficulty in getting them, it being a King's night. When they +were settled he himself retired to an obscure part of the pit, from which +the stage was scarcely visible. + +'We can see beautifully,' said Bob, in an aristocratic voice, as he took +a delicate pinch of snuff, and drew out the magnificent +pocket-handkerchief brought home from the East for such occasions. 'But +I am afraid poor John can't see at all.' + +'But we can see him,' replied Anne, 'and notice by his face which of them +it is he is so charmed with. The light of that corner candle falls right +upon his cheek.' + +By this time the King had appeared in his place, which was overhung by a +canopy of crimson satin fringed with gold. About twenty places were +occupied by the royal family and suite; and beyond them was a crowd of +powdered and glittering personages of fashion, completely filling the +centre of the little building; though the King so frequently patronized +the local stage during these years that the crush was not inconvenient. + +The curtain rose and the play began. To-night it was one of Colman's, +who at this time enjoyed great popularity, and Mr. Bannister supported +the leading character. Anne, with her hand privately clasped in Bob's, +and looking as if she did not know it, partly watched the piece and +partly the face of the impressionable John who had so soon transferred +his affections elsewhere. She had not long to wait. When a certain one +of the subordinate ladies of the comedy entered on the stage the trumpet- +major in his corner not only looked conscious, but started and gazed with +parted lips. + +'This must be the one,' whispered Anne quickly. 'See, he is agitated!' + +She turned to Bob, but at the same moment his hand convulsively closed +upon hers as he, too, strangely fixed his eyes upon the newly-entered +lady. + +'What is it?' + +Anne looked from one to the other without regarding the stage at all. Her +answer came in the voice of the actress who now spoke for the first time. +The accents were those of Miss Matilda Johnson. + +One thought rushed into both their minds on the instant, and Bob was the +first to utter it. + +'What--is she the woman of his choice after all?' + +'If so, it is a dreadful thing!' murmured Anne. + +But, as may be imagined, the unfortunate John was as much surprised by +this rencounter as the other two. Until this moment he had been in utter +ignorance of the theatrical company and all that pertained to it. +Moreover, much as he knew of Miss Johnson, he was not aware that she had +ever been trained in her youth as an actress, and that after lapsing into +straits and difficulties for a couple of years she had been so fortunate +as to again procure an engagement here. + +The trumpet-major, though not prominently seated, had been seen by +Matilda already, who had observed still more plainly her old betrothed +and Anne in the other part of the house. John was not concerned on his +own account at being face to face with her, but at the extraordinary +suspicion that this conjuncture must revive in the minds of his best +beloved friends. After some moments of pained reflection he tapped his +knee. + +'Gad, I won't explain; it shall go as it is!' he said. 'Let them think +her mine. Better that than the truth, after all.' + +Had personal prominence in the scene been at this moment proportioned to +intentness of feeling, the whole audience, regal and otherwise, would +have faded into an indistinct mist of background, leaving as the sole +emergent and telling figures Bob and Anne at one point, the trumpet-major +on the left hand, and Matilda at the opposite corner of the stage. But +fortunately the deadlock of awkward suspense into which all four had +fallen was terminated by an accident. A messenger entered the King's box +with despatches. There was an instant pause in the performance. The +despatch-box being opened the King read for a few moments with great +interest, the eyes of the whole house, including those of Anne Garland, +being anxiously fixed upon his face; for terrible events fell as +unexpectedly as thunderbolts at this critical time of our history. The +King at length beckoned to Lord ---, who was immediately behind him, the +play was again stopped, and the contents of the despatch were publicly +communicated to the audience. + +Sir Robert Calder, cruising off Finisterre, had come in sight of +Villeneuve, and made the signal for action, which, though checked by the +weather, had resulted in the capture of two Spanish line-of-battle ships, +and the retreat of Villeneuve into Ferrol. + +The news was received with truly national feeling, if noise might be +taken as an index of patriotism. 'Rule Britannia' was called for and +sung by the whole house. But the importance of the event was far from +being recognized at this time; and Bob Loveday, as he sat there and heard +it, had very little conception how it would bear upon his destiny. + +This parenthetic excitement diverted for a few minutes the eyes of Bob +and Anne from the trumpet-major; and when the play proceeded, and they +looked back to his corner, he was gone. + +'He's just slipped round to talk to her behind the scenes,' said Bob +knowingly. 'Shall we go too, and tease him for a sly dog?' + +'No, I would rather not.' + +'Shall we go home, then?' + +'Not unless her presence is too much for you?' + +'O--not at all. We'll stay here. Ah, there she is again.' + +They sat on, and listened to Matilda's speeches which she delivered with +such delightful coolness that they soon began to considerably interest +one of the party. + +'Well, what a nerve the young woman has!' he said at last in tones of +admiration, and gazing at Miss Johnson with all his might. 'After all, +Jack's taste is not so bad. She's really deuced clever.' + +'Bob, I'll go home if you wish to,' said Anne quickly. + +'O no--let us see how she fleets herself off that bit of a scrape she's +playing at now. Well, what a hand she is at it, to be sure!' + +Anne said no more, but waited on, supremely uncomfortable, and almost +tearful. She began to feel that she did not like life particularly well; +it was too complicated: she saw nothing of the scene, and only longed to +get away, and to get Bob away with her. At last the curtain fell on the +final act, and then began the farce of 'No Song no Supper.' Matilda did +not appear in this piece, and Anne again inquired if they should go home. +This time Bob agreed, and taking her under his care with redoubled +affection, to make up for the species of coma which had seized upon his +heart for a time, he quietly accompanied her out of the house. + +When they emerged upon the esplanade, the August moon was shining across +the sea from the direction of St. Aldhelm's Head. Bob unconsciously +loitered, and turned towards the pier. Reaching the end of the promenade +they surveyed the quivering waters in silence for some time, until a long +dark line shot from behind the promontory of the Nothe, and swept forward +into the harbour. + +'What boat is that?' said Anne. + +'It seems to be some frigate lying in the Roads,' said Bob carelessly, as +he brought Anne round with a gentle pressure of his arm and bent his +steps towards the homeward end of the town. + +Meanwhile, Miss Johnson, having finished her duties for that evening, +rapidly changed her dress, and went out likewise. The prominent position +which Anne and Captain Bob had occupied side by side in the theatre, left +her no alternative but to suppose that the situation was arranged by Bob +as a species of defiance to herself; and her heart, such as it was, +became proportionately embittered against him. In spite of the rise in +her fortunes, Miss Johnson still remembered--and always would +remember--her humiliating departure from Overcombe; and it had been to +her even a more grievous thing that Bob had acquiesced in his brother's +ruling than that John had determined it. At the time of setting out she +was sustained by a firm faith that Bob would follow her, and nullify his +brother's scheme; but though she waited Bob never came. + +She passed along by the houses facing the sea, and scanned the shore, the +footway, and the open road close to her, which, illuminated by the +slanting moon to a great brightness, sparkled with minute facets of +crystallized salts from the water sprinkled there during the day. The +promenaders at the further edge appeared in dark profiles; and beyond +them was the grey sea, parted into two masses by the tapering braid of +moonlight across the waves. + +Two forms crossed this line at a startling nearness to her; she marked +them at once as Anne and Bob Loveday. They were walking slowly, and in +the earnestness of their discourse were oblivious of the presence of any +human beings save themselves. Matilda stood motionless till they had +passed. + +'How I love them!' she said, treading the initial step of her walk +onwards with a vehemence that walking did not demand. + +'So do I--especially one,' said a voice at her elbow; and a man wheeled +round her, and looked in her face, which had been fully exposed to the +moon. + +'You--who are you?' she asked. + +'Don't you remember, ma'am? We walked some way together towards +Overcombe earlier in the summer.' Matilda looked more closely, and +perceived that the speaker was Derriman, in plain clothes. He continued, +'You are one of the ladies of the theatre, I know. May I ask why you +said in such a queer way that you loved that couple?' + +'In a queer way?' + +'Well, as if you hated them.' + +'I don't mind your knowing that I have good reason to hate them. You do +too, it seems?' + +'That man,' said Festus savagely, 'came to me one night about that very +woman; insulted me before I could put myself on my guard, and ran away +before I could come up with him and avenge myself. The woman tricks me +at every turn! I want to part 'em.' + +'Then why don't you? There's a splendid opportunity. Do you see that +soldier walking along? He's a marine; he looks into the gallery of the +theatre every night: and he's in connexion with the press-gang that came +ashore just now from the frigate lying in Portland Roads. They are often +here for men.' + +'Yes. Our boatmen dread 'em.' + +'Well, we have only to tell him that Loveday is a seaman to be clear of +him this very night.' + +'Done!' said Festus. 'Take my arm and come this way.' They walked +across to the footway. 'Fine night, sergeant.' + +'It is, sir.' + +'Looking for hands, I suppose?' + +'It is not to be known, sir. We don't begin till half past ten.' + +'It is a pity you don't begin now. I could show 'ee excellent game.' + +'What, that little nest of fellows at the "Old Rooms" in Cove Row? I +have just heard of 'em.' + +'No--come here.' Festus, with Miss Johnson on his arm, led the sergeant +quickly along the parade, and by the time they reached the Narrows the +lovers, who walked but slowly, were visible in front of them. 'There's +your man,' he said. + +'That buck in pantaloons and half-boots--a looking like a squire?' + +'Twelve months ago he was mate of the brig Pewit; but his father has made +money, and keeps him at home.' + +'Faith, now you tell of it, there's a hint of sea legs about him. What's +the young beau's name?' + +'Don't tell!' whispered Matilda, impulsively clutching Festus's arm. + +But Festus had already said, 'Robert Loveday, son of the miller at +Overcombe. You may find several likely fellows in that neighbourhood.' + +The marine said that he would bear it in mind, and they left him. + +'I wish you had not told,' said Matilda tearfully. 'She's the worst!' + +'Dash my eyes now; listen to that! Why, you chicken-hearted old stager, +you was as well agreed as I. Come now; hasn't he used you badly?' + +Matilda's acrimony returned. 'I was down on my luck, or he wouldn't have +had the chance!' she said. + +'Well, then, let things be.' + + + + +XXXI. MIDNIGHT VISITORS + + +Miss Garland and Loveday walked leisurely to the inn and called for horse- +and-gig. While the hostler was bringing it round, the landlord, who knew +Bob and his family well, spoke to him quietly in the passage. + +'Is this then because you want to throw dust in the eyes of the Black +Diamond chaps?' (with an admiring glance at Bob's costume). + +'The Black Diamond?' said Bob; and Anne turned pale. + +'She hove in sight just after dark, and at nine o'clock a boat having +more than a dozen marines on board, with cloaks on, rowed into harbour.' + +Bob reflected. 'Then there'll be a press to-night; depend upon it,' he +said. + +'They won't know you, will they, Bob?' said Anne anxiously. + +'They certainly won't know him for a seaman now,' remarked the landlord, +laughing, and again surveying Bob up and down. 'But if I was you two, I +should drive home-along straight and quiet; and be very busy in the mill +all to-morrow, Mr. Loveday.' + +They drove away; and when they had got onward out of the town, Anne +strained her eyes wistfully towards Portland. Its dark contour, lying +like a whale on the sea, was just perceptible in the gloom as the +background to half-a-dozen ships' lights nearer at hand. + +'They can't make you go, now you are a gentleman tradesman, can they?' +she asked. + +'If they want me they can have me, dearest. I have often said I ought to +volunteer.' + +'And not care about me at all?' + +'It is just that that keeps me at home. I won't leave you if I can help +it.' + +'It cannot make such a vast difference to the country whether one man +goes or stays! But if you want to go you had better, and not mind us at +all!' + +Bob put a period to her speech by a mark of affection to which history +affords many parallels in every age. She said no more about the Black +Diamond; but whenever they ascended a hill she turned her head to look at +the lights in Portland Roads, and the grey expanse of intervening sea. + +Though Captain Bob had stated that he did not wish to volunteer, and +would not leave her if he could help it, the remark required some +qualification. That Anne was charming and loving enough to chain him +anywhere was true; but he had begun to find the mill-work terribly +irksome at times. Often during the last month, when standing among the +rumbling cogs in his new miller's suit, which ill became him, he had +yawned, thought wistfully of the old pea-jacket, and the waters of the +deep blue sea. His dread of displeasing his father by showing anything +of this change of sentiment was great; yet he might have braved it but +for knowing that his marriage with Anne, which he hoped might take place +the next year, was dependent entirely upon his adherence to the mill +business. Even were his father indifferent, Mrs. Loveday would never +intrust her only daughter to the hands of a husband who would be away +from home five-sixths of his time. + +But though, apart from Anne, he was not averse to seafaring in itself, to +be smuggled thither by the machinery of a press-gang was intolerable; and +the process of seizing, stunning, pinioning, and carrying off unwilling +hands was one which Bob as a man had always determined to hold out +against to the utmost of his power. Hence, as they went towards home, he +frequently listened for sounds behind him, but hearing none he assured +his sweetheart that they were safe for that night at least. The mill was +still going when they arrived, though old Mr. Loveday was not to be seen; +he had retired as soon as he heard the horse's hoofs in the lane, leaving +Bob to watch the grinding till three o'clock; when the elder would rise, +and Bob withdraw to bed--a frequent arrangement between them since Bob +had taken the place of grinder. + +Having reached the privacy of her own room, Anne threw open the window, +for she had not the slightest intention of going to bed just yet. The +tale of the Black Diamond had disturbed her by a slow, insidious process +that was worse than sudden fright. Her window looked into the court +before the house, now wrapped in the shadow of the trees and the hill; +and she leaned upon its sill listening intently. She could have heard +any strange sound distinctly enough in one direction; but in the other +all low noises were absorbed in the patter of the mill, and the rush of +water down the race. + +However, what she heard came from the hitherto silent side, and was +intelligible in a moment as being the footsteps of men. She tried to +think they were some late stragglers from Budmouth. Alas! no; the tramp +was too regular for that of villagers. She hastily turned, extinguished +the candle, and listened again. As they were on the main road there was, +after all, every probability that the party would pass the bridge which +gave access to the mill court without turning in upon it, or even +noticing that such an entrance existed. In this again she was +disappointed: they crossed into the front without a pause. The +pulsations of her heart became a turmoil now, for why should these men, +if they were the press-gang, and strangers to the locality, have supposed +that a sailor was to be found here, the younger of the two millers +Loveday being never seen now in any garb which could suggest that he was +other than a miller pure, like his father? One of the men spoke. + +'I am not sure that we are in the right place,' he said. + +'This is a mill, anyhow,' said another. + +'There's lots about here.' + +'Then come this way a moment with your light.' + +Two of the group went towards the cart-house on the opposite side of the +yard, and when they reached it a dark lantern was opened, the rays being +directed upon the front of the miller's waggon. + +'"Loveday and Son, Overcombe Mill,"' continued the man, reading from the +waggon. '"Son," you see, is lately painted in. That's our man.' + +He moved to turn off the light, but before he had done so it flashed over +the forms of the speakers, and revealed a sergeant, a naval officer, and +a file of marines. + +Anne waited to see no more. When Bob stayed up to grind, as he was doing +to-night, he often sat in his room instead of remaining all the time in +the mill; and this room was an isolated chamber over the bakehouse, which +could not be reached without going downstairs and ascending the +step-ladder that served for his staircase. Anne descended in the dark, +clambered up the ladder, and saw that light strayed through the chink +below the door. His window faced towards the garden, and hence the light +could not as yet have been seen by the press-gang. + +'Bob, dear Bob!' she said, through the keyhole. 'Put out your light, and +run out of the back-door!' + +'Why?' said Bob, leisurely knocking the ashes from the pipe he had been +smoking. + +'The press-gang!' + +'They have come? By God! who can have blown upon me? All right, +dearest. I'm game.' + +Anne, scarcely knowing what she did, descended the ladder and ran to the +back-door, hastily unbolting it to save Bob's time, and gently opening it +in readiness for him. She had no sooner done this than she felt hands +laid upon her shoulder from without, and a voice exclaiming, 'That's how +we doos it--quite an obleeging young man!' + +Though the hands held her rather roughly, Anne did not mind for herself, +and turning she cried desperately, in tones intended to reach Bob's ears: +'They are at the back-door; try the front!' + +But inexperienced Miss Garland little knew the shrewd habits of the +gentlemen she had to deal with, who, well used to this sort of pastime, +had already posted themselves at every outlet from the premises. + +'Bring the lantern,' shouted the fellow who held her. 'Why--'tis a girl! +I half thought so--Here is a way in,' he continued to his comrades, +hastening to the foot of the ladder which led to Bob's room. + +'What d'ye want?' said Bob, quietly opening the door, and showing himself +still radiant in the full dress that he had worn with such effect at the +Theatre Royal, which he had been about to change for his mill suit when +Anne gave the alarm. + +'This gentleman can't be the right one,' observed a marine, rather +impressed by Bob's appearance. + +'Yes, yes; that's the man,' said the sergeant. 'Now take it quietly, my +young cock-o'-wax. You look as if you meant to, and 'tis wise of ye.' + +'Where are you going to take me?' said Bob. + +'Only aboard the Black Diamond. If you choose to take the bounty and +come voluntarily, you'll be allowed to go ashore whenever your ship's in +port. If you don't, and we've got to pinion ye, you will not have your +liberty at all. As you must come, willy-nilly, you'll do the first if +you've any brains whatever.' + +Bob's temper began to rise. 'Don't you talk so large, about your +pinioning, my man. When I've settled--' + +'Now or never, young blow-hard,' interrupted his informant. + +'Come, what jabber is this going on?' said the lieutenant, stepping +forward. 'Bring your man.' + +One of the marines set foot on the ladder, but at the same moment a shoe +from Bob's hand hit the lantern with well-aimed directness, knocking it +clean out of the grasp of the man who held it. In spite of the darkness +they began to scramble up the ladder. Bob thereupon shut the door, which +being but of slight construction, was as he knew only a momentary +defence. But it gained him time enough to open the window, gather up his +legs upon the sill, and spring across into the apple-tree growing +without. He alighted without much hurt beyond a few scratches from the +boughs, a shower of falling apples testifying to the force of his leap. + +'Here he is!' shouted several below who had seen Bob's figure flying like +a raven's across the sky. + +There was stillness for a moment in the tree. Then the fugitive made +haste to climb out upon a low-hanging branch towards the garden, at which +the men beneath all rushed in that direction to catch him as he dropped, +saying, 'You may as well come down, old boy. 'Twas a spry jump, and we +give ye credit for 't.' + +The latter movement of Loveday had been a mere feint. Partly hidden by +the leaves he glided back to the other part of the tree, from whence it +was easy to jump upon a thatch-covered out-house. This intention they +did not appear to suspect, which gave him the opportunity of sliding down +the slope and entering the back door of the mill. + +'He's here, he's here!' the men exclaimed, running back from the tree. + +By this time they had obtained another light, and pursued him closely +along the back quarters of the mill. Bob had entered the lower room, +seized hold of the chain by which the flour-sacks were hoisted from story +to story by connexion with the mill-wheel, and pulled the rope that hung +alongside for the purpose of throwing it into gear. The foremost +pursuers arrived just in time to see Captain Bob's legs and shoe-buckles +vanishing through the trap-door in the joists overhead, his person having +been whirled up by the machinery like any bag of flour, and the trap +falling to behind him. + +'He's gone up by the hoist!' said the sergeant, running up the ladder in +the corner to the next floor, and elevating the light just in time to see +Bob's suspended figure ascending in the same way through the same sort of +trap into the second floor. The second trap also fell together behind +him, and he was lost to view as before. + +It was more difficult to follow now; there was only a flimsy little +ladder, and the men ascended cautiously. When they stepped out upon the +loft it was empty. + +'He must ha' let go here,' said one of the marines, who knew more about +mills than the others. 'If he had held fast a moment longer, he would +have been dashed against that beam.' + +They looked up. The hook by which Bob had held on had ascended to the +roof, and was winding round the cylinder. Nothing was visible elsewhere +but boarded divisions like the stalls of a stable, on each side of the +stage they stood upon, these compartments being more or less heaped up +with wheat and barley in the grain. + +'Perhaps he's buried himself in the corn.' + +The whole crew jumped into the corn-bins, and stirred about their yellow +contents; but neither arm, leg, nor coat-tail was uncovered. They +removed sacks, peeped among the rafters of the roof, but to no purpose. +The lieutenant began to fume at the loss of time. + +'What cursed fools to let the man go! Why, look here, what's this?' He +had opened the door by which sacks were taken in from waggons without, +and dangling from the cat-head projecting above it was the rope used in +lifting them. 'There's the way he went down,' the officer continued. +'The man's gone.' + +Amidst mumblings and curses the gang descended the pair of ladders and +came into the open air; but Captain Bob was nowhere to be seen. When +they reached the front door of the house the miller was standing on the +threshold, half dressed. + +'Your son is a clever fellow, miller,' said the lieutenant; 'but it would +have been much better for him if he had come quiet.' + +'That's a matter of opinion,' said Loveday. + +'I have no doubt that he's in the house.' + +'He may be; and he may not.' + +'Do you know where he is?' + +'I do not; and if I did I shouldn't tell.' + +'Naturally.' + +'I heard steps beating up the road, sir,' said the sergeant. + +They turned from the door, and leaving four of the marines to keep watch +round the house, the remainder of the party marched into the lane as far +as where the other road branched off. While they were pausing to decide +which course to take, one of the soldiers held up the light. A black +object was discernible upon the ground before them, and they found it to +be a hat--the hat of Bob Loveday. + +'We are on the track,' cried the sergeant, deciding for this direction. + +They tore on rapidly, and the footsteps previously heard became audible +again, increasing in clearness, which told that they gained upon the +fugitive, who in another five minutes stopped and turned. The rays of +the candle fell upon Anne. + +'What do you want?' she said, showing her frightened face. + +They made no reply, but wheeled round and left her. She sank down on the +bank to rest, having done all she could. It was she who had taken down +Bob's hat from a nail, and dropped it at the turning with the view of +misleading them till he should have got clear off. + + + + +XXXII. DELIVERANCE + + +But Anne Garland was too anxious to remain long away from the centre of +operations. When she got back she found that the press-gang were +standing in the court discussing their next move. + +'Waste no more time here,' the lieutenant said. 'Two more villages to +visit to-night, and the nearest three miles off. There's nobody else in +this place, and we can't come back again.' + +When they were moving away, one of the private marines, who had kept his +eye on Anne, and noticed her distress, contrived to say in a whisper as +he passed her, 'We are coming back again as soon as it begins to get +light; that's only said to deceive 'ee. Keep your young man out of the +way.' + +They went as they had come; and the little household then met together, +Mrs. Loveday having by this time dressed herself and come down. A long +and anxious discussion followed. + +'Somebody must have told upon the chap,' Loveday remarked. 'How should +they have found him out else, now he's been home from sea this +twelvemonth?' + +Anne then mentioned what the friendly marine had told her; and fearing +lest Bob was in the house, and would be discovered there when daylight +came, they searched and called for him everywhere. + +'What clothes has he got on?' said the miller. + +'His lovely new suit,' said his wife. 'I warrant it is quite spoiled!' + +'He's got no hat,' said Anne. + +'Well,' said Loveday, 'you two go and lie down now and I'll bide up; and +as soon as he comes in, which he'll do most likely in the course of the +night, I'll let him know that they are coming again.' + +Anne and Mrs. Loveday went to their bedrooms, and the miller entered the +mill as if he were simply staying up to grind. But he continually left +the flour-shoot to go outside and walk round; each time he could see no +living being near the spot. Anne meanwhile had lain down dressed upon +her bed, the window still open, her ears intent upon the sound of +footsteps and dreading the reappearance of daylight and the gang's +return. Three or four times during the night she descended to the mill +to inquire of her stepfather if Bob had shown himself; but the answer was +always in the negative. + +At length the curtains of her bed began to reveal their pattern, the +brass handles of the drawers gleamed forth, and day dawned. While the +light was yet no more than a suffusion of pallor, she arose, put on her +hat, and determined to explore the surrounding premises before the men +arrived. Emerging into the raw loneliness of the daybreak, she went upon +the bridge and looked up and down the road. It was as she had left it, +empty, and the solitude was rendered yet more insistent by the silence of +the mill-wheel, which was now stopped, the miller having given up +expecting Bob and retired to bed about three o'clock. The footprints of +the marines still remained in the dust on the bridge, all the heel-marks +towards the house, showing that the party had not as yet returned. + +While she lingered she heard a slight noise in the other direction, and, +turning, saw a woman approaching. The woman came up quickly, and, to her +amazement, Anne recognized Matilda. Her walk was convulsive, face pale, +almost haggard, and the cold light of the morning invested it with all +the ghostliness of death. She had plainly walked all the way from +Budmouth, for her shoes were covered with dust. + +'Has the press-gang been here?' she gasped. 'If not they are coming!' + +'They have been.' + +'And got him--I am too late!' + +'No; they are coming back again. Why did you--' + +'I came to try to save him. Can we save him? Where is he?' + +Anne looked the woman in the face, and it was impossible to doubt that +she was in earnest. + +'I don't know,' she answered. 'I am trying to find him before they +come.' + +'Will you not let me help you?' cried the repentant Matilda. + +Without either objecting or assenting Anne turned and led the way to the +back part of the homestead. + +Matilda, too, had suffered that night. From the moment of parting with +Festus Derriman a sentiment of revulsion from the act to which she had +been a party set in and increased, till at length it reached an intensity +of remorse which she could not passively bear. She had risen before day +and hastened thitherward to know the worst, and if possible hinder +consequences that she had been the first to set in train. + +After going hither and thither in the adjoining field, Anne entered the +garden. The walks were bathed in grey dew, and as she passed observantly +along them it appeared as if they had been brushed by some foot at a much +earlier hour. At the end of the garden, bushes of broom, laurel, and yew +formed a constantly encroaching shrubbery, that had come there almost by +chance, and was never trimmed. Behind these bushes was a garden-seat, +and upon it lay Bob sound asleep. + +The ends of his hair were clotted with damp, and there was a foggy film +upon the mirror-like buttons of his coat, and upon the buckles of his +shoes. His bunch of new gold seals was dimmed by the same insidious +dampness; his shirt-frill and muslin neckcloth were limp as seaweed. It +was plain that he had been there a long time. Anne shook him, but he did +not awake, his breathing being slow and stertorous. + +'Bob, wake; 'tis your own Anne!' she said, with innocent earnestness; and +then, fearfully turning her head, she saw that Matilda was close behind +her. + +'You needn't mind me,' said Matilda bitterly. 'I am on your side now. +Shake him again.' + +Anne shook him again, but he slept on. Then she noticed that his +forehead bore the mark of a heavy wound. + +'I fancy I hear something!' said her companion, starting forward and +endeavouring to wake Bob herself. 'He is stunned, or drugged!' she said; +'there is no rousing him.' + +Anne raised her head and listened. From the direction of the eastern +road came the sound of a steady tramp. 'They are coming back!' she said, +clasping her hands. 'They will take him, ill as he is! He won't open +his eyes--no, it is no use! O, what shall we do?' + +Matilda did not reply, but running to the end of the seat on which Bob +lay, tried its weight in her arms. + +'It is not too heavy,' she said. 'You take that end, and I'll take this. +We'll carry him away to some place of hiding.' + +Anne instantly seized the other end, and they proceeded with their burden +at a slow pace to the lower garden-gate, which they reached as the tread +of the press-gang resounded over the bridge that gave access to the mill +court, now hidden from view by the hedge and the trees of the garden. + +'We will go down inside this field,' said Anne faintly. + +'No!' said the other; 'they will see our foot-tracks in the dew. We must +go into the road.' + +'It is the very road they will come down when they leave the mill.' + +'It cannot be helped; it is neck or nothing with us now.' + +So they emerged upon the road, and staggered along without speaking, +occasionally resting for a moment to ease their arms; then shaking him to +arouse him, and finding it useless, seizing the seat again. When they +had gone about two hundred yards Matilda betrayed signs of exhaustion, +and she asked, 'Is there no shelter near?' + +'When we get to that little field of corn,' said Anne. + +'It is so very far. Surely there is some place near?' + +She pointed to a few scrubby bushes overhanging a little stream, which +passed under the road near this point. + +'They are not thick enough,' said Anne. + +'Let us take him under the bridge,' said Matilda. 'I can go no further.' + +Entering the opening by which cattle descended to drink, they waded into +the weedy water, which here rose a few inches above their ankles. To +ascend the stream, stoop under the arch, and reach the centre of the +roadway, was the work of a few minutes. + +'If they look under the arch we are lost,' murmured Anne. + +'There is no parapet to the bridge, and they may pass over without +heeding.' + +They waited, their heads almost in contact with the reeking arch, and +their feet encircled by the stream, which was at its summer lowness now. +For some minutes they could hear nothing but the babble of the water over +their ankles, and round the legs of the seat on which Bob slumbered, the +sounds being reflected in a musical tinkle from the hollow sides of the +arch. Anne's anxiety now was lest he should not continue sleeping till +the search was over, but start up with his habitual imprudence, and +scorning such means of safety, rush out into their arms. + +A quarter of an hour dragged by, and then indications reached their ears +that the re-examination of the mill had begun and ended. The well-known +tramp drew nearer, and reverberated through the ground over their heads, +where its volume signified to the listeners that the party had been +largely augmented by pressed men since the night preceding. The gang +passed the arch, and the noise regularly diminished, as if no man among +them had thought of looking aside for a moment. + +Matilda broke the silence. 'I wonder if they have left a watch behind?' +she said doubtfully. + +'I will go and see,' said Anne. 'Wait till I return.' + +'No; I can do no more. When you come back I shall be gone. I ask one +thing of you. If all goes well with you and him, and he marries +you--don't be alarmed; my plans lie elsewhere--when you are his wife tell +him who helped to carry him away. But don't mention my name to the rest +of your family, either now or at any time.' + +Anne regarded the speaker for a moment, and promised; after which she +waded out from the archway. + +Matilda stood looking at Bob for a moment, as if preparing to go, till +moved by some impulse she bent and lightly kissed him once. + +'How can you!' cried Anne reproachfully. When leaving the mouth of the +arch she had bent back and seen the act. + +Matilda flushed. 'You jealous baby!' she said scornfully. + +Anne hesitated for a moment, then went out from the water, and hastened +towards the mill. + +She entered by the garden, and, seeing no one, advanced and peeped in at +the window. Her mother and Mr. Loveday were sitting within as usual. + +'Are they all gone?' said Anne softly. + +'Yes. They did not trouble us much, beyond going into every room, and +searching about the garden, where they saw steps. They have been lucky +to-night; they have caught fifteen or twenty men at places further on; so +the loss of Bob was no hurt to their feelings. I wonder where in the +world the poor fellow is!' + +'I will show you,' said Anne. And explaining in a few words what had +happened, she was promptly followed by David and Loveday along the road. +She lifted her dress and entered the arch with some anxiety on account of +Matilda; but the actress was gone, and Bob lay on the seat as she had +left him. + +Bob was brought out, and water thrown upon his face; but though he moved +he did not rouse himself until some time after he had been borne into the +house. Here he opened his eyes, and saw them standing round, and +gathered a little consciousness. + +'You are all right, my boy!' said his father. 'What hev happened to ye? +Where did ye get that terrible blow?' + +'Ah--I can mind now,' murmured Bob, with a stupefied gaze around. 'I +fell in slipping down the topsail halyard--the rope, that is, was too +short--and I fell upon my head. And then I went away. When I came back +I thought I wouldn't disturb ye: so I lay down out there, to sleep out +the watch; but the pain in my head was so great that I couldn't get to +sleep; so I picked some of the poppy-heads in the border, which I once +heard was a good thing for sending folks to sleep when they are in pain. +So I munched up all I could find, and dropped off quite nicely.' + +'I wondered who had picked 'em!' said Molly. 'I noticed they were gone.' + +'Why, you might never have woke again!' said Mrs. Loveday, holding up her +hands. 'How is your head now?' + +'I hardly know,' replied the young man, putting his hand to his forehead +and beginning to doze again. 'Where be those fellows that boarded us? +With this--smooth water and--fine breeze we ought to get away from 'em. +Haul in--the larboard braces, and--bring her to the wind.' + +'You are at home, dear Bob,' said Anne, bending over him, 'and the men +are gone.' + +'Come along upstairs: th' beest hardly awake now,' said his father and +Bob was assisted to bed. + + + + +XXXIII. A DISCOVERY TURNS THE SCALE + + +In four-and-twenty hours Bob had recovered. But though physically +himself again, he was not at all sure of his position as a patriot. He +had that practical knowledge of seamanship of which the country stood +much in need, and it was humiliating to find that impressment seemed to +be necessary to teach him to use it for her advantage. Many neighbouring +young men, less fortunate than himself, had been pressed and taken; and +their absence seemed a reproach to him. He went away by himself into the +mill-roof, and, surrounded by the corn-heaps, gave vent to +self-condemnation. + +'Certainly, I am no man to lie here so long for the pleasure of sighting +that young girl forty times a day, and letting her sight me--bless her +eyes!--till I must needs want a press-gang to teach me what I've forgot. +And is it then all over with me as a British sailor? We'll see.' + +When he was thrown under the influence of Anne's eyes again, which were +more tantalizingly beautiful than ever just now (so it seemed to him), +his intention of offering his services to the Government would wax +weaker, and he would put off his final decision till the next day. Anne +saw these fluctuations of his mind between love and patriotism, and being +terrified by what she had heard of sea-fights, used the utmost art of +which she was capable to seduce him from his forming purpose. She came +to him in the mill, wearing the very prettiest of her morning jackets--the +one that only just passed the waist, and was laced so tastefully round +the collar and bosom. Then she would appear in her new hat, with a +bouquet of primroses on one side; and on the following Sunday she walked +before him in lemon-coloured boots, so that her feet looked like a pair +of yellow-hammers flitting under her dress. + +But dress was the least of the means she adopted for chaining him down. +She talked more tenderly than ever; asked him to begin small undertakings +in the garden on her account; she sang about the house, that the place +might seem cheerful when he came in. This singing for a purpose required +great effort on her part, leaving her afterwards very sad. When Bob +asked her what was the matter, she would say, 'Nothing; only I am +thinking how you will grieve your father, and cross his purposes, if you +carry out your unkind notion of going to sea, and forsaking your place in +the mill.' + +'Yes,' Bob would say uneasily. 'It will trouble him, I know.' + +Being also quite aware how it would trouble her, he would again postpone, +and thus another week passed away. + +All this time John had not come once to the mill. It appeared as if Miss +Johnson absorbed all his time and thoughts. Bob was often seen chuckling +over the circumstance. 'A sly rascal!' he said. 'Pretending on the day +she came to be married that she was not good enough for me, when it was +only that he wanted her for himself. How he could have persuaded her to +go away is beyond me to say!' + +Anne could not contest this belief of her lover's, and remained silent; +but there had more than once occurred to her mind a doubt of its +probability. Yet she had only abandoned her opinion that John had +schemed for Matilda, to embrace the opposite error; that, finding he had +wronged the young lady, he had pitied and grown to love her. + +'And yet Jack, when he was a boy, was the simplest fellow alive,' resumed +Bob. 'By George, though, I should have been hot against him for such a +trick, if in losing her I hadn't found a better! But she'll never come +down to him in the world: she has high notions now. I am afraid he's +doomed to sigh in vain!' + +Though Bob regretted this possibility, the feeling was not reciprocated +by Anne. It was true that she knew nothing of Matilda's temporary +treachery, and that she disbelieved the story of her lack of virtue; but +she did not like the woman. 'Perhaps it will not matter if he is doomed +to sigh in vain,' she said. 'But I owe him no ill-will. I have profited +by his doings, incomprehensible as they are.' And she bent her fair eyes +on Bob and smiled. + +Bob looked dubious. 'He thinks he has affronted me, now I have seen +through him, and that I shall be against meeting him. But, of course, I +am not so touchy. I can stand a practical joke, as can any man who has +been afloat. I'll call and see him, and tell him so.' + +Before he started, Bob bethought him of something which would still +further prove to the misapprehending John that he was entirely forgiven. +He went to his room, and took from his chest a packet containing a lock +of Miss Johnson's hair, which she had given him during their brief +acquaintance, and which till now he had quite forgotten. When, at +starting, he wished Anne goodbye, it was accompanied by such a beaming +face, that she knew he was full of an idea, and asked what it might be +that pleased him so. + +'Why, this,' he said, smacking his breast-pocket. 'A lock of hair that +Matilda gave me.' + +Anne sank back with parted lips. + +'I am going to give it to Jack--he'll jump for joy to get it! And it +will show him how willing I am to give her up to him, fine piece as she +is.' + +'Will you see her to-day, Bob?' Anne asked with an uncertain smile. + +'O no--unless it is by accident.' + +On reaching the outskirts of the town he went straight to the barracks, +and was lucky enough to find John in his room, at the left-hand corner of +the quadrangle. John was glad to see him; but to Bob's surprise he +showed no immediate contrition, and thus afforded no room for the +brotherly speech of forgiveness which Bob had been going to deliver. As +the trumpet-major did not open the subject, Bob felt it desirable to +begin himself. + +'I have brought ye something that you will value, Jack,' he said, as they +sat at the window, overlooking the large square barrack-yard. 'I have +got no further use for it, and you should have had it before if it had +entered my head.' + +'Thank you, Bob; what is it?' said John, looking absently at an awkward +squad of young men who were drilling in the enclosure. + +''Tis a young woman's lock of hair.' + +'Ah!' said John, quite recovering from his abstraction, and slightly +flushing. Could Bob and Anne have quarrelled? Bob drew the paper from +his pocket, and opened it. + +'Black!' said John. + +'Yes--black enough.' + +'Whose?' + +'Why, Matilda's.' + +'O, Matilda's!' + +'Whose did you think then?' + +Instead of replying, the trumpet-major's face became as red as sunset, +and he turned to the window to hide his confusion. + +Bob was silent, and then he, too, looked into the court. At length he +arose, walked to his brother, and laid his hand upon his shoulder. +'Jack,' he said, in an altered voice, 'you are a good fellow. Now I see +it all.' + +'O no--that's nothing,' said John hastily. + +'You've been pretending that you care for this woman that I mightn't +blame myself for heaving you out from the other--which is what I've done +without knowing it.' + +'What does it matter?' + +'But it does matter! I've been making you unhappy all these weeks and +weeks through my thoughtlessness. They seemed to think at home, you +know, John, that you had grown not to care for her; or I wouldn't have +done it for all the world!' + +'You stick to her, Bob, and never mind me. She belongs to you. She +loves you. I have no claim upon her, and she thinks nothing about me.' + +'She likes you, John, thoroughly well; so does everybody; and if I hadn't +come home, putting my foot in it-- That coming home of mine has been a +regular blight upon the family! I ought never to have stayed. The sea +is my home, and why couldn't I bide there?' + +The trumpet-major drew Bob's discourse off the subject as soon as he +could, and Bob, after some unconsidered replies and remarks, seemed +willing to avoid it for the present. He did not ask John to accompany +him home, as he had intended; and on leaving the barracks turned +southward and entered the town to wander about till he could decide what +to do. + +It was the 3rd of September, but the King's watering-place still retained +its summer aspect. The royal bathing-machine had been drawn out just as +Bob reached Gloucester Buildings, and he waited a minute, in the lack of +other distraction, to look on. Immediately that the King's machine had +entered the water a group of florid men with fiddles, violoncellos, a +trombone, and a drum, came forward, packed themselves into another +machine that was in waiting, and were drawn out into the waves in the +King's rear. All that was to be heard for a few minutes were the slow +pulsations of the sea; and then a deafening noise burst from the interior +of the second machine with power enough to split the boards asunder; it +was the condensed mass of musicians inside, striking up the strains of +'God save the King,' as his Majesty's head rose from the water. Bob took +off his hat and waited till the end of the performance, which, intended +as a pleasant surprise to George III. by the loyal burghers, was possibly +in the watery circumstances tolerated rather than desired by that +dripping monarch. {303} + +Loveday then passed on to the harbour, where he remained awhile, looking +at the busy scene of loading and unloading craft and swabbing the decks +of yachts; at the boats and barges rubbing against the quay wall, and at +the houses of the merchants, some ancient structures of solid stone, +others green-shuttered with heavy wooden bow-windows which appeared as if +about to drop into the harbour by their own weight. All these things he +gazed upon, and thought of one thing--that he had caused great misery to +his brother John. + +The town clock struck, and Bob retraced his steps till he again +approached the Esplanade and Gloucester Lodge, where the morning sun +blazed in upon the house fronts, and not a spot of shade seemed to be +attainable. A huzzaing attracted his attention, and he observed that a +number of people had gathered before the King's residence, where a brown +curricle had stopped, out of which stepped a hale man in the prime of +life, wearing a blue uniform, gilt epaulettes, cocked hat, and sword, who +crossed the pavement and went in. Bob went up and joined the group. +'What's going on?' he said. + +'Captain Hardy,' replied a bystander. + +'What of him?' + +'Just gone in--waiting to see the King.' + +'But the captain is in the West Indies?' + +'No. The fleet is come home; they can't find the French anywhere.' + +'Will they go and look for them again?' asked Bob. + +'O yes. Nelson is determined to find 'em. As soon as he's refitted +he'll put to sea again. Ah, here's the King coming in.' + +Bob was so interested in what he had just heard that he scarcely noticed +the arrival of the King, and a body of attendant gentlemen. He went on +thinking of his new knowledge; Captain Hardy was come. He was doubtless +staying with his family at their small manor-house at Pos'ham, a few +miles from Overcombe, where he usually spent the intervals between his +different cruises. + +Loveday returned to the mill without further delay; and shortly +explaining that John was very well, and would come soon, went on to talk +of the arrival of Nelson's captain. + +'And is he come at last?' said the miller, throwing his thoughts years +backward. 'Well can I mind when he first left home to go on board the +Helena as midshipman!' + +'That's not much to remember. I can remember it too,' said Mrs. Loveday. + +''Tis more than twenty years ago anyhow. And more than that, I can mind +when he was born; I was a lad, serving my 'prenticeship at the time. He +has been in this house often and often when 'a was young. When he came +home after his first voyage he stayed about here a long time, and used to +look in at the mill whenever he went past. "What will you be next, sir?" +said mother to him one day as he stood with his back to the doorpost. "A +lieutenant, Dame Loveday," says he. "And what next?" says she. "A +commander." "And next?" "Next, post-captain." "And then?" "Then it +will be almost time to die." I'd warrant that he'd mind it to this very +day if you were to ask him.' + +Bob heard all this with a manner of preoccupation, and soon retired to +the mill. Thence he went to his room by the back passage, and taking his +old seafaring garments from a dark closet in the wall conveyed them to +the loft at the top of the mill, where he occupied the remaining spare +moments of the day in brushing the mildew from their folds, and hanging +each article by the window to get aired. In the evening he returned to +the loft, and dressing himself in the old salt suit, went out of the +house unobserved by anybody, and ascended the road towards Captain +Hardy's native village and present temporary home. + +The shadeless downs were now brown with the droughts of the passing +summer, and few living things met his view, the natural rotundity of the +elevation being only occasionally disturbed by the presence of a barrow, +a thorn-bush, or a piece of dry wall which remained from some attempted +enclosure. By the time that he reached the village it was dark, and the +larger stars had begun to shine when he walked up to the door of the old- +fashioned house which was the family residence of this branch of the +South-Wessex Hardys. + +'Will the captain allow me to wait on him to-night?' inquired Loveday, +explaining who and what he was. + +The servant went away for a few minutes, and then told Bob that he might +see the captain in the morning. + +'If that's the case, I'll come again,' replied Bob, quite cheerful that +failure was not absolute. + +He had left the door but a few steps when he was called back and asked if +he had walked all the way from Overcombe Mill on purpose. + +Loveday replied modestly that he had done so. + +'Then will you come in?' He followed the speaker into a small study or +office, and in a minute or two Captain Hardy entered. + +The captain at this time was a bachelor of thirty-five, rather stout in +build, with light eyes, bushy eyebrows, a square broad face, plenty of +chin, and a mouth whose corners played between humour and grimness. He +surveyed Loveday from top to toe. + +'Robert Loveday, sir, son of the miller at Overcombe,' said Bob, making a +low bow. + +'Ah! I remember your father, Loveday,' the gallant seaman replied. +'Well, what do you want to say to me?' Seeing that Bob found it rather +difficult to begin, he leant leisurely against the mantelpiece, and went +on, 'Is your father well and hearty? I have not seen him for many, many +years.' + +'Quite well, thank 'ee.' + +'You used to have a brother in the army, I think? What was his +name--John? A very fine fellow, if I recollect.' + +'Yes, cap'n; he's there still.' + +'And you are in the merchant-service?' + +'Late first mate of the brig Pewit.' + +'How is it you're not on board a man-of-war?' + +'Ay, sir, that's the thing I've come about,' said Bob, recovering +confidence. 'I should have been, but 'tis womankind has hampered me. +I've waited and waited on at home because of a young woman--lady, I might +have said, for she's sprung from a higher class of society than I. Her +father was a landscape painter--maybe you've heard of him, sir? The name +is Garland.' + +'He painted that view of our village here,' said Captain Hardy, looking +towards a dark little picture in the corner of the room. + +Bob looked, and went on, as if to the picture, 'Well, sir, I have found +that-- However, the press-gang came a week or two ago, and didn't get +hold of me. I didn't care to go aboard as a pressed man.' + +'There has been a severe impressment. It is of course a disagreeable +necessity, but it can't be helped.' + +'Since then, sir, something has happened that makes me wish they had +found me, and I have come to-night to ask if I could enter on board your +ship the Victory.' + +The captain shook his head severely, and presently observed: 'I am glad +to find that you think of entering the service, Loveday; smart men are +badly wanted. But it will not be in your power to choose your ship.' + +'Well, well, sir; then I must take my chance elsewhere,' said Bob, his +face indicating the disappointment he would not fully express. ''Twas +only that I felt I would much rather serve under you than anybody else, +my father and all of us being known to ye, Captain Hardy, and our +families belonging to the same parts.' + +Captain Hardy took Bob's altitude more carefully. 'Are you a good +practical seaman?' he asked musingly. + +'Ay, sir; I believe I am.' + +'Active? Fond of skylarking?' + +'Well, I don't know about the last. I think I can say I am active +enough. I could walk the yard-arm, if required, cross from mast to mast +by the stays, and do what most fellows do who call themselves spry.' + +The captain then put some questions about the details of navigation, +which Loveday, having luckily been used to square rigs, answered +satisfactorily. 'As to reefing topsails,' he added, 'if I don't do it +like a flash of lightning, I can do it so that they will stand blowing +weather. The Pewit was not a dull vessel, and when we were convoyed home +from Lisbon, she could keep well in sight of the frigate scudding at a +distance, by putting on full sail. We had enough hands aboard to reef +topsails man-o'-war fashion, which is a rare thing in these days, sir, +now that able seamen are so scarce on trading craft. And I hear that men +from square-rigged vessels are liked much the best in the navy, as being +more ready for use? So that I shouldn't be altogether so raw,' said Bob +earnestly, 'if I could enter on your ship, sir. Still, if I can't, I +can't.' + +'I might ask for you, Loveday,' said the captain thoughtfully, 'and so +get you there that way. In short, I think I may say I will ask for you. +So consider it settled.' + +'My thanks to you, sir,' said Loveday. + +'You are aware that the Victory is a smart ship, and that cleanliness and +order are, of necessity, more strictly insisted upon there than in some +others?' + +'Sir, I quite see it.' + +'Well, I hope you will do your duty as well on a line-of-battle ship as +you did when mate of the brig, for it is a duty that may be serious.' + +Bob replied that it should be his one endeavour; and receiving a few +instructions for getting on board the guard-ship, and being conveyed to +Portsmouth, he turned to go away. + +'You'll have a stiff walk before you fetch Overcombe Mill this dark +night, Loveday,' concluded the captain, peering out of the window. 'I'll +send you in a glass of grog to help 'ee on your way.' + +The captain then left Bob to himself, and when he had drunk the grog that +was brought in he started homeward, with a heart not exactly light, but +large with a patriotic cheerfulness, which had not diminished when, after +walking so fast in his excitement as to be beaded with perspiration, he +entered his father's door. + +They were all sitting up for him, and at his approach anxiously raised +their sleepy eyes, for it was nearly eleven o'clock. + +'There; I knew he'd not be much longer!' cried Anne, jumping up and +laughing, in her relief. 'They have been thinking you were very strange +and silent to-day, Bob; you were not, were you?' + +'What's the matter, Bob?' said the miller; for Bob's countenance was +sublimed by his recent interview, like that of a priest just come from +the penetralia of the temple. + +'He's in his mate's clothes, just as when he came home!' observed Mrs. +Loveday. + +They all saw now that he had something to tell. 'I am going away,' he +said when he had sat down. 'I am going to enter on board a man-of-war, +and perhaps it will be the Victory.' + +'Going?' said Anne faintly. + +'Now, don't you mind it, there's a dear,' he went on solemnly, taking her +hand in his own. 'And you, father, don't you begin to take it to heart' +(the miller was looking grave). 'The press-gang has been here, and +though I showed them that I was a free man, I am going to show everybody +that I can do my duty.' + +Neither of the other three answered, Anne and the miller having their +eyes bent upon the ground, and the former trying to repress her tears. + +'Now don't you grieve, either of you,' he continued; 'nor vex yourselves +that this has happened. Please not to be angry with me, father, for +deserting you and the mill, where you want me, for I _must go_. For +these three years we and the rest of the country have been in fear of the +enemy; trade has been hindered; poor folk made hungry; and many rich folk +made poor. There must be a deliverance, and it must be done by sea. I +have seen Captain Hardy, and I shall serve under him if so be I can.' + +'Captain Hardy?' + +'Yes. I have been to his house at Pos'ham, where he's staying with his +sisters; walked there and back, and I wouldn't have missed it for fifty +guineas. I hardly thought he would see me; but he did see me. And he +hasn't forgot you.' + +Bob then opened his tale in order, relating graphically the conversation +to which he had been a party, and they listened with breathless +attention. + +'Well, if you must go, you must,' said the miller with emotion; 'but I +think it somewhat hard that, of my two sons, neither one of 'em can be +got to stay and help me in my business as I get old.' + +'Don't trouble and vex about it,' said Mrs. Loveday soothingly. 'They +are both instruments in the hands of Providence, chosen to chastise that +Corsican ogre, and do what they can for the country in these trying +years.' + +'That's just the shape of it, Mrs. Loveday,' said Bob. + +'And he'll come back soon,' she continued, turning to Anne. 'And then +he'll tell us all he has seen, and the glory that he's won, and how he +has helped to sweep that scourge Buonaparty off the earth.' + +'When be you going, Bob?' his father inquired. + +'To-morrow, if I can. I shall call at the barracks and tell John as I go +by. When I get to Portsmouth--' + +A burst of sobs in quick succession interrupted his words; they came from +Anne, who till that moment had been sitting as before with her hand in +that of Bob, and apparently quite calm. Mrs. Loveday jumped up, but +before she could say anything to soothe the agitated girl she had calmed +herself with the same singular suddenness that had marked her giving way. +'I don't mind Bob's going,' she said. 'I think he ought to go. Don't +suppose, Bob, that I want you to stay!' + +After this she left the apartment, and went into the little side room +where she and her mother usually worked. In a few moments Bob followed +her. When he came back he was in a very sad and emotional mood. Anybody +could see that there had been a parting of profound anguish to both. + +'She is not coming back to-night,' he said. + +'You will see her to-morrow before you go?' said her mother. + +'I may or I may not,' he replied. 'Father and Mrs. Loveday, do you go to +bed now. I have got to look over my things and get ready; and it will +take me some little time. If you should hear noises you will know it is +only myself moving about.' + +When Bob was left alone he suddenly became brisk, and set himself to +overhaul his clothes and other possessions in a business-like manner. By +the time that his chest was packed, such things as he meant to leave at +home folded into cupboards, and what was useless destroyed, it was past +two o'clock. Then he went to bed, so softly that only the creak of one +weak stair revealed his passage upward. At the moment that he passed +Anne's chamber-door her mother was bending over her as she lay in bed, +and saying to her, 'Won't you see him in the morning?' + +'No, no,' said Anne. 'I would rather not see him! I have said that I +may. But I shall not. I cannot see him again!' + +When the family got up next day Bob had vanished. It was his way to +disappear like this, to avoid affecting scenes at parting. By the time +that they had sat down to a gloomy breakfast, Bob was in the boat of a +Budmouth waterman, who pulled him alongside the guardship in the roads, +where he laid hold of the man-rope, mounted, and disappeared from +external view. In the course of the day the ship moved off, set her +royals, and made sail for Portsmouth, with five hundred new hands for the +service on board, consisting partly of pressed men and partly of +volunteers, among the latter being Robert Loveday. + + + + +XXXIV. A SPECK ON THE SEA + + +In parting from John, who accompanied him to the quay, Bob had said: +'Now, Jack, these be my last words to you: I give her up. I go away on +purpose, and I shall be away a long time. If in that time she should +list over towards ye ever so little, mind you take her. You have more +right to her than I. You chose her when my mind was elsewhere, and you +best deserve her; for I have never known you forget one woman, while I've +forgot a dozen. Take her then, if she will come, and God bless both of +ye.' + +Another person besides John saw Bob go. That was Derriman, who was +standing by a bollard a little further up the quay. He did not repress +his satisfaction at the sight. John looked towards him with an open gaze +of contempt; for the cuffs administered to the yeoman at the inn had not, +so far as the trumpet-major was aware, produced any desire to avenge that +insult, John being, of course, quite ignorant that Festus had erroneously +retaliated upon Bob, in his peculiar though scarcely soldierly way. +Finding that he did not even now approach him, John went on his way, and +thought over his intention of preserving intact the love between Anne and +his brother. + +He was surprised when he next went to the mill to find how glad they all +were to see him. From the moment of Bob's return to the bosom of the +deep Anne had had no existence on land; people might have looked at her +human body and said she had flitted thence. The sea and all that +belonged to the sea was her daily thought and her nightly dream. She had +the whole two-and-thirty winds under her eye, each passing gale that +ushered in returning autumn being mentally registered; and she acquired a +precise knowledge of the direction in which Portsmouth, Brest, Ferrol, +Cadiz, and other such likely places lay. Instead of saying her own +familiar prayers at night she substituted, with some confusion of +thought, the Forms of Prayer to be used at sea. John at once noticed her +lorn, abstracted looks, pitied her,--how much he pitied her!--and asked +when they were alone if there was anything he could do. + +'There are two things,' she said, with almost childish eagerness in her +tired eyes. + +'They shall be done.' + +'The first is to find out if Captain Hardy has gone back to his ship; and +the other is--O if you will do it, John!--to get me newspapers whenever +possible.' + +After this duologue John was absent for a space of three hours, and they +thought he had gone back to barracks. He entered, however, at the end of +that time, took off his forage-cap, and wiped his forehead. + +'You look tired, John,' said his father. + +'O no.' He went through the house till he had found Anne Garland. + +'I have only done one of those things,' he said to her. + +'What, already! I didn't hope for or mean to-day.' + +'Captain Hardy is gone from Pos'ham. He left some days ago. We shall +soon hear that the fleet has sailed.' + +'You have been all the way to Pos'ham on purpose? How good of you!' + +'Well, I was anxious to know myself when Bob is likely to leave. I +expect now that we shall soon hear from him.' + +Two days later he came again. He brought a newspaper, and what was +better, a letter for Anne, franked by the first lieutenant of the +Victory. + +'Then he's aboard her,' said Anne, as she eagerly took the letter. + +It was short, but as much as she could expect in the circumstances, and +informed them that the captain had been as good as his word, and had +gratified Bob's earnest wish to serve under him. The ship, with Admiral +Lord Nelson on board, and accompanied by the frigate Euryalus, was to +sail in two days for Plymouth, where they would be joined by others, and +thence proceed to the coast of Spain. + +Anne lay awake that night thinking of the Victory, and of those who +floated in her. To the best of Anne's calculation that ship of war +would, during the next twenty-four hours, pass within a few miles of +where she herself then lay. Next to seeing Bob, the thing that would +give her more pleasure than any other in the world was to see the vessel +that contained him--his floating city, his sole dependence in battle and +storm--upon whose safety from winds and enemies hung all her hope. + +The morrow was market-day at the seaport, and in this she saw her +opportunity. A carrier went from Overcombe at six o'clock thither, and +having to do a little shopping for herself she gave it as a reason for +her intended day's absence, and took a place in the van. When she +reached the town it was still early morning, but the borough was already +in the zenith of its daily bustle and show. The King was always out-of- +doors by six o'clock, and such cock-crow hours at Gloucester Lodge +produced an equally forward stir among the population. She alighted, and +passed down the esplanade, as fully thronged by persons of fashion at +this time of mist and level sunlight as a watering-place in the present +day is at four in the afternoon. Dashing bucks and beaux in cocked hats, +black feathers, ruffles, and frills, stared at her as she hurried along; +the beach was swarming with bathing women, wearing waistbands that bore +the national refrain, 'God save the King,' in gilt letters; the shops +were all open, and Sergeant Stanner, with his sword-stuck bank-notes and +heroic gaze, was beating up at two guineas and a crown, the crown to +drink his Majesty's health. + +She soon finished her shopping, and then, crossing over into the old +town, pursued her way along the coast-road to Portland. At the end of an +hour she had been rowed across the Fleet (which then lacked the +convenience of a bridge), and reached the base of Portland Hill. The +steep incline before her was dotted with houses, showing the pleasant +peculiarity of one man's doorstep being behind his neighbour's chimney, +and slabs of stone as the common material for walls, roof, floor, pig- +sty, stable-manger, door-scraper, and garden-stile. Anne gained the +summit, and followed along the central track over the huge lump of +freestone which forms the peninsula, the wide sea prospect extending as +she went on. Weary with her journey, she approached the extreme +southerly peak of rock, and gazed from the cliff at Portland Bill, or +Beal, as it was in those days more correctly called. + +The wild, herbless, weather-worn promontory was quite a solitude, and, +saving the one old lighthouse about fifty yards up the slope, scarce a +mark was visible to show that humanity had ever been near the spot. Anne +found herself a seat on a stone, and swept with her eyes the tremulous +expanse of water around her that seemed to utter a ceaseless +unintelligible incantation. Out of the three hundred and sixty degrees +of her complete horizon two hundred and fifty were covered by waves, the +coup d'oeil including the area of troubled waters known as the Race, +where two seas met to effect the destruction of such vessels as could not +be mastered by one. She counted the craft within her view: there were +five; no, there were only four; no, there were seven, some of the specks +having resolved themselves into two. They were all small coasters, and +kept well within sight of land. + +Anne sank into a reverie. Then she heard a slight noise on her left +hand, and turning beheld an old sailor, who had approached with a glass. +He was levelling it over the sea in a direction to the south-east, and +somewhat removed from that in which her own eyes had been wandering. Anne +moved a few steps thitherward, so as to unclose to her view a deeper +sweep on that side, and by this discovered a ship of far larger size than +any which had yet dotted the main before her. Its sails were for the +most part new and clean, and in comparison with its rapid progress before +the wind the small brigs and ketches seemed standing still. Upon this +striking object the old man's glass was bent. + +'What do you see, sailor?' she asked. + +'Almost nothing,' he answered. 'My sight is so gone off lately that +things, one and all, be but a November mist to me. And yet I fain would +see to-day. I am looking for the Victory.' + +'Why,' she said quickly. + +'I have a son aboard her. He's one of three from these parts. There's +the captain, there's my son Ned, and there's young Loveday of +Overcombe--he that lately joined.' + +'Shall I look for you?' said Anne, after a pause. + +'Certainly, mis'ess, if so be you please.' + +Anne took the glass, and he supported it by his arm. 'It is a large +ship,' she said, 'with three masts, three rows of guns along the side, +and all her sails set.' + +'I guessed as much.' + +'There is a little flag in front--over her bowsprit.' + +'The jack.' + +'And there's a large one flying at her stern.' + +'The ensign.' + +'And a white one on her fore-topmast.' + +'That's the admiral's flag, the flag of my Lord Nelson. What is her +figure-head, my dear?' + +'A coat-of-arms, supported on this side by a sailor.' + +Her companion nodded with satisfaction. 'On the other side of that +figure-head is a marine.' + +'She is twisting round in a curious way, and her sails sink in like old +cheeks, and she shivers like a leaf upon a tree.' + +'She is in stays, for the larboard tack. I can see what she's been +doing. She's been re'ching close in to avoid the flood tide, as the wind +is to the sou'-west, and she's bound down; but as soon as the ebb made, +d'ye see, they made sail to the west'ard. Captain Hardy may be depended +upon for that; he knows every current about here, being a native.' + +'And now I can see the other side; it is a soldier where a sailor was +before. You are _sure_ it is the Victory?' + +'I am sure.' + +After this a frigate came into view--the Euryalus--sailing in the same +direction. Anne sat down, and her eyes never left the ships. 'Tell me +more about the Victory,' she said. + +'She is the best sailer in the service, and she carries a hundred guns. +The heaviest be on the lower deck, the next size on the middle deck, the +next on the main and upper decks. My son Ned's place is on the lower +deck, because he's short, and they put the short men below.' + +Bob, though not tall, was not likely to be specially selected for +shortness. She pictured him on the upper deck, in his snow-white +trousers and jacket of navy blue, looking perhaps towards the very point +of land where she then was. + +The great silent ship, with her population of blue-jackets, marines, +officers, captain, and the admiral who was not to return alive, passed +like a phantom the meridian of the Bill. Sometimes her aspect was that +of a large white bat, sometimes that of a grey one. In the course of +time the watching girl saw that the ship had passed her nearest point; +the breadth of her sails diminished by foreshortening, till she assumed +the form of an egg on end. After this something seemed to twinkle, and +Anne, who had previously withdrawn from the old sailor, went back to him, +and looked again through the glass. The twinkling was the light falling +upon the cabin windows of the ship's stern. She explained it to the old +man. + +'Then we see now what the enemy have seen but once. That was in seventy- +nine, when she sighted the French and Spanish fleet off Scilly, and she +retreated because she feared a landing. Well, 'tis a brave ship and she +carries brave men!' + +Anne's tender bosom heaved, but she said nothing, and again became +absorbed in contemplation. + +The Victory was fast dropping away. She was on the horizon, and soon +appeared hull down. That seemed to be like the beginning of a greater +end than her present vanishing. Anne Garland could not stay by the +sailor any longer, and went about a stone's-throw off, where she was +hidden by the inequality of the cliff from his view. The vessel was now +exactly end on, and stood out in the direction of the Start, her width +having contracted to the proportion of a feather. She sat down again, +and mechanically took out some biscuits that she had brought, foreseeing +that her waiting might be long. But she could not eat one of them; +eating seemed to jar with the mental tenseness of the moment; and her +undeviating gaze continued to follow the lessened ship with the fidelity +of a balanced needle to a magnetic stone, all else in her being +motionless. + +The courses of the Victory were absorbed into the main, then her topsails +went, and then her top-gallants. She was now no more than a dead fly's +wing on a sheet of spider's web; and even this fragment diminished. Anne +could hardly bear to see the end, and yet she resolved not to flinch. The +admiral's flag sank behind the watery line, and in a minute the very +truck of the last topmast stole away. The Victory was gone. + +Anne's lip quivered as she murmured, without removing her wet eyes from +the vacant and solemn horizon, '"They that go down to the sea in ships, +that do business in great waters--"' + +'"These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep,"' was +returned by a man's voice from behind her. + +Looking round quickly, she saw a soldier standing there; and the grave +eyes of John Loveday bent on her. + +''Tis what I was thinking,' she said, trying to be composed. + +'You were saying it,' he answered gently. + +'Was I?--I did not know it. . . . How came you here?' she presently +added. + +'I have been behind you a good while; but you never turned round.' + +'I was deeply occupied,' she said in an undertone. + +'Yes--I too came to see him pass. I heard this morning that Lord Nelson +had embarked, and I knew at once that they would sail immediately. The +Victory and Euryalus are to join the rest of the fleet at Plymouth. There +was a great crowd of people assembled to see the admiral off; they +cheered him and the ship as she dropped down. He took his coffin on +board with him, they say.' + +'His coffin!' said Anne, turning deadly pale. 'Something terrible, then, +is meant by that! O, why _would_ Bob go in that ship? doomed to +destruction from the very beginning like this!' + +'It was his determination to sail under Captain Hardy, and under no one +else,' said John. 'There may be hot work; but we must hope for the +best.' And observing how wretched she looked, he added, 'But won't you +let me help you back? If you can walk as far as Hope Cove it will be +enough. A lerret is going from there across the bay homeward to the +harbour in the course of an hour; it belongs to a man I know, and they +can take one passenger, I am sure.' + +She turned her back upon the Channel, and by his help soon reached the +place indicated. The boat was lying there as he had said. She found it +to belong to the old man who had been with her at the Bill, and was in +charge of his two younger sons. The trumpet-major helped her into it +over the slippery blocks of stone, one of the young men spread his jacket +for her to sit on, and as soon as they pulled from shore John climbed up +the blue-grey cliff, and disappeared over the top, to return to the +mainland by road. + +Anne was in the town by three o'clock. The trip in the stern of the +lerret had quite refreshed her, with the help of the biscuits, which she +had at last been able to eat. The van from the port to Overcombe did not +start till four o'clock, and feeling no further interest in the gaieties +of the place, she strolled on past the King's house to the outskirts, her +mind settling down again upon the possibly sad fate of the Victory when +she found herself alone. She did not hurry on; and finding that even now +there wanted another half-hour to the carrier's time, she turned into a +little lane to escape the inspection of the numerous passers-by. Here +all was quite lonely and still, and she sat down under a willow-tree, +absently regarding the landscape, which had begun to put on the rich +tones of declining summer, but which to her was as hollow and faded as a +theatre by day. She could hold out no longer; burying her face in her +hands, she wept without restraint. + +Some yards behind her was a little spring of water, having a stone margin +round it to prevent the cattle from treading in the sides and filling it +up with dirt. While she wept, two elderly gentlemen entered unperceived +upon the scene, and walked on to the spring's brink. Here they paused +and looked in, afterwards moving round it, and then stooping as if to +smell or taste its waters. The spring was, in fact, a sulphurous one, +then recently discovered by a physician who lived in the neighbourhood; +and it was beginning to attract some attention, having by common report +contributed to effect such wonderful cures as almost passed belief. After +a considerable discussion, apparently on how the pool might be improved +for better use, one of the two elderly gentlemen turned away, leaving the +other still probing the spring with his cane. The first stranger, who +wore a blue coat with gilt buttons, came on in the direction of Anne +Garland, and seeing her sad posture went quickly up to her, and said +abruptly, 'What is the matter?' + +Anne, who in her grief had observed nothing of the gentlemen's presence, +withdrew her handkerchief from her eyes and started to her feet. She +instantly recognised her interrogator as the King. + +'What, what, crying?' his Majesty inquired kindly. 'How is this!' + +'I--have seen a dear friend go away, sir,' she faltered, with downcast +eyes. + +'Ah--partings are sad--very sad--for us all. You must hope your friend +will return soon. Where is he or she gone?' + +'I don't know, your Majesty.' + +'Don't know--how is that?' + +'He is a sailor on board the Victory.' + +'Then he has reason to be proud,' said the King with interest. 'He is +your brother?' + +Anne tried to explain what he was, but could not, and blushed with +painful heat. + +'Well, well, well; what is his name?' + +In spite of Anne's confusion and low spirits, her womanly shrewdness told +her at once that no harm could be done by revealing Bob's name; and she +answered, 'His name is Robert Loveday, sir.' + +'Loveday--a good name. I shall not forget it. Now dry your cheeks, and +don't cry any more. Loveday--Robert Loveday.' + +Anne curtseyed, the King smiled good-humouredly, and turned to rejoin his +companion, who was afterwards heard to be Dr. ---, the physician in +attendance at Gloucester Lodge. This gentleman had in the meantime +filled a small phial with the medicinal water, which he carefully placed +in his pocket; and on the King coming up they retired together and +disappeared. Thereupon Anne, now thoroughly aroused, followed the same +way with a gingerly tread, just in time to see them get into a carriage +which was in waiting at the turning of the lane. + +She quite forgot the carrier, and everything else in connexion with +riding home. Flying along the road rapidly and unconsciously, when she +awoke to a sense of her whereabouts she was so near to Overcombe as to +make the carrier not worth waiting for. She had been borne up in this +hasty spurt at the end of a weary day by visions of Bob promoted to the +rank of admiral, or something equally wonderful, by the King's special +command, the chief result of the promotion being, in her arrangement of +the piece, that he would stay at home and go to sea no more. But she was +not a girl who indulged in extravagant fancies long, and before she +reached home she thought that the King had probably forgotten her by that +time, and her troubles, and her lover's name. + + + + +XXXV. A SAILOR ENTERS + + +The remaining fortnight of the month of September passed away, with a +general decline from the summer's excitements. The royal family left the +watering-place the first week in October, the German Legion with their +artillery about the same time. The dragoons still remained at the +barracks just out of the town, and John Loveday brought to Anne every +newspaper that he could lay hands on, especially such as contained any +fragment of shipping news. This threw them much together; and at these +times John was often awkward and confused, on account of the unwonted +stress of concealing his great love for her. + +Her interests had grandly developed from the limits of Overcombe and the +town life hard by, to an extensiveness truly European. During the whole +month of October, however, not a single grain of information reached her, +or anybody else, concerning Nelson and his blockading squadron off Cadiz. +There were the customary bad jokes about Buonaparte, especially when it +was found that the whole French army had turned its back upon Boulogne +and set out for the Rhine. Then came accounts of his march through +Germany and into Austria; but not a word about the Victory. + +At the beginning of autumn John brought news which fearfully depressed +her. The Austrian General Mack had capitulated with his whole army. Then +were revived the old misgivings as to invasion. 'Instead of having to +cope with him weary with waiting, we shall have to encounter This Man +fresh from the fields of victory,' ran the newspaper article. + +But the week which had led off with such a dreary piping was to end in +another key. On the very day when Mack's army was piling arms at the +feet of its conqueror, a blow had been struck by Bob Loveday and his +comrades which eternally shattered the enemy's force by sea. Four days +after the receipt of the Austrian news Corporal Tullidge ran into the +miller's house to inform him that on the previous Monday, at eleven in +the morning, the Pickle schooner, Lieutenant Lapenotiere, had arrived at +Falmouth with despatches from the fleet; that the stage-coaches on the +highway through Wessex to London were chalked with the words 'Great +Victory!' 'Glorious Triumph!' and so on; and that all the country people +were wild to know particulars. + +On Friday afternoon John arrived with authentic news of the battle off +Cape Trafalgar, and the death of Nelson. Captain Hardy was alive, though +his escape had been narrow enough, his shoe-buckle having been carried +away by a shot. It was feared that the Victory had been the scene of the +heaviest slaughter among all the ships engaged, but as yet no returns of +killed and wounded had been issued, beyond a rough list of the numbers in +some of the ships. + +The suspense of the little household in Overcombe Mill was great in the +extreme. John came thither daily for more than a week; but no further +particulars reached England till the end of that time, and then only the +meagre intelligence that there had been a gale immediately after the +battle, and that many of the prizes had been lost. Anne said little to +all these things, and preserved a superstratum of calmness on her +countenance; but some inner voice seemed to whisper to her that Bob was +no more. Miller Loveday drove to Pos'ham several times to learn if the +Captain's sisters had received any more definite tidings than these +flying reports; but that family had heard nothing which could in any way +relieve the miller's anxiety. When at last, at the end of November, +there appeared a final and revised list of killed and wounded as issued +by Admiral Collingwood, it was a useless sheet to the Lovedays. To their +great pain it contained no names but those of officers, the friends of +ordinary seamen and marines being in those good old days left to discover +their losses as best they might. + +Anne's conviction of her loss increased with the darkening of the early +winter time. Bob was not a cautious man who would avoid needless +exposure, and a hundred and fifty of the Victory's crew had been disabled +or slain. Anybody who had looked into her room at this time would have +seen that her favourite reading was the office for the Burial of the Dead +at Sea, beginning 'We therefore commit his body to the deep.' In these +first days of December several of the victorious fleet came into port; +but not the Victory. Many supposed that that noble ship, disabled by the +battle, had gone to the bottom in the subsequent tempestuous weather; and +the belief was persevered in till it was told in the town and port that +she had been seen passing up the Channel. Two days later the Victory +arrived at Portsmouth. + +Then letters from survivors began to appear in the public prints which +John so regularly brought to Anne; but though he watched the mails with +unceasing vigilance there was never a letter from Bob. It sometimes +crossed John's mind that his brother might still be alive and well, and +that in his wish to abide by his expressed intention of giving up Anne +and home life he was deliberately lax in writing. If so, Bob was +carrying out the idea too thoughtlessly by half, as could be seen by +watching the effects of suspense upon the fair face of the victim, and +the anxiety of the rest of the family. + +It was a clear day in December. The first slight snow of the season had +been sifted over the earth, and one side of the apple-tree branches in +the miller's garden was touched with white, though a few leaves were +still lingering on the tops of the younger trees. A short sailor of the +Royal Navy, who was not Bob, nor anything like him, crossed the mill +court and came to the door. The miller hastened out and brought him into +the room, where John, Mrs. Loveday, and Anne Garland were all present. + +'I'm from aboard the Victory,' said the sailor. 'My name's Jim Cornick. +And your lad is alive and well.' + +They breathed rather than spoke their thankfulness and relief, the +miller's eyes being moist as he turned aside to calm himself; while Anne, +having first jumped up wildly from her seat, sank back again under the +almost insupportable joy that trembled through her limbs to her utmost +finger. + +'I've come from Spithead to Pos'ham,' the sailor continued, 'and now I am +going on to father at Budmouth.' + +'Ah!--I know your father,' cried the trumpet-major, 'old James Cornick.' + +It was the man who had brought Anne in his lerret from Portland Bill. + +'And Bob hasn't got a scratch?' said the miller. + +'Not a scratch,' said Cornick. + +Loveday then bustled off to draw the visitor something to drink. Anne +Garland, with a glowing blush on her face, had gone to the back part of +the room, where she was the very embodiment of sweet content as she +slightly swayed herself without speaking. A little tide of happiness +seemed to ebb and flow through her in listening to the sailor's words, +moving her figure with it. The seaman and John went on conversing. + +'Bob had a good deal to do with barricading the hawse-holes afore we were +in action, and the Adm'l and Cap'n both were very much pleased at how +'twas done. When the Adm'l went up the quarter-deck ladder, Cap'n Hardy +said a word or two to Bob, but what it was I don't know, for I was +quartered at a gun some ways off. However, Bob saw the Adm'l stagger +when 'a was wownded, and was one of the men who carried him to the +cockpit. After that he and some other lads jumped aboard the French +ship, and I believe they was in her when she struck her flag. What 'a +did next I can't say, for the wind had dropped, and the smoke was like a +cloud. But 'a got a good deal talked about; and they say there's +promotion in store for'n.' + +At this point in the story Jim Cornick stopped to drink, and a low +unconscious humming came from Anne in her distant corner; the faint +melody continued more or less when the conversation between the sailor +and the Lovedays was renewed. + +'We heard afore that the Victory was near knocked to pieces,' said the +miller. + +'Knocked to pieces? You'd say so if so be you could see her! Gad, her +sides be battered like an old penny piece; the shot be still sticking in +her wales, and her sails be like so many clap-nets: we have run all the +way home under jury topmasts; and as for her decks, you may swab wi' hot +water, and you may swab wi' cold, but there's the blood-stains, and there +they'll bide. . . . The Cap'n had a narrow escape, like many o' the +rest--a shot shaved his ankle like a razor. You should have seen that +man's face in the het o' battle, his features were as if they'd been cast +in steel.' + +'We rather expected a letter from Bob before this.' + +'Well,' said Jim Cornick, with a smile of toleration, 'you must make +allowances. The truth o't is, he's engaged just now at Portsmouth, like +a good many of the rest from our ship. . . . 'Tis a very nice young +woman that he's a courting of, and I make no doubt that she'll be an +excellent wife for him.' + +'Ah!' said Mrs. Loveday, in a warning tone. + +'Courting--wife?' said the miller. + +They instinctively looked towards Anne. Anne had started as if shaken by +an invisible hand, and a thick mist of doubt seemed to obscure the +intelligence of her eyes. This was but for two or three moments. Very +pale, she arose and went right up to the seaman. John gently tried to +intercept her, but she passed him by. + +'Do you speak of Robert Loveday as courting a wife?' she asked, without +the least betrayal of emotion. + +'I didn't see you, miss,' replied Cornick, turning. 'Yes, your brother +hev' his eye on a wife, and he deserves one. I hope you don't mind?' + +'Not in the least,' she said, with a stage laugh. 'I am interested, +naturally. And what is she?' + +'A very nice young master-baker's daughter, honey. A very wise choice of +the young man's.' + +'Is she fair or dark?' + +'Her hair is rather light.' + +'I like light hair; and her name?' + +'Her name is Caroline. But can it be that my story hurts ye? If so--' + +'Yes, yes,' said John, interposing anxiously. 'We don't care for more +just at this moment.' + +'We _do_ care for more!' said Anne vehemently. 'Tell it all, sailor. +That is a very pretty name, Caroline. When are they going to be +married?' + +'I don't know as how the day is settled,' answered Jim, even now scarcely +conscious of the devastation he was causing in one fair breast. 'But +from the rate the courting is scudding along at, I should say it won't be +long first.' + +'If you see him when you go back, give him my best wishes,' she lightly +said, as she moved away. 'And,' she added, with solemn bitterness, 'say +that I am glad to hear he is making such good use of the first days of +his escape from the Valley of the Shadow of Death!' She went away, +expressing indifference by audibly singing in the distance-- + + 'Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round, + Shall we go dance the round?' + +'Your sister is lively at the news,' observed Jim Cornick. + +'Yes,' murmured John gloomily, as he gnawed his lower lip and kept his +eyes fixed on the fire. + +'Well,' continued the man from the Victory, 'I won't say that your +brother's intended ha'n't got some ballast, which is very lucky for'n, as +he might have picked up with a girl without a single copper nail. To be +sure there was a time we had when we got into port! It was open house +for us all!' And after mentally regarding the scene for a few seconds +Jim emptied his cup and rose to go. + +The miller was saying some last words to him outside the house, Anne's +voice had hardly ceased singing upstairs, John was standing by the +fireplace, and Mrs. Loveday was crossing the room to join her daughter, +whose manner had given her some uneasiness, when a noise came from above +the ceiling, as of some heavy body falling. Mrs. Loveday rushed to the +staircase, saying, 'Ah, I feared something!' and she was followed by +John. + +When they entered Anne's room, which they both did almost at one moment, +they found her lying insensible upon the floor. The trumpet-major, his +lips tightly closed, lifted her in his arms, and laid her upon the bed; +after which he went back to the door to give room to her mother, who was +bending over the girl with some hartshorn. + +Presently Mrs. Loveday looked up and said to him, 'She is only in a +faint, John, and her colour is coming back. Now leave her to me; I will +be downstairs in a few minutes, and tell you how she is.' + +John left the room. When he gained the lower apartment his father was +standing by the chimney-piece, the sailor having gone. The trumpet-major +went up to the fire, and, grasping the edge of the high chimney-shelf, +stood silent. + +'Did I hear a noise when I went out?' asked the elder, in a tone of +misgiving. + +'Yes, you did,' said John. 'It was she, but her mother says she is +better now. Father,' he added impetuously, 'Bob is a worthless +blockhead! If there had been any good in him he would have been drowned +years ago!' + +'John, John--not too fast,' said the miller. 'That's a hard thing to say +of your brother, and you ought to be ashamed of it.' + +'Well, he tries me more than I can bear. Good God! what can a man be +made of to go on as he does? Why didn't he come home; or if he couldn't +get leave why didn't he write? 'Tis scandalous of him to serve a woman +like that!' + +'Gently, gently. The chap hev done his duty as a sailor; and though +there might have been something between him and Anne, her mother, in +talking it over with me, has said many times that she couldn't think of +their marrying till Bob had settled down in business with me. Folks that +gain victories must have a little liberty allowed 'em. Look at the +Admiral himself, for that matter.' + +John continued looking at the red coals, till hearing Mrs. Loveday's foot +on the staircase, he went to meet her. + +'She is better,' said Mrs. Loveday; 'but she won't come down again to- +day.' + +Could John have heard what the poor girl was moaning to herself at that +moment as she lay writhing on the bed, he would have doubted her mother's +assurance. 'If he had been dead I could have borne it, but this I cannot +bear!' + + + + +XXXVI. DERRIMAN SEES CHANCES + + +Meanwhile Sailor Cornick had gone on his way as far as the forking roads, +where he met Festus Derriman on foot. The latter, attracted by the +seaman's dress, and by seeing him come from the mill, at once accosted +him. Jim, with the greatest readiness, fell into conversation, and told +the same story as that he had related at the mill. + +'Bob Loveday going to be married?' repeated Festus. + +'You all seem struck of a heap wi' that.' + +'No; I never heard news that pleased me more.' + +When Cornick was gone, Festus, instead of passing straight on, halted on +the little bridge and meditated. Bob, being now interested elsewhere, +would probably not resent the siege of Anne's heart by another; there +could, at any rate, be no further possibility of that looming duel which +had troubled the yeoman's mind ever since his horse-play on Anne at the +house on the down. To march into the mill and propose to Mrs. Loveday +for Anne before John's interest could revive in her was, to this hero's +thinking, excellent discretion. + +The day had already begun to darken when he entered, and the cheerful +fire shone red upon the floor and walls. Mrs. Loveday received him +alone, and asked him to take a seat by the chimney-corner, a little of +the old hankering for him as a son-in-law having permanently remained +with her. + +'Your servant, Mrs. Loveday,' he said, 'and I will tell you at once what +I come for. You will say that I take time by the forelock when I inform +you that it is to push on my long-wished-for alliance wi' your daughter, +as I believe she is now a free woman again.' + +'Thank you, Mr. Derriman,' said the mother placably. 'But she is ill at +present. I'll mention it to her when she is better.' + +'Ask her to alter her cruel, cruel resolves against me, on the score +of--of my consuming passion for her. In short,' continued Festus, +dropping his parlour language in his warmth, 'I'll tell thee what, Dame +Loveday, I want the maid, and must have her.' + +Mrs. Loveday replied that that was very plain speaking. + +'Well, 'tis. But Bob has given her up. He never meant to marry her. +I'll tell you, Mrs. Loveday, what I have never told a soul before. I was +standing upon Budmouth Quay on that very day in last September that Bob +set sail, and I heard him say to his brother John that he gave your +daughter up.' + +'Then it was very unmannerly of him to trifle with her so,' said Mrs. +Loveday warmly. 'Who did he give her up to?' + +Festus replied with hesitation, 'He gave her up to John.' + +'To John? How could he give her up to a man already over head and ears +in love with that actress woman?' + +'O? You surprise me. Which actress is it?' + +'That Miss Johnson. Anne tells me that he loves her hopelessly.' + +Festus arose. Miss Johnson seemed suddenly to acquire high value as a +sweetheart at this announcement. He had himself felt a nameless +attractiveness in her, and John had done likewise. John crossed his path +in all possible ways. + +Before the yeoman had replied somebody opened the door, and the firelight +shone upon the uniform of the person they discussed. Festus nodded on +recognizing him, wished Mrs. Loveday good evening, and went out +precipitately. + +'So Bob told you he meant to break off with my Anne when he went away?' +Mrs. Loveday remarked to the trumpet-major. 'I wish I had known of it +before.' + +John appeared disturbed at the sudden charge. He murmured that he could +not deny it, and then hastily turned from her and followed Derriman, whom +he saw before him on the bridge. + +'Derriman!' he shouted. + +Festus started and looked round. 'Well, trumpet-major,' he said blandly. + +'When will you have sense enough to mind your own business, and not come +here telling things you have heard by sneaking behind people's backs?' +demanded John hotly. 'If you can't learn in any other way, I shall have +to pull your ears again, as I did the other day!' + +'_You_ pull my ears? How can you tell that lie, when you know 'twas +somebody else pulled 'em?' + +'O no, no. I pulled your ears, and thrashed you in a mild way.' + +'You'll swear to it? Surely 'twas another man?' + +'It was in the parlour at the public-house; you were almost in the dark.' +And John added a few details as to the particular blows, which amounted +to proof itself. + +'Then I heartily ask your pardon for saying 'twas a lie!' cried Festus, +advancing with extended hand and a genial smile. 'Sure, if I had known +_'twas_ you, I wouldn't have insulted you by denying it.' + +'That was why you didn't challenge me, then?' + +'That was it! I wouldn't for the world have hurt your nice sense of +honour by letting 'ee go unchallenged, if I had known! And now, you see, +unfortunately I can't mend the mistake. So long a time has passed since +it happened that the heat of my temper is gone off. I couldn't oblige +'ee, try how I might, for I am not a man, trumpet-major, that can butcher +in cold blood--no, not I, nor you neither, from what I know of 'ee. So, +willy-nilly, we must fain let it pass, eh?' + +'We must, I suppose,' said John, smiling grimly. 'Who did you think I +was, then, that night when I boxed you all round?' + +'No, don't press me,' replied the yeoman. 'I can't reveal; it would be +disgracing myself to show how very wide of the truth the mockery of wine +was able to lead my senses. We will let it be buried in eternal mixens +of forgetfulness.' + +'As you wish,' said the trumpet-major loftily. 'But if you ever _should_ +think you knew it was me, why, you know where to find me?' And Loveday +walked away. + +The instant that he was gone Festus shook his fist at the evening star, +which happened to lie in the same direction as that taken by the dragoon. + +'Now for my revenge! Duels? Lifelong disgrace to me if ever I fight +with a man of blood below my own! There are other remedies for upper- +class souls!. . . Matilda--that's my way.' + +Festus strode along till he reached the Hall, where Cripplestraw appeared +gazing at him from under the arch of the porter's lodge. Derriman dashed +open the entrance-hurdle with such violence that the whole row of them +fell flat in the mud. + +'Mercy, Maister Festus!' said Cripplestraw. '"Surely," I says to myself +when I see ye a-coming, "surely Maister Festus is fuming like that +because there's no chance of the enemy coming this year after all."' + +'Cr-r-ripplestraw! I have been wounded to the heart,' replied Derriman, +with a lurid brow. + +'And the man yet lives, and you wants yer horse-pistols instantly? +Certainly, Maister F---' + +'No, Cripplestraw, not my pistols, but my new-cut clothes, my heavy gold +seals, my silver-topped cane, and my buckles that cost more money than he +ever saw! Yes, I must tell somebody, and I'll tell you, because there's +no other fool near. He loves her heart and soul. He's poor; she's tip- +top genteel, and not rich. I am rich, by comparison. I'll court the +pretty play-actress, and win her before his eyes.' + +'Play-actress, Maister Derriman?' + +'Yes. I saw her this very day, met her by accident, and spoke to her. +She's still in the town--perhaps because of him. I can meet her at any +hour of the day-- But I don't mean to marry her; not I. I will court +her for my pastime, and to annoy him. It will be all the more death to +him that I don't want her. Then perhaps he will say to me, "You have +taken my one ewe lamb"--meaning that I am the king, and he's the poor +man, as in the church verse; and he'll beg for mercy when 'tis too +late--unless, meanwhile, I shall have tired of my new toy. Saddle the +horse, Cripplestraw, to-morrow at ten.' + +Full of this resolve to scourge John Loveday to the quick through his +passion for Miss Johnson, Festus came out booted and spurred at the time +appointed, and set off on his morning ride. + +Miss Johnson's theatrical engagement having long ago terminated, she +would have left the Royal watering-place with the rest of the visitors +had not matrimonial hopes detained her there. These had nothing whatever +to do with John Loveday, as may be imagined, but with a stout, staid boat- +builder in Cove Row by the quay, who had shown much interest in her +impersonations. Unfortunately this substantial man had not been quite so +attentive since the end of the season as his previous manner led her to +expect; and it was a great pleasure to the lady to see Mr. Derriman +leaning over the harbour bridge with his eyes fixed upon her as she came +towards it after a stroll past her elderly wooer's house. + +'Od take it, ma'am, you didn't tell me when I saw you last that the +tooting man with the blue jacket and lace was yours devoted?' began +Festus. + +'Who do you mean?' In Matilda's ever-changing emotional interests, John +Loveday was a stale and unprofitable personality. + +'Why, that trumpet-major man.' + +'O! What of him?' + +'Come; he loves you, and you know it, ma'am.' + +She knew, at any rate, how to take the current when it served. So she +glanced at Festus, folded her lips meaningly, and nodded. + +'I've come to cut him out.' + +She shook her head, it being unsafe to speak till she knew a little more +of the subject. + +'What!' said Festus, reddening, 'do you mean to say that you think of him +seriously--you, who might look so much higher?' + +'Constant dropping will wear away a stone; and you should only hear his +pleading! His handsome face is impressive, and his manners are--O, so +genteel! I am not rich; I am, in short, a poor lady of decayed family, +who has nothing to boast of but my blood and ancestors, and they won't +find a body in food and clothing!--I hold the world but as the world, +Derrimanio--a stage where every man must play a part, and mine a sad +one!' She dropped her eyes thoughtfully and sighed. + +'We will talk of this,' said Festus, much affected. 'Let us walk to the +Look-out.' + +She made no objection, and said, as they turned that way, 'Mr. Derriman, +a long time ago I found something belonging to you; but I have never yet +remembered to return it.' And she drew from her bosom the paper which +Anne had dropped in the meadow when eluding the grasp of Festus on that +summer day. + +'Zounds, I smell fresh meat!' cried Festus when he had looked it over. +''Tis in my uncle's writing, and 'tis what I heard him singing on the day +the French didn't come, and afterwards saw him marking in the road. 'Tis +something he's got hid away. Give me the paper, there's a dear; 'tis +worth sterling gold!' + +'Halves, then?' said Matilda tenderly. + +'Gad, yes--anything!' replied Festus, blazing into a smile, for she had +looked up in her best new manner at the possibility that he might be +worth the winning. They went up the steps to the summit of the cliff, +and dwindled over it against the sky. + + + + +XXXVII. REACTION + + +There was no letter from Bob, though December had passed, and the new +year was two weeks old. His movements were, however, pretty accurately +registered in the papers, which John still brought, but which Anne no +longer read. During the second week in December the Victory sailed for +Sheerness, and on the 9th of the following January the public funeral of +Lord Nelson took place in St. Paul's. + +Then there came a meagre line addressed to the family in general. Bob's +new Portsmouth attachment was not mentioned, but he told them he had been +one of the eight-and-forty seamen who walked two-and-two in the funeral +procession, and that Captain Hardy had borne the banner of emblems on the +same occasion. The crew was soon to be paid off at Chatham, when he +thought of returning to Portsmouth for a few days to see a valued friend. +After that he should come home. + +But the spring advanced without bringing him, and John watched Anne +Garland's desolation with augmenting desire to do something towards +consoling her. The old feelings, so religiously held in check, were +stimulated to rebelliousness, though they did not show themselves in any +direct manner as yet. + +The miller, in the meantime, who seldom interfered in such matters, was +observed to look meaningly at Anne and the trumpet-major from day to day; +and by-and-by he spoke privately to John. + +His words were short and to the point: Anne was very melancholy; she had +thought too much of Bob. Now 'twas plain that they had lost him for many +years to come. Well; he had always felt that of the two he would rather +John married her. Now John might settle down there, and succeed where +Bob had failed. 'So if you could get her, my sonny, to think less of him +and more of thyself, it would be a good thing for all.' + +An inward excitement had risen in John; but he suppressed it and said +firmly-- + +'Fairness to Bob before everything!' + +'He hev forgot her, and there's an end on't.' + +'She's not forgot him.' + +'Well, well; think it over.' + +This discourse was the cause of his penning a letter to his brother. He +begged for a distinct statement whether, as John at first supposed, Bob's +verbal renunciation of Anne on the quay had been only a momentary +ebullition of friendship, which it would be cruel to take literally; or +whether, as seemed now, it had passed from a hasty resolve to a standing +purpose, persevered in for his own pleasure, with not a care for the +result on poor Anne. + +John waited anxiously for the answer, but no answer came; and the silence +seemed even more significant than a letter of assurance could have been +of his absolution from further support to a claim which Bob himself had +so clearly renounced. Thus it happened that paternal pressure, brotherly +indifference, and his own released impulse operated in one delightful +direction, and the trumpet-major once more approached Anne as in the old +time. + +But it was not till she had been left to herself for a full five months, +and the blue-bells and ragged-robins of the following year were again +making themselves common to the rambling eye, that he directly addressed +her. She was tying up a group of tall flowering plants in the garden: +she knew that he was behind her, but she did not turn. She had subsided +into a placid dignity which enabled her when watched to perform any +little action with seeming composure--very different from the flutter of +her inexperienced days. + +'Are you never going to turn round?' he at length asked good-humouredly. + +She then did turn, and looked at him for a moment without speaking; a +certain suspicion looming in her eyes, as if suggested by his perceptible +want of ease. + +'How like summer it is getting to feel, is it not?' she said. + +John admitted that it was getting to feel like summer: and, bending his +gaze upon her with an earnestness which no longer left any doubt of his +subject, went on to ask-- + +'Have you ever in these last weeks thought of how it used to be between +us?' + +She replied quickly, 'O, John, you shouldn't begin that again. I am +almost another woman now!' + +'Well, that's all the more reason why I should, isn't it?' + +Anne looked thoughtfully to the other end of the garden, faintly shaking +her head; 'I don't quite see it like that,' she returned. + +'You feel yourself quite free, don't you?' + +'_Quite_ free!' she said instantly, and with proud distinctness; her eyes +fell, and she repeated more slowly, 'Quite free.' Then her thoughts +seemed to fly from herself to him. 'But you are not?' + +'I am not?' + +'Miss Johnson!' + +'O--that woman! You know as well as I that was all make-up, and that I +never for a moment thought of her.' + +'I had an idea you were acting; but I wasn't sure.' + +'Well, that's nothing now. Anne, I want to relieve your life; to cheer +you in some way; to make some amends for my brother's bad conduct. If +you cannot love me, liking will be well enough. I have thought over +every side of it so many times--for months have I been thinking it +over--and I am at last sure that I do right to put it to you in this way. +That I don't wrong Bob I am quite convinced. As far as he is concerned +we be both free. Had I not been sure of that I would never have spoken. +Father wants me to take on the mill, and it will please him if you can +give me one little hope; it will make the house go on altogether better +if you can think o' me.' + +'You are generous and good, John,' she said, as a big round tear bowled +helter-skelter down her face and hat-strings. + +'I am not that; I fear I am quite the opposite,' he said, without looking +at her. 'It would be all gain to me-- But you have not answered my +question.' + +She lifted her eyes. 'John, I cannot!' she said, with a cheerless smile. +'Positively I cannot. Will you make me a promise?' + +'What is it?' + +'I want you to promise first-- Yes, it is dreadfully unreasonable,' she +added, in a mild distress. 'But do promise!' + +John by this time seemed to have a feeling that it was all up with him +for the present. 'I promise,' he said listlessly. + +'It is that you won't speak to me about this for _ever_ so long,' she +returned, with emphatic kindliness. + +'Very good,' he replied; 'very good. Dear Anne, you don't think I have +been unmanly or unfair in starting this anew?' + +Anne looked into his face without a smile. 'You have been perfectly +natural,' she murmured. 'And so I think have I.' + +John, mournfully: 'You will not avoid me for this, or be afraid of me? I +will not break my word. I will not worry you any more.' + +'Thank you, John. You need not have said worry; it isn't that.' + +'Well, I am very blind and stupid. I have been hurting your heart all +the time without knowing it. It is my fate, I suppose. Men who love +women the very best always blunder and give more pain than those who love +them less.' + +Anne laid one of her hands on the other as she softly replied, looking +down at them, 'No one loves me as well as you, John; nobody in the world +is so worthy to be loved; and yet I cannot anyhow love you rightly.' And +lifting her eyes, 'But I do so feel for you that I will try as hard as I +can to think about you.' + +'Well, that is something,' he said, smiling. 'You say I must not speak +about it again for ever so long; how long?' + +'Now that's not fair,' Anne retorted, going down the garden, and leaving +him alone. + +About a week passed. Then one afternoon the miller walked up to Anne +indoors, a weighty topic being expressed in his tread. + +'I was so glad, my honey,' he began, with a knowing smile, 'to see that +from the mill-window last week.' He flung a nod in the direction of the +garden. + +Anne innocently inquired what it could be. + +'Jack and you in the garden together,' he continued laying his hand +gently on her shoulder and stroking it. 'It would so please me, my dear +little girl, if you could get to like him better than that weathercock, +Master Bob.' + +Anne shook her head; not in forcible negation, but to imply a kind of +neutrality. + +'Can't you? Come now,' said the miller. + +She threw back her head with a little laugh of grievance. 'How you all +beset me!' she expostulated. 'It makes me feel very wicked in not +obeying you, and being faithful--faithful to--' But she could not trust +that side of the subject to words. 'Why would it please you so much?' +she asked. + +'John is as steady and staunch a fellow as ever blowed a trumpet. I've +always thought you might do better with him than with Bob. Now I've a +plan for taking him into the mill, and letting him have a comfortable +time o't after his long knocking about; but so much depends upon you that +I must bide a bit till I see what your pleasure is about the poor fellow. +Mind, my dear, I don't want to force ye; I only just ask ye.' + +Anne meditatively regarded the miller from under her shady eyelids, the +fingers of one hand playing a silent tattoo on her bosom. 'I don't know +what to say to you,' she answered brusquely, and went away. + +But these discourses were not without their effect upon the extremely +conscientious mind of Anne. They were, moreover, much helped by an +incident which took place one evening in the autumn of this year, when +John came to tea. Anne was sitting on a low stool in front of the fire, +her hands clasped across her knee. John Loveday had just seated himself +on a chair close behind her, and Mrs. Loveday was in the act of filling +the teapot from the kettle which hung in the chimney exactly above Anne. +The kettle slipped forward suddenly, whereupon John jumped from the chair +and put his own two hands over Anne's just in time to shield them, and +the precious knee she clasped, from the jet of scalding water which had +directed itself upon that point. The accidental overflow was instantly +checked by Mrs. Loveday; but what had come was received by the devoted +trumpet-major on the back of his hands. + +Anne, who had hardly been aware that he was behind her, started up like a +person awakened from a trance. 'What have you done to yourself, poor +John, to keep it off me!' she cried, looking at his hands. + +John reddened emotionally at her words, 'It is a bit of a scald, that's +all,' he replied, drawing a finger across the back of one hand, and +bringing off the skin by the touch. + +'You are scalded painfully, and I not at all!' She gazed into his kind +face as she had never gazed there before, and when Mrs. Loveday came back +with oil and other liniments for the wound Anne would let nobody dress it +but herself. It seemed as if her coyness had all gone, and when she had +done all that lay in her power she still sat by him. At his departure +she said what she had never said to him in her life before: 'Come again +soon!' + +In short, that impulsive act of devotion, the last of a series of the +same tenor, had been the added drop which finally turned the wheel. +John's character deeply impressed her. His determined steadfastness to +his lode star won her admiration, the more especially as that star was +herself. She began to wonder more and more how she could have so +persistently held out against his advances before Bob came home to renew +girlish memories which had by that time got considerably weakened. Could +she not, after all, please the miller, and try to listen to John? By so +doing she would make a worthy man happy, the only sacrifice being at +worst that of her unworthy self, whose future was no longer valuable. 'As +for Bob, the woman is to be pitied who loves him,' she reflected +indignantly, and persuaded herself that, whoever the woman might be, she +was not Anne Garland. + +After this there was something of recklessness and something of +pleasantry in the young girl's manner of making herself an example of the +triumph of pride and common sense over memory and sentiment. Her +attitude had been epitomized in her defiant singing at the time she +learnt that Bob was not leal and true. John, as was inevitable, came +again almost immediately, drawn thither by the sun of her first smile on +him, and the words which had accompanied it. And now instead of going +off to her little pursuits upstairs, downstairs, across the room, in the +corner, or to any place except where he happened to be, as had been her +custom hitherto, she remained seated near him, returning interesting +answers to his general remarks, and at every opportunity letting him know +that at last he had found favour in her eyes. + +The day was fine, and they went out of doors, where Anne endeavoured to +seat herself on the sloping stone of the window-sill. + +'How good you have become lately,' said John, standing over her and +smiling in the sunlight which blazed against the wall. 'I fancy you have +stayed at home this afternoon on my account.' + +'Perhaps I have,' she said gaily-- + + '"Do whatever we may for him, dame, we cannot do too much! + For he's one that has guarded our land." + +'And he has done more than that: he has saved me from a dreadful +scalding. The back of your hand will not be well for a long time, John, +will it?' + +He held out his hand to regard its condition, and the next natural thing +was to take hers. There was a glow upon his face when he did it: his +star was at last on a fair way towards the zenith after its long and +weary declination. The least penetrating eye could have perceived that +Anne had resolved to let him woo, possibly in her temerity to let him +win. Whatever silent sorrow might be locked up in her, it was by this +time thrust a long way down from the light. + +'I want you to go somewhere with me if you will,' he said, still holding +her hand. + +'Yes? Where is it?' + +He pointed to a distant hill-side which, hitherto green, had within the +last few days begun to show scratches of white on its face. 'Up there,' +he said. + +'I see little figures of men moving about. What are they doing?' + +'Cutting out a huge picture of the king on horseback in the earth of the +hill. The king's head is to be as big as our mill-pond and his body as +big as this garden; he and the horse will cover more than an acre. When +shall we go?' + +'Whenever you please,' said she. + +'John!' cried Mrs. Loveday from the front door. 'Here's a friend come +for you.' + +John went round, and found his trusty lieutenant, Trumpeter Buck, waiting +for him. A letter had come to the barracks for John in his absence, and +the trumpeter, who was going for a walk, had brought it along with him. +Buck then entered the mill to discuss, if possible, a mug of last year's +mead with the miller; and John proceeded to read his letter, Anne being +still round the corner where he had left her. When he had read a few +words he turned as pale as a sheet, but he did not move, and perused the +writing to the end. + +Afterwards he laid his elbow against the wall, and put his palm to his +head, thinking with painful intentness. Then he took himself vigorously +in hand, as it were, and gradually became natural again. When he parted +from Anne to go home with Buck she noticed nothing different in him. + +In barracks that evening he read the letter again. It was from Bob; and +the agitating contents were these:-- + + 'DEAR JOHN,--I have drifted off from writing till the present time + because I have not been clear about my feelings; but I have discovered + them at last, and can say beyond doubt that I mean to be faithful to + my dearest Anne after all. The fact is, John, I've got into a bit of + a scrape, and I've a secret to tell you about it (which must go no + further on any account). On landing last autumn I fell in with a + young woman, and we got rather warm as folks do; in short, we liked + one another well enough for a while. But I have got into shoal water + with her, and have found her to be a terrible take-in. Nothing in her + at all--no sense, no niceness, all tantrums and empty noise, John, + though she seemed monstrous clever at first. So my heart comes back + to its old anchorage. I hope my return to faithfulness will make no + difference to you. But as you showed by your looks at our parting + that you should not accept my offer to give her up--made in too much + haste, as I have since found--I feel that you won't mind that I have + returned to the path of honour. I dare not write to Anne as yet, and + please do not let her know a word about the other young woman, or + there will be the devil to pay. I shall come home and make all things + right, please God. In the meantime I should take it as a kindness, + John, if you would keep a brotherly eye upon Anne, and guide her mind + back to me. I shall die of sorrow if anybody sets her against me, for + my hopes are getting bound up in her again quite strong. Hoping you + are jovial, as times go, I am,--Your affectionate brother, + + ROBERT.' + +When the cold daylight fell upon John's face, as he dressed himself next +morning, the incipient yesterday's wrinkle in his forehead had become +permanently graven there. He had resolved, for the sake of that only +brother whom he had nursed as a baby, instructed as a child, and +protected and loved always, to pause in his procedure for the present, +and at least do nothing to hinder Bob's restoration to favour, if a +genuine, even though temporarily smothered, love for Anne should still +hold possession of him. But having arranged to take her to see the +excavated figure of the king, he started for Overcombe during the day, as +if nothing had occurred to check the smooth course of his love. + + + + +XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION + + +'I am ready to go,' said Anne, as soon as he arrived. + +He paused as if taken aback by her readiness, and replied with much +uncertainty, 'Would it--wouldn't it be better to put it off till there is +less sun?' + +The very slightest symptom of surprise arose in her as she rejoined, 'But +the weather may change; or had we better not go at all?' + +'O no!--it was only a thought. We will start at once.' + +And along the vale they went, John keeping himself about a yard from her +right hand. When the third field had been crossed they came upon half-a- +dozen little boys at play. + +'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' said the biggest and +rudest boy. + +'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' echoed all the rude +smaller boys in a chorus. + +The trumpet-major turned, and, after some running, succeeded in smacking +two of them with his switch, returning to Anne breathless. 'I am ashamed +they should have insulted you so,' he said, blushing for her. + +'They said no harm, poor boys,' she replied reproachfully. + +Poor John was dumb with perception. The gentle hint upon which he would +have eagerly spoken only one short day ago was now like fire to his +wound. + +They presently came to some stepping-stones across a brook. John crossed +first without turning his head, and Anne, just lifting the skirt of her +dress, crossed behind him. When they had reached the other side a +village girl and a young shepherd approached the brink to cross. Anne +stopped and watched them. The shepherd took a hand of the young girl in +each of his own, and walked backward over the stones, facing her, and +keeping her upright by his grasp, both of them laughing as they went. + +'What are you staying for, Miss Garland?' asked John. + +'I was only thinking how happy they are,' she said quietly; and +withdrawing her eyes from the tender pair, she turned and followed him, +not knowing that the seeming sound of a passing bumble-bee was a +suppressed groan from John. + +When they reached the hill they found forty navvies at work removing the +dark sod so as to lay bare the chalk beneath. The equestrian figure that +their shovels were forming was scarcely intelligible to John and Anne now +they were close, and after pacing from the horse's head down his breast +to his hoof, back by way of the king's bridle-arm, past the bridge of his +nose, and into his cocked-hat, Anne said that she had had enough of it, +and stepped out of the chalk clearing upon the grass. The trumpet-major +had remained all the time in a melancholy attitude within the rowel of +his Majesty's right spur. + +'My shoes are caked with chalk,' she said as they walked downwards again; +and she drew back her dress to look at them. 'How can I get some of it +cleared off?' + +'If you was to wipe them in the long grass there,' said John, pointing to +a spot where the blades were rank and dense, 'some of it would come off.' +Having said this, he walked on with religious firmness. + +Anne raked her little feet on the right side, on the left side, over the +toe, and behind the heel; but the tenacious chalk held its own. Panting +with her exertion, she gave it up, and at length overtook him. + +'I hope it is right now?' he said, looking gingerly over his shoulder. + +'No, indeed!' said she. 'I wanted some assistance--some one to steady +me. It is so hard to stand on one foot and wipe the other without +support. I was in danger of toppling over, and so gave it up.' + +'Merciful stars, what an opportunity!' thought the poor fellow while she +waited for him to offer help. But his lips remained closed, and she went +on with a pouting smile-- + +'You seem in such a hurry! Why are you in such a hurry? After all the +fine things you have said about--about caring so much for me, and all +that, you won't stop for anything!' + +It was too much for John. 'Upon my heart and life, my dea--' he began. +Here Bob's letter crackled warningly in his waistcoat pocket as he laid +his hand asseveratingly upon his breast, and he became suddenly scaled up +to dumbness and gloom as before. + +When they reached home Anne sank upon a stool outside the door, fatigued +with her excursion. Her first act was to try to pull off her shoe--it +was a difficult matter; but John stood beating with his switch the leaves +of the creeper on the wall. + +'Mother--David--Molly, or somebody--do come and help me pull off these +dirty shoes!' she cried aloud at last. 'Nobody helps me in anything!' + +'I am very sorry,' said John, coming towards her with incredible slowness +and an air of unutterable depression. + +'O, I can do without _you_. David is best,' she returned, as the old man +approached and removed the obnoxious shoes in a trice. + +Anne was amazed at this sudden change from devotion to crass +indifference. On entering her room she flew to the glass, almost +expecting to learn that some extraordinary change had come over her +pretty countenance, rendering her intolerable for evermore. But it was, +if anything, fresher than usual, on account of the exercise. 'Well!' she +said retrospectively. For the first time since their acqaintance she had +this week encouraged him; and for the first time he had shown that +encouragement was useless. 'But perhaps he does not clearly understand,' +she added serenely. + +When he next came it was, to her surprise, to bring her newspapers, now +for some time discontinued. As soon as she saw them she said, 'I do not +care for newspapers.' + +'The shipping news is very full and long to-day, though the print is +rather small.' + +'I take no further interest in the shipping news,' she replied with cold +dignity. + +She was sitting by the window, inside the table, and hence when, in spite +of her negations, he deliberately unfolded the paper and began to read +about the Royal Navy she could hardly rise and go away. With a stoical +mien he read on to the end of the report, bringing out the name of Bob's +ship with tremendous force. + +'No,' she said at last, 'I'll hear no more! Let me read to you.' + +The trumpet-major sat down. Anne turned to the military news, delivering +every detail with much apparent enthusiasm. 'That's the subject _I_ +like!' she said fervently. + +'But--but Bob is in the navy now, and will most likely rise to be an +officer. And then--' + +'What is there like the army?' she interrupted. 'There is no smartness +about sailors. They waddle like ducks, and they only fight stupid +battles that no one can form any idea of. There is no science nor +stratagem in sea-fights--nothing more than what you see when two rams run +their heads together in a field to knock each other down. But in +military battles there is such art, and such splendour, and the men are +so smart, particularly the horse-soldiers. O, I shall never forget what +gallant men you all seemed when you came and pitched your tents on the +downs! I like the cavalry better than anything I know; and the dragoons +the best of the cavalry--and the trumpeters the best of the dragoons!' + +'O, if it had but come a little sooner!' moaned John within him. He +replied as soon as he could regain self-command, 'I am glad Bob is in the +navy at last--he is so much more fitted for that than the +merchant-service--so brave by nature, ready for any daring deed. I have +heard ever so much more about his doings on board the Victory. Captain +Hardy took special notice that when he--' + +'I don't want to know anything more about it,' said Anne impatiently; 'of +course sailors fight; there's nothing else to do in a ship, since you +can't run away! You may as well fight and be killed as be killed not +fighting.' + +'Still it is his character to be careless of himself where the honour of +his country is concerned,' John pleaded. 'If you had only known him as a +boy you would own it. He would always risk his own life to save anybody +else's. Once when a cottage was afire up the lane he rushed in for a +baby, although he was only a boy himself, and he had the narrowest +escape. We have got his hat now with the hole burnt in it. Shall I get +it and show it to you?' + +'No--I don't wish it. It has nothing to do with me.' But as he +persisted in his course towards the door, she added, 'Ah! you are leaving +because I am in your way. You want to be alone while you read the +paper--I will go at once. I did not see that I was interrupting you.' +And she rose as if to retreat. + +'No, no! I would rather be interrupted by _you_ than--O, Miss Garland, +excuse me! I'll just speak to father in the mill, now I am here.' + +It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose unquestionable +gentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has been many times insisted +on in the course of this history) was usually the reverse of a woman with +a coming-on disposition; but, whether from pique at his manner, or from +wilful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, or from coquettish +maliciousness in reaction from long depression, or from any other +thing,--so it was that she would not let him go. + +'Trumpet-major,' she said, recalling him. + +'Yes?' he replied timidly. + +'The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it not?' She turned and +fixed her bewitching glance upon him. + +The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the point +where the organ of comparison merges in that of benevolence, according to +the phrenological theory of Gall. John, thus brought to, endeavoured to +look at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drake fashion, so as to avoid +dipping his own glance as far as to the plane of his interrogator's eyes. +'It is untied,' he said, drawing back a little. + +She came nearer, and asked, 'Will you tie it for me, please?' + +As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and assented. As her head +only reached to his fourth button she necessarily looked up for his +convenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he would it was +impossible to touch the ribbon without getting his finger tips mixed with +the curls of her forehead. + +'Your hand shakes--ah! you have been walking fast,' she said. + +'Yes--yes.' + +'Have you almost done it?' She inquiringly directed her gaze upward +through his fingers. + +'No--not yet,' he faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart going +like a flail. + +'Then be quick, please.' + +'Yes, I will, Miss Garland! B-B-Bob is a very good fel--' + +'Not that man's name to me!' she interrupted. + +John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the rustling +of the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among the curls, and +then touched her forehead. + +'O good God!' ejaculated the trumpet-major in a whisper, turning away +hastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting his face upon his hand. + +'What's the matter, John?' said she. + +'I can't do it!' + +'What?' + +'Tie your cap-ribbon.' + +'Why not?' + +'Because you are so--Because I am clumsy, and never could tie a bow.' + +'You are clumsy indeed,' answered Anne, and went away. + +After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he rated her +happiness as of meaner value than Bob's; since he had persisted in his +idea of giving Bob another chance when she had implied that it was her +wish to do otherwise. Could Miss Johnson have anything to do with his +firmness? An opportunity of testing him in this direction occurred some +days later. She had been up the village, and met John at the mill-door. + +'Have you heard the news? Matilda Johnson is going to be married to +young Derriman.' + +Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his features +were searchingly exhibited. There was no change whatever in them, unless +it were that a certain light of interest kindled by her question turned +to complete and blank indifference. 'Well, as times go, it is not a bad +match for her,' he said, with a phlegm which was hardly that of a lover. + +John on his part was beginning to find these temptations almost more than +he could bear. But being quartered so near to his father's house it was +unnatural not to visit him, especially when at any moment the regiment +might be ordered abroad, and a separation of years ensue; and as long as +he went there he could not help seeing her. + +The year changed from green to gold, and from gold to grey, but little +change came over the house of Loveday. During the last twelve months Bob +had been occasionally heard of as upholding his country's honour in +Denmark, the West Indies, Gibraltar, Malta, and other places about the +globe, till the family received a short letter stating that he had +arrived again at Portsmouth. At Portsmouth Bob seemed disposed to +remain, for though some time elapsed without further intelligence, the +gallant seaman never appeared at Overcombe. Then on a sudden John learnt +that Bob's long-talked-of promotion for signal services rendered was to +be an accomplished fact. The trumpet-major at once walked off to +Overcombe, and reached the village in the early afternoon. Not one of +the family was in the house at the moment, and John strolled onwards over +the hill towards Casterbridge, without much thought of direction till, +lifting his eyes, he beheld Anne Garland wandering about with a little +basket upon her arm. + +At first John blushed with delight at the sweet vision; but, recalled by +his conscience, the blush of delight was at once mangled and slain. He +looked for a means of retreat. But the field was open, and a soldier was +a conspicuous object: there was no escaping her. + +'It was kind of you to come,' she said, with an inviting smile. + +'It was quite by accident,' he answered, with an indifferent laugh. 'I +thought you was at home.' + +Anne blushed and said nothing, and they rambled on together. In the +middle of the field rose a fragment of stone wall in the form of a gable, +known as Faringdon Ruin; and when they had reached it John paused and +politely asked her if she were not a little tired with walking so far. No +particular reply was returned by the young lady, but they both stopped, +and Anne seated herself on a stone, which had fallen from the ruin to the +ground. + +'A church once stood here,' observed John in a matter-of-fact tone. + +'Yes, I have often shaped it out in my mind,' she returned. 'Here where +I sit must have been the altar.' + +'True; this standing bit of wall was the chancel end.' + +Anne had been adding up her little studies of the trumpet-major's +character, and was surprised to find how the brightness of that character +increased in her eyes with each examination. A kindly and gentle +sensation was again aroused in her. Here was a neglected heroic man, +who, loving her to distraction, deliberately doomed himself to pensive +shade to avoid even the appearance of standing in a brother's way. + +'If the altar stood here, hundreds of people have been made man and wife +just there, in past times,' she said, with calm deliberateness, throwing +a little stone on a spot about a yard westward. + +John annihilated another tender burst and replied, 'Yes, this field used +to be a village. My grandfather could call to mind when there were +houses here. But the squire pulled 'em down, because poor folk were an +eyesore to him.' + +'Do you know, John, what you once asked me to do?' she continued, not +accepting the digression, and turning her eyes upon him. + +'In what sort of way?' + +'In the matter of my future life, and yours.' + +'I am afraid I don't.' + +'John Loveday!' + +He turned his back upon her for a moment, that she might not see his +face. 'Ah--I do remember,' he said at last, in a dry, small, repressed +voice. + +'Well--need I say more? Isn't it sufficient?' + +'It would be sufficient,' answered the unhappy man. 'But--' + +She looked up with a reproachful smile, and shook her head. 'That +summer,' she went on, 'you asked me ten times if you asked me once. I am +older now; much more of a woman, you know; and my opinion is changed +about some people; especially about one.' + +'O Anne, Anne!' he burst out as, racked between honour and desire, he +snatched up her hand. The next moment it fell heavily to her lap. He +had absolutely relinquished it half-way to his lips. + +'I have been thinking lately,' he said, with preternaturally sudden +calmness, 'that men of the military profession ought not to m--ought to +be like St. Paul, I mean.' + +'Fie, John; pretending religion!' she said sternly. 'It isn't that at +all. _It's Bob_!' + +'Yes!' cried the miserable trumpet-major. 'I have had a letter from him +to-day.' He pulled out a sheet of paper from his breast. 'That's it! +He's promoted--he's a lieutenant, and appointed to a sloop that only +cruises on our own coast, so that he'll be at home on leave half his +time--he'll be a gentleman some day, and worthy of you!' + +He threw the letter into her lap, and drew back to the other side of the +gable-wall. Anne jumped up from her seat, flung away the letter without +looking at it, and went hastily on. John did not attempt to overtake +her. Picking up the letter, he followed in her wake at a distance of a +hundred yards. + +But, though Anne had withdrawn from his presence thus precipitately, she +never thought more highly of him in her life than she did five minutes +afterwards, when the excitement of the moment had passed. She saw it all +quite clearly; and his self-sacrifice impressed her so much that the +effect was just the reverse of what he had been aiming to produce. The +more he pleaded for Bob, the more her perverse generosity pleaded for +John. To-day the crisis had come--with what results she had not +foreseen. + +As soon as the trumpet-major reached the nearest pen-and-ink he flung +himself into a seat and wrote wildly to Bob:-- + + 'DEAR ROBERT,--I write these few lines to let you know that if you + want Anne Garland you must come at once--you must come instantly, and + post-haste--_or she will be gone_! Somebody else wants her, and she + wants him! It is your last chance, in the opinion of-- + + 'Your faithful brother and well-wisher, + 'JOHN. + + 'P.S.--Glad to hear of your promotion. Tell me the day and I'll meet + the coach.' + + + + +XXXIX. BOB LOVEDAY STRUTS UP AND DOWN + + +One night, about a week later, two men were walking in the dark along the +turnpike road towards Overcombe, one of them with a bag in his hand. + +'Now,' said the taller of the two, the squareness of whose shoulders +signified that he wore epaulettes, 'now you must do the best you can for +yourself, Bob. I have done all I can; but th'hast thy work cut out, I +can tell thee.' + +'I wouldn't have run such a risk for the world,' said the other, in a +tone of ingenuous contrition. 'But thou'st see, Jack, I didn't think +there was any danger, knowing you was taking care of her, and keeping my +place warm for me. I didn't hurry myself, that's true; but, thinks I, if +I get this promotion I am promised I shall naturally have leave, and then +I'll go and see 'em all. Gad, I shouldn't have been here now but for +your letter!' + +'You little think what risks you've run,' said his brother. 'However, +try to make up for lost time.' + +'All right. And whatever you do, Jack, don't say a word about this other +girl. Hang the girl!--I was a great fool, I know; still, it is over now, +and I am come to my senses. I suppose Anne never caught a capful of wind +from that quarter?' + +'She knows all about it,' said John seriously. + +'Knows? By George, then, I'm ruined!' said Bob, standing stock-still in +the road as if he meant to remain there all night. + +'That's what I meant by saying it would be a hard battle for 'ee,' +returned John, with the same quietness as before. + +Bob sighed and moved on. 'I don't deserve that woman!' he cried +passionately, thumping his three upper ribs with his fist. + +'I've thought as much myself,' observed John, with a dryness which was +almost bitter. 'But it depends on how thou'st behave in future.' + +'John,' said Bob, taking his brother's hand, 'I'll be a new man. I +solemnly swear by that eternal milestone staring at me there that I'll +never look at another woman with the thought of marrying her whilst that +darling is free--no, not if she be a mermaiden of light! It's a lucky +thing that I'm slipped in on the quarterdeck! it may help me with +her--hey?' + +'It may with her mother; I don't think it will make much difference with +Anne. Still, it is a good thing; and I hope that some day you'll command +a big ship.' + +Bob shook his head. 'Officers are scarce; but I'm afraid my luck won't +carry me so far as that.' + +'Did she ever tell you that she mentioned your name to the King?' + +The seaman stood still again. 'Never!' he said. 'How did such a thing +as that happen, in Heaven's name?' + +John described in detail, and they walked on, lost in conjecture. + +As soon as they entered the house the returned officer of the navy was +welcomed with acclamation by his father and David, with mild approval by +Mrs. Loveday, and by Anne not at all--that discreet maiden having +carefully retired to her own room some time earlier in the evening. Bob +did not dare to ask for her in any positive manner; he just inquired +about her health, and that was all. + +'Why, what's the matter with thy face, my son?' said the miller, staring. +'David, show a light here.' And a candle was thrust against Bob's cheek, +where there appeared a jagged streak like the geological remains of a +lobster. + +'O--that's where that rascally Frenchman's grenade busted and hit me from +the Redoubtable, you know, as I told 'ee in my letter.' + +'Not a word!' + +'What, didn't I tell 'ee? Ah, no; I meant to, but I forgot it.' + +'And here's a sort of dint in yer forehead too; what do that mean, my +dear boy?' said the miller, putting his finger in a chasm in Bob's skull. + +'That was done in the Indies. Yes, that was rather a troublesome chop--a +cutlass did it. I should have told 'ee, but I found 'twould make my +letter so long that I put it off, and put it off; and at last thought it +wasn't worth while.' + +John soon rose to take his departure. + +'It's all up with me and her, you see,' said Bob to him outside the door. +'She's not even going to see me.' + +'Wait a little,' said the trumpet-major. It was easy enough on the night +of the arrival, in the midst of excitement, when blood was warm, for Anne +to be resolute in her avoidance of Bob Loveday. But in the morning +determination is apt to grow invertebrate; rules of pugnacity are less +easily acted up to, and a feeling of live and let live takes possession +of the gentle soul. Anne had not meant even to sit down to the same +breakfast-table with Bob; but when the rest were assembled, and had got +some way through the substantial repast which was served at this hour in +the miller's house, Anne entered. She came silently as a phantom, her +eyes cast down, her cheeks pale. It was a good long walk from the door +to the table, and Bob made a full inspection of her as she came up to a +chair at the remotest corner, in the direct rays of the morning light, +where she dumbly sat herself down. + +It was altogether different from how she had expected. Here was she, who +had done nothing, feeling all the embarrassment; and Bob, who had done +the wrong, feeling apparently quite at ease. + +'You'll speak to Bob, won't you, honey?' said the miller after a silence. +To meet Bob like this after an absence seemed irregular in his eyes. + +'If he wish me to,' she replied, so addressing the miller that no part, +scrap, or outlying beam whatever of her glance passed near the subject of +her remark. + +'He's a lieutenant, you know, dear,' said her mother on the same side; +'and he's been dreadfully wounded.' + +'Oh?' said Anne, turning a little towards the false one; at which Bob +felt it to be time for him to put in a spoke for himself. + +'I am glad to see you,' he said contritely; 'and how do you do?' + +'Very well, thank you.' + +He extended his hand. She allowed him to take hers, but only to the +extent of a niggardly inch or so. At the same moment she glanced up at +him, when their eyes met, and hers were again withdrawn. + +The hitch between the two younger members of the household tended to make +the breakfast a dull one. Bob was so depressed by her unforgiving manner +that he could not throw that sparkle into his stories which their +substance naturally required; and when the meal was over, and they went +about their different businesses, the pair resembled the two Dromios in +seldom or never being, thanks to Anne's subtle contrivances, both in the +same room at the same time. + +This kind of performance repeated itself during several days. At last, +after dogging her hither and thither, leaning with a wrinkled forehead +against doorposts, taking an oblique view into the room where she +happened to be, picking up worsted balls and getting no thanks, placing a +splinter from the Victory, several bullets from the Redoubtable, a strip +of the flag, and other interesting relics, carefully labelled, upon her +table, and hearing no more about them than if they had been pebbles from +the nearest brook, he hit upon a new plan. To avoid him she frequently +sat upstairs in a window overlooking the garden. Lieutenant Loveday +carefully dressed himself in a new uniform, which he had caused to be +sent some days before, to dazzle admiring friends, but which he had never +as yet put on in public or mentioned to a soul. When arrayed he entered +the sunny garden, and there walked slowly up and down as he had seen +Nelson and Captain Hardy do on the quarter-deck; but keeping his right +shoulder, on which his one epaulette was fixed, as much towards Anne's +window as possible. + +But she made no sign, though there was not the least question that she +saw him. At the end of half-an-hour he went in, took off his clothes, +and gave himself up to doubt and the best tobacco. + +He repeated the programme on the next afternoon, and on the next, never +saying a word within doors about his doings or his notice. + +Meanwhile the results in Anne's chamber were not uninteresting. She had +been looking out on the first day, and was duly amazed to see a naval +officer in full uniform promenading in the path. Finding it to be Bob, +she left the window with a sense that the scene was not for her; then, +from mere curiosity, peeped out from behind the curtain. Well, he was a +pretty spectacle, she admitted, relieved as his figure was by a dense +mass of sunny, close-trimmed hedge, over which nasturtiums climbed in +wild luxuriance; and if she could care for him one bit, which she +couldn't, his form would have been a delightful study, surpassing in +interest even its splendour on the memorable day of their visit to the +town theatre. She called her mother; Mrs. Loveday came promptly. + +'O, it is nothing,' said Anne indifferently; 'only that Bob has got his +uniform.' + +Mrs. Loveday peeped out, and raised her hands with delight. 'And he has +not said a word to us about it! What a lovely epaulette! I must call +his father.' + +'No, indeed. As I take no interest in him I shall not let people come +into my room to admire him.' + +'Well, you called me,' said her mother. + +'It was because I thought you liked fine clothes. It is what I don't +care for.' + +Notwithstanding this assertion she again looked out at Bob the next +afternoon when his footsteps rustled on the gravel, and studied his +appearance under all the varying angles of the sunlight, as if fine +clothes and uniforms were not altogether a matter of indifference. He +certainly was a splendid, gentlemanly, and gallant sailor from end to end +of him; but then, what were a dashing presentment, a naval rank, and +telling scars, if a man was fickle-hearted? However, she peeped on till +the fourth day, and then she did not peep. The window was open, she +looked right out, and Bob knew that he had got a rise to his bait at +last. He touched his hat to her, keeping his right shoulder forwards, +and said, 'Good-day, Miss Garland,' with a smile. + +Anne replied, 'Good-day,' with funereal seriousness; and the acquaintance +thus revived led to the interchange of a few words at supper-time, at +which Mrs. Loveday nodded with satisfaction. But Anne took especial care +that he should never meet her alone, and to insure this her ingenuity was +in constant exercise. There were so many nooks and windings on the +miller's rambling premises that she could never be sure he would not turn +up within a foot of her, particularly as his thin shoes were almost +noiseless. + +One fine afternoon she accompanied Molly in search of elderberries for +making the family wine which was drunk by Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and anybody +who could not stand the rougher and stronger liquors provided by the +miller. After walking rather a long distance over the down they came to +a grassy hollow, where elder-bushes in knots of twos and threes rose from +an uneven bank and hung their heads towards the south, black and heavy +with bunches of fruit. The charm of fruit-gathering to girls is enhanced +in the case of elderberries by the inoffensive softness of the leaves, +boughs, and bark, which makes getting into the branches easy and pleasant +to the most indifferent climbers. Anne and Molly had soon gathered a +basketful, and sending the servant home with it, Anne remained in the +bush picking and throwing down bunch by bunch upon the grass. She was so +absorbed in her occupation of pulling the twigs towards her, and the +rustling of their leaves so filled her ears, that it was a great surprise +when, on turning her head, she perceived a similar movement to her own +among the boughs of the adjoining bush. + +At first she thought they were disturbed by being partly in contact with +the boughs of her bush; but in a moment Robert Loveday's face peered from +them, at a distance of about a yard from her own. Anne uttered a little +indignant 'Well!' recovered herself, and went on plucking. Bob thereupon +went on plucking likewise. + +'I am picking elderberries for your mother,' said the lieutenant at last, +humbly. + +'So I see.' + +'And I happen to have come to the next bush to yours.' + +'So I see; but not the reason why.' + +Anne was now in the westernmost branches of the bush, and Bob had leant +across into the eastern branches of his. In gathering he swayed towards +her, back again, forward again. + +'I beg pardon,' he said, when a further swing than usual had taken him +almost in contact with her. + +'Then why do you do it?' + +'The wind rocks the bough, and the bough rocks me.' She expressed by a +look her opinion of this statement in the face of the gentlest breeze; +and Bob pursued: 'I am afraid the berries will stain your pretty hands.' + +'I wear gloves.' + +'Ah, that's a plan I should never have thought of. Can I help you?' + +'Not at all.' + +'You are offended: that's what that means.' + +'No,' she said. + +'Then will you shake hands?' + +Anne hesitated; then slowly stretched out her hand, which he took at +once. 'That will do,' she said, finding that he did not relinquish it +immediately. But as he still held it, she pulled, the effect of which +was to draw Bob's swaying person, bough and all, towards her, and herself +towards him. + +'I am afraid to let go your hand,' said that officer, 'for if I do your +spar will fly back, and you will be thrown upon the deck with great +violence.' + +'I wish you to let me go!' + +He accordingly did, and she flew back, but did not by any means fall. + +'It reminds me of the times when I used to be aloft clinging to a yard +not much bigger than this tree-stem, in the mid-Atlantic, and thinking +about you. I could see you in my fancy as plain as I see you now.' + +'Me, or some other woman!' retorted Anne haughtily. + +'No!' declared Bob, shaking the bush for emphasis, 'I'll protest that I +did not think of anybody but you all the time we were dropping down +channel, all the time we were off Cadiz, all the time through battles and +bombardments. I seemed to see you in the smoke, and, thinks I, if I go +to Davy's locker, what will she do?' + +'You didn't think that when you landed after Trafalgar.' + +'Well, now,' said the lieutenant in a reasoning tone; 'that was a curious +thing. You'll hardly believe it, maybe; but when a man is away from the +woman he loves best in the port--world, I mean--he can have a sort of +temporary feeling for another without disturbing the old one, which flows +along under the same as ever.' + +'I can't believe it, and won't,' said Anne firmly. + +Molly now appeared with the empty basket, and when it had been filled +from the heap on the grass, Anne went home with her, bidding Loveday a +frigid adieu. + +The same evening, when Bob was absent, the miller proposed that they +should all three go to an upper window of the house, to get a distant +view of some rockets and illuminations which were to be exhibited in the +town and harbour in honour of the King, who had returned this year as +usual. They accordingly went upstairs to an empty attic, placed chairs +against the window, and put out the light; Anne sitting in the middle, +her mother close by, and the miller behind, smoking. No sign of any +pyrotechnic display was visible over the port as yet, and Mrs. Loveday +passed the time by talking to the miller, who replied in monosyllables. +While this was going on Anne fancied that she heard some one approach, +and presently felt sure that Bob was drawing near her in the surrounding +darkness; but as the other two had noticed nothing she said not a word. + +All at once the swarthy expanse of southward sky was broken by the blaze +of several rockets simultaneously ascending from different ships in the +roads. At the very same moment a warm mysterious hand slipped round her +own, and gave it a gentle squeeze. + +'O dear!' said Anne, with a sudden start away. + +'How nervous you are, child, to be startled by fireworks so far off,' +said Mrs. Loveday. + +'I never saw rockets before,' murmured Anne, recovering from her +surprise. + +Mrs. Loveday presently spoke again. 'I wonder what has become of Bob?' + +Anne did not reply, being much exercised in trying to get her hand away +from the one that imprisoned it; and whatever the miller thought he kept +to himself, because it disturbed his smoking to speak. + +Another batch of rockets went up. 'O I never!' said Anne, in a +half-suppressed tone, springing in her chair. A second hand had with the +rise of the rockets leapt round her waist. + +'Poor girl, you certainly must have change of scene at this rate,' said +Mrs. Loveday. + +'I suppose I must,' murmured the dutiful daughter. + +For some minutes nothing further occurred to disturb Anne's serenity. +Then a slow, quiet 'a-hem' came from the obscurity of the apartment. + +'What, Bob? How long have you been there?' inquired Mrs. Loveday. + +'Not long,' said the lieutenant coolly. 'I heard you were all here, and +crept up quietly, not to disturb ye.' + +'Why don't you wear heels to your shoes like Christian people, and not +creep about so like a cat?' + +'Well, it keeps your floors clean to go slip-shod.' + +'That's true.' + +Meanwhile Anne was gently but firmly trying to pull Bob's arm from her +waist, her distressful difficulty being that in freeing her waist she +enslaved her hand, and in getting her hand free she enslaved her waist. +Finding the struggle a futile one, owing to the invisibility of her +antagonist, and her wish to keep its nature secret from the other two, +she arose, and saying that she did not care to see any more, felt her way +downstairs. Bob followed, leaving Loveday and his wife to themselves. + +'Dear Anne,' he began, when he had got down, and saw her in the candle- +light of the large room. But she adroitly passed out at the other door, +at which he took a candle and followed her to the small room. 'Dear +Anne, do let me speak,' he repeated, as soon as the rays revealed her +figure. But she passed into the bakehouse before he could say more; +whereupon he perseveringly did the same. Looking round for her here he +perceived her at the end of the room, where there were no means of exit +whatever. + +'Dear Anne,' he began again, setting down the candle, 'you must try to +forgive me; really you must. I love you the best of anybody in the wide, +wide world. Try to forgive me; come!' And he imploringly took her hand. + +Anne's bosom began to surge and fall like a small tide, her eyes +remaining fixed upon the floor; till, when Loveday ventured to draw her +slightly towards him, she burst out crying. 'I don't like you, Bob; I +don't!' she suddenly exclaimed between her sobs. 'I did once, but I +don't now--I can't, I can't; you have been very cruel to me!' She +violently turned away, weeping. + +'I have, I have been terribly bad, I know,' answered Bob, +conscience-stricken by her grief. 'But--if you could only forgive me--I +promise that I'll never do anything to grieve 'ee again. Do you forgive +me, Anne?' + +Anne's only reply was crying and shaking her head. + +'Let's make it up. Come, say we have made it up, dear.' + +She withdrew her hand, and still keeping her eyes buried in her +handkerchief, said 'No.' + +'Very well, then!' exclaimed Bob, with sudden determination. 'Now I know +my doom! And whatever you hear of as happening to me, mind this, you +cruel girl, that it is all your causing!' Saying this he strode with a +hasty tread across the room into the passage and out at the door, +slamming it loudly behind him. + +Anne suddenly looked up from her handkerchief, and stared with round wet +eyes and parted lips at the door by which he had gone. Having remained +with suspended breath in this attitude for a few seconds she turned +round, bent her head upon the table, and burst out weeping anew with +thrice the violence of the former time. It really seemed now as if her +grief would overwhelm her, all the emotions which had been suppressed, +bottled up, and concealed since Bob's return having made themselves a +sluice at last. + +But such things have their end; and left to herself in the large, vacant, +old apartment, she grew quieter, and at last calm. At length she took +the candle and ascended to her bedroom, where she bathed her eyes and +looked in the glass to see if she had made herself a dreadful object. It +was not so bad as she had expected, and she went downstairs again. + +Nobody was there, and, sitting down, she wondered what Bob had really +meant by his words. It was too dreadful to think that he intended to go +straight away to sea without seeing her again, and frightened at what she +had done she waited anxiously for his return. + + + + +XL. A CALL ON BUSINESS + + +Her suspense was interrupted by a very gentle tapping at the door, and +then the rustle of a hand over its surface, as if searching for the latch +in the dark. The door opened a few inches, and the alabaster face of +Uncle Benjy appeared in the slit. + +'O, Squire Derriman, you frighten me!' + +'All alone?' he asked in a whisper. + +'My mother and Mr. Loveday are somewhere about the house.' + +'That will do,' he said, coming forward. 'I be wherrited out of my life, +and I have thought of you again--you yourself, dear Anne, and not the +miller. If you will only take this and lock it up for a few days till I +can find another good place for it--if you only would!' And he +breathlessly deposited the tin box on the table. + +'What, obliged to dig it up from the cellar?' + +'Ay; my nephew hath a scent of the place--how, I don't know! but he and a +young woman he's met with are searching everywhere. I worked like a wire- +drawer to get it up and away while they were scraping in the next cellar. +Now where could ye put it, dear? 'Tis only a few documents, and my will, +and such like, you know. Poor soul o' me, I'm worn out with running and +fright!' + +'I'll put it here till I can think of a better place,' said Anne, lifting +the box. 'Dear me, how heavy it is!' + +'Yes, yes,' said Uncle Benjy hastily; 'the box is iron, you see. However, +take care of it, because I am going to make it worth your while. Ah, you +are a good girl, Anne. I wish you was mine!' + +Anne looked at Uncle Benjy. She had known for some time that she +possessed all the affection he had to bestow. + +'Why do you wish that?' she said simply. + +'Now don't ye argue with me. Where d'ye put the coffer?' + +'Here,' said Anne, going to the window-seat, which rose as a flap, +disclosing a boxed receptacle beneath, as in many old houses. + +''Tis very well for the present,' he said dubiously, and they dropped the +coffer in, Anne locking down the seat, and giving him the key. 'Now I +don't want ye to be on my side for nothing,' he went on. 'I never did +now, did I? This is for you.' He handed her a little packet of paper, +which Anne turned over and looked at curiously. 'I always meant to do +it,' continued Uncle Benjy, gazing at the packet as it lay in her hand, +and sighing. 'Come, open it, my dear; I always meant to do it!' + +She opened it and found twenty new guineas snugly packed within. + +'Yes, they are for you. I always meant to do it!' he said, sighing +again. + +'But you owe me nothing!' returned Anne, holding them out. + +'Don't say it!' cried Uncle Benjy, covering his eyes. 'Put 'em away. . . . +Well, if you _don't_ want 'em--But put 'em away, dear Anne; they are +for you, because you have kept my counsel. Good-night t'ye. Yes, they +are for you.' + +He went a few steps, and turning back added anxiously, 'You won't spend +'em in clothes, or waste 'em in fairings, or ornaments of any kind, my +dear girl?' + +'I will not,' said Anne. 'I wish you would have them.' + +'No, no,' said Uncle Benjy, rushing off to escape their shine. But he +had got no further than the passage when he returned again. + +'And you won't lend 'em to anybody, or put 'em into the bank--for no bank +is safe in these troublous times?. . . If I was you I'd keep them +_exactly_ as they be, and not spend 'em on any account. Shall I lock +them into my box for ye?' + +'Certainly,' said she; and the farmer rapidly unlocked the window-bench, +opened the box, and locked them in. + +''Tis much the best plan,' he said with great satisfaction as he returned +the keys to his pocket. 'There they will always be safe, you see, and +you won't be exposed to temptation.' + +When the old man had been gone a few minutes, the miller and his wife +came in, quite unconscious of all that had passed. Anne's anxiety about +Bob was again uppermost now, and she spoke but meagrely of old Derriman's +visit, and nothing of what he had left. She would fain have asked them +if they knew where Bob was, but that she did not wish to inform them of +the rupture. She was forced to admit to herself that she had somewhat +tried his patience, and that impulsive men had been known to do dark +things with themselves at such times. + +They sat down to supper, the clock ticked rapidly on, and at length the +miller said, 'Bob is later than usual. Where can he be?' + +As they both looked at her, she could no longer keep the secret. + +'It is my fault,' she cried; 'I have driven him away! What shall I do?' + +The nature of the quarrel was at once guessed, and her two elders said no +more. Anne rose and went to the front door, where she listened for every +sound with a palpitating heart. Then she went in; then she went out: and +on one occasion she heard the miller say, 'I wonder what hath passed +between Bob and Anne. I hope the chap will come home.' + +Just about this time light footsteps were heard without, and Bob bounced +into the passage. Anne, who stood back in the dark while he passed, +followed him into the room, where her mother and the miller were on the +point of retiring to bed, candle in hand. + +'I have kept ye up, I fear,' began Bob cheerily, and apparently without +the faintest recollection of his tragic exit from the house. 'But the +truth on't is, I met with Fess Derriman at the "Duke of York" as I went +from here, and there we have been playing Put ever since, not noticing +how the time was going. I haven't had a good chat with the fellow for +years and years, and really he is an out and out good comrade--a regular +hearty! Poor fellow, he's been very badly used. I never heard the +rights of the story till now; but it seems that old uncle of his treats +him shamefully. He has been hiding away his money, so that poor Fess +might not have a farthing, till at last the young man has turned, like +any other worm, and is now determined to ferret out what he has done with +it. The poor young chap hadn't a farthing of ready money till I lent him +a couple of guineas--a thing I never did more willingly in my life. But +the man was very honourable. "No; no," says he, "don't let me deprive +ye." He's going to marry, and what may you think he is going to do it +for?' + +'For love, I hope,' said Anne's mother. + +'For money, I suppose, since he's so short,' said the miller. + +'No,' said Bob, 'for _spite_. He has been badly served--deuced badly +served--by a woman. I never heard of a more heartless case in my life. +The poor chap wouldn't mention names, but it seems this young woman has +trifled with him in all manner of cruel ways--pushed him into the river, +tried to steal his horse when he was called out to defend his country--in +short, served him rascally. So I gave him the two guineas and said, "Now +let's drink to the hussy's downfall!"' + +'O!' said Anne, having approached behind him. + +Bob turned and saw her, and at the same moment Mr. and Mrs. Loveday +discreetly retired by the other door. + +'Is it peace?' he asked tenderly. + +'O yes,' she anxiously replied. 'I--didn't mean to make you think I had +no heart.' At this Bob inclined his countenance towards hers. 'No,' she +said, smiling through two incipient tears as she drew back. 'You are to +show good behaviour for six months, and you must promise not to frighten +me again by running off when I--show you how badly you have served me.' + +'I am yours obedient--in anything,' cried Bob. 'But am I pardoned?' + +Youth is foolish; and does a woman often let her reasoning in favour of +the worthier stand in the way of her perverse desire for the less worthy +at such times as these? She murmured some soft words, ending with 'Do +you repent?' + +It would be superfluous to transcribe Bob's answer. + +Footsteps were heard without. + +'O begad; I forgot!' said Bob. 'He's waiting out there for a light.' + +'Who?' + +'My friend Derriman.' + +'But, Bob, I have to explain.' + +But Festus had by this time entered the lobby, and Anne, with a hasty +'Get rid of him at once!' vanished upstairs. + +Here she waited and waited, but Festus did not seem inclined to depart; +and at last, foreboding some collision of interests from Bob's new +friendship for this man, she crept into a storeroom which was over the +apartment into which Loveday and Festus had gone. By looking through a +knot-hole in the floor it was easy to command a view of the room beneath, +this being unceiled, with moulded beams and rafters. + +Festus had sat down on the hollow window-bench, and was continuing the +statement of his wrongs. 'If he only knew what he was sitting upon,' she +thought apprehensively, 'how easily he could tear up the flap, lock and +all, with his strong arm, and seize upon poor Uncle Benjy's possessions!' +But he did not appear to know, unless he were acting, which was just +possible. After a while he rose, and going to the table lifted the +candle to light his pipe. At the moment when the flame began diving into +the bowl the door noiselessly opened and a figure slipped across the room +to the window-bench, hastily unlocked it, withdrew the box, and beat a +retreat. Anne in a moment recognized the ghostly intruder as Festus +Derriman's uncle. Before he could get out of the room Festus set down +the candle and turned. + +'What--Uncle Benjy--haw, haw! Here at this time of night?' + +Uncle Benjy's eyes grew paralyzed, and his mouth opened and shut like a +frog's in a drought, the action producing no sound. + +'What have we got here--a tin box--the box of boxes? Why, I'll carry it +for 'ee, uncle!--I am going home.' + +'N-no-no, thanky, Festus: it is n-n-not heavy at all, thanky,' gasped the +squireen. + +'O but I must,' said Festus, pulling at the box. + +'Don't let him have it, Bob!' screamed the excited Anne through the hole +in the floor. + +'No, don't let him!' cried the uncle. ''Tis a plot--there's a woman at +the window waiting to help him!' + +Anne's eyes flew to the window, and she saw Matilda's face pressed +against the pane. + +Bob, though he did not know whence Anne's command proceeded obeyed with +alacrity, pulled the box from the two relatives, and placed it on the +table beside him. + +'Now, look here, hearties; what's the meaning o' this?' he said. + +'He's trying to rob me of all I possess!' cried the old man. 'My heart- +strings seem as if they were going crack, crack, crack!' + +At this instant the miller in his shirt-sleeves entered the room, having +got thus far in his undressing when he heard the noise. Bob and Festus +turned to him to explain; and when the latter had had his say Bob added, +'Well, all I know is that this box'--here he stretched out his hand to +lay it upon the lid for emphasis. But as nothing but thin air met his +fingers where the box had been, he turned, and found that the box was +gone, Uncle Benjy having vanished also. + +Festus, with an imprecation, hastened to the door, but though the night +was not dark Farmer Derriman and his burden were nowhere to be seen. On +the bridge Festus joined a shadowy female form, and they went along the +road together, followed for some distance by Bob, lest they should meet +with and harm the old man. But the precaution was unnecessary: nowhere +on the road was there any sign of Farmer Derriman, or of the box that +belonged to him. When Bob re-entered the house Anne and Mrs. Loveday had +joined the miller downstairs, and then for the first time he learnt who +had been the heroine of Festus's lamentable story, with many other +particulars of that yeoman's history which he had never before known. Bob +swore that he would not speak to the traitor again, and the family +retired. + +The escape of old Mr. Derriman from the annoyances of his nephew not only +held good for that night, but for next day, and for ever. Just after +dawn on the following morning a labouring man, who was going to his work, +saw the old farmer and landowner leaning over a rail in a mead near his +house, apparently engaged in contemplating the water of a brook before +him. Drawing near, the man spoke, but Uncle Benjy did not reply. His +head was hanging strangely, his body being supported in its erect +position entirely by the rail that passed under each arm. On +after-examination it was found that Uncle Benjy's poor withered heart had +cracked and stopped its beating from damages inflicted on it by the +excitements of his life, and of the previous night in particular. The +unconscious carcass was little more than a light empty husk, dry and +fleshless as that of a dead heron found on a moor in January. + +But the tin box was not discovered with or near him. It was searched for +all the week, and all the month. The mill-pond was dragged, quarries +were examined, woods were threaded, rewards were offered; but in vain. + +At length one day in the spring, when the mill-house was about to be +cleaned throughout, the chimney-board of Anne's bedroom, concealing a +yawning fire-place, had to be taken down. In the chasm behind it stood +the missing deed-box of Farmer Derriman. + +Many were the conjectures as to how it had got there. Then Anne +remembered that on going to bed on the night of the collision between +Festus and his uncle in the room below, she had seen mud on the carpet of +her room, and the miller remembered that he had seen footprints on the +back staircase. The solution of the mystery seemed to be that the late +Uncle Benjy, instead of running off from the house with his box, had +doubled on getting out of the front door, entered at the back, deposited +his box in Anne's chamber where it was found, and then leisurely pursued +his way home at the heels of Festus, intending to tell Anne of his trick +the next day--an intention that was for ever frustrated by the stroke of +death. + +Mr. Derriman's solicitor was a Casterbridge man, and Anne placed the box +in his hands. Uncle Benjy's will was discovered within; and by this +testament Anne's queer old friend appointed her sole executrix of his +said will, and, more than that, gave and bequeathed to the same young +lady all his real and personal estate, with the solitary exception of +five small freehold houses in a back street in Budmouth, which were +devised to his nephew Festus, as a sufficient property to maintain him +decently, without affording any margin for extravagances. Oxwell Hall, +with its muddy quadrangle, archways, mullioned windows, cracked +battlements, and weed-grown garden, passed with the rest into the hands +of Anne. + + + + +XLI. JOHN MARCHES INTO THE NIGHT + + +During this exciting time John Loveday seldom or never appeared at the +mill. With the recall of Bob, in which he had been sole agent, his +mission seemed to be complete. + +One mid-day, before Anne had made any change in her manner of living on +account of her unexpected acquisition, Lieutenant Bob came in rather +suddenly. He had been to Budmouth, and announced to the arrested senses +of the family that the --th Dragoons were ordered to join Sir Arthur +Wellesley in the Peninsula. + +These tidings produced a great impression on the household. John had +been so long in the neighbourhood, either at camp or in barracks, that +they had almost forgotten the possibility of his being sent away; and +they now began to reflect upon the singular infrequency of his calls +since his brother's return. There was not much time, however, for +reflection, if they wished to make the most of John's farewell visit, +which was to be paid the same evening, the departure of the regiment +being fixed for next day. A hurried valedictory supper was prepared +during the afternoon, and shortly afterwards John arrived. + +He seemed to be more thoughtful and a trifle paler than of old, but +beyond these traces, which might have been due to the natural wear and +tear of time, he showed no signs of gloom. On his way through the town +that morning a curious little incident had occurred to him. He was +walking past one of the churches when a wedding-party came forth, the +bride and bridegroom being Matilda and Festus Derriman. At sight of the +trumpet-major the yeoman had glared triumphantly; Matilda, on her part, +had winked at him slily, as much as to say--. But what she meant heaven +knows: the trumpet-major did not trouble himself to think, and passed on +without returning the mark of confidence with which she had favoured him. + +Soon after John's arrival at the mill several of his friends dropped in +for the same purpose of bidding adieu. They were mostly the men who had +been entertained there on the occasion of the regiment's advent on the +down, when Anne and her mother were coaxed in to grace the party by their +superior presence; and their well-trained, gallant manners were such as +to make them interesting visitors now as at all times. For it was a +period when romance had not so greatly faded out of military life as it +has done in these days of short service, heterogeneous mixing, and +transient campaigns; when the esprit de corps was strong, and long +experience stamped noteworthy professional characteristics even on rank +and file; while the miller's visitors had the additional advantage of +being picked men. + +They could not stay so long to-night as on that earlier and more cheerful +occasion, and the final adieus were spoken at an early hour. It was no +mere playing at departure, as when they had gone to Exonbury barracks, +and there was a warm and prolonged shaking of hands all round. + +'You'll wish the poor fellows good-bye?' said Bob to Anne, who had not +come forward for that purpose like the rest. 'They are going away, and +would like to have your good word.' + +She then shyly advanced, and every man felt that he must make some pretty +speech as he shook her by the hand. + +'Good-bye! May you remember us as long as it makes ye happy, and forget +us as soon as it makes ye sad,' said Sergeant Brett. + +'Good-night! Health, wealth, and long life to ye!' said Sergeant-major +Wills, taking her hand from Brett. + +'I trust to meet ye again as the wife of a worthy man,' said Trumpeter +Buck. + +'We'll drink your health throughout the campaign, and so good-bye t'ye,' +said Saddler-sergeant Jones, raising her hand to his lips. + +Three others followed with similar remarks, to each of which Anne +blushingly replied as well as she could, wishing them a prosperous +voyage, easy conquest, and a speedy return. + +But, alas, for that! Battles and skirmishes, advances and retreats, +fevers and fatigues, told hard on Anne's gallant friends in the coming +time. Of the seven upon whom these wishes were bestowed, five, including +the trumpet-major, were dead men within the few following years, and +their bones left to moulder in the land of their campaigns. + +John lingered behind. When the others were outside, expressing a final +farewell to his father, Bob, and Mrs. Loveday, he came to Anne, who +remained within. + +'But I thought you were going to look in again before leaving?' she said +gently. + +'No; I find I cannot. Good-bye!' + +'John,' said Anne, holding his right hand in both hers, 'I must tell you +something. You were wise in not taking me at my word that day. I was +greatly mistaken about myself. Gratitude is not love, though I wanted to +make it so for the time. You don't call me thoughtless for what I did?' + +'My dear Anne,' cried John, with more gaiety than truthfulness, 'don't +let yourself be troubled! What happens is for the best. Soldiers love +here to-day and there to-morrow. Who knows that you won't hear of my +attentions to some Spanish maid before a month is gone by? 'Tis the way +of us, you know; a soldier's heart is not worth a week's purchase--ha, +ha! Goodbye, good-bye!' + +Anne felt the expediency of his manner, received the affectation as real, +and smiled her reply, not knowing that the adieu was for evermore. Then +with a tear in his eye he went out of the door, where he bade farewell to +the miller, Mrs. Loveday, and Bob, who said at parting, 'It's all right, +Jack, my dear fellow. After a coaxing that would have been enough to win +three ordinary Englishwomen, five French, and ten Mulotters, she has to- +day agreed to bestow her hand upon me at the end of six months. Good-bye, +Jack, good-bye!' + +The candle held by his father shed its waving light upon John's face and +uniform as with a farewell smile he turned on the doorstone, backed by +the black night; and in another moment he had plunged into the darkness, +the ring of his smart step dying away upon the bridge as he joined his +companions-in-arms, and went off to blow his trumpet till silenced for +ever upon one of the bloody battle-fields of Spain. + + + + +Footnotes: + + +{207} _Vide_ Preface. + +{211} _Vide_ Preface. + +{225} _Vide_ Preface. + +{272} _Vide_ Preface. + +{303} _Vide_ Preface. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRUMPET-MAJOR*** + + +******* This file should be named 2864.txt or 2864.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/6/2864 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.07.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset. + + + + + +THE TRUMPET-MAJOR +being a tale of the Trumpet-Major, John Loveday, a soldier in the +war with Buonaparte, and Robert, his brother, first mate in the +Merchant Service. + +by Thomas Hardy + + + + +PREFACE + +The present tale is founded more largely on testimony--oral and +written--than any other in this series. The external incidents +which direct its course are mostly an unexaggerated reproduction of +the recollections of old persons well known to the author in +childhood, but now long dead, who were eye-witnesses of those +scenes. If wholly transcribed their recollections would have filled +a volume thrice the length of 'The Trumpet-Major.' + +Down to the middle of this century, and later, there were not +wanting, in the neighbourhood of the places more or less clearly +indicated herein, casual relics of the circumstances amid which the +action moves--our preparations for defence against the threatened +invasion of England by Buonaparte. An outhouse door riddled with +bullet-holes, which had been extemporized by a solitary man as a +target for firelock practice when the landing was hourly expected, a +heap of bricks and clods on a beacon-hill, which had formed the +chimney and walls of the hut occupied by the beacon-keeper, +worm-eaten shafts and iron heads of pikes for the use of those who +had no better weapons, ridges on the down thrown up during the +encampment, fragments of volunteer uniform, and other such lingering +remains, brought to my imagination in early childhood the state of +affairs at the date of the war more vividly than volumes of history +could have done. + +Those who have attempted to construct a coherent narrative of past +times from the fragmentary information furnished by survivors, are +aware of the difficulty of ascertaining the true sequence of events +indiscriminately recalled. For this purpose the newspapers of the +date were indispensable. Of other documents consulted I may +mention, for the satisfaction of those who love a true story, that +the 'Address to all Ranks and Descriptions of Englishmen' was +transcribed from an original copy in a local museum; that the +hieroglyphic portrait of Napoleon existed as a print down to the +present day in an old woman's cottage near 'Overcombe;' that the +particulars of the King's doings at his favourite watering-place +were augmented by details from records of the time. The drilling +scene of the local militia received some additions from an account +given in so grave a work as Gifford's 'History of the Wars of the +French Revolution' (London, 1817). But on reference to the History +I find I was mistaken in supposing the account to be advanced as +authentic, or to refer to rural England. However, it does in a +large degree accord with the local traditions of such scenes that I +have heard recounted, times without number, and the system of drill +was tested by reference to the Army Regulations of 1801, and other +military handbooks. Almost the whole narrative of the supposed +landing of the French in the Bay is from oral relation as aforesaid. +Other proofs of the veracity of this chronicle have escaped my +recollection. + +T. H. + +OCTOBER 1895. + + + +CONTENTS + +I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DOWN +II. SOMEBODY KNOCKS AND COMES IN +III. THE MILL BECOMES AN IMPORTANT CENTRE OF OPERATIONS +IV. WHO WERE PRESENT AT THE MILLER'S LITTLE ENTERTAINMENT +V. THE SONG AND THE STRANGER +VI. OLD MR. DERRIMAN OF OXWELL HALL +VII. HOW THEY TALKED IN THE PASTURES +VIII. ANNE MAKES A CIRCUIT OF THE CAMP +IX. ANNE IS KINDLY FETCHED BY THE TRUMPET MAJOR +X. THE MATCH-MAKING VIRTUES OF A DOUBLE GARDEN +XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY +XII. HOW EVERYBODY, GREAT AND SMALL, CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE +DOWNS +XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD +XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY +XV. 'CAPTAIN' BOB LOVEDAY, OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE +XVI. THEY MAKE READY FOR THE ILLUSTRIOUS STRANGER +XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT +XVIII. THE NIGHT AFTER THE ARRIVAL +XIX. MISS JOHNSON'S BEHAVIOUR CAUSES NO LITTLE SURPRISE +XX. HOW THEY LESSENED THE EFFECT OF THE CALAMITY +XXI. 'UPON THE HILL HE TURNED' +XXII. THE TWO HOUSEHOLDS UNITED +XXIII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS ON AN EXTENDED SCALE +XXIV. A LETTER, A VISITOR, AND A TIN BOX +XXV. FESTUS SHOWS HIS LOVE +XXVI. THE ALARM +XXVII. DANGER TO ANNE +XXVIII. ANNIE DOES WONDERS +XXIX. A DISSEMBLER +XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL +XXXI. MIDNIGHT VISITORS +XXXII. DELIVERANCE +XXXIII. A DISCOVERY TURNS THE SCALE +XXXIV. A SPECK ON THE SEA +XXXV. A SAILOR ENTERS +XXXVI. DERRIMAN SEES CHANCES +XXXVII. REACTION +XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION +XXXIX. BOB LOVEDAY STRUTS UP AND DOWN +XL. A CALL ON BUSINESS +XLI. JOHN MARCHES INTO THE NIGHT + + + +I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DOWN + +In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the vast +amount of soldiering going on in the country was a cause of much +trembling to the sex, there lived in a village near the Wessex coast +two ladies of good report, though unfortunately of limited means. +The elder was a Mrs. Martha Garland, a landscape-painter's widow, +and the other was her only daughter Anne. + +Anne was fair, very fair, in a poetical sense; but in complexion she +was of that particular tint between blonde and brunette which is +inconveniently left without a name. Her eyes were honest and +inquiring, her mouth cleanly cut and yet not classical, the middle +point of her upper lip scarcely descending so far as it should have +done by rights, so that at the merest pleasant thought, not to +mention a smile, portions of two or three white teeth were uncovered +whether she would or not. Some people said that this was very +attractive. She was graceful and slender, and, though but little +above five feet in height, could draw herself up to look tall. In +her manner, in her comings and goings, in her 'I'll do this,' or +'I'll do that,' she combined dignity with sweetness as no other girl +could do; and any impressionable stranger youths who passed by were +led to yearn for a windfall of speech from her, and to see at the +same time that they would not get it. In short, beneath all that +was charming and simple in this young woman there lurked a real +firmness, unperceived at first, as the speck of colour lurks +unperceived in the heart of the palest parsley flower. + +She wore a white handkerchief to cover her white neck, and a cap on +her head with a pink ribbon round it, tied in a bow at the front. +She had a great variety of these cap-ribbons, the young men being +fond of sending them to her as presents until they fell definitely +in love with a special sweetheart elsewhere, when they left off +doing so. Between the border of her cap and her forehead were +ranged a row of round brown curls, like swallows' nests under eaves. + +She lived with her widowed mother in a portion of an ancient +building formerly a manor-house, but now a mill, which, being too +large for his own requirements, the miller had found it convenient +to divide and appropriate in part to these highly respectable +tenants. In this dwelling Mrs. Garland's and Anne's ears were +soothed morning, noon, and night by the music of the mill, the +wheels and cogs of which, being of wood, produced notes that might +have borne in their minds a remote resemblance to the wooden tones +of the stopped diapason in an organ. Occasionally, when the miller +was bolting, there was added to these continuous sounds the cheerful +clicking of the hopper, which did not deprive them of rest except +when it was kept going all night; and over and above all this they +had the pleasure of knowing that there crept in through every +crevice, door, and window of their dwelling, however tightly closed, +a subtle mist of superfine flour from the grinding room, quite +invisible, but making its presence known in the course of time by +giving a pallid and ghostly look to the best furniture. The miller +frequently apologized to his tenants for the intrusion of this +insidious dry fog; but the widow was of a friendly and thankful +nature, and she said that she did not mind it at all, being as it +was, not nasty dirt, but the blessed staff of life. + +By good-humour of this sort, and in other ways, Mrs. Garland +acknowledged her friendship for her neighbour, with whom Anne and +herself associated to an extent which she never could have +anticipated when, tempted by the lowness of the rent, they first +removed thither after her husband's death from a larger house at the +other end of the village. Those who have lived in remote places +where there is what is called no society will comprehend the gradual +levelling of distinctions that went on in this case at some +sacrifice of gentility on the part of one household. The widow was +sometimes sorry to find with what readiness Anne caught up some +dialect-word or accent from the miller and his friends; but he was +so good and true-hearted a man, and she so easy-minded, unambitious +a woman, that she would not make life a solitude for fastidious +reasons. More than all, she had good ground for thinking that the +miller secretly admired her, and this added a piquancy to the +situation. + + +On a fine summer morning, when the leaves were warm under the sun, +and the more industrious bees abroad, diving into every blue and red +cup that could possibly be considered a flower, Anne was sitting at +the back window of her mother's portion of the house, measuring out +lengths of worsted for a fringed rug that she was making, which lay, +about three-quarters finished, beside her. The work, though +chromatically brilliant, was tedious: a hearth-rug was a thing +which nobody worked at from morning to night; it was taken up and +put down; it was in the chair, on the floor, across the hand-rail, +under the bed, kicked here, kicked there, rolled away in the closet, +brought out again, and so on more capriciously perhaps than any +other home-made article. Nobody was expected to finish a rug within +a calculable period, and the wools of the beginning became faded and +historical before the end was reached. A sense of this inherent +nature of worsted-work rather than idleness led Anne to look rather +frequently from the open casement. + +Immediately before her was the large, smooth millpond, over-full, +and intruding into the hedge and into the road. The water, with its +flowing leaves and spots of froth, was stealing away, like Time, +under the dark arch, to tumble over the great slimy wheel within. +On the other side of the mill-pond was an open place called the +Cross, because it was three-quarters of one, two lanes and a +cattle-drive meeting there. It was the general rendezvous and arena +of the surrounding village. Behind this a steep slope rose high +into the sky, merging in a wide and open down, now littered with +sheep newly shorn. The upland by its height completely sheltered +the mill and village from north winds, making summers of springs, +reducing winters to autumn temperatures, and permitting myrtle to +flourish in the open air. + +The heaviness of noon pervaded the scene, and under its influence +the sheep had ceased to feed. Nobody was standing at the Cross, the +few inhabitants being indoors at their dinner. No human being was +on the down, and no human eye or interest but Anne's seemed to be +concerned with it. The bees still worked on, and the butterflies +did not rest from roving, their smallness seeming to shield them +from the stagnating effect that this turning moment of day had on +larger creatures. Otherwise all was still. + +The girl glanced at the down and the sheep for no particular reason; +the steep margin of turf and daisies rising above the roofs, +chimneys, apple-trees, and church tower of the hamlet around her, +bounded the view from her position, and it was necessary to look +somewhere when she raised her head. While thus engaged in working +and stopping her attention was attracted by the sudden rising and +running away of the sheep squatted on the down; and there succeeded +sounds of a heavy tramping over the hard sod which the sheep had +quitted, the tramp being accompanied by a metallic jingle. Turning +her eyes further she beheld two cavalry soldiers on bulky grey +chargers, armed and accoutred throughout, ascending the down at a +point to the left where the incline was comparatively easy. The +burnished chains, buckles, and plates of their trappings shone like +little looking-glasses, and the blue, red, and white about them was +unsubdued by weather or wear. + +The two troopers rode proudly on, as if nothing less than crowns and +empires ever concerned their magnificent minds. They reached that +part of the down which lay just in front of her, where they came to +a halt. In another minute there appeared behind them a group +containing some half-dozen more of the same sort. These came on, +halted, and dismounted likewise. + +Two of the soldiers then walked some distance onward together, when +one stood still, the other advancing further, and stretching a white +line of tape between them. Two more of the men marched to another +outlying point, where they made marks in the ground. Thus they +walked about and took distances, obviously according to some +preconcerted scheme. + +At the end of this systematic proceeding one solitary horseman--a +commissioned officer, if his uniform could be judged rightly at that +distance--rode up the down, went over the ground, looked at what the +others had done, and seemed to think that it was good. And then the +girl heard yet louder tramps and clankings, and she beheld rising +from where the others had risen a whole column of cavalry in +marching order. At a distance behind these came a cloud of dust +enveloping more and more troops, their arms and accoutrements +reflecting the sun through the haze in faint flashes, stars, and +streaks of light. The whole body approached slowly towards the +plateau at the top of the down. + +Anne threw down her work, and letting her eyes remain on the nearing +masses of cavalry, the worsteds getting entangled as they would, +said, 'Mother, mother; come here! Here's such a fine sight! What +does it mean? What can they be going to do up there?' + +The mother thus invoked ran upstairs and came forward to the window. +She was a woman of sanguine mouth and eye, unheroic manner, and +pleasant general appearance; a little more tarnished as to surface, +but not much worse in contour than the girl herself. + +Widow Garland's thoughts were those of the period. 'Can it be the +French,' she said, arranging herself for the extremest form of +consternation. 'Can that arch-enemy of mankind have landed at +last?' It should be stated that at this time there were two +arch-enemies of mankind--Satan as usual, and Buonaparte, who had +sprung up and eclipsed his elder rival altogether. Mrs. Garland +alluded, of course, to the junior gentleman. + +'It cannot be he,' said Anne. 'Ah! there's Simon Burden, the man +who watches at the beacon. He'll know!' + +She waved her hand to an aged form of the same colour as the road, +who had just appeared beyond the mill-pond, and who, though active, +was bowed to that degree which almost reproaches a feeling observer +for standing upright. The arrival of the soldiery had drawn him out +from his drop of drink at the 'Duke of York' as it had attracted +Anne. At her call he crossed the mill-bridge, and came towards the +window. + +Anne inquired of him what it all meant; but Simon Burden, without +answering, continued to move on with parted gums, staring at the +cavalry on his own private account with a concern that people often +show about temporal phenomena when such matters can affect them but +a short time longer. 'You'll walk into the millpond!' said Anne. +'What are they doing? You were a soldier many years ago, and ought +to know.' + +'Don't ask me, Mis'ess Anne,' said the military relic, depositing +his body against the wall one limb at a time. 'I were only in the +foot, ye know, and never had a clear understanding of horses. Ay, I +be a old man, and of no judgment now.' Some additional pressure, +however, caused him to search further in his worm-eaten magazine of +ideas, and he found that he did know in a dim irresponsible way. +The soldiers must have come there to camp: those men they had seen +first were the markers: they had come on before the rest to measure +out the ground. He who had accompanied them was the quartermaster. +'And so you see they have got all the lines marked out by the time +the regiment have come up,' he added. 'And then they will-- +well-a-deary! who'd ha' supposed that Overcombe would see such a day +as this!' + +'And then they will--' + +'Then-- Ah, it's gone from me again!' said Simon. 'O, and then they +will raise their tents, you know, and picket their horses. That was +it; so it was.' + +By this time the column of horse had ascended into full view, and +they formed a lively spectacle as they rode along the high ground in +marching order, backed by the pale blue sky, and lit by the +southerly sun. Their uniform was bright and attractive; white +buckskin pantaloons, three-quarter boots, scarlet shakos set off +with lace, mustachios waxed to a needle point; and above all, those +richly ornamented blue jackets mantled with the historic pelisse-- +that fascination to women, and encumbrance to the wearers +themselves. + +''Tis the York Hussars!' said Simon Burden, brightening like a dying +ember fanned. 'Foreigners to a man, and enrolled long since my +time. But as good hearty comrades, they say, as you'll find in the +King's service.' + +'Here are more and different ones,' said Mrs. Garland. + +Other troops had, during the last few minutes, been ascending the +down at a remoter point, and now drew near. These were of different +weight and build from the others; lighter men, in helmet hats, with +white plumes. + +'I don't know which I like best,' said Anne. 'These, I think, after +all.' + +Simon, who had been looking hard at the latter, now said that they +were the --th Dragoons. + +'All Englishmen they,' said the old man. 'They lay at Budmouth +barracks a few years ago.' + +'They did. I remember it,' said Mrs. Garland. + +'And lots of the chaps about here 'listed at the time,' said Simon. +'I can call to mind that there was--ah, 'tis gone from me again! +However, all that's of little account now.' + +The dragoons passed in front of the lookers-on as the others had +done, and their gay plumes, which had hung lazily during the ascent, +swung to northward as they reached the top, showing that on the +summit a fresh breeze blew. 'But look across there,' said Anne. +There had entered upon the down from another direction several +battalions of foot, in white kerseymere breeches and cloth gaiters. +They seemed to be weary from a long march, the original black of +their gaiters and boots being whity-brown with dust. Presently came +regimental waggons, and the private canteen carts which followed at +the end of a convoy. + +The space in front of the mill-pond was now occupied by nearly all +the inhabitants of the village, who had turned out in alarm, and +remained for pleasure, their eyes lighted up with interest in what +they saw; for trappings and regimentals, war horses and men, in +towns an attraction, were here almost a sublimity. + +The troops filed to their lines, dismounted, and in quick time took +off their accoutrements, rolled up their sheep-skins, picketed and +unbitted their horses, and made ready to erect the tents as soon as +they could be taken from the waggons and brought forward. When this +was done, at a given signal the canvases flew up from the sod; and +thenceforth every man had a place in which to lay his head. + +Though nobody seemed to be looking on but the few at the window and +in the village street, there were, as a matter of fact, many eyes +converging upon that military arrival in its high and conspicuous +position, not to mention the glances of birds and other wild +creatures. Men in distant gardens, women in orchards and at +cottage-doors, shepherds on remote hills, turnip-hoers in blue-green +enclosures miles away, captains with spy-glasses out at sea, were +regarding the picture keenly. Those three or four thousand men of +one machine-like movement, some of them swashbucklers by nature; +others, doubtless, of a quiet shop-keeping disposition who had +inadvertently got into uniform--all of them had arrived from nobody +knew where, and hence were matter of great curiosity. They seemed +to the mere eye to belong to a different order of beings from those +who inhabited the valleys below. Apparently unconscious and +careless of what all the world was doing elsewhere, they remained +picturesquely engrossed in the business of making themselves a +habitation on the isolated spot which they had chosen. + +Mrs. Garland was of a festive and sanguine turn of mind, a woman +soon set up and soon set down, and the coming of the regiments quite +excited her. She thought there was reason for putting on her best +cap, thought that perhaps there was not; that she would hurry on the +dinner and go out in the afternoon; then that she would, after all, +do nothing unusual, nor show any silly excitements whatever, since +they were unbecoming in a mother and a widow. Thus circumscribing +her intentions till she was toned down to an ordinary person of +forty, Mrs. Garland accompanied her daughter downstairs to dine, +saying, 'Presently we will call on Miller Loveday, and hear what he +thinks of it all.' + + + +II. SOMEBODY KNOCKS AND COMES IN + +Miller Loveday was the representative of an ancient family of +corn-grinders whose history is lost in the mists of antiquity. His +ancestral line was contemporaneous with that of De Ros, Howard, and +De La Zouche; but, owing to some trifling deficiency in the +possessions of the house of Loveday, the individual names and +intermarriages of its members were not recorded during the Middle +Ages, and thus their private lives in any given century were +uncertain. But it was known that the family had formed matrimonial +alliances with farmers not so very small, and once with a gentleman- +tanner, who had for many years purchased after their death the +horses of the most aristocratic persons in the county--fiery steeds +that earlier in their career had been valued at many hundred +guineas. + +It was also ascertained that Mr. Loveday's great-grandparents had +been eight in number, and his great-great-grandparents sixteen, +every one of whom reached to years of discretion: at every stage +backwards his sires and gammers thus doubled and doubled till they +became a vast body of Gothic ladies and gentlemen of the rank known +as ceorls or villeins, full of importance to the country at large, +and ramifying throughout the unwritten history of England. His +immediate father had greatly improved the value of their residence +by building a new chimney, and setting up an additional pair of +millstones. + +Overcombe Mill presented at one end the appearance of a hard-worked +house slipping into the river, and at the other of an idle, genteel +place, half-cloaked with creepers at this time of the year, and +having no visible connexion with flour. It had hips instead of +gables, giving it a round-shouldered look, four chimneys with no +smoke coming out of them, two zigzag cracks in the wall, several +open windows, with a looking-glass here and there inside, showing +its warped back to the passer-by; snowy dimity curtains waving in +the draught; two mill doors, one above the other, the upper enabling +a person to step out upon nothing at a height of ten feet from the +ground; a gaping arch vomiting the river, and a lean, long-nosed +fellow looking out from the mill doorway, who was the hired grinder, +except when a bulging fifteen stone man occupied the same place, +namely, the miller himself. + +Behind the mill door, and invisible to the mere wayfarer who did not +visit the family, were chalked addition and subtraction sums, many +of them originally done wrong, and the figures half rubbed out and +corrected, noughts being turned into nines, and ones into twos. +These were the miller's private calculations. There were also +chalked in the same place rows and rows of strokes like open +palings, representing the calculations of the grinder, who in his +youthful ciphering studies had not gone so far as Arabic figures. + +In the court in front were two worn-out millstones, made useful +again by being let in level with the ground. Here people stood to +smoke and consider things in muddy weather; and cats slept on the +clean surfaces when it was hot. In the large stubbard-tree at the +corner of the garden was erected a pole of larch fir, which the +miller had bought with others at a sale of small timber in Damer's +Wood one Christmas week. It rose from the upper boughs of the tree +to about the height of a fisherman's mast, and on the top was a vane +in the form of a sailor with his arm stretched out. When the sun +shone upon this figure it could be seen that the greater part of his +countenance was gone, and the paint washed from his body so far as +to reveal that he had been a soldier in red before he became a +sailor in blue. The image had, in fact, been John, one of our +coming characters, and was then turned into Robert, another of them. +This revolving piece of statuary could not, however, be relied on as +a vane, owing to the neighbouring hill, which formed variable +currents in the wind. + +The leafy and quieter wing of the mill-house was the part occupied +by Mrs. Garland and her daughter, who made up in summer-time for the +narrowness of their quarters by overflowing into the garden on +stools and chairs. The parlour or dining-room had a stone floor--a +fact which the widow sought to disguise by double carpeting, lest +the standing of Anne and herself should be lowered in the public +eye. Here now the mid-day meal went lightly and mincingly on, as it +does where there is no greedy carnivorous man to keep the dishes +about, and was hanging on the close when somebody entered the +passage as far as the chink of the parlour door, and tapped. This +proceeding was probably adopted to kindly avoid giving trouble to +Susan, the neighbour's pink daughter, who helped at Mrs. Garland's +in the mornings, but was at that moment particularly occupied in +standing on the water-butt and gazing at the soldiers, with an +inhaling position of the mouth and circular eyes. + +There was a flutter in the little dining-room--the sensitiveness of +habitual solitude makes hearts beat for preternaturally small +reasons--and a guessing as to who the visitor might be. It was some +military gentleman from the camp perhaps? No; that was impossible. +It was the parson? No; he would not come at dinner-time. It was +the well-informed man who travelled with drapery and the best +Birmingham earrings? Not at all; his time was not till Thursday at +three. Before they could think further the visitor moved forward +another step, and the diners got a glimpse of him through the same +friendly chink that had afforded him a view of the Garland +dinner-table. + +'O! It is only Loveday.' + +This approximation to nobody was the miller above mentioned, a hale +man of fifty-five or sixty--hale all through, as many were in those +days, and not merely veneered with purple by exhilarating victuals +and drinks, though the latter were not at all despised by him. His +face was indeed rather pale than otherwise, for he had just come +from the mill. It was capable of immense changes of expression: +mobility was its essence, a roll of flesh forming a buttress to his +nose on each side, and a deep ravine lying between his lower lip and +the tumulus represented by his chin. These fleshy lumps moved +stealthily, as if of their own accord, whenever his fancy was +tickled. + +His eyes having lighted on the table-cloth, plates, and viands, he +found himself in a position which had a sensible awkwardness for a +modest man who always liked to enter only at seasonable times the +presence of a girl of such pleasantly soft ways as Anne Garland, she +who could make apples seem like peaches, and throw over her +shillings the glamour of guineas when she paid him for flour. + +'Dinner is over, neighbour Loveday; please come in,' said the widow, +seeing his case. The miller said something about coming in +presently; but Anne pressed him to stay, with a tender motion of her +lip as it played on the verge of a solicitous smile without quite +lapsing into one--her habitual manner when speaking. + +Loveday took off his low-crowned hat and advanced. He had not come +about pigs or fowls this time. 'You have been looking out, like the +rest o' us, no doubt, Mrs. Garland, at the mampus of soldiers that +have come upon the down? Well, one of the horse regiments is the -- +th Dragoons, my son John's regiment, you know.' + +The announcement, though it interested them, did not create such an +effect as the father of John had seemed to anticipate; but Anne, who +liked to say pleasant things, replied, 'The dragoons looked nicer +than the foot, or the German cavalry either.' + +'They are a handsome body of men,' said the miller in a +disinterested voice. 'Faith! I didn't know they were coming, though +it may be in the newspaper all the time. But old Derriman keeps it +so long that we never know things till they be in everybody's +mouth.' + +This Derriman was a squireen living near, who was chiefly +distinguished in the present warlike time by having a nephew in the +yeomanry. + +'We were told that the yeomanry went along the turnpike road +yesterday,' said Anne; 'and they say that they were a pretty sight, +and quite soldierly.' + +'Ah! well--they be not regulars,' said Miller Loveday, keeping back +harsher criticism as uncalled for. But inflamed by the arrival of +the dragoons, which had been the exciting cause of his call, his +mind would not go to yeomanry. 'John has not been home these five +years,' he said. + +'And what rank does he hold now?' said the widow. + +'He's trumpet-major, ma'am; and a good musician.' The miller, who +was a good father, went on to explain that John had seen some +service, too. He had enlisted when the regiment was lying in this +neighbourhood, more than eleven years before, which put his father +out of temper with him, as he had wished him to follow on at the +mill. But as the lad had enlisted seriously, and as he had often +said that he would be a soldier, the miller had thought that he +would let Jack take his chance in the profession of his choice. + +Loveday had two sons, and the second was now brought into the +conversation by a remark of Anne's that neither of them seemed to +care for the miller's business. + +'No,' said Loveday in a less buoyant tone. 'Robert, you see, must +needs go to sea.' + +'He is much younger than his brother?' said Mrs. Garland. + +About four years, the miller told her. His soldier son was +two-and-thirty, and Bob was twenty-eight. When Bob returned from +his present voyage, he was to be persuaded to stay and assist as +grinder in the mill, and go to sea no more. + +'A sailor-miller!' said Anne. + +'O, he knows as much about mill business as I do,' said Loveday; 'he +was intended for it, you know, like John. But, bless me!' he +continued, 'I am before my story. I'm come more particularly to ask +you, ma'am, and you, Anne my honey, if you will join me and a few +friends at a leetle homely supper that I shall gi'e to please the +chap now he's come? I can do no less than have a bit of a randy, as +the saying is, now that he's here safe and sound.' + +Mrs. Garland wanted to catch her daughter's eye; she was in some +doubt about her answer. But Anne's eye was not to be caught, for +she hated hints, nods, and calculations of any kind in matters which +should be regulated by impulse; and the matron replied, 'If so be +'tis possible, we'll be there. You will tell us the day?' + +He would, as soon as he had seen son John. ''Twill be rather +untidy, you know, owing to my having no womenfolks in the house; and +my man David is a poor dunder-headed feller for getting up a feast. +Poor chap! his sight is bad, that's true, and he's very good at +making the beds, and oiling the legs of the chairs and other +furniture, or I should have got rid of him years ago.' + +'You should have a woman to attend to the house, Loveday,' said the +widow. + +'Yes, I should, but--. Well, 'tis a fine day, neighbours. Hark! I +fancy I hear the noise of pots and pans up at the camp, or my ears +deceive me. Poor fellows, they must be hungry! Good day t'ye, +ma'am.' And the miller went away. + +All that afternoon Overcombe continued in a ferment of interest in +the military investment, which brought the excitement of an invasion +without the strife. There were great discussions on the merits and +appearance of the soldiery. The event opened up, to the girls +unbounded possibilities of adoring and being adored, and to the +young men an embarrassment of dashing acquaintances which quite +superseded falling in love. Thirteen of these lads incontinently +stated within the space of a quarter of an hour that there was +nothing in the world like going for a soldier. The young women +stated little, but perhaps thought the more; though, in justice, +they glanced round towards the encampment from the corners of their +blue and brown eyes in the most demure and modest manner that could +be desired. + +In the evening the village was lively with soldiers' wives; a tree +full of starlings would not have rivalled the chatter that was going +on. These ladies were very brilliantly dressed, with more regard +for colour than for material. Purple, red, and blue bonnets were +numerous, with bunches of cocks' feathers; and one had on an +Arcadian hat of green sarcenet, turned up in front to show her cap +underneath. It had once belonged to an officer's lady, and was not +so much stained, except where the occasional storms of rain, +incidental to a military life, had caused the green to run and +stagnate in curious watermarks like peninsulas and islands. Some of +the prettiest of these butterfly wives had been fortunate enough to +get lodgings in the cottages, and were thus spared the necessity of +living in huts and tents on the down. Those who had not been so +fortunate were not rendered more amiable by the success of their +sisters-in-arms, and called them names which brought forth retorts +and rejoinders; till the end of these alternative remarks seemed +dependent upon the close of the day. + +One of these new arrivals, who had a rosy nose and a slight +thickness of voice, which, as Anne said, she couldn't help, poor +thing, seemed to have seen so much of the world, and to have been in +so many campaigns, that Anne would have liked to take her into their +own house, so as to acquire some of that practical knowledge of the +history of England which the lady possessed, and which could not be +got from books. But the narrowness of Mrs. Garland's rooms +absolutely forbade this, and the houseless treasury of experience +was obliged to look for quarters elsewhere. + +That night Anne retired early to bed. The events of the day, +cheerful as they were in themselves, had been unusual enough to give +her a slight headache. Before getting into bed she went to the +window, and lifted the white curtains that hung across it. The moon +was shining, though not as yet into the valley, but just peeping +above the ridge of the down, where the white cones of the encampment +were softly touched by its light. The quarter-guard and foremost +tents showed themselves prominently; but the body of the camp, the +officers' tents, kitchens, canteen, and appurtenances in the rear +were blotted out by the ground, because of its height above her. +She could discern the forms of one or two sentries moving to and fro +across the disc of the moon at intervals. She could hear the +frequent shuffling and tossing of the horses tied to the pickets; +and in the other direction the miles-long voice of the sea, +whispering a louder note at those points of its length where +hampered in its ebb and flow by some jutting promontory or group of +boulders. Louder sounds suddenly broke this approach to silence; +they came from the camp of dragoons, were taken up further to the +right by the camp of the Hanoverians, and further on still by the +body of infantry. It was tattoo. Feeling no desire to sleep, she +listened yet longer, looked at Charles's Wain swinging over the +church tower, and the moon ascending higher and higher over the +right-hand streets of tents, where, instead of parade and bustle, +there was nothing going on but snores and dreams, the tired soldiers +lying by this time under their proper canvases, radiating like +spokes from the pole of each tent. + +At last Anne gave up thinking, and retired like the rest. The night +wore on, and, except the occasional 'All's well' of the sentries, no +voice was heard in the camp or in the village below. + + + +III. THE MILL BECOMES AN IMPORTANT CENTRE OF OPERATIONS + +The next morning Miss Garland awoke with an impression that +something more than usual was going on, and she recognized as soon +as she could clearly reason that the proceedings, whatever they +might be, lay not far away from her bedroom window. The sounds were +chiefly those of pickaxes and shovels. Anne got up, and, lifting +the corner of the curtain about an inch, peeped out. + +A number of soldiers were busily engaged in making a zigzag path +down the incline from the camp to the river-head at the back of the +house, and judging from the quantity of work already got through +they must have begun very early. Squads of men were working at +several equidistant points in the proposed pathway, and by the time +that Anne had dressed herself each section of the length had been +connected with those above and below it, so that a continuous and +easy track was formed from the crest of the down to the bottom of +the steep. + +The down rested on a bed of solid chalk, and the surface exposed by +the roadmakers formed a white ribbon, serpenting from top to bottom. + +Then the relays of working soldiers all disappeared, and, not long +after, a troop of dragoons in watering order rode forward at the top +and began to wind down the new path. They came lower and closer, +and at last were immediately beneath her window, gathering +themselves up on the space by the mill-pond. A number of the horses +entered it at the shallow part, drinking and splashing and tossing +about. Perhaps as many as thirty, half of them with riders on their +backs, were in the water at one time; the thirsty animals drank, +stamped, flounced, and drank again, letting the clear, cool water +dribble luxuriously from their mouths. Miller Loveday was looking +on from over his garden hedge, and many admiring villagers were +gathered around. + +Gazing up higher, Anne saw other troops descending by the new road +from the camp, those which had already been to the pond making room +for these by withdrawing along the village lane and returning to the +top by a circuitous route. + +Suddenly the miller exclaimed, as in fulfilment of expectation, 'Ah, +John, my boy; good morning!' And the reply of 'Morning, father,' +came from a well-mounted soldier near him, who did not, however, +form one of the watering party. Anne could not see his face very +clearly, but she had no doubt that this was John Loveday. + +There were tones in the voice which reminded her of old times, those +of her very infancy, when Johnny Loveday had been top boy in the +village school, and had wanted to learn painting of her father. The +deeps and shallows of the mill-pond being better known to him than +to any other man in the camp, he had apparently come down on that +account, and was cautioning some of the horsemen against riding too +far in towards the mill-head. + +Since her childhood and his enlistment Anne had seen him only once, +and then but casually, when he was home on a short furlough. His +figure was not much changed from what it had been; but the many +sunrises and sunsets which had passed since that day, developing her +from a comparative child to womanhood, had abstracted some of his +angularities, reddened his skin, and given him a foreign look. It +was interesting to see what years of training and service had done +for this man. Few would have supposed that the white and the blue +coats of miller and soldier covered the forms of father and son. + +Before the last troop of dragoons rode off they were welcomed in a +body by Miller Loveday, who still stood in his outer garden, this +being a plot lying below the mill-tail, and stretching to the +water-side. It was just the time of year when cherries are ripe, +and hang in clusters under their dark leaves. While the troopers +loitered on their horses, and chatted to the miller across the +stream, he gathered bunches of the fruit, and held them up over the +garden hedge for the acceptance of anybody who would have them; +whereupon the soldiers rode into the water to where it had washed +holes in the garden bank, and, reining their horses there, caught +the cherries in their forage-caps, or received bunches of them on +the ends of their switches, with the dignified laugh that became +martial men when stooping to slightly boyish amusement. It was a +cheerful, careless, unpremeditated half-hour, which returned like +the scent of a flower to the memories of some of those who enjoyed +it, even at a distance of many years after, when they lay wounded +and weak in foreign lands. + +Then dragoons and horses wheeled off as the others had done; and +troops of the German Legion next came down and entered in panoramic +procession the space below Anne's eyes, as if on purpose to gratify +her. These were notable by their mustachios, and queues wound +tightly with brown ribbon to the level of their broad +shoulder-blades. They were charmed, as the others had been, by the +head and neck of Miss Garland in the little square window +overlooking the scene of operations, and saluted her with devoted +foreign civility, and in such overwhelming numbers that the modest +girl suddenly withdrew herself into the room, and had a private +blush between the chest of drawers and the washing-stand. + +When she came downstairs her mother said, 'I have been thinking what +I ought to wear to Miller Loveday's to-night.' + +'To Miller Loveday's?' said Anne. + +'Yes. The party is to-night. He has been in here this morning to +tell me that he has seen his son, and they have fixed this evening.' + +'Do you think we ought to go, mother?' said Anne slowly, and looking +at the smaller features of the window-flowers. + +'Why not?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'He will only have men there except ourselves, will he? And shall +we be right to go alone among 'em?' + +Anne had not recovered from the ardent gaze of the gallant York +Hussars, whose voices reached her even now in converse with Loveday. + +'La, Anne, how proud you are!' said Widow Garland. 'Why, isn't he +our nearest neighbour and our landlord? and don't he always fetch +our faggots from the wood, and keep us in vegetables for next to +nothing?' + +'That's true,' said Anne. + +'Well, we can't be distant with the man. And if the enemy land next +autumn, as everybody says they will, we shall have quite to depend +upon the miller's waggon and horses. He's our only friend.' + +'Yes, so he is,' said Anne. 'And you had better go, mother; and +I'll stay at home. They will be all men; and I don't like going.' + +Mrs. Garland reflected. 'Well, if you don't want to go, I don't,' +she said. 'Perhaps, as you are growing up, it would be better to +stay at home this time. Your father was a professional man, +certainly.' Having spoken as a mother, she sighed as a woman. + +'Why do you sigh, mother?' + +'You are so prim and stiff about everything.' + +'Very well--we'll go.' + +'O no--I am not sure that we ought. I did not promise, and there +will be no trouble in keeping away.' + +Anne apparently did not feel certain of her own opinion, and, +instead of supporting or contradicting, looked thoughtfully down, +and abstractedly brought her hands together on her bosom, till her +fingers met tip to tip. + +As the day advanced the young woman and her mother became aware that +great preparations were in progress in the miller's wing of the +house. The partitioning between the Lovedays and the Garlands was +not very thorough, consisting in many cases of a simple screwing up +of the doors in the dividing walls; and thus when the mill began any +new performances they proclaimed themselves at once in the more +private dwelling. The smell of Miller Loveday's pipe came down Mrs. +Garland's chimney of an evening with the greatest regularity. Every +time that he poked his fire they knew from the vehemence or +deliberateness of the blows the precise state of his mind; and when +he wound his clock on Sunday nights the whirr of that monitor +reminded the widow to wind hers. This transit of noises was most +perfect where Loveday's lobby adjoined Mrs. Garland's pantry; and +Anne, who was occupied for some time in the latter apartment, +enjoyed the privilege of hearing the visitors arrive and of catching +stray sounds and words without the connecting phrases that made them +entertaining, to judge from the laughter they evoked. The arrivals +passed through the house and went into the garden, where they had +tea in a large summer-house, an occasional blink of bright colour, +through the foliage, being all that was visible of the assembly from +Mrs. Garland's windows. When it grew dusk they all could be heard +coming indoors to finish the evening in the parlour. + +Then there was an intensified continuation of the above-mentioned +signs of enjoyment, talkings and haw-haws, runnings upstairs and +runnings down, a slamming of doors and a clinking of cups and +glasses; till the proudest adjoining tenant without friends on his +own side of the partition might have been tempted to wish for +entrance to that merry dwelling, if only to know the cause of these +fluctuations of hilarity, and to see if the guests were really so +numerous, and the observations so very amusing as they seemed. + +The stagnation of life on the Garland side of the party-wall began +to have a very gloomy effect by the contrast. When, about half-past +nine o'clock, one of these tantalizing bursts of gaiety had +resounded for a longer time than usual, Anne said, 'I believe, +mother, that you are wishing you had gone.' + +'I own to feeling that it would have been very cheerful if we had +joined in,' said Mrs. Garland, in a hankering tone. 'I was rather +too nice in listening to you and not going. The parson never calls +upon us except in his spiritual capacity. Old Derriman is hardly +genteel; and there's nobody left to speak to. Lonely people must +accept what company they can get.' + +'Or do without it altogether.' + +'That's not natural, Anne; and I am surprised to hear a young woman +like you say such a thing. Nature will not be stifled in that way. +. . .' (Song and powerful chorus heard through partition.) 'I +declare the room on the other side of the wall seems quite a +paradise compared with this.' + +'Mother, you are quite a girl,' said Anne in slightly superior +accents. 'Go in and join them by all means.' + +'O no--not now,' said her mother, resignedly shaking her head. 'It +is too late now. We ought to have taken advantage of the +invitation. They would look hard at me as a poor mortal who had no +real business there, and the miller would say, with his broad smile, +"Ah, you be obliged to come round."' + +While the sociable and unaspiring Mrs. Garland continued thus to +pass the evening in two places, her body in her own house and her +mind in the miller's, somebody knocked at the door, and directly +after the elder Loveday himself was admitted to the room. He was +dressed in a suit between grand and gay, which he used for such +occasions as the present, and his blue coat, yellow and red +waistcoat with the three lower buttons unfastened, steel-buckled +shoes and speckled stockings, became him very well in Mrs. Martha +Garland's eyes. + +'Your servant, ma'am,' said the miller, adopting as a matter of +propriety the raised standard of politeness required by his higher +costume. 'Now, begging your pardon, I can't hae this. 'Tis +unnatural that you two ladies should be biding here and we under the +same roof making merry without ye. Your husband, poor man--lovely +picters that a' would make to be sure--would have been in with us +long ago if he had been in your place. I can take no nay from ye, +upon my honour. You and maidy Anne must come in, if it be only for +half-an-hour. John and his friends have got passes till twelve +o'clock to-night, and, saving a few of our own village folk, the +lowest visitor present is a very genteel German corporal. If you +should hae any misgivings on the score of respectability, ma'am, +we'll pack off the underbred ones into the back kitchen.' + +Widow Garland and Anne looked yes at each other after this appeal. + +'We'll follow you in a few minutes,' said the elder, smiling; and +she rose with Anne to go upstairs. + +'No, I'll wait for ye,' said the miller doggedly; 'or perhaps you'll +alter your mind again.' + +While the mother and daughter were upstairs dressing, and saying +laughingly to each other, 'Well, we must go now,' as if they hadn't +wished to go all the evening, other steps were heard in the passage; +and the miller cried from below, 'Your pardon, Mrs. Garland; but my +son John has come to help fetch ye. Shall I ask him in till ye be +ready?' + +'Certainly; I shall be down in a minute,' screamed Anne's mother in +a slanting voice towards the staircase. + +When she descended, the outline of the trumpet-major appeared +half-way down the passage. 'This is John,' said the miller simply. +'John, you can mind Mrs. Martha Garland very well?' + +'Very well, indeed,' said the dragoon, coming in a little further. +'I should have called to see her last time, but I was only home a +week. How is your little girl, ma'am?' + +Mrs. Garland said Anne was quite well. 'She is grown-up now. She +will be down in a moment.' + +There was a slight noise of military heels without the door, at +which the trumpet-major went and put his head outside, and said, +'All right--coming in a minute,' when voices in the darkness +replied, 'No hurry.' + +'More friends?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'O, it is only Buck and Jones come to fetch me,' said the soldier. +'Shall I ask 'em in a minute, Mrs Garland, ma'am?' + +'O yes,' said the lady; and the two interesting forms of Trumpeter +Buck and Saddler-sergeant Jones then came forward in the most +friendly manner; whereupon other steps were heard without, and it +was discovered that Sergeant-master-tailor Brett and Farrier- +extraordinary Johnson were outside, having come to fetch Messrs. +Buck and Jones, as Buck and Jones had come to fetch the +trumpet-major. + +As there seemed a possibility of Mrs. Garland's small passage being +choked up with human figures personally unknown to her, she was +relieved to hear Anne coming downstairs. + +'Here's my little girl,' said Mrs. Garland, and the trumpet-major +looked with a sort of awe upon the muslin apparition who came +forward, and stood quite dumb before her. Anne recognized him as +the trooper she had seen from her window, and welcomed him kindly. +There was something in his honest face which made her feel instantly +at home with him. + +At this frankness of manner Loveday--who was not a ladies' man-- +blushed, and made some alteration in his bodily posture, began a +sentence which had no end, and showed quite a boy's embarrassment. +Recovering himself, he politely offered his arm, which Anne took +with a very pretty grace. He conducted her through his comrades, +who glued themselves perpendicularly to the wall to let her pass, +and then they went out of the door, her mother following with the +miller, and supported by the body of troopers, the latter walking +with the usual cavalry gait, as if their thighs were rather too long +for them. Thus they crossed the threshold of the mill-house and up +the passage, the paving of which was worn into a gutter by the ebb +and flow of feet that had been going on there ever since Tudor +times. + + + +IV. WHO WERE PRESENT AT THE MILLER'S LITTLE ENTERTAINMENT + +When the group entered the presence of the company a lull in the +conversation was caused by the sight of new visitors, and (of +course) by the charm of Anne's appearance; until the old men, who +had daughters of their own, perceiving that she was only a +half-formed girl, resumed their tales and toss-potting with +unconcern. + +Miller Loveday had fraternized with half the soldiers in the camp +since their arrival, and the effect of this upon his party was +striking--both chromatically and otherwise. Those among the guests +who first attracted the eye were the sergeants and sergeant-majors +of Loveday's regiment, fine hearty men, who sat facing the candles, +entirely resigned to physical comfort. Then there were other +non-commissioned officers, a German, two Hungarians, and a Swede, +from the foreign hussars--young men with a look of sadness on their +faces, as if they did not much like serving so far from home. All +of them spoke English fairly well. Old age was represented by Simon +Burden the pensioner, and the shady side of fifty by Corporal +Tullidge, his friend and neighbour, who was hard of hearing, and sat +with his hat on over a red cotton handkerchief that was wound +several times round his head. These two veterans were employed as +watchers at the neighbouring beacon, which had lately been erected +by the Lord-Lieutenant for firing whenever the descent on the coast +should be made. They lived in a little hut on the hill, close by +the heap of faggots; but to-night they had found deputies to watch +in their stead. + +On a lower plane of experience and qualifications came neighbour +James Comfort, of the Volunteers, a soldier by courtesy, but a +blacksmith by rights; also William Tremlett and Anthony +Cripplestraw, of the local forces. The two latter men of war were +dressed merely as villagers, and looked upon the regulars from a +humble position in the background. The remainder of the party was +made up of a neighbouring dairyman or two, and their wives, invited +by the miller, as Anne was glad to see, that she and her mother +should not be the only women there. + +The elder Loveday apologized in a whisper to Mrs. Garland for the +presence of the inferior villagers. 'But as they are learning to be +brave defenders of their home and country, ma'am, as fast as they +can master the drill, and have worked for me off and on these many +years, I've asked 'em in, and thought you'd excuse it.' + +'Certainly, Miller Loveday,' said the widow. + +'And the same of old Burden and Tullidge. They have served well and +long in the Foot, and even now have a hard time of it up at the +beacon in wet weather. So after giving them a meal in the kitchen I +just asked 'em in to hear the singing. They faithfully promise that +as soon as ever the gunboats appear in view, and they have fired the +beacon, to run down here first, in case we shouldn't see it. 'Tis +worth while to be friendly with 'em, you see, though their tempers +be queer.' + +'Quite worth while, miller,' said she. + +Anne was rather embarrassed by the presence of the regular military +in such force, and at first confined her words to the dairymen's +wives she was acquainted with, and to the two old soldiers of the +parish. + +'Why didn't ye speak to me afore, chiel?' said one of these, +Corporal Tullidge, the elderly man with the hat, while she was +talking to old Simon Burden. 'I met ye in the lane yesterday,' he +added reproachfully, 'but ye didn't notice me at all.' + +'I am very sorry for it,' she said; but, being afraid to shout in +such a company, the effect of her remark upon the corporal was as if +she had not spoken at all. + +'You was coming along with yer head full of some high notions or +other no doubt,' continued the uncompromising corporal in the same +loud voice. 'Ah, 'tis the young bucks that get all the notice +nowadays, and old folks are quite forgot! I can mind well enough +how young Bob Loveday used to lie in wait for ye.' + +Anne blushed deeply, and stopped his too excursive discourse by +hastily saying that she always respected old folks like him. The +corporal thought she inquired why he always kept his hat on, and +answered that it was because his head was injured at Valenciennes, +in July, Ninety-three. 'We were trying to bomb down the tower, and +a piece of the shell struck me. I was no more nor less than a dead +man for two days. If it hadn't a been for that and my smashed arm I +should have come home none the worse for my five-and-twenty years' +service.' + +'You have got a silver plate let into yer head, haven't ye, corpel?' +said Anthony Cripplestraw, who had drawn near. 'I have heard that +the way they morticed yer skull was a beautiful piece of +workmanship. Perhaps the young woman would like to see the place? +'Tis a curious sight, Mis'ess Anne; you don't see such a wownd every +day.' + +'No, thank you,' said Anne hurriedly, dreading, as did all the young +people of Overcombe, the spectacle of the corporal uncovered. He +had never been seen in public without the hat and the handkerchief +since his return in Ninety-four; and strange stories were told of +the ghastliness of his appearance bare-headed, a little boy who had +accidentally beheld him going to bed in that state having been +frightened into fits. + +'Well, if the young woman don't want to see yer head, maybe she'd +like to hear yer arm?' continued Cripplestraw, earnest to please +her. + +'Hey?' said the corporal. + +'Your arm hurt too?' cried Anne. + +'Knocked to a pummy at the same time as my head,' said Tullidge +dispassionately. + +'Rattle yer arm, corpel, and show her,' said Cripplestraw. + +'Yes, sure,' said the corporal, raising the limb slowly, as if the +glory of exhibition had lost some of its novelty, though he was +willing to oblige. Twisting it mercilessly about with his right +hand he produced a crunching among the bones at every motion, +Cripplestraw seeming to derive great satisfaction from the ghastly +sound. + +'How very shocking!' said Anne, painfully anxious for him to leave +off. + +'O, it don't hurt him, bless ye. Do it, corpel?' said Cripplestraw. + +'Not a bit,' said the corporal, still working his arm with great +energy. + +'There's no life in the bones at all. No life in 'em, I tell her, +corpel!' + +'None at all.' + +'They be as loose as a bag of ninepins,' explained Cripplestraw in +continuation. 'You can feel 'em quite plain, Mis'ess Anne. If ye +would like to, he'll undo his sleeve in a minute to oblege ye?' + +'O no, no, please not! I quite understand,' said the young woman. + +'Do she want to hear or see any more, or don't she?' the corporal +inquired, with a sense that his time was getting wasted. + +Anne explained that she did not on any account; and managed to +escape from the corner. + + + +V. THE SONG AND THE STRANGER + +The trumpet-major now contrived to place himself near her, Anne's +presence having evidently been a great pleasure to him since the +moment of his first seeing her. She was quite at her ease with him, +and asked him if he thought that Buonaparte would really come during +the summer, and many other questions which the gallant dragoon could +not answer, but which he nevertheless liked to be asked. William +Tremlett, who had not enjoyed a sound night's rest since the First +Consul's menace had become known, pricked up his ears at sound of +this subject, and inquired if anybody had seen the terrible +flat-bottomed boats that the enemy were to cross in. + +'My brother Robert saw several of them paddling about the shore the +last time he passed the Straits of Dover,' said the trumpet-major; +and he further startled the company by informing them that there +were supposed to be more than fifteen hundred of these boats, and +that they would carry a hundred men apiece. So that a descent of +one hundred and fifty thousand men might be expected any day as soon +as Boney had brought his plans to bear. + +'Lord ha' mercy upon us!' said William Tremlett. + +'The night-time is when they will try it, if they try it at all,' +said old Tullidge, in the tone of one whose watch at the beacon +must, in the nature of things, have given him comprehensive views of +the situation. 'It is my belief that the point they will choose for +making the shore is just over there,' and he nodded with +indifference towards a section of the coast at a hideous nearness to +the house in which they were assembled, whereupon Fencible Tremlett, +and Cripplestraw of the Locals, tried to show no signs of +trepidation. + +'When d'ye think 'twill be?' said Volunteer Comfort, the blacksmith. + +'I can't answer to a day,' said the corporal, 'but it will certainly +be in a down-channel tide; and instead of pulling hard against it, +he'll let his boats drift, and that will bring 'em right into +Budmouth Bay. 'Twill be a beautiful stroke of war, if so be 'tis +quietly done!' + +'Beautiful,' said Cripplestraw, moving inside his clothes. 'But how +if we should be all abed, corpel? You can't expect a man to be +brave in his shirt, especially we Locals, that have only got so far +as shoulder fire-locks.' + +'He's not coming this summer. He'll never come at all,' said a tall +sergeant-major decisively. + +Loveday the soldier was too much engaged in attending upon Anne and +her mother to join in these surmises, bestirring himself to get the +ladies some of the best liquor the house afforded, which had, as a +matter of fact, crossed the Channel as privately as Buonaparte +wished his army to do, and had been landed on a dark night over the +cliff. After this he asked Anne to sing, but though she had a very +pretty voice in private performances of that nature, she declined to +oblige him; turning the subject by making a hesitating inquiry about +his brother Robert, whom he had mentioned just before. + +'Robert is as well as ever, thank you, Miss Garland,' he said. 'He +is now mate of the brig Pewit--rather young for such a command; but +the owner puts great trust in him.' The trumpet-major added, +deepening his thoughts to a profounder view of the person discussed, +'Bob is in love.' + +Anne looked conscious, and listened attentively; but Loveday did not +go on. + +'Much?' she asked. + +'I can't exactly say. And the strange part of it is that he never +tells us who the woman is. Nobody knows at all.' + +'He will tell, of course?' said Anne, in the remote tone of a person +with whose sex such matters had no connexion whatever. + +Loveday shook his head, and the tete-a-tete was put an end to by a +burst of singing from one of the sergeants, who was followed at the +end of his song by others, each giving a ditty in his turn; the +singer standing up in front of the table, stretching his chin well +into the air, as though to abstract every possible wrinkle from his +throat, and then plunging into the melody. When this was over one +of the foreign hussars--the genteel German of Miller Loveday's +description, who called himself a Hungarian, and in reality belonged +to no definite country--performed at Trumpet-major Loveday's request +the series of wild motions that he denominated his national dance, +that Anne might see what it was like. Miss Garland was the flower +of the whole company; the soldiers one and all, foreign and English, +seemed to be quite charmed by her presence, as indeed they well +might be, considering how seldom they came into the society of such +as she. + +Anne and her mother were just thinking of retiring to their own +dwelling when Sergeant Stanner of the --th Foot, who was recruiting +at Budmouth, began a satirical song:-- + + When law'-yers strive' to heal' a breach', + And par-sons prac'-tise what' they preach'; + Then lit'-tle Bo-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + +Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + + When jus'-ti-ces' hold e'qual scales', + And rogues' are on'-ly found' in jails'; + Then lit'tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + +Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + + When rich' men find' their wealth' a curse', + And fill' there-with' the poor' man's purse'; + Then lit'-tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + +Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +Poor Stanner! In spite of his satire, he fell at the bloody battle +of Albuera a few years after this pleasantly spent summer at the +Georgian watering-place, being mortally wounded and trampled down by +a French hussar when the brigade was deploying into line under +Beresford. + +While Miller Loveday was saying 'Well done, Mr. Stanner!' at the +close of the thirteenth stanza, which seemed to be the last, and Mr. +Stanner was modestly expressing his regret that he could do no +better, a stentorian voice was heard outside the window shutter +repeating, + + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +The company was silent in a moment at this reinforcement, and only +the military tried not to look surprised. While all wondered who +the singer could be somebody entered the porch; the door opened, and +in came a young man, about the size and weight of the Farnese +Hercules, in the uniform of the yeomanry cavalry. + +''Tis young Squire Derriman, old Mr. Derriman's nephew,' murmured +voices in the background. + +Without waiting to address anybody, or apparently seeing who were +gathered there, the colossal man waved his cap above his head and +went on in tones that shook the window-panes:-- + + When hus'-bands with' their wives' agree'. + And maids' won't wed' from mod'-es-ty', + Then lit'-tle Bo'-ney he'll pounce down', + And march' his men' on Lon'-don town'! + +Chorus.--Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lo'-rum, + Rol'-li-cum ro'-rum, tol'-lol-lay. + +It was a verse which had been omitted by the gallant Stanner, out of +respect to the ladies. + +The new-comer was red-haired and of florid complexion, and seemed +full of a conviction that his whim of entering must be their +pleasure, which for the moment it was. + +'No ceremony, good men all,' he said; 'I was passing by, and my ear +was caught by the singing. I like singing; 'tis warming and +cheering, and shall not be put down. I should like to hear anybody +say otherwise.' + +'Welcome, Master Derriman,' said the miller, filling a glass and +handing it to the yeoman. 'Come all the way from quarters, then? I +hardly knowed ye in your soldier's clothes. You'd look more natural +with a spud in your hand, sir. I shouldn't ha' known ye at all if I +hadn't heard that you were called out.' + +'More natural with a spud!--have a care, miller,' said the young +giant, the fire of his complexion increasing to scarlet. 'I don't +mean anger, but--but--a soldier's honour, you know!' + +The military in the background laughed a little, and the yeoman then +for the first time discovered that there were more regulars present +than one. He looked momentarily disconcerted, but expanded again to +full assurance. + +'Right, right, Master Derriman, no offence--'twas only my joke,' +said the genial miller. 'Everybody's a soldier nowadays. Drink a +drap o' this cordial, and don't mind words.' + +The young man drank without the least reluctance, and said, 'Yes, +miller, I am called out. 'Tis ticklish times for us soldiers now; +we hold our lives in our hands--What are those fellows grinning at +behind the table?--I say, we do!' + +'Staying with your uncle at the farm for a day or two, Mr. +Derriman?' + +'No, no; as I told you, six mile off. Billeted at Casterbridge. +But I have to call and see the old, old--' + +'Gentleman?' + +'Gentleman!--no, skinflint. He lives upon the sweepings of the +barton; ha, ha!' And the speaker's regular white teeth showed +themselves like snow in a Dutch cabbage. 'Well, well, the +profession of arms makes a man proof against all that. I take +things as I find 'em.' + +'Quite right, Master Derriman. Another drop?' + +'No, no. I'll take no more than is good for me--no man should; so +don't tempt me.' + +The yeoman then saw Anne, and by an unconscious gravitation went +towards her and the other women, flinging a remark to John Loveday +in passing. 'Ah, Loveday! I heard you were come; in short, I come +o' purpose to see you. Glad to see you enjoying yourself at home +again.' + +The trumpet-major replied civilly, though not without grimness, for +he seemed hardly to like Derriman's motion towards Anne. + +'Widow Garland's daughter!--yes, 'tis! surely. You remember me? I +have been here before. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry Cavalry.' + +Anne gave a little curtsey. 'I know your name is Festus--that's +all.' + +'Yes, 'tis well known--especially latterly.' He dropped his voice +to confidence pitch. 'I suppose your friends here are disturbed by +my coming in, as they don't seem to talk much? I don't mean to +interrupt the party; but I often find that people are put out by my +coming among 'em, especially when I've got my regimentals on.' + +'La! and are they?' + +'Yes; 'tis the way I have.' He further lowered his tone, as if they +had been old friends, though in reality he had only seen her three +or four times. 'And how did you come to be here? Dash my wig, I +don't like to see a nice young lady like you in this company. You +should come to some of our yeomanry sprees in Casterbridge or +Shottsford-Forum. O, but the girls do come! The yeomanry are +respected men, men of good substantial families, many farming their +own land; and every one among us rides his own charger, which is +more than these cussed fellows do.' He nodded towards the dragoons. + +'Hush, hush! Why, these are friends and neighbours of Miller +Loveday, and he is a great friend of ours--our best friend,' said +Anne with great emphasis, and reddening at the sense of injustice to +their host. 'What are you thinking of, talking like that? It is +ungenerous in you.' + +'Ha, ha! I've affronted you. Isn't that it, fair angel, fair--what +do you call it?--fair vestal? Ah, well! would you was safe in my +own house! But honour must be minded now, not courting. Rollicum- +rorum, tol-lol-lorum. Pardon me, my sweet, I like ye! It may be a +come down for me, owning land; but I do like ye.' + +'Sir, please be quiet,' said Anne, distressed. + +'I will, I will. Well, Corporal Tullidge, how's your head?' he +said, going towards the other end of the room, and leaving Anne to +herself. + +The company had again recovered its liveliness, and it was a long +time before the bouncing Rufus who had joined them could find heart +to tear himself away from their society and good liquors, although +he had had quite enough of the latter before he entered. The +natives received him at his own valuation, and the soldiers of the +camp, who sat beyond the table, smiled behind their pipes at his +remarks, with a pleasant twinkle of the eye which approached the +satirical, John Loveday being not the least conspicuous in this +bearing. But he and his friends were too courteous on such an +occasion as the present to challenge the young man's large remarks, +and readily permitted him to set them right on the details of +camping and other military routine, about which the troopers seemed +willing to let persons hold any opinion whatever, provided that they +themselves were not obliged to give attention to it; showing, +strangely enough, that if there was one subject more than another +which never interested their minds, it was the art of war. To them +the art of enjoying good company in Overcombe Mill, the details of +the miller's household, the swarming of his bees, the number of his +chickens, and the fatness of his pigs, were matters of infinitely +greater concern. + +The present writer, to whom this party has been described times out +of number by members of the Loveday family and other aged people now +passed away, can never enter the old living-room of Overcombe Mill +without beholding the genial scene through the mists of the seventy +or eighty years that intervene between then and now. First and +brightest to the eye are the dozen candles, scattered about +regardless of expense, and kept well snuffed by the miller, who +walks round the room at intervals of five minutes, snuffers in hand, +and nips each wick with great precision, and with something of an +executioner's grim look upon his face as he closes the snuffers upon +the neck of the candle. Next to the candle-light show the red and +blue coats and white breeches of the soldiers--nearly twenty of them +in all besides the ponderous Derriman--the head of the latter, and, +indeed, the heads of all who are standing up, being in dangerous +proximity to the black beams of the ceiling. There is not one among +them who would attach any meaning to 'Vittoria,' or gather from the +syllables 'Waterloo' the remotest idea of his own glory or death. +Next appears the correct and innocent Anne, little thinking what +things Time has in store for her at no great distance off. She +looks at Derriman with a half-uneasy smile as he clanks hither and +thither, and hopes he will not single her out again to hold a +private dialogue with--which, however, he does, irresistibly +attracted by the white muslin figure. She must, of course, look a +little gracious again now, lest his mood should turn from +sentimental to quarrelsome--no impossible contingency with the +yeoman-soldier, as her quick perception had noted. + +'Well, well; this idling won't do for me, folks,' he at last said, +to Anne's relief. 'I ought not to have come in, by rights; but I +heard you enjoying yourselves, and thought it might be worth while +to see what you were up to; I have several miles to go before +bedtime;' and stretching his arms, lifting his chin, and shaking his +head, to eradicate any unseemly curve or wrinkle from his person, +the yeoman wished them an off-hand good-night, and departed. + +'You should have teased him a little more, father,' said the +trumpet-major drily. 'You could soon have made him as crabbed as a +bear.' + +'I didn't want to provoke the chap--'twasn't worth while. He came +in friendly enough,' said the gentle miller without looking up. + +'I don't think he was overmuch friendly,' said John. + +''Tis as well to be neighbourly with folks, if they be not quite +onbearable,' his father genially replied, as he took off his coat to +go and draw more ale--this periodical stripping to the shirt-sleeves +being necessitated by the narrowness of the cellar and the smeary +effect of its numerous cobwebs upon best clothes. + +Some of the guests then spoke of Fess Derriman as not such a bad +young man if you took him right and humoured him; others said that +he was nobody's enemy but his own; and the elder ladies mentioned in +a tone of interest that he was likely to come into a deal of money +at his uncle's death. The person who did not praise was the one who +knew him best, who had known him as a boy years ago, when he had +lived nearer to Overcombe than he did at present. This +unappreciative person was the trumpet-major. + + + +VI. OLD MR. DERRIMAN OF OXWELL HALL + +At this time in the history of Overcombe one solitary newspaper +occasionally found its way into the village. It was lent by the +postmaster at Budmouth (who, in some mysterious way, got it for +nothing through his connexion with the mail) to Mr. Derriman at the +Hall, by whom it was handed on to Mrs. Garland when it was not more +than a fortnight old. Whoever remembers anything about the old +farmer-squire will, of course, know well enough that this delightful +privilege of reading history in long columns was not accorded to the +Widow Garland for nothing. It was by such ingenuous means that he +paid her for her daughter's occasional services in reading aloud to +him and making out his accounts, in which matters the farmer, whose +guineas were reported to touch five figures--some said more--was not +expert. + +Mrs. Martha Garland, as a respectable widow, occupied a twilight +rank between the benighted villagers and the well-informed gentry, +and kindly made herself useful to the former as letter-writer and +reader, and general translator from the printing tongue. It was not +without satisfaction that she stood at her door of an evening, +newspaper in hand, with three or four cottagers standing round, and +poured down their open throats any paragraph that she might choose +to select from the stirring ones of the period. When she had done +with the sheet Mrs. Garland passed it on to the miller, the miller +to the grinder, and the grinder to the grinder's boy, in whose hands +it became subdivided into half pages, quarter pages, and irregular +triangles, and ended its career as a paper cap, a flagon bung, or a +wrapper for his bread and cheese. + +Notwithstanding his compact with Mrs. Garland, old Mr. Derriman kept +the paper so long, and was so chary of wasting his man's time on a +merely intellectual errand, that unless she sent for the journal it +seldom reached her hands. Anne was always her messenger. The +arrival of the soldiers led Mrs. Garland to despatch her daughter +for it the day after the party; and away she went in her hat and +pelisse, in a direction at right angles to that of the encampment on +the hill. + +Walking across the fields for the distance of a mile or two, she +came out upon the high-road by a wicket-gate. On the other side of +the way was the entrance to what at first sight looked like a +neglected meadow, the gate being a rotten one, without a bottom +rail, and broken-down palings lying on each side. The dry hard mud +of the opening was marked with several horse and cow tracks, that +had been half obliterated by fifty score sheep tracks, surcharged +with the tracks of a man and a dog. Beyond this geological record +appeared a carriage-road, nearly grown over with grass, which Anne +followed. It descended by a gentle slope, dived under dark-rinded +elm and chestnut trees, and conducted her on till the hiss of a +waterfall and the sound of the sea became audible, when it took a +bend round a swamp of fresh watercress and brooklime that had once +been a fish pond. Here the grey, weather-worn front of a building +edged from behind the trees. It was Oxwell Hall, once the seat of a +family now extinct, and of late years used as a farmhouse. + +Benjamin Derriman, who owned the crumbling place, had originally +been only the occupier and tenant-farmer of the fields around. His +wife had brought him a small fortune, and during the growth of their +only son there had been a partition of the Oxwell estate, giving the +farmer, now a widower, the opportunity of acquiring the building and +a small portion of the land attached on exceptionally low terms. +But two years after the purchase the boy died, and Derriman's +existence was paralyzed forthwith. It was said that since that +event he had devised the house and fields to a distant female +relative, to keep them out of the hands of his detested nephew; but +this was not certainly known. + +The hall was as interesting as mansions in a state of declension +usually are, as the excellent county history showed. That popular +work in folio contained an old plate dedicated to the last scion of +the original owners, from which drawing it appeared that in 1750, +the date of publication, the windows were covered with little +scratches like black flashes of lightning; that a horn of hard smoke +came out of each of the twelve chimneys; that a lady and a lap-dog +stood on the lawn in a strenuously walking position; and a +substantial cloud and nine flying birds of no known species hung +over the trees to the north-east. + +The rambling and neglected dwelling had all the romantic +excellencies and practical drawbacks which such mildewed places +share in common with caves, mountains, wildernesses, glens, and +other homes of poesy that people of taste wish to live and die in. +Mustard and cress could have been raised on the inner plaster of the +dewy walls at any height not exceeding three feet from the floor; +and mushrooms of the most refined and thin-stemmed kinds grew up +through the chinks of the larder paving. As for the outside, +Nature, in the ample time that had been given her, had so mingled +her filings and effacements with the marks of human wear and tear +upon the house, that it was often hard to say in which of the two or +if in both, any particular obliteration had its origin. The +keenness was gone from the mouldings of the doorways, but whether +worn out by the rubbing past of innumerable people's shoulders, and +the moving of their heavy furniture, or by Time in a grander and +more abstract form, did not appear. The iron stanchions inside the +window-panes were eaten away to the size of wires at the bottom +where they entered the stone, the condensed breathings of +generations having settled there in pools and rusted them. The +panes themselves had either lost their shine altogether or become +iridescent as a peacock's tail. In the middle of the porch was a +vertical sun-dial, whose gnomon swayed loosely about when the wind +blew, and cast its shadow hither and thither, as much as to say, +'Here's your fine model dial; here's any time for any man; I am an +old dial; and shiftiness is the best policy.' + +Anne passed under the arched gateway which screened the main front; +over it was the porter's lodge, reached by a spiral staircase. +Across the archway was fixed a row of wooden hurdles, one of which +Anne opened and closed behind her. Their necessity was apparent as +soon as she got inside. The quadrangle of the ancient pile was a +bed of mud and manure, inhabited by calves, geese, ducks, and sow +pigs surprisingly large, with young ones surprisingly small. In the +groined porch some heifers were amusing themselves by stretching up +their necks and licking the carved stone capitals that supported the +vaulting. Anne went on to a second and open door, across which was +another hurdle to keep the live stock from absolute community with +the inmates. There being no knocker, she knocked by means of a +short stick which was laid against the post for that purpose; but +nobody attending, she entered the passage, and tried an inner door. + +A slight noise was heard inside, the door opened about an inch, and +a strip of decayed face, including the eye and some forehead +wrinkles, appeared within the crevice. + +'Please I have come for the paper,' said Anne. + +'O, is it you, dear Anne?' whined the inmate, opening the door a +little further. 'I could hardly get to the door to open it, I am so +weak.' + +The speaker was a wizened old gentleman, in a coat the colour of his +farmyard, breeches of the same hue, unbuttoned at the knees, +revealing a bit of leg above his stocking and a dazzlingly white +shirt-frill to compensate for this untidiness below. The edge of +his skull round his eye-sockets was visible through the skin, and he +had a mouth whose corners made towards the back of his head on the +slightest provocation. He walked with great apparent difficulty +back into the room, Anne following him. + +'Well, you can have the paper if you want it; but you never give me +much time to see what's in en! Here's the paper.' He held it out, +but before she could take it he drew it back again, saying, 'I have +not had my share o' the paper by a good deal, what with my weak +sight, and people coming so soon for en. I am a poor put-upon soul; +but my "Duty of Man" will be left to me when the newspaper is gone.' +And he sank into his chair with an air of exhaustion. + +Anne said that she did not wish to take the paper if he had not done +with it, and that she was really later in the week than usual, owing +to the soldiers. + +'Soldiers, yes--rot the soldiers! And now hedges will be broke, and +hens' nests robbed, and sucking-pigs stole, and I don't know what +all. Who's to pay for't, sure? I reckon that because the soldiers +be come you don't mean to be kind enough to read to me what I hadn't +time to read myself.' + +She would read if he wished, she said; she was in no hurry. And +sitting herself down she unfolded the paper. + +'"Dinner at Carlton House"?' + +'No, faith. 'Tis nothing to I.' + +'"Defence of the country"?' + +'Ye may read that if ye will. I hope there will be no billeting in +this parish, or any wild work of that sort; for what would a poor +old lamiger like myself do with soldiers in his house, and nothing +to feed 'em with?' + +Anne began reading, and continued at her task nearly ten minutes, +when she was interrupted by the appearance in the quadrangular +slough without of a large figure in the uniform of the yeomanry +cavalry. + +'What do you see out there?' said the farmer with a start, as she +paused and slowly blushed. + +'A soldier--one of the yeomanry,' said Anne, not quite at her ease. + +'Scrounch it all--'tis my nephew!' exclaimed the old man, his face +turning to a phosphoric pallor, and his body twitching with +innumerable alarms as he formed upon his face a gasping smile of +joy, with which to welcome the new-coming relative. 'Read on, +prithee, Miss Garland.' + +Before she had read far the visitor straddled over the door-hurdle +into the passage and entered the room. + +'Well, nunc, how do you feel?' said the giant, shaking hands with +the farmer in the manner of one violently ringing a hand-bell. +'Glad to see you.' + +'Bad and weakish, Festus,' replied the other, his person responding +passively to the rapid vibrations imparted. 'O, be tender, please-- +a little softer, there's a dear nephew! My arm is no more than a +cobweb.' + +'Ah, poor soul!' + +'Yes, I am not much more than a skeleton, and can't bear rough +usage.' + +'Sorry to hear that; but I'll bear your affliction in mind. Why, +you are all in a tremble, Uncle Benjy!' + +''Tis because I am so gratified,' said the old man. 'I always get +all in a tremble when I am taken by surprise by a beloved relation.' + +'Ah, that's it!' said the yeoman, bringing his hand down on the back +of his uncle's chair with a loud smack, at which Uncle Benjy +nervously sprang three inches from his seat and dropped into it +again. 'Ask your pardon for frightening ye, uncle. 'Tis how we do +in the army, and I forgot your nerves. You have scarcely expected +to see me, I dare say, but here I am.' + +'I am glad to see ye. You are not going to stay long, perhaps?' + +'Quite the contrary. I am going to stay ever so long!' + +'O I see! I am so glad, dear Festus. Ever so long, did ye say?' + +'Yes, EVER so long,' said the young gentleman, sitting on the slope +of the bureau and stretching out his legs as props. 'I am going to +make this quite my own home whenever I am off duty, as long as we +stay out. And after that, when the campaign is over in the autumn, +I shall come here, and live with you like your own son, and help +manage your land and your farm, you know, and make you a comfortable +old man.' + +'Ah! How you do please me!' said the farmer, with a horrified +smile, and grasping the arms of his chair to sustain himself. + +'Yes; I have been meaning to come a long time, as I knew you'd like +to have me, Uncle Benjy; and 'tisn't in my heart to refuse you.' + +'You always was kind that way!' + +'Yes; I always was. But I ought to tell you at once, not to +disappoint you, that I shan't be here always--all day, that is, +because of my military duties as a cavalry man.' + +'O, not always? That's a pity!' exclaimed the farmer with a +cheerful eye. + +'I knew you'd say so. And I shan't be able to sleep here at night +sometimes, for the same reason.' + +'Not sleep here o' nights?' said the old gentleman, still more +relieved. 'You ought to sleep here--you certainly ought; in short, +you must. But you can't!' + +'Not while we are with the colours. But directly that's over--the +very next day--I'll stay here all day, and all night too, to oblige +you, since you ask me so very kindly.' + +'Th-thank ye, that will be very nice!' said Uncle Benjy. + +'Yes, I knew 'twould relieve ye.' And he kindly stroked his uncle's +head, the old man expressing his enjoyment at the affectionate token +by a death's-head grimace. 'I should have called to see you the +other night when I passed through here,' Festus continued; 'but it +was so late that I couldn't come so far out of my way. You won't +think it unkind?' + +'Not at all, if you COULDN'T. I never shall think it unkind if you +really CAN'T come, you know, Festy.' There was a few minutes' +pause, and as the nephew said nothing Uncle Benjy went on: 'I wish +I had a little present for ye. But as ill-luck would have it we +have lost a deal of stock this year, and I have had to pay away so +much.' + +'Poor old man--I know you have. Shall I lend you a seven-shilling +piece, Uncle Benjy?' + +'Ha, ha!--you must have your joke; well, I'll think o' that. And so +they expect Buonaparty to choose this very part of the coast for his +landing, hey? And that the yeomanry be to stand in front as the +forlorn hope?' + +'Who says so?' asked the florid son of Mars, losing a little +redness. + +'The newspaper-man.' + +'O, there's nothing in that,' said Festus bravely. 'The gover'ment +thought it possible at one time; but they don't know.' + +Festus turned himself as he talked, and now said abruptly: 'Ah, +who's this? Why, 'tis our little Anne!' He had not noticed her +till this moment, the young woman having at his entry kept her face +over the newspaper, and then got away to the back part of the room. +'And are you and your mother always going to stay down there in the +mill-house watching the little fishes, Miss Anne?' + +She said that it was uncertain, in a tone of truthful precision +which the question was hardly worth, looking forcedly at him as she +spoke. But she blushed fitfully, in her arms and hands as much as +in her face. Not that she was overpowered by the great boots, +formidable spurs, and other fierce appliances of his person, as he +imagined; simply she had not been prepared to meet him there. + +'I hope you will, I am sure, for my own good,' said he, letting his +eyes linger on the round of her cheek. + +Anne became a little more dignified, and her look showed reserve. +But the yeoman on perceiving this went on talking to her in so civil +a way that he irresistibly amused her, though she tried to conceal +all feeling. At a brighter remark of his than usual her mouth +moved, her upper lip playing uncertainly over her white teeth; it +would stay still--no, it would withdraw a little way in a smile; +then it would flutter down again; and so it wavered like a butterfly +in a tender desire to be pleased and smiling, and yet to be also +sedate and composed; to show him that she did not want compliments, +and yet that she was not so cold as to wish to repress any genuine +feeling he might be anxious to utter. + +'Shall you want any more reading, Mr. Derriman?' said she, +interrupting the younger man in his remarks. 'If not, I'll go +homeward.' + +'Don't let me hinder you longer,' said Festus. 'I'm off in a minute +or two, when your man has cleaned my boots.' + +'Ye don't hinder us, nephew. She must have the paper: 'tis the day +for her to have 'n. She might read a little more, as I have had so +little profit out o' en hitherto. Well, why don't ye speak? Will +ye, or won't ye, my dear?' + +'Not to two,' she said. + +'Ho, ho! damn it, I must go then, I suppose,' said Festus, laughing; +and unable to get a further glance from her he left the room and +clanked into the back yard, where he saw a man; holding up his hand +he cried, 'Anthony Cripplestraw!' + +Cripplestraw came up in a trot, moved a lock of his hair and +replaced it, and said, 'Yes, Maister Derriman.' He was old Mr. +Derriman's odd hand in the yard and garden, and like his employer +had no great pretensions to manly beauty, owing to a limpness of +backbone and speciality of mouth, which opened on one side only, +giving him a triangular smile. + +'Well, Cripplestraw, how is it to-day?' said Festus, with +socially-superior heartiness. + +'Middlin', considering, Maister Derriman. And how's yerself?' + +'Fairish. Well, now, see and clean these military boots of mine. +I'll cock my foot up on this bench. This pigsty of my uncle's is +not fit for a soldier to come into.' + +'Yes, Maister Derriman, I will. No, 'tis not fit, Maister +Derriman.' + +'What stock has uncle lost this year, Cripplestraw?' + +'Well, let's see, sir. I can call to mind that we've lost three +chickens, a tom-pigeon, and a weakly sucking-pig, one of a fare of +ten. I can't think of no more, Maister Derriman.' + +'H'm, not a large quantity of cattle. The old rascal!' + +'No, 'tis not a large quantity. Old what did you say, sir?' + +'O nothing. He's within there.' Festus flung his forehead in the +direction of a right line towards the inner apartment. 'He's a +regular sniche one.' + +'Hee, hee; fie, fie, Master Derriman!' said Cripplestraw, shaking +his head in delighted censure. 'Gentlefolks shouldn't talk so. And +an officer, Mr. Derriman! 'Tis the duty of all cavalry gentlemen to +bear in mind that their blood is a knowed thing in the country, and +not to speak ill o't.' + +'He's close-fisted.' + +'Well, maister, he is--I own he is a little. 'Tis the nater of some +old venerable gentlemen to be so. We'll hope he'll treat ye well in +yer fortune, sir.' + +'Hope he will. Do people talk about me here, Cripplestraw?' asked +the yeoman, as the other continued busy with his boots. + +'Well, yes, sir; they do off and on, you know. They says you be as +fine a piece of calvery flesh and bones as was ever growed on +fallow-ground; in short, all owns that you be a fine fellow, sir. I +wish I wasn't no more afraid of the French than you be; but being in +the Locals, Maister Derriman, I assure ye I dream of having to +defend my country every night; and I don't like the dream at all.' + +'You should take it careless, Cripplestraw, as I do; and 'twould +soon come natural to you not to mind it at all. Well, a fine fellow +is not everything, you know. O no. There's as good as I in the +army, and even better.' + +'And they say that when you fall this summer, you'll die like a +man.' + +'When I fall?' + +'Yes, sure, Maister Derriman. Poor soul o' thee! I shan't forget +'ee as you lie mouldering in yer soldier's grave.' + +'Hey?' said the warrior uneasily. 'What makes 'em think I am going +to fall?' + +'Well, sir, by all accounts the yeomanry will be put in front.' + +'Front! That's what my uncle has been saying.' + +'Yes, and by all accounts 'tis true. And naterelly they'll be mowed +down like grass; and you among 'em, poor young galliant officer!' + +'Look here, Cripplestraw. This is a reg'lar foolish report. How +can yeomanry be put in front? Nobody's put in front. We yeomanry +have nothing to do with Buonaparte's landing. We shall be away in a +safe place, guarding the possessions and jewels. Now, can you see, +Cripplestraw, any way at all that the yeomanry can be put in front? +Do you think they really can?' + +'Well, maister, I am afraid I do,' said the cheering Cripplestraw. +'And I know a great warrior like you is only too glad o' the chance. +'Twill be a great thing for ye, death and glory! In short, I hope +from my heart you will be, and I say so very often to folk--in fact, +I pray at night for't.' + +'O! cuss you! you needn't pray about it.' + +'No, Maister Derriman, I won't.' + +'Of course my sword will do its duty. That's enough. And now be +off with ye.' + +Festus gloomily returned to his uncle's room and found that Anne was +just leaving. He was inclined to follow her at once, but as she +gave him no opportunity for doing this he went to the window, and +remained tapping his fingers against the shutter while she crossed +the yard. + +'Well, nephy, you are not gone yet?' said the farmer, looking +dubiously at Festus from under one eyelid. 'You see how I am. Not +by any means better, you see; so I can't entertain 'ee as well as I +would.' + +'You can't, nunc, you can't. I don't think you are worse--if I do, +dash my wig. But you'll have plenty of opportunities to make me +welcome when you are better. If you are not so brisk inwardly as +you was, why not try change of air? This is a dull, damp hole.' + +''Tis, Festus; and I am thinking of moving.' + +'Ah, where to?' said Festus, with surprise and interest. + +'Up into the garret in the north corner. There is no fireplace in +the room; but I shan't want that, poor soul o' me.' + +''Tis not moving far.' + +''Tis not. But I have not a soul belonging to me within ten mile; +and you know very well that I couldn't afford to go to lodgings that +I had to pay for.' + +'I know it--I know it, Uncle Benjy! Well, don't be disturbed. I'll +come and manage for you as soon as ever this Boney alarm is over; +but when a man's country calls he must obey, if he is a man.' + +'A splendid spirit!' said Uncle Benjy, with much admiration on the +surface of his countenance. 'I never had it. How could it have got +into the boy?' + +'From my mother's side, perhaps.' + +'Perhaps so. Well, take care of yourself, nephy,' said the farmer, +waving his hand impressively. 'Take care! In these warlike times +your spirit may carry ye into the arms of the enemy; and you are the +last of the family. You should think of this, and not let your +bravery carry ye away.' + +'Don't be disturbed, uncle; I'll control myself,' said Festus, +betrayed into self-complacency against his will. 'At least I'll do +what I can, but nature will out sometimes. Well, I'm off.' He +began humming 'Brighton Camp,' and, promising to come again soon, +retired with assurance, each yard of his retreat adding private +joyousness to his uncle's form. + +When the bulky young man had disappeared through the porter's lodge, +Uncle Benjy showed preternatural activity for one in his invalid +state, jumping up quickly without his stick, at the same time +opening and shutting his mouth quite silently like a thirsty frog, +which was his way of expressing mirth. He ran upstairs as quick as +an old squirrel, and went to a dormer window which commanded a view +of the grounds beyond the gate, and the footpath that stretched +across them to the village. + +'Yes, yes!' he said in a suppressed scream, dancing up and down, +'he's after her: she've hit en!' For there appeared upon the path +the figure of Anne Garland, and, hastening on at some little +distance behind her, the swaggering shape of Festus. She became +conscious of his approach, and moved more quickly. He moved more +quickly still, and overtook her. She turned as if in answer to a +call from him, and he walked on beside her, till they were out of +sight. The old man then played upon an imaginary fiddle for about +half a minute; and, suddenly discontinuing these signs of pleasure, +went downstairs again. + + + +VII. HOW THEY TALKED IN THE PASTURES + +'You often come this way?' said Festus to Anne rather before he had +overtaken her. + +'I come for the newspaper and other things,' she said, perplexed by +a doubt whether he were there by accident or design. + +They moved on in silence, Festus beating the grass with his switch +in a masterful way. 'Did you speak, Mis'ess Anne?' he asked. + +'No,' said Anne. + +'Ten thousand pardons. I thought you did. Now don't let me drive +you out of the path. I can walk among the high grass and giltycups- +-they will not yellow my stockings as they will yours. Well, what +do you think of a lot of soldiers coming to the neighbourhood in +this way?' + +'I think it is very lively, and a great change,' she said with +demure seriousness. + +'Perhaps you don't like us warriors as a body?' + +Anne smiled without replying. + +'Why, you are laughing!' said the yeoman, looking searchingly at her +and blushing like a little fire. 'What do you see to laugh at?' + +'Did I laugh?' said Anne, a little scared at his sudden +mortification. + +'Why, yes; you know you did, you young sneerer,' he said like a +cross baby. 'You are laughing at me--that's who you are laughing +at! I should like to know what you would do without such as me if +the French were to drop in upon ye any night?' + +'Would you help to beat them off?' said she. + +'Can you ask such a question? What are we for? But you don't think +anything of soldiers.' + +O yes, she liked soldiers, she said, especially when they came home +from the wars, covered with glory; though when she thought what +doings had won them that glory she did not like them quite so well. +The gallant and appeased yeoman said he supposed her to mean +chopping off heads, blowing out brains, and that kind of business, +and thought it quite right that a tender-hearted thing like her +should feel a little horrified. But as for him, he should not mind +such another Blenheim this summer as the army had fought a hundred +years ago, or whenever it was--dash his wig if he should mind it at +all. 'Hullo! now you are laughing again; yes, I saw you!' And the +choleric Festus turned his blue eyes and flushed face upon her as +though he would read her through. Anne strove valiantly to look +calmly back; but her eyes could not face his, and they fell. 'You +did laugh!' he repeated. + +'It was only a tiny little one,' she murmured. + +'Ah--I knew you did!' thundered he. 'Now what was it you laughed +at?' + +'I only--thought that you were--merely in the yeomanry,' she +murmured slily. + +'And what of that?' + +'And the yeomanry only seem farmers that have lost their senses.' + +'Yes, yes! I knew you meant some jeering o' that sort, Mistress +Anne. But I suppose 'tis the way of women, and I take no notice. +I'll confess that some of us are no great things: but I know how to +draw a sword, don't I?--say I don't just to provoke me.' + +'I am sure you do,' said Anne sweetly. 'If a Frenchman came up to +you, Mr. Derriman, would you take him on the hip, or on the thigh?' + +'Now you are flattering!' he said, his white teeth uncovering +themselves in a smile. 'Well, of course I should draw my sword--no, +I mean my sword would be already drawn; and I should put spurs to my +horse--charger, as we call it in the army; and I should ride up to +him and say--no, I shouldn't say anything, of course--men never +waste words in battle; I should take him with the third guard, low +point, and then coming back to the second guard--' + +'But that would be taking care of yourself--not hitting at him.' + +'How can you say that!' he cried, the beams upon his face turning to +a lurid cloud in a moment. 'How can you understand military terms +who've never had a sword in your life? I shouldn't take him with +the sword at all.' He went on with eager sulkiness, 'I should take +him with my pistol. I should pull off my right glove, and throw +back my goat-skin; then I should open my priming-pan, prime, and +cast about--no, I shouldn't, that's wrong; I should draw my right +pistol, and as soon as loaded, seize the weapon by the butt; then at +the word "Cock your pistol" I should--' + +'Then there is plenty of time to give such words of command in the +heat of battle?' said Anne innocently. + +'No!' said the yeoman, his face again in flames. 'Why, of course I +am only telling you what WOULD be the word of command IF--there now! +you la--' + +'I didn't; 'pon my word I didn't!' + +'No, I don't think you did; it was my mistake. Well, then I come +smartly to Present, looking well along the barrel--along the barrel- +-and fire. Of course I know well enough how to engage the enemy! +But I expect my old uncle has been setting you against me.' + +'He has not said a word,' replied Anne; 'though I have heard of you, +of course.' + +'What have you heard? Nothing good, I dare say. It makes my blood +boil within me!' + +'O, nothing bad,' said she assuringly. 'Just a word now and then.' + +'Now, come, tell me, there's a dear. I don't like to be crossed. +It shall be a sacred secret between us. Come, now!' + +Anne was embarrassed, and her smile was uncomfortable. 'I shall not +tell you,' she said at last. + +'There it is again!' said the yeoman, throwing himself into a +despair. 'I shall soon begin to believe that my name is not worth +sixpence about here!' + +'I tell you 'twas nothing against you,' repeated Anne. + +'That means it might have been for me,' said Festus, in a mollified +tone. 'Well, though, to speak the truth, I have a good many faults, +some people will praise me, I suppose. 'Twas praise?' + +'It was.' + +'Well, I am not much at farming, and I am not much in company, and I +am not much at figures, but perhaps I must own, since it is forced +upon me, that I can show as fine a soldier's figure on the Esplanade +as any man of the cavalry.' + +'You can,' said Anne; for though her flesh crept in mortal terror of +his irascibility, she could not resist the fearful pleasure of +leading him on. 'You look very well; and some say, you are--' + +'What? Well, they say I am good-looking. I don't make myself, so +'tis no praise. Hullo! what are you looking across there for?' + +'Only at a bird that I saw fly out of that tree,' said Anne. + +'What? Only at a bird, do you say?' he heaved out in a voice of +thunder. 'I see your shoulders a-shaking, young madam. Now don't +you provoke me with that laughing! By God, it won't do!' + +'Then go away!' said Anne, changed from mirthfulness to irritation +by his rough manner. 'I don't want your company, you great bragging +thing! You are so touchy there's no bearing with you. Go away!' + +'No, no, Anne; I am wrong to speak to you so. I give you free +liberty to say what you will to me. Say I am not a bit of a +soldier, or anything! Abuse me--do now, there's a dear. I'm scum, +I'm froth, I'm dirt before the besom--yes!' + +'I have nothing to say, sir. Stay where you are till I am out of +this field.' + +'Well, there's such command in your looks that I ha'n't heart to go +against you. You will come this way to-morrow at the same time? +Now, don't be uncivil.' + +She was too generous not to forgive him, but the short little lip +murmured that she did not think it at all likely she should come +that way to-morrow. + +'Then Sunday?' he said. + +'Not Sunday,' said she. + +'Then Monday--Tuesday--Wednesday, surely?' he went on +experimentally. + +She answered that she should probably not see him on either day, +and, cutting short the argument, went through the wicket into the +other field. Festus paused, looking after her; and when he could no +longer see her slight figure he swept away his deliberations, began +singing, and turned off in the other direction. + + + +VIII. ANNE MAKES A CIRCUIT OF THE CAMP + +When Anne was crossing the last field, she saw approaching her an +old woman with wrinkled cheeks, who surveyed the earth and its +inhabitants through the medium of brass-rimmed spectacles. Shaking +her head at Anne till the glasses shone like two moons, she said, +'Ah, ah; I zeed ye! If I had only kept on my short ones that I use +for reading the Collect and Gospel I shouldn't have zeed ye; but +thinks I, I be going out o' doors, and I'll put on my long ones, +little thinking what they'd show me. Ay, I can tell folk at any +distance with these--'tis a beautiful pair for out o' doors; though +my short ones be best for close work, such as darning, and catching +fleas, that's true.' + +'What have you seen, Granny Seamore?' said Anne. + +'Fie, fie, Miss Nancy! you know,' said Granny Seamore, shaking her +head still. 'But he's a fine young feller, and will have all his +uncle's money when 'a's gone.' Anne said nothing to this, and +looking ahead with a smile passed Granny Seamore by. + +Festus, the subject of the remark, was at this time about +three-and-twenty, a fine fellow as to feet and inches, and of a +remarkably warm tone in skin and hair. Symptoms of beard and +whiskers had appeared upon him at a very early age, owing to his +persistent use of the razor before there was any necessity for its +operation. The brave boy had scraped unseen in the out-house, in +the cellar, in the wood-shed, in the stable, in the unused parlour, +in the cow-stalls, in the barn, and wherever he could set up his +triangular bit of looking-glass without observation, or extemporize +a mirror by sticking up his hat on the outside of a window-pane. +The result now was that, did he neglect to use the instrument he +once had trifled with, a fine rust broke out upon his countenance on +the first day, a golden lichen on the second, and a fiery stubble on +the third to a degree which admitted of no further postponement. + +His disposition divided naturally into two, the boastful and the +cantankerous. When Festus put on the big pot, as it is classically +called, he was quite blinded ipso facto to the diverting effect of +that mood and manner upon others; but when disposed to be envious or +quarrelsome he was rather shrewd than otherwise, and could do some +pretty strokes of satire. He was both liked and abused by the girls +who knew him, and though they were pleased by his attentions, they +never failed to ridicule him behind his back. In his cups (he knew +those vessels, though only twenty-three) he first became noisy, then +excessively friendly, and then invariably nagging. During childhood +he had made himself renowned for his pleasant habit of pouncing down +upon boys smaller and poorer than himself, and knocking their birds' +nests out of their hands, or overturning their little carts of +apples, or pouring water down their backs; but his conduct became +singularly the reverse of aggressive the moment the little boys' +mothers ran out to him, brandishing brooms, frying-pans, skimmers, +and whatever else they could lay hands on by way of weapons. He +then fled and hid behind bushes, under faggots, or in pits till they +had gone away; and on one such occasion was known to creep into a +badger's hole quite out of sight, maintaining that post with great +firmness and resolution for two or three hours. He had brought more +vulgar exclamations upon the tongues of respectable parents in his +native parish than any other boy of his time. When other youngsters +snowballed him he ran into a place of shelter, where he kneaded +snowballs of his own, with a stone inside, and used these formidable +missiles in returning their pleasantry. Sometimes he got fearfully +beaten by boys his own age, when he would roar most lustily, but +fight on in the midst of his tears, blood, and cries. + +He was early in love, and had at the time of the story suffered from +the ravages of that passion thirteen distinct times. He could not +love lightly and gaily; his love was earnest, cross-tempered, and +even savage. It was a positive agony to him to be ridiculed by the +object of his affections, and such conduct drove him into a frenzy +if persisted in. He was a torment to those who behaved humbly +towards him, cynical with those who denied his superiority, and a +very nice fellow towards those who had the courage to ill-use him. + +This stalwart gentleman and Anne Garland did not cross each other's +paths again for a week. Then her mother began as before about the +newspaper, and, though Anne did not much like the errand, she agreed +to go for it on Mrs. Garland pressing her with unusual anxiety. Why +her mother was so persistent on so small a matter quite puzzled the +girl; but she put on her hat and started. + +As she had expected, Festus appeared at a stile over which she +sometimes went for shortness' sake, and showed by his manner that he +awaited her. When she saw this she kept straight on, as if she +would not enter the park at all. + +'Surely this is your way?' said Festus. + +'I was thinking of going round by the road,' she said. + +'Why is that?' + +She paused, as if she were not inclined to say. 'I go that way when +the grass is wet,' she returned at last. + +'It is not wet now,' he persisted; 'the sun has been shining on it +these nine hours.' The fact was that the way by the path was less +open than by the road, and Festus wished to walk with her +uninterrupted. 'But, of course, it is nothing to me what you do.' +He flung himself from the stile and walked away towards the house. + +Anne, supposing him really indifferent, took the same way, upon +which he turned his head and waited for her with a proud smile. + +'I cannot go with you,' she said decisively. + +'Nonsense, you foolish girl! I must walk along with you down to the +corner.' + +'No, please, Mr. Derriman; we might be seen.' + +'Now, now--that's shyness!' he said jocosely. + +'No; you know I cannot let you.' + +'But I must.' + +'But I do not allow it.' + +'Allow it or not, I will.' + +'Then you are unkind, and I must submit,' she said, her eyes +brimming with tears. + +'Ho, ho; what a shame of me! My wig, I won't do any such thing for +the world,' said the repentant yeoman. 'Haw, haw; why, I thought +your "go away" meant "come on," as it does with so many of the women +I meet, especially in these clothes. Who was to know you were so +confoundedly serious?' + +As he did not go Anne stood still and said nothing. + +'I see you have a deal more caution and a deal less good-nature than +I ever thought you had,' he continued emphatically. + +'No, sir; it is not any planned manner of mine at all,' she said +earnestly. 'But you will see, I am sure, that I could not go down +to the hall with you without putting myself in a wrong light.' + +'Yes; that's it, that's it. I am only a fellow in the yeomanry +cavalry--a plain soldier, I may say; and we know what women think of +such: that they are a bad lot--men you mustn't speak to for fear of +losing your character--chaps you avoid in the roads--chaps that come +into a house like oxen, daub the stairs wi' their boots, stain the +furniture wi' their drink, talk rubbish to the servants, abuse all +that's holy and righteous, and are only saved from being carried off +by Old Nick because they are wanted for Boney.' + +'Indeed, I didn't know you were thought so bad of as that,' said she +simply. + +'What! don't my uncle complain to you of me? You are a favourite of +that handsome, nice old gaffer's, I know.' + +'Never.' + +'Well, what do we think of our nice trumpet-major, hey?' + +Anne closed her mouth up tight, built it up, in fact, to show that +no answer was coming to that question. + +'O now, come, seriously, Loveday is a good fellow, and so is his +father.' + +'I don't know.' + +'What a close little rogue you are! There is no getting anything +out of you. I believe you would say "I don't know," to every mortal +question, so very discreet as you are. Upon my heart, there are +some women who would say "I don't know," to "Will ye marry me?"' + +The brightness upon Anne's cheek and in her eyes during this remark +showed that there was a fair quantity of life and warmth beneath the +discretion he complained of. Having spoken thus, he drew aside that +she might pass, and bowed very low. Anne formally inclined herself +and went on. + +She had been at vexation point all the time that he was present, +from a haunting sense that he would not have spoken to her so freely +had she been a young woman with thriving male relatives to keep +forward admirers in check. But she had been struck, now as at their +previous meeting, with the power she possessed of working him up +either to irritation or to complacency at will; and this +consciousness of being able to play upon him as upon an instrument +disposed her to a humorous considerateness, and made her tolerate +even while she rebuffed him. + +When Anne got to the hall the farmer, as usual, insisted upon her +reading what he had been unable to get through, and held the paper +tightly in his skinny hand till she had agreed. He sent her to a +hard chair that she could not possibly injure to the extent of a +pennyworth by sitting in it a twelvemonth, and watched her from the +outer angle of his near eye while she bent over the paper. His look +might have been suggested by the sight that he had witnessed from +his window on the last occasion of her visit, for it partook of the +nature of concern. The old man was afraid of his nephew, physically +and morally, and he began to regard Anne as a fellow-sufferer under +the same despot. After this sly and curious gaze at her he withdrew +his eye again, so that when she casually lifted her own there was +nothing visible but his keen bluish profile as before. + +When the reading was about half-way through, the door behind them +opened, and footsteps crossed the threshold. The farmer diminished +perceptibly in his chair, and looked fearful, but pretended to be +absorbed in the reading, and quite unconscious of an intruder. Anne +felt the presence of the swashing Festus, and stopped her reading. + +'Please go on, Miss Anne,' he said, 'I am not going to speak a +word.' He withdrew to the mantelpiece and leaned against it at his +ease. + +'Go on, do ye, maidy Anne,' said Uncle Benjy, keeping down his +tremblings by a great effort to half their natural extent. + +Anne's voice became much lower now that there were two listeners, +and her modesty shrank somewhat from exposing to Festus the +appreciative modulations which an intelligent interest in the +subject drew from her when unembarrassed. But she still went on +that he might not suppose her to be disconcerted, though the ensuing +ten minutes was one of disquietude. She knew that the bothering +yeoman's eyes were travelling over her from his position behind, +creeping over her shoulders, up to her head, and across her arms and +hands. Old Benjy on his part knew the same thing, and after sundry +endeavours to peep at his nephew from the corner of his eye, he +could bear the situation no longer. + +'Do ye want to say anything to me, nephew?' he quaked. + +'No, uncle, thank ye,' said Festus heartily. 'I like to stay here, +thinking of you and looking at your back hair.' + +The nervous old man writhed under this vivisection, and Anne read +on; till, to the relief of both, the gallant fellow grew tired of +his amusement and went out of the room. Anne soon finished her +paragraph and rose to go, determined never to come again as long as +Festus haunted the precincts. Her face grew warmer as she thought +that he would be sure to waylay her on her journey home to-day. + +On this account, when she left the house, instead of going in the +customary direction, she bolted round to the further side, through +the bushes, along under the kitchen-garden wall, and through a door +leading into a rutted cart-track, which had been a pleasant +gravelled drive when the fine old hall was in its prosperity. Once +out of sight of the windows she ran with all her might till she had +quitted the park by a route directly opposite to that towards her +home. Why she was so seriously bent upon doing this she could +hardly tell but the instinct to run was irresistible. + +It was necessary now to clamber over the down to the left of the +camp, and make a complete circuit round the latter--infantry, +cavalry, sutlers, and all--descending to her house on the other +side. This tremendous walk she performed at a rapid rate, never +once turning her head, and avoiding every beaten track to keep clear +of the knots of soldiers taking a walk. When she at last got down +to the levels again she paused to fetch breath, and murmured, 'Why +did I take so much trouble? He would not, after all, have hurt me.' + +As she neared the mill an erect figure with a blue body and white +thighs descended before her from the down towards the village, and +went past the mill to a stile beyond, over which she usually +returned to her house. Here he lingered. On coming nearer Anne +discovered this person to be Trumpet-major Loveday; and not wishing +to meet anybody just now Anne passed quickly on, and entered the +house by the garden door. + +'My dear Anne, what a time you have been gone!' said her mother. + +'Yes, I have been round by another road.' + +'Why did you do that?' + +Anne looked thoughtful and reticent, for her reason was almost too +silly a one to confess. 'Well, I wanted to avoid a person who is +very busy trying to meet me--that's all,' she said. + +Her mother glanced out of the window. 'And there he is, I suppose,' +she said, as John Loveday, tired of looking for Anne at the stile, +passed the house on his way to his father's door. He could not help +casting his eyes towards their window, and, seeing them, he smiled. + +Anne's reluctance to mention Festus was such that she did not +correct her mother's error, and the dame went on: 'Well, you are +quite right, my dear. Be friendly with him, but no more at present. +I have heard of your other affair, and think it is a very wise +choice. I am sure you have my best wishes in it, and I only hope it +will come to a point.' + +'What's that?' said the astonished Anne. + +'You and Mr. Festus Derriman, dear. You need not mind me; I have +known it for several days. Old Granny Seamore called here Saturday, +and told me she saw him coming home with you across Park Close last +week, when you went for the newspaper; so I thought I'd send you +again to-day, and give you another chance.' + +'Then you didn't want the paper--and it was only for that!' + +'He's a very fine young fellow; he looks a thorough woman's +protector.' + +'He may look it,' said Anne. + +'He has given up the freehold farm his father held at Pitstock, and +lives in independence on what the land brings him. And when Farmer +Derriman dies, he'll have all the old man's, for certain. He'll be +worth ten thousand pounds, if a penny, in money, besides sixteen +horses, cart and hack, a fifty-cow dairy, and at least five hundred +sheep.' + +Anne turned away, and instead of informing her mother that she had +been running like a doe to escape the interesting heir-presumptive +alluded to, merely said 'Mother, I don't like this at all.' + + + +IX. ANNE IS KINDLY FETCHED BY THE TRUMPET-MAJOR + +After this, Anne would on no account walk in the direction of the +hall for fear of another encounter with young Derriman. In the +course of a few days it was told in the village that the old farmer +had actually gone for a week's holiday and change of air to the +Royal watering-place near at hand, at the instance of his nephew +Festus. This was a wonderful thing to hear of Uncle Benjy, who had +not slept outside the walls of Oxwell Hall for many a long year +before; and Anne well imagined what extraordinary pressure must have +been put upon him to induce him to take such a step. She pictured +his unhappiness at the bustling watering-place, and hoped no harm +would come to him. + +She spent much of her time indoors or in the garden, hearing little +of the camp movements beyond the periodical Ta-ta-ta-taa of the +trumpeters sounding their various ingenious calls for watch-setting, +stables, feed, boot-and-saddle, parade, and so on, which made her +think how clever her friend the trumpet-major must be to teach his +pupils to play those pretty little tunes so well. + +On the third morning after Uncle Benjy's departure, she was +disturbed as usual while dressing by the tramp of the troops down +the slope to the mill-pond, and during the now familiar stamping and +splashing which followed there sounded upon the glass of the window +a slight smack, which might have been caused by a whip or switch. +She listened more particularly, and it was repeated. + +As John Loveday was the only dragoon likely to be aware that she +slept in that particular apartment, she imagined the signal to come +from him, though wondering that he should venture upon such a freak +of familiarity. + +Wrapping herself up in a red cloak, she went to the window, gently +drew up a corner of the curtain, and peeped out, as she had done +many times before. Nobody who was not quite close beneath her +window could see her face; but as it happened, somebody was close. +The soldiers whose floundering Anne had heard were not Loveday's +dragoons, but a troop of the York Hussars, quite oblivious of her +existence. They had passed on out of the water, and instead of them +there sat Festus Derriman alone on his horse, and in plain clothes, +the water reaching up to the animal's belly, and Festus' heels +elevated over the saddle to keep them out of the stream, which +threatened to wash rider and horse into the deep mill-head just +below. It was plainly he who had struck her lattice, for in a +moment he looked up, and their eyes met. Festus laughed loudly, and +slapped her window again; and just at that moment the dragoons began +prancing down the slope in review order. She could not but wait a +minute or two to see them pass. While doing so she was suddenly led +to draw back, drop the corner of the curtain, and blush privately in +her room. She had not only been seen by Festus Derriman, but by +John Loveday, who, riding along with his trumpet slung up behind +him, had looked over his shoulder at the phenomenon of Derriman +beneath Anne's bedroom window and seemed quite astounded at the +sight. + +She was quite vexed at the conjunction of incidents, and went no +more to the window till the dragoons had ridden far away and she had +heard Festus's horse laboriously wade on to dry land. When she +looked out there was nobody left but Miller Loveday, who usually +stood in the garden at this time of the morning to say a word or two +to the soldiers, of whom he already knew so many, and was in a fair +way of knowing many more, from the liberality with which he handed +round mugs of cheering liquor whenever parties of them walked that +way. + +In the afternoon of this day Anne walked to a christening party at a +neighbour's in the adjoining parish of Springham, intending to walk +home again before it got dark; but there was a slight fall of rain +towards evening, and she was pressed by the people of the house to +stay over the night. With some hesitation she accepted their +hospitality; but at ten o'clock, when they were thinking of going to +bed, they were startled by a smart rap at the door, and on it being +unbolted a man's form was seen in the shadows outside. + +'Is Miss Garland here?' the visitor inquired, at which Anne +suspended her breath. + +'Yes,' said Anne's entertainer, warily. + +'Her mother is very anxious to know what's become of her. She +promised to come home.' To her great relief Anne recognized the +voice as John Loveday's, and not Festus Derriman's. + +'Yes, I did, Mr. Loveday,' said she, coming forward; 'but it rained, +and I thought my mother would guess where I was.' + +Loveday said with diffidence that it had not rained anything to +speak of at the camp, or at the mill, so that her mother was rather +alarmed. + +'And she asked you to come for me?' Anne inquired. + +This was a question which the trumpet-major had been dreading during +the whole of his walk thither. 'Well, she didn't exactly ask me,' +he said rather lamely, but still in a manner to show that Mrs. +Garland had indirectly signified such to be her wish. In reality +Mrs. Garland had not addressed him at all on the subject. She had +merely spoken to his father on finding that her daughter did not +return, and received an assurance from the miller that the precious +girl was doubtless quite safe. John heard of this inquiry, and, +having a pass that evening, resolved to relieve Mrs. Garland's mind +on his own responsibility. Ever since his morning view of Festus +under her window he had been on thorns of anxiety, and his thrilling +hope now was that she would walk back with him. + +He shifted his foot nervously as he made the bold request. Anne +felt at once that she would go. There was nobody in the world whose +care she would more readily be under than the trumpet-major's in a +case like the present. He was their nearest neighbour's son, and +she had liked his single-minded ingenuousness from the first moment +of his return home. + +When they had started on their walk, Anne said in a practical way, +to show that there was no sentiment whatever in her acceptance of +his company, 'Mother was much alarmed about me, perhaps?' + +'Yes; she was uneasy,' he said; and then was compelled by conscience +to make a clean breast of it. 'I know she was uneasy, because my +father said so. But I did not see her myself. The truth is, she +doesn't know I am come.' + +Anne now saw how the matter stood; but she was not offended with +him. What woman could have been? They walked on in silence, the +respectful trumpet-major keeping a yard off on her right as +precisely as if that measure had been fixed between them. She had a +great feeling of civility toward him this evening, and spoke again. +'I often hear your trumpeters blowing the calls. They do it +beautifully, I think.' + +'Pretty fair; they might do better,' said he, as one too +well-mannered to make much of an accomplishment in which he had a +hand. + +'And you taught them how to do it?' + +'Yes, I taught them.' + +'It must require wonderful practice to get them into the way of +beginning and finishing so exactly at one time. It is like one +throat doing it all. How came you to be a trumpeter, Mr. Loveday?' + +'Well, I took to it naturally when I was a little boy,' said he, +betrayed into quite a gushing state by her delightful interest. 'I +used to make trumpets of paper, eldersticks, eltrot stems, and even +stinging-nettle stalks, you know. Then father set me to keep the +birds off that little barley-ground of his, and gave me an old horn +to frighten 'em with. I learnt to blow that horn so that you could +hear me for miles and miles. Then he bought me a clarionet, and +when I could play that I borrowed a serpent, and I learned to play a +tolerable bass. So when I 'listed I was picked out for training as +trumpeter at once.' + +'Of course you were.' + +'Sometimes, however, I wish I had never joined the army. My father +gave me a very fair education, and your father showed me how to draw +horses---on a slate, I mean. Yes, I ought to have done more than I +have.' + +'What, did you know my father?' she asked with new interest. + +'O yes, for years. You were a little mite of a thing then; and you +used to cry when we big boys looked at you, and made pig's eyes at +you, which we did sometimes. Many and many a time have I stood by +your poor father while he worked. Ah, you don't remember much about +him; but I do!' + +Anne remained thoughtful; and the moon broke from behind the clouds, +lighting up the wet foliage with a twinkling brightness, and lending +to each of the trumpet-major's buttons and spurs a little ray of its +own. They had come to Oxwell park gate, and he said, 'Do you like +going across, or round by the lane?' + +'We may as well go by the nearest road,' said Anne. + +They entered the park, following the half-obliterated drive till +they came almost opposite the hall, when they entered a footpath +leading on to the village. While hereabout they heard a shout, or +chorus of exclamation, apparently from within the walls of the dark +buildings near them. + +'What was that?' said Anne. + +'I don't know,' said her companion. 'I'll go and see.' + +He went round the intervening swamp of watercress and brooklime +which had once been the fish-pond, crossed by a culvert the +trickling brook that still flowed that way, and advanced to the wall +of the house. Boisterous noises were resounding from within, and he +was tempted to go round the corner, where the low windows were, and +look through a chink into the room whence the sounds proceeded. + +It was the room in which the owner dined--traditionally called the +great parlour--and within it sat about a dozen young men of the +yeomanry cavalry, one of them being Festus. They were drinking, +laughing, singing, thumping their fists on the tables, and enjoying +themselves in the very perfection of confusion. The candles, blown +by the breeze from the partly opened window, had guttered into +coffin handles and shrouds, and, choked by their long black wicks +for want of snuffing, gave out a smoky yellow light. One of the +young men might possibly have been in a maudlin state, for he had +his arm round the neck of his next neighbour. Another was making an +incoherent speech to which nobody was listening. Some of their +faces were red, some were sallow; some were sleepy, some wide awake. +The only one among them who appeared in his usual frame of mind was +Festus, whose huge, burly form rose at the head of the table, +enjoying with a serene and triumphant aspect the difference between +his own condition and that of his neighbours. While the +trumpet-major looked, a young woman, niece of Anthony Cripplestraw, +and one of Uncle Benjy's servants, was called in by one of the crew, +and much against her will a fiddle was placed in her hands, from +which they made her produce discordant screeches. + +The absence of Uncle Benjy had, in fact, been contrived by young +Derriman that he might make use of the hall on his own account. +Cripplestraw had been left in charge, and Festus had found no +difficulty in forcing from that dependent the keys of whatever he +required. John Loveday turned his eyes from the scene to the +neighbouring moonlit path, where Anne still stood waiting. Then he +looked into the room, then at Anne again. It was an opportunity of +advancing his own cause with her by exposing Festus, for whom he +began to entertain hostile feelings of no mean force. + +'No; I can't do it,' he said. ''Tis underhand. Let things take +their chance.' + +He moved away, and then perceived that Anne, tired of waiting, had +crossed the stream, and almost come up with him. + +'What is the noise about?' she said. + +'There's company in the house,' said Loveday. + +'Company? Farmer Derriman is not at home,' said Anne, and went on +to the window whence the rays of light leaked out, the trumpet-major +standing where he was. He saw her face enter the beam of +candlelight, stay there for a moment, and quickly withdraw. She +came back to him at once. 'Let us go on,' she said. + +Loveday imagined from her tone that she must have an interest in +Derriman, and said sadly, 'You blame me for going across to the +window, and leading you to follow me.' + +'Not a bit,' said Anne, seeing his mistake as to the state of her +heart, and being rather angry with him for it. 'I think it was most +natural, considering the noise.' + +Silence again. 'Derriman is sober as a judge,' said Loveday, as +they turned to go. 'It was only the others who were noisy.' + +'Whether he is sober or not is nothing whatever to me,' said Anne. + +'Of course not. I know it,' said the trumpet-major, in accents +expressing unhappiness at her somewhat curt tone, and some doubt of +her assurance. + +Before they had emerged from the shadow of the hall some persons +were seen moving along the road. Loveday was for going on just the +same; but Anne, from a shy feeling that it was as well not to be +seen walking alone with a man who was not her lover, said-- + +'Mr. Loveday, let us wait here a minute till they have passed.' + +On nearer view the group was seen to comprise a man on a piebald +horse, and another man walking beside him. When they were opposite +the house they halted, and the rider dismounted, whereupon a dispute +between him and the other man ensued, apparently on a question of +money. + +''Tis old Mr. Derriman come home!' said Anne. 'He has hired that +horse from the bathing-machine to bring him. Only fancy!' + +Before they had gone many steps further the farmer and his companion +had ended their dispute, and the latter mounted the horse and +cantered away, Uncle Benjy coming on to the house at a nimble pace. +As soon as he observed Loveday and Anne, he fell into a feebler +gait; when they came up he recognized Anne. + +'And you have torn yourself away from King George's Esplanade so +soon, Farmer Derriman?' said she. + +'Yes, faith! I couldn't bide at such a ruination place,' said the +farmer. 'Your hand in your pocket every minute of the day. 'Tis a +shilling for this, half-a-crown for that; if you only eat one egg, +or even a poor windfall of an apple, you've got to pay; and a bunch +o' radishes is a halfpenny, and a quart o' cider a good tuppence +three-farthings at lowest reckoning. Nothing without paying! I +couldn't even get a ride homeward upon that screw without the man +wanting a shilling for it, when my weight didn't take a penny out of +the beast. I've saved a penn'orth or so of shoeleather to be sure; +but the saddle was so rough wi' patches that 'a took twopence out of +the seat of my best breeches. King George hev' ruined the town for +other folks. More than that, my nephew promised to come there +to-morrow to see me, and if I had stayed I must have treated en. +Hey--what's that?' + +It was a shout from within the walls of the building, and Loveday +said-- + +'Your nephew is here, and has company.' + +'My nephew HERE?' gasped the old man. 'Good folks, will you come up +to the door with me? I mean--hee--hee--just for company! Dear me, +I thought my house was as quiet as a church?' + +They went back to the window, and the farmer looked in, his mouth +falling apart to a greater width at the corners than in the middle, +and his fingers assuming a state of radiation. + +''Tis my best silver tankards they've got, that I've never used! O! +'tis my strong beer! 'Tis eight candles guttering away, when I've +used nothing but twenties myself for the last half-year!' + +'You didn't know he was here, then?' said Loveday. + +'O no!' said the farmer, shaking his head half-way. 'Nothing's +known to poor I! There's my best rummers jingling as careless as if +'twas tin cups; and my table scratched, and my chairs wrenched out +of joint. See how they tilt 'em on the two back legs--and that's +ruin to a chair! Ah! when I be gone he won't find another old man +to make such work with, and provide goods for his breaking, and +house-room and drink for his tear-brass set!' + +'Comrades and fellow-soldiers,' said Festus to the hot farmers and +yeomen he entertained within, 'as we have vowed to brave danger and +death together, so we'll share the couch of peace. You shall sleep +here to-night, for it is getting late. My scram blue-vinnied +gallicrow of an uncle takes care that there shan't be much comfort +in the house, but you can curl up on the furniture if beds run +short. As for my sleep, it won't be much. I'm melancholy! A woman +has, I may say, got my heart in her pocket, and I have hers in mine. +She's not much--to other folk, I mean--but she is to me. The little +thing came in my way, and conquered me. I fancy that simple girl! +I ought to have looked higher--I know it; what of that? 'Tis a fate +that may happen to the greatest men.' + +'Whash her name?' said one of the warriors, whose head occasionally +drooped upon his epaulettes, and whose eyes fell together in the +casual manner characteristic of the tired soldier. (It was really +Farmer Stubb, of Duddle Hole.) + +'Her name? Well, 'tis spelt, A, N--but, by gad, I won't give ye her +name here in company. She don't live a hundred miles off, however, +and she wears the prettiest cap-ribbons you ever saw. Well, well, +'tis weakness! She has little, and I have much; but I do adore that +girl, in spite of myself!' + +'Let's go on,' said Anne. + +'Prithee stand by an old man till he's got into his house!' implored +Uncle Benjy. 'I only ask ye to bide within call. Stand back under +the trees, and I'll do my poor best to give no trouble.' + +'I'll stand by you for half-an-hour, sir,' said Loveday. 'After +that I must bolt to camp.' + +'Very well; bide back there under the trees,' said Uncle Benjy. 'I +don't want to spite 'em?' + +'You'll wait a few minutes, just to see if he gets in?' said the +trumpet-major to Anne as they retired from the old man. + +'I want to get home,' said Anne anxiously. + +When they had quite receded behind the tree-trunks and he stood +alone, Uncle Benjy, to their surprise, set up a loud shout, +altogether beyond the imagined power of his lungs. + +'Man a-lost! man a-lost!' he cried, repeating the exclamation +several times; and then ran and hid himself behind a corner of the +building. Soon the door opened, and Festus and his guests came +tumbling out upon the green. + +''Tis our duty to help folks in distress,' said Festus. 'Man +a-lost, where are you?' + +''Twas across there,' said one of his friends. + +'No! 'twas here,' said another. + +Meanwhile Uncle Benjy, coming from his hiding-place, had scampered +with the quickness of a boy up to the door they had quitted, and +slipped in. In a moment the door flew together, and Anne heard him +bolting and barring it inside. The revellers, however, did not +notice this, and came on towards the spot where the trumpet-major +and Anne were standing. + +'Here's succour at hand, friends,' said Festus. 'We are all king's +men; do not fear us.' + +'Thank you,' said Loveday; 'so are we.' He explained in two words +that they were not the distressed traveller who had cried out, and +turned to go on. + +''Tis she! my life, 'tis she said Festus, now first recognizing +Anne. 'Fair Anne, I will not part from you till I see you safe at +your own dear door.' + +'She's in my hands,' said Loveday civilly, though not without +firmness, 'so it is not required, thank you.' + +'Man, had I but my sword--' + +'Come,' said Loveday, 'I don't want to quarrel. Let's put it to +her. Whichever of us she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss +Anne, which?' + +Anne would much rather have gone home alone, but seeing the +remainder of the yeomanry party staggering up she thought it best to +secure a protector of some kind. How to choose one without +offending the other and provoking a quarrel was the difficulty. + +'You must both walk home with me,' she adroitly said, 'one on one +side, and one on the other. And if you are not quite civil to one +another all the time, I'll never speak to either of you again.' + +They agreed to the terms, and the other yeomen arriving at this time +said they would go also as rearguard. + +'Very well,' said Anne. 'Now go and get your hats, and don't be +long.' + +'Ah, yes; our hats,' said the yeomanry, whose heads were so hot that +they had forgotten their nakedness till then. + +'You'll wait till we've got 'em--we won't be a moment,' said Festus +eagerly. + +Anne and Loveday said yes, and Festus ran back to the house, +followed by all his band. + +'Now let's run and leave 'em,' said Anne, when they were out of +hearing. + +'But we've promised to wait!' said the trumpet-major in surprise. + +'Promised to wait!' said Anne indignantly. 'As if one ought to keep +such a promise to drunken men as that. You can do as you like, I +shall go.' + +'It is hardly fair to leave the chaps,' said Loveday reluctantly, +and looking back at them. But she heard no more, and flitting off +under the trees, was soon lost to his sight. + +Festus and the rest had by this time reached Uncle Benjy's door, +which they were discomfited and astonished to find closed. They +began to knock, and then to kick at the venerable timber, till the +old man's head, crowned with a tasselled nightcap, appeared at an +upper window, followed by his shoulders, with apparently nothing on +but his shirt, though it was in truth a sheet thrown over his coat. + +'Fie, fie upon ye all for making such a hullaballoo at a weak old +man's door,' he said, yawning. 'What's in ye to rouse honest folks +at this time o' night?' + +'Hang me--why--it's Uncle Benjy! Haw--haw--haw ?' said Festus. +'Nunc, why how the devil's this? 'Tis I--Festus--wanting to come +in.' + +'O no, no, my clever man, whoever you be!' said Uncle Benjy in a +tone of incredulous integrity. 'My nephew, dear boy, is miles away +at quarters, and sound asleep by this time, as becomes a good +soldier. That story won't do to-night, my man, not at all.' + +'Upon my soul 'tis I,' said Festus. + +'Not to-night, my man; not to-night! Anthony, bring my +blunderbuss,' said the farmer, turning and addressing nobody inside +the room. + +'Let's break in the window-shutters,' said one of the others. + +'My wig, and we will!' said Festus. 'What a trick of the old man!' + +'Get some big stones,' said the yeomen, searching under the wall. + +'No; forbear, forbear,' said Festus, beginning to he frightened at +the spirit he had raised. 'I forget; we should drive him into fits, +for he's subject to 'em, and then perhaps 'twould be manslaughter. +Comrades, we must march! No, we'll lie in the barn. I'll see into +this, take my word for 't. Our honour is at stake. Now let's back +to see my beauty home.' + +'We can't, as we hav'n't got our hats,' said one of his +fellow-troopers--in domestic life Jacob Noakes, of Muckleford Farm. + +'No more we can,' said Festus, in a melancholy tone. 'But I must go +to her and tell her the reason. She pulls me in spite of all.' + +'She's gone. I saw her flee across park while we were knocking at +the door,' said another of the yeomanry. + +'Gone!' said Festus, grinding his teeth and putting himself into a +rigid shape. 'Then 'tis my enemy--he has tempted her away with him! +But I am a rich man, and he's poor, and rides the King's horse while +I ride my own. Could I but find that fellow, that regular, that +common man, I would--' + +'Yes?' said the trumpet-major, coming up behind him. + +'I,'--said Festus, starting round,--'I would seize him by the hand +and say, "Guard her; if you are my friend, guard her from all +harm!"' + +'A good speech. And I will, too,' said Loveday heartily. + +'And now for shelter,' said Festus to his companions. + +They then unceremoniously left Loveday, without wishing him +good-night, and proceeded towards the barn. He crossed the park and +ascended the down to the camp, grieved that he had given Anne cause +of complaint, and fancying that she held him of slight account +beside his wealthier rival. + + + +X. THE MATCH-MAKING VIRTUES OF A DOUBLE GARDEN + +Anne was so flurried by the military incidents attending her return +home that she was almost afraid to venture alone outside her +mother's premises. Moreover, the numerous soldiers, regular and +otherwise, that haunted Overcombe and its neighbourhood, were +getting better acquainted with the villagers, and the result was +that they were always standing at garden gates, walking in the +orchards, or sitting gossiping just within cottage doors, with the +bowls of their tobacco-pipes thrust outside for politeness' sake, +that they might not defile the air of the household. Being +gentlemen of a gallant and most affectionate nature, they naturally +turned their heads and smiled if a pretty girl passed by, which was +rather disconcerting to the latter if she were unused to society. +Every belle in the village soon had a lover, and when the belles +were all allotted those who scarcely deserved that title had their +turn, many of the soldiers being not at all particular about +half-an-inch of nose more or less, a trifling deficiency of teeth, +or a larger crop of freckles than is customary in the Saxon race. +Thus, with one and another, courtship began to be practised in +Overcombe on rather a large scale, and the dispossessed young men +who had been born in the place were left to take their walks alone, +where, instead of studying the works of nature, they meditated gross +outrages on the brave men who had been so good as to visit their +village. + +Anne watched these romantic proceedings from her window with much +interest, and when she saw how triumphantly other handsome girls of +the neighbourhood walked by on the gorgeous arms of Lieutenant +Knockheelmann, Cornet Flitzenhart, and Captain Klaspenkissen, of the +thrilling York Hussars, who swore the most picturesque foreign +oaths, and had a wonderful sort of estate or property called the +Vaterland in their country across the sea, she was filled with a +sense of her own loneliness. It made her think of things which she +tried to forget, and to look into a little drawer at something soft +and brown that lay in a curl there, wrapped in paper. At last she +could bear it no longer, and went downstairs. + +'Where are you going?' said Mrs. Garland. + +'To see the folks, because I am so gloomy!' + +'Certainly not at present, Anne.' + +'Why not, mother?' said Anne, blushing with an indefinite sense of +being very wicked. + +'Because you must not. I have been going to tell you several times +not to go into the street at this time of day. Why not walk in the +morning? There's young Mr. Derriman would be glad to--' + +'Don't mention him, mother, don't!' + +'Well then, dear, walk in the garden.' + +So poor Anne, who really had not the slightest wish to throw her +heart away upon a soldier, but merely wanted to displace old +thoughts by new, turned into the inner garden from day to day, and +passed a good many hours there, the pleasant birds singing to her, +and the delightful butterflies alighting on her hat, and the horrid +ants running up her stockings. + +This garden was undivided from Loveday's, the two having originally +been the single garden of the whole house. It was a quaint old +place, enclosed by a thorn hedge so shapely and dense from incessant +clipping that the mill-boy could walk along the top without sinking +in--a feat which he often performed as a means of filling out his +day's work. The soil within was of that intense fat blackness which +is only seen after a century of constant cultivation. The paths +were grassed over, so that people came and went upon them without +being heard. The grass harboured slugs, and on this account the +miller was going to replace it by gravel as soon as he had time; but +as he had said this for thirty years without doing it, the grass and +the slugs seemed likely to remain. + +The miller's man attended to Mrs. Garland's piece of the garden as +well as to the larger portion, digging, planting, and weeding +indifferently in both, the miller observing with reason that it was +not worth while for a helpless widow lady to hire a man for her +little plot when his man, working alongside, could tend it without +much addition to his labour. The two households were on this +account even more closely united in the garden than within the mill. +Out there they were almost one family, and they talked from plot to +plot with a zest and animation which Mrs. Garland could never have +anticipated when she first removed thither after her husband's +death. + +The lower half of the garden, farthest from the road, was the most +snug and sheltered part of this snug and sheltered enclosure, and it +was well watered as the land of Lot. Three small brooks, about a +yard wide, ran with a tinkling sound from side to side between the +plots, crossing the path under wood slabs laid as bridges, and +passing out of the garden through little tunnels in the hedge. The +brooks were so far overhung at their brinks by grass and garden +produce that, had it not been for their perpetual babbling, few +would have noticed that they were there. This was where Anne liked +best to linger when her excursions became restricted to her own +premises; and in a spot of the garden not far removed the +trumpet-major loved to linger also. + +Having by virtue of his office no stable duty to perform, he came +down from the camp to the mill almost every day; and Anne, finding +that he adroitly walked and sat in his father's portion of the +garden whenever she did so in the other half, could not help smiling +and speaking to him. So his epaulettes and blue jacket, and Anne's +yellow gipsy hat, were often seen in different parts of the garden +at the same time; but he never intruded into her part of the +enclosure, nor did she into Loveday's. She always spoke to him when +she saw him there, and he replied in deep, firm accents across the +gooseberry bushes, or through the tall rows of flowering peas, as +the case might be. He thus gave her accounts at fifteen paces of +his experiences in camp, in quarters, in Flanders, and elsewhere; of +the difference between line and column, of forced marches, +billeting, and such-like, together with his hopes of promotion. +Anne listened at first indifferently; but knowing no one else so +good-natured and experienced, she grew interested in him as in a +brother. By degrees his gold lace, buckles, and spurs lost all +their strangeness and were as familiar to her as her own clothes. + +At last Mrs. Garland noticed this growing friendship, and began to +despair of her motherly scheme of uniting Anne to the moneyed +Festus. Why she could not take prompt steps to check interference +with her plans arose partly from her nature, which was the reverse +of managing, and partly from a new emotional circumstance with which +she found it difficult to reckon. The near neighbourhood that had +produced the friendship of Anne for John Loveday was slowly +effecting a warmer liking between her mother and his father. + +Thus the month of July passed. The troop horses came with the +regularity of clockwork twice a day down to drink under her window, +and, as the weather grew hotter, kicked up their heels and shook +their heads furiously under the maddening sting of the dun-fly. The +green leaves in the garden became of a darker dye, the gooseberries +ripened, and the three brooks were reduced to half their winter +volume. + +At length the earnest trumpet-major obtained Mrs. Garland's consent +to take her and her daughter to the camp, which they had not yet +viewed from any closer point than their own windows. So one +afternoon they went, the miller being one of the party. The +villagers were by this time driving a roaring trade with the +soldiers, who purchased of them every description of garden produce, +milk, butter, and eggs at liberal prices. The figures of these +rural sutlers could be seen creeping up the slopes, laden like bees, +to a spot in the rear of the camp, where there was a kind of +market-place on the greensward. + +Mrs. Garland, Anne, and the miller were conducted from one place to +another, and on to the quarter where the soldiers' wives lived who +had not been able to get lodgings in the cottages near. The most +sheltered place had been chosen for them, and snug huts had been +built for their use by their husbands, of clods, hurdles, a little +thatch, or whatever they could lay hands on. The trumpet-major +conducted his friends thence to the large barn which had been +appropriated as a hospital, and to the cottage with its windows +bricked up, that was used as the magazine; then they inspected the +lines of shining dark horses (each representing the then high figure +of two-and-twenty guineas purchase money), standing patiently at the +ropes which stretched from one picket-post to another, a bank being +thrown up in front of them as a protection at night. + +They passed on to the tents of the German Legion, a well-grown and +rather dandy set of men, with a poetical look about their faces +which rendered them interesting to feminine eyes. Hanoverians, +Saxons, Prussians, Swedes, Hungarians, and other foreigners were +numbered in their ranks. They were cleaning arms, which they leant +carefully against a rail when the work was complete. + +On their return they passed the mess-house, a temporary wooden +building with a brick chimney. As Anne and her companions went by, +a group of three or four of the hussars were standing at the door +talking to a dashing young man, who was expatiating on the qualities +of a horse that one was inclined to buy. Anne recognized Festus +Derriman in the seller, and Cripplestraw was trotting the animal up +and down. As soon as she caught the yeoman's eye he came forward, +making some friendly remark to the miller, and then turning to Miss +Garland, who kept her eyes steadily fixed on the distant landscape +till he got so near that it was impossible to do so longer. Festus +looked from Anne to the trumpet-major, and from the trumpet-major +back to Anne, with a dark expression of face, as if he suspected +that there might be a tender understanding between them. + +'Are you offended with me?' he said to her in a low voice of +repressed resentment. + +'No,' said Anne. + +'When are you coming to the hall again?' + +'Never, perhaps.' + +'Nonsense, Anne,' said Mrs. Garland, who had come near, and smiled +pleasantly on Festus. 'You can go at any time, as usual.' + +'Let her come with me now, Mrs. Garland; I should be pleased to walk +along with her. My man can lead home the horse.' + +'Thank you, but I shall not come,' said Miss Anne coldly. + +The widow looked unhappily in her daughter's face, distressed +between her desire that Anne should encourage Festus, and her wish +to consult Anne's own feelings. + +'Leave her alone, leave her alone,' said Festus, his gaze +blackening. 'Now I think of it I am glad she can't come with me, +for I am engaged;' and he stalked away. + +Anne moved on with her mother, young Loveday silently following, and +they began to descend the hill. + +'Well, where's Mr. Loveday?' asked Mrs. Garland. + +'Father's behind,' said John. + +Mrs. Garland looked behind her solicitously; and the miller, who had +been waiting for the event, beckoned to her. + +'I'll overtake you in a minute,' she said to the younger pair, and +went back, her colour, for some unaccountable reason, rising as she +did so. The miller and she then came on slowly together, conversing +in very low tones, and when they got to the bottom they stood still. +Loveday and Anne waited for them, saying but little to each other, +for the rencounter with Festus had damped the spirits of both. At +last the widow's private talk with Miller Loveday came to an end, +and she hastened onward, the miller going in another direction to +meet a man on business. When she reached the trumpet-major and Anne +she was looking very bright and rather flurried, and seemed sorry +when Loveday said that he must leave them and return to the camp. +They parted in their usual friendly manner, and Anne and her mother +were left to walk the few remaining yards alone. + +'There, I've settled it,' said Mrs. Garland. 'Anne, what are you +thinking about? I have settled in my mind that it is all right.' + +'What's all right?' said Anne. + +'That you do not care for Derriman, and mean to encourage John +Loveday. What's all the world so long as folks are happy! Child, +don't take any notice of what I have said about Festus, and don't +meet him any more.' + +'What a weathercock you are, mother! Why should you say that just +now?' + +'It is easy to call me a weathercock,' said the matron, putting on +the look of a good woman; 'but I have reasoned it out, and at last, +thank God, I have got over my ambition. The Lovedays are our true +and only friends, and Mr. Festus Derriman, with all his money, is +nothing to us at all.' + +'But,' said Anne, 'what has made you change all of a sudden from +what you have said before?' + +'My feelings and my reason, which I am thankful for!' + +Anne knew that her mother's sentiments were naturally so versatile +that they could not be depended on for two days together; but it did +not occur to her for the moment that a change had been helped on in +the present case by a romantic talk between Mrs. Garland and the +miller. But Mrs. Garland could not keep the secret long. She +chatted gaily as she walked, and before they had entered the house +she said, 'What do you think Mr Loveday has been saying to me, dear +Anne?' + +Anne did not know at all. + +'Why, he has asked me to marry him.' + + + +XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY + +To explain the miller's sudden proposal it is only necessary to go +back to that moment when Anne, Festus, and Mrs. Garland were talking +together on the down. John Loveday had fallen behind so as not to +interfere with a meeting in which he was decidedly superfluous; and +his father, who guessed the trumpet-major's secret, watched his face +as he stood. John's face was sad, and his eyes followed Mrs. +Garland's encouraging manner to Festus in a way which plainly said +that every parting of her lips was tribulation to him. The miller +loved his son as much as any miller or private gentleman could do, +and he was pained to see John's gloom at such a trivial +circumstance. So what did he resolve but to help John there and +then by precipitating a matter which, had he himself been the only +person concerned, he would have delayed for another six months. + +He had long liked the society of his impulsive, tractable neighbour, +Mrs. Garland; had mentally taken her up and pondered her in +connexion with the question whether it would not be for the +happiness of both if she were to share his home, even though she was +a little his superior in antecedents and knowledge. In fact he +loved her; not tragically, but to a very creditable extent for his +years; that is, next to his sons, Bob and John, though he knew very +well of that ploughed-ground appearance near the corners of her once +handsome eyes, and that the little depression in her right cheek was +not the lingering dimple it was poetically assumed to be, but a +result of the abstraction of some worn-out nether millstones within +the cheek by Rootle, the Budmouth man, who lived by such practices +on the heads of the elderly. But what of that, when he had lost two +to each one of hers, and exceeded her in age by some eight years! +To do John a service, then, he quickened his designs, and put the +question to her while they were standing under the eyes of the +younger pair. + +Mrs. Garland, though she had been interested in the miller for a +long time, and had for a moment now and then thought on this +question as far as, 'Suppose he should, 'If he were to,' and so on, +had never thought much further; and she was really taken by surprise +when the question came. She answered without affectation that she +would think over the proposal; and thus they parted. + +Her mother's infirmity of purpose set Anne thinking, and she was +suddenly filled with a conviction that in such a case she ought to +have some purpose herself. Mrs. Garland's complacency at the +miller's offer had, in truth, amazed her. While her mother had held +up her head, and recommended Festus, it had seemed a very pretty +thing to rebel; but the pressure being removed an awful sense of her +own responsibility took possession of her mind. As there was no +longer anybody to be wise or ambitious for her, surely she should be +wise and ambitious for herself, discountenance her mother's +attachment, and encourage Festus in his addresses, for her own and +her mother's good. There had been a time when a Loveday thrilled +her own heart; but that was long ago, before she had thought of +position or differences. To wake into cold daylight like this, when +and because her mother had gone into the land of romance, was +dreadful and new to her, and like an increase of years without +living them. + +But it was easier to think that she ought to marry the yeoman than +to take steps for doing it; and she went on living just as before, +only with a little more thoughtfulness in her eyes. + +Two days after the visit to the camp, when she was again in the +garden, Soldier Loveday said to her, at a distance of five rows of +beans and a parsley-bed-- + +'You have heard the news, Miss Garland?' + +'No,' said Anne, without looking up from a book she was reading. + +'The King is coming to-morrow.' + +'The King?' She looked up then. + +'Yes; to Gloucester Lodge; and he will pass this way. He can't +arrive till long past the middle of the night, if what they say is +true, that he is timed to change horses at Woodyates Inn--between +Mid and South Wessex--at twelve o'clock,' continued Loveday, +encouraged by her interest to cut off the parsley-bed from the +distance between them. + +Miller Loveday came round the corner of the house. + +'Have ye heard about the King coming, Miss Maidy Anne?' he said. + +Anne said that she had just heard of it; and the trumpet-major, who +hardly welcomed his father at such a moment, explained what he knew +of the matter. + +'And you will go with your regiment to meet 'en, I suppose?' said +old Loveday. + +Young Loveday said that the men of the German Legion were to perform +that duty. And turning half from his father, and half towards Anne, +he added, in a tentative tone, that he thought he might get leave +for the night, if anybody would like to be taken to the top of the +Ridgeway over which the royal party must pass. + +Anne, knowing by this time of the budding hope in the gallant +dragoon's mind, and not wishing to encourage it, said, 'I don't want +to go.' + +The miller looked disappointed as well as John. + +'Your mother might like to?' + +'Yes, I am going indoors, and I'll ask her if you wish me to,' said +she. + +She went indoors and rather coldly told her mother of the proposal. +Mrs. Garland, though she had determined not to answer the miller's +question on matrimony just yet, was quite ready for this jaunt, and +in spite of Anne she sailed off at once to the garden to hear more +about it. When she re-entered, she said-- + +'Anne, I have not seen the King or the King's horses for these many +years; and I am going.' + +'Ah, it is well to be you, mother,' said Anne, in an elderly tone. + +'Then you won't come with us?' said Mrs. Garland, rather rebuffed. + +'I have very different things to think of,' said her daughter with +virtuous emphasis, 'than going to see sights at that time of night.' + +Mrs. Garland was sorry, but resolved to adhere to the arrangement. +The night came on; and it having gone abroad that the King would +pass by the road, many of the villagers went out to see the +procession. When the two Lovedays and Mrs. Garland were gone, Anne +bolted the door for security, and sat down to think again on her +grave responsibilities in the choice of a husband, now that her +natural guardian could no longer be trusted. + +A knock came to the door. + +Anne's instinct was at once to be silent, that the comer might think +the family had retired. + +The knocking person, however, was not to be easily persuaded. He +had in fact seen rays of light over the top of the shutter, and, +unable to get an answer, went on to the door of the mill, which was +still going, the miller sometimes grinding all night when busy. The +grinder accompanied the stranger to Mrs. Garland's door. + +'The daughter is certainly at home, sir,' said the grinder. 'I'll +go round to t'other side, and see if she's there, Master Derriman.' + +'I want to take her out to see the King,' said Festus. + +Anne had started at the sound of the voice. No opportunity could +have been better for carrying out her new convictions on the +disposal of her hand. But in her mortal dislike of Festus, Anne +forgot her principles, and her idea of keeping herself above the +Lovedays. Tossing on her hat and blowing out the candle, she +slipped out at the back door, and hastily followed in the direction +that her mother and the rest had taken. She overtook them as they +were beginning to climb the hill. + +'What! you have altered your mind after all?' said the widow. 'How +came you to do that, my dear?' + +'I thought I might as well come,' said Anne. + +'To be sure you did,' said the miller heartily. 'A good deal better +than biding at home there.' + +John said nothing, though she could almost see through the gloom how +glad he was that she had altered her mind. When they reached the +ridge over which the highway stretched they found many of their +neighbours who had got there before them idling on the grass border +between the roadway and the hedge, enjoying a sort of midnight +picnic, which it was easy to do, the air being still and dry. Some +carriages were also standing near, though most people of the +district who possessed four wheels, or even two, had driven into the +town to await the King there. From this height could be seen in the +distance the position of the watering-place, an additional number of +lanterns, lamps, and candles having been lighted to-night by the +loyal burghers to grace the royal entry, if it should occur before +dawn. + +Mrs. Garland touched Anne's elbow several times as they walked, and +the young woman at last understood that this was meant as a hint to +her to take the trumpet-major's arm, which its owner was rather +suggesting than offering to her. Anne wondered what infatuation was +possessing her mother, declined to take the arm, and contrived to +get in front with the miller, who mostly kept in the van to guide +the others' footsteps. The trumpet-major was left with Mrs. +Garland, and Anne's encouraging pursuit of them induced him to say a +few words to the former. + +'By your leave, ma'am, I'll speak to you on something that concerns +my mind very much indeed?' + +'Certainly.' + +'It is my wish to be allowed to pay my addresses to your daughter.' + +'I thought you meant that,' said Mrs. Garland simply. + +'And you'll not object?' + +'I shall leave it to her. I don't think she will agree, even if I +do.' + +The soldier sighed, and seemed helpless. 'Well, I can but ask her,' +he said. + +The spot on which they had finally chosen to wait for the King was +by a field gate, whence the white road could be seen for a long +distance northwards by day, and some little distance now. They +lingered and lingered, but no King came to break the silence of that +beautiful summer night. As half-hour after half-hour glided by, and +nobody came, Anne began to get weary; she knew why her mother did +not propose to go back, and regretted the reason. She would have +proposed it herself, but that Mrs. Garland seemed so cheerful, and +as wide awake as at noonday, so that it was almost a cruelty to +disturb her. + +The trumpet-major at last made up his mind, and tried to draw Anne +into a private conversation. The feeling which a week ago had been +a vague and piquant aspiration, was to-day altogether too lively for +the reasoning of this warm-hearted soldier to regulate. So he +persevered in his intention to catch her alone, and at last, in +spite of her manoeuvres to the contrary, he succeeded. The miller +and Mrs. Garland had walked about fifty yards further on, and Anne +and himself were left standing by the gate. + +But the gallant musician's soul was so much disturbed by tender +vibrations and by the sense of his presumption that he could not +begin; and it may be questioned if he would ever have broached the +subject at all, had not a distant church clock opportunely assisted +him by striking the hour of three. The trumpet-major heaved a +breath of relief. + +'That clock strikes in G sharp,' he said. + +'Indeed--G sharp?' said Anne civilly. + +'Yes. 'Tis a fine-toned bell. I used to notice that note when I +was a boy.' + +'Did you--the very same?' + +'Yes; and since then I had a wager about that bell with the +bandmaster of the North Wessex Militia. He said the note was G; I +said it wasn't. When we found it G sharp we didn't know how to +settle it.' + +'It is not a deep note for a clock.' + +'O no! The finest tenor bell about here is the bell of Peter's, +Casterbridge--in E flat. Tum-m-m-m--that's the note--tum-m-m-m.' +The trumpet-major sounded from far down his throat what he +considered to be E flat, with a parenthetic sense of luxury +unquenchable even by his present distraction. + +'Shall we go on to where my mother is?' said Anne, less impressed by +the beauty of the note than the trumpet-major himself was. + +'In one minute,' he said tremulously. 'Talking of music--I fear you +don't think the rank of a trumpet-major much to compare with your +own?' + +'I do. I think a trumpet-major a very respectable man.' + +'I am glad to hear you say that. It is given out by the King's +command that trumpet-majors are to be considered respectable.' + +'Indeed! Then I am, by chance, more loyal than I thought for.' + +'I get a good deal a year extra to the trumpeters, because of my +position.' + +'That's very nice.' + +'And I am not supposed ever to drink with the trumpeters who serve +beneath me.' + +'Naturally.' + +'And, by the orders of the War Office, I am to exert over them +(that's the government word) exert over them full authority; and if +any one behaves towards me with the least impropriety, or neglects +my orders, he is to be confined and reported.' + +'It is really a dignified post,' she said, with, however, a reserve +of enthusiasm which was not altogether encouraging. + +'And of course some day I shall,' stammered the dragoon--'shall be +in rather a better position than I am at present.' + +'I am glad to hear it, Mr. Loveday.' + +'And in short, Mistress Anne,' continued John Loveday bravely and +desperately, 'may I pay court to you in the hope that--no, no, don't +go away!--you haven't heard yet--that you may make me the happiest +of men; not yet, but when peace is proclaimed and all is smooth and +easy again? I can't put it any better, though there's more to be +explained.' + +'This is most awkward,' said Anne, evidently with pain. 'I cannot +possibly agree; believe me, Mr. Loveday, I cannot.' + +'But there's more than this. You would be surprised to see what +snug rooms the married trumpet- and sergeant-majors have in +quarters.' + +'Barracks are not all; consider camp and war.' + +'That brings me to my strong point!' exclaimed the soldier +hopefully. 'My father is better off than most non-commissioned +officers' fathers; and there's always a home for you at his house in +any emergency. I can tell you privately that he has enough to keep +us both, and if you wouldn't hear of barracks, well, peace once +established, I'd live at home as a miller and farmer--next door to +your own mother.' + +'My mother would be sure to object,' expostulated Anne. + +'No; she leaves it all to you.' + +'What! you have asked her?' said Anne, with surprise. + +'Yes. I thought it would not be honourable to act otherwise.' + +'That's very good of you,' said Anne, her face warming with a +generous sense of his straightforwardness. 'But my mother is so +entirely ignorant of a soldier's life, and the life of a soldier's +wife--she is so simple in all such matters, that I cannot listen to +you any more readily for what she may say.' + +'Then it is all over for me,' said the poor trumpet-major, wiping +his face and putting away his handkerchief with an air of finality. + +Anne was silent. Any woman who has ever tried will know without +explanation what an unpalatable task it is to dismiss, even when she +does not love him, a man who has all the natural and moral qualities +she would desire, and only fails in the social. Would-be lovers are +not so numerous, even with the best women, that the sacrifice of one +can be felt as other than a good thing wasted, in a world where +there are few good things. + +'You are not angry, Miss Garland?' said he, finding that she did not +speak. + +'O no. Don't let us say anything more about this now.' And she +moved on. + +When she drew near to the miller and her mother she perceived that +they were engaged in a conversation of that peculiar kind which is +all the more full and communicative from the fact of definitive +words being few. In short, here the game was succeeding which with +herself had failed. It was pretty clear from the symptoms, marks, +tokens, telegraphs, and general byplay between widower and widow, +that Miller Loveday must have again said to Mrs. Garland some such +thing as he had said before, with what result this time she did not +know. + +As the situation was delicate, Anne halted awhile apart from them. +The trumpet-major, quite ignorant of how his cause was entered into +by the white-coated man in the distance (for his father had not yet +told him of his designs upon Mrs. Garland), did not advance, but +stood still by the gate, as though he were attending a princess, +waiting till he should be called up. Thus they lingered, and the +day began to break. Mrs. Garland and the miller took no heed of the +time, and what it was bringing to earth and sky, so occupied were +they with themselves; but Anne in her place and the trumpet-major in +his, each in private thought of no bright kind, watched the gradual +glory of the east through all its tones and changes. The world of +birds and insects got lively, the blue and the yellow and the gold +of Loveday's uniform again became distinct; the sun bored its way +upward, the fields, the trees, and the distant landscape kindled to +flame, and the trumpet-major, backed by a lilac shadow as tall as a +steeple, blazed in the rays like a very god of war. + +It was half-past three o'clock. A short time after, a rattle of +horses and wheels reached their ears from the quarter in which they +gazed, and there appeared upon the white line of road a moving mass, +which presently ascended the hill and drew near. + +Then there arose a huzza from the few knots of watchers gathered +there, and they cried, 'Long live King Jarge!' The cortege passed +abreast. It consisted of three travelling-carriages, escorted by a +detachment of the German Legion. Anne was told to look in the first +carriage--a post-chariot drawn by four horses--for the King and +Queen, and was rewarded by seeing a profile reminding her of the +current coin of the realm; but as the party had been travelling all +night, and the spectators here gathered were few, none of the royal +family looked out of the carriage windows. It was said that the two +elder princesses were in the same carriage, but they remained +invisible. The next vehicle, a coach and four, contained more +princesses, and the third some of their attendants. + +'Thank God, I have seen my King!' said Mrs. Garland, when they had +all gone by. + +Nobody else expressed any thankfulness, for most of them had +expected a more pompous procession than the bucolic tastes of the +King cared to indulge in; and one old man said grimly that that +sight of dusty old leather coaches was not worth waiting for. Anne +looked hither and thither in the bright rays of the day, each of her +eyes having a little sun in it, which gave her glance a peculiar +golden fire, and kindled the brown curls grouped over her forehead +to a yellow brilliancy, and made single hairs, blown astray by the +night, look like lacquered wires. She was wondering if Festus were +anywhere near, but she could not see him. + +Before they left the ridge they turned their attention towards the +Royal watering-place, which was visible at this place only as a +portion of the sea-shore, from which the night-mist was rolling +slowly back. The sea beyond was still wrapped in summer fog, the +ships in the roads showing through it as black spiders suspended in +the air. While they looked and walked a white jet of smoke burst +from a spot which the miller knew to be the battery in front of the +King's residence, and then the report of guns reached their ears. +This announcement was answered by a salute from the Castle of the +adjoining Isle, and the ships in the neighbouring anchorage. All +the bells in the town began ringing. The King and his family had +arrived. + + + +XII. HOW EVERYBODY GREAT AND SMALL CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE DOWNS + +As the days went on, echoes of the life and bustle of the town +reached the ears of the quiet people in Overcombe hollow--exciting +and moving those unimportant natives as a ground-swell moves the +weeds in a cave. Travelling-carriages of all kinds and colours +climbed and descended the road that led towards the seaside borough. +Some contained those personages of the King's suite who had not kept +pace with him in his journey from Windsor; others were the coaches +of aristocracy, big and little, whom news of the King's arrival drew +thither for their own pleasure: so that the highway, as seen from +the hills about Overcombe, appeared like an ant-walk--a constant +succession of dark spots creeping along its surface at nearly +uniform rates of progress, and all in one direction. + +The traffic and intelligence between camp and town passed in a +measure over the villagers' heads. It being summer time the miller +was much occupied with business, and the trumpet-major was too +constantly engaged in marching between the camp and Gloucester Lodge +with the rest of the dragoons to bring his friends any news for some +days. + +At last he sent a message that there was to be a review on the downs +by the King, and that it was fixed for the day following. This +information soon spread through the village and country round, and +next morning the whole population of Overcombe--except two or three +very old men and women, a few babies and their nurses, a cripple, +and Corporal Tullidge--ascended the slope with the crowds from afar, +and awaited the events of the day. + +The miller wore his best coat on this occasion, which meant a good +deal. An Overcombe man in those days would have a best coat, and +keep it as a best coat half his life. The miller's had seen five +and twenty summers chiefly through the chinks of a clothes-box, and +was not at all shabby as yet, though getting singular. But that +could not be helped; common coats and best coats were distinct +species, and never interchangeable. Living so near the scene of the +review he walked up the hill, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and Anne +as usual. + +It was a clear day, with little wind stirring, and the view from the +downs, one of the most extensive in the county, was unclouded. The +eye of any observer who cared for such things swept over the +wave-washed town, and the bay beyond, and the Isle, with its pebble +bank, lying on the sea to the left of these, like a great crouching +animal tethered to the mainland. On the extreme east of the marine +horizon, St. Aldhelm's Head closed the scene, the sea to the +southward of that point glaring like a mirror under the sun. Inland +could be seen Badbury Rings, where a beacon had been recently +erected; and nearer, Rainbarrow, on Egdon Heath, where another +stood: farther to the left Bulbarrow, where there was yet another. +Not far from this came Nettlecombe Tout; to the west, Dogberry Hill, +and Black'on near to the foreground, the beacon thereon being built +of furze faggots thatched with straw, and standing on the spot where +the monument now raises its head. + +At nine o'clock the troops marched upon the ground--some from the +camps in the vicinity, and some from quarters in the different towns +round about. The approaches to the down were blocked with carriages +of all descriptions, ages, and colours, and with pedestrians of +every class. At ten the royal personages were said to be drawing +near, and soon after the King, accompanied by the Dukes of Cambridge +and Cumberland, and a couple of generals, appeared on horseback, +wearing a round hat turned up at the side, with a cockade and +military feather. (Sensation among the crowd.) Then the Queen and +three of the princesses entered the field in a great coach drawn by +six beautiful cream-coloured horses. Another coach, with four +horses of the same sort, brought the two remaining princesses. +(Confused acclamations, 'There's King Jarge!' 'That's Queen +Sharlett!' 'Princess 'Lizabeth!' 'Princesses Sophiar and Meelyer!' +etc., from the surrounding spectators.) + +Anne and her party were fortunate enough to secure a position on the +top of one of the barrows which rose here and there on the down; and +the miller having gallantly constructed a little cairn of flints, he +placed the two women thereon, by which means they were enabled to +see over the heads, horses, and coaches of the multitudes below and +around. At the march-past the miller's eye, which had been +wandering about for the purpose, discovered his son in his place by +the trumpeters, who had moved forwards in two ranks, and were +sounding the march. + +'That's John!' he cried to the widow. 'His trumpet-sling is of two +colours, d'ye see; and the others be plain.' + +Mrs. Garland too saw him now, and enthusiastically admired him from +her hands upwards, and Anne silently did the same. But before the +young woman's eyes had quite left the trumpet-major they fell upon +the figure of Yeoman Festus riding with his troop, and keeping his +face at a medium between haughtiness and mere bravery. He certainly +looked as soldierly as any of his own corps, and felt more soldierly +than half-a-dozen, as anybody could see by observing him. Anne got +behind the miller, in case Festus should discover her, and, +regardless of his monarch, rush upon her in a rage with, 'Why the +devil did you run away from me that night--hey, madam?' But she +resolved to think no more of him just now, and to stick to Loveday, +who was her mother's friend. In this she was helped by the stirring +tones which burst from the latter gentleman and his subordinates +from time to time. + +'Well,' said the miller complacently, 'there's few of more +consequence in a regiment than a trumpeter. He's the chap that +tells 'em what to do, after all. Hey, Mrs. Garland?' + +'So he is, miller,' said she. + +'They could no more do without Jack and his men than they could +without generals.' + +'Indeed they could not,' said Mrs. Garland again, in a tone of +pleasant agreement with any one in Great Britain or Ireland. + +It was said that the line that day was three miles long, reaching +from the high ground on the right of where the people stood to the +turnpike road on the left. After the review came a sham fight, +during which action the crowd dispersed more widely over the downs, +enabling Widow Garland to get still clearer glimpses of the King, +and his handsome charger, and the head of the Queen, and the elbows +and shoulders of the princesses in the carriages, and fractional +parts of General Garth and the Duke of Cumberland; which sights gave +her great gratification. She tugged at her daughter at every +opportunity, exclaiming, 'Now you can see his feather!' 'There's her +hat!' 'There's her Majesty's India muslin shawl!' in a minor form of +ecstasy, that made the miller think her more girlish and animated +than her daughter Anne. + +In those military manoeuvres the miller followed the fortunes of one +man; Anne Garland of two. The spectators, who, unlike our party, +had no personal interest in the soldiery, saw only troops and +battalions in the concrete, straight lines of red, straight lines of +blue, white lines formed of innumerable knee-breeches, black lines +formed of many gaiters, coming and going in kaleidoscopic change. +Who thought of every point in the line as an isolated man, each +dwelling all to himself in the hermitage of his own mind? One +person did, a young man far removed from the barrow where the +Garlands and Miller Loveday stood. The natural expression of his +face was somewhat obscured by the bronzing effects of rough weather, +but the lines of his mouth showed that affectionate impulses were +strong within him--perhaps stronger than judgment well could +regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, and was +plainly a seafaring man. + +Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on which +the miller had established himself, a broad-brimmed tradesman was +elbowing his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday from the base of the +barrow, and beckoned to attract his attention. Loveday went halfway +down, and the other came up as near as he could. + +'Miller,' said the man, 'a letter has been lying at the post-office +for you for the last three days. If I had known that I should see +ye here I'd have brought it along with me.' + +The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday +returning to the summit. 'What a very strange thing!' he said to +Mrs. Garland, who had looked inquiringly at his face, now very +grave. 'That was Budmouth postmaster, and he says there's a letter +for me. Ah, I now call to mind that there WAS a letter in the +candle three days ago this very night--a large red one; but +foolish-like I thought nothing o't. Who CAN that letter be from?' + +A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even of the +miller's respectable standing, that Loveday thenceforward was thrown +into a fit of abstraction which prevented his seeing any more of the +sham fight, or the people, or the King. Mrs. Garland imbibed some +of his concern, and suggested that the letter might come from his +son Robert. + +'I should naturally have thought that,' said Miller Loveday; 'but he +wrote to me only two months ago, and his brother John heard from him +within the last four weeks, when he was just about starting on +another voyage. If you'll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma'am, I'll see +if there's any Overcombe man here who is going to Budmouth to-day, +so that I may get the letter by night-time. I cannot possibly go +myself.' + +So Mr. Loveday left them for awhile; and as they were so near home +Mrs. Garland did not wait on the barrow for him to come back, but +walked about with Anne a little time, until they should be disposed +to trot down the slope to their own door. They listened to a man +who was offering one guinea to receive ten in case Buonaparte should +be killed in three months, and to other entertainments of that +nature, which at this time were not rare. Once during their +peregrination the eyes of the sailor before-mentioned fell upon +Anne; but he glanced over her and passed her unheedingly by. +Loveday the elder was at this time on the other side of the line, +looking for a messenger to the town. At twelve o'clock the review +was over, and the King and his family left the hill. The troops +then cleared off the field, the spectators followed, and by one +o'clock the downs were again bare. + +They still spread their grassy surface to the sun as on that +beautiful morning not, historically speaking, so very long ago; but +the King and his fifteen thousand armed men, the horses, the bands +of music, the princesses, the cream-coloured teams--the gorgeous +centre-piece, in short, to which the downs were but the mere mount +or margin--how entirely have they all passed and gone!--lying +scattered about the world as military and other dust, some at +Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo; some +in home churchyards; and a few small handfuls in royal vaults. + +In the afternoon John Loveday, lightened of his trumpet and +trappings, appeared at the old mill-house door, and beheld Anne +standing at hers. + +'I saw you, Miss Garland,' said the soldier gaily. + +'Where was I?' said she, smiling. + +'On the top of the big mound--to the right of the King.' + +'And I saw you; lots of times,' she rejoined. + +Loveday seemed pleased. 'Did you really take the trouble to find +me? That was very good of you.' + +'Her eyes followed you everywhere,' said Mrs. Garland from an upper +window. + +'Of course I looked at the dragoons most,' said Anne, disconcerted. +'And when I looked at them my eyes naturally fell upon the trumpets. +I looked at the dragoons generally, no more.' + +She did not mean to show any vexation to the trumpet-major, but he +fancied otherwise, and stood repressed. The situation was relieved +by the arrival of the miller, still looking serious. + +'I am very much concerned, John; I did not go to the review for +nothing. There's a letter a-waiting for me at Budmouth, and I must +get it before bedtime, or I shan't sleep a wink.' + +'I'll go, of course,' said John; 'and perhaps Miss Garland would +like to see what's doing there to-day? Everybody is gone or going; +the road is like a fair.' + +He spoke pleadingly, but Anne was not won to assent. + +'You can drive in the gig; 'twill do Blossom good,' said the miller. + +'Let David drive Miss Garland,' said the trumpet-major, not wishing +to coerce her; 'I would just as soon walk.' + +Anne joyfully welcomed this arrangement, and a time was fixed for +the start. + + + +XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD + +In the afternoon they drove off, John Loveday being nowhere visible. +All along the road they passed and were overtaken by vehicles of all +descriptions going in the same direction; among them the +extraordinary machines which had been invented for the conveyance of +troops to any point of the coast on which the enemy should land; +they consisted of four boards placed across a sort of trolly, thirty +men of the volunteer companies riding on each. + +The popular Georgian watering-place was in a paroxysm of gaiety. +The town was quite overpowered by the country round, much to the +town's delight and profit. The fear of invasion was such that six +frigates lay in the roads to ensure the safety of the royal family, +and from the regiments of horse and foot quartered at the barracks, +or encamped on the hills round about, a picket of a thousand men +mounted guard every day in front of Gloucester Lodge, where the King +resided. When Anne and her attendant reached this point, which they +did on foot, stabling the horse on the outskirts of the town, it was +about six o'clock. The King was on the Esplanade, and the soldiers +were just marching past to mount guard. The band formed in front of +the King, and all the officers saluted as they went by. + +Anne now felt herself close to and looking into the stream of +recorded history, within whose banks the littlest things are great, +and outside which she and the general bulk of the human race were +content to live on as an unreckoned, unheeded superfluity. + +When she turned from her interested gaze at this scene, there stood +John Loveday. She had had a presentiment that he would turn up in +this mysterious way. It was marvellous that he could have got there +so quickly; but there he was--not looking at the King, or at the +crowd, but waiting for the turn of her head. + +'Trumpet-major, I didn't see you,' said Anne demurely. 'How is it +that your regiment is not marching past?' + +'We take it by turns, and it is not our turn,' said Loveday. + +She wanted to know then if they were afraid that the King would be +carried off by the First Consul. Yes, Loveday told her; and his +Majesty was rather venturesome. A day or two before he had gone so +far to sea that he was nearly caught by some of the enemy's +cruisers. 'He is anxious to fight Boney single-handed,' he said. + +'What a good, brave King!' said Anne. + +Loveday seemed anxious to come to more personal matters. 'Will you +let me take you round to the other side, where you can see better?' +he asked. 'The Queen and the princesses are at the window.' + +Anne passively assented. 'David, wait here for me,' she said; 'I +shall be back again in a few minutes.' + +The trumpet-major then led her off triumphantly, and they skirted +the crowd and came round on the side towards the sands. He told her +everything he could think of, military and civil, to which Anne +returned pretty syllables and parenthetic words about the colour of +the sea and the curl of the foam--a way of speaking that moved the +soldier's heart even more than long and direct speeches would have +done. + +'And that other thing I asked you?' he ventured to say at last. + +'We won't speak of it.' + +'You don't dislike me?' + +'O no!' she said, gazing at the bathing-machines, digging children, +and other common objects of the seashore, as if her interest lay +there rather than with him. + +'But I am not worthy of the daughter of a genteel professional man-- +that's what you mean?' + +'There's something more than worthiness required in such cases, you +know,' she said, still without calling her mind away from +surrounding scenes. 'Ah, there are the Queen and princesses at the +window!' + +'Something more?' + +'Well, since you will make me speak, I mean the woman ought to love +the man.' + +The trumpet-major seemed to be less concerned about this than about +her supposed superiority. 'If it were all right on that point, +would you mind the other?' he asked, like a man who knows he is too +persistent, yet who cannot be still. + +'How can I say, when I don't know? What a pretty chip hat the elder +princess wears?' + +Her companion's general disappointment extended over him almost to +his lace and his plume. 'Your mother said, you know, Miss Anne--' + +'Yes, that's the worst of it,' she said. 'Let us go back to David; +I have seen all I want to see, Mr. Loveday.' + +The mass of the people had by this time noticed the Queen and +princesses at the window, and raised a cheer, to which the ladies +waved their embroidered handkerchiefs. Anne went back towards the +pavement with her trumpet-major, whom all the girls envied her, so +fine-looking a soldier was he; and not only for that, but because it +was well known that he was not a soldier from necessity, but from +patriotism, his father having repeatedly offered to set him up in +business: his artistic taste in preferring a horse and uniform to a +dirty, rumbling flour-mill was admired by all. She, too, had a very +nice appearance in her best clothes as she walked along--the +sarcenet hat, muslin shawl, and tight-sleeved gown being of the +newest Overcombe fashion, that was only about a year old in the +adjoining town, and in London three or four. She could not be harsh +to Loveday and dismiss him curtly, for his musical pursuits had +refined him, educated him, and made him quite poetical. To-day he +had been particularly well-mannered and tender; so, instead of +answering, 'Never speak to me like this again,' she merely put him +off with a 'Let us go back to David.' + +When they reached the place where they had left him David was gone. + +Anne was now positively vexed. 'What SHALL I do?' she said. + +'He's only gone to drink the King's health,' said Loveday, who had +privately given David the money for performing that operation. +'Depend upon it, he'll be back soon.' + +'Will you go and find him?' said she, with intense propriety in her +looks and tone. + +'I will,' said Loveday reluctantly; and he went. + +Anne stood still. She could now escape her gallant friend, for, +although the distance was long, it was not impossible to walk home. +On the other hand, Loveday was a good and sincere fellow, for whom +she had almost a brotherly feeling, and she shrank from such a +trick. While she stood and mused, scarcely heeding the music, the +marching of the soldiers, the King, the dukes, the brilliant staff, +the attendants, and the happy groups of people, her eyes fell upon +the ground. + +Before her she saw a flower lying--a crimson sweet-william--fresh +and uninjured. An instinctive wish to save it from destruction by +the passengers' feet led her to pick it up; and then, moved by a +sudden self-consciousness, she looked around. She was standing +before an inn, and from an upper window Festus Derriman was leaning +with two or three kindred spirits of his cut and kind. He nodded +eagerly, and signified to her that he had thrown the flower. + +What should she do? To throw it away would seem stupid, and to keep +it was awkward. She held it between her finger and thumb, twirled +it round on its axis and twirled it back again, regarding and yet +not examining it. Just then she saw the trumpet-major coming back. + +'I can't find David anywhere,' he said; and his heart was not sorry +as he said it. + +Anne was still holding out the sweet-william as if about to drop it, +and, scarcely knowing what she did under the distressing sense that +she was watched, she offered the flower to Loveday. + +His face brightened with pleasure as he took it. 'Thank you, +indeed,' he said. + +Then Anne saw what a misleading blunder she had committed towards +Loveday in playing to the yeoman. Perhaps she had sown the seeds of +a quarrel. + +'It was not my sweet-william,' she said hastily; 'it was lying on +the ground. I don't mean anything by giving it to you.' + +'But I'll keep it all the same,' said the innocent soldier, as if he +knew a good deal about womankind; and he put the flower carefully +inside his jacket, between his white waistcoat and his heart. + +Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in the +face, rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a +turnip-lantern. + +'Let us go away,' said Anne timorously. + +'I'll see you safe to your own door, depend upon me,' said Loveday. +'But--I had near forgot--there's father's letter, that he's so +anxiously waiting for! Will you come with me to the post-office? +Then I'll take you straight home.' + +Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad to be +off anywhere; so she accepted the suggestion, and they went along +the parade together. + +Loveday set this down as a proof of Anne's relenting. Thus in +joyful spirits he entered the office, paid the postage, and received +the letter. + +'It is from Bob, after all!' he said. 'Father told me to read it at +once, in case of bad news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a +moment.' He broke the seal and read, Anne standing silently by. + +'He is coming home TO BE MARRIED,' said the trumpet-major, without +looking up. + +Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her face at his +words, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her rather paler +than before. She disguised her agitation and then overcame it, +Loveday observing nothing of this emotional performance. + +'As far as I can understand he will be here Saturday,' he said. + +'Indeed!' said Anne quite calmly. 'And who is he going to marry?' + +'That I don't know,' said John, turning the letter about. 'The +woman is a stranger.' + +At this moment the miller entered the office hastily. + +'Come, John,' he cried, 'I have been waiting and waiting for that +there letter till I was nigh crazy!' + +John briefly explained the news, and when his father had recovered +from his astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the exact line +where his forehead joined his hair, he walked with Anne up the +street, leaving John to return alone. The miller was so absorbed in +his mental perspective of Bob's marriage, that he saw nothing of the +gaieties they passed through; and Anne seemed also so much impressed +by the same intelligence, that she crossed before the inn occupied +by Festus without showing a recollection of his presence there. + + + +XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY + +When they reached home the sun was going down. It had already been +noised abroad that miller Loveday had received a letter, and, his +cart having been heard coming up the lane, the population of +Overcombe drew down towards the mill as soon as he had gone indoors- +-a sudden flash of brightness from the window showing that he had +struck such an early light as nothing but the immediate deciphering +of literature could require. Letters were matters of public moment, +and everybody in the parish had an interest in the reading of those +rare documents; so that when the miller had placed the candle, +slanted himself, and called in Mrs. Garland to have her opinion on +the meaning of any hieroglyphics that he might encounter in his +course, he found that he was to be additionally assisted by the +opinions of the other neighbours, whose persons appeared in the +doorway, partly covering each other like a hand of cards, yet each +showing a large enough piece of himself for identification. To pass +the time while they were arranging themselves, the miller adopted +his usual way of filling up casual intervals, that of snuffing the +candle. + +'We heard you had got a letter, Maister Loveday,' they said. + +'Yes; "Southampton, the twelfth of August, dear father,"' said +Loveday; and they were as silent as relations at the reading of a +will. Anne, for whom the letter had a singular fascination, came in +with her mother and sat down. + +Bob stated in his own way that having, since landing, taken into +consideration his father's wish that he should renounce a seafaring +life and become a partner in the mill, he had decided to agree to +the proposal; and with that object in view he would return to +Overcombe in three days from the time of writing. + +He then said incidentally that since his voyage he had been in +lodgings at Southampton, and during that time had become acquainted +with a lovely and virtuous young maiden, in whom he found the exact +qualities necessary to his happiness. Having known this lady for +the full space of a fortnight he had had ample opportunities of +studying her character, and, being struck with the recollection +that, if there was one thing more than another necessary in a mill +which had no mistress, it was somebody who could play that part with +grace and dignity, he had asked Miss Matilda Johnson to be his wife. +In her kindness she, though sacrificing far better prospects, had +agreed; and he could not but regard it as a happy chance that he +should have found at the nick of time such a woman to adorn his +home, whose innocence was as stunning as her beauty. Without much +ado, therefore, he and she had arranged to be married at once, and +at Overcombe, that his father might not be deprived of the pleasures +of the wedding feast. She had kindly consented to follow him by +land in the course of a few days, and to live in the house as their +guest for the week or so previous to the ceremony. + +''Tis a proper good letter,' said Mrs. Comfort from the background. +'I never heerd true love better put out of hand in my life; and they +seem 'nation fond of one another.' + +'He haven't knowed her such a very long time,' said Job Mitchell +dubiously. + +'That's nothing,' said Esther Beach. 'Nater will find her way, very +rapid when the time's come for't. Well, 'tis good news for ye, +miller.' + +'Yes, sure, I hope 'tis,' said Loveday, without, however, showing +any great hurry to burst into the frantic form of fatherly joy which +the event should naturally have produced, seeming more disposed to +let off his feelings by examining thoroughly into the fibres of the +letter-paper. + +'I was five years a-courting my wife,' he presently remarked. 'But +folks were slower about everything in them days. Well, since she's +coming we must make her welcome. Did any of ye catch by my reading +which day it is he means? What with making out the penmanship, my +mind was drawn off from the sense here and there.' + +'He says in three days,' said Mrs. Garland. 'The date of the letter +will fix it.' + +On examination it was found that the day appointed was the one +nearly expired; at which the miller jumped up and said, 'Then he'll +be here before bedtime. I didn't gather till now that he was coming +afore Saturday. Why, he may drop in this very minute!' + +He had scarcely spoken when footsteps were heard coming along the +front, and they presently halted at the door. Loveday pushed +through the neighbours and rushed out; and, seeing in the passage a +form which obscured the declining light, the miller seized hold of +him, saying, 'O my dear Bob; then you are come!' + +'Scrounch it all, miller, don't quite pull my poor shoulder out of +joint! Whatever is the matter?' said the new-comer, trying to +release himself from Loveday's grasp of affection. It was Uncle +Benjy. + +'Thought 'twas my son!' faltered the miller, sinking back upon the +toes of the neighbours who had closely followed him into the entry. +'Well, come in, Mr. Derriman, and make yerself at home. Why, you +haven't been here for years! Whatever has made you come now, sir, +of all times in the world?' + +'Is he in there with ye?' whispered the farmer with misgiving. + +'Who?' + +'My nephew, after that maid that he's so mighty smit with?' + +'O no; he never calls here.' + +Farmer Derriman breathed a breath of relief. 'Well, I've called to +tell ye,' he said, 'that there's more news of the French. We shall +have 'em here this month as sure as a gun. The gunboats be all +ready--near two thousand of 'em--and the whole army is at Boulogne. +And, miller, I know ye to be an honest man.' + +Loveday did not say nay. + +'Neighbour Loveday, I know ye to be an honest man,' repeated the old +squireen. 'Can I speak to ye alone?' + +As the house was full, Loveday took him into the garden, all the +while upon tenter-hooks, not lest Buonaparte should appear in their +midst, but lest Bob should come whilst he was not there to receive +him. When they had got into a corner Uncle Benjy said, 'Miller, +what with the French, and what with my nephew Festus, I assure ye my +life is nothing but wherrit from morning to night. Miller Loveday, +you are an honest man.' + +Loveday nodded. + +'Well, I've come to ask a favour--to ask if you will take charge of +my few poor title-deeds and documents and suchlike, while I am away +from home next week, lest anything should befall me, and they should +be stole away by Boney or Festus, and I should have nothing left in +the wide world? I can trust neither banks nor lawyers in these +terrible times; and I am come to you.' + +Loveday after some hesitation agreed to take care of anything that +Derriman should bring, whereupon the farmer said he would call with +the parchments and papers alluded to in the course of a week. +Derriman then went away by the garden gate, mounted his pony, which +had been tethered outside, and rode on till his form was lost in the +shades. + +The miller rejoined his friends, and found that in the meantime John +had arrived. John informed the company that after parting from his +father and Anne he had rambled to the harbour, and discovered the +Pewit by the quay. On inquiry he had learnt that she came in at +eleven o'clock, and that Bob had gone ashore. + +'We'll go and meet him,' said the miller. ''Tis still light out of +doors.' + +So, as the dew rose from the meads and formed fleeces in the +hollows, Loveday and his friends and neighbours strolled out, and +loitered by the stiles which hampered the footpath from Overcombe to +the high road at intervals of a hundred yards. John Loveday, being +obliged to return to camp, was unable to accompany them, but Widow +Garland thought proper to fall in with the procession. When she had +put on her bonnet she called to her daughter. Anne said from +upstairs that she was coming in a minute; and her mother walked on +without her. + +What was Anne doing? Having hastily unlocked a receptacle for +emotional objects of small size, she took thence the little folded +paper with which we have already become acquainted, and, striking a +light from her private tinder-box, she held the paper, and curl of +hair it contained, in the candle till they were burnt. Then she put +on her hat and followed her mother and the rest of them across the +moist grey fields, cheerfully singing in an undertone as she went, +to assure herself of her indifference to circumstances. + + + +XV. 'CAPTAIN' BOB LOVEDAY OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE + +While Loveday and his neighbours were thus rambling forth, full of +expectancy, some of them, including Anne in the rear, heard the +crackling of light wheels along the curved lane to which the path +was the chord. At once Anne thought, 'Perhaps that's he, and we are +missing him.' But recent events were not of a kind to induce her to +say anything; and the others of the company did not reflect on the +sound. + +Had they gone across to the hedge which hid the lane, and looked +through it, they would have seen a light cart driven by a boy, +beside whom was seated a seafaring man, apparently of good standing +in the merchant service, with his feet outside on the shaft. The +vehicle went over the main bridge, turned in upon the other bridge +at the tail of the mill, and halted by the door. The sailor +alighted, showing himself to be a well-shaped, active, and fine +young man, with a bright eye, an anonymous nose, and of such a rich +complexion by exposure to ripening suns that he might have been some +connexion of the foreigner who calls his likeness the Portrait of a +Gentleman in galleries of the Old Masters. Yet in spite of this, +and though Bob Loveday had been all over the world from Cape Horn to +Pekin, and from India's coral strand to the White Sea, the most +conspicuous of all the marks that he had brought back with him was +an increased resemblance to his mother, who had lain all the time +beneath Overcombe church wall. + +Captain Loveday tried the house door; finding this locked he went to +the mill door: this was locked also, the mill being stopped for the +night. + +'They are not at home,' he said to the boy. 'But never mind that. +Just help to unload the things and then I'll pay you, and you can +drive off home.' + +The cart was unloaded, and the boy was dismissed, thanking the +sailor profusely for the payment rendered. Then Bob Loveday, +finding that he had still some leisure on his hands, looked musingly +east, west, north, south, and nadir; after which he bestirred +himself by carrying his goods, article by article, round to the back +door, out of the way of casual passers. This done, he walked round +the mill in a more regardful attitude, and surveyed its familiar +features one by one--the panes of the grinding-room, now as +heretofore clouded with flour as with stale hoar-frost; the meal +lodged in the corners of the window-sills, forming a soil in which +lichens grew without ever getting any bigger, as they had done since +his smallest infancy; the mosses on the plinth towards the river, +reaching as high as the capillary power of the walls would fetch up +moisture for their nourishment, and the penned mill-pond, now as +ever on the point of overflowing into the garden. Everything was +the same. + +When he had had enough of this it occurred to Loveday that he might +get into the house in spite of the locked doors; and by entering the +garden, placing a pole from the fork of an apple-tree to the +window-sill of a bedroom on that side, and climbing across like a +Barbary ape, he entered the window and stepped down inside. There +was something anomalous in being close to the familiar furniture +without having first seen his father, and its silent, impassive +shine was not cheering; it was as if his relations were all dead, +and only their tables and chests of drawers left to greet him. He +went downstairs and seated himself in the dark parlour. Finding +this place, too, rather solitary, and the tick of the invisible +clock preternaturally loud, he unearthed the tinder-box, obtained a +light, and set about making the house comfortable for his father's +return, divining that the miller had gone out to meet him by the +wrong road. + +Robert's interest in this work increased as he proceeded, and he +bustled round and round the kitchen as lightly as a girl. David, +the indoor factotum, having lost himself among the quart pots of +Budmouth, there had been nobody left here to prepare supper, and Bob +had it all to himself. In a short time a fire blazed up the +chimney, a tablecloth was found, the plates were clapped down, and a +search made for what provisions the house afforded, which, in +addition to various meats, included some fresh eggs of the elongated +shape that produces cockerels when hatched, and had been set aside +on that account for putting under the next broody hen. + +A more reckless cracking of eggs than that which now went on had +never been known in Overcombe since the last large christening; and +as Loveday gashed one on the side, another at the end, another +longways, and another diagonally, he acquired adroitness by +practice, and at last made every son of a hen of them fall into two +hemispheres as neatly as if it opened by a hinge. From eggs he +proceeded to ham, and from ham to kidneys, the result being a +brilliant fry. + +Not to be tempted to fall to before his father came back, the +returned navigator emptied the whole into a dish, laid a plate over +the top, his coat over the plate, and his hat over his coat. Thus +completely stopping in the appetizing smell, he sat down to await +events. He was relieved from the tediousness of doing this by +hearing voices outside; and in a minute his father entered. + +'Glad to welcome ye home, father,' said Bob. 'And supper is just +ready.' + +'Lard, lard--why, Captain Bob's here!' said Mrs. Garland. + +'And we've been out waiting to meet thee!' said the miller, as he +entered the room, followed by representatives of the houses of +Cripplestraw, Comfort, Mitchell, Beach, and Snooks, together with +some small beginnings of Fencible Tremlett's posterity. In the rear +came David, and quite in the vanishing-point of the composition, +Anne the fair. + +'I drove over; and so was forced to come by the road,' said Bob. + +'And we went across the fields, thinking you'd walk,' said his +father. + +'I should have been here this morning; but not so much as a +wheelbarrow could I get for my traps; everything was gone to the +review. So I went too, thinking I might meet you there. I was then +obliged to return to the harbour for the luggage.' + +Then there was a welcoming of Captain Bob by pulling out his arms +like drawers and shutting them again, smacking him on the back as if +he were choking, holding him at arm's length as if he were of too +large type to read close. All which persecution Bob bore with a +wide, genial smile that was shaken into fragments and scattered +promiscuously among the spectators. + +'Get a chair for 'n!' said the miller to David, whom they had met in +the fields and found to have got nothing worse by his absence than a +slight slant in his walk. + +'Never mind--I am not tired--I have been here ever so long,' said +Bob. 'And I--' But the chair having been placed behind him, and a +smart touch in the hollow of a person's knee by the edge of that +piece of furniture having a tendency to make the person sit without +further argument, Bob sank down dumb, and the others drew up other +chairs at a convenient nearness for easy analytic vision and the +subtler forms of good fellowship. The miller went about saying, +'David, the nine best glasses from the corner cupboard!'--'David, +the corkscrew!'--'David, whisk the tail of thy smock-frock round the +inside of these quart pots afore you draw drink in 'em--they be an +inch thick in dust!'--'David, lower that chimney-crook a couple of +notches that the flame may touch the bottom of the kettle, and light +three more of the largest candles!'--'If you can't get the cork out +of the jar, David, bore a hole in the tub of Hollands that's buried +under the scroff in the fuel-house; d'ye hear?--Dan Brown left en +there yesterday as a return for the little porker I gied en.' + +When they had all had a thimbleful round, and the superfluous +neighbours had reluctantly departed, one by one, the inmates gave +their minds to the supper, which David had begun to serve up. + +'What be you rolling back the tablecloth for, David?' said the +miller. + +'Maister Bob have put down one of the under sheets by mistake, and I +thought you might not like it, sir, as there's ladies present!' + +'Faith, 'twas the first thing that came to hand,' said Robert. 'It +seemed a tablecloth to me.' + +'Never mind--don't pull off the things now he's laid 'em down--let +it bide,' said the miller. 'But where's Widow Garland and Maidy +Anne?' + +'They were here but a minute ago,' said David. 'Depend upon it they +have slinked off 'cause they be shy.' + +The miller at once went round to ask them to come back and sup with +him; and while he was gone David told Bob in confidence what an +excellent place he had for an old man. + +'Yes, Cap'n Bob, as I suppose I must call ye; I've worked for yer +father these eight-and-thirty years, and we have always got on very +well together. Trusts me with all the keys, lends me his +sleeve-waistcoat, and leaves the house entirely to me. Widow +Garland next door, too, is just the same with me, and treats me as +if I was her own child.' + +'She must have married young to make you that, David.' + +'Yes, yes--I'm years older than she. 'Tis only my common way of +speaking.' + +Mrs. Garland would not come in to supper, and the meal proceeded +without her, Bob recommending to his father the dish he had cooked, +in the manner of a householder to a stranger just come. The miller +was anxious to know more about his son's plans for the future, but +would not for the present interrupt his eating, looking up from his +own plate to appreciate Bob's travelled way of putting English +victuals out of sight, as he would have looked at a mill on improved +principles. + +David had only just got the table clear, and set the plates in a row +under the bakehouse table for the cats to lick, when the door was +hastily opened, and Mrs. Garland came in, looking concerned. + +'I have been waiting to hear the plates removed to tell you how +frightened we are at something we hear at the back-door. It seems +like robbers muttering; but when I look out there's nobody there!' + +'This must be seen to,' said the miller, rising promptly. 'David, +light the middle-sized lantern. I'll go and search the garden.' + +'And I'll go too,' said his son, taking up a cudgel. 'Lucky I've +come home just in time!' + +They went out stealthily, followed by the widow and Anne, who had +been afraid to stay alone in the house under the circumstances. No +sooner were they beyond the door when, sure enough, there was the +muttering almost close at hand, and low upon the ground, as from +persons lying down in hiding. + +'Bless my heart!' said Bob, striking his head as though it were some +enemy's: 'why, 'tis my luggage. I'd quite forgot it!' + +'What!' asked his father. + +'My luggage. Really, if it hadn't been for Mrs. Garland it would +have stayed there all night, and they, poor things! would have been +starved. I've got all sorts of articles for ye. You go inside, and +I'll bring 'em in. 'Tis parrots that you hear a muttering, Mrs. +Garland. You needn't be afraid any more.' + +'Parrots?' said the miller. 'Well, I'm glad 'tis no worse. But how +couldst forget so, Bob?' + +The packages were taken in by David and Bob, and the first +unfastened were three, wrapped in cloths, which being stripped off +revealed three cages, with a gorgeous parrot in each. + +'This one is for you, father, to hang up outside the door, and amuse +us,' said Bob. 'He'll talk very well, but he's sleepy to-night. +This other one I brought along for any neighbour that would like to +have him. His colours are not so bright; but 'tis a good bird. If +you would like to have him you are welcome to him,' he said, turning +to Anne, who had been tempted forward by the birds. 'You have +hardly spoken yet, Miss Anne, but I recollect you very well. How +much taller you have got, to be sure!' + +Anne said she was much obliged, but did not know what she could do +with such a present. Mrs. Garland accepted it for her, and the +sailor went on--'Now this other bird I hardly know what to do with; +but I dare say he'll come in for something or other.' + +'He is by far the prettiest,' said the widow. 'I would rather have +it than the other, if you don't mind.' + +'Yes,' said Bob, with embarrassment. 'But the fact is, that bird +will hardly do for ye, ma'am. He's a hard swearer, to tell the +truth; and I am afraid he's too old to be broken of it.' + +'How dreadful!' said Mrs. Garland. + +'We could keep him in the mill,' suggested the miller. 'It won't +matter about the grinder hearing him, for he can't learn to cuss +worse than he do already!' + +'The grinder shall have him, then,' said Bob. 'The one I have given +you, ma'am, has no harm in him at all. You might take him to church +o' Sundays as far as that goes.' + +The sailor now untied a small wooden box about a foot square, +perforated with holes. 'Here are two marmosets,' he continued. +'You can't see them tonight; but they are beauties--the tufted +sort.' + +'What's a marmoset?' said the miller. + +'O, a little kind of monkey. They bite strangers rather hard, but +you'll soon get used to 'em.' + +'They are wrapped up in something, I declare,' said Mrs. Garland, +peeping in through a chink. + +'Yes, that's my flannel shirt,' said Bob apologetically. 'They +suffer terribly from cold in this climate, poor things! and I had +nothing better to give them. Well, now, in this next box I've got +things of different sorts.' + +The latter was a regular seaman's chest, and out of it he produced +shells of many sizes and colours, carved ivories, queer little +caskets, gorgeous feathers, and several silk handkerchiefs, which +articles were spread out upon all the available tables and chairs +till the house began to look like a bazaar. + +'What a lovely shawl!' exclaimed Widow Garland, in her interest +forestalling the regular exhibition by looking into the box at what +was coming. + +'O yes,' said the mate, pulling out a couple of the most bewitching +shawls that eyes ever saw. 'One of these I am going to give to that +young lady I am shortly to be married to, you know, Mrs. Garland. +Has father told you about it? Matilda Johnson, of Southampton, +that's her name.' + +'Yes, we know all about it,' said the widow. + +'Well, I shall give one of these shawls to her--because, of course, +I ought to.' + +'Of course,' said she. + +'But the other one I've got no use for at all; and,' he continued, +looking round, 'will you have it, Miss Anne? You refused the +parrot, and you ought not to refuse this.' + +'Thank you,' said Anne calmly, but much distressed; 'but really I +don't want it, and couldn't take it.' + +'But do have it!' said Bob in hurt tones, Mrs. Garland being all the +while on tenter-hooks lest Anne should persist in her absurd +refusal. + +'Why, there's another reason why you ought to!' said he, his face +lighting up with recollections. 'It never came into my head till +this moment that I used to be your beau in a humble sort of way. +Faith, so I did, and we used to meet at places sometimes, didn't we- +-that is, when you were not too proud; and once I gave you, or +somebody else, a bit of my hair in fun.' + +'It was somebody else,' said Anne quickly. + +'Ah, perhaps it was,' said Bob innocently. 'But it was you I used +to meet, or try to, I am sure. Well, I've never thought of that +boyish time for years till this minute! I am sure you ought to +accept some one gift, dear, out of compliment to those old times!' + +Anne drew back and shook her head, for she would not trust her +voice. + +'Well, Mrs. Garland, then you shall have it,' said Bob, tossing the +shawl to that ready receiver. 'If you don't, upon my life I will +throw it out to the first beggar I see. Now, here's a parcel of cap +ribbons of the splendidest sort I could get. Have these--do, Anne!' + +'Yes, do,' said Mrs. Garland. + +'I promised them to Matilda,' continued Bob; 'but I am sure she +won't want 'em, as she has got some of her own: and I would as soon +see them upon your head, my dear, as upon hers.' + +'I think you had better keep them for your bride if you have +promised them to her,' said Mrs. Garland mildly. + +'It wasn't exactly a promise. I just said, "Til, there's some cap +ribbons in my box, if you would like to have them." But she's got +enough things already for any bride in creation. Anne, now you +shall have 'em--upon my soul you shall--or I'll fling them down the +mill-tail!' + +Anne had meant to be perfectly firm in refusing everything, for +reasons obvious even to that poor waif, the meanest capacity; but +when it came to this point she was absolutely compelled to give in, +and reluctantly received the cap ribbons in her arms, blushing +fitfully, and with her lip trembling in a motion which she tried to +exhibit as a smile. + +'What would Tilly say if she knew!' said the miller slily. + +'Yes, indeed--and it is wrong of him!' Anne instantly cried, tears +running down her face as she threw the parcel of ribbons on the +floor. 'You'd better bestow your gifts where you bestow your l--l-- +love, Mr. Loveday--that's what I say!' And Anne turned her back and +went away. + +'I'll take them for her,' said Mrs. Garland, quickly picking up the +parcel. + +'Now that's a pity,' said Bob, looking regretfully after Anne. 'I +didn't remember that she was a quick-tempered sort of girl at all. +Tell her, Mrs. Garland, that I ask her pardon. But of course I +didn't know she was too proud to accept a little present--how should +I? Upon my life if it wasn't for Matilda I'd--Well, that can't be, +of course.' + +'What's this?' said Mrs. Garland, touching with her foot a large +package that had been laid down by Bob unseen. + +'That's a bit of baccy for myself,' said Robert meekly. + +The examination of presents at last ended, and the two families +parted for the night. When they were alone, Mrs. Garland said to +Anne, 'What a close girl you are! I am sure I never knew that Bob +Loveday and you had walked together: you must have been mere +children.' + +'O yes--so we were,' said Anne, now quite recovered. 'It was when +we first came here, about a year after father died. We did not walk +together in any regular way. You know I have never thought the +Lovedays high enough for me. It was only just--nothing at all, and +I had almost forgotten it.' + +It is to be hoped that somebody's sins were forgiven her that night +before she went to bed. + +When Bob and his father were left alone, the miller said, 'Well, +Robert, about this young woman of thine--Matilda what's her name?' + +'Yes, father--Matilda Johnson. I was just going to tell ye about +her.' + +The miller nodded, and sipped his mug. + +'Well, she is an excellent body,' continued Bob; 'that can truly be +said--a real charmer, you know--a nice good comely young woman, a +miracle of genteel breeding, you know, and all that. She can throw +her hair into the nicest curls, and she's got splendid gowns and +headclothes. In short, you might call her a land mermaid. She'll +make such a first-rate wife as there never was.' + +'No doubt she will,' said the miller; 'for I have never known thee +wanting in sense in a jineral way.' He turned his cup round on its +axis till the handle had travelled a complete circle. 'How long did +you say in your letter that you had known her?' + +'A fortnight.' + +'Not VERY long.' + +'It don't sound long, 'tis true; and 'twas really longer--'twas +fifteen days and a quarter. But hang it, father, I could see in the +twinkling of an eye that the girl would do. I know a woman well +enough when I see her--I ought to, indeed, having been so much about +the world. Now, for instance, there's Widow Garland and her +daughter. The girl is a nice little thing; but the old woman--O +no!' Bob shook his head. + +'What of her?' said his father, slightly shifting in his chair. + +'Well, she's, she's--I mean, I should never have chose her, you +know. She's of a nice disposition, and young for a widow with a +grown-up daughter; but if all the men had been like me she would +never have had a husband. I like her in some respects; but she's a +style of beauty I don't care for.' + +'O, if 'tis only looks you are thinking of,' said the miller, much +relieved, 'there's nothing to be said, of course. Though there's +many a duchess worse-looking, if it comes to argument, as you would +find, my son,' he added, with a sense of having been mollified too +soon. + +The mate's thoughts were elsewhere by this time. + +'As to my marrying Matilda, thinks I, here's one of the very +genteelest sort, and I may as well do the job at once. So I chose +her. She's a dear girl; there's nobody like her, search where you +will.' + +'How many did you choose her out from?' inquired his father. + +'Well, she was the only young woman I happened to know in +Southampton, that's true. But what of that? It would have been all +the same if I had known a hundred.' + +'Her father is in business near the docks, I suppose?' + +'Well, no. In short, I didn't see her father.' + +'Her mother?' + +'Her mother? No, I didn't. I think her mother is dead; but she has +got a very rich aunt living at Melchester. I didn't see her aunt, +because there wasn't time to go; but of course we shall know her +when we are married.' + +'Yes, yes, of course,' said the miller, trying to feel quite +satisfied. 'And she will soon be here?' + +'Ay, she's coming soon,' said Bob. 'She has gone to this aunt's at +Melchester to get her things packed, and suchlike, or she would have +come with me. I am going to meet the coach at the King's Arms, +Casterbridge, on Sunday, at one o'clock. To show what a capital +sort of wife she'll be, I may tell you that she wanted to come by +the Mercury, because 'tis a little cheaper than the other. But I +said, "For once in your life do it well, and come by the Royal Mail, +and I'll pay." I can have the pony and trap to fetch her, I +suppose, as 'tis too far for her to walk?' + +'Of course you can, Bob, or anything else. And I'll do all I can to +give you a good wedding feast.' + + + +XVI. THEY MAKE READY FOR THE ILLUSTRIOUS STRANGER + +Preparations for Matilda's welcome, and for the event which was to +follow, at once occupied the attention of the mill. The miller and +his man had but dim notions of housewifery on any large scale; so +the great wedding cleaning was kindly supervised by Mrs. Garland, +Bob being mostly away during the day with his brother, the +trumpet-major, on various errands, one of which was to buy paint and +varnish for the gig that Matilda was to be fetched in, which he had +determined to decorate with his own hands. + +By the widow's direction the old familiar incrustation of shining +dirt, imprinted along the back of the settle by the heads of +countless jolly sitters, was scrubbed and scraped away; the brown +circle round the nail whereon the miller hung his hat, stained by +the brim in wet weather, was whitened over; the tawny smudges of +bygone shoulders in the passage were removed without regard to a +certain genial and historical value which they had acquired. The +face of the clock, coated with verdigris as thick as a diachylon +plaister, was rubbed till the figures emerged into day; while, +inside the case of the same chronometer, the cobwebs that formed +triangular hammocks, which the pendulum could hardly wade through, +were cleared away at one swoop. + +Mrs. Garland also assisted at the invasion of worm-eaten cupboards, +where layers of ancient smells lingered on in the stagnant air, and +recalled to the reflective nose the many good things that had been +kept there. The upper floors were scrubbed with such abundance of +water that the old-established death-watches, wood-lice, and +flour-worms were all drowned, the suds trickling down into the room +below in so lively and novel a manner as to convey the romantic +notion that the miller lived in a cave with dripping stalactites. + +They moved what had never been moved before--the oak coffer, +containing the miller's wardrobe--a tremendous weight, what with its +locks, hinges, nails, dirt, framework, and the hard stratification +of old jackets, waistcoats, and knee-breeches at the bottom, never +disturbed since the miller's wife died, and half pulverized by the +moths, whose flattened skeletons lay amid the mass in thousands. + +'It fairly makes my back open and shut!' said Loveday, as, in +obedience to Mrs. Garland's direction, he lifted one corner, the +grinder and David assisting at the others. 'All together: speak +when ye be going to heave. Now!' + +The pot covers and skimmers were brought to such a state that, on +examining them, the beholder was not conscious of utensils, but of +his own face in a condition of hideous elasticity. The broken +clock-line was mended, the kettles rocked, the creeper nailed up, +and a new handle put to the warming-pan. The large household +lantern was cleaned out, after three years of uninterrupted +accumulation, the operation yielding a conglomerate of +candle-snuffs, candle-ends, remains of matches, lamp-black, and +eleven ounces and a half of good grease--invaluable as dubbing for +skitty boots and ointment for cart-wheels. + +Everybody said that the mill residence had not been so thoroughly +scoured for twenty years. The miller and David looked on with a +sort of awe tempered by gratitude, tacitly admitting by their gaze +that this was beyond what they had ever thought of. Mrs. Garland +supervised all with disinterested benevolence. It would never have +done, she said, for his future daughter-in-law to see the house in +its original state. She would have taken a dislike to him, and +perhaps to Bob likewise. + +'Why don't ye come and live here with me, and then you would be able +to see to it at all times?' said the miller as she bustled about +again. To which she answered that she was considering the matter, +and might in good time. He had previously informed her that his +plan was to put Bob and his wife in the part of the house that she, +Mrs. Garland, occupied, as soon as she chose to enter his, which +relieved her of any fear of being incommoded by Matilda. + +The cooking for the wedding festivities was on a proportionate scale +of thoroughness. They killed the four supernumerary chickens that +had just begun to crow, and the little curly-tailed barrow pig, in +preference to the sow; not having been put up fattening for more +than five weeks it was excellent small meat, and therefore more +delicate and likely to suit a town-bred lady's taste than the large +one, which, having reached the weight of fourteen score, might have +been a little gross to a cultured palate. There were also provided +a cold chine, stuffed veal, and two pigeon pies. Also thirty rings +of black-pot, a dozen of white-pot, and ten knots of tender and +well-washed chitterlings, cooked plain in case she should like a +change. + +As additional reserves there were sweetbreads, and five milts, sewed +up at one side in the form of a chrysalis, and stuffed with thyme, +sage, parsley, mint, groats, rice, milk, chopped egg, and other +ingredients. They were afterwards roasted before a slow fire, and +eaten hot. + +The business of chopping so many herbs for the various stuffings was +found to be aching work for women; and David, the miller, the +grinder, and the grinder's boy being fully occupied in their proper +branches, and Bob being very busy painting the gig and touching up +the harness, Loveday called in a friendly dragoon of John's regiment +who was passing by, and he, being a muscular man, willingly chopped +all the afternoon for a quart of strong, judiciously administered, +and all other victuals found, taking off his jacket and gloves, +rolling up his shirt-sleeves and unfastening his collar in an +honourable and energetic way. + +All windfalls and maggot-cored codlins were excluded from the apple +pies; and as there was no known dish large enough for the purpose, +the puddings were stirred up in the milking-pail, and boiled in the +three-legged bell-metal crock, of great weight and antiquity, which +every travelling tinker for the previous thirty years had tapped +with his stick, coveted, made a bid for, and often attempted to +steal. + +In the liquor line Loveday laid in an ample barrel of Casterbridge +'strong beer.' This renowned drink--now almost as much a thing of +the past as Falstaff's favourite beverage--was not only well +calculated to win the hearts of soldiers blown dry and dusty by +residence in tents on a hill-top, but of any wayfarer whatever in +that land. It was of the most beautiful colour that the eye of an +artist in beer could desire; full in body, yet brisk as a volcano; +piquant, yet without a twang; luminous as an autumn sunset; free +from streakiness of taste; but, finally, rather heady. The masses +worshipped it, the minor gentry loved it more than wine, and by the +most illustrious county families it was not despised. Anybody +brought up for being drunk and disorderly in the streets of its +natal borough, had only to prove that he was a stranger to the place +and its liquor to be honourably dismissed by the magistrates, as one +overtaken in a fault that no man could guard against who entered the +town unawares. + +In addition, Mr. Loveday also tapped a hogshead of fine cider that +he had had mellowing in the house for several months, having bought +it of an honest down-country man, who did not colour, for any +special occasion like the present. It had been pressed from fruit +judiciously chosen by an old hand--Horner and Cleeves apple for the +body, a few Tom-Putts for colour, and just a dash of Old +Five-corners for sparkle--a selection originally made to please the +palate of a well-known temperate earl who was a regular +cider-drinker, and lived to be eighty-eight. + +On the morning of the Sunday appointed for her coming Captain Bob +Loveday set out to meet his bride. He had been all the week engaged +in painting the gig, assisted by his brother at odd times, and it +now appeared of a gorgeous yellow, with blue streaks, and tassels at +the corners, and red wheels outlined with a darker shade. He put in +the pony at half-past eleven, Anne looking at him from the door as +he packed himself into the vehicle and drove off. There may be +young women who look out at young men driving to meet their brides +as Anne looked at Captain Bob, and yet are quite indifferent to the +circumstances; but they are not often met with. + +So much dust had been raised on the highway by traffic resulting +from the presence of the Court at the town further on, that brambles +hanging from the fence, and giving a friendly scratch to the +wanderer's face, were dingy as church cobwebs; and the grass on the +margin had assumed a paper-shaving hue. Bob's father had wished him +to take David, lest, from want of recent experience at the whip, he +should meet with any mishap; but, picturing to himself the +awkwardness of three in such circumstances, Bob would not hear of +this; and nothing more serious happened to his driving than that the +wheel-marks formed two serpentine lines along the road during the +first mile or two, before he had got his hand in, and that the horse +shied at a milestone, a piece of paper, a sleeping tramp, and a +wheelbarrow, just to make use of the opportunity of being in bad +hands. + +He entered Casterbridge between twelve and one, and, putting up at +the Old Greyhound, walked on to the Bow. Here, rather dusty on the +ledges of his clothes, he stood and waited while the people in their +best summer dresses poured out of the three churches round him. +When they had all gone, and a smell of cinders and gravy had spread +down the ancient high-street, and the pie-dishes from adjacent +bakehouses had all travelled past, he saw the mail coach rise above +the arch of Grey's Bridge, a quarter of a mile distant, surmounted +by swaying knobs, which proved to be the heads of the outside +travellers. + +'That's the way for a man's bride to come to him,' said Robert to +himself with a feeling of poetry; and as the horn sounded and the +horses clattered up the street he walked down to the inn. The knot +of hostlers and inn-servants had gathered, the horses were dragged +from the vehicle, and the passengers for Casterbridge began to +descend. Captain Bob eyed them over, looked inside, looked outside +again; to his disappointment Matilda was not there, nor her boxes, +nor anything that was hers. Neither coachman nor guard had seen or +heard of such a person at Melchester; and Bob walked slowly away. + +Depressed by forebodings to an extent which took away nearly a third +of his appetite, he sat down in the parlour of the Old Greyhound to +a slice from the family joint of the landlord. This gentleman, who +dined in his shirt-sleeves, partly because it was August, and partly +from a sense that they would not be so fit for public view further +on in the week, suggested that Bob should wait till three or four +that afternoon, when the road-waggon would arrive, as the lost lady +might have preferred that mode of conveyance; and when Bob appeared +rather hurt at the suggestion, the landlord's wife assured him, as a +woman who knew good life, that many genteel persons travelled in +that way during the present high price of provisions. Loveday, who +knew little of travelling by land, readily accepted her assurance +and resolved to wait. + +Wandering up and down the pavement, or leaning against some hot wall +between the waggon-office and the corner of the street above, he +passed the time away. It was a still, sunny, drowsy afternoon, and +scarcely a soul was visible in the length and breadth of the street. +The office was not far from All Saints' Church, and the +church-windows being open, he could hear the afternoon service from +where he lingered as distinctly as if he had been one of the +congregation. Thus he was mentally conducted through the Psalms, +through the first and second lessons, through the burst of fiddles +and clarionets which announced the evening-hymn, and well into the +sermon, before any signs of the waggon could be seen upon the London +road. + +The afternoon sermons at this church being of a dry and metaphysical +nature at that date, it was by a special providence that the +waggon-office was placed near the ancient fabric, so that whenever +the Sunday waggon was late, which it always was in hot weather, in +cold weather, in wet weather, and in weather of almost every other +sort, the rattle, dismounting, and swearing outside completely +drowned the parson's voice within, and sustained the flagging +interest of the congregation at precisely the right moment. No +sooner did the charity children begin to writhe on their benches, +and adult snores grow audible, than the waggon arrived. + +Captain Loveday felt a kind of sinking in his poetry at the +possibility of her for whom they had made such preparations being in +the slow, unwieldy vehicle which crunched its way towards him; but +he would not give in to the weakness. Neither would he walk down +the street to meet the waggon, lest she should not be there. At +last the broad wheels drew up against the kerb, the waggoner with +his white smock-frock, and whip as long as a fishing-line, descended +from the pony on which he rode alongside, and the six broad-chested +horses backed from their collars and shook themselves. In another +moment something showed forth, and he knew that Matilda was there. + +Bob felt three cheers rise within him as she stepped down; but it +being Sunday he did not utter them. In dress, Miss Johnson passed +his expectations--a green and white gown, with long, tight sleeves, +a green silk handkerchief round her neck and crossed in front, a +green parasol, and green gloves. It was strange enough to see this +verdant caterpillar turn out of a road-waggon, and gracefully shake +herself free from the bits of straw and fluff which would usually +gather on the raiment of the grandest travellers by that vehicle. + +'But, my dear Matilda,' said Bob, when he had kissed her three times +with much publicity--the practical step he had determined on seeming +to demand that these things should no longer be done in a corner-- +'my dear Matilda, why didn't you come by the coach, having the money +for't and all?' + +'That's my scrimping!' said Matilda in a delightful gush. 'I know +you won't be offended when you know I did it to save against a rainy +day!' + +Bob, of course, was not offended, though the glory of meeting her +had been less; and even if vexation were possible, it would have +been out of place to say so. Still, he would have experienced no +little surprise had he learnt the real reason of his Matilda's +change of plan. That angel had, in short, so wildly spent Bob's and +her own money in the adornment of her person before setting out, +that she found herself without a sufficient margin for her fare by +coach, and had scrimped from sheer necessity, + +'Well, I have got the trap out at the Greyhound,' said Bob. 'I +don't know whether it will hold your luggage and us too; but it +looked more respectable than the waggon on a Sunday, and if there's +not room for the boxes I can walk alongside.' + +'I think there will be room,' said Miss Johnson mildly. And it was +soon very evident that she spoke the truth; for when her property +was deposited on the pavement, it consisted of a trunk about +eighteen inches long, and nothing more. + +'O--that's all!' said Captain Loveday, surprised. + +'That's all,' said the young woman assuringly. 'I didn't want to +give trouble, you know, and what I have besides I have left at my +aunt's.' + +'Yes, of course,' he answered readily. 'And as it's no bigger, I +can carry it in my hand to the inn, and so it will be no trouble at +all.' + +He caught up the little box, and they went side by side to the +Greyhound; and in ten minutes they were trotting up the Southern +Road. + +Bob did not hurry the horse, there being many things to say and +hear, for which the present situation was admirably suited. The sun +shone occasionally into Matilda's face as they drove on, its rays +picking out all her features to a great nicety. Her eyes would have +been called brown, but they were really eel-colour, like many other +nice brown eyes; they were well-shaped and rather bright, though +they had more of a broad shine than a sparkle. She had a firm, +sufficient nose, which seemed to say of itself that it was good as +noses go. She had rather a picturesque way of wrapping her upper in +her lower lip, so that the red of the latter showed strongly. +Whenever she gazed against the sun towards the distant hills, she +brought into her forehead, without knowing it, three short vertical +lines--not there at other times--giving her for the moment rather a +hard look. And in turning her head round to a far angle, to stare +at something or other that he pointed out, the drawn flesh of her +neck became a mass of lines. But Bob did not look at these things, +which, of course, were of no significance; for had she not told him, +when they compared ages, that she was a little over two-and-twenty? + +As Nature was hardly invented at this early point of the century, +Bob's Matilda could not say much about the glamour of the hills, or +the shimmering of the foliage, or the wealth of glory in the distant +sea, as she would doubtless have done had she lived later on; but +she did her best to be interesting, asking Bob about matters of +social interest in the neighbourhood, to which she seemed quite a +stranger. + +'Is your watering-place a large city?' she inquired when they +mounted the hill where the Overcombe folk had waited for the King. + +'Bless you, my dear--no! 'Twould be nothing if it wasn't for the +Royal Family, and the lords and ladies, and the regiments of +soldiers, and the frigates, and the King's messengers, and the +actors and actresses, and the games that go on.' + +At the words 'actors and actresses,' the innocent young thing +pricked up her ears. + +'Does Elliston pay as good salaries this summer as in--?' + +'O, you know about it then? I thought--' + +'O no, no! I have heard of Budmouth--read in the papers, you know, +dear Robert, about the doings there, and the actors and actresses, +you know.' + +'Yes, yes, I see. Well, I have been away from England a long time, +and don't know much about the theatre in the town; but I'll take you +there some day. Would it be a treat to you?' + +'O, an amazing treat!' said Miss Johnson, with an ecstasy in which a +close observer might have discovered a tinge of ghastliness. + +'You've never been into one perhaps, dear?' + +'N--never,' said Matilda flatly. 'Whatever do I see yonder--a row +of white things on the down?' + +'Yes, that's a part of the encampment above Overcombe. Lots of +soldiers are encamped about here; those are the white tops of their +tents.' + +He pointed to a wing of the camp that had become visible. Matilda +was much interested. + +'It will make it very lively for us,' he added, 'especially as John +is there.' + +She thought so too, and thus they chatted on. + + + +XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT + +Meanwhile Miller Loveday was expecting the pair with interest; and +about five o'clock, after repeated outlooks, he saw two specks the +size of caraway seeds on the far line of ridge where the sunlit +white of the road met the blue of the sky. Then the remainder parts +of Bob and his lady became visible, and then the whole vehicle, end +on, and he heard the dry rattle of the wheels on the dusty road. +Miller Loveday's plan, as far as he had formed any, was that Robert +and his wife should live with him in the millhouse until Mrs. +Garland made up her mind to join him there; in which event her +present house would be made over to the young couple. Upon all +grounds, he wished to welcome becomingly the woman of his son's +choice, and came forward promptly as they drew up at the door. + +'What a lovely place you've got here!' said Miss Johnson, when the +miller had received her from the captain. 'A real stream of water, +a real mill-wheel, and real fowls, and everything!' + +'Yes, 'tis real enough,' said Loveday, looking at the river with +balanced sentiments; 'and so you will say when you've lived here a +bit as mis'ess, and had the trouble of claning the furniture.' + +At this Miss Johnson looked modest, and continued to do so till +Anne, not knowing they were there, came round the corner of the +house, with her prayer-book in her hand, having just arrived from +church. Bob turned and smiled to her, at which Miss Johnson looked +glum. How long she would have remained in that phase is unknown, +for just then her ears were assailed by a loud bass note from the +other side, causing her to jump round. + +'O la! what dreadful thing is it?' she exclaimed, and beheld a cow +of Loveday's, of the name of Crumpler, standing close to her +shoulder. It being about milking-time, she had come to look up +David and hasten on the operation. + +'O, what a horrid bull!--it did frighten me so. I hope I shan't +faint,' said Matilda. + +The miller immediately used the formula which has been uttered by +the proprietors of live stock ever since Noah's time. 'She won't +hurt ye. Hoosh, Crumpler! She's as timid as a mouse, ma'am.' + +But as Crumpler persisted in making another terrific inquiry for +David, Matilda could not help closing her eyes and saying, 'O, I +shall be gored to death!' her head falling back upon Bob's shoulder, +which--seeing the urgent circumstances, and knowing her delicate +nature--he had providentially placed in a position to catch her. +Anne Garland, who had been standing at the corner of the house, not +knowing whether to go back or come on, at this felt her womanly +sympathies aroused. She ran and dipped her handkerchief into the +splashing mill-tail, and with it damped Matilda's face. But as her +eyes still remained closed, Bob, to increase the effect, took the +handkerchief from Anne and wrung it out on the bridge of Matilda's +nose, whence it ran over the rest of her face in a stream. + +'O, Captain Loveday!' said Anne, 'the water is running over her +green silk handkerchief, and into her pretty reticule!' + +'There--if I didn't think so!' exclaimed Matilda, opening her eyes, +starting up, and promptly pulling out her own handkerchief, with +which she wiped away the drops, and an unimportant trifle of her +complexion, assisted by Anne, who, in spite of her background of +antagonistic emotions, could not help being interested. + +'That's right!' said the miller, his spirits reviving with the +revival of Matilda. 'The lady is not used to country life; are you, +ma'am?' + +'I am not,' replied the sufferer. 'All is so strange about here!' + +Suddenly there spread into the firmament, from the direction of the +down:-- + + 'Ra, ta, ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ra, ta, ta!' + +'O dear, dear! more hideous country sounds, I suppose?' she +inquired, with another start. + +'O no,' said the miller cheerfully. ''Tis only my son John's +trumpeter chaps at the camp of dragoons just above us, a-blowing +Mess, or Feed, or Picket, or some other of their vagaries. John +will be much pleased to tell you the meaning on't when he comes +down. He's trumpet-major, as you may know, ma'am.' + +'O yes; you mean Captain Loveday's brother. Dear Bob has mentioned +him.' + +'If you come round to Widow Garland's side of the house, you can see +the camp,' said the miller. + +'Don't force her; she's tired with her long journey,' said Mrs. +Garland humanely, the widow having come out in the general wish to +see Captain Bob's choice. Indeed, they all behaved towards her as +if she were a tender exotic, which their crude country manners might +seriously injure. + +She went into the house, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and her +daughter; though before leaving Bob she managed to whisper in his +ear, 'Don't tell them I came by waggon, will you, dear?'--a request +which was quite needless, for Bob had long ago determined to keep +that a dead secret; not because it was an uncommon mode of travel, +but simply that it was hardly the usual conveyance for a gorgeous +lady to her bridal. + +As the men had a feeling that they would be superfluous indoors just +at present, the miller assisted David in taking the horse round to +the stables, Bob following, and leaving Matilda to the women. +Indoors, Miss Johnson admired everything: the new parrots and +marmosets, the black beams of the ceiling, the double-corner +cupboard with the glass doors, through which gleamed the remainders +of sundry china sets acquired by Bob's mother in her housekeeping-- +two-handled sugar-basins, no-handled tea-cups, a tea-pot like a +pagoda, and a cream-jug in the form of a spotted cow. This +sociability in their visitor was returned by Mrs. Garland and Anne; +and Miss Johnson's pleasing habit of partly dying whenever she heard +any unusual bark or bellow added to her piquancy in their eyes. But +conversation, as such, was naturally at first of a nervous, +tentative kind, in which, as in the works of some minor poets, the +sense was considerably led by the sound. + +'You get the sea-breezes here, no doubt?' + +'O yes, dear; when the wind is that way.' + +'Do you like windy weather?' + +'Yes; though not now, for it blows down the young apples.' + +'Apples are plentiful, it seems. You country-folk call St. +Swithin's their christening day, if it rains?' + +'Yes, dear. Ah me! I have not been to a christening for these many +years; the baby's name was George, I remember--after the King.' + +'I hear that King George is still staying at the town here. I HOPE +he'll stay till I have seen him!' + +'He'll wait till the corn turns yellow; he always does.' + +'How VERY fashionable yellow is getting for gloves just now!' + +'Yes. Some persons wear them to the elbow, I hear.' + +'Do they? I was not aware of that. I struck my elbow last week so +hard against the door of my aunt's mansion that I feel the ache +now.' + +Before they were quite overwhelmed by the interest of this +discourse, the miller and Bob came in. In truth, Mrs. Garland found +the office in which he had placed her--that of introducing a strange +woman to a house which was not the widow's own--a rather awkward +one, and yet almost a necessity. There was no woman belonging to +the house except that wondrous compendium of usefulness, the +intermittent maid-servant, whom Loveday had, for appearances, +borrowed from Mrs. Garland, and Mrs. Garland was in the habit of +borrowing from the girl's mother. And as for the demi-woman David, +he had been informed as peremptorily as Pharaoh's baker that the +office of housemaid and bedmaker was taken from him, and would be +given to this girl till the wedding was over, and Bob's wife took +the management into her own hands. + +They all sat down to high tea, Anne and her mother included, and the +captain sitting next to Miss Johnson. Anne had put a brave face +upon the matter--outwardly, at least--and seemed in a fair way of +subduing any lingering sentiment which Bob's return had revived. +During the evening, and while they still sat over the meal, John +came down on a hurried visit, as he had promised, ostensibly on +purpose to be introduced to his intended sister-in-law, but much +more to get a word and a smile from his beloved Anne. Before they +saw him, they heard the trumpet-major's smart step coming round the +corner of the house, and in a moment his form darkened the door. As +it was Sunday, he appeared in his full-dress laced coat, white +waistcoat and breeches, and towering plume, the latter of which he +instantly lowered, as much from necessity as good manners, the beam +in the mill-house ceiling having a tendency to smash and ruin all +such head-gear without warning. + +'John, we've been hoping you would come down,' said the miller, 'and +so we have kept the tay about on purpose. Draw up, and speak to +Mrs. Matilda Johnson. . . . Ma'am, this is Robert's brother.' + +'Your humble servant, ma'am,' said the trumpet-major gallantly. + +As it was getting dusk in the low, small-paned room, he +instinctively moved towards Miss Johnson as he spoke, who sat with +her back to the window. He had no sooner noticed her features than +his helmet nearly fell from his hand; his face became suddenly +fixed, and his natural complexion took itself off, leaving a +greenish yellow in its stead. The young person, on her part, had no +sooner looked closely at him than she said weakly, 'Robert's +brother!' and changed colour yet more rapidly than the soldier had +done. The faintness, previously half counterfeit, seized on her now +in real earnest. + +'I don't feel well,' she said, suddenly rising by an effort. 'This +warm day has quite upset me!' + +There was a regular collapse of the tea-party, like that of the +Hamlet play scene. Bob seized his sweetheart and carried her +upstairs, the miller exclaiming, 'Ah, she's terribly worn by the +journey! I thought she was when I saw her nearly go off at the +blare of the cow. No woman would have been frightened at that if +she'd been up to her natural strength.' + +'That, and being so very shy of men, too, must have made John's +handsome regimentals quite overpowering to her, poor thing,' added +Mrs. Garland, following the catastrophic young lady upstairs, whose +indisposition was this time beyond question. And yet, by some +perversity of the heart, she was as eager now to make light of her +faintness as she had been to make much of it two or three hours ago. + +The miller and John stood like straight sticks in the room the +others had quitted, John's face being hastily turned towards a +caricature of Buonaparte on the wall that he had not seen more than +a hundred and fifty times before. + +'Come, sit down and have a dish of tea, anyhow,' said his father at +last. 'She'll soon be right again, no doubt.' + +'Thanks; I don't want any tea,' said John quickly. And, indeed, he +did not, for he was in one gigantic ache from head to foot. + +The light had been too dim for anybody to notice his amazement; and +not knowing where to vent it, the trumpet-major said he was going +out for a minute. He hastened to the bakehouse; but David being +there, he went to the pantry; but the maid being there, he went to +the cart-shed; but a couple of tramps being there, he went behind a +row of French beans in the garden, where he let off an ejaculation +the most pious that he had uttered that Sabbath day: 'Heaven! +what's to be done!' + +And then he walked wildly about the paths of the dusky garden, where +the trickling of the brooks seemed loud by comparison with the +stillness around; treading recklessly on the cracking snails that +had come forth to feed, and entangling his spurs in the long grass +till the rowels were choked with its blades. Presently he heard +another person approaching, and his brother's shape appeared between +the stubbard tree and the hedge. + +'O, is it you?' said the mate. + +'Yes. I am--taking a little air.' + +'She is getting round nicely again; and as I am not wanted indoors +just now, I am going into the village to call upon a friend or two I +have not been able to speak to as yet.' + +John took his brother Bob's hand. Bob rather wondered why. + +'All right, old boy,' he said. 'Going into the village? You'll be +back again, I suppose, before it gets very late?' + +'O yes,' said Captain Bob cheerfully, and passed out of the garden. + +John allowed his eyes to follow his brother till his shape could not +be seen, and then he turned and again walked up and down. + + + +XVIII. THE NIGHT AFTER THE ARRIVAL + +John continued his sad and heavy pace till walking seemed too old +and worn-out a way of showing sorrow so new, and he leant himself +against the fork of an apple-tree like a log. There the +trumpet-major remained for a considerable time, his face turned +towards the house, whose ancient, many-chimneyed outline rose +against the darkened sky, and just shut out from his view the camp +above. But faint noises coming thence from horses restless at the +pickets, and from visitors taking their leave, recalled its +existence, and reminded him that, in consequence of Matilda's +arrival, he had obtained leave for the night--a fact which, owing to +the startling emotions that followed his entry, he had not yet +mentioned to his friends. + +While abstractedly considering how he could best use that privilege +under the new circumstances which had arisen, he heard Farmer +Derriman drive up to the front door and hold a conversation with his +father. The old man had at last apparently brought the tin box of +private papers that he wished the miller to take charge of during +Derriman's absence; and it being a calm night, John could hear, +though he little heeded, Uncle Benjy's reiterated supplications to +Loveday to keep it safe from fire and thieves. Then Uncle Benjy +left, and John's father went upstairs to deposit the box in a place +of security, the whole proceeding reaching John's preoccupied +comprehension merely as voices during sleep. + +The next thing was the appearance of a light in the bedroom which +had been assigned to Matilda Johnson. This effectually aroused the +trumpet-major, and with a stealthiness unusual in him he went +indoors. No light was in the lower rooms, his father, Mrs. Garland, +and Anne having gone out on the bridge to look at the new moon. +John went upstairs on tip-toe, and along the uneven passage till he +came to her door. It was standing ajar, a band of candlelight +shining across the passage and up the opposite wall. As soon as he +entered the radiance he saw her. She was standing before the +looking-glass, apparently lost in thought, her fingers being clasped +behind her head in abstraction, and the light falling full upon her +face. + +'I must speak to you,' said the trumpet-major. + +She started, turned and grew paler than before; and then, as if +moved by a sudden impulse, she swung the door wide open, and, coming +out, said quite collectedly and with apparent pleasantness, 'O yes; +you are my Bob's brother! I didn't, for a moment, recognize you.' + +'But you do now?' + +'As Bob's brother.' + +'You have not seen me before?' + +'I have not,' she answered, with a face as impassible as +Talleyrand's. + +'Good God!' + +'I have not!' she repeated. + +'Nor any of the --th Dragoons? Captain Jolly, for instance?' + +'No.' + +'You mistake. I'll remind you of particulars,' he said drily. And +he did remind her at some length. + +'Never!' she said desperately. + +But she had miscalculated her staying powers, and her adversary's +character. Five minutes after that she was in tears, and the +conversation had resolved itself into words, which, on the soldier's +part, were of the nature of commands, tempered by pity, and were a +mere series of entreaties on hers. + +The whole scene did not last ten minutes. When it was over, the +trumpet-major walked from the doorway where they had been standing, +and brushed moisture from his eyes. Reaching a dark lumber-room, he +stood still there to calm himself, and then descended by a Flemish- +ladder to the bakehouse, instead of by the front stairs. He found +that the others, including Bob, had gathered in the parlour during +his absence and lighted the candles. + +Miss Johnson, having sent down some time before John re-entered the +house to say that she would prefer to keep her room that evening, +was not expected to join them, and on this account Bob showed less +than his customary liveliness. The miller wishing to keep up his +son's spirits, expressed his regret that, it being Sunday night, +they could have no songs to make the evening cheerful; when Mrs. +Garland proposed that they should sing psalms which, by choosing +lively tunes and not thinking of the words, would be almost as good +as ballads. + +This they did, the trumpet-major appearing to join in with the rest; +but as a matter of fact no sound came from his moving lips. His +mind was in such a state that he derived no pleasure even from Anne +Garland's presence, though he held a corner of the same book with +her, and was treated in a winsome way which it was not her usual +practice to indulge in. She saw that his mind was clouded, and, far +from guessing the reason why, was doing her best to clear it. + +At length the Garlands found that it was the hour for them to leave, +and John Loveday at the same time wished his father and Bob +good-night, and went as far as Mrs. Garland's door with her. + +He had said not a word to show that he was free to remain out of +camp, for the reason that there was painful work to be done, which +it would be best to do in secret and alone. He lingered near the +house till its reflected window-lights ceased to glimmer upon the +mill-pond, and all within the dwelling was dark and still. Then he +entered the garden and waited there till the back door opened, and a +woman's figure timorously came forward. John Loveday at once went +up to her, and they began to talk in low yet dissentient tones. + +They had conversed about ten minutes, and were parting as if they +had come to some painful arrangement, Miss Johnson sobbing bitterly, +when a head stealthily arose above the dense hedgerow, and in a +moment a shout burst from its owner. + +'Thieves! thieves!--my tin box!--thieves! thieves!' + +Matilda vanished into the house, and John Loveday hastened to the +hedge. 'For heaven's sake, hold your tongue, Mr. Derriman!' he +exclaimed. + +'My tin box!' said Uncle Benjy. 'O, only the trumpet-major!' + +'Your box is safe enough, I assure you. It was only'--here the +trumpet-major gave vent to an artificial laugh--'only a sly bit of +courting, you know.' + +'Ha, ha, I see!' said the relieved old squireen. 'Courting Miss +Anne! Then you've ousted my nephew, trumpet-major! Well, so much +the better. As for myself, the truth on't is that I haven't been +able to go to bed easy, for thinking that possibly your father might +not take care of what I put under his charge; and at last I thought +I would just step over and see if all was safe here before I turned +in. And when I saw your two shapes my poor nerves magnified ye to +housebreakers, and Boneys, and I don't know what all.' + +'You have alarmed the house,' said the trumpet-major, hearing the +clicking of flint and steel in his father's bedroom, followed in a +moment by the rise of a light in the window of the same apartment. +'You have got me into difficulty,' he added gloomily, as his father +opened the casement. + +'I am sorry for that,' said Uncle Benjy. 'But step back; I'll put +it all right again.' + +'What, for heaven's sake, is the matter?' said the miller, his +tasselled nightcap appearing in the opening. + +'Nothing, nothing!' said the farmer. 'I was uneasy about my few +bonds and documents, and I walked this way, miller, before going to +bed, as I start from home to-morrow morning. When I came down by +your garden-hedge, I thought I saw thieves, but it turned out to be- +-to be--' + +Here a lump of earth from the trumpet-major's hand struck Uncle +Benjy in the back as a reminder. + +'To be--the bough of a cherry-tree a-waving in the wind. +Good-night.' + +'No thieves are like to try my house,' said Miller Loveday. 'Now +don't you come alarming us like this again, farmer, or you shall +keep your box yourself, begging your pardon for saying so. +Good-night t' ye!' + +'Miller, will ye just look, since I am here--just look and see if +the box is all right? there's a good man! I am old, you know, and +my poor remains are not what my original self was. Look and see if +it is where you put it, there's a good, kind man.' + +'Very well,' said the miller good-humouredly. + +'Neighbour Loveday! on second thoughts I will take my box home +again, after all, if you don't mind. You won't deem it ill of me? +I have no suspicion, of course; but now I think on't there's rivalry +between my nephew and your son; and if Festus should take it into +his head to set your house on fire in his enmity, 'twould be bad for +my deeds and documents. No offence, miller, but I'll take the box, +if you don't mind.' + +'Faith! I don't mind,' said Loveday. 'But your nephew had better +think twice before he lets his enmity take that colour.' Receding +from the window, he took the candle to a back part of the room and +soon reappeared with the tin box. + +'I won't trouble ye to dress,' said Derriman considerately; 'let en +down by anything you have at hand.' + +The box was lowered by a cord, and the old man clasped it in his +arms. 'Thank ye!' he said with heartfelt gratitude. 'Good-night!' + +The miller replied and closed the window, and the light went out. + +'There, now I hope you are satisfied, sir?' said the trumpet-major. + +'Quite, quite!' said Derriman; and, leaning on his walking-stick, he +pursued his lonely way. + +That night Anne lay awake in her bed, musing on the traits of the +new friend who had come to her neighbour's house. She would not be +critical, it was ungenerous and wrong; but she could not help +thinking of what interested her. And were there, she silently +asked, in Miss Johnson's mind and person such rare qualities as +placed that lady altogether beyond comparison with herself? O yes, +there must be; for had not Captain Bob singled out Matilda from +among all other women, herself included? Of course, with his +world-wide experience, he knew best. + +When the moon had set, and only the summer stars threw their light +into the great damp garden, she fancied that she heard voices in +that direction. Perhaps they were the voices of Bob and Matilda +taking a lover's walk before retiring. If so, how sleepy they would +be next day, and how absurd it was of Matilda to pretend she was +tired! Ruminating in this way, and saying to herself that she hoped +they would be happy, Anne fell asleep. + + + +XIX. MISS JOHNSON'S BEHAVIOUR CAUSES NO LITTLE SURPRISE + +Partly from the excitement of having his Matilda under the paternal +roof, Bob rose next morning as early as his father and the grinder, +and, when the big wheel began to patter and the little ones to +mumble in response, went to sun himself outside the mill-front, +among the fowls of brown and speckled kinds which haunted that spot, +and the ducks that came up from the mill-tail. + +Standing on the worn-out mill-stone inlaid in the gravel, he talked +with his father on various improvements of the premises, and on the +proposed arrangements for his permanent residence there, with an +enjoyment that was half based upon this prospect of the future, and +half on the penetrating warmth of the sun to his back and shoulders. +Then the different troops of horses began their morning scramble +down to the mill-pond, and, after making it very muddy round the +edge, ascended the slope again. The bustle of the camp grew more +and more audible, and presently David came to say that breakfast was +ready. + +'Is Miss Johnson downstairs?' said the miller; and Bob listened for +the answer, looking at a blue sentinel aloft on the down. + +'Not yet, maister,' said the excellent David. + +'We'll wait till she's down,' said Loveday. 'When she is, let us +know.' + +David went indoors again, and Loveday and Bob continued their +morning survey by ascending into the mysterious quivering recesses +of the mill, and holding a discussion over a second pair of +burr-stones, which had to be re-dressed before they could be used +again. This and similar things occupied nearly twenty minutes, and, +looking from the window, the elder of the two was reminded of the +time of day by seeing Mrs. Garland's table-cloth fluttering from her +back door over the heads of a flock of pigeons that had alighted for +the crumbs. + +'I suppose David can't find us,' he said, with a sense of hunger +that was not altogether strange to Bob. He put out his head and +shouted. + +'The lady is not down yet,' said his man in reply. + +'No hurry, no hurry,' said the miller, with cheerful emptiness. +'Bob, to pass the time we'll look into the garden.' + +'She'll get up sooner than this, you know, when she's signed +articles and got a berth here,' Bob observed apologetically. + +'Yes, yes,' said Loveday; and they descended into the garden. + +Here they turned over sundry flat stones and killed the slugs +sheltered beneath them from the coming heat of the day, talking of +slugs in all their branches--of the brown and the black, of the +tough and the tender, of the reason why there were so many in the +garden that year, of the coming time when the grass-walks harbouring +them were to be taken up and gravel laid, and of the relatively +exterminatory merits of a pair of scissors and the heel of the shoe. +At last the miller said, 'Well, really, Bob, I'm hungry; we must +begin without her.' + +They were about to go in, when David appeared with haste in his +motions, his eyes wider vertically than crosswise, and his cheeks +nearly all gone. + +'Maister, I've been to call her; and as 'a didn't speak I rapped, +and as 'a didn't answer I kicked, and not being latched the door +opened, and--she's gone!' + +Bob went off like a swallow towards the house, and the miller +followed like the rather heavy man that he was. That Miss Matilda +was not in her room, or a scrap of anything belonging to her, was +soon apparent. They searched every place in which she could +possibly hide or squeeze herself, every place in which she could +not, but found nothing at all. + +Captain Bob was quite wild with astonishment and grief. When he was +quite sure that she was nowhere in his father's house, he ran into +Mrs. Garland's, and telling them the story so hastily that they +hardly understood the particulars, he went on towards Comfort's +house, intending to raise the alarm there, and also at Mitchell's, +Beach's, Cripplestraw's, the parson's, the clerk's, the camp of +dragoons, of hussars, and so on through the whole county. But he +paused, and thought it would be hardly expedient to publish his +discomfiture in such a way. If Matilda had left the house for any +freakish reason he would not care to look for her, and if her deed +had a tragic intent she would keep aloof from camp and village. + +In his trouble he thought of Anne. She was a nice girl and could be +trusted. To her he went, and found her in a state of excitement and +anxiety which equalled his own. + +''Tis so lonely to cruise for her all by myself!' said Bob +disconsolately, his forehead all in wrinkles, 'and I've thought you +would come with me and cheer the way?' + +'Where shall we search?' said Anne. + +'O, in the holes of rivers, you know, and down wells, and in +quarries, and over cliffs, and like that. Your eyes might catch the +loom of any bit of a shawl or bonnet that I should overlook, and it +would do me a real service. Please do come!' + +So Anne took pity upon him, and put on her hat and went, the miller +and David having gone off in another direction. They examined the +ditches of fields, Bob going round by one fence and Anne by the +other, till they met at the opposite side. Then they peeped under +culverts, into outhouses, and down old wells and quarries, till the +theory of a tragical end had nearly spent its force in Bob's mind, +and he began to think that Matilda had simply run away. However, +they still walked on, though by this time the sun was hot and Anne +would gladly have sat down. + +'Now, didn't you think highly of her, Miss Garland?' he inquired, as +the search began to languish. + +'O yes,' said Anne, 'very highly.' + +'She was really beautiful; no nonsense about her looks, was there?' + +'None. Her beauty was thoroughly ripe--not too young. We should +all have got to love her. What can have possessed her to go away?' + +'I don't know, and, upon my life, I shall soon be drove to say I +don't care!' replied the mate despairingly. 'Let me pilot ye down +over those stones,' he added, as Anne began to descend a rugged +quarry. He stepped forward, leapt down, and turned to her. + +She gave him her hand and sprang down. Before he relinquished his +hold, Captain Bob raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. + +'O, Captain Loveday!' cried Anne, snatching away her hand in genuine +dismay, while a tear rose unexpectedly to each eye. 'I never heard +of such a thing! I won't go an inch further with you, sir; it is +too barefaced!' And she turned and ran off. + +'Upon my life I didn't mean it!' said the repentant captain, +hastening after. 'I do love her best--indeed I do--and I don't love +you at all! I am not so fickle as that! I merely just for the +moment admired you as a sweet little craft, and that's how I came to +do it. You know, Miss Garland,' he continued earnestly, and still +running after, ''tis like this: when you come ashore after having +been shut up in a ship for eighteen months, women-folks seem so new +and nice that you can't help liking them, one and all in a body; and +so your heart is apt to get scattered and to yaw a bit; but of +course I think of poor Matilda most, and shall always stick to her.' +He heaved a sigh of tremendous magnitude, to show beyond the +possibility of doubt that his heart was still in the place that +honour required. + +'I am glad to hear that--of course I am very glad!' said she, with +quick petulance, keeping her face turned from him. 'And I hope we +shall find her, and that the wedding will not be put off, and that +you'll both be happy. But I won't look for her any more! No; I +don't care to look for her--and my head aches. I am going home!' + +'And so am I,' said Robert promptly. + +'No, no; go on looking for her, of course--all the afternoon, and +all night. I am sure you will, if you love her.' + +'O yes; I mean to. Still, I ought to convoy you home first?' + +'No, you ought not; and I shall not accept your company. +Good-morning, sir!' And she went off over one of the stone stiles +with which the spot abounded, leaving the friendly sailor standing +in the field. + +He sighed again, and, observing the camp not far off, thought he +would go to his brother John and ask him his opinion on the +sorrowful case. On reaching the tents he found that John was not at +liberty just at that time, being engaged in practising the +trumpeters; and leaving word that he wished the trumpet-major to +come down to the mill as soon as possible, Bob went back again. + +''Tis no good looking for her,' he said gloomily. 'She liked me +well enough, but when she came here and saw the house, and the +place, and the old horse, and the plain furniture, she was +disappointed to find us all so homely, and felt she didn't care to +marry into such a family!' + +His father and David had returned with no news. + +'Yes, 'tis as I've been thinking, father,' Bob said. 'We weren't +good enough for her, and she went away in scorn!' + +'Well, that can't be helped,' said the miller. 'What we be, we be, +and have been for generations. To my mind she seemed glad enough to +get hold of us!' + +'Yes, yes--for the moment--because of the flowers, and birds, and +what's pretty in the place,' said Bob tragically. 'But you don't +know, father--how should you know, who have hardly been out of +Overcombe in your life?--you don't know what delicate feelings are +in a real refined woman's mind. Any little vulgar action unreaves +their nerves like a marline-spike. Now I wonder if you did anything +to disgust her?' + +'Faith! not that I know of,' said Loveday, reflecting. 'I didn't +say a single thing that I should naturally have said, on purpose to +give no offence.' + +'You was always very homely, you know, father.' + +'Yes; so I was,' said the miller meekly. + +'I wonder what it could have been,' Bob continued, wandering about +restlessly. 'You didn't go drinking out of the big mug with your +mouth full, or wipe your lips with your sleeve?' + +'That I'll swear I didn't!' said the miller firmly. 'Thinks I, +there's no knowing what I may do to shock her, so I'll take my solid +victuals in the bakehouse, and only a crumb and a drop in her +company for manners.' + +'You could do no more than that, certainly,' said Bob gently. + +'If my manners be good enough for well-brought-up people like the +Garlands, they be good enough for her,' continued the miller, with a +sense of injustice. + +'That's true. Then it must have been David. David, come here! How +did you behave before that lady? Now, mind you speak the truth!' + +'Yes, Mr. Captain Robert,' said David earnestly. 'I assure ye she +was served like a royal queen. The best silver spoons wez put down, +and yer poor grandfer's silver tanket, as you seed, and the feather +cushion for her to sit on--' + +'Now I've got it!' said Bob decisively, bringing down his hand upon +the window-sill. 'Her bed was hard!--and there's nothing shocks a +true lady like that. The bed in that room always was as hard as the +Rock of Gibraltar!' + +'No, Captain Bob! The beds were changed--wasn't they maister? We +put the goose bed in her room, and the flock one, that used to be +there, in yours.' + +'Yes, we did,' corroborated the miller. 'David and I changed 'em +with our own hands, because they were too heavy for the women to +move.' + +'Sure I didn't know I had the flock bed,' murmured Bob. 'I slept +on, little thinking what I was going to wake to. Well, well, she's +gone; and search as I will I shall never find another like her! She +was too good for me. She must have carried her box with her own +hands, poor girl. As far as that goes, I could overtake her even +now, I dare say; but I won't entreat her against her will--not I.' + +Miller Loveday and David, feeling themselves to be rather a +desecration in the presence of Bob's sacred emotions, managed to +edge off by degrees, the former burying himself in the most floury +recesses of the mill, his invariable resource when perturbed, the +rumbling having a soothing effect upon the nerves of those properly +trained to its music. + +Bob was so impatient that, after going up to her room to assure +himself once more that she had not undressed, but had only lain down +on the outside of the bed, he went out of the house to meet John, +and waited on the sunny slope of the down till his brother appeared. +John looked so brave and shapely and warlike that, even in Bob's +present distress, he could not but feel an honest and affectionate +pride at owning such a relative. Yet he fancied that John did not +come along with the same swinging step he had shown yesterday; and +when the trumpet-major got nearer he looked anxiously at the mate +and waited for him to speak first. + +'You know our great trouble, John?' said Robert, gazing stoically +into his brother's eyes. + +'Come and sit down, and tell me all about it,' answered the +trumpet-major, showing no surprise. + +They went towards a slight ravine, where it was easier to sit down +than on the flat ground, and here John reclined among the +grasshoppers, pointing to his brother to do the same. + +'But do you know what it is?' said Robert. 'Has anybody told ye?' + +'I do know,' said John. 'She's gone; and I am thankful!' + +'What!' said Bob, rising to his knees in amazement. + +'I'm at the bottom of it,' said the trumpet-major slowly. + +'You, John?' + +'Yes; and if you will listen I'll tell you all. Do you remember +what happened when I came into the room last night? Why, she turned +colour and nearly fainted away. That was because she knew me.' + +Bob stared at his brother with a face of pain and distrust. + +'For once, Bob, I must say something that will hurt thee a good +deal,' continued John. 'She was not a woman who could possibly be +your wife--and so she's gone.' + +'You sent her off?' + +'Well, I did.' + +'John!--Tell me right through--tell me!' + +'Perhaps I had better,' said the trumpet-major, his blue eyes +resting on the far distant sea, that seemed to rise like a wall as +high as the hill they sat upon. + +And then he told a tale of Miss Johnson and the --th Dragoons which +wrung his heart as much in the telling as it did Bob's to hear, and +which showed that John had been temporarily cruel to be ultimately +kind. Even Bob, excited as he was, could discern from John's manner +of speaking what a terrible undertaking that night's business had +been for him. To justify the course he had adopted the dictates of +duty must have been imperative; but the trumpet-major, with a +becoming reticence which his brother at the time was naturally +unable to appreciate, scarcely dwelt distinctly enough upon the +compelling cause of his conduct. It would, indeed, have been hard +for any man, much less so modest a one as John, to do himself +justice in that remarkable relation, when the listener was the +lady's lover; and it is no wonder that Robert rose to his feet and +put a greater distance between himself and John. + +'And what time was it?' he asked in a hard, suppressed voice. + +'It was just before one o'clock.' + +'How could you help her to go away?' + +'I had a pass. I carried her box to the coach-office. She was to +follow at dawn.' + +'But she had no money.' + +'Yes, she had; I took particular care of that.' John did not add, +as he might have done, that he had given her, in his pity, all the +money he possessed, and at present had only eighteen-pence in the +world. 'Well, it is over, Bob; so sit ye down, and talk with me of +old times,' he added. + +'Ah, Jack, it is well enough for you to speak like that,' said the +disquieted sailor; 'but I can't help feeling that it is a cruel +thing you have done. After all, she would have been snug enough for +me. Would I had never found out this about her! John, why did you +interfere? You had no right to overhaul my affairs like this. Why +didn't you tell me fairly all you knew, and let me do as I chose? +You have turned her out of the house, and it's a shame! If she had +only come to me! Why didn't she?' + +'Because she knew it was best to do otherwise.' + +'Well, I shall go after her,' said Bob firmly. + +'You can do as you like,' said John; 'but I would advise you +strongly to leave matters where they are.' + +'I won't leave matters where they are,' said Bob impetuously. 'You +have made me miserable, and all for nothing. I tell you she was +good enough for me; and as long as I knew nothing about what you say +of her history, what difference would it have made to me? Never was +there a young woman who was better company; and she loved a merry +song as I do myself. Yes, I'll follow her.' + +'O, Bob,' said John; 'I hardly expected this!' + +'That's because you didn't know your man. Can I ask you to do me +one kindness? I don't suppose I can. Can I ask you not to say a +word against her to any of them at home?' + +'Certainly. The very reason why I got her to go off silently, as +she has done, was because nothing should be said against her here, +and no scandal should be heard of.' + +'That may be; but I'm off after her. Marry that girl I will.' + +'You'll be sorry.' + +'That we shall see,' replied Robert with determination; and he went +away rapidly towards the mill. The trumpet-major had no heart to +follow--no good could possibly come of further opposition; and there +on the down he remained like a graven image till Bob had vanished +from his sight into the mill. + +Bob entered his father's only to leave word that he was going on a +renewed search for Matilda, and to pack up a few necessaries for his +journey. Ten minutes later he came out again with a bundle in his +hand, and John saw him go diagonally across the lower fields towards +the high-road. + +'And this is all the good I have done!' said John, musingly +readjusting his stock where it cut his neck, and descending towards +the mill. + + + +XX. HOW THEY LESSENED THE EFFECT OF THE CALAMITY + +Meanwhile Anne Garland had gone home, and, being weary with her +ramble in search of Matilda, sat silent in a corner of the room. +Her mother was passing the time in giving utterance to every +conceivable surmise on the cause of Miss Johnson's disappearance +that the human mind could frame, to which Anne returned monosyllabic +answers, the result, not of indifference, but of intense +preoccupation. Presently Loveday, the father, came to the door; her +mother vanished with him, and they remained closeted together a long +time. Anne went into the garden and seated herself beneath the +branching tree whose boughs had sheltered her during so many hours +of her residence here. Her attention was fixed more upon the +miller's wing of the irregular building before her than upon that +occupied by her mother, for she could not help expecting every +moment to see some one run out with a wild face and announce some +awful clearing up of the mystery. + +Every sound set her on the alert, and hearing the tread of a horse +in the lane she looked round eagerly. Gazing at her over the hedge +was Festus Derriman, mounted on such an incredibly tall animal that +he could see to her very feet over the thick and broad thorn fence. +She no sooner recognized him than she withdrew her glance; but as +his eyes were fixed steadily upon her this was a futile manoeuvre. + +'I saw you look round!' he exclaimed crossly. 'What have I done to +make you behave like that? Come, Miss Garland, be fair. 'Tis no +use to turn your back upon me.' As she did not turn he went on-- +'Well, now, this is enough to provoke a saint. Now I tell you what, +Miss Garland; here I'll stay till you do turn round, if 'tis all the +afternoon. You know my temper--what I say I mean.' He seated +himself firmly in the saddle, plucked some leaves from the hedge, +and began humming a song, to show how absolutely indifferent he was +to the flight of time. + +'What have you come for, that you are so anxious to see me?' +inquired Anne, when at last he had wearied her patience, rising and +facing him with the added independence which came from a sense of +the hedge between them. + +'There, I knew you would turn round!' he said, his hot angry face +invaded by a smile in which his teeth showed like white hemmed in by +red at chess. + +'What do you want, Mr. Derriman?' said she. + +'"What do you want, Mr. Derriman?"--now listen to that! Is that my +encouragement?' + +Anne bowed superciliously, and moved away. + +'I have just heard news that explains all that,' said the giant, +eyeing her movements with somnolent irascibility. 'My uncle has +been letting things out. He was here late last night, and he saw +you.' + +'Indeed he didn't,' said Anne. + +'O, now! He saw Trumpet-major Loveday courting somebody like you in +that garden walk; and when he came you ran indoors.' + +'It is not true, and I wish to hear no more.' + +'Upon my life, he said so! How can you do it, Miss Garland, when I, +who have enough money to buy up all the Lovedays, would gladly come +to terms with ye? What a simpleton you must be, to pass me over for +him! There, now you are angry because I said simpleton!--I didn't +mean simpleton, I meant misguided--misguided rosebud! That's it-- +run off,' he continued in a raised voice, as Anne made towards the +garden door. 'But I'll have you yet. Much reason you have to be +too proud to stay with me. But it won't last long; I shall marry +you, madam, if I choose, as you'll see.' + +When he was quite gone, and Anne had calmed down from the not +altogether unrelished fear and excitement that he always caused her, +she returned to her seat under the tree, and began to wonder what +Festus Derriman's story meant, which, from the earnestness of his +tone, did not seem like a pure invention. It suddenly flashed upon +her mind that she herself had heard voices in the garden, and that +the persons seen by Farmer Derriman, of whose visit and reclamation +of his box the miller had told her, might have been Matilda and John +Loveday. She further recalled the strange agitation of Miss Johnson +on the preceding evening, and that it occurred just at the entry of +the dragoon, till by degrees suspicion amounted to conviction that +he knew more than any one else supposed of that lady's +disappearance. + +It was just at this time that the trumpet-major descended to the +mill after his talk with his brother on the down. As fate would +have it, instead of entering the house he turned aside to the garden +and walked down that pleasant enclosure, to learn if he were likely +to find in the other half of it the woman he loved so well. + +Yes, there she was, sitting on the seat of logs that he had repaired +for her, under the apple-tree; but she was not facing in his +direction. He walked with a noisier tread, he coughed, he shook a +bough, he did everything, in short, but the one thing that Festus +did in the same circumstances--call out to her. He would not have +ventured on that for the world. Any of his signs would have been +sufficient to attract her a day or two earlier; now she would not +turn. At last, in his fond anxiety, he did what he had never done +before without an invitation, and crossed over into Mrs. Garland's +half of the garden, till he stood before her. + +When she could not escape him she arose, and, saying 'Good +afternoon, trumpet-major,' in a glacial manner unusual with her, +walked away to another part of the garden. + +Loveday, quite at a loss, had not the strength of mind to persevere +further. He had a vague apprehension that some imperfect knowledge +of the previous night's unhappy business had reached her; and, +unable to remedy the evil without telling more than he dared, he +went into the mill, where his father still was, looking doleful +enough, what with his concern at events and the extra quantity of +flour upon his face through sticking so closely to business that +day. + +'Well, John; Bob has told you all, of course? A queer, strange, +perplexing thing, isn't it? I can't make it out at all. There must +be something wrong in the woman, or it couldn't have happened. I +haven't been so upset for years.' + +'Nor have I. I wouldn't it should have happened for all I own in +the world,' said the dragoon. 'Have you spoke to Anne Garland +to-day--or has anybody been talking to her?' + +'Festus Derriman rode by half-an-hour ago, and talked to her over +the hedge.' + +John guessed the rest, and, after standing on the threshold in +silence awhile, walked away towards the camp. + +All this time his brother Robert had been hastening along in pursuit +of the woman who had withdrawn from the scene to avoid the exposure +and complete overthrow which would have resulted had she remained. +As the distance lengthened between himself and the mill, Bob was +conscious of some cooling down of the excitement that had prompted +him to set out; but he did not pause in his walk till he had reached +the head of the river which fed the mill-stream. Here, for some +indefinite reason, he allowed his eyes to be attracted by the +bubbling spring whose waters never failed or lessened, and he +stopped as if to look longer at the scene; it was really because his +mind was so absorbed by John's story. + +The sun was warm, the spot was a pleasant one, and he deposited his +bundle and sat down. By degrees, as he reflected, first on John's +view and then on his own, his convictions became unsettled; till at +length he was so balanced between the impulse to go on and the +impulse to go back, that a puff of wind either way would have been +well-nigh sufficient to decide for him. When he allowed John's +story to repeat itself in his ears, the reasonableness and good +sense of his advice seemed beyond question. When, on the other +hand, he thought of his poor Matilda's eyes, and her, to him, +pleasant ways, their charming arrangements to marry, and her +probable willingness still, he could hardly bring himself to do +otherwise than follow on the road at the top of his speed. + +This strife of thought was so well maintained that sitting and +standing, he remained on the borders of the spring till the shadows +had stretched out eastwards, and the chance of overtaking Matilda +had grown considerably less. Still he did not positively go towards +home. At last he took a guinea from his pocket, and resolved to put +the question to the hazard. 'Heads I go; tails I don't.' The piece +of gold spun in the air and came down heads. + +'No, I won't go, after all,' he said. 'I won't be steered by +accidents any more.' + +He picked up his bundle and switch, and retraced his steps towards +Overcombe Mill, knocking down the brambles and nettles as he went +with gloomy and indifferent blows. When he got within sight of the +house he beheld David in the road. + +'All right--all right again, captain!', shouted that retainer. 'A +wedding after all! Hurrah!' + +'Ah--she's back again?' cried Bob, seizing David, ecstatically, and +dancing round with him. + +'No--but it's all the same! it is of no consequence at all, and no +harm will be done! Maister and Mrs. Garland have made up a match, +and mean to marry at once, that the wedding victuals may not be +wasted! They felt 'twould be a thousand pities to let such good +things get blue-vinnied for want of a ceremony to use 'em upon, and +at last they have thought of this.' + +'Victuals--I don't care for the victuals!' bitterly cried Bob, in a +tone of far higher thought. 'How you disappoint me!' and he went +slowly towards the house. + +His father appeared in the opening of the mill-door, looking more +cheerful than when they had parted. 'What, Robert, you've been +after her?' he said. 'Faith, then, I wouldn't have followed her if +I had been as sure as you were that she went away in scorn of us. +Since you told me that, I have not looked for her at all.' + +'I was wrong, father,' Bob replied gravely, throwing down his bundle +and stick. 'Matilda, I find, has not gone away in scorn of us; she +has gone away for other reasons. I followed her some way; but I +have come back again. She may go.' + +'Why is she gone?' said the astonished miller. + +Bob had intended, for Matilda's sake, to give no reason to a living +soul for her departure. But he could not treat his father thus +reservedly; and he told. + +'She has made great fools of us,' said the miller deliberately; 'and +she might have made us greater ones. Bob, I thought th' hadst more +sense.' + +'Well, don't say anything against her, father,' implored Bob. +''Twas a sorry haul, and there's an end on't. Let her down quietly, +and keep the secret. You promise that?' + +'I do.' Loveday the elder remained thinking awhile, and then went +on--'Well, what I was going to say is this: I've hit upon a plan to +get out of the awkward corner she has put us in. What you'll think +of it I can't say.' + +'David has just given me the heads.' + +'And do it hurt your feelings, my son, at such a time?' + +'No--I'll bring myself to bear it, anyhow! Why should I object to +other people's happiness because I have lost my own?' said Bob, with +saintly self-sacrifice in his air. + +'Well said!' answered the miller heartily. 'But you may be sure +that there will be no unseemly rejoicing, to disturb ye in your +present frame of mind. All the morning I felt more ashamed than I +cared to own at the thought of how the neighbours, great and small, +would laugh at what they would call your folly, when they knew what +had happened; so I resolved to take this step to stave it off, if so +be 'twas possible. And when I saw Mrs. Garland I knew I had done +right. She pitied me so much for having had the house cleaned in +vain, and laid in provisions to waste, that it put her into the +humour to agree. We mean to do it right off at once, afore the pies +and cakes get mouldy and the blackpot stale. 'Twas a good thought +of mine and hers, and I am glad 'tis settled,' he concluded +cheerfully. + +'Poor Matilda!' murmured Bob. + +'There--I was afraid 'twould hurt thy feelings,' said the miller, +with self-reproach: 'making preparations for thy wedding, and using +them for my own!' + +'No,' said Bob heroically; 'it shall not. It will be a great +comfort in my sorrow to feel that the splendid grub, and the ale, +and your stunning new suit of clothes, and the great table-cloths +you've bought, will be just as useful now as if I had married +myself. Poor Matilda! But you won't expect me to join in--you +hardly can. I can sheer off that day very easily, you know.' + +'Nonsense, Bob!' said the miller reproachfully. + +'I couldn't stand it--I should break down.' + +'Deuce take me if I would have asked her, then, if I had known 'twas +going to drive thee out of the house! Now, come, Bob, I'll find a +way of arranging it and sobering it down, so that it shall be as +melancholy as you can require--in short, just like a funeral, if +thou'lt promise to stay?' + +'Very well,' said the afflicted one. 'On that condition I'll stay.' + + + +XXI. 'UPON THE HILL HE TURNED' + +Having entered into this solemn compact with his son, the elder +Loveday's next action was to go to Mrs. Garland, and ask her how the +toning down of the wedding had best be done. 'It is plain enough +that to make merry just now would be slighting Bob's feelings, as if +we didn't care who was not married, so long as we were,' he said. +'But then, what's to be done about the victuals?' + +'Give a dinner to the poor folk,' she suggested. 'We can get +everything used up that way.' + +'That's true' said the miller. 'There's enough of 'em in these +times to carry off any extras whatsoever.' + +'And it will save Bob's feelings wonderfully. And they won't know +that the dinner was got for another sort of wedding and another sort +of guests; so you'll have their good-will for nothing.' + +The miller smiled at the subtlety of the view. 'That can hardly be +called fair,' he said. 'Still, I did mean some of it for them, for +the friends we meant to ask would not have cleared all.' + +Upon the whole the idea pleased him well, particularly when he +noticed the forlorn look of his sailor son as he walked about the +place, and pictured the inevitably jarring effect of fiddles and +tambourines upon Bob's shattered nerves at such a crisis, even if +the notes of the former were dulled by the application of a mute, +and Bob shut up in a distant bedroom--a plan which had at first +occurred to him. He therefore told Bob that the surcharged larder +was to be emptied by the charitable process above alluded to, and +hoped he would not mind making himself useful in such a good and +gloomy work. Bob readily fell in with the scheme, and it was at +once put in hand and the tables spread. + +The alacrity with which the substituted wedding was carried out, +seemed to show that the worthy pair of neighbours would have joined +themselves into one long ago, had there previously occurred any +domestic incident dictating such a step as an apposite expedient, +apart from their personal wish to marry. + +The appointed morning came, and the service quietly took place at +the cheerful hour of ten, in the face of a triangular congregation, +of which the base was the front pew, and the apex the west door. +Mrs. Garland dressed herself in the muslin shawl like Queen +Charlotte's, that Bob had brought home, and her best plum-coloured +gown, beneath which peeped out her shoes with red rosettes. Anne +was present, but she considerately toned herself down, so as not to +too seriously damage her mother's appearance. At moments during the +ceremony she had a distressing sense that she ought not to be born, +and was glad to get home again. + +The interest excited in the village, though real, was hardly enough +to bring a serious blush to the face of coyness. Neighbours' minds +had become so saturated by the abundance of showy military and regal +incident lately vouchsafed to them, that the wedding of middle-aged +civilians was of small account, excepting in so far that it solved +the question whether or not Mrs. Garland would consider herself too +genteel to mate with a grinder of corn. + +In the evening, Loveday's heart was made glad by seeing the baked +and boiled in rapid process of consumption by the kitchenful of +people assembled for that purpose. Three-quarters of an hour were +sufficient to banish for ever his fears as to spoilt food. The +provisions being the cause of the assembly, and not its consequence, +it had been determined to get all that would not keep consumed on +that day, even if highways and hedges had to be searched for +operators. And, in addition to the poor and needy, every cottager's +daughter known to the miller was invited, and told to bring her +lover from camp--an expedient which, for letting daylight into the +inside of full platters, was among the most happy ever known. + +While Mr. and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and Bob were standing in the +parlour, discussing the progress of the entertainment in the next +room, John, who had not been down all day, entered the house and +looked in upon them through the open door. + +'How's this, John? Why didn't you come before?' + +'Had to see the captain, and--other duties,' said the trumpet-major, +in a tone which showed no great zeal for explanations. + +'Well, come in, however,' continued the miller, as his son remained +with his hand on the door-post, surveying them reflectively. + +'I cannot stay long,' said John, advancing. 'The Route is come, and +we are going away.' + +'Going away! Where to?' + +'To Exonbury.' + +'When?' + +'Friday morning.' + +'All of you?' + +'Yes; some to-morrow and some next day. The King goes next week.' + +'I am sorry for this,' said the miller, not expressing half his +sorrow by the simple utterance. 'I wish you could have been here +to-day, since this is the case,' he added, looking at the horizon +through the window. + +Mrs. Loveday also expressed her regret, which seemed to remind the +trumpet-major of the event of the day, and he went to her and tried +to say something befitting the occasion. Anne had not said that she +was either sorry or glad, but John Loveday fancied that she had +looked rather relieved than otherwise when she heard his news. His +conversation with Bob on the down made Bob's manner, too, remarkably +cool, notwithstanding that he had after all followed his brother's +advice, which it was as yet too soon after the event for him to +rightly value. John did not know why the sailor had come back, +never supposing that it was because he had thought better of going, +and said to him privately, 'You didn't overtake her?' + +'I didn't try to,' said Bob. + +'And you are not going to?' + +'No; I shall let her drift.' + +'I am glad indeed, Bob; you have been wise,' said John heartily. + +Bob, however, still loved Matilda too well to be other than +dissatisfied with John and the event that he had precipitated, which +the elder brother only too promptly perceived; and it made his stay +that evening of short duration. Before leaving he said with some +hesitation to his father, including Anne and her mother by his +glance, 'Do you think to come up and see us off?' + +The miller answered for them all, and said that of course they would +come. 'But you'll step down again between now and then?' he +inquired. + +'I'll try to.' He added after a pause, 'In case I should not, +remember that Revalley will sound at half past five; we shall leave +about eight. Next summer, perhaps, we shall come and camp here +again.' + +'I hope so,' said his father and Mrs. Loveday. + +There was something in John's manner which indicated to Anne that he +scarcely intended to come down again; but the others did not notice +it, and she said nothing. He departed a few minutes later, in the +dusk of the August evening, leaving Anne still in doubt as to the +meaning of his private meeting with Miss Johnson. + +John Loveday had been going to tell them that on the last night, by +an especial privilege, it would be in his power to come and stay +with them until eleven o'clock, but at the moment of leaving he +abandoned the intention. Anne's attitude had chilled him, and made +him anxious to be off. He utilized the spare hours of that last +night in another way. + +This was by coming down from the outskirts of the camp in the +evening, and seating himself near the brink of the mill-pond as soon +as it was quite dark; where he watched the lights in the different +windows till one appeared in Anne's bedroom, and she herself came +forward to shut the casement, with the candle in her hand. The +light shone out upon the broad and deep mill-head, illuminating to a +distinct individuality every moth and gnat that entered the +quivering chain of radiance stretching across the water towards him, +and every bubble or atom of froth that floated into its width. She +stood for some time looking out, little thinking what the darkness +concealed on the other side of that wide stream; till at length she +closed the casement, drew the curtains, and retreated into the room. +Presently the light went out, upon which John Loveday returned to +camp and lay down in his tent. + +The next morning was dull and windy, and the trumpets of the --th +sounded Reveille for the last time on Overcombe Down. Knowing that +the Dragoons were going away, Anne had slept heedfully, and was at +once awakened by the smart notes. She looked out of the window, to +find that the miller was already astir, his white form being visible +at the end of his garden, where he stood motionless, watching the +preparations. Anne also looked on as well as she could through the +dim grey gloom, and soon she saw the blue smoke from the cooks' +fires creeping fitfully along the ground, instead of rising in +vertical columns, as it had done during the fine weather season. +Then the men began to carry their bedding to the waggons, and others +to throw all refuse into the trenches, till the down was lively as +an ant-hill. Anne did not want to see John Loveday again, but +hearing the household astir, she began to dress at leisure, looking +out at the camp the while. + +When the soldiers had breakfasted, she saw them selling and giving +away their superfluous crockery to the natives who had clustered +round; and then they pulled down and cleared away the temporary +kitchens which they had constructed when they came. A tapping of +tent-pegs and wriggling of picket-posts followed, and soon the cones +of white canvas, now almost become a component part of the +landscape, fell to the ground. At this moment the miller came +indoors and asked at the foot of the stairs if anybody was going up +the hill with him. + +Anne felt that, in spite of the cloud hanging over John in her mind, +it would ill become the present moment not to see him off, and she +went downstairs to her mother, who was already there, though Bob was +nowhere to be seen. Each took an arm of the miller, and thus +climbed to the top of the hill. By this time the men and horses +were at the place of assembly, and, shortly after the mill-party +reached level ground, the troops slowly began to move forward. When +the trumpet-major, half buried in his uniform, arms, and +horse-furniture, drew near to the spot where the Lovedays were +waiting to see him pass, his father turned anxiously to Anne and +said, 'You will shake hands with John?' + +Anne faintly replied 'Yes,' and allowed the miller to take her +forward on his arm to the trackway, so as to be close to the flank +of the approaching column. It came up, many people on each side +grasping the hands of the troopers in bidding them farewell; and as +soon as John Loveday saw the members of his father's household, he +stretched down his hand across his right pistol for the same +performance. The miller gave his, then Mrs. Loveday gave hers, and +then the hand of the trumpet-major was extended towards Anne. But +as the horse did not absolutely stop, it was a somewhat awkward +performance for a young woman to undertake, and, more on that +account than on any other, Anne drew back, and the gallant trooper +passed by without receiving her adieu. Anne's heart reproached her +for a moment; and then she thought that, after all, he was not going +off to immediate battle, and that she would in all probability see +him again at no distant date, when she hoped that the mystery of his +conduct would be explained. Her thoughts were interrupted by a +voice at her elbow: 'Thank heaven, he's gone! Now there's a chance +for me.' + +She turned, and Festus Derriman was standing by her. + +'There's no chance for you,' she said indignantly. + +'Why not?' + +'Because there's another left!' + +The words had slipped out quite unintentionally, and she blushed +quickly. She would have given anything to be able to recall them; +but he had heard, and said, 'Who?' + +Anne went forward to the miller to avoid replying, and Festus caught +her no more. + +'Has anybody been hanging about Overcombe Mill except Loveday's son +the soldier?' he asked of a comrade. + +'His son the sailor,' was the reply. + +'O--his son the sailor,' said Festus slowly. 'Damn his son the +sailor!' + + + +XXII. THE TWO HOUSEHOLDS UNITED + +At this particular moment the object of Festus Derriman's +fulmination was assuredly not dangerous as a rival. Bob, after +abstractedly watching the soldiers from the front of the house till +they were out of sight, had gone within doors and seated himself in +the mill-parlour, where his father found him, his elbows resting on +the table and his forehead on his hands, his eyes being fixed upon a +document that lay open before him. + +'What art perusing, Bob, with such a long face?' + +Bob sighed, and then Mrs. Loveday and Anne entered. ''Tis only a +state-paper that I fondly thought I should have a use for,' he said +gloomily. And, looking down as before, he cleared his voice, as if +moved inwardly to go on, and began to read in feeling tones from +what proved to be his nullified marriage licence:-- + +'"Timothy Titus Philemon, by permission Bishop of Bristol: To our +well-beloved Robert Loveday, of the parish of Overcombe, Bachelor; +and Matilda Johnson, of the same parish, Spinster. Greeting."' + +Here Anne sighed, but contrived to keep down her sigh to a mere +nothing. + +'Beautiful language, isn't it!' said Bob. 'I was never greeted like +that afore!' + +'Yes; I have often thought it very excellent language myself,' said +Mrs. Loveday. + +'Come to that, the old gentleman will greet thee like it again any +day for a couple of guineas,' said the miller. + +'That's not the point, father! You never could see the real meaning +of these things. . . . Well, then he goes on: "Whereas ye are, as +it is alleged, determined to enter into the holy estate of +matrimony--" But why should I read on? It all means nothing now-- +nothing, and the splendid words are all wasted upon air. It seems +as if I had been hailed by some venerable hoary prophet, and had +turned away, put the helm hard up, and wouldn't hear.' + +Nobody replied, feeling probably that sympathy could not meet the +case, and Bob went on reading the rest of it to himself, +occasionally heaving a breath like the wind in a ship's shrouds. + +'I wouldn't set my mind so much upon her, if I was thee,' said his +father at last. + +'Why not?' + +'Well, folk might call thee a fool, and say thy brains were turning +to water.' + +Bob was apparently much struck by this thought, and, instead of +continuing the discourse further, he carefully folded up the +licence, went out, and walked up and down the garden. It was +startlingly apt what his father had said; and, worse than that, what +people would call him might be true, and the liquefaction of his +brains turn out to be no fable. By degrees he became much +concerned, and the more he examined himself by this new light the +more clearly did he perceive that he was in a very bad way. + +On reflection he remembered that since Miss Johnson's departure his +appetite had decreased amazingly. He had eaten in meat no more than +fourteen or fifteen ounces a day, but one-third of a quartern +pudding on an average, in vegetables only a small heap of potatoes +and half a York cabbage, and no gravy whatever; which, considering +the usual appetite of a seaman for fresh food at the end of a long +voyage, was no small index of the depression of his mind. Then he +had waked once every night, and on one occasion twice. While +dressing each morning since the gloomy day he had not whistled more +than seven bars of a hornpipe without stopping and falling into +thought of a most painful kind; and he had told none but absolutely +true stories of foreign parts to the neighbouring villagers when +they saluted and clustered about him, as usual, for anything he +chose to pour forth--except that story of the whale whose eye was +about as large as the round pond in Derriman's ewe-lease--which was +like tempting fate to set a seal for ever upon his tongue as a +traveller. All this enervation, mental and physical, had been +produced by Matilda's departure. + +He also considered what he had lost of the rational amusements of +manhood during these unfortunate days. He might have gone to the +neighbouring fashionable resort every afternoon, stood before +Gloucester Lodge till the King and Queen came out, held his hat in +his hand, and enjoyed their Majesties' smiles at his homage all for +nothing--watched the picket-mounting, heard the different bands +strike up, observed the staff; and, above all, have seen the pretty +town girls go trip-trip-trip along the esplanade, deliberately +fixing their innocent eyes on the distant sea, the grey cliffs, and +the sky, and accidentally on the soldiers and himself. + +'I'll raze out her image,' he said. 'She shall make a fool of me no +more.' And his resolve resulted in conduct which had elements of +real greatness. + +He went back to his father, whom he found in the mill-loft. ''Tis +true, father, what you say,' he observed: 'my brains will turn to +bilge-water if I think of her much longer. By the oath of a-- +navigator, I wish I could sigh less and laugh more! She's gone--why +can't I let her go, and be happy? But how begin?' + +'Take it careless, my son,' said the miller, 'and lay yourself out +to enjoy snacks and cordials.' + +'Ah--that's a thought!' said Bob. + +'Baccy is good for't. So is sperrits. Though I don't advise thee +to drink neat.' + +'Baccy--I'd almost forgot it!' said Captain Loveday. + +He went to his room, hastily untied the package of tobacco that he +had brought home, and began to make use of it in his own way, +calling to David for a bottle of the old household mead that had +lain in the cellar these eleven years. He was discovered by his +father three-quarters of an hour later as a half-invisible object +behind a cloud of smoke. + +The miller drew a breath of relief. 'Why, Bob,' he said, 'I thought +the house was a-fire!' + +'I'm smoking rather fast to drown my reflections, father. 'Tis no +use to chaw.' + +To tempt his attenuated appetite the unhappy mate made David cook an +omelet and bake a seed-cake, the latter so richly compounded that it +opened to the knife like a freckled buttercup. With the same object +he stuck night-lines into the banks of the mill-pond, and drew up +next morning a family of fat eels, some of which were skinned and +prepared for his breakfast. They were his favourite fish, but such +had been his condition that, until the moment of making this effort, +he had quite forgotten their existence at his father's back-door. + +In a few days Bob Loveday had considerably improved in tone and +vigour. One other obvious remedy for his dejection was to indulge +in the society of Miss Garland, love being so much more effectually +got rid of by displacement than by attempted annihilation. But +Loveday's belief that he had offended her beyond forgiveness, and +his ever-present sense of her as a woman who by education and +antecedents was fitted to adorn a higher sphere than his own, +effectually kept him from going near her for a long time, +notwithstanding that they were inmates of one house. The reserve +was, however, in some degree broken by the appearance one morning, +later in the season, of the point of a saw through the partition +which divided Anne's room from the Loveday half of the house. +Though she dined and supped with her mother and the Loveday family, +Miss Garland had still continued to occupy her old apartments, +because she found it more convenient there to pursue her hobbies of +wool-work and of copying her father's old pictures. The division +wall had not as yet been broken down. + +As the saw worked its way downwards under her astonished gaze Anne +jumped up from her drawing; and presently the temporary canvasing +and papering which had sealed up the old door of communication was +cut completely through. The door burst open, and Bob stood revealed +on the other side, with the saw in his hand. + +'I beg your ladyship's pardon,' he said, taking off the hat he had +been working in, as his handsome face expanded into a smile. 'I +didn't know this door opened into your private room.' + +'Indeed, Captain Loveday!' + +'I am pulling down the division on principle, as we are now one +family. But I really thought the door opened into your passage.' + +'It don't matter; I can get another room.' + +'Not at all. Father wouldn't let me turn you out. I'll close it up +again.' + +But Anne was so interested in the novelty of a new doorway that she +walked through it, and found herself in a dark low passage which she +had never seen before. + +'It leads to the mill,' said Bob. 'Would you like to go in and see +it at work? But perhaps you have already.' + +'Only into the ground floor.' + +'Come all over it. I am practising as grinder, you know, to help my +father.' + +She followed him along the dark passage, in the side of which he +opened a little trap, when she saw a great slimy cavern, where the +long arms of the mill-wheel flung themselves slowly and distractedly +round, and splashing water-drops caught the little light that +strayed into the gloomy place, turning it into stars and flashes. A +cold mist-laden puff of air came into their faces, and the roar from +within made it necessary for Anne to shout as she said, 'It is +dismal! let us go on.' + +Bob shut the trap, the roar ceased, and they went on to the inner +part of the mill, where the air was warm and nutty, and pervaded by +a fog of flour. Then they ascended the stairs, and saw the stones +lumbering round and round, and the yellow corn running down through +the hopper. They climbed yet further to the top stage, where the +wheat lay in bins, and where long rays like feelers stretched in +from the sun through the little window, got nearly lost among +cobwebs and timber, and completed their course by marking the +opposite wall with a glowing patch of gold. + +In his earnestness as an exhibitor Bob opened the bolter, which was +spinning rapidly round, the result being that a dense cloud of flour +rolled out in their faces, reminding Anne that her complexion was +probably much paler by this time than when she had entered the mill. +She thanked her companion for his trouble, and said she would now go +down. He followed her with the same deference as hitherto, and with +a sudden and increasing sense that of all cures for his former +unhappy passion this would have been the nicest, the easiest, and +the most effectual, if he had only been fortunate enough to keep her +upon easy terms. But Miss Garland showed no disposition to go +further than accept his services as a guide; she descended to the +open air, shook the flour from her like a bird, and went on into the +garden amid the September sunshine, whose rays lay level across the +blue haze which the earth gave forth. The gnats were dancing up and +down in airy companies, the nasturtium flowers shone out in groups +from the dark hedge over which they climbed, and the mellow smell of +the decline of summer was exhaled by everything. Bob followed her +as far as the gate, looked after her, thought of her as the same +girl who had half encouraged him years ago, when she seemed so +superior to him; though now they were almost equal she apparently +thought him beneath her. It was with a new sense of pleasure that +his mind flew to the fact that she was now an inmate of his father's +house. + +His obsequious bearing was continued during the next week. In the +busy hours of the day they seldom met, but they regularly +encountered each other at meals, and these cheerful occasions began +to have an interest for him quite irrespective of dishes and cups. +When Anne entered and took her seat she was always loudly hailed by +Miller Loveday as he whetted his knife; but from Bob she +condescended to accept no such familiar greeting, and they often sat +down together as if each had a blind eye in the direction of the +other. Bob sometimes told serious and correct stories about sea- +captains, pilots, boatswains, mates, able seamen, and other curious +fauna of the marine world; but these were directly addressed to his +father and Mrs. Loveday, Anne being included at the clinching-point +by a glance only. He sometimes opened bottles of sweet cider for +her, and then she thanked him; but even this did not lead to her +encouraging his chat. + +One day when Anne was paring an apple she was left at table with the +young man. 'I have made something for you,' he said. + +She looked all over the table; nothing was there save the ordinary +remnants. + +'O I don't mean that it is here; it is out by the bridge at the +mill-head.' + +He arose, and Anne followed with curiosity in her eyes, and with her +firm little mouth pouted up to a puzzled shape. On reaching the +mossy mill-head she found that he had fixed in the keen damp draught +which always prevailed over the wheel an AEolian harp of large size. +At present the strings were partly covered with a cloth. He lifted +it, and the wires began to emit a weird harmony which mingled +curiously with the plashing of the wheel. + +'I made it on purpose for you, Miss Garland,' he said. + +She thanked him very warmly, for she had never seen anything like +such an instrument before, and it interested her. 'It was very +thoughtful of you to make it,' she added. 'How came you to think of +such a thing?' + +'O I don't know exactly,' he replied, as if he did not care to be +questioned on the point. 'I have never made one in my life till +now.' + +Every night after this, during the mournful gales of autumn, the +strange mixed music of water, wind, and strings met her ear, +swelling and sinking with an almost supernatural cadence. The +character of the instrument was far enough removed from anything she +had hitherto seen of Bob's hobbies; so that she marvelled pleasantly +at the new depths of poetry this contrivance revealed as existent in +that young seaman's nature, and allowed her emotions to flow out yet +a little further in the old direction, notwithstanding her late +severe resolve to bar them back. + +One breezy night, when the mill was kept going into the small hours, +and the wind was exactly in the direction of the water-current, the +music so mingled with her dreams as to wake her: it seemed to +rhythmically set itself to the words, 'Remember me! think of me!' +She was much impressed; the sounds were almost too touching; and she +spoke to Bob the next morning on the subject. + +'How strange it is that you should have thought of fixing that harp +where the water gushes!' she gently observed. 'It affects me almost +painfully at night. You are poetical, Captain Bob. But it is too-- +too sad!' + +'I will take it away,' said Captain Bob promptly. 'It certainly is +too sad; I thought so myself. I myself was kept awake by it one +night.' + +'How came you to think of making such a peculiar thing?' + +'Well,' said Bob, 'it is hardly worth saying why. It is not a good +place for such a queer noisy machine; and I'll take it away.' + +'On second thoughts,' said Anne, 'I should like it to remain a +little longer, because it sets me thinking.' + +'Of me?' he asked with earnest frankness. + +Anne's colour rose fast. + +'Well, yes,' she said, trying to infuse much plain matter-of-fact +into her voice. 'Of course I am led to think of the person who +invented it.' + +Bob seemed unaccountably embarrassed, and the subject was not +pursued. About half-an-hour later he came to her again, with +something of an uneasy look. + +'There was a little matter I didn't tell you just now, Miss +Garland,' he said. 'About that harp thing, I mean. I did make it, +certainly, but it was my brother John who asked me to do it, just +before he went away. John is very musical, as you know, and he said +it would interest you; but as he didn't ask me to tell, I did not. +Perhaps I ought to have, and not have taken the credit to myself.' + +'O, it is nothing!' said Anne quickly. 'It is a very incomplete +instrument after all, and it will be just as well for you to take it +away as you first proposed.' + +He said that he would, but he forgot to do it that day; and the +following night there was a high wind, and the harp cried and moaned +so movingly that Anne, whose window was quite near, could hardly +bear the sound with its new associations. John Loveday was present +to her mind all night as an ill-used man; and yet she could not own +that she had ill-used him. + +The harp was removed next day. Bob, feeling that his credit for +originality was damaged in her eyes, by way of recovering it set +himself to paint the summer-house which Anne frequented, and when he +came out he assured her that it was quite his own idea. + +'It wanted doing, certainly,' she said, in a neutral tone. + +'It is just about troublesome.' + +'Yes; you can't quite reach up. That's because you are not very +tall; is it not, Captain Loveday?' + +'You never used to say things like that.' + +'O, I don't mean that you are much less than tall! Shall I hold the +paint for you, to save your stepping down?' + +'Thank you, if you would.' + +She took the paint-pot, and stood looking at the brush as it moved +up and down in his hand. + +'I hope I shall not sprinkle your fingers,' he observed as he +dipped. + +'O, that would not matter! You do it very well.' + +'I am glad to hear that you think so.' + +'But perhaps not quite so much art is demanded to paint a +summer-house as to paint a picture?' + +Thinking that, as a painter's daughter, and a person of education +superior to his own, she spoke with a flavour of sarcasm, he felt +humbled and said-- + +'You did not use to talk like that to me.' + +'I was perhaps too young then to take any pleasure in giving pain,' +she observed daringly. + +'Does it give you pleasure?' + +Anne nodded. + +'I like to give pain to people who have given pain to me,' she said +smartly, without removing her eyes from the green liquid in her +hand. + +'I ask your pardon for that.' + +'I didn't say I meant you--though I did mean you.' + +Bob looked and looked at her side face till he was bewitched into +putting down his brush. + +'It was that stupid forgetting of 'ee for a time!' he exclaimed. +'Well, I hadn't seen you for so very long--consider how many years! +O, dear Anne!' he said, advancing to take her hand, 'how well we +knew one another when we were children! You was a queen to me then; +and so you are now, and always.' + +Possibly Anne was thrilled pleasantly enough at having brought the +truant village lad to her feet again; but he was not to find the +situation so easy as he imagined, and her hand was not to be taken +yet. + +'Very pretty!' she said, laughing. 'And only six weeks since Miss +Johnson left.' + +'Zounds, don't say anything about that!' implored Bob. 'I swear +that I never--never deliberately loved her--for a long time +together, that is; it was a sudden sort of thing, you know. But +towards you--I have more or less honoured and respectfully loved +you, off and on, all my life. There, that's true.' + +Anne retorted quickly-- + +'I am willing, off and on, to believe you, Captain Robert. But I +don't see any good in your making these solemn declarations.' + +'Give me leave to explain, dear Miss Garland. It is to get you to +be pleased to renew an old promise--made years ago--that you'll +think o' me.' + +'Not a word of any promise will I repeat.' + +'Well, well, I won't urge 'ee today. Only let me beg of you to get +over the quite wrong notion you have of me; and it shall be my whole +endeavour to fetch your gracious favour.' + +Anne turned away from him and entered the house, whither in the +course of a quarter of an hour he followed her, knocking at her +door, and asking to be let in. She said she was busy; whereupon he +went away, to come back again in a short time and receive the same +answer. + +'I have finished painting the summer-house for you,' he said through +the door. + +'I cannot come to see it. I shall be engaged till supper-time.' + +She heard him breathe a heavy sigh and withdraw, murmuring something +about his bad luck in being cut away from the starn like this. But +it was not over yet. When supper-time came and they sat down +together, she took upon herself to reprove him for what he had said +to her in the garden. + +Bob made his forehead express despair. + +'Now, I beg you this one thing,' he said. 'Just let me know your +whole mind. Then I shall have a chance to confess my faults and +mend them, or clear my conduct to your satisfaction.' + +She answered with quickness, but not loud enough to be heard by the +old people at the other end of the table--'Then, Captain Loveday, I +will tell you one thing, one fault, that perhaps would have been +more proper to my character than to yours. You are too easily +impressed by new faces, and that gives me a BAD OPINION of you--yes, +a BAD OPINION.' + +'O, that's it!' said Bob slowly, looking at her with the intense +respect of a pupil for a master, her words being spoken in a manner +so precisely between jest and earnest that he was in some doubt how +they were to be received. 'Impressed by new faces. It is wrong, +certainly, of me.' + +The popping of a cork, and the pouring out of strong beer by the +miller with a view to giving it a head, were apparently distractions +sufficient to excuse her in not attending further to him; and during +the remainder of the sitting her gentle chiding seemed to be sinking +seriously into his mind. Perhaps her own heart ached to see how +silent he was; but she had always meant to punish him. Day after +day for two or three weeks she preserved the same demeanour, with a +self-control which did justice to her character. And, on his part, +considering what he had to put up with--how she eluded him, snapped +him off, refused to come out when he called her, refused to see him +when he wanted to enter the little parlour which she had now +appropriated to her private use, his patience testified strongly to +his good-humour. + + + +XXIII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS ON AN EXTENDED SCALE + +Christmas had passed. Dreary winter with dark evenings had given +place to more dreary winter with light evenings. Rapid thaws had +ended in rain, rain in wind, wind in dust. Showery days had come-- +the season of pink dawns and white sunsets; and people hoped that +the March weather was over. + +The chief incident that concerned the household at the mill was that +the miller, following the example of all his neighbours, had become +a volunteer, and duly appeared twice a week in a red, long-tailed +military coat, pipe-clayed breeches, black cloth gaiters, a +heel-balled helmet-hat, with a tuft of green wool, and epaulettes of +the same colour and material. Bob still remained neutral. Not +being able to decide whether to enrol himself as a sea-fencible, a +local militia-man, or a volunteer, he simply went on dancing +attendance upon Anne. Mrs. Loveday had become awake to the fact +that the pair of young people stood in a curious attitude towards +each other; but as they were never seen with their heads together, +and scarcely ever sat even in the same room, she could not be sure +what their movements meant. + +Strangely enough (or perhaps naturally enough), since entering the +Loveday family herself, she had gradually grown to think less +favourably of Anne doing the same thing, and reverted to her +original idea of encouraging Festus; this more particularly because +he had of late shown such perseverance in haunting the precincts of +the mill, presumably with the intention of lighting upon the young +girl. But the weather had kept her mostly indoors. + +One afternoon it was raining in torrents. Such leaves as there were +on trees at this time of year--those of the laurel and other +evergreens--staggered beneath the hard blows of the drops which fell +upon them, and afterwards could be seen trickling down the stems +beneath and silently entering the ground. The surface of the +mill-pond leapt up in a thousand spirts under the same downfall, and +clucked like a hen in the rat-holes along the banks as it undulated +under the wind. The only dry spot visible from the front windows of +the mill-house was the inside of a small shed, on the opposite side +of the courtyard. While Mrs. Loveday was noticing the threads of +rain descending across its interior shade, Festus Derriman walked up +and entered it for shelter, which, owing to the lumber within, it +but scantily afforded to a man who would have been a match for one +of Frederick William's Patagonians. + +It was an excellent opportunity for helping on her scheme. Anne was +in the back room, and by asking him in till the rain was over she +would bring him face to face with her daughter, whom, as the days +went on, she increasingly wished to marry other than a Loveday, now +that the romance of her own alliance with the millet had in some +respects worn off. She was better provided for than before; she was +not unhappy; but the plain fact was that she had married beneath +her. She beckoned to Festus through the window-pane; he instantly +complied with her signal, having in fact placed himself there on +purpose to be noticed; for he knew that Miss Garland would not be +out-of-doors on such a day. + +'Good afternoon, Mrs. Loveday,' said Festus on entering. 'There +now--if I didn't think that's how it would be!' His voice had +suddenly warmed to anger, for he had seen a door close in the back +part of the room, a lithe figure having previously slipped through. + +Mrs. Loveday turned, observed that Anne was gone, and said, 'What is +it?' as if she did not know. + +'O, nothing, nothing!' said Festus crossly. 'You know well enough +what it is, ma'am; only you make pretence otherwise. But I'll bring +her to book yet. You shall drop your haughty airs, my charmer! She +little thinks I have kept an account of 'em all.' + +'But you must treat her politely, sir,' said Mrs. Loveday, secretly +pleased at these signs of uncontrollable affection. + +'Don't tell me of politeness or generosity, ma'am! She is more than +a match for me. She regularly gets over me. I have passed by this +house five-and-fifty times since last Martinmas, and this is all my +reward for't!' + +'But you will stay till the rain is over, sir?' + +'No. I don't mind rain. I'm off again. She's got somebody else in +her eye!' And the yeoman went out, slamming the door. + +Meanwhile the slippery object of his hopes had gone along the dark +passage, passed the trap which opened on the wheel, and through the +door into the mill, where she was met by Bob, who looked up from the +flour-shoot inquiringly and said, 'You want me, Miss Garland?' + +'O no,' said she. 'I only want to be allowed to stand here a few +minutes.' + +He looked at her to know if she meant it, and finding that she did, +returned to his post. When the mill had rumbled on a little longer +he came back. + +'Bob,' she said, when she saw him move, 'remember that you are at +work, and have no time to stand close to me.' + +He bowed and went to his original post again, Anne watching from the +window till Festus should leave. The mill rumbled on as before, and +at last Bob came to her for the third time. 'Now, Bob--' she began. + +'On my honour, 'tis only to ask a question. Will you walk with me +to church next Sunday afternoon?' + +'Perhaps I will,' she said. But at this moment the yeoman left the +house, and Anne, to escape further parley, returned to the dwelling +by the way she had come. + +Sunday afternoon arrived, and the family was standing at the door +waiting for the church bells to begin. From that side of the house +they could see southward across a paddock to the rising ground +further ahead, where there grew a large elm-tree, beneath whose +boughs footpaths crossed in different directions, like meridians at +the pole. The tree was old, and in summer the grass beneath it was +quite trodden away by the feet of the many trysters and idlers who +haunted the spot. The tree formed a conspicuous object in the +surrounding landscape. + +While they looked, a foot soldier in red uniform and white breeches +came along one of the paths, and stopping beneath the elm, took from +his pocket a paper, which he proceeded to nail up by the four +corners to the trunk. He drew back, looked at it, and went on his +way. Bob got his glass from indoors and levelled it at the placard, +but after looking for a long time he could make out nothing but a +lion and a unicorn at the top. Anne, who was ready for church, +moved away from the door, though it was yet early, and showed her +intention of going by way of the elm. The paper had been so +impressively nailed up that she was curious to read it even at this +theological time. Bob took the opportunity of following, and +reminded her of her promise. + +'Then walk behind me not at all close,' she said. + +'Yes,' he replied, immediately dropping behind. + +The ludicrous humility of his manner led her to add playfully over +her shoulder, 'It serves you right, you know.' + +'I deserve anything, but I must take the liberty to say that I hope +my behaviour about Matil--, in forgetting you awhile, will not make +ye wish to keep me ALWAYS behind?' + +She replied confidentially, 'Why I am so earnest not to be seen with +you is that I may appear to people to be independent of you. +Knowing what I do of your weaknesses I can do no otherwise. You +must be schooled into--' + +'O, Anne,' sighed Bob, 'you hit me hard--too hard! If ever I do win +you I am sure I shall have fairly earned you.' + +'You are not what you once seemed to be,' she returned softly. 'I +don't quite like to let myself love you.' The last words were not +very audible, and as Bob was behind he caught nothing of them, nor +did he see how sentimental she had become all of a sudden. They +walked the rest of the way in silence, and coming to the tree read +as follows:-- + + +-------------------------------------------------------------------- +-------- + ADDRESS TO ALL RANKS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLISHMEN. + +FRIENDS AND COUNTRYMEN,--The French are now assembling the largest +force that ever was prepared to invade this Kingdom, with the +professed purpose of effecting our complete Ruin and Destruction. +They do not disguise their intentions, as they have often done to +other Countries; but openly boast that they will come over in such +Numbers as cannot be resisted. + +Wherever the French have lately appeared they have spared neither +Rich nor Poor, Old nor Young; but like a Destructive Pestilence have +laid waste and destroyed every Thing that before was fair and +flourishing. + +On this occasion no man's service is compelled, but you are invited +voluntarily to come forward in defence of everything that is dear to +you, by entering your Names on the Lists which are sent to the +Tything-man of every Parish, and engaging to act either as +ASSOCIATED VOLUNTEERS BEARING ARMS, AS PIONEERS AND LABOURERS, or as +DRIVERS OF WAGGONS. + +As Associated Volunteers you will be called out only once a week, +unless the actual Landing of the Enemy should render your further +Services necessary. + +As Pioneers or Labourers you will be employed in Breaking up Roads +to hinder the Enemy's advance. + +Those who have Pickaxes, Spades, Shovels, Bill-hooks, or other +Working Implements, are desired to mention them to the Constable or +Tything-man of their Parish, in order that they may be entered on +the Lists opposite their Homes, to be used if necessary. . . . + +It is thought desirable to give you this Explanation, that you may +not be ignorant of the Duties to which you may be called. But if +the love of true Liberty and honest Fame has not ceased to animate +the Hearts of Englishmen, Pay, though necessary, will be the least +Part of your Reward. You will find your best Recompense in having +done your Duty to your King and Country by driving back or +destroying your old and implacable Enemy, envious of your Freedom +and Happiness, and therefore seeking to destroy them; in having +protected your Wives and Children from Death, or worse than Death, +which will follow the Success of such Inveterate Foes. + +ROUSE, therefore, and unite as one man in the best of Causes! +United we may defy the World to conquer us; but Victory will never +belong to those who are slothful and unprepared. * +-------------------------------------------------------------------- +---- + +* Vide Preface. + + +'I must go and join at once!' said Bob. + +Anne turned to him, all the playfulness gone from her face. 'I wish +we lived in the north of England, Bob, so as to be further away from +where he'll land!' she murmured uneasily. + +'Where we are would be Paradise to me, if you would only make it +so.' + +'It is not right to talk so lightly at such a serious time,' she +thoughtfully returned, going on towards the church. + +On drawing near, they saw through the boughs of a clump of +intervening trees, still leafless, but bursting into buds of amber +hue, a glittering which seemed to be reflected from points of steel. +In a few moments they heard above the tender chiming of the church +bells the loud voice of a man giving words of command, at which all +the metallic points suddenly shifted like the bristles of a +porcupine, and glistened anew. + +''Tis the drilling,' said Loveday. 'They drill now between the +services, you know, because they can't get the men together so +readily in the week. It makes me feel that I ought to be doing more +than I am!' + +When they had passed round the belt of trees, the company of +recruits became visible, consisting of the able-bodied inhabitants +of the hamlets thereabout, more or less known to Bob and Anne. They +were assembled on the green plot outside the churchyard-gate, +dressed in their common clothes, and the sergeant who had been +putting them through their drill was the man who nailed up the +proclamation. He was now engaged in untying a canvas money-bag, +from which he drew forth a handful of shillings, giving one to each +man in payment for his attendance. + +'Men, I dismissed ye too soon--parade, parade again, I say,' he +cried. 'My watch is fast, I find. There's another twenty minutes +afore the worship of God commences. Now all of you that ha'n't got +firelocks, fall in at the lower end. Eyes right and dress!' + +As every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, those at the end +of the line pressed forward for that purpose, till the line assumed +the form of a bow. + +'Look at ye now! Why, you are all a crooking in! Dress, dress!' + +They dressed forthwith; but impelled by the same motive they soon +resumed their former figure, and so they were despairingly permitted +to remain. + +'Now, I hope you'll have a little patience,' said the sergeant, as +he stood in the centre of the arc, 'and pay strict attention to the +word of command, just exactly as I give it out to ye; and if I +should go wrong, I shall be much obliged to any friend who'll put me +right again, for I have only been in the army three weeks myself, +and we are all liable to mistakes.' + +'So we be, so we be,' said the line heartily. + +''Tention, the whole, then. Poise fawlocks! Very well done!' + +'Please, what must we do that haven't got no firelocks!' said the +lower end of the line in a helpless voice. + +'Now, was ever such a question! Why, you must do nothing at all, +but think HOW you'd poise 'em IF you had 'em. You middle men, that +are armed with hurdle-sticks and cabbage-stumps just to +make-believe, must of course use 'em as if they were the real thing. +Now then, cock fawlocks! Present! Fire! (Pretend to, I mean, and +the same time throw yer imagination into the field o' battle.) Very +good--very good indeed; except that some of you were a LITTLE too +soon, and the rest a LITTLE too late.' + +'Please, sergeant, can I fall out, as I am master-player in the +choir, and my bass-viol strings won't stand at this time o' year, +unless they be screwed up a little before the passon comes in?' + +'How can you think of such trifles as churchgoing at such a time as +this, when your own native country is on the point of invasion?' +said the sergeant sternly. 'And, as you know, the drill ends three +minutes afore church begins, and that's the law, and it wants a +quarter of an hour yet. Now, at the word PRIME, shake the powder +(supposing you've got it) into the priming-pan, three last fingers +behind the rammer; then shut your pans, drawing your right arm +nimble-like towards your body. I ought to have told ye before this, +that at HAND YOUR KATRIDGE, seize it and bring it with a quick +motion to your mouth, bite the top well off, and don't swaller so +much of the powder as to make ye hawk and spet instead of attending +to your drill. What's that man a-saying of in the rear rank?' + +'Please, sir, 'tis Anthony Cripplestraw, wanting to know how he's to +bite off his katridge, when he haven't a tooth left in 's head?' + +'Man! Why, what's your genius for war? Hold it up to your +right-hand man's mouth, to be sure, and let him nip it off for ye. +Well, what have you to say, Private Tremlett? Don't ye understand +English?' + +'Ask yer pardon, sergeant; but what must we infantry of the awkward +squad do if Boney comes afore we get our firelocks?' + +'Take a pike, like the rest of the incapables. You'll find a store +of them ready in the corner of the church tower. Now then-- +Shoulder--r--r--r--' + +'There, they be tinging in the passon!' exclaimed David, Miller +Loveday's man, who also formed one of the company, as the bells +changed from chiming all three together to a quick beating of one. +The whole line drew a breath of relief, threw down their arms, and +began running off. + +'Well, then, I must dismiss ye,' said the sergeant. 'Come back-- +come back! Next drill is Tuesday afternoon at four. And, mind, if +your masters won't let ye leave work soon enough, tell me, and I'll +write a line to Gover'ment! 'Tention! To the right--left wheel, I +mean--no, no--right wheel. Mar--r--r--rch!' + +Some wheeled to the right and some to the left, and some obliging +men, including Cripplestraw, tried to wheel both ways. + +'Stop, stop; try again! 'Cruits and comrades, unfortunately when +I'm in a hurry I can never remember my right hand from my left, and +never could as a boy. You must excuse me, please. Practice makes +perfect, as the saying is; and, much as I've learnt since I 'listed, +we always find something new. Now then, right wheel! march! halt! +Stand at ease! dismiss! I think that's the order o't, but I'll look +in the Gover'ment book afore Tuesday.' * + +* Vide Preface + +Many of the company who had been drilled preferred to go off and +spend their shillings instead of entering the church; but Anne and +Captain Bob passed in. Even the interior of the sacred edifice was +affected by the agitation of the times. The religion of the country +had, in fact, changed from love of God to hatred of Napoleon +Buonaparte; and, as if to remind the devout of this alteration, the +pikes for the pikemen (all those accepted men who were not otherwise +armed) were kept in the church of each parish. There, against the +wall, they always stood--a whole sheaf of them, formed of new ash +stems, with a spike driven in at one end, the stick being preserved +from splitting by a ferule. And there they remained, year after +year, in the corner of the aisle, till they were removed and placed +under the gallery stairs, and thence ultimately to the belfry, where +they grew black, rusty, and worm-eaten, and were gradually stolen +and carried off by sextons, parish clerks, whitewashers, +window-menders, and other church servants for use at home as +rake-stems, benefit-club staves, and pick-handles, in which degraded +situations they may still occasionally be found. + +But in their new and shining state they had a terror for Anne, whose +eyes were involuntarily drawn towards them as she sat at Bob's side +during the service, filling her with bloody visions of their +possible use not far from the very spot on which they were now +assembled. The sermon, too, was on the subject of patriotism; so +that when they came out she began to harp uneasily upon the +probability of their all being driven from their homes. + +Bob assured her that with the sixty thousand regulars, the militia +reserve of a hundred and twenty thousand, and the three hundred +thousand volunteers, there was not much to fear. + +'But I sometimes have a fear that poor John will be killed,' he +continued after a pause. 'He is sure to be among the first that +will have to face the invaders, and the trumpeters get picked off.' + +'There is the same chance for him as for the others,' said Anne. + +'Yes--yes--the same chance, such as it is. You have never liked +John since that affair of Matilda Johnson, have you?' + +'Why?' she quickly asked. + +'Well,' said Bob timidly, 'as it is a ticklish time for him, would +it not be worth while to make up any differences before the crash +comes?' + +'I have nothing to make up,' said Anne, with some distress. She +still fully believed the trumpet-major to have smuggled away Miss +Johnson because of his own interest in that lady, which must have +made his professions to herself a mere pastime; but that very +conduct had in it the curious advantage to herself of setting Bob +free. + +'Since John has been gone,' continued her companion, 'I have found +out more of his meaning, and of what he really had to do with that +woman's flight. Did you know that he had anything to do with it?' + +'Yes.' + +'That he got her to go away?' + +She looked at Bob with surprise. He was not exasperated with John, +and yet he knew so much as this. + +'Yes,' she said; 'what did it mean?' + +He did not explain to her then; but the possibility of John's death, +which had been newly brought home to him by the military events of +the day, determined him to get poor John's character cleared. +Reproaching himself for letting her remain so long with a mistaken +idea of him, Bob went to his father as soon as they got home, and +begged him to get Mrs. Loveday to tell Anne the true reason of +John's objection to Miss Johnson as a sister-in-law. + +'She thinks it is because they were old lovers new met, and that he +wants to marry her,' he exclaimed to his father in conclusion. + +'Then THAT'S the meaning of the split between Miss Nancy and Jack,' +said the miller. + +'What, were they any more than common friends?' asked Bob uneasily. + +'Not on her side, perhaps.' + +'Well, we must do it,' replied Bob, painfully conscious that common +justice to John might bring them into hazardous rivalry, yet +determined to be fair. 'Tell it all to Mrs. Loveday, and get her to +tell Anne.' + + + +XXIV. A LETTER, A VISITOR, AND A TIN BOX + +The result of the explanation upon Anne was bitter self-reproach. +She was so sorry at having wronged the kindly soldier that next +morning she went by herself to the down, and stood exactly where his +tent had covered the sod on which he had lain so many nights, +thinking what sadness he must have suffered because of her at the +time of packing up and going away. After that she wiped from her +eyes the tears of pity which had come there, descended to the house, +and wrote an impulsive letter to him, in which occurred the +following passages, indiscreet enough under the circumstances:-- + +'I find all justice, all rectitude, on your side, John; and all +impertinence, all inconsiderateness, on mine. I am so much +convinced of your honour in the whole transaction, that I shall for +the future mistrust myself in everything. And if it be possible, +whenever I differ from you on any point I shall take an hour's time +for consideration before I say that I differ. If I have lost your +friendship, I have only myself to thank for it; but I sincerely hope +that you can forgive.' + +After writing this she went to the garden, where Bob was shearing +the spring grass from the paths. 'What is John's direction?' she +said, holding the sealed letter in her hand. + +'Exonbury Barracks,' Bob faltered, his countenance sinking. + +She thanked him and went indoors. When he came in, later in the +day, he passed the door of her empty sitting-room and saw the letter +on the mantelpiece. He disliked the sight of it. Hearing voices in +the other room, he entered and found Anne and her mother there, +talking to Cripplestraw, who had just come in with a message from +Squire Derriman, requesting Miss Garland, as she valued the peace of +mind of an old and troubled man, to go at once and see him. + +'I cannot go,' she said, not liking the risk that such a visit +involved. + +An hour later Cripplestraw shambled again into the passage, on the +same errand. + +'Maister's very poorly, and he hopes that you'll come, Mis'ess Anne. +He wants to see 'ee very particular about the French.' + +Anne would have gone in a moment, but for the fear that some one +besides the farmer might encounter her, and she answered as before. + +Another hour passed, and the wheels of a vehicle were heard. +Cripplestraw had come for the third time, with a horse and gig; he +was dressed in his best clothes, and brought with him on this +occasion a basket containing raisins, almonds, oranges, and sweet +cakes. Offering them to her as a gift from the old farmer, he +repeated his request for her to accompany him, the gig and best mare +having been sent as an additional inducement. + +'I believe the old gentleman is in love with you, Anne,' said her +mother. + +'Why couldn't he drive down himself to see me?' Anne inquired of +Cripplestraw. + +'He wants you at the house, please.' + +'Is Mr. Festus with him?' + +'No; he's away to Budmouth.' + +'I'll go,' said she. + +'And I may come and meet you?' said Bob. + +'There's my letter--what shall I do about that?' she said, instead +of answering him. 'Take my letter to the post-office, and you may +come,' she added. + +He said yes and went out, Cripplestraw retreating to the door till +she should be ready. + +'What letter is it?' said her mother. + +'Only one to John,' said Anne. 'I have asked him to forgive my +suspicions. I could do no less.' + +'Do you want to marry HIM?' asked Mrs. Loveday bluntly. + +'Mother!' + +'Well; he will take that letter as an encouragement. Can't you see +that he will, you foolish girl?' + +Anne did see instantly. 'Of course!' she said. 'Tell Robert that +he need not go.' + +She went to her room to secure the letter. It was gone from the +mantelpiece, and on inquiry it was found that the miller, seeing it +there, had sent David with it to Budmouth hours ago. Anne said +nothing, and set out for Oxwell Hall with Cripplestraw. + +'William,' said Mrs. Loveday to the miller when Anne was gone and +Bob had resumed his work in the garden, 'did you get that letter +sent off on purpose?' + +'Well, I did. I wanted to make sure of it. John likes her, and now +'twill be made up; and why shouldn't he marry her? I'll start him +in business, if so be she'll have him.' + +'But she is likely to marry Festus Derriman.' + +'I don't want her to marry anybody but John,' said the miller +doggedly. + +'Not if she is in love with Bob, and has been for years, and he with +her?' asked his wife triumphantly. + +'In love with Bob, and he with her?' repeated Loveday. + +'Certainly,' said she, going off and leaving him to his reflections. + +When Anne reached the hall she found old Mr. Derriman in his +customary chair. His complexion was more ashen, but his movement in +rising at her entrance, putting a chair and shutting the door behind +her, were much the same as usual. + +'Thank God you've come, my dear girl,' he said earnestly. 'Ah, you +don't trip across to read to me now! Why did ye cost me so much to +fetch you? Fie! A horse and gig, and a man's time in going three +times. And what I sent ye cost a good deal in Budmouth market, now +everything is so dear there, and 'twould have cost more if I hadn't +bought the raisins and oranges some months ago, when they were +cheaper. I tell you this because we are old friends, and I have +nobody else to tell my troubles to. But I don't begrudge anything +to ye since you've come.' + +'I am not much pleased to come, even now,' said she. 'What can make +you so seriously anxious to see me?' + +'Well, you be a good girl and true; and I've been thinking that of +all people of the next generation that I can trust, you are the +best. 'Tis my bonds and my title-deeds, such as they be, and the +leases, you know, and a few guineas in packets, and more than these, +my will, that I have to speak about. Now do ye come this way.' + +'O, such things as those!' she returned, with surprise. 'I don't +understand those things at all.' + +'There's nothing to understand. 'Tis just this. The French will be +here within two months; that's certain. I have it on the best +authority, that the army at Boulogne is ready, the boats equipped, +the plans laid, and the First Consul only waits for a tide. Heaven +knows what will become o' the men o' these parts! But most likely +the women will he spared. Now I'll show 'ee.' + +He led her across the hall to a stone staircase of semi-circular +plan, which conducted to the cellars. + +'Down here?' she said. + +'Yes; I must trouble ye to come down here. I have thought and +thought who is the woman that can best keep a secret for six months, +and I say, "Anne Garland." You won't be married before then?' + +'O no!' murmured the young woman. + +'I wouldn't expect ye to keep a close tongue after such a thing as +that. But it will not be necessary.' + +When they reached the bottom of the steps he struck a light from a +tinder-box, and unlocked the middle one of three doors which +appeared in the whitewashed wall opposite. The rays of the candle +fell upon the vault and sides of a long low cellar, littered with +decayed woodwork from other parts of the hall, among the rest stair- +balusters, carved finials, tracery panels, and wainscoting. But +what most attracted her eye was a small flagstone turned up in the +middle of the floor, a heap of earth beside it, and a +measuring-tape. Derriman went to the corner of the cellar, and +pulled out a clamped box from under the straw. 'You be rather +heavy, my dear, eh?' he said, affectionately addressing the box as +he lifted it. 'But you are going to be put in a safe place, you +know, or that rascal will get hold of ye, and carry ye off and ruin +me.' He then with some difficulty lowered the box into the hole, +raked in the earth upon it, and lowered the flagstone, which he was +a long time in fixing to his satisfaction. Miss Garland, who was +romantically interested, helped him to brush away the fragments of +loose earth; and when he had scattered over the floor a little of +the straw that lay about, they again ascended to upper air. + +'Is this all, sir?' said Anne. + +'Just a moment longer, honey. Will you come into the great +parlour?' + +She followed him thither. + +'If anything happens to me while the fighting is going on--it may be +on these very fields--you will know what to do,' he resumed. 'But +first please sit down again, there's a dear, whilst I write what's +in my head. See, there's the best paper, and a new quill that I've +afforded myself for't.' + +'What a strange business! I don't think I much like it, Mr. +Derriman,' she said, seating herself. + +He had by this time begun to write, and murmured as he wrote-- + +'"Twenty-three and a half from N.W. Sixteen and three-quarters from +N.E."--There, that's all. Now I seal it up and give it to you to +keep safe till I ask ye for it, or you hear of my being trampled +down by the enemy.' + +'What does it mean?' she asked, as she received the paper. + +'Clk! Ha! ha! Why, that's the distance of the box from the two +corners of the cellar. I measured it before you came. And, my +honey, to make all sure, if the French soldiery are after ye, tell +your mother the meaning on't, or any other friend, in case they +should put ye to death, and the secret be lost. But that I am sure +I hope they won't do, though your pretty face will be a sad bait to +the soldiers. I often have wished you was my daughter, honey; and +yet in these times the less cares a man has the better, so I am glad +you bain't. Shall my man drive you home?' + +'No, no,' she said, much depressed by the words he had uttered. 'I +can find my way. You need not trouble to come down.' + +'Then take care of the paper. And if you outlive me, you'll find I +have not forgot you.' + + + +XXV. FESTUS SHOWS HIS LOVE + +Festus Derriman had remained in the Royal watering-place all that +day, his horse being sick at stables; but, wishing to coax or bully +from his uncle a remount for the coming summer, he set off on foot +for Oxwell early in the evening. When he drew near to the village, +or rather to the hall, which was a mile from the village, he +overtook a slim, quick-eyed woman, sauntering along at a leisurely +pace. She was fashionably dressed in a green spencer, with +'Mameluke' sleeves, and wore a velvet Spanish hat and feather. + +'Good afternoon t'ye, ma'am,' said Festus, throwing a +sword-and-pistol air into his greeting. 'You are out for a walk?' + +'I AM out for a walk, captain,' said the lady, who had criticized +him from the crevice of her eye, without seeming to do much more +than continue her demure look forward, and gave the title as a sop +to his apparent character. + +'From the town?--I'd swear it, ma'am; 'pon my honour I would!' + +'Yes, I am from the town, sir,' said she. + +'Ah, you are a visitor! I know every one of the regular +inhabitants; we soldiers are in and out there continually. Festus +Derriman, Yeomanry Cavalry, you know. The fact is, the +watering-place is under our charge; the folks will be quite +dependent upon us for their deliverance in the coming struggle. We +hold our lives in our hands, and theirs, I may say, in our pockets. +What made you come here, ma'am, at such a critical time?' + +'I don't see that it is such a critical time?' + +'But it is, though; and so you'd say if you was as much mixed up +with the military affairs of the nation as some of us.' + +The lady smiled. 'The King is coming this year, anyhow,' said she. + +'Never!' said Festus firmly. 'Ah, you are one of the attendants at +court perhaps, come on ahead to get the King's chambers ready, in +case Boney should not land?' + +'No,' she said; 'I am connected with the theatre, though not just at +the present moment. I have been out of luck for the last year or +two; but I have fetched up again. I join the company when they +arrive for the season.' + +Festus surveyed her with interest. 'Faith! and is it so? Well, +ma'am, what part do you play?' + +'I am mostly the leading lady--the heroine,' she said, drawing +herself up with dignity. + +'I'll come and have a look at ye if all's well, and the landing is +put off--hang me if I don't!--Hullo, hullo, what do I see?' + +His eyes were stretched towards a distant field, which Anne Garland +was at that moment hastily crossing, on her way from the hall to +Overcombe. + +'I must be off. Good-day to ye, dear creature!' he exclaimed, +hurrying forward. + +The lady said, 'O, you droll monster!' as she smiled and watched him +stride ahead. + +Festus bounded on over the hedge, across the intervening patch of +green, and into the field which Anne was still crossing. In a +moment or two she looked back, and seeing the well-known Herculean +figure of the yeoman behind her felt rather alarmed, though she +determined to show no difference in her outward carriage. But to +maintain her natural gait was beyond her powers. She spasmodically +quickened her pace; fruitlessly, however, for he gained upon her, +and when within a few strides of her exclaimed, 'Well, my darling!' +Anne started off at a run. + +Festus was already out of breath, and soon found that he was not +likely to overtake her. On she went, without turning her head, till +an unusual noise behind compelled her to look round. His face was +in the act of falling back; he swerved on one side, and dropped like +a log upon a convenient hedgerow-bank which bordered the path. +There he lay quite still. + +Anne was somewhat alarmed; and after standing at gaze for two or +three minutes, drew nearer to him, a step and a half at a time, +wondering and doubting, as a meek ewe draws near to some strolling +vagabond who flings himself on the grass near the flock. + +'He is in a swoon!' she murmured. + +Her heart beat quickly, and she looked around. Nobody was in sight; +she advanced a step nearer still and observed him again. Apparently +his face was turning to a livid hue, and his breathing had become +obstructed. + +''Tis not a swoon; 'tis apoplexy!' she said, in deep distress. 'I +ought to untie his neck.' But she was afraid to do this, and only +drew a little closer still. + +Miss Garland was now within three feet of him, whereupon the +senseless man, who could hold his breath no longer, sprang to his +feet and darted at her, saying, 'Ha! ha! a scheme for a kiss!' + +She felt his arm slipping round her neck; but, twirling about with +amazing dexterity, she wriggled from his embrace and ran away along +the field. The force with which she had extricated herself was +sufficient to throw Festus upon the grass, and by the time that he +got upon his legs again she was many yards off. Uttering a word +which was not exactly a blessing, he immediately gave chase; and +thus they ran till Anne entered a meadow divided down the middle by +a brook about six feet wide. A narrow plank was thrown loosely +across at the point where the path traversed this stream, and when +Anne reached it she at once scampered over. At the other side she +turned her head to gather the probabilities of the situation, which +were that Festus Derriman would overtake her even now. By a sudden +forethought she stooped, seized the end of the plank, and +endeavoured to drag it away from the opposite bank. But the weight +was too great for her to do more than slightly move it, and with a +desperate sigh she ran on again, having lost many valuable seconds. + +But her attempt, though ineffectual in dragging it down, had been +enough to unsettle the little bridge; and when Derriman reached the +middle, which he did half a minute later, the plank turned over on +its edge, tilting him bodily into the river. The water was not +remarkably deep, but as the yeoman fell flat on his stomach he was +completely immersed; and it was some time before he could drag +himself out. When he arose, dripping on the bank, and looked +around, Anne had vanished from the mead. Then Festus's eyes glowed +like carbuncles, and he gave voice to fearful imprecations, shaking +his fist in the soft summer air towards Anne, in a way that was +terrible for any maiden to behold. Wading back through the stream, +he walked along its bank with a heavy tread, the water running from +his coat-tails, wrists, and the tips of his ears, in silvery +dribbles, that sparkled pleasantly in the sun. Thus he hastened +away, and went round by a by-path to the hall. + +Meanwhile the author of his troubles was rapidly drawing nearer to +the mill, and soon, to her inexpressible delight, she saw Bob coming +to meet her. She had heard the flounce, and, feeling more secure +from her pursuer, had dropped her pace to a quick walk. No sooner +did she reach Bob than, overcome by the excitement of the moment, +she flung herself into his arms. Bob instantly enclosed her in an +embrace so very thorough that there was no possible danger of her +falling, whatever degree of exhaustion might have given rise to her +somewhat unexpected action; and in this attitude they silently +remained, till it was borne in upon Anne that the present was the +first time in her life that she had ever been in such a position. +Her face then burnt like a sunset, and she did not know how to look +up at him. Feeling at length quite safe, she suddenly resolved not +to give way to her first impulse to tell him the whole of what had +happened, lest there should be a dreadful quarrel and fight between +Bob and the yeoman, and great difficulties caused in the Loveday +family on her account, the miller having important wheat +transactions with the Derrimans. + +'You seem frightened, dearest Anne,' said Bob tenderly. + +'Yes,' she replied. 'I saw a man I did not like the look of, and he +was inclined to follow me. But, worse than that, I am troubled +about the French. O Bob! I am afraid you will be killed, and my +mother, and John, and your father, and all of us hunted down!' + +'Now I have told you, dear little heart, that it cannot be. We +shall drive 'em into the sea after a battle or two, even if they +land, which I don't believe they will. We've got ninety sail of the +line, and though it is rather unfortunate that we should have +declared war against Spain at this ticklish time, there's enough for +all.' And Bob went into elaborate statistics of the navy, army, +militia, and volunteers, to prolong the time of holding her. When +he had done speaking he drew rather a heavy sigh. + +'What's the matter, Bob?' + +'I haven't been yet to offer myself as a sea-fencible, and I ought +to have done it long ago.' + +'You are only one. Surely they can do without you?' + +Bob shook his head. She arose from her restful position, her eye +catching his with a shamefaced expression of having given way at +last. Loveday drew from his pocket a paper, and said, as they +slowly walked on, 'Here's something to make us brave and patriotic. +I bought it in Budmouth. Isn't it a stirring picture?' + +It was a hieroglyphic profile of Napoleon. The hat represented a +maimed French eagle; the face was ingeniously made up of human +carcases, knotted and writhing together in such directions as to +form a physiognomy; a band, or stock, shaped to resemble the English +Channel, encircled his throat, and seemed to choke him; his +epaulette was a hand tearing a cobweb that represented the treaty of +peace with England; and his ear was a woman crouching over a dying +child. * + +* Vide Preface. + +'It is dreadful!' said Anne. 'I don't like to see it.' + +She had recovered from her emotion, and walked along beside him with +a grave, subdued face. Bob did not like to assume the privileges of +an accepted lover and draw her hand through his arm; for, conscious +that she naturally belonged to a politer grade than his own, he +feared lest her exhibition of tenderness were an impulse which +cooler moments might regret. A perfect Paul-and-Virginia life had +not absolutely set in for him as yet, and it was not to be hastened +by force. When they had passed over the bridge into the mill-front +they saw the miller standing at the door with a face of concern. + +'Since you have been gone,' he said, 'a Government man has been +here, and to all the houses, taking down the numbers of the women +and children, and their ages and the number of horses and waggons +that can be mustered, in case they have to retreat inland, out of +the way of the invading army.' + +The little family gathered themselves together, all feeling the +crisis more seriously than they liked to express. Mrs. Loveday +thought how ridiculous a thing social ambition was in such a +conjuncture as this, and vowed that she would leave Anne to love +where she would. Anne, too, forgot the little peculiarities of +speech and manner in Bob and his father, which sometimes jarred for +a moment upon her more refined sense, and was thankful for their +love and protection in this looming trouble. + +On going upstairs she remembered the paper which Farmer Derriman had +given her, and searched in her bosom for it. She could not find it +there. 'I must have left it on the table,' she said to herself. It +did not matter; she remembered every word. She took a pen and wrote +a duplicate, which she put safely away. + +But Anne was wrong. She had, after all, placed the paper where she +supposed, and there it ought to have been. But in escaping from +Festus, when he feigned apoplexy, it had fallen out upon the grass. +Five minutes after that event, when pursuer and pursued were two or +three fields ahead, the gaily-dressed woman whom the yeoman had +overtaken, peeped cautiously through the stile into the corner of +the field which had been the scene of the scramble; and seeing the +paper she climbed over, secured it, loosened the wafer without +tearing the sheet, and read the memorandum within. Unable to make +anything of its meaning, the saunterer put it in her pocket, and, +dismissing the matter from her mind, went on by the by-path which +led to the back of the mill. Here, behind the hedge, she stood and +surveyed the old building for some time, after which she +meditatively turned, and retraced her steps towards the Royal +watering-place. + + + +XXVI. THE ALARM + +The night which followed was historic and memorable. Mrs. Loveday +was awakened by the boom of a distant gun: she told the miller, and +they listened awhile. The sound was not repeated, but such was the +state of their feelings that Mr. Loveday went to Bob's room and +asked if he had heard it. Bob was wide awake, looking out of the +window; he had heard the ominous sound, and was inclined to +investigate the matter. While the father and son were dressing they +fancied that a glare seemed to be rising in the sky in the direction +of the beacon hill. Not wishing to alarm Anne and her mother, the +miller assured them that Bob and himself were merely going out of +doors to inquire into the cause of the report, after which they +plunged into the gloom together. A few steps' progress opened up +more of the sky, which, as they had thought, was indeed irradiated +by a lurid light; but whether it came from the beacon or from a more +distant point they were unable to clearly tell. They pushed on +rapidly towards higher ground. + +Their excitement was merely of a piece with that of all men at this +critical juncture. Everywhere expectation was at fever heat. For +the last year or two only five-and-twenty miles of shallow water had +divided quiet English homesteads from an enemy's army of a hundred +and fifty thousand men. We had taken the matter lightly enough, +eating and drinking as in the days of Noe, and singing satires +without end. We punned on Buonaparte and his gunboats, chalked his +effigy on stage-coaches, and published the same in prints. Still, +between these bursts of hilarity, it was sometimes recollected that +England was the only European country which had not succumbed to the +mighty little man who was less than human in feeling, and more than +human in will; that our spirit for resistance was greater than our +strength; and that the Channel was often calm. Boats built of wood +which was greenly growing in its native forest three days before it +was bent as wales to their sides, were ridiculous enough; but they +might be, after all, sufficient for a single trip between two +visible shores. + +The English watched Buonaparte in these preparations, and Buonaparte +watched the English. At the distance of Boulogne details were lost, +but we were impressed on fine days by the novel sight of a huge army +moving and twinkling like a school of mackerel under the rays of the +sun. The regular way of passing an afternoon in the coast towns was +to stroll up to the signal posts and chat with the lieutenant on +duty there about the latest inimical object seen at sea. About once +a week there appeared in the newspapers either a paragraph +concerning some adventurous English gentleman who had sailed out in +a pleasure-boat till he lay near enough to Boulogne to see +Buonaparte standing on the heights among his marshals; or else some +lines about a mysterious stranger with a foreign accent, who, after +collecting a vast deal of information on our resources, had hired a +boat at a southern port, and vanished with it towards France before +his intention could be divined. + +In forecasting his grand venture, Buonaparte postulated the help of +Providence to a remarkable degree. Just at the hour when his troops +were on board the flat-bottomed boats and ready to sail, there was +to be a great fog, that should spread a vast obscurity over the +length and breadth of the Channel, and keep the English blind to +events on the other side. The fog was to last twenty-four hours, +after which it might clear away. A dead calm was to prevail +simultaneously with the fog, with the twofold object of affording +the boats easy transit and dooming our ships to lie motionless. +Thirdly, there was to be a spring tide, which should combine its +manoeuvres with those of the fog and calm. + +Among the many thousands of minor Englishmen whose lives were +affected by these tremendous designs may be numbered our old +acquaintance Corporal Tullidge, who sported the crushed arm, and +poor old Simon Burden, the dazed veteran who had fought at Minden. +Instead of sitting snugly in the settle of the Old Ship, in the +village adjoining Overcombe, they were obliged to keep watch on the +hill. They made themselves as comfortable as was possible in the +circumstances, dwelling in a hut of clods and turf, with a brick +chimney for cooking. Here they observed the nightly progress of the +moon and stars, grew familiar with the heaving of moles, the dancing +of rabbits on the hillocks, the distant hoot of owls, the bark of +foxes from woods further inland; but saw not a sign of the enemy. +As, night after night, they walked round the two ricks which it was +their duty to fire at a signal--one being of furze for a quick +flame, the other of turf, for a long, slow radiance--they thought +and talked of old times, and drank patriotically from a large wood +flagon that was filled every day. + +Bob and his father soon became aware that the light was from the +beacon. By the time that they reached the top it was one mass of +towering flame, from which the sparks fell on the green herbage like +a fiery dew; the forms of the two old men being seen passing and +repassing in the midst of it. The Lovedays, who came up on the +smoky side, regarded the scene for a moment, and then emerged into +the light. + +'Who goes there?' said Corporal Tullidge, shouldering a pike with +his sound arm. 'O, 'tis neighbour Loveday!' + +'Did you get your signal to fire it from the east?' said the miller +hastily. + +'No; from Abbotsea Beach.' + +'But you are not to go by a coast signal!' + +'Chok' it all, wasn't the Lord-Lieutenant's direction, whenever you +see Rainbarrow's Beacon burn to the nor'east'ard, or Haggardon to +the nor'west'ard, or the actual presence of the enemy on the shore?' + +'But is he here?' + +'No doubt o't! The beach light is only just gone down, and Simon +heard the guns even better than I.' + +'Hark, hark! I hear 'em!' said Bob. + +They listened with parted lips, the night wind blowing through Simon +Burden's few teeth as through the ruins of Stonehenge. From far +down on the lower levels came the noise of wheels and the tramp of +horses upon the turnpike road. + +'Well, there must be something in it,' said Miller Loveday gravely. +'Bob, we'll go home and make the women-folk safe, and then I'll don +my soldier's clothes and be off. God knows where our company will +assemble!' + +They hastened down the hill, and on getting into the road waited and +listened again. Travellers began to come up and pass them in +vehicles of all descriptions. It was difficult to attract their +attention in the dim light, but by standing on the top of a wall +which fenced the road Bob was at last seen. + +'What's the matter?' he cried to a butcher who was flying past in +his cart, his wife sitting behind him without a bonnet. + +'The French have landed!' said the man, without drawing rein. + +'Where?' shouted Bob. + +'In West Bay; and all Budmouth is in uproar!' replied the voice, now +faint in the distance. + +Bob and his father hastened on till they reached their own house. +As they had expected, Anne and her mother, in common with most of +the people, were both dressed, and stood at the door bonneted and +shawled, listening to the traffic on the neighbouring highway, Mrs. +Loveday having secured what money and small valuables they possessed +in a huge pocket which extended all round her waist, and added +considerably to her weight and diameter. + +''Tis true enough,' said the miller: 'he's come! You and Anne and +the maid must be off to Cousin Jim's at King's-Bere, and when you +get there you must do as they do. I must assemble with the +company.' + +'And I?' said Bob. + +'Thou'st better run to the church, and take a pike before they be +all gone.' + +The horse was put into the gig, and Mrs. Loveday, Anne, and the +servant-maid were hastily packed into the vehicle, the latter taking +the reins; David's duties as a fighting-man forbidding all thought +of his domestic offices now. Then the silver tankard, teapot, pair +of candlesticks like Ionic columns, and other articles too large to +be pocketed were thrown into a basket and put up behind. Then came +the leave-taking, which was as sad as it was hurried. Bob kissed +Anne, and there was no affectation in her receiving that mark of +affection as she said through her tears, 'God bless you!' At last +they moved off in the dim light of dawn, neither of the three women +knowing which road they were to take, but trusting to chance to find +it. + +As soon as they were out of sight Bob went off for a pike, and his +father, first new-flinting his firelock, proceeded to don his +uniform, pipe-claying his breeches with such cursory haste as to +bespatter his black gaiters with the same ornamental compound. +Finding when he was ready that no bugle had as yet sounded, he went +with David to the cart-house, dragged out the waggon, and put +therein some of the most useful and easily-handled goods, in case +there might be an opportunity for conveying them away. By the time +this was done and the waggon pushed back and locked in, Bob had +returned with his weapon, somewhat mortified at being doomed to this +low form of defence. The miller gave his son a parting grasp of the +hand, and arranged to meet him at King's-Bere at the first +opportunity if the news were true; if happily false, here at their +own house. + +'Bother it all!' he exclaimed, looking at his stock of flints. + +'What?' said Bob. + +'I've got no ammunition: not a blessed round!' + +'Then what's the use of going?' asked his son. + +The miller paused. 'O, I'll go,' he said. 'Perhaps somebody will +lend me a little if I get into a hot corner?' + +'Lend ye a little! Father, you was always so simple!' said Bob +reproachfully. + +'Well--I can bagnet a few, anyhow,' said the miller. + +The bugle had been blown ere this, and Loveday the father +disappeared towards the place of assembly, his empty cartridge-box +behind him. Bob seized a brace of loaded pistols which he had +brought home from the ship, and, armed with these and a pike, he +locked the door and sallied out again towards the turnpike road. + +By this time the yeomanry of the district were also on the move, and +among them Festus Derriman, who was sleeping at his uncle's, and had +been awakened by Cripplestraw. About the time when Bob and his +father were descending from the beacon the stalwart yeoman was +standing in the stable-yard adjusting his straps, while Cripplestraw +saddled the horse. Festus clanked up and down, looked gloomily at +the beacon, heard the retreating carts and carriages, and called +Cripplestraw to him, who came from the stable leading the horse at +the same moment that Uncle Benjy peeped unobserved from a mullioned +window above their heads, the distant light of the beacon fire +touching up his features to the complexion of an old brass +clock-face. + +'I think that before I start, Cripplestraw,' said Festus, whose +lurid visage was undergoing a bleaching process curious to look +upon, 'you shall go on to Budmouth, and make a bold inquiry whether +the cowardly enemy is on shore as yet, or only looming in the bay.' + +'I'd go in a moment, sir,' said the other, 'if I hadn't my bad leg +again. I should have joined my company afore this; but they said at +last drill that I was too old. So I shall wait up in the hay-loft +for tidings as soon as I have packed you off, poor gentleman!' + +'Do such alarms as these, Cripplestraw, ever happen without +foundation? Buonaparte is a wretch, a miserable wretch, and this +may be only a false alarm to disappoint such as me?' + +'O no, sir; O no!' + +'But sometimes there are false alarms?' + +'Well, sir, yes. There was a pretended sally o' gunboats last +year.' + +'And was there nothing else pretended--something more like this, for +instance?' + +Cripplestraw shook his head. 'I notice yer modesty, Mr. Festus, in +making light of things. But there never was, sir. You may depend +upon it he's come. Thank God, my duty as a Local don't require me +to go to the front, but only the valiant men like my master. Ah, if +Boney could only see 'ee now, sir, he'd know too well there is +nothing to be got from such a determined skilful officer but blows +and musket-balls!' + +'Yes, yes. Cripplestraw, if I ride off to Budmouth and meet 'em, +all my training will be lost. No skill is required as a forlorn +hope.' + +'True; that's a point, sir. You would outshine 'em all, and be +picked off at the very beginning as a too-dangerous brave man.' + +'But if I stay here and urge on the faint-hearted ones, or get up +into the turret-stair by that gateway, and pop at the invaders +through the loophole, I shouldn't be so completely wasted, should +I?' + +'You would not, Mr. Derriman. But, as you was going to say next, +the fire in yer veins won't let ye do that. You are valiant; very +good: you don't want to husband yer valiance at home. The arg'ment +is plain.' + +'If my birth had been more obscure,' murmured the yeoman, 'and I had +only been in the militia, for instance, or among the humble pikemen, +so much wouldn't have been expected of me--of my fiery nature. +Cripplestraw, is there a drop of brandy to be got at in the house? +I don't feel very well.' + +'Dear nephew,' said the old gentleman from above, whom neither of +the others had as yet noticed, 'I haven't any spirits opened--so +unfortunate! But there's a beautiful barrel of crab-apple cider in +draught; and there's some cold tea from last night.' + +'What, is he listening?' said Festus, staring up. 'Now I warrant +how glad he is to see me forced to go--called out of bed without +breakfast, and he quite safe, and sure to escape because he's an old +man!--Cripplestraw, I like being in the yeomanry cavalry; but I wish +I hadn't been in the ranks; I wish I had been only the surgeon, to +stay in the rear while the bodies are brought back to him--I mean, I +should have thrown my heart at such a time as this more into the +labour of restoring wounded men and joining their shattered limbs +together--u-u-ugh!--more than I can into causing the wounds--I am +too humane, Cripplestraw, for the ranks!' + +'Yes, yes,' said his companion, depressing his spirits to a kindred +level. 'And yet, such is fate, that, instead of joining men's limbs +together, you'll have to get your own joined--poor young sojer!--all +through having such a warlike soul.' + +'Yes,' murmured Festus, and paused. 'You can't think how strange I +feel here, Cripplestraw,' he continued, laying his hand upon the +centre buttons of his waistcoat. 'How I do wish I was only the +surgeon!' + +He slowly mounted, and Uncle Benjy, in the meantime, sang to himself +as he looked on, 'TWEN-TY-THREE AND HALF FROM N.W. SIX-TEEN AND +THREE-QUAR-TERS FROM N.E.' + +'What's that old mummy singing?' said Festus savagely. + +'Only a hymn for preservation from our enemies, dear nephew,' meekly +replied the farmer, who had heard the remark. 'TWEN-TY-THREE AND +HALF FROM N.W.' + +Festus allowed his horse to move on a few paces, and then turned +again, as if struck by a happy invention. 'Cripplestraw,' he began, +with an artificial laugh, 'I am obliged to confess, after all--I +must see her! 'Tisn't nature that makes me draw back--'tis love. I +must go and look for her.' + +'A woman, sir?' + +'I didn't want to confess it; but 'tis a woman. Strange that I +should be drawn so entirely against my natural wish to rush at 'em!' + +Cripplestraw, seeing which way the wind blew, found it advisable to +blow in harmony. 'Ah, now at last I see, sir! Spite that few men +live that be worthy to command ye; spite that you could rush on, +marshal the troops to victory, as I may say; but then--what of it? +there's the unhappy fate of being smit with the eyes of a woman, and +you are unmanned! Maister Derriman, who is himself, when he's got a +woman round his neck like a millstone?' + +'It is something like that.' + +'I feel the case. Be you valiant?--I know, of course, the words +being a matter of form--be you valiant, I ask? Yes, of course. +Then don't you waste it in the open field. Hoard it up, I say, sir, +for a higher class of war--the defence of yer adorable lady. Think +what you owe her at this terrible time! Now, Maister Derriman, once +more I ask ye to cast off that first haughty wish to rush to +Budmouth, and to go where your mis'ess is defenceless and alone.' + +'I will, Cripplestraw, now you put it like that!' + +'Thank ye, thank ye heartily, Maister Derriman. Go now and hide +with her.' + +'But can I? Now, hang flattery!--can a man hide without a stain? +Of course I would not hide in any mean sense; no, not I!' + +'If you be in love, 'tis plain you may, since it is not your own +life, but another's, that you are concerned for, and you only save +your own because it can't be helped.' + +''Tis true, Cripplestraw, in a sense. But will it be understood +that way? Will they see it as a brave hiding?' + +'Now, sir, if you had not been in love I own to ye that hiding would +look queer, but being to save the tears, groans, fits, swowndings, +and perhaps death of a comely young woman, yer principle is good; +you honourably retreat because you be too gallant to advance. This +sounds strange, ye may say, sir; but it is plain enough to less +fiery minds.' + +Festus did for a moment try to uncover his teeth in a natural smile, +but it died away. 'Cripplestraw, you flatter me; or do you mean it? +Well, there's truth in it. I am more gallant in going to her than +in marching to the shore. But we cannot be too careful about our +good names, we soldiers. I must not be seen. I'm off.' + +Cripplestraw opened the hurdle which closed the arch under the +portico gateway, and Festus passed under, Uncle Benjamin singing, +TWEN-TY-THREE AND A HALF FROM N.W. with a sort of sublime ecstasy, +feeling, as Festus had observed, that his money was safe, and that +the French would not personally molest an old man in such a ragged, +mildewed coat as that he wore, which he had taken the precaution to +borrow from a scarecrow in one of his fields for the purpose. + +Festus rode on full of his intention to seek out Anne, and under +cover of protecting her retreat accompany her to King's-Bere, where +he knew the Lovedays had relatives. In the lane he met Granny +Seamore, who, having packed up all her possessions in a small +basket, was placidly retreating to the mountains till all should be +over. + +'Well, granny, have ye seen the French?' asked Festus. + +'No,' she said, looking up at him through her brazen spectacles. +'If I had I shouldn't ha' seed thee!' + +'Faugh!' replied the yeoman, and rode on. Just as he reached the +old road, which he had intended merely to cross and avoid, his +countenance fell. Some troops of regulars, who appeared to be +dragoons, were rattling along the road. Festus hastened towards an +opposite gate, so as to get within the field before they should see +him; but, as ill-luck would have it, as soon as he got inside, a +party of six or seven of his own yeomanry troop were straggling +across the same field and making for the spot where he was. The +dragoons passed without seeing him; but when he turned out into the +road again it was impossible to retreat towards Overcombe village +because of the yeomen. So he rode straight on, and heard them +coming at his heels. There was no other gate, and the highway soon +became as straight as a bowstring. Unable thus to turn without +meeting them, and caught like an eel in a water-pipe, Festus drew +nearer and nearer to the fateful shore. But he did not relinquish +hope. Just ahead there were cross-roads, and he might have a chance +of slipping down one of them without being seen. On reaching the +spot he found that he was not alone. A horseman had come up the +right-hand lane and drawn rein. It was an officer of the German +legion, and seeing Festus he held up his hand. Festus rode up to +him and saluted. + +'It ist false report!' said the officer. + +Festus was a man again. He felt that nothing was too much for him. +The officer, after some explanation of the cause of alarm, said that +he was going across to the road which led by the moor, to stop the +troops and volunteers converging from that direction, upon which +Festus offered to give information along the Casterbridge road. The +German crossed over, and was soon out of sight in the lane, while +Festus turned back upon the way by which he had come. The party of +yeomanry cavalry was rapidly drawing near, and he soon recognized +among them the excited voices of Stubb of Duddle Hole, Noakes of +Muckleford, and other comrades of his orgies at the hall. It was a +magnificent opportunity, and Festus drew his sword. When they were +within speaking distance he reined round his charger's head to +Budmouth and shouted, 'On, comrades, on! I am waiting for you. You +have been a long time getting up with me, seeing the glorious nature +of our deeds to-day!' + +'Well said, Derriman, well said!' replied the foremost of the +riders. 'Have you heard anything new?' + +'Only that he's here with his tens of thousands, and that we are to +ride to meet him sword in hand as soon as we have assembled in the +town ahead here.' + +'O Lord!' said Noakes, with a slight falling of the lower jaw. + +'The man who quails now is unworthy of the name of yeoman,' said +Festus, still keeping ahead of the other troopers and holding up his +sword to the sun. 'O Noakes, fie, fie! You begin to look pale, +man.' + +'Faith, perhaps you'd look pale,' said Noakes, with an envious +glance upon Festus's daring manner, 'if you had a wife and family +depending upon ye!' + +'I'll take three frog-eating Frenchmen single-handed!' rejoined +Derriman, still flourishing his sword. + +'They have as good swords as you; as you will soon find,' said +another of the yeomen. + +'If they were three times armed,' said Festus--'ay, thrice three +times--I would attempt 'em three to one. How do you feel now, my +old friend Stubb?' (turning to another of the warriors.) 'O, friend +Stubb! no bouncing health to our lady-loves in Oxwell Hall this +summer as last. Eh, Brownjohn?' + +'I am afraid not,' said Brownjohn gloomily. + +'No rattling dinners at Stacie's Hotel, and the King below with his +staff. No wrenching off door-knockers and sending 'em to the +bakehouse in a pie that nobody calls for. Weeks of cut-and-thrust +work rather!' + +'I suppose so.' + +'Fight how we may we shan't get rid of the cursed tyrant before +autumn, and many thousand brave men will lie low before it's done,' +remarked a young yeoman with a calm face, who meant to do his duty +without much talking. + +'No grinning matches at Mai-dun Castle this summer,' Festus resumed; +'no thread-the-needle at Greenhill Fair, and going into shows and +driving the showman crazy with cock-a-doodle-doo!' + +'I suppose not.' + +'Does it make you seem just a trifle uncomfortable, Noakes? Keep up +your spirits, old comrade. Come, forward! we are only ambling on +like so many donkey-women. We have to get into Budmouth, join the +rest of the troop, and then march along the coast west'ard, as I +imagine. At this rate we shan't be well into the thick of battle +before twelve o'clock. Spur on, comrades. No dancing on the green, +Lockham, this year in the moonlight! You was tender upon that girl; +gad, what will become o' her in the struggle?' + +'Come, come, Derriman,' expostulated Lockham--'this is all very +well, but I don't care for 't. I am as ready to fight as any man, +but--' + +'Perhaps when you get into battle, Derriman, and see what it's like, +your courage will cool down a little,' added Noakes on the same +side, but with secret admiration of Festus's reckless bravery. + +'I shall be bayoneted first,' said Festus. 'Now let's rally, and +on!' + +Since Festus was determined to spur on wildly, the rest of the +yeomen did not like to seem behindhand, and they rapidly approached +the town. Had they been calm enough to reflect, they might have +observed that for the last half-hour no carts or carriages had met +them on the way, as they had done further back. It was not till the +troopers reached the turnpike that they learnt what Festus had known +a quarter of an hour before. At the intelligence Derriman sheathed +his sword with a sigh; and the party soon fell in with comrades who +had arrived there before them, whereupon the source and details of +the alarm were boisterously discussed. + +'What, didn't you know of the mistake till now?' asked one of these +of the new-comers. 'Why, when I was dropping over the hill by the +cross-roads I looked back and saw that man talking to the messenger, +and he must have told him the truth.' The speaker pointed to +Festus. They turned their indignant eyes full upon him. That he +had sported with their deepest feelings, while knowing the rumour to +be baseless, was soon apparent to all. + +'Beat him black and blue with the flat of our blades!' shouted two +or three, turning their horses' heads to drop back upon Derriman, in +which move they were followed by most of the party. + +But Festus, foreseeing danger from the unexpected revelation, had +already judiciously placed a few intervening yards between himself +and his fellow-yeomen, and now, clapping spurs to his horse, rattled +like thunder and lightning up the road homeward. His ready flight +added hotness to their pursuit, and as he rode and looked fearfully +over his shoulder he could see them following with enraged faces and +drawn swords, a position which they kept up for a distance of more +than a mile. Then he had the satisfaction of seeing them drop off +one by one, and soon he and his panting charger remained alone on +the highway. + + + +XXVII. DANGER TO ANNE + +He stopped and reflected how to turn this rebuff to advantage. +Baulked in his project of entering the watering-place and enjoying +congratulations upon his patriotic bearing during the advance, he +sulkily considered that he might be able to make some use of his +enforced retirement by riding to Overcombe and glorifying himself in +the eyes of Miss Garland before the truth should have reached that +hamlet. Having thus decided he spurred on in a better mood. + +By this time the volunteers were on the march, and as Derriman +ascended the road he met the Overcombe company, in which trudged +Miller Loveday shoulder to shoulder with the other substantial +householders of the place and its neighbourhood, duly equipped with +pouches, cross-belts, firelocks, flint-boxes, pickers, worms, +magazines, priming-horns, heel-ball, and pomatum. There was nothing +to be gained by further suppression of the truth, and briefly +informing them that the danger was not so immediate as had been +supposed, Festus galloped on. At the end of another mile he met a +large number of pikemen, including Bob Loveday, whom the yeoman +resolved to sound upon the whereabouts of Anne. The circumstances +were such as to lead Bob to speak more frankly than he might have +done on reflection, and he told Festus the direction in which the +women had been sent. Then Festus informed the group that the report +of invasion was false, upon which they all turned to go homeward +with greatly relieved spirits. + +Bob walked beside Derriman's horse for some distance. Loveday had +instantly made up his mind to go and look for the women, and ease +their anxiety by letting them know the good news as soon as +possible. But he said nothing of this to Festus during their return +together; nor did Festus tell Bob that he also had resolved to seek +them out, and by anticipating every one else in that enterprise, +make of it a glorious opportunity for bringing Miss Garland to her +senses about him. He still resented the ducking that he had +received at her hands, and was not disposed to let that insult pass +without obtaining some sort of sweet revenge. + +As soon as they had parted Festus cantered on over the hill, meeting +on his way the Longpuddle volunteers, sixty rank and file, under +Captain Cunningham; the Casterbridge company, ninety strong (known +as the 'Consideration Company' in those days), under Captain +Strickland; and others--all with anxious faces and covered with +dust. Just passing the word to them and leaving them at halt, he +proceeded rapidly onward in the direction of King's-Bere. Nobody +appeared on the road for some time, till after a ride of several +miles he met a stray corporal of volunteers, who told Festus in +answer to his inquiry that he had certainly passed no gig full of +women of the kind described. Believing that he had missed them by +following the highway, Derriman turned back into a lane along which +they might have chosen to journey for privacy's sake, +notwithstanding the badness and uncertainty of its track. Arriving +again within five miles of Overcombe, he at length heard tidings of +the wandering vehicle and its precious burden, which, like the Ark +when sent away from the country of the Philistines, had apparently +been left to the instincts of the beast that drew it. A labouring +man, just at daybreak, had seen the helpless party going slowly up a +distant drive, which he pointed out. + +No sooner had Festus parted from this informant than he beheld Bob +approaching, mounted on the miller's second and heavier horse. Bob +looked rather surprised, and Festus felt his coming glory in danger. + +'They went down that lane,' he said, signifying precisely the +opposite direction to the true one. 'I, too, have been on the +look-out for missing friends.' + +As Festus was riding back there was no reason to doubt his +information, and Loveday rode on as misdirected. Immediately that +he was out of sight Festus reversed his course, and followed the +track which Anne and her companions were last seen to pursue. + +This road had been ascended by the gig in question nearly two hours +before the present moment. Molly, the servant, held the reins, Mrs. +Loveday sat beside her, and Anne behind. Their progress was but +slow, owing partly to Molly's want of skill, and partly to the +steepness of the road, which here passed over downs of some extent, +and was rarely or never mended. It was an anxious morning for them +all, and the beauties of the early summer day fell upon unheeding +eyes. They were too anxious even for conjecture, and each sat +thinking her own thoughts, occasionally glancing westward, or +stopping the horse to listen to sounds from more frequented roads +along which other parties were retreating. Once, while they +listened and gazed thus, they saw a glittering in the distance, and +heard the tramp of many horses. It was a large body of cavalry +going in the direction of the King's watering-place, the same +regiment of dragoons, in fact, which Festus had seen further on in +its course. The women in the gig had no doubt that these men were +marching at once to engage the enemy. By way of varying the +monotony of the journey Molly occasionally burst into tears of +horror, believing Buonaparte to be in countenance and habits +precisely what the caricatures represented him. Mrs. Loveday +endeavoured to establish cheerfulness by assuring her companions of +the natural civility of the French nation, with whom unprotected +women were safe from injury, unless through the casual excesses of +soldiery beyond control. This was poor consolation to Anne, whose +mind was more occupied with Bob than with herself, and a miserable +fear that she would never again see him alive so paled her face and +saddened her gaze forward, that at last her mother said, 'Who was +you thinking of, my dear?' Anne's only reply was a look at her +mother, with which a tear mingled. + +Molly whipped the horse, by which she quickened his pace for five +yards, when he again fell into the perverse slowness that showed how +fully conscious he was of being the master-mind and chief personage +of the four. Whenever there was a pool of water by the road he +turned aside to drink a mouthful, and remained there his own time in +spite of Molly's tug at the reins and futile fly-flapping on his +rump. They were now in the chalk district, where there were no +hedges, and a rough attempt at mending the way had been made by +throwing down huge lumps of that glaring material in heaps, without +troubling to spread it or break them abroad. The jolting here was +most distressing, and seemed about to snap the springs. + +'How that wheel do wamble,' said Molly at last. She had scarcely +spoken when the wheel came off, and all three were precipitated over +it into the road. + +Fortunately the horse stood still, and they began to gather +themselves up. The only one of the three who had suffered in the +least from the fall was Anne, and she was only conscious of a severe +shaking which had half stupefied her for the time. The wheel lay +flat in the road, so that there was no possibility of driving +further in their present plight. They looked around for help. The +only friendly object near was a lonely cottage, from its situation +evidently the home of a shepherd. + +The horse was unharnessed and tied to the back of the gig, and the +three women went across to the house. On getting close they found +that the shutters of all the lower windows were closed, but on +trying the door it opened to the hand. Nobody was within; the house +appeared to have been abandoned in some confusion, and the +probability was that the shepherd had fled on hearing the alarm. +Anne now said that she felt the effects of her fall too severely to +be able to go any further just then, and it was agreed that she +should be left there while Mrs. Loveday and Molly went on for +assistance, the elder lady deeming Molly too young and vacant-minded +to be trusted to go alone. Molly suggested taking the horse, as the +distance might be great, each of them sitting alternately on his +back while the other led him by the head. This they did, Anne +watching them vanish down the white and lumpy road. + +She then looked round the room, as well as she could do so by the +light from the open door. It was plain, from the shutters being +closed, that the shepherd had left his house before daylight, the +candle and extinguisher on the table pointing to the same +conclusion. Here she remained, her eyes occasionally sweeping the +bare, sunny expanse of down, that was only relieved from absolute +emptiness by the overturned gig hard by. The sheep seemed to have +gone away, and scarcely a bird flew across to disturb the solitude. +Anne had risen early that morning, and leaning back in the withy +chair, which she had placed by the door, she soon fell into an +uneasy doze, from which she was awakened by the distant tramp of a +horse. Feeling much recovered from the effects of the overturn, she +eagerly rose and looked out. The horse was not Miller Loveday's, +but a powerful bay, bearing a man in full yeomanry uniform. + +Anne did not wait to recognize further; instantly re-entering the +house, she shut the door and bolted it. In the dark she sat and +listened: not a sound. At the end of ten minutes, thinking that +the rider if he were not Festus had carelessly passed by, or that if +he were Festus he had not seen her, she crept softly upstairs and +peeped out of the window. Excepting the spot of shade, formed by +the gig as before, the down was quite bare. She then opened the +casement and stretched out her neck. + +'Ha, young madam! There you are! I knew 'ee! Now you are caught!' +came like a clap of thunder from a point three or four feet beneath +her, and turning down her frightened eyes she beheld Festus Derriman +lurking close to the wall. His attention had first been attracted +by her shutting the door of the cottage; then by the overturned gig; +and after making sure, by examining the vehicle, that he was not +mistaken in her identity, he had dismounted, led his horse round to +the side, and crept up to entrap her. + +Anne started back into the room, and remained still as a stone. +Festus went on--'Come, you must trust to me. The French have +landed. I have been trying to meet with you every hour since that +confounded trick you played me. You threw me into the water. +Faith, it was well for you I didn't catch ye then! I should have +taken a revenge in a better way than I shall now. I mean to have +that kiss of ye. Come, Miss Nancy; do you hear?--'Tis no use for +you to lurk inside there. You'll have to turn out as soon as Boney +comes over the hill--Are you going to open the door, I say, and +speak to me in a civil way? What do you think I am, then, that you +should barricade yourself against me as if I was a wild beast or +Frenchman? Open the door, or put out your head, or do something; or +'pon my soul I'll break in the door!' + +It occurred to Anne at this point of the tirade that the best policy +would be to temporize till somebody should return, and she put out +her head and face, now grown somewhat pale. + +'That's better,' said Festus. 'Now I can talk to you. Come, my +dear, will you open the door? Why should you be afraid of me?' + +'I am not altogether afraid of you; I am safe from the French here,' +said Anne, not very truthfully, and anxiously casting her eyes over +the vacant down. + +'Then let me tell you that the alarm is false, and that no landing +has been attempted. Now will you open the door and let me in? I am +tired. I have been on horseback ever since daylight, and have come +to bring you the good tidings.' + +Anne looked as if she doubted the news. + +'Come,' said Festus. + +'No, I cannot let you in,' she murmured, after a pause. + +'Dash my wig, then,' he cried, his face flaming up, 'I'll find a way +to get in! Now, don't you provoke me! You don't know what I am +capable of. I ask you again, will you open the door?' + +'Why do you wish it?' she said faintly. + +'I have told you I want to sit down; and I want to ask you a +question.' + +'You can ask me from where you are.' + +'I cannot ask you properly. It is about a serious matter: whether +you will accept my heart and hand. I am not going to throw myself +at your feet; but I ask you to do your duty as a woman, namely, give +your solemn word to take my name as soon as the war is over and I +have time to attend to you. I scorn to ask it of a haughty hussy +who will only speak to me through a window; however, I put it to you +for the last time, madam.' + +There was no sign on the down of anybody's return, and she said, +'I'll think of it, sir.' + +'You have thought of it long enough; I want to know. Will you or +won't you?' + +'Very well; I think I will.' And then she felt that she might be +buying personal safety too dearly by shuffling thus, since he would +spread the report that she had accepted him, and cause endless +complication. 'No,' she said, 'I have changed my mind. I cannot +accept you, Mr. Derriman.' + +'That's how you play with me!' he exclaimed, stamping. '"Yes," one +moment; "No," the next. Come, you don't know what you refuse. That +old hall is my uncle's own, and he has nobody else to leave it to. +As soon as he's dead I shall throw up farming and start as a squire. +And now,' he added with a bitter sneer, 'what a fool you are to hang +back from such a chance!' + +'Thank you, I don't value it,' said Anne. + +'Because you hate him who would make it yours?' + +'It may not lie in your power to do that.' + +'What--has the old fellow been telling you his affairs?' + +'No.' + +'Then why do you mistrust me? Now, after this will you open the +door, and show that you treat me as a friend if you won't accept me +as a lover? I only want to sit and talk to you.' + +Anne thought she would trust him; it seemed almost impossible that +he could harm her. She retired from the window and went downstairs. +When her hand was upon the bolt of the door, her mind misgave her. +Instead of withdrawing it she remained in silence where she was, and +he began again-- + +'Are you going to unfasten it?' + +Anne did not speak. + +'Now, dash my wig, I will get at you! You've tried me beyond +endurance. One kiss would have been enough that day in the mead; +now I'll have forty, whether you will or no!' + +He flung himself against the door; but as it was bolted, and had in +addition a great wooden bar across it, this produced no effect. He +was silent for a moment, and then the terrified girl heard him +attempt the shuttered window. She ran upstairs and again scanned +the down. The yellow gig still lay in the blazing sunshine, and the +horse of Festus stood by the corner of the garden--nothing else was +to be seen. At this moment there came to her ear the noise of a +sword drawn from its scabbard; and, peeping over the window-sill, +she saw her tormentor drive his sword between the joints of the +shutters, in an attempt to rip them open. The sword snapped off in +his hand. With an imprecation he pulled out the piece, and returned +the two halves to the scabbard. + +'Ha! ha!' he cried, catching sight of the top of her head. ''Tis +only a joke, you know; but I'll get in all the same. All for a +kiss! But never mind, we'll do it yet!' He spoke in an affectedly +light tone, as if ashamed of his previous resentful temper; but she +could see by the livid back of his neck that he was brimful of +suppressed passion. 'Only a jest, you know,' he went on. 'How are +we going to do it now? Why, in this way. I go and get a ladder, +and enter at the upper window where my love is. And there's the +ladder lying under that corn-rick in the first enclosed field. Back +in two minutes, dear!' + +He ran off, and was lost to her view. + + + +XXVIII. ANNE DOES WONDERS + +Anne fearfully surveyed her position. The upper windows of the +cottage were of flimsiest lead-work, and to keep him out would be +hopeless. She felt that not a moment was to be lost in getting +away. Running downstairs she opened the door, and then it occurred +to her terrified understanding that there would be no chance of +escaping him by flight afoot across such an extensive down, since he +might mount his horse and easily ride after her. The animal still +remained tethered at the corner of the garden; if she could release +him and frighten him away before Festus returned, there would not be +quite such odds against her. She accordingly unhooked the horse by +reaching over the bank, and then, pulling off her muslin +neckerchief, flapped it in his eyes to startle him. But the gallant +steed did not move or flinch; she tried again, and he seemed rather +pleased than otherwise. At this moment she heard a cry from the +cottage, and turning, beheld her adversary approaching round the +corner of the building. + +'I thought I should tole out the mouse by that trick!' cried Festus +exultingly. Instead of going for a ladder, he had simply hidden +himself at the back to tempt her down. + +Poor Anne was now desperate. The bank on which she stood was level +with the horse's back, and the creature seemed quiet as a lamb. +With a determination of which she was capable in emergencies, she +seized the rein, flung herself upon the sheepskin, and held on by +the mane. The amazed charger lifted his head, sniffed, wrenched his +ears hither and thither, and started off at a frightful speed across +the down. + +'O, my heart and limbs!' said Festus under his breath, as, +thoroughly alarmed, he gazed after her. 'She on Champion! She'll +break her neck, and I shall be tried for manslaughter, and disgrace +will be brought upon the name of Derriman!' + +Champion continued to go at a stretch-gallop, but he did nothing +worse. Had he plunged or reared, Derriman's fears might have been +verified, and Anne have come with deadly force to the ground. But +the course was good, and in the horse's speed lay a comparative +security. She was scarcely shaken in her precarious half-horizontal +position, though she was awed to see the grass, loose stones, and +other objects pass her eyes like strokes whenever she opened them, +which was only just for a second at intervals of half a minute; and +to feel how wildly the stirrups swung, and that what struck her knee +was the bucket of the carbine, and that it was a pistol-holster +which hurt her arm. + +They quickly cleared the down, and Anne became conscious that the +course of the horse was homeward. As soon as the ground began to +rise towards the outer belt of upland which lay between her and the +coast, Champion, now panting and reeking with moisture, lessened his +speed in sheer weariness, and proceeded at a rapid jolting trot. +Anne felt that she could not hold on half so well; the gallop had +been child's play compared with this. They were in a lane, +ascending to a ridge, and she made up her mind for a fall. Over the +ridge rose an animated spot, higher and higher; it turned out to be +the upper part of a man, and the man to be a soldier. Such was +Anne's attitude that she only got an occasional glimpse of him; and, +though she feared that he might be a Frenchman, she feared the horse +more than the enemy, as she had feared Festus more than the horse. +Anne had energy enough left to cry, 'Stop him; stop him!' as the +soldier drew near. + +He, astonished at the sight of a military horse with a bundle of +drapery across his back, had already placed himself in the middle of +the lane, and he now held out his arms till his figure assumed the +form of a Latin cross planted in the roadway. Champion drew near, +swerved, and stood still almost suddenly, a check sufficient to send +Anne slipping down his flank to the ground. The timely friend +stepped forward and helped her to her feet, when she saw that he was +John Loveday. + +'Are you hurt?' he said hastily, having turned quite pale at seeing +her fall. + +'O no; not a bit,' said Anne, gathering herself up with forced +briskness, to make light of the misadventure. + +'But how did you get in such a place?' + +'There, he's gone!' she exclaimed, instead of replying, as Champion +swept round John Loveday and cantered off triumphantly in the +direction of Oxwell, a performance which she followed with her eyes. + +'But how did you come upon his back, and whose horse is it?' + +'I will tell you.' + +'Well?' + +'I--cannot tell you.' + +John looked steadily at her, saying nothing. + +'How did you come here?' she asked. 'Is it true that the French +have not landed at all?' + +'Quite true; the alarm was groundless. I'll tell you all about it. +You look very tired. You had better sit down a few minutes. Let us +sit on this bank.' + +He helped her to the slope indicated, and continued, still as if his +thoughts were more occupied with the mystery of her recent situation +than with what he was saying: 'We arrived at Budmouth Barracks this +morning, and are to lie there all the summer. I could not write to +tell father we were coming. It was not because of any rumour of the +French, for we knew nothing of that till we met the people on the +road, and the colonel said in a moment the news was false. +Buonaparte is not even at Boulogne just now. I was anxious to know +how you had borne the fright, so I hastened to Overcombe at once, as +soon as I could get out of barracks.' + +Anne, who had not been at all responsive to his discourse, now +swayed heavily against him, and looking quickly down he found that +she had silently fainted. To support her in his arms was of course +the impulse of a moment. There was no water to be had, and he could +think of nothing else but to hold her tenderly till she came round +again. Certainly he desired nothing more. + +Again he asked himself, what did it all mean? + +He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids, and at the row of +lashes lying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed itself +in singular perfection now that the customary pink had given place +to a pale luminousness caught from the surrounding atmosphere. The +dumpy ringlets about her forehead and behind her poll, which were +usually as tight as springs, had been partially uncoiled by the +wildness of her ride, and hung in split locks over her forehead and +neck. John, who, during the long months of his absence, had lived +only to meet her again, was in a state of ecstatic reverence, and +bending down he gently kissed her. + +Anne was just becoming conscious. + +'O, Mr. Derriman, never, never!' she murmured, sweeping her face +with her hand. + +'I thought he was at the bottom of it,' said John. + +Anne opened her eyes, and started back from him. 'What is it?' she +said wildly. + +'You are ill, my dear Miss Garland,' replied John in trembling +anxiety, and taking her hand. + +'I am not ill, I am wearied out!' she said. 'Can't we walk on? How +far are we from Overcombe?' + +'About a mile. But tell me, somebody has been hurting you-- +frightening you. I know who it was; it was Derriman, and that was +his horse. Now do you tell me all.' + +Anne reflected. 'Then if I tell you,' she said, 'will you discuss +with me what I had better do, and not for the present let my mother +and your father know? I don't want to alarm them, and I must not +let my affairs interrupt the business connexion between the mill and +the hall that has gone on for so many years.' + +The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told the adventure. His brow +reddened as she went on, and when she had done she said, 'Now you +are angry. Don't do anything dreadful, will you? Remember that +this Festus will most likely succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite +of present appearances, and if Bob succeeds at the mill there should +be no enmity between them.' + +'That's true. I won't tell Bob. Leave him to me. Where is +Derriman now? On his way home, I suppose. When I have seen you +into the house I will deal with him--quite quietly, so that he shall +say nothing about it.' + +'Yes, appeal to him, do! Perhaps he will be better then.' + +They walked on together, Loveday seeming to experience much quiet +bliss. + +'I came to look for you,' he said, 'because of that dear, sweet +letter you wrote.' + +'Yes, I did write you a letter,' she admitted, with misgiving, now +beginning to see her mistake. 'It was because I was sorry I had +blamed you.' + +'I am almost glad you did blame me,' said John cheerfully, 'since, +if you had not, the letter would not have come. I have read it +fifty times a day.' + +This put Anne into an unhappy mood, and they proceeded without much +further talk till the mill chimneys were visible below them. John +then said that he would leave her to go in by herself. + +'Ah, you are going back to get into some danger on my account?' + +'I can't get into much danger with such a fellow as he, can I?' said +John, smiling. + +'Well, no,' she answered, with a sudden carelessness of tone. It +was indispensable that he should be undeceived, and to begin the +process by taking an affectedly light view of his personal risks was +perhaps as good a way to do it as any. Where friendliness was +construed as love, an assumed indifference was the necessary +expression for friendliness. + +So she let him go; and, bidding him hasten back as soon as he could, +went down the hill, while John's feet retraced the upland. + +The trumpet-major spent the whole afternoon and evening in that long +and difficult search for Festus Derriman. Crossing the down at the +end of the second hour he met Molly and Mrs. Loveday. The gig had +been repaired, they had learnt the groundlessness of the alarm, and +they would have been proceeding happily enough but for their anxiety +about Anne. John told them shortly that she had got a lift home, +and proceeded on his way. + +The worthy object of his search had in the meantime been plodding +homeward on foot, sulky at the loss of his charger, encumbered with +his sword, belts, high boots, and uniform, and in his own +discomfiture careless whether Anne Garland's life had been +endangered or not. + +At length Derriman reached a place where the road ran between high +banks, one of which he mounted and paced along as a change from the +hard trackway. Ahead of him he saw an old man sitting down, with +eyes fixed on the dust of the road, as if resting and meditating at +one and the same time. Being pretty sure that he recognized his +uncle in that venerable figure, Festus came forward stealthily, till +he was immediately above the old man's back. The latter was clothed +in faded nankeen breeches, speckled stockings, a drab hat, and a +coat which had once been light blue, but from exposure as a +scarecrow had assumed the complexion and fibre of a dried +pudding-cloth. The farmer was, in fact, returning to the hall, +which he had left in the morning some time later than his nephew, to +seek an asylum in a hollow tree about two miles off. The tree was +so situated as to command a view of the building, and Uncle Benjy +had managed to clamber up inside this natural fortification high +enough to watch his residence through a hole in the bark, till, +gathering from the words of occasional passers-by that the alarm was +at least premature, he had ventured into daylight again. + +He was now engaged in abstractedly tracing a diagram in the dust +with his walking-stick, and muttered words to himself aloud. +Presently he arose and went on his way without turning round. +Festus was curious enough to descend and look at the marks. They +represented an oblong, with two semi-diagonals, and a little square +in the middle. Upon the diagonals were the figures 20 and 17, and +on each side of the parallelogram stood a letter signifying the +point of the compass. + +'What crazy thing is running in his head now?' said Festus to +himself, with supercilious pity, recollecting that the farmer had +been singing those very numbers earlier in the morning. Being able +to make nothing of it, he lengthened his strides, and treading on +tiptoe overtook his relative, saluting him by scratching his back +like a hen. The startled old farmer danced round like a top, and +gasping, said, as he perceived his nephew, 'What, Festy! not thrown +from your horse and killed, then, after all!' + +'No, nunc. What made ye think that?' + +'Champion passed me about an hour ago, when I was in hiding--poor +timid soul of me, for I had nothing to lose by the French coming-- +and he looked awful with the stirrups dangling and the saddle empty. +'Tis a gloomy sight, Festy, to see a horse cantering without a +rider, and I thought you had been--feared you had been thrown off +and killed as dead as a nit.' + +'Bless your dear old heart for being so anxious! And what pretty +picture were you drawing just now with your walking-stick!' + +'O, that! That is only a way I have of amusing myself. It showed +how the French might have advanced to the attack, you know. Such +trifles fill the head of a weak old man like me.' + +'Or the place where something is hid away--money, for instance?' + +'Festy,' said the farmer reproachfully, 'you always know I use the +old glove in the bedroom cupboard for any guinea or two I possess.' + +'Of course I do,' said Festus ironically. + +They had now reached a lonely inn about a mile and a half from the +hall, and, the farmer not responding to his nephew's kind invitation +to come in and treat him, Festus entered alone. He was dusty, +draggled, and weary, and he remained at the tavern long. The +trumpet-major, in the meantime, having searched the roads in vain, +heard in the course of the evening of the yeoman's arrival at this +place, and that he would probably be found there still. He +accordingly approached the door, reaching it just as the dusk of +evening changed to darkness. + +There was no light in the passage, but John pushed on at hazard, +inquired for Derriman, and was told that he would be found in the +back parlour alone. When Loveday first entered the apartment he was +unable to see anything, but following the guidance of a vigorous +snoring, he came to the settle, upon which Festus lay asleep, his +position being faintly signified by the shine of his buttons and +other parts of his uniform. John laid his hand upon the reclining +figure and shook him, and by degrees Derriman stopped his snore and +sat up. + +'Who are you?' he said, in the accents of a man who has been +drinking hard. 'Is it you, dear Anne? Let me kiss you; yes, I +will.' + +'Shut your mouth, you pitiful blockhead; I'll teach you genteeler +manners than to persecute a young woman in that way!' and taking +Festus by the ear, he gave it a good pull. Festus broke out with an +oath, and struck a vague blow in the air with his fist; whereupon +the trumpet-major dealt him a box on the right ear, and a similar +one on the left to artistically balance the first. Festus jumped up +and used his fists wildly, but without any definite result. + +'Want to fight, do ye, eh?' said John. 'Nonsense! you can't fight, +you great baby, and never could. You are only fit to be smacked!' +and he dealt Festus a specimen of the same on the cheek with the +palm of his hand. + +'No, sir, no! O, you are Loveday, the young man she's going to be +married to, I suppose? Dash me, I didn't want to hurt her, sir.' + +'Yes, my name is Loveday; and you'll know where to find me, since we +can't finish this to-night. Pistols or swords, whichever you like, +my boy. Take that, and that, so that you may not forget to call +upon me!' and again he smacked the yeoman's ears and cheeks. 'Do +you know what it is for, eh?' + +'No, Mr. Loveday, sir--yes, I mean, I do.' + +'What is it for, then? I shall keep smacking until you tell me. +Gad! if you weren't drunk, I'd half kill you here to-night.' + +'It is because I served her badly. Damned if I care! I'll do it +again, and be hanged to 'ee! Where's my horse Champion? Tell me +that,' and he hit at the trumpet-major. + +John parried this attack, and taking him firmly by the collar, +pushed him down into the seat, saying, 'Here I hold 'ee till you beg +pardon for your doings to-day. Do you want any more of it, do you?' +And he shook the yeoman to a sort of jelly. + +'I do beg pardon--no, I don't. I say this, that you shall not take +such liberties with old Squire Derriman's nephew, you dirty miller's +son, you flour-worm, you smut in the corn! I'll call you out +to-morrow morning, and have my revenge.' + +'Of course you will; that's what I came for.' And pushing him back +into the corner of the settle, Loveday went out of the house, +feeling considerable satisfaction at having got himself into the +beginning of as nice a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most +jealous lover could desire. + +But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the least +notion--that Festus Derriman, misled by the darkness, the fumes of +his potations, and the constant sight of Anne and Bob together, +never once supposed his assailant to be any other man than Bob, +believing the trumpet-major miles away. + +There was a moon during the early part of John's walk home, but when +he had arrived within a mile of Overcombe the sky clouded over, and +rain suddenly began to fall with some violence. Near him was a +wooden granary on tall stone staddles, and perceiving that the rain +was only a thunderstorm which would soon pass away, he ascended the +steps and entered the doorway, where he stood watching the +half-obscured moon through the streaming rain. Presently, to his +surprise, he beheld a female figure running forward with great +rapidity, not towards the granary for shelter, but towards open +ground. What could she be running for in that direction? The +answer came in the appearance of his brother Bob from that quarter, +seated on the back of his father's heavy horse. As soon as the +woman met him, Bob dismounted and caught her in his arms. They +stood locked together, the rain beating into their unconscious +forms, and the horse looking on. + +The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw himself on +a heap of empty sacks which lay in the corner: he had recognized +the woman to be Anne. Here he reclined in a stupor till he was +aroused by the sound of voices under him, the voices of Anne and his +brother, who, having at last discovered that they were getting wet, +had taken shelter under the granary floor. + +'I have been home,' said she. 'Mother and Molly have both got back +long ago. We were all anxious about you, and I came out to look for +you. O, Bob, I am so glad to see you again!' + +John might have heard every word of the conversation, which was +continued in the same strain for a long time; but he stopped his +ears, and would not. Still they remained, and still was he +determined that they should not see him. With the conserved hope of +more than half a year dashed away in a moment, he could yet feel +that the cruelty of a protest would be even greater than its +inutility. It was absolutely by his own contrivance that the +situation had been shaped. Bob, left to himself, would long ere +this have been the husband of another woman. + +The rain decreased, and the lovers went on. John looked after them +as they strolled, aqua-tinted by the weak moon and mist. Bob had +thrust one of his arms through the rein of the horse, and the other +was round Anne's waist. When they were lost behind the declivity +the trumpet-major came out, and walked homeward even more slowly +than they. As he went on, his face put off its complexion of +despair for one of serene resolve. For the first time in his +dealings with friends he entered upon a course of counterfeiting, +set his features to conceal his thought, and instructed his tongue +to do likewise. He threw fictitiousness into his very gait, even +now, when there was nobody to see him, and struck at stems of wild +parsley with his regimental switch as he had used to do when +soldiering was new to him, and life in general a charming +experience. + +Thus cloaking his sickly thought, he descended to the mill as the +others had done before him, occasionally looking down upon the wet +road to notice how close Anne's little tracks were to Bob's all the +way along, and how precisely a curve in his course was followed by a +curve in hers. But after this he erected his head and walked so +smartly up to the front door that his spurs rang through the court. + +They had all reached home, but before any of them could speak he +cried gaily, 'Ah, Bob, I have been thinking of you! By God, how are +you, my boy? No French cut-throats after all, you see. Here we +are, well and happy together again.' + +'A good Providence has watched over us,' said Mrs. Loveday +cheerfully. 'Yes, in all times and places we are in God's hand.' + +'So we be, so we be!' said the miller, who still shone in all the +fierceness of uniform. 'Well, now we'll ha'e a drop o' drink.' + +'There's none,' said David, coming forward with a drawn face. + +'What!' said the miller. + +'Afore I went to church for a pike to defend my native country from +Boney, I pulled out the spigots of all the barrels, maister; for, +thinks I--damn him!--since we can't drink it ourselves, he shan't +have it, nor none of his men.' + +'But you shouldn't have done it till you was sure he'd come!' said +the miller, aghast. + +'Chok' it all, I was sure!' said David. 'I'd sooner see churches +fall than good drink wasted; but how was I to know better?' + +'Well, well; what with one thing and another this day will cost me a +pretty penny!' said Loveday, bustling off to the cellar, which he +found to be several inches deep in stagnant liquor. 'John, how can +I welcome 'ee?' he continued hopelessly, on his return to the room. +'Only go and see what he's done!' + +'I've ladled up a drap wi' a spoon, trumpet-major,' said David. +''Tisn't bad drinking, though it do taste a little of the floor, +that's true.' + +John said that he did not require anything at all; and then they all +sat down to supper, and were very temperately gay with a drop of +mild elder-wine which Mrs. Loveday found in the bottom of a jar. +The trumpet-major, adhering to the part he meant to play, gave +humorous accounts of his adventures since he had last sat there. He +told them that the season was to be a very lively one--that the +royal family was coming, as usual, and many other interesting +things; so that when he left them to return to barracks few would +have supposed the British army to contain a lighter-hearted man. + +Anne was the only one who doubted the reality of this behaviour. +When she had gone up to her bedroom she stood for some time looking +at the wick of the candle as if it were a painful object, the +expression of her face being shaped by the conviction that John's +afternoon words when he helped her out of the way of Champion were +not in accordance with his words to-night, and that the +dimly-realized kiss during her faintness was no imaginary one. But +in the blissful circumstances of having Bob at hand again she took +optimist views, and persuaded herself that John would soon begin to +see her in the light of a sister. + + + +XXIX. A DISSEMBLER + +To cursory view, John Loveday seemed to accomplish this with amazing +ease. Whenever he came from barracks to Overcombe, which was once +or twice a week, he related news of all sorts to her and Bob with +infinite zest, and made the time as happy a one as had ever been +known at the mill, save for himself alone. He said nothing of +Festus, except so far as to inform Anne that he had expected to see +him and been disappointed. On the evening after the King's arrival +at his seaside residence John appeared again, staying to supper and +describing the royal entry, the many tasteful illuminations and +transparencies which had been exhibited, the quantities of tallow +candles burnt for that purpose, and the swarms of aristocracy who +had followed the King thither. + +When supper was over Bob went outside the house to shut the +shutters, which had, as was often the case, been left open some time +after lights were kindled within. John still sat at the table when +his brother approached the window, though the others had risen and +retired. Bob was struck by seeing through the pane how John's face +had changed. Throughout the supper-time he had been talking to Anne +in the gay tone habitual with him now, which gave greater +strangeness to the gloom of his present appearance. He remained in +thought for a moment, took a letter from his breast-pocket, opened +it, and, with a tender smile at his weakness, kissed the writing +before restoring it to its place. The letter was one that Anne had +written to him at Exonbury. + +Bob stood perplexed; and then a suspicion crossed his mind that +John, from brotherly goodness, might be feigning a satisfaction with +recent events which he did not feel. Bob now made a noise with the +shutters, at which the trumpet-major rose and went out, Bob at once +following him. + +'Jack,' said the sailor ingenuously, 'I'm terribly sorry that I've +done wrong.' + +'How?' asked his brother. + +'In courting our little Anne. Well, you see, John, she was in the +same house with me, and somehow or other I made myself her beau. +But I have been thinking that perhaps you had the first claim on +her, and if so, Jack, I'll make way for 'ee. I--I don't care for +her much, you know--not so very much, and can give her up very well. +It is nothing serious between us at all. Yes, John, you try to get +her; I can look elsewhere.' Bob never knew how much he loved Anne +till he found himself making this speech of renunciation. + +'O Bob, you are mistaken!' said the trumpet-major, who was not +deceived. 'When I first saw her I admired her, and I admire her +now, and like her. I like her so well that I shall be glad to see +you marry her.' + +'But,' replied Bob, with hesitation, 'I thought I saw you looking +very sad, as if you were in love; I saw you take out a letter, in +short. That's what it was disturbed me and made me come to you.' + +'O, I see your mistake!' said John, laughing forcedly. + +At this minute Mrs. Loveday and the miller, who were taking a +twilight walk in the garden, strolled round near to where the +brothers stood. She talked volubly on events in Budmouth, as most +people did at this time. 'And they tell me that the theatre has +been painted up afresh,' she was saying, 'and that the actors have +come for the season, with the most lovely actresses that ever were +seen.' + +When they had passed by John continued, 'I AM in love, Bob; but--not +with Anne.' + +'Ah! who is it then?' said the mate hopefully. + +'One of the actresses at the theatre,' John replied, with a +concoctive look at the vanishing forms of Mr. and Mrs. Loveday. +'She is a very lovely woman, you know. But we won't say anything +more about it--it dashes a man so.' + +'O, one of the actresses!' said Bob, with open mouth. + +'But don't you say anything about it!' continued the trumpet-major +heartily. 'I don't want it known.' + +'No, no--I won't, of course. May I not know her name?' + +'No, not now, Bob. I cannot tell 'ee,' John answered, and with +truth, for Loveday did not know the name of any actress in the +world. + +When his brother had gone, Captain Bob hastened off in a state of +great animation to Anne, whom he found on the top of a neighbouring +hillock which the daylight had scarcely as yet deserted. + +'You have been a long time coming, sir,' said she, in sprightly +tones of reproach. + +'Yes, dearest; and you'll be glad to hear why. I've found out the +whole mystery--yes--why he's queer, and everything.' + +Anne looked startled. + +'He's up to the gunnel in love! We must try to help him on in it, +or I fear he'll go melancholy-mad like.' + +'We help him?' she asked faintly. + +'He's lost his heart to one of the play-actresses at Budmouth, and I +think she slights him.' + +'O, I am so glad!' she exclaimed. + +'Glad that his venture don't prosper?' + +'O no; glad he's so sensible. How long is it since that alarm of +the French?' + +'Six weeks, honey. Why do you ask?' + +'Men can forget in six weeks, can't they, Bob?' + +The impression that John had really kissed her still remained. + +'Well, some men might,' observed Bob judicially. '_I_ couldn't. +Perhaps John might. I couldn't forget YOU in twenty times as long. +Do you know, Anne, I half thought it was you John cared about; and +it was a weight off my heart when he said he didn't.' + +'Did he say he didn't?' + +'Yes. He assured me himself that the only person in the hold of his +heart was this lovely play-actress, and nobody else.' + +'How I should like to see her!' + +'Yes. So should I.' + +'I would rather it had been one of our own neighbours' girls, whose +birth and breeding we know of; but still, if that is his taste, I +hope it will end well for him. How very quick he has been! I +certainly wish we could see her.' + +'I don't know so much as her name. He is very close, and wouldn't +tell a thing about her.' + +'Couldn't we get him to go to the theatre with us? and then we could +watch him, and easily find out the right one. Then we would learn +if she is a good young woman; and if she is, could we not ask her +here, and so make it smoother for him? He has been very gay lately; +that means budding love: and sometimes between his gaieties he has +had melancholy moments; that means there's difficulty.' + +Bob thought her plan a good one, and resolved to put it in practice +on the first available evening. Anne was very curious as to whether +John did really cherish a new passion, the story having quite +surprised her. Possibly it was true; six weeks had passed since +John had shown a single symptom of the old attachment, and what +could not that space of time effect in the heart of a soldier whose +very profession it was to leave girls behind him? + +After this John Loveday did not come to see them for nearly a month, +a neglect which was set down by Bob as an additional proof that his +brother's affections were no longer exclusively centred in his old +home. When at last he did arrive, and the theatre-going was +mentioned to him, the flush of consciousness which Anne expected to +see upon his face was unaccountably absent. + +'Yes, Bob; I should very well like to go to the theatre,' he replied +heartily. 'Who is going besides?' + +'Only Anne,' Bob told him, and then it seemed to occur to the +trumpet-major that something had been expected of him. He rose and +said privately to Bob with some confusion, 'O yes, of course we'll +go. As I am connected with one of the--in short I can get you in +for nothing, you know. At least let me manage everything.' + +'Yes, yes. I wonder you didn't propose to take us before, Jack, and +let us have a good look at her.' + +'I ought to have. You shall go on a King's night. You won't want +me to point her out, Bob; I have my reasons at present for asking +it?' + +'We'll be content with guessing,' said his brother. + +When the gallant John was gone, Anne observed, 'Bob, how he is +changed! I watched him. He showed no feeling, even when you burst +upon him suddenly with the subject nearest his heart.' + +'It must be because his suit don't fay,' said Captain Bob. + + + +XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL + +In two or three days a message arrived asking them to attend at the +theatre on the coming evening, with the added request that they +would dress in their gayest clothes, to do justice to the places +taken. Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon they drove off, +Bob having clothed himself in a splendid suit, recently purchased as +an attempt to bring himself nearer to Anne's style when they +appeared in public together. As finished off by this dashing and +really fashionable attire, he was the perfection of a beau in the +dog-days; pantaloons and boots of the newest make; yards and yards +of muslin wound round his neck, forming a sort of asylum for the +lower part of his face; two fancy waistcoats, and coat-buttons like +circular shaving glasses. The absurd extreme of female fashion, +which was to wear muslin dresses in January, was at this time +equalled by that of the men, who wore clothes enough in August to +melt them. Nobody would have guessed from Bob's presentation now +that he had ever been aloft on a dark night in the Atlantic, or knew +the hundred ingenuities that could be performed with a rope's end +and a marline-spike as well as his mother tongue. + +It was a day of days. Anne wore her celebrated celestial blue +pelisse, her Leghorn hat, and her muslin dress with the waist under +the arms; the latter being decorated with excellent Honiton lace +bought of the woman who travelled from that place to Overcombe and +its neighbourhood with a basketful of her own manufacture, and a +cushion on which she worked by the wayside. John met the lovers at +the inn outside the town, and after stabling the horse they entered +the town together, the trumpet-major informing them that the +watering-place had never been so full before, that the Court, the +Prince of Wales, and everybody of consequence was there, and that an +attic could scarcely be got for money. The King had gone for a +cruise in his yacht, and they would be in time to see him land. + +Then drums and fifes were heard, and in a minute or two they saw +Sergeant Stanner advancing along the street with a firm countenance, +fiery poll, and rigid staring eyes, in front of his +recruiting-party. The sergeant's sword was drawn, and at intervals +of two or three inches along its shining blade were impaled +fluttering one-pound notes, to express the lavish bounty that was +offered. He gave a stern, suppressed nod of friendship to our +people, and passed by. Next they came up to a waggon, bowered over +with leaves and flowers, so that the men inside could hardly be +seen. + +'Come to see the King, hip-hip hurrah!' cried a voice within, and +turning they saw through the leaves the nose and face of +Cripplestraw. The waggon contained all Derriman's workpeople. + +'Is your master here?' said John. + +'No, trumpet-major, sir. But young maister is coming to fetch us at +nine o'clock, in case we should be too blind to drive home.' + +'O! where is he now?' + +'Never mind,' said Anne impatiently, at which the trumpet-major +obediently moved on. + +By the time they reached the pier it was six o'clock; the royal +yacht was returning; a fact announced by the ships in the harbour +firing a salute. The King came ashore with his hat in his hand, and +returned the salutations of the well-dressed crowd in his old +indiscriminate fashion. While this cheering and waving of +handkerchiefs was going on Anne stood between the two brothers, who +protectingly joined their hands behind her back, as if she were a +delicate piece of statuary that a push might damage. Soon the King +had passed, and receiving the military salutes of the piquet, joined +the Queen and princesses at Gloucester Lodge, the homely house of +red brick in which he unostentatiously resided. + +As there was yet some little time before the theatre would open, +they strayed upon the velvet sands, and listened to the songs of the +sailors, one of whom extemporized for the occasion:-- + + 'Portland Road the King aboard, the King aboard! + Portland Road the King aboard, + We weighed and sailed from Portland Road !' * + +* Vide Preface. + +When they had looked on awhile at the combats at single-stick which +were in progress hard by, and seen the sum of five guineas handed +over to the modest gentleman who had broken most heads, they +returned to Gloucester Lodge, whence the King and other members of +his family now reappeared, and drove, at a slow trot, round to the +theatre in carriages drawn by the Hanoverian white horses that were +so well known in the town at this date. + +When Anne and Bob entered the theatre they found that John had taken +excellent places, and concluded that he had got them for nothing +through the influence of the lady of his choice. As a matter of +fact he had paid full prices for those two seats, like any other +outsider, and even then had a difficulty in getting them, it being a +King's night. When they were settled he himself retired to an +obscure part of the pit, from which the stage was scarcely visible. + +'We can see beautifully,' said Bob, in an aristocratic voice, as he +took a delicate pinch of snuff, and drew out the magnificent +pocket-handkerchief brought home from the East for such occasions. +'But I am afraid poor John can't see at all.' + +'But we can see him,' replied Anne, 'and notice by his face which of +them it is he is so charmed with. The light of that corner candle +falls right upon his cheek.' + +By this time the King had appeared in his place, which was overhung +by a canopy of crimson satin fringed with gold. About twenty places +were occupied by the royal family and suite; and beyond them was a +crowd of powdered and glittering personages of fashion, completely +filling the centre of the little building; though the King so +frequently patronized the local stage during these years that the +crush was not inconvenient. + +The curtain rose and the play began. To-night it was one of +Colman's, who at this time enjoyed great popularity, and Mr. +Bannister supported the leading character. Anne, with her hand +privately clasped in Bob's, and looking as if she did not know it, +partly watched the piece and partly the face of the impressionable +John who had so soon transferred his affections elsewhere. She had +not long to wait. When a certain one of the subordinate ladies of +the comedy entered on the stage the trumpet-major in his corner not +only looked conscious, but started and gazed with parted lips. + +'This must be the one,' whispered Anne quickly. 'See, he is +agitated!' + +She turned to Bob, but at the same moment his hand convulsively +closed upon hers as he, too, strangely fixed his eyes upon the +newly-entered lady. + +'What is it?' + +Anne looked from one to the other without regarding the stage at +all. Her answer came in the voice of the actress who now spoke for +the first time. The accents were those of Miss Matilda Johnson. + +One thought rushed into both their minds on the instant, and Bob was +the first to utter it. + +'What--is she the woman of his choice after all?' + +'If so, it is a dreadful thing!' murmured Anne. + +But, as may be imagined, the unfortunate John was as much surprised +by this rencounter as the other two. Until this moment he had been +in utter ignorance of the theatrical company and all that pertained +to it. Moreover, much as he knew of Miss Johnson, he was not aware +that she had ever been trained in her youth as an actress, and that +after lapsing into straits and difficulties for a couple of years +she had been so fortunate as to again procure an engagement here. + +The trumpet-major, though not prominently seated, had been seen by +Matilda already, who had observed still more plainly her old +betrothed and Anne in the other part of the house. John was not +concerned on his own account at being face to face with her, but at +the extraordinary suspicion that this conjuncture must revive in the +minds of his best beloved friends. After some moments of pained +reflection he tapped his knee. + +'Gad, I won't explain; it shall go as it is!' he said. 'Let them +think her mine. Better that than the truth, after all.' + +Had personal prominence in the scene been at this moment +proportioned to intentness of feeling, the whole audience, regal and +otherwise, would have faded into an indistinct mist of background, +leaving as the sole emergent and telling figures Bob and Anne at one +point, the trumpet-major on the left hand, and Matilda at the +opposite corner of the stage. But fortunately the deadlock of +awkward suspense into which all four had fallen was terminated by an +accident. A messenger entered the King's box with despatches. +There was an instant pause in the performance. The despatch-box +being opened the King read for a few moments with great interest, +the eyes of the whole house, including those of Anne Garland, being +anxiously fixed upon his face; for terrible events fell as +unexpectedly as thunderbolts at this critical time of our history. +The King at length beckoned to Lord --, who was immediately behind +him, the play was again stopped, and the contents of the despatch +were publicly communicated to the audience. + +Sir Robert Calder, cruising off Finisterre, had come in sight of +Villeneuve, and made the signal for action, which, though checked by +the weather, had resulted in the capture of two Spanish +line-of-battle ships, and the retreat of Villeneuve into Ferrol. + +The news was received with truly national feeling, if noise might be +taken as an index of patriotism. 'Rule Britannia' was called for +and sung by the whole house. But the importance of the event was +far from being recognized at this time; and Bob Loveday, as he sat +there and heard it, had very little conception how it would bear +upon his destiny. + +This parenthetic excitement diverted for a few minutes the eyes of +Bob and Anne from the trumpet-major; and when the play proceeded, +and they looked back to his corner, he was gone. + +'He's just slipped round to talk to her behind the scenes,' said Bob +knowingly. 'Shall we go too, and tease him for a sly dog?' + +'No, I would rather not.' + +'Shall we go home, then?' + +'Not unless her presence is too much for you?' + +'O--not at all. We'll stay here. Ah, there she is again.' + +They sat on, and listened to Matilda's speeches which she delivered +with such delightful coolness that they soon began to considerably +interest one of the party. + +'Well, what a nerve the young woman has!' he said at last in tones +of admiration, and gazing at Miss Johnson with all his might. +'After all, Jack's taste is not so bad. She's really deuced +clever.' + +'Bob, I'll go home if you wish to,' said Anne quickly. + +'O no--let us see how she fleets herself off that bit of a scrape +she's playing at now. Well, what a hand she is at it, to be sure!' + +Anne said no more, but waited on, supremely uncomfortable, and +almost tearful. She began to feel that she did not like life +particularly well; it was too complicated: she saw nothing of the +scene, and only longed to get away, and to get Bob away with her. +At last the curtain fell on the final act, and then began the farce +of 'No Song no Supper.' Matilda did not appear in this piece, and +Anne again inquired if they should go home. This time Bob agreed, +and taking her under his care with redoubled affection, to make up +for the species of coma which had seized upon his heart for a time, +he quietly accompanied her out of the house. + +When they emerged upon the esplanade, the August moon was shining +across the sea from the direction of St. Aldhelm's Head. Bob +unconsciously loitered, and turned towards the pier. Reaching the +end of the promenade they surveyed the quivering waters in silence +for some time, until a long dark line shot from behind the +promontory of the Nothe, and swept forward into the harbour. + +'What boat is that?' said Anne. + +'It seems to be some frigate lying in the Roads,' said Bob +carelessly, as he brought Anne round with a gentle pressure of his +arm and bent his steps towards the homeward end of the town. + +Meanwhile, Miss Johnson, having finished her duties for that +evening, rapidly changed her dress, and went out likewise. The +prominent position which Anne and Captain Bob had occupied side by +side in the theatre, left her no alternative but to suppose that the +situation was arranged by Bob as a species of defiance to herself; +and her heart, such as it was, became proportionately embittered +against him. In spite of the rise in her fortunes, Miss Johnson +still remembered--and always would remember--her humiliating +departure from Overcombe; and it had been to her even a more +grievous thing that Bob had acquiesced in his brother's ruling than +that John had determined it. At the time of setting out she was +sustained by a firm faith that Bob would follow her, and nullify his +brother's scheme; but though she waited Bob never came. + +She passed along by the houses facing the sea, and scanned the +shore, the footway, and the open road close to her, which, +illuminated by the slanting moon to a great brightness, sparkled +with minute facets of crystallized salts from the water sprinkled +there during the day. The promenaders at the further edge appeared +in dark profiles; and beyond them was the grey sea, parted into two +masses by the tapering braid of moonlight across the waves. + +Two forms crossed this line at a startling nearness to her; she +marked them at once as Anne and Bob Loveday. They were walking +slowly, and in the earnestness of their discourse were oblivious of +the presence of any human beings save themselves. Matilda stood +motionless till they had passed. + +'How I love them!' she said, treading the initial step of her walk +onwards with a vehemence that walking did not demand. + +'So do I--especially one,' said a voice at her elbow; and a man +wheeled round her, and looked in her face, which had been fully +exposed to the moon. + +'You--who are you?' she asked. + +'Don't you remember, ma'am? We walked some way together towards +Overcombe earlier in the summer.' Matilda looked more closely, and +perceived that the speaker was Derriman, in plain clothes. He +continued, 'You are one of the ladies of the theatre, I know. May I +ask why you said in such a queer way that you loved that couple?' + +'In a queer way?' + +'Well, as if you hated them.' + +'I don't mind your knowing that I have good reason to hate them. +You do too, it seems?' + +'That man,' said Festus savagely, 'came to me one night about that +very woman; insulted me before I could put myself on my guard, and +ran away before I could come up with him and avenge myself. The +woman tricks me at every turn! I want to part 'em.' + +'Then why don't you? There's a splendid opportunity. Do you see +that soldier walking along? He's a marine; he looks into the +gallery of the theatre every night: and he's in connexion with the +press-gang that came ashore just now from the frigate lying in +Portland Roads. They are often here for men.' + +'Yes. Our boatmen dread 'em.' + +'Well, we have only to tell him that Loveday is a seaman to be clear +of him this very night.' + +'Done!' said Festus. 'Take my arm and come this way.' They walked +across to the footway. 'Fine night, sergeant.' + +'It is, sir.' + +'Looking for hands, I suppose?' + +'It is not to be known, sir. We don't begin till half past ten.' + +'It is a pity you don't begin now. I could show 'ee excellent +game.' + +'What, that little nest of fellows at the "Old Rooms" in Cove Row? +I have just heard of 'em.' + +'No--come here.' Festus, with Miss Johnson on his arm, led the +sergeant quickly along the parade, and by the time they reached the +Narrows the lovers, who walked but slowly, were visible in front of +them. 'There's your man,' he said. + +'That buck in pantaloons and half-boots--a looking like a squire?' + +'Twelve months ago he was mate of the brig Pewit; but his father has +made money, and keeps him at home.' + +'Faith, now you tell of it, there's a hint of sea legs about him. +What's the young beau's name?' + +'Don't tell!' whispered Matilda, impulsively clutching Festus's arm. + +But Festus had already said, 'Robert Loveday, son of the miller at +Overcombe. You may find several likely fellows in that +neighbourhood.' + +The marine said that he would bear it in mind, and they left him. + +'I wish you had not told,' said Matilda tearfully. 'She's the +worst!' + +'Dash my eyes now; listen to that! Why, you chicken-hearted old +stager, you was as well agreed as I. Come now; hasn't he used you +badly?' + +Matilda's acrimony returned. 'I was down on my luck, or he wouldn't +have had the chance!' she said. + +'Well, then, let things be.' + + + +XXXI. MIDNIGHT VISITORS + +Miss Garland and Loveday walked leisurely to the inn and called for +horse-and-gig. While the hostler was bringing it round, the +landlord, who knew Bob and his family well, spoke to him quietly in +the passage. + +'Is this then because you want to throw dust in the eyes of the +Black Diamond chaps?' (with an admiring glance at Bob's costume). + +'The Black Diamond?' said Bob; and Anne turned pale. + +'She hove in sight just after dark, and at nine o'clock a boat +having more than a dozen marines on board, with cloaks on, rowed +into harbour.' + +Bob reflected. 'Then there'll be a press to-night; depend upon it,' +he said. + +'They won't know you, will they, Bob?' said Anne anxiously. + +'They certainly won't know him for a seaman now,' remarked the +landlord, laughing, and again surveying Bob up and down. 'But if I +was you two, I should drive home-along straight and quiet; and be +very busy in the mill all to-morrow, Mr. Loveday.' + +They drove away; and when they had got onward out of the town, Anne +strained her eyes wistfully towards Portland. Its dark contour, +lying like a whale on the sea, was just perceptible in the gloom as +the background to half-a-dozen ships' lights nearer at hand. + +'They can't make you go, now you are a gentleman tradesman, can +they?' she asked. + +'If they want me they can have me, dearest. I have often said I +ought to volunteer.' + +'And not care about me at all?' + +'It is just that that keeps me at home. I won't leave you if I can +help it.' + +'It cannot make such a vast difference to the country whether one +man goes or stays! But if you want to go you had better, and not +mind us at all!' + +Bob put a period to her speech by a mark of affection to which +history affords many parallels in every age. She said no more about +the Black Diamond; but whenever they ascended a hill she turned her +head to look at the lights in Portland Roads, and the grey expanse +of intervening sea. + +Though Captain Bob had stated that he did not wish to volunteer, and +would not leave her if he could help it, the remark required some +qualification. That Anne was charming and loving enough to chain +him anywhere was true; but he had begun to find the mill-work +terribly irksome at times. Often during the last month, when +standing among the rumbling cogs in his new miller's suit, which ill +became him, he had yawned, thought wistfully of the old pea-jacket, +and the waters of the deep blue sea. His dread of displeasing his +father by showing anything of this change of sentiment was great; +yet he might have braved it but for knowing that his marriage with +Anne, which he hoped might take place the next year, was dependent +entirely upon his adherence to the mill business. Even were his +father indifferent, Mrs. Loveday would never intrust her only +daughter to the hands of a husband who would be away from home +five-sixths of his time. + +But though, apart from Anne, he was not averse to seafaring in +itself, to be smuggled thither by the machinery of a press-gang was +intolerable; and the process of seizing, stunning, pinioning, and +carrying off unwilling hands was one which Bob as a man had always +determined to hold out against to the utmost of his power. Hence, +as they went towards home, he frequently listened for sounds behind +him, but hearing none he assured his sweetheart that they were safe +for that night at least. The mill was still going when they +arrived, though old Mr. Loveday was not to be seen; he had retired +as soon as he heard the horse's hoofs in the lane, leaving Bob to +watch the grinding till three o'clock; when the elder would rise, +and Bob withdraw to bed--a frequent arrangement between them since +Bob had taken the place of grinder. + +Having reached the privacy of her own room, Anne threw open the +window, for she had not the slightest intention of going to bed just +yet. The tale of the Black Diamond had disturbed her by a slow, +insidious process that was worse than sudden fright. Her window +looked into the court before the house, now wrapped in the shadow of +the trees and the hill; and she leaned upon its sill listening +intently. She could have heard any strange sound distinctly enough +in one direction; but in the other all low noises were absorbed in +the patter of the mill, and the rush of water down the race. + +However, what she heard came from the hitherto silent side, and was +intelligible in a moment as being the footsteps of men. She tried +to think they were some late stragglers from Budmouth. Alas! no; +the tramp was too regular for that of villagers. She hastily +turned, extinguished the candle, and listened again. As they were +on the main road there was, after all, every probability that the +party would pass the bridge which gave access to the mill court +without turning in upon it, or even noticing that such an entrance +existed. In this again she was disappointed: they crossed into the +front without a pause. The pulsations of her heart became a turmoil +now, for why should these men, if they were the press-gang, and +strangers to the locality, have supposed that a sailor was to be +found here, the younger of the two millers Loveday being never seen +now in any garb which could suggest that he was other than a miller +pure, like his father? One of the men spoke. + +'I am not sure that we are in the right place,' he said. + +'This is a mill, anyhow,' said another. + +'There's lots about here.' + +'Then come this way a moment with your light.' + +Two of the group went towards the cart-house on the opposite side of +the yard, and when they reached it a dark lantern was opened, the +rays being directed upon the front of the miller's waggon. + +'"Loveday and Son, Overcombe Mill,"' continued the man, reading from +the waggon. '"Son," you see, is lately painted in. That's our +man.' + +He moved to turn off the light, but before he had done so it flashed +over the forms of the speakers, and revealed a sergeant, a naval +officer, and a file of marines. + +Anne waited to see no more. When Bob stayed up to grind, as he was +doing to-night, he often sat in his room instead of remaining all +the time in the mill; and this room was an isolated chamber over the +bakehouse, which could not be reached without going downstairs and +ascending the step-ladder that served for his staircase. Anne +descended in the dark, clambered up the ladder, and saw that light +strayed through the chink below the door. His window faced towards +the garden, and hence the light could not as yet have been seen by +the press-gang. + +'Bob, dear Bob!' she said, through the keyhole. 'Put out your +light, and run out of the back-door!' + +'Why?' said Bob, leisurely knocking the ashes from the pipe he had +been smoking. + +'The press-gang!' + +'They have come? By God! who can have blown upon me? All right, +dearest. I'm game.' + +Anne, scarcely knowing what she did, descended the ladder and ran to +the back-door, hastily unbolting it to save Bob's time, and gently +opening it in readiness for him. She had no sooner done this than +she felt hands laid upon her shoulder from without, and a voice +exclaiming, 'That's how we doos it--quite an obleeging young man!' + +Though the hands held her rather roughly, Anne did not mind for +herself, and turning she cried desperately, in tones intended to +reach Bob's ears: 'They are at the back-door; try the front!' + +But inexperienced Miss Garland little knew the shrewd habits of the +gentlemen she had to deal with, who, well used to this sort of +pastime, had already posted themselves at every outlet from the +premises. + +'Bring the lantern,' shouted the fellow who held her. 'Why--'tis a +girl! I half thought so--Here is a way in,' he continued to his +comrades, hastening to the foot of the ladder which led to Bob's +room. + +'What d'ye want?' said Bob, quietly opening the door, and showing +himself still radiant in the full dress that he had worn with such +effect at the Theatre Royal, which he had been about to change for +his mill suit when Anne gave the alarm. + +'This gentleman can't be the right one,' observed a marine, rather +impressed by Bob's appearance. + +'Yes, yes; that's the man,' said the sergeant. 'Now take it +quietly, my young cock-o'-wax. You look as if you meant to, and +'tis wise of ye.' + +'Where are you going to take me?' said Bob. + +'Only aboard the Black Diamond. If you choose to take the bounty +and come voluntarily, you'll be allowed to go ashore whenever your +ship's in port. If you don't, and we've got to pinion ye, you will +not have your liberty at all. As you must come, willy-nilly, you'll +do the first if you've any brains whatever.' + +Bob's temper began to rise. 'Don't you talk so large, about your +pinioning, my man. When I've settled--' + +'Now or never, young blow-hard,' interrupted his informant. + +'Come, what jabber is this going on?' said the lieutenant, stepping +forward. 'Bring your man.' + +One of the marines set foot on the ladder, but at the same moment a +shoe from Bob's hand hit the lantern with well-aimed directness, +knocking it clean out of the grasp of the man who held it. In spite +of the darkness they began to scramble up the ladder. Bob thereupon +shut the door, which being but of slight construction, was as he +knew only a momentary defence. But it gained him time enough to +open the window, gather up his legs upon the sill, and spring across +into the apple-tree growing without. He alighted without much hurt +beyond a few scratches from the boughs, a shower of falling apples +testifying to the force of his leap. + +'Here he is!' shouted several below who had seen Bob's figure flying +like a raven's across the sky. + +There was stillness for a moment in the tree. Then the fugitive +made haste to climb out upon a low-hanging branch towards the +garden, at which the men beneath all rushed in that direction to +catch him as he dropped, saying, 'You may as well come down, old +boy. 'Twas a spry jump, and we give ye credit for 't.' + +The latter movement of Loveday had been a mere feint. Partly hidden +by the leaves he glided back to the other part of the tree, from +whence it was easy to jump upon a thatch-covered out-house. This +intention they did not appear to suspect, which gave him the +opportunity of sliding down the slope and entering the back door of +the mill. + +'He's here, he's here!' the men exclaimed, running back from the +tree. + +By this time they had obtained another light, and pursued him +closely along the back quarters of the mill. Bob had entered the +lower room, seized hold of the chain by which the flour-sacks were +hoisted from story to story by connexion with the mill-wheel, and +pulled the rope that hung alongside for the purpose of throwing it +into gear. The foremost pursuers arrived just in time to see +Captain Bob's legs and shoe-buckles vanishing through the trap-door +in the joists overhead, his person having been whirled up by the +machinery like any bag of flour, and the trap falling to behind him. + +'He's gone up by the hoist!' said the sergeant, running up the +ladder in the corner to the next floor, and elevating the light just +in time to see Bob's suspended figure ascending in the same way +through the same sort of trap into the second floor. The second +trap also fell together behind him, and he was lost to view as +before. + +It was more difficult to follow now; there was only a flimsy little +ladder, and the men ascended cautiously. When they stepped out upon +the loft it was empty. + +'He must ha' let go here,' said one of the marines, who knew more +about mills than the others. 'If he had held fast a moment longer, +he would have been dashed against that beam.' + +They looked up. The hook by which Bob had held on had ascended to +the roof, and was winding round the cylinder. Nothing was visible +elsewhere but boarded divisions like the stalls of a stable, on each +side of the stage they stood upon, these compartments being more or +less heaped up with wheat and barley in the grain. + +'Perhaps he's buried himself in the corn.' + +The whole crew jumped into the corn-bins, and stirred about their +yellow contents; but neither arm, leg, nor coat-tail was uncovered. +They removed sacks, peeped among the rafters of the roof, but to no +purpose. The lieutenant began to fume at the loss of time. + +'What cursed fools to let the man go! Why, look here, what's this?' +He had opened the door by which sacks were taken in from waggons +without, and dangling from the cat-head projecting above it was the +rope used in lifting them. 'There's the way he went down,' the +officer continued. 'The man's gone.' + +Amidst mumblings and curses the gang descended the pair of ladders +and came into the open air; but Captain Bob was nowhere to be seen. +When they reached the front door of the house the miller was +standing on the threshold, half dressed. + +'Your son is a clever fellow, miller,' said the lieutenant; 'but it +would have been much better for him if he had come quiet.' + +'That's a matter of opinion,' said Loveday. + +'I have no doubt that he's in the house.' + +'He may be; and he may not.' + +'Do you know where he is?' + +'I do not; and if I did I shouldn't tell.' + +'Naturally.' + +'I heard steps beating up the road, sir,' said the sergeant. + +They turned from the door, and leaving four of the marines to keep +watch round the house, the remainder of the party marched into the +lane as far as where the other road branched off. While they were +pausing to decide which course to take, one of the soldiers held up +the light. A black object was discernible upon the ground before +them, and they found it to be a hat--the hat of Bob Loveday. + +'We are on the track,' cried the sergeant, deciding for this +direction. + +They tore on rapidly, and the footsteps previously heard became +audible again, increasing in clearness, which told that they gained +upon the fugitive, who in another five minutes stopped and turned. +The rays of the candle fell upon Anne. + +'What do you want?' she said, showing her frightened face. + +They made no reply, but wheeled round and left her. She sank down +on the bank to rest, having done all she could. It was she who had +taken down Bob's hat from a nail, and dropped it at the turning with +the view of misleading them till he should have got clear off. + + + +XXXII. DELIVERANCE + +But Anne Garland was too anxious to remain long away from the centre +of operations. When she got back she found that the press-gang were +standing in the court discussing their next move. + +'Waste no more time here,' the lieutenant said. 'Two more villages +to visit to-night, and the nearest three miles off. There's nobody +else in this place, and we can't come back again.' + +When they were moving away, one of the private marines, who had kept +his eye on Anne, and noticed her distress, contrived to say in a +whisper as he passed her, 'We are coming back again as soon as it +begins to get light; that's only said to deceive 'ee. Keep your +young man out of the way.' + +They went as they had come; and the little household then met +together, Mrs. Loveday having by this time dressed herself and come +down. A long and anxious discussion followed. + +'Somebody must have told upon the chap,' Loveday remarked. 'How +should they have found him out else, now he's been home from sea +this twelvemonth?' + +Anne then mentioned what the friendly marine had told her; and +fearing lest Bob was in the house, and would be discovered there +when daylight came, they searched and called for him everywhere. + +'What clothes has he got on?' said the miller. + +'His lovely new suit,' said his wife. 'I warrant it is quite +spoiled!' + +'He's got no hat,' said Anne. + +'Well,' said Loveday, 'you two go and lie down now and I'll bide up; +and as soon as he comes in, which he'll do most likely in the course +of the night, I'll let him know that they are coming again.' + +Anne and Mrs. Loveday went to their bedrooms, and the miller entered +the mill as if he were simply staying up to grind. But he +continually left the flour-shoot to go outside and walk round; each +time he could see no living being near the spot. Anne meanwhile had +lain down dressed upon her bed, the window still open, her ears +intent upon the sound of footsteps and dreading the reappearance of +daylight and the gang's return. Three or four times during the +night she descended to the mill to inquire of her stepfather if Bob +had shown himself; but the answer was always in the negative. + +At length the curtains of her bed began to reveal their pattern, the +brass handles of the drawers gleamed forth, and day dawned. While +the light was yet no more than a suffusion of pallor, she arose, put +on her hat, and determined to explore the surrounding premises +before the men arrived. Emerging into the raw loneliness of the +daybreak, she went upon the bridge and looked up and down the road. +It was as she had left it, empty, and the solitude was rendered yet +more insistent by the silence of the mill-wheel, which was now +stopped, the miller having given up expecting Bob and retired to bed +about three o'clock. The footprints of the marines still remained +in the dust on the bridge, all the heel-marks towards the house, +showing that the party had not as yet returned. + +While she lingered she heard a slight noise in the other direction, +and, turning, saw a woman approaching. The woman came up quickly, +and, to her amazement, Anne recognized Matilda. Her walk was +convulsive, face pale, almost haggard, and the cold light of the +morning invested it with all the ghostliness of death. She had +plainly walked all the way from Budmouth, for her shoes were covered +with dust. + +'Has the press-gang been here?' she gasped. 'If not they are +coming!' + +'They have been.' + +'And got him--I am too late!' + +'No; they are coming back again. Why did you--' + +'I came to try to save him. Can we save him? Where is he?' + +Anne looked the woman in the face, and it was impossible to doubt +that she was in earnest. + +'I don't know,' she answered. 'I am trying to find him before they +come.' + +'Will you not let me help you?' cried the repentant Matilda. + +Without either objecting or assenting Anne turned and led the way to +the back part of the homestead. + +Matilda, too, had suffered that night. From the moment of parting +with Festus Derriman a sentiment of revulsion from the act to which +she had been a party set in and increased, till at length it reached +an intensity of remorse which she could not passively bear. She had +risen before day and hastened thitherward to know the worst, and if +possible hinder consequences that she had been the first to set in +train. + +After going hither and thither in the adjoining field, Anne entered +the garden. The walks were bathed in grey dew, and as she passed +observantly along them it appeared as if they had been brushed by +some foot at a much earlier hour. At the end of the garden, bushes +of broom, laurel, and yew formed a constantly encroaching shrubbery, +that had come there almost by chance, and was never trimmed. Behind +these bushes was a garden-seat, and upon it lay Bob sound asleep. + +The ends of his hair were clotted with damp, and there was a foggy +film upon the mirror-like buttons of his coat, and upon the buckles +of his shoes. His bunch of new gold seals was dimmed by the same +insidious dampness; his shirt-frill and muslin neckcloth were limp +as seaweed. It was plain that he had been there a long time. Anne +shook him, but he did not awake, his breathing being slow and +stertorous. + +'Bob, wake; 'tis your own Anne!' she said, with innocent +earnestness; and then, fearfully turning her head, she saw that +Matilda was close behind her. + +'You needn't mind me,' said Matilda bitterly. 'I am on your side +now. Shake him again.' + +Anne shook him again, but he slept on. Then she noticed that his +forehead bore the mark of a heavy wound. + +'I fancy I hear something!' said her companion, starting forward and +endeavouring to wake Bob herself. 'He is stunned, or drugged!' she +said; 'there is no rousing him.' + +Anne raised her head and listened. From the direction of the +eastern road came the sound of a steady tramp. 'They are coming +back!' she said, clasping her hands. 'They will take him, ill as he +is! He won't open his eyes--no, it is no use! O, what shall we +do?' + +Matilda did not reply, but running to the end of the seat on which +Bob lay, tried its weight in her arms. + +'It is not too heavy,' she said. 'You take that end, and I'll take +this. We'll carry him away to some place of hiding.' + +Anne instantly seized the other end, and they proceeded with their +burden at a slow pace to the lower garden-gate, which they reached +as the tread of the press-gang resounded over the bridge that gave +access to the mill court, now hidden from view by the hedge and the +trees of the garden. + +'We will go down inside this field,' said Anne faintly. + +'No!' said the other; 'they will see our foot-tracks in the dew. We +must go into the road.' + +'It is the very road they will come down when they leave the mill.' + +'It cannot be helped; it is neck or nothing with us now.' + +So they emerged upon the road, and staggered along without speaking, +occasionally resting for a moment to ease their arms; then shaking +him to arouse him, and finding it useless, seizing the seat again. +When they had gone about two hundred yards Matilda betrayed signs of +exhaustion, and she asked, 'Is there no shelter near?' + +'When we get to that little field of corn,' said Anne. + +'It is so very far. Surely there is some place near?' + +She pointed to a few scrubby bushes overhanging a little stream, +which passed under the road near this point. + +'They are not thick enough,' said Anne. + +'Let us take him under the bridge,' said Matilda. 'I can go no +further.' + +Entering the opening by which cattle descended to drink, they waded +into the weedy water, which here rose a few inches above their +ankles. To ascend the stream, stoop under the arch, and reach the +centre of the roadway, was the work of a few minutes. + +'If they look under the arch we are lost,' murmured Anne. + +'There is no parapet to the bridge, and they may pass over without +heeding.' + +They waited, their heads almost in contact with the reeking arch, +and their feet encircled by the stream, which was at its summer +lowness now. For some minutes they could hear nothing but the +babble of the water over their ankles, and round the legs of the +seat on which Bob slumbered, the sounds being reflected in a musical +tinkle from the hollow sides of the arch. Anne's anxiety now was +lest he should not continue sleeping till the search was over, but +start up with his habitual imprudence, and scorning such means of +safety, rush out into their arms. + +A quarter of an hour dragged by, and then indications reached their +ears that the re-examination of the mill had begun and ended. The +well-known tramp drew nearer, and reverberated through the ground +over their heads, where its volume signified to the listeners that +the party had been largely augmented by pressed men since the night +preceding. The gang passed the arch, and the noise regularly +diminished, as if no man among them had thought of looking aside for +a moment. + +Matilda broke the silence. 'I wonder if they have left a watch +behind?' she said doubtfully. + +'I will go and see,' said Anne. 'Wait till I return.' + +'No; I can do no more. When you come back I shall be gone. I ask +one thing of you. If all goes well with you and him, and he marries +you--don't be alarmed; my plans lie elsewhere--when you are his wife +tell him who helped to carry him away. But don't mention my name to +the rest of your family, either now or at any time.' + +Anne regarded the speaker for a moment, and promised; after which +she waded out from the archway. + +Matilda stood looking at Bob for a moment, as if preparing to go, +till moved by some impulse she bent and lightly kissed him once. + +'How can you!' cried Anne reproachfully. When leaving the mouth of +the arch she had bent back and seen the act. + +Matilda flushed. 'You jealous baby!' she said scornfully. + +Anne hesitated for a moment, then went out from the water, and +hastened towards the mill. + +She entered by the garden, and, seeing no one, advanced and peeped +in at the window. Her mother and Mr. Loveday were sitting within as +usual. + +'Are they all gone?' said Anne softly. + +'Yes. They did not trouble us much, beyond going into every room, +and searching about the garden, where they saw steps. They have +been lucky to-night; they have caught fifteen or twenty men at +places further on; so the loss of Bob was no hurt to their feelings. +I wonder where in the world the poor fellow is!' + +'I will show you,' said Anne. And explaining in a few words what +had happened, she was promptly followed by David and Loveday along +the road. She lifted her dress and entered the arch with some +anxiety on account of Matilda; but the actress was gone, and Bob lay +on the seat as she had left him. + +Bob was brought out, and water thrown upon his face; but though he +moved he did not rouse himself until some time after he had been +borne into the house. Here he opened his eyes, and saw them +standing round, and gathered a little consciousness. + +'You are all right, my boy!' said his father. 'What hev happened to +ye? Where did ye get that terrible blow?' + +'Ah--I can mind now,' murmured Bob, with a stupefied gaze around. +'I fell in slipping down the topsail halyard--the rope, that is, was +too short--and I fell upon my head. And then I went away. When I +came back I thought I wouldn't disturb ye: so I lay down out there, +to sleep out the watch; but the pain in my head was so great that I +couldn't get to sleep; so I picked some of the poppy-heads in the +border, which I once heard was a good thing for sending folks to +sleep when they are in pain. So I munched up all I could find, and +dropped off quite nicely.' + +'I wondered who had picked 'em!' said Molly. 'I noticed they were +gone.' + +'Why, you might never have woke again!' said Mrs. Loveday, holding +up her hands. 'How is your head now?' + +'I hardly know,' replied the young man, putting his hand to his +forehead and beginning to doze again. 'Where be those fellows that +boarded us? With this--smooth water and--fine breeze we ought to +get away from 'em. Haul in--the larboard braces, and--bring her to +the wind.' + +'You are at home, dear Bob,' said Anne, bending over him, 'and the +men are gone.' + +'Come along upstairs: th' beest hardly awake now,' said his father +and Bob was assisted to bed. + + + +XXXIII. A DISCOVERY TURNS THE SCALE + +In four-and-twenty hours Bob had recovered. But though physically +himself again, he was not at all sure of his position as a patriot. +He had that practical knowledge of seamanship of which the country +stood much in need, and it was humiliating to find that impressment +seemed to be necessary to teach him to use it for her advantage. +Many neighbouring young men, less fortunate than himself, had been +pressed and taken; and their absence seemed a reproach to him. He +went away by himself into the mill-roof, and, surrounded by the +corn-heaps, gave vent to self-condemnation. + +'Certainly, I am no man to lie here so long for the pleasure of +sighting that young girl forty times a day, and letting her sight +me--bless her eyes!--till I must needs want a press-gang to teach me +what I've forgot. And is it then all over with me as a British +sailor? We'll see.' + +When he was thrown under the influence of Anne's eyes again, which +were more tantalizingly beautiful than ever just now (so it seemed +to him), his intention of offering his services to the Government +would wax weaker, and he would put off his final decision till the +next day. Anne saw these fluctuations of his mind between love and +patriotism, and being terrified by what she had heard of sea-fights, +used the utmost art of which she was capable to seduce him from his +forming purpose. She came to him in the mill, wearing the very +prettiest of her morning jackets--the one that only just passed the +waist, and was laced so tastefully round the collar and bosom. Then +she would appear in her new hat, with a bouquet of primroses on one +side; and on the following Sunday she walked before him in +lemon-coloured boots, so that her feet looked like a pair of +yellow-hammers flitting under her dress. + +But dress was the least of the means she adopted for chaining him +down. She talked more tenderly than ever; asked him to begin small +undertakings in the garden on her account; she sang about the house, +that the place might seem cheerful when he came in. This singing +for a purpose required great effort on her part, leaving her +afterwards very sad. When Bob asked her what was the matter, she +would say, 'Nothing; only I am thinking how you will grieve your +father, and cross his purposes, if you carry out your unkind notion +of going to sea, and forsaking your place in the mill.' + +'Yes,' Bob would say uneasily. 'It will trouble him, I know.' + +Being also quite aware how it would trouble her, he would again +postpone, and thus another week passed away. + +All this time John had not come once to the mill. It appeared as if +Miss Johnson absorbed all his time and thoughts. Bob was often seen +chuckling over the circumstance. 'A sly rascal!' he said. +'Pretending on the day she came to be married that she was not good +enough for me, when it was only that he wanted her for himself. How +he could have persuaded her to go away is beyond me to say!' + +Anne could not contest this belief of her lover's, and remained +silent; but there had more than once occurred to her mind a doubt of +its probability. Yet she had only abandoned her opinion that John +had schemed for Matilda, to embrace the opposite error; that, +finding he had wronged the young lady, he had pitied and grown to +love her. + +'And yet Jack, when he was a boy, was the simplest fellow alive,' +resumed Bob. 'By George, though, I should have been hot against him +for such a trick, if in losing her I hadn't found a better! But +she'll never come down to him in the world: she has high notions +now. I am afraid he's doomed to sigh in vain!' + +Though Bob regretted this possibility, the feeling was not +reciprocated by Anne. It was true that she knew nothing of +Matilda's temporary treachery, and that she disbelieved the story of +her lack of virtue; but she did not like the woman. 'Perhaps it +will not matter if he is doomed to sigh in vain,' she said. 'But I +owe him no ill-will. I have profited by his doings, +incomprehensible as they are.' And she bent her fair eyes on Bob +and smiled. + +Bob looked dubious. 'He thinks he has affronted me, now I have seen +through him, and that I shall be against meeting him. But, of +course, I am not so touchy. I can stand a practical joke, as can +any man who has been afloat. I'll call and see him, and tell him +so.' + +Before he started, Bob bethought him of something which would still +further prove to the misapprehending John that he was entirely +forgiven. He went to his room, and took from his chest a packet +containing a lock of Miss Johnson's hair, which she had given him +during their brief acquaintance, and which till now he had quite +forgotten. When, at starting, he wished Anne goodbye, it was +accompanied by such a beaming face, that she knew he was full of an +idea, and asked what it might be that pleased him so. + +'Why, this,' he said, smacking his breast-pocket. 'A lock of hair +that Matilda gave me.' + +Anne sank back with parted lips. + +'I am going to give it to Jack--he'll jump for joy to get it! And +it will show him how willing I am to give her up to him, fine piece +as she is.' + +'Will you see her to-day, Bob?' Anne asked with an uncertain smile. + +'O no--unless it is by accident.' + +On reaching the outskirts of the town he went straight to the +barracks, and was lucky enough to find John in his room, at the +left-hand corner of the quadrangle. John was glad to see him; but +to Bob's surprise he showed no immediate contrition, and thus +afforded no room for the brotherly speech of forgiveness which Bob +had been going to deliver. As the trumpet-major did not open the +subject, Bob felt it desirable to begin himself. + +'I have brought ye something that you will value, Jack,' he said, as +they sat at the window, overlooking the large square barrack-yard. +'I have got no further use for it, and you should have had it before +if it had entered my head.' + +'Thank you, Bob; what is it?' said John, looking absently at an +awkward squad of young men who were drilling in the enclosure. + +''Tis a young woman's lock of hair.' + +'Ah!' said John, quite recovering from his abstraction, and slightly +flushing. Could Bob and Anne have quarrelled? Bob drew the paper +from his pocket, and opened it. + +'Black!' said John. + +'Yes--black enough.' + +'Whose?' + +'Why, Matilda's.' + +'O, Matilda's!' + +'Whose did you think then?' + +Instead of replying, the trumpet-major's face became as red as +sunset, and he turned to the window to hide his confusion. + +Bob was silent, and then he, too, looked into the court. At length +he arose, walked to his brother, and laid his hand upon his +shoulder. 'Jack,' he said, in an altered voice, 'you are a good +fellow. Now I see it all.' + +'O no--that's nothing,' said John hastily. + +'You've been pretending that you care for this woman that I mightn't +blame myself for heaving you out from the other--which is what I've +done without knowing it.' + +'What does it matter?' + +'But it does matter! I've been making you unhappy all these weeks +and weeks through my thoughtlessness. They seemed to think at home, +you know, John, that you had grown not to care for her; or I +wouldn't have done it for all the world!' + +'You stick to her, Bob, and never mind me. She belongs to you. She +loves you. I have no claim upon her, and she thinks nothing about +me.' + +'She likes you, John, thoroughly well; so does everybody; and if I +hadn't come home, putting my foot in it-- That coming home of mine +has been a regular blight upon the family! I ought never to have +stayed. The sea is my home, and why couldn't I bide there?' + +The trumpet-major drew Bob's discourse off the subject as soon as he +could, and Bob, after some unconsidered replies and remarks, seemed +willing to avoid it for the present. He did not ask John to +accompany him home, as he had intended; and on leaving the barracks +turned southward and entered the town to wander about till he could +decide what to do. + +It was the 3rd of September, but the King's watering-place still +retained its summer aspect. The royal bathing-machine had been +drawn out just as Bob reached Gloucester Buildings, and he waited a +minute, in the lack of other distraction, to look on. Immediately +that the King's machine had entered the water a group of florid men +with fiddles, violoncellos, a trombone, and a drum, came forward, +packed themselves into another machine that was in waiting, and were +drawn out into the waves in the King's rear. All that was to be +heard for a few minutes were the slow pulsations of the sea; and +then a deafening noise burst from the interior of the second machine +with power enough to split the boards asunder; it was the condensed +mass of musicians inside, striking up the strains of 'God save the +King,' as his Majesty's head rose from the water. Bob took off his +hat and waited till the end of the performance, which, intended as a +pleasant surprise to George III. by the loyal burghers, was possibly +in the watery circumstances tolerated rather than desired by that +dripping monarch. * + +* Vide Preface. + +Loveday then passed on to the harbour, where he remained awhile, +looking at the busy scene of loading and unloading craft and +swabbing the decks of yachts; at the boats and barges rubbing +against the quay wall, and at the houses of the merchants, some +ancient structures of solid stone, others green-shuttered with heavy +wooden bow-windows which appeared as if about to drop into the +harbour by their own weight. All these things he gazed upon, and +thought of one thing--that he had caused great misery to his brother +John. + +The town clock struck, and Bob retraced his steps till he again +approached the Esplanade and Gloucester Lodge, where the morning sun +blazed in upon the house fronts, and not a spot of shade seemed to +be attainable. A huzzaing attracted his attention, and he observed +that a number of people had gathered before the King's residence, +where a brown curricle had stopped, out of which stepped a hale man +in the prime of life, wearing a blue uniform, gilt epaulettes, +cocked hat, and sword, who crossed the pavement and went in. Bob +went up and joined the group. 'What's going on?' he said. + +'Captain Hardy,' replied a bystander. + +'What of him?' + +'Just gone in--waiting to see the King.' + +'But the captain is in the West Indies?' + +'No. The fleet is come home; they can't find the French anywhere.' + +'Will they go and look for them again?' asked Bob. + +'O yes. Nelson is determined to find 'em. As soon as he's refitted +he'll put to sea again. Ah, here's the King coming in.' + +Bob was so interested in what he had just heard that he scarcely +noticed the arrival of the King, and a body of attendant gentlemen. +He went on thinking of his new knowledge; Captain Hardy was come. +He was doubtless staying with his family at their small manor-house +at Pos'ham, a few miles from Overcombe, where he usually spent the +intervals between his different cruises. + +Loveday returned to the mill without further delay; and shortly +explaining that John was very well, and would come soon, went on to +talk of the arrival of Nelson's captain. + +'And is he come at last?' said the miller, throwing his thoughts +years backward. 'Well can I mind when he first left home to go on +board the Helena as midshipman!' + +'That's not much to remember. I can remember it too,' said Mrs. +Loveday. + +''Tis more than twenty years ago anyhow. And more than that, I can +mind when he was born; I was a lad, serving my 'prenticeship at the +time. He has been in this house often and often when 'a was young. +When he came home after his first voyage he stayed about here a long +time, and used to look in at the mill whenever he went past. "What +will you be next, sir?" said mother to him one day as he stood with +his back to the doorpost. "A lieutenant, Dame Loveday," says he. +"And what next?" says she. "A commander." "And next?" "Next, +post-captain." "And then?" "Then it will be almost time to die." +I'd warrant that he'd mind it to this very day if you were to ask +him.' + +Bob heard all this with a manner of preoccupation, and soon retired +to the mill. Thence he went to his room by the back passage, and +taking his old seafaring garments from a dark closet in the wall +conveyed them to the loft at the top of the mill, where he occupied +the remaining spare moments of the day in brushing the mildew from +their folds, and hanging each article by the window to get aired. +In the evening he returned to the loft, and dressing himself in the +old salt suit, went out of the house unobserved by anybody, and +ascended the road towards Captain Hardy's native village and present +temporary home. + +The shadeless downs were now brown with the droughts of the passing +summer, and few living things met his view, the natural rotundity of +the elevation being only occasionally disturbed by the presence of a +barrow, a thorn-bush, or a piece of dry wall which remained from +some attempted enclosure. By the time that he reached the village +it was dark, and the larger stars had begun to shine when he walked +up to the door of the old-fashioned house which was the family +residence of this branch of the South-Wessex Hardys. + +'Will the captain allow me to wait on him to-night?' inquired +Loveday, explaining who and what he was. + +The servant went away for a few minutes, and then told Bob that he +might see the captain in the morning. + +'If that's the case, I'll come again,' replied Bob, quite cheerful +that failure was not absolute. + +He had left the door but a few steps when he was called back and +asked if he had walked all the way from Overcombe Mill on purpose. + +Loveday replied modestly that he had done so. + +'Then will you come in?' He followed the speaker into a small study +or office, and in a minute or two Captain Hardy entered. + +The captain at this time was a bachelor of thirty-five, rather stout +in build, with light eyes, bushy eyebrows, a square broad face, +plenty of chin, and a mouth whose corners played between humour and +grimness. He surveyed Loveday from top to toe. + +'Robert Loveday, sir, son of the miller at Overcombe,' said Bob, +making a low bow. + +'Ah! I remember your father, Loveday,' the gallant seaman replied. +'Well, what do you want to say to me?' Seeing that Bob found it +rather difficult to begin, he leant leisurely against the +mantelpiece, and went on, 'Is your father well and hearty? I have +not seen him for many, many years.' + +'Quite well, thank 'ee.' + +'You used to have a brother in the army, I think? What was his +name--John? A very fine fellow, if I recollect.' + +'Yes, cap'n; he's there still.' + +'And you are in the merchant-service?' + +'Late first mate of the brig Pewit.' + +'How is it you're not on board a man-of-war?' + +'Ay, sir, that's the thing I've come about,' said Bob, recovering +confidence. 'I should have been, but 'tis womankind has hampered +me. I've waited and waited on at home because of a young woman-- +lady, I might have said, for she's sprung from a higher class of +society than I. Her father was a landscape painter--maybe you've +heard of him, sir? The name is Garland.' + +'He painted that view of our village here,' said Captain Hardy, +looking towards a dark little picture in the corner of the room. + +Bob looked, and went on, as if to the picture, 'Well, sir, I have +found that-- However, the press-gang came a week or two ago, and +didn't get hold of me. I didn't care to go aboard as a pressed +man.' + +'There has been a severe impressment. It is of course a +disagreeable necessity, but it can't be helped.' + +'Since then, sir, something has happened that makes me wish they had +found me, and I have come to-night to ask if I could enter on board +your ship the Victory.' + +The captain shook his head severely, and presently observed: 'I am +glad to find that you think of entering the service, Loveday; smart +men are badly wanted. But it will not be in your power to choose +your ship.' + +'Well, well, sir; then I must take my chance elsewhere,' said Bob, +his face indicating the disappointment he would not fully express. +''Twas only that I felt I would much rather serve under you than +anybody else, my father and all of us being known to ye, Captain +Hardy, and our families belonging to the same parts.' + +Captain Hardy took Bob's altitude more carefully. 'Are you a good +practical seaman?' he asked musingly. + +'Ay, sir; I believe I am.' + +'Active? Fond of skylarking?' + +'Well, I don't know about the last. I think I can say I am active +enough. I could walk the yard-arm, if required, cross from mast to +mast by the stays, and do what most fellows do who call themselves +spry.' + +The captain then put some questions about the details of navigation, +which Loveday, having luckily been used to square rigs, answered +satisfactorily. 'As to reefing topsails,' he added, 'if I don't do +it like a flash of lightning, I can do it so that they will stand +blowing weather. The Pewit was not a dull vessel, and when we were +convoyed home from Lisbon, she could keep well in sight of the +frigate scudding at a distance, by putting on full sail. We had +enough hands aboard to reef topsails man-o'-war fashion, which is a +rare thing in these days, sir, now that able seamen are so scarce on +trading craft. And I hear that men from square-rigged vessels are +liked much the best in the navy, as being more ready for use? So +that I shouldn't be altogether so raw,' said Bob earnestly, 'if I +could enter on your ship, sir. Still, if I can't, I can't.' + +'I might ask for you, Loveday,' said the captain thoughtfully, 'and +so get you there that way. In short, I think I may say I will ask +for you. So consider it settled.' + +'My thanks to you, sir,' said Loveday. + +'You are aware that the Victory is a smart ship, and that +cleanliness and order are, of necessity, more strictly insisted upon +there than in some others?' + +'Sir, I quite see it.' + +'Well, I hope you will do your duty as well on a line-of-battle ship +as you did when mate of the brig, for it is a duty that may be +serious.' + +Bob replied that it should be his one endeavour; and receiving a few +instructions for getting on board the guard-ship, and being conveyed +to Portsmouth, he turned to go away. + +'You'll have a stiff walk before you fetch Overcombe Mill this dark +night, Loveday,' concluded the captain, peering out of the window. +'I'll send you in a glass of grog to help 'ee on your way.' + +The captain then left Bob to himself, and when he had drunk the grog +that was brought in he started homeward, with a heart not exactly +light, but large with a patriotic cheerfulness, which had not +diminished when, after walking so fast in his excitement as to be +beaded with perspiration, he entered his father's door. + +They were all sitting up for him, and at his approach anxiously +raised their sleepy eyes, for it was nearly eleven o'clock. + +'There; I knew he'd not be much longer!' cried Anne, jumping up and +laughing, in her relief. 'They have been thinking you were very +strange and silent today, Bob; you were not, were you?' + +'What's the matter, Bob?' said the miller; for Bob's countenance was +sublimed by his recent interview, like that of a priest just come +from the penetralia of the temple. + +'He's in his mate's clothes, just as when he came home!' observed +Mrs. Loveday. + +They all saw now that he had something to tell. 'I am going away,' +he said when he had sat down. 'I am going to enter on board a +man-of-war, and perhaps it will be the Victory.' + +'Going?' said Anne faintly. + +'Now, don't you mind it, there's a dear,' he went on solemnly, +taking her hand in his own. 'And you, father, don't you begin to +take it to heart' (the miller was looking grave). 'The press-gang +has been here, and though I showed them that I was a free man, I am +going to show everybody that I can do my duty.' + +Neither of the other three answered, Anne and the miller having +their eyes bent upon the ground, and the former trying to repress +her tears. + +'Now don't you grieve, either of you,' he continued; 'nor vex +yourselves that this has happened. Please not to be angry with me, +father, for deserting you and the mill, where you want me, for I +MUST GO. For these three years we and the rest of the country have +been in fear of the enemy; trade has been hindered; poor folk made +hungry; and many rich folk made poor. There must be a deliverance, +and it must be done by sea. I have seen Captain Hardy, and I shall +serve under him if so be I can.' + +'Captain Hardy?' + +'Yes. I have been to his house at Pos'ham, where he's staying with +his sisters; walked there and back, and I wouldn't have missed it +for fifty guineas. I hardly thought he would see me; but he did see +me. And he hasn't forgot you.' + +Bob then opened his tale in order, relating graphically the +conversation to which he had been a party, and they listened with +breathless attention. + +'Well, if you must go, you must,' said the miller with emotion; 'but +I think it somewhat hard that, of my two sons, neither one of 'em +can be got to stay and help me in my business as I get old.' + +'Don't trouble and vex about it,' said Mrs. Loveday soothingly. +'They are both instruments in the hands of Providence, chosen to +chastise that Corsican ogre, and do what they can for the country in +these trying years.' + +'That's just the shape of it, Mrs. Loveday,' said Bob. + +'And he'll come back soon,' she continued, turning to Anne. 'And +then he'll tell us all he has seen, and the glory that he's won, and +how he has helped to sweep that scourge Buonaparty off the earth.' + +'When be you going, Bob?' his father inquired. + +'To-morrow, if I can. I shall call at the barracks and tell John as +I go by. When I get to Portsmouth--' + +A burst of sobs in quick succession interrupted his words; they came +from Anne, who till that moment had been sitting as before with her +hand in that of Bob, and apparently quite calm. Mrs. Loveday jumped +up, but before she could say anything to soothe the agitated girl +she had calmed herself with the same singular suddenness that had +marked her giving way. 'I don't mind Bob's going,' she said. 'I +think he ought to go. Don't suppose, Bob, that I want you to stay!' + +After this she left the apartment, and went into the little side +room where she and her mother usually worked. In a few moments Bob +followed her. When he came back he was in a very sad and emotional +mood. Anybody could see that there had been a parting of profound +anguish to both. + +'She is not coming back to-night,' he said. + +'You will see her to-morrow before you go?' said her mother. + +'I may or I may not,' he replied. 'Father and Mrs. Loveday, do you +go to bed now. I have got to look over my things and get ready; and +it will take me some little time. If you should hear noises you +will know it is only myself moving about.' + +When Bob was left alone he suddenly became brisk, and set himself to +overhaul his clothes and other possessions in a business-like +manner. By the time that his chest was packed, such things as he +meant to leave at home folded into cupboards, and what was useless +destroyed, it was past two o'clock. Then he went to bed, so softly +that only the creak of one weak stair revealed his passage upward. +At the moment that he passed Anne's chamber-door her mother was +bending over her as she lay in bed, and saying to her, 'Won't you +see him in the morning?' + +'No, no,' said Anne. 'I would rather not see him! I have said that +I may. But I shall not. I cannot see him again!' + +When the family got up next day Bob had vanished. It was his way to +disappear like this, to avoid affecting scenes at parting. By the +time that they had sat down to a gloomy breakfast, Bob was in the +boat of a Budmouth waterman, who pulled him alongside the guardship +in the roads, where he laid hold of the man-rope, mounted, and +disappeared from external view. In the course of the day the ship +moved off, set her royals, and made sail for Portsmouth, with five +hundred new hands for the service on board, consisting partly of +pressed men and partly of volunteers, among the latter being Robert +Loveday. + + + +XXXIV. A SPECK ON THE SEA + +In parting from John, who accompanied him to the quay, Bob had said: +'Now, Jack, these be my last words to you: I give her up. I go +away on purpose, and I shall be away a long time. If in that time +she should list over towards ye ever so little, mind you take her. +You have more right to her than I. You chose her when my mind was +elsewhere, and you best deserve her; for I have never known you +forget one woman, while I've forgot a dozen. Take her then, if she +will come, and God bless both of ye.' + +Another person besides John saw Bob go. That was Derriman, who was +standing by a bollard a little further up the quay. He did not +repress his satisfaction at the sight. John looked towards him with +an open gaze of contempt; for the cuffs administered to the yeoman +at the inn had not, so far as the trumpet-major was aware, produced +any desire to avenge that insult, John being, of course, quite +ignorant that Festus had erroneously retaliated upon Bob, in his +peculiar though scarcely soldierly way. Finding that he did not +even now approach him, John went on his way, and thought over his +intention of preserving intact the love between Anne and his +brother. + +He was surprised when he next went to the mill to find how glad they +all were to see him. From the moment of Bob's return to the bosom +of the deep Anne had had no existence on land; people might have +looked at her human body and said she had flitted thence. The sea +and all that belonged to the sea was her daily thought and her +nightly dream. She had the whole two-and-thirty winds under her +eye, each passing gale that ushered in returning autumn being +mentally registered; and she acquired a precise knowledge of the +direction in which Portsmouth, Brest, Ferrol, Cadiz, and other such +likely places lay. Instead of saying her own familiar prayers at +night she substituted, with some confusion of thought, the Forms of +Prayer to be used at sea. John at once noticed her lorn, abstracted +looks, pitied her,--how much he pitied her!--and asked when they +were alone if there was anything he could do. + +'There are two things,' she said, with almost childish eagerness in +her tired eyes. + +'They shall be done.' + +'The first is to find out if Captain Hardy has gone back to his +ship; and the other is--O if you will do it, John!--to get me +newspapers whenever possible.' + +After this duologue John was absent for a space of three hours, and +they thought he had gone back to barracks. He entered, however, at +the end of that time, took off his forage-cap, and wiped his +forehead. + +'You look tired, John,' said his father. + +'O no.' He went through the house till he had found Anne Garland. + +'I have only done one of those things,' he said to her. + +'What, already! I didn't hope for or mean to-day.' + +'Captain Hardy is gone from Pos'ham. He left some days ago. We +shall soon hear that the fleet has sailed.' + +'You have been all the way to Pos'ham on purpose? How good of you!' + +'Well, I was anxious to know myself when Bob is likely to leave. I +expect now that we shall soon hear from him.' + +Two days later he came again. He brought a newspaper, and what was +better, a letter for Anne, franked by the first lieutenant of the +Victory. + +'Then he's aboard her,' said Anne, as she eagerly took the letter. + +It was short, but as much as she could expect in the circumstances, +and informed them that the captain had been as good as his word, and +had gratified Bob's earnest wish to serve under him. The ship, with +Admiral Lord Nelson on board, and accompanied by the frigate +Euryalus, was to sail in two days for Plymouth, where they would be +joined by others, and thence proceed to the coast of Spain. + +Anne lay awake that night thinking of the Victory, and of those who +floated in her. To the best of Anne's calculation that ship of war +would, during the next twenty-four hours, pass within a few miles of +where she herself then lay. Next to seeing Bob, the thing that +would give her more pleasure than any other in the world was to see +the vessel that contained him--his floating city, his sole +dependence in battle and storm--upon whose safety from winds and +enemies hung all her hope. + +The morrow was market-day at the seaport, and in this she saw her +opportunity. A carrier went from Overcombe at six o'clock thither, +and having to do a little shopping for herself she gave it as a +reason for her intended day's absence, and took a place in the van. +When she reached the town it was still early morning, but the +borough was already in the zenith of its daily bustle and show. The +King was always out-of-doors by six o'clock, and such cock-crow +hours at Gloucester Lodge produced an equally forward stir among the +population. She alighted, and passed down the esplanade, as fully +thronged by persons of fashion at this time of mist and level +sunlight as a watering-place in the present day is at four in the +afternoon. Dashing bucks and beaux in cocked hats, black feathers, +ruffles, and frills, stared at her as she hurried along; the beach +was swarming with bathing women, wearing waistbands that bore the +national refrain, 'God save the King,' in gilt letters; the shops +were all open, and Sergeant Stanner, with his sword-stuck bank-notes +and heroic gaze, was beating up at two guineas and a crown, the +crown to drink his Majesty's health. + +She soon finished her shopping, and then, crossing over into the old +town, pursued her way along the coast-road to Portland. At the end +of an hour she had been rowed across the Fleet (which then lacked +the convenience of a bridge), and reached the base of Portland Hill. +The steep incline before her was dotted with houses, showing the +pleasant peculiarity of one man's doorstep being behind his +neighbour's chimney, and slabs of stone as the common material for +walls, roof, floor, pig-sty, stable-manger, door-scraper, and +garden-stile. Anne gained the summit, and followed along the +central track over the huge lump of freestone which forms the +peninsula, the wide sea prospect extending as she went on. Weary +with her journey, she approached the extreme southerly peak of rock, +and gazed from the cliff at Portland Bill, or Beal, as it was in +those days more correctly called. + +The wild, herbless, weather-worn promontory was quite a solitude, +and, saving the one old lighthouse about fifty yards up the slope, +scarce a mark was visible to show that humanity had ever been near +the spot. Anne found herself a seat on a stone, and swept with her +eyes the tremulous expanse of water around her that seemed to utter +a ceaseless unintelligible incantation. Out of the three hundred +and sixty degrees of her complete horizon two hundred and fifty were +covered by waves, the coup d'oeil including the area of troubled +waters known as the Race, where two seas met to effect the +destruction of such vessels as could not be mastered by one. She +counted the craft within her view: there were five; no, there were +only four; no, there were seven, some of the specks having resolved +themselves into two. They were all small coasters, and kept well +within sight of land. + +Anne sank into a reverie. Then she heard a slight noise on her left +hand, and turning beheld an old sailor, who had approached with a +glass. He was levelling it over the sea in a direction to the +south-east, and somewhat removed from that in which her own eyes had +been wandering. Anne moved a few steps thitherward, so as to +unclose to her view a deeper sweep on that side, and by this +discovered a ship of far larger size than any which had yet dotted +the main before her. Its sails were for the most part new and +clean, and in comparison with its rapid progress before the wind the +small brigs and ketches seemed standing still. Upon this striking +object the old man's glass was bent. + +'What do you see, sailor?' she asked. + +'Almost nothing,' he answered. 'My sight is so gone off lately that +things, one and all, be but a November mist to me. And yet I fain +would see to-day. I am looking for the Victory.' + +'Why,' she said quickly. + +'I have a son aboard her. He's one of three from these parts. +There's the captain, there's my son Ned, and there's young Loveday +of Overcombe--he that lately joined.' + +'Shall I look for you?' said Anne, after a pause. + +'Certainly, mis'ess, if so be you please.' + +Anne took the glass, and he supported it by his arm. 'It is a large +ship,' she said, 'with three masts, three rows of guns along the +side, and all her sails set.' + +'I guessed as much.' + +'There is a little flag in front--over her bowsprit.' + +'The jack.' + +'And there's a large one flying at her stern.' + +'The ensign.' + +'And a white one on her fore-topmast.' + +'That's the admiral's flag, the flag of my Lord Nelson. What is her +figure-head, my dear?' + +'A coat-of-arms, supported on this side by a sailor.' + +Her companion nodded with satisfaction. 'On the other side of that +figure-head is a marine.' + +'She is twisting round in a curious way, and her sails sink in like +old cheeks, and she shivers like a leaf upon a tree.' + +'She is in stays, for the larboard tack. I can see what she's been +doing. She's been re'ching close in to avoid the flood tide, as the +wind is to the sou'-west, and she's bound down; but as soon as the +ebb made, d'ye see, they made sail to the west'ard. Captain Hardy +may be depended upon for that; he knows every current about here, +being a native.' + +'And now I can see the other side; it is a soldier where a sailor +was before. You are SURE it is the Victory?' + +'I am sure.' + +After this a frigate came into view--the Euryalus--sailing in the +same direction. Anne sat down, and her eyes never left the ships. +'Tell me more about the Victory,' she said. + +'She is the best sailer in the service, and she carries a hundred +guns. The heaviest be on the lower deck, the next size on the +middle deck, the next on the main and upper decks. My son Ned's +place is on the lower deck, because he's short, and they put the +short men below.' + +Bob, though not tall, was not likely to be specially selected for +shortness. She pictured him on the upper deck, in his snow-white +trousers and jacket of navy blue, looking perhaps towards the very +point of land where she then was. + +The great silent ship, with her population of blue-jackets, marines, +officers, captain, and the admiral who was not to return alive, +passed like a phantom the meridian of the Bill. Sometimes her +aspect was that of a large white bat, sometimes that of a grey one. +In the course of time the watching girl saw that the ship had passed +her nearest point; the breadth of her sails diminished by +foreshortening, till she assumed the form of an egg on end. After +this something seemed to twinkle, and Anne, who had previously +withdrawn from the old sailor, went back to him, and looked again +through the glass. The twinkling was the light falling upon the +cabin windows of the ship's stern. She explained it to the old man. + +'Then we see now what the enemy have seen but once. That was in +seventy-nine, when she sighted the French and Spanish fleet off +Scilly, and she retreated because she feared a landing. Well, 'tis +a brave ship and she carries brave men!' + +Anne's tender bosom heaved, but she said nothing, and again became +absorbed in contemplation. + +The Victory was fast dropping away. She was on the horizon, and +soon appeared hull down. That seemed to be like the beginning of a +greater end than her present vanishing. Anne Garland could not stay +by the sailor any longer, and went about a stone's-throw off, where +she was hidden by the inequality of the cliff from his view. The +vessel was now exactly end on, and stood out in the direction of the +Start, her width having contracted to the proportion of a feather. +She sat down again, and mechanically took out some biscuits that she +had brought, foreseeing that her waiting might be long. But she +could not eat one of them; eating seemed to jar with the mental +tenseness of the moment; and her undeviating gaze continued to +follow the lessened ship with the fidelity of a balanced needle to a +magnetic stone, all else in her being motionless. + +The courses of the Victory were absorbed into the main, then her +topsails went, and then her top-gallants. She was now no more than +a dead fly's wing on a sheet of spider's web; and even this fragment +diminished. Anne could hardly bear to see the end, and yet she +resolved not to flinch. The admiral's flag sank behind the watery +line, and in a minute the very truck of the last topmast stole away. +The Victory was gone. + +Anne's lip quivered as she murmured, without removing her wet eyes +from the vacant and solemn horizon, '"They that go down to the sea +in ships, that do business in great waters--"' + +'"These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep,"' +was returned by a man's voice from behind her. + +Looking round quickly, she saw a soldier standing there; and the +grave eyes of John Loveday bent on her. + +''Tis what I was thinking,' she said, trying to be composed. + +'You were saying it,' he answered gently. + +'Was I?--I did not know it. . . . How came you here?' she presently +added. + +'I have been behind you a good while; but you never turned round.' + +'I was deeply occupied,' she said in an undertone. + +'Yes--I too came to see him pass. I heard this morning that Lord +Nelson had embarked, and I knew at once that they would sail +immediately. The Victory and Euryalus are to join the rest of the +fleet at Plymouth. There was a great crowd of people assembled to +see the admiral off; they cheered him and the ship as she dropped +down. He took his coffin on board with him, they say.' + +'His coffin!' said Anne, turning deadly pale. 'Something terrible, +then, is meant by that! O, why would Bob go in that ship? doomed to +destruction from the very beginning like this!' + +'It was his determination to sail under Captain Hardy, and under no +one else,' said John. 'There may be hot work; but we must hope for +the best.' And observing how wretched she looked, he added, 'But +won't you let me help you back? If you can walk as far as Hope Cove +it will be enough. A lerret is going from there across the bay +homeward to the harbour in the course of an hour; it belongs to a +man I know, and they can take one passenger, I am sure.' + +She turned her back upon the Channel, and by his help soon reached +the place indicated. The boat was lying there as he had said. She +found it to belong to the old man who had been with her at the Bill, +and was in charge of his two younger sons. The trumpet-major helped +her into it over the slippery blocks of stone, one of the young men +spread his jacket for her to sit on, and as soon as they pulled from +shore John climbed up the blue-grey cliff, and disappeared over the +top, to return to the mainland by road. + +Anne was in the town by three o'clock. The trip in the stern of the +lerret had quite refreshed her, with the help of the biscuits, which +she had at last been able to eat. The van from the port to +Overcombe did not start till four o'clock, and feeling no further +interest in the gaieties of the place, she strolled on past the +King's house to the outskirts, her mind settling down again upon the +possibly sad fate of the Victory when she found herself alone. She +did not hurry on; and finding that even now there wanted another +half-hour to the carrier's time, she turned into a little lane to +escape the inspection of the numerous passers-by. Here all was +quite lonely and still, and she sat down under a willow-tree, +absently regarding the landscape, which had begun to put on the rich +tones of declining summer, but which to her was as hollow and faded +as a theatre by day. She could hold out no longer; burying her face +in her hands, she wept without restraint. + +Some yards behind her was a little spring of water, having a stone +margin round it to prevent the cattle from treading in the sides and +filling it up with dirt. While she wept, two elderly gentlemen +entered unperceived upon the scene, and walked on to the spring's +brink. Here they paused and looked in, afterwards moving round it, +and then stooping as if to smell or taste its waters. The spring +was, in fact, a sulphurous one, then recently discovered by a +physician who lived in the neighbourhood; and it was beginning to +attract some attention, having by common report contributed to +effect such wonderful cures as almost passed belief. After a +considerable discussion, apparently on how the pool might be +improved for better use, one of the two elderly gentlemen turned +away, leaving the other still probing the spring with his cane. The +first stranger, who wore a blue coat with gilt buttons, came on in +the direction of Anne Garland, and seeing her sad posture went +quickly up to her, and said abruptly, 'What is the matter?' + +Anne, who in her grief had observed nothing of the gentlemen's +presence, withdrew her handkerchief from her eyes and started to her +feet. She instantly recognised her interrogator as the King. + +'What, what, crying?' his Majesty inquired kindly. 'How is this!' + +'I--have seen a dear friend go away, sir,' she faltered, with +downcast eyes. + +'Ah--partings are sad--very sad--for us all. You must hope your +friend will return soon. Where is he or she gone?' + +'I don't know, your Majesty.' + +'Don't know--how is that?' + +'He is a sailor on board the Victory.' + +'Then he has reason to be proud,' said the King with interest. 'He +is your brother?' + +Anne tried to explain what he was, but could not, and blushed with +painful heat. + +'Well, well, well; what is his name?' + +In spite of Anne's confusion and low spirits, her womanly shrewdness +told her at once that no harm could be done by revealing Bob's name; +and she answered, 'His name is Robert Loveday, sir.' + +'Loveday--a good name. I shall not forget it. Now dry your cheeks, +and don't cry any more. Loveday--Robert Loveday.' + +Anne curtseyed, the King smiled good-humouredly, and turned to +rejoin his companion, who was afterwards heard to be Dr. --, the +physician in attendance at Gloucester Lodge. This gentleman had in +the meantime filled a small phial with the medicinal water, which he +carefully placed in his pocket; and on the King coming up they +retired together and disappeared. Thereupon Anne, now thoroughly +aroused, followed the same way with a gingerly tread, just in time +to see them get into a carriage which was in waiting at the turning +of the lane. + +She quite forgot the carrier, and everything else in connexion with +riding home. Flying along the road rapidly and unconsciously, when +she awoke to a sense of her whereabouts she was so near to Overcombe +as to make the carrier not worth waiting for. She had been borne up +in this hasty spurt at the end of a weary day by visions of Bob +promoted to the rank of admiral, or something equally wonderful, by +the King's special command, the chief result of the promotion being, +in her arrangement of the piece, that he would stay at home and go +to sea no more. But she was not a girl who indulged in extravagant +fancies long, and before she reached home she thought that the King +had probably forgotten her by that time, and her troubles, and her +lover's name. + + + +XXXV. A SAILOR ENTERS + +The remaining fortnight of the month of September passed away, with +a general decline from the summer's excitements. The royal family +left the watering-place the first week in October, the German Legion +with their artillery about the same time. The dragoons still +remained at the barracks just out of the town, and John Loveday +brought to Anne every newspaper that he could lay hands on, +especially such as contained any fragment of shipping news. This +threw them much together; and at these times John was often awkward +and confused, on account of the unwonted stress of concealing his +great love for her. + +Her interests had grandly developed from the limits of Overcombe and +the town life hard by, to an extensiveness truly European. During +the whole month of October, however, not a single grain of +information reached her, or anybody else, concerning Nelson and his +blockading squadron off Cadiz. There were the customary bad jokes +about Buonaparte, especially when it was found that the whole French +army had turned its back upon Boulogne and set out for the Rhine. +Then came accounts of his march through Germany and into Austria; +but not a word about the Victory. + +At the beginning of autumn John brought news which fearfully +depressed her. The Austrian General Mack had capitulated with his +whole army. Then were revived the old misgivings as to invasion. +'Instead of having to cope with him weary with waiting, we shall +have to encounter This Man fresh from the fields of victory,' ran +the newspaper article. + +But the week which had led off with such a dreary piping was to end +in another key. On the very day when Mack's army was piling arms at +the feet of its conqueror, a blow had been struck by Bob Loveday and +his comrades which eternally shattered the enemy's force by sea. +Four days after the receipt of the Austrian news Corporal Tullidge +ran into the miller's house to inform him that on the previous +Monday, at eleven in the morning, the Pickle schooner, Lieutenant +Lapenotiere, had arrived at Falmouth with despatches from the fleet; +that the stage-coaches on the highway through Wessex to London were +chalked with the words 'Great Victory!' 'Glorious Triumph!' and so +on; and that all the country people were wild to know particulars. + +On Friday afternoon John arrived with authentic news of the battle +off Cape Trafalgar, and the death of Nelson. Captain Hardy was +alive, though his escape had been narrow enough, his shoe-buckle +having been carried away by a shot. It was feared that the Victory +had been the scene of the heaviest slaughter among all the ships +engaged, but as yet no returns of killed and wounded had been +issued, beyond a rough list of the numbers in some of the ships. + +The suspense of the little household in Overcombe Mill was great in +the extreme. John came thither daily for more than a week; but no +further particulars reached England till the end of that time, and +then only the meagre intelligence that there had been a gale +immediately after the battle, and that many of the prizes had been +lost. Anne said little to all these things, and preserved a +superstratum of calmness on her countenance; but some inner voice +seemed to whisper to her that Bob was no more. Miller Loveday drove +to Pos'ham several times to learn if the Captain's sisters had +received any more definite tidings than these flying reports; but +that family had heard nothing which could in any way relieve the +miller's anxiety. When at last, at the end of November, there +appeared a final and revised list of killed and wounded as issued by +Admiral Collingwood, it was a useless sheet to the Lovedays. To +their great pain it contained no names but those of officers, the +friends of ordinary seamen and marines being in those good old days +left to discover their losses as best they might. + +Anne's conviction of her loss increased with the darkening of the +early winter time. Bob was not a cautious man who would avoid +needless exposure, and a hundred and fifty of the Victory's crew had +been disabled or slain. Anybody who had looked into her room at +this time would have seen that her favourite reading was the office +for the Burial of the Dead at Sea, beginning 'We therefore commit +his body to the deep.' In these first days of December several of +the victorious fleet came into port; but not the Victory. Many +supposed that that noble ship, disabled by the battle, had gone to +the bottom in the subsequent tempestuous weather; and the belief was +persevered in till it was told in the town and port that she had +been seen passing up the Channel. Two days later the Victory +arrived at Portsmouth. + +Then letters from survivors began to appear in the public prints +which John so regularly brought to Anne; but though he watched the +mails with unceasing vigilance there was never a letter from Bob. +It sometimes crossed John's mind that his brother might still be +alive and well, and that in his wish to abide by his expressed +intention of giving up Anne and home life he was deliberately lax in +writing. If so, Bob was carrying out the idea too thoughtlessly by +half, as could be seen by watching the effects of suspense upon the +fair face of the victim, and the anxiety of the rest of the family. + +It was a clear day in December. The first slight snow of the season +had been sifted over the earth, and one side of the apple-tree +branches in the miller's garden was touched with white, though a few +leaves were still lingering on the tops of the younger trees. A +short sailor of the Royal Navy, who was not Bob, nor anything like +him, crossed the mill court and came to the door. The miller +hastened out and brought him into the room, where John, Mrs. +Loveday, and Anne Garland were all present. + +'I'm from aboard the Victory,' said the sailor. 'My name's Jim +Cornick. And your lad is alive and well.' + +They breathed rather than spoke their thankfulness and relief, the +miller's eyes being moist as he turned aside to calm himself; while +Anne, having first jumped up wildly from her seat, sank back again +under the almost insupportable joy that trembled through her limbs +to her utmost finger. + +'I've come from Spithead to Pos'ham,' the sailor continued, 'and now +I am going on to father at Budmouth.' + +'Ah!--I know your father,' cried the trumpet-major, 'old James +Cornick.' + +It was the man who had brought Anne in his lerret from Portland +Bill. + +'And Bob hasn't got a scratch?' said the miller. + +'Not a scratch,' said Cornick. + +Loveday then bustled off to draw the visitor something to drink. +Anne Garland, with a glowing blush on her face, had gone to the back +part of the room, where she was the very embodiment of sweet content +as she slightly swayed herself without speaking. A little tide of +happiness seemed to ebb and flow through her in listening to the +sailor's words, moving her figure with it. The seaman and John went +on conversing. + +'Bob had a good deal to do with barricading the hawse-holes afore we +were in action, and the Adm'l and Cap'n both were very much pleased +at how 'twas done. When the Adm'l went up the quarter-deck ladder, +Cap'n Hardy said a word or two to Bob, but what it was I don't know, +for I was quartered at a gun some ways off. However, Bob saw the +Adm'l stagger when 'a was wownded, and was one of the men who +carried him to the cockpit. After that he and some other lads +jumped aboard the French ship, and I believe they was in her when +she struck her flag. What 'a did next I can't say, for the wind had +dropped, and the smoke was like a cloud. But 'a got a good deal +talked about; and they say there's promotion in store for'n.' + +At this point in the story Jim Cornick stopped to drink, and a low +unconscious humming came from Anne in her distant corner; the faint +melody continued more or less when the conversation between the +sailor and the Lovedays was renewed. + +'We heard afore that the Victory was near knocked to pieces,' said +the miller. + +'Knocked to pieces? You'd say so if so be you could see her! Gad, +her sides be battered like an old penny piece; the shot be still +sticking in her wales, and her sails be like so many clap-nets: we +have run all the way home under jury topmasts; and as for her decks, +you may swab wi' hot water, and you may swab wi' cold, but there's +the blood-stains, and there they'll bide. . . . The Cap'n had a +narrow escape, like many o' the rest--a shot shaved his ankle like a +razor. You should have seen that man's face in the het o' battle, +his features were as if they'd been cast in steel.' + +'We rather expected a letter from Bob before this.' + +'Well,' said Jim Cornick, with a smile of toleration, 'you must make +allowances. The truth o't is, he's engaged just now at Portsmouth, +like a good many of the rest from our ship. . . . 'Tis a very nice +young woman that he's a courting of, and I make no doubt that she'll +be an excellent wife for him.' + +'Ah!' said Mrs. Loveday, in a warning tone. + +'Courting--wife?' said the miller. + +They instinctively looked towards Anne. Anne had started as if +shaken by an invisible hand, and a thick mist of doubt seemed to +obscure the intelligence of her eyes. This was but for two or three +moments. Very pale, she arose and went right up to the seaman. +John gently tried to intercept her, but she passed him by. + +'Do you speak of Robert Loveday as courting a wife?' she asked, +without the least betrayal of emotion. + +'I didn't see you, miss,' replied Cornick, turning. 'Yes, your +brother hev' his eye on a wife, and he deserves one. I hope you +don't mind?' + +'Not in the least,' she said, with a stage laugh. 'I am interested, +naturally. And what is she?' + +'A very nice young master-baker's daughter, honey. A very wise +choice of the young man's.' + +'Is she fair or dark?' + +'Her hair is rather light.' + +'I like light hair; and her name?' + +'Her name is Caroline. But can it be that my story hurts ye? If +so--' + +'Yes, yes,' said John, interposing anxiously. 'We don't care for +more just at this moment.' + +'We DO care for more!' said Anne vehemently. 'Tell it all, sailor. +That is a very pretty name, Caroline. When are they going to be +married?' + +'I don't know as how the day is settled,' answered Jim, even now +scarcely conscious of the devastation he was causing in one fair +breast. 'But from the rate the courting is scudding along at, I +should say it won't be long first.' + +'If you see him when you go back, give him my best wishes,' she +lightly said, as she moved away. 'And,' she added, with solemn +bitterness, 'say that I am glad to hear he is making such good use +of the first days of his escape from the Valley of the Shadow of +Death!' She went away, expressing indifference by audibly singing +in the distance-- + + 'Shall we go dance the round, the round, the round, + Shall we go dance the round?' + +'Your sister is lively at the news,' observed Jim Cornick. + +'Yes,' murmured John gloomily, as he gnawed his lower lip and kept +his eyes fixed on the fire. + +'Well,' continued the man from the Victory, 'I won't say that your +brother's intended ha'n't got some ballast, which is very lucky +for'n, as he might have picked up with a girl without a single +copper nail. To be sure there was a time we had when we got into +port! It was open house for us all!' And after mentally regarding +the scene for a few seconds Jim emptied his cup and rose to go. + +The miller was saying some last words to him outside the house, +Anne's voice had hardly ceased singing upstairs, John was standing +by the fireplace, and Mrs. Loveday was crossing the room to join her +daughter, whose manner had given her some uneasiness, when a noise +came from above the ceiling, as of some heavy body falling. Mrs. +Loveday rushed to the staircase, saying, 'Ah, I feared something!' +and she was followed by John. + +When they entered Anne's room, which they both did almost at one +moment, they found her lying insensible upon the floor. The +trumpet-major, his lips tightly closed, lifted her in his arms, and +laid her upon the bed; after which he went back to the door to give +room to her mother, who was bending over the girl with some +hartshorn. + +Presently Mrs. Loveday looked up and said to him, 'She is only in a +faint, John, and her colour is coming back. Now leave her to me; I +will be downstairs in a few minutes, and tell you how she is.' + +John left the room. When he gained the lower apartment his father +was standing by the chimney-piece, the sailor having gone. The +trumpet-major went up to the fire, and, grasping the edge of the +high chimney-shelf, stood silent. + +'Did I hear a noise when I went out?' asked the elder, in a tone of +misgiving. + +'Yes, you did,' said John. 'It was she, but her mother says she is +better now. Father,' he added impetuously, 'Bob is a worthless +blockhead! If there had been any good in him he would have been +drowned years ago!' + +'John, John--not too fast,' said the miller. 'That's a hard thing +to say of your brother, and you ought to be ashamed of it.' + +'Well, he tries me more than I can bear. Good God! what can a man +be made of to go on as he does? Why didn't he come home; or if he +couldn't get leave why didn't he write? 'Tis scandalous of him to +serve a woman like that!' + +'Gently, gently. The chap hev done his duty as a sailor; and though +there might have been something between him and Anne, her mother, in +talking it over with me, has said many times that she couldn't think +of their marrying till Bob had settled down in business with me. +Folks that gain victories must have a little liberty allowed 'em. +Look at the Admiral himself, for that matter.' + +John continued looking at the red coals, till hearing Mrs. Loveday's +foot on the staircase, he went to meet her. + +'She is better,' said Mrs. Loveday; 'but she won't come down again +to-day.' + +Could John have heard what the poor girl was moaning to herself at +that moment as she lay writhing on the bed, he would have doubted +her mother's assurance. 'If he had been dead I could have borne it, +but this I cannot bear!' + + + +XXXVI. DERRIMAN SEES CHANCES + +Meanwhile Sailor Cornick had gone on his way as far as the forking +roads, where he met Festus Derriman on foot. The latter, attracted +by the seaman's dress, and by seeing him come from the mill, at once +accosted him. Jim, with the greatest readiness, fell into +conversation, and told the same story as that he had related at the +mill. + +'Bob Loveday going to be married?' repeated Festus. + +'You all seem struck of a heap wi' that.' + +'No; I never heard news that pleased me more.' + +When Cornick was gone, Festus, instead of passing straight on, +halted on the little bridge and meditated. Bob, being now +interested elsewhere, would probably not resent the siege of Anne's +heart by another; there could, at any rate, be no further +possibility of that looming duel which had troubled the yeoman's +mind ever since his horse-play on Anne at the house on the down. To +march into the mill and propose to Mrs. Loveday for Anne before +John's interest could revive in her was, to this hero's thinking, +excellent discretion. + +The day had already begun to darken when he entered, and the +cheerful fire shone red upon the floor and walls. Mrs. Loveday +received him alone, and asked him to take a seat by the +chimney-corner, a little of the old hankering for him as a +son-in-law having permanently remained with her. + +'Your servant, Mrs. Loveday,' he said, 'and I will tell you at once +what I come for. You will say that I take time by the forelock when +I inform you that it is to push on my long-wished-for alliance wi' +your daughter, as I believe she is now a free woman again.' + +'Thank you, Mr. Derriman,' said the mother placably. 'But she is +ill at present. I'll mention it to her when she is better.' + +'Ask her to alter her cruel, cruel resolves against me, on the score +of--of my consuming passion for her. In short,' continued Festus, +dropping his parlour language in his warmth, 'I'll tell thee what, +Dame Loveday, I want the maid, and must have her.' + +Mrs. Loveday replied that that was very plain speaking. + +'Well, 'tis. But Bob has given her up. He never meant to marry +her. I'll tell you, Mrs. Loveday, what I have never told a soul +before. I was standing upon Budmouth Quay on that very day in last +September that Bob set sail, and I heard him say to his brother John +that he gave your daughter up.' + +'Then it was very unmannerly of him to trifle with her so,' said +Mrs. Loveday warmly. 'Who did he give her up to?' + +Festus replied with hesitation, 'He gave her up to John.' + +'To John? How could he give her up to a man already over head and +ears in love with that actress woman?' + +'O? You surprise me. Which actress is it?' + +'That Miss Johnson. Anne tells me that he loves her hopelessly.' + +Festus arose. Miss Johnson seemed suddenly to acquire high value as +a sweetheart at this announcement. He had himself felt a nameless +attractiveness in her, and John had done likewise. John crossed his +path in all possible ways. + +Before the yeoman had replied somebody opened the door, and the +firelight shone upon the uniform of the person they discussed. +Festus nodded on recognizing him, wished Mrs. Loveday good evening, +and went out precipitately. + +'So Bob told you he meant to break off with my Anne when he went +away?' Mrs. Loveday remarked to the trumpet-major. 'I wish I had +known of it before.' + +John appeared disturbed at the sudden charge. He murmured that he +could not deny it, and then hastily turned from her and followed +Derriman, whom he saw before him on the bridge. + +'Derriman!' he shouted. + +Festus started and looked round. 'Well, trumpet-major,' he said +blandly. + +'When will you have sense enough to mind your own business, and not +come here telling things you have heard by sneaking behind people's +backs?' demanded John hotly. 'If you can't learn in any other way, +I shall have to pull your ears again, as I did the other day!' + +'YOU pull my ears? How can you tell that lie, when you know 'twas +somebody else pulled 'em?' + +'O no, no. I pulled your ears, and thrashed you in a mild way.' + +'You'll swear to it? Surely 'twas another man?' + +'It was in the parlour at the public-house; you were almost in the +dark.' And John added a few details as to the particular blows, +which amounted to proof itself. + +'Then I heartily ask your pardon for saying 'twas a lie!' cried +Festus, advancing with extended hand and a genial smile. 'Sure, if +I had known 'TWAS you, I wouldn't have insulted you by denying it.' + +'That was why you didn't challenge me, then?' + +'That was it! I wouldn't for the world have hurt your nice sense of +honour by letting 'ee go unchallenged, if I had known! And now, you +see, unfortunately I can't mend the mistake. So long a time has +passed since it happened that the heat of my temper is gone off. I +couldn't oblige 'ee, try how I might, for I am not a man, +trumpet-major, that can butcher in cold blood--no, not I, nor you +neither, from what I know of 'ee. So, willy-nilly, we must fain let +it pass, eh?' + +'We must, I suppose,' said John, smiling grimly. 'Who did you think +I was, then, that night when I boxed you all round?' + +'No, don't press me,' replied the yeoman. 'I can't reveal; it would +be disgracing myself to show how very wide of the truth the mockery +of wine was able to lead my senses. We will let it be buried in +eternal mixens of forgetfulness.' + +'As you wish,' said the trumpet-major loftily. 'But if you ever +SHOULD think you knew it was me, why, you know where to find me?' +And Loveday walked away. + +The instant that he was gone Festus shook his fist at the evening +star, which happened to lie in the same direction as that taken by +the dragoon. + +'Now for my revenge! Duels? Lifelong disgrace to me if ever I +fight with a man of blood below my own! There are other remedies +for upper-class souls!. . . Matilda--that's my way.' + +Festus strode along till he reached the Hall, where Cripplestraw +appeared gazing at him from under the arch of the porter's lodge. +Derriman dashed open the entrance-hurdle with such violence that the +whole row of them fell flat in the mud. + +'Mercy, Maister Festus!' said Cripplestraw. '"Surely," I says to +myself when I see ye a-coming, "surely Maister Festus is fuming like +that because there's no chance of the enemy coming this year after +all."' + +'Cr-r-ripplestraw! I have been wounded to the heart,' replied +Derriman, with a lurid brow. + +'And the man yet lives, and you wants yer horse-pistols instantly? +Certainly, Maister F--' + +'No, Cripplestraw, not my pistols, but my new-cut clothes, my heavy +gold seals, my silver-topped cane, and my buckles that cost more +money than he ever saw! Yes, I must tell somebody, and I'll tell +you, because there's no other fool near. He loves her heart and +soul. He's poor; she's tip-top genteel, and not rich. I am rich, +by comparison. I'll court the pretty play-actress, and win her +before his eyes.' + +'Play-actress, Maister Derriman?' + +'Yes. I saw her this very day, met her by accident, and spoke to +her. She's still in the town--perhaps because of him. I can meet +her at any hour of the day-- But I don't mean to marry her; not I. +I will court her for my pastime, and to annoy him. It will be all +the more death to him that I don't want her. Then perhaps he will +say to me, "You have taken my one ewe lamb"--meaning that I am the +king, and he's the poor man, as in the church verse; and he'll beg +for mercy when 'tis too late--unless, meanwhile, I shall have tired +of my new toy. Saddle the horse, Cripplestraw, tomorrow at ten.' + +Full of this resolve to scourge John Loveday to the quick through +his passion for Miss Johnson, Festus came out booted and spurred at +the time appointed, and set off on his morning ride. + +Miss Johnson's theatrical engagement having long ago terminated, she +would have left the Royal watering-place with the rest of the +visitors had not matrimonial hopes detained her there. These had +nothing whatever to do with John Loveday, as may be imagined, but +with a stout, staid boat-builder in Cove Row by the quay, who had +shown much interest in her impersonations. Unfortunately this +substantial man had not been quite so attentive since the end of the +season as his previous manner led her to expect; and it was a great +pleasure to the lady to see Mr. Derriman leaning over the harbour +bridge with his eyes fixed upon her as she came towards it after a +stroll past her elderly wooer's house. + +'Od take it, ma'am, you didn't tell me when I saw you last that the +tooting man with the blue jacket and lace was yours devoted?' began +Festus. + +'Who do you mean?' In Matilda's ever-changing emotional interests, +John Loveday was a stale and unprofitable personality. + +'Why, that trumpet-major man.' + +'O! What of him?' + +'Come; he loves you, and you know it, ma'am.' + +She knew, at any rate, how to take the current when it served. So +she glanced at Festus, folded her lips meaningly, and nodded. + +'I've come to cut him out.' + +She shook her head, it being unsafe to speak till she knew a little +more of the subject. + +'What!' said Festus, reddening, 'do you mean to say that you think +of him seriously--you, who might look so much higher?' + +'Constant dropping will wear away a stone; and you should only hear +his pleading! His handsome face is impressive, and his manners are- +-O, so genteel! I am not rich; I am, in short, a poor lady of +decayed family, who has nothing to boast of but my blood and +ancestors, and they won't find a body in food and clothing!--I hold +the world but as the world, Derrimanio--a stage where every man must +play a part, and mine a sad one!' She dropped her eyes thoughtfully +and sighed. + +'We will talk of this,' said Festus, much affected. 'Let us walk to +the Look-out.' + +She made no objection, and said, as they turned that way, 'Mr. +Derriman, a long time ago I found something belonging to you; but I +have never yet remembered to return it.' And she drew from her +bosom the paper which Anne had dropped in the meadow when eluding +the grasp of Festus on that summer day. + +'Zounds, I smell fresh meat!' cried Festus when he had looked it +over. ''Tis in my uncle's writing, and 'tis what I heard him +singing on the day the French didn't come, and afterwards saw him +marking in the road. 'Tis something he's got hid away. Give me the +paper, there's a dear; 'tis worth sterling gold!' + +'Halves, then?' said Matilda tenderly. + +'Gad, yes--anything!' replied Festus, blazing into a smile, for she +had looked up in her best new manner at the possibility that he +might be worth the winning. They went up the steps to the summit of +the cliff, and dwindled over it against the sky. + + + +XXXVII. REACTION + +There was no letter from Bob, though December had passed, and the +new year was two weeks old. His movements were, however, pretty +accurately registered in the papers, which John still brought, but +which Anne no longer read. During the second week in December the +Victory sailed for Sheerness, and on the 9th of the following +January the public funeral of Lord Nelson took place in St. Paul's. + +Then there came a meagre line addressed to the family in general. +Bob's new Portsmouth attachment was not mentioned, but he told them +he had been one of the eight-and-forty seamen who walked two-and-two +in the funeral procession, and that Captain Hardy had borne the +banner of emblems on the same occasion. The crew was soon to be +paid off at Chatham, when he thought of returning to Portsmouth for +a few days to see a valued friend. After that he should come home. + +But the spring advanced without bringing him, and John watched Anne +Garland's desolation with augmenting desire to do something towards +consoling her. The old feelings, so religiously held in check, were +stimulated to rebelliousness, though they did not show themselves in +any direct manner as yet. + +The miller, in the meantime, who seldom interfered in such matters, +was observed to look meaningly at Anne and the trumpet-major from +day to day; and by-and-by he spoke privately to John. + +His words were short and to the point: Anne was very melancholy; +she had thought too much of Bob. Now 'twas plain that they had lost +him for many years to come. Well; he had always felt that of the +two he would rather John married her. Now John might settle down +there, and succeed where Bob had failed. 'So if you could get her, +my sonny, to think less of him and more of thyself, it would be a +good thing for all.' + +An inward excitement had risen in John; but he suppressed it and +said firmly-- + +'Fairness to Bob before everything!' + +'He hev forgot her, and there's an end on't.' + +'She's not forgot him.' + +'Well, well; think it over.' + +This discourse was the cause of his penning a letter to his brother. +He begged for a distinct statement whether, as John at first +supposed, Bob's verbal renunciation of Anne on the quay had been +only a momentary ebullition of friendship, which it would be cruel +to take literally; or whether, as seemed now, it had passed from a +hasty resolve to a standing purpose, persevered in for his own +pleasure, with not a care for the result on poor Anne. + +John waited anxiously for the answer, but no answer came; and the +silence seemed even more significant than a letter of assurance +could have been of his absolution from further support to a claim +which Bob himself had so clearly renounced. Thus it happened that +paternal pressure, brotherly indifference, and his own released +impulse operated in one delightful direction, and the trumpet-major +once more approached Anne as in the old time. + +But it was not till she had been left to herself for a full five +months, and the blue-bells and ragged-robins of the following year +were again making themselves common to the rambling eye, that he +directly addressed her. She was tying up a group of tall flowering +plants in the garden: she knew that he was behind her, but she did +not turn. She had subsided into a placid dignity which enabled her +when watched to perform any little action with seeming composure-- +very different from the flutter of her inexperienced days. + +'Are you never going to turn round?' he at length asked +good-humouredly. + +She then did turn, and looked at him for a moment without speaking; +a certain suspicion looming in her eyes, as if suggested by his +perceptible want of ease. + +'How like summer it is getting to feel, is it not?' she said. + +John admitted that it was getting to feel like summer: and, bending +his gaze upon her with an earnestness which no longer left any doubt +of his subject, went on to ask-- + +'Have you ever in these last weeks thought of how it used to be +between us?' + +She replied quickly, 'O, John, you shouldn't begin that again. I am +almost another woman now!' + +'Well, that's all the more reason why I should, isn't it?' + +Anne looked thoughtfully to the other end of the garden, faintly +shaking her head; 'I don't quite see it like that,' she returned. + +'You feel yourself quite free, don't you?' + +'QUITE free!' she said instantly, and with proud distinctness; her +eyes fell, and she repeated more slowly, 'Quite free.' Then her +thoughts seemed to fly from herself to him. 'But you are not?' + +'I am not?' + +'Miss Johnson!' + +'O--that woman! You know as well as I that was all make-up, and +that I never for a moment thought of her.' + +'I had an idea you were acting; but I wasn't sure.' + +'Well, that's nothing now. Anne, I want to relieve your life; to +cheer you in some way; to make some amends for my brother's bad +conduct. If you cannot love me, liking will be well enough. I have +thought over every side of it so many times--for months have I been +thinking it over--and I am at last sure that I do right to put it to +you in this way. That I don't wrong Bob I am quite convinced. As +far as he is concerned we be both free. Had I not been sure of that +I would never have spoken. Father wants me to take on the mill, and +it will please him if you can give me one little hope; it will make +the house go on altogether better if you can think o' me.' + +'You are generous and good, John,' she said, as a big round tear +bowled helter-skelter down her face and hat-strings. + +'I am not that; I fear I am quite the opposite,' he said, without +looking at her. 'It would be all gain to me-- But you have not +answered my question.' + +She lifted her eyes. 'John, I cannot!' she said, with a cheerless +smile. 'Positively I cannot. Will you make me a promise?' + +'What is it?' + +'I want you to promise first-- Yes, it is dreadfully unreasonable,' +she added, in a mild distress. 'But do promise!' + +John by this time seemed to have a feeling that it was all up with +him for the present. 'I promise,' he said listlessly. + +'It is that you won't speak to me about this for EVER so long,' she +returned, with emphatic kindliness. + +'Very good,' he replied; 'very good. Dear Anne, you don't think I +have been unmanly or unfair in starting this anew?' + +Anne looked into his face without a smile. 'You have been perfectly +natural,' she murmured. 'And so I think have I.' + +John, mournfully: 'You will not avoid me for this, or be afraid of +me? I will not break my word. I will not worry you any more.' + +'Thank you, John. You need not have said worry; it isn't that.' + +'Well, I am very blind and stupid. I have been hurting your heart +all the time without knowing it. It is my fate, I suppose. Men who +love women the very best always blunder and give more pain than +those who love them less.' + +Anne laid one of her hands on the other as she softly replied, +looking down at them, 'No one loves me as well as you, John; nobody +in the world is so worthy to be loved; and yet I cannot anyhow love +you rightly.' And lifting her eyes, 'But I do so feel for you that +I will try as hard as I can to think about you.' + +'Well, that is something,' he said, smiling. 'You say I must not +speak about it again for ever so long; how long?' + +'Now that's not fair,' Anne retorted, going down the garden, and +leaving him alone. + +About a week passed. Then one afternoon the miller walked up to +Anne indoors, a weighty topic being expressed in his tread. + +'I was so glad, my honey,' he began, with a knowing smile, 'to see +that from the mill-window last week.' He flung a nod in the +direction of the garden. + +Anne innocently inquired what it could be. + +'Jack and you in the garden together,' he continued laying his hand +gently on her shoulder and stroking it. 'It would so please me, my +dear little girl, if you could get to like him better than that +weathercock, Master Bob.' + +Anne shook her head; not in forcible negation, but to imply a kind +of neutrality. + +'Can't you? Come now,' said the miller. + +She threw back her head with a little laugh of grievance. 'How you +all beset me!' she expostulated. 'It makes me feel very wicked in +not obeying you, and being faithful--faithful to--' But she could +not trust that side of the subject to words. 'Why would it please +you so much?' she asked. + +'John is as steady and staunch a fellow as ever blowed a trumpet. +I've always thought you might do better with him than with Bob. Now +I've a plan for taking him into the mill, and letting him have a +comfortable time o't after his long knocking about; but so much +depends upon you that I must bide a bit till I see what your +pleasure is about the poor fellow. Mind, my dear, I don't want to +force ye; I only just ask ye.' + +Anne meditatively regarded the miller from under her shady eyelids, +the fingers of one hand playing a silent tattoo on her bosom. 'I +don't know what to say to you,' she answered brusquely, and went +away. + +But these discourses were not without their effect upon the +extremely conscientious mind of Anne. They were, moreover, much +helped by an incident which took place one evening in the autumn of +this year, when John came to tea. Anne was sitting on a low stool +in front of the fire, her hands clasped across her knee. John +Loveday had just seated himself on a chair close behind her, and +Mrs. Loveday was in the act of filling the teapot from the kettle +which hung in the chimney exactly above Anne. The kettle slipped +forward suddenly, whereupon John jumped from the chair and put his +own two hands over Anne's just in time to shield them, and the +precious knee she clasped, from the jet of scalding water which had +directed itself upon that point. The accidental overflow was +instantly checked by Mrs. Loveday; but what had come was received by +the devoted trumpet-major on the back of his hands. + +Anne, who had hardly been aware that he was behind her, started up +like a person awakened from a trance. 'What have you done to +yourself, poor John, to keep it off me!' she cried, looking at his +hands. + +John reddened emotionally at her words, 'It is a bit of a scald, +that's all,' he replied, drawing a finger across the back of one +hand, and bringing off the skin by the touch. + +'You are scalded painfully, and I not at all!' She gazed into his +kind face as she had never gazed there before, and when Mrs. Loveday +came back with oil and other liniments for the wound Anne would let +nobody dress it but herself. It seemed as if her coyness had all +gone, and when she had done all that lay in her power she still sat +by him. At his departure she said what she had never said to him in +her life before: 'Come again soon!' + +In short, that impulsive act of devotion, the last of a series of +the same tenor, had been the added drop which finally turned the +wheel. John's character deeply impressed her. His determined +steadfastness to his lode star won her admiration, the more +especially as that star was herself. She began to wonder more and +more how she could have so persistently held out against his +advances before Bob came home to renew girlish memories which had by +that time got considerably weakened. Could she not, after all, +please the miller, and try to listen to John? By so doing she would +make a worthy man happy, the only sacrifice being at worst that of +her unworthy self, whose future was no longer valuable. 'As for +Bob, the woman is to be pitied who loves him,' she reflected +indignantly, and persuaded herself that, whoever the woman might be, +she was not Anne Garland. + +After this there was something of recklessness and something of +pleasantry in the young girl's manner of making herself an example +of the triumph of pride and common sense over memory and sentiment. +Her attitude had been epitomized in her defiant singing at the time +she learnt that Bob was not leal and true. John, as was inevitable, +came again almost immediately, drawn thither by the sun of her first +smile on him, and the words which had accompanied it. And now +instead of going off to her little pursuits upstairs, downstairs, +across the room, in the corner, or to any place except where he +happened to be, as had been her custom hitherto, she remained seated +near him, returning interesting answers to his general remarks, and +at every opportunity letting him know that at last he had found +favour in her eyes. + +The day was fine, and they went out of doors, where Anne endeavoured +to seat herself on the sloping stone of the window-sill. + +'How good you have become lately,' said John, standing over her and +smiling in the sunlight which blazed against the wall. 'I fancy you +have stayed at home this afternoon on my account.' + +'Perhaps I have,' she said gaily-- + + '"Do whatever we may for him, dame, we cannot do too much! + For he's one that has guarded our land." + +'And he has done more than that: he has saved me from a dreadful +scalding. The back of your hand will not be well for a long time, +John, will it?' + +He held out his hand to regard its condition, and the next natural +thing was to take hers. There was a glow upon his face when he did +it: his star was at last on a fair way towards the zenith after its +long and weary declination. The least penetrating eye could have +perceived that Anne had resolved to let him woo, possibly in her +temerity to let him win. Whatever silent sorrow might be locked up +in her, it was by this time thrust a long way down from the light. + +'I want you to go somewhere with me if you will,' he said, still +holding her hand. + +'Yes? Where is it?' + +He pointed to a distant hill-side which, hitherto green, had within +the last few days begun to show scratches of white on its face. 'Up +there,' he said. + +'I see little figures of men moving about. What are they doing?' + +'Cutting out a huge picture of the king on horseback in the earth of +the hill. The king's head is to be as big as our mill-pond and his +body as big as this garden; he and the horse will cover more than an +acre. When shall we go?' + +'Whenever you please,' said she. + +'John!' cried Mrs. Loveday from the front door. 'Here's a friend +come for you.' + +John went round, and found his trusty lieutenant, Trumpeter Buck, +waiting for him. A letter had come to the barracks for John in his +absence, and the trumpeter, who was going for a walk, had brought it +along with him. Buck then entered the mill to discuss, if possible, +a mug of last year's mead with the miller; and John proceeded to +read his letter, Anne being still round the corner where he had left +her. When he had read a few words he turned as pale as a sheet, but +he did not move, and perused the writing to the end. + +Afterwards he laid his elbow against the wall, and put his palm to +his head, thinking with painful intentness. Then he took himself +vigorously in hand, as it were, and gradually became natural again. +When he parted from Anne to go home with Buck she noticed nothing +different in him. + +In barracks that evening he read the letter again. It was from Bob; +and the agitating contents were these:-- + +'DEAR JOHN,--I have drifted off from writing till the present time +because I have not been clear about my feelings; but I have +discovered them at last, and can say beyond doubt that I mean to be +faithful to my dearest Anne after all. The fact is, John, I've got +into a bit of a scrape, and I've a secret to tell you about it +(which must go no further on any account). On landing last autumn I +fell in with a young woman, and we got rather warm as folks do; in +short, we liked one another well enough for a while. But I have got +into shoal water with her, and have found her to be a terrible +take-in. Nothing in her at all--no sense, no niceness, all tantrums +and empty noise, John, though she seemed monstrous clever at first. +So my heart comes back to its old anchorage. I hope my return to +faithfulness will make no difference to you. But as you showed by +your looks at our parting that you should not accept my offer to +give her up--made in too much haste, as I have since found--I feel +that you won't mind that I have returned to the path of honour. I +dare not write to Anne as yet, and please do not let her know a word +about the other young woman, or there will be the devil to pay. I +shall come home and make all things right, please God. In the +meantime I should take it as a kindness, John, if you would keep a +brotherly eye upon Anne, and guide her mind back to me. I shall die +of sorrow if anybody sets her against me, for my hopes are getting +bound up in her again quite strong. Hoping you are jovial, as times +go, I am,--Your affectionate brother, ROBERT.' + +When the cold daylight fell upon John's face, as he dressed himself +next morning, the incipient yesterday's wrinkle in his forehead had +become permanently graven there. He had resolved, for the sake of +that only brother whom he had nursed as a baby, instructed as a +child, and protected and loved always, to pause in his procedure for +the present, and at least do nothing to hinder Bob's restoration to +favour, if a genuine, even though temporarily smothered, love for +Anne should still hold possession of him. But having arranged to +take her to see the excavated figure of the king, he started for +Overcombe during the day, as if nothing had occurred to check the +smooth course of his love. + + + +XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION + +'I am ready to go,' said Anne, as soon as he arrived. + +He paused as if taken aback by her readiness, and replied with much +uncertainty, 'Would it--wouldn't it be better to put it off till +there is less sun?' + +The very slightest symptom of surprise arose in her as she rejoined, +'But the weather may change; or had we better not go at all?' + +'O no!--it was only a thought. We will start at once.' + +And along the vale they went, John keeping himself about a yard from +her right hand. When the third field had been crossed they came +upon half-a-dozen little boys at play. + +'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' said the biggest +and rudest boy. + +'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' echoed all the +rude smaller boys in a chorus. + +The trumpet-major turned, and, after some running, succeeded in +smacking two of them with his switch, returning to Anne breathless. +'I am ashamed they should have insulted you so,' he said, blushing +for her. + +'They said no harm, poor boys,' she replied reproachfully. + +Poor John was dumb with perception. The gentle hint upon which he +would have eagerly spoken only one short day ago was now like fire +to his wound. + +They presently came to some stepping-stones across a brook. John +crossed first without turning his head, and Anne, just lifting the +skirt of her dress, crossed behind him. When they had reached the +other side a village girl and a young shepherd approached the brink +to cross. Anne stopped and watched them. The shepherd took a hand +of the young girl in each of his own, and walked backward over the +stones, facing her, and keeping her upright by his grasp, both of +them laughing as they went. + +'What are you staying for, Miss Garland?' asked John. + +'I was only thinking how happy they are,' she said quietly; and +withdrawing her eyes from the tender pair, she turned and followed +him, not knowing that the seeming sound of a passing bumble-bee was +a suppressed groan from John. + +When they reached the hill they found forty navvies at work removing +the dark sod so as to lay bare the chalk beneath. The equestrian +figure that their shovels were forming was scarcely intelligible to +John and Anne now they were close, and after pacing from the horse's +head down his breast to his hoof, back by way of the king's +bridle-arm, past the bridge of his nose, and into his cocked-hat, +Anne said that she had had enough of it, and stepped out of the +chalk clearing upon the grass. The trumpet-major had remained all +the time in a melancholy attitude within the rowel of his Majesty's +right spur. + +'My shoes are caked with chalk,' she said as they walked downwards +again; and she drew back her dress to look at them. 'How can I get +some of it cleared off?' + +'If you was to wipe them in the long grass there,' said John, +pointing to a spot where the blades were rank and dense, 'some of it +would come off.' Having said this, he walked on with religious +firmness. + +Anne raked her little feet on the right side, on the left side, over +the toe, and behind the heel; but the tenacious chalk held its own. +Panting with her exertion, she gave it up, and at length overtook +him. + +'I hope it is right now?' he said, looking gingerly over his +shoulder. + +'No, indeed!' said she. 'I wanted some assistance--some one to +steady me. It is so hard to stand on one foot and wipe the other +without support. I was in danger of toppling over, and so gave it +up.' + +'Merciful stars, what an opportunity!' thought the poor fellow while +she waited for him to offer help. But his lips remained closed, and +she went on with a pouting smile-- + +'You seem in such a hurry! Why are you in such a hurry? After all +the fine things you have said about--about caring so much for me, +and all that, you won't stop for anything!' + +It was too much for John. 'Upon my heart and life, my dea--' he +began. Here Bob's letter crackled warningly in his waistcoat pocket +as he laid his hand asseveratingly upon his breast, and he became +suddenly scaled up to dumbness and gloom as before. + +When they reached home Anne sank upon a stool outside the door, +fatigued with her excursion. Her first act was to try to pull off +her shoe--it was a difficult matter; but John stood beating with his +switch the leaves of the creeper on the wall. + +'Mother--David--Molly, or somebody--do come and help me pull off +these dirty shoes!' she cried aloud at last. 'Nobody helps me in +anything!' + +'I am very sorry,' said John, coming towards her with incredible +slowness and an air of unutterable depression. + +'O, I can do without YOU. David is best,' she returned, as the old +man approached and removed the obnoxious shoes in a trice. + +Anne was amazed at this sudden change from devotion to crass +indifference. On entering her room she flew to the glass, almost +expecting to learn that some extraordinary change had come over her +pretty countenance, rendering her intolerable for evermore. But it +was, if anything, fresher than usual, on account of the exercise. +'Well!' she said retrospectively. For the first time since their +acqaintance she had this week encouraged him; and for the first time +he had shown that encouragement was useless. 'But perhaps he does +not clearly understand,' she added serenely. + +When he next came it was, to her surprise, to bring her newspapers, +now for some time discontinued. As soon as she saw them she said, +'I do not care for newspapers.' + +'The shipping news is very full and long to-day, though the print is +rather small.' + +'I take no further interest in the shipping news,' she replied with +cold dignity. + +She was sitting by the window, inside the table, and hence when, in +spite of her negations, he deliberately unfolded the paper and began +to read about the Royal Navy she could hardly rise and go away. +With a stoical mien he read on to the end of the report, bringing +out the name of Bob's ship with tremendous force. + +'No,' she said at last, 'I'll hear no more! Let me read to you.' + +The trumpet-major sat down. Anne turned to the military news, +delivering every detail with much apparent enthusiasm. 'That's the +subject _I_ like!' she said fervently. + +'But--but Bob is in the navy now, and will most likely rise to be an +officer. And then--' + +'What is there like the army?' she interrupted. 'There is no +smartness about sailors. They waddle like ducks, and they only +fight stupid battles that no one can form any idea of. There is no +science nor stratagem in sea-fights--nothing more than what you see +when two rams run their heads together in a field to knock each +other down. But in military battles there is such art, and such +splendour, and the men are so smart, particularly the +horse-soldiers. O, I shall never forget what gallant men you all +seemed when you came and pitched your tents on the downs! I like +the cavalry better than anything I know; and the dragoons the best +of the cavalry--and the trumpeters the best of the dragoons!' + +'O, if it had but come a little sooner!' moaned John within him. He +replied as soon as he could regain self-command, 'I am glad Bob is +in the navy at last--he is so much more fitted for that than the +merchant-service--so brave by nature, ready for any daring deed. I +have heard ever so much more about his doings on board the Victory. +Captain Hardy took special notice that when he--' + +'I don't want to know anything more about it,' said Anne +impatiently; 'of course sailors fight; there's nothing else to do in +a ship, since you can't run away! You may as well fight and be +killed as be killed not fighting.' + +'Still it is his character to be careless of himself where the +honour of his country is concerned,' John pleaded. 'If you had only +known him as a boy you would own it. He would always risk his own +life to save anybody else's. Once when a cottage was afire up the +lane he rushed in for a baby, although he was only a boy himself, +and he had the narrowest escape. We have got his hat now with the +hole burnt in it. Shall I get it and show it to you?' + +'No--I don't wish it. It has nothing to do with me.' But as he +persisted in his course towards the door, she added, 'Ah! you are +leaving because I am in your way. You want to be alone while you +read the paper--I will go at once. I did not see that I was +interrupting you.' And she rose as if to retreat. + +'No, no! I would rather be interrupted by YOU than--O, Miss +Garland, excuse me! I'll just speak to father in the mill, now I am +here.' + +It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose unquestionable +gentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has been many times +insisted on in the course of this history) was usually the reverse +of a woman with a coming-on disposition; but, whether from pique at +his manner, or from wilful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, +or from coquettish maliciousness in reaction from long depression, +or from any other thing,--so it was that she would not let him go. + +'Trumpet-major,' she said, recalling him. + +'Yes?' he replied timidly. + +'The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it not?' She turned +and fixed her bewitching glance upon him. + +The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the point +where the organ of comparison merges in that of benevolence, +according to the phrenological theory of Gall. John, thus brought +to, endeavoured to look at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drake +fashion, so as to avoid dipping his own glance as far as to the +plane of his interrogator's eyes. 'It is untied,' he said, drawing +back a little. + +She came nearer, and asked, 'Will you tie it for me, please?' + +As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and assented. As her +head only reached to his fourth button she necessarily looked up for +his convenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he +would it was impossible to touch the ribbon without getting his +finger tips mixed with the curls of her forehead. + +'Your hand shakes--ah! you have been walking fast,' she said. + +'Yes--yes.' + +'Have you almost done it?' She inquiringly directed her gaze upward +through his fingers. + +'No--not yet,' he faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart +going like a flail. + +'Then be quick, please.' + +'Yes, I will, Miss Garland! B--B--Bob is a very good fel--' + +'Not that man's name to me!' she interrupted. + +John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the +rustling of the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among the +curls, and then touched her forehead. + +'O good God!' ejaculated the trumpet-major in a whisper, turning +away hastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting his face upon his +hand. + +'What's the matter, John?' said she. + +'I can't do it!' + +'What?' + +'Tie your cap-ribbon.' + +'Why not?' + +'Because you are so--Because I am clumsy, and never could tie a +bow.' + +'You are clumsy indeed,' answered Anne, and went away. + +After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he rated her +happiness as of meaner value than Bob's; since he had persisted in +his idea of giving Bob another chance when she had implied that it +was her wish to do otherwise. Could Miss Johnson have anything to +do with his firmness? An opportunity of testing him in this +direction occurred some days later. She had been up the village, +and met John at the mill-door. + +'Have you heard the news? Matilda Johnson is going to be married to +young Derriman.' + +Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his +features were searchingly exhibited. There was no change whatever +in them, unless it were that a certain light of interest kindled by +her question turned to complete and blank indifference. 'Well, as +times go, it is not a bad match for her,' he said, with a phlegm +which was hardly that of a lover. + +John on his part was beginning to find these temptations almost more +than he could bear. But being quartered so near to his father's +house it was unnatural not to visit him, especially when at any +moment the regiment might be ordered abroad, and a separation of +years ensue; and as long as he went there he could not help seeing +her. + +The year changed from green to gold, and from gold to grey, but +little change came over the house of Loveday. During the last +twelve months Bob had been occasionally heard of as upholding his +country's honour in Denmark, the West Indies, Gibraltar, Malta, and +other places about the globe, till the family received a short +letter stating that he had arrived again at Portsmouth. At +Portsmouth Bob seemed disposed to remain, for though some time +elapsed without further intelligence, the gallant seaman never +appeared at Overcombe. Then on a sudden John learnt that Bob's +long-talked-of promotion for signal services rendered was to be an +accomplished fact. The trumpet-major at once walked off to +Overcombe, and reached the village in the early afternoon. Not one +of the family was in the house at the moment, and John strolled +onwards over the hill towards Casterbridge, without much thought of +direction till, lifting his eyes, he beheld Anne Garland wandering +about with a little basket upon her arm. + +At first John blushed with delight at the sweet vision; but, +recalled by his conscience, the blush of delight was at once mangled +and slain. He looked for a means of retreat. But the field was +open, and a soldier was a conspicuous object: there was no escaping +her. + +'It was kind of you to come,' she said, with an inviting smile. + +'It was quite by accident,' he answered, with an indifferent laugh. +'I thought you was at home.' + +Anne blushed and said nothing, and they rambled on together. In the +middle of the field rose a fragment of stone wall in the form of a +gable, known as Faringdon Ruin; and when they had reached it John +paused and politely asked her if she were not a little tired with +walking so far. No particular reply was returned by the young lady, +but they both stopped, and Anne seated herself on a stone, which had +fallen from the ruin to the ground. + +'A church once stood here,' observed John in a matter-of-fact tone. + +'Yes, I have often shaped it out in my mind,' she returned. 'Here +where I sit must have been the altar.' + +'True; this standing bit of wall was the chancel end.' + +Anne had been adding up her little studies of the trumpet-major's +character, and was surprised to find how the brightness of that +character increased in her eyes with each examination. A kindly and +gentle sensation was again aroused in her. Here was a neglected +heroic man, who, loving her to distraction, deliberately doomed +himself to pensive shade to avoid even the appearance of standing in +a brother's way. + +'If the altar stood here, hundreds of people have been made man and +wife just there, in past times,' she said, with calm deliberateness, +throwing a little stone on a spot about a yard westward. + +John annihilated another tender burst and replied, 'Yes, this field +used to be a village. My grandfather could call to mind when there +were houses here. But the squire pulled 'em down, because poor folk +were an eyesore to him.' + +'Do you know, John, what you once asked me to do?' she continued, +not accepting the digression, and turning her eyes upon him. + +'In what sort of way?' + +'In the matter of my future life, and yours.' + +'I am afraid I don't.' + +'John Loveday!' + +He turned his back upon her for a moment, that she might not see his +face. 'Ah--I do remember,' he said at last, in a dry, small, +repressed voice. + +'Well--need I say more? Isn't it sufficient?' + +'It would be sufficient,' answered the unhappy man. 'But--' + +She looked up with a reproachful smile, and shook her head. 'That +summer,' she went on, 'you asked me ten times if you asked me once. +I am older now; much more of a woman, you know; and my opinion is +changed about some people; especially about one.' + +'O Anne, Anne!' he burst out as, racked between honour and desire, +he snatched up her hand. The next moment it fell heavily to her +lap. He had absolutely relinquished it half-way to his lips. + +'I have been thinking lately,' he said, with preternaturally sudden +calmness, 'that men of the military profession ought not to m--ought +to be like St. Paul, I mean.' + +'Fie, John; pretending religion!' she said sternly. 'It isn't that +at all. IT'S BOB!' + +'Yes!' cried the miserable trumpet-major. 'I have had a letter from +him to-day.' He pulled out a sheet of paper from his breast. +'That's it! He's promoted--he's a lieutenant, and appointed to a +sloop that only cruises on our own coast, so that he'll be at home +on leave half his time--he'll be a gentleman some day, and worthy of +you!' + +He threw the letter into her lap, and drew back to the other side of +the gable-wall. Anne jumped up from her seat, flung away the letter +without looking at it, and went hastily on. John did not attempt to +overtake her. Picking up the letter, he followed in her wake at a +distance of a hundred yards. + +But, though Anne had withdrawn from his presence thus precipitately, +she never thought more highly of him in her life than she did five +minutes afterwards, when the excitement of the moment had passed. +She saw it all quite clearly; and his self-sacrifice impressed her +so much that the effect was just the reverse of what he had been +aiming to produce. The more he pleaded for Bob, the more her +perverse generosity pleaded for John. To-day the crisis had come-- +with what results she had not foreseen. + +As soon as the trumpet-major reached the nearest pen-and-ink he +flung himself into a seat and wrote wildly to Bob:-- + +'DEAR ROBERT,--I write these few lines to let you know that if you +want Anne Garland you must come at once--you must come instantly, +and post-haste--OR SHE WILL BE GONE! Somebody else wants her, and +she wants him! It is your last chance, in the opinion of-- + 'Your faithful brother and well-wisher, + 'JOHN. +'P.S.--Glad to hear of your promotion. Tell me the day and I'll +meet the coach.' + + + +XXXIX. BOB LOVEDAY STRUTS UP AND DOWN + +One night, about a week later, two men were walking in the dark +along the turnpike road towards Overcombe, one of them with a bag in +his hand. + +'Now,' said the taller of the two, the squareness of whose shoulders +signified that he wore epaulettes, 'now you must do the best you can +for yourself, Bob. I have done all I can; but th'hast thy work cut +out, I can tell thee.' + +'I wouldn't have run such a risk for the world,' said the other, in +a tone of ingenuous contrition. 'But thou'st see, Jack, I didn't +think there was any danger, knowing you was taking care of her, and +keeping my place warm for me. I didn't hurry myself, that's true; +but, thinks I, if I get this promotion I am promised I shall +naturally have leave, and then I'll go and see 'em all. Gad, I +shouldn't have been here now but for your letter!' + +'You little think what risks you've run,' said his brother. +'However, try to make up for lost time.' + +'All right. And whatever you do, Jack, don't say a word about this +other girl. Hang the girl!--I was a great fool, I know; still, it +is over now, and I am come to my senses. I suppose Anne never +caught a capful of wind from that quarter?' + +'She knows all about it,' said John seriously. + +'Knows? By George, then, I'm ruined!' said Bob, standing +stock-still in the road as if he meant to remain there all night. + +'That's what I meant by saying it would be a hard battle for 'ee,' +returned John, with the same quietness as before. + +Bob sighed and moved on. 'I don't deserve that woman!' he cried +passionately, thumping his three upper ribs with his fist. + +'I've thought as much myself,' observed John, with a dryness which +was almost bitter. 'But it depends on how thou'st behave in +future.' + +'John,' said Bob, taking his brother's hand, 'I'll be a new man. I +solemnly swear by that eternal milestone staring at me there that +I'll never look at another woman with the thought of marrying her +whilst that darling is free--no, not if she be a mermaiden of light! +It's a lucky thing that I'm slipped in on the quarterdeck! it may +help me with her--hey?' + +'It may with her mother; I don't think it will make much difference +with Anne. Still, it is a good thing; and I hope that some day +you'll command a big ship.' + +Bob shook his head. 'Officers are scarce; but I'm afraid my luck +won't carry me so far as that.' + +'Did she ever tell you that she mentioned your name to the King?' + +The seaman stood still again. 'Never!' he said. 'How did such a +thing as that happen, in Heaven's name?' + +John described in detail, and they walked on, lost in conjecture. + +As soon as they entered the house the returned officer of the navy +was welcomed with acclamation by his father and David, with mild +approval by Mrs. Loveday, and by Anne not at all--that discreet +maiden having carefully retired to her own room some time earlier in +the evening. Bob did not dare to ask for her in any positive +manner; he just inquired about her health, and that was all. + +'Why, what's the matter with thy face, my son?' said the miller, +staring. 'David, show a light here.' And a candle was thrust +against Bob's cheek, where there appeared a jagged streak like the +geological remains of a lobster. + +'O--that's where that rascally Frenchman's grenade busted and hit me +from the Redoubtable, you know, as I told 'ee in my letter.' + +'Not a word!' + +'What, didn't I tell 'ee? Ah, no; I meant to, but I forgot it.' + +'And here's a sort of dint in yer forehead too; what do that mean, +my dear boy?' said the miller, putting his finger in a chasm in +Bob's skull. + +'That was done in the Indies. Yes, that was rather a troublesome +chop--a cutlass did it. I should have told 'ee, but I found 'twould +make my letter so long that I put it off, and put it off; and at +last thought it wasn't worth while.' + +John soon rose to take his departure. + +'It's all up with me and her, you see,' said Bob to him outside the +door. 'She's not even going to see me.' + +'Wait a little,' said the trumpet-major. It was easy enough on the +night of the arrival, in the midst of excitement, when blood was +warm, for Anne to be resolute in her avoidance of Bob Loveday. But +in the morning determination is apt to grow invertebrate; rules of +pugnacity are less easily acted up to, and a feeling of live and let +live takes possession of the gentle soul. Anne had not meant even +to sit down to the same breakfast-table with Bob; but when the rest +were assembled, and had got some way through the substantial repast +which was served at this hour in the miller's house, Anne entered. +She came silently as a phantom, her eyes cast down, her cheeks pale. +It was a good long walk from the door to the table, and Bob made a +full inspection of her as she came up to a chair at the remotest +corner, in the direct rays of the morning light, where she dumbly +sat herself down. + +It was altogether different from how she had expected. Here was +she, who had done nothing, feeling all the embarrassment; and Bob, +who had done the wrong, feeling apparently quite at ease. + +'You'll speak to Bob, won't you, honey?' said the miller after a +silence. To meet Bob like this after an absence seemed irregular in +his eyes. + +'If he wish me to,' she replied, so addressing the miller that no +part, scrap, or outlying beam whatever of her glance passed near the +subject of her remark. + +'He's a lieutenant, you know, dear,' said her mother on the same +side; 'and he's been dreadfully wounded.' + +'Oh?' said Anne, turning a little towards the false one; at which +Bob felt it to be time for him to put in a spoke for himself. + +'I am glad to see you,' he said contritely; 'and how do you do?' + +'Very well, thank you.' + +He extended his hand. She allowed him to take hers, but only to the +extent of a niggardly inch or so. At the same moment she glanced up +at him, when their eyes met, and hers were again withdrawn. + +The hitch between the two younger members of the household tended to +make the breakfast a dull one. Bob was so depressed by her +unforgiving manner that he could not throw that sparkle into his +stories which their substance naturally required; and when the meal +was over, and they went about their different businesses, the pair +resembled the two Dromios in seldom or never being, thanks to Anne's +subtle contrivances, both in the same room at the same time. + +This kind of performance repeated itself during several days. At +last, after dogging her hither and thither, leaning with a wrinkled +forehead against doorposts, taking an oblique view into the room +where she happened to be, picking up worsted balls and getting no +thanks, placing a splinter from the Victory, several bullets from +the Redoubtable, a strip of the flag, and other interesting relics, +carefully labelled, upon her table, and hearing no more about them +than if they had been pebbles from the nearest brook, he hit upon a +new plan. To avoid him she frequently sat upstairs in a window +overlooking the garden. Lieutenant Loveday carefully dressed +himself in a new uniform, which he had caused to be sent some days +before, to dazzle admiring friends, but which he had never as yet +put on in public or mentioned to a soul. When arrayed he entered +the sunny garden, and there walked slowly up and down as he had seen +Nelson and Captain Hardy do on the quarter-deck; but keeping his +right shoulder, on which his one epaulette was fixed, as much +towards Anne's window as possible. + +But she made no sign, though there was not the least question that +she saw him. At the end of half-an-hour he went in, took off his +clothes, and gave himself up to doubt and the best tobacco. + +He repeated the programme on the next afternoon, and on the next, +never saying a word within doors about his doings or his notice. + +Meanwhile the results in Anne's chamber were not uninteresting. She +had been looking out on the first day, and was duly amazed to see a +naval officer in full uniform promenading in the path. Finding it +to be Bob, she left the window with a sense that the scene was not +for her; then, from mere curiosity, peeped out from behind the +curtain. Well, he was a pretty spectacle, she admitted, relieved as +his figure was by a dense mass of sunny, close-trimmed hedge, over +which nasturtiums climbed in wild luxuriance; and if she could care +for him one bit, which she couldn't, his form would have been a +delightful study, surpassing in interest even its splendour on the +memorable day of their visit to the town theatre. She called her +mother; Mrs. Loveday came promptly. + +'O, it is nothing,' said Anne indifferently; 'only that Bob has got +his uniform.' + +Mrs. Loveday peeped out, and raised her hands with delight. 'And he +has not said a word to us about it! What a lovely epaulette! I +must call his father.' + +'No, indeed. As I take no interest in him I shall not let people +come into my room to admire him.' + +'Well, you called me,' said her mother. + +'It was because I thought you liked fine clothes. It is what I +don't care for.' + +Notwithstanding this assertion she again looked out at Bob the next +afternoon when his footsteps rustled on the gravel, and studied his +appearance under all the varying angles of the sunlight, as if fine +clothes and uniforms were not altogether a matter of indifference. +He certainly was a splendid, gentlemanly, and gallant sailor from +end to end of him; but then, what were a dashing presentment, a +naval rank, and telling scars, if a man was fickle-hearted? +However, she peeped on till the fourth day, and then she did not +peep. The window was open, she looked right out, and Bob knew that +he had got a rise to his bait at last. He touched his hat to her, +keeping his right shoulder forwards, and said, 'Good-day, Miss +Garland,' with a smile. + +Anne replied, 'Good-day,' with funereal seriousness; and the +acquaintance thus revived led to the interchange of a few words at +supper-time, at which Mrs. Loveday nodded with satisfaction. But +Anne took especial care that he should never meet her alone, and to +insure this her ingenuity was in constant exercise. There were so +many nooks and windings on the miller's rambling premises that she +could never be sure he would not turn up within a foot of her, +particularly as his thin shoes were almost noiseless. + +One fine afternoon she accompanied Molly in search of elderberries +for making the family wine which was drunk by Mrs. Loveday, Anne, +and anybody who could not stand the rougher and stronger liquors +provided by the miller. After walking rather a long distance over +the down they came to a grassy hollow, where elder-bushes in knots +of twos and threes rose from an uneven bank and hung their heads +towards the south, black and heavy with bunches of fruit. The charm +of fruit-gathering to girls is enhanced in the case of elderberries +by the inoffensive softness of the leaves, boughs, and bark, which +makes getting into the branches easy and pleasant to the most +indifferent climbers. Anne and Molly had soon gathered a basketful, +and sending the servant home with it, Anne remained in the bush +picking and throwing down bunch by bunch upon the grass. She was so +absorbed in her occupation of pulling the twigs towards her, and the +rustling of their leaves so filled her ears, that it was a great +surprise when, on turning her head, she perceived a similar movement +to her own among the boughs of the adjoining bush. + +At first she thought they were disturbed by being partly in contact +with the boughs of her bush; but in a moment Robert Loveday's face +peered from them, at a distance of about a yard from her own. Anne +uttered a little indignant 'Well!' recovered herself, and went on +plucking. Bob thereupon went on plucking likewise. + +'I am picking elderberries for your mother,' said the lieutenant at +last, humbly. + +'So I see.' + +'And I happen to have come to the next bush to yours.' + +'So I see; but not the reason why.' + +Anne was now in the westernmost branches of the bush, and Bob had +leant across into the eastern branches of his. In gathering he +swayed towards her, back again, forward again. + +'I beg pardon,' he said, when a further swing than usual had taken +him almost in contact with her. + +'Then why do you do it?' + +'The wind rocks the bough, and the bough rocks me.' She expressed +by a look her opinion of this statement in the face of the gentlest +breeze; and Bob pursued: 'I am afraid the berries will stain your +pretty hands.' + +'I wear gloves.' + +'Ah, that's a plan I should never have thought of. Can I help you?' + +'Not at all.' + +'You are offended: that's what that means.' + +'No,' she said. + +'Then will you shake hands?' + +Anne hesitated; then slowly stretched out her hand, which he took at +once. 'That will do,' she said, finding that he did not relinquish +it immediately. But as he still held it, she pulled, the effect of +which was to draw Bob's swaying person, bough and all, towards her, +and herself towards him. + +'I am afraid to let go your hand,' said that officer, 'for if I do +your spar will fly back, and you will be thrown upon the deck with +great violence.' + +'I wish you to let me go!' + +He accordingly did, and she flew back, but did not by any means +fall. + +'It reminds me of the times when I used to be aloft clinging to a +yard not much bigger than this tree-stem, in the mid-Atlantic, and +thinking about you. I could see you in my fancy as plain as I see +you now.' + +'Me, or some other woman!' retorted Anne haughtily. + +'No!' declared Bob, shaking the bush for emphasis, 'I'll protest +that I did not think of anybody but you all the time we were +dropping down channel, all the time we were off Cadiz, all the time +through battles and bombardments. I seemed to see you in the smoke, +and, thinks I, if I go to Davy's locker, what will she do?' + +'You didn't think that when you landed after Trafalgar.' + +'Well, now,' said the lieutenant in a reasoning tone; 'that was a +curious thing. You'll hardly believe it, maybe; but when a man is +away from the woman he loves best in the port--world, I mean--he can +have a sort of temporary feeling for another without disturbing the +old one, which flows along under the same as ever.' + +'I can't believe it, and won't,' said Anne firmly. + +Molly now appeared with the empty basket, and when it had been +filled from the heap on the grass, Anne went home with her, bidding +Loveday a frigid adieu. + +The same evening, when Bob was absent, the miller proposed that they +should all three go to an upper window of the house, to get a +distant view of some rockets and illuminations which were to be +exhibited in the town and harbour in honour of the King, who had +returned this year as usual. They accordingly went upstairs to an +empty attic, placed chairs against the window, and put out the +light; Anne sitting in the middle, her mother close by, and the +miller behind, smoking. No sign of any pyrotechnic display was +visible over the port as yet, and Mrs. Loveday passed the time by +talking to the miller, who replied in monosyllables. While this was +going on Anne fancied that she heard some one approach, and +presently felt sure that Bob was drawing near her in the surrounding +darkness; but as the other two had noticed nothing she said not a +word. + +All at once the swarthy expanse of southward sky was broken by the +blaze of several rockets simultaneously ascending from different +ships in the roads. At the very same moment a warm mysterious hand +slipped round her own, and gave it a gentle squeeze. + +'O dear!' said Anne, with a sudden start away. + +'How nervous you are, child, to be startled by fireworks so far +off,' said Mrs. Loveday. + +'I never saw rockets before,' murmured Anne, recovering from her +surprise. + +Mrs. Loveday presently spoke again. 'I wonder what has become of +Bob?' + +Anne did not reply, being much exercised in trying to get her hand +away from the one that imprisoned it; and whatever the miller +thought he kept to himself, because it disturbed his smoking to +speak. + +Another batch of rockets went up. 'O I never!' said Anne, in a +half-suppressed tone, springing in her chair. A second hand had +with the rise of the rockets leapt round her waist. + +'Poor girl, you certainly must have change of scene at this rate,' +said Mrs. Loveday. + +'I suppose I must,' murmured the dutiful daughter. + +For some minutes nothing further occurred to disturb Anne's +serenity. Then a slow, quiet 'a-hem' came from the obscurity of the +apartment. + +'What, Bob? How long have you been there?' inquired Mrs. Loveday. + +'Not long,' said the lieutenant coolly. 'I heard you were all here, +and crept up quietly, not to disturb ye.' + +'Why don't you wear heels to your shoes like Christian people, and +not creep about so like a cat?' + +'Well, it keeps your floors clean to go slip-shod.' + +'That's true.' + +Meanwhile Anne was gently but firmly trying to pull Bob's arm from +her waist, her distressful difficulty being that in freeing her +waist she enslaved her hand, and in getting her hand free she +enslaved her waist. Finding the struggle a futile one, owing to the +invisibility of her antagonist, and her wish to keep its nature +secret from the other two, she arose, and saying that she did not +care to see any more, felt her way downstairs. Bob followed, +leaving Loveday and his wife to themselves. + +'Dear Anne,' he began, when he had got down, and saw her in the +candle-light of the large room. But she adroitly passed out at the +other door, at which he took a candle and followed her to the small +room. 'Dear Anne, do let me speak,' he repeated, as soon as the +rays revealed her figure. But she passed into the bakehouse before +he could say more; whereupon he perseveringly did the same. Looking +round for her here he perceived her at the end of the room, where +there were no means of exit whatever. + +'Dear Anne,' he began again, setting down the candle, 'you must try +to forgive me; really you must. I love you the best of anybody in +the wide, wide world. Try to forgive me; come!' And he imploringly +took her hand. + +Anne's bosom began to surge and fall like a small tide, her eyes +remaining fixed upon the floor; till, when Loveday ventured to draw +her slightly towards him, she burst out crying. 'I don't like you, +Bob; I don't!' she suddenly exclaimed between her sobs. 'I did +once, but I don't now--I can't, I can't; you have been very cruel to +me!' She violently turned away, weeping. + +'I have, I have been terribly bad, I know,' answered Bob, +conscience-stricken by her grief. 'But--if you could only forgive +me--I promise that I'll never do anything to grieve 'ee again. Do +you forgive me, Anne?' + +Anne's only reply was crying and shaking her head. + +'Let's make it up. Come, say we have made it up, dear.' + +She withdrew her hand, and still keeping her eyes buried in her +handkerchief, said 'No.' + +'Very well, then!' exclaimed Bob, with sudden determination. 'Now I +know my doom! And whatever you hear of as happening to me, mind +this, you cruel girl, that it is all your causing!' Saying this he +strode with a hasty tread across the room into the passage and out +at the door, slamming it loudly behind him. + +Anne suddenly looked up from her handkerchief, and stared with round +wet eyes and parted lips at the door by which he had gone. Having +remained with suspended breath in this attitude for a few seconds +she turned round, bent her head upon the table, and burst out +weeping anew with thrice the violence of the former time. It really +seemed now as if her grief would overwhelm her, all the emotions +which had been suppressed, bottled up, and concealed since Bob's +return having made themselves a sluice at last. + +But such things have their end; and left to herself in the large, +vacant, old apartment, she grew quieter, and at last calm. At +length she took the candle and ascended to her bedroom, where she +bathed her eyes and looked in the glass to see if she had made +herself a dreadful object. It was not so bad as she had expected, +and she went downstairs again. + +Nobody was there, and, sitting down, she wondered what Bob had +really meant by his words. It was too dreadful to think that he +intended to go straight away to sea without seeing her again, and +frightened at what she had done she waited anxiously for his return. + + + +XL. A CALL ON BUSINESS + +Her suspense was interrupted by a very gentle tapping at the door, +and then the rustle of a hand over its surface, as if searching for +the latch in the dark. The door opened a few inches, and the +alabaster face of Uncle Benjy appeared in the slit. + +'O, Squire Derriman, you frighten me!' + +'All alone?' he asked in a whisper. + +'My mother and Mr. Loveday are somewhere about the house.' + +'That will do,' he said, coming forward. 'I be wherrited out of my +life, and I have thought of you again--you yourself, dear Anne, and +not the miller. If you will only take this and lock it up for a few +days till I can find another good place for it--if you only would!' +And he breathlessly deposited the tin box on the table. + +'What, obliged to dig it up from the cellar?' + +'Ay; my nephew hath a scent of the place--how, I don't know! but he +and a young woman he's met with are searching everywhere. I worked +like a wire-drawer to get it up and away while they were scraping in +the next cellar. Now where could ye put it, dear? 'Tis only a few +documents, and my will, and such like, you know. Poor soul o' me, +I'm worn out with running and fright!' + +'I'll put it here till I can think of a better place,' said Anne, +lifting the box. 'Dear me, how heavy it is!' + +'Yes, yes,' said Uncle Benjy hastily; 'the box is iron, you see. +However, take care of it, because I am going to make it worth your +while. Ah, you are a good girl, Anne. I wish you was mine!' + +Anne looked at Uncle Benjy. She had known for some time that she +possessed all the affection he had to bestow. + +'Why do you wish that?' she said simply. + +'Now don't ye argue with me. Where d'ye put the coffer?' + +'Here,' said Anne, going to the window-seat, which rose as a flap, +disclosing a boxed receptacle beneath, as in many old houses. + +''Tis very well for the present,' he said dubiously, and they +dropped the coffer in, Anne locking down the seat, and giving him +the key. 'Now I don't want ye to be on my side for nothing,' he +went on. 'I never did now, did I? This is for you.' He handed her +a little packet of paper, which Anne turned over and looked at +curiously. 'I always meant to do it,' continued Uncle Benjy, gazing +at the packet as it lay in her hand, and sighing. 'Come, open it, +my dear; I always meant to do it!' + +She opened it and found twenty new guineas snugly packed within. + +'Yes, they are for you. I always meant to do it!' he said, sighing +again. + +'But you owe me nothing!' returned Anne, holding them out. + +'Don't say it!' cried Uncle Benjy, covering his eyes. 'Put 'em +away. . . . Well, if you DON'T want 'em--But put 'em away, dear +Anne; they are for you, because you have kept my counsel. +Good-night t'ye. Yes, they are for you.' + +He went a few steps, and turning back added anxiously, 'You won't +spend 'em in clothes, or waste 'em in fairings, or ornaments of any +kind, my dear girl?' + +'I will not,' said Anne. 'I wish you would have them.' + +'No, no,' said Uncle Benjy, rushing off to escape their shine. But +he had got no further than the passage when he returned again. + +'And you won't lend 'em to anybody, or put 'em into the bank--for no +bank is safe in these troublous times?. . . If I was you I'd keep +them EXACTLY as they be, and not spend 'em on any account. Shall I +lock them into my box for ye?' + +'Certainly,' said she; and the farmer rapidly unlocked the +window-bench, opened the box, and locked them in. + +''Tis much the best plan,' he said with great satisfaction as he +returned the keys to his pocket. 'There they will always be safe, +you see, and you won't be exposed to temptation.' + +When the old man had been gone a few minutes, the miller and his +wife came in, quite unconscious of all that had passed. Anne's +anxiety about Bob was again uppermost now, and she spoke but +meagrely of old Derriman's visit, and nothing of what he had left. +She would fain have asked them if they knew where Bob was, but that +she did not wish to inform them of the rupture. She was forced to +admit to herself that she had somewhat tried his patience, and that +impulsive men had been known to do dark things with themselves at +such times. + +They sat down to supper, the clock ticked rapidly on, and at length +the miller said, 'Bob is later than usual. Where can he be?' + +As they both looked at her, she could no longer keep the secret. + +'It is my fault,' she cried; 'I have driven him away! What shall I +do?' + +The nature of the quarrel was at once guessed, and her two elders +said no more. Anne rose and went to the front door, where she +listened for every sound with a palpitating heart. Then she went +in; then she went out: and on one occasion she heard the miller +say, 'I wonder what hath passed between Bob and Anne. I hope the +chap will come home.' + +Just about this time light footsteps were heard without, and Bob +bounced into the passage. Anne, who stood back in the dark while he +passed, followed him into the room, where her mother and the miller +were on the point of retiring to bed, candle in hand. + +'I have kept ye up, I fear,' began Bob cheerily, and apparently +without the faintest recollection of his tragic exit from the house. +'But the truth on't is, I met with Fess Derriman at the "Duke of +York" as I went from here, and there we have been playing Put ever +since, not noticing how the time was going. I haven't had a good +chat with the fellow for years and years, and really he is an out +and out good comrade--a regular hearty! Poor fellow, he's been very +badly used. I never heard the rights of the story till now; but it +seems that old uncle of his treats him shamefully. He has been +hiding away his money, so that poor Fess might not have a farthing, +till at last the young man has turned, like any other worm, and is +now determined to ferret out what he has done with it. The poor +young chap hadn't a farthing of ready money till I lent him a couple +of guineas--a thing I never did more willingly in my life. But the +man was very honourable. "No; no," says he, "don't let me deprive +ye." He's going to marry, and what may you think he is going to do +it for?' + +'For love, I hope,' said Anne's mother. + +'For money, I suppose, since he's so short,' said the miller. + +'No,' said Bob, 'for SPITE. He has been badly served--deuced badly +served--by a woman. I never heard of a more heartless case in my +life. The poor chap wouldn't mention names, but it seems this young +woman has trifled with him in all manner of cruel ways--pushed him +into the river, tried to steal his horse when he was called out to +defend his country--in short, served him rascally. So I gave him +the two guineas and said, "Now let's drink to the hussy's +downfall!"' + +'O!' said Anne, having approached behind him. + +Bob turned and saw her, and at the same moment Mr. and Mrs. Loveday +discreetly retired by the other door. + +'Is it peace?' he asked tenderly. + +'O yes,' she anxiously replied. 'I--didn't mean to make you think I +had no heart.' At this Bob inclined his countenance towards hers. +'No,' she said, smiling through two incipient tears as she drew +back. 'You are to show good behaviour for six months, and you must +promise not to frighten me again by running off when I--show you how +badly you have served me.' + +'I am yours obedient--in anything,' cried Bob. 'But am I pardoned?' + +Youth is foolish; and does a woman often let her reasoning in favour +of the worthier stand in the way of her perverse desire for the less +worthy at such times as these? She murmured some soft words, ending +with 'Do you repent?' + +It would be superfluous to transcribe Bob's answer. + +Footsteps were heard without. + +'O begad; I forgot!' said Bob. 'He's waiting out there for a +light.' + +'Who?' + +'My friend Derriman.' + +'But, Bob, I have to explain.' + +But Festus had by this time entered the lobby, and Anne, with a +hasty 'Get rid of him at once!' vanished upstairs. + +Here she waited and waited, but Festus did not seem inclined to +depart; and at last, foreboding some collision of interests from +Bob's new friendship for this man, she crept into a storeroom which +was over the apartment into which Loveday and Festus had gone. By +looking through a knot-hole in the floor it was easy to command a +view of the room beneath, this being unceiled, with moulded beams +and rafters. + +Festus had sat down on the hollow window-bench, and was continuing +the statement of his wrongs. 'If he only knew what he was sitting +upon,' she thought apprehensively, 'how easily he could tear up the +flap, lock and all, with his strong arm, and seize upon poor Uncle +Benjy's possessions!' But he did not appear to know, unless he were +acting, which was just possible. After a while he rose, and going +to the table lifted the candle to light his pipe. At the moment +when the flame began diving into the bowl the door noiselessly +opened and a figure slipped across the room to the window-bench, +hastily unlocked it, withdrew the box, and beat a retreat. Anne in +a moment recognized the ghostly intruder as Festus Derriman's uncle. +Before he could get out of the room Festus set down the candle and +turned. + +'What--Uncle Benjy--haw, haw! Here at this time of night?' + +Uncle Benjy's eyes grew paralyzed, and his mouth opened and shut +like a frog's in a drought, the action producing no sound. + +'What have we got here--a tin box--the box of boxes? Why, I'll +carry it for 'ee, uncle!--I am going home.' + +'N--no--no, thanky, Festus: it is n--n--not heavy at all, thanky,' +gasped the squireen. + +'O but I must,' said Festus, pulling at the box. + +'Don't let him have it, Bob!' screamed the excited Anne through the +hole in the floor. + +'No, don't let him!' cried the uncle. ''Tis a plot--there's a woman +at the window waiting to help him!' + +Anne's eyes flew to the window, and she saw Matilda's face pressed +against the pane. + +Bob, though he did not know whence Anne's command proceeded obeyed +with alacrity, pulled the box from the two relatives, and placed it +on the table beside him. + +'Now, look here, hearties; what's the meaning o' this?' he said. + +'He's trying to rob me of all I possess!' cried the old man. 'My +heart-strings seem as if they were going crack, crack, crack!' + +At this instant the miller in his shirt-sleeves entered the room, +having got thus far in his undressing when he heard the noise. Bob +and Festus turned to him to explain; and when the latter had had his +say Bob added, 'Well, all I know is that this box'--here he +stretched out his hand to lay it upon the lid for emphasis. But as +nothing but thin air met his fingers where the box had been, he +turned, and found that the box was gone, Uncle Benjy having vanished +also. + +Festus, with an imprecation, hastened to the door, but though the +night was not dark Farmer Derriman and his burden were nowhere to be +seen. On the bridge Festus joined a shadowy female form, and they +went along the road together, followed for some distance by Bob, +lest they should meet with and harm the old man. But the precaution +was unnecessary: nowhere on the road was there any sign of Farmer +Derriman, or of the box that belonged to him. When Bob re-entered +the house Anne and Mrs. Loveday had joined the miller downstairs, +and then for the first time he learnt who had been the heroine of +Festus's lamentable story, with many other particulars of that +yeoman's history which he had never before known. Bob swore that he +would not speak to the traitor again, and the family retired. + +The escape of old Mr. Derriman from the annoyances of his nephew not +only held good for that night, but for next day, and for ever. Just +after dawn on the following morning a labouring man, who was going +to his work, saw the old farmer and landowner leaning over a rail in +a mead near his house, apparently engaged in contemplating the water +of a brook before him. Drawing near, the man spoke, but Uncle Benjy +did not reply. His head was hanging strangely, his body being +supported in its erect position entirely by the rail that passed +under each arm. On after-examination it was found that Uncle +Benjy's poor withered heart had cracked and stopped its beating from +damages inflicted on it by the excitements of his life, and of the +previous night in particular. The unconscious carcass was little +more than a light empty husk, dry and fleshless as that of a dead +heron found on a moor in January. + +But the tin box was not discovered with or near him. It was +searched for all the week, and all the month. The mill-pond was +dragged, quarries were examined, woods were threaded, rewards were +offered; but in vain. + +At length one day in the spring, when the mill-house was about to be +cleaned throughout, the chimney-board of Anne's bedroom, concealing +a yawning fire-place, had to be taken down. In the chasm behind it +stood the missing deed-box of Farmer Derriman. + +Many were the conjectures as to how it had got there. Then Anne +remembered that on going to bed on the night of the collision +between Festus and his uncle in the room below, she had seen mud on +the carpet of her room, and the miller remembered that he had seen +footprints on the back staircase. The solution of the mystery +seemed to be that the late Uncle Benjy, instead of running off from +the house with his box, had doubled on getting out of the front +door, entered at the back, deposited his box in Anne's chamber where +it was found, and then leisurely pursued his way home at the heels +of Festus, intending to tell Anne of his trick the next day--an +intention that was for ever frustrated by the stroke of death. + +Mr. Derriman's solicitor was a Casterbridge man, and Anne placed the +box in his hands. Uncle Benjy's will was discovered within; and by +this testament Anne's queer old friend appointed her sole executrix +of his said will, and, more than that, gave and bequeathed to the +same young lady all his real and personal estate, with the solitary +exception of five small freehold houses in a back street in +Budmouth, which were devised to his nephew Festus, as a sufficient +property to maintain him decently, without affording any margin for +extravagances. Oxwell Hall, with its muddy quadrangle, archways, +mullioned windows, cracked battlements, and weed-grown garden, +passed with the rest into the hands of Anne. + + + +XLI. JOHN MARCHES INTO THE NIGHT + +During this exciting time John Loveday seldom or never appeared at +the mill. With the recall of Bob, in which he had been sole agent, +his mission seemed to be complete. + +One mid-day, before Anne had made any change in her manner of living +on account of her unexpected acquisition, Lieutenant Bob came in +rather suddenly. He had been to Budmouth, and announced to the +arrested senses of the family that the --th Dragoons were ordered to +join Sir Arthur Wellesley in the Peninsula. + +These tidings produced a great impression on the household. John +had been so long in the neighbourhood, either at camp or in +barracks, that they had almost forgotten the possibility of his +being sent away; and they now began to reflect upon the singular +infrequency of his calls since his brother's return. There was not +much time, however, for reflection, if they wished to make the most +of John's farewell visit, which was to be paid the same evening, the +departure of the regiment being fixed for next day. A hurried +valedictory supper was prepared during the afternoon, and shortly +afterwards John arrived. + +He seemed to be more thoughtful and a trifle paler than of old, but +beyond these traces, which might have been due to the natural wear +and tear of time, he showed no signs of gloom. On his way through +the town that morning a curious little incident had occurred to him. +He was walking past one of the churches when a wedding-party came +forth, the bride and bridegroom being Matilda and Festus Derriman. +At sight of the trumpet-major the yeoman had glared triumphantly; +Matilda, on her part, had winked at him slily, as much as to say--. +But what she meant heaven knows: the trumpet-major did not trouble +himself to think, and passed on without returning the mark of +confidence with which she had favoured him. + +Soon after John's arrival at the mill several of his friends dropped +in for the same purpose of bidding adieu. They were mostly the men +who had been entertained there on the occasion of the regiment's +advent on the down, when Anne and her mother were coaxed in to grace +the party by their superior presence; and their well-trained, +gallant manners were such as to make them interesting visitors now +as at all times. For it was a period when romance had not so +greatly faded out of military life as it has done in these days of +short service, heterogeneous mixing, and transient campaigns; when +the esprit de corps was strong, and long experience stamped +noteworthy professional characteristics even on rank and file; while +the miller's visitors had the additional advantage of being picked +men. + +They could not stay so long to-night as on that earlier and more +cheerful occasion, and the final adieus were spoken at an early +hour. It was no mere playing at departure, as when they had gone to +Exonbury barracks, and there was a warm and prolonged shaking of +hands all round. + +'You'll wish the poor fellows good-bye?' said Bob to Anne, who had +not come forward for that purpose like the rest. 'They are going +away, and would like to have your good word.' + +She then shyly advanced, and every man felt that he must make some +pretty speech as he shook her by the hand. + +'Good-bye! May you remember us as long as it makes ye happy, and +forget us as soon as it makes ye sad,' said Sergeant Brett. + +'Good-night! Health, wealth, and long life to ye!' said +Sergeant-major Wills, taking her hand from Brett. + +'I trust to meet ye again as the wife of a worthy man,' said +Trumpeter Buck. + +'We'll drink your health throughout the campaign, and so good-bye +t'ye,' said Saddler-sergeant Jones, raising her hand to his lips. + +Three others followed with similar remarks, to each of which Anne +blushingly replied as well as she could, wishing them a prosperous +voyage, easy conquest, and a speedy return. + +But, alas, for that! Battles and skirmishes, advances and retreats, +fevers and fatigues, told hard on Anne's gallant friends in the +coming time. Of the seven upon whom these wishes were bestowed, +five, including the trumpet-major, were dead men within the few +following years, and their bones left to moulder in the land of +their campaigns. + +John lingered behind. When the others were outside, expressing a +final farewell to his father, Bob, and Mrs. Loveday, he came to +Anne, who remained within. + +'But I thought you were going to look in again before leaving?' she +said gently. + +'No; I find I cannot. Good-bye!' + +'John,' said Anne, holding his right hand in both hers, 'I must tell +you something. You were wise in not taking me at my word that day. +I was greatly mistaken about myself. Gratitude is not love, though +I wanted to make it so for the time. You don't call me thoughtless +for what I did?' + +'My dear Anne,' cried John, with more gaiety than truthfulness, +'don't let yourself be troubled! What happens is for the best. +Soldiers love here to-day and there to-morrow. Who knows that you +won't hear of my attentions to some Spanish maid before a month is +gone by? 'Tis the way of us, you know; a soldier's heart is not +worth a week's purchase--ha, ha! Goodbye, good-bye!' + +Anne felt the expediency of his manner, received the affectation as +real, and smiled her reply, not knowing that the adieu was for +evermore. Then with a tear in his eye he went out of the door, +where he bade farewell to the miller, Mrs. Loveday, and Bob, who +said at parting, 'It's all right, Jack, my dear fellow. After a +coaxing that would have been enough to win three ordinary +Englishwomen, five French, and ten Mulotters, she has to-day agreed +to bestow her hand upon me at the end of six months. Good-bye, +Jack, good-bye!' + +The candle held by his father shed its waving light upon John's face +and uniform as with a farewell smile he turned on the doorstone, +backed by the black night; and in another moment he had plunged into +the darkness, the ring of his smart step dying away upon the bridge +as he joined his companions-in-arms, and went off to blow his +trumpet till silenced for ever upon one of the bloody battle-fields +of Spain. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Trumpet-Major, by Thomas Hardy + diff --git a/old/trpmj10.zip b/old/trpmj10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c81eb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/trpmj10.zip |