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diff --git a/39786.txt b/39786.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5ac7878..0000000 --- a/39786.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10077 +0,0 @@ - BEAU BROCADE - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Beau Brocade - A Romance -Author: Baroness Orczy -Release Date: May 24, 2012 [EBook #39786] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEAU BROCADE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - -[Illustration: THE FIGHT IN THE FORGE] - - - - - BEAU BROCADE - - A ROMANCE - - - BY THE - - BARONESS ORCZY - - - - - _POPULAR EDITION_ - - _WITH FRONTISPIECE BY H. M. BROCK_ - - LONDON - - GREENING & CO. LTD. - - 1912 - - - - - Copyright - in the United Kingdom - of - Great Britain and Ireland - in the - Dominion of Canada - and in the - United States of America - - All dramatic rights - are strictly reserved - and protected. Entered - at Stationers' Hall, March 6th, 1906 - - - - CONTENTS - - - PART I.--THE FORGE. - -CHAP. - - I. BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT - II. THE FORGE OF JOHN STICH - III. THE FUGITIVE - IV. JOCK MIGGS, THE SHEPHERD - V. "THERE'S NONE LIKE HER, NONE!" - VI. A SQUIRE OF HIGH DEGREE - VII. THE HALT AT THE MOORHEN - VIII. THE REJECTED SUITOR - IX. SIR HUMPHREY'S FAMILIAR - X. A STRANGER AT THE FORGE - XI. THE STRANGER'S NAME - XII. THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE ROSE - XIII. A PROPOSAL AND A THREAT - XIV. THE FIGHT IN THE FORGE - - - - PART II.--THE HEATH. - - XV. THE OUTLAW - XVI. A RENCONTRE ON THE HEATH - XVII. A FAITHFUL FRIEND - XVIII. MOONLIGHT ON THE HEATH - XIX. HIS OATH - - - - PART III.--BRASSINGTON. - - XX. A THRILLING NARRATIVE - XXI. MASTER MITTACHIP'S IDEA - XXII. AN INTERLUDE - XXIII. A DARING PLAN - XXIV. HIS HONOUR, SQUIRE WEST - XXV. SUCCESS AND DISAPPOINTMENT - XXVI. THE MAN HUNT - XXVII. JOCK MIGGS'S ERRAND - XXVIII. THE QUARRY - XXIX. THE DAWN - - - - PART IV.--H.R.H. THE DUKE OF CUMBERLAND. - - XXX. SUSPENSE - XXXI. "WE'VE GOTTEN BEAU BROCADE" - XXXII. A PAINFUL INCIDENT - XXXIII. THE AWAKENING - XXXIV. A LIFE FOR A LIFE - XXXV. QUITS - XXXVI. THE AGONY OF PARTING - XXXVII. REPARATION -XXXVIII. THE JOY OF RE-UNION - - - - - BEAU BROCADE - - - - PART I - - THE FORGE - - - - CHAPTER I - - BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT - - -The gaffers stood round and shook their heads. - -When the Corporal had finished reading the Royal Proclamation, one or -two of them sighed in a desultory fashion, others murmured casually, -"Lordy! Lordy! to think on it! Dearie me!" - -The young ones neither sighed nor murmured. They looked at one another -furtively, then glanced away again, as if afraid to read each other's -thoughts, and in a shamefaced manner wiped their moist hands against -their rough cord breeches. - -There were no women present fortunately: there had been heavy rains on -the Moor these last three days, and what roads there were had become -well-nigh impassable. Only a few men--some half-dozen perhaps--out of -the lonely homesteads from down Brassington way, had tramped in the wake -of the little squad of soldiers, in order to hear this Act of Parliament -read at the cross-roads, and to see the document duly pinned to the old -gallows-tree. - -Fortunately the rain had ceased momentarily, only a cool, brisk -nor'-wester came blustering across the Heath, making the older men -shiver beneath their thin, well-worn smocks. - -North and south, east and west, Brassing Moor stretched its mournful -lengths to the distant framework of the Peak far away, with mile upon -mile of grey-green gorse and golden bracken and long shoots of -purple-stemmed bramble, and here and there patches of vivid mauve, where -the heather was just bursting into bloom; or anon a clump of dark firs, -with ruddy trunks and gaunt arms stretched menacingly over the sparse -young life below. - -And here, at the cross-roads, the Heath seemed more desolate than ever, -despite that one cottage with the blacksmith's shed beyond it. The -roads themselves, the one to Aldwark, the other from Wirksworth, the -third little more than a morass, a short cut to Stretton, all bore mute -testimony to the remoteness, the aloofness of this forgotten corner of -eighteenth-century England. - -Then there was the old gallows, whereon many a foot-pad or sheep-stealer -had paid full penalty for his crimes! True, John Stich, the blacksmith, -now used it as a sign-post for his trade: a monster horseshoe hung there -where once the bones of Dick Caldwell, the highwayman, had whitened in -the bleak air of the Moor: still, at moments like these, when no one -spoke, the wind seemed to bring an echo of ghostly sighs and laughter, -for Dick had breathed his last with a coarse jest on his lips, and the -ears of the timid seemed still to catch the eerie sound of his horse's -hoofs ploughing the ruddy, shallow soil of the Heath. - -For the moment, however, the cross-roads presented a scene of quite -unusual animation: the Corporal and his squad looked resplendent in -their scarlet tunics and white buckskins, and Mr Inch, the beadle from -Brassington, was also there in his gold-laced coat, bob-tailed wig and -three-cornered hat: he had lent the dignity of his presence to this -solemn occasion, and in high top-boots, bell in hand, had tramped five -miles with the soldiers, so that he might shout a stentorian "Oyez! -Oyez!" whenever they passed one of the few cottages along the road. - -But no one spoke. The Corporal handed the Royal Proclamation to one of -the soldiers; he too seemed nervous and ill at ease. The nor'-wester, -with singular want of respect for King and Parliament, commenced a -vigorous attack upon the great document, pulling at it in wanton frolic, -almost tearing it out of the hands of the young soldier, who did his -best to fix it against the shaft of the old gallows. - -The white parchment looked uncanny and ghost-like fluttering in the -wind; no doubt the nor'-wester would soon tear it to rags. - -"Lordy! Lordy! to think on it!" - -There it was, fixed up at last. Up, so that any chance traveller who -could might read. But those who were now assembled there--shepherds, -most of them, on the Moor--viewed the written characters with awe and -misgiving. They had had Mr Inch's assurance that it was all writ there, -that the King himself had put his name to it; and the young Corporal, -who had read it out, had received the document from his own superior -officer, who in his turn had had it at the hands of His Grace the Duke -of Cumberland himself. - - "It having come to the knowledge of His Majesty's Parliament - that certain subjects of the King have lately raised the - standard of rebellion, setting up the Pretender, Charles Edward - Stuart, above the King's most lawful Majesty, it is hereby - enacted that these persons are guilty of high treason and by the - laws of the kingdom are therefore condemned to death. It is - further enacted that it is unlawful for any loyal subject of the - King to shelter or harbour, clothe or feed any such persons who - are vile traitors and rebels to their King and country: and that - any subject of His Majesty who kills such a traitor or rebel - doth thereby commit an act of justice and loyalty, for which he - may be rewarded by the sum of twenty guineas." - -It was this last paragraph that made the gaffers shake their heads and -say "Lordy! Lordy! to think on it! to think on it!" For it seemed but -yesterday that the old Moor, aye, and the hamlets and villages of -Derbyshire, were ringing with the wild shouts of Prince Charlie's -Highland Brigade, but yesterday that his handsome face, his green bonnet -laced with gold, his Highland plaid and rich accoutrements, had seemed -to proclaim victory to the Stuart cause from one end of the county to -the other. - -To be sure, that glorious, mad, merry time had not lasted very long. -All the wiseacres had foretold disaster when the Prince's standard -broke, just as it was taken into my Lord Exeter's house in Full Street. -The shaft snapped clean in half. What could that portend but -humiliation and defeat? - -The retreat from Derby was still fresh in everyone's memory, and there -were those from Wirksworth who remembered the rear-guard of Prince -Charlie's army, the hussars with their half-starved horses and -bedraggled finery, who had swept down on the villages and homesteads -round about Ashbourne and had pillaged and plundered to their hearts' -content. - -But then those were the fortunes of war; fighting, rushing, running, -plundering, wild huzzas, mad cavalcades, noise, bustle, excitement, joy -of victory, and sorrow of defeat, but this!! ... this Proclamation which -the Corporal had brought all the way from Derby, and which had been -signed by King George himself, this meant silence, hushed footsteps, a -hidden figure perhaps, pallid and gaunt, hiding behind the boulders, or -amidst the gorse on the Moor, or perishing mayhap at night, lost in the -bog-land up Stretton way, whilst Judas-like treads crept stealthily on -the track. It meant treachery too, the price of blood, a -fellow-creature's life to be sold for twenty guineas. - -No wonder the gaffers could think of nothing to say; no wonder the young -men looked at one another shamefaced, and in fear. - -Who knows? Any Derbyshire lad now might become a human bloodhound, a -tracker of his fellow-creatures, a hunter of men. There were twenty -guineas to be earned, and out there on the Heath, in the hut of the -shepherd or the forge of the smith, many a pale wan face had been seen -of late, which... - -It was terrible to think on; for even out here, on Brassing Moor, there -existed some knowledge of Tyburn Gate, and of Tower Hill. - -At last the groups began to break up, the Corporal's work was done. His -Majesty's Proclamation would flutter there in the cool September wind -for awhile; then presently the crows would peck at it, the rain would -dash it down, the last bit of dirty rag would be torn away by an October -gale, but in the meanwhile the few inhabitants of Brassington and those -of Aldwark would know that they might deny a starving fellow-creature -bread and shelter, aye! and shoot him too, like a wild beast in a ditch, -and have twenty guineas reward to boot. - -"I've seen nought of John Stich, Master Inch," said the Corporal at -last. "Be he from home?" - -And he turned to where, just in the fork of the road, the thatched -cottage, with a glimpse of the shed beyond it, stood solitary and still. - -"Nay, I have not observated that fact, Master Corporal," replied Master -Inch, clearing his throat for some of those fine words which had gained -for him wide-spread admiration for miles around. "I had not observated -that John Stich was from home. Though in verity it behoves me to say -that I do not hear the sound of Master Stich's hammer upon his anvil." - -"Then I'll go across at once," said the Corporal. "Forward, my men! -John Stich might have saved me the trouble," he added, groping in his -wallet for another copy of His Majesty's Proclamation. - -"Nay, Master Corporal, do not give yourself the futile trouble of -traversing the muddy road," said Mr Inch, sententiously. "John Stich is -a loyal subject of King George, and by my faith! he would not -harbourgate a rebel, take my word for it. Although, mind you, Mr -Corporal, I have oft suspicionated..." - -Mr Inch, the beadle, looked cautiously round; all the pompousness of his -manner had vanished in a trice. His broad face beneath the bob-tailed -wig and three-cornered hat looked like a rosy receptacle of mysterious -information, as he laid his fat hand on the Corporal's sleeve. - -The straggling groups of yokels were fast disappearing down the muddy -tracks; some were returning to Brassington, others were tramping Aldwark -way; one wizened, solitary figure was slowly toiling up the road, little -more than a quagmire, that led northwards across the Heath towards -Stretton Hall. - -The soldiers stood at attention some fifteen yards away, mute and -disinterested. From the shed beyond the cottage there suddenly came the -sound of the blacksmith's hammer upon his anvil. Mr Inch felt secure -from observation. - -"I have oft suspicionated John Stich, the smith, of befriending the -foot-pads and highwaymen that haunt this God-forsaken Moor," he said, -with an air of excited importance, rolling his beady eyes. - -"Nay," laughed the Corporal, good-humouredly, as he shook off Master -Inch's fat hand. "You'd best not whisper this confidence to John Stich -himself. As I live, he would crack your skull for you, Master Beadle, -aye, be it ever so full of dictionary words. John Stich is an honest -man, I tell you," he added with a pleasant oath, "the most honest this -side of the county, and don't you forget it." - -But Mr Inch did not approve of the young soldier's tone of familiarity. -He drew up his five feet of broad stature to their full height. - -"Nay, but I designated no harm," he said, with offended dignity. "John -Stich is a worthy fellow, and I spoke of no ordinary foot-pads. My -mind," he added, dwelling upon that mysterious possession with conscious -pride, "my mind, I may say, was dominating on Beau Brocade." - -"Beau Brocade!!!" - -And the Corporal laughed with obvious incredulity, which further nettled -Mr Inch, the beadle. - -"Aye, Beau Brocade," he said hotly, "the malicious, pernicious, damned -rascal, who gives us, that representate the majesty of the law, a mighty -deal of trouble." - -"Indeed?" sneered the Corporal. - -"I dare swear that down at Derby," retorted Mr Inch, spitefully, "you -have not even heard of that personage." - -"Oh! we know well enough that Brassing Moor harbours more miscreants -than any corner of the county," laughed the young soldier, "but -methought Beau Brocade only existed in the imagination of your -half-witted yokels about here." - -"There you are in grave error, Master Corporal," remarked the beadle -with dignity. "Beau Brocade, permit me to observe, does exist in the -flesh. 'Twas only last night Sir Humphrey Challoner's coach was stopped -not three miles from Hartington, and his Honour robbed of fifty guineas, -by that pernicious highwayman." - -"Then you must lay this Beau Brocade by the heels, Master Inch." - -"Aye! that's easily said. Lay him by the heels forsooth, and who's -going to do that, pray?" - -"Nay, that's your affair. You don't expect His Grace the Duke of -Cumberland to lend you a portion of his army, do you?" - -"His Grace might do worse. Beau Brocade is a dangerous rascal to the -quality." - -"Only to the quality?" - -"Aye, he'll not touch a poor man; 'tis only the rich he is after, and -uses but little of his ill-gotten gain on himself." - -"How so?" asked the Corporal, eagerly, for in spite of the excitement of -camp life round about Derby, the fame of the daring highwayman had ere -now tickled the fancy of the young soldiers of the Duke of Cumberland's -army. - -"Why, I told you Sir Humphrey Challoner was robbed on the Heath last -night--robbed of fifty guineas, eh?" said Master Inch, whispering in -eager confidence. "Well, this morning, when Squire West arrived at the -court-house, he found fifty guineas in the poor box." - -"Well?" - -"Well, that's not the first time nor yet the second that such a matter -has occurred. The dolts round about here, the lads from Brassington or -Aldwark, or even from Wirksworth, would never willingly lay a hand on -Beau Brocade. The rascal knows it well enough, and carries on his -shameful trade with impunity." - -"Odd's fish! but meseems the trade is not so shameful after all. What -is the fellow like?" - -"Nay, no one has ever seen his face, though his figure on the Moor is -familiar to many. He is always dressed in the latest fashion, hence the -villagers have called him Beau Brocade. Some say he is a royal prince -in disguise--he always wears a mask; some say he is the Pretender, -Charles Stuart himself; others declare his face is pitted with smallpox; -others that he has the face of a pig, and the ears of a mule, that he is -covered with hairs like a spaniel, or has a blue skin like an ape. But -no one knows, and with half the villages on the Heath to aid and abet -him, he is not like to be laid by the heels." - -"A fine story, Master Inch," laughed the Corporal. "And is there no -reward for the capture of your pig-faced, hairy, blue-skinned royal -prince disguised as a common highwayman?" - -"Aye, a reward of a hundred guineas," said Mr Inch, in a whisper that -was hardly audible above the murmur of the wind. "A hundred guineas for -the capture of Beau Brocade." - -The Corporal gave a long significant whistle. - -"And no one bold enough to attempt the capture?" he said derisively. - -Mr Inch shook his head sadly. - -"No one could do it single-handed; the rascal is cunning as well as -bold, and..." - -But at this point even Mr Inch's voluble tongue was suddenly and -summarily silenced. The words died in his throat; his bell, the badge -of his important public office, fell with a mighty clatter on the -ground. - -A laugh, a long, loud, joyous, mirthful laugh, rang clear as a silver -gong from across the lonely Moor. Such a laugh as would make anyone's -heart glad to hear, the laugh of a free man, of a man who is -whole-hearted, of a man who has never ceased to be a boy. - -And pompous Mr Inch slowly turned on his heel, as did also the young -Corporal, and both gazed out upon the Heath; the patient little squad of -soldiers too, all fixed their eyes upon one spot, just beyond John -Stich's forge and cottage, not fifty yards away. - -There, clearly outlined against the cloud-laden sky, was the graceful -figure of a horse and rider; the horse, a sleek chestnut thoroughbred, -which filled all the soldiers' hearts with envy and covetousness; the -rider, a youthful, upright figure, whose every movement betokened -strength of limb and elasticity of muscle, the very pose a model of ease -and grace, the shoulders broad; the head, with a black mask worn over -the face, was carried high and erect. - -In truth it was a goodly picture to look upon, with that massive bank of -white clouds, and the little patches of vivid blue as a rich, shimmering -dome above it, the gold-tipped bracken, the purple heather all around, -and far away, as a mist-covered background, the green-clad hills and -massive Tors of Derbyshire. - -So good a picture was it that the tardy September sun peeped through the -clouds and had a look at that fine specimen of eighteenth-century -English manhood, then paused awhile, perchance to hear again that -mirthful, happy laugh. - -Then came a gust of wind, the sun retreated, the soldiers gasped, and -lo! before Mr Inch or Mr Corporal had realised that the picture was made -of flesh and blood, horse and rider had disappeared, there, far out -across the Heath, beyond the gorse and bramble and the budding heather, -with not a handful of dust to mark the way they went. - -Only once from far, very far, almost from fairy-land, there came, like -the echo of a silver bell, the sound of that mad, merry laugh. - -"Beau Brocade, as I live!" murmured Mr Inch, under his breath. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE FORGE OF JOHN STICH - - -John Stich too had heard that laugh; for a moment he paused in his work, -straightened his broad back and leant his heavy hammer upon the anvil, -whilst a pleasant smile lit up his bronzed and rugged countenance. - -"There goes the Captain," he said, "I wonder now what's tickling him. -Ah!" he added with a short sigh, "the soldiers, maybe. He doesn't like -soldiers much, doesn't the Captain." - -He sighed again and looked across to where, on a rough wooden bench, sat -a young man with head resting on his hand, his blue eyes staring moodily -before him. The dress this young man wore was a counterpart of that in -which John himself was arrayed; rough worsted stockings, thick flannel -shirt with sleeves well tucked up over fine, muscular arms, and a large, -greasy, well-worn leather apron, denoting the blacksmith's trade. But -though the hands and face were covered with grime, a more than casual -observer would soon have noticed that those same hands were slender and -shapely, the fingers long, the nails neatly trimmed, whilst the face, -anxious and careworn though it was, had in it a look of habitual -command, of pride not yet crushed out of ken. - -John Stich gazed at him for awhile, whilst a look of pity and anxiety -saddened his honest face. The smith was a man of few words, he said -nothing then, and presently the sound of his hammer upon the anvil once -more filled the forge with its pleasant echo. But though John's tongue -was slow, his ear was quick, and in one moment he had perceived the dull -thud made by the Corporal's squad as, having parted from Mr Inch at the -cross-roads, the soldiers ploughed their way through the mud round the -cottage and towards the forge. - -"Hist!" said John, in a rapid whisper, pointing to the fire, "the -bellows! quick!" - -The young man too had started in obvious alarm. His ear--the ear of a -fugitive, trained to every sound that betokened danger--was as alert as -that of the smith. With a sudden effort he pulled himself together, and -quickly seized the heavy bellows with a will. He forced his eyes to -glance carelessly at the door and his lips to whistle a lively country -tune. - -The Corporal paused a moment at the entrance, taking a quick survey of -the interior of the forge, his men at attention behind him. - -"In the King's name!" he said loudly, as he unfolded the Proclamation of -His Majesty's Parliament. - -His orders were to read it in every hamlet and every homestead in the -district; John Stich, the blacksmith, was an important personage all -around Brassing Moor, and he had not heard it read from beneath the old -gallows at the cross-roads just now. - -"Well, Corporal," said the worthy smith, quietly, as he put down his -hammer out of respect for the King's name. "Well, and what does His -Majesty, King George II., desire with John Stich, the blacksmith, eh?" - -"Not with you alone, John Stich," replied the Corporal. "This is an Act -of Parliament and concerns all loyal subjects of the King. Who be yon -lad?" he asked, carelessly nodding towards the young man at the bellows. - -"My nephew Jim, out o' Nottingham," replied John Stich, quietly, "my -sister Hannah's child. You recollect her, Corporal? She was in service -with my Lord Exeter up at Derby." - -"Oh, aye! Mistress Hannah Stich, to be sure! I didn't know she had such -a fine lad of her own," commented the Corporal, as the young man -straightened his tall figure and looked him fearlessly in the face. - -"Lads grow up fast enough, don't they, Corporal?" laughed honest Stich, -pleasantly; "but come, let's hear His Majesty's Proclamation since -you've got to read it. But you see I'm very busy and..." - -"Nay, 'tis my duty, John Stich, 'in every homestead in Derbyshire' 'tis -to be read, so says this Act of Parliament. You might have saved this -trouble had you come down to the cross-roads just now." - -"I was busy," remarked John Stich, drily, and the Corporal began to -read:-- - - "'It having come to the knowledge of His Majesty's Parliament - that certain subjects of the King have lately raised the - standard of rebellion, setting up the Pretender, Charles Edward - Stuart, above the King's most lawful Majesty, it is hereby - enacted that these persons are guilty of high treason and by the - laws of the kingdom are therefore condemned to death. It is - further enacted that it is unlawful for any loyal subject of the - King to shelter or harbour, clothe or feed any such persons who - are vile traitors and rebels to their King and country; and that - any subject of His Majesty who kills such a traitor or rebel - doth thereby commit an act of justice and loyalty, for which he - may be rewarded by the sum of twenty guineas.'" - -There was a pause when the Corporal had finished reading. John Stich -was leaning upon his hammer, the young man once more busied himself with -the bellows. Outside, the clearing shower of September rain began -pattering upon the thatched roof of the forge. - -"Well," said John Stich at last, as the Corporal put the heavy parchment -away in his wallet. "Well, and are you going to tell us who are those -persons, Corporal, whom our village lads are told to murder by Act of -Parliament? How shall we know a rebel ... and shoot him ... when we see -one?" - -"There were forty persons down on the list a few weeks ago, persons who -were known to be in hiding in Derbyshire," said the young soldier, -"but..." - -"Well, what's your 'but,' Corporal? There were forty persons whom 'twas -lawful to murder a few weeks ago.... What of them?" - -"They have been caught and hanged, most of them," replied the soldier, -quietly. - -"Jim, lad, mind that fire," commented John Stich, turning to his "nephew -out o' Nottingham," for the latter was staring with glowing eyes and -quivering lips at the Corporal, who, not noticing him, continued -carelessly,-- - -"There was Lord Lovat now, you must have heard of him, John Stich, he -was beheaded a few days ago, and so was Lord Kilmarnock ... they were -lords, you see, and had a headsman all to themselves on Tower Hill, -that's up in London: some lesser folk have been hanged, and now there -are only three rebels at large, and there are twenty guineas waiting for -anyone who will bring the head of one of them to the nearest -magistrate." - -The smith grunted. "Well, and who are they?" he asked roughly. - -"Sir Andrew Macdonald up from Tweedside, then Squire Fairfield, you'd -mind him, John Stich, over Staffordshire way." - -"Aye, aye, I mind him well enough. His mother was a Papist and he clung -to the Stuart cause ... young man, too, and hiding for his life.... -Well, and who else?" - -"The young Earl of Stretton." - -"What! him from Stretton Hall?" said John Stich in open astonishment. -"Jim, lad," he added sternly, "thou art a clumsy fool." - -The young man had started involuntarily at sound of the last name -mentioned by the Corporal; and the bellows which he had tried to wield -fell with a clatter on the floor. - -"Be gy! but an Act of Parliament can make thee a lawful assassin, it -seems," added honest John, with a laugh, "but let me perish if it can -make thee a good smith. What think you, Master Corporal?" - -"Odd's life! the lad is too soft-hearted mayhap! Our Derbyshire lads -haven't much sense in their heads, have they?" - -"Well, you mind the saying, Corporal, 'Derbyshire born and Derbyshire -bred...' eh?" - -"'Strong i' the arm and weak i' th' head,'" laughed the soldier, -concluding the apt quotation. "That's just it. Odd's buds! they want -some sense. What's a rebel or a traitor but vermin, eh? and don't we -kill vermin all of us, and don't call it murder either--what?" - -He laughed pleasantly and carelessly and tapped the side of his wallet -where rested His Majesty's Proclamation. He was a young soldier, -nothing more, attentive to duty, ready to obey, neither willing nor -allowed to reason for himself. He had been taught that rebels and -traitors were vermin ... egad! vermin they were, and as such must be got -rid of for the sake of the rest of the kingdom and the safety of His -Majesty the King. - -John Stich made no comment on the Corporal's profession of faith. - -"We'll talk about all that some other time, Corporal," he said at last, -"but I am busy now, you see..." - -"No offence, friend Stich.... Odd's life, duty you know, John, duty, -eh? His Majesty's orders! and I had them from the Captain, who had them -from the Duke of Cumberland himself. So you mind the Act, friend!" - -"Aye! I mind it well enough." - -"Everyone knows _you_ to be a loyal subject of King George," added the -Corporal in conciliatory tones, for John was a power in the district, -"and I'm sure your nephew is the same, but duty is duty, and no offence -meant." - -"That's right enough, Corporal," said John Stich, impatiently. - -"So good-morrow to you, John Stich." - -"Good-morrow." - -The Corporal nodded to the young man, then turned on his heel and -presently his voice was heard ringing out the word of command,-- - -"Attention!--Right turn--Quick march!" - -John Stich and the young man watched the half-dozen red-coated figures -as they turned to skirt the cottage: the dull thud of their feet quickly -dying away, as they wound their way slowly up the muddy path which leads -across the Heath to Aldwark village. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE FUGITIVE - - -Inside the forge all was still, whilst the last of the muffled sounds -died away in the distance. John Stich had not resumed work. It was his -turn now to stare moodily before him. - -The young man had thrown the bellows aside, and was pacing the rough -earthen floor of the forge like some caged animal. - -"Tracked!" he murmured at last between clenched teeth, "tracked like -some wild beast! perhaps shot anon like a dangerous cur behind a hedge!" - -He sighed a long and bitter sigh, full of sorrow, anxiety, -disappointment. It had come to this then! His name among the -others--the traitors, the rebels! and he an innocent man! - -"Nay, my lord!" said the smith, quietly, "not while John Stich owns a -roof that can shelter you." - -The young man paused in his feverish walk; a look of gentleness and -gratitude softened the care-worn expression on his face: with a boyish -gesture he threw back the fair hair which fell in curly profusion over -his forehead, and with a frank and winning grace he sought and grasped -the worthy smith's rough brown hand. - -"Honest Stich!" he said at last, whilst his voice shook a little as he -spoke, "and to think that I cannot even reward your devotion!" - -"Nay, my lord," retorted John Stich, drawing up his burly figure to its -full height, "don't talk of reward. I would gladly give my life for you -and your family." - -And this was no idle talk. John Stich meant every word he said. -Honest, kind, simple-hearted John! he loved those to whom he owed -everything, loved them with all the devotion of his strong, faithful -nature. - -The late Lord Stretton had brought him up, cared for him, given him a -trade, and set him up in the cottage and forge at the cross-roads, and -honest Stich felt that as everything that was good in life had come from -my lord and his family, so everything he could give should be theirs in -return. - -"Ah! I fear me," sighed the young man, "that it is your life you risk -now by sheltering me." - -Yet it was all such a horrible mistake. - -Philip James Gascoyne, eleventh Earl of Stretton, was at this time not -twenty-one years of age. There is that fine portrait of him at Brassing -Hall painted by Hogarth just before this time. The artist has well -caught the proud features, the fine blue eyes, the boyish, curly head, -which have been the characteristics of the Gascoynes for many -generations. He has also succeeded in indicating the sensitiveness of -the mouth, that somewhat feminine turn of the lips, that all too-rounded -curve of the chin and jaw, which perhaps robs the handsome face of its -virile manliness. There certainly is a look of indecision, of weakness -of will about the lower part of the face, but it is so frank, so young, -so _insouciant_, that it wins all hearts, even if it does not captivate -the judgment. - -Of course, when he was very young, his sympathies went out to the Stuart -cause. Had not the Gascoynes suffered and died for Charles Stuart but a -hundred years ago? Why the change? Why this allegiance to an alien -dynasty, to a king who spoke the language of his subjects with a foreign -accent? - -His father, the late Lord Stretton, a contented, unargumentative British -nobleman of the eighteenth century, had not thought it worth his while -to explain to the growing lad the religious and political questions -involved in the upholding of this foreign dynasty. Perhaps he did not -understand them altogether himself. The family motto is "Pour le Roi." -So the Gascoynes fought for a Stuart when he was King, and against him -when he was a Pretender, and old Lord Stretton expected his children to -reverence the family motto, and to have no opinions of their own. - -And yet to the hearts of many the Stuart cause made a strong appeal. -From Scotland came the fame of the "bonnie Prince" who won all hearts -where'er he went. Philip was young, his father's discipline was -irksome, he had some friends among the Highland lords: and while his -father lived there had as yet been no occasion in the English Midlands -to do anything very daring for the Stuart Pretender. - -When the Earl of Stretton died, Philip, a mere boy then, succeeded to -title and estates. In the first flush of new duties and new -responsibilities his old enthusiasm remained half forgotten. As a peer -of the realm he had registered his allegiance to King George, and with -his youthful romantic nature all afire, he clung to that new oath of -his, idealised it and loyally resisted the blandishments and lures held -out to him from Scotland and from France. - -Then came the news that Charles Edward, backed by French money and -French influence, would march upon London and would stop at Derby to -rally round his standard his friends in the Midlands. - -Young Lord Stretton, torn between memories of his boyhood and the duties -of his new position, feared to be inveigled into breaking his allegiance -to King George. The malevolent fairy who at his birth had given him -that weak mouth and softly rounded chin, had stamped his worst -characteristic on the young handsome face. Philip's one hope at this -juncture was to flee from temptation; he knew that Charles Edward, -remembering his past ardour, would demand his help and his adherence, -and that he, Philip, might be powerless to refuse. - -So he fled from the county: despising himself as a coward, yet boyishly -clinging to the idea that he would keep the oath he had sworn to King -George. He wished to put miles of country between himself and the -possible breaking of that oath, the possible yielding to the "bonnie -Prince" whom none could resist. He left his sister, Lady Patience, at -Stretton Hall, well cared for by old retainers, and he, a loyal subject -to his King, became a fugitive. - -Then came the catastrophe: that miserable retreat from Derby; the -bedraggled remains of a disappointed army; finally Culloden and complete -disaster; King George's soldiers scouring the country for rebels, the -bills of attainder, the quick trials and swift executions. - -Soon the suspicion grew into certainty that the fugitive Earl of -Stretton was one of the Pretender's foremost adherents. On his weary -way from Derby Prince Charles Edward had asked and obtained a night's -shelter at Stretton Hall. When Philip tried to communicate with his -sister, and to return to his home, he found that she was watched, and -that he was himself attainted by Act of Parliament. - -Yet he felt himself guiltless and loyal. He _was_ guiltless and loyal: -how his name came to be included in the list of rebels was still a -mystery to him: someone must have lodged sworn information against him. -But who?--Surely not his old friends--the adherents of Charles -Edward--out of revenge for his half-heartedness? - -In the meanwhile, he, a mere lad, became an outcast, condemned to death -by Act of Parliament. Presently all might be cleared, all would be well, -but for the moment he was like a wild beast, hiding in hedges and -ditches, with his life at the mercy of any grasping Judas willing to -sell his fellow-creature for a few guineas. - -It was horrible! horrible! Philip vainly tried all the day to rouse -himself from his morbid reverie. At intervals he would grasp the kind -smith's hand and mutter anxiously,-- - -"My letter to my sister, John?--You are sure she had it?" - -And patient John would repeat a dozen times the day,-- - -"I am quite sure, my lord." - -But since the Corporal's visit Philip's mood had become more feverish. - -"My letter," he repeated, "has Patience had my letter? Why doesn't she -come?" - -And spite of John's entreaties he would go to the entrance which faced -the lonely Heath, and with burning eyes look out across the wilderness -of furze and bracken towards that distant horizon where lay his home, -where waited his patient, loving sister. - -"I beg you, my lord, come away from the door, it isn't safe, not really -safe," urged John Stich again and again. - -"Then why will you not tell me who took my letter to Stretton Hall?" -said the boy with feverish impatience. - -"My lord..." - -"Some stupid dolt mayhap, who has lost his way ... or ... perchance -betrayed me..." - -"My lord," pleaded the smith, "have I not sworn that your letter went by -hands as faithful, as trusty as my own?" - -"But I'll not rest an you do not tell me who took it. I wish to know," -he added with that sudden look of command which all the Strettons have -worn for many generations past. - -The old habitual deference of the retainer for his lord was strong in -the heart of John. He yielded. - -"Nay, my lord, an you'll not be satisfied," he said with a sigh, "I'll -tell you, though Heaven knows that his safety is as dear to me as -yours--both dearer than my own." - -"Well, who was it?" asked the young man, eagerly. - -"I entrusted your letter for Lady Patience to Beau Brocade, the -highwayman--" - -In a moment Philip was on his feet: danger, amazement, horror, robbed -him of speech for a few seconds, but the next he had gripped the smith's -arm and like a furious, thoughtless, unreasoning child, he gasped,-- - -"Beau Brocade!! ... the highwayman!!! ... My life, my honour to a -highwayman!!! Are you mad or drunk, John Stich?" - -"Neither, my lord," said John with great respect, but looking the young -man fearlessly in the face. "You don't know Beau Brocade, and there are -no safer hands than his. He knows every inch of the Moor and fears -neither man nor devil." - -Touched in spite of himself by the smith's earnestness, Philip's wrath -abated somewhat; still he seemed dazed, not understanding, vaguely -scenting danger, or treachery. - -"But a highwayman!" he repeated mechanically. - -"Aye! and a gentleman!" retorted John with quiet conviction. "A -gentleman if ever there was one! Aye! and not the only one who has -ta'en to the road these hard times," he added under his breath. - -"But a thief, John! A man who might sell my letter, betray my -whereabouts!..." - -"A man, my lord, who would die in torture sooner than do that." - -The smith's quiet and earnest conviction seemed to chase away the last -vestige of Philip's wrath. Still he seemed unconvinced. - -"A hero of romance, John, this highwayman of yours," he laughed -bitterly. - -Honest John scratched the back of his curly black head. - -"Noa!" he said, somewhat puzzled. "I know nought about that or what's a -... a hero of romance. But I do know that Beau Brocade is a friend of -the poor, and that our village lads won't lay their hands on him, even -if they could. No! not though the Government have offered a hundred -guineas as the price of his head." - -"Five times the value of mine, it seems," said Philip with a sigh. -"But," he added, with a sudden return to feverish anxiety, "if he was -caught last night, with my letter in his hands..." - -"Caught!!! Beau Brocade caught!" laughed John Stich, "nay, all the -soldiers of the Duke of Cumberland's army couldn't do that, my lord! -Besides, I know he wasn't caught. I saw him on his chestnut horse just -before the Corporal came. I heard him laughing, at the red coats, -maybe. Nay! my lord, I beg you have no fear, your letter is in her -ladyship's hand now, I'll lay my life on that." - -"I had to trust someone, my lord," he said after awhile, as Lord -Stretton once more relapsed into gloomy silence. "I could do nothing -for your lordship single-handed, and you wanted that letter to reach her -ladyship. I scarce knew what to do. But I did know I could trust Beau -Brocade, and your secret is as safe with him as it is with me." - -Philip sighed wearily. - -"Ah, well! I'll believe it all, friend John. I'll trust you and your -friend, and be grateful to you both: have no fear of that! Who am I but -a wretched creature, whom any rascal may shoot by Act of Parliament." - -But John Stich had come to the end of his power of argument. Never a -man of many words, he had only become voluble when speaking of his -friend. Philip tried to look cheerful and convinced, but he was chafing -under this enforced inactivity and the dark, close atmosphere of the -forge. - -He had spent two days under the smith's roof and time seemed to creep -with lead-weighted wings: yet every sound, every strange footstep, made -his nerves quiver with morbid apprehension, and even now at sound of a -tremulous voice from the road, shrank, moody and impatient, into the -darkest corner of the hut. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - JOCK MIGGS, THE SHEPHERD - - -"Be you at home, Master Stich?" - -A curious, wizened little figure stood in the doorway peering cautiously -into the forge. - -In a moment John Stich was on the alert. - -"Sh!" he whispered quickly, "have no fear, my lord, 'tis only some fool -from the village." - -"Did ye say ye baint at home, Master Stich?" queried the same tremulous -voice again. "I didn't quite hear ye." - -"Yes, yes, I'm here all right, Jock Miggs," said the smith, heartily. -"Come in!" - -Jock Miggs came in, making as little noise, and taking up as little room -as possible. Dressed in a well-worn smock and shabby corduroy breeches, -he had a curious shrunken, timid air about his whole personality, as he -removed his soft felt hat and began scratching his scanty tow-coloured -locks: he was a youngish man too, probably not much more than thirty, -yet his brown face was a mass of ruts and wrinkles like a furrowed path -on Brassing Moor. - -"Morning, Mr Stich ... morning," he said with a certain air of vagueness -and apology, as with obvious admiration he stopped to watch the broad -back of the smith and his strong arms wielding the heavy hammer. - -"Morning, Miggs," retorted John, not looking up from his work, "how's -the old woman?" - -"I dunno, Mr Stich," replied Miggs, with a dubious shake of the head. -"Badly, I expec' ... same as yesterday," he added in a more cheerful -spirit. - -"Why! what's the matter?" - -"I dunno, Mr Stich, that there's anything the matter," explained Jock -Miggs with slow and sad deliberation, "but she's dead ... same as -yesterday." - -Involuntarily Philip laughed at the quaint, fatalistic statement. - -"Hello!" said Miggs, looking at him with the same apathetic wonder, "who -be yon lad?" - -"That's my nephew Jim, out o' Nottingham," said John, "come to give me a -hand." - -"Morning, lad," piped Miggs, in his high treble, as he extended a -wrinkled, bony hand to Stretton. - -"Lud, John Stich," he exclaimed, "any one'd know he was one o' your -family from the muscle he's got." - -And gently, meditatively, he rubbed one shrivelled hand against the -other, looking with awe at the fine figure of a man before him. - -"A banging lad your nephew too," he added with a chuckle; "he'll be -turning the heads of all the girls this side o' Brassington, maybe." - -"Oh! I'll warrant he's got a sweetheart at home, eh, Jim lad?--or maybe -more than one. But what brings ye here this day, friend Miggs?" - -The wizened little face assumed a puzzled expression. - -"I dunno..." he said vaguely, "maybe I wanted to tell ye about the -soldiers I seed at the Royal George over Brassington way." - -"What about 'em, Miggs?" - -"_I_ dunno.... I see a corporal and lots of fellers in red .... some -say there's more o' them ... I dunno." - -"Ha!" said Stich, carelessly, "What are they after?" - -"_I_ dunno," commented Miggs, imperturbably. "Some say they're after -that chap Beau Brocade. There was a coach stopped on the Heath 'gain -last night. Fifty guineas he took out of it, he did...." And Jock -Miggs chuckled feebly with apparent but irresponsible delight. "Some -folk say it were Sir Humphrey Challoner's coach over from Hartington, -and no one's going to break their hearts over that! he! he! he! ... but -_I_ dunno," he added with sudden frightened vagueness. - -"Be they cavalry soldiers over at the Royal George, Miggs?" asked John. - -"_I_ dunno ... I seed no horses ... looks more like foot soldiers ... -but _I_ dunno. The Corporal he read out something just now about our -getting twenty guineas if we shoot one o' them rebels. I'd be mighty -glad to get twenty guineas, Master Stich," he said reflectively, "but I -dunno as how I could handle a musket rightly ... and folks say them -traitors are mighty desperate fellows ... but I dunno..." - -Then with sudden resolution Jock Miggs turned to the doorway. - -"Morning, Master Stich," he said decisively. "Morning, lad! ... -morning." - -"Morning, Miggs." - -However, it seemed that Jock Miggs's visit to the forge was not so -purposeless as it at first appeared. - -"He! he! he!" he chuckled, as if suddenly recollecting his errand. "I'd -almost forgot why I came. Farmer Crabtree wanted to know, Master Stich, -if you'm got the wether's collar mended yet?" - -"Oh, yes, to be sure," replied the smith, pointing to a rough bench on -which lay a number of metal articles. "You'll find it on that there -bench, Jock. Farmer Crabtree sold his sheep yet?" - -Jock toddled up to the bench and picked up the wether's collar. - -"Noa!" he muttered, "not yet, worse luck! And his temper is that hot! -So don't 'ee charge him too much for the collar, Master Stich, or it's -me that'll have to suffer." - -And Miggs rubbed his shoulder significantly. Stich laughed. Philip -himself, in spite of his anxiety, could not help being amused at the -quaint figure of the little shepherd with his wizened face and gentle, -vaguely fatalistic manner. - -Thus it was that no one in the forge had perceived the patter of small -feet on the mud outside, and when Jock Miggs, with more elaborate -"Mornings" and final leave-takings, once more reached the doorway, he -came in violent collision with a short, be-cloaked and closely-hooded -figure that was picking its way on very small, very high-heeled shoes, -through the maze of puddles which guarded the entrance to the forge. - -The impact sent Jock Miggs, scared and apologetic, stumbling in one -direction, whilst the grey hood flew off the head of its wearer and -disclosed in the setting of its shell-pink lining a merry, pretty, -impudent little face, with brown eyes sparkling and red lips pouting in -obvious irritation. - -"Lud, man!" said the dainty young damsel, withering the unfortunate -shepherd with a scornful glance, "why don't you look where you're -going?" - -"I dunno," replied Jock Miggs, with his usual humble vagueness. -"Morning, miss ... morning, Master Stich ... morning." - -And still scared, still in obvious apology for his existence, he pulled -at his forelock, re-adjusted his hat over his yellow curls, took his -final leave, and presently began to wend his way slowly back towards the -Heath. - -But within the forge, at first bound of the young girl's voice, Stretton -had started in uncontrollable excitement. - -"Betty!" he whispered, eagerly clutching John Stich's arm. - -"Aye! aye!" replied the cautious smith, "but I beg you, my lord, keep in -the background until I find out if all is safe." - -Mistress Betty's saucy brown eyes followed Jock Miggs's quaint, -retreating figure. - -"Well! you're a pretty bit of sheep's wool, ain't ye?" she shouted after -him, with a laugh and a shrug of her plump shoulders. - -Then she peered into the forge. - -"Lud love you, Master Stich!" she said, "how goes it with you?" - -In obedience to counsels of prudence, Stretton had retired into the -remote corner of the forge. John Stich too was masking the entrance -with his burly figure. - -"All the better, Mistress Betty," he said, "for a sight of your pretty -face." - -He had become very red, had honest John, and his rough manner seemed -completely to have deserted him. In fact, not to put too fine a point -upon it, the worthy smith looked distinctly shy and sheepish. - -She looked up at him and laughed a pleased, coquettish little laugh, the -laugh of a woman who has oft been told that she is pretty, and has not -tired of the hearing. John Stich, moreover, was so big and burly, folks -called him hard and rough, and it vastly entertained the young damsel to -see him standing there before her, as awkward and uncomfortable as Jock -Miggs himself. - -"Am I not to step inside, Master Stich?" she asked. - -"Yes, yes, Mistress Betty," murmured John, who seemed to have lost -himself in admiration of a pair of tiny buckled shoes muddy to the -ankles--such ankles!--which showed to great advantage beneath Betty's -short green kirtle. - -An angry, impatient movement behind him, however, quickly recalled his -scattered senses. - -"Did her ladyship receive a letter, mistress?" he asked eagerly. - -"Oh, yes! a stranger brought it," replied Betty, with a pout, for she -preferred John's mute appreciation of her small person to his interest -in other matters. However, the demon of mischief no doubt whispered -something in her ear for the further undoing of the worthy smith, for -she put on a demure, mysterious little air, turned up her brown eyes, -sighed with affectation, and murmured ecstatically,-- - -"Oh! such a stranger! the fine eyes of him, Master Stich! and such an -air, and oh!" added little madam with unction, "such clothes!" - -But though no doubt all these fine airs and graces wrought deadly havoc -in poor John's heart, he concealed it well enough under a show of eager -impatience. - -"Yes! yes! the stranger," he said, casting a furtive glance behind him, -"he gave you a letter for my lady?" - -"La! you needn't be in such a hurry, Master Stich!" retorted Mistress -Betty, adding with all the artifice of which she was capable, "the -stranger wasn't." - -But this was too much for John. There had been such a wealth of meaning -in Betty's brown eyes. - -"Oh! he wasn't? was he?" he asked with a jealous frown, "and pray what -had he to say to you? There was no message except the letter." - -But the demon of mischief was satisfied and Betty was disposed to be -kind, even if slightly mysterious. - -"Oh, never mind!" she rejoined archly, "he gave me a letter which I gave -to my lady. That was early this morning." - -"Well? ... and?" - -But matters were progressing too slowly at anyrate for one feverish, -anxious heart. Philip had tried to hold himself in check, though he was -literally hanging on pretty Mistress Betty's lips. Now he could contain -himself no longer. Lady Patience had had his letter. The mysterious -highwayman had not failed in his trust, and the news Betty had brought -meant life or death to him. - -Throwing prudence to the winds, he pushed John Stich aside, and seizing -the young girl by the wrist, he asked excitedly,-- - -"Yes? this morning, Betty? ... then ... then ... what did her ladyship -do?" - -Betty was frightened, and like a child was ready to drown her fright in -tears. She had not recognised my lord in those dirty clothes. - -"Don't you know me, Betty?" asked Philip, a little more quietly. - -Betty cast a timid glance at the two men before her, and smiled through -the coming tears. - -"Of course, my lord ... I ..." she murmured shyly. - -"'Tis my nephew Jim out o' Nottingham, mistress," said John, sternly, -"try and remember that: and now tell us what did her ladyship do?" - -"She had the horses put to, not an hour after the stranger had been. -Thomas is driving and Timothy is our only other escort. But we've not -drawn rein since we left the Hall!" - -"Yes! yes!" came from two pairs of eager lips. - -"And my lady stopped the coach about two hundred yards from here," -continued Betty with great volubility, "and she told me to run on here, -to see that the coast was clear. She knew I could find my way, and she -wouldn't trust Timothy as she trusts me," added the young girl with a -pretty touch of pride. - -"But where is she, Betty? where is she?" - -Betty pointed to the clump of firs, which stood like ghostly sentinels -on the crest of the hill, just where the road turns sharply to the east. - -"Just beyond those trees, my lord, and she made Timothy watch until I -came round the bend and in sight of the forge. But la! the mud on the -roads! 'tis fit to drown you." - -But already John Stich was outside, beckoning to Mistress Betty. - -"Come, mistress, quick!" he said excitedly, "her ladyship must be nigh -crazy with impatience. By your leave, my lord, I'll help Mistress Betty -on her way, and I'll keep this place in sight. I'll go no further..." - -"Yes, yes," rejoined Philip, feverishly, "go, go, fly if you can! I'll -be safe! I'll not show myself. God give you both wings, for I'll not -live now till I see my sister." - -Eager, boyish, full of wild gaiety, he seemed to have thrown off his -morbid anxiety as he would a mantle. He even laughed whole-heartedly as -he watched Betty, with many airs and graces, "Luds!" and "I vows!" -making great pretence at being unable to walk in the mud, and leaning -heavily on honest Stich's arm. - -He watched them as they picked their way up the so-called road, a -perfect quagmire after the heavy September rains. - -The air seemed so different now, the Heath smelt good, there was vigour -and life in the keen nor'-wester; how green the bracken looked, and how -harmoniously it seemed to blend with the purple shoots of the bramble -laden with ripening fruit! how delicate the more tender green of the -gorse, and there that vivid patch of mauve, the first glimpse of opening -heather! the heavy clouds too were rolling away; the September sun was -going to have his own way after all and spread his kingdom of blue and -gold over the distant Derbyshire hills. - -Hope had come like the divine magician to chase away all that was grey -and sad and dreary, and Hope had met Youth and shaken him by the hand: -they are such friends, such inseparable companions, these two! - -What mattered it that some few yards away the old gallows, like some -eerie witch, still spread its gaunt arm over that fluttering bit of -parchment: the Proclamation of His Majesty's Parliament? What though it -spoke of death, of treachery, of bills of attainder, of Tower Hill? - -Did not the good nor'-wester from the Moor flutter round it, and in -wanton frolic attack it now with madcap fury and a shrill whistle, and -now with a long-drawn-out sigh. The parchment resisted with vigour, it -bore the onslaught of the wind twice, thrice, and once again. But the -nor'-wester was not to be outdone, and again it renewed the attack, took -the parchment by the corner, pulled and twisted at it, until at last -with one terrific blast it tore the Royal Proclamation off the old -gallows, and sent it whirling in a mad gallop across the Moor, far, very -far away on to Derby, to London, to the place where all winds go. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - "THERE'S NONE LIKE HER, NONE!" - - -There was something more than ordinary affection between Philip, Earl of -Stretton, and his sister, Lady Patience Gascoyne. Those who knew them -in the days of their happiness said they seemed more like lovers than -brother and sister, so tender, so true was their clinging devotion to -one another. - -But those who knew them both intimately said that they were more like -mother and son together; though Philip was only a year or two younger -than Patience, she had all a mother's fondness, a mother's indulgence -and sweet pity for him, he all a son's deference, a son's trust in her. - -Even now, as he instinctively felt her dear presence nigh, hope took a -more firm, more lasting hold upon him. He knew that she would act -wisely and prudently for him. For the first time for many days and -weeks he felt safe, less morbidly afraid of treachery, more ready to -fight adverse fate. - -The heavy coach came lumbering along the quaggy road, the old coachman's -"Whoa! whoa! there! there!" as he tried to encourage his horses in the -heavy task of pulling the cumbersome vehicle through the morass, sounded -like sweetest music in Philip's ear. - -He did not dare go to meet them, but he watched the coach as it drew -nearer and nearer, very slowly, the horses going step by step urged on -by the coachman and by Timothy, who rode close at their heads, spurring -them with whip and kind words, the wheels creaking as they slowly turned -on their mud-laden axles. - -Thus Patience had travelled since dawn, ever since the stranger had -brought her the letter which told her that her brother had succeeded in -reaching this secluded corner of Derbyshire, and was now in hiding with -faithful John Stich, waiting for her guidance and help to establish his -innocence. - -Leaning back against the cushions of the coach, she had sat with eyes -closed and hands tightly clutched. Anxious, wearied, at times hopeful, -she had borne the terrible fatigue of this lumbering journey from -Stretton Hall, along the unmade roads of Brassing Moor, with all the -fortitude the Gascoynes had always shown for any cause they had at -heart. - -At the cross-roads Thomas, the driver, brought his horses to a -standstill. Already, as the coach had passed some fifty yards from the -forge, Patience had leaned out of the window trying to get a glimpse of -the dear face which she knew would be on the lookout for her. - -John Stich had escorted Betty as far as the bend in the road, and within -sight of Timothy waiting some hundred yards further on, then he had -retraced his steps, and was now back at the cross-roads ready to help -Lady Patience to alight. - -"Let the coach wait here," she said to the driver, "we may sleep at -Wirksworth to-night." - -"Ah! my good Stich," she added, grasping the smith's hand eagerly, "my -brother, how is he?" - -"All the better since he knows your ladyship has come," replied Stich. - -A few moments later brother and sister were locked in each other's arms. - -"My sweet sister! My dear, dear Patience!" was all Philip could say at -first. - -But she placed one hand on his shoulder and with a gentle motherly -gesture brushed with the other the unruly curls from the white, moist -forehead. He looked haggard and careworn, although his eyes now gleamed -with feverish hope, and hers, in spite of herself, began to fill with -tears. - -"Dear, dear one," she murmured, trying to look cheerful, to push back -the tears. All would be well now that she could get to him, that they -could talk things over, that she could _do_ something for him and with -him, instead of sitting--weary and inactive--alone at Stretton Hall, -without news, a prey to devouring anxiety. - -"That awful Proclamation," he said at last--"you have heard of it?" - -"Aye!" she replied sadly, "even before you did, I think. Sir Humphrey -Challoner sent a courier across to tell me of it." - -"And my name amongst those attainted by Act of Parliament!" - -She nodded, her lips were quivering, and she would not break down, now -that he needed all her courage as well as his own. - -"But I am innocent, dear," he said, taking both her tiny hands in his -own, and looking firmly, steadfastly into her face. "You believe me, -don't you?" - -"Of course, Philip, I believe you. But it is all so hard, so horrible, -and 'tis Heaven alone who knows which was the just cause." - -"There is no doubt as to which was the stronger cause, at anyrate in -England," said Stretton, with some bitterness. "Charles Edward was very -ill-advised to cross the border at all, and in the Midlands no one cares -about the Stuarts now. But that's all ancient history," he added with a -weary sigh, "it's no use dwelling over all the wretched mistakes that -were committed last year, 'tis only the misery that has abided until -now." - -"Why did you run away, Philip?" she asked. - -"Because I was a fool ... and a coward," he added, while a blush of -shame darkened his young Saxon face. - -"No, no..." - -"I thought if I remained at Stretton Charles Edward would demand my help -... and you know," he said with a quaint boyish smile, "I was never very -good at saying 'Nay!' I knew they would persuade me. Lovat and -Kilmarnock were such friends, and..." - -"So you preferred to run away?" - -"It was cowardly, wasn't it?" - -"I am afraid it was," she said reluctantly, her tenderness and her -conviction fighting an even battle in her heart. "But why wouldn't you -tell me, dear?" - -"Because I was a fool," he said, cursing himself for that same folly. -"You were away in London just then, you remember?" - -She nodded. - -"And there was no one to advise me, except Challoner." - -"Sir Humphrey? Then it was he?..." - -Philip looked at her in astonishment. There was such a strange quiver -in her voice; a note of deep anxiety, of almost hysterical alarm. But -she checked herself quickly, and said more calmly,-- - -"What did Sir Humphrey Challoner advise you to do?" - -"He said that Charles Edward would surely persuade me to join his -standard, that he would demand shelter at Stretton Hall, and claim my -allegiance." - -"Yes, yes?" - -"And he thought that it would be wiser for me to put two or three -counties between myself and the temptation of becoming a rebel." - -"He thought!..." - -There was a world of bitter contempt in those two words she uttered. -Even Philip, absorbed as he was in his own affairs, could not fail to -notice it. - -"Challoner has always been my friend," he said almost reproachfully. "I -fancy, little sister," he added with his boyish smile, "that it rests -with you that he should become my brother." - -"Hush, dear, don't speak of that." - -"Why not?" - -She did not reply, and there was a moment's silence between them. She -was evidently hesitating whether to tell him of the fears, the -suspicions which the mention of Sir Humphrey Challoner's name had -aroused in her heart, or to leave the subject alone. At last she said -quite gently,-- - -"But when I came home, dear, and found you had left the Hall without a -message, without a word for me, why did you not tell me then?" - -The boy hung his head. He felt the tender reproach, and there was -nothing to be said. - -"I would have stood by you," she continued softly. "I think I might -have helped you. There was no disgrace in refusing to join a doomed -cause, and you were a mere child when you made friends with Lovat." - -"I know all that now, dear," he said with some impatience. "Heaven -knows I am paying dearly enough for my cowardice and my folly. But even -now I cannot understand how my name became mixed up with those of the -rebels. Somebody must have sworn false information against me. But -who? I haven't an enemy in the world, have I, dear?" - -"No, no," she said quickly, but even as she spoke the look of -involuntary alarm in her face belied the assurance of her lips. - -But this was not the moment to add to his anxiety by futile, worrying -conjectures. He had sent for her because he wanted her, and she was -here to do for him, to help and support him in every way that her -strength of will and her energy would dictate. - -"You sent for me, Philip," she said with a cheerful, hopeful smile. - -Her look seemed to put fresh life into his veins. In a moment he tried -to conquer his despondency, and with a quick gesture he tore open the -rough, woollen shirt he wore, and from beneath it drew a packet of -letters. Not only his hand now, but his whole figure seemed to quiver -with excitement as he gazed at this packet with glowing eyes. - -"These letters, dear," he said in a whisper, "are my one hope of safety. -They have not left my body day or night ever since I first understood my -position and realised my danger, and now, with them, I place my life in -your hands." - -"Yes, Philip?" - -"They prove my innocence," he continued, as nervously he pulled at the -string that held the letters together. "Here is one from Lovat," he -added, handing one of these to Patience, "read it, dear, quickly. You -will see he begs me to join the Pretender's standard. Here's another -from Kilmarnock--that was after the retreat from Derby--he upbraids me -for holding aloof. I was in hiding at Nottingham then, but _they_ knew -where I was, and would not leave me alone. They would have followed me -if they could. And here ... better still ... is one from Charles Edward -himself, just before he fled to France, calling me a traitor for my -loyalty to King George." - -Feverishly he tore open letter after letter, thrusting them into her -hand, scanning them with burning, eager eyes. She took them from him -one by one, glanced at them, then quietly folded each precious piece of -paper, and tied the packet together again. Her hand did not shake, but -beneath her cloak she pressed the letters to her heart, the letters that -meant the safety of her dear one's life. - -"Oh! if I had known all this sooner!" she sighed involuntarily. - -But that was the only reproach that escaped her lips for his want of -confidence in her. - -"I nearly yielded to Lovat's letter," said the boy, hesitatingly. - -"I know, I know, dear," she said with an infinity of indulgence in her -gentle smile. "We won't speak of the past any more. Now let us arrange -the future." - -He tried to master his excitement, throwing off with an effort of will -his feverishness and his morbid self-condemnation. - -He had done a foolish and a cowardly thing; he knew that well enough. -Fate had dealt him one of those cruel blows with which she sometimes -strikes the venial offender, letting so often the more hardened criminal -go scatheless. - -For months now Philip had been a fugitive, disguised in rough clothes, -hiding in barns and inns of doubtful fame, knowing no one whom he could -really trust, to whom he dared disclose his place of temporary refuge, -or confide a message for his sister. Treachery was in the air; he -suspected everyone. The bill of attainder had condemned so many men to -death, and rebel-hunting and swift executions were in that year of grace -the order of the day. - -"I could do nothing without you, dear," he said more quietly. "I must -hide now like a hunted beast, and must be grateful for the sheltering -roof of honest Stich. I have been branded as a traitor by Act of -Parliament, my life is forfeit, and it is even a crime for any man to -give me food and shelter. The lowest footpad who haunts the Moor has the -right to shoot me like a mad dog." - -"Don't! don't, dear!" she pleaded. - -"I only wished you to understand that I was not such an abject coward as -I seemed. I could not get to you or reach the Hall." - -"I quite understood that, dear. Now, tell me, you wish me to take these -letters to London?" - -"At once. The sooner they are laid before the King and Council the -better. I must get to the fountain head as quickly as possible. Once I -am caught they will give me no chance of proving my innocence. I have -been tried by Act of Parliament, found guilty and condemned to death. -You realise that, dear, don't you?" - -"Yes, Philip, I do," she replied very quietly. - -"Once in London, who do you think can best help you?" - -"Lady Edbrooke, of course. Her husband has just been appointed equerry -to the King." - -"Ah! that's well! Aunt Charlotte was always fond of me. She'll be kind -to you, I know." - -"I think you should write to her. I'd take that letter too." - -"When can you start?" - -"Not for a few hours unfortunately. The horses must be put up. We have -been on the road since dawn." - -They were both quite calm now, and discussed these few details as if -life or death were not the outcome of the journey. - -Patience was glad to see that the boy had entirely shaken off the almost -hysterical horror he had of his unfortunate position. - -They were suddenly interrupted by John Stich's cautious voice at the -entrance of the shed. - -"Your ladyship's pardon," said John, respectfully, "but there's a coach -coming up the road from Hartington way. I thought perhaps it might be -more prudent..." - -"Hartington!" - -Brother and sister had uttered the exclamation simultaneously. He in -astonishment, she in obvious alarm. - -"Who can it be, John, think you?" she asked with quivering lips. - -"Well, it couldn't very well be anyone except Sir Humphrey Challoner, my -lady. No one else'd have occasion to come down these God-forsaken -roads. But they are some way off yet," he added reassuringly, "I saw -them first on the crest of the further hill. Maybe his Honour is on his -way to Derby." - -Patience was trying to conquer her agitation, but it was her turn now to -seem nervous and excited. - -"Oh! I didn't want him to find me here!" she said quickly. "I ... I -mistrust that man, Philip ... foolishly perhaps, and ... if he sees me -... he might guess ... he might suspect..." - -"Nay, my lady, there's not much fear of that, craving your pardon," -hazarded John Stich, cheerfully. "If 'tis Sir Humphrey 'twill take his -driver some time yet to walk down the incline, and then up again to the -cross-roads. 'Tis a mile and a half for sure, and the horses'll have to -go foot pace. There's plenty of time for your ladyship to be well on -your way before they get here." - -She felt reassured evidently, for she said more calmly,-- - -"I'll have to put up somewhere, John, for a few hours, for the sake of -the horses. Where had that best be?" - -"Up at Aldwark, I should say, my lady, at the Moorhen." - -"Perhaps I could get fresh horses there, and make a start at once." - -"Nay, my lady, they have no horses at the Moorhen fit for your ladyship -to drive. 'Tis only a country inn. But they'd give your horses and men -a feed and rest, and if your ladyship'll pardon the liberty, you'll need -both yourself." - -"Yes, yes," said Philip, anxiously regarding the beautiful face which -looked so pale and weary. "You must rest, dear. The journey to London -will be long and tedious ..." - -"But Aldwark is not on my way," she said with a slight frown of -impatience. - -"The inn is but a mile from here, your ladyship," rejoined Stich, "and -your horses could never reach Wirksworth without a long rest. 'Tis the -best plan, an your ladyship would trust me!" - -"Trust you, John!" she said with a sweet smile, as she extended one tiny -hand to the faithful smith. "I trust you implicitly, and you shall give -me your advice. What is it?" - -"To put up at the Moorhen for the night, your ladyship," explained John, -whose kindly eyes had dropped a tear over the gracious hand held out to -him, "then to start for London to-morrow morning." - -"No, no! I must start to-night. I could not bear to wait even until -dawn." - -"But the footpads on the Heath, your ladyship..." hazarded John. - -"Nay, I fear no footpads. They're welcome to what money I have, and -they'd not care to rob me of my letters," she said eagerly. "But I'll -put up at the Moorhen, John. We all need a rest. I suppose there's no -way across the Heath from thence to Wirksworth." - -"None, your ladyship. This is the only possible way. Back here to the -cross-roads and on to Wirksworth from here." - -"Then I'll see you again, dear," she said tenderly, clinging to -Stretton, "at sunset mayhap. I'll start as soon as I can. You may be -sure of that." - -"And guard the letters, little sister," he said as he held her closely, -closely to his heart. "Guard them jealously, they are my only hope." - -"You'll write the letter to Lady Edbrooke," she added. "Have it ready -when I return, and perhaps write out your own petition to the King--I'll -use that or not as Lord Edbrooke advises." - -Then once more, womanlike, she clung to him, hating to part from him -even for a few hours. - -"In the meanwhile you will be prudent, Philip," she pleaded tenderly. -"Trust _nobody_ but John Stich. _Any_ man may prove an enemy," she -added with earnest emphasis, "and if you were found before I could reach -the King..." - -She tore herself away from him. Her eyes now were swimming in tears, -and she meant to seem brave to the end. Stich was urging her to hurry. -After all she would see Philip again before sunset, before she started -on the long journey which would mean life and safety to him. - -Two minutes later, having parted from her brother, Lady Patience -Gascoyne entered her coach at the cross-roads, where Mistress Betty had -been waiting for her ladyship with as much patience as she could muster. - -By the time Sir Humphrey Challoner's coach had reached the bottom of the -decline on the Hartington Road, and begun the weary ascent up to the -blacksmith's forge, Lady Patience's carriage was well out of sight -beyond the bend that led eastward to Aldwark village. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - A SQUIRE OF HIGH DEGREE - - -The Challoners claimed direct descent from that Sieur de Challonier who -escorted Coeur de Lion to the crusade against Saladin. - -Be that as it may, there is no doubt that a De Challonier figures in the -Domesday Book, as owning considerable property in the neighbourhood of -the Peak. - -That they had been very influential and wealthy people at one time, -there could be no doubt. There was a room at Old Hartington Manor where -James I. had slept for seven nights, a gracious guest of Mr Ilbert -Challoner, in the year 1612. The baronetcy then conferred upon the -family dates from that same year, probably as an act of recognition to -his host on the part of the royal guest. - -Since that memorable time, however, the Challoners have not made -history. They took no part whatever in the great turmoil which, in the -middle of the seventeenth century, shook the country to its very -foundations, lighting the lurid torch of civil war, setting brother -against brother, friend against friend, threatening a constitution and -murdering a king. - -The Challoners had held aloof throughout all that time, intent on -preserving their property and in amassing wealth. The later conflict -between a Catholic King and his Protestant people touched them even -less. Neither Pretender could boast of a Challoner for an adherent. -They remained people of substance, even of importance, in their own -county, but nothing more. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner was about this time not more than thirty-five -years of age. Hale, hearty, boisterous, he might have been described as -a typical example of an English squire of those days, but for a certain -taint of parsimoniousness, of greed and love of money in his -constitution, which had gained for him a not too enviable reputation in -the Midlands. - -He was thought to be wealthy. No doubt he was, but at the cost of a -good deal of harshness towards the tenants on his estates, and he was -famed throughout Staffordshire for driving a harder bargain than anyone -else this country side. - -Any traveller--let alone one of such consequence as the Squire of -Hartington--was indeed rare in these out-of-the-way parts, that were on -the way to nowhere. Sir Humphrey himself was but little known in the -neighbourhood of Aldwark and Wirksworth, and only from time to time -passed through the latter village on his way to Derby. - -John Stich, the blacksmith, however, knew every one of consequence for a -great many miles around, and undoubtedly next to the Earls of Stretton -the Challoners were the most important family in the sister counties. -Therefore when Sir Humphrey's coach stopped at the cross-roads, and the -Squire himself alighted therefrom and walked towards the smith's -cottage, the latter came forward with all the deference due to a -personage of such consequence, and asked respectfully what he might do -for his Honour. - -"Only repair this pistol for me, master smith," said Sir Humphrey; "you -might also examine the lock of its fellow. One needs them in these -parts." - -He laughed a not unpleasant boisterous laugh as he handed a pair of -silver-mounted pistols to John Stich. - -"Will your Honour wait while I get them done?" asked John, with some -hesitation. "They won't take long." - -"Nay! I'll be down this way again to-morrow," replied his Honour. "I -am putting up at Aldwark for the night." - -John said nothing. Probably he mistrusted the language which rose to -his lips at this announcement of Sir Humphrey's plans. In a moment he -remembered Lady Patience's look of terror when the squire's coach first -came into view on the crest of the distant hill, and his faithful, -honest heart quivered with apprehension at the thought that a man whom -she so obviously mistrusted was so close upon her track. - -"I suppose there is a decent inn in that God-forsaken hole, eh?" asked -the Squire, jovially. "I've arranged to meet my man of business there, -that old scarecrow, Mittachip, but I'd wish to spend the night." - -"There's only a small wayside inn, your Honour..." murmured John. - -"Better than this abode of cut-throats, this Brassing Moor, anyway," -laughed his Honour. "Begad! night overtook me some ten miles from -Hartington, and I was attacked by a damned rascal who robbed me of fifty -guineas. My men were a pair of cowards, and I was helpless inside my -coach." - -John tried to repress a smile. The story of Sir Humphrey Challoner's -midnight adventure had culminated in fifty guineas being found in the -poor box at Brassington court-house, and Mr Inch, the beadle, had -brought the news of it even as far as the cross-roads. - -"I must see Squire West about this business," muttered Sir Humphrey, -whilst John stood silent, apparently intent on examining the pistols. -"'Tis a scandal to the whole country, this constant highway robbery on -Brassing Moor. The impudent rascal who attacked me was dressed like a -prince, and rode a horse worth eighty guineas at the least. I suspect -him to be the man they call Beau Brocade." - -"Did your Honour see him plainly?" asked John, somewhat anxiously. - -"See him?" laughed Sir Humphrey. "Does one ever see these rascals? -Begad! he had stopped my coach, plundered me and had galloped off ere I -could shout 'Damn you' thrice. Just for one moment, though, one of my -lanterns flashed upon the impudent thief. He was masked, of course, but -I tell thee, honest friend, he had on a coat the Prince of Wales might -envy; as for his horse, 'twas a thorough-bred I'd have given eighty -guineas to possess." - -"And everyone knows your Honour is clever at a bargain," said John, with -a suspicion of malice. - -"Humph!" grunted the Squire. "By Gad!" he added, with his usual jovial -laugh, "the rogue does not belie his name--'Beau Brocade' forsooth! -Faith! he dresses like a lord, and cuts your purse with an air of -gallantry, an he were doing you a favour." - -It was difficult to tell what went on in Sir Humphrey Challoner's mind -behind that handsome, somewhat florid face of his. The task was in any -case quite beyond the powers of honest John Stich, though he would have -given quite a good deal of his worldly wealth to know for certain -whether his Honour's journey across Brassing Moor and on to Aldwark had -anything to do with that of Lady Patience along the same road. - -Nothing the Squire said, however, helped John towards making a guess in -that direction. Just as Sir Humphrey, having left the pistols in the -smith's hands, turned to go back to his coach, he said quite casually,-- - -"Whose was the coach that passed here about half an hour before mine?" - -"The coach, your Honour?" - -"Aye! when we reached the crest of the hill my man told me he could see -a coach standing at the cross-roads, whose was it?" - -For one moment John hesitated. The situation was just a little too -delicate for the worthy smith to handle. But he felt, as Sir Humphrey -was going to Aldwark and therefore would surely meet Lady Patience, that -lying would be worse than useless, and might even arouse unpleasant -suspicions. - -"'Twas Lady Patience Gascoyne's coach," he said at last. - -"Ah!" said the Squire, with the same obvious indifference. "Whither did -she go?" - -"I was at work in my forge, your Honour, and her ladyship did not stop. -I fancy she drove down Wirksworth way, but I did not see or hear for I -was very busy." - -"Hm!" commented his Honour, whilst a shrewd and somewhat sarcastic smile -played round the corners of his full lips. - -"I'll stay the night at Aldwark," he said, nodding to the smith. -"Faith! no more travelling after dark for me on this unhallowed Moor; -and for sure my horses could not reach Wirksworth now before nightfall. -So have the pistols ready for me by seven o'clock to-morrow morning, eh, -mine honest friend?" - -Then he entered his carriage, and slowly, with many a creak and a groan, -the cumbersome vehicle turned down the road to Aldwark, whilst John -Stich, with a dubious, anxious sigh, went back into his forge. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE HALT AT THE MOORHEN - - -Patience herself would have been quite unable to explain why she -mistrusted, almost feared, Sir Humphrey Challoner. - -The fact that the Squire of Hartington had openly declared his -admiration for her, surely gave her no cause for suspecting him of -enmity towards her brother. She knew that Sir Humphrey hoped to win her -hand in marriage--this he had intimated to her on more than one -occasion, and had spoken of his love for her in no measured terms. - -Lady Patience Gascoyne was one of the richest gentlewomen in the -Midlands, having inherited vast wealth from her mother, who was sister -and co-heiress of the rich Grantham of Grantham Priory. No doubt her -rent-roll added considerably to her attractions in the eyes of Sir -Humphrey; that she was more than beautiful only helped to enhance the -ardour of his suit. - -Women as a rule--women of all times and of every nation--keep a kindly -feeling in their heart for the suitor whom they reject. A certain -regard for his sense of discrimination, an admiration for his -constancy--if he be constant--make up a sum of friendship for him -tempered with a gentle pity. - -But in most women too there is a subtle sense which for want of a more -scientific term has been called an instinct: the sense of protection -over those whom they love. - -In Patience Gascoyne that sense was abnormally developed: Philip was so -boyish, so young, she so much older in wisdom and prudence. It made her -fear Sir Humphrey, not for herself but for her brother: her baby, as in -her tender motherly heart she loved to call him. - -She feared and suspected him, she scarce could tell of what. Not open -enmity towards Philip, since her reason told her that the Squire of -Hartington had nothing to gain by actively endangering her brother's -life, let alone by doing him a grievous wrong. - -Yet she could not understand Sir Humphrey Challoner's motive in -counselling Philip to play so cowardly and foolish a part, as the boy -had done in the late rebellion. Vaguely she trembled at the idea that -he should know of her journey to London, or worse still, guess its -purpose. Philip, she feared, might have confided in him unbeknown to -her: Sir Humphrey, for aught she knew, might know of the existence of -the letters which would go to prove the boy's innocence. - -Well! and what then? Surely the Squire could have no object in wishing -those letters to be suppressed: he could but desire that Philip's -innocence _should_ be proved. - -Thus reason and instinct fought their battle in her brain as the heavy -coach went lumbering along the muddy road to the little wayside inn, -which stood midway between the cross-roads and the village of Aldwark. - -Here her man Timothy made arrangements for the resting and feeding of -himself, the horses and Thomas, the driver, whilst Lady Patience asked -for a private room wherein she and her maid, Betty, could get something -to eat and perhaps an hour's sleep before re-starting on their way. - -The small bar-parlour at the Moorhen was full to overflowing when her -ladyship's coach drove up. Already there had been a general air of -excitement there throughout the day, for the Corporal in his red coat, -followed by his little squad, had halted at the inn, and there once more -read aloud the Proclamation of His Majesty's Parliament. - -The soldiers had stayed half an hour or so, consuming large quantities -of ale the while, then they had marched up to the village, read the -Proclamation out on the green, and finally tramped along the bridle-path -back to Brassington. - -And now here was the quality putting up at the Moorhen. A most -unheard-of, unexpected event. Mistress Pottage, the sad-faced, -weary-eyed landlady, had never known such a thing to happen before, -although she had been mistress of the Moorhen for nigh on twenty years. -Usually the quality from Stretton Hall or from Hartington, or even Lady -Rounce from the Pike, preferred to drive a long way round to get to -Derby, sooner than trust to the lonely Heath, with its roads almost -impassable four days out of five. - -Master Mittachip, attorney-at-law, who had ridden over from Wirksworth -with his clerk, Master Duffy, recognised her ladyship as she stepped out -of her coach. - -"Sir Humphrey will be astonished," he whispered to Master Duffy, as he -rubbed his ill-shaven chin with his long bony fingers. - -"He! he! he!" echoed the clerk, submissively. - -Master Mittachip, who transacted business for the Squire of Hartington, -and also for old Lady Rounce and Squire West, knew the exact shade of -deference due to so great a lady as Lady Patience Gascoyne. He stood at -the door of the parlour and had the honour of bowing to her as she -followed Mistress Pottage quickly along the passage to the inner room -beyond, her long cloak flying out behind her, owing to the draught -caused by the open doors. - -Alone in the small, dingy room, Patience almost fell upon the sofa in a -stupor of intense fatigue. When Mistress Pottage brought the meagre, -ill-cooked food, she felt at first quite unable to eat. She lay back -against the hard pillows with eyes closed, and hands tightly clutching -that bundle of precious letters. - -Betty tried to make her comfortable. She took off her mistress's shoes -and stockings and began rubbing the cold, numb feet between her warm -hands. - -But by-and-by youth and health reasserted themselves. Patience, -realising all the time how much depended upon her own strength and -energy, roused herself with an effort of will. She tried to eat some of -the food, "the mess of pottage" as she smilingly termed it, but her eyes -were for ever wandering to the clock which ticked the hours--oh! so -slowly!--that separated her from her journey. - -As for buxom little Betty, she had fallen to with the vigorous appetite -of youth and a happy heart, and presently, like a tired child, she -curled herself up at the foot of the couch and soon dropped peacefully -to sleep. - -After awhile, Patience too, feeling numb and drowsy with the weariness -of this long afternoon, closed her eyes and fell into a kind of stupor. -She lay on the sofa like a log, tired out, dreamless, her senses numbed, -in a kind of wakeful sleep. - -How long she lay there she could not have told, but all of a sudden she -sat up, her eyes dilated, her heart beating fast; she was fully awake -now. - -Something had suddenly roused her. What was it? She glanced at the -clock; it was just half-past three. She must have slept nearly half an -hour. Betty, on the floor beside her, still slumbered peacefully. - -Then all her senses woke. She knew what had aroused her: the rumbling -of wheels, a coach pulling up, the shouts of the driver. And now she -could hear men running, more shouting, the jingle of harness and horses -being led round the house to the shed beyond. - -The small lattice window gave upon the side of the house, she could not -see the coach or who this latest arrival at the Moorhen was; but what -mattered that? she knew well enough. - -For a moment she stopped to think; forcibly conquering excitement and -alarm, she called to her reason to tell her what to do. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner's presence here might be a coincidence, she had -no cause to suspect that he was purposely following her. But in any -case she wished to avoid him. How could that best be done? - -Mittachip, the lawyer, had seen and recognised her. Within the next few -moments the Squire would hear of her presence at the inn. He too, -obviously, had come to rest his horses here. How long would he stay? - -She roused Betty. - -"Betty! child!" she whispered. "Wake up! We must leave this place at -once." - -Betty opened her eyes: she saw her mistress's pale, excited face bending -over her, and she jumped to her feet. - -"Listen, Betty," continued Patience. "Sir Humphrey Challoner has just -come by coach. I want to leave this place before he knows that I am -here." - -"But the horses are not put to, my lady." - -"Sh! don't talk so loud, child. I am going to slip out along the -passage, there is a door at the end of it which must give upon the back -of the house. As soon as I am gone, do you go to the parlour and tell -Thomas to have the horses put to directly they have had sufficient rest, -and to let the coach be at the cross-roads as soon as may be after -that." - -"Yes, my lady." - -"Then as quickly as you can, slip out of the house and follow the road -that leads to the forge. I'll be on the lookout for you. I'll not have -gone far. You quite understand?" - -"Oh, yes! my lady!" - -"You are not afraid?" - -Mistress Betty shrugged her plump shoulders. - -"In broad daylight? Oh, no, my lady! and the forge is but a mile." - -Even as she spoke Patience had wrapped her dark cloak and hood round -her. She listened intently for a few seconds. The sound of voices -seemed to come from the more remote bar-parlour: moreover, the narrow -passage at this end was quite dark: she had every chance of slipping out -unperceived. - -"Sh! sh!" she whispered to Betty as she opened the door. - -The passage was deserted: almost holding her breath, lest it should -betray her, Patience reached the door at the further end of it, Betty -anxiously watching her from the inner room. Quickly she slipped the -bolt, and the next instant she found herself looking out upon a dingy -unfenced yard, which for the moment was hopelessly encumbered with the -two huge travelling coaches: beyond these was a long wooden shed whence -proceeded the noise of voices and laughter, and the stamping and -snorting of horses: and far away the Moor to the right and left of her -stretched out in all the majesty of its awesome loneliness. - -The wind caught her cloak as she stepped out into the yard: she clutched -it tightly and held it close to her. She hoped the two coaches, which -stood between her and the shed, would effectively hide her from view -until she was past the house. The next moment, however, she heard an -exclamation behind her, then the sound of firm steps upon the -flagstones, and a second or two later she stood face to face with Sir -Humphrey Challoner. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE REJECTED SUITOR - - -Whether he was surprised or not at finding her there, she could not say: -she was trying with all her might to appear astonished and unconcerned. - -He made her a low and elaborate bow, and she responded with the deep -curtsey the fashion of the time demanded. - -"Begad! the gods do indeed favour me!" he said, his good-looking, jovial -face expressing unalloyed delight. "I come to this forsaken spot on -God's earth, and find the fairest in all England treading its unworthy -soil." - -"I wish you well, Sir Humphrey," she said gently, but coldly. "I had no -thought of seeing you here." - -"Faith!" he laughed with some bitterness, "I had no hope that the -thought of seeing me had troubled your ladyship much. I am on my way to -Derby and foolishly thought to take this shorter way across the Moor. -Odd's life! I was well-nigh regretting it. I was attacked and robbed -last evening, and the heavy roads force me to spend the night in this -unhallowed tavern. But I little guessed what compensation the Fates had -in store for me." - -"I was in a like plight, Sir Humphrey," she said, trying to speak with -perfect indifference. - -"You were not robbed, surely?" - -"Nay, not that, but I hoped to reach Derby sooner by taking the short -cut across the Heath, and the state of the roads has so tired the -horses, I was forced to turn off at the cross-roads and to put up at -this inn." - -"Your ladyship is on your way to London?" - -"On a visit to my aunt, Lady Edbrooke." - -"Will you honour me by accepting my protection? 'Tis scarce fit for your -ladyship to be travelling all that way alone." - -"I thank you, Sir Humphrey," she rejoined coldly. "My man, Timothy, is -with me, besides the driver. Both are old and trusted servants. I meet -some friends at Wirksworth. I shall not be alone." - -"But..." - -"I pray you, sir, my time is somewhat short. I had started out for a -little fresh air and exercise before re-entering my coach. The inn was -so stifling and..." - -"Surely your ladyship will spend the night here. You cannot reach -Wirksworth before nightfall now. I am told the road is well-nigh -impassable." - -"Nay! 'tis two hours before sunset now, and three before dark. I hope -to reach Wirksworth by nine o'clock to-night. My horses have had a good -rest." - -"Surely you will allow me to escort you thus far, at least?" - -"Your horses need a rest, Sir Humphrey," she said impatiently, "and I -beg you to believe that I have sufficient escort." - -With a slight inclination of the head she now turned to go. From where -she stood she could just see the road winding down towards Stich's -forge, and she had caught sight of Betty's trim little figure stepping -briskly along. - -Sir Humphrey, thus obviously dismissed, could say no more for the -present. To force his escort upon her openly was unfitting the manners -of a gentleman. He bit his lip and tried to look gallantly disappointed. -His keen dark eyes had already perceived that in spite of her -self-control she was labouring under strong excitement. He forced his -harsh voice to gentleness, even to tenderness, as he said,-- - -"I have not dared to speak to your ladyship on the subject that lay -nearest my heart." - -"Sir Humphrey..." - -"Nay! I pray you do not misunderstand me. I was thinking of Philip, -and hoped you were not too unhappy about him." - -"There is no cause for unhappiness just yet," she said guardedly, "and -every cause for hope." - -"Ah! that's well!" he said cheerfully. "I entreat you not to give up -hope, and to keep some faith and trust in your humble servant, who would -give his life for you and yours." - -"My faith and trust are in God, Sir Humphrey, and in my brother's -innocence," she replied quietly. - -Then she turned and left him standing there, with a frown upon his -good-looking face, and a muttered curse upon his lips. He watched her -as she went down the road, until a sharp declivity hid her from his -view. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - SIR HUMPHREY'S FAMILIAR - - -Mistress Pottage, sad-eyed, melancholy, and for ever sighing, had been -patiently waiting to receive Sir Humphrey Challoner's orders. She had -understood from his man that his Honour meant to spend the night, and -she stood anxiously in the passage, wondering if he would consider her -best bedroom good enough, or condescend to eat the meals she would have -to cook for him. - -It was really quite fortunate that Lady Patience had gone, leaving the -smaller parlour, which was Mistress Pottage's own private sanctum, ready -for the use of his Honour. - -Sir Humphrey's mind, however, was far too busy with thoughts and plans -to dwell on the melancholy landlady and her meagre fare, but he was glad -of the private room, and was gracious enough to express himself quite -satisfied with the prospect of the best bedroom. - -Some ten minutes after his brief interview with Lady Patience he was -closeted in the same little dingy room where she had been spending such -weary hours. With the healthy appetite of a burly English squire, he -was consuming large slabs of meat and innumerable tankards of small ale, -whilst opposite to him, poised on the extreme edge of a very hard oak -chair, his watery, colourless eyes fixed upon his employer, sat Master -Mittachip, attorney-at-law and man of business to sundry of the quality -who owned property on or about the Moor. - -Master Mittachip's voice was thin, he was thin, his coat looked thin: -there was in fact a general air of attenuation about the man's whole -personality. - -Just now he was fixing a pair of very pale, but very shrewd eyes upon -the heavy, somewhat coarse person of his distinguished patron. - -"Her ladyship passed me quite close," he explained, speaking in a low, -somewhat apologetic voice. "I was standing in the door of--er--the -parlour, and she graciously nodded to me as she passed." - -"Yes! yes! get on, man," quoth Sir Humphrey, impatiently. - -"The door was open, your Honour," continued Master Mittachip in a weak -voice, "there was a draught; her ladyship's cloak flew open." - -He paused a moment, noting with evident satisfaction the increasing -interest in Sir Humphrey's face. - -"Beneath her cloak," he continued, speaking very slowly, like an actor -measuring his effects, "beneath her cloak her ladyship was holding a -bundle of letters, tightly clutched in her hand." - -"Letters, eh?" commented Sir Humphrey, eagerly. - -"A bundle of them, your Honour. One of them had a large seal attached -to it. I might almost have seen the device: it was that of..." - -"Charles Edward Stuart, the Pretender?" - -"Well! I could not say for certain, your Honour," murmured Master -Mittachip, humbly. - -There was silence for a few moments. Sir Humphrey Challoner had -produced a silver tooth-pick, and was using it as an adjunct to deep -meditation. Master Mittachip was contemplating the floor with rapt -attention. - -"Harkee, Master Mittachip," said Sir Humphrey at last. "Lady Patience -is taking those letters to London." - -"That was the impression created in my mind, your Honour." - -"And why does she take those letters to London?" said Sir Humphrey, -bringing his heavy fist crashing down upon the table, and causing -glasses and dishes to rattle, whilst Master Mittachip almost lost his -balance. "Why does she take them to London, I say? Because they are -the proofs of her brother's innocence. It is easy to guess their -contents. Requests, admonitions, upbraidings on the part of the -disappointed rebels, obvious proofs that Philip had held aloof." - -He pushed his chair noisily away from the table, and began pacing the -narrow room with great, impatient strides. - -But while he spoke Master Mittachip began to lose his placid air of -apologetic deference, and a look of alarm suddenly lighted his meek, -colourless eyes. - -"Good lack," he murmured, "then my Lord Stretton is no rebel?" - -"Rebel?--not he!" asserted Sir Humphrey. "His sympathies were thought to -be with the Stuarts, but he went south during the rebellion--'twas I who -advised him--that he might avoid being drawn within its net." - -But at this Master Mittachip's terror became more tangible. - -"But your Honour," he stammered, whilst his thin cheeks assumed a leaden -hue, and his eyes sought appealingly those of his employer, "your Honour -laid sworn information against Lord Stretton ... and ... and ... I drew -up the papers ... and signed them with my name as your Honour -commanded..." - -"Well! I paid you well for it, didn't I?" said Sir Humphrey, roughly. - -"But if the accusation was false, Sir Humphrey ... I shall be disgraced -... struck off the rolls ... perhaps hanged..." - -Sir Humphrey laughed; one of those loud, jovial, laughs which those in -his employ soon learnt to dread. - -"Adsbud!" he said, "an one of us is to hang, old scarecrow, I prefer it -shall be you." - -And he gave Master Mittachip a vigorous slap on the shoulder, which -nearly precipitated the lean-shanked attorney on the floor. - -"Good Sir Humphrey..." he murmured piteously, "b ... b ... b ... but -what was the reason of the information against Lord Stretton, since the -letters can so easily prove it to be false?" - -"Silence, you fool!" said his Honour, impatiently, "I did not know of -the letters then. I wished to place Lord Stretton in a perilous -position, then hoped to succeed in establishing his innocence in certain -ways I had in my mind. I wished to be the one to save him," he added, -muttering a curse of angry disappointment, "and gain _her_ gratitude -thereby. I was journeying to London for the purpose, and now..." - -His language became such that it wholly disconcerted Master Mittachip, -accustomed though he was to the somewhat uncertain tempers of the great -folk he had to deal with. Moreover, the worthy attorney was fully -conscious of his own precarious position in this matter. - -"And now you've gained nothing," he moaned; "whilst I ... oh! oh! I..." - -His condition was pitiable. His Honour viewed him with no small measure -of contempt. Then suddenly Sir Humphrey's face lighted up with -animation. The scowl disappeared, and a shrewd, almost triumphant smile -parted the jovial, somewhat sensuous lips. - -"Easy! easy! you old coward," he said pleasantly, "things are not so bad -as that.... Adsbud! you're not hanged yet, are you? and," he added -significantly, "Lord Stretton is still attainted and in peril of his -life." - -"B ... b ... b ... but..." - -"Can't you see, you fool," said Sir Humphrey with sudden earnestness, -drawing a chair opposite the attorney, and sitting astride upon it, he -viewed the meagre little creature before him steadfastly and seriously; -"can't you see that if I can only get hold of those letters now, I could -_force_ Lady Patience into accepting my suit?" - -"Eh?" - -"With them in my possession I can go to her and say, 'An you marry me, -those proofs of your brother's innocence shall be laid before the King: -an you refuse they shall be destroyed.'" - -"Oh!" was Master Mittachip's involuntary comment: a mere gasp of -amazement, of terror at the enormity of the proposal. - -He ventured to raise his timid eyes to the strong florid face before -him, and in it saw such a firm will, such unbendable determination, that -he thought it prudent for the moment to refrain from adverse comment. - -"Truly," he murmured vaguely, as his Honour seemed to be waiting for him -to speak, "truly those letters mean the lady's fortune to your Honour." - -"And on the day of my marriage with her, two hundred guineas for you, -Master Mittachip," said Challoner, very slowly and significantly, -looking his man of business squarely in the face. - -Master Mittachip literally lost his head. Two hundred guineas! 'twas -more than he earned in four years, and that at the cost of hard work, -many kicks and constant abuse. A receiver of rents has from time -immemorial never been a popular figure. Master Mittachip found life -hard, and in those days two hundred guineas was quite a comfortable -little fortune. The attorney passed his moist tongue over his thin, -parched lips. - -The visions which these imaginary two hundred guineas had conjured up in -his mind almost made his attenuated senses reel. There was that bit of -freehold property at Wirksworth which he had long coveted, aye, or -perhaps that partnership with Master Lutworth at Derby, or... - -"'Twere worth your while, Master Mittachip, to get those letters for me, -eh?" - -His Honour's pleasant words brought the poor man back from the land of -dreams. - -"I? I, Sir Humphrey?" he murmured dejectedly, "how can I, a poor -attorney-at-law...?" - -"Zounds! but that's your affair," said his Honour with a careless shrug -of his broad shoulders, "Methought you'd gladly earn two hundred -guineas, and I offer you a way to do it." - -"But how, Sir Humphrey, how?" - -"That's for you to think on, my man. Two hundred guineas is a tidy sum. -What? I have it," he said, slapping his own broad thigh and laughing -heartily. "You shall play the daring highwayman! put on a mask and stop -her ladyship's coach, shout lustily: 'Stand and deliver!' take the -letters from her and 'tis done in a trice!" - -The idea of that meagre little creature playing the highwayman greatly -tickled Sir Humphrey's fancy, for the moment he even forgot the grave -issues he himself had at stake, and his boisterous laugh went echoing -through the old silent building. - -But as his Honour spoke this pleasant conceit, Master Mittachip's thin, -bloodless face assumed an air of deep thought, immediately followed by -one of eager excitement. - -"The idea of the highwayman is not a bad one, Sir Humphrey," he said -with a quiet chuckle, as soon as his patron's hilarity had somewhat -subsided, "but I am not happy astride a horse, and I know nought of -pistols, but there's no reason why we should not get a footpad to steal -those letters for you. 'Tis their trade after all." - -"What do you mean? I was but jesting." - -"But I was not, Sir Humphrey. I was thinking of Beau Brocade." - -"The highwayman?" - -"Why not? He lives by robbery and hates all the quality, whom he -plunders whene'er he has a chance. Your Honour has had experience, only -last night ... eh?" - -"Well? What of it? Curse you, man, for a dotard! Why don't you -explain?" - -"'Tis simple enough, your Honour. You give him the news that her -ladyship's coach will cross the Heath to-night, tell him of her money -and her jewels, offer him a hundred guineas more for the packet of -letters.... He! he! he! He'll do the rest, never fear!" - -Master Mittachip rubbed his bony hands together, his colourless eyes -were twinkling, his thin lips quivering with excitement, dreams of that -freehold bit of property became tangible once more. - -Sir Humphrey looked at him quietly for a moment or two: the little man's -excitement was contagious and his Honour had a great deal at stake: a -beautiful woman whom he loved and her large fortune to boot. But reason -and common-sense--not chivalry--were still fighting their battle against -his daring spirit of adventure. - -"Tush, man!" he said after awhile, with the calmness of intense -excitement, "you talk arrant nonsense when you say I'm to give a -highwayman news of her ladyship's coach and offer him money for the -letters. Where am I to find him? How speak with him?" - -Mittachip chuckled inwardly. His Honour then was not averse to the -plan. Already he was prepared to discuss the means of carrying it out. - -"'Tis a lawyer's business to ferret out what goes on around him, Sir -Humphrey. You can send any news you please to Beau Brocade within an -hour from now." - -"How?" - -"John Stich, the blacksmith over at the crossroads, is his ally and his -friend. Most folk think 'tis he always gives news to the rogue whene'er -a coach happen to cross the Moor. But that's as it may be. If your -Honour will call at the forge just before sunset, you'll mayhap see a -chestnut horse tethered there and there'll be a stranger talking to John -Stich; a stranger young and well-looking. He's oft to be seen at the -forge. The folk about here never ask who the stranger is, for all have -heard of the chivalrous highwayman who robs the rich and gives to the -poor. He! he! he! Do you call at the forge, Sir Humphrey, you can -arrange this little matter there.... Your news and offer of money will -get to Beau Brocade, never fear." - -Sir Humphrey was silent. All the boisterous jollity had gone out of his -face, leaving only a dark scowl behind, which made the ruddy face look -almost evil in its ugliness. Mittachip viewed him with ill-concealed -satisfaction. The plan had indeed found favour with his Honour; it was -quick, daring, sure: the fortune of a lifetime upon one throw. Sir -Humphrey, even before the attorney had finished speaking, had resolved -to take the risk. He himself was safe in any case, nothing could connect -his name with that of the notorious highwayman who had cut his purse but -the night before. - -"I'd not have her hurt," was the first comment he made after a few -minutes' silent cogitation. - -"Hurt?" rejoined Mittachip. "Why should she be hurt? Beau Brocade -would not hurt a pretty woman. He'll get the letters from her, I'll -stake my oath on that." - -"Aye! and blackmail me after that to the end of my days. My good name -would be at the mercy of so damned a rascal." - -"What matter, Sir Humphrey, once Lady Patience is your wife and her -fortune in your pocket? Everything is fair in love, so I've been told." - -Sir Humphrey ceased to argue. Chivalry and honour had long been on the -losing side. - -"Moreover, Sir Humphrey," added the crafty attorney, slily, "once you -have the letters, you can denounce the rogue yourself, and get him -hanged safely out of your way." - -"He'd denounce me." - -"And who'd believe the rascal's word against your Honour's flat denial? -Not Squire West, for sure, before whom he'd be tried, and your Honour -can have him kept in prison until after your marriage with Lady -Patience." - -It seemed as if even reason would range herself on the side of this -daring plan. There seemed practically no risk as far as Sir Humphrey -himself was concerned, and every chance of success, an that rascal Beau -Brocade would but consent. - -"He would," asserted Mittachip, "an your Honour told him that the coach, -the money, and the letters belonged to Lady Rounce, and the young lady -travelling in the coach but a niece of her ladyship. Lady Rounce is a -hard woman who takes no excuse from a debtor. He! he! he! she has the -worst reputation in the two counties, save your Honour!" - -The lawyer chuckled at this little joke, but Sir Humphrey was too -absorbed to note the impertinence. He was pacing up and down the narrow -room in a last agony of indecision. - -Mittachip evidently was satisfied with his day's work. The two hundred -guineas he looked upon as a certainty already. After a while, noting -the look of stern determination upon his Honour's face, he turned the -conversation to matters of business. He had been collecting some rents -for Sir Humphrey and also for Squire West and Lady Rounce, and would -have to return to Wirksworth to bank the money. - -Since Sir Humphrey Challoner was occupying the only available bedroom at -the Moorhen, there would be no room for Master Mittachip and Master -Duffy, his clerk. He hoped to reach Brassington by the bridle path -before the footpads were astir, thence at dawn on to Wirksworth. - -He had shot his poisonous arrow and did not stop to ascertain how far it -had gone home. He bade farewell to his employer, with all the deference -which many years of intercourse with the quality had taught him, and -never mentioned Beau Brocade, Lady Patience or John Stich's forge again. -But when he had bowed and scraped himself out of his Honour's presence, -and was sitting once more beside Master Duffy in the bar-parlour, there -was a world of satisfaction in his pale, watery eyes. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - A STRANGER AT THE FORGE - - -In the meanwhile Lady Patience, with Betty by her side, had been walking -towards the forge as rapidly as the state of the road permitted. - -A sudden turn of the path brought her within sight of the cross-ways and -of the old gallows, on which a fragment of rain-spattered rag still -fluttered ghostlike in the wind. - -But here, within a few yards of her goal, she stopped suddenly, with -eyes dilated, and hands pressed convulsively to her heart, in an agony -of terror. Walking quickly on the road from Wirksworth towards Stich's -cottage were some half-dozen red-coated figures, the foremost man -amongst them wearing three stripes upon his sleeve. - -Soldiers with a sergeant at the forge! What could it mean but awful -peril for the fugitive? - -Her halt had been but momentary, the next instant she was flying down -the pathway closely followed by Betty, and had reached the shed just as -the soldiers were skirting the cottage towards it. - -She glanced within, and gave a quick sigh of relief: there was no sign -of her brother, and John was busy at his anvil. - -Already the smith had caught sight of her. - -"Hush!" he whispered reassuringly, "have no fear, my lady. I've had -soldiers here before." - -"But they'll recognise me, perhaps ... or guess..." - -"No, no! my lady! Do you pretend to be a waiting wench. They are men -from Derby mostly, and not like to know your face." - -There was not a moment to be lost. Patience realised this, together -with the certainty that her own coolness and presence of mind might -prove the one chance of safety for her brother. - -"Halt!" came in loud accents from the sergeant outside. - -"The lock, Master Stich," said Patience, loudly and carelessly, as the -sergeant stepped into the doorway, "is it ready? Her ladyship's coach -is following me from Aldwark, and will be at the cross-roads anon." - -"Quite ready, mistress," replied the smith, casting a rapid glance at -the soldier, who stood in the entrance with hand to hat in military -salute. - -The latter took a rapid survey of the interior of the forge, then said -politely,-- - -"Your pardon, ladies!" - -"Well, and what is it now, Sergeant?" queried John, with affected -impatience. - -"I have heard that there's a stranger at your forge, smith," replied the -soldier. "My corporal came down from Aldwark early this afternoon and -told me about him. I'd like just to have a talk with him." - -"One moment, Sergeant," said John, interposing his burly figure between -Patience and the prying eyes of the young soldier. - -"I think you'll find the lock quite secure now, mistress," he said, -trying, good, honest fellow that he was, to put as much meaning into the -careless sentence as he dared. She mutely thanked him with her eyes, -took the padlock from his hands, and gave him over some money for his -pains, the while her heart was nearly bursting with the agony of -suspense. - -"No stranger, Sergeant," rejoined the smith, once more turning with -well-assumed indifference to the soldier, "only my nephew out o' -Nottingham. Your corporal was a Derby man, and knew the lad's mother, my -sister Hannah!" - -"Quite so, quite so, smith," quoth the Sergeant, pleasantly; "then you -won't mind my searching your forge and cottage just for form's sake." - -Even then Patience did not betray herself either by a look or a quiver -of the voice. - -"Lud! how tiresome be those soldiers," she said with an affected pout. -"I'd hoped to wait here in peace, friend smith, until the arrival of her -ladyship's coach." - -"Nay, mistress, you need not be disturbed," said the smith, jovially, -"the Sergeant is but jesting, eh, friend?" he added, turning to the -soldier. "There! I give you my word, Master Sergeant, that there is -nought here for you to find." - -"I've my orders, smith," said the Sergeant, more curtly. - -"Nay, friend," interposed Lady Patience, "surely you overstep your -orders. John Stich is honest and loyal, you do him indignity by such -unjust suspicions." - -"Your pardon, ma'am, but I know my duty. There's no suspicion against -the smith, but there are many rebels in hiding about here, and I've -strict orders to be on the lookout for one in particular, Philip -Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, who is known to be in these parts." - -John Stich interrupted him with a loud guffaw. - -"Lud, man!" he said, "there's no room for a noble lord in a wayside -smithy; you waste your time." - -"My orders say I've the right to search," quoth the Sergeant, firmly, -"and search I'm going to." - -Then he turned to his squad, who were standing at attention outside. - -"Follow me, men," he said, as he stepped forward into the forge. - -Fortunately the remote corners of the shed were dark, and Patience still -had her hood and cloak wrapped closely round her, or her deathlike -pallor, the wild, terrified look in her eyes, would at this moment have -betrayed her in spite of herself. - -But honest John was standing in the way of the Sergeant. - -"Look'ee here, Sergeant," he said quietly, "I'm a man of few words, but -I'm a free-born Englishman, and my home is my castle. It's an insult to -a free and loyal citizen for soldiers to search his home, as if he were -a felon. I say you _shall not_ enter, so you take yourself off, before -you come by a broken head." - -"Smith, you're a fool," commented the Sergeant with a shrug of the -shoulders, "and do yourself no good." - -"That's as it may be, friend," quoth John. "There are fools in every -walk in life. You be a stranger in these parts and don't know me, but -folk'll tell you that what John Stich once says, that he'll stick to. -So forewarned is forearmed, friend Sergeant. Eh?" - -But to this the Sergeant had but one reply, and that was directed to his -own squad. - -"Now then, my men," he said, "follow me! and you, John Stich," he added -loudly and peremptorily, "stand aside in the name of the King!" - -The men were ranged round the Sergeant with muskets grasped, ready to -rush in the next moment at word of command. John Stich stood between -them and a small wooden door, little more than a partition, behind which -Philip, Earl of Stretton, was preparing to sell his life dearly. - -That death would immediately follow capture was absolutely clear both to -him and to his devoted sister, who with almost superhuman effort of will -was making heroic efforts to keep all outward show of alarm in check. -Even amongst these half-dozen soldiers any one of them might know Lord -Stretton by sight, and was not likely to forget that twenty guineas--a -large sum in those days--was the price the Hanoverian Government was -prepared to pay for the head of a rebel. - -Philip was a man condemned to death by Act of Parliament. If he were -captured now, neither prayer, nor bribes, nor even proofs of innocence -would avail him before an officious magistrate intent on doing his duty. -A brief halt at Brassington court-house, an execution in the early -dawn!... these were the awesome visions which passed before Patience's -eyes, as with a last thought of anguish and despair she turned to God -for help! - -No doubt John Stich was equally aware of the imminence of the peril, -and, determined to fight for the life of his lord, he brandished his -mighty hammer over his head, and there was a look in the powerful man's -eyes that made even the Sergeant pause awhile ere giving the final word -of command. - -Thus there was an instant's deadly silence whilst so many hearts were -wildly beating in tumultuous emotion. Just one instant--a few seconds, -mayhap, whilst even Nature seemed to stand still, and Time to pause -before the next fateful minute. - -And then a voice--a fresh, young, happy voice--was suddenly heard to -sing, "My beautiful white rose." - -It was not very distant: but twenty yards at most, and even now seemed -to be making for the forge, drawing nearer and nearer. - -Instinctively--what else could they do?--soldiers and Sergeant turned to -look out upon the Heath. There was such magic in that merry, boyish -voice, clear as that of the skylark, singing the quaint old ditty. - -They looked and saw a stranger dressed in elegant, almost foppish -fashion, his brown hair free from powder, tied with a large bow at the -nape of the neck, dainty lace at his throat and wrists, scarce a speck -of mud upon his fine, well-cut coat. He was leading a beautiful -chestnut horse by the bridle and had been singing as he walked. - -Patience, too, catching at this happy interruption like a drowning man -does at a straw, turned to look at the approaching stranger. - -Her eyes were the first to meet his as he reached the entrance of the -forge, and with an elaborate, courtly gesture he raised his -three-cornered hat and made her a respectful bow. - -Then he burst out laughing. - -"Ho! ho! ho! but here's a pretty to-do. Why, John Stich, my friend, you -look a bit out of temper." - -He stood there framed in the doorway, with the golden light of the -afternoon sun throwing into bold silhouette his easy, graceful stature, -and the pleasant picture of him, with one arm round the beautiful -horse's neck and his slender fingers gently fondling its soft, quivering -nose. - -John Stich, at first sound of the stranger's voice, had relaxed from his -defiant attitude, and a ray of hope had chased away the threatening look -in his eyes. - -"So would you be, Captain," he said gruffly, "with these red coats -inside your house, and all their talk of rebels." - -"Captain?" murmured the Sergeant. - -"Aye, Captain Bathurst, my man, of His Majesty's White Dragoons," said -the stranger, carelessly, as without more ado he led his horse within -the forge and tethered it close to the entrance. Then he came forward -and slapped the Sergeant vigorously on the back. - -"And I'll go bail, Sergeant, that John Stich is no rebel. He's far too -big a fool!" he added in an audible whisper, and with a merry twinkle in -his grey eyes. - -Patience still stood rigid, expectant, terrified in the darker corner of -the shed. She had not yet realised whether she dared to hope, whether -this young stranger, with his pleasant, boyish voice and debonnair -manner, would have the power to stay the hand of Fate, which was even -now raised against her brother. - -Betty, behind her mistress, was too terrified to speak. - -But already the Sergeant had recovered from his momentary surprise. At -mention of the stranger's military rank he had raised his hand to his -tricorne hat. Now he was ready to perform his duty, and gladly noted -the smith's less aggressive attitude. - -"At your service, Captain," he said, "and now I have my orders. I've a -right o' search and..." - -But like veritable quicksilver, Captain Bathurst was upon him in a -moment. - -"A right o' search!" he said excitedly. "A right o' search, did you -say, Sergeant? Odd's my life, but I'm in luck! Sergeant, you're the -very man for me." - -And he pulled the Sergeant by the sleeve. - -"I pray you, sir..." protested the latter. - -But the young man was not to be denied. - -"Sergeant," he whispered significantly, "would you like to earn a -hundred guineas?" - -"One hundred guineas," rejoined the soldier readily enough; "that I -would, sir, if you'll tell me how." - -He kept an eye on the little wooden door behind John Stich, but his ear -leaned towards the stranger; the bait was a tempting one, a hundred -guineas was something of a fortune to a soldier of King George II. - -"Listen then," said Bathurst, mysteriously. "You've heard of Beau -Brocade, the highwayman, haven't you?" - -"Aye, aye," nodded the Sergeant, "who hasn't?" - -"Well then you know that there is a price of a hundred guineas for his -capture, eh? ... Think of it, Sergeant! ... A hundred guineas! ... a -little fortune, eh?" - -The Sergeant's eyes twinkled at the thought. The soldiers too listened -with eager interest, for the stranger was no longer talking in a -whisper. A hundred guineas! three little words of wondrous magic, which -had the power to rouse most men to excitement in those days of penury. - -Lady Patience's whole soul seemed to have taken refuge in her eyes. Her -body leaning forward, her lips parted with a quick-drawn breath, she -gazed upon the stranger, wondering what he would do. That he was -purposely diverting the Sergeant's attention from his purpose she did -not dare to think, that he was succeeding beyond her wildest hopes was -not in doubt for a moment. - -And yet there did not seem much gained by averting the fearful -catastrophe for the span of a few brief minutes. - -"Aye! a fortune indeed!" sighed the Sergeant, with obvious longing. - -"And I have sworn to lay that dare-devil highwayman by the heels," -continued the young man. "I know where he lies hidden at this very -moment, but, by Satan and all his crew, I cannot lay hands upon the -rascal." - -"How so?" - -"The house is private! worse luck! _I_ have no right of search!" - -The Sergeant gave a knowing wink. - -"Hm!" he said. "I understand." - -Then he added significantly,-- - -"But the reward?" - -"Odd's life! you shall have the whole of that, Sergeant, and, if your -men will help me, there shall be another hundred to divide between them. -I have sworn to lay the rogue by the heels for my honour's sake. Would -you believe me, Sergeant, 'tis but a week ago that rascally highwayman -robbed me in broad daylight! ... fifty guineas he took from me. Now -I've a bet with Captain Borrowdale, five hundred guineas aside, that -I'll bring about the rogue's capture." - -There was no doubt now that the Sergeant's interest was fully aroused; -the soldiers, at mention of the reward which was to be theirs, hung upon -their Sergeant's lips, hoping for the order to march on this very -lucrative errand. - -"Hm!" muttered the latter, with a knowing wink, "perhaps that highwayman -is a personal enemy of yours as well, sir!" - -"Aye!" sighed Captain Bathurst, pathetically, "the worst I ever had." - -"And you'd be mightily glad to see him hanged, an I mistake not. What?" - -"Zounds! but I wouldn't say that exactly, Sergeant, but ... I have no -love for him ... 'tis many an ill turn he has done me of late." - -"I understand! Then the reward?" - -"You shall have every penny of it, friend, and a hundred guineas for -your men. What say you, gallant soldiers?" And he turned gaily to the -little squad, who had stood at very close attention all this while. - -But there was no need to make this direct appeal. The men were only too -ready to be up and doing, to earn the reward and leave John Stich and -the very problematical rebel to look after themselves. - -"Now, quick's the word," said the young man, briskly, "there's not a -moment to be lost." - -"At your service, Captain," replied the Sergeant, turning once more -towards the inner door before which John Stich still held guard, "as -soon as I've searched this forge..." - -"Nay, man, an you waste a minute, you and your men will miss Beau -Brocade and the hundred guineas reward. Quick, man!" he added -hurriedly, seeing that the soldier had paused irresolute, "quick! with -your fellows straight up the road that leads northward. I'm on -horseback--I'll overtake you as soon as may be." - -"But..." - -"You'll see a lonely cottage about half a mile from here, then a bridle -path on the left; follow that, you'll come to a house that was once an -inn. The rascal is there. I saw him not half an hour ago." - -"But the rebel, Captain..." feebly protested the Sergeant, "my duty..." - -"Nay, Sergeant, as you will," said Bathurst, coolly, with a great show -of complete indifference; "but while you parley here, Beau Brocade will -slip through your fingers. He is at the house now: he may be gone by -sunset. Odd's life! search for your rebels! go on! waste time! and the -hundred guineas are lost to you and your men for ever." - -It was obvious that both sergeant and men were determined not to lose -this opportunity of a bold bid for fortune. - -"Done with you, sir," he said resolutely. "After all," he added, as a -concession to his own sense of duty, "I can always come back and search -the forge afterwards." - -All the soldiers seemed as one man to be uttering a sigh of relief and -eager anticipation, and even before the Sergeant had spoken the word, -they turned to go. - -"You are a wise man, Sergeant," said Bathurst, jovially. "Off with you! -straight along that road you see before you. The cottage is just beyond -that clump of distant firs, there you'll see the bridle path. But I'll -overtake you before then, never fear. Time to give my horse a handful -of oats..." - -But even while he spoke the Sergeant had called "Attention!" - -"I'll not fail you, sir," he shouted excitedly. "A hundred guineas! -odd's my life! 'tis a fortune! Left turn! Quick march!" - -The young man stood in the doorway and watched the little squad as, -preceded by their Sergeant, they plodded their way northwards in quest -of fortune. John Stich too followed them with his eyes, until the bend -in the road hid the red coats from view. Then both turned and came -within. - -But Lady Patience through it all never looked at the soldiers; her eyes, -large, glowing, magnetic, were fixed upon the stranger in the forge, as -if in a trance of joy and gratitude. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE STRANGER'S NAME - - -Mistress Betty was the first to recover from terror and surprise. She -too had fixed a pair of large and wondering eyes upon the stranger. - -"'Tis the gentleman who brought the letter from his lordship last -night," she whispered to her mistress. - -Patience closed her eyes for a moment: her spirit, which had gone -a-roaming into the land of dreams, where dwell heroes and proud knights -of old, came back to earth once more. - -"Then he must have guessed my brother was here," she murmured, "and did -it to save him." - -But the tension being relaxed, already the bright and sunny nature, -which appeared to be the chief characteristic of the stranger, quickly -re-asserted itself, and soon he was laughing merrily. - -"Oh! ho! gone, by my faith!" he said to John. "Odd's life! but he -swallowed that, clean as a mullet after bait, eh, friend Stich?" - -It seemed as if he purposely avoided looking at Patience: perhaps, with -the innate delicacy of a kindly nature, he wished to give her time to -recover her composure. But now she came forward, turning to him with a -gentle smile that had an infinity of pathos in it. - -"Sir," she said, "I would wish to thank you..." - -He put up his hand, with a gesture of self-deprecation. - -"To thank me, madam?" he said, with profound deference. "Nay! you do -but jest. I have done nothing to deserve so great a favour." - -He bowed to her with perfect courtly grace, but she would not be -gainsaid. She wished to think that he had acted thus for her. - -"Sir, you wrong your own most noble deed," she said. "Will you not -allow me to keep the sweet illusion, that what you did just now, you did -from the kindness of your heart, and because you saw that we were all -anxious ... and that ... I was unhappy..." - -She looked divinely fair as she stood there beside him, with the rays of -the slanting September sun touching the halo of her hair with a wand of -gold. Her voice was musical and low, and there was a catch in her throat -as she held out one tiny, trembling hand to him. - -He took it in his own strong grasp, and kept it a prisoner therein for -awhile, then he bent his slim young figure and touched her finger-tips -with his lips. - -"Faith, madam!" he said, "by that sweet illusion, an it dwell awhile in -your memory, I am more than repaid." - -In the meanwhile John had pushed open the small door which led to the -inner shed. - -"Quite safe, my lord!" he shouted gaily, "only friends present." - -Brother and sister, regardless of all save their own joy in this averted -peril, were soon locked in each other's arms. Captain Bathurst had -heard her happy cry: "Philip!" had seen the look of gladness brighten -her tear-dimmed eyes, and a curious feeling of wrath, which he could not -explain, caused him to turn away with a frown and a sigh. - -Patience was clinging to her brother, half hysterical, nervous, excited. - -"You are safe, dear," she murmured, touching with trembling motherly -hands the dear head so lately in peril, "quite safe ... let me feel your -precious hands ... oh! it was so horrible! ... another moment and you -were discovered! ... Sir!" she added once more, turning to the stranger -with the sweet impulse of her gratitude, "my thanks just now must have -seemed so poor ... I was nervous and excited ... but see! here is one -who owes you his life, and who, I know, would wish to join his thanks to -mine." - -But there was a change in his manner now. He bowed slightly before her -and said very coldly,-- - -"Nay, madam! let me assure you once again that I have done naught to -deserve your thanks. John Stich is my friend, and he seemed in trouble -... if I have had the honour to serve you at the same time, 'tis I who -should render thanks." - -She sighed, somewhat disappointed at his coldness. But Philip, with -boyish impulse, held out both hands to him. - -"Nay, sir," he said, "I know not who you are, but I heard everything -from behind that door, and I know that I owe you my life..." - -"I beg you, sir..." - -"Another moment and I had rushed out and sold my life dearly. Your -noble effort, sir, did more than save that life," he added, taking -Patience's hand in his, "it spared a deep sorrow to one who is -infinitely dear to me ... my only sister." - -"Your ... your sister?" - -"Aye! my sister, Lady Patience Gascoyne, I am the Earl of Stretton, -unjustly attainted by Act of Parliament. The life you have just saved, -sir, is henceforth at your command." - -"Indeed, Philip," added Patience, gently, "we already are deeply in this -gentleman's debt. Betty, who saw him, tells me that it was he who -brought me your letter yester night." - -"You, sir!" exclaimed Stretton in profound astonishment, "then you -are..." - -He paused instinctively, for he had remembered his conversation with -John Stich earlier in the day; he remembered the anger, the wonder, -which he had felt when the smith told him that he had entrusted the -precious letter for Lady Patience to Beau Brocade, the highwayman ... - -"Then you are...?" repeated Philip, mechanically. - -Patience was clinging to her brother, with her back towards the -stranger, so she did not see the swift look of appeal the slender finger -put up in a mute, earnest prayer for silence. But now she turned and -looked inquiringly at him, her eyes asking for a name by which she could -remember him. - -"Captain Jack Bathurst," he said, bowing low, "at your command." - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE ROSE - - -But of course there was no time to be lost. Captain Jack Bathurst was -the first to give the alarm. - -"Those gallant lobsters won't be long in finding out that they've been -hoodwinked," he said, "an I mistake not, they'll return here anon with a -temper slightly the worse for wear. They must not find your lordship -here at anyrate," he added earnestly. - -"But what's to be done?" asked Patience, all her anxiety returning in a -trice, and instinctively turning for guidance to the man who already had -done so much for her. - -"For the next hour or two at anyrate his lordship would undoubtedly be -safer on the open Moor," said Bathurst, decisively. "'Tis nigh on -sunset, and the shepherds are busy gathering in their flocks. There'll -be no one about, and 'twould be safer." - -"On the open Moor?" - -"Aye! 'tis not a bad place," he said, with a touch of sadness in his -fresh young voice. "I myself..." - -He checked himself and continued more quietly,-- - -"Your lordship could return here after sundown. You'd be safe enough for -the night. After that, an you'll grant me leave, my friend Stich and I -will venture to devise some better plan for your safety. For the moment, -I pray you, be guided by this good advice, and seek the protection of -the open Moor." - -He had spoken so earnestly, with such obvious heartfelt concern, and at -the same time with such quiet firmness, that instinctively Philip felt -inclined to obey; the weaker nature turned for support to the stronger -one, to whose dominating influence it felt compelled to yield. He -turned to Patience, and her eyes seemed to tell him that she was ready -to trust this stranger. - -"Aye! I'll go, sir!" he sighed wearily. - -He kissed his sister with all the fondness of his aching heart. All his -hopes for the future were centred in her and in the long journey she was -about to undertake for his sake. - -Bathurst discreetly left brother and sister alone. He knew nothing of -their affairs, of their plans, their hopes. Stich was too loyal to -speak of his lord, even to a man whom he trusted and respected as he did -the Captain. The latter knew that a hunted man was in hiding in the -smith's forge, he had taken a message from the man to the lady at -Stretton Hall, now he knew for certain that the fugitive was the Earl of -Stretton. But that was all. - -Being outside the pale of the law himself, his sympathies at once ranged -themselves on the side of the fugitive. Whether the latter were guilty -or innocent mattered little to Jack Bathurst; what did matter to him was -that the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on was unhappy and in -tears. - -Philip, seeing that he could talk to his sister unobserved, whispered -eagerly,-- - -"The letters, dear, have a care; how will you carry them?" - -"In the drawer underneath the seat of the coach," she whispered in -reply. "I'll not leave the coach day or night until I've reached -London. From Wirksworth onwards I'll be travelling with relays: I need -neither spare horses nor waste a moment's time. I can be in town in -less than six days." - -"When will your coach be ready?" - -"In a few minutes now, and I'll start at once: but go, go now, dear," -she urged tenderly, "since Captain Bathurst thinks it better that you -should." - -She kissed him again and again, her heart full of hope and excitement at -thought of what she could do for him, yet aching because of this -parting. It was terrible to leave him in this awful peril, to be far -away if danger once again became imminent! - -When at last he had torn himself away from her, he made quickly for the -door, where Bathurst had been waiting for him. - -"Ah, sir!" sighed Philip, bitterly, "'tis a sorry plight for a soldier -and a gentleman to hide for his life like a coward and a thief." - -But Bathurst before leaving was looking back at the beautiful picture of -Patience's sweet face bathed in tears. - -"Like a thief?" he murmured. "Nay, sir, thieves have no angels to guard -and love them: methinks you have no cause to complain of your fate." - -There was perhaps just a thought of bitterness in his voice as he said -this, and Patience turned to him, and gazed at him in tender womanly -pity through her tears. At once the electrical, sunny nature within him -again gained the upper hand. Laughter and gaiety seemed with him to be -always close to the surface, ready to ripple out at any moment, and -calling forth hope and confidence in those around. - -"An you'll accept my escort, sir," he said cheerfully to Philip, "I'll -show you a sheltered spot known only to myself ... and to Jack o' -Lantern," he added, giving a passing tender tap to his beautiful horse. -"He and I are very fond of the Moor, eh, Jack, old friend? ... We are -the two Jacks, you see, sir, and seldom are seen apart. Together we -discovered the spot which I will show you, sir, and where you can lie -_perdu_ until nightfall. 'Tis safe and lonely and but a step from this -forge." - -Philip accepted the offer gratefully. Like his sister, he too felt that -he could trust Jack Bathurst. As he walked by his side along the -unbeaten track on the Heath, he viewed with some curiosity, not unmixed -with boyish admiration, the tall, well-knit figure of his gallant -rescuer. He tried to think of him as the notorious highwayman, Beau -Brocade, on whose head the Government had put the price of a hundred -guineas. - -A hero of romance he was in the hearts of the whole country-side, yet a -felon in the eyes of the law. Philip could just see his noble profile, -with the well-cut features, the boyish, sensitive mouth, firm chin and -straight, massive brow, over which a mass of heavy brown curls clustered -in unruly profusion. - -A brave man, surely--Philip had experienced that; a wise one too in -spite of his youth. Stretton guessed his companion to be still under -thirty years of age, and yet there was at times, in spite of the -inherently sunny disposition below, a look of melancholy, of -disappointment, in the deep, grey eyes, which spoke of a wasted life, of -opportunities lost perhaps, or of persistent adverse fate. - -Through it all there was that quaint air of foppishness, the manners and -appearance of a dandy about the Court. The caped coat was dark and -serviceable, but it was of the finest cloth and of the latest, most -fashionable cut, and beneath it peeped a dainty silk waistcoat, -delicately embroidered. - -The lace at throat and wrists was of the finest Mechlin, and the boots, -though stout and heavy, betrayed the smallness and the arch of the foot. -Though Jack Bathurst had obviously been riding, he carried neither whip -nor cane. - -All that Philip observed in this rapid walk to the place of shelter -which Bathurst had thought out for him, Patience, with a woman's quick -perception, had noted from the first. To her, of course, the Captain -was but a gallant stranger, good to look at and replete with all the -chivalrous attributes this troublous century called forth in the hearts -of her sons. She knew naught of Beau Brocade the highwayman, and -probably would have recoiled in horror at thought of connecting the name -of a thief with that of her newly-found hero of romance. - -She stood in the doorway for some time, watching with glowing eyes the -figures of the two men, until they disappeared behind a high clump of -gorse: then with a curious little sigh she turned and went within. - -John Stich and Mistress Betty were carrying on an animated conversation -in a remote corner of the forge. Patience did not wish to disturb them: -she was deeply grateful to John, and felt kindly disposed towards the -suggestion of romance conveyed by the smith's obvious appreciation of -pretty Mistress Betty. - -She crossed the shed, and opening the door at the further end of it, she -found that it gave upon a small yard which separated the forge from the -cottage, and in which Stich and his mother, who kept house for him, had -with tender care succeeded in cultivating a few flowers: only one or two -tall hollyhocks, some gay-looking sunflowers, and a few sweet-scented -herbs. And on the south aspect a lovely trail of creeping white rose, -the kind known as "Five Sisters," threw its delicate fragrance over this -little oasis in the wilderness of the Moor. - -And, almost mechanically, whilst her fancy once more went a-roaming in -the land of dreams, Patience began to hum the quaint old ditty: "My -beautiful white rose." - -Suddenly--at a quick thought mayhap--her eyes grew dim, her cheeks began -to burn: she drew towards her a cluster of snowy blossoms, on which the -earlier rains had left a mantle of glittering diamonds, and buried her -glowing face in its pure, cool depths. Then she detached one lovely -white rose from the parent bough, and, sighing, pinned it to her belt. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - A PROPOSAL AND A THREAT - - -Sir Humphrey Challoner had not been long in making up his mind to take -Master Mittachip's pernicious advice. He twisted the old adage that -"everything is fair in love" to a justification of his own evil purpose. -He was not by any means a bad man. Save for his somewhat inordinate -love of money, he had none of the outrageous vices which were looked -upon with leniency in the quality in those days. - -He drank hard, and exacted his pound of flesh equally from all his -tenants, but neither of these characteristics was unusual in an English -squire of the early eighteenth century: a great many of them were -impecunious, and all were fond of good cheer. Originally he had meant -no harm to the young Earl of Stretton. His plan, as he clumsily -conceived it, was to get Philip into trouble first, then to extricate -him from it, for the sake of earning the gratitude of the richest -heiress in the Midlands and the most beautiful woman in England to boot. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner was not a diplomatist: he was a rough country -gentleman of that time, with but scant notions of abstract right and -wrong where his own desires were at stake. - -His original plan had failed through that very Act of Parliament which -placed Philip's life in immediate and imminent peril. Sir Humphrey did -not desire the lad's death: of course not. He had nothing to gain -thereby, and only wished for the sister's hand in marriage. He started -for London post-haste, hoping still to use what influence he had, and -also what knowledge he possessed of Philip's attitude at the time of the -rebellion, in order to bring about the boy's justification and release. - -That Patience had evidently found a means of proving her brother's -innocence without his help was a bitter disappointment to Sir Humphrey. -He knew that she would never marry him of her own free will, but only on -compulsion or from gratitude. - -The latter was now out of the question. He could do nothing to earn it. -Compulsion was the only course, and Mittachip, with crafty persuasion, -had shown him the possible way; therefore he went to the forge of John -Stich to carry through the plan to that end. - -It was close on sunset. On the Moor, gorse, bramble and heather were -bathed in ruddy gold, the brilliant aftermath of this glowing September -afternoon. - -Sir Humphrey had walked over from the Moorhen; as soon as he entered the -forge, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful chestnut horse -tethered against the door-post, the same which he himself had declared -that very day to be worth a small fortune. Fate was obviously playing -into his hands. Mittachip had neither deceived him nor lured him with -false hopes. - -Otherwise the shed was empty: there was no sign of John Stich, or of the -stranger who rode the chestnut horse. Sir Humphrey went within and, as -patiently as he could, set himself to wait. - -When therefore Jack Bathurst returned to the forge some few minutes -later, he found that her ladyship, Betty and Stich had gone, whilst, -sitting on the edge of the rough deal table, and impatiently tapping his -boot with a riding-whip, was no less a personage than the Squire of -Hartington. - -Jack had caught a glimpse of his Honour the night before on the Heath, -under circumstances which even now brought a smile to his lips, and -which incidentally had made the poor of Brassington richer by fifty -guineas. - -For a moment he hesitated whether he would go in or no. He had been -masked during that incident, of course, and knew not even the ABC of -fear. His dare-devil spirit of fun and adventure quickly gained the -upper hand, and the next moment he had greeted his Honour with all the -courtly grace he had at command. - -Sir Humphrey looked at him keenly for a moment or two. Young and -well-looking! Oft to be seen at the forge at sundown! ... Odd's life -but... - -"Your servant, sir!" he said, returning the salutation. - -Sir Humphrey was in no hurry. He firmly believed that Fate had decided -to be kind to him in this matter, but he feared to brusque the -situation, and thereby to imperil the successful issue of his scheme. - -Therefore he passed the time of day with this well-looking stranger, he -talked of the weather and the rains on the Moors, the bad state of the -roads and the insufficiency of police in the county, of the late -rebellion and the newest fashion in coats. - -Jack Bathurst seemed to fall into his mood. He was shrewd enough to -perceive that Sir Humphrey Challoner was in his own estimation playing a -diplomatic game of cat and mouse, and it much intrigued Bathurst to know -what his ultimate purpose might be. He had not long to wait; after some -five minutes of casual conversation, Sir Humphrey went straight for his -goal. - -"Odd's life!" he said suddenly, interrupting his own flow of small talk, -"it wonders me how long that rascally smith'll stay away from his work. -Adsbud! but he's a lazy vagabond. What say you, sir?" - -"Nay! you, sir, wrong an honest man," replied Bathurst. "John Stich is -a steady worker. Shall I call him for you? I know my way about his -cottage." - -"Nay, I thank you, sir! my purpose can wait. Truth to tell," added his -Honour, carelessly, "'twas not the blacksmith's work I needed, but his -help in a trifling matter of business." - -"Indeed?" - -"You'll be surprised perhaps at my question, sir, but have you ever -heard mention of that fellow, Beau Brocade?" - -"Oh! ... vaguely..." - -"A highwayman, sir, and a consummate rogue, yet your honest John Stich -is said to be his friend." - -"Indeed?" - -"Now, an you'll believe me, sir, I have a mind to speak with the -rascal." - -"Indeed? then you are bolder than most, sir," said Jack, cheerfully. He -was really beginning to wonder what the Squire of Hartington was driving -at. - -"It seems strange, doesn't it? but to be frank with you, I'm in two -minds about that rogue." - -"How so?" - -"Well! I have a score to settle with him, and a business to propose; -and I cannot decide which course to adopt." - -"You, sir, being so clever, might perhaps manage both," said Bathurst -with a touch of sarcasm. - -"Hm! I wonder now," continued Sir Humphrey, not wishing to notice the -slight impertinence. "I wonder now what an independent gentleman like -yourself would advise me to do. I have not the honour of knowing who -you are," he added with grave condescension, "but I can see that you -_are_, like myself, a gentleman." - -Bathurst bowed in polite acknowledgment. - -"I should be proud to serve you with advice, sir, since you desire it." - -"Well! as I have said, I have a score to settle with the rogue. He -stole fifty guineas from me last night." - -"Ah me!" sighed Jack, with a melancholy shake of the head, "then I fear -me he'll never haunt the Heath again." - -"What mean you, sir?" - -"Nay! I can picture the rascal now, after you, sir, had punished him -for his impudence! A mangled, bleeding wreck! But there! I have no -pity for him! Daring to measure his valour against your noted prowess!" - -"Quite so! quite so!" quoth his Honour, whilst smothering a curse at -this more obvious piece of insolence. - -"But I entreat your pardon. I was interrupting the story." - -"I saw the rogue, sir," said Sir Humphrey, glancing significantly at the -young man, "saw him clearly by the light of my carriage lanthorns. He -was masked, of course, but I'd know him anywhere, and could denounce him -to-morrow." - -He had risen to his feet, and with legs apart, standing face to face -with Bathurst, he spoke every word as if he meant them to act as a -threat. - -"There are plenty of soldiers about these parts now, even if the country -folk won't touch their vaunted hero of romance. I could get him hanged, -sir, within a week. A cordon of soldiers round this Heath, my word to -swear his identity, and.... But there!" he added with a jovial laugh, -"'tis no concern of yours is it, sir? You were kind enough to promise -me your advice. This is one of my alternatives, the score I'd wish to -settle; there's still the business I could offer the rogue." - -Sir Humphrey had looked the young man squarely in the face whilst he -uttered his threat, but had seen nothing there, save the merriest, the -most light-hearted of smiles. - -"I can scarce advise you, sir," said Bathurst, still smiling, "unless I -know the business as well." - -"Well, sir, you know of old Lady Rounce, do you not? the meanest, -ugliest old witch in the county, eh? Well! she is on her way to London, -and carries with her a mass of money, wrung from her miserable tenants." - -"Faith, sir! you paint a most entrancing picture of the lady." - -"Now, an that rascal Beau Brocade were willing to serve me, he could at -one stroke save his own neck from the gallows, enrich himself, right the -innocent and confound a wicked old woman." - -"And how could this galaxy of noble deeds be accomplished at one stroke, -sir?" - -"Her ladyship's coach will pass over the Heath to-night. It should be -at the cross-roads soon. There will be all the old harridan's money and -jewels to be got out of it." - -"Of course." - -"And also a packet of love-letters, which doubtless will be hidden away -in the receptacle beneath the seat." - -"Letters?" queried Bathurst. "Hm! I doubt me if love-letters would -tempt a gentleman of the road." - -"Nay, sir," replied his Honour, now dropping his voice to a confidential -whisper, "these are letters which, if published, would compromise an -artless young lady, whom old Lady Rounce pursues with her hatred and -spite. Now I would give a hundred guineas to any person who will bring -me those letters at the Moorhen to-morrow. Surely to a gentleman of the -road the game would be worth the candle. Lady Rounce carries money with -her besides, and her diamonds. What think you of it, sir?" - -"'Tis somewhat difficult to advise," said Bathurst, meditatively. - -"Ah well!" said Sir Humphrey with affected indifference, "'tis really -not much to me. On the whole perhaps I would prefer to deliver the -rascal into the hands of my friend Squire West at Brassington. Anyway, I -have the night to think the matter over; 'tis too late now to wait for -that lout, John Stich. I would have preferred to have had your advice, -sir. I daresay 'tis difficult to give. And you a stranger too. I -would have liked to save a young girl from the clutches of that old -witch, Lady Rounce, and if Beau Brocade rendered me that service, I'd be -tempted to hold my tongue about him.... He should have the hundred -guineas to-morrow and have nought to fear from me, if he brought me -those letters. If not ... well! ... well! ... we shall see.... The old -gallows here have long been idle ... we shall see ... we shall see.... -Good-day to you, sir ... proud to have met you.... No ... I'll not wait -for John Stich. Is this your horse? ... pretty creature! ... Good-day, -sir ... good-day." - -His Honour was extremely condescending and pleasant. He bowed very -politely to Bathurst, patted the beautiful chestnut horse, and showed no -further desire to talk with John Stich. - -Bathurst, with a frown on his handsome face, watched the Squire of -Hartington's burly figure disappear round the bend in the road. - -"I wonder now," he mused, "what mischief he's brewing. He seemed to me -up to no good. I suppose he guessed who I was." - -While he stood there watching, John Stich quickly entered the forge from -the rear. - -"I was in the cottage, Captain," he said, "my mother was serving the -ladies with some milk. But just now I saw Sir Humphrey Challoner -walking away from the forge. I feared he might see you." - -"He did see me, honest friend," said Jack, lightly. "His Honour and I -have just had a long and animated conversation together." - -"Great Heavens! the man is furious with you, Captain!" said the smith, -with genuine anxiety in his gruff voice, "he saw you distinctly on the -Heath last night. He may have recognised you to-day." - -"He did recognise me." - -"And may be brewing the devil's own mischief against you." - -"Oh, ho!" laughed the young man, with a careless shrug of the shoulders, -"against me? ... Well! you know, honest John, I am bound to end on the -gallows..." - -"Sooner or later! Sooner or later!" he added merrily, noting John's -look of sorrowful alarm. "They've not got me yet, though there are so -many soldiers about, as that piece of underdone roast-beef said just -now." - -"You'll not tell me what Sir Humphrey Challoner spoke to you about?" - -"No, friend, I will not," said Jack, with a look of infinite kindness -and placing a slender white hand on the smith's broad shoulder. "You -are my friend, you know, you shoe and care after my horse, you shelter -and comfort me. May Heaven's legions of angels bless you for that. Of -my life on the Heath I'll never tell you aught, whatever you may guess. -'Tis better so. I'll not have you compromised, or implicated in my -adventures. In case ... well! ... if they do catch me, you know, -friend, 'tis better for your sake that you should know nothing." - -"But you'll not go on the Heath to-night, Captain," pleaded the smith, -with a tremor in his voice. - -"Aye! that I will, John Stich," rejoined Bathurst, with a careless -laugh, which now had an unmistakable ring of bitterness in it, "to stop -a coach, to lift a purse! that's my business.... Aye! I'll to the -Heath, friend, 'tis my only home, you know, ere I find a resting-place -on the gallows yonder." - -John sighed and turned away, and thus did not hear the faint murmur that -came of a great and good heart over-full with longing and -disappointment. - -"My beautiful white rose! ... how pale she looked ... and how -exquisitely fair! ... Ah! me ... if only.... Jack! Jack! don't be a -fool!" he added with a short, deep sigh, "'tis too late; remember, for -Beau Brocade to go galloping after an illusion!" - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE FIGHT IN THE FORGE - - -John Stich ventured no further opposition, well knowing the reckless -spirit which his own quiet devotion was powerless to keep in check; -moreover, Lady Patience, closely followed by the ever-faithful Betty, -had just entered by the door that gave from the yard. - -"I was wondering, honest Stich," she said, "if my coach were yet in -sight. Meseems the horses must have had sufficient rest by now." - -"I'll just see, my lady," said John. - -At first sound of her low, musical voice, Bathurst had turned to her, -and now his eyes rested with undisguised admiration on her graceful -figure, dimly outlined in the fast-gathering shadows. She too caught -sight of him, and sorely against her will a vivid blush mounted to her -cheeks. She pulled her cloak close to her, partly to hide the bunch of -white roses that nestled in her belt. - -Thus there was an instant's silent pause, during which two hearts, both -young, both ardent, and imbued with the spirit of romance, beat--unknown -to one another--in perfect unison. - -And yet at this supreme moment in their lives--supreme though they -themselves knew it not--neither of them had begun to think of love. In -her there was just that delightful feeling of feminine curiosity, -mingled with the subtle homage of a proud woman for the man who, in her -presence, and for her sake, had proved himself brave, resourceful, full -of invention and of pluck: there was also an unexplainable sense of the -magnetism caused by the real _personality_, by the unmistakable -_vitality_ of the man. He lived, he felt, he thought differently to -anyone else, in a world quite apart and entirely his own, and she felt -the magic of this sunny nature, of the merry, almost boyish laugh, -overlying as it were the undercurrent of disappointment and melancholy -which had never degenerated into cynicism. - -But in him? Ah! in him there was above all a wild, passionate longing! -the longing of an intensely human, aching heart, when it is brought nigh -to its own highest ideal, and knows that that ideal is infinitely beyond -his reach. - -The broken-down gentleman! the notorious hero of midnight adventures! -highwayman! robber! thief! what right had he even to look upon her, the -perfect embodiment of exquisite womanhood, the beautiful realisation of -man's tenderest dreams? - -Perhaps at this one supreme moment in his reckless career the wild -adventurer felt the first pang of humbled pride, of that pride which had -defied existing laws and built up a code of its own. He understood then -all at once the stern, iron-bound rule which makes of man--free lord of -creation though he be--the slave of those same laws which he himself has -set up for his own protection. - -Beau Brocade, the highwayman, closed his eyes, and no longer dared to -look on his dream. - -He turned to his horse, and with great tenderness began stroking Jack o' -Lantern's soft, responsive nose. - -The next moment Stich, who had been busy with his work, looked up in -sudden alarm. - -"The soldiers!" he said briefly, "all running ... the Sergeant's at the -head o' them, and some of the shepherds at their heels." - -At first Patience did not understand where the actual danger lay. - -"My brother!" she gasped, terrified. - -But a look from Bathurst reassured her. - -"Absolutely safe," he said quickly and decisively, "a hiding-place known -to no one but me. I give your ladyship my word of honour that there is -not the remotest danger for him." - -She felt all her terrors vanishing. But these few words spoken to -comfort her went nigh to costing Bathurst dear. In those few brief -seconds he had lost the opportunity of jumping on Jack o' Lantern's back -and getting well away before the soldiers had reached the entrance of -the forge, and had effectually barred his chance of escape. - -As it was, he had only just undone the halter, and before he had time to -lead Jack o' Lantern out, the voice of the Sergeant was heard quite -close to the doorway, shouting breathlessly,-- - -"Forward! quick! Arrest that man!" - -"My sword, John! for your life!" was Bathurst's ready answer to the -challenge. - -Stich darted to a corner of the forge. Lady Patience gave a quick, -short gasp, she had suddenly realised that for some reason which she -could not quite fathom, the man who had so pluckily saved her brother -from the soldiers an hour ago, was now himself in imminent danger. - -Jack snatched the sword eagerly which the smith was holding out to him, -and resting the point of the blade on the ground before him, he tested -with evident satisfaction the temper of the steel. Not a moment too -soon this, for already the Sergeant, running, panting, infuriated by the -trick played upon him, had appeared in the doorway, closely followed by -two of his men. - -Caught like a rat in a hole, Jack was prepared to fight. Perhaps at -bottom he was glad that circumstances had not compelled him to show a -clean pair of heels before this new danger to himself. Alone, he might -have liked to flee, before _her_ he preferred to fight. - -"Odd's my life!" he said merrily, "'tis my friend, the Sergeant." - -"You sent me on a fool's errand," shouted the latter as loudly as his -scant breath would allow, "and 'tis my belief you are one of them rebel -lords yourself: at anyrate you shall give an account of yourself before -the magistrate. And if the smith dares to interfere, he does so at his -peril," he added, seeing that John Stich had seized his hammer, and was -handling it ominously, fully prepared to resist the established -authority on behalf of his friend. - -But whilst the Sergeant parleyed, Jack, with the rapid keen eye of a -practised fencer, and the wary glance of a child of the Moor, had taken -note of every advantage, however slight, which his present precarious -position had left him. - -The Sergeant and two men were in the doorway, momentarily pausing in -order to recover their breath. Three more of the squad were running -forward along the road, but were still some little distance off, and -would be a few minutes before they reached the smithy. - -Further on still there were the others, at present only appearing as -scarlet dots on the Heath. Close on the heels of the Sergeant, two or -three shepherds, with Jock Miggs in their rear, had come to see what was -happening in the forge. - -It had taken Jack Bathurst only a couple of seconds to note all these -details. Luck so far favoured him that, for the next minute or two at -least, he would only have to deal with the Sergeant and two soldiers. - -"Into it, my men! Arrest him in the name of the King!" shouted the -Sergeant, and the two soldiers, grasping their bayonets, made a rush for -the interior of the shed, ready to surround Jack and his horse. - -But quick as a lightning flash, Bathurst gave Jack o' Lantern a slight -prick in the ribs with his sword; the nervous creature, already rendered -restive by the sudden noise, began to plunge and rear, and thus, as his -master had hoped, scattered the compact group of assailants momentarily -away from the vicinity of his hoofs. - -This gave the young man the desired opportunity. Nimble as a fox when -hotly pursued, he stepped back and with one bound took up a position on -the top of a solid oak table, which stood in the deep shadow caused by -the doorway, thus, for the moment, leaving Jack o' Lantern as a barrier -between himself and his enemies. - -"Friend Stich," he shouted from this exalted height, "do you stand by -the ladies. Stir not from their side whatever happens, nor interfere -'tween me and the soldiers at your peril." - -The lust of battle was upon him now. He was satisfied with his position -and longed to begin the fight. On his left was the outside wall of the -shed, and guarding his right was the huge furnace of the smithy, out of -which the burning embers cast fitful flickering lights upon his tall, -slim figure, and drew from his blade sparks of blood-red gold. - -He had wrapped the thick capes of his heavy cloth coat round his left -arm: the folds of it hung down to his feet, forming a shield round the -lower part of his figure. - -Already the soldiers had recovered from the short panic caused by Jack -o' Lantern's timely rearing. One of them now seized the horse by the -bridle and led him out into the open, thus exposing Bathurst more fully -to the onslaught of their bayonets. - -Jack was fully prepared for them, and as soon as the Sergeant had given -the order to attack, his steel began to dart in and out of the gloom -like some live snake, with tongue of steel; illumined by the fitful -embers of the furnace fire, it seemed to give forth a thousand sparks of -witch-like flame with every turn of the cunning wrist. The outline of -his head and shoulders was lost in the dense shadows above, whilst his -assailants stood in the full glare of the setting sun, which, hot and -blinding, came streaming into the shed. - -Dazed by the flickering light of the furnace and the sunset glow beyond, -the soldiers made very ineffectual plunges into the dark shadow, whence, -fencing and parrying, and with many a quip and sally, Jack had at first -an easy task in keeping them at bay. - -This was mere child's play to him; already one of the men had an ugly -gash in his cheek, and the next moment saw the Sergeant reeling -backwards, with a well-directed thrust through his right arm. - -But easy and exciting as was this brilliant sword-play, it could not in -the long run be of much avail. Hardly had the Sergeant fallen back than -three more soldiers, also hot and furious, came rushing in to reinforce -their comrades. Bathurst had in his day been counted the finest fencer -in England, his wrist was as fresh and strong as the steel which he -held, but the odds were beginning to accumulate against him. - -Five men in the shed, and the others could not be very far away! - -John Stich felt his muscles nearly cracking with the vigorous effort to -maintain his quiescent position and not to come to the rescue of his -hard-pressed friend. - -Suddenly one of the soldiers levelled his musket. - -Patience saw it and gave a cry of horror. Stich, throwing prudence to -the winds, would have rushed forward, to prevent this awful thing at any -cost, but the Sergeant, though wounded, had lost none of his zest, and -his eye had been fixed on the smith. - -"Keep back the smith!" he shouted, "use your bayonets! quick!" - -And as two of his men obeyed him, he himself threw his full weight -against John, and together the three men succeeded in rendering the -worthy fellow momentarily powerless. - -"Captain! Captain!" he shouted desperately, "have a care!" - -Of course Jack had realised his danger. The group of his assailants -stood out in every detail before him, like a clear-cut sunlit picture. -But against the musket levelled at him he could do nothing, it was -Luck's chance to do him a good turn; he himself was hard pressed by two -men close to his knees. - -Patience felt as if her heart would cease to beat, her impulse was to -rush blindly, stupidly forward, when suddenly a piping voice, vague and -uncertain, was heard above the click of Jack's sword. - -"Don't 'ee let 'em get 'ee, sir!" and Jock Miggs, with trembling, yet -determined hands, gave a vigorous tug to the coat tails of the soldier, -who was even now pulling the trigger of his musket. The latter, who had -been aiming very deliberately for the one bright patch on Jack's person -caused by the red glow of the furnace, lost his aim: there was a loud -report, and a bullet went whizzing high above Bathurst's head, and -buried itself in the woodwork above him. - -This was the signal for a new phase of this curious and unequal -struggle. The shepherds, at first, knowing nothing of the cause of this -quarrel, had stood open-mouthed, somewhat frightened and awaiting -events, at a short distance from the scene of the scuffle. - -But when the chestnut horse had been led out into the open, they -suddenly had an inkling as to who its owner was. Jack o' Lantern, -bearing the masked highwayman on his back, was well known to the poor -folk on Brassing Moor. - -Beau Brocade, who but yesterday had left fifty guineas in the -Brassington poor box! Beau Brocade, the hero of the Heath! He! to be -caught by a parcel of red coats? - -Never! Jock Miggs but voiced the feeling of the majority. - -"Noa! Noa!" they shouted lustily. "Don't 'ee let 'em get 'ee, sir!" - -"Not if I can help it, friends!" rejoined Bathurst in gay response. - -They did not resist the soldiers; not they! Your Derbyshire yokel is -too cautious an individual to run absolutely counter to established -authority, but they saw their friend, their helper and benefactor, in -trouble and they did what they could to help him. They got in the way, -jostled the soldiers when they dared, kept the attention of one or two -occupied, preventing a general onslaught on the oak table, on which -Bathurst, still alert, still keen, was holding his own against such -terrible odds. - -"There's for you, my gallant lobster," quoth Jack, gaily. - -He was standing far back on the table, entrenched between the wall on -one side and the furnace on the other, and every time one of the -soldiers ventured too near, his sword would dart out of the gloom: it -seemed like a living creature of fire and steel, so quick and bold were -his feints and parries, his sudden attacks in quarte and sixte, and all -the while he kept one eye on the open Moor, where Jack o' Lantern, -quivering with impatience, stood pawing the ground, and sniffing the -keen evening air, ready to carry his master away, out upon the Heath, -out of sight and out of danger. - -Obviously the unequal contest could not last much longer. Jack knew -that as well as any one. Already the red dots in the far distance had -drawn considerably nearer, the next few minutes would bring this fresh -reinforcement to the wearied, exhausted assailants. - -The Sergeant too was ready to seize his best opportunity. He still kept -two men on guard over the smith, but he soon saw that the two, who were -storming Bathurst's improvised citadel, were no match with their clumsy -bayonets against a brilliant fencer who, moreover, had the advantage of -light and shadow, and of his elevated position. - -Though he was wounded, and bleeding profusely, he had set his heart on -the capture of this mysterious stranger, and having cast a glance on the -open Moor beyond, he saw with renewed zest two more of his men hurrying -along. With all the strength he had left he shouted to them to come on, -and then turned to encourage the others. - -"Take it easy, my men! Hold out a moment longer. We've got the rebel -at last." - -But Jack too had seen and understood. He was neither tired nor hurt, -but two more men against him would inevitably prove his undoing. -Already he could hear the shouts of the soldiers hurrying in response to -their Sergeant's call. The next minute they would be in the forge. - -A sudden change of tactics led his two assailants to venture nearer than -they had done hitherto; he drew back into the shadows, and they, fired -by the lust of capture, under the impression that he was at last -exhausted, ventured nearer and nearer still; already they were leaning -over the edge of the table, one man was thrusting at Bathurst's legs, -when the latter, with a rapidity that seemed quicker than a flash of -lightning, disengaged his left arm from his heavy coat, and with both -hands threw it right over the heads of the two men. Before they had -time to release themselves from its folds, Jack, with one bound was off -the table, and the next instant he had torn open the door of the furnace -and dragged out the huge iron poker with which the smith raked his fire, -and with a cry of triumph slung this new and formidable weapon high over -his head. - -The effect of this sudden move was one of uncontrollable panic: the -red-hot metal, as he swung it over his head, dropped a far-reaching -shower of burning sparks; soldiers and Sergeant all drew back -instinctively, and Jack, still brandishing his weapon, reached the -entrance and was out in the open before any one dared to stop him. - -There he flung the great glowing thing in the direction of his -assailants, who even now were rallying to the attack. - -But the moment had been precious to Bathurst, and Jack o' Lantern was a -king among horses. Without use of stirrup or rein, Jack, like the true -child of the wild Moor that he was, flung himself upon the beautiful -creature's back. - -Thus Patience saw him for one brief second, framed in the doorway of the -forge, the last rays of the setting sun forming a background of crimson -and gold for his slim, upright figure, and the brown curls on his head. - -It was but a moment's vision, but one she would carry enshrined in her -memory through all the years to come. His eyes, large, glowing, -magnetic, met hers in a flash, and hers, bright with unshed tears, met -his in quick response. - -"Soldiers!" he shouted, as he rode away, "an you think I am a rebel -lord, then after me, quick! whilst I ride towards the sunset." - - - - - PART II - - THE HEATH - - - - CHAPTER XV - - THE OUTLAW - - -Beau Brocade drew rein on the spur of the hill. He had galloped all the -way from the forge, out towards the sunset, then on, ever on, over gorse -and bracken, on red sandy soil and soft carpet of ling, on, still on! - -Overhead, on the blue-green dome of the evening sky, a giant comet, made -up of myriads of tiny, rose-tipped clouds, formed a fairy way, ever -diminishing, ever more radiant, pointing westwards to the setting sun, -where orange and crimson and blue melted in one glorious mist of gold. - -Out far away, the distant Tors glowed in the evening light, like great -barriers to some mystic elusive land beyond. - -Jack o' Lantern had responded to his master's mood. The reins falling -loosely on his neck, needing neither guide nor spur, save the excitement -of his own mad career, he had continued his wild gallop on the Heath, -until a sudden jerk of the reins brought him to a standstill on the very -edge of a steep declivity, with quivering flanks and sensitive nerves -all a-tremble, even as the last ruddy glow died out in the western sky. - -One by one the myriads of rose-tipped clouds now put on their grey -cloaks of evening. From the rain-soaked ground and dripping branches of -bramble or fern, a blue mist was rising upwards, blending deep shadows -and tender lights in one hazy monotone. - -Gradually every sound died out upon the Heath, only from afar came -intermittently the mournful booming of a solitary bittern, astray from -its nest, or now and then the sudden quaking of a tuft of grass, a -tremor amidst the young fronds of the bracken, there, where a melancholy -toad was seeking shelter for the night. - -Awesome, silent, majestic, the great Moor was at peace. The passions, -the strife, the turmoil of mankind seemed far, very far away: further -than that twinkling star which peeped down, shy and solitary, from -across the rolling billows of boundless universe. - -Beau Brocade stretched out both arms, and sighed in an agony of longing. -Fire was in his veins, a burning thirst in his heart, for something he -dared not define. - -How empty seemed his life! how wrecked! how hopelessly wasted! - -Yet he loved the Moor, the peace, the solitude: he loved the sunset on -the Heath and every sound of animal life in this lonesome vastness. - -But to-night!... - -One smile from a woman's lips, a glow of pride in her eyes, just one -cluster of snow-white roses at her breast, and all the glories of Nature -in her most lavish mood seemed tame, empty, oh! unutterably poor. - -Nay! he would have bartered his very soul at this moment to undo the -past few years. To be once more Jack Bathurst of His Majesty's regiment -of Guards, before one evening's mistake ruined the whole of his life. A -quarrel over a game of cards, a sudden blind, unreasoning rage, a blow -against his superior officer, and this same Jack Bathurst, the dandy -about town, the gallant, enthusiastic, promising young soldier, was -degraded from his military rank and thrown, resourceless, disgraced, -banished, upon a merciless world, that has neither pity nor pardon for -failures or mistakes. - -But, quite unlike the young Earl of Stretton, Jack Bathurst indulged in -no morbid self-condemnation. Fate and he had thrown the dice, and he had -lost. But there was too much of the untamed devil in him, too much -spirit of wild adventure, to allow him to stoop to the thousand and one -expedients, the shifts, the humiliations which the world holds in store -for the broken-down gentleman. - -Moneyless, friendless, with his career irretrievably ruined, he yet -scorned the life of the outcast or the pariah, of that wretched fragment -of humanity that hangs on the fringe of society, envying the pleasures -it can no longer share, haunting the gambling booths or noisy brothels -of the towns, grateful for a nod, a handshake, from some other fragment -less miserable than itself. - -No! a thousand times no! - -Jack Bathurst looked the future that was before him squarely in the -face, then chose the life of the outlaw with a price upon his head. -Aye! and forced that life to yield to him its full measure of delights: -the rough, stormy nights on the Moor! the wild gallops over gorse and -bramble, with the keen nor'-wester lashing his face and whipping up his -blood, and with a posse of soldiers at his heels! the devil-may-care, -mad, merry existence of the outlaw, who cuts a purse by night, and -carries his life on his saddle-bow! - -That he chose and more! for he chose the love of the poor for miles -around! the blessings spoken by suffering and patient lips upon the name -of the highwayman, of Beau Brocade, who took from the rich at risk of -his life in order to give to the needy. - -And now at even, on Brassing Moor, when a lonely shepherd caught sight -of a chestnut horse bearing a slim, masked figure on its back, or heard -in the distance a young voice, fresh as a skylark, singing some -half-sad, half-lively ditty, he would turn his weary eyes in simple -faith upwards to the stars and murmur gently,-- - -"God bless Beau Brocade!" - -Perhaps He had! - -The stars knew, but they did not tell! - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - A RENCONTRE ON THE HEATH - - -Master Mittachip, on his lean nag, with his clerk, Master Duffy, on the -pillion behind him, was on his way to Brassington. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner had not returned to the Moorhen after his visit -to the forge until the sun was very low down in the west. He had bidden -the attorney to await him at the inn, and Master Mittachip had not dared -to disobey. - -Yet the delay meant the crossing of the Heath along the bridle path to -Brassington, well after the shadows of evening had lent the lonely Moor -an air of awesome desolation. There were the footpads, and the pixies, -the human and fairy midnight marauders, who all found the steep -declivities, the clumps of gorse and bracken, the hollows and the pits, -safe resting-places by day, but who were wont to emerge from their lair -after dark for the terror and better undoing of the unfortunate, belated -traveller. - -Then there was Beau Brocade! - -Master Duffy too was very timid, and clung with trembling arms to the -meagre figure of the attorney. - -"Nay! Master Duffy!" quoth Mittachip, with affected firmness, "why do -you pry about so? Are you afraid?" - -"Nay! nay! Master Mittachip," replied the clerk, whose teeth were -chattering audibly, "I am ... n ... n ... not af ... f ... f ... fraid." - -"Tush, man, you have me near you," rejoined Mittachip, boldly. "See! I -am armed! Look at my pistols!" - -And he leant back in the saddle, so as to give Master Duffy a good view -of a pair of huge pistols that protruded ostentatiously from his belt. - -Yet all around the air was still, the solitary Heath was at peace, even -the breezy nor'-wester, that had blustered throughout the day, seemed to -have lain down to rest. - -Far out eastwards, the moon, behind a fast dispersing bank of clouds, -was casting a silver radiance that was not yet a light, but only a -herald of the glittering radiance to come. - -The Moor was silent and at peace: only at times there came the sound of -a gentle flutter, a moorhen perhaps within its nest, or a belated lizard -seeking its home. - -Whenever these slight sounds occurred, Master Mittachip's hands that -held the reins trembled visibly, and his clerk clung more closely to -him. - -"What was that?" said the attorney in an awed whisper, as his frightened -ears caught a more distinct noise. - -"W ... w ... why don't you draw your p ... p ... pistols, Master -Mittachip?" murmured Duffy, in mad alarm. - -The noise was hushed again, but to the overwrought nerves of the two men -in terror, there came the certain, awful perception that someone was on -the Heath besides themselves, someone not far off, whom the mist hid -from their view, but who knew that they were travelling along the bridle -path, who could see and perhaps hear them. - -"Truth to tell, Master Duffy," whispered the attorney, whose teeth too -had begun to chatter. "Truth to tell, it's no use my drawing them ... -they ... they are not loaded." - -Master Duffy nearly fell off the pillion in his fright. - -"What?" - -"There's neither powder nor shot in them," continued Master Mittachip, -ruefully. - -"Th ... th ... then we are lost!" was Master Duffy's ejaculation of woe. - -"Eh?--what?" quoth Mittachip, "but your pistols are charged." - -And his pointed elbow sought behind it for the handles of two formidable -weapons, which were stuck in Master Duffy's belt. - -"N ... n ... nay!" whispered the clerk, who now was blue with terror. -"I dared not carry the weapons loaded.... I trusted to your valour, -Master Mittachip, to protect us." - -"What was that?" - -Again that noise! this time a good deal nearer, and it seemed to Master -Mittachip's affrighted eyes as if he saw something moving on the bridle -path before him. But he would not show too many signs of fear before -his own clerk. - -"Tush, man!" he said with as much boldness as he could command. "'Tis -only a lizard in the grass mayhap. We'll ride on quite boldly. We -can't be far from Brassington now, and no footpads would dare to attack -two lusty fellows on horseback, with pistols showing in their belts! ... -Lord!" he added with a shudder, "how lonely this place appears!" - -"And that rascal, Beau Brocade, haunts this Heath every night, I'm -told," murmured Master Duffy, who felt more dead than alive. - -"Sh! sh! sh! speak not of the devil, Master Duffy, lest he appear!..." - -"Hark!!!" - -The two men now clung trembling to one another; not ten paces from them -there came the sound of a horse's snorting, then suddenly a voice rang -out clearly through the mist-laden air,-- - -"Hello! who goes there!" - -"The Lord have mercy upon us!" whispered Mittachip. - -"It must be Beau Brocade himself," echoed the clerk. - -The next moment a horse and rider came into view. Master Mittachip and -his clerk were too terrified even to look. The former had jerked the -reins and brought his lean nag to a standstill, and both men now sat -with eyes closed, teeth chattering, their very faces distorted with -fear. - -Beau Brocade had reined his horse quite close to them, and was peering -through his black mask at the two terror-stricken faces. Evidently they -amused him vastly, for he burst out laughing. - -"Odd's my life! here's a pretty pair of scarecrows! ... Well! I see -you can stand, so now let's see what you've got to deliver!" - -At this Master Mittachip contrived to open his eyes for a second; but -the black mask, and the heavily cloaked figure looked so ghostlike, so -awful in the mist, that he promptly closed them again, and murmured with -a shudder.-- - -"Mercy, oh, noble sir! We ... we are poor men!..." - -"Poor-spirited men, you mean?" quoth Beau Brocade, giving the trembling -figure a quick, vigorous shake. "Now then! off that nag of yours! -Quick's the word!" - -But even before this word of command Master Mittachip, dragging his -clerk after him, had tumbled, quaking, off his horse. They now stood -clinging to each other, a miserable bundle of frightened humanity. - -"Come!" said Beau Brocade, looking down with some amusement at the -spectacle. "I'm not going to hurt you--I never shoot at snipe! But -you'll have to turn out your pockets and sharp too, an you want to -resume your journey to-night." - -He had seized Master Duffy by the collar. The clerk was an all -too-ready prey for any highwayman, and stooping from his saddle, Beau -Brocade had quickly extracted a leather bag from the pocket of his coat. - -"Oho! guineas, as I live!" - -"Kind sir," began Duffy, tremblingly. - -"Now, listen to me, both of you," said Beau Brocade, trying to hide his -enjoyment of the scene under an air of great sternness. "I know who you -are. I know what work you've been doing this afternoon. Extorting -rents barely due from a few wretched people, for your employers as -hard-hearted as yourselves." - -"Kind sir..." - -"Silence! or I shoot! Besides, 'twere no use to tell me lies. The -people about here know me. They call me Beau Brocade. I know them and -their troubles. I happened to hear, for instance, that you extracted -two guineas from the Widow Coggins, threatening her with a process for -dilapidations unless she gave you hush money." - -"'Twas not our fault, kind sir..." - -"Then there was Mistress Haddakin, from whom you extracted fifty -shillings for a new gate, which you don't intend to put up for her: and -this, although she has only just buried her husband, and had a baby sick -at home. You put on finer airs with the poor people than you do with -me, eh?" - -"'Tis not our money, sir," protested Master Mittachip, humbly. - -"Some of it goes into your own pockets. Hush money, blood money, I call -it. That's what I want from you, and then a bit over for the poor box -on behalf of your employers." - -He weighed the leather bag which he had taken out of Master Duffy's -pocket. - -"This'll do for the poor box. Now I want the five pounds you extorted -from Widow Coggins and Mistress Haddakin. The poor women'll be glad of -it on the morrow." - -"I haven't a penny more than that bagful, sir," protested Master -Mittachip. "My employers took all the money from me. 'Twere their -rents I was collecting. I swear it, sir, kind sir! on my word of -honour! And I am an honest man!" - -"Come here!" - -And Beau Brocade reined his horse back a few paces. - -"Come here!" he repeated. - -Mittachip was too frightened to disobey. He came forward, limping very -perceptibly. - -"Why do you walk like that?" asked Beau Brocade. - -"I'm a feeble old man and rheumatic," whined Mittachip, despondently. - -"Then 'twere better to ease the load out of your boot, friend. Sit down -here and take it off." - -And he pointed to a piece of boulder projecting through the shallow -earth. - -But this Master Mittachip seemed very loth to do. - -"Kind sir..." he protested again. - -"Sit down and take off the right boot!" repeated Beau Brocade more -peremptorily, and with a gay laugh and mock threatening gesture he -pointed the muzzle of his pistol at the terror-stricken attorney. - -There was naught to do but to obey: and quickly too. Master Mittachip -cursed the rascally highwayman under his breath, and even consigned him -to eternal damnation, before he finally handed him up his boot. - -Beau Brocade turned it over, shook it, and a bag of jingling guineas -fell at Jack o' Lantern's feet. - -"Give me that bag!" - -"Sir! kind sir!" moaned Master Mittachip, as he obediently handed up the -bag of gold to his merciless assailant. "Have pity! I am a ruined man! -'Tis Sir Humphrey Challoner's money. I've been collecting it for him -... and he's a hard man!" - -"Oh!" said Beau Brocade, "'tis Sir Humphrey Challoner's money, is it? -Nay! you old scarecrow, but 'tis his Honour himself sent me on the Heath -to-night. Oho!" he added, whilst his merry, boyish laugh went echoing -through the evening air, "methinks Sir Humphrey will enjoy the joke. Do -you tell him, friend--an you see him in the morn--that you've met Beau -Brocade and that he'll do his Honour's bidding." - -He counted some of the money out of the bag and put it in his pocket: -the remainder he handed back to the astonished lawyer. - -"There!" he said with sudden earnestness, "I'll only make restitution to -the poor whom you have robbed. You may thank your stars that an angel -came down from heaven to-day and cast eyes of tender pity upon me, so -that I care not to rob you, save for those in dire want. You may mount -that nag of yours now, and continue your journey to Brassington. No -turning aside, remember, and answer me when I challenge your -good-night." - -Master Mittachip and his clerk had no call to be told twice. They -mounted with as much agility as their trembling limbs would allow. -Truly they considered themselves lucky in having saved some money out of -the clutches of the rogue, and did not care to speculate on the cause of -their good fortune. - -A few minutes later their lean horse was once more on its way, bearing -its double burden. At first they had both looked back, attracted--now -that their terror was gone--by the sight of that tall, youthful figure -on the beautiful thoroughbred standing there on the crest of the hill -and gradually growing more and more dim in the fast-gathering mist. - -The bridle path at this point dips very suddenly and a sharp declivity -leads thence, straight on to Brassington. - -Beau Brocade's sharp eyes, accustomed to the gloom, watched horse and -riders until the mist enveloped them and hid them from his view. Then -he called loudly,-- - -"Good-night!" - -And faintly echoing came the quaking reply,-- - -"Good-night!" - -After that there was silence again. The outlaw was alone upon the Heath -once more, the Heath which had been his home for so long. - -For him it had no cruelty and held no terror: the tall gorse and bracken -oft sheltered him from the rain! Wrapped in his greatcoat, he had oft -watched the tiny lizards darting to and fro in the grass, or listened to -the melancholy cry of moorhen or heron. The tiny rough branches of the -heather had been a warm carpet on which he had slept on lazy afternoons. - -The outlaw found a friend in great and lonely Nature, and when he was -aweary he laid his head on her motherly breast, and like a child found -rest. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - A FAITHFUL FRIEND - - -How long he stood there on the spur of the hill he could not afterwards -have told. It may have been a few seconds, perhaps it was an eternity. - -During those few seconds or that eternity, the world was re-created for -him: for him it became more beautiful than he had ever conceived it in -his dreams. A woman's smile had changed it into an earthly paradise. A -new and strange happiness filled his being, and set brain and sinews on -fire. A happiness so great that his heart well nigh broke with the -burden of it, and the bitter longing for what could never be. - -The cry of a moorhen thrice repeated at intervals roused him from his -dreams. - -"John Stich," he murmured, "I wonder now what brings him out to-night!" - -And with a final sigh of deep regret, a defiant toss of the head, Beau -Brocade turned Jack o' Lantern's head northwards whence the cry had -come. - -There a rough track, scarce perceptible amongst the bracken, led -straight up to the forge of John Stich. Horse and rider knew every inch -of the way, although for the moment the fitful moon still hid her light -behind a bank of clouds, and the mist now enveloped the Moor in a thick -mantle of gloom. - -Soon the sensitive ears of the highwayman, accustomed to every sound, -had perceived heavy footsteps on the unbeaten track, and presently a -burly figure detached itself from the darkness beyond and came rapidly -forward. - -"Odd's my life! but it's friend John!" said Beau Brocade, with a great -show of severity. "Zounds! but this is rank insubordination! How dare -you follow me on the Heath, you villain, and leave your noble guest -unprotected? What?" - -"His lordship is safe enough, Captain," said the smith, who at sight of -the young man had heaved an obvious sigh of relief, "and I could not -rest until I'd seen you again." - -"Faith! you can't do that in this confounded mist, eh, John?" quoth -Bathurst, lightly. But his fresh young voice had softened with a quaint -tenderness, whilst he looked down, smiling, at the upturned face of his -devoted friend. - -"Well! what about my friend, the Sergeant and the soldiers, eh?" he -added gaily. - -"Oh! the Sergeant is too sick to speak," rejoined the smith, earnestly, -"but the men vow you're a rebel lord. Those that were fit walked down -to Brassington directly after you left: one man, who was wounded in the -arm, started for Aldwark: they've gone to get help, Captain; either more -soldiers, or loafers from the villages who may be tempted by the reward. -They'll scour this Heath for you, from Aldwark to the cross-roads, and -from Brassington to Wirksworth, and..." - -"And so much the better, friend Stich, for while they hunt for me his -lordship will be safe." - -"But have a care, Captain! they're determined men, now, for you've -fooled them twice. Be gy! but you've never been in so tight a corner -before." - -"Pshaw!" quoth Beau Brocade, lightly, "life is none too precious a boon -for me that I should make an effort to save it." - -"Captain..." murmured Stich, reproachfully. - -"There, friend John," added the young man, with that same touch of -almost womanly tenderness, that had endeared him to the heart of honest -Stich, "there! there! have no fear for me! I tell thee, man, they'll -not get me on this Heath! Think you the furze and bracken, the heron or -peewit would betray me? Me, their friend! Not they! I am safe -enough!" he continued, while a strange ring of excitement made his young -voice quiver. "Let them after me, and leave _her_ brother in peace! And -then, John! when he is safe ... perhaps I may see her smile once more! -... Heigh-ho! A fool am I, friend! A fool, I tell thee! fit for the -gallows-tree outside thy forge!" - -John said nothing: he could not see Jack's face in the gloom, and did -not understand his wild, mad mood, but his faithful heart ached to hear -the ring of bitter longing in the voice of his friend. - -There was a moment's pause, whilst Bathurst made a visible effort to -control his excitement. Then he said more calmly,-- - -"Here, John! take this money, friend!" - -He dived in the pocket of his big caped coat and then placed in John's -hand the two bags of money he had extracted from Master Mittachip and -his clerk. - -"I've just got it from a blood-sucking agent of Sir Humphrey -Challoner's: 'tis money wrung from poor people, who can ill afford it." - -"Aye! aye!" quoth John, with a sigh. - -"I want two guineas to go to Mistress Haddakin, who has just lost her -husband: the poor wretch is nigh to starving. Then thirty shillings are -for the Widow Coggins, up Hartington way: those blood-suckers took her -last shilling yesterday. Wilt see to it, friend John?" - -"Aye! aye!" - -"The rest is for the poor box at Aldwark this time. Perhaps there'll be -more before the morn." - -"Captain..." - -"Hush! don't begin to lecture, John!" said Beau Brocade, with curious -earnestness. "I tell thee, friend, there's madness in my veins -to-night. I pray thee go back home, and leave me to myself." - -"Don't send me away, Captain," pleaded John, "I ... I ... am uneasy, -and..." - -"Dear, kind, faithful John," murmured Bathurst. "Zounds! but I'm an -ungrateful wretch, for I vow thou dost love me, friend." - -"You know I do, Captain. I ... I ... I'd give..." - -"Nay ... nothing!" interrupted Jack, quickly, "give me nothing but that -love of thine, friend ... it is more precious than life ... but I pray -thee, let me be to-night ... I swear to thee I'll do no harm.... I'll -see thee in the morn, John.... I'll be safe ... never fear!" - -John Stich sighed. He knew that further protest was useless. Already -Beau Brocade had turned Jack o' Lantern's head once more towards the -crest of the hill. The smith waited awhile, listening while he could to -the sound of the horse's hoofs on the rain-sodden earth. His honest -heart was devoured with anxiety both for his friend and for the brave -young lady who was journeying townwards to-night. - -Suddenly it seemed to him as if far away he could hear the creaking of -wheels on the distant Wirksworth road. The air was so still, that -presently he could hear it quite distinctly. 'Twas her ladyship's -coach, no doubt, plying its slow, wearying way along the quaggy road. - -It would be midway to the little town by now. The narrow track on which -John stood cut the road at right angles, about a mile and a half away. -The smith took to blaming himself that he had kept her ladyship's -journey a secret from Beau Brocade. The latter was a monarch on the -Heath: he would have kept footpads at bay, watched and guarded the -coach, and seen it, mayhap, safely as far as Wirksworth. - -Never for a moment did the slightest fear cross the smith's mind that -the notorious highwayman would stop Lady Patience's coach. Still, a -warning would not have come amiss. Perhaps it was not too late. The -road wound in and out a good deal, skirting bogland or massive boulders. -John hoped that on the path he might yet come across Jack o' Lantern and -his master, before they had met the coach. - -He started to run and had covered nearly a mile when suddenly he heard a -shout, which made his honest heart almost stop in its beating, a shout, -followed by two pistol shots in rapid succession. - -The shout had rung out clear and distinct in the fresh, lusty voice of -Beau Brocade. - -"Stand and deliver!" - -John dared not think what the pistol shots had meant. - -With elbows now pressed to his sides, he began running at a wild gallop -along the rough, unbeaten track, towards the point whence shots and -shout had come. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - MOONLIGHT ON THE HEATH - - -The jolting of the carriage along the quaggy road had been well nigh -unendurable. Mistress Betty was groaning audibly. But Lady Patience, -with her fair head resting against the cushions, was forgetting all -bodily ailments, whilst absorbed in mental visions that flitted, swift -and ever-changing, before her excited brain. - -There was the dear brother in peril of his life, his young face looking -wan and anxious, then Sir Humphrey Challoner, the man she instinctively, -unreasonably dreaded, and John Stich, the faithful retainer, brave and -burly, guarding his lord's life with his own. These faces and figures -wandered ghostlike before her eyes, and then vanished, leaving before -her mental vision but one form and face, a pair of merry, deep-set grey -eyes, that at times looked so inexpressibly sad, a head crowned with a -mass of unruly curls, a figure, lithe and active, sitting upon a -chestnut horse and riding away towards the sunset. - -It was a pleasant picture: no wonder Patience allowed her mind to dwell -on it, and in fancy to hear that full-toned voice either in lively song -or gay repartee, or at times with that ring of tenderness in it, which -had brought the tears of pity to her eyes. - -The hours sped slowly on, the cumbrous vehicle jostled onwards, plunging -and creaking, whilst Thomas urged the burdened horses along. - -Suddenly a jerk, more vigorous than before, roused Patience from her -half-wakeful dreams. The heavy coach had seemed to take a plunge on its -side, there was fearful creaking, and much swearing from the driver's -box, a shout or two, panting efforts on the part of the horses, and -finally the vehicle came to a complete standstill. - -Mistress Betty had started up in alarm. - -"Lud preserve us!" she shouted, putting a very sleepy head out of the -carriage window, "what's the matter now, Thomas?" - -"We be stuck in a quagmire," muttered the latter worthy, vainly trying -to smother more forcible language, out of respect for her ladyship's -presence. - -Timothy, the groom, had dismounted: lanthorn in hand, he was examining -the cause of the catastrophe. - -"Get the other lanthorn, Thomas!" he shouted to the driver, "and come -and give me a hand, else we'll have to spend the night on this -God-forsaken heath." - -"Is it serious, Timothy?" queried Lady Patience, anxiously. - -"I hope not, my lady. The axle is caked with mud on this side, and we -do seem stuck in some kind of morass, but if Thomas'll hurry himself..." - -The latter, with many more suppressed oaths, had at last got down from -his box, and had brought a second lanthorn round to the back of the -coach, where Timothy had already started scraping shovelfuls of inky mud -from the axle of the off-wheel. - -It was at this moment, and when the two men were intent upon their work, -that a voice, loud and distinct, suddenly shouted behind them,-- - -"Stand and deliver!" - -Thomas, who was of a timorous disposition, dropped the lanthorn he held, -and in his fright knocked over the other which was on the ground. He -was a man of peace, and knew from past experience that 'tis safer not to -resist these gentlemen of the roads. - -When therefore the highwayman's well-known challenge rang out in the -night, he threw up both hands in order to testify to his peaceful -intentions; but Timothy, who was younger and more audacious, drew a -couple of pistols from his belt, and at all hazards fired them off, one -after the other, in the direction whence had come the challenge. The -next moment he felt a vigorous blow on his wrists and the pistols flew -out of his hand. - -"Hands up or I shoot!" - -Thomas was already on his knees. Timothy, thus disarmed, thought it -more prudent to follow suit. - -From within the coach could be heard Mistress Betty's shrill and -terrified voice,-- - -"Nay! nay! your ladyship shall not go!" followed by her ladyship's -peremptory command,-- - -"Silence, child! Let me go! Stay you within an you are afraid!" - -There was a moment's silence, for at sound of her voice Beau Brocade had -started, then he leaned forward on his horse, listening with all his -might, wondering if indeed his ears had not misled him, if 'twas not a -dream-voice that came to him out of the gloom. - -"Have I the honour of addressing Lady Rounce?" he murmured mechanically. - -At this moment the darkness, which up to now had been intense, began -slowly to give place to a faint, silvery light. The moon, pale and -hazy, tried to pierce the mist that still enveloped her as with a cold, -blue mantle, and one by one tipped blackthorn and gorse with a cluster -of shimmering diamonds. - -Like a ghostly panorama the heath revealed its thousand beauties, its -many mysteries: the deep, dark tangle of bramble and ling, beneath which -hide the gnomes and ghouls, the tiny blue cups of the harebells, wherein -the pixies have their home; the fairy rings in the grass, where the -sprites dance their wild saraband on nights such as this, with the -crickets to play the tunes, and the glow-worms to light them in their -revels. - -But to Beau Brocade the dim radiance of the moon, shy and golden through -her veil of mist, only revealed one great, one wonderful picture: that -of his dream made real, of his heavenly vision come down to earth, the -picture of _her_ stepping out of the coach that she might speak to him. - -She came forward quickly, and the hood flew back from her face. She was -looking at him with a half-puzzled, half-haughty expression in her eyes, -and Beau Brocade thought he had never seen eyes that were so deeply -blue. He murmured her name,-- - -"The Lady Patience!" - -"Nay, sir, since you know my name," she said, with a quaint, almost -defiant toss of her small, graceful head. "I pray you, whoever you may -be, to let me depart in peace. See," she added, holding a heavy purse -out to him, "I have brought you what money I have. Will you take it and -let me go?" - -But he dared not speak. He longed to turn Jack o' Lantern's head and to -gallop away quickly out of her sight, before she had recognised him and -learnt that the man on whom she had looked with such tender pity, and -with such glowing admiration, was the highway robber, the outlaw, the -notorious thief. Yet so potent was the spell of her voice, the moist -shimmer of her lips, the depth and glitter of her blue eyes, that he -felt as if iron fetters held him fast to the ground, there enchained -before her, until at least she should speak again. - -He dismounted and she stepped a little closer to him, so close now that, -had he stretched out his hand, he might have touched her cloak, or even -those white finger-tips which... - -"Believe me, sir," she said a little impatiently, seeing that he did not -speak, "I give you all I have freely an you molest me no more. I have -urgent, very urgent business in London, which brooks of no delay. -Kindly allow my men to go free." - -She was pleading now, all the haughtiness vanished from her face. Her -voice, too, shook perceptibly; the tall, silent figure before her was -beginning to frighten her. - -Yet he dared not trust himself to speak, lest by a word he should dispel -this dream. This golden vision of paradise that heaven had so -unaccountably sent to him this night! it might vanish again amidst the -stars and leave the poor outlaw to his loneliness. - -This moment was so precious, so wonderful. - -Madly he longed for the god-like power to stop Time in its relentless -way, to make sun, moon and stars, the earth and all eternity pause -awhile, whilst he looked upon her, as she stood there, with the pleading -look in her eyes, the honey-coloured moon above throwing a dim and -flickering light upon her upturned face ... her golden hair ... that -tiny hand stretched out to him. - -She seemed to wait for his reply, and at last in a low voice, which he -tried to disguise, he murmured,-- - -"Madam, I entreat you, have no fear! Believe me, I would sooner never -see the sun set again than cause you even one short moment's anxiety." - -Again that quaint puzzled look came into her eyes, she looked at the -black mask that hid his face, as if she would penetrate the secret which -it kept. - -"Will you not take this purse?" she asked. - -"Nay! I will not take the purse, fair lady," he said, still speaking -very low, "but I would fain, an you would permit it, hold but for one -instant your hand in mine. Will you not let me?" - -The impulse was irresistible, the desire to hold her hand so strong that -he had no power to combat it. She seemed puzzled and not a little -frightened, but neither haughty nor resentful at his presumption: -perhaps she felt the influence of the mystery which surrounded the dark, -cloaked figure before her, or the more subtle spell of the mist-covered -moon. She made no movement towards him, her hand which he craved to -hold had dropped to her side. - -There was magic in the vast stillness of the Moor; on each dew-tipped -point of grey-green gorse, from every frond of emerald bracken, there -glistened a tiny crystal. Timothy and Thomas had retreated to a safer -position, out of sight behind the huge vehicle, and inside the coach -Betty was cowering in terror. They stood alone, these two, away from all -the world, in a land all their own, a land of dreams, of poetry, and -romance, where men died for a look from women's eyes, and conquered the -universe for a smile. - -How silent was the Heath while he looked at her, and she returned his -gaze half-trembling, wholly puzzled. - -"Will you not let me?" he pleaded. And instinctively his voice trembled -in the pleading, and there came back to her mind the memory of this same -voice, young and tender, as she had heard it in the forge. But she -would not let him know that she had guessed. - -"Sir," she said with sudden, unaccountable shyness, "you have -overpowered my men, they are but loutish cowards, and you are heavily -armed. I am a defenceless woman.... How can I refuse if you command?" - -He took the pistols from his belt and laid them on the ground at her -feet. - -"Nay, fair lady!" he said, "there is no question of command. See! I am -unarmed now, and your men are free. Give them the word and I'll not -stir hand or foot till you have worked your will with me. You see, 'tis -I am at your mercy ... yet I still crave to hold your hand ... for one -moment ... in mine..." - -For one second more she hesitated: not because she was afraid, but -because there was a subtle sweetness in this moment of suspense, a -delicious feeling of expectancy for the joy that was to come. - -Then she gave him her hand. - -"Why! ... how it trembles," he said, "like some tiny frightened bird. -See how white it looks in my rough brown hand. You are not afraid?" - -"Afraid? ... oh, no! ... but ... but the hour is late ... I pray you let -me depart ... I must not tarry ... for so much depends upon my -journey.... I pray you let me go." - -"No, no! don't go," he pleaded, clinging to the little hand whose cool -touch had made his very senses reel, "don't go ... not just yet.... See -how glorious is the moon above those distant hills ... and the -mist-laden air which makes your hair glisten with a thousand diamonds, -whilst I, poor fool, holding your cool, white hand in mine, stand here -gazing on a vision that whispers to me of things which can never, never -be.... No! no, don't go just yet ... let the moon hide her light once -more behind the mist ... let the Heath sink into darkness ... let me -live in my dream one moment longer ... it will be dispelled all too -soon." - -He had spoken so low, she scarce could hear, but she could feel his hand -scorching hers with its fever-heat, and when he ceased speaking she -heard a sigh, like a sob, a sigh of bitter longing, of hopeless regret, -that made her heart ache with a new pain which was greater, more holy -than pity. - -A strange excitement seemed to pervade him. Madness was in his veins. -He longed to seize her, to lift her up on Jack o' Lantern's back and -gallop away with her over the Moor, far, far out beyond bracken and -heather, over those distant Tors, on, on to the mountains of the moon, -to the valley of the shadows, she lying passive in his arms, whilst he -looked for ever into the clear blue depths of her eyes. Perhaps she too -felt this excitement gradually creeping over her; she tried to withdraw -her hand, but he would not let it go. To her also there came the sense -of unreality, of a vision of dreamland, wherein no one dwelt but she and -this one man, where no sound came save that of his voice, rugged and -tender, which brought tears of joy and pity to her eyes. - -In the grass at her feet a cricket began to chirp, and suddenly from a -little distance there came the quaint, sweet sound of a shepherd's pipe, -playing an old-time rigadoon. - -"Hark!" she whispered. - -The sound came nearer and nearer: she loved to hear the faint, elusive -echo, the fairy accompaniment to her own dreamlike mood. - -"What a sweet tune," she murmured, as instinctively her foot began -tapping the measure on the ground. "I mind it well! How oft have I -danced to it beneath the Maypole!" - -"Will you then dance it with me to-night?" - -"Nay, sir ... you do but jest..." - -But his excitement was at fever-point now. The outlaw at least could -work his will upon this Heath, of which he alone was king. He could not -carry her away on Jack o' Lantern's back, but he could make her stay -with him a while longer, dance with him, here in the moonlight, her hand -in his, his arm at times round her waist in the mazes of the dance, her -cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, her breath panting, aye! for she should -feel too that reckless fire that scorched him. All the fierce, untamed -blood in him ran like molten lava in his veins. Aye! for one more brief -half-hour he--the lonely dweller on the Moor--the pariah, the outcast, -would taste the joys of the gods. - -"I was never more earnest in my life!" he vowed, with that gay, mad, -merry laugh of his, "a dance with you here in the moonlight! Aye! a -dance in the midst of my dreams!" - -"But indeed, indeed, sir," she pleaded, "the hour is late and my -business in London is very urgent." - -"Nay, ten minutes for this dance will not much delay your journey, and I -swear by your sweet eyes that after that you shall go unmolested." - -"But if I refuse?" - -"An you refuse," he said, bending the knee before her, and bowing humbly -at her feet, "I will entreat you on my knees..." - -"And if I still refuse?" she murmured. - -"Then will I uproot the trees, break the carriage that bears you away, -tear up the Heath and murder yon knaves! God in heaven only knows what -I would _not_ do an you refuse." - -"No, no, sir, I pray you..." she said, alarmed at his vehemence, -puzzled, fascinated, carried away by his wild, reckless mood and the -potent spell of the witching moon. "Nay! how can I refuse? ... I am in -your power ... and must do as you bid me.... An you really wish for a -dance..." - -She allowed him to lead her away to a short distance off the beaten -track, there, where a carpet of ling and grass, and walls of bramble and -gorse formed a ball-room fit for gods and goddesses to dance in. At the -further end of this clearing the quaint, shrivelled figure of Jock -Miggs, the shepherd, had just come into view. At a little distance to -the left, and close to the roadside, there was a small wooden shed, and -beyond it a pen, used by the shepherds as a shelter on rough nights when -tending their sheep on the Heath. - -For the moment the pen was empty, and Jock Miggs was evidently making -his way to the hut for a few hours' sleep, and had been playing his pipe -for the sake of company. - -"Aye! a dance here!" said Beau Brocade, "with the moon and stars to -light us, a shepherd to play the tune, and the sprites that haunt the -Heath for company! What ho! there! friend shepherd!" he shouted to -Miggs. - -The worthy Jock caught sight of the two figures standing in the centre -of the clearing, not twenty paces away from him. - -"Lud have mercy upon me!" he gasped. "Robbery! Violence! Murder!" - -"Nay, friend! only merry-making," quoth Beau Brocade, gaily. "We want -to dance upon this Heath, and you to play the tune for us." - -"Eh? what?" muttered the shepherd, in his vague, apologetic way, -"dancing at this hour o' the night?" - -"Aye!" - -"And me to play for a parcel of mad folk?" - -"Well said, honest shepherd! Let us all be mad to-night! but you shall -play for us, and here!--here is the wherewithal to set your pipe in -tune." - -He threw a heavy purse across to Miggs, who, still muttering something -about lunatics on the Heath, slowly stooped and picked it up. - -"Guineas!" he muttered, weighing it in his hand, "guineas, as I live! -Guineas for playing a dance tune. Nay, sir, you're mad, sure enough." - -"Wilt play the tune, shepherd?" shouted Beau Brocade in wild impatience. - -Jock Miggs shook his head with a determined air. - -"Nay! your madness is nought to me. You've paid for a tune, and you -shall have the tune. But, Lordy! Lordy! these be 'mazing times." - -He settled himself down on a clump of grass-covered earth, and stolidly -began piping the same old-time rigadoon. These were a pair of lunatics, -for sure, but since the gentleman had paid for this extraordinary -pleasure, 'twas not for a poor shepherd to refuse to earn a few honest -guineas. - -Beau Brocade bowed to his lady with all the courtly grace of a town -gallant. - -"Madam! your most humble, and most obedient servant." - -As in a dream Patience began to tread the measure. It was all so -strange, so unreal! surely this was a dream, and she would wake anon. - -She turned and twisted in the mazes of the dance, gradually the -intoxication of it all had reached her brain; she seemed to see round -her in the grass pixie faces gazing curiously upon her. All the -harebells seemed to tinkle, the shepherd's pipe sounded like fairy -bells. Through the holes in the black mask she could see a pair of -burning eyes watching her as if entranced. - -She felt like a creature of some other world, a witch mayhap, dancing a -wild saraband with this man, her lord and master, a mad, merry sprite -who had arranged this moonlight Sabbath. - -Her cheeks began to glow, her eyes were sparkling with the joy of this -dance. Her breath came panting through her parted lips. - -Aye! mad were they both! what else? Their madness was the intoxication -which man alone can feel when his joy equals that of the gods! Quicker, -shepherd! quicker! let thy pipe wake all the fairy echoes of this -mystic, ghostlike Moor! Let all the ghouls and gnomes come running -hither, let the stars pale with envy, let fairies and sprites clap their -hands for joy, since one man in all this world was happier than all the -spirits in heaven! - -How long it lasted neither of them could tell. The honey-coloured moon -lighted them all the while, the blue mist wrapped them as in a mystic -veil. Still they danced on; at times she almost lay in his arms, hot, -panting, yet never weary, then she would slip away, and with eyes aglow, -cheeks in rosy flame, beckon to him, evade, advance, then once more put -her hand in his and madden him with the touch. - -Oh! that heaven-born hour! why did it ever cease? - -A wild shriek, twice repeated, brought them both to a standstill. - -She, with heart beating, and hand pressed to her panting bosom, was -unable to stir. Whilst the excitement kept her up she had danced, but -now, with that piercing shriek, the dream had vanished and she was back -on earth once more. - -"What was that?" - -Thomas and Timothy, attracted by the strange spectacle, had gradually -crept up to the clearing, and through a clump of gorse and bracken had -been watching the weird, midnight dance. On the further side, and close -to Jock Miggs, John Stich had been standing in the shadow of a thorn -bush. He had been running all the way, ever since he heard the two -pistol-shots. Amazed at the strange sight that met his honest eyes, he -had not dared to interfere. Perhaps his honest faithful heart felt with, -even if it did not altogether comprehend, the wayward, half-crazy mood -of his friend. - -Betty alone, terrified and not a little sulky, had remained in the -coach. It was her shriek that roused the spectators and performers of -this phantasy on the Heath. - -"My lady! my lady!" screamed Betty once more at the top of her voice. - -Then, all of a sudden, Patience understood. Fairyland had indeed -vanished. The awful reality came upon her with appalling cruelty. - -"My letters!" she gasped, and started running towards the coach. - -But already Jack Bathurst had bounded across the clearing, closely -followed by John Stich. Patience's cry of mad, terror-stricken appeal -had gone straight to his brain, and dissipated in the fraction of a -second the reckless excitement of the past hour. - -The wild creature of one moment's wayward mood was in that same fraction -of time re-transformed into the cool and daring dweller of the Moor, on -whose head the law had set a price, and who in revenge had made every -law his slave. - -His keen, quick eye had already sighted the smith. - -"After me, John!" he commanded, "and run for your life." - -When the two men had fought their way through the clumps of gorse and -bracken which screened the clearing from the road, they were just in -time to see a man quickly mounting a dark brown horse, which stood some -twenty yards in front of the coach. - -The carriage door nearest to them was open, and poor Mistress Betty lay -on the ground close beside it, still screaming at the top of her voice. - -With one bound Beau Brocade had reached Jack o' Lantern, who, accustomed -to his unfettered life on the Heath, had quietly roamed about at will, -patiently waiting for his master's call. The young man was unarmed, -since he had placed his pistols awhile ago at Patience's feet, but Jack -o' Lantern was swift-footed as the deer, and would overtake any strange -horseman easily. - -Beau Brocade's hand was on his horse's bridle and there were barely a -few yards between him and the mysterious horseman, who was preparing to -gallop away, when the latter turned, and suddenly pointing a pistol at -his pursuer, fired two shots in rapid succession. - -The young man did not stop at once. He clutched Jack o' Lantern's -bridle and tried to mount, but he staggered and almost fell. - -"After him, John," he cried in a hoarse voice, as, staggering once more, -he fell upon one knee. "After him! quick! take Jack o' Lantern, don't -mind me!" - -John had no need to be told twice. He seized the horse's bridle and -swung himself into the saddle as quickly as he could. - -But these few seconds had given the horseman a sufficient start. -Although the moon was bright the mist was thick, and the bracken and -thorn bushes very dense on the other side of the road. Already he had -disappeared from view, and John's ears and eyes were not so keen as -those of Beau Brocade, the highwayman, the wounded monarch of the Heath. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - HIS OATH - - -Patience's first thought as soon as she reached the road was for Betty; -she helped the poor girl to her feet and tried to get some coherent -explanation from her. - -"I was listening to the tune, my lady, and leaning my head out of the -window," moaned Mistress Betty, who was more frightened than hurt, "when -suddenly the carriage door was torn open, I was dragged out and left -screaming on the ground.... That's all I know." - -But one glance at the interior of the coach had revealed the whole awful -truth. It had been ransacked, and the receptacle beneath the cushions, -where had lain the all-important letters, was now obviously empty. - -"The letters! oh, the letters!" moaned Patience in an agony of misery -and remorse. "Philip, my dear, dear one, you entrusted your precious -life in my hands, and I have proved unworthy of the trust." - -Her spirit wholly broken by the agony of this cruel thought, she cowered -on the step of the carriage, her head buried in her hands, in a passion -of heart-broken tears. - -"My lady..." - -She looked down, and by the dim light of the moon she saw a figure on -its knees, dragging itself with a visibly painful effort slowly towards -her. - -In a moment she was on her feet, tall, haughty, a world of scorn in her -eyes; she looked down with horror at the prostrate figure before her. - -"Nay, sir," she said with icy contempt, "an you have a spark of honour -left in you, take off that mask, let me at least see who you are." - -The agony of shame was more than she could bear. She who had deemed -herself so proud, so strong, that she should have been thus fooled, -duped, tricked, and by this man! this thief! this low class robber who -had dared to touch her hand! All the pride of race and caste rose in -revolt within her. Who was he that he should dare to have spoken to her -as he did? Her cheeks glowed with shame at the memory of that voice -which she had loved to hear, the tender accent in it, and oh! she had -been his plaything, his tool, for this infamous trick which had placed -her dear, dear brother's life in peril worse than before. - -Meekly he had obeyed her, his own proud spirit bent before her grief. -His face--ashy pale now and drawn with pain and weakness--looked up in -mute appeal for forgiveness. - -"A poor wretch," he murmured feebly, "whose mad and foolish whim..." - -But she turned from him in bitter loathing, drawing herself up to her -full height, trying by every means in her power to show the contempt -which she felt for him. So absorbed was she in her grief and -humiliation, in her agony of remorse for her broken trust, that she did -not realise that he was hurt, and fainting with loss of blood. - -"You ... you..." she murmured with horror and contempt. "Nay! I pray -you do not speak to me.... You ... you have duped and tricked me, and I -... I ... Oh!" she added with a wealth of bitter reproach, "what wrong -had I or my dear brother done to you that you should wish to do him so -much harm? What price had his enemies set upon his head that you should -_sell_ it to them?" - -He tried to interrupt her, for her words hurt him ten thousand times -more than the wound in his shoulder: with almost superhuman effort he -dragged himself to his feet, clinging to the bracken to hold himself -upright. He would not let her see how she made him suffer. She! his -beautiful white rose, whom unwittingly he had, it seemed, so grievously -wronged. Her mind was distraught, she did not understand, and oh! it -was impossible that she _could_ realise the cruelty of her words, more -hard to endure than any torture the fiendish brain of man could devise. - -"I'd have given you gold," she continued, whilst heavy sobs choked the -voice in her throat, "if 'twas gold you wanted.... Here is the purse -you did not take just now! Two hundred guineas for you, sir, an you -bring me back those letters!" - -And with a last gesture of infinite scorn she threw the purse on the -ground before him. - -A cry escaped him then: the terrible, heart-rending cry of the wild -beast wounded unto death. But it was momentary; that great love he bore -her helped him to understand. Love is never selfish--always kind. Love -_always_ understands. - -He could scarcely speak now, and the seconds were very precious, but -with infinite gentleness he contrived to murmur faintly,-- - -"Madam! I swear by those sweet lips of yours now turned in anger -against me that you do me grievous wrong. My fault, alas! is great! I -cannot deny it, since in this short, mad hour of the dance my eyes were -blind and mine ears deaf to all save to your own dear presence." - -"Aye! 'twas a clever trick," she retorted, lashing herself to scorn, -wilfully deaf to the charm of that faint voice, turning away from the -tender appeal of his eyes: "a trick from beginning to end! Your -chivalry at the forge! your _role_ of gallant gentleman of the road! the -while you plotted with a boon companion to rob me of the very letters -that would have saved my brother's life." - -"Letters? ... that would have saved your brother's life? ... What -letters?..." - -"Nay, sir! I pray you fool me no further. Heaven only knows how you -learnt our secret, for I'll vouch that John Stich was no traitor. Those -letters were stolen, sir, by your accomplice, whilst you tricked me into -this dance." - -He pulled himself together with a vigorous effort of will, forcing -himself to speak quietly and firmly, conquering the faintness and -dizziness which was rapidly overpowering him. - -"Madam!" he said gently, "dare I hope that you will believe me when I -say that I know naught of those letters? ... John Stich, as you know, is -loyal and true ... not even to me would he have revealed your secret ... -nay, more! ... it seems that I too have been tricked to further a -villain's ends. Will you not try and believe that had I known what -those letters were I would have guarded them, for your sweet sake, with -my last dying breath?" - -She did not reply: for the moment she could not, for her tears choked -her, and there was the magic of that voice which she could not resist. -Still she would not look at him. - -"Sir!" she said a little more calmly, "Heaven has given you a gentle -voice, and the power of tender words, with which to cajole women. I -would wish to believe you, but..." - -She was interrupted by the sound of voices, those of Thomas and Timothy, -her men, who had kept a lookout for John Stich. The next moment the -smith himself, breathless and panting, came into view. He had ridden -hard, for Jack o' Lantern's flanks were dripping with sweat, but there -was a look of grave disappointment on the honest man's face. - -"Well?" queried Beau Brocade, excitedly, as soon as John had dismounted. - -"I'm feared that I've lost the scoundrel's track," muttered John, -ruefully. - -"No?" - -"At first I was in hot pursuit, he galloping towards Brassington; -suddenly he seemed to draw rein, and the next moment a riderless horse -came tearing past me, and then disappeared in the direction of Aldwark." - -"A riderless horse?" - -"Aye! I thought at first that maybe he'd been thrown; I scoured the -Heath for half a mile around, but ... the mist was so thick in the -hollow, and there was not a sound.... I'd have needed a blood-hound to -track the rascal down." - -An exclamation of intense disappointment escaped from the lips of Lady -Patience and of Beau Brocade. - -"Do you know who it was, John?" queried the latter. - -"No doubt of that, Captain. It was Sir Humphrey Challoner right -enough." - -"Sir Humphrey Challoner!" cried Patience, in accents of hopeless -despair, "the man who covets my fortune now holds my brother's life in -the hollow of his hand." - -Excitedly, defiantly, she once more turned to Beau Brocade. - -"Nay, sir," she said, "an you wish me to believe that you had no part in -this villainy, get those letters back for me from Sir Humphrey -Challoner!" - -He drew himself up to his full height, his pride at least was equal to -her own. - -"Madam! I swear to you..." he began. He staggered and would have -fallen, but faithful Stich was nigh, and caught him in his arms. - -"You are hurt, Captain?" he whispered, a world of anxiety in his kindly -eyes. - -"Nay! nay!" murmured Beau Brocade, faintly, "'tis nothing! ... help me -up, John! ... I have something to say ... and must say it ... standing!" - -But Nature at last would have her will with him, the wild, brave spirit -that had kept him up all this while was like to break at last. He fell -back dizzy and faint against faithful John's stout breast. - -Then only did she understand and realise. She saw his young face, once -so merry and boyish, now pale with a hue almost of death; she saw his -once laughing eyes now dimmed with the keenness of his suffering. Her -woman's heart went out to him, she loathed herself for her cruelty, her -heart, overburdened with grief, nearly broke at the thought of what she -had done. - -"You are hurt, sir," she said, as she bent over him, her eyes swimming -in tears, "and I ... I knew it not." - -The spell of her voice brought his wandering spirit back to earth and to -her. - -"Aye, hurt, sweet dream!" he murmured feebly, "deeply wounded by those -dear lips, which spoke such cruel words; but for the rest 'tis naught. -See!" he added, trying to raise himself and stretching a yearning hand -towards her, "the moon has hid her face behind that veil of mist ... and -I can no longer see the glory of your hair! ... my eyes are dim, or is -it that the Heath is dark? ... I would fain see your blue eyes once -again.... By the tender memory of my dream born this autumn afternoon, -I swear, sweet lady, that your brother's life shall be safe! ... Whilst -I have one drop of blood left in my veins, I will protect him." - -With trembling hand he sought the white rose which still lay close to -her breast: she allowed him to take it, and he pressed it to his lips. - -Then, with a final effort he drew himself up once more, and said loudly -and clearly,-- - -"By this dear token I swear that I will get those letters back for you -before the sun has risen twice o'er our green-clad hills." - -"Sir ... I..." - -"Tell me but once that you believe me ... and I will have the strength -that moves the mountains." - -"I believe you, sir," she said simply. "I believe you absolutely." - -"Then place your dear hand in mine," he whispered, "and trust in me." - -And the last thought of which he was conscious was of her cool, white -fingers grasping his fevered hand. Then the poor aching head fell back -on John's shoulder, the burning eyes were closed, kindly Nature had -taken the outlaw to her breast and spread her beneficent mantle of -oblivion over his weary senses at last. - - - - - PART III - - BRASSINGTON - - - - CHAPTER XX - - A THRILLING NARRATIVE - - -Mr Inch, beadle of the parish of Brassington, was altogether in his -element. - -Dressed in his gold-laced coat, bob-tail wig and three-cornered hat, his -fine calves encased in the whitest of cotton stockings, his buckled -shoes veritable mirrors of shiny brilliancy, he was standing, wand of -office in hand, outside the door of the tiny Court House, where Colonel -West, Squire of Brassington, was sitting in judgment on the poachers and -footpads of the neighbourhood. - -Before Mr Inch stood no less a person than Master Mittachip, -attorney-at-law. Master Mittachip desired to speak with Squire West, -and the pompous beadle was in the proud position of standing between -this presumptuous desire and the supreme Majesty of the Law. - -"Them's my orders, sir," he said, with all the solemnity which this -extraordinary event demanded. "Them's my orders. Squire West's own -orders. 'Inch,' he says to me--my name being Jeremiah Inch, sir--'Inch,' -he says, 'the odours which perambulate the court-room'--and mind ye, -sir, he didn't use such polite language either--'the odours is more than -I can endurate this hot morning!' As a matter of fact, sir, truth -compellates me to state that Squire West's own words were: 'Inch, this -room stinks like hell! too many sweating yokels about!' Then he gave me -his orders: 'The room is too full as it is, don't admit anyone else, on -any pretext or cause whatsoever.'" - -Master Mittachip had made various misguided efforts to interrupt Mr -Inch's wonderful flow of eloquence. It was only when the worthy beadle -paused to take breath, that the attorney got in a word edgewise. - -"Harkee, my good man..." he began impatiently. - -"I am extra-ordinarily grieved, sir," interrupted Master Inch, who had -not nearly finished, "taking into consideration that I am somewhat -dubersome, whether what his Honour said about the odours could apply -individually to you, but orders is orders, sir, and the Squire as a -legal luminosity must be obeyed in all things." - -Mr Inch heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. It was not often that he -had the opportunity of showing off his marvellous eloquence and -wonderful flow of language before so distinguished a gentleman as Master -Mittachip, attorney-at-law. But the latter seemed not to appreciate the -elegance of the worthy beadle's diction; on the contrary, he had -throughout shown signs of the greatest impatience, and now, directly Mr -Inch heaved this one sigh, Master Mittachip produced a silver -half-crown, and toying with it, in apparent indifference, said -significantly,-- - -"I am sure, friend Beadle, that if you were to acquaint Squire West that -his Honour, Sir Humphrey Challoner, desired to speak with him..." - -Mr Inch stroked his fat, clean-shaven chin, and eyed the silver -half-crown with an anxious air. - -"Ah! perhaps!" he suggested with as much dignity as the new circumstance -allowed, "perhaps if I did so far contravene my orders..." - -"I feel sure that Sir Humphrey would see fit to reward you," suggested -the attorney, still idly fingering that tempting half-crown. - -But Master Inch was still "dubersome." - -"But then, you understand," he said, "it is against the regulations that -I should vacuate my post until after the sitting is over ... so..." - -"Sir Humphrey Challoner is partaking of breakfast at the Royal George, -Master Inch, he would wish Squire West to know that he'll attend on him -here in half an hour." - -Master Inch closed one eye, and with the other keenly watched Master -Mittachip's movements. The attorney turned the half-crown over in his -lean hand once or twice, then he made as if he would put it back in his -pocket. - -This decided the beadle. - -"I'll go and reconnoitre-ate," he said, "and perhaps I can despatch a -menial to impart to the Squire, Sir Humphrey's wishes and cognomen." - -Thus the majestic beadle felt that his dignity had not been impaired. -With a magnificent turn of his portly person, and an imposing flourish -of his wand of office, he disappeared within the precincts of the Court. - -Master Mittachip slipped the half-crown back in his pocket, and did not -wait for the beadle's return. He was quite satisfied that Sir Humphrey's -wishes would be acceded to. He turned his back on the Court House and -slowly crossed the green. - -Opposite to him was the Royal George, where he and Master Duffy had put -up for the night. In the small hours of the morning he had been aroused -from peaceful slumbers by a great disturbance at the inn. Sir Humphrey -Challoner, booted and spurred, but alone, on foot, and covered with mud, -was peremptorily demanding admittance. - -Since then Master Mittachip had had an interview with his employer, -wherein his Honour had expressed the desire to speak with Squire West -after he, himself, had partaken of late breakfast. That interview had -been a very brief one, but it had sufficed to show to the lean attorney -that Sir Humphrey's temper was none of the best this morning. - -His Honour had desired Master Mittachip's presence again, and the latter -was now making his way slowly back to the Royal George, his knees -quaking under him, his throat dry, and his tongue parched with terror. -Sir Humphrey Challoner was not pleasant to deal with when his temper was -up. - -The attorney found his Honour installed at breakfast in the private -parlour of the inn, and consuming large mugs full of ale and several -rashers of fried bacon. - -"Well?" queried Sir Humphrey, impatiently, as soon as the attorney's -lean, bird-like face appeared in the doorway. - -"I sent word to his Honour, Squire West," explained the latter, coming -forward timidly, "saying that you would wish to see him at the Court -House in half an hour. And, unless your Honour would wish me to speak -to the Squire for you..." - -"No!" rejoined his Honour, curtly. "'Sdeath! don't stand there -fidgeting before me," he added. "Sit down!" - -Master Mittachip meekly obeyed. He selected the straightest chair in -the room, placed it as far away from his Honour as he could, and sat -down on the extreme edge of it. - -"Well! you lean-faced coward," began his Honour, whose temper did not -seem to have improved after his substantial breakfast, "you allowed -yourself to be robbed of my money last night, eh?" - -Thus much Sir Humphrey knew already, for his first inquiry on meeting -Mittachip at the inn had been after his rents. Since then the attorney -had had half an hour in which to reflect on what he would say when his -Honour once more broached the subject. Therefore he began to protest -with a certain degree of assurance. - -"On my honour, Sir Humphrey, you misjudge me," he said deliberately. -"As my clerk and I passed the loneliest spot on the Heath, and without -any previous warning, two masked men leapt into the path in front of us, -and presented pistols. A third man called to us to stand." - -Here Master Mittachip made an effective pause, the better to watch the -impression which his narrative was making on his employer. The latter -was quietly picking his teeth, and merely remarked quietly,-- - -"Well? and what did you do?" - -Thus encouraged Mittachip waxed more bold. - -"In a flash I drew a pistol," he continued glibly, "and so did Duffy ... -for I must say he bore himself bravely. We both fired and my ball -knocked the hat off the fellow nearest to me, but Master Duffy's ball -unfortunately missed. I was drawing my other pistol, determined to make -a desperate fight, and I believe Duffy did as much.... I was amazed -that the fellows did not fire upon us in return..." - -He was distinctly warming up to his subject. But here he was interrupted -by a loud guffaw. Sir Humphrey was evidently vastly amused at the -thrilling tale, and his boisterous laugh went echoing along the -blackened rafter of the old village inn. - -"Odd's my life! 'tis perfect! marvellous, I call it! And tell me, -Master Mittachip," added his Honour, whose eyes were streaming and whose -sides were shaking with laughter, "tell me, why did they not fire? Eh?" - -From past experience Master Mittachip should have known that when Sir -Humphrey Challoner laughed his loudest, then was he mostly to be -dreaded. Yet in this instance the attorney's delight at his own -realistic story drowned the wiser counsels of prudence. He took his -Honour's hilarity as a compliment to his own valour, and continued -proudly,-- - -"The reason was not far to seek, for at that very moment we were both -seized upon from behind by two big fellows. Then all five of them fell -upon us and dragged us aside into the darkness; they tied scarves about -our mouths, so that we could not cry out.... Aye! and had some -difficulty in doing it, for believe me, Sir Humphrey, I fought like mad! -Then they rifled us of everything ... despoiled us absolutely..." - -At this point it struck Master Mittachip that his Honour's continued -gaiety was somewhat out of place. The narrative had become thrilling -surely, exciting and blood-curdling too, and yet Sir Humphrey was -laughing more lustily than ever. - -"Go on, man! go on," he gasped between his paroxysms of merriment. -"Odd's fish! but 'tis the best story I've heard for many a day!" - -"I will swear to the truth o' it in any court of law," protested the -attorney with somewhat less assurance. "The fifth man was Beau Brocade. -I heard the others address him so, while I was lying gagged and bound." - -"Aye! you would _lie_ anywhere," commented his Honour, "gagged and bound -or not." - -"From your observation, Sir Humphrey, I gather that you somewhat ... er -... doubt my story!" murmured Master Mittachip in a quavering voice. - -"Doubt it, man? ... doubt it?" laughed his Honour, holding his sides, -"nay! how can I doubt it? I saw it all..." - -"You, Sir Humphrey?" - -"I was there, man, on the Heath. I saw it all ... your vigorous -defence, your noble valour, your ... your..." - -Master Mittachip's sallow face had assumed a parchment-like hue. He -passed his dry tongue over his parched lips, great drops of moisture -appeared beneath his wig. That his fears were not unfounded was -presently proved by Sir Humphrey's sudden change of manner. - -The hilarious laugh died down in his Honour's throat, an ugly frown -gathered above his deep-set eyes, and with a violent curse he brought -his heavy fist down crashing upon the table. - -"And now, you lying, lumbering poltroon, where's my money?" - -"B ... b ... but, Sir Humphrey..." stammered the attorney, now pallid -with terror. - -"There's no 'but' about it. You collected some rents for me, thirty -guineas in all, that money must lie to my account in the bank at -Wirksworth to-morrow, or by G---- I'll have you clapped in jail like the -thief that you are." - -"B ... b ... but, your Honour..." - -"Silence! I've said my last word. If that money is not in the bank by -noon to-morrow, I'll denounce you to the Wirksworth magistrate as a -fraudulent agent. Now hold your tongue about that. I've said my last -word. The rest is your affair, not mine. I've more important matters to -think on." - -Master Mittachip, half dead with fear, dared not offer further argument -or pleading. He knew his employer well enough to realise that his -honour meant every word he said, and that he himself had nothing more to -hope for in the matter of the money. The deficiency extracted from him -by that rascal Beau Brocade would have to be made good somehow, and -Master Mittachip bethought him ruefully of his own savings, made up of -sundry little commissions extorted from his Honour's tenants. - -No wonder the attorney felt none too kindly disposed towards the -highwayman. He watched Sir Humphrey's face as a hungry dog does his -master's, and noted with growing satisfaction that his Honour's anger -was cooling down gradually, and giving place to harder and more cruel -determination. As he watched, the look of terror died out of his bony, -sallow face, and his pale, watery eyes began to twinkle with keen and -vengeful malice. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - MASTER MITTACHIP'S IDEA - - -He waited a little while, and gradually a smile of the deepest -satisfaction spread over his bird-like countenance; he rubbed his meagre -knees up and down with his thin hands, in obvious delight, and as soon -as he saw his opportunity, he remarked slily,-- - -"An your Honour was on the Heath last night, you can help me testify to -highway robbery before Squire West. There are plenty of soldiers in -this village. His Honour'll have out a posse or two; the rascal can't -escape hanging this time." - -Sir Humphrey's florid, sensual face suddenly paled with a curious -intensity of hatred. - -"Aye! he shall hang sure enough," he muttered, with a loud oath. - -He dragged a chair forward, facing Mittachip, and sat astride on it, -drumming a devil's tattoo on the back. - -"Listen here, you old scarecrow," he said more quietly, "for I've not -done with you yet. You don't understand, I suppose, what my presence -here in Brassington means?" - -"I confess that I am somewhat puzzled, your Honour," replied the -attorney, meekly. "I remarked on it to Master Duffy, just before he -started off for Wirksworth this morning. But he could offer no -suggestion." - -"Odd's life, man! couldn't you guess that having made my proposal to -that rascally highwayman I could not rest at Aldwark unless I saw him -carry it through?" - -"Ah?" - -"I got a horse at the Moorhen, and at nightfall I rode out on the Heath. -I feared to lose my way on the bridle path, and moreover, I wished to -keep her ladyship's coach in view, so I kept to the road. It must have -been close on midnight when I sighted it at last. It was at a -standstill in the midst of a quagmire, and as I drew near I could see -neither driver on the box, nor groom at the horses' heads." - -"Well?" - -"Well! that's all! there was a wench inside the coach; I threw her out -and searched for the letters; I found them! That rascally highwayman -had played me false. Some distance from the road I spied him dancing a -rigadoon in the moonlight with her ladyship, whilst her men, the dolts, -were watching the spectacle! Ha! ha! ha! 'twas a fine sight too, I tell -you! So now the sooner I get that chivalrous highwayman hanged, the -better I shall like it." - -"Then ... am I to understand that your Honour has the letters?" - -"Aye! I have the letters right enough!" said Sir Humphrey, with an oath -between his clenched teeth, "but I fear me her ladyship has cajoled the -rogue into her service. Else why this dance? I did not know what to -make of it. Madness, surely, or she never would have left the letters -unprotected. He bewitched her mayhap, and the devil, his master, lent -him a helping hand. I'll see him hang, I tell you.... Hang.... Hang!" - -Master Mittachip's attenuated frame quaked with terror. There was so -much hatred, so much lust for revenge in Sir Humphrey's half-choked -voice, that instinctively the attorney cowered, as before some great and -evil thing which he only half understood. After awhile Sir Humphrey -managed to control himself. He was ashamed of having allowed his agent -this one peep into the darkness of his soul. His love for Patience, -though brutish and grasping, was as strong as his sensuous nature was -capable of: his jealousy and hatred had been aroused by the strange -scene he had witnessed on the Heath, and he was as conscious now of the -longing for revenge, as of the desire to possess himself of Lady -Patience and her fortune. - -"'Sdeath!" he said more calmly, "Beau Brocade and that rascal John Stich -were after me in a trice, and they'd have had the letters back from me, -had I not put a bullet into the damned thief!" - -"And wounded him, your Honour?" queried Mittachip, eagerly. - -"Nay! I could not wait to see! but I hoped I had killed him, for 'twas -John Stich who rode after me, fortunately. He was too big a fool to do -me any harm and I quickly made him lose my track." - -"And you've destroyed the letters, Sir Humphrey?" - -"Destroyed them, you fool? Nay, it would ill suit my purpose if -Stretton were to die. Can't you see that _now_," he said excitedly, -"with those letters in my hand, I can force Lady Patience's acceptance -of my suit? While her brother's life hangs in the balance I can offer -her the letters, on condition that she consent to marry me, and threaten -to destroy them if she refuse!" - -"Aye! aye!" murmured the attorney, "'twere a powerful argument!" - -"And remember," added his Honour, significantly, "there'll be two -hundred guineas for you the day that I wed Lady Patience. That is, _if_ -you render me useful assistance to the end." - -"Two hundred guineas!!! Good lack, Sir Humphrey, I hope you've got -those letters safe!" - -"Aye! safe enough for the present!" - -"About your person?" - -"Nay! you idiot! about my person? With so cunning a rascal as Beau -Brocade at my heels!" - -"Then in your valise, Sir Humphrey?" - -"What? in a strange inn? Think you the fellow would be above breaking -into my room? How do I know that mine host is not one of his boon -companions? The rascal has many friends hereabouts." - -"B ... b ... but what have you done with them, Sir Humphrey?" queried -the attorney, in despair. - -"In your ear, Master Mittachip," quoth his Honour, instinctively -lowering his voice, lest the walls of the old inn had ears. "I thought -the best plan was to hide the letters there, where Lady Patience and her -chivalrous highwayman would least expect to find them." - -"How so, good Sir Humphrey?" - -"I was hard pressed, mind you, and had but a few seconds in which to -make up my mind. I dismounted, then lashed my horse into a panic. As I -expected he made straight for his own stables, at anyrate, he galloped -off like mad in the direction of Aldwark, whilst I remained cowering in -the dense scrub, grateful for the mist, which was very dense in the -hollow. There I remained hidden for about half an hour, until all sound -died away on the Heath. What happened to that damned highwayman or to -John Stich I know not, but I did not feel that the letters were safe -whilst they were about my person. I knew that I was some distance from -this village, and still further from Aldwark, and feared that I should -be pursued and overtaken. At any rate, I crept out of my hiding-place -and presently found myself close to a wooden hut, not far from the -roadside: and there, underneath some bramble and thorny stuff, I hid the -letters well out of sight." - -"Oh! but they won't be safe there, Sir Humphrey," moaned Mittachip, who -seemed to see the golden vision of two hundred guineas vanishing before -his eyes. "Think of it. Any moment they might be unearthed by some -dolt of a shepherd!" - -"'Sdeath! I know that, you fool! They're in a dry place now, but I -only mean them to remain there until you can take them to your own house -at Wirksworth, and put them in your strong room till I have need of -them." - -But this suggestion so alarmed Master Mittachip that he lost his balance -and nearly fell off the edge of his chair. - -"I, Sir Humphrey? .... I ... cross that lonely Heath again? ... and with -those letters about my person?..." - -"Tush, man! the footpads wouldn't take letters from you, and Beau -Brocade will be keeping an eye on me, and wouldn't again molest you..." - -"Aye! but he knows I enjoy the honour of your confidence, good Sir -Humphrey! Believe me, the letters would not be safe with me." - -"Adsbud!" said his Honour, firmly, "then I'll have to find someone else -to take care of those letters for me, and," he added significantly, "to -earn the two hundred guineas." - -Master Mittachip gave an anxious gasp. That two hundred guineas!!! the -ultimate ambition of his sordid, miserable existence! No! he would not -miss that! ... and yet he dreaded the Heath ... and was in terror of -Beau Brocade ... and he dreaded his Honour's anger ten thousand times -more than either: that anger would be terrible if, having taken charge -of the letters, he should be robbed of them. - -The alternative was an awful one! He racked his tortuous brain for a -likely issue. Sir Humphrey had risen, kicked his chair to one side, and -made as if he would go. - -"Now, harkee, friend Mittachip," he said firmly, "I want those letters -placed somewhere in absolute safety, where neither Lady Patience's -influence nor her chivalrous highwayman could possibly get at them. If -you find a way and means of doing this for me, the two hundred guineas -are yours. But if I have to manage this business myself, if I have to -take the almost certain risk of being robbed of the letters, if I carry -them about my own person, then you shall not get another shilling from -me. Now you can think this matter over. I'll across to speak to Squire -West, and see if I can't get that rascally highwayman captured and -clapped into jail before the day is done." - -He took up his hat, and threw his coat over his arm. The situation was -getting desperate. - -Then suddenly Master Mittachip had an idea. - -"I have it, Sir Humphrey," he cried excitedly. "I have it! A perfectly -safe way of conveying those letters to my strong room at Wirksworth!" - -"Let's have it, then." - -"I have bought some sheep of a farmer from over Aldwark way, for a -client at Wirksworth. Here," he added, pulling a paper out of his -pocket and handing it up to Sir Humphrey, "is the receipt and tally for -them. Jock Miggs--Master Crabtree's shepherd--is taking the sheep to -the town to-day. He'll most likely put up for the night on the Heath." - -"Well?" queried Sir Humphrey. - -"Well! Jock Miggs can neither read nor write." - -"Of course not." - -"Let us send _him_ to Wirksworth and tell him to leave the packet of -letters at my house in charge of my clerk, Master Duffy, who will put it -in the strong room until you want them. Duffy started for Wirksworth at -daybreak this morning, and should be there by nightfall." - -"Pshaw, man! would you have me trust such valuable letters to a fool of -a shepherd?" - -"Nay, Sir Humphrey, but that is our safeguard. Beau Brocade never -touches the poor or the peasantry, and certainly would never suspect -Jock Miggs of being in your Honour's confidence, whilst the ordinary -footpads would take no count of him. He is worth neither powder nor -shot." - -"That's true enough!" - -"I should tell Miggs that the papers are accounts for the sheep, and -promise him a silver crown if he delivers them safely at my door. We -can put the letters in a sealed packet; no one would ever suspect him." - -There was silence in the inn parlour for awhile. His Honour stood with -legs apart, opposite the tiny leaded window, gazing out into vacancy, -whilst Master Mittachip fixed his eyes meditatively on the broad back of -his noble patron. What a deal depended on what was going on at the -present moment in Sir Humphrey's active brain. - -Suddenly his Honour turned on his heel. - -"Odd's fish, Master Mittachip," he said, "but your plan is none so bad -after all." - -The attorney heaved a deep sigh of relief, and began mopping his beady -forehead. The tension had been acute. This lengthy, agitating -interview had been extremely trying. So much hung in the balance, and -so much had depended upon that very uncertain quantity, his Honour's -temper. But now the worst was over. Sir Humphrey was a man of -determination, who never changed his mind once that mind was made up, -and who carried any undertaking through with set purpose and unflinching -will. - -"Well! and when can I see that shepherd you speak of?" he asked. - -"If your Honour would ride over on the Heath with me this afternoon," -suggested the attorney, "I doubt not but we should come across Jock -Miggs and his sheep, and in any case he would be at the hut by -nightfall." - -"Very good!" rejoined his Honour. "Do you see that a couple of horses -be ready for us. We can start as soon as I have spoken with Squire West -and laid my information against that d--d Beau Brocade. With a posse of -soldiers at his heels he's less likely to worry us, eh, old scarecrow?" - -"We shall not be safe, your Honour," assented worthy Master Mittachip, -"until the rascal is dangling six feet above the ground. In the -meanwhile," he added, seeing that Sir Humphrey was making for the door, -"your Honour will be pleased to give me back that receipt and tally for -the sheep I showed you just now." - -But already his Honour was hurrying down the narrow passage, eager to -get through the business that would lay his enemy by the heels, and -render him safe in the possession of the important letters which were to -secure him Lady Patience's hand and fortune. - -"All right!" he shouted back lustily, "it's safe enough in my pocket. -I'll give it you back on my return." - -Left alone in the dingy, black-raftered parlour, Master Mittachip sat -pondering for awhile, his pale, watery eyes blinking at times with the -intensity of his satisfaction. Now for a little good luck--and he had -no cause to fear the reverse--and that glorious vision of two hundred -golden guineas would become a splendid reality. The advice he had given -Sir Humphrey was undoubtedly the safest which he could offer. Beau -Brocade, even with a posse of soldiers at his heels, was still a potent -personality on the Heath, and it certainly looked as if her ladyship had -cajoled him into her service. No one knew really who his friends and -accomplices were: on and about Brassing Moor he could reckon on the help -of most of the poorer villagers. - -But Jock Miggs at any rate was safe, alike from the daring highwayman -and the more humble footpad. The former would not suspect him, and the -latter would leave a poor shepherd severely alone. The footpath from the -hut by the roadside to the town of Wirksworth was but a matter of three -or four miles, and for a silver crown the shepherd would be ready enough -to take a sealed packet to the house of Master Mittachip in Fulsome -Street. - -Yes! it was all going to be for the best, in this best possible world, -and as Master Mittachip thought over it all, he rubbed his thin, -claw-like hands contentedly together. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - AN INTERLUDE - - -The Packhorse Inn, lower down the village, was not nearly so frequented -as was the Royal George. Its meagre, dilapidated appearance frightened -most customers away. A few yokels only patronised it to the extent of -sipping their small ale there, in the parlour when it was wet, or -outside the porch when it was fine. - -The few--very few--travellers, whom accident mostly brought to -Brassington, invariably preferred the more solid, substantial inn on the -green, but when it was a question of finding safe shelter for his -wounded friend, John Stich unhesitatingly chose the Packhorse. He had -improvised a rough kind of stretcher, with the help of the cushions from -Lady Patience's coach, and on this, with the aid of Timothy the groom, -he had carried Bathurst all the way across two miles of Heath into -Brassington. The march had been terribly wearisome: the wounded man, -fevered with past excitement, had become light-headed, and during -intervals of lucidity was suffering acutely from his wound. - -Lady Patience could not bring herself to leave him. A feeling she could -not have described seemed to keep her enchained beside this man, whom -but a few hours ago she had never seen, but in whom she felt now that -all her hopes had centred. He had asked her to trust him, and since -then had only recovered consciousness to plead to her with mute, aching -eyes not to take away that trust which she had given him. - -Fortunately, the noted bad state of the roads on Brassing Moor, which at -any time might prove impassable for the coach, had caused her to take -her own saddle as part of her equipment for her journey to London. This -John Stich had fixed for her on Jack o' Lantern's back, and the faithful -beast, as if guessing the sad plight of his master, carried her -ladyship, with Mistress Betty clinging on behind, with lamb-like -gentleness down the narrow bridle-path to Brassington. - -Thomas, the driver, had been left in charge of the coach, with orders to -find his way as quickly as may be along the road to Wirksworth. - -It had been Bathurst's firmly-expressed wish that they should put up at -Brassington, at any rate for the night. Besides being the nearest -point, it was also the most central, whence a sharp lookout could be -kept on Sir Humphrey Challoner's movements. Everything depended now on -how serious the young man's wound turned out to be. - -Patience felt that without his help she was indeed powerless to fight -her cunning enemy. She was never for one moment in doubt as to the -motive which prompted Sir Humphrey Challoner to steal the letters. He -meant to hold them as a weapon over her to enforce the acceptance of his -suit; this she knew well enough. Her instincts, rendered doubly acute -by the imminence of the peril, warned her that the Squire of Harrington -meant to throw all scruples to the wind, and would in wanton revenge -sacrifice Philip by destroying the letters, if she fought or defied him -openly. - -Patience bethought her of the scene at the forge, when Bathurst's ready -wit had saved her brother from the officious and rapacious soldiers: now -that the terrible situation had to be met with keenness and cunning, she -once more turned, with hope in her heart, to the one man who could save -Philip again: but he, alas! lay helpless. And all along the weary way -to Brassington she was listening with aching heart and throbbing temples -to his wild, delirious words and occasional, quickly-suppressed moans. - -However, they reached the Packhorse at last in the small hours of the -morning: money, lavishly distributed by Lady Patience, secured the one -comfortable room in the inn for the wounded man. - -As soon as the day broke John Stich went in quest of Master Prosser, the -leech, a gentleman famed for his skill and learning. Already the rest -on a good bed, and Lady Patience's cool hand and gentle words, had done -much to soothe the patient. Youth and an iron constitution quickly did -the rest. - -The leech pronounced the wound to be neither deep nor serious, and the -extraction of the ball caused the sufferer much relief. - -Within an hour after the worthy man's visit, Jack Bathurst had fallen -into a refreshing sleep, and at John Stich's earnest pleading, Lady -Patience had thrown herself on a bed in the small room which she had -secured for herself and Mistress Betty, and had at last managed to get -some rest. - -The sun was already well up in the heavens when Jack awoke. His eyes, -as soon as they opened, sought anxiously for her dear presence in the -room. - -"Feel better, Captain?" asked John Stich, who had been watching -faithfully by his side. - -"I feel a giant, honest friend," replied the young man. "Help me up, -will you?" - -"The leech said you ought to keep quiet for a bit, Captain," protested -the smith. - -"Oho! he did, did he?" laughed Jack, gaily. "Well! go tell him, friend, -from me, that he is an ass." - -"Where is she, John?" he asked quietly, after a slight pause. - -"In the next room, Captain." - -"Resting?" - -"Aye! she never left your side since you fainted on the Heath." - -"I know--I know, friend," said Jack, with a short, deep sigh; "think you -I could not feel her hand..." - -He checked himself abruptly, and with the help of John Stich raised -himself from the bed. He looked ruefully at his stained clothes, and a -quaint, pleasant smile chased away the last look of weariness and -suffering from his face. - -"Nay! what a plight for Beau Brocade in which to meet the lady of his -dreams, eh, John? Here, help me to make myself presentable! Run down -quickly to mine host, borrow brushes and combs, and anything you can lay -hands on. I am not fit to appear before her eyes." - -"Then will you keep quite still, Captain, until I return? And keep your -arm quietly in the sling? The leech said..." - -"Never mind what the leech said, run, John ... the sight of myself in -that glass there causes me more pain than this stupid scratch. Run -quickly, John, for I hear her footstep in the next room.... I'll not -move from the edge of this bed, I swear it, if you'll only run." - -He kept his word and never stirred from where he sat; but he strained -his ears to listen, for through the thin partition wall he could just -hear her footstep on the rough wooden floor, and occasionally her voice -when she spoke to Betty. - -Half an hour later, when John Stich had done his best to valet and dress -him, he waited upon her ladyship at breakfast in the parlour downstairs. - -She came forward to greet him, her dainty hand outstretched, her eyes -anxiously scanning his face. - -"You should not have risen yet, sir," she said half shyly as he pressed -her finger-tips to his lips, "your poor wounded shoulder..." - -"Nay, with your pardon, madam," he said lightly, "'tis well already -since your sweet hand has tended it." - -"'Twas my desire to nurse you awhile longer, and not allow you to risk -your life for me again." - -"My life? Nay! I'll trust that to mine old enemy, Fortune: she has -ta'en care of it all these years, that I might better now place it at -your service." - -She said nothing, for she felt unaccountably shy. She, who had had half -the gilded youth of England at her feet, found no light bantering word -with which to meet this man; and beneath his ardent gaze she felt -herself blushing like a school miss at her first ball. - -"Will you honour me, sir," she said at last, "by partaking of breakfast -with me?" - -All cares and troubles seemed forgotten. He sat down at the table -opposite to her, and together they drank tea, and ate eggs and bread and -butter: and there was so much to talk about that often they would both -become quite silent, and say all there was to say just with their eyes. - -He told her about the Heath which he knew and loved so well, the beauty -of the sunrise far out behind the Tors, the birds and beasts and their -haunts and habits, the heron on the marshy ground, the cheeky robins on -the branches of the bramble, the lizards and tiny frogs and toads: all -that enchanting world which peopled the Moor and had made it a home for -him. - -And she listened to it all, for he had a deep, tender, caressing voice, -which was always good to hear, and she was happy, for she was young, and -the world in which she dwelt was very beautiful. - -Yet she found this happiness which she felt, quite incomprehensible: she -even chid herself for feeling it, for the outside world was still the -same, and her brother still in peril. He, the man, alone knew whither -he was drifting; he knew that he loved her with every fibre of his -being, and that she was as immeasurably beyond him as the stars. - -He knew what this happiness meant, and that it could but live a day, an -hour. Therefore he drained the cup to its full measure, enjoying each -fraction of a second of this one glorious hour, watching her as she -smiled, as she sipped her tea, as she blushed when she met his eyes. -And sometimes--for he was clumsy with his one arm in a sling--sometimes -as she helped him in the thousand and one little ways of which women -alone possess the enchanting secret, her hand would touch his, just for -one moment, like a bird on the wing, and he, the poor outlaw, saw heaven -open before him, and seeing it, was content. - -Outside an early September sun was flooding the little village street -with its golden light. They did not dare to show themselves at the -window, lest either of them should be recognised, so they had drawn the -thin muslin curtain across the casement, and shut out the earth from -this little kingdom of their own. - -Only at times the bleating of a flock of sheep, or the melancholy lowing -of cattle would come to them from afar, or from the window-sill the -sweet fragrance of a pot of mignonette. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - A DARING PLAN - - -It was close on ten o'clock when they came back to earth once more. - -A peremptory knock at the door had roused them both from their dreams. - -Bathurst rose to open, and there stood John Stich and Mistress Betty, -both looking somewhat flurried and guilty, and both obviously brimming -over with news. - -"My lady! my lady!" cried Betty, excitedly, as soon as she caught her -mistress's eye, "I have just spied Sir Humphrey Challoner at the window -of the Royal George, just over the green yonder." - -"Give me leave, Captain," added John Stich, who was busy rolling up his -sleeves above his powerful arms, "give me leave, and I'll make the rogue -disgorge those letters in a trice." - -"You'd not succeed, honest friend," mused Bathurst, "and might get -yourself in a devil of a hole to boot." - -"Nay, Captain," asserted John, emphatically, "'tis no time now for the -wearing of kid gloves. I was on the green a moment ago, and spied that -ravenous scarecrow, Mittachip, conversing with the beadle outside the -Court House, where Squire West is sitting." - -"Well?" - -"When the beadle had gone, Master Mittachip walked across the green and -went straight to the Royal George. Be gy! what does that mean, -Captain?" - -"Oho!" laughed Jack, much amused at the smith's earnestness, "it means -that Sir Humphrey Challoner intends to lay information against one Beau -Brocade, the noted highwayman, and to see how nice he'll look with a -rope round his neck and dangling six foot from the ground." - -An involuntary cry from Lady Patience, however drowned the laughter on -his lips. - -"Tush, man!" he added seriously, "here's a mighty fine piece of work -we're doing, frightening her ladyship..." - -But John Stich was scowling more heavily than ever. - -"If the scoundrel should dare..." he muttered, clenching his huge fists. - -His attitude was so threatening, and his expression so menacing, that in -the midst of her new anxiety Lady Patience herself could not help -smiling. Beau Brocade laughed outright. - -"Dare?..." he said lightly. "Why, of course he'll dare. He's eager -enough in the pursuit of mischief, and must save the devil all the -trouble of showing him the way. But now," he added more seriously, and -turning to Mistress Betty, "tell me, child, saw you Sir Humphrey -clearly?" - -"Aye! clear as daylight," she retorted, "the old beast..." - -"How was he dressed?" - -"Just like he was yesterday, sir. A brown coat, embroidered waistcoat, -buff breeches, riding-boots, three-cornered hat, and he had in his hand -a gold-headed riding-crop." - -"Child!--child!" cried Bathurst, joyfully, "an those bright eyes of -yours have not deceived you, yours'll be the glory of having saved us -all." - -"What are you going to do?" asked Patience, eagerly. - -"Pit my poor wits against those of Sir Humphrey Challoner," he replied -gaily. - -"I don't quite understand." - -He came up quite close to her and tried to meet her eyes. - -"But you trust me?" he asked. - -And she murmured,-- - -"Absolutely." - -"May Heaven bless you for that word!" he said earnestly. "Then will you -deign to do as I shall direct?" - -"Entirely." - -"Very well! Then whilst friend Stich will fetch my hat for me, will you -write out a formal plaint, signed with your full name, stating that last -night on the Heath you were waylaid and robbed by a man, whom I, your -courier, saw quite plainly, and whom you have desired me to denounce?" - -"But..." - -"I entreat you there's not a moment to be lost," he urged, taking pen, -ink and paper from the old-fashioned desk close by, and placing them -before her. - -"I'll do as you wish, of course," she said, "but what is your purpose?" - -"For the present to take your ladyship's plaint over to his Honour, -Squire West, at the Court House." - -"You'll be seen and recognised and..." - -"Not I. One or two of the yokels may perhaps guess who I am, but they'd -do me no harm. I entreat you, do as I bid you. Every second wasted may -imperil our chance of safety." - -He had such an air of quiet command about him that she instinctively -obeyed him and wrote out the plaint as he directed, then gave it in his -charge. He seemed buoyant and full of hope, and though her heart -misgave her, she managed to smile cheerfully when he took leave of her. - -"I humbly beg of you," he said finally, as having kissed her finger-tips -he prepared to go, "to wait here against my return, and on no account to -take heed of anything you may see or hear for the next half-hour. An I -mistake not," he added with a merry twinkle in his grey eyes, "there'll -be strange doings at Brassington this noon." - -"But you...?" she cried anxiously. - -"Nay! I pray you have no fear for me. In your sweet cause I would -challenge the world, and, if you desired it, would remained unscathed." - -When he had gone, she sighed, and obedient to his wish, sat waiting -patiently for his return in the dingy little parlour which awhile ago -his presence had made so bright. - -It was at this moment that Master Mittachip, after his interview with -the beadle, was in close conversation with Sir Humphrey Challoner at the -Royal George. - -Outside the inn, Bathurst turned to John Stich, who had closely followed -him. - -"How's my Jack o' Lantern?" he asked quickly. - -"As fresh as a daisy, Captain," replied the smith. "I've rubbed him down -myself, and he has had a lovely feed." - -"That's good. You have my saddle with you?" - -"Oh, aye! I knew you'd want it soon enough. Jack o' Lantern carried it -for you himself, bless 'is 'eart, along with her ladyship and Mistress -Betty." - -"Then do you see at once to his being saddled, friend, and bring him -along to the Court House as soon as may be. Hold him in readiness for -me, so that I may mount at a second's notice. You understand?" - -"Yes, Captain. I understand that you are running your head into a -d----d noose, and..." - -"Easy, easy, friend! Remember..." - -"Nay! I'll not forget for whose sake you do it. But you are at a -disadvantage, Captain, with only one good arm." - -"Nay, friend," rejoined Bathurst, lightly, "there's many a thing a man -can do with one arm: he can embrace his mistress ... or shoot his -enemy." - -The sleepy little village of Brassington lay silent and deserted in the -warmth of the noon-day sun, as Bathurst, having parted from John Stich, -hurried across its narrow streets. As he had passed quickly through the -outer passage of the Packhorse he had caught sight of a few red coats at -the dingy bar of the inn, and presently, when he emerged on the green, -he perceived another lot of them over at the Royal George yonder. - -But at this hour the worthy soldiers of His Majesty, King George, were -having their midday rest and their customary glasses of ale, and were -far too busy recounting their adventure with the mysterious stranger at -the forge to the gaffers of Brassington, to take heed of anyone hurrying -along its street. - -And thus Bathurst passed quickly and unperceived; the one or two yokels -whom he met gave him a rapid glance. Only the women turned round, as he -went along, to have another look at the handsome stranger with one arm -in a sling. - -Outside the Court House he came face to face with Master Inch, whose -pompous dignity seemed at this moment to be severely ruffled. - -"Hey, sir! Hey!" he was shouting, and craning his fat neck in search of -Master Mittachip, who had incontinently disappeared, "the Court is -determinating--Squire West will grant you the interview which you -seek.... Lud preserve me!" he added in noble and gigantic wrath, "I do -believe the impious malapert was trying to fool me ... sending me on a -fool's errand ... _me_ ... Jeremiah Inch, beadle of this parish!..." - -Bathurst waited a moment or two until the worst of the beadle's anger -had cooled down a little, then he took a silver crown from his pocket, -and pushed past the worthy into the precincts of the house. - -"The interview you've arranged for, friend," he said quietly; "will do -equally well for her ladyship's courier." - -Master Inch was somewhat taken off his balance. Mittachip's -disappearance and this stranger's impertinence had taken his breath -away. Before he had time to recover it, Bathurst had pressed the silver -crown into his capacious palm. - -"Now tell Squire West, friend," he said with that pleasant air of -authority which he knew so well how to assume, "that I am here by the -command of Lady Patience Gascoyne and am waiting to speak with him." - -Master Inch was so astonished that he found no word either of protest or -of offended dignity. He looked doubtfully at the crown for a second or -two, weighed it in his mind against the problematical half-crown -promised by the defaulting attorney, and then said majestically,-- - -"I will impart her ladyship's cognomen to his Honour myself." - -The next moment Jack Bathurst found himself alone in a small private -room of the Court House, looking forward with suppressed excitement to -the interview with Squire West, which in a moment of dare-devil, madcap -frolic, yet with absolute coolness and firm determination, he had -already arranged in his mind. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - HIS HONOUR, SQUIRE WEST - - -Squire West was an elderly man, with a fine military presence and a -pleasant countenance beneath his bob-tail wig: in his youth he had been -reckoned well-favoured, and had been much petted by the ladies at the -county balls. Owing to this he had retained a certain polish of manner -not often met with in the English country gentry of those times. - -He came forward very politely to greet the courier of Lady Patience -Gascoyne. - -"What hath procured to Brassington the honour of a message from Lady -Patience Gascoyne?" he asked, motioning Bathurst to a chair, and seating -himself behind his desk. - -"Her ladyship herself is staying in the village," replied Jack, "but -would desire her presence to remain unknown for awhile." - -"Oh, indeed!" said the Squire, a little flurried at this unexpected -event, "but ... but there is no inn fitting to harbour her ladyship in -this village, and ... and ... if her ladyship would honour me and my -poor house..." - -"I thank you, sir, but her ladyship only remains here for an hour or so, -and has despatched me to you on an important errand which brooks of no -delay." - -"I am entirely at her ladyship's service." - -"Lady Patience was on her way from Stretton Hall, your Honour," -continued Bathurst, imperturbably, "when her coach was stopped on the -Heath, not very far from here, and her jewels, money, and also certain -valuable papers were stolen from her." - -Squire West hemmed and hawed, and fidgeted in his chair: the matter -seemed, strangely enough, to be causing him more annoyance than -surprise. - -"Dear! dear!" he muttered deprecatingly. - -"Her ladyship has written out her formal plaint," said Jack, laying the -paper before his Honour. "She has sent her coach on to Wirksworth, but -thought your Honour's help here at Brassington would be more useful in -capturing the rogue." - -"Aye!" murmured the worthy Squire, still somewhat doubtfully, and with a -frown of perplexity on his jovial face. "We certainly have a posse of -soldiers--a dozen or so at most--quartered in the village just now, -but..." - -"But what, your Honour?" - -"But to be frank with you, sir, I fear me that 'twill be no good. An I -mistake not, 'tis another exploit of that rascal, Beau Brocade, and the -rogue is so cunning! ... Ah!" he added with a sigh, "we shall have no -peace in this district until we've laid him by the heels." - -It was certainly quite obvious that the Squire was none too eager to -send a posse of soldiers after the notorious highwayman. He had himself -enjoyed immunity on the Heath up to now, and feared that it would be his -turn to suffer if he started an active campaign against Beau Brocade. -But Bathurst, from where he sat, had a good view through the casement -window of the village green, and of the Royal George beyond it. Every -moment he expected to see Sir Humphrey Challoner emerging from under the -porch and entering this Court House, when certainly the situation would -become distinctly critical. The Squire's hesitancy nearly drove him -frantic with impatience, yet perforce he had to keep a glib tongue in -his head, and not to betray more than a natural interest in the subject -which he was discussing. - -"Aye!" he said gaily, "an it was that rogue Beau Brocade, your Honour, -he's the most daring rascal I've ever met. The whole thing was done in -a trice. Odd's fish! but the fellow would steal your front tooth whilst -he parleyed with you. He fired at me and hit me," he added ruefully, -pointing to his wounded shoulder. - -"You were her ladyship's escort on the Heath, sir?" - -"Aye! and would wish to be of assistance in the recovery of her -property: more particularly of a packet of letters on which her ladyship -sets great store. If the rogue were captured now, these might be found -about his person." - -"Ah! I fear me," quoth his Honour, with singular lack of enthusiasm, -"that 'twill not be so easy, sir, as you imagine." - -"How so?" - -"Beau Brocade is in league with half the country-side and..." - -"Nay! you say you have a posse of soldiers quartered here! Gadzooks! if -I had the chance with these and a few lusty fellows from the village, -I'd soon give an account of any highwayman on this Heath!" - -"Dear! dear!" repeated Squire West, sorely puzzled, "a very regrettable -incident indeed." - -"Can I so far trespass on your Honour's time," queried Bathurst, with a -slight show of impatience, "as to ask you at least to take note of her -ladyship's plaint?" - -"Certainly ... sir, certainly ... hem! ... er.... Of course we must -after the rogue ... the beadle shall cry him out on the green at once, -and..." - -It was easy to see that the worthy Squire would far sooner have left the -well-known hero of Brassing Moor severely alone; still, in his official -capacity he was bound to take note of her ladyship's plaint, and to act -as justice demanded. - -"'Tis a pity, sir," he said, whilst he sat fidgeting among his papers, -"that you, or perhaps her ladyship, did not see the rogue's face. I -suppose he was masked as usual?" - -"Faix! he'd have frightened the sheep on the Heath, maybe, if he was -not. But her ladyship and I noted his hair and stature, and also the -cut and colour of his clothes." - -"What was he like?" - -"Tall and stout of build, with dark hair turning to grey." - -"Nay!" ejaculated Squire West, in obvious relief, "then it was not Beau -Brocade, who is young and slim, so I'm told, though I've never seen him. -You saw him plainly, sir, did you say?" - -"Aye! quite plainly, your Honour! And what's more," added Jack, -emphatically, "her ladyship and I both caught sight of him in -Brassington this very morning." - -"In Brassington?" - -"Outside the Royal George," asserted Bathurst, imperturbably. - -"Nay, sir!" cried Squire West, who seemed to have quite lost his air of -indecision, now that he no longer feared to come in direct conflict with -Beau Brocade, "why did you not say this before? Here, Inch! Inch!" he -added, going to the door and shouting lustily across the passage, "where -is that cursed beadle? In Brassington, did you say, sir?" - -"I'd almost swear to it, your Honour." - -"Nay! then with a bit of good luck, we may at least lay _this_ rascal by -the heels. I would I could rid this neighbourhood of these rogues. -Here, Inch," he continued, as soon as that worthy appeared in the -doorway, "do you listen to what this gentleman has got to say. There's -a d----d rascal in this village and you'll have to cry out his -description at once, and then collar him as soon as may be." - -Master Inch placed himself in a posture that was alike dignified and -expectant. His Honour, Squire West, too, was listening eagerly, whilst -Jack Bathurst with perfect _sang-froid_ gave forth the description of -the supposed highwayman. - -"He wore a brown coat," he said calmly, "embroidered waistcoat, buff -breeches, riding-boots and three-cornered hat. He is tall and stout of -build, has dark hair slightly turning to grey, and was last seen -carrying a gold-headed riding-crop." - -"That's clear enough, Inch, is it not?" queried his Honour. - -"It is marvellously pellucid, sir," replied the beadle. - -"You may add, friend Beadle," continued Jack, carelessly, "that her -ladyship offers a reward of twenty guineas for that person's immediate -apprehension." - -And Master Inch, beadle of the parish of Brassington, flew out of the -door, and out of the Court House, bell in hand, for with a little bit of -good luck it might be that he would be the first to lay his hand on the -tall, stout rascal in a brown coat, and would be the one to earn the -twenty guineas offered for his immediate apprehension. - -Squire West himself was over pleased. It was indeed satisfactory to -render service to so great a lady as Lady Patience Gascoyne without -interfering over much with that dare-devil Beau Brocade. The -depredations on Brassing Moor had long been a scandal in the county: it -had oft been thought that Squire West had not been sufficiently active -in trying to rid the Heath of the notorious highwayman, whose exploits -now were famed far and wide. But here was a chance of laying a cursed -rascal by the heels and of showing his zeal in the administration of the -county. - -The Squire, in the interim, busied himself with his papers, whilst -Bathurst, who was vainly trying to appear serious and only casually -interested, stood by the open window, watching Master Inch's progress -across the green. - -Outside the Court House faithful John Stich stood waiting, with Jack o' -Lantern pawing the ground by his side. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - SUCCESS AND DISAPPOINTMENT - - -Thus it was that when Sir Humphrey Challoner, after his lengthy -interview with Mittachip, stepped out of the porch of the Royal George -on his way to the Court House, he found the village green singularly -animated. - -A number of yokels, including quite a goodly contingent of women and -youngsters, were crowding round Master Inch, the beadle, who was ringing -his bell violently and shouting at the top of his lusty voice,-- - -"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Take note that a robber, vagabond and thief is in -hiding in this village." - -Interested in the scene, Sir Humphrey had paused a moment, watching the -pompous beadle and the crowd of gaffers and women. He still carried his -riding-crop, and flicked it with a certain pleasurable satisfaction -against his boot, eagerly anticipating the moment when the village crier -would be giving forth in the same stentorian tones the description of -Beau Brocade, the highwayman. - -"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" continued Master Inch, with ever-increasing -vigour. "Take note that this vagabond is apparelled in a brown coat, -embroidered waistcoat, buff nether garments and riding-boots. Oyez! -Oyez! Oyez! take note that he carried with him this morning a -gold-headed riding-whip, that he is tall and slightly rotund in his -corporation and has raven hair slightly attenuated with grey. - -"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! take note that if any of you observate such a -person as I have just descriptioned, you are to apprise me of this -instantaneously, so that I may take him by force and violence even into -the presence of his Honour. - -"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" - -The gaffers were putting their heads together, whilst the young ones -whispered eagerly,-- - -"Brown coat! ... embroidered waistcoat! ... a gold-headed whip!..." - -Nay, 'twas often enough that Master Inch had to cry out the description -of some wretched vagabond in hiding in the village, but it was not usual -that such an one was attired in the clothes of a gentleman. - -It even struck Sir Humphrey as very strange, and he pushed through the -group of yokels to hear more clearly Master Inch's renewed description -of the rogue. - -"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" - -At first the interest in Master Inch's pompous words was so keen that -Sir Humphrey remained practically unnoticed. One or two villagers, -noting that a gentleman was amongst them, respectfully made way for him, -then one youngster, struck by a sudden idea, stared at him and whispered -to his neighbour,-- - -"He's got a brown coat on..." - -"Aye!" whispered the other in reply, "and an embroiderated waistcoat -too." - -Some of them began crowding around Sir Humphrey, so that he raised his -whip and muttered angrily,-- - -"What the devil are ye all staring at?" - -It was at this very moment that Master Inch suddenly caught sight of -him, just in the very middle of a stentorian,-- - -"Oyez!" - -He gave one tremendous gasp, the bell dropped out of his hand, his jaw -fell, his round, beady eyes nearly bulged out of his head. - -"'Tis him!" murmured the yokel, who stood close to his ear. - -This remark brought back Master Inch to his senses and to the importance -of his position. He raised his large hand above his head and brought it -down with a tremendous clap on Sir Humphrey Challoner's shoulder. - -"Aye! 'tis him!" he shouted lustily, "and be gy! he's got guilt writ all -over his face, and 'tis a mighty ugly surface!" - -Sir Humphrey, taken completely by surprise, was positively purple with -rage. - -"Death and hell!" he cried, clutching his riding-whip significantly. -"What's the meaning of this?" - -But already the younger men, full of excitement and eagerness, had -closed round him, impeding his movements, whilst two more lusty fellows -incontinently seized him by the collar. They felt neither respect nor -sympathy for a vagabond attired in gentleman's clothes. - -Sir Humphrey tried to shake himself free, whilst the beadle majestically -replied,-- - -"You'll have it explanated to you, friend, before his Honour!" - -The excitement and lust of capture was growing apace. - -"Got him!" shouted most of the men. - -"Showin' his ugly face in broad daylight!" commented the women. - -"Hold him tight, beadle," was the universal admonition. - -"You rascal! you dare!..." gasped Sir Humphrey, struggling violently, -and shaking a menacing fist in the beadle's face. - -"Silence!" commanded Master Inch, with supreme dignity. - -"I'll have you whipped for this!" - -But this aroused the beadle's most awesome ire. - -"To the stocks with him!" he ordered, "he insultates the Majesty of the -Law!" - -"You low-born knave! Aye! you'll hang for this!" - -It was all this clamour that at last aroused Master Mittachip in the -parlour of the Royal George from the happy day-dreams in which he was -indulging. At first he took no count of it, then he quietly strolled up -to the window and undid the casement, to ascertain what all the tumult -was about. - -What he did see nearly froze the thin blood within his veins. He would -have cried out, but his very throat contracted with the horror of the -spectacle which he beheld. - -There! across the village green, he saw Sir Humphrey Challoner, his -noble patron, the Squire of Hartington, being clapped into the village -stocks, whilst a crowd of yokels, the clumsy, ignorant d----d louts! -were actually pelting his Honour with carrots, turnips and potatoes! - -Oh! was the world coming to an end? There! a peck of peas hit Sir -Humphrey straight in the eye. No wonder his Honour was purple, he would -have a stroke of apoplexy for sure within the next five minutes. - -At last Master Mittachip recovered the use of his limbs. With one bound -he was out of the inn parlour, and had pushed past mine host and -hostess, who, as ignorant as were all the other villagers of their -guest's name and quality, were watching the scene from the porch, and -holding their sides with laughter. - -Jack Bathurst had watched it all from the window of the Court House: his -dare-devil, madcap scheme had succeeded beyond his most sanguine hopes. -When he saw Sir Humphrey Challoner actually clapped in the village -stocks, with the pompous beadle towering over him, like the sumptuous -Majesty of the Law, he could have cried out in wild merry glee. - -But Jack was above all a man of prompt decision and quick action. For -his own life he cared not one jot, and would gladly have laid it down -for the sake of the woman he loved with all the passionate ardour of his -romantic temperament, but with him, as with every other human being, -self-preservation was the greatest and most irresistible law. He had -readily imperilled his safety in order to obtain possession of the -letters, which meant so much happiness to his beautiful white rose: but -this done, he was ready to do battle for his own life, and to sell his -freedom as dearly as may be. - -He hoped that he had effectually accomplished his purpose through the -arrest of Sir Humphrey Challoner, whose pockets Master Inch was even now -deliberately searching, in spite of vigorous protests and terrible -language from his Honour. His heart gave a wild leap of joy when he saw -the beadle presently hurrying across the green and holding a paper in -his hand. It looked small enough--not a packet, only a single letter: -but if it were the momentous one, then indeed would all risks, all -perils seem as nothing when weighed against the happiness of having -rendered _her_ this service. - -But Jack also saw Master Mittachip darting panic-stricken out of the inn -opposite. He knew of course that within the next few moments--seconds -perhaps--the fraud would be discovered and Sir Humphrey Challoner -liberated, amidst a shower of abject apologies from the Squire and -parish of Brassington combined. What the further consequences of it all -would be to himself was not difficult to foresee. - -He looked behind him. The Squire was sitting at his desk, apparently -taking no notice of the noise and shouting outside. Down below, John -Stich, who had been watching the scene on the green with the utmost -delight, stood ready, holding Jack o' Lantern by the bridle. In a -moment, with a few courteous words to the Squire, Bathurst had hurried -out of the Court House. He met the beadle at the door, who, paper in -hand, conscious of his own importance and flurried with wrath, was -hurrying to report the important arrest to Squire West. - -Bathurst stopped him with a quick,-- - -"'Twas well done, Master Inch!" - -And pressing a couple of guineas into the beadle's hand, he added,-- - -"Her ladyship will further repay when you've found the rest of her -property. In the meanwhile, these, I presume, are the letters she -lost." - -"Only one letter, sir," said Master Inch, as somewhat taken off his -pompous guard he allowed Jack to take the paper from him. - -There was not a minute to be lost. Master Mittachip, having vainly -tried to harangue the yokels, who were still pelting his Honour with -miscellaneous vegetables, was now hurrying to the Court House as fast as -his thin legs would carry him. - -Bathurst took one glance at the paper which Master Inch had given him. -A cry of the keenest disappointment escaped his lips. - -"What is it, Captain?" asked John Stich, who had anxiously been watching -his friend's face. - -"Nothing, friend," replied Bathurst, "only a receipt and tally for some -sheep." - -John Stich uttered a violent oath. - -"And the scoundrel'll escape with a shower of potatoes and no more -punishment than the stocks. And you've risked your life, Captain, for -nothing!" - -"Nay! not for nothing, honest friend," said Jack, in a hurried whisper, -as he mounted Jack o' Lantern with all the speed his helpless arm would -allow. "Do you go back to her ladyship as fast as you can. Beg her -from me not to give up hope, but to feign an illness and on no account -speak to anyone about the events of to-day until she has seen me again. -You understand?" - -"Aye! aye! Captain!" - -At this moment there came a wild cry from the precincts of the Court -House, and Master Mittachip, accompanied by Squire West himself, and -closely followed by the beadle, were seen tearing across the green -towards the village stocks. - -"The truth is out, friend," shouted Jack, as pressing his knees against -Jack o' Lantern's sides, and giving the gallant beast one cry of -encouragement, he galloped away at break-neck speed out towards the -Moor. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - THE MAN HUNT - - -By the time Squire West and the whole of the parish of Brassington had -realised what a terrible practical joke had been perpetrated on them by -the stranger, the latter was far out of sight, with not even a cloud of -dust to mark the way he went. - -But the hue-and-cry after him had never ceased the whole of that day. -Squire West, profuse and abject in his apologies, had told off all the -soldiers who were quartered in the village to scour the Heath day and -night, until that rogue was found and brought before him. The Sergeant, -who was in command of the squad, and the Corporal too, had a score of -their own to settle with the mysterious stranger, whom the general -consensus of opinion declared to have been none other than that -scoundrel unhung, the notorious highwayman, Beau Brocade. - -Master Inch, as soon as he had recovered his breath, distinctly -recollected now seeing a beautiful chestnut horse pawing the ground -outside the Court House during the course of the morning: he blamed -himself severely for not having guessed the identity of the creature, so -closely associated in every one's mind with the exploits of the -highwayman. - -The yokels, however, at this juncture, entrenched themselves behind a -barrier of impenetrable density. In those days, just as even now, it is -beyond human capacity to obtain information from a Derbyshire countryman -if he do not choose to give it. Whether some of those who had pelted -Sir Humphrey Challoner with vegetables had or had not known who his -Honour was, whether some of them had or had not guessed Beau Brocade's -presence in the village, remained, in spite of rigorous -cross-examination a complete mystery to the perplexed Squire and to his -valiant henchman, the beadle. - -Promises, threats, bribes were alike ineffectual. - -"I dunno!" was the stolid, perpetual reply to every question put on -either subject. - -Her ladyship, on the other hand, overcome with fatigue, was too ill to -see anyone. - -The posse of soldiers, a score or so by now, had however been reinforced -as the day wore on by a contingent of Squire West's own indoor and -outdoor servants, also by a few loafers from Brassington itself, of the -sort that are to be found in every corner of the world where there is an -ale-house, the idlers, the toadies, those who had nothing to lose and -something to gain by running counter to popular feeling and taking up -cudgels against Beau Brocade, for the sake of the reward lavishly -promised by Squire West and Sir Humphrey Challoner. - -The latter's temper had not even begun to simmer down at this late hour -of the day when, all arrangements for the battue after the highwayman -being completed, he at last found himself on horseback, ambling along -the bridle-path towards the shepherd's hut, with Master Mittachip beside -him. - -It had been a glorious day, and the evening now gave promise of a balmy -night to come, but the Heath's majestic repose was disturbed by the -doings of man. Beneath the gorse and bracken lizards and toads had gone -to rest in the marshy land beyond, waterhen and lapwing were asleep, but -all the while on the great Moor, through the scrub and blackthorn, along -path and ravine, man was hunting man and finding enjoyment in the sport. - -As Sir Humphrey Challoner and the attorney rode slowly along, they could -hear from time to time the rallying cry of the various parties stalking -the Heath for their big game. The hunt was close on the heels of Beau -Brocade. Earlier in the afternoon his horse had been seen to make its -way, riderless, towards the forge of John Stich. - -The quarry was on foot, he was known to be wounded, he must fall an easy -prey to his trackers soon enough: sometimes in the distance there would -come a shout of triumph, when the human blood-hounds had at last found a -scent, then Sir Humphrey would rouse himself from his moody silence, a -look of keen malice would light up his deep-set eyes, and reining in his -horse, he would strain his ears to hear that shout of triumph again. - -"He'll not escape this time, Sir Humphrey," whispered Mittachip, falling -obsequiously into his employer's mood. - -"No! curse him!" muttered his Honour with a string of violent oaths, "I -shall see him hang before two days are over, unless these dolts let him -escape again." - -"Nay, nay, Sir Humphrey! that's not likely!" chuckled Master Mittachip. -"Squire West has pressed all his own able-bodied men into the service, -and the posse of soldiers were most keen for the chase. Nay, nay, he'll -not escape this time." - -"'Sdeath!" swore his Honour under his breath, "but I do feel stiff!" - -"A dreadful indignity," moaned the attorney. - -"Nay! but Squire West was most distressed, and his apologies were -profuse! Indeed he seemed to feel it as much as if it had happened to -himself." - -"Aye! but not in the same place, I'll warrant! Odd's life, I had no -notion how much a turnip could hurt when flung into one's eye," added -his Honour, with one of those laughs that never boded any good. - -"A most painful incident, Sir Humphrey!" sighed Mittachip, brimming over -with sympathy. - -"'Twas not the incident that was painful! Zounds! I am bruised all -over. But I'll have the law of every one of those dolts, aye! and make -that fool West administer it on all of them! As for that ape, the -beadle, he shall be publicly whipped. Death and hell! they'll have to -pay for this!" - -"Aye! aye! Sir Humphrey! your anger is quite natural, and Squire West -assured me that that rascal Beau Brocade, who played you this impudent -trick, cannot fail to be caught. The hunt is well organised, he cannot -escape." - -As if to confirm the attorney's words, there rose at this moment from -afar a weird and eerie sound, which caused Master Mittachip's shrivelled -flesh to creep along his bones. - -"What was that?" he whispered, horror-struck. - -"A blood-hound, the better to track that rascal," muttered Sir Humphrey, -savagely. - -The attorney shivered; there had been so much devilish malice in his -Honour's voice, that suddenly his puny heart misgave him. He took to -wishing himself well out of this unmanly business. The horror of it -seemed to grip him by the throat: he was superstitious too, and firmly -believed in a material hell; the sound of that distant snarl, followed -by the significant yelping of a hound upon the scent, made him think of -the cries the devils would utter at sight of the damned. - -"The dog belongs to one of Squire West's grooms," remarked his Honour, -carelessly, "a savage beast enough, by the look of him. Luck was in our -favour, for our gallant highwayman had carried Lady Patience's plaint -inside his coat for quite a long time, and then left it on his Honour's -table ... quite enough for any self-respecting blood-hound, and this one -is said to be very keen on the scent.... Squire West tried to protest, -but set a dog to catch a dog, say I." - -Master Mittachip tried to shut his ears to the terrible sound. -Fortunately it was getting fainter now, and Sir Humphrey did not give -him time for much reflection. - -His Honour had stopped for awhile listening, with a chuckle of intense -satisfaction, to the yelping of the dog straining on the leash, then -when the sound died away, he said abruptly,-- - -"Are we still far from the hut?" - -"No, Sir Humphrey," stammered Mittachip, whose very soul was quaking -with horror. - -"We'll find the shepherd there, think you?" - -"Y ... y ... yes, your Honour!" - -"Harkee, Master Mittachip. I'll run no risk. That d----d highwayman -must be desperate to-night. We'll adhere to our original plan, and let -the shepherd take the letters to Wirksworth." - -"You ... you ... you'll not let them bide to-night where they are, Sir -Humphrey?" - -"No, you fool, I won't. They are but just below the surface, under -cover of some bramble, and once those fellows come scouring round the -hut, any one of them may unearth the letters with a kick of his boot. -There's been a lot of talk of a reward for the recovery of a packet of -letters! ... No, no, no! I'll not risk it." - -Sir Humphrey Challoner had thought the matter well out, and knew that he -ran two distinct risks in the matter of the letters. To one he had -alluded just now when he spoke of the probability--remote perhaps--of -the packet being accidentally unearthed by one of the scouring parties. -Any man who found it would naturally at once take it to Squire West, in -the hope of getting the reward promised by her ladyship for its -recovery. The idea, therefore, of leaving the letters in their -hiding-place for awhile did not commend itself to him. On the other -hand, there was the more obvious risk of keeping them about his own -person. Sir Humphrey thanked his stars that he had not done so the day -before, and even now kept in his mind a certain superstitious belief -that Beau Brocade--wounded, hunted and desperate--would make a final -effort, which might prove successful, to wrench the letters from him on -the Heath. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - JOCK MIGGS'S ERRAND - - -Master Mittachip had tried to utter one or two feeble protests, but Sir -Humphrey had interrupted him emphatically,-- - -"The rascal may hope to win his pardon through the Gascoyne influence, -by rendering her ladyship this service. Where'er he may be at this -moment, I am quite sure that his eye is upon me and my doings." - -Mittachip shuddered and closed his eyes: he dared not peer into the dark -scrub beside him, and drew his horse in as close to Sir Humphrey's as he -could. - -"If you're afraid, you lumbering old coward," added his Honour, "go back -and leave me in peace. I'll arrange my own affairs as I think best." - -But the prospect of returning to Brassington alone across this awful -Heath sent Master Mittachip into a renewed agony of terror: though his -noble patron seemed suddenly to have become uncanny in this inordinate -lust for revenge, he preferred his Honour's company to his own, and -therefore made a violent effort to silence his worst fears. The Moor -just now was comparatively calm: the shouts of the hunters and the -yelping of the hound had altogether ceased; perhaps they had lost the -scent. - -Another half-hour's silent ride brought them to the spur of the hill, -along the top of which ran the Wirksworth Road, and as they left the -steep declivity behind them, their ears were pleasantly tickled by the -welcome and bucolic sound of the bleating of sheep. - -"Your friend the shepherd seems to be at his post," quoth Sir Humphrey -with a sigh of satisfaction. - -They were close to the point where on the previous night Lady Patience's -coach had come to a halt, and the next moment brought them in sight of -the shepherd's hut, with the pen beyond it, vaguely discernible in the -gloom. - -Sir Humphrey gave the order to dismount. Master Mittachip, feeling more -dead than alive, had perforce to obey. They tied their horses loosely -to a clump of blackthorn by the roadside and then crept cautiously -towards the hut. - -It suited their purpose well that the night was a dark one. The moon -was not yet high in the heavens, and was still half-veiled by a thin -film of fleecy clouds, leaving the whole vista of the Moor wrapped in -mysterious grey-blue semitones. - -"You have brought the lanthorn," whispered Sir Humphrey, hurriedly. - -"Y ... y ... y ... yes, your Honour," stammered Mittachip. - -"Then quick's the word," said his Honour, pointing to a thick clump of -gorse and bramble quite close to the shed. "The letters are in the very -centre of that clump, and only just below the surface. Do you creep in -there and get them." - -There was nothing for Master Mittachip to do but to obey, and that with -as much alacrity as his terror would allow. His teeth were chattering -in his head, and his hands were trembling so violently that he was some -time in striking a light for the lanthorn. - -Sir Humphrey suppressed an oath of angry impatience. - -"Lud preserve me," murmured the poor attorney, "if that highwayman -should come upon me whilst I am engaged in the task! ... You ... you'll -not leave me, Sir Humphrey?..." - -"I'll lay my stick across your cowardly shoulders if you don't hurry," -was his Honour's only comment. - -He watched Mittachip crawling on his hands and knees underneath the -bramble, and his deep stertorous breathing testified to the anxiety -which was raging within him. A few moments of intense suspense, and -then Master Mittachip reappeared from beneath the scrub, covered with -wet earth, still trembling, but holding the packet of letters -triumphantly in his hand. - -Sir Humphrey snatched it from him. - -"Quick! find the shepherd now! Don't waste time!" he whispered, pushing -the cowering attorney roughly before him. "One feels as if every blade -of grass had a pair of ears on this damned Heath!" he muttered under his -breath. - -Jock Miggs, the shepherd, had counted over his sheep, closed the gate of -the pen, and was just turning into the hut for the night, when he was -hailed by Master Mittachip. - -"Shepherd! hey! shepherd!" - -Miggs looked about him, vaguely astonished. - -Since his adventure of the previous night, when he had been made to play -a tune for mad folks to dance to, he felt that nothing would seriously -surprise him. - -When therefore he felt himself seized by the arm without more ado and -dragged into the darkest corner of the hut, he did not even protest. - -"Did you wish to speak with me, sir?" he asked plaintively, rubbing his -arm, for Sir Humphrey's impatient grip had been very strong and hard. - -"Yes!" said the latter, speaking in a rapid whisper, "here's Master -Mittachip, attorney-at-law, whom you know well, eh?" - -"Aye, aye," murmured Jock Miggs, pulling at his forelock, "t' sheep -belong to his Honour Oi believe." - -"Exactly, Miggs," interposed Master Mittachip, spurred to activity by a -vigorous kick from Sir Humphrey, "and I have come out here on purpose to -see you, for it is very important that you should go at once on to -Wirksworth for me, with a packet and a note for Master Duffy, my clerk." - -"What, now? This time o' night?" quoth Jock, vaguely. - -"Aye, aye, Miggs ... you are not afraid, are you?" - -Sir Humphrey had taken up his stand outside the hut, leaving Mittachip -to arrange this matter with the shepherd. He had leaned his powerful -frame against the wall of the shed, and was grasping his -heavily-weighted riding-crop, ready and alert in case of attack. The -darkness round him at this moment was intense, and his sharp eyes vainly -tried to pierce the gloom, which seemed to be closing in upon him, but -his ears were keenly alive to every sound which came to him out of the -blackness of the night. - -And all the while he tried not to lose one word of the conversation -between Mittachip and the shepherd. - -"That's true, Jock," the attorney was saying. "Well! then if you'll go -to Wirksworth for me, now, at once, there'll be a guinea for you." - -"A guinea!" came in bewildered accents from the worthy shepherd, "Lordy! -Lordy! but these be 'mazing times!" - -"All I want you to do, Jock, is to take a packet for me to my house in -Fulsome Street. You understand?" - -But here there was a pause. Miggs was evidently hesitating. - -"Well?" queried Mittachip. - -"Oi'm thinking, sir..." - -"What?" - -"How can Oi go on your errand when Oi've got to guard this 'ere sheep -for you?" - -"Oh, damn the sheep!" quoth Master Mittachip, emphatically. - -"Well, sir! if you be satisfied..." - -"You know my house at Wirksworth?" - -"Aye, aye, sir." - -"I'll give you a packet. You are to take it to Wirksworth now at once, -and to give it to my clerk, Master Duffy, at my house in Fulsome Street. -You are quite sure you understand?" - -"I dunno as I do!" quoth Jock, vaguely. - -But with an impatient oath Sir Humphrey turned into the hut: matters -were progressing much too slowly for his impatient temperament. He -pushed Mittachip aside, and said peremptorily,-- - -"Look here, shepherd, you want to earn a guinea, don't you?" - -"Aye, sir, that I do." - -"Well, here's the packet, and here's a letter for Master Duffy at Master -Mittachip's house in Fulsome Street. When Master Duffy has the packet -and reads the letter he will give you a guinea. Is that clear?" - -And he handed the packet of letters, and also a small note, to Jock -Miggs, who seemed to have done with hesitation, for he took them with -alacrity. - -"Oh! aye! that's clear enough," he said, "'tis writ in this paper that -I'm to get the guinea?" - -"In Master Mittachip's own hand. But mind! no gossiping, and no -loitering. You must get to Wirksworth before cock-crow." - -Jock Miggs slipped the packet and the note into the pocket of his smock. -The matter of the guinea having been satisfactorily explained to him, he -was quite ready to start. - -"Noa, for sure!" he said, patting the papers affectionately. "Mum's the -word! I'll do your bidding, sir, and the papers'll be safe with me, -seeing it's writ on them that I'm to get a guinea." - -"Exactly. So you mustn't lose them, you know." - -"Noa! noa! I bain't afeeard o' that, nor of the highwaymen; and Beau -Brocade wouldn't touch the loikes o' me, bless 'im. But Lordy! Lordy! -these be 'mazing times." - -Already Sir Humphrey was pushing him impatiently out of the hut. - -"And here," added his Honour, pressing a piece of money into the -shepherd's hand, "here's half-a-crown to keep you on the go." - -"Thank 'ee, sir, and if you think t' sheep will be all right..." - -"Oh, hang the sheep!..." - -"All right, sir ... if Master Mittachip be satisfied ... and I'll leave -t' dog to look after t' sheep." - -He took up his long, knotted stick, and still shaking his head and -muttering "Lordy! Lordy!" the worthy shepherd slowly began to wend his -way along the footpath, which from this point leads straight to -Wirksworth. - -Sir Humphrey watched the quaint, wizened figure for a few seconds, until -it disappeared in the gloom, then he listened for awhile. - -All round him the Heath was silent and at peace, the plaintive bleating -of the sheep in the pen added a note of subdued melancholy to the vast -and impressive stillness. Only from far there came the weird echo of -hound and men on the hunt. - -His Honour swore a round oath. - -"Zounds!" he muttered, "the rogue must be hard pressed, and he's not -like to give us further trouble. Even if he come on us now, eh, you old -scarecrow? ... the letters are safe at last! What?" - -"Lud preserve me!" sighed the attorney, "but I hope so." - -"Back to Brassington then," quoth Sir Humphrey, lustily. "Beau Brocade -can attack us now, eh? Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed in his wonted boisterous -way, "methinks we have outwitted that gallant highwayman after all." - -"For sure, Sir Humphrey," echoed Mittachip, who was meekly following his -Honour's lead across the road to where their horses were in readiness -for them. - -"As for my Lady Patience! ... Ha!" said his Honour, jovially, "her -brother's life is ... well! ... in my hands, to save or to destroy, -according as she will frown on me or smile. But meseems her ladyship -will have to smile, eh?" - -He laughed pleasantly, for he was in exceedingly good temper just now. - -"As for that chivalrous Beau Brocade," he added as he hoisted himself -into the saddle, "he shall, an I mistake not, dangle on a gibbet before -another nightfall." - -"Hark!" he added, as the yelping of the bloodhound once more woke the -silent Moor with its eerie echo. - -Mittachip's scanty locks literally stood up beneath his bob-tail wig. -Even Sir Humphrey could not altogether repress a shudder as he listened -to the shouts, the cries, the snarls, which were rapidly drawing nearer. - -"We should have waited to be in at the death," he said, with enforced -gaiety. "Meseems our fox is being run to earth at last." - -He tried to laugh, but his laughter sounded eerie and unnatural, and -suddenly it was interrupted by the loud report of a pistol shot, -followed by what seemed like prolonged yells of triumph. - -Master Mittachip could bear it no longer; with the desperation of -intense and unreasoning terror he dug his spurs into his horse's flanks, -and like a madman galloped at breakneck speed down the hillside into the -valley below. - -Sir Humphrey followed more leisurely. He had gained his end and was -satisfied. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - THE QUARRY - - -Some few minutes before this the hunted man had emerged upon the road. - -As, worn-out, pallid, aching in every limb, he dragged himself wearily -forward on hands and knees, it would have been difficult to recognise in -this poor, suffering fragment of humanity the brilliant, dashing -gentleman of the road, the foppish, light-hearted dandy, whom the -countryside had nicknamed Beau Brocade. - -The wound in his shoulder, inflamed and throbbing after the breakneck -ride from the Court House to the Heath, had caused him almost -unendurable agony, against which he had at first resolutely set his -teeth. But now his whole body had become numb to every physical -sensation. Covered with mud and grime, his hair matted against his damp -forehead, the lines of pain and exhaustion strongly marked round his -quivering mouth, he seemed only to live through his two senses: his -sight and his hearing. - -The spirit was there though, indomitable, strong, the dogged obstinacy -of the man who has nothing more to lose. And with it all the memory of -the oath he had sworn to her. - -All else was a blank. - -Hunted by men, and with a hound on his track, he had--physically--become -like the beasts of the Moor, alert to every sound, keen only on eluding -his pursuers, on putting off momentarily the inevitable instant of -capture and of death. - -Early in the day he had been forced to part from his faithful companion. -Jack o' Lantern was exhausted and might have proved an additional source -of danger. The gallant beast, accustomed to every bush and every corner -of the Heath, knew its way well to its habitual home: the forge of John -Stich. Jack Bathurst watched it out of sight, content that it would look -after itself, and that being riderless it would be allowed to wend its -way unmolested whither it pleased, on the Moor. - -And thus he had seen the long hours of this glorious September afternoon -drag on their weary course; he had seen the beautiful day turn to late, -glowing afternoon, then the sun gradually set in its mantle of purple -and gold, and finally the grey dusk throw its elusive and mysterious -veil over Tors and Moor. And he, like the hunted beast, crept from -gorse bush to scrub, hiding for his life, driven out of one stronghold -into another, gasping with thirst, panting with fatigue, determined in -spirit, but broken down in body at last. - -By instinct and temperament Jack Bathurst was essentially a brave man. -Physical fear was entirely alien to his nature: he had never known it, -never felt it. During the earlier part of the afternoon, with a score -of men at his heels, some soldiers, others but indifferently-equipped -louts, he had really enjoyed the game of hide-and-seek on the Heath: to -him, at first, it had been nothing more. It was but a part of that -wild, mad life he had chosen, the easily-endured punishment for the -breaking of conventional laws. - -He knew every shrub and crag on this wild corner of the earth which had -become his home, and could have defied a small army, when hidden in the -natural strongholds known only to himself. - -But when he first heard the yelping of the bloodhound set upon his track -by the fiendish cunning of an avowed enemy, an icy horror seemed to -creep into his very marrow: a horror born of the feeling of -powerlessness, of the inevitableness of it all. His one thought now was -lest his hand, trembling and numb with fatigue, would refuse him service -when he would wish to turn the muzzle of his pistol against his own -temple, in time to evade actual capture. - -The dog would not miss him. It was practically useless to hide: flight -alone, constant, ceaseless flight, might help him for a while, but it -was bound to end one way, and one way only: the scent of blood would -lead the cur on his track, and his pursuers would find and seize him! -bind him like a felon, and hang him! Aye! hang him like a common thief! - -He had oft laughed and joked with John Stich about his ultimate probable -fate. He knew that his wild, unlawful career would come to an end -sooner or later, but he always carried pistols in his belt, and had not -even remotely dreamt of capture. - -... Until now! - -But now he was tired, ill, half-paralysed with pain and exhaustion. His -trembling hand crept longingly round the heavy silver handle of the -precious weapon. Every natural instinct in him clamoured for death, now, -at this very moment before that yelping cur drew nearer, before those -shouts of triumph were raised over his downfall. - -Only ... after that ... what would happen? He would be asleep and at -peace ... but she? ... what would she think? ... that like a coward he -had deserted his post ... like a felon he had broken his oath, whilst -there was one single chance of fulfilling it ... that he had left her at -the mercy of that same enemy who had already devised so much cruel -treachery. - -And like a beast he crept back within his lair, and watched and listened -for that one chance of serving her before the end. - -He had seen Sir Humphrey Challoner and Mittachip ambling up the -hillside. He tried not to lose sight of them, and, if possible, to keep -within earshot, but he was driven back by a posse of his pursuers, close -upon his heels, and now having succeeded in reaching the road at last, -he had the terrible chagrin of seeing that he was too late; the two men -were remounting their horses and turning back towards Brassington. - -"Methinks we have outwitted that gallant highwayman after all," Sir -Humphrey was saying with one of those boisterous outbursts of merriment, -which to Bathurst's sensitive ears had a ring of the devil's own glee in -it. - -"What hellish mischief have those two reprobates been brewing, I -wonder?" he mused. "If those fellows at my heels hadn't cut me off I -might have known..." - -He crept nearer to the two men, but they set their horses at a sharp -trot down the road: Jack vainly strained his ears to hear their talk. - -For the last eight hours he had practically covered every corner of the -Heath, backwards and forwards, across boulders and through morass; the -hound had had some difficulty in finding and keeping the trail, but now -it seemed suddenly to have found it, the yelping drew nearer, but the -shouts had altogether ceased. - -What was to be done? God in heaven, what was to be done? - -It was at this moment that the plaintive bleating of one or two of the -penned-up sheep suddenly aroused every instinct of vitality in him. - -"The sheep!..." he murmured. "A receipt and tally for some sheep!..." - -Fresh excitement had in the space of a few seconds given him a new lease -of strength. He dragged himself up to his feet and walked almost -upright as far as the hut. - -There certainly was a flock of sheep in the pen: the dog was watching -close by the gate, but the shepherd was nowhere to be seen. - -"The sheep! ... A receipt and tally for some sheep! ... In Sir Humphrey -Challoner's coat pocket! ..." - -Oh! for one calm moment in which to think ... to think! - -"The sheep!..." This one thought went on hammering in the poor tired -brain, like the tantalising, elusive whisper of a mischievous sprite. - -And with it all there was scarce a second to be lost. - -The hound, yelping and straining on the leash, was not half a mile away; -the next ten or perhaps fifteen minutes would see the end of this awful -man-hunt on the Moor. And yet there close by, behind those clumps of -gorse and the thickset hedge of bramble, was the clearing, where just -twenty-four hours ago he had danced that mad rigadoon, with her almost -in his arms. - -Instinctively, in the wild agony of this supreme moment, Beau Brocade -turned his steps thither. This clearing had but two approaches, there -where the tough branches of furze had once been vigorously cut into. -Last night he had led her through the one whilst Jock Miggs sat beside -the other, piping the quaint sad tune. - -For one moment the hunted man seemed to live that mad, merry hour again, -and from out the darkness fairy fingers seemed to beckon: and her -face--just for one brief second--smiled at him out of the gloom. - -Surely this was not to be the end! Something would happen, something -_must_ happen to enable him to render her the great service he had sworn -to do. - -Oh! if that yelping dog were not quite so close upon his track! Within -the next few minutes, seconds even, he would surely think of something -that would guide him towards that great goal: _her service_. Oh! for -just a brief respite in which to think! a way to evade his captors for a -short while--a means to hide! a disguise! anything. - -But for once the Moor--his happy home, his friend, his mother--was -silent, save for the sound of hunters on his trail, of his doom drawing -nearer and nearer, whilst he stood and remembered his dream. - -It was madness surely, or else a continuance of that fairy vision, but -now it seemed to him, as he stood just there, where yesterday her foot -had plied the dear old measure, that his ear suddenly caught once more -the sound of that self-same rigadoon. - -It was a dream of course. He knew that, and paused awhile, although -every second now meant life or death to him. - -The tune seemed to evade him. It had been close to his ear a moment -ago, now it was growing fainter and fainter, gradually vanishing away: -soon he could scarce hear it, yet it seemed something tangible, -something belonging to her: it was the tune which she had loved, to -which her foot had danced so gladsomely, so he ran after it, ran as fast -as his weary body would take him, to the further end of the clearing, -whither the sweet, sad tune was leading him with its tender, plaintive -echo. - -There, just where the clearing debouched upon the narrow path which -leads to Wirksworth, he overtook Jock Miggs who was slowly wending his -way along, and who just now must have passed quite close to him, blowing -on his tiny pipe, as was his wont. - -"The shepherd! ... Chorus of angels in paradise lend me your aid now!" - -With a supreme effort he pulled his scattered senses together: the -mighty fever of self-defence was upon him, that tower of strength which -some overwhelming danger will give to a brave man once perhaps in his -lifetime. The veil of semi-consciousness, of utter physical -prostration, was lifted from his dull brain for this short brief while. -The exhausted, suffering, hunted creature had once more given place to -the keen, alert son of the Moor, the mad, free child of Nature, with a -resourceful head and a daring hand. And for that same brief while the -great and mighty power whom men have termed Fate, but whom saints have -called God, allowed his untamed spirit to conquer his body and to hold -it in bondage, chasing pain away, trampling down exhaustion, whilst -disclosing to his burning eyes, amidst the dark and deadly gloom, the -magic, golden vision of a newly-awakened hope. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - THE DAWN - - -A while ago, in an agony of longing, he had cried out for a moment's -respite! for a disguise! and now there stood before him Jock Miggs in -smock and broad-brimmed hat, with pipe and shepherd's staff. His -pursuers, headed by the yelping dog, were still a quarter of a mile -away. Five minutes in which to do battle for his life, for his freedom, -for the power to keep his oath! The plan of action had surged in his -mind at first sight of the wizened little figure of the shepherd beside -the further approach to the clearing. - -Beau Brocade drew himself up to his full height, sought and found in the -pocket of his coat the black mask which he habitually wore; this he -fixed to his face, then drawing a pistol from his belt, he overtook Jock -Miggs, clapped him vigorously on the shoulder, and shouted lustily,-- - -"Stand and deliver!" - -Jock Miggs, aroused from his pleasant meditations, threw up his hands in -terror. - -"The Lud have mercy on my soul!" he ejaculated as he fell on his knees. - -"Stand and deliver!" repeated Beau Brocade, in as gruff a voice as he -could command. - -Jock Miggs was trying to collect his scattered wits. - -"B ... b ... but ... kind sir!" he murmured, "y ... y ... you wouldn't -harm Jock Miggs, the shepherd ... would you?" - -"Quick's the word! Now then..." - -"But, good sir ... Oi ... Oi ... Oi've got nowt to deliver..." - -Jock Miggs was pitiful to behold: at any other moment of his life -Bathurst would have felt very sorry for the poor, scared creature, but -that yelping hound was drawing desperately near and he had only a few -minutes at his command. - -"Naught to deliver?" he said with a great show of roughness, and seizing -poor Jock by the collar. - -"Look at your smock!" - -"My smock, kind sir?..." - -"Aye! I've a fancy for your smock ... so off with it ... quick!" - -Jock Miggs struggled up to his feet, he was beginning to gather a small -modicum of courage. He had lived all his life on Brassing Moor and it -was his first serious encounter with an armed gentleman of the road. -Whether 'twas Beau Brocade or no he was too scared to conjecture, but he -had enough experience of the Heath to know that poor folk like himself -had little bodily hurt to fear from highwaymen. - -But of course it was always wisest to obey. As to his old smock... - -"He! he! he! my old smock, sir!" he laughed vaguely and nervously, -"why..." - -"I don't want to knock the poor old cuckoo down," murmured Bathurst to -himself, "but I've just got three minutes before that cur reaches the -top of the clearing and ... Off with your smock, man, or I fire," he -added peremptorily, and pointing the muzzle of his pistol at the -trembling shepherd. - -Miggs had in the meanwhile fully realised that the masked stranger was -in deadly earnest. Why he should want the old smock was more than any -shepherd could conceive, but that he meant to have it was very clear. -Jock uttered a final plaintive word of protest. - -"Kind sir ... but if Oi take off my smock ... I sha'nt be quite d ... d -... decent ... sir ... wi' only my shirt." - -"You shall have my coat," replied Bathurst, decisively. - -"Lud preserve me! ... Your coat, sir!" - -"Yes! it's old and shabby, and my waistcoat too.... Now off with that -smock, or..." - -Once more the muzzle of the pistol gleamed close to Jock Miggs's head. -Without further protest he began to divest himself of his smock. The -process was slow and laborious, and Jack set his teeth not to scream -with the agony of the suspense. - -He himself had had little difficulty in taking off his own coat and -waistcoat, for earlier in the day, before he had been so hard pressed, -the pain in his shoulder had caused him to slip his left arm out of its -sleeve. - -Moreover, the excitement of these last fateful moments kept him at fever -pitch: he was absolutely unconscious of aught save of the rapid flight -of the seconds and the steady approach of dog and men towards the -clearing. - -Even Jock Miggs, who up to now had been too intent on his own adventure -to take much heed of what went on in the gloom beyond, even he perceived -that something unusual was happening on the Moor. - -"What's that?" he asked with renewed terror. - -"A posse of soldiers at my heels," said Beau Brocade, decisively, -"that's why I want your smock, my man, and if I don't get it there'll be -just time to blow out your dull brains before I fall into their hands." - -This last argument was sufficiently convincing. Miggs thought it -decidedly best to obey; he helped his mysterious assailant on with his -own smock, cap and kerchief, and not unwillingly attired himself in Beau -Brocade's discarded coat and waistcoat. - -"A pistol in your belt in case you need it, friend," whispered Bathurst, -rapidly, as he slipped one of the weapons in Miggs's belt, keeping the -other firmly grasped in his own hand. - -There was no doubt that the hound was on the scent now: the men had -ceased shouting but their rapid footsteps could be heard following -closely upon the dog, whose master was muttering a few words of -encouragement. - -Anon there came a whisper, louder than the rest,-- - -"This way!..." - -Then another,-- - -"There's a path here!" - -"Be gy! this confounded darkness!" - -"Steady, Roy! steady, old man! Eh? What?" - -"This way!" - -"Can't you find the trail, old Roy?" - -And the gorse was crackling beneath rapid and stealthy footsteps. There -was now just the width of the clearing between Beau Brocade and his -pursuers. - -"This way, Sergeant. Roy's got the trail again." - -Neither Jock Miggs nor yet Beau Brocade could see what was going on at -the further end of the clearing. The dog, wildly straining against the -leash, was quivering with intense excitement, his master hanging on to -him with all his might. - -Miggs, scared like some sheep lost among a herd of cows, was standing -half-dazed, smoothing down with appreciative fingers the fine cloth of -his new apparel, terrified every time his hand came in contact with the -pistol in his belt. - -But Beau Brocade had crept underneath a heavy clump of gorse and -bramble, and with his finger on the trigger of his weapon he cowered -there, ready for action, his eyes fixed upon the blackness before him. - -The next moment the outline of the hound's head and shoulders became -faintly discernible in the gloom. With nose close to the ground, -powerful jaws dropping and parched tongue hanging out of its mouth, it -was heading straight for the clump of gorse where cowered the hunted -man. - -Beau Brocade took rapid aim and fired. The dog, without a howl, rolled -over on its side, whilst Jock Miggs uttered a cry of terror. - -Then there was an instant's pause. The pursuers, silenced and awed, had -stopped dead, for they had been taken wholly unawares, and for a second -or two waited, expecting and dreading yet another shot. - -Then a mild, trembling voice came to them from the darkness. - -"There 'e is, Sergeant! Just afore you--standing ... see!..." - -The Sergeant and soldiers had no need to be told twice. Their pause had -only been momentary and already they had perceived the outline of Jock -Miggs's figure, standing motionless not far from the body of the dead -dog. - -With a shout of triumph Sergeant and soldiers fell on the astonished -shepherd, whilst the same mild, trembling voice continued to pipe -excitedly,-- - -"Hold 'un tight, Sergeant! Jump on 'im! Tie 'is legs! Sure, an' 'tis -he, the rascal!" - -Jock Miggs had had no chance of uttering one word of protest, for one of -the soldiers, remembering a lesson learnt the day before at the smithy, -had thrown his own heavy coat right over the poor fellow's head, -effectually smothering his screams. Another man had picked up the still -smoking pistol from the ground close to Miggs's feet. - -"Pistols!" said the Sergeant, excitedly. "The pair o' them too," he -added, pulling the other silver-mounted weapon out of Miggs's belt, and -the black mask out of the pocket of his coat: "and silver-mounted, be -gy! ... And his mask! ... Now, my men, off with him.... Tie his legs -together--off with your belts, quick! ... and you, Corporal, keep that -coat tied well over his head ... the rascal's like an eel, and'll -wriggle out of your hands if you don't hold him tight.... Remember -there's a hundred guineas reward for the capture of Beau Brocade." - -Poor old Miggs, smothered within the thick folds of the soldier's coat, -could scarce manage to breathe. The men were fastening his knees and -ankles together with their leather belts, his arms too were pinioned -behind his back. Thus trussed and spitted like a goose ready for -roasting, he felt himself being hauled up on the shoulders of some of -the men and then borne triumphantly away. - -"We've gotten Beau Brocade!" - -"Hip! hip! hurray!" - -And so they marched away, shouting lustily, whilst Beau Brocade remained -alone on the Heath. - -The excitement was over now. He was safe for the moment and free. But -the hour of victory seemed like the hour of death; as the last shouts of -triumph, the last cry of "Hurrah!" died away in the distance, he fell -back against the wet earth; his senses were reeling, the very ground -seemed to be giving way beneath his feet, a lurid, red film to be rising -before his closing lids, blotting out the darkness of the Moor, and that -faint, very faint, streak of grey which had just appeared in the east. - -God, to whom he had cried out in his agony, had given him the respite -for which he had craved. He was safe and free to think ... to think of -her ... and yet now his one longing seemed to be to lie down and rest -... and rest ... and sleep... - -Many a night he had lain thus on the open Moor, with the soft, -sweet-scented earth for his bed, and the tender buds of heather as a -pillow for his head. But to-night he was only conscious of infinite -peace, and his trembling hands drew the worthy shepherd's smock closer -round him. - -His wandering spirit paused awhile to dwell on poor Miggs in his sorry -plight.... Ah, well! the morning would see Jock free again, but in the -meanwhile... - -Then all of a sudden the spirit was back on earth, back to life and to a -mad, scarce understandable hope. His hand had come in contact with a -packet of letters in the pocket of Miggs's smock. - -Far away in the sky the eastern stars had paled before the morning -light. One by one the distant peaks of the Derbyshire hills emerged -from the black mantle of the night, and peeped down on the valley below, -blushing a rosy red. Upon the Heath animal life began to be astir--in -the morass beyond a lazy frog started to croak. - -Beau Brocade had clasped the letters with cold, numb fingers: he drew -them forth and held them before his dimmed eyes. - -"The letters!..." he murmured, trembling with the agony of this great -unlooked-for joy. "The letters!..." - -How they came there, he could not tell. He was too weary, too ill to -guess. But that they were her letters he could not for a moment doubt. -He had found them! God and His angels had placed them in his hands! - -Ah, Fortune! fickle Fortune! the wilful jade and the poor outlaw were to -be even then after all. And 'twas Beau Brocade, highwayman, thief, who -was destined in a few hours to bring her this great happiness. - -"Will she ... will she smile, I wonder..." - -He loved to see her smile, and to watch the soft tell-tale blush slowly -mounting to her cheek. Ah! now he was dreaming ... dreams that never, -never could be. He would bring her back the letters, for he had sworn -to her that she should have them ere the sun had risen twice o'er yon -green-clad hills. And then all would be over, and she would pass out of -his life like a beautiful comet gliding across the firmament of his -destiny. - -A moment but not to stay. - -In the east, far away, rose had changed to gold. From Moor and Heath and -Bogland came the sound of innumerable bird-throats singing the great and -wonderful hymn of praise, hosanna to awakening Nature. - -The outlaw had kept his oath; he turned to where the first rays of the -rising sun shed their shimmering mantle over the distant Tors, and in -one great uplifting of his soul to his Maker he prayed that sweet death -might kiss him when he placed the letters at her feet. - - - - - PART IV - - H.R.H. THE DUKE OF CUMBERLAND - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - SUSPENSE - - -Throughout the whole range of suffering which humanity is called upon to -endure, there is perhaps nothing so hard to bear as suspense. - -The uncertainty of what the immediate future might bring, the -fast-sinking hope, the slowly-creeping despair, the agony of dull, weary -hours: Patience had gone through the whole miserable gamut during that -long and terrible day when, obedient to Bathurst's wishes, she had shut -herself up in the dingy little parlour of the Packhorse and refused to -see anyone save the faithful smith. - -And the news which John Stich brought to her from time to time was -horrible enough to hear. - -He tried to palliate as much as possible the account of that awful -battue organised against Beau Brocade, but she guessed from the troubled -look on the honest smith's face, and from the furtive, anxious glance of -his eyes, that the man whom she had trusted with her whole heart was now -in peril, even more deadly than that which had assailed her brother. - -And with the innate sympathy born of a true and loving heart, she -guessed too how John Stich's simple, faithful soul went out in -passionate longing to his friend, who, alone, wounded, perhaps helpless, -was fighting his last battle on the Heath. - -Yet the trust within her had not died out. Beau Brocade had sworn to do -her service and to bring her back the letters ere the sun had risen -twice o'er the green-clad hills. To her overwrought mind it seemed -impossible that he should fail. He was not the type of man whom fate or -adverse circumstance ever succeeded in conquering, and on his whole -magnetic personality, on the intense vitality of his being, Nature had -omitted to put the mark of failure. - -But the hours wore on and she was without further news. Her terror for -her brother increased the agony of her suspense. She could see that -John Stich too had become anxious about Philip. There was no doubt that -with an organised man-hunt on the Moor the lonely forge by the -cross-roads would no longer be a safe hiding-place for the Earl of -Stretton. The smithy was already marked as a suspected house, and John -Stich was known to be a firm adherent of the Gascoynes and a faithful -friend of Beau Brocade. - -During the course of this eventful day the attention of the Sergeant and -soldiers had been distracted, through Bathurst's daring actions, from -Stich's supposed nephew out o' Nottingham, but as the beautiful -September afternoon turned to twilight and then to dusk, and band after -band of hunters set out to scour the Heath, it became quite clear both -to Patience and to the smith that Philip must be got away from the forge -at any cost. - -He could remain in temporary shelter at the Packhorse, under the guise -of one of Lady Patience's serving-men, at anyrate until another -nightfall, when a fresh refuge could be found for him, according as the -events would shape themselves within the next few hours. - -Therefore, as soon as the shadows of evening began to creep over -Brassing Moor, Stich set out for the cross-roads. He walked at a brisk -pace along the narrow footpath which led up to his forge, his honest -heart heavy at thought of his friend, all alone out there on the Heath. - -The weird echo of the man-hunt did not reach this western boundary of -the Moor, but even in its stillness the vast immensity looked hard and -cruel in the gloom: the outlines of gorse bush and blackthorn seemed -akin to gaunt, Cassandra-like spectres foreshadowing some awful -disaster. - -Within the forge Philip too had waited in an agony of suspense, whilst -twice the glorious sunset had clothed the Tors with gold. - -Driven by hunger and cold out of the hiding-place on the Moor which -Bathurst had found for him, he had returned to the smithy the first -night, only to find John Stich gone and no trace of his newly-found -friend. His sister, he knew, must have started for London, but he was -without any news as to what had happened in the forge, and ignorant of -the gallant fight made therein by the notorious highwayman. - -The hour was late then, and Philip was loth to disturb old Mistress -Stich, John's mother, who kept house for him at the cottage. Moreover, -he had the firm belief in his heart that neither Bathurst nor Stich -would have deserted him, had they thought that he was in imminent -danger. - -Tired out with the excitement of the day, and with a certain amount of -hope renewed in his buoyant young heart, he curled himself up in a -corner of the shed and forgot all his troubles in a sound sleep. - -The next morning found him under the care of old Mistress Stich at the -cottage. She had had no news of John, who had wandered out, so she -said, about two hours after sunset, possibly to find the Captain; but -she thrilled the young man's ears with the account of the daring fight -in the forge. - -"Nay! but they'll never get our Captain!" said the worthy dame, with a -break in her gentle old voice, "and if the whole countryside was after -him they'd never get him. Leastways so says my John." - -"God grant he may speak truly," replied the young man, fervently; "'tis -shame enough on me that a brave man should risk his life for me, whilst -I have to stand idly behind a cupboard door." - -The absence of definite news weighed heavily upon his spirits, and as -the day wore on and neither John Stich nor Bathurst reappeared, his -hopes very quickly began to give way to anxiety and then to despair. -Philip always had a touch of morbid self-analysis in his nature: unlike -Jack Bathurst, he was ever ready to bend the neck before untoward fate, -heaping self-accusation on self-reproach, and thus allowing his spirit -to bow to circumstance, rather than to attempt to defy it. - -And throughout the whole of this day he sat, moody and silent, with the -ever-recurring thought hammering in his brain,-- - -"I ought not to have allowed a stranger to risk his life for me. I -should have given myself up. 'Twas unworthy a soldier and a gentleman." - -By the time the shadows had lengthened on the Moor, and Jack o' Lantern -covered with sweat had arrived riderless at the forge, Philip was -formulating wild plans of going to Wirksworth and there surrendering -himself to the local magistrate. He worked himself up into a fever of -heroic self-sacrifice, and had just resolved only to wait until dawn to -carry out his purpose, when John Stich appeared in the doorway of his -smithy. - -One look in the honest fellow's face told the young Earl of Stretton -that most things in his world were amiss just now. A few eager -questions, and as briefly as possible Stich told him exactly how matters -stood: the letters stolen by Sir Humphrey Challoner, Bathurst's -determination to re-capture them and the organized hunt proceeding this -very night against him. - -"Her ladyship and I both think, my lord, that this place is not safe for -you just now," added John, finally, "and she begs you to come to her at -Brassington as soon as you can. The road is safe enough," added the -smith, with a heavy sigh, "no one'd notice us--they are all after the -Captain, and God knows but perhaps they've got him by now." - -Philip could say nothing, for his miserable self-reproaches had broken -his spirit of obstinacy. His boyish heart was overflowing with sympathy -for the kindly smith. How gladly now would he have given his own life -to save that of his gallant rescuer! - -Obediently he prepared to accede to his sister's wishes. He knew what -agony she must have endured when the letters were filched from her; he -guessed that she would wish to have him near her, and in any case he -wanted to be on the spot, hoping that yet he could offer his own life in -exchange for the one which was being so nobly risked for him. - -Quite quietly, therefore, and without a murmur, he prepared to accompany -Stich back to Brassington. At the Packhorse a serving-man's suit could -easily be found for him, and he would be safe enough there, for a little -while at least. - -John Stich, having tended Jack o' Lantern with loving care, took a hasty -farewell of his mother. While his friend's fate and that of his young -lord hung in the balance he was not like to get back quietly to his -work. - -"The Captain may come back here for shelter mayhap," he said, with a -catch in his throat, as he kissed the old dame "good-bye"; "you'll tend -to him, mother?" - -"Aye! you may be sure o' that, John," replied Mistress Stich, fervently. - -"He'll need a rest mayhap, and some nice warm water; he's such a dandy, -mother, you know." - -"Aye! aye!" - -"And you might lay out his best clothes for him; he may need 'em -mayhap." - -"Aye! I've got 'em laid in lavender for him. That nice sky-blue coat, -think you, John?" - -"Aye, and the fine 'broidered waistcoat, and the black silk bow for his -hair, and the lace ruffles for his wrists, and..." - -Stich broke down, a great lump had risen in his throat. Would the -foppish young dandy, the handsome, light-hearted gallant, ever gladden -the eyes of honest John again? - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - "WE'VE GOTTEN BEAU BROCADE!" - - -The presence of Philip at the inn had done much to cheer Patience in her -weary waiting. He and John Stich had reached the Packhorse some time -before cockcrow, and the landlord had been only too ready to do anything -in reason to further the safety of the fugitive, so long as his own -interests were not imperilled thereby. - -This meant that he would give Philip a serving-man's suit and afford him -shelter in the inn, for as long as the authorities did not suspect him -of harbouring a rebel; beyond that he would not go. - -Lady Patience had paid him lavishly for this help and his subsequent -silence. It was understood that the fugitive would only make a brief -halt at Brassington: some more secluded shelter would have to be found -for him on the morrow. - -For the moment, of course, the thoughts of everyone in the village would -be centred in the capture of Beau Brocade. The highwayman had many -friends and adherents in the village, people whom his careless and -open-handed generosity had often saved from penury. To a man almost, -the village folk hoped to see him come out victorious from the awful and -unequal struggle which was going on on the Heath. So strong was this -feeling that the beadle, who was known to entertain revengeful thoughts -against the man who had played him so impudent a trick the day before, -did not dare to show his rubicund face in the bar-parlour of either inn -on that memorable night. - -No one had gone to bed. The men waited about, consuming tankards of -small ale, whilst discussing the possibility of their hero's capture. -The women sat at home with streaming eyes, plaintively wondering who -would help them in future in their distress, if Beau Brocade ceased to -haunt the Heath. - -Patience herself did not close an eye. Her hand clinging to that of -Philip, she sat throughout that long, weary night watching and waiting, -dreading the awful dawn, with the terrible news it would bring. - -And it was when the first rosy light shed its delicate hue over the tiny -old-world village, that the sweet-scented morning air was suddenly -filled with the hoarse triumphal cry,-- - -"We have gotten Beau Brocade!" - -"Hip! hip! hip! hurray!" - -Wearied and dazed with the fatigue of her long vigil, Patience had sunk -into a torpor when those shouts, rapidly drawing nearer to the village, -roused her from this state of semi-consciousness. - -She hardly knew what she had hoped during these past anxious hours: now -that the awful certainty had come, it seemed to stun her with the -unexpectedness of the blow. - -"We've gotten Beau Brocade!" - -The village folk turned out in melancholy groups from the parlour of the -inn; they too had entertained vague hopes that their hero would emerge -unscathed from the perils which encompassed him; to them too the news of -his capture came as that of a sad, irretrievable catastrophe. They -congregated in small, excited numbers on the village green, their stolid -heads shaking sadly at sight of the squad of soldiers, who were bringing -in a swathed-up bundle of humanity, smothered about the head in a -scarlet coat, and with hands and legs securely strapped down with a -couple of military belts. Only the fine brown cloth coat, the -beautifully-embroidered waistcoat and silver-mounted pistol proclaimed -that miserable, helpless bundle to be the gallant Beau Brocade. - -The soldiers themselves were in a wild state of glee; they had carried -their prisoner in triumph all the way from the Heath, and had never -ceased shouting until they had deposited him on the green. Owing to the -unusual hour, and to the absence of His Honour, Squire West, the -pinioned highwayman was to be locked up in the pound until noon. - -In the small private parlour of the Packhorse Patience had sat rigid as -a statue, while those shouts of triumph seemed to strike her heart as -with a hammer. Her fist pressed against her burning mouth, she was -making desperate efforts to smother the scream of agony which would have -rent her throat. - -But with one bound John Stich was soon out of the Packhorse, where he, -too, with aching heart and mind devoured with anxiety, had watched and -waited through the night. - -It did not take him long to reach the green, and using his stalwart -elbows to some purpose, he quickly made a way for himself through the -small crowd and was presently looking down on the huddled figure which -lay helpless on the ground. - -There was the Captain's fine brown coat sure enough, with its ample, -silk-lined, full skirts, and rich, cut-steel buttons; there was the -long, richly-embroidered waistcoat; the lace cuffs at the wrists, and -the handsome sword-belt, through which the finely-chased silver handle -of the pistol still protruded. But John Stich had need but to cast one -glance at the hands, and another at the feet encased in rough -countryman's boots, to realise with a sudden, wild exultation of his -honest heart that in some way or other his Captain had succeeded in once -more playing a trick on his pursuers, and that the man who lay there -muffled on the ground was certainly not Beau Brocade. - -But even in the suddenness of this intense joy and relief, John Stich -was shrewd enough not to betray himself. Obviously every moment, during -which the captors enjoyed their mistaken triumph, was a respite gained -for the hunted man out on the Heath. Therefore when the Sergeant ordered -the rascal to be locked up in the pound awaiting his Honour's orders, -and gave Stich a vigorous rap on the shoulder, saying lustily,-- - -"Well, Master Stich, we've got your friend after all, you see?" - -The smith quietly replied,-- - -"Aye! aye! you've gotten him right enough. No offence, Sergeant! Have a -small ale with me before we all go to bed?" - -"'Tis nowt to me," he added, seeing with intense satisfaction the heavy -bolts of the pound securely pushed home on the unfortunate Jock Miggs. - -The Sergeant was nothing loth, and eagerly followed Stich to the bar of -the Royal George, where small ale now flowed freely until the sun was -high in the heavens. - -But as soon as the smith had seen the soldiers safely installed before -their huge tankards, he rushed out of the inn and across the green, back -to the Packhorse, to bring the joyful news to Lady Patience and her -brother. - -In the privacy of the little back parlour he was able to give free rein -to his joy. - -"They'll never get the Captain," he shouted, tossing his cap in the air, -"and, saving your ladyship's presence, we was all fools to think they -would." - -Patience had said nothing when the smith first brought the news. She -smiled kindly and somewhat mechanically at the exuberance of his joy, -but when honest John once more left her, to glean more detailed account -of the great man-hunt on the Heath, she turned to her brother, and -falling on her knees she buried her fair head against the lad's shoulder -and sobbed in the fulness of her joy as if her heart would break. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - - A PAINFUL INCIDENT - - -A few hours later, when hunters and watchers had had a little rest, came -the rude awakening after the hour of triumph. - -Jock Miggs, still trussed and pinioned, had been hauled out of the -pound. Master Inch, the beadle, resplendent in gold-laced coat and the -majesty of his own importance, had taken the order of ceremony into his -own hands. - -His Honour, Squire West, would be round at the Court House about noon, -and Inch, still smarting under the indignity put upon him through the -instrumentality of the highwayman, had devised an additional little plan -of revenge. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner had emphatically declared that the beadle should -be publicly whipped for having dared to lay hands on the Squire of -Hartington's person. Master Inch remembered this possible and appalling -indignity, which mayhap he would be called upon to suffer, and therefore -when the bolts of the pound were first drawn, disclosing the swathed-up -bundle of humanity which was supposed to be the highwayman, the beadle -shouted in his most stentorian, most pompous tones,-- - -"To the pond with him!" - -The soldiers--most of them lads recruited from the Midland counties, and -a pretty rough lot to boot--were only too ready for this additional bit -of horseplay. - -'Twas fun enough to sit an old scold in the ducking-stool, but to carry -on the same game with Beau Brocade, the notorious highwayman, who had -defied the four counties and set every posse of soldiers by the ears, -would be rare sport indeed. - -With a shout of joy they seized Jock Miggs by the legs and shoulders, -and with much laughter and many a lively sally they carried him to the -shallow duck-pond at the further end of the green. Very sadly, and with -many an anxious shake of the head, the village folk followed the little -procession, which was headed by the Sergeant and pompous Master Inch. - -At the moment when the unfortunate shepherd was being swung in mid-air, -preparatory to his immersion in the water, one of the soldiers -laughingly dragged away the coat which swathed poor Miggs's head and -shoulders, and was near suffocating him. - -"We don't want 'im to drown, do we?" he said, just as his comrades -dropped the wretched man straight into the pond. - -Immediately there was a loud cry from beadle and spectators,-- - -"Lud love us all! that bain't Beau Brocade!" - -And one timid voice added,-- - -"Why! 'tis Jock Miggs, the shepherd!" - -The beadle nearly had a fit of apoplectic rage. That cursed highwayman -surely must be in league with the devil himself. The soldiers were -gasping with astonishment, and staring open-mouthed at the dripping -figure of Jock Miggs, who with unruffled stolidity was quietly -struggling out of the water. - -"Lordy! Lordy! these be 'mazing times," he muttered in his vague, -fatalistic way as he shook himself dry in the sunshine, after the manner -of his own woolly sheep-dog. - -"Oho! ho! ha! ha! ha!" came in merry chorus from the crowd of village -folk, "look at Jock Miggs, the highwayman!" - -The soldiers, were absolutely speechless. Master Inch, the beadle, had -said emphatically,-- - -"Damn!" - -Truly there was nothing more to be said: those who were inclined to be -superstitious felt convinced that the devil himself had had something to -do with this amazing substitution. - -That it was Beau Brocade who had been captured on the Heath last night -none of those who were present at the time doubted for a single instant. -To their minds the highwayman had been mysteriously spirited away by the -agency of Satan his friend, who had quietly deposited Jock Miggs, the -shepherd, in his place. - -John Stich, with Mistress Betty beside him, had watched these -proceedings from the other end of the green, fully prepared to come to -Miggs's assistance and to disclose the latter's identity at once if the -horse-play became at all too rough. He now pushed his way through the -group of soldiers, and good-naturedly taking hold of the bewildered -shepherd's arm, he led him to the porch of the Royal George. - -"You'd like to wet your gullet after this, eh, Jock?" he said, as he -ordered a tankard of steaming ale to be brought forthwith to the -dripping man. - -The soldiers, somewhat shamefaced, had pressed into the bar-parlour of -the inn: presently there would be a few broken heads in the village as a -result of the morning's work, but for the moment the yokels had not -begun to chaff: 'twas Jock who was the centre of attraction outside in -the porch, sitting on a bench and sipping large quantities of hot ale. - -"Let's all drink a glass of ale to the health of Jock Miggs, the -highwayman!" came in merry accents from one of the gaffers. - -"Hurrah for Jock Miggs, the highwayman!" was the universal gleeful -chorus. - -"Be gy! Don't he look formidable!" quoth one of the villagers, pointing -at the shepherd's scared figure on the bench. - -"Let me perish!" said another in mock alarm, "but I'se mightily afeeard -o' him." - -Mistress Betty too had mixed with the throng, and was eyeing Jock, with -irrepressible laughter dancing in her saucy little face. - -"Lud! 'tis that funny bit of sheep's wool!" she said gaily. "Faith! and -you do look sadly, Jock Miggs, and no mistake! Have you been in the -pond?" - -"How did 'e foind that out?" queried Miggs, vaguely. "Aye! they dumped -Oi in t' pond, they did ... and nearly throttled Oi ... 'tis a blamed -shame!" - -He had sipped huge tankards of hot ale until he felt thoroughly warm, -and was steaming now like a great loaf just out of the oven. - -"Dumped ye in the pond?" laughed Mistress Betty. "You were no beauty -before, Jock Miggs ... but now ... Oh! Gemini! ... Why, what had you -done?" - -"I'd done nowt!" retorted the bewildered shepherd. "A foine gentleman -he took a fancy to me old smock, he did ... he put a pistol to my head -... then he give me his own beautiful coat for to make me look decent -... and I were just puttin' it on when them soldiers fell on me ... and -nigh throttled me, and clapped me in the pound they did..." - -"Ye seem to have had a rough time o' it, friend Miggs," said John Stich, -kindly. - -"Aye, that be so!" commented Jock, vaguely. "'Mazing times these be!" - -"They mistook you in your fine clothes for Beau Brocade," explained one -of the villagers. - -"May be so!" quoth Miggs. "I dunno." - -But Mistress Betty held up a rosy finger at the unfortunate shepherd, -and said with grave severity,-- - -"Ye are not Beau Brocade, Jock Miggs, are ye?" - -"I dunno!" replied Jock Miggs with imperturbable vagueness. "I don't -rightly know who Oi be! I think them soldiers made a mistake, but I -dunno." - -He was undoubtedly the hero of the hour, and the rest of his morning was -spent in pleasant conviviality with all his friends in the village, -until by about noon the worthy shepherd was really hopelessly at sea as -to who he really was. At one o'clock he became quite convinced that he -was Beau Brocade the highwayman--or at any rate a very dangerous -character--and had only escaped hanging through his reputation of -supernatural cunning and bravery. - -The Sergeant and soldiers were drowning their acute disappointment in -the bar-parlour of the Royal George. They certainly were not in luck, -for even at the very moment when egged on by the Sergeant they were -planning a fresh battue of the Heath, there came into Brassington an -advance guard from the Duke of Cumberland, with the news that His Royal -Highness would pass through the village with his army corps on his way -to the north. The Sergeant was requisitioned to arrange for His -Highness's quarters at the Royal George: the men would not be allowed to -go hunting after a highwayman, in case their officers had need of them -for other purposes. - -All thoughts of a fresh hunt after their elusive quarry would therefore -have to be abandoned until after the army had passed through -Brassington, and Sergeant and soldiers could but hope that they would be -left behind, in order that they might make one more gigantic attempt to -earn the hundred guineas reward, offered for the capture of Beau -Brocade. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII - - THE AWAKENING - - -John Stich could scarce contain himself for joy. Fate indeed and all the -angels in heaven had ranged themselves on the side of his Captain. - -That Beau Brocade should have emerged unconquered after all out of the -terrible position in which he was placed last night, seemed to the -worthy smith nothing short of miraculous, and only accomplished through -the special agency of heaven, whose most cherished child the gallant -highwayman most undoubtedly was, in his friend's enthusiastic -estimation. - -For the moment, therefore, the kindly smith felt tolerably happy about -his friend. The presence of His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland -with his army corps in this part of the country would do much towards -keeping the Sergeant and soldiers' attention away from the Heath, at any -rate for a day or two. Perhaps the squad now quartered at Brassington -would be drafted to one of the regiments, and a fresh contingent, -composed of men who'd have no special bone to pick with the highwayman, -left behind for the still active hunt against the rebels. - -But this train of thought brought the faithful smith's mind back to the -Earl of Stretton and the stolen letters. Reassured momentarily as to -his friend, he was still aware of the grave peril which threatened his -young lord. - -Neither he nor Lady Patience could conjecture what had become of the -letters. Sir Humphrey Challoner, after his woeful adventure in -Brassington, had condescended to accept Squire West's hospitality for -the nonce. Stich had spied him in the course of the morning, walking in -the direction of the village in close conversation with his familiar, -Master Mittachip, attorney-at-law. In spite of the momentary respite in -his anxiety, the smith felt that there lay still the real danger to Beau -Brocade and to Lord Stretton. Moreover, by now he longed to see his -friend and to learn how he'd fared. Vaguely in his honest heart he -feared that the young man had succumbed on the Heath to pain and -fatigue, and mayhap had failed to reach the forge. - -When he saw the entire population of Brassington busy with Jock Miggs, -and the soldiers intent on the news from the Duke of Cumberland's -advance guard, he determined to set out for the crossroads, in the hopes -of finding the Captain at the forge. - -He had just crossed the green and turned into the narrow bridle-path -which led straight to his smithy, when he spied a yokel, dressed in a -long smock and wearing a broad-brimmed hat, coming slowly towards him. -The man was leaning heavily on a thick knotted stick and seemed to be -walking with obvious pain and fatigue. - -Some unexplainable instinct caused the smith to wait awhile until the -yokel came a little nearer. This corner of the village was quite -deserted; the laughter of the folk assembled round the Royal George -could be heard only as a distant echo from across the green. The next -moment the smith uttered a quickly-suppressed cry of astonishment as he -recognised Bathurst's face underneath the broad-brimmed hat. - -"Sh! ... sh ... sh!" whispered the young man hurriedly--"her ladyship? -... can I see her?" - -"Yes! yes!" replied John, whose honest eyes were resting anxiously on -his friend's pallid face, "but you, Captain? ... you?..." - -He did not like to formulate the question, and Bathurst interrupted him -quickly. - -"I've rested awhile at the forge, John ... your mother was an angel ... -and now I want to see her ladyship." - -John's honest heart misgave him. His friend's fresh young voice sounded -hoarse and unnatural, there was a restless, feverish glitter in his -eyes, and the slender, tapering hand which rested on the stick trembled -visibly. - -"You ought to be in bed, Captain," he muttered gruffly, "and well nursed -too; you are ill..." - -"I am sufficiently alive, friend, at any rate to serve Lady Patience to -the end." - -"I'll go tell her ladyship," said the smith, with a sigh. - -"Say a man from the village would wish to speak with her.... Don't -mention my name, John ... she'll not know me, I think.... 'Tis best -that she should not.... And I look a miserable object enough, don't I?" -he added with a feeble laugh. - -"Her ladyship would command you to rest if she knew..." - -"I don't wish her to know, friend," said Jack, smiling in spite of -himself at the good fellow's vehemence, "her tender pity would try to -wean me from my purpose, which is to serve her with the last breath left -in me. And now, quick, John.... Don't worry about me, old friend.... I -am only a little tired after that scramble on the Heath ... and the -wound that limb of Satan dealt me is at times rather troublesome.... -But I am very tough, you know.... All my plans are made, and I'll -follow you at a little distance. Beg her ladyship to speak with me in -the passage of the inn ... 'twould excite too much attention if I went -up to her parlour.... No one'll know me, never fear." - -John knew of old how useless it was to argue with the Captain once he -had set his mind on a definite course of action. Without further -protest, therefore, and yet with a heavy heart, he turned and quickly -walked back through the village to the Packhorse, followed at some -little distance by Bathurst. - -In order to arouse as little suspicion as possible, it had been -necessary for the young Earl of Stretton to mix from time to time with -the servant and the barman of the inn. He was supposed to be an -additional serving-man, come to help at the Packhorse in view of her -ladyship's unexpected stay there. In this out-of-the-way village of -Brassington no one knew him by sight, and he was in comparative safety -here, until nightfall, when he meant to strike up country again for -shelter. - -He was standing in the shadow behind the bar, when John Stich entered -the parlour, bearing the message from Beau Brocade. The room was dark -and narrow, over-filled with heavy clouds of tobacco smoke and with the -deafening clamour of loud discussions and exciting narratives carried on -by two or three soldiers and some half-dozen villagers over profuse -tankards of ale. - -John Stich managed to reach Philip's ear without exciting attention. -The young man at once slipped out of the room, in order to tell his -sister that a yokel bearing important news would wish to speak with her -privately. - -Her heart beating with eagerness and apprehension, Patience hurried down -the narrow stairs, and in the passage found herself face to face with a -man dressed in a long, dingy smock, and whose features she could not -distinguish beneath the broad brim of his hat. - -He raised a respectful hand to his forelock as soon as he was in her -ladyship's presence, but did not remove his hat. - -"You wished to speak with me, my man?" asked Lady Patience, eagerly. - -"I have a message for to deliver to Lady Patience Gascoyne," said -Bathurst, whose voice, hoarse and quavering with fatigue, needed no -assumption of disguise. He kept his head well bent, and the passage was -very dark. - -Patience, with her thoughts fixed on the gallant, upright figure she had -last seen so full of vitality and joy in the little inn-parlour -upstairs, scarce gave more than a passing glance to the stooping form, -leaning heavily on a stick before her. - -"Yes, yes," she said impatiently, "you have a message? From whom?" - -"I don't rightly know, my lady ... a gentleman 'twas ... on the Heath -this morning ... he give me this letter for your ladyship." - -Burying his tell-tale, slender hand well inside the capacious sleeve of -Jock Miggs's smock, Bathurst handed Patience a note written by himself. -She took it from him with a glad little cry, and when he turned to go -she put a restraining hand on his arm. - -"Wait till I've read the letter," she said, "I may wish to send an -answer." - -She unfolded the letter slowly, very slowly, he standing close beside -her and watching the tears gathering in her eyes as she began to read, -murmuring the words half audibly to herself:-- - - -"Have no fear. I have the letters, and with your permission will take -them straight to London. I have a powerful friend there who will help -me to place them before the King and Council without delay. To carry -this safely through it is important that I should not be seen again in -Brassington, as Sir Humphrey Challoner luckily has lost track of me for -the moment, and I can be at Wirksworth before nightfall, and on my way -to London before another dawn. Your enemy will keep watch on _you_, so I -entreat you to stay in Brassington so as to engage his attention, whilst -I go to London with the letters. His lordship would be safest, I think, -in the cottage of old Widow Coggins at Aldwark. It has been my good -fortune to do her some small service; she'll befriend his lordship for -my sake. John Stich will convey him thither as soon as maybe. I -entreat you to be of good cheer. A few days will see your brother a -free man, and rid you for ever of your enemy. Believe me, the plan I -have had the honour to set forth is safe and quick, and on my knees I -beg you to allow me to carry it through in your service." - - -She folded the letter and then slipped it into the folds of her gown. - -Through the open doorway behind her a ray of sunshine came shyly peeping -in, framing her graceful figure with a narrow fillet of gold. They were -alone in the passage, and she, intent upon the precious letter, was -taking no notice of him: thus he could feast his eyes once more upon his -dream, his beautiful white rose, drooping with the dew, the graceful -silhouette outlined against the sunlit picture beyond, the queenly head, -with its wealth of soft golden hair, bent with rapt attention on the -letter which trembled in her hand. - -His whole being ached with mad passionate longing for her, his lips -burned with a desire to cover her neck and throat with kisses, yet he -would have knelt on the flagstones before her and worshipped as did the -saints before Our Lady's shrine. In his heart was a great joy that he -could do her service, and a strange, wild hope that he might die for -her. - -"The gentleman who gave you this letter..." she said with a slight catch -in her low, melodious voice. "You saw him? ... He was well? ... How did -he look?..." - -Her eyes now were swimming in tears, and Bathurst had much ado to still -the mad beating of his heart, and to force his voice to a natural tone. - -"Lud, my lady," he said, "but he was just like any other body Oi -thought." - -"Not ill?" - -"Noa! noa! not that Oi could see." - -"Go back to him, friend," she said, with sudden eagerness, "tell him -that he must come to me at once ... I ... I would speak with him." - -It required all Bathurst's firm strength of will not to betray himself -before her. The tender pleading in her eyes, the gentle, womanly -sympathy in her voice, set all his pulses beating. But he had made up -his mind that she should not know him just then. A look, a cry, might -give him away, and there was but one chance now to be of useful service -to her, and that was to take the letters at once to London, whilst their -joint enemy had for the nonce no thought of him. - -Therefore he contrived to say quite stolidly,-- - -"Noa, noa, the gentleman said to Oi, 'You can bring a message, but th' -lady mustn't come nigh me!'" - -She gave a quick little sigh of disappointment. - -"Then, my good fellow," she said, "try to remember ... tell him ... tell -him ... I would wish to thank him ... tell him.... Nay! nay!" she -suddenly added, pulling a faded white rose from her belt, "tell him -nothing ... but give him this flower ... in token that I have received -his letter ... and will act as he bids me.... You'll remember?" - -He dared not trust himself to speak, but as she held out the rose to him -he took it from her hand and involuntarily his finger-tips came in -contact with hers just for a second ... long enough for the divine -magnetism of his great love to pass from him to her. - -She seized hold of his hand, for in that one magnetic touch she had -recognised him. Her heart gave a great leap of joy, the joy of being -near him once more, of again feeling the tender, grey eyes resting with -passionate longing on her face. But she uttered neither cry nor word, -for it was a great, silent and godlike moment--when at last she -understood. - -He had stooped still lower and rested his burning lips upon her cool -fingers, and upon the rose which she had worn at her breast. - -Neither of them spoke, for their hearts were in perfect unison, their -whole being thrilled with the wild, jubilant echo of a divine hosanna, -and around them the legions of God's angels made a rampart of snow-white -wings, to shut out all the universe from them, leaving them alone with -their love. - - - CHAPTER XXXIV - - A LIFE FOR A LIFE - - -That moment was brief, as all such great and happy moments are. - -But a few seconds had passed since both her hands had rested in his, and -he forgot the world in that one kiss upon her finger-tips. - -The next instant a fast-approaching noise of hurrying footsteps, -accompanied by much shouting, roused them from their dream. - -Both through the back and the front door a crowd of excited soldiers had -pushed their way into the inn, whilst the folk in the bar-parlour, -attracted by the sudden noise, pressed out into the narrow passage to -see what was happening. - -John Stich, foremost amongst these, made a rush for Patience's side. -She found herself suddenly pressed back towards the foot of the stairs, -and face to face with a noisy group of village folk, through which the -Sergeant and some half-dozen soldiers were roughly pushing their way. - -She looked round her, helpless and bewildered. Jack Bathurst had -disappeared. - -The whole thing had occurred in the brief space of a few seconds, even -before Patience had had time to realise that anything was amiss. - -The narrow staircase, at the foot of which she now stood, led straight -up to the private parlour, where Philip was even now awaiting her -return. - -"Out of the way, you rascals," the Sergeant was shouting, whilst -elbowing his way through the small group of gaping yokels, and pressing -forward towards the stairs. - -"Will your ladyship allow me the privilege of conducting you out of this -crowd?" said a suave voice at Patience's elbow. - -Sir Humphrey Challoner, closely followed by the obsequious Mittachip, -had pushed his way into the inn, in the wake of the soldiers, and was -now standing between her and the crowd, bowing very deferentially and -offering her his arm, to conduct her upstairs. - -But a few moments ago he had heard the startling news that Jock Miggs -had been captured on the Heath, in mistake for Beau Brocade. As far as -Sir Humphrey could ascertain nothing of importance had been found on the -shepherd's person, and in a moment he realised that, through almost -supernatural cunning, the highwayman must have succeeded in filching the -letters, and by now had no doubt once more restored them to Lady -Patience. - -All the scheming, the lying, the treachery of the past few days had -therefore been in vain; but Sir Humphrey Challoner was not the man to -give up a definite purpose after the first material check to his plans. -If her ladyship was once more in possession of the letters, they must be -got away from her again. That was all. And if that cursed highwayman -was still free to-day, 'sdeath but he'll have to hang on the morrow. - -In the meanwhile Philip's momentary safety was a matter of the greatest -moment to Sir Humphrey Challoner. If that clumsy lout of a Sergeant got -hold of the lad, all Sir Humphrey's schemes for forcing Lady Patience's -acceptance of his suit by means of the precious letters would -necessarily fall to the ground. - -But instinctively Patience recoiled from him; his suave words, his -presence near her at this terrible crisis, frightened her more -effectually than the Sergeant's threatening attitude. She drew close to -John Stich, who had interposed his burly figure between the soldiers and -the foot of the stairs. - -"Out of the way, John Stich," shouted the Sergeant, peremptorily, "this -is not your forge, remember, and by G---- I'll not be tricked again." - -"Those are her ladyship's private rooms," retorted the smith, without -yielding one inch of the ground. "Landlord," he shouted at the top of -his voice, "I call upon you to protect her ladyship from these -ruffians." - -"You insult His Majesty's uniform," quoth the Sergeant, briefly, "and do -yourself no good, smith. As for the landlord of this inn, he interferes -'tween me and my duty at his peril." - -"But by what right do you interfere with me, Master Sergeant?" here -interposed Lady Patience, trying to assume an indifferent air of calm -haughtiness. "Do you know who I am?" - -"Aye! that I do, my lady!" responded the Sergeant, gruffly, "and that's -what's brought me here this morning. Not half an hour ago I heard that -Lady Patience Gascoyne was staying at the Packhorse, and now the folks -say that a new serving-man came to give a helping hand here. He arrived -in the middle of the night, it seems. Strange time for a serving-man to -turn up, ain't it?" - -"I know nothing of any servant at this inn, and I order you at once to -withdraw your men, and not to dare further to molest me." - -"Your pardon, my lady, but my orders is my orders: I have been sent here -by His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland hisself to hunt out all the -rebels who are in hiding in these parts. I've strict orders to be on -the lookout for Philip James Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, who, I -understand, is your ladyship's own brother, and as I've a right o' -search, I mean to see who else is staying in those rooms upstairs -besides your ladyship." - -"This is an outrage, Sergeant!" - -"Maybe, my lady," he retorted drily, "but with us soldiers orders is -orders, saving your presence. I was tricked at the smithy, and again on -the Heath. My belief is that we were hunting a bogey last night, There -may or mayn't be any highwayman called Beau Brocade, but there was a -fine young gallant at the forge the day afore yesterday, who did for me -and my men, and I'll take my oath that he was none other than the rebel, -Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton." - -"'Tis false and you talk like a madman, Sergeant." - -"Maybe! but your ladyship'll please stand aside until I've searched -those rooms upstairs, or I'll have to order my men to lay hands on your -ladyship. Now then, John Stich, stand aside in the name of the King!" - -John Stich did not move, and Lady Patience still stood defiant and -haughty at the foot of the stairs. The villagers, stolid and stupid, -were staring open-mouthed, not daring to interfere. But of course it -was only a question of seconds, the worthy smith could not guard the -staircase for long against the Sergeant and a dozen soldiers, and in any -case nothing would be of any avail. Philip in the room upstairs was -trapped like a fox in its lair, and nothing could save him now from -falling into the soldiers' hands. - -In vain she sought for Bathurst among the crowd: with wild, unreasoning -agony she longed for him in this moment of her greatest need, and he was -not there. She felt sure that if only he were near her he would think -of something, do something, to avert the appalling catastrophe. - -"I give your ladyship one minute's time to stand quietly aside," said -the Sergeant, roughly. "After that I give my men orders to lay hands on -you, and on any one who dares to interfere." - -"Give me the letters," whispered Sir Humphrey Challoner, insinuatingly, -in her ear. "I can yet save your brother." - -"How?" she murmured involuntarily. - -He looked up towards the top of the stairs. - -"Then he _is_ up there?" - -She did not reply. It was useless to deny it, the next few moments -would bring the inevitable. - -"Stand back, Sergeant," quoth John Stich, defiantly. "I have the honour -to protect her ladyship's person against any outrage from you." - -"Good words, smith," retorted the Sergeant, "but I tell ye I've been -tricked twice by you and I mean to know the reason why. Let her -ladyship allow me to search the room upstairs and I'll not lay hands on -her." - -"Ye shall not pass," repeated the smith, obstinately. - -"The letters," whispered Sir Humphrey, "give me the letters and I pledge -you my honour that I can save him yet." - -But half mad with terror and misery, scornful, defiant, she turned on -him. - -"Your honour!" she said, with infinite contempt. - -But in her inmost heart she murmured in agonised despair,-- - -"What's to be done? Oh, God, protect him!" - -"Stand back, John Stich," repeated the Sergeant, for the third time, "or -I give my men the order to charge. Now then, my men!" - -"Ye shall not pass!" was the smith's persistent, obstinate answer to the -challenge. - -"Forward!" shouted the soldier in a loud voice. "Into it, my men! Use -your bayonets if anyone interferes with ye!" - -The soldiers, nothing loth, were ready for the attack: there had already -been too much parleying to suit their taste. They had been baffled too -often in the last few days to be in the mood to dally with a woman, be -she her ladyship or no. - -With a loud cry they made a dash for the stairway, which behind Stich -and Lady Patience lost itself in the gloom above. - -And it was from out this darkness that at this moment a light-hearted, -fresh young voice struck upon the astonished ears of all those present. - -"Nay! too much zeal, friend Stich. Stand aside, I pray you. Faith! -it'll give me great pleasure to converse with these gallant lobsters." - -And Jack Bathurst, pushing the bewildered smith gently to one side, came -down the stairs with a smile upon his face, calm, debonnair, dressed as -for a feast. - -He had discarded Jock Miggs's long smock, broad-brimmed hat and -kerchief, and appeared in all the gorgeous finery of the beautiful -lavender-scented clothes, he had donned at the forge with the kindly aid -of Mistress Stich. He was still very pale and there were a few lines of -weariness and of bodily pain round the firm, sensitive mouth, but his -grey eyes, deep-sunk and magnetic, glowed with the keen fire of intense -excitement. The coat of fine blue cloth set off his tall, trim figure -to perfection. His left hand was tucked into the opening of his -exquisitely embroidered waistcoat, and dainty ruffles of delicate -Mechlin lace adorned his neckcloth and wrists. As he appeared there, -handsome, foppish and smiling, 'twas no wonder that the countryside had -nicknamed him Beau Brocade. - -"Well! my gallant friend!" he said, addressing the Sergeant, since the -latter seemed too astonished to speak, "what is it you want with me, -eh?" - -The Sergeant was gradually recovering his breath. Fate apparently was -playing into his hands. It was almost too bewildering for any bluff -soldier to realise, but it certainly seemed pretty clear that the rebel -Earl of Stretton and Beau Brocade the highwayman were one and the same -person. - -"You are Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton?" he asked at last. - -"Faith! you've guessed that, have you?" responded Bathurst, gaily. -"Odd's life, 'tis marvellous how much penetration lies hidden beneath -that becoming coat of yours." - -"Then, Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, you are attainted by -Parliament for high treason, and I arrest you in the name of the King!" - -There were indeed many conflicting emotions raging in the hearts of all -those present whilst this brief colloquy was going on. - -John Stich, accustomed to implicit obedience where his Captain's actions -were concerned, had not dared to speak or stir. Sir Humphrey Challoner, -completely thrown off his mental balance by the unexpected appearance of -Bathurst, was hastily trying to make up his bewildered mind as to what -was now best to be done. - -As to Patience herself, at first a great, an overwhelming joy and pride -had seized her at the thought that he was near her now, that he had not -deserted her in the hour of her greatest need, that once again he had -interposed his magnetic, powerful personality between her and the danger -which threatened her and Philip. - -It was only when the Sergeant's momentous words, "I arrest you in the -name of the King!" rang out clearly and decisively above the loud tumult -which was beating in her heart, that she became aware of the deadly -peril which threatened the man she loved. - -True, he had come once more between her and danger, but once again he -had done it at risk of his life, and was like at last to lay it down for -her. - -She had been standing a little to one side, turning, as all had done, -toward the elegant, foppish figure in the fine clothes and dainty -ruffles of lace, but now she stepped forward with mad, unreasoning -impulse, thrusting herself between him and the Sergeant, and trying to -shield him behind the folds of her cloak. - -"No! no! no! no!" she said excitedly. "Sergeant, 'tis all a mistake! ... -I swear..." - -But already Jack Bathurst had bent forward, and had contrived to -whisper, unheard by all save her,-- - -"Hush--sh--your brother ... remember his danger..." - -"Your pardon, lady," said the Sergeant, seeing that she paused, -irresolute, not knowing what to do in face of this terrible alternative -which was confronting her. "Your pardon, lady, but this gentleman is -Philip, Earl of Stretton, is he not?" - -"For your brother's sake," whispered Bathurst once more. - -"No ... yes ... Oh! my God!" murmured Patience, in the agony of this -appalling misery. - -Her brother or the man she loved. One or the other betrayed by one word -from her, now at this moment, with no time to pray to God for help or -guidance, no chance of giving her own life for both! - -"Out on you, friend," said Bathurst, lightly, "do you not see her -ladyship is upset. Nay! have no fear, I'll follow you quietly!" he -added, seeing that the Sergeant and soldiers were making a motion to -surround him, "but you'll grant me leave to say farewell to my sister?" - -The Sergeant could not very well refuse. He was at heart a humane man, -and now that he was sure of this important capture, he would have done a -good deal to ingratiate himself, through little acts of courtesy, with -Lady Patience Gascoyne. - -However, he had no mind to be tricked again, and in face of an almost -immediate execution for high treason, the prisoner seemed -extraordinarily self-possessed and cheerful. But for her ladyship's -obvious despair and sorrow, the worthy Sergeant might even now have had -some misgivings. - -As it was, he told off three men to mount the stairs, and to stand on -guard at the top of them, in case the prisoner made a dash that way, in -the hopes of reaching the roof. The Sergeant still kept an idea in his -mind that some supernatural agency was at work in favour of this -extraordinary man, who up to now had seemed to bear a charmed life. He -had the little narrow passage and hall of the inn cleared of the gaping -yokels, who went off one by one, scratching their addled polls, -wondering what it all meant, and who was Beau Brocade. Was he the Earl -of Stretton? was he the highwayman? or some pixie from the Heath with -power to change himself at will? - -Sir Humphrey Challoner retired within the shadow of the stairway. On -the whole he preferred to leave the events to shape their own course. -In one way Fate had befriended him. Whether hanged in his own name or -in that of the Earl of Stretton, the highwayman would within the next -few hours be safely out of the way, and then it would be easier no doubt -to obtain possession of the letters once again. - -He too like the Sergeant and soldiers, felt an instinctive dread of -supernatural agency in connection with Beau Brocade. In these days -there existed still a deeply-rooted belief in witchcraft, and the -educated classes were not altogether proof against the popular -superstitions. - -Sir Humphrey had a curious, intense hatred for the man who had so -chivalrously championed Lady Patience's cause. His own love for her was -so selfish and lustful that overpowering jealousy formed its chief -characteristic. He was frantically, madly jealous of Jack Bathurst, for -with the keen eyes of the scorned suitor, he had noted the look of joy -and pride in her face when the young man first appeared on the stairs, -and he alone of all those present knew how to interpret her obvious -despair, her terrible misery, when brought face to face with the awful -alternative of giving up her brother or the man she loved. - -Sir Humphrey swore some heavy oaths under his breath at thought of the -scorn with which she had rejected him. Womanlike, she had yielded to -the blandishments of that thief, and proud Lady Patience Gascoyne had -fallen in love with a highwayman! - -But now Fate meant to be kind to Sir Humphrey. With that chivalrous -coxcomb out of the way, Lady Patience would be once more at his mercy. -Philip was still a fugitive under the ban of attainder, and the letters -could be got hold of once again, unless indeed the devil, with an army -of witches and evil sprites, came to the assistance of that rascal Beau -Brocade. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV - - QUITS - - -Hemmed in by a compact little group of soldiers at the foot of the -stairs, and with three men on guard at the head of it, Bathurst and -Patience had but a few minutes in which to live these last brief moments -of their love. - -She clung passionately to him, throwing aside all the haughty reserve of -her own proud nature: conquered by her great love: a woman only, whose -very life was bound up in his. - -"They shall not take you!" she moaned in the agony of her despair. -"They shall not.... I will not let you go!" - -And he held her in his arms now, savouring with exquisite delight this -happiest moment of his life, the joy of feeling her tender form clinging -to him in passionate sorrow, to see the tears gathering in her blue -eyes, one by one, for him and to know that her love--her great, -measureless, divine love--was at last wholly his. - -But the moments were brief, and the Sergeant below was already waxing -impatient. He drew her gently into a dark angle of the stairs, up -against the banisters, and taking the packet of letters from his pocket, -he pressed them into her hand. - -"The letters! quick!" he whispered. "God guard you and him!" - -"The letters?" she murmured mechanically. - -"Aye! I can do nothing now ... but try to see the Duke of Cumberland -before you go to London, show him the letters.... He may be in this -village to-day ... if not, you can see him at Wirksworth.... He has -power to stay execution even if your brother is arrested ... he might -use it, if he had seen the letters..." - -"Yes! yes!" she murmured. - -Sorrow seemed to have dazed her, she did not quite know what she was -doing, but her left hand closed instinctively over the precious packet, -then dropped listlessly by her side. - -Neither she nor Bathurst had perceived a thin, attenuated figure -hoisting itself monkey-wise over the dark portion of the banisters. - -"Try and hear what those two are saying," Sir Humphrey had whispered, -and the attorney, obedient and obsequious, had made a desperate effort -to do as he was bid. The staircase was but partially lighted by a -glimmer of daylight, which came slanting round the corner from the -passage. The banisters were in complete shadow, and the Sergeant and -soldiers were too intent on watching their prisoner to notice Master -Mittachip or Sir Humphrey. - -The next moment Patience felt a terrific wrench on all her fingers; even -as she uttered a cry of pain and alarm, the packet of letters was torn -out of her hand from behind, and she was dimly conscious of a dark -figure clambering over the banisters and disappearing into the darkness -below. - -But with a mad cry of rage Jack Bathurst had bounded after that -retreating figure; wholly taken by surprise, he only saw the dim outline -of Mittachip's attenuated form, as the latter hastily dropped the packet -of letters at Sir Humphrey Challoner's feet, who stooped to pick them -up. Like an infuriated wild beast Jack fell on Sir Humphrey. - -"You limb of Satan!" he gasped. "You ... you.... Give me back those -letters! ... Stich! Stich! quick!..." - -The force of the impact had thrown both men to the ground. Bathurst was -gripping his antagonist by the throat with fingers of steel. But -already the Sergeant and his men had come to the rescue, dragging Jack -away from the prostrate figure of Sir Humphrey, whilst the soldiers from -above had run down and were forcibly keeping John Stich in check. - -Freed from his powerful antagonist, his Honour quietly picked himself -up, readjusted his crumpled neckcloth and flicked the dust from off his -coat. He was calmly thrusting the packet of letters in his pocket, -whilst the Sergeant was giving orders to his men to bind their prisoner -securely, if he offered further resistance. - -"Sergeant!" said Bathurst, despairingly, "that miscreant has just stolen -some letters belonging to her ladyship." - -"Silence, prisoner!" commented the Sergeant. "You do yourself no good by -this violence." - -It seemed as if Fate meant to underline this terrible situation with a -final stroke of her ironical pen, for just then the quiet village street -beyond suddenly became alive with repeated joyous shouts and noise of -tramping feet. In a moment the dull, monotonous air of Brassington was -filled with a magnetic excitement which seemed to pervade all its -inhabitants at once, and even penetrated within the small dingy inn, -where the last act of a momentous drama was at this moment being played. - -"It must be the Duke of Cumberland's army!" quoth the Sergeant, -straining his ears to catch the sound of a fast-approaching cavalcade. - -"Then you'll please His Royal Highness with the smart capture you've -made, Sergeant," said Sir Humphrey, with easy condescension. - -This was indeed Fate's most bitter irony. "The Duke has power to stay -execution, and would use it if you showed him the letters!" These were -the last words of counsel Bathurst had given Patience, and now with -freedom for her brother almost within her grasp, she was powerless to do -aught to save him. - -"The letters, Sir Humphrey!" she murmured imploringly, "an you've a -spark of honour left in you." - -"Nay!" he retorted under his breath, with truly savage triumph, "an you -don't close your lover's mouth, I'll hand your brother over to these -soldiers too, and then destroy the letters before your eyes." - -He turned, and for a moment regarded with an almost devilish sneer the -spectacle of his enemy rendered helpless at last. Bathurst, like some -fettered lion caught in a trap, was still making frantic efforts to free -himself, until a violent wrench on his wounded shoulder threw him half -unconscious on his knees. - -"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Sir Humphrey, "I think, my chivalrous friend, you -and I are even at last." - -"Come, prisoner, you'd best follow me quietly now," said the Sergeant, -touched in spite of himself by Patience's terrible sorrow. - -But at Sir Humphrey's final taunt Jack Bathurst had shaken off the -deadly feeling of sickness which was beginning to conquer him. He threw -back his head, and with the help of the soldiers struggled again to his -feet. The clamour outside was beginning to be louder and more -continuous: through it all came the inspiriting sound of a -fast-approaching regimental band. - -"The Duke of Cumberland, is it, Sergeant?" he said suddenly. - -"Marching through the village on his way to the north," assented the -Sergeant. "Now then, prisoner..." - -"Nay, then, Sergeant," shouted Jack in a loud voice, as, wrenching his -right arm from the grasp of the soldier who held him, he pointed to Sir -Humphrey Challoner, "detain that man! ... An I am the rebel Earl of -Stretton, he was my accomplice, and has all the papers relating to our -great conspiracy at this moment about his person ... the door!--the -door!" he added excitedly, "take care! ... he'll escape you! ... and he -has papers on him now that would astonish the King." - -Instinctively the soldiers had rushed for both the doorways, and when -Sir Humphrey, with a shrug of the shoulders, made a movement as if to -go, the Sergeant barred the way and said,-- - -"One moment, sir." - -"You would dare?" retorted Sir Humphrey, haughtily. "Are you such a -consummate fool as not to see that that man is raving mad?" - -"Search him, Sergeant!" continued Bathurst, excitedly, "you'll find the -truth of what I say.... Search him ... her ladyship knows he was my -accomplice.... Search him!--the loss of those papers'd cost you your -stripes." - -The Sergeant was not a little perplexed. Already, the day before, the -seizure of Sir Humphrey Challoner's person had been attended with -disastrous consequences for the beadle of Brassington, and now.... - -No doubt the Sergeant would never have ventured, but the near approach -of the Duke of Cumberland's army, and of his own superior officers, gave -the worthy soldier a certain amount of confidence. He had full rights -and powers of search, and had been sent to this part of the country to -hunt for rebels. He had been tricked and hoodwinked more often than he -cared to remember, and he knew that his superior officers would never -blame him for following up a clue, even if thereby he was somewhat -overstepping his powers. - -"The papers," continued Bathurst, "the papers which'll prove his guilt -... the papers! or he'll destroy them." - -The Sergeant gave a last look at his prisoner. He seemed secure enough -guarded by three men, who were even now strapping his hands behind his -back. The accusation therefore could be no trick to save his own skin, -and who knows? if the Earl of Stretton was a rebel lord, then why not -the Squire of Hartington? - -"Seize him, and search him!" commanded the Sergeant, "in the name of the -King!" - -"Your pardon, sir," he added deferentially, "but the Duke of Cumberland -is within earshot almost, and I should be cashiered if I neglected my -duty." - -"This is an outrage!" cried Sir Humphrey, who had become purple with -rage. - -"It's doing your Honour no harm! and if I've done wrong no doubt I shall -be punished. Search him, my men!" - -It was Sir Humphrey's turn now to be helpless in the hands of the -soldiers. He knew quite well that the Sergeant was within his duty and -would certainly not get punished for this. Worse outrages than this -attempt on his august person had been committed in the Midlands on -important personages, on women and even children, during this terrible -campaign against fugitive rebels. - -Less than five seconds had elapsed when the soldier drew the packet of -letters from Sir Humphrey's pocket and handed it to his Sergeant. - -"They'd best be for His Royal Highness's own inspection," said the -latter, quietly, as he slipped them inside his scarlet coat. - -"Aye! for His Royal Highness!" quoth Jack Bathurst in mad, wild, -feverish glee. "Oh, now is it that your Honour thought you could be -even with me? What?" - -Sir Humphrey was speechless with the hopelessness of his baffled rage. -But Patience, almost hysterical with the intensity of her relief after -the terrible suspense which she had just endured, had fallen back half -fainting against the stairs, and murmuring,-- - -"The letters! ... Before His Royal Highness! ... Thank God! ... Thank -God!..." - -Then suddenly she drew herself up, and laughing, crying, joyous, happy, -she flew upstairs shouting,-- - -"Philip!--Philip!--come down!--come down! ... you are safe!..." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI - - THE AGONY OF PARTING - - -About half an hour ago, when Jack Bathurst suddenly burst in upon Lord -Stretton in the dingy little parlour upstairs, he gave the lad no -inkling of what was happening down below. He had hastily discarded Jock -Miggs's smock and hat and extracted a solemn promise from Philip not to -stir from the parlour, whatever might be the tumult downstairs. - -Then he had left the boy chafing like a wild beast in its cage. The -heavy oak doors and thick walls of the old-fashioned inn deadened all -the sounds from below, and Bathurst had taken the precaution of locking -the door behind him. But for this, no doubt Philip would have broken -his word, sooner than allow his chivalrous friend once more to risk his -life for him. - -As the noise below grew louder and louder, Stretton became more and more -convinced that some such scene as had been enacted a day or two ago at -the forge was being repeated in the hall of the Packhorse. He tried -with all his might to force open the door which held him imprisoned, and -threw his full weight against it once or twice, in a vain endeavour to -break the thick oaken panels. - -But the old door, fashioned of stout, well-seasoned wood, resisted all -his efforts, whilst the noise he made thereby never reached the ears of -the excited throng. - -Like a fettered lion he paced up and down the narrow floor of the dingy -inn parlour, chafing under restraint, humiliated at the thought of being -unable to join in the fight, that was being made for his safety. - -His sister's cry came to him in this agonising moment like the most -joyful, the most welcome call to arms. - -"The door! ... quick!..." he shouted as loudly as he could, "it is -locked!" - -She found the bolt and tore open the door, and the next instant he was -running downstairs, closely followed by Patience. - -The Sergeant and soldiers had been not a little puzzled at hearing her -ladyship suddenly calling in mad exultation on her brother, whom they -believed they were even now holding prisoner. - -The appearance of Philip at the foot of the stairs, and dressed in a -serving-man's suit, further enhanced their bewilderment. - -But already Patience stood proud, defiant, and almost feverish in her -excitement, confronting the astonished group of soldiers. - -"This, Sergeant!" she said, taking hold of her brother's hand, "is -Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, my brother. Arrest _him_ if you -wish, he surrenders to you willingly, but I call upon you to let your -prisoner go free." - -The Sergeant was sorely perplexed. The affair was certainly getting too -complicated for his stolid, unimaginative brain. He would have given -much to relinquish command of this puzzling business altogether. - -"Then you, sir," he said, addressing Philip, "you are the Earl of -Stretton?" - -"I am Philip James Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton, your prisoner, Sergeant," -replied the lad, proudly. - -"But then, saving your ladyship's presence," said the soldier, in -hopeless bewilderment, "who the devil is my prisoner?" - -"Surely, Sergeant," quoth Sir Humphrey, with a malicious sneer, "you've -guessed that already?" - -Jack Bathurst, exhausted and faint after his long fight and victory, had -listened motionless and silent to what was going on around him. With -the letters safely bestowed in the Sergeant's wallet and about to be -placed before His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland himself, he felt -that indeed his task was accomplished. - -Fate had allowed him the infinite happiness of having served his -beautiful white rose to some purpose. Philip now would be practically -safe; what happened to himself after that he cared but little. - -At sound of Sir Humphrey's malicious taunt, an amused smile played round -the corners of his quivering mouth; but Patience, with a rapid movement, -had interposed herself between Sir Humphrey and the Sergeant. - -"Your silence, Sir Humphrey," she commanded excitedly, "an you've any -chivalry left in you." - -"Aye!" he replied in her ear, "my silence now ... at a price." - -"Name it." - -"Your hand." - -So low and quick had been questions and answers that the bewildered -Sergeant and his soldiers had not succeeded in catching the meaning of -the words, but Sir Humphrey's final eager whisper, "Your hand!" reached -Jack Bathurst's sensitive ear. The look too in the Squire of -Hartington's face had already enabled him to guess the purport of the -brief colloquy. - -"Nay, Sir Humphrey Challoner," he said loudly, "but 'tis not a -marketable commodity you are offering to this lady for sale. I'll break -your silence for you. What is the information that you would impart to -these gallant lobsters? ... That besides being my mother's son I am also -the highwayman, Beau Brocade!" - -"No! no! no!" protested Patience, excitedly. - -"Odd's my life!" quoth the Sergeant, "but methought..." - -"Aye, Beau Brocade," said Sir Humphrey, with a sneer, "robber, vagabond -and thief, that's what this ... _gentleman_ means." - -"Faith! is that what I meant?" retorted Jack Bathurst, lightly. "I -didn't know it for sure!" - -But with a wild cry Patience had turned to the Sergeant. - -"It's a lie, Sergeant!" she repeated, "a lie, I tell you. This -gentleman is ... my friend ... my..." - -"Well, whichever you are, sir," quoth the Sergeant, turning to Beau -Brocade decisively, "rebel, lord or highwayman, you are my prisoner, -and," he added roughly, for many bitter remembrances of the past two -days had surged up in his stolid mind, "and either way you hang for it." - -"Aye! hang for it!" continued Sir Humphrey, savagely. "So, now -methinks, my chivalrous young friend, that we can cry quits at last. -And now, Sergeant," said his Honour, peremptorily, "that you've found -out the true character of your interesting prisoner, you can restore me -my letters, which he caused you to filch from me." - -But the Sergeant was not prepared to do that. He had been tricked and -hoodwinked so often, that he would not yield one iota of the advantage -which he had contrived to gain. - -"Your pardon, sir," he said deferentially yet firmly, "I don't exactly -know the rights o' that. I think I'd best show them to His Royal -Highness, and you, sir, will be good enough to explain yourself before -his Honour, Squire West." - -"You'll suffer for this insolence, Sergeant," retorted Sir Humphrey, -purple with rage. "I command you to return me those letters, and I warn -you that if you dare lay hands on me or hinder me in any way, I'll have -you degraded and publicly whipped along with that ape the beadle." - -But the Sergeant merely shrugged his shoulders and ordered off three of -his men to surround Sir Humphrey Challoner and to secure his hands if he -attempted to resist. His Honour's wild threats of revenge did not in -the least frighten the soldier, now that he felt himself on safe ground -at last. - -The rapid approach of the army gave him a sense of security; he knew -that if he had erred through excess of zeal, a reprimand would be the -only punishment meted out to him, whilst he risked being degraded if he -neglected his duty. Whether the Squire of Hartington had or had not -been a party to the late rebellion, he neither knew nor cared, but -certainly he was not going to give up a packet of letters over which -there had been so much heated discussion on both sides. - -The fast-approaching tumult in the street confirmed him in his resolve. -He turned a deaf ear to all Sir Humphrey's protestations, and only -laughed at his threats. - -Already the soldiers were chafing with eagerness to see the entry of His -Royal Highness with his staff: the village folk one by one had gone out -to see the more joyful proceedings, and left the Sergeant and his -prisoners to continue their animated discussion. - -"Are you ready, my lord?" asked the Sergeant, turning to Philip. - -"Quite ready!" replied the lad, cheerfully, as he prepared to follow the -soldiers. He gave his sister a look of joy and hope, for he was going -to temporary imprisonment only; within a few moments perhaps his safety -would be assured. Lady Patience Gascoyne, in virtue of her rank and -position, could easily obtain an audience of the Duke of Cumberland, and -in the meanwhile the letters proving Philip's innocence would have been -laid before His Royal Highness. No wonder that as the lad, marching -light-heartedly between two soldiers, passed close to Jack Bathurst, he -held out his hand to his brave rescuer in gratitude too deep for words. - -"Are you ready, sir?" quoth the Sergeant now, as he turned to Beau -Brocade. - -But here there was no question of either joy or hope: no defence, no -proofs of innocence. The daring outlaw had chosen his path in life, and -being conquered at the last, had to pay the extreme penalty which his -country demanded of him for having defied its laws. - -As he too prepared to follow the soldiers out into the open, Patience, -heedless of the men around her, clung passionately, despairingly to the -man who had sacrificed his brave life in her service, and whom she had -rewarded with the intensity, the magnitude of her love. - -"They shall not take you," she sobbed, throwing her protecting arms -round the dearly-loved form, "they shall not ... they shall not..." - -The cry had been so bitter, so terribly pathetic in its despair, that -instinctively the soldiers stood aside, awed in spite of their stolid -hearts at the majesty of this great sorrow; they turned respectfully -away, leaving a clear space round Patience and Bathurst. - -Thus for a moment he had her all to himself, passive in her despair, -half crazed with her grief, clinging to him with all the passionate -abandonment of her great love for him. - -"What? ... tears?" he whispered gently, as with a tender hand he pressed -back the graceful drooping head, and looked into her eyes, "one ... two -... three ... four glittering diamonds ... and for me! ... My sweet -dream!" he added, the intensity of his passion causing his low, tender -voice to quiver in his throat, "my beautiful white rose, but yesterday -for one of those glittering tears I'd gladly have endured hell's worst -tortures, and to-day they flow freely for me.... Why! I would not -change places with a King!" - -"Your life ... your brave, noble life ... thus sacrificed for me.... -Oh, why did I ever cross your path?" - -"Nay, my _dear_," he said with an infinity of tenderness, and an -infinity of joy. "Faith! it must have been because God's angels took -pity on a poor vagabond and let him get this early glimpse of paradise." - -His fingers wandered lovingly over her soft golden hair, he held her -close, very close to his heart, drinking in every line of her exquisite -loveliness, rendered almost ethereal through the magnitude of her -sorrow: her eyes shining with passion through her tears, the delicate -curve of throat and chin, the sensitive, quivering nostrils, the moist -lips on which anon he would dare to imprint a kiss. - -"And life now to me," she whispered 'twixt heart-broken sobs, "what will -it be? ... how shall I live but in one long memory?" - -"My life, my saint," he murmured. "Nay! lift your dear face up to me -again! let me take away as a last memory the radiant vision of your eyes -... your hair ... your lips..." - -His arms tightened round her, her head fell back as if in a swoon, she -closed her eyes and her soul went out to him in the ecstasy of that -first kiss. - -"Ah! it is a lovely dream I dreamt," he whispered, "and 'tis meet that -the awakening shall be only in death!" - -He tried to let her go but she clung to him passionately, her arms round -him, in the agony of her despair. - -"Take me with you," she sobbed, half fainting. "I cannot bear it ... I -cannot..." - -Gently he took hold of both her hands, and again and again pressed them -to his lips. - -"Farewell, sweet dream!" he said. "There! dry those lovely tears! ... -If you only knew how happy I am, you would not mourn for me.... I have -spun the one thread in life which was worth the spinning, the thread -which binds me to your memory.... Farewell!" - -The Sergeant stepped forward again. It was time to go. - -"Are you ready, sir?" he asked kindly. - -"Quite ready, Sergeant." - -She slid out of his arms, her eyes quite dry now, her hands pressed to -her mouth to smother her screams of misery. She watched the soldiers -fall into line, with their prisoner in their midst, and turn to the -doorway of the inn, through which the golden sunshine came gaily peeping -in. - -Outside a roll of drums was heard and shouts of "The Duke! The Duke!" -The excitement had become electrical. His Royal Highness, mounted on a -magnificent white charger, was making his entry into the village at the -head of his general staff, and followed at some distance by the bulk of -his army corps, who would camp on the Heath for the night. - -Squire West, his stiff old spine doubled in two, was in attendance on -the green, holding a parchment in his hand, which contained his loyal -address and that of the inhabitants of Brassington: the beadle, more -pompous than ever, and resplendent in blue cloth and gold lace, stood -immediately behind his Honour. - -In the midst of all this gaiety and joyful excitement the silent group, -composed of the soldiers with their three prisoners, appeared in strange -and melancholy contrast. Philip and Bathurst were to be confined in the -Court House, under a strong guard, pending his Honour the Squire's -decision, and as the little squad emerged upon the green, 'twas small -wonder that they caught His Royal Highness's eye. - -He had been somewhat bored by Squire West's long-winded harangue, and -was quite glad of an excuse for cutting it short. - -"Odd's buds!" he said, "and what have we here? Eh?" - -The Sergeant and soldiers stood still at attention, some twenty yards -away from the brilliant group of His Highness's general staff. The -little diversion had caused Squire West to lose the thread of his -speech, and much relieved, the Duke beckoned the Sergeant to draw -nearer. - -"Who are your prisoners, Sergeant?" queried His Highness, looking with -some interest at the two young men, one of whom was a mere lad, whilst -the other had a strange look of joy and pride in his pale face, an air -of aloofness and detachment from all his surroundings, which puzzled and -interested the Duke not a little. - -"'Tis a bit difficult to explain, your Royal Highness," replied the -Sergeant, making the stiff military salute. - -"Difficult to explain who your prisoners are?" laughed the Duke, -incredulously. - -"Saving your Highness's presence," responded the Sergeant, "one of these -gentlemen is Philip Gascoyne, Earl of Stretton." - -"Oho! the young reprobate rebel who was hand-in-glove with the -Pretender! I mind his case well, Sergeant, and the capture does your -zeal great credit. Which of your prisoners is the Earl of Stretton?" - -"That's just my trouble, your Royal Highness. But I hope that these -papers will explain." - -And the Sergeant drew from his wallet the precious packet of letters and -handed them respectfully to the Duke. - -"What are these letters?" - -"They were found on the person of that gentleman, sir," replied the -Sergeant, indicating Sir Humphrey Challoner, who stood behind the two -younger men, silent and sulky, and nursing desperate thoughts of -revenge. "He is said to be an accomplice and I thought 'twas my duty to -bring him before a magistrate. If I've done wrong...". - -"You've done quite right, Sergeant," said the Duke, firmly. "You were -sent here to rid the country of rebels, whom an Act of Parliament has -convicted of high treason, and it had been gross neglect of duty not to -refer such a case to the nearest magistrate. Give me the papers, I'll -look through them anon. See your prisoners safely under guard, then -come back to my quarters." - -"Damnation!" muttered Sir Humphrey, as he saw the Duke take the packet -of letters from the Sergeant's hand, and then turn away to listen to the -fag end of Squire West's loyal address. - -Throughout his chagrin, however, the Squire of Hartington was able to -gloat over one comforting idea. He had now lost all chance of pressing -his suit on Lady Patience, his actions in the past three days would -inevitably cause her to look upon him with utter hatred and contempt, -but the man who was the cause of his failure, the chivalrous and -meddlesome highwayman, Beau Brocade, would, as sure as the sun would set -this night, dangle on the nearest gibbet to-morrow. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII - - REPARATION - - -It was in the middle of the afternoon when His Royal Highness, having -attended to other important affairs, and partaken of a hasty meal at the -Royal George, finally found leisure to look through the letters handed -up to him by the Sergeant. - -As he read one through, and then the other, Lord Lovat's letter urging -the Earl of Stretton to join the rebellion, that of Kilmarnock -upbraiding the lad for holding aloof, and finally the autograph of -Charles Edward himself at the end of a long string of reproaches, -calling Philip a traitor for his loyalty to King George,-- - -"There has been a terrible blunder here!" quoth His Royal Highness, -emphatically. "Bring the Earl of Stretton to me at once," he added, -speaking to his orderly. - -Ten minutes later Philip, with Patience by his side, was in the presence -of the Duke of Cumberland, who, on behalf of his country and its -government, was tendering apologies to the Earl of Stretton for grievous -blunders committed. - -"It seems you have suffered unjustly, my lord," said His Highness, with -easy graciousness. "It will be my privilege to keep you under my -personal protection until these letters have been placed before the King -and Council." - -"I myself will guarantee your brother's safety, Lady Patience," he -added, turning with a genial smile to her; "you will entrust him to my -care, will you not? Your father and I were old friends, you know. In -my young days I had the pleasure of staying at Stretton Hall, and the -privilege of dandling you on my knees, for you were quite a baby then. -I little thought I should have the honour of being of service to you in -later years." - -With courtly gallantry the Duke raised her cold finger-tips to his lips. -He looked at her keenly, for he could not understand the almost dead -look of hopeless misery in her face which she bravely, but all in vain, -tried to hide from him. Evidently she was quite unable to speak. When -her brother had been brought before His Highness she had begged for and -easily obtained the favour of being present at the interview, but even -at the Duke's most genial and encouraging words she had not smiled. - -"It was lucky," added His Royal Highness, kindly patting her hand, "that -so strange a Fate should have placed these letters in my hand." - -But at these gentle, almost fatherly words, Patience's self-control -entirely gave way. With a heart-broken sob she threw herself at the -Duke's feet. - -"Nay! not Fate, your Royal Highness," she moaned, "but the devotion of a -brave man, who has sacrificed his life to save my brother and me... Save -him, your Highness! ... save him! ... he is noble, brave, loyal, and you -are powerful ... save him! ... save him!..." - -It was impossible to listen unmoved to the heart-rending sorrow -expressed in this appeal. The Duke very gently raised her to her feet. - -"Nay, fair lady ... I pray you rise," he said respectfully. "Odd's my -life! but 'tis not beauty's place to kneel.... There! there!" he added, -leading her to a chair and sitting beside her, "you know how to plead a -cause; will you deign to confide somewhat more fully in your humble -servant? We owe your family some reparation at anyrate, and you some -compensation for the sorrow you have endured." - -And speaking very low at first, then gradually gaining confidence, -Patience began to relate the history of the past few days, the -treachery, of which she had been a victim, the heroic self-sacrifice of -the man who was about to lay down his life because of his devotion to -her and to her cause. - -His Highness listened quietly and very attentively, whilst she, wrapped -up in the bitter joy of memory, lived through these last brief and happy -days all over again. Even before she had finished, he had sent word to -the Sergeant to bring both his other prisoners before him at once. - -Sir Humphrey and Jack Bathurst were actually in the room before Patience -had quite completed her narrative. Bathurst ill and pale, but with that -strange air of aloofness still clinging about his whole person. He -seemed scarce to live, for his mind was far away in the land of dreams, -dwelling on that last exquisite memory of his beautiful white rose lying -passive in his arms, the memory of that first and last, divinely -passionate kiss. - -The Duke looked up when the prisoners entered the room; although he knew -neither of them by sight, he had no need to ask whose cause the -beautiful girl beside him had been pleading so earnestly. - -"What do you wish to say, sir?" he said, addressing Sir Humphrey -Challoner first. "You are no doubt aware of her ladyship's grievances -against you. They are outside my province, and unfortunately outside -the province of our country's justice. But I would wish to know why you -should have pursued the Earl of Stretton and that gentleman, your -fellow-prisoner, with so much hatred and malice." - -"I have neither hatred nor malice against the Earl of Stretton," replied -Sir Humphrey, with a shrug of the shoulders, "but no doubt her ladyship -would wish to arouse your Royal Highness's sympathy for a notorious -scoundrel. That gentleman is none other than Beau Brocade, the most -noted footpad and most consummate thief that ever haunted Brassing -Moor." - -The Duke of Cumberland looked with some surprise, not altogether unmixed -with kindliness, at the slim, youthful figure of the most notorious -highwayman in England. He felt all a soldier's keen delight in the -proud bearing of the man, the straight, clean limbs, the upright, -gallant carriage of the head, which neither physical pain nor adverse -circumstances had taught how to bend. - -Then he remembered Lady Patience's enthusiastic narrative, and said, -smiling indulgently,-- - -"Odd's my life! but I did not know gentlemen of the road were so -chivalrous!" - -"Your Royal Highness..." continued Sir Humphrey. - -"Silence, sir!" - -Then the Duke rose from his chair, and went up close to Bathurst, who, -half-dreaming, had listened to all that was going on around him, but had -scarce heard, for he was looking at Patience and thinking only of her. - -"Your name, sir?" asked the Duke very kindly, for the look of love akin -to worship which illumined Jack Bathurst's face had made a strong appeal -to his own manly heart. - -"Jack Bathurst," replied the young man, almost mechanically, and rousing -himself with an effort in response to the Duke's kind words, "formerly -captain in the White Dragoons." - -"Bathurst? ... Bathurst?" repeated the Duke, not a little puzzled. "Ah, -yes!" he added after a slight pause, "who was condemned and cashiered -for striking his superior officer after a quarrel." - -"The same, your Royal Highness." - -"'Twas Colonel Otway, who, we found out afterwards, was a scoundrel, a -liar, and a cheat," said His Highness with sudden eager enthusiasm, "and -fully deserving the punishment you, sir, had been brave enough to give -him." - -"Aye! he deserved all he got," replied Jack, with a wistful sigh and -smile, "I'll take my oath of that." - -"But ... I remember now," continued the Duke, "a tardy reparation was to -have been offered you, sir ... but you were nowhere to be found." - -"I'd become a scoundrel myself by then, and moneyless, friendless, -disgraced, had taken to the road, like many another broken gentleman." - -"Then take to the field now, man," exclaimed His Highness, gaily. "We -want good soldiers and gallant gentlemen such as you, and your country -still owes you reparation. You shall come with me, and in the glorious -future which I predict for you, England shall forget your past." - -He extended a kindly hand to Bathurst, who, still dreaming, still not -quite realising what had happened, instinctively bent the knee in -gratitude. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVIII - - THE JOY OF RE-UNION - - -On the green outside, the crowd of village folk were shouting themselves -hoarse,-- - -"Three cheers for the Duke of Cumberland!" - -Already the news had gone the round that Beau Brocade, the highwayman, -had been granted a special pardon by His Royal Highness. - -John Stich, half crazy with joy, was tossing his cap in the air, and in -the fulness of his heart was stealing a few kisses from Mistress Betty's -pretty mouth. - -The appearance of Sir Humphrey Challoner in the porch of the Royal -George, looking as black as thunder and followed by his obsequious -familiar, Master Mittachip, was the signal for much merriment and some -quickly-suppressed chaff. - -"Stand aside, you fool!" quoth Sir Humphrey, pushing Jock Miggs roughly -out of his way. - -"Nay, stand aside all of ye!" admonished John Stich, solemnly, "and mind -if any of ye've got any turnips about ... be gy!..." - -The Squire of Hartington raised his riding-crop menacingly. - -"You dare!" he muttered. - -But Mistress Betty interposed her pretty person 'twixt her lover and his -Honour's wrath. - -"Saving your presence, sir," she said pertly, "my intent was only going -to tell the lads to keep their turnips for this old scarecrow." - -And laughing all over her dimpled little face she pointed to Master -Mittachip, who was clinging terrified to Sir Humphrey's coat-tails. - -"Sir Humphrey..." he murmured anxiously, as Betty's sally was received -with a salvo of applause, "good Sir Humphrey ... do not let them harm -me.... I've served you faithfully..." - -"You've served me like a fool," quoth Sir Humphrey, savagely, shaking -himself free from the mealy-mouthed attorney. "Damn you," he added, as -he walked quickly out of the crowd and across the green, "don't yap at -my heels like a frightened cur." - -"God speed your Honour," shouted Stich after him. - -"Think you, John, he'll come to our wedding?" murmured Betty, saucily, -at which honest John hugged her with all his might before the entire -company. - -"Be gy! I marvel if the old fox'll go to her ladyship's and the -Captain's wedding, eh?" - -"Lordy! Lordy! these be 'mazing times," commented Jock Miggs, vaguely. - ----- - -But within the small parlour of the Royal George all this noise and -gaiety only came as a faint, merry echo. - -His Royal Highness had gone, followed by the Sergeant and soldiers, and -Bathurst was alone with his beautiful white rose. - -"And 'tis to you I owe my life," he whispered for the twentieth time, as -kneeling at her feet he buried his head in the folds of her gown. - -"I have done so little," she murmured, "one poor prayer ... when you had -done so much." - -"And now," he said, looking straight into the exquisite depths of her -blue eyes, "now you have robbed me of one great happiness, which may -never come to me again." - -"Robbed you? ... of happiness?..." - -"The happiness of dying for you." - -But she looked down at him, smiling now through a mist of happy tears. - -"Nay, sir," she whispered, "and when the Duke has no longer need of you, -will you not live ... for me?" - -He folded her in his arms, and held her closely, very closely to his -strong, brave heart. - -"Always at your feet," he murmured passionately, "and as your humble -slave, my dream." - -And as his lips sought hers once more, she whispered under her breath,-- - -"My husband!" - -"My dream!--My wife!" - ----- - -Outside the crowd of villagers were shouting lustily,-- - -"Three cheers for the Duke of Cumberland!" - - - - - L. 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