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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7326-h.zip b/7326-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01bafe9 --- /dev/null +++ b/7326-h.zip diff --git a/7326-h/7326-h.htm b/7326-h/7326-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd61db0 --- /dev/null +++ b/7326-h/7326-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19737 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> +<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Yeoman Adventurer, by George W. Gough</TITLE> +<META HTTP-EQUIV="content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; background-color: white} +img {border: 0;} +h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center;} +.ind {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} +hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} +--> +</style> +</HEAD> +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yeoman Adventurer, by George W. Gough + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Yeoman Adventurer + +Author: George W. Gough + +Posting Date: August 4, 2012 [EBook #7326] +Release Date: January, 2005 +First Posted: April 14, 2003 +Last Updated: October 2, 2005 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER *** + + + + +Produced by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> + +<h1>The Yeoman Adventurer</h1> + +<h2>By George Gough</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<center>To</center> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>A. D. Steel-Maitland, M.P.</h3> + +<h3>In Gratitude and Admiration</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div align="center"> + +<p> +<a href="#1">I. THE GREAT JACK</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#2">II. THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#3">III. MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#4">IV. OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#5">V. THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#6">VI. MY LORD BROCTON</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#7">VII. THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#8">VIII. THE CONJURER'S CAP</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#9">IX. MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#10">X. SULTAN</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#11">XI. IN WHICH I SLIP</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#12">XII. THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN"</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#13">XIII. PHARAOH'S KINE</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#14">XIV. "WAR HAS ITS RISKS"</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#15">XV. IN THE MOORLANDS</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#16">XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#17">XVII. MY NEW HAT</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#18">XVIII. THE DOUBLE SIX</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#19">XIX. WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#20">XX. THE COUNCIL AT DERBY</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#21">XXI. MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#22">XXII. A BROTHER OF THE LAMP</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#23">XXIII. DONALD</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#24">XXIV. MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#25">XXV. I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#26">XXVI. THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN</a> +</p> + +<p> +<a href="#epilogue">EPILOGUE: THE LITTLE JACK</a> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +</div> + +<h2><a name="1">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<h3>THE GREAT JACK</h3> + +<p> +Our Kate, Joe Braggs, and I all had a hand in the beginning, and as great +results grew in the end out of the small events of that December morning, +I will set them down in order. +</p> + +<p> +It began by my refusing point-blank to take Kate to the vicar's to watch +the soldiers march by. I loved the vicar, the grave, sweet, childless old +man who had been a second father to me since the sad day which made my +mother a widow, and but for the soldiers nothing would have been more +agreeable than to spend the afternoon with the old man and his books. But +my heart would surely have broken had I gone. A caged linnet is a sorry +enough sight in a withdrawing-room, but hang the cage on a tree in a +sunlit garden, with free birds twittering and flitting about it, and you +turn dull pain into shattering agony. The vicar's little study, with the +rows of books he had made me know and love with some small measure of his +own learning and passion, was the perch and seed-bowl of my cage, the +things in it, after my sweet mother and saucy Kate, that made life +possible, but still part of the cage, and it would have maddened me to hop +and twitter there in sight of free men with arms in their hands and +careers in front of them. Jack Dobson would march by, the sweetness of +life for Kate--little dreamed she that I knew it--but for me the +bitterness of death. Jack Dobson! I liked Jack, but not clinquant in +crimson and gold, with spurs and sword clanking on the hard, frost-bitten +road. I laughed at the idea; Jack Dobson, whom I had fought time and time +again at school until I could lick him as easily as I could look at him; +Jack Dobson, a jolly enough lad, who fought cheerily even when he knew a +sound thrashing was in store for him, but all his brains were good for was +to stumble through <i>Arma virumque cano</i>, and then whisper, "Noll, you +can fire a gun and shoot a man, but how can you sing 'em?" And because his +thin, shadowy, grasping father was a man of much outward substance and +burgess for the ancient borough, Jack was cornet in my Lord Brocton's +newly raised regiment of dragoons, this day marching with other of the +Duke of Cumberland's troops from Lichfield to Stafford. And for me, the +pride of old Bloggs for Latin and of all the lads for fighting, the most +stirring deed of arms available was shooting rabbits. So, consuming +inwardly with thoughts of my hard fate, I refused to go to the vicar's. +Mother should go. For her it would be a real treat, and Kate would be the +better under her quiet, seeing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Well then," said Kate, "grump at home over your beastly Virgil." Mother, +who understood as only mothers can, said nothing, and prepared my +favourite dishes for dinner. +</p> + +<p> +The meal over, and the house-place 'tidied,' which seldom meant more than +the harassing of a few stray specks of dust, Kate in her best fripperies +and mother in her churchgoing gown started for the vicar's. I stood in the +porch and watched them across the cobbled yard and along the road till +they dropped out of sight beyond the bridge. +</p> + +<p> +Then Kate's share of these introductory events became manifest. Search +high, search low, there was no sign of my dear, dumpy Virgil, in yellowing +parchment with red edges. I found Kate's cookery-book, and would have +flung it through the window, but my eye caught the quaint inscription on +the fly-leaf, in her big, pot-hooky handwriting: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "KATHERINE WHEATMAN, her book,<br> + God give her grease to larn to cook. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + At the Hanyards.<br> + Jul. 1739." +</p> + +<p> +The simple words stung me like angry hornets. Our red-headed Kate was no +scholar, but at any rate her reading was more useful in our little world +than mine; for this was where she learned the artistry of the dainties and +devices Jack Dobson and I were so fond of. And if I did not soon learn to +do something well, even were it only how to farm my five hundred acres to +a profit, Kate's cooking would really require the miraculous aid suggested +in her unintentional and, to me, biting epigram. I put the book down, and +gave over the hunt for my Virgil. It would probably be useless in any +case, since Kate had a cunning all her own, and had surely bestowed it far +beyond any searching of mine. I contented myself with a fair reprisal, +stowing a stray ribbon of hers in my breeches' pocket, and sat down to +smoke. My pipe would not draw, and I smashed it in trying to make it. +</p> + +<p> +The tall oak clock tick-tocked on in the house-place, and Jane sang on at +her churning in the dairy across the yard. I sat gazing at the fire, where +I could see nothing but Jack Dobson in his martial grandeur, and I hated +him for his greatness, and despised myself for my pettiness. All the same +it was unendurable, and it was a relief to see Joe Braggs tiptoeing +carefully across the yard dairywards. The rascal should have been patching +a gap in the hedge of Ten-acres, and here he was, foraging for a jug of +ale. He could wheedle Jane as easily as he could snare a rabbit, but I +would scarify him out of his five senses, the hulk. +</p> + +<p> +The singing stopped, and then the churning, and five minutes later I +crept up to the kitchen door, which was ajar. There was my lord Joe, a jug +of ale in hand, his free arm round Jane's neck. How endurable these two +found life at the Hanyards! I caught a fragment of their gossip. +</p> + +<p> +"Be there such things as rale quanes, Jin?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," she replied. "There's pictures of 'em in one of Master +Noll's books. Crowns on their yeds, too." +</p> + +<p> +"There's one on 'em down 'tour house, Jin, but she ain't got no crown. +But bless thee, wench, I'd sooner kiss thee than look at fifty quanes." +</p> + +<p> +Jane yelped as I murdered an incipient kiss by knocking the jug out of +his hand across the kitchen, but in kicking him out of doors I tripped +over a bucket of water, and about half a score fine dace flopped miserably +on the wet floor. +</p> + +<p> +"Dunna carry on a' that'n, Master Noll," said Joe. "I only com' up t'ouse +to bring you them daceys." +</p> + +<p> +"And what the devil do I want with them?" said I angrily. +</p> + +<p> +Joe knew me. He said, "There's a jack as big as a gate-post in that 'ole +between the reeds along th' 'igh bonk." +</p> + +<p> +He saw the cock of my eye, and went on: "I saw 'im this mornin', an' +'eard 'im. 'E made a splosh like a sack o' taters droppin' off the bridge. +So I just copped 'e a few daceys, thinkin' as you'd be sure to go after +'im." +</p> + +<p> +"Put them in some fresh water, Joe, and you, Jane, fill him another jug. +I'll own up to Mistress Kate for smashing the other." +</p> + +<p> +I fetched my rod and tackle, picked up the bucket of dace, and set off +across the fields to the river. The bank nearer the house, and about three +hundred yards from it, stood from two to six feet above the water, being +lowest where a brick bridge carried the road to the village. The opposite +bank was very low, and was fringed in summer with great masses of reeds +and bulrushes, now withered down nearly to nothing, but still showing the +pocket of deep water where the jack had "sploshed like a sack o' taters." +It was opposite the highest part of our bank--the Hanyards was bounded by +the river in this direction--and the bridge was about one hundred yards +down-stream to my left. In a few minutes a fine dace was swimming in the +gap as merrily as the tackle would let him. +</p> + +<p> +For an hour or more I took short turns up and down the bank, just far +enough from the edge to keep my cork in view. If the jack was there, he +made no sign, and at length my sportsman's eagerness began to flag, and my +eye roamed across the meadows to the church spire, under the shadow of +which life as I could never know it was lilting merrily northwards. Here I +was and here I should remain, like a cabbage, till Death pulled me up by +the roots. +</p> + +<p> +Worthy Master Walton says that angling is the contemplative man's +recreation, and, having had in these later years much to con over in my +mind, I know that he is right. But it is no occupation for a fuming man, +and as I marched up and down I forgot all about my cork, till, with a +short laugh that had the tail of a curse in it, I noted that a real gaff +was a silly weapon with which to cut down an imaginary Highlander, and +turned again to my angling. +</p> + +<p> +And at that very moment a thing happened the like of which I had never +seen before, and have not since seen in another ten years of fishing. My +rod was jerked clean off the bank, and careered away down-stream so fast +that I had to run hard to get level with it. Here was work indeed, and at +that joyous moment I would not have changed places with Jack Dobson. +Without ado, I jumped into the river, waded out, recovered the butt of my +rod, and struck. +</p> + +<p> +"As big as a gate-post." Joe was right. As I struck, the jack came to the +surface. The great stretch of yellow belly and the monstrous length of +vicious snout made my heart leap for joy. I would rather land him than +command a regiment. My rod bent to a sickle as I fought him, giving him +line and pulling in, again, again, and again. A dozen times I saw the +black bars on his shimmering back as he came at me, evil in his red-rimmed +eyes and danger in his cruel teeth, but the stout tackle stood it out. +Sweat poured off my forehead though I was up to the waist in ice-cold +water. Inch by inch I fought my way to the bank, and then fought on again +to get close to the bridge, where I could scramble out. +</p> + +<p> +Probably I was half an hour in getting him there, but at last, by giving +him suddenly a dozen yards of loose line to go at, I was able to climb on +to the bank and check him before he got across to the stumps of the reeds. +But here I met with disaster, for in climbing up I jerked the hook of my +gaff out of my collar, where I had put it for safety, and it fell into the +stream. +</p> + +<p> +"Stick to the fish," said some one behind me, "and leave the hook to me." +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks," said I briefly, for I was scant of breath, and continued the +struggle. +</p> + +<p> +A woman knelt on the bank, pulled the gaff in with a riding whip, plunged +down a shapely hand and recovered it. Then she stood behind me, watching +the fight. The jack, big and strong as he was, began to tire, and soon I +had him making short, sharp spurts in the shallow water at our feet. +</p> + +<p> +My new ally stood quietly on the bank, holding the gaff ready for the +right moment. It came: a deft movement, a good pull together, and the +great jack curled and bounced on the bank. +</p> + +<p> +"Over thirty pounds if he's an ounce!" I cried gleefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Well done, fisherman!" she said. "It was a splendid sight. I've watched +you all along. When you jumped into the river, I thought you were going to +drown yourself. You had been walking up and down in a most desperate and +dejected fashion." +</p> + +<p> +The raillery gave me courage to look into her eyes. I wondered if they +were black, but decided that they were not, since her hair was the colour +of wheat when it is ripening for the sickle and the summer sun falls on it +at eve. And I, who am six feet in my socks, had hardly to lower my eyes to +look into hers. Her face was beautiful beyond all imagining of mine. I had +conjured up visions of Dido enthralled of Aeneas, of Cleopatra bending +Antony to her whim. But the conscious art of my day-dreams had wrought no +such marvel as here I saw in very flesh before me. I felt as one who +drinks deep of some rich and rare vintage, and wonders why the gods have +blessed him so. And further, as small things jostle big things in the +mind, I knew that this was the real queen that had dazzled Joe Braggs. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you call it?" she said, looking down at the fish. +</p> + +<p> +"A jack, or pike, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"'The tyrant of the watery plains,' as Mr. Pope calls him. You've heard +of Mr. Pope, the poet?" She spoke as if 'No' was the inevitable answer. +</p> + +<p> +"Strictly speaking, no, madam," said I gravely, "but I have read his +so-called poems." She frowned. "Horace calls the jack," I continued, +"<i>lupus</i>, the wolf-fish, as one may say, and a very good name too. +Doubtless madam has heard of Horace." +</p> + +<p> +My quip brought a glint into her eyes and a richer colour to her cheek. +"Yes, heard of him," she said, with a trace of chagrin in her voice. "And +now, O Nimrod of the watery plains, how far is it to the village smithy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just under a mile, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"And how long does it take to shoe a horse?" +</p> + +<p> +"How many shoes, madam?" +</p> + +<p> +Again the glint in her eyes, and this time I saw some of the blue in +them. "One, sir," she said shortly. +</p> + +<p> +"Ten to fifteen minutes, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"He's a very long time," she said under her breath. +</p> + +<p> +"The smith is probably very busy to-day." +</p> + +<p> +"Busy! Why so?" +</p> + +<p> +"The dragoons may have found him much work," said I, merely my way of +explaining the delay. But the words stabbed her. She laid a hand on my arm +and cried gaspingly, "Dragoons! What do you mean? Quick!" +</p> + +<p> +"The Duke of Cumberland is marching north from Lichfield against the +Stuart, and Lord Brocton's dragoons are in the village." +</p> + +<p> +"Brocton! O God! Brocton! My father is taken! And by Brocton!" She spoke +aloud in her agitation, and I saw that she was cut to the quick. And I +rejoiced, so strange is the human heart, that it was Lord Brocton's name +that came in anguish off her tongue. Oh for one blow at the man whose +father had harried mine into an untimely grave! +</p> + +<p> +In sharp, frosty air sound travels far across the meadows of the +Hanyards. The hills that hem the valley to the west perhaps act as a +sounding board. Anyhow, further inquiry as to her trouble was stopped by +the rattle of distant hoofs. We were standing now less than a dozen paces +from the bridge. A straggling hedge, on a low bank, crossed flush up to +the bridge by a stile, cut the field off from the road. I rushed to the +stile, and cautiously pushed my head through near the ground. Half a mile +of level road stretched to my right towards the village, and along it, and +now less than six hundred yards away, a squad of dragoons was galloping +towards us. The hedge was thin and leafless, and there was not cover +enough for a rabbit. I ran back. "Dragoons," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"After me," she replied carelessly, and I saw that danger for herself +left her cold. +</p> + +<p> +I kicked the great jack motionless, flung him to the foot of the bank +under the hedge, and the rod after him, hurried her up to the stile, +leaped into the water, took her in my arms, and carried her under the +bridge. In less than a minute after I stopped wading, the dragoons +clattered overhead. +</p> + +<p> +Not an hour ago I had been aching for life and adventures, and here I +was, up to the loins in water, with a goddess in my arms. Her right arm +was round my neck, and her cheek so near that I felt her sweet, warm +breath fanning my own. As the sounds died away, I turned and looked at her +face, and I had my reward. Her eyes told me that she thanked and trusted +me. +</p> + +<p> +"Well done, fisherman!" she said for the second time. +</p> + +<p> +"You're heavier than the jack," replied I, hitching her as far from the +water as possible before wading back. A minute later I put her down on the +bank with tumbled, yellow hair and face flaming red. I examined her +critically, and cried triumphantly, "Not a stitch wet!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="2">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<h3>THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS</h3> + +<p> +I threw the jack across my shoulder and we started for the Hanyards. +Madam offered no explanations, and I made no inquiries. It was obvious to +me that the dragoons had gone on to the little hedge ale-house, a good, +long mile away, where the road from the village struck into a roundabout +road to Stafford. Here, in the "Bull and Mouth," Mother Braggs ruled by +day and Master Joe by night, and here beyond a doubt the stranger lady had +tarried while her father had gone on with the horses to the nearest smithy +at Milford. +</p> + +<p> +There was ample time to get to the Hanyards, but still, for safety's +sake, we kept behind hedges as far as possible. She walked ahead, and I +followed behind, water oozing out of my boots and breeches at every step, +and the jack's tail flopping against my legs. Never had I gone home from +fishing with such prizes. What pleased me most was her silence. It matched +the trust in her eyes. Except for brief instructions as to the direction, +no word passed until we gained the Hanyards from the rear, and I led her +into the house-place unobserved by anyone. +</p> + +<p> +"There is little time to talk," I began. "The dragoons are certain to +come here, as this is the only house between the inn and the village. Your +father is, you fear, a prisoner, and indeed it seems the only explanation +of his absence. I do not ask why. I gather that there is no purpose to be +served by your sharing his fate." +</p> + +<p> +"Free, I may be able to help him. A prisoner, I should...." She stopped, +hesitating. +</p> + +<p> +"My Lord Brocton?" said I interrogatively. For the second time her face +burned, and I saw in it shame and distress and fear. My lord was piling up +a second account with me, and for humbling this proud beauty he should one +day pay the price in full. +</p> + +<p> +But it was time to act. I ran to the porch and roared out, "Jane! Jane! +Where are you? Come here quick!" +</p> + +<p> +Jane came running in from the kitchen. She stopped dead with surprise +when she saw my companion, and could not even cackle on about the jack. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Jane, do exactly what I say. Take this lady upstairs and dress her +as nearly like yourself as you can. It's good you are much of a height. +Pack her own clothes carefully out of sight. Off, quick!" +</p> + +<p> +They disappeared upstairs, and I watched the yard gate with eager eyes. +No dragoons appeared, and in a short time madam and Jane were back in the +house-place. Jane had done her work well. The great lady was now a fine +country serving-wench, her shapeliness obscured in a homespun gown that +fitted only where it touched, her feet in huge, rough boots, her yellow +hair plastered back off her forehead and bunched into one of Jane's +'granny caps,' and indeed totally hidden by the large flap thereof, which +in Jane's case served the purpose of "keepin' the draf out'n 'er +neck-hole" when she was at work in the dairy. For my share of disguising, +I now rubbed together some ruddle and dry soil, and the mixture gave a +necessary touch of coarseness to her hands. Altogether she was changed out +of recognition, even if, which was not the case, any of her pursuers had +seen her previously. +</p> + +<p> +"Jane," said I, "her name is Molly Brown. She has served here two years. +Her mother lives at Colwich. Have you both got that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Molly Brown--two years--mother at Colwich," said madam with a smile, and +Jane repeated it after her. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Molly," said I, with an answering smile, "Jane will start you +churning. It's an easy job. You just turn a handle till the butter comes. +Do not flatter yourself that you'll get any butter, but I'll forgive you +that. And, having learned from Jane how to pretend to do it, you need not +churn in earnest till the dragoons ride into the yard. Listen to Jane, and +you, Jane, for the next ten minutes, teach the lady how to talk +Staffordshire fashion." +</p> + +<p> +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said Jane, who was plainly bursting with the +importance of her task. +</p> + +<p> +"First lesson, madam," said I. "'Rate y'are,' not 'Right you are!' It was +not Mr. Pope's manner of speech, but it will suit your circumstances +better. Off to the dairy, and leave the dragoons to me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said madam, and, our anxieties +notwithstanding, we both joined in Jane's rattle of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +They went off to the dairy, and I began my own preparations. I displayed +the great jack in full view on the table, forestalling Kate's housewifely +objections by disposing him on an old coat of mine, so that he should not +mess the table. In the house-place he looked much finer and longer than in +the open air, and I gloated over him as he lay there. I longed to change +my clothes, not so much for comfort's sake as to cut a better figure in +her eyes; but I dared not run the risk of not being at hand when the +dragoons arrived. I drew a quart jug of ale, threw most of it away, got +down a horn drinking-cup, drank a little, spilled some down my clothes, +slopped some on the table, made up the fire, and sat down to wait. It was +now about half-past three, the straw-coloured sun was perching on the +hill-tops, and darkness would soon be drawing on apace. +</p> + +<p> +For perhaps a quarter of an hour I sat there, living over again the +precious minutes under the bridge, when the clatter of hoofs awakened me +to the realities of the situation. Peeping cautiously past the edge of the +blind, I saw the dragoons--there were six of them--ride up to the gate. +Sharp orders rang out, and three of the men dismounted, including him who +had given the orders, and came up the yard. One stayed at the gate to mind +the horses, and the other two trotted off on the scout round the fields +near the farm. +</p> + +<p> +I slipped back to my chair, and let my chin drop on my chest, as if I +were dozing in drink. +</p> + +<p> +Some one said at the porch door, "In the King's name!" I took no notice, +and they crowded, jingling and noisy, into the porch. Again sharp commands +were given; the two men grounded their arms with a clang on the stone +floor of the porch, and waited there. The man in command stepped forward +into the firelight and said crisply, "In the King's name!" +</p> + +<p> +It was idle to pretend any longer. I raised my head and blinked drunkenly +at him. Then I filled the horn, sang thickly and with beery gusto, "Here's +a health unto His Majesty," and said, "Fill up and drink, whoever you are, +and shut the door. It's damned cold." +</p> + +<p> +He had little, red, ferrety eyes, and they looked fiercely at +me--fiercely but not suspiciously, I thought. He waved my hospitality +aside, and said, "You are Oliver Wheatman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, Esquire, at His Majesty's service to +command," I replied with great gravity, and filled another horn of ale. I +might pretend to be drunk, but I could not, unfortunately, pretend to +drink, and it was strongish ale. He made a motion to stop me--welcome +proof that he believed me tipsy in fact--and said, "Master Wheatman, the +less drunken you are, the better you will answer my questions." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, draining off the horn, "I can drink and talk with any man +living, and, drunk or sober, I only answer the questions of my friends. So +get a horn off the dresser--I'm a bit tired--fill up, and tell me what you +want. D'you happen to be of my Lord Brocton's regiment?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am." +</p> + +<p> +"Then you'll be as drunk as me before you've finished with the Hanyards. +Our ale goes to the head most damnably quick, let me tell you. You tell my +dear old butty, the worshipful Master Jack Dobson, that I've caught a jack +half as thick and more than half as long as himself. Here it be. Fetch a +horn, I tell you, and drink to me and the two jacks--Jack Dobson and this +jack beauty here." +</p> + +<p> +He was getting no nearer to the object of his visit, and, perhaps +thinking it would be well to humour me, he fetched a horn and tried our +Hanyards ale. This gave me a chance of taking stock of him. +</p> + +<p> +He was a thin, wiry man of middle height and middle age. Such a face I +had never seen. The first sight of it made me suck in my breath as if I +had touched the edge of a razor. The bridge half of his nose had gone, or +he had never had it, and the lower half was stuck like a dab of putty +midway between mouth and eyebrows. His little, beady eyes were set in +large, shallow sockets, giving him an owl-like appearance. A mouth +originally large enough, and thickly lipped like a negro's, had been +extended, as it seemed, to his left ear by a savage sword slash which had +healed very badly. He had an air of mean, perky intelligence, as of one of +low rank and no breeding who had for many years been accustomed to cringe +to the great and domineer over smaller fry than himself. Some sort of +military rank he had, judging by his stained and frayed but once gaudy +jacket. He carried a tuck of unusual length, stretching along his left +side from heel to armpit, and a couple of pistols were stuck in his belt. +</p> + +<p> +He put down the horn, smacked his lips, and began: +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman, I am searching for a Jacobite spy--a woman. We took her +father up at the 'Barley Mow,' and I learned from a man of yours that the +daughter was at his mother's ale-house down the road. She is not there, +and left to walk to meet her father, she said. She has certainly not done +that, and I have called to see if she is hiding here or hereabouts." +</p> + +<p> +"By gad, we'll nab her if she is," said I heartily. "She's not been +through that gate in the last half-hour, for it takes me that to drink yon +jug dry, and I started with it full. But I'll ask the maids. Mother and +our Kate are at the parson's yonder, gaping at you chaps. I dare say you +saw them." +</p> + +<p> +"No," said he doubtingly. +</p> + +<p> +One of the men stepped out of the porch, saluted, and, being bidden to +speak, informed his officer that he had seen Lord Brocton and Mr. Cornet +Dobson talking to two ladies. +</p> + +<p> +"That'd be they," I said, and going with unsteady steps to the door, I +vigorously shouted, "Jin, Moll, Jin, Moll, come here! They're in the +dairy," I added by way of explanation. +</p> + +<p> +The crucial moment came. Jane and 'Moll' scurried across the yard like +rabbits, but stopped at the porch door with well-simulated surprise at the +sight of the dragoons. +</p> + +<p> +"Gom, I thawt 'e'd set the house a-fire," said Jane thankfully, +addressing the company at large, and she bravely bustled through and +shrilled at me, "At it again, when your mother's out; y'd better get off +to bed afore she comes in. She'll drunk yer." +</p> + +<p> +Jane's acting was so much better than mine that I nearly lost my head at +being thus crudely accused before 'Moll,' but she went on remorselessly, +addressing the dragoon, "Dunna upset him for God's sake, Master Squaddy. +'E'm a hell-hound when 'e'm gotten a sup of beer in'im." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't trouble, my good girl. I'm used to his sort. Leave him to me and +answer my questions. The truth or the jail, my girl." +</p> + +<p> +"Yow," sniffed Jane, "he'd snap yow in two like a carrot. Bed's best +place for 'im. He's as wet as thatch with his silly jacking." +</p> + +<p> +"Jane," said I, "never mind me. I'm neither dry enough nor drunk enough +to go to bed yet. Captain here wants to ask you and Moll some questions. +Stop clacking at me like a hen at a weasel and listen to him." +</p> + +<p> +Jane went through the ordeal easily, appealing to 'Moll' for verification +at every turn, and so cleverly that the latter appeared to be as much +under examination as herself. Moreover, Jane stood square in the +firelight, but so as to keep 'Moll' shouldered behind the chimney in +comparative gloom. They'd been churning all afternoon, the butter was +there to be seen, stacks of it; nobody had been in or near the yard; the +gate had never clicked once, and nobody could open it without being heard +in the dairy. She overwhelmed the dragoon with her demonstrations of the +impossibility of anybody coming up the yard without her or 'Moll' knowing +it. +</p> + +<p> +"That's all right, Jane," said I, at length. "But she could easily have +got into the house or into the stables without you or Moll seeing her. +Let's all have a look for her. Unless she's small enough to creep into a +rat-hole, we'll soon find her." +</p> + +<p> +Sergeant Radford--to give him his name and rank, which I learned later +from Jack Dobson--agreed to this, and in my joy at knowing that the ordeal +was over, I was on the point of forgetting that I was drunk till I caught +the clear eyes of madam fixed in warning on me. Jane acted as leader to +the two dragoons in overhauling the barns and stabling, while 'Moll,' the +sergeant, and I searched the house as closely as if we were looking for a +lost guinea. Of course our efforts were futile, slow as we were so as not +to outpace my drunken footsteps, and careful as we were so as to satisfy +the keen eyes of the sergeant, who was very evidently on no new job so far +as he was concerned. 'Moll' too seemed jealous of Jane's laurels, and went +thoroughly into the business. She and the serjeant peeped together under +beds and into closets, and she laughed brazenly at certain not very +obscure hints of his as to the great services I should render to the +search-party if I kept my eye on the house-place. She even said, "Master +Noll, don't 'e think as 'ow th' ale be gettin' flat downstairs? It wunna +be wuth drinkin' if y'ain't sharp." +</p> + +<p> +The result was, that in about half an hour a thoroughly satisfied and +rather tired assembly filled the house-place, for the two scouts rode up +to the porch with the news that they, too, had found no trace of the +fugitive. With the sergeant's leave I sent the five dragoons into the +kitchen with the two maids to have a jug of ale apiece, while he stayed +with me in the house-place, to crack a bottle of wine. +</p> + +<p> +I hoped, but in vain, that he would tell me news of the stranger's +father, but he was too wary for that, and I did not dare to ask him. He +made close inquiries as to the lie of the land hereabouts, and I pointed +out that there was a field-path leading plainly to the village from the +other side of the bridge and coming out at an obscure stile at the back of +the "Barley Mow." The spy might have taken that and become alarmed. She +could then avoid the village by another plain path, and so get ahead of +the troops on the Stafford road. +</p> + +<p> +"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to +find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah!" +</p> + +<p> +"There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old +sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your +eyes on those big houses in the East Gate. As for me, look at that back +and breast and good broad-sword there. Damn me if I don't rub 'em up and +come and have a ding with 'em at these rebels. On Naseby Field they were, +Captain, long before your time and mine, but they did good work against +these same bloody Stuarts. Crack t'other bottle, there's a good fellow. +I'm dry with talking and wet with fishing, and it'll do me good." +</p> + +<p> +I pressed him to stay and 'have a good set to,' but he refused, and after +drinking enough to keep me dizzy for a week, he nipped out and ordered his +men to horse. I walked to the gate with him. He thanked me for my help and +good cheer, and said it was quite clear that the spy was nowhere in or +near the Hanyards. I renewed my greetings to Cornet Dobson and even sent +my respects to his lordship. Off they rode, and it was with a thankful +heart that, remembering my happy condition in time, I stumbled back up the +yard to the house-place, where madam and beaming Jane were awaiting me. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="3">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<h3>MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE</h3> + +<p> +Jane had taken the lady back to the house-place and was hovering around +her, with little of the grace of a maid-of-honour to be sure, but with a +heartiness and zeal that more than atoned for any lack of style. From +mother's withdrawing-room I fetched our chief household god, a small +ancient silver goblet, and, filling it with wine, offered it to the +stranger with what I supposed, no doubt wrongly, to be a modish bow. She +drank a little, and then, at my urging, a little more. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," I said, "I think you do not need to be 'Molly Brown' any longer. +Yon dragooner is quite certain that you are not here, and we can safely +take advantage of his opinion. As for you, Jane, you've done splendidly, +and I heartily thank you." I re-filled the goblet and handed it to Jane, +saying, "Drink, Jane, to madam's good luck." +</p> + +<p> +The honest girl blushed with joy at my words, and as for drinking wine +out of the famous silver goblet of the Hanyards--such a distinction, as she +conceived it, was reward enough for anything. +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks are payment all too poor for what you have done, sir," said +madam, "and any words of mine would make them poorer still. But, sir, I do +thank you most heartily. And you, too, Jane, have done me splendid +service. You are as brave and clever as you are bonny and pretty." +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," said I, bowing low, "you are too kind to my services, which +have, indeed, been rather crudely performed." +</p> + +<p> +"Not so," she replied, "but with shrewd, ready wit and certain judgment. +I cannot imagine myself in a tighter corner than at the bridge, and your +device had the effective simplicity of genius. Your plan here was, to be +sure, commonplace, but it, too, required caution and good acting, and you +and Jane supplied both. It was nicer than popping me into some musty +priest's hole, though I expect this ancient building has one." +</p> + +<p> +I looked at the wall as half expecting the sword of Captain +Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman to rattle to the ground under this awful +insinuation. +</p> + +<p> +"The only use our family has found for priests, madam," I said, "has +been, I fear, to hunt them like vermin. As a Wheatman of the Hanyards, I'm +afraid I'm a degenerate." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll not even be that much longer if I keep you from getting into some +dry clothes. And, if Jane is willing, I will make myself myself. I would +fain be on." +</p> + +<p> +With a sweet smile and a gracious curtsy, she followed the ready Jane +upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +I removed all traces of what had taken place, and carried my precious +jack into the pantry, where I hung him in safety. He should be set up by +Master Whatcot of Stafford as a trophy and memento in honour of this great +day. I then hurried off to my room to attend to my own appearance, and +indeed I needed it, for I was caked with mud up to my knees and soaking +wet up to my waist. For the first time in my life I was grieved to the +bone at the inadequacy of my wardrobe, and even when I had donned my +Sunday best my appearance was undoubtedly villainous from the London point +of view. I feathered myself as finely as my resources permitted, but it +was a homely, uncouth yeoman that raced downstairs and awaited her coming. +I drew the curtains, lit the candles, kicked the fire into a blaze, and +built it up with fresh logs. +</p> + +<p> +It would be impossible for me to set down the hubbub of thoughts and +ideas that filled my mind. I had been plunged into a new world, and +floundered about in it pretty hopelessly, I can tell you. The days of +knight-errantry had come over again, and chance, mightier even than King +Arthur, had commanded me to serve a sweet lady in distress. But I had had +no training, no preliminary squireship, in which I could learn how things +were done by watching brave and accomplished knights do them. I had lived +among the parts of speech, not among the facts of life. I could hit a bird +on the wing, snare a rabbit, ride like a saddle, angle for jack and trout, +strike like a sledge-hammer, swim like a fish--and that was all. I knew, +too, every turn and track and tree for miles round; and that might be +something now, and indeed, as will be seen, turned out my most precious +accomplishment. Some people said I was as proud as Lucifer, others that I +was as meek as a mouse, and I once overheard our Kate tell Priscilla +Dobson, Jack's vinegary sister, that both were right--which confounded me, +for our 'Copper Nob,' as I used to call her, was a shrewd little woman. +Still, such as I was, the stranger lady should have me, an she would, as +her squire, to the last breath in my body. Only let me get out of my +cabbage-bed, only give me a man's work to do, and I would ask for no more. +Neither for love nor for liking would I crave, but just for the work and +the joy of it. +</p> + +<p> +The yard gate clicked, and a moment later mother and Kate came in. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Noll, it's been grand!" burst out Kate. "I wish you'd been there. +There were hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers, horse and foot, and guns +and wagons without end. Lord Brocton was there, and Sir Ralph Sneyd, who +is just a duck, and a nasty-looking major with his face all over blotches. +And they saw us, and crowded into the vicar's to talk to us." +</p> + +<p> +"And what about Jack Dobson?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Oliver, what have you got your best clothes on for?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because I got wet through catching a great jack. But never mind my best +clothes. How did Jack look in his uniform?" +</p> + +<p> +"A lot better than Lord Brocton, or anyone else there, if you must know," +she said, jerking the words at me, with her cheeks near the colour of her +hair. +</p> + +<p> +"Can he talk sense yet?" +</p> + +<p> +"He talked like the modest gentleman he is," said my mother, "and looked +nearly as handsome as my own boy. He sent his loving greetings to you, and +would fain have come to see you but his duties would not allow of it." +</p> + +<p> +Of course my gibes at Jack were all purely foolish and jealous, and, +moreover, I could now afford to be truthful; so I said, "If Jack doesn't +do better, as well as look better, than my Lord Brocton, I'll thrash him +soundly when he gets back. But he will. He's a rare one is Master Jack, +and by a long chalk the pluckiest soul, boy or man, I've ever come across. +And he'll learn sense, of the sort he wants, as fast as anybody when the +time comes." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course the lad will," said mother, taking off her long cloak, and +Kate, when mother turned to hang it on its accustomed hook, gave a swift +peck at my cheek with her lips, and whispered, "You dear old Noll!" +</p> + +<p> +All this time I had been listening with strained ears for footsteps on +the stairs. Now I heard them, and waited anxiously. The door opened, and +Jane came in, upright and important. She curtsyed to my mother, announced, +"Mistress Margaret Waynflete," and my goddess came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +Straight up to my mother she walked,--a poor word to describe her sweet +and stately motion, <i>et vera incessu patuit dea</i>, as the master has +it,--curtsied low and nobly to her and said, "Mistress Wheatman, I am a +stranger in distress, and should have been in danger but for your son, who +has served me and saved me as only a brave and courteous gentleman could." +</p> + +<p> +I had ever loved my mother dearly, but I loved her proudly now, for the +greatest dame in the land could not have done better than this sweet, +simple mother of mine. Without surprise or hesitation, she took Mistress +Waynflete's hands in her own, and said, "Dear lady, anyone in distress is +welcome here, and Oliver has done just as I would have him do. And this is +my daughter, Kate, who will share our anxiety to help you." +</p> + +<p> +And then I was proud of our Kate, Kate with the red hair and the +milk-white face, the saucy eye and the shrewd tongue, Kate with the +tradesman's head and the heart of gold. She shook madam warmly by the +hand, and led her to my great arm-chair in the ingle-nook as to a throne +that was hers of right. +</p> + +<p> +Thus was Mistress Waynflete made welcome to the Hanyards. +</p> + +<p> +Mother and Kate took their accustomed seats on the cosy settle beside the +hearth. I sat on a three-legged stool in front of the fire, and Jane +flitted about as quietly as a bat, laying the table for our evening meal. +</p> + +<p> +Never had the house-place at the Hanyards looked so fair. The firelight +danced on the black oak wainscot which age and polishing had made like +unto ebony, and the row of pewter plates on the top shelf of the dresser +glimmered in their obscurity like a row of moons. Our special pride, a +spice-cupboard of solid mahogany, ages old, glowed red across the room, +and from the neighbouring wall the great sword and back-and-breast with +which Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, Captain of Horse, had done service at +Naseby, seemed to twinkle congratulations to me as one not unworthy of my +name. Not an unsuitable frame, perhaps, this ancient, goodly house-place, +for the beautiful picture now in it, on which I looked as often as I dared +with furtive eyes of admiration. +</p> + +<p> +She told her story with simple directness. Her father's name was +Christopher Waynflete, a soldier by profession, who had seen service in +many parts of the Continent and had attained the rank of Colonel in the +Swedish army. Her mother she had never known, for she had died when +Mistress Margaret was but a few months old, and her father had maintained +an unbroken reticence on the subject. Some six months ago, Colonel +Waynflete had returned to England to settle, desiring to obtain some +military employment, a plan which his long service and professional +knowledge seemed to make feasible. In London he made the acquaintance of +the Earl of Ridgeley, to whom, indeed, he bore a letter of introduction +from a Swedish diplomat in Paris. Through the Earl he had met Lord +Brocton, the Earl's only son and heir. The Colonel's hope of employment in +the army had not been realized, and this and certain other reasons, which +she did not specify, had embittered him against the Government. Not having +any real allegiance to King George, whom he had never served, and who now +refused his services, he easily entered into the plans of certain +influential Jacobites in London whose acquaintance he had made. Three days +previously he had set out from London to join Prince Charles. For certain +reasons (again she did not give details) she was unwilling to be separated +from her father, at any rate not until circumstances made it necessary for +them to part, and then the plan was that she should go to Chester, with +which city she was inclined to think her father had some old connexion, +and stay there with the wife of a certain cathedral dignitary of secret +but strong Jacobite inclinations. Colonel Waynflete's connexion with the +Jacobite cause had, naturally, been kept secret, but she was almost +certain that Lord Brocton had discovered it through a certain spy and +toady of his, one Major Tixall. +</p> + +<p> +"Pimples all over his face?" broke in Kate. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Mistress Waynflete, with a little shudder. +</p> + +<p> +"He was in the village this afternoon with Lord Brocton," returned Kate. +</p> + +<p> +"Peace, dear one," said mother, "our turn is coming. Be as quiet as +Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver, mother dear, hasn't seen Major Tixall, whose face is enough to +make an owl talk, let alone a magpie like me." +</p> + +<p> +Her right ear was near enough to me, the stool being big and I bigger, so +I pinched the pretty little pink shell, and whispered in it, "Shut up, +Kit, and think of Jack," which effectually silenced her. +</p> + +<p> +Mistress Waynflete had little more to tell. They had travelled rapidly, +avoiding Coventry and Lichfield, where the royal forces had assembled, but +bending west so as to get by unfrequented roads to Stafford, and so on to +the main north road along which the Prince was now reported to be +marching. Just outride the "Bull and Mouth" her horse had cast a shoe. +Leaving her to rest in the ale-house, the Colonel had gone on with the +horses to the nearest smithy at Milford. He was quite unaware of the +northward movement of troops from Lichfield, and was under the impression +that he was now well beyond the danger zone. We had heard from the +serjeant of his capture. +</p> + +<p> +Kate, at mother's request, took up the tale here. The road past the +Hanyards to the village enters the main road abruptly, and clumps of elms +prevent anyone travelling along it from seeing what is happening in the +village. The vicarage is opposite the smithy and the inn, and when mother +and Kate got there, only a few dragoons were about. They watched the +Colonel ride up, leading his daughter's horse, and saw him turn round at +once and attempt to go back as soon as he caught sight of the dragoons; +but a larger body, under the command of Major Tixall, cantered in at the +moment and, trapped between the two bodies, the Colonel had been compelled +to surrender. He was kept until my Lord Brocton's arrival nearly an hour +later, and had then been sent on to Stafford under a strong guard. +</p> + +<p> +This was the only fresh piece of information that was of any importance. +There is a jail at Stafford, and no doubt the Colonel was by now lodged in +it. +</p> + +<p> +"I fear that my views, or at any rate my father's views, make me a +dangerous guest," said Mistress Waynflete, "though your kindness has made +me a welcome one." +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," I said coldly, "the only politics I know is that my Lord Brocton +is fighting against the Stuart, and if by fighting for the Stuart I can +get in a fair blow at my Lord Brocton, I fight for the Stuart." +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver," said mother, "it is wrong--I say nothing about its wisdom--to +choose sides in such matters on grounds of personal enmity." +</p> + +<p> +"Lord Brocton's a beast," said Kate shortly. +</p> + +<p> +Mistress Waynflete had turned a richer colour at the mention of Brocton's +name, but at Kate's words she became scarlet, and for that I vowed I would +knock him on the head as ruthlessly as if he were a buck rabbit as soon as +I got the chance. +</p> + +<p> +She recovered and continued her story, but as it only concerned my share +in the day's doings, it is unnecessary to repeat it here. She told it, +however, in such kind terms, that I made an end to my discomfort by going +to fetch the great jack for mother and Kate to look at. When returning, +however, I could not help hearing Kate say to Mistress Waynflete, "Without +a 'by your leave'?" +</p> + +<p> +"As indifferently as if I had been a bag of flour," was the cool reply. +And I had dithered like an aspen leaf! +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose he half drowned you?" +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary, there was not a wet stitch on me." +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver," added my mother, "has not many things to do that are worth his +doing, but what he finds he does well." +</p> + +<p> +"Such as catching jack," said I, staggering in with my heavy load. It was +admired unstintingly, and was indeed worthy of all praise. +</p> + +<p> +"Supper is ready, mam," said Jane; "and Joe says he knowed it wor as big +as a gate-post." +</p> + +<p> +"And where is Joe?" +</p> + +<p> +"In the kitchen, Master Noll." +</p> + +<p> +"Give him a good supper, not much ale, and that small, and tell him to +stop there. I shall want him." Then, turning to Mistress Waynflete, I went +on: "There's one way, and only one, into Stafford that's perfectly safe +to-night. Joe and I will row you there. Now, mother, I'm hungrier than the +great jack ever was." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="4">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<h3>OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES</h3> + +<p> +I have already said that the river was the boundary of the Hanyards on +the side towards the village. About a hundred yards above the pocket of +deep water where the jack had lain, I had built a little covered dock, and +here I kept a craft, half boat and half punt, which I used for my fishing, +and in which mother and Kate could lie on cushions while I rowed them on +the river on warm summer nights. It was heavy and ungainly, but very +comfortable, and as safe as the ark. +</p> + +<p> +Joe received the information that he was to row to Stafford as cheerfully +as an invitation to a jug of beer, and went off whistling to get the boat +ready. +</p> + +<p> +Everything that care could suggest was done for Mistress Waynflete's +comfort. Jane carried down to the boat two huge stone beer bottles, filled +with boiling water. Mother insisted on madam taking her thick hooded +cloak, shaped like a fashionable domino, and covering her from head to +ankles. Kate slipped into my pocket a pint flask of her extra special +concoction of peppermint cordial, the best possible companion on a night +like this. Jane came back and returned again laden with rugs and cushions, +and soon reported that the boat was ready. +</p> + +<p> +Mother and Kate, with Jane behind them, came to the garden gate to bid us +farewell. Little was said, for Mistress Waynflete was too moved by their +kindness to say much, and I was too preoccupied. Madam kissed them all in +turn and murmured a good-bye. I kissed mother and Kate, and they wished me +a good voyage and a safe return. We turned our faces riverward and started. +</p> + +<p> +It was now nearly eight o'clock. The night was pitch-dark, the sky +star-studded and moonless. It was freezing hard, the keen air stung our +faces, the tiniest twig was finger-thick with hoar-frost, and the grass +crunched under our feet at every step. I went ahead as guide, and in five +minutes we arrived at the dock, where Joe, the boat out, cushioned and +trim for the voyage, was vigorously slapping his hands crosswise round his +waist to keep them warm. He held the boat up to the bank, I stepped in, +handed in Mistress Waynflete, bestowed her with all possible comfort, +settled by her side, and took the ropes. Then Joe, clambering in, pushed +off and the voyage began. +</p> + +<p> +It was up-stream, but fortunately the current was gentle, though there +was a fair amount of water coming down. There was, or rather would have +been on an ordinary night, no danger of discovery, since the river was +half a mile from the main road at our starting-place, and ran still +farther away from it for nearly two miles. Then came the one possible +danger-spot on such a night as this, with the road occupied by troops on +the march. A long bend in the river took it so close to the road that the +yard of a wayside inn ran right down to the water. If we got safely past +this, all danger would be over till we ran sheer up to the ruined wall of +the town. The moon would not rise for two hours, so there was ample time +for our row of about five miles. +</p> + +<p> +"I trust you are comfortable, madam?" I said. +</p> + +<p> +"Comfortable and warm and cosy," she replied. "But for my fears for my +father I should even be happy, for it has never before been my lot, and I +have wandered far and wide over half Europe, to experience such and so +much kindness in one day from perfect strangers." +</p> + +<p> +"I am, indeed, happy in my mother and sister. They are pearls of great +price." +</p> + +<p> +"None better in all Staffordsheer," said Joe. +</p> + +<p> +"You have rendered me a greater service than you know of, and I must not +let you leave yourself out." To hide a note of wistfulness in her voice, +she added mischievously, "Must I, Joe?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yow could find wus'n' Wheatman o' th' 'Anyards," said Joe, with sturdy +precision of praise. +</p> + +<p> +"Is he really a hell-hound, Joe, when he's got a sup of beer in him? I've +no clear notion what a hell-hound is, but clearly it means something as +bad, say, as a janissary--the worst animal I ever came across." +</p> + +<p> +"Sup o' beer in 'im," snorted Joe contemptuously. "He dunna really know +what beer is, my lady. It's a grand thing is beer, if y'll only tak' +enough of it to do y' good, but there's no vartue in half a pint of it. +I've told 'im that lots of times. But it's God's truth, my lady, 'e dunna +want no beer, dunna Master Noll, to mak 'im 'it like the kick of a 'oss. I +on'y brought 'im a few daceys up t'ouse this mawnin', an'--" +</p> + +<p> +"You row harder, Joe, and yawp less," said I, interrupting him. "Between +you and Jane I shan't have a rag of character left." +</p> + +<p> +"Sup o' beer in him," he growled, and spat loudly on his hands. Joe +looked at all men as potential customers of the "Bull and Mouth," and +judged them accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +"I know the worst about you now, Master Wheatman, and by way of providing +you with a less embarrassing topic of conversation, you might tell me what +we shall do when we get to Stafford." +</p> + +<p> +"We are going to Marry-me-quick's." +</p> + +<p> +She started so abruptly that I laughed outright, and Joe rumbled like an +overloaded wagon. I explained. +</p> + +<p> +"We shall approach the town on the south side where the wall comes down +to the river. 'Marry-me-quick' is not, as you seem to suppose, a +disagreeable process, but an agreeable old woman who lives in a cottage +which backs on to the river. Every schoolboy in the town knows her by that +name, which is also the name of a kind of toffee she makes, and by the +sale of which she earns a modest living. I cannot tell you how the name +originated, but there it is. I went to the grammar school in the town, and +in my time I must have bought and consumed some hundredweights of her +'marry-me-quick.' In her tiny cottage you may rest in safety while I hunt +up Jack Dobson and learn what has been done with your father." +</p> + +<p> +"An' if I'd got a shilling," said the irrepressible Joe, "for every pat +of butter I've taken owd Marry-me-quick, I'd--I'd--" +</p> + +<p> +He seemed lost for words, so I assisted him, and paid him back at the +same time, by saying, "Pluck up courage enough to speak to Jane." + +"That's rate, Master Noll." +</p> + +<p> +"Is Jane so very fond of money, Joe?" asked Mistress Waynflete curiously. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Joe. "She ain't grasping, ain't Jin. She told me t'nate, she +c'd 'ave 'ad a mint of money if she'd liked, but she wouldna tak' it. Said +it would 'a' burnt 'er fingers. 'More fool yow,' says I; 'it'd 'a' soon +gotten cowd weather like this'n.' But Jin's all rate. Er'll never bre'k +'er arm at church door, wunna Jin." +</p> + +<p> +I explained to Mistress Waynflete that a woman who broke her arm at the +church door was a housewifely maiden who became a slatternly housewife +after marriage. "There's no fear of Jane doing that," she replied; "she's +as good as the guineas she would not take." +</p> + +<p> +For a space silence fell on us. All my attention was required to keep the +boat clear of the banks, for the little river turned and twisted through +its meadows like a hunted hare. There was only the starlight to steer by, +but I had fished every yard of the river, and knew it so well that I gave +Joe a clear channel to row in. Not a sound jarred on the rhythmic purr of +the oars in the rowlocks and the gentle lapping of the stream against the +bow. This day had God been very good to me. This was life as I would have +it; work to do for brain and brawn, and a woman to do it for who was worth +the uttermost that was in me. Romance had flushed the drab night of my +life with a rosy dawn, and my heart was lifted up within me. If it faded +away, there would at least be the memory of it. But it might not fade. I +was under no illusions as to the stiffness of my task. I was matched +against the powers that be, against my Lord Brocton, whose ability to work +this maiden ill was increased a thousandfold by his military authority. I +saw my way into Stafford, and I saw no more, not even my way out of it, +and least of all my way out of it with the Colonel rescued and restored to +his daughter. Mistress Waynflete had been so determined in her decision to +follow her father that perhaps she had some plan in mind. She said nothing +if she had, and if she had, it would, I supposed, depend on her woman's +power of influencing Brocton. The future was as black as the outlook along +the river, but I faced it eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +She broke the silence: "The last boat I was in was a gondola. It was on a +perfect night in a Venetian June, the sky a sapphire sprinkled with +diamonds, the warm, scent-laden air filled with murmurings and snatches of +song. And there was no danger." +</p> + +<p> +"Romance, perchance," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"You cannot have a one-sided romance. Romance is an atmosphere breathed +by two, not an emotion felt by one. To be sure, he was the most +appallingly in earnest lover woman ever had. He wept for a kiss with his +fingers twiddling on the hilt of his stiletto. Dear heart, these Italians!" +</p> + +<p> +"I should like to meet his countship," said I energetically. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, he was a count, with a pedigree as long as the Rialto, and he had +not two silver piastres to rub against each other. He was the handsomest +man I have even seen. Fortunately, we left Venice before he had quite +decided that it was time to dig his knife into me." +</p> + +<p> +"You speak lightly of your danger, madam," I said coldly. +</p> + +<p> +"A hot-blooded Italian with a stiletto in his hand is a much more +desirable creature, let me tell you, than a cold-blooded Englishman with +the devil in his heart. That fiery little count, conceited and +poverty-stricken, did at any rate pay me the compliment of thinking for at +least a fortnight that I was a patch of heaven fallen in his way, whereas +to your cold-livered English lord I am no more than an appetizing dish." +</p> + +<p> +She was not speaking lightly now, but with cold, concentrated anger. I +remembered the reticencies of her statement at the Hanyards, and began to +see dimly some of the connecting links in her story. My Lord Brocton's +character was well enough known to be the subject of common talk at our +market ordinaries. My very manhood shamed me in the presence of this +queenly woman, marked down by a titled blackguard as his quarry, and I sat +still, fists tightly clenched on the tiller-ropes, and said nothing, +waiting for her to speak again. +</p> + +<p> +"I have seen to-day, Master Wheatman," she said, "a sight I have never +seen before--a beautiful English maiden growing up to womanhood in the +calm and safety of an English country home. You will be tempted, I know, +to envy me my wanderings, my experiences, my freedom, but, believe me, I +would rather be your sweet Kate in the quiet of the Hanyards." +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't as quiet as it might be when Jack's about," said I, seeking to +change the current of her thoughts. Then I had to tell her all about Jack, +and our boyish escapades and fightings and friendings, and because I had +earlier in the day though evil of dear Jack, I now could say nothing good +enough about him. +</p> + +<p> +It was time to relieve Joe at the oars. At first he would not agree, for, +he said, he'd been "lagging a bit during the day 'long o' them squaddies," +and wanted to put in a day's work. +</p> + +<p> +"You will, before you've done, Joe, for you've got to pull the boat back. +So have a swig of beer and we'll change over. And madam shall acknowledge +the virtues of our Kate's peppermint cordial." +</p> + +<p> +Joe shipped his oars and reached out for his bottle of beer. I got out +the flask and said in a sing-song voice: "Take two gallons of the best +Hollands money can buy, and add thereto, first, four pounds of choice +Barbados sugar, and, secondly, two bushels of freshly gathered leaves of +the plant peppermint. Steep together for a whole moon, stirring the +concoction every four hours during the daytime, and as often as you wake +o' nights. Strain through a piece of linen, if you've got one; if not, do +what our Kate did this year, use a fair maiden's silk stocking. The result +is a drink fit for the gods, and, indeed, one which may even be offered to +goddesses. Drink, madam!" +</p> + +<p> +She was laughing merrily before I had finished. "Kate's stocking sounds +the most innocent ingredient in it, Master Wheatman, but I must try her +skill in brewing." +</p> + +<p> +She did so, and pronounced it excellent but strong. I tried it too, +rather more copiously, I confess. Indeed, it was good, but to me, I know, +the charm of the cordial this time lay in the thought of the rich red lips +that had touched the flask before mine. +</p> + +<p> +Joe and I then changed places, and I kept hard at the oars until we came +to the reach which ran close up to the "Why Not." Here Joe resumed the +oars and I the ropes. +</p> + +<p> +"This is the only danger-spot," I said. "Yonder are the lights of the +ale-house. On an ordinary night there would be no one about, even if it +mattered if there were, but to-night, when it does matter, there are +thousands of soldiers on the march, and there is some risk of our being +observed." +</p> + +<p> +In another five minutes or so we heard faint snatches of song and bursts +of applause, and shouting and laughing. The "Why Not" was now about a +hundred yards ahead on our left. On the right the bank was lined with +willows which, not having been pollarded for many years, stretched their +long, thin branches well over the river. I ran the boat as far under them +as I could. Joe pulled with short, soft strokes, and we crept slowly +along. For a minute the lighted windows were obscured by the outhouses, +and just as I caught sight of them again, a door was flung open, and the +jumble of noises swelled into a roar of jeering laughter. A young woman +flew out, heedlessly and noisily as a flustered hen, and a burly soldier +lurched after her down the yard. At a whisper, Joe shipped his oars, and I +ran the boat right into the bank. I grabbed in the dark for a hold-to, and +luckily seized the roots of a willow. At his end Joe did the same. We +hardly dared to breathe as we watched the doings on the other bank. +</p> + +<p> +Lust, of blood or worse, and the fear of it, were there. The lighted +windows and the open door made every movement of the man and the girl +clearly visible. No one followed them. It was so ordinary an event to the +company, perhaps that it was not worth while leaving mirth and beer to see +the issue. But all serious elements in their affair changed abruptly and +to our instant jeopardy. On the very edge of the water the girl, knowing +her whereabouts to an inch, turned cleverly. The man, a stranger +obviously, ran on and pitched clean and far into the river, while she, +laughing and triumphant, scuttled back to the house. Her tale brought out +at once a spurt of men, yelling with joy, to watch the fun. Some of them +had snatched up lanterns and lighted candles, and they were followed later +by a fresh, older, shrieking woman who carried a huge, burning brand +plucked from the hearth. +</p> + +<p> +Happily for us the river was shallow, for a couple of strokes would have +brought the man clean into us. The shock of the icy water sobered him. He +splashed and spluttered to his feet, climbed up the bank like a giant +water-rat, and would have slunk towards the house; but the rabble were on +him before he had taken a dozen paces, and tormented him till he roared +like a wounded bull. The woman with the brand cried out on him with vile +words that made my face burn in the dark, and belaboured him about the +head with her blazing cudgel. At every blow a shower of sparks flew out +that drove his rollicking mates into a ring around them at a safe distance +away. The man must have been set afire had he not been soused in the river +beforehand. None of his fellows tried to help him, just as before none had +tried to hinder him. It was his look out either way, and they enjoyed his +discomfiture with all the gusto of children. At last the breathless woman +and the cowed man came to a parley, the result of which was that, with a +whoop of "pots round," they all crowded back into the ale-house, and we +were once more alone on the river. +</p> + +<p> +"The ordeal by water and by fire," I said. "Push out, Joe." +</p> + +<p> +"Gom! Owd Bess give 'im sock," he replied, and levered the nose of the +boat into midstream again. +</p> + +<p> +Although there was no real need for it, the escape kept us all quiet. I +persuaded Mistress Waynflete to lie down, so as to avoid the biting wind +that was sweeping across the river, and Joe and I by turns made such +progress that in less than an hour we drew up to the town meadow. +</p> + +<p> +The greatest caution was now necessary, since we saw that the bridge +leading into the town was thronged with people, many carrying lanterns or +torches. The town wall ran parallel to the river, on our right, with a +narrow fringe of meadow between them. Here the wall was for the most part +tumbled into ruins, and in the gaps stood little cottages, built in part +of the stones that had once formed the wall. In one of these lived little +old Marry-me-quick, Mistress Martha Tonks, to give her her christening +name, and we ran up to the bank level with her place without being +observed from the bridge, although it was only a few boat-lengths distant. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped cautiously out and tiptoed to her back window. There the +ancient maiden was, busily engaged in the manufacture of her staple, no +doubt in anticipation of a greater demand for it in these stirring days, +when much extra money would be passing around in the town, and many +pennies thereof would dribble into the pockets of the youngsters. I lifted +the latch and stepped in. She squeaked with affright till she saw who it +was, and then turned her note into a gurgle of astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you alone?" I asked. She nodded. "Just a minute then, and I'll be +back again, with a visitor. Keep quiet!" +</p> + +<p> +I returned to the boat, and as I was obliged to move as stealthily as a +cat, I could not help, as I approached, hearing Joe say emphatically, "I +wunna." I cursed him silent, without troubling to ask what he was +objecting to, and handed Mistress Waynflete out. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Joe," I whispered, "off you go back! The moon will be up in a few +minutes, and you ought to do it in an hour. You can sit in the kitchen all +to-morrow to make up for this." +</p> + +<p> +"Jin said 'er'd sit up for me," he said, and I was glad he had such a +good motive to keep him up to his hard task. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Joe," said Mistress Waynflete, shaking the good fellow warmly +by the hand. "Give my loving remembrances to your mistresses and to Jane. +Say how grateful I am." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, my lady," he said simply, "and God bless you." So that only I +could hear him, he added, "Tak' good keer on 'er, Master Noll. Jin's awful +sot on 'er, and wunna luk at me if any 'arm 'appens 'er." +</p> + +<p> +I gripped his hard hand, gave him my parting message home, and then +crouched and pushed the boat into and down the stream. As I lifted my hand +from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the +last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand +was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with +the new life. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="5">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<h3>THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE</h3> + +<p> +I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she +manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night. Her cottage +contained only one other room, serving as shop and living room, and +fronting on a narrow lane which turned abruptly from the main street at +the bridge-end to follow the curve of the walls. By the time I returned +with Mistress Waynflete she had shuttered the window of the shop, snuffed +the candles, and stirred the fire into a blaze. +</p> + +<p> +Marry-me-quick was an ancient, wizened, little woman, so small that she +hardly escaped being a dwarf, humpbacked, and inexpressibly ugly. In times +not so long gone by she would assuredly have burned as a witch, and many +supposed her to be in league with the evil one. But in actual fact she was +a cheery, voluble, and warm-hearted little body, and one on whom I could +rely to serve us in this pinch. +</p> + +<p> +"Mistress Tonks," I said, "I want you to shelter this lady for the night." +</p> + +<p> +"To be sure," chirped the little woman. "Luckily I've kept the sojers +off. Every house in the town is full of 'em, and the Mayor's at his wits' +end to know how to stuff 'em all in. I should think a score of 'em have +come here, in ones, and twos, and threes; and when I stood bold up to them +and said, 'Do you want any marry-me-quick?' they were off like scared +rabbits. A great, sweet lady like you wouldn't think it, of course, but +it's a godsend at times for a lone woman when she's ugly enough to turn +cream sour, and somedeal crooked o' the body into the bargain." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete, +deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman +has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not +want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter." +</p> + +<p> +"I should befriend the devil's dam, asking your ladyship's pardon, if +Master Wheatman brought her here. I'm a little, lone, ugly woman, but +Master Noll always stood by me. The lads, drat 'em, were for ever pinching +Master Dobson's bull's-eyes and gingerbread, and him mayor of the town, +though he's got lots grander than that since, but they never pinched any +marry-me-quick, not in Master Noll's time. But he's gone now, and I'm not +as nimble as I used to be. Jesus help me, how he had used to fight! He +used to put my heart in my mouth, coming in here all blood and muck to +wash himself afore he went home. But take your things off and make +yourself at home." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid you'll hear a too full and too true account of me, madam, +while I am away," said I. "Soldiers are likely to call, but you can leave +Mistress Tonks to deal with them. Still, please discard your own jacket +and hat, and wear mother's domino. It's homely and country-like, and you +must pull the hood over your head, since, if your hair has been described, +and any soldier who calls has heard of it, he will have to be blind not to +notice it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, it's dreadful stuff," she said, with amusing meekness. +</p> + +<p> +"So dreadful, madam," said I soberly, "that all England cannot match it. +Therefore you must hide it, lest it should shock some poor soldier who +comes seeking a billet and finds it." +</p> + +<p> +She took off her hat, preparing to do what I asked, and the wondrous +yellow hair, coils upon coils of it, was revealed. "Jesus help me," said +little Marry-me-quick in a hushed voice, "the back of her head looks like +a harvest moon. If the same God that made her ladyship made me, we shall +begin life in heaven with a row, that's all I've got to say." +</p> + +<p> +I smiled at the quaint conceit of the little woman, which lost its +irreverence towards God in its reverence for His handiwork. "Now mother +Tonks," said I, "I leave this lady in your charge for a time while I go +into the town to see Master Dobson. I may be away some time, and you'll +get us some supper. Anything you have will do." +</p> + +<p> +"Anything I have?" she echoed scornfully. "I've got one of them rabbits +you sent me last market day by that lozzicking Joe Braggs, but he's a good +gorby is Joe"--here her voice softened, and madam smiled agreement--"and +this frost has kept it as sweet as a nut. If you're not too hungry to +wait, I'll make you some rabbit-stew." +</p> + +<p> +"Rabbit-stew? I'll wait for that, and I'm sure Mistress Waynflete will," +said I. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll live on marry-me-quick in the meantime," she replied, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +"I leave you then in good hands, and hope to come back with cheerful +news," I said, bowing low, and stepped forth on my errand. +</p> + +<p> +I turned to the left and fifty paces brought me into the main street. A +gun and a train of wagons were rumbling over the bridge, convoyed by a +handful of dragoons and a riff-raff of noisy lads and lasses. Late and +cold as it was, the main street was thronged as on a fair day at noon. +Most of the shops, especially those that dealt in provisions, were open +and full of vociferous customers, while every alehouse was a pandemonium. +The street was choked with townspeople and soldiery; lanterns flickered +and torches flamed; oath and jest, bravado and buffoonery, filled the air. +</p> + +<p> +I pushed my way to the market-place. Here about a dozen guns were parked, +and at least a hundred horses tethered. At each corner a huge fire cracked +and roared. The town hall was a blaze of light, and I heard from passersby +that the mayor and council had been in session since noon. The current +rumour was that the Stuart, with fifty thousand Highlanders, savages who +disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food, had sacked +Manchester and was now marching south, with hell in his heart and +desolation in his train. If one-hundredth of it were true, the worthy +mayor had his work cut out, for the town was so ill-found that it would +have fallen to a bombardment of turnips. +</p> + +<p> +I took my stand on the town-hall steps to scan the scene and collect my +thoughts. And here I had the best of luck, for who should come clanking +down the steps but Jack Dobson. I had no need to envy him now, having +better work on hand than his, but even if the mood of the midday had been +prevailing, it would have disappeared before his hearty greeting. +</p> + +<p> +"Noll, by gad, Noll," he cried, wringing my hand joyously. "I am glad to +see you, bully-boy; I thought you were sulking in your tent like--like, +you know his name, the fellow old Bloggs was always yarning about." +</p> + +<p> +"Iphigenia," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Was that the chap?" he said cheerily. "And now I've got you, come along +to the house. I've more to tell you than there is in all your silly old +Virgil, and it's alive, man, alive, alive. That's why it suits me. Come +along, Noll. Lord Brocton's supping and staying with dad, so's Sneyd, and +a lot more, and you'll hear all the news. Brocton's a beast, and I'm glad +I'm an officer, if it's only a cornet in his rotten dragoons. There'll be +one beast less in the world, I'm thinking, before long." +</p> + +<p> +"What's he done to upset you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I say, Noll," was his reply, "Kate did look sweet this afternoon. I was +glad to have her come and see me off to the wars. I only had a few +snatches of talk with her. Brocton was for ever finding me something to +do, rot him, but she did look sweet." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, if she did. Never mind our Kate." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind your Kate, you barbarian, you one-eyed anthropathingamy! Oh, +Noll, old friend"--there was a catch in his voice as he dragged me into +the entry at the side of old Comfit's shop,--"she's your Kate now, but if +I come back, I want her to be my Kate. Don't breathe a word to her, Noll, +unless I never come back,--war has its risks, Noll, and I'm going to take +'em all,--but if I never come back, Noll, just tell Kate that I loved her." +</p> + +<p> +A plump of townspeople yelled their way past the entry, and their torches +lit up his fresh, boyish face, all alight with the enthusiasms of war and +love. I clasped his hand, and we looked into each other's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad to tell you, Noll." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad to hear it, Jack. Come back, for Kate's sake." +</p> + +<p> +The good fellow bubbled with joy at the meaning in my words, and we +continued our way up the entry, intending a detour where we could talk in +quiet, but before we had got out of the glare of the torches, he stopped +me, looked searchingly at me and said, "Old Noll, there's more in your +head now than Virgil." This confirmed my suspicion that Master Jack Dobson +was learning in his way more than I had learned in mine. + +"Farming," said I. "Tell me why Brocton is a beast." +</p> + +<p> +"He thinks every pretty woman a butterfly for his filthy fingers to crush +the beauty out of. But if he rolls his beast's tongue round one name, +either he or I will want that ferryman chap. What's his name?" +</p> + +<p> +"Charon," said I, forgetting to tease him. +</p> + +<p> +"That's him, Charon, I'm sure you're right this time. I wasn't sure about +the sulky old boy in the tent. I always thought Iphi-something was the one +that got his throat--Abram and Isaac sort of tale without any ram and +thicket at the end of it--but of course you'll be right." +</p> + +<p> +"And what sort of dragoons are you cornet of?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"They give me the bats, Noll. There's about two hundred town-sweepings, +not worth powder and shot, who want tying on their horses, and hardly know +butt from bayonet, and there's another two hundred better men, got +together coming along, or in the country around Lichfield. Sneyd, a +rattling good fellow, and I have tossed for stations, and when it comes to +a battle he's to lead the yokels and I'm to follow behind, kicking the +scum of London into the firing-line. Damn 'em. But I'll kick 'em right +enough. Then there's Major Tixall--major, by gad--a slinking cut-throat, +with a face the colour of pigs' liver. What he's majoring it for, Brocton +and the devil alone know. The only good thing is we've got a first-rate +drill sergeant. He's Brocton's toady, and for that I don't like him, but +he does know his business, I must say that for him." +</p> + +<p> +"Big-headed man, with a mouth slit up to his left ear?" said I, seizing +the welcome opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +"How the deuce do you know?" asked Jack, astonished. +</p> + +<p> +"He came searching the Hanyards this afternoon for a Jacobite spy, a +woman. But he didn't find her. She slipped through his fingers somehow. I +understood from big-mouth that you'd caught her father. What have you done +with him? Is he crow's meat yet?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, for some reason or other, which is a mystery to me, Brocton sent him +on with the van." +</p> + +<p> +"Here?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, farther on. Their orders are to push into Stone to-day, and +Newcastle to-morrow. They ought to be in touch with the enemy there. Of +course it's not certain which way they'll come, and if they come this way, +Noll, mark you, we've made a mistake. We ought to have waited for 'em at +Milford. We could have blown 'em to bits from the top of the hills, long +before they could have got at us." +</p> + +<p> +Our talk had brought us to an alley containing a side entrance to Master +Dobson's fine, old, timbered house, the pride of the town and known there +as the "Ancient High House." It stood on the main street of the town, +which led from the bridge to the market-place. For a moment I was +undecided, since I had obtained the news that mattered most, but I had +only been out a short time, the rabbit-stew would not be ready, Mistress +Waynflete was safe and comfortable, and might prefer to be alone, it was +possible that I might learn something further--and on these grounds I +decided that it would be well worth while to accept Jack's invitation. I +therefore followed him into the withdrawing-room. Here I paid due +courtesies to buxom Mistress Dobson and Mistress Priscilla Dobson, Jack's +oldest sister, a wasp-waisted bundle of formalities, for ever curtsying +and coquetting, after the London mode as she fondly imagined. My back +fairly ached with answering bobs and bows before we had drunk our part of +a dish of tea, which Mistress Dobson had brewed wherewith to refresh +herself after the toils of hospitality, but at last I jerked my way out at +Jack's heels, and we climbed to the stately barrel-roofed room where the +great ones were assembled. +</p> + +<p> +Horseshoe-wise round a mighty fire of logs, with a small table covered +with decanters and glasses between each pair, some dozen men sat at their +wine. There was, of course, Master Dobson, his meagre body all a twitter +with importance, sitting in the centre of the bend, opposite the fire, +whence he could survey all his guests at once, and urge them on with their +carousing. +</p> + +<p> +"My son returneth, my lord," he said, "with news from the worshipful the +Mayor, and he hath brought with him a worthy yeoman, one Master Wheatman, +who--" +</p> + +<p> +"Of the Hanyards, Esquire," said I in a testy whisper. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha, yes," he corrected and compromised, "Master Wheatman of the +Hanyards, a loyal subject of His Gracious Majesty." +</p> + +<p> +"The best friend and hardest hitter in broad Staffordshire," added Jack +heartily. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped into the horseshoe and made a bow general to the company, and a +lower one for the benefit of my Lord Brocton, who sat next to the hearth +in pride of place and comfort. Some years older than I, but not yet +thirty, handsome as a god carved by Phidias, but with drink and devilment +already marking him out for a damned soul, he sat there, the idol of that +lord-worshipping company. The only vacant chair was on his left. It was +Jack's place, earned by his father's guineas, which had remained vacant +during his absence. The good lad, I record it with pride, notwithstanding +a forbidding glance from his father, motioned me towards it, and fetched a +glass and poured out wine for me. As I was stepping forward his lordship +was good enough to address me. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha, Master Wheatman of the Hanyards,"--there was a sneer in his voice,--"it +is well I see thee on the right side, or, by gad and His Gracious +Majesty, we'd have that other five hundred acres of yours." He tossed off +a bumper of wine and added, "Or a solatium, Master Wheatman, a solatium." +</p> + +<p> +I caught Jack's eye as I stepped right into the middle of the group. To +my astonishment it was glowing with anger. Did he not think I could take +care of myself? Really Jack was becoming mysterious, but I supposed that +as I was Kate's brother he was feeling unusually interested in my welfare. +For my own part I was quite comfortable, and I replied easily, "As a +matter of fact, my lord, I have chosen my side expressly on account of the +well-known propensities of your lordship's family." +</p> + +<p> +For a full minute nothing was heard in the room but the cracking and +sputtering of the fire. This was not because of what I had said, though no +one present, and he least of all, could be fool enough to misunderstand +it, but because of its effect on him. Then, as now, blood flowed like +water on far lighter occasions than this, and Brocton, with all his +faults, was a ready fighter. For once, however, his fingers did not seek +his sword hilt, but fumbled with his empty glass, and his face went white +as the ashes at his feet. At length he recovered himself somewhat. +</p> + +<p> +"The loyal propensities of my family are well known to all men," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"And its determination to profit by them," I retorted coldly, and plumped +me down at his side. +</p> + +<p> +Right opposite me was the rector, a gross, sack-faced, ignorant +jolt-head, jowled like a pig and dew-lapped like an ox. Nature had meant +him for a butcher, but, being a by-blow of a great house, a discerning +patron had diverted him bishopward. In a voice husky with feeling and +wine, he said, "Surely it is the part of a gracious king to reward such +faithful service as that of the noble Earl of Ridgeley and my Lord +Brocton." +</p> + +<p> +"Decidedly, your reverence," I answered briskly, "and of others too, and +if, as seems likely, the Highlanders have left a vacant deanery or two +behind them, I hope your loyal services and pastoral life will be suitably +rewarded with one." +</p> + +<p> +Here Jack drew up another chair and I moved to make more room, so that he +could sit next to Brocton, to whom he was soon detailing in eager whispers +the result of his visit to the town hall. The others took up the broken +links of talk, and this gave me an opportunity of inspecting the company. +</p> + +<p> +There could be no doubt about the man on my left. His vicious, pimply +face manifested him Major Tixall, and Mistress Margaret's shudder was +easily accounted for. He turned his shoulder to me and talked to another +officer, who, so far, was only in his apprenticeship at the same game. +Beyond were two other officers of a wholly different stamp, and the one +who smiled at me with his eyes I took to be Sir Ralph Sneyd, a young +Staffordshire baronet of high repute. Then came Master Dobson, separating +the military sheep from the civilian goats. There was the Friday-faced +clothier and mercer, Master Allwood, strange company here since he was the +elder of a dissenting congregation in the town, and therefore well +separated from his reverence. The worthy mercer's dissent did not extend, +so rumour had it, to the making of hard bargains, and doubtless he was for +once hob-nobbing with the great in respect of his long purse rather than +of his long prayers. Other townsmen, whose names I did not know or cannot +recall, separated deacon from rector. +</p> + +<p> +The last man in the company, sitting opposite to his lordship, was a +stranger, and by far the man best worth looking at in the room. He had +drawn back a little, either out of the heat of the fire or to avoid his +reverence's vinous gossip as much as possible. Except that he was +certainly neither soldier nor parson, and probably not a lawyer, I could +make nothing of him. He had a massive head and a resolute and intelligent +face. He wore no wig and his hair was grey and closely cropped. I judged +him to be a man nearing sixty, but he appeared strong and vigorous. He was +dressed with rich unostentation, in grey jacket and breeches, with a +lighter grey, silver-buttoned waistcoat, and stockings to match. +</p> + +<p> +There was only one thing to be talked about in any company in Stafford +that night. What was going to happen? What of truth and substance was +there in the rumours that filled all mouths? At Master Dobson's two +currents of opinion ran violently in opposite directions. The soldiers on +my left were of course certain that the Stuart Prince and his Highland +rabble would be driven back. The towns-people opposite were equally +impressed with the fact that so far he had not been driven back but had +carried all before him. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Ralph had been stoutly maintaining that the rebellion was hopeless. +"There's no getting away from it, Sir Ralph," squeaked Master Dobson, +summing up for the doubtful townsmen; "between the rebels and us this +night there's not thirty miles nor three hundred men, and you've so far +only got about two thousand men in Stafford. I'm as loyal a man as any in +England, but there's no getting away from that." +</p> + +<p> +"Nobody wants to get away from it, Master Dobson," replied Sir Ralph. +"Any body of men with arms in their hands and the knack of using them, can +march much farther than the Highlanders have come, if no other body of +armed men stands in their way. The Stuart Prince's march will come to an +end just as soon as he is opposed, and we're here to oppose him." +</p> + +<p> +Master Dobson was still gloomy. "What sort of men have you got? Raw +militia lads, young recruits, and newly raised dragoons form at least half +of your force in Stafford." +</p> + +<p> +"Agreed," said Sir Ralph, "but we're rapidly licking 'em into shape, and +the Duke will be after us to-morrow with the regulars." +</p> + +<p> +"My good Sir Ralph," put in the mercer, "fifty thousand savage +Highlanders will cut through Stafford as easily as if it were a Cheshire +cheese. I fear the worst." +</p> + +<p> +"My worthy sir," said his lordship, and in his dulcet tones I heard the +tinkle of the mercer's guineas, "you need fear nothing. Neither stick nor +stone in Stafford will be disturbed. We are at least strong enough to make +good terms." +</p> + +<p> +"And Mistress Allwood," said the rector with a leer, "will be spared the +wastage of her charms on a ragged Highlander." +</p> + +<p> +The mercer's wife had all the charms of a withered apple, but here was +opening for discord, and our twittering host staved it off by appealing to +the stranger: "What do you think, Master Freake, of the way things are +going?" +</p> + +<p> +"I have not formed an opinion as to what is likely to happen here, good +Master Dobson," he replied, "but, speaking generally, I should feel much +easier in mind if the Duke's horses were not so utterly worn out." +</p> + +<p> +There was a distinct note of patronage in the tone in which this shrewd +and sensible remark was uttered, nor was this affected, I thought, but +rather the natural manner of a strong man speaking to a weak one. +</p> + +<p> +"Egad, you're right there, sir," cried Jack. "Nineteen out of twenty of +them couldn't be flayed into doing another five miles. I was over an hour +getting them from Milford, under five miles." +</p> + +<p> +"The Highlanders would march it in less," replied Master Freake, "and +this is not a campaign, but a race." +</p> + +<p> +"Where to?" It was Brocton who spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"London," was the prompt reply. "That's the heart of England, my lord, +and if Prince Charles gets into the heart he need not be concerned over +Wade marking time in the heels or the Duke sprawling about in its belly." +</p> + +<p> +"Your speech is light, Master Freake," said the rector with drunken sense +and gravity. "I trust it savoureth not of treasonable hopes." +</p> + +<p> +I turned during this absurd remark to glance at Brocton to see what +effect this excellent summary of the situation had had on him. To my +surprise I caught him looking so meaningly at the pimple-faced Major, that +I felt sure something was going to happen, and I was right. +</p> + +<p> +"God rot the man," said the Major thickly. "Does he say that I'm +sprawling about in somebody's belly?" He staggered to his feet, hand on +sword, and made to cross to the stranger, shouting, "Damnation to you, +I'll thrust something into your belly!" +</p> + +<p> +Brocton, not in the least to my surprise, made no attempt to interfere. +Jack couldn't, for I was in the way. His father began to splutter +helplessly. I shot out my foot, and swept the Major heavily to the floor. +I plucked him up by his collar as if he were a rabbit, and choked him till +his face was nearly black. Then I put him back in his chair, where he sat +huddled up and gasping. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I to him, with much politeness, "you are tired by the +exertions of the evening. But I like a man who sticks up for his +commander, and desire to have the honour of drinking your health." And I +toasted him complacently, smiling the while into his little pig's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +This terminated the trouble, which Master Freake had watched with quiet +amusement. For my own part I was now anxious to go, for I was learning +nothing. Accident favoured me, for a servant came in and whispered +something to Brocton which took him out of the room. I seized the +opportunity to follow, declining to allow Jack to accompany me, and +wishing him good-bye and good luck. "Remember about Kate," were his last +words, whispered eagerly as he loosed my hand and opened me the door. +</p> + +<p> +Several rooms opened on the landing, and I noticed that one door was +ajar. As I passed the slit of light I caught sight of the sergeant of +dragoons, and stopped beyond the door to listen. I heard Brocton's voice, +and caught the words, "Egad, I'll e'en try her. Take the best horse +available. There's no danger, but speed is everything." He dropped his +voice to a whisper and for a moment or two I caught nothing. Then, raising +his voice again, he said, "And now for your prize." I heard him move to +go, and darted ahead, silent as a bat in a barn, and a moment later was in +the noisy street. There was nothing to keep me now, and a few minutes +later I quietly lifted Marry-me-quick's latch, stepped into the room, and +observed at once that Mistress Waynflete's look imported news. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, little mother," said I to Mistress Tonks, "supper's the blessedest +word I know." +</p> + +<p> +"And the rabbit-stew's as good as done by now," she said, and went into +the back room to dish it up. +</p> + +<p> +"The man with the slit face has been," said Mistress Waynflete +composedly. "He came hunting for quarters, but Mistress Tonks frightened +him off. At any rate, he soon left." +</p> + +<p> +"Did he recognize you as 'Moll' of the Hanyards?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm quite sure that he did not. I turned my back the moment he entered, +and my hood was up. Moreover, I did not speak a word. Mother Tonks said +that I was staying here for the night because my father's house was full +of soldiers. She couldn't and wouldn't, she said, have a soldier here for +all the worshipful mayors in England. I was quite amused at the way she +talked him back to the door and through it." +</p> + +<p> +The little woman bustled in to lay the supper things. She was bubbling +over with elation. "It'll be another ten or fifteen minutes, will the +rabbit-stew. The lady will have told you about ugly mug, Master Oliver. I +got him out in no time. His head was all mouth like a cod-fish. I'll soon +be back. I expect you're both hungry." +</p> + +<p> +Off she bustled again, and we again settled down to our talk. I was +anxious to see if she could throw any light on Brocton's dealing with her +father. His conduct was to me wholly inexplicable. Then, too, there was +his obvious understanding with Major Tixall in the matter of the latter's +attack on Master Freake. Who was this stranger and why had he incurred +Brocton's enmity? Here was a whole string of puzzles awaiting solution. +But before I could start the conversation we were again interrupted. The +latch clicked, the door opened, and in walked my Lord Brocton. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="6">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<h3>MY LORD BROCTON</h3> + +<p> +I was as new to a life of action as an hour-old duckling is to water, and +this ironical upset of all my plans left me helpless. The very last man +whom I wanted to see Mistress Waynflete was here, his plumed hat sweeping +to the floor, triumph on his handsome face and in his easy, languid tones. +Indeed, more astonishing than his being here, was his manner and bearing. +At Master Dobson's, a natural remark of mine had beaten all his wits out +of him. Here his assurance was such that it puzzled me out of action. +</p> + +<p> +"My sergeant, madam," he began, "no mean judge, since he has seen the +reigning beauties of half the capitals of Europe, told me to expect a +prize, but it is the prize. Master Wheatman, you are not, I am told, as +good a judge of cattle as Turnip Townshend, but you are, let me tell you, +a better one of women. I understand you know. Both acres and solatium +shall be mine in any event. And, dear Margaret, though I do not understand +what your haughtiness is doing here alone with my farmer friend, I need +hardly say that your devoted servant greets you with all humility." +</p> + +<p> +Again his hat curved in mockery through the air. He replaced it on his +head, drew his rapier, with quick turns of his wrist swished the supple +blade through the air till it sang, then flashed it out at me like the +tongue of an adder, and said, "Sit you still, Farmer Wheatman, sit you +still. Move but your hand and I spit you like a lark on a skewer. So, +little man, so!" +</p> + +<p> +The contempt in his words stirred the gall in my liver, but I neither +spoke nor shifted, and he continued, addressing her, but with cold, amused +eyes fixed on me, "You see, sweet Margaret, how yokel blood means yokel +mood. Your turnip-knight freezes at the sight of steel." +</p> + +<p> +In part at least he spoke truth. I had rarely seen a naked sword, other +than our time-worn and useless relic of the doughty Smite-and-spare-not, +and had never sat thus at the point of one drawn in earnest on myself. It +is easy to blame me, and at the back of my own mind I was blaming and +cursing myself, as I sat helpless there. I was keen as the blade he bore +to help her, for here was her hour of uttermost need, but I did not see +that I should be capable of much service with a hole in my heart, and he +had me at his mercy beyond a doubt, so long as he had me in his eye. No, +galling as it was, there was nothing to do but to wait the turn of events. +Something might divert his attention. One second was all I wanted, and I +sat there praying for it and ready for it. Meanwhile the scene, the talk, +and she were full of interest. +</p> + +<p> +Marry-me-quick's cottage was no hovel, either for size or appointments. +Brocton was standing with his back to a dresser. On his left was the outer +door, and on his right, between him and Mistress Waynflete, the door in +the party wall leading to the back room where the rabbit-stew was now +being dished up. Madam and I sat on opposite sides of the large hearth, a +small round table, drawn close to the fire for comfort and covered with +the supper things, occupied part of the space between us, but there was +plenty of room for action. When Brocton had stretched out his rapier +towards me in threat and command, the point was perhaps three feet from my +breast, and he could master my slightest movement. +</p> + +<p> +And Mistress Waynflete. At the bridge in the afternoon I had noticed that +while danger for her father had stirred her heart to its dearest depth, +danger for herself troubled her not one whit. When I looked at her now +there was no fear in her face, which was calm as the face of a pictured +saint, but I saw questionings there and knew they were of me. Plainly as +if she spoke the words, her great blue eyes were saying, "Am I leaning on +a broken reed?" As she caught my look she turned to Brocton, and I gritted +my teeth and listened. +</p> + +<p> +"So your lordship has found me!" She spoke easily and lightly. "How small +the world must be since it cannot find room for me to avoid you!" +</p> + +<p> +"Say rather, dear mistress, that my love draws me unerringly towards you." +</p> + +<p> +"I thought I gathered that there was another motive for your coming here +to-night." +</p> + +<p> +"Margaret, believe me, I am distraught," he said, not wholly in mockery +it seemed to me. +</p> + +<p> +"So distraught, it seems, that you neglect your plainest duty as an +officer in order to corrupt, if you can, a supposed country maiden, of +whom you have heard by chance. His Grace of Cumberland will be glad to +hear of such devotion." +</p> + +<p> +"Won't you listen to me, Margaret? You know I love you." +</p> + +<p> +"If you were offering me, my lord, the only kind of love which an +honourable man can offer, I should still refuse it. Your reputation, +character, and person are all equally disagreeable to me, and that you +should imagine that there is even the smallest chance of your succeeding, +is an insult for which, were I a man, you should pay dearly." +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary, dear Margaret," he replied, in his most silken tones, +plainly shifting to more favourable ground, "I fancy that the chance is by +no means small." +</p> + +<p> +"Your fancy does not interest me," was the cold reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Every woman has her price, if I may adapt a phrase of the late Sir +Robert's, and I can pay yours. Excuse my frankness, Margaret. It would be +unpardonable if we were not alone. Yon cattle-drover hardly counts as +audience, I fancy, for he is already as good as strung up as a rebel." +</p> + +<p> +After a long silence, so long that I tried to find an explanation of it, +she said, "You refer to my father?" There was a quaver in her voice which +all her bravery could not suppress. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly, Margaret, to your dear father." +</p> + +<p> +"In times like this, no doubt, your conduct in arresting him will pass +for legal, but fortunately some evidence will be required, and you have +none. The fact is that in your loyal zeal you have acted too soon." +</p> + +<p> +"I thought your daughterly instincts would be aroused," he answered, +scoffing openly as he saw his advantage. "They have lain dormant longer +than I expected. Believe me, Margaret, for my own purposes I have acted in +the very nick of time, and you will do well to drop your unfounded hopes +of the future. Your father's fate is certain if I act, for I can call a +witness--you remember Major Tixall, a beery but insinuating person--whose +evidence is enough to hang him fifty times over. Whether or not I produce +it depends, as I say, on the depth of your affection for him." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall know how to save my father, my lord, when the time comes. Now, +perhaps, having played your last card, you will leave me." +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Margaret," was the cool reply, "your innocence amazes me. My +last card! Not at all, sweet queen. You are my last card." +</p> + +<p> +"I? How so?" +</p> + +<p> +"You, too, are a rebel, if I choose to say the word, and a dangerous one +to boot. So here's your choice: come where love awaits you or go where the +gallows awaits you." +</p> + +<p> +"And if I could so far forget my nature as to come where love of your +sort, the love of a mere brute beast, awaits me, you would forget +everything?" +</p> + +<p> +"Everything, Margaret." +</p> + +<p> +"Your duty to your King included?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly. There's nothing I will not do, or leave undone, at your +behest for your fair sake." +</p> + +<p> +"You flatter me, my lord, far above my poor deserts. And now, if your +lordship will excuse me,"--she arose at the words, pale and determined as +death,--"I will e'en go and give myself up to some responsible officer and +acquaint him with your conduct." +</p> + +<p> +"He would not believe you, my sweet Margaret." +</p> + +<p> +"You forget I have a witness, my lord." For the first time during the +conversation she looked across at me. +</p> + +<p> +"He would not be there to witness, Margaret. Surely you suppose that I am +wise enough to prevent that move. Keep on sitting still, Farmer Oliver. +I'm glad, believe me, to see you so interested. A difficult piece of +virtue she is, to be sure, and if you could only escape a hanging, which +you will not, you might have learned to-night a useful lesson in the art +of managing a woman. It's an art, sir, a great, a curious art, and I +flatter myself I am somewhat of a master therein." +</p> + +<p> +All this time he had kept me in his eye, and the point of his rapier was +ready for my slightest move. It had grieved me to the heart to hear him +shame this noble woman so, bargaining for her honour as lightly as a +marketing housewife chaffers for a pullet. How she had felt it, I could +judge in part by the deathly paleness of her face, and the tight hold she +was keeping on herself. She dropped into her chair again and buried her +face in her hands. He only smiled as one who presages a welcome triumph. I +kept still and silent, never moving my eyes from his, praying and waiting +for my second. +</p> + +<p> +She raised her head and spoke again: "If I did not know you, my lord, I +would plead with you. Two men's lives are in my hands, you say, and there +is"--she paused--"but one way"--another terrible pause--"of saving them." +</p> + +<p> +"You want me to throw in the cattle-drover?" he asked gaily. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she replied, in a scarcely audible whisper. +</p> + +<p> +"It's throwing in five hundred acres of land each of which my father +values at a Jew's eye, let me tell you, but, egad, Margaret, you're not +dear even at that. Run away home, Farmer Wheatman, and don't be fool +enough to play the rebel again." +</p> + +<p> +I sat still and silent. Speech was useless, and action not yet possible. +That keen swordsman's eye must be diverted somehow. There was a God in +heaven, and the rabbit-stew would be ready soon. It was useless to attempt +to force matters. And as for his taunts, well, he was but feathering my +arrows. So I sat on like a stone. +</p> + +<p> +"Go, Master Wheatman," she urged faintly, but I did not even turn to look +at her. My heart was thumping on my ribs, my nerves tingling, my muscles +involuntarily tightening for a spring. +</p> + +<p> +"These yokels are so dull and lifeless, Margaret. He cannot understand +our impatience." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crimson to the +roots of her hair at this vicious insult. "Off, my man," he added to me, +"or I'll prick your bull's hide." He thrust out his rapier to give point +to the threat. Nothing moved me. My eyes were glued to his. +</p> + +<p> +And now the door on his right hand opened, and little Mistress +Marry-me-quick appeared with our supper. She saw the sword directed at the +breast of the one man on earth she loved with all the fervour of her +honest, womanly heart. The sight scattered her senses. With a +nerve-racking shriek she flopped heavily to the floor, and the rabbit-stew +flew from her hands and crashed loudly at his feet. It was too much for his +wine-sodden nerves. His eyes turned, his body slackened, the point of his +rapier flagged floorward. God had given me my second. +</p> + +<p> +I bounded at him, not straight, but somewhat to his left. He recovered, +but, anticipating a straight rush, thrust clean out on the expected line +of my leap. His blade ran through between my coat and waistcoat, and the +guard thumped sore on my ribs. Then he was mine. +</p> + +<p> +I struck hard on heart and belt and knocked the wind out of his body. He +sucked for breath like a drowning man. Now he could not call for help, and +I finished him off, quickly, gladly, and smilingly. His twitching fingers +fumbled at his belt as if seeking a pistol. Finding none, he made no +further attempt to defend himself, and covered his face with his arms to +keep off my blows, but I struck him with such fierce strength on his +unprotected temples that he weakened and dropped them. His ghastly, +bleeding face turned upwards, his dazed eyes pleading for the mercy he had +denied her a moment ago. It was brute appealing to brute in vain, and with +one last blow on the chin that drove his teeth together like the crack of +a pistol and nearly tore his head off his shoulders, I knocked him +senseless to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +His rapier hung in the skirt of my coat, so close had I been to sure and +sudden death. I drew it out and tossed it to the floor at his side. "I +wish, madam," said I, reaching out for mother's domino, "that we could +have saved the rabbit-stew." +</p> + +<p> +"Is he dead?" she whispered, with white lips, coming forward and looking +shudderingly down on him with troubled eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"No such luck," said I. "He may be round in five minutes, but that's +enough, though poor little Marry-me-quick will have to be left to fend for +herself." I helped her into the domino, pulled the hood over the wonderful +hair, and seized my own hat. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "the northern halt of Staffordshire is +before us, and the sooner some of it is behind us the better." With these +words I led her to the door, which I closed carefully behind me, and into +the street. +</p> + +<p> +A little explanation will make our subsequent movements clearer. The +eastern side of Stafford is roughly bow-shaped. The main street is the +straight string and the wood is the curve of the wall, now mostly fallen +down and in ruins, the line of which was followed by the street we were +in, and only some fifty yards from the southern end of the string. The +marksman's thumb represents the market square, and the arrow the line of +the east gate street. +</p> + +<p> +No cat in the town knew it better than I did, or could travel it better +in the dark. Indeed, our only danger now came from the moon, but, +fortunately, she had not yet climbed very high. Mistress Waynflete placed +her arm in mine and we turned to the right, away from the still noisy and +crowded main street. We passed an ale-house bursting with customers, the +central figure among whom, plainly visible from the street, was Pippin +Pat, an Irishman with so huge a head that he had become a celebrity under +this name for miles around. He had made himself rolling drunk and, +suitably to the occasion, had been made into a Highlander by the simple +process of robbing him of his breeches and rubbing his head with ruddle. +He was a sorry sight enough, but, the main thing, he had attracted an +enormous company. I rejoiced to see him, for it meant that the wicket of +his master's tanyard, half a stone's throw ahead, would be unbolted. This +would save us a longish detour and lessen the danger of being observed. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at the tanyard gate, I tried the wicket. It was unbolted, as I +had anticipated, and we were soon in the quiet and obscurity of the +tanyard. The far side of the yard was separated by a low stone wall from +the end of a blind alley leading into Eastgate Street. I guided my +companion safely by the edges of the tan-pits, and on arriving at the +wall, I made no apology but lifted her on to it. As she sat there a shaft +of moonlight lit up her fine, brave face. I feasted my eyes upon it for a +moment, and then made to leap over to assist her to the other side, but +she stayed me with a hand on each shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"I will go no farther, Master Wheatman," she said in a low, troubled +voice, "till you forgive me." +</p> + +<p> +"Forgive you?" I cried, astounded. "Forgive you? What for?" +</p> + +<p> +"For thinking meanly of you. I thought you were afraid of Brocton. Not +until that lion leap of yours did I realize how cleverly and nobly you had +sat there through his insults, foreseeing the exact moment when you could +master him. My only explanation, I do not offer it as an excuse, is that +the utter beast in Brocton makes it hard for me to think well of any man. +Oh, believe me, I am ashamed, confounded, and miserable. Say you forgive +me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," I said laughingly, "the next time I play the knight-errant, may +God send me a less observant damsel. There's nothing to forgive. The plain +truth is that I was frightened, a little bit. But I'm new to this sort of +thing, and I hope to improve." Then, after a pause, I met her eyes full +with mine and added, "As we go on." +</p> + +<p> +"Frightened," she said scornfully, "you frightened, you who leaped +unarmed on the best swordsman in London? No, don't mock me, Master +Wheatman, forgive me." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course I do, and thank you for your kind words. And we've both got +some one to forgive." +</p> + +<p> +She smiled radiantly--"Whom? And what for?" +</p> + +<p> +I leaped over the wall, and put my arms around her to lift her down. +</p> + +<p> +"Marry-me-quick, for dropping the rabbit-stew." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="7">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL</h3> + +<p> +We slipped down the blind alley and came out in the street leading to the +East Gate. There was still great plenty of people strolling up and down, +for night had not yet killed off the novelty and excitement caused by the +arrival of the army. The smaller houses were crowded with soldiery, +hob-nobbing with the folk on whom they were billeted, and all were yelling +out, "Let the cannakin clink!" and other rowdy ditties in the intervals of +drinking. At the East Gate itself, a fire blazed, and pickets warmed +themselves round it, while along the street late-coming baggage and +ammunition wagons were trailing wearily. It was idle to expect to pass +unseen, so we plunged into the throng, threaded through the wagons, and +skirted leftward till we arrived at a quieter street running down to the +line of the wall. +</p> + +<p> +Here every brick and stone was as a familiar friend, for the little +grammar school backed on to the wall at the very spot where the main +street led through the old north gate of the town. Old Master Bloggs lived +in a tiny house on the side of the school away from the gate. There were +the candles flickering in the untidy den in which the old man passed all +his waking hours out of school-time, and there, I doubted not, they would +be guttering away if the Highlanders sacked the town. I led the way across +the little fore-court, paled off from the street by wooden railings, +gently opened the door, and walked in to the dark passage. +</p> + +<p> +The study door was ajar, and we peeped in. There the old, familiar figure +was, eyesight feebler, shoulders rounder, hair whiter, and clothing +shabbier than of yore, crumpled over a massive folio. He was reading +aloud, in a monotonous, squeaky half-pitch. Latin hexameters they were, +for even his voice could not hide all the music in them, and as I listened +it became clear that the old man had that night been moved to select +something appropriate to the occasion, for he was going through the +account of the fall of Troy in the second Aeneid. +</p> + +<p> +I put my fingers on my lips and crept on, followed by Mistress Waynflete. +In the little back room I whispered, "My old school and schoolmaster. We +will not disturb the old man. Poor little Marry-me-quick may have to +suffer on our account, and old Bloggs shall at any rate have the excuse of +knowing nothing about us. He's happy enough over the fall of Troy. Nothing +that he can do can help us. Let him be." +</p> + +<p> +She nodded assent and I looked round. Opening a cupboard, I found half a +loaf of bread, a nipperkin of milk, and a rind of cheese. "Eat," said I, +"and think it's rabbit-stew." I made her take all the milk, but shared the +bread and cheese. Troy went on falling steadily meanwhile, and when we had +finished our scanty nuncheon I once more led the way, and we passed out +into the little yard behind the schoolhouse, and gained the playground, +the outer boundary of which was the town wall, here some twelve feet high +and in a fair state of preservation. Many generations of schoolboys had +cut and worn a series of big notches on each side of the wall, and by long +practice I could run up and down in a trice to fetch ball or tipcat which +had been knocked over. +</p> + +<p> +From the bridge at the Hanyards onwards, Mistress Waynflete had always +acted promptly and exactly to my wish. I felt a boor, and was in truth a +boor, in comparison with her. Brocton's 'yokel blood' gibe had put murder +into my blows, but it had truth enough in it to make it rankle like a +poisoned arrow. Yet here was this wonder-woman, trustful as a child and +meeker than a milkmaid. My work was new, but at any rate I had sometimes +dreamed that I could do a man's work when I got my chance, and I had limbs +of leather and steel to do it with. My thoughts, however, were newer +still, and had no background of daydreams to stand against. Moreover, +things had gone with such a rush that I had had no time to shake and sift +them into order. At the foot of that wall all I knew, and that but dimly, +was that there were thoughts that made a man's work the one thing worth +living for. +</p> + +<p> +"Get your breath, madam," said I. "You want it all now, and there's no +need to hurry." +</p> + +<p> +She leaned easily against the wall, and peered round to make out her +surroundings. The only result could be to give her the impression that she +was cooped up like a rat in a trap, but with characteristic indifference +for herself, she only said: +</p> + +<p> +"And this was your school?" +</p> + +<p> +"For many years, seven or more." +</p> + +<p> +She was silent for a time and then went on. +</p> + +<p> +"You have led a quiet life, Master Wheatman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ha," thought I, "she's gauging my capacity to help her," and added +aloud, bitterly reminiscent, "The life of a yokel, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"You have read much?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I'm fond of reading. It passes the long winter nights." +</p> + +<p> +"And no doubt you know by heart the merry gests of Robin Hood and the +admirable exploits of Claude Duval?" +</p> + +<p> +I felt her eyes on me in the dark, and longed for the sun so that I could +see the blue glint in them. +</p> + +<p> +"No such rubbish, indeed," said I hotly. It was a slight on Master +Bloggs, droning away yonder at the fall of Troy, not to say the sweet old +vicar. +</p> + +<p> +"What then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Livy and Caesar, and stuff like that, but mainly Virgil." +</p> + +<p> +"Then it's very, very curious," she whispered emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt yokel blood ought not to run like wine under the mighty pulse of +Virgil, and I sourly asked, "What's curious, madam? Old Bloggs has nothing +to teach except Latin, and I happened to take to it. Why curious?" +</p> + +<p> +"Really, Master Wheatman, not curious? Here we are in a narrow yard at +the foot of a high wall. I'm perfectly certain that within five minutes I +shall be whisked over to the other side. And you got that out of Virgil?" +</p> + +<p> +"Straight out of Virgil, madam. Stafford was our Troy, and this the wall +thereof. I've got in and out thousands of times." +</p> + +<p> +She peered comically around the dark playground and said gaily, "I see no +wooden horse. There should be one, I know. Master Dryden says so, and he +knows all about Virgil." +</p> + +<p> +"Poof," said I. "If old Bloggs heard you, he'd tingle to thrash you black +and blue." +</p> + +<p> +"He couldn't now I've got my breath again," she laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad of that. Let me explain. Here is a ladder of notches in the +wall, left and right alternately. Feel for them." She did so, and I went +on: "They are roughly three feet apart on each side. I'll climb up first +and assist you up the last few. Your skirts will trouble you, I fear." +</p> + +<p> +"Not much, for I'll turn them up." She promptly did so, and fastened the +edges round her waist. She also discarded the long, cumbrous domino, and I +took it from her. +</p> + +<p> +"Watch me," said I, "and follow when I give the word. I'll have a look +round first." +</p> + +<p> +Up I went, hand over hand, as easily as ever I had done it. I crouched +down on the top of the wall, which, fortunately, lay in the shadow of the +schoolhouse. I saw in the sky the reflected glare of a fire at the north +gate, another picket I supposed, but there were houses without the gate, +and these were dark and silent. There was no fear of our being observed. +</p> + +<p> +"Come!" I whispered. +</p> + +<p> +She started boldly and came up with cheering swiftness. I spread the +domino in readiness, then stretched down to help her, and in another +moment she was sitting the wall as a saddle. +</p> + +<p> +"Splendid, for a novice," I said. +</p> + +<p> +"And a novice in skirts, short ones." +</p> + +<p> +She went first down the other side, and I nearly pitched headlong in +assisting her as far down as possible. She lowered her skirts while I +followed and then I helped her into the domino, rejoicing in the silken +caress of her hair on my hands as I arranged the hood, a pleasant piece of +officiousness for which I got thanks I did not deserve, and off we started. +</p> + +<p> +Again she asked nothing as to what we were going to do and whither we +were bound. The blazing windows of a comfortable inn might have been in +sight for aught she cared to all outward seeming. Yet here she was, close +on midnight, in bitterly cold weather, stepping out into rough and unknown +country in company with a man she had only known a few hours. +</p> + +<p> +I went ahead and thought it over. For ten minutes we picked our way in +the deep shadow along the foot of the wall, <i>per opaca locorum</i>, as +the great weaver of words puts it, and then I turned outwards into the +open field and the clear moonlight. Of her own accord she placed her arm +in mine, and we stepped it out bravely together. +</p> + +<p> +"We are in unenclosed land here," I explained. "On our right is a patch +which varies between bog and marsh and pool, according to the rains. The +townsmen call it the King's Pool, whatever state it is in. Just ahead, you +can see the line of it, is a little stream, the Pearl Brook. If it isn't +frozen over yet, I can easily carry you across, as it's not more than six +inches deep. The freemen of the Ancient Borough--yon little town has +slumbered there nearly eight hundred years--have, by immemorial custom, +the right of fishing in the Pearl Brook with line and bent pin." +</p> + +<p> +"They do not catch many thirty-pound jack, I suppose?" +</p> + +<p> +"Dear me, no. But it was here I learned to like fishing, and I went on +from minnows and jacksharps to pike." +</p> + +<p> +"And wandering damsels," she interrupted, with a laugh that sounded to me +like the music of silver bells. A minute later, on the edge of the brook, +she said vexedly, "And it's not frozen over." But I had already noticed +that fact with great elation. +</p> + +<p> +"Not more than six inches, you say," she muttered, and made to step in. +</p> + +<p> +"And if it were not so much as six barley-corns," I said, "I would not +suffer you to wade it. What am I for, pray you, madam?" +</p> + +<p> +Without more ado, I lifted her once more in my arms--the fourth time that +day--and started. I cursed the narrowness of the Pearl Brook. I could +almost have hopped across it, but by dawdling aslant the stream I had her +sweet face near mine in the moonlight, and my arms round her proud body, +for a couple of minutes. "Yokel blood or not," I thought, "this is +something my Lord Brocton will never do." +</p> + +<p> +A quarter of an hour later, after helping her up a short, steep scarp, we +stood and looked back on the little town. Its roofs were bathed in +moonlight, and the great church tower stood out in grey against the +blue-black sky. Patches of dull, ruddy glow in the sky marked the sites of +the picket-fires, and there came to us, like the gibbering of ghosts in +the wind, the dying notes of the day's excitement. To our left, bits of +silver ribbon marked the twistings of the river, and that darker line in +the distant darkness was the hills of my home and boyhood. At their feet +was the Hanyards, and Kate and mother. There was a little mist in my eyes, +and the eyes I turned and looked into were brimming with tears. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "let us on to our inn." +</p> + +<p> +"Our inn!" she echoed, and there was dismay in her voice. "Our inn, and I +haven't a pennypiece. For safety, I put my hat, my riding jacket, and my +purse under the bed at Marry-me-quick's, and the fight and hurry drove +them out of my mind completely." +</p> + +<p> +"And I'm in the same case exactly," said I, and laughed outright. I had +little use for money at the Hanyards, least of all in the pockets of my +Sunday best, and not until she told me her plight did I realize the fact +that in the elation of starting from home, I had forgotten that money +might be necessary. Though I laughed, I watched her closely. Now she would +break down. No woman's heart could stand the shock. +</p> + +<p> +"My possessions," she said, "are precisely two handkerchiefs, one of +Madame du Pont's washballs, and most of a piece of the famous +marry-me-quick." +</p> + +<p> +I had been mistaken. She made no ado about our serious situation, but +spoke with a grave humour that fetched me greatly. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite a lengthy inventory," I replied. "My contributions to the common +stock are--" and I fumbled in my pockets--"item, one handkerchief; item, +a pocket-knife; item, one pipe and half a paper of tobacco; item, one +flask, two-thirds full of Mistress Kate Wheatman's priceless peppermint +cordial, the sovereign remedy against fatigue, cold, care, and the +humours; item, something unknown which has been flopping against my hip +and is, by the outward feel of it, a thing to rejoice over, to wit, one of +Kate's pasties." +</p> + +<p> +I pushed my hand down for it, and then laughed louder than ever, as I +drew forth my dumpy little Virgil. +</p> + +<p> +"Item," I concluded, "the works of the divine master, P. Vergilius Maro, +hidden in my pocket by that mischievous minx and monkey, Kate Wheatman of +the Hanyards." And I told the story. +</p> + +<p> +"Then if Kate had not hidden your beloved Virgil, you would not have gone +fishing?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sure I shouldn't." +</p> + +<p> +"Life turns on trifles, Master Wheatman, and to a pretty girl's sisterly +jest I owe everything that has happened since I first saw you on the river +bank." +</p> + +<p> +"We owe it, madam," I corrected gently, and I turned to go on, for I saw +that she was moved and troubled at the evil she thought she had brought on +me. Evil! I was enjoying every breath I drew and every step I took, and my +heart was like a live coal in the midst of my bosom. +</p> + +<p> +"Have no fear, Mistress Margaret," said I cheerfully, sweeping my hand +out. "There's broad Staffordshire before us, a goodly land full of meat +and malt and money, and we'll have our share of it." +</p> + +<p> +"But you'll have to steal it for me." +</p> + +<p> +"'Convey the wise it call," "I quoted. +</p> + +<p> +"That's better," and she smiled up at me in the moonlight. "Virgil puts +you right above my poor wits, but say you love Shakespeare too, and we +shall have one of the great things of life in common." +</p> + +<p> +"I do, madam, but you must learn to rate things at their true value. You +speak French?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes." +</p> + +<p> +"And Italian?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"And play the harpsichord?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"Then, madam, I am a half-educated boor compared with you, for I know +none of these things. But though I do not know the French or Italian for +marry-me-quick, if you will get it out of your pocket, I'll show you the +Staffordshire for half of it." +</p> + +<p> +We marched on gaily for another quarter of an hour, eating the sweet +morsel. Then I said, "Even an old traveller and campaigner like you will +be glad to learn that our inn is at hand." +</p> + +<p> +"Very glad, but I see no signs of it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, no," said I, "it's not exactly an inn, but just a plain barn. You +shall sleep soft and safe and warm, though, and even if we had money and +an inn was at hand, it would be foolish to go there. Your case is hard, +madam, and I wish I could offer you better quarters." +</p> + +<p> +Under the shelter of a round knoll clumped with pines, lay an ancient +farmhouse. We were approaching it from the front, and its sheds and barns +were at the rear. We therefore turned into the field and fetched a +circuit, and soon stood at the gate leading into the farmyard. No one +stirred, not even a dog barked, as I softly opened the gate and crept, +followed by Mistress Waynflete, to the nearest building. I pushed open the +door, we entered a barn, and were safe for the night. The moon shone +through the open door, and I saw that the barn was empty, probably because +the year's crops, as I knew to my sorrow, had been poor indeed in our +district. The fact that the barn was bare told in our favour, as no farm +hand would be likely to come near it should one be stirring before us next +morning. +</p> + +<p> +A rick stood handy in the yard, and on going to it I found that three or +four dasses of hay had been carved out ready for removal to the stalls. I +carried them to the shed, one by one, and mighty hot I was by the time I +dumped the last on the barn floor. Starting off again, I poached around in +another shed, and was lucky enough to find a pile of empty corn sacks. +Spreading these three or four deep in the far corner of the barn, I +covered them thickly with hay, and having reserved a sack on purpose, I +stuffed it loosely with hay to serve for a pillow. +</p> + +<p> +All this busy time Mistress Waynflete stood on the moonlit door-sill, +silent as a mouse, and when I stole quietly up to tell her all was ready, +I saw that her hands were clasped in front and her lips moved. I bared my +head and waited, for she had transformed this poor barn into a maiden's +sanctuary. +</p> + +<p> +She turned her face towards me. "Madam," said I, very quietly, "your bed +is ready, and you are tired out and dead for sleep. Pray come!" +</p> + +<p> +Still silent, she stepped up and examined my rude handiwork. Then she +curled herself up on the hay, and I covered her with more hay till she lay +snug enough to keep out another Great Frost. +</p> + +<p> +"Good night, madam, and sweet sleep befall you," and I was turning away. +</p> + +<p> +"Ho!" she said, "and pray where do you propose to sleep?" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall nest under the rick-straddle." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," and her tone was almost unpleasant, "for the modesty you attribute +unto me, I thank you. For the gratitude you decline to attribute unto me, +I dislike you. But pray give me credit for a little common sense. I shall +desire your services in the morning, and I do not want to find you under a +rick, frozen to a fossil." +</p> + +<p> +"No, madam." +</p> + +<p> +She sprang out of bed, tumbling the hay in all directions. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman, I will not pretend to misunderstand you, and indeed, I +thank you, but you are going to put your bed here," stamping her foot, "so +that we can talk without raising our voices. I am much more willing to +sleep in the same barn with you than in the same town with my Lord +Brocton. Where's your share of the sacks?" +</p> + +<p> +I did without sacks, but I fetched more chunks of hay, and she helped me +strew a bed for myself close up to her own. I tucked her up once more, and +then made myself cosy. I was miserable lest I should snore. Yokels so +often do. Joe Braggs, for instance, would snore till the barn door rattled. +</p> + +<p> +I remembered the cordial, and we each had a good pull at the flask. I +felt for days the touch of her smooth, soft fingers on mine as she took it. +</p> + +<p> +"It certainly does warm you up," she said. "I feel all aglow without and +within." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I may take it that you are comfortable?" +</p> + +<p> +"If it were not for two things, I should say this was a boy-and-girl +escapade of ours, every moment of which was just pure enjoyment." +</p> + +<p> +"Naturally you are uneasy about your father, but I cannot think he will +come to any immediate harm. Why Brocton should send him north instead of +south is, I confess, a mystery, but to-morrow will solve it. And what else +makes you uneasy?" +</p> + +<p> +"You," she replied, very low and brief. +</p> + +<p> +"I? And pray, madam, what have I done to make you uneasy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Met me." Still the same tone. +</p> + +<p> +"I am not able to talk to you in the modish manner, nor do I think you +would wish me to try to ape my betters, so I say plainly that our meeting +has not made me uneasy. Why then you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Had you not met me, you would now be asleep at the Hanyards, a free and +happy country gentleman. Instead you are here, a suspect, a refugee, an +outlaw, one tainted with rebellion, the jail for certain if you are +caught, and then--" +</p> + +<p> +She broke off abruptly, and I think I heard a low sob. +</p> + +<p> +"And then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps the gibbet." +</p> + +<p> +"It's true that the thieving craft is a curst craft for the gallows, but +to-morrow's trouble is like yesterday's dinner, not worth thinking on. We +are here, safe and comfortable. Let that suffice. And to-day, so far from +doing harm at which you must needs be uneasy, you have wrought a miracle." +</p> + +<p> +"Wrought a miracle? What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"You have found a cabbage, and made a man. Good night, Mistress Waynflete." +</p> + +<p> +"Good night, Master Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +I imitated the regular breathing of a tired, sleeping man. In a few +minutes it became clear that she was really asleep, and I pretended no +longer, but stretched out comfortably in the fragrant hay and soon slept +like a log. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE CONJURER'S CAP</h3> + +<p> +I awoke between darkness and daylight. Mistress Waynflete still slept +peacefully and there was as yet no need to rouse her. I had slept in my +shoes, but now, I drew them off, lifted the bar of the door, and stole out +to look around. Not a soul was stirring about the farm, and the only +living creature in sight was a sleepy cock, which scuttled off noisily at +my approach. I entered a cowshed, where a fine, patient cow turned a +reproachful eye on me, as if rebuking me for my too early visit. I +cheerily clucked and slapped her on to her hoofs, and then, failing to +find any sort of cup or can, punched my hat inside out and filled it with +warm foaming milk. With this spoil I hurried back to our quarters. +</p> + +<p> +I had to leave the door open, and this gave me light enough to look more +closely at my companion. She was still sleeping, her face calmly content, +and so had she slept through the night, for the coverlet of hay was rising +and falling undisturbed on her breast. It was now time to wake her, and, +having no free hand, I knelt down to nudge her with my elbow. As I did so, +her face changed. A look of concern came over it, then one of hesitation, +then a sweet smile, chasing each other as gleam chases gloom across the +meadows on an April day. She was dreaming, dreaming pleasantly, and it was +to a hard world that I awakened her. +</p> + +<p> +At my second nudge she half-opened her eyes and murmured, "It's very +wide." Then my greeting aroused her fully, and she blushed wondrous red +and beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +"Good morrow, Mistress Waynflete," said I. "I grieve to disturb you, and, +pray you, do not move too abruptly or over goes the breakfast." +</p> + +<p> +"Good morrow, Master Oliver," she replied. "I have slept well. I feel as +if I've quite enjoyed it. We do enjoy sleep, I think, sometimes." +</p> + +<p> +"Or the dreams it brings, madam." +</p> + +<p> +She glanced quickly at me, as if afraid that I had the power of reading +dream-thoughts, and gaily said, "And breakfast ready! This is even better +than the Paris fashion. What is it? More of dear Kate's cordial?" +</p> + +<p> +I did not know what the Paris fashion of breakfast was, and she did not +enlighten me. Anyhow, I, the yokel, had improved on it, and that was +something. +</p> + +<p> +"A far better brewage, madam," I said, "but you must pardon the +Staffordshire fashion of serving it." +</p> + +<p> +She sat up, took the cap, and drank heartily, the dawn still in her eyes +and cheeks, and masses of yellow hair tumbling down from under her hood on +throat and bosom. When she handed back the cap, I could not forbear from +saying, "You look charming after your night's rest, and I profess that +tear of milk on the tip of your nose becomes you admirably." With the rim +of my cap at my lips, I added with mock concern, "Have a care, Mistress +Waynflete, or you'll rub off tip as well as tear." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose you thought 'As a jewel of gold' and the rest of it," she +said, squinting comically down to examine her nose. +</p> + +<p> +"Really, no, madam; I thought of nothing so scandalous, from the Bible +though it be. I thought of--of...." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm all ears," she said archly. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm a poor hand at turning compliments to ladies," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary, you turn them admirably. See!" She held up my sopping +cap, and laughed merrily. +</p> + +<p> +"It's ruined for best," said I, "but it will do for market days. And now, +madam, it's cold enough to freeze askers, as Joe Braggs says, and for +toilet you must e'en be content with first a shiver and then a shake. I +will await you at the yard gate, and pray close the door behind you. The +quicker the better." +</p> + +<p> +She rejoined me in two or three minutes. I closed the gate cautiously +behind me, and we started our journey. From the farm we got away quite +unobserved, but I looked behind me at every other step to make surer, till +we turned the top of the knoll, and it was with great relief that I saw +the chimney-pots sink out of sight. +</p> + +<p> +For a time we walked along briskly and in silence. So far I had carried +everything with a high hand and successfully, but the cold grey of the +morning began to creep into my thoughts as I looked ahead over miles and +miles of dreariness and danger. Houses were few and far between; every +village was a source of danger; the high roads were closed to us by our +fear of the troops. Further, the object we had in view was vague and +unformed, if not impossible of achievement, for even if we arrived at the +very place where Colonel Waynflete was held prisoner, what could we do to +help him? We should be safe from immediate need and danger if we could +reach the Prince's army, but where that was, and which way it was +travelling, were unknown to us. Certain it was that between us and any +real help ranged some thirty miles of cold, bleak country packed with +enemies for miles ahead. And here we were, on foot, penniless and hungry. +I had longed for a man's work; this was a regiment's. +</p> + +<p> +A sidelong look at my companion drove all the mist and frost out of my +heart. Something about her made me feel a sneak and a traitor even for +harbouring such thoughts. From the first she had asked for no help of +mine. I had forced it on her, or circumstances had forced me to help her +in helping myself, as when I cut our way from Marry-me-quick's cottage. +The more I was with her, the better I began to understand Brocton's +madness. It was the madness of the mere brute in him to be sure, and a man +should kick the brute in him into its kennel, though he cannot at times +help hearing it whine. Her majestic beauty had dazzled him as a flame +dazzles a moth, but at this stage, at any rate, it was not her beauty that +made me her thrall. That I could have withstood. Because she was so +beautiful, so stately, so compelling, she made no appeal to me. What I +mean is, that I did not fall in love with her at first sight, simply +because the mere stupidity of such a thing kept me from doing it. +Glow-worms do not fall in love with stars or thistles with sycamores. She +was something to be worshipped, served at any cost, saved at any +sacrifice, but not loved. No, that was for some lucky one of her own class +and state, not for a simple squireling like me. Her comradeship, her +graciousness, her sweet equalizing of our positions, were, I felt, just +the simple, natural adornments of the commanding modesty which was her +spiritual garment. +</p> + +<p> +Manlike, however, I had an evil streak in me, and thence, later, came +madness. In any company I must be top dog. I had been head of the school, +not because of any special cleverness, but because I would burst rather +than be second to anybody in anything. I had fought and fought, at all +hazards, until not a boy in school or town dare come near me. So now, +since my Lord Brocton--and many a lord beside, I doubted not--had failed, +I must needs step in and say, "I will please her, whether she like it or +not." And so, plain countryman as I was, I had done my work ungrudgingly +but not, I feared, too modestly, and since I could not speak court-like, I +had been over-masterful, and given her mood for mood, and turned no cheek +for her sweet smiting. And as I had of old time licked every lad in +Stafford, so now neither Staffordshire nor all the King's men in it should +turn me back. Through she should go, and in safety and comfort, so that +when the time came for me to hand over my precious charge to a worthier, +she should say that the yokel had done a man's work and done it +gentlemanly. Therefore, when Mistress Waynflete looked up to me from the +bleak uplands with serious, questioning eyes, I said, as calmly as if we +were pacing the garden at the Hanyards, with Kate and Jane active in the +kitchen behind us, "Ham and eggs for breakfast!" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't see any," she said, in answering mood, scanning the fields +around us. "Not that that matters. I didn't see the steps, but they were +there. You make me think, Master Wheatman, of a Turk I saw in a booth at +Vienna, who drew rabbits and rose-bushes out of an empty hat. +Staffordshire is your conjurer's hat. And I do like ham and eggs." +</p> + +<p> +My assurance and her comfortable belief in it made us both brighter, and +we stepped out merrily. She gave me an entertaining account of Vienna, +where she had spent some months, and which was then the great outpost of +Christendom against the Turk. When this talk had brought us on to the +field of Hopton Heath, I gave her the best account I could of the battle +there in the Civil War time, and of the slaying of the Marquis of +Northampton. And this led me on to my pride of ancestry, and I told her of +Captain Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, a tower of strength to the +Parliament in these parts, who fought here and later on Naseby Field +itself. Many tales I told of him that had been handed down from one +generation of us to another, and how so greatly was he taken with his +incomparable lord-general that he had named his first-born son Oliver, and +ever since there had been an Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. Then I told +how one of these later Olivers, which one a matter of no consequence, had +written verses and put them into the mouth of the doughty +Smite-and-spare-not, sitting his horse, stark and strong, at the head of +his men on Naseby Field, and gazing with grim, grey eyes on the opening +movements of the fight. And, nothing loth, I trolled them out roundly +across the meadows, till the peewits screamed and a distant dog began to +bay: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "Princelet and king, and mitre and ring,<br> + Earl and baron and squire,<br> + Oliver worries 'em, harries and flurries 'em,<br> + With siege and slaughter and fire.<br> + With the arm of the Flesh and the sword of the Spirit,<br> + Push of pike and the Word,<br> + Smiting and praying, and praising and slaying,<br> + Oliver fights for the Lord.<br> + With the sword He brought the work is wrought,<br> + We finish here to-day.<br> + When yon rags and remnants of Babylon<br> + Are blown and battered away. +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + Hurrah for the groans of 'em, soon shall the bones of 'em,<br> + <i>Steady!</i> Hell-rakers at large,<br> + Rot under the sod. <i>Pass the word: 'God</i><br> + <i>Is our strength?'</i> There goes Oliver. <i>Charge!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +When I had done she applauded so that my face burned until I was +discommoded and fell into her trap. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish you'd written them, Master Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I did," said I grumpily, not liking to be bereft of any little +glory in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"What, you?" Her eyebrows arched and her lips curled. "You, oh, never. +'Smiting and praying'? 'The arm of the Flesh and the sword of the +Spirit.'" She mouthed the words deliciously. +</p> + +<p> +"But, doubtless, when you see my Lord Brocton again, you'll put in the +Word and the praying." Here her sweet voice trailed off into a dainty +snuffle: "'My dear lord, since out of the mouths of babes and sucklings +proceedeth wisdom, hearken, I pray you, unto me, Oliver Wheatman, to wit +of the Hanyards, and amend ye your ways lest I hit you over your cockscomb +again, and very much harder than before. Repent ye, my lord, for the hour +is at hand, and if you don't, I'll thump you into one of our Kate's +blackberry jellies.' And here endeth the goodly discourse of that saintly +rib-roaster, Master Hit-him-first-and-then-pray-for-him Wheatman of the +Hanyards." +</p> + +<p> +It was simply glorious to be so tormented by this witch with the dancing +blue eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"For this scandalous contempt of the Muses," said I soberly, "I shall +punish you by frizzling your share of the ham to a cinder." +</p> + +<p> +During my schoolboy days I had roamed the countryside till I knew it as +an open book, and this minute knowledge was our salvation now. The +immediate need was food, and food obtained without price and without our +being observed by anyone. At seven o'clock on a hard winter morning in +open country, this seemed to require a miracle. As a matter of fact, it +was as easy as shelling peas. +</p> + +<p> +Since crossing the heath we had been travelling nearer to one of the main +roads, that leading out of the east gate to the town, and now we got our +first glimpse of it lying like a broad, brown ribbon half-way down the +slope of a very steep hill. In the upper half, this hill was pretty well +wooded and the road cut clean through the wood, but between us and the +wood there lay the level crest of the hill, cut by hedges into several +fields, and crossed by a rough cart-track leading past a roomy, +one-storied cottage, grey-walled and brown-thatched, and on through the +wood into the main road. The cottage, with its outbuildings, made a +little farmstead, and here lived Dick Doley and his wife Sal, who did a +little farming, but mainly lived by huckstering. Today was market-day at +Stafford, and unless they had broken the routine of half a lifetime, they +would now be packing their little cart with marketables and soon be off +for the town. They had neither chick nor child, lad-servant nor lassie, +and they would leave the cottage empty and at our disposal. At this time +of the day I could, of course, have trusted both, but they were very human +bodies of a sort to rejoice the business side of the heart of Joe Braggs, +and it was best not to give them the chance of blabbing later in the day +when, for a moral certainty, they would both be market fresh. Besides, it +was unfair to thrust myself on the kindness of anyone. I had more than +once wondered what had happened to poor little Marry-me-quick. +</p> + +<p> +I scrambled through the hedge and peeped down the road. I was right. Dick +and his wife were busy loading up. So we waited behind the hedge till they +had cleared off, and indeed did not move till I saw them and their cart +pass along the road at the foot of the hill. +</p> + +<p> +Time has not blurred the memory of a single detail of our stay in this +welcome house of refuge, but the telling of what was moving and charming +to me would, I fear, bore others. There was a ham, two indeed, and +flitches beside, in the rack hanging from the ceiling, and there were +eggs--three, to be precise--in the larder, to which, by equal good luck +considering the time of the year, I added two more by a raid into the +hen-house. It was all natural and simple enough, but Mistress Waynflete +hailed their production almost as amazedly as if I had indeed drawn them +out of my hat. But how I fetched and carried, chopped wood and drew water, +swept the floor and laid the table, fried ham and boiled eggs, doing all +these things with music in my heart and a noisy song on my lips--is +everything to me and nothing to my tale. +</p> + +<p> +Mistress Waynflete had disappeared into one of the three or four rooms of +which the house consisted, to make herself presentable, as she absurdly +put it. When the table was laid and the ham cooked, I halloed the news to +her, and rushed off to the shed to attend to my outward appearance. I did +want it, being indeed not far short of filthy. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps I hurried unexpectedly. At any rate, on returning I found +Mistress Waynflete bending over something on the hearth. Straightening +herself hastily, and with a pretty confusion, at my approach, she cried, +"Oh, Master Oliver, the ham was burning, and you threatened my share of +it, you know!" +</p> + +<p> +I could not reply. Down to her hips her rich amber hair flowed like a +bridal veil, and from amid a wealth of snowy lace, fluttering on the orbed +glory of perfect womanhood, her neck rose smooth and stately as a shaft of +alabaster. Her cheeks crimsoned with maiden shamefastness, but the blue +eyes met mine without a hint of maiden fear, and for that thanks as well +as reverence filled my heart as I bowed to her. Maidenlike, she drew her +golden veil more closely over her bosom, and tripped back to finish her +toilet, leaving me amated and abashed by the vision I had beheld. I think +it was from that moment that my joy in my work began to be mingled with +the despair of my love. Certainly it was a chastened Oliver Wheatman who +placed a chair for her when she came in again for breakfast, and helped +her to the good things a kindly fortune had provided. +</p> + +<p> +It is my belief that each of us was secretly amused at the steady zeal +with which the other attacked the meal. We wrangled over the odd egg, each +insisting on the other having it, she because I was strong, and needed it, +I because I was strong and could do without it, and finally adopted the +usual compromise. We had more than gone round the clock with barely a +mouthful, and we ate as those who know not where the next meal's meat is +to come from. Frankly, I, at any rate, gave myself a fair margin before +the pinch should come again, and Mistress Waynflete averred that she had +never in her life before eaten so much or so toothsomely. +</p> + +<p> +Our meal over, I stacked the fire with fresh logs, asked and obtained +permission to smoke a pipe, and made my sweet mistress cosy in the +chimney-corner. Then we began to take stock of our position. +</p> + +<p> +"There's no good to come of hurrying," said I. "Here we are both snug and +safe, and your night's rest was but short. Let us see where we stand." +</p> + +<p> +I did not really believe that any amount of talking would help much, but +repose would do her good, and I had a big idea running in and out of my +mind. Our first difficulty, food and rest, had been overcome, and I was +bent on mastering the next. No amount of discussion gave us any key to the +one great mystery. When Brocton had captured Colonel Waynflete at Milford, +the obvious thing to do with him was to send him prisoner to the Duke at +Lichfield. Though the Colonel carried no papers which made his purpose +clear, Brocton knew well what the object of his journey was, and the +suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act put the Colonel in his power. Or, he +might have carried him before a justice of the peace, his friend Master +Dobson for choice, and had him committed to the town jail. The course +actually taken, that of sending him ahead, under guard, in the very van of +the royal army, was to us utterly inexplicable. His mad lust for Mistress +Margaret explained the separation of father and daughter. The thought did +occur to me, though I took great care not to hint at it, that he intended +to make away with the Colonel, and looked to finding tools among his +blackguardly dragoons and an opportunity when in actual conflict with the +Highlanders. I hesitated, however, to believe that Brocton was such a +villain as to commit an unnecessary murder. The plan he had adopted had, +anyhow, this advantage to us that, when we did come into touch with the +prisoner, our chances of assisting him were far greater than if he were in +jail in Stafford or Lichfield. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever my lord's motives were, it was clear that he was not acting in +the plain, straight-dealing manner to be expected of one in his position. +There were other signs of crookedness, slight but not without weight. I +could understand his joy on finding me at Marry-me-quick's. It meant that +I was a rebel, and as a loyal man, who had gone to expenses to prove his +loyalty, he might easily get the Hanyards as a reward, and thus round off +the family property in our neighbourhood. His reference to a "solatium" +puzzled me, but it did not seem anything of consequence. What had I but +the Hanyards to solace him with? A more important puzzle had been his +behaviour at Master Dobson's. To find me on the royal side, as he then +supposed, and to hear my reason for it, had clean dazed him. Then there +was the look, a signal-look beyond a doubt, which I had surprised him +giving his bully, Major Pimple-face, and which was followed by the +latter's attempt to embroil the stranger from London in a row. +</p> + +<p> +"It is useless, Master Wheatman, to speculate further on what Lord +Brocton is doing," said my mistress at last. "He has his ends. I am one of +them. Another is, no doubt, to fill his pockets, somehow or other. It was +common talk in town that he was head over ears in debt." +</p> + +<p> +While we had talked and had rested, I had not been idle. Dick Doley's +roomy kitchen had two windows, one overlooking the cart-track, and another +the slope of the hill. The hill was so made and the house so placed that +from this second window we could see the strip of road at the bottom of +the hill where it curved on to the level again. I had kept a sharp look +out on that bit, but had seen no one pass along it either way as yet. +</p> + +<p> +In one corner of the room Dick kept an ancient fowling-piece, more of a +tool of husbandry than a weapon, since his only use for it was to scare +birds. It was a heavy, unhandy thing, with a brass barrel down which I +could have dropped a sizable duck egg, and round its thick-rimmed nozzle +some one had rudely graven, "Happy is he that escapeth me." I fetched it +out of its corner, and cleaned and oiled it. I now loaded it, for +powder-horn and shot-bag hung near it on the wall, putting in a handful +of the biggest sort of shot, swan-shot as I should call them. During this +task, Mistress Waynflete watched me narrowly, but made no reference to it. +</p> + +<p> +"Now," said I, "our main requisite is the stuff, the ready, the rhino, +the swag--call it what you will. How do you fancy me as a knight of the +road? The first copper-faced farmer I come across shall surely stand and +deliver. Here's an argument he cannot resist." +</p> + +<p> +At last my scrutiny of the road was rewarded. A solitary horseman came in +sight from the direction of the town. +</p> + +<p> +"Mistress Waynflete," said I, picking up the fowling-piece, "there's a +traveller yonder coming from Stafford. It will be well if I go and ask him +a few questions." +</p> + +<p> +She almost leaped at me, red anger flashing in her eyes but her face +white as milk. "Sir," she said, "you shall not turn thief for me. I will +not have it." +</p> + +<p> +"Pray, madam," replied I huffily, "expound the moral difference between +stealing ham and stealing guineas. I'm all for morality." +</p> + +<p> +"I cannot, Master Wheatman, but you must not, shall not go." She caught +hold of my sleeve. "Say you won't! If you are found out it means--" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall not be found out. You may take that for sure. Think you that I +cannot pluck yon chough without being pinched? It's no more robbery than +our eating Dick's ham and eggs. We are soldiers in enemy's country, and we +plunder by right of the known rules of war. As a concession to your +prejudices in favour of the jog-trot morality of peace, I will e'en ask +him whether he be for James or George, and borrow or command his guineas +in accordance with his reply. Loose my sleeve, madam!" +</p> + +<p> +I loosened the grip of her fingers, and led her back to her chair. "You +overrate my danger, sweet mistress, and under rate our need. Without +money, we might as well lie under the nearest hedge and leave Jack Frost +to settle matters his way, and a cold, nasty way it would be. Your guinea +is a good fighter, and we need his help. It must be done, and, never fear, +I'll carry it through safely." +</p> + +<p> +So I left her, white hands grappling the arms of her chair, and white +face turned away from me. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="9">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<h3>MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN</h3> + +<p> +I left the cottage from the rear and struck slantwise across the fields +to reach the shelter of the trees and undergrowth that covered the slope +down to the road. I ran hard so as to shake irresolution out of my mind, +for I found myself half wishing that Mistress Waynflete had pleaded with +me at first instead of trying to thrust me out of my plan. After all the +highwayman's was hardly my calling in life. So I ran hard, saying to +myself that it must be done, and the sooner it was over the better. Then I +laughed. With my rusty old birding-piece I was as ill-equipped for +highwaymanship as I was for farming with my Georgics. "Stand and deliver," +quoth I to myself, "or I'll double your weight with swan-shot." Were the +unknown horseman a resolute man armed with a hair-trigger, I was as good +as done for. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived in the shelter of the wood, I began picking my way through the +thick undergrowth towards the road. Fallen branchlets snapped beneath my +heedless feet and the sounds rang in my ears like pistol-shots. A saucy +robin cocked his care-free eye on me from the top of a crab-tree, and I +could have envied him as I stumbled by. It was perhaps fourscore yards +through, and half-way I stopped to listen. Yes, there came to my ear the +slow trot-ot-ot of hoofs on the hard road. I went on again until, through +the leafless tangle, I began to get glimpses of the highway. My fate was +dragging me on. In a month's time my shrivelling carcase might be swinging +in chains on the top of Wes'on Bank, an ensample to evil-doers. The +thought made me shiver, and I jerked out a broken prayer that my intended +victim might turn out some fat, unarmed farmer, as easy a prey as an +over-fed gander. Then I cursed myself for a fool. No man can mortgage past +piety for present sin. Who was I that I should be allowed to steal on good +security? +</p> + +<p> +Trot-ot-ot. Trot-ot-ot. He was within easy shot now, and I stopped to +make sure of my rickety old weapon. A dragoon's musket would not have +needed such constant care. "Life turns on trifles," said Mistress +Waynflete. +</p> + +<p> +In lifting my eyes from the priming to move on again, something in the +line of vision made me start. On my left, less than a dozen paces from me, +there lay on the ground, on a clean patch beneath a conspicuously-forked +hawthorn, a man's jacket and plumed hat. +</p> + +<p> +A lion playing with a lamb would not have given me pause more abruptly. I +stole silently up to them. They were fine but somewhat faded garments, +modish and even foppish, and, so far as I could distinguish any +peculiarity, military in appearance, and evidently belonged to a person of +some quality. Nor had they been flung there in haste, for the coat was +neatly folded and the hat disposed carefully on top of it. How long had +they been there? I picked up the hat, and there was still the gloss of +recent sweat on its inside brim. +</p> + +<p> +This, however, was no time for idle problems, a very urgent one being on +hand. Forward I crept to the side of the road, and, lying flat down on the +ground, pushed the stock of my gun on to the short grass, and peeped +cautiously to my right down the hill. I was about thirty or forty yards +from a bend in the road, and had intended to be much less, but my +discovery and my confused, half-conscious thinking about it, had deflected +me a little from my course. +</p> + +<p> +Trot-ot-ot. He would be in sight in a few seconds. Trot-ot-ot, plainer +than ever, and there he was. The moment that he was in full view I made an +astonishing discovery, and saw an astonishing sight. +</p> + +<p> +The discovery was that the solitary horseman, walking his powerful grey +with a slack rein, and lost in thought, was Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +The sight was the rush of three men from their lurking-places in the +brushwood. Two of them were soldiers, and Brocton's dragoons at that, a +sample of the town-sweepings Jack had complained of. One seized the reins, +the other held a carbine point-blank at the horseman's head. +</p> + +<p> +These were plainly deserters or freebooters, acting after their kind, and +they had picked up a strange partner during their foray. He wore a yokel's +smock much too big for him, and yet not big enough to hide his bespurred +riding-boots. On his head he had a dirty tapster's bonnet, and his face +was completely hidden by a rudely-cut crape vizard. This singular person +was evidently the leader of the gang. He threatened Master Freake with a +glittering, long-barrelled pistol, and in gruff, curt tones ordered him to +dismount on pain of instant death. +</p> + +<p> +Here was a strange overturn to be sure. Here again fate had rudely upset +my plans, and no fat purse would there be for me in this coil. However, +though I would have robbed Master Freake willingly enough, my blood being +up and he a manifest Hanoverian, I was not going to see Brocton's ruffians +rob him, much less kill him. The purse must wait, and when I took it--for +take it I must--God would perchance balance one thing against the other. +</p> + +<p> +All that I had seen and thought took place in a mere fraction of time, +and even before Master Freake had pulled up, I was creeping like a ferret +from bush to bush to get nearer. Then, just as in his quiet, measured +tones he was asking what they wanted, I burst out into the wood, shouting, +"Forward, my men, here the villains are!" With the words, I fired my +handful of swan-shot clean into the group, and then charged at them +yelling, in boyish imitation of a knight of old, "Happy is he that +escapeth me." +</p> + +<p> +The two dragoons instantly fled with yelps of pain and terror, and the +horse, squealing with fright, began to rear and plunge madly about the +road. Black Vizard turned on me, his pistol rang out, and the bullet +hissed by my ear. I sprang at him with clubbed gun, and struck hard for +his head, but caught him on the neck as he too turned to flee. He went +down, spinning and sprawling, in the road, right under the plunging horse. +With a squeal that curdled my blood, she rose in the air, kicking +viciously. Her hoofs came down with sickening thuds on the squirming man's +skull, cracking it like an egg-shell. His body twitched once or twice, and +then settled into the stillness of death. +</p> + +<p> +I seized the horse's rein and soothed her. She let me pat her neck and +rub her nose, and soon stood quiet, her neck flecked with foam, her flanks +reeking with sweat. Master Freake, who had not spoken a word, dismounted, +and I led the mare into the wood and hitched her reins over a bough. Then +I returned to the man I had saved, and found him looking calmly down on +the man I had killed. The black vizard was now soaking in a horrid pool of +blood and brains. I stooped, and with trembling fingers moved it aside and +revealed the features of the dead man. It was the pimple-faced Major. +</p> + +<p> +I turned to my intended victim, and found him looking calmly and +impassively at me. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman of the Hanyards, unless I am mistaken," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Your servant, sir," said I, rather sourly. But for that dead rascal at +our feet I could beyond a doubt have plucked him like a chough, and here I +was, still penniless. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman, I am not a man of many words, but what I say I stand +by. I am your very grateful debtor for a very fine and courageous action. +Three to one is long odds, but you won with your brains, sir, as much as +by your bravery. Your shout was an excellent device, happily thought on." +</p> + +<p> +He held out his hand. I shook it heartily and then burst out laughing, +and laughed on till tears stood in my eyes. And this was the end of my +highwaymanship! +</p> + +<p> +"Since the danger is, thanks to you, over, Master Wheatman," he said, "I +would e'en like to share your mirth--if I may." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," I replied, "I am laughing because I have saved you from robbers." +</p> + +<p> +"But why laugh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because I set out ten minutes ago to rob you myself." +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake gazed casually up and down the hill, and then, fixing his +quiet grey eyes on me, said whimsically, "I am a man of peace, and +unarmed; the road is of a truth very lonely, and I have considerable sums +of money on me." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I'm quite vexed. This fire-faced scoundrel has upset my plans +finely. I may not get as good a chance for hours." +</p> + +<p> +Now it was his turn to laugh. "Master Wheatman," he said, "you are not +the stuff highwaymen are made of. As you are in need of money, you need it +for some good purpose, and I shall--" +</p> + +<p> +He stopped short. As we stood, he was facing the wood from which the +robbers had burst on him, while I had my back on it. As he stopped, his +strong, calm face changed, and his eyes were fixed on something in the +wood. Wonder, amazement, delight, awe--not one, but all of these emotions +were visible in his face. He looked as one who sees a blessed spirit. I +turned. It was Margaret, leaning, pale and spent and breathless, against +the trunk of a tree, looking and shuddering at the dread object in the +road. +</p> + +<p> +I bounded up to her and touched her on the arm. "All's well, Mistress +Waynflete," said I. "I am as yet no gallows-bird." +</p> + +<p> +"But--" Her eyes were still staring wide on the road, and she trembled +violently, so I stepped between her and the ghastly sight, and said, +"Courage, dear lady. The dead man is your father's worst enemy, Major +Tixall, and yon horse killed him, not I." +</p> + +<p> +By this, Master Freake had come nearer to us, and I turned to greet him. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," said I, "this is my friend, Master Freake, whom I set out to +rob." To him I added, "This is Mistress Waynflete, whom I have the honour +to serve." +</p> + +<p> +He bared his head and bowed. "And whom I hope to have the honour of +serving too." +</p> + +<p> +I looked at him curiously. All other emotions had faded from his face +now, but it was clear that her peerless and now so helpless beauty had +appealed home to him. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," she said, recovering herself with a great effort, "I am pleased to +make your acquaintance. And now,"--speaking to me,--"since you have given +me a great fright and made me behave like a milkmaid rather than a +soldier's daughter, perhaps you will tell me what has happened, and how +it"--she looked over my shoulder--"comes to be lying there. I heard shots +and shrieks that turned me to stone. What has happened?" +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman," said our new acquaintance, taking my words out of my +mouth, "is hardly likely to give you a reasonably correct account. Allow +me to be the historian of his fine conduct." He told the story with +overmuch kindness to me, and as he told it the colour came back to her +face, and she was herself again. While he was telling it, I noticed for +the first time, or rather for the first time gathered its meaning, that +she had run out after me without the domino, and in the biting air she +might easily catch a chill. So while Master Freake was making a fine +sprose about me, much more applicable to Achilles or the Chevalier Bayard, +I slipped off and fetched the hat and coat. He was just concluding his +story on my return, and without interrupting him, I clumsily thrust the +hat on her head and flung the coat over her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Freake," she said, in her sweetest bantering tones, "my servant, +as he absurdly calls himself, is really an artist in helping people. I +told him this morning that his native shire was his conjurer's hat, when +he fetched ham and eggs out of it for poor hungry me. Now he observes that +I am coatless and a-cold, and lo, a hat is on my head and a coat on my +shoulders. It is marvellous and nothing short of it. Nay, I shall shun him +as one in league with the powers of darkness if there's much more of it. +If I be saved, you remember Master Slender,"--this in a sly aside to +me,--"I'll be saved by them that have the fear of God." +</p> + +<p> +"Ingrate!" I cried, half angry and yet wholly delighted; "what of marvel +or devilment is there in picking up a hat and coat one has found lying +under a tree?" +</p> + +<p> +"Major Tixall's," said Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Ass that I am, of course they are. Steady, Mistress Margaret, while I go +through the pockets. The odds are we shall find something useful in +checkmating my Lord Brocton." +</p> + +<p> +In this I was wrong, for there was not a single scrap of writing in any +of them. I did, however, fish out two small but heavy packets, wrapped in +paper. They were easily examined, and each contained a roll of ten guineas. +</p> + +<p> +"The hire of the two rascals," explained Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Really, Mistress Margaret," said I, "there's something in what you said +just now. I do have his nether highness's own luck. I came out for +guineas, prepared to rob for them, and here's twenty of the darlings lying +ready for me to pick up. Now we can go ahead in comfort." +</p> + +<p> +Through all this talk I was turning over in my mind what account, if any, +we were to give Master Freake of our being here. If I had had only myself +to consider I should have trusted him without hesitation. He was the sort +of man that inspires confidence, his grave, serene, intelligent face +having strength and steadfastness written in every line of it. But I had +Mistress Waynflete to consider, and if any appeal was to be made for his +assistance, she must make it. I'm afraid that I hoped she wouldn't, since +I was jealous of any interference in my temporary responsibility for her +welfare. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Freake," I said, "some account will, I suppose, have to be given +of yon ruffian's death. The two runaways are scarcely likely to appear as +witnesses, so, for Mistress Waynflete's sake, I must ask you, should an +explanation become necessary, to conceal my share in the matter." +</p> + +<p> +"The manner of his death is fortunately quite obvious, and if it were +not, any account I choose to give of it will pass unquestioned." +</p> + +<p> +"Then it will be easy for you, I hope, to forget me when giving it. And +now, madam, I think we must be moving." +</p> + +<p> +"Before you go," said Master Freake, "let me say again that if I can help +you, you have only to ask. You, Master Wheatman, because your twofold +signal service is something it would shame me for ever not to be allowed +to return, and you, madam, because," he paused, and the curious rapt +expression came over his face again, "because you are very beautiful and +need help. Your father's politics will make no difficulty, so far as I am +concerned." +</p> + +<p> +"You know my father?" she asked, surprised. +</p> + +<p> +"Know of him. My Lord Brocton was boasting last night of his capture--and +of other things," he lamely concluded. +</p> + +<p> +"Is he boasting this morning?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"I have not seen him," he said, "but Mistress Dobson told me she thought +he'd been rooks'-nesting and had fallen off the poplar." +</p> + +<p> +"I met him again," said I, "and did not like his conversation." +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman means," explained Mistress Waynflete, "that he saved me +from my Lord Brocton's clutches at the imminent risk of his own life." She +stretched out her hands and touched the holes in my coat with her white, +slender fingers. "My lord's rapier made these," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"An inch to the left, my friend," quoth Master Freake, "and you'd have +been as dead as mutton. His lordship, it seems, is busily piling up a big +account with both of us. Well, in my own way, I'll make the rascal pay as +dearly as you have in yours. If you will be pleased to accept my help, +madam, I will do all I can for you. There are, fortunately, other means +than carnal weapons of influencing such persons as Lord Brocton." +</p> + +<p> +"Like Master Wheatman, sir, you are too good to a poor girl." She said it +gratefully and humbly, and indeed so she felt, but no man could listen to +her meek words without pride. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad I turned footpad, in spite of you," said I to my dear mistress. +</p> + +<p> +"I can never thank you enough," was the simple reply. "It was wicked in +me to accept the sacrifice, but in God's good providence it was not made +in vain." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I come into the firm," said Master Freake smilingly, and when, +catching the meaning of his metaphor, she smiled brightly back at him, and +held out her hand, he bowed over it formally, but very kindly, and kissed +it. She blushed prettily, and then, after a moment's hesitation, +stretching it out to me, said, "But I must not forget the original +partner." I took the splendid prize in my rough, red, farmer's hand, and +kissed it reverently. The touch of my lips on her sweet, smooth flesh made +me tremble, and I knew the madness was creeping over me, but I gritted my +teeth, and our eyes met again. The blush had gone, but not the smile. It +was not now, however, the smile of a frank maiden but of an inscrutable +and dominating woman. I knew the difference, for instinct is more than +experience, and I chilled into the yokel again and wondered. +</p> + +<p> +"In one sense, at any rate," said Master Freake, "I am the senior +partner, and as such may, without presumption, speak first. I must go on +to Stone, but that will, I think, be best for our purpose. As I view the +situation, two things are requisite, first that you, Master Wheatman, +should get Mistress Waynflete in advance of all the royal troops, and so +out of danger, and secondly that we should learn precisely what has become +of Colonel Waynflete." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly," I agreed. "The action of Lord Brocton in sending the Colonel +north instead of south, or at least of lodging him in jail at Stafford, is +inexplicable. True, his plan separates father and daughter, which is what +he wants, but either of the other methods would have served equally well +for that." +</p> + +<p> +Of course I said nothing of the other idea that was haunting my thoughts, +the idea that Brocton was scheming to get rid of the Colonel altogether. +In his lust and anger he might not stick at that, and any kind of +encounter with the enemy would serve his turn. The rascals under him were +worthy of their commander, a fact of which we had already ample proof. +</p> + +<p> +"It looks crooked, I confess," was his reply, "but there is this to be +said for it, that the Duke is following north along with the bulk of his +army, and, I hear, intends to make Stone his head-quarters." +</p> + +<p> +"That seems absurd," said I, "but of course he knows best." +</p> + +<p> +"The movements of the Prince's army are uncertain. The plan of their +leaders is never to say where the next halt will be. They will be to-day, +I know, in or near Macclesfield, and I learn that it is possible they may +turn off for Wales, where they believe they will find many recruits. The +farther north the Duke can safely go, the better placed he will be for +checking them if they do that, and his advance guard is posted at +Newcastle. The question is, how are you to get there first and without +being taken?" +</p> + +<p> +"By travelling the by-roads," said I. "We'll go through Eccleshall." +</p> + +<p> +"How long will it take you to get there?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"About three hours," said I, "if Mistress Waynflete can stand the pace." +</p> + +<p> +"Very good," he replied. "I will join you there, and do my best to get +horses for you in the meantime, and bring them along with me." +</p> + +<p> +"That's splendid," said I, "but I'd rather we met outside the village. +Not more than a mile and a half beyond it on the Newcastle road there's a +little wayside ale-house called the 'Ring of Bells,' at the foot of a +steep hill, with a large pool ringed with pines, known as Cop Mere, in +front of it. It's a lonely place and will serve better. Small place as +Eccleshall is, I shall skirt round it, and so get to the 'Ring of Bells.' +You cannot miss it if you ride through the village on the Newcastle road. +Whoever's there first will await the other." +</p> + +<p> +"Then in about three hours we'll meet at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I hope +I shall bring good news of the Colonel. Believe me, dear lady, short of +foul play on Brocton's part, and we have no reason to suspect that, your +father will be all right. Plain John Freake is not without influence. As +for the ruffian lying dead in the road, think no more of him." +</p> + +<p> +So saying he unhitched his horse, led her into the road, and mounted. He +bowed and smiled, said cheerily, "A pleasant walk to the 'Ring of Bells,'" +and cantered off. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped between madam and the dead man. "We've found a good friend +there, Mistress Waynflete. Now we'll put the hat and coat as we found +them, save for the guineas, and go back to the cottage for your domino." +</p> + +<p> +She gave them to me, and stepped out briskly towards the cottage. I +folded up the coat, put the hat on it, looked again at the still, stiff +horror in the road, soaking in its own blood, and silently followed her. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="10">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<h3>SULTAN</h3> + +<p> +The lie of the land was as follows: To get to the "Ring of Bells," Master +Freake would have to ride over the hill to the main road at Weston, thence +some six miles north-west to Stone, thence another six or seven miles +south-west to the inn. Mistress Waynflete and I had a stiff walk of about +nine miles in front of us. For the first three miles our way ran east by +north, and then bent almost due east to the ale-house. Our difficulty +would come at the bending point, for there we should have to cross the +main road from Stafford along which the troops would be filtering north to +get into touch with the Prince and his Highlanders. If the Duke had heard +of the supposed intention of the Jacobites to turn off for Wales, he +would, I imagined, send a scouting party through Eccleshall to look out +for them, and we should, for the second time in our journey, be on +dangerous ground in the neighbourhood of that village. The "Ring of +Bells," however, lay north of that village, off his obvious line of march +in that direction, so that we stood a good chance of passing unchecked to +our goal, provided that we got across the main road north in safety. +Fortunately, at the place where I intended to cross, it climbed over a +fairly steep hill, and we could, if need were, lie and watch the road till +it was safe to venture out. +</p> + +<p> +It was ticklish work at the best and any break in our run of luck might +ruin us. How ticklish was vividly brought home to me within a few minutes +of our getting safe under cover in the cottage. I had, of course, brought +back the birding-piece and, after once more helping in the blissful task +of getting Mistress Waynflete into the domino, bungling as usual over +arranging the hood because my fingers lost control of themselves at the +touch of her hair, I sat down to reload it, intending to carry it with me. +I had settled matters with the absent gaffer, Doley, by putting one of my +guineas conspicuously on the table, and was just finishing my task when +Mistress Waynflete, who had stepped to the rear window and was looking +back on the scene of my recent exploit, suddenly called out, "Oliver! Come +here!" +</p> + +<p> +My heart leaped within me at that 'Oliver.' True, it was the familiarity +of one born to command, one who had last night icily desired my services +in the morning, and, womanlike, knew that she could queen it over me as +she listed, but still, and this was the main thing, it was familiar and +friendly, and seemed to lift me a shade nearer to her. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, madam?" I asked respectfully, and ran toward her, but not so +swiftly that I had not time to see the blue eyes fixed hard on mine. For +answer, she turned and pointed down the hill, and there I saw the patch of +brown road covered with wagons and soldiers. In five minutes they would +come across the dead body of the Major. +</p> + +<p> +"Good," said I indifferently, "they save me a guinea," and I put the coin +back in my pocket. The soldiers didn't matter, but that look in her eyes +did. +</p> + +<p> +"Isn't that rather mean?" For some reason she spoke quite snappily. The +soldiers clearly didn't matter to her, and something else did. +</p> + +<p> +"Which of the soldiers provided our breakfast, madam? We might as well +leave a note asking them to pick us up at the 'Ring of Bells.' And, madam, +you can trust me to make Dick Doley content enough some day." +</p> + +<p> +She smiled, with her characteristic touch of chagrin. I liked her best +so, for she never looked daintier. "With a bit of luck, Master Wheatman," +she said whimsically, "there will surely come a time when you'll be wrong +and I right. Then, sir, look out for crowing. I've never been so unlucky +with a man in my life. But you'll slip some day!" +</p> + +<p> +"Surely, madam," I said, and smiled, "and then I'll abide your gloating. +Now, pray you, let us be off. We've hardly a minute to spare." +</p> + +<p> +Without losing another second we started on our long walk. It was now +about ten of the clock. The sun was shining cheerily, with power enough to +melt the white rime off every blackened twig it lit upon, and it was still +so cold that sharp walking was a keen delight. +</p> + +<p> +"Eight miles and more of it, Mistress Waynflete. I hope you can stand the +pace and the distance." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," she replied curtly. +</p> + +<p> +The vicar was right. "Oliver," he said to me one day, "what is the +difference between the Hebrew Bible and a woman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, gaping with astonishment, "I know not, but of a truth it +seems considerable." +</p> + +<p> +"It is, Oliver," replied the sweet old scholar. "Man can understand the +one in a dozen years, if he try, but the other not in a lifetime, strive +he as earnestly as he may." +</p> + +<p> +This fragment of my dear friend's talk came back to me now as we walked +in silence side by side. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her sweet +face set in earnest thinking, her rich lips compressed, her speaking eyes +fixed resolutely ahead. Not having to trouble about finding the road, and +there being no sign of anyone, either enemy or neutral, stirring on the +countryside, I let her go on thinking, and set myself the pleasant but +impossible task of accounting to myself for her mood. I went over all we +had said and done together that day, and at last, after perhaps half an +hour of unbroken silence, fell back on what seemed the only possible +explanation. She was thinking of her father. But why that suspicion of +asperity on her face? Was this explanation correct? +</p> + +<p> +The vicar was right. She suddenly slipped her hand round my arm, looking +at me with laughing lips and dancing eyes, and said, "Isn't it splendid to +be alive on a day like this?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, indeed it is," I replied, "but from your looks and your long +silence, I should hardly have judged that you were thinking so." +</p> + +<p> +"You have been taking stock of me, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly I have been wondering why you were so silent, and looked +so ... grave." +</p> + +<p> +"Be honest and fear not, Master Wheatman. You were not going to say +'grave.'" +</p> + +<p> +"At the expense of many whippings from old Bloggs, I learned to be +precise in the use of words." +</p> + +<p> +"I know, hence you were not going to say 'grave.'" +</p> + +<p> +"You will allow me to choose my own words, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, so long as you choose the right ones." +</p> + +<p> +She unhooked her hand, and we walked a minute or two without another +word, she frowning, and I fuming. Then she said wistfully, "Why did you +think I was cross?" +</p> + +<p> +"I feared I had offended you," said I hastily and innocently. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed long and merrily. "Old Bloggs taught you the silly rigmarole +you men call logic, but he didn't teach you woman's logic, that's plain. +Don't you see what I've made you do, Master Wheatman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not yet, Mistress Waynflete." +</p> + +<p> +"Poof, slow-coach! I've made you admit that you were going to say 'cross' +but altered it, too late, to 'grave.'" +</p> + +<p> +"You outrun me with your nimble and practised wit," said I, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"And when did you offend me, think you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I answered you rather roughly when you took me up about the guinea." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, then? Not at all. You snibbed me, but I richly deserved it." +</p> + +<p> +Another silence. +</p> + +<p> +"Well?" she said. "Go on! I say I richly deserved it. Go on!" +</p> + +<p> +"Go on where?" I asked testily. "You're not expecting me to say you +didn't, are you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I'm not," she said, "but it was good practice trying to make you." +So saying, she slipped her hand under my arm again, and we stepped it out +together. +</p> + +<p> +The current of her thoughts now ran and glittered in the opposite +direction. She made me for the moment her intimate, lifting up the veil +over her past life, and giving me peeps and vistas of her wanderings and +experiences. She jested and gibed. She sang little snatches of song in +some foreign tongue. "You're sure you don't understand Italian?" she +demanded, stopping short half-way through a bar, and quizzing me with her +eyes, now blue as sapphires in the bright sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +"Not a word of it," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"A grave disadvantage," she said airily. "It's the only language one can +love in." And off she struck again. +</p> + +<p> +Now she sang something soothing and sad, with a wistful lilt in it that +died into a low wail. It needed no Italian to be understood, for it was +written in the language of human experience. A woman's heart throbbed in +the lilt and broke in the wail. +</p> + +<p> +This sweet interval of intimacy verging on friendship was ended by our +close approach to the main road. We had been travelling, heedless of roads +and tracks, across a champaign country, and the slope up to the top of +Yarlet Bank now lay before us. I led the way, skulking behind such poor +cover as the gaunt hedgerows provided, and, when only a hundred paces from +the top, I asked her to crouch down, awaiting my signal to advance, while +I crept forward on my hands and knees to the edge of the road which here +climbed the brow of the hill through a deep cutting, along either margin +of which ran a straggling hedge. +</p> + +<p> +To my relief, the road down the hill, both to right and left, was +completely deserted. I joyfully waved my arm to Mistress Waynflete, who +was soon by my side, looking down the road. To the right we could see for +nearly a mile. On the left our view was cut short by a bend, and I walked +a score of yards in that direction and shinned up a stout sapling. Our +luck was absolute. Not a soldier, not a living soul, was in sight. +</p> + +<p> +"We might have had to skulk here for hours, waiting for an opportunity to +cross unseen," said I, on rejoining her, "but our gods above are +victorious, and we share their victory. So now for the 'Ring of Bells.' +There's a gate at the bottom of the hill. Come along, Mistress Waynflete!" +</p> + +<p> +She followed me down the hedge-side. I turned once or twice to look at +her, carefully pretending that it was only to see how she was getting on. +The last time I thus stole another memory of her splendid presence we were +only a few paces from the gate, and when my reluctant eyes turned again to +their rightful work, they looked straight into a pair of fishy eyes set in +a face as blank and ugly as a bladder of lard. +</p> + +<p> +Face and eyes belonged to a big, sleek, sly man, perched on the top bar +of the gate. He had a notebook in his hand in which he had been entering +some jottings. He suspended his writing to examine us, picking his nasty, +yellow teeth meanwhile with the point of his pencil. His horse was hitched +to the post on the Stoneward side of the gate, where the stile was. He was +well enough dressed, and, as far as I could see, unarmed. +</p> + +<p> +It was a most exasperating thing to have pitched into him, whoever and +whatever he was, and indeed I much disliked the look of him, and would +gladly have knocked him on the head. True, travellers were not rare on +this road, since it was part of the great highway from London to Chester, +and the little thoroughfare town of Stone, some three miles ahead, had a +noted posthouse. However, I kept, or tried to keep, my feelings out of my +face and voice, and accosted him cheerily. +</p> + +<p> +"Good day, friend! What may be the price of fat beeves in Stafford market +to-day?" +</p> + +<p> +"Dearer than men's heads will be at the town gates after the next +assizes," he replied, stroking his notebook and grinning evilly. +</p> + +<p> +"You'll never light on a Scotsman, dead or alive, that's worth as much as +a Staffordshire heifer," said I, leading the way past him to the stile, +over which I handed Mistress Margaret into the road. +</p> + +<p> +"They won't all be Scotsmen, my friend," he replied, still stroking his +notebook. +</p> + +<p> +"No?" said I, eager at heart to knock him off his perch. +</p> + +<p> +"Nor men," he added, leering at Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Come along, Sal," said I to her laughingly, "before the good gentleman +jots you down a Jacobite." +</p> + +<p> +So we left him, and when, fifty paces down the road, I looked back at +him, he was jotting in his notebook again. +</p> + +<p> +"I think he knows something about us," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Very likely," she replied calmly. "I've seen him once before in London, +talking to Major Tixall. Who could forget a face like that?" +</p> + +<p> +"He's uglier than the big-mouthed dragoon." +</p> + +<p> +"The dragoon was at any rate a soldier." +</p> + +<p> +"And the worst of soldiers has, no doubt, some savour of grace in him." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite so," she retorted. "His calling makes it necessary." +</p> + +<p> +"And, so reasoning, you would say, I suppose, that the best of farmers +was to seek in the higher reaches of manliness." +</p> + +<p> +"Have I not told you, Master Oliver, that between man's logic and woman's +logic there's a great gulf fixed?" +</p> + +<p> +"Minds are minds," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And hearts are hearts," replied she, and so shut me up to my thinking +again. +</p> + +<p> +We turned into a cart-track on our left leading in the direction of +Eccleshall. As we turned I saw that Bladder-face had mounted his horse and +was coming on toward Stone. There was no doubt that we should be pursued +from that quarter before long, and I grew heavy with anxiety as I saw how +hardly we were being pressed. The encounter had not, however, disturbed +Mistress Waynflete. On the contrary, she became gayer than ever, so gay +that, fool-like, I got quite vexed at it, for it was clear that something +had relieved her anxiety, and I knew it was nothing that I had done. I +worried over it, and at last hit on the explanation. She was rejoicing in +the help of the new partner. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you make of Master Freake?" said I boorishly, cutting short a +lightsome trill, more Italian maybe. +</p> + +<p> +"Make of what?" said she lightly. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Freake." +</p> + +<p> +"Forgive me, Master Wheatman," she replied, "but I didn't take you as +quickly as I ought to have done. I like the look of him. How pretty, pluck +them for me." +</p> + +<p> +I stopped to gather the spray of brilliant vermilion berries she fancied, +saying meanwhile, "I wonder what he is? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, +or what?" +</p> + +<p> +She seemed much more concerned with her berries, which she praised +rapturously, and placed carefully in the bosom of her riding-dress before +replying. +</p> + +<p> +"He's no doubt a grave and prosperous citizen of London. I've seen many +such, and he looks sworn brother to worthy Alderman Heathcoat. Moreover, +he talks merchantlike." +</p> + +<p> +It seemed pretty certain that she had hit the right nail on the head. Her +explanation fitted his account of the large sums he was carrying and his +stay with and hold over Jack's father. True, Staffordshire seemed the +wrong place for such a man. Both he and his money would have been far +safer in Change Alley. If her explanation was acute and probable, her +manner of making it had convinced me that my explanation of her gaiety was +wrong. Of him she certainly had not been thinking. Then there was only one +thing left to account for it. What makes a maid as merry as a grig? Didn't +our Kate sing all morning when Jack was coming in the afternoon? +</p> + +<p> +It was no concern of mine, and as a man sometimes makes his right hand +play his left hand at chess, so I now made stern Oliver lecture paltering +Wheatman, but without doing him much good. Naturally all this made me a +poor companion on the road, and for a long time Mistress Waynflete bore +with me patiently. Then she turned from her tra-la-la-ing to waken me up, +roundly declaring that I was bored with her company; and I had no defence, +ridiculous as the charge was. +</p> + +<p> +"I've sung every song I know, and sung them my best, too, and you've +never once praised me. You'll have to learn, you know, Master Oliver, to +smile at a lady even when you really want to smack her. What do you do? +You just write on your face as plainly as this"--and here her dainty +finger toured her face, ending up where the tear of milk had trembled--"S-M-A-C-K." +I roared aloud, she did it so frankly and mirthfully. What +a treasury of moods she was! She had stepped across our house-place like a +queen, she had fronted that devil, Brocton, like a goddess, and now she +was larking like a schoolmaid. +</p> + +<p> +Long as the way was, we seemed to me to be getting over the ground too +rapidly. Mistress Waynflete did not tire, and did full credit to her +father's soldiership. We circled round the red-tiled roofs of Eccleshall, +and at length took shelter in the pines that ringed the great pool. Across +the mere lay the road, and on the far side of the road from us was the +"Ring of Bells," standing well back, with a little green in front, in the +centre of which a huge post carried a board bearing the rudely painted +sign of the ale-house. +</p> + +<p> +I scouted ahead, dodging from tree to tree along the edge of the mere, in +order to keep out of view of anyone moving on the road. Over against the +ale-house I crept still more warily through the wood to the edge of the +road. There was no one moving in or about the ramshackle little place, but +there was one unexpected thing in sight which gave me pause. Hitched by +the reins to a staple in the signpost was the finest horse I had ever set +eyes on, a slender, sinewy stallion, champing on his bit and pawing +nervously on the stone-hard ground. +</p> + +<p> +Here was the shadow of a new trouble, though, indeed, there was nothing +to be surprised at, seeing that the countryside far and near was buzzing +with enemy activities. A rat in a barn might as justly complain of being +tickled by straws as I of jostling into difficulties. The horse without +betokened a rider within, and probably some one in the Duke's horse. I +beckoned Mistress Waynflete, and by signs indicated that extreme caution +was necessary. During the moments I was awaiting her I examined the +birding-piece to make sure it was in order. Caution, however, she flung to +the winds, for the moment she set eyes on the horse she joyously shouted +'Sultan' and made a wild, happy dash to cross the road. +</p> + +<p> +I stopped her sternly, and in a brief whisper asked, "Who's Sultan?" +</p> + +<p> +"Father's horse." +</p> + +<p> +"We do not know for sure that your father is in the inn because his horse +is outside, and by your leave, madam, we'll make sure first. Keep right +behind yon thick tree, and await my return." +</p> + +<p> +She looked calmly at me, but even before she could glide off, there came +from the ale-house an appalling volley of oaths and curses. It was a man's +voice, yelling in agonized blasphemy, and a woman's shrill treble floated +on the surface of the stream of virulence. +</p> + +<p> +I caught Mistress Waynflete's wrist and steadied her. "Not your father, +apparently?" I said in a cool voice, though my head was whirling a bit +under the strain. "Here," I went on, fetching a fistful out of my pocket, +"are some guineas. Follow me, unhitch the horse, and if I shout to you to +be off, mount him from yon horse-trough, and away like lightning. That's +the road to Eccleshall, along which Master Freake is bound to come." +</p> + +<p> +I thrust the guineas into her hand, gripped my weapon, slipped out of the +pines and across the road, circled the horse, and made to peep round the +jamb of the open door into the guest-room of the ale-house. As I did so, +the man yelled, "God damn, I'm on fire!" and the woman shrieked back, +"Burn, you foul devil, burn, and be damned!" +</p> + +<p> +This was enough, and I burst in on a spectacle, strange, serious, on the +point of becoming terrible, and yet almost laughable. In the middle of the +room, a stout, shock-headed, red-elbowed woman stood, a pikel in her +strong outstretched hands. The sergeant of dragoons, with his back to a +roaring fire, was pinned against the hearthstead by the pitchfork, the +tines of which were stuck in the oak lintel of the chimney-piece, so that +a ring of steel encircled his throat like the neckhole of a pillory, and +held him there helpless and roasting. When I first caught sight of him he +was making a frenzied attempt to wrench the prongs out, but, finding it +hopeless, drew his tuck, and lashed out at the woman. She calmly shifted +out of reach along the handle of the fork. He then hacked fiercely but +without much effect on the wooden handle, and finally, in his despair and +agony, poised the tuck and cast it at her javelin-fashion. The woman, +cooler than he in both senses of the term, dodged it easily. How she had +contrived to pin him in such a helpless manner, I could not imagine. The +motive was obvious. A little girl lay writhing and sobbing on the floor +amid the fragments of a broken mug and a scattering of copper and silver +coins. +</p> + +<p> +"You've got him safe enough, mother," said I, "and it's no good cooking +him since you can't eat him." +</p> + +<p> +"Be yow another stinking robber, like this'n?" she demanded. The epithet +was as apt as it was vigorous, for the stink of singeing cloth made me +sniff. "If y'be," she went on, "I'll shove' im in the fire and set about +yow." +</p> + +<p> +"Not a bit of it, mother. I've come to help you, but shift him along a +bit out of the heat, and then we'll settle what to do with him." To him I +added, "Understand, sergeant, any attempt to fight or fly, and your neck +will be wrung like a cockerel's." Then laying down my gun I pulled out the +tines and shifted him along the lintel till he was out of danger. The +woman, whose fierce determination never faltered, jammed the pikel in +again and kept him trapped. +</p> + +<p> +I went to the door and saw Mistress Waynflete standing by Sultan's head, +and the proud beauty arching his neck in his joy at finding his mistress +near him. I beckoned her. +</p> + +<p> +"An old acquaintance, in a fix. Come in!" said I, and introduced her to +the strange scene. "The sergeant, madam," I went on, "and he has been +plucked like a brand from the burning." She took in the scene, judged what +had happened, and then gathered up the child, who had ceased crying out of +curiosity, and mothered the little one so sweetly that the red-elbowed +woman cried out hearty thanks. +</p> + +<p> +In brief the story, as collected later from the mother and child, was +that the sergeant had ridden up and asked for a meal. After he had had +some bread and cheese and ale, he had taken advantage of the alewife's +absence to ask the child where mother kept her money, and, receiving no +answer, had twisted the poor little one's arm until in her terror and +agony she had told him of the secret hole in the chimney where the money +was kept in a coarse brown mug. The child's cry had brought the mother +running back with the pikel, snatched up on the way, and she, taking him +at unawares with the mug in his hand, had darted at him and luckily caught +him round the neck, and pinned him against the fireplace as I had found +him. Let him go she dared not, for she was alone except for the child, and +but for my arrival he would have roasted right enough till he was +helpless. As it was the skirts of his coat were smouldering, and he had +only just escaped serious injury. In fact, although smarting sore, he was +so little damaged that after tearing away the burnt tails, he collected +himself and tried to bam me. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman," he began, "I call upon you in the King's name to aid +and assist me. This woman's tale is all a lie. The mug was on the +chimney-top for anyone to see, and I only took it down to examine it, +being struck with its appearance." +</p> + +<p> +"Also in the King's name, Master Sergeant," was my reply, "I propose to +have you handed over to the nearest justice as a rogue and vagabond." +</p> + +<p> +"And you shall explain why you are here with your--" I should have +strangled him if his foul tongue had wagged one word of insult, and he saw +it in my eyes. He stopped, and his face showed that he had discovered the +secret. +</p> + +<p> +"The sergeant recognizes you again, Molly," said I lightly. +</p> + +<p> +"Bammed and beaten by a damned yokel?" he burst out. "Ten thousand +devils! Where were my eyes yesterday?" In his anger he began to strain at +his steel cravat. +</p> + +<p> +"Virgil for ever! The first town we come to I'll buy me a Latin grammar," +said Margaret to me, with a low ripple of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +"How'd on, fool," said the alewife to the sergeant. "Yow wunna be wuth +hangin' if y' carry on a this'n." +</p> + +<p> +"If you don't loose me, you old bitch," he shouted, "I'll see you hanged! +Loose me, for your neck's sake! These people are Jacobites!" +</p> + +<p> +"Gom, I dunna know what that be, but I wish Stafford-sheer was full on +'em. 'Tinna any good chokin' y'rsen, I shanna let go." +</p> + +<p> +This method of keeping him, however, rendered the alewife useless, so I +took her place, and bade her fetch the longest and toughest rope she'd +got. She brought me a beauty and with it I trussed the sergeant, tying him +securely into a heavy, clumsy chair, and leaving him as helpless as a fowl +ready for roasting. Then a thought struck me and I went through his +pockets. His very stillness made me careful in my search, but I found only +some old bills for fodder and other military papers, and a heavily sealed +letter addressed "To HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS." I was not quite Jacobite enough +to make me willing to steal a dispatch addressed to the Royal Duke, and I +should have thrust it and the oddments of paper back again but for the +rattle of hoofs outside. It was probably Master Freake, and I was +particularly anxious that the sergeant should not see him, so I rushed out +with all the papers in my hand to forestall him. +</p> + +<p> +Hurrying outside I saw Master Freake hitching his horse to the signpost, +and Mistress Waynflete already talking to him eagerly. When I got up he +delivered his news briefly and to the point, and bad news it was. +</p> + +<p> +He had learned in Stone that the Colonel had again been taken on ahead +towards Newcastle in charge of a troop of Brocton's dragoons under the +command of Captain Rigby, "last night's table companion of the dead +Major," he explained. +</p> + +<p> +"Whatever for?" asked Mistress Waynflete. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake said nothing, but his eyes were troubled, and I knew there +was something he would fain conceal. +</p> + +<p> +"Whatever for?" she repeated. "Could you learn of no reason?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was told," he answered slowly, "that Colonel Waynflete's knowledge and +assistance would be invaluable to the royal troops." +</p> + +<p> +"Told that my father had turned traitor! Is that what you mean, sir?" +Scorn too great for anger covered her face, veiling its sweetness as with +a fiery cloud. +</p> + +<p> +"That is the plain English of what I was told, I must admit." Here was +the grave, businesslike nature of the man, plainly posing awkward +questions that had to be answered. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a wicked lie!" she burst out. She turned her face proudly to look +into mine, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears. +</p> + +<p> +"Naturally, madam," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"My father's honour is mine, Master Wheatman, and I am your debtor for +another splendid courtesy." +</p> + +<p> +"I argue from the flower to the tree. Man's logic, and therefore +necessarily imperfect, you would say, but for once I stick to it." I spoke +lightly and reminiscently, so as to chase the gloom from her mind, and she +was immediately herself again. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake continued his story, which went from bad to worse. As I had +expected, Bladderface had ridden into Stone, and the result of his +communication to Captain Rigby had been that orders were issued for our +pursuit, and Master Freake had left the town not very far in advance of +the squad of horse sent on our track. He had thus been unable to procure +horses for us, but at Eccleshall he had managed to obtain a pillion for +Margaret's use behind him. +</p> + +<p> +This was awkward indeed, for though Master Freake had ridden hard, the +pursuit could not be very far behind, and if, as was almost certain, the +dragoons turned up at the "Ring of Bells," the sergeant would be set free, +and be after us like a mad bull. There was, however, a margin of time +available, and therefore I put this problem out of my mind, and attended +only to the urgent one of the Colonel's position. +</p> + +<p> +To me there was only one explanation possible. This continual shifting of +the Colonel, ever under the charge of those rascally dragoons, commanded +now by a man whose familiarity with Tixall was an evil augury, meant one +thing only. Soon, perhaps within an hour or two, there would be fighting, +and under cover of that a stab in the back or a bullet in the head would +clear the Colonel out of Brocton's path for ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Take these papers, Master Freake," said I. "Mistress Waynflete will tell +you what has happened here, and you can give them back to their owner if +you choose. But do not, I beg you, on any account let the rascal inside +see or hear you." +</p> + +<p> +I raced indoors, seized the sergeant's tuck and took his baldrick from +him, heedless of his vile threats. I left him there, choking with +foulness, unhitched Sultan, sprang into the saddle, and cantered up to my +friends. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Mistress Margaret," I said, "describe your father so that I shall +know him when I see him." +</p> + +<p> +She sketched his portrait in broad, clear outlines, and I fixed the +description point by point in my memory. +</p> + +<p> +"That's the road to Newcastle," said I, pointing along the edge of the +mere, "and it's fairly straight and good. Follow me there as quickly as +you can, and inquire for me at the 'Rising Sun.' I'll have news of the +Colonel, if not the Colonel himself, when we meet again." +</p> + +<p> +I bowed to Margaret, dug my heels into Sultan, and was off like a flash. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I SLIP</h3> + +<p> +Sultan was a horse for a man, long and regular in his stride, perfect in +action, quick to obey, cat-like at need. I might have ridden him from the +day on which the blacksmith drank his colt-ale, for we understood each +other exactly, and I was as comfortable on his back as in my bed at the +Hanyards. In the open road at the mere-end, he settled down into a steady, +loping trot, and I was free to think matters out to the music of his +hoof-beats on the road. +</p> + +<p> +It was only eight or nine miles into Newcastle, and as the dragoons would +travel slowly and warily there was just a chance that I should be there +first. Further, it was wholly unlikely that I should be interfered with, +since the only two enemies who knew I was aiding Mistress Margaret were +helpless in my rear--Brocton at Stafford, and the sergeant in the "Ring of +Bells." I was unknown in the town, not having been there since my +schooldays, and then only on rare occasions, as a visit to the town meant +a thirty-mile walk in one day. +</p> + +<p> +Plan-making was futile. Everything would depend upon chance, but if +chance threw me into touch with the Colonel, it should go hard if I did +not free him somehow or other. The most splendid thing would be if I could +free him before Margaret overtook me at the "Rising Sun." True, I had only +an hour or so to spare, but now strange things happened in an hour of my +life, and this great luck might be mine. Then would come my rich and rare +reward--the light in her deep, blue eyes and the tremulous thanks on her +ripe, red lips. +</p> + +<p> +And then a thought smote me like a blow between the eyes, so that I +dizzied a moment, and the day grew grey and the outlook blank. The finding +of the Colonel meant the losing of Margaret. Father and daughter reunited, +my work would be done; the day of the hireling would be accomplished. Need +for me there would be none. The old life would again claim me, justly +claim me too, for was I not, though all unworthily and unprofitably, the +only son of my sweet mother, and she a widow. I could see her in the +house-place at the Hanyards, her calm eyes fixed in sorrow on my empty +chair. <i>A man shall leave father and mother</i>, yes, for one particular +cause, but the only son of a widowed mother for no cause whatsoever. +Christ, I said to myself, would not have raised the young man of Nain +merely to get married. +</p> + +<p> +Still there was the work, and I spurned my gloomy thoughts and turned to +think of it. And first I took stock of my means of offence. There were +loaded pistols in the holsters, fine long weapons with polished walnut +stocks inlaid with silver lacery and the initials 'C.W.', the Colonel's +without a doubt. At the saddle-bow there hung a sizeable leathern pouch, +and this I found to contain a good supply of charges. I was a sure shot, +and I tried my skill on a gate as Sultan flew by, splintering the latch at +which I aimed to a nicety, the well-trained horse taking no more notice of +the shot than of a wink at a passing market-wench. So far so good. Then +there was the sergeant's tuck, and I shouted with a schoolboy's glee at +having for the first time in my life a sword at my side. Of how to use it +I knew nothing, unless many bouts at single-stick with Jack should be some +sort of apprenticeship in swordcraft. I practised pulling it out, and +then, imitating Brocton, made the forty-inch blade twist and tang in the +air, which pleased me greatly. I felt quite a Cavalier now, and said +within myself that old Smite-and-spare-not's bones should soon be rustling +in their grave with envy. +</p> + +<p> +And so into Meece, wondering if the fat host of the "Black Bull" would +recognize in the splendidly mounted horseman the dusty schoolboy of ten +years ago. There he was in the porch, grown intolerably fatter, talking to +my ancient gossip, Rupert Toms, the sexton, now heavily laden with years +and infirmities. I pricked on, having no time to spare for either prayer +or provender, since every moment was precious, though a tankard of double +October, mulled with spice and laced with brandy, would have been precious +too, for the matter of that. +</p> + +<p> +At the tail of the village, where the curve of the road runs into the +straight again to climb the long hill, I came for a moment into touch with +my affair. A horseman was in sight, rattling down the slope, and I saw +that he was an officer, a keen-featured, middle-aged man, with the set +face of one who rides on urgent business. Yet he checked his horse when +near me, and cried curtly, "What news from Stafford?" +</p> + +<p> +A word with him might be worth while, so I too pulled up and answered +very politely, "It's market-day." +</p> + +<p> +"Damn the market! What news of the troops, sir? Is my Lord Brocton still +there?" +</p> + +<p> +"I believe he is." +</p> + +<p> +"Then damn my Lord Brocton! Did you chance to see him?" +</p> + +<p> +"I had that honour late last night." +</p> + +<p> +"Anything the matter with him?" +</p> + +<p> +"He'd had enough," said I simply. +</p> + +<p> +"That's what comes of shoving sprigs of your bottle-sucking nobility into +the service. Damn his nobility! There's another of them back yonder, as +much use as an old tup." +</p> + +<p> +"If I detain you much longer," said I, with exaggerated sweetness, +"you'll be damning me." +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing likelier. I damn everything and everybody that don't suit me. +That's why I'm captain at fifty instead of colonel at thirty. What of it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Lord Brocton's nine miles off, and I'm not." +</p> + +<p> +"Think I care? Damn you, too, and I'll fight you when we meet again. Like +a lark! Wish I'd time now. Good day, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +He dug the rowels into his horse and was off. An earnest, choleric man +with his heart in his work, for which I liked him, even to his persistent +damning. +</p> + +<p> +I put Sultan to the slope and he kept bravely at it till I eased him off +where the rise was steepest. My late encounter clearly meant that affairs +were ripening fast farther north, and it might also mean danger behind me +sooner than I had looked for. The blood danced in my veins at the prospect +of the adventures that awaited me. Ho, for life and work! Would it be long +before the blue eyes lanced me through and through again, as when I kissed +her hand among the trees by the roadside? I looked at the frosty sun and +judged that it was nigh on twenty-four hours since I had stood in the +porch and watched mother and Kate across the cobbles into the +road--twenty-four hours that had done more for me than the twenty-four years +that had gone before them, for they had given me a man's task, a man's +thoughts, the stirrings of a man's being, the beginning of a man's agony. +</p> + +<p> +We were at the top now with the open country stretching for miles around +us. But the dale beneath, through which the main road ran a mile away to +the east, was thick with trees, and I could get no inkling of how things +were going. I strained my ears to listen, but no warning sound could I +hear. The countryside was still and calm as a frozen sea, and war and its +terrors seemed so impossible that for a moment I felt as if it was only a +dream-life that I was living and that I must wake soon and hear Joe Braggs +trolling out his morning song in honour of Jane. But Sultan craned round +his shapely head as if to ask me why I was loitering in the cold, bleak +air; so with a cheery slap on his glossy neck, I gave him the reins and +away he went, with me spitting ghostly Broctons on the sergeant's tuck. +Through the skirts of the woodland he carried me, and then up again till +on the top of Clayton Bank I pulled him up a second time for another +survey of the situation. +</p> + +<p> +The little town was now in full view a mile ahead, lying on the slope and +top of some rising ground. Across the meadows to my right, and now plainly +to be seen less than half a mile away, was the main road from Stone. Again +I was disappointed. A long, rude post-wagon, pulled by eight horses and +driven by a man on an active little nag, was groaning its way south; a +solitary horseman was ambling north--and that was all I could see. +</p> + +<p> +What had happened to the Colonel? Were the dragoons in the town or not? I +dug my heels into Sultan's flanks and put him to it at his best, and in a +few minutes was on the outskirts of the town. +</p> + +<p> +The town consists in the main of two streets. The High Street is simply +the town part of the main road from the south and Stone to Congleton and +the north--the line along which the Stuart Prince was marching. It +deserves its name, for it lies along the edge of the slope on which the +town lies. Parallel to it in the dip lies Lower Street, and the road I was +on curls past the end of this street and climbs gently to join the upper +road. I could thus get into the heart of the town through the poorer +quarter of it, and soon the kidney-stones of Lower Street rang under +Sultan's hoofs. +</p> + +<p> +The stir and noise of Stafford was completely absent. The townspeople, +mainly hatters by trade, were plying their craft indoors as if no enemy +were at their gate. In fact, as I learned afterwards, there was no fuss +and much fun and good business when the Highlanders actually came on the +scene. The farther a town was from them the more it funked them, which +was, as everybody knows now, truest of all of London. As I turned up the +lane by St. Giles', the church bells chimed two. Past the church in the +corner between the lane and the High Street was the "Rising Sun." Once +Sultan was safe in its stables I could set about getting news of the +Colonel before Margaret and Master Freake arrived. +</p> + +<p> +It was stiff work up the last thirty yards, and Sultan shook himself +together after it when he drew out on the level High Street. Here were +throngs of people and some signs of trouble toward. In particular I +noticed the town fathers in their black gowns of office, and, most +conspicuous of all, the crimson and fur of his worship. I judged they were +coming from a council meeting in the town hall, which stood in the middle +of the wide High Street. There was much high debate, wagging of fingers +and smiting of fist in palm, but no approach to the tumult and terror of +yesternight. The Mayor stood for a moment confabbing at the door of a +grocery, and then shot into it. I saw him struggling out of his gown as he +disappeared, and thence inferred that the chief burgess was a grocer in +private life. +</p> + +<p> +So much I saw before pulling Sultan round to pass under the archway +leading into the yard of the "Rising Sun." I dismounted and called for an +ostler. No man appearing, I was about to lead Sultan farther down the yard +towards the stables when there was a scurry of feet behind me as if the +whole ostler-tribe of the "Rising Sun" was hastening to my assistance. I +turned round rattily to find myself looking into the barrel of a pistol, +while three or four men pounced on me and pinned me against the wall. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn ye, horse-thief, for the black of a bean I'd blow your brains out," +said Colonel Waynflete. "Stick tight, lads; and you, good host, fetch +along Master Mayor and the constable, and have me the scoundrel laid by +the heels. If this were only my commandery on the Rhine! I'd strappado you +and then hang you within the next half-hour. My bonny Sultan! How are you, +my precious?" +</p> + +<p> +When a raw youth leaves farming for knight-erranting he must expect sharp +turns and rough tumbles, but surely Fate and Fortune were overdoing it +now. It was the Colonel beyond doubt, and Margaret had limned him to the +life. The hawk-eyes, the hook nose, the leathery skin, the orange-tawny +campaign-wig with the grizzled hair peeping under the rim of it, the tall, +thin, supple figure, all were there. And if I had been in any doubt of it, +Sultan would have settled the matter, for his pleasure at finding his +master was delightful to witness. +</p> + +<p> +In hot blood I did not mind a pistol, and in the coldest blood I could +easily have kicked loose from the men who had got hold of me. But Margaret +kept my limbs idle and my mouth shut. There was no real danger, for that +matter, unless Margaret and Master Freake failed to turn up at the "Rising +Sun," and there was no reason to suppose they would fail. The Colonel gave +me no chance to speak to him privately, and to speak to him publicly might +upset his plans. How he had got here a free man, what strange turn things +had taken in his favour, I could not imagine. Margaret would be here in an +hour and put matters right, so for her sake it would be best and easiest +to say nothing. I simply made up my mind that the varlet on my right, +whose dirty claws and beery breath were sickening me, should have the +direst of drubbings before the day was out. +</p> + +<p> +Mine host bustled off for the Mayor, and, the news having gone around, +the yard was filled with people watching the fun and making a +mocking-stock of me. The Colonel saw Sultan off to be groomed and baited, +and then, without so much as a look at me, went into the inn and sat down +to his interrupted meal. I could see him plainly through the window, and +hugely admired his coolness. The maids clustered around to have a peep at +me. Such as were old and ugly declared off-hand that I was indisputably +ripe for the gallows, but a younger one with saucy eyes and cherry-red +cheeks blew a kiss, and called out to beery breath to deal gentlier with +me. He moved a little in turning to grin at her, and I shot my knee into +his wind and doubled him up on the ground. A stouter lad took his place, +but his breath was sweet and I gained much in comfort by the change. +</p> + +<p> +The situation had the saving grace of humour. For twenty-four hours I had +been on the stretch to save Colonel Waynflete from his enemies. To do it I +had left mother and sister, and home and lands. To do it I had come out +openly on the side of rebellion and treason. The sword had been at my +breast, and the wind of a bullet had stirred the hair of my head. I might +have spared my pains. All this pother of mine was over the man sitting +yonder, heartily enjoying his dinner. All my heroics had ended in my being +arrested as a horse-thief. +</p> + +<p> +I closed my eyes. Picture after picture came before me of Margaret in her +changing moods and her unchanging beauty. Gad! How cheaply I had bought +this gallery of precious memories! +</p> + +<p> +A throng of lads crowding noisily under the archway heralded the approach +of the dignitaries. First came the town beadle, a pompous little fellow +who wore a laced brown greatcoat many sizes too large for him, and carried +a cudgel of office thick as his own arm, and surmounted by a brass crown +the size of a baby's head. His office enabled him to be brave on the +cheap, so by dint of digging his weapon into the ribs of all and sundry, +they being, as he expressed it, too thick on the clod, he cleared a path +for the grocer-mayor, who had gotten himself again into his scarlet gown. +His worship was gawky, flustered, and uncertain, and listened like a +scared rabbit to mine host, a man of much talk, who explained proudly what +was to be done. +</p> + +<p> +"This is 'im, y'r worship," he said. "A dirty 'oss-thief as badly wants +'anging. Copped in the act, y'r worship, of riding into this 'ere yard o' +mine, as big as bull-beef, sitting on the very 'oss 'e'd stolen from his +lordship 'ere." +</p> + +<p> +His lordship was the Colonel, who had leisurely left his meal again to +settle my hash. I can see him now as he stood on the step of the inn-door, +carefully flicking a stray crumb or two from his waistcoat, and taking the +measure of the man he had to bamboozle, with clear, amused, grey eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"The Mayor of the town, I think," he said softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, your honour," said the good man surreptitiously wiping something, +probably sugar, off his hands on the lining of his gown. +</p> + +<p> +"And his beadle, your lordship," added the host, and the under-strapper +inside the greatcoat saluted the Colonel with a flourish of his tipstaff. +</p> + +<p> +"I am Colonel Waynflete," he answered in level measured tones, "riding on +important business of His Majesty's, and my horse was stolen at an inn, +some miles back, beyond Stafford. But for the kindness of my Lord Brocton +in providing me with another, His Gracious Majesty's affairs would have +been badly disarranged. This fellow came riding in on my horse, Sultan, a +few minutes ago and I ordered his arrest. He is now in your worship's +hands. I leave him there with confidence, merely remarking, on the warrant +of many years' observation in such matters, that he will require a stout +rope." +</p> + +<p> +He nodded to his dithering worship, and marched back slowly and calmly to +his dinner. + +"This beats cock-fighting," said mine host admiringly. He spread himself, +happy and conspicuous as a tom-tit on a round of beef, and the crowd, +pleasantly anticipating mugs of beer later on, urged the Mayor to be up +and doing. +</p> + +<p> +"What have you to say for yourself?" said his grocer-ship to me, with a +dim and belated idea, perhaps, that I might be interested in the +proceedings. +</p> + +<p> +"The beadle's coat is much too large for him," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "Samson Salt was a big man and had only +had the coat three years when he died, and we couldn't afford a new one +for Timothy. Dear me, but this isn't a council meeting, and what's the +beadle's coat got to do with horse-stealing?" +</p> + +<p> +"As much as I have," I replied gravely. +</p> + +<p> +"Yow've 'ad enough, my lad," said the host, "to last y'r the rest of y'r +life. The next 'oss you rides'll be foaled of an acorn. Let Timothy put +him in clink, Master Mayor, and come and have a noggin of the real thing. +Gom, I'm that dry my belly'll be thinking my throat's cut." +</p> + +<p> +"Arrest this man, Timothy Tomkins, and put him in jail till I can take +due order for his trial." +</p> + +<p> +Timothy turned up the sleeves of his coat, and arrested me by placing his +hand on my arm, and flourishing the brass crown in my face. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't hurt me, Timothy," I said. "I'll come like a lamb, and I'll go +slow lest you should tumble over the tail of your coat." +</p> + +<p> +"If you say another word about the blasted coat I'll split your head +open," was his angry reply. It was evidently a sore topic with him and a +familiar one with his frugal townsmen, for some man in the crowd cried +out, "'Tinna big enough for the missis, be it, Timothy?" And while the +peppery little beadle's eyes were searching the japer out, another added, +"More's the pity, for 'er's a bit of a light-skirt." At this there was a +roar of laughter, so I saved the frenzied officer further trouble by +saying, "Come along, Timothy. Let's go to jail." +</p> + +<p> +On the Mayor's orders, mine host despoiled me of the sergeant's tuck, and +Timothy marched me off to the jail, the rabble following, as full of +chatter as a nest of magpies. The jail was a small stone building, +standing, like the town hall, in the middle of the street. Arrived there, +Timothy thrust me into an ill-lit dirty hole below the level of the +street, locked the door behind me, and left me to my reflections. +</p> + +<p> +The only furniture of the den was a rude bench. A nap would do me good, +so, after a good pull at Kate's precious cordial, I curled up on the bench +and in a few minutes was sound asleep. And in my sleep I dreamed that two +blue stars were twinkling at me through a golden cloud. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN"</h3> + +<p> +A wisp of cloud, a long trail of shimmering gold, broke loose, swept with +the touch of softest silk across my cheek, and half awakened me. I was +lazily and sleepily regretting that such caresses only came in dreams, +when I was brought sharply back to full life by a ripple of hearty +laughter. +</p> + +<p> +"Gloat on!" said I complacently. +</p> + +<p> +"I knew you'd slip some time or other. Gloat! Of course I shall gloat." +And she laughed again. I should have borne it easily enough, coming from +her, under any circumstances, but there was one circumstance which made it +a pure joy. The white hands were busy with her unruly yellow hair, and I +was so far gone foolward that I was in some sort hopeful that they were +imprisoning the wisp of golden cloud that had awakened me. I bitterly +regretted that I was not as nimble at waking as Jack. He would be sleeping +like a leg of mutton one second and, at the touch of a feather, as wide +awake as a weasel the next. I took time--it was the Latin rubbish +cumbering my brain, he used to say--or I might have made sure. +</p> + +<p> +Mistress Margaret was perched on the edge of my bench. She seemed in no +hurry to move, and I could not get up till she did, so I lay still, +cradling my head in my hands, and looked contentedly at her. It was now so +gloomy that I had evidently been asleep some time. +</p> + +<p> +"I knew you'd slip," she repeated with great zest. "All men do. And I'm +glad you slipped, for it proved you human. I was getting quite overawed by +the terrible precision with which you did exactly the right thing at +exactly the right time. It made me feel so very small and inferior, and no +woman likes that. It's not nice." +</p> + +<p> +"Or natural," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"I see you're unmistakably awake, sir!" was the tart reply. She rose and +took short turns up and down the cell and went on: "But why slip into +jail, Master Wheatman? Why did you not tell father who you were and what +you had done for me?" +</p> + +<p> +"And so prove at once to the authorities in the town that he was not what +he pretended to be!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ho!" she said, and stopped short. +</p> + +<p> +"Our idea was, I think, to free the Colonel, if we could." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." She was not gloating now, but wondering. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, madam, I found him free, and the only advantage I can see in your +plan is, that I should have had him as a companion in jail. Whereas now +I've mended my night's sleep with a refreshing nap, and Master Freake has +so lucidly explained things to the Mayor that Timothy of the long coat is +kicking his heels at the top of the stairs, and wondering how much longer +you're going to be. Shall we once more breathe the upper air, as Virgil +would put it? This hole is as bad as a corner in his under-world." +</p> + +<p> +"And I laughed at you for slipping, Master Wheatman! I shall never dare +to look you in the face again." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you believe it, madam," said I airily, leading the way to the +steps. "I've heard Copper Nob say the same thing scores of times." +</p> + +<p> +"Who's Copper Nob?" +</p> + +<p> +The question came like the crack of a whip, and I was glad the familiar +phrase had slipped out unawares and diverted her. +</p> + +<p> +"Our Kate," I explained. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh indeed, sir! A more beautiful head of hair no woman in this land +possesses, and you glibly call her 'Copper Nob.' Doubtless you have +selected some nice expressive name for me!" +</p> + +<p> +"I shouldn't dare!" I protested hotly. +</p> + +<p> +"Why not? You do it for her, brazenly and wantonly." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, madam, but she's my sister." +</p> + +<p> +"How does that assure me?" +</p> + +<p> +"A man's sister isn't a woman," said I, and went ahead and pushed open +the door. There, sure enough, was Timothy, looking very uncertain and +rueful. The little man's complaisance had given me the greatest wonder of +my life--Margaret's silent watching over me as I lay asleep, and I gave +him a guinea with much gladness. +</p> + +<p> +"The coat's too big for you, Timothy, and it's no good denying it. I'll +speak to his worship about a new one of the right length." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank yer, sir," he said, grinning oafishly as he pouched the guinea. +"I'd rather have a new coat than a new missus, and, swelp me bob, I want +both." +</p> + +<p> +Margaret joined me, and we at once made our way to the "Rising Sun." Work +for the day was over, and the street was now getting thronged and noisy. +Many curious looks were bent on us, but no one dared to interfere with a +man of my evil reputation, a horse-thief being the last thing in +desperadoes. We had only a few yards to go, but my mistress apprised me in +sweet whisperings that Master Freake's explanation was that Sultan had +been innocently obtained from the real thief, that I was his servant, and, +not knowing of the horse deal, had loyally kept silent lest I should make +mischief--a happy and reasonably truthful rendering of the real facts. +</p> + +<p> +"After his private talk with Master Mayor," she added, "that worthy man's +knees were as hard worked as the hinges of an ale-house door." +</p> + +<p> +"The poor cringeling is but a grocer," said I, as we turned in under the +archway of the "Rising Sun." The host saw us through the kitchen window, +and ran out to usher us in with the assurance of a brass weathercock. +</p> + +<p> +"Sommat like a jail delivery, eh, y'r 'onour? Gom, if I wudna pinch fifty +'osses to be fetched out o' clink by such a bonny lady, begging your +ladyship's pardon." +</p> + +<p> +"She shall fetch you out," said I sourly, "when you're jailed for not +stealing." +</p> + +<p> +"His honour's commands are a law unto his handmaiden," said Margaret +demurely and icily, addressing him, but aiming point-blank at me. Her shot +blew me clean out of the water, and I stood there guggling like a born +idiot. "Curse you, will you never get out of your yokel's ways?" said I to +myself. It was as if I had said to the sergeant, speaking of Jane, "She +shall draw you a mug of beer." I was clean nonplussed, and felt as +uncomfortable as a boiling crawfish, but fortunately rattle-pate came to +my aid and drowned my confusion in a flood of words. +</p> + +<p> +"And all he said, y'r ladyship, was that Timothy's coat was too big for +'im. Gom, it beat cock-fighting, it did. Swelp me bob it did. I never saw +a man so staggered as the Mayor, but he's got over it fine, and gone 'ome, +good man, with a crick in his back and near on a pint of my best brandy in +his belly. When these 'ere wild Highland rappers and renders come, he's +just primed up to make 'em a grand speech at bridge yonder, and if that +dunna frighten 'em off, nuthin' wull, and my cellars will be as ill filled +with beer as Timothy's coat is with brawn. I'm getting the best supper on +the Chester road for yer, y'r honour, and that'll mike you feel as bold as +sixpence among sixpenn'orth o' coppers. But come along, y'r ladyship. The +Colonel's upstairs. Follow me!" +</p> + +<p> +Words ran out of him like ale out of a stunned barrel. He clacked on +incessantly on the way upstairs, and clacked as boldly as ever as he +ushered us into the room, where the Colonel was awaiting us alone. +</p> + +<p> +"'Ere 'e is, y'r lordship," he said gustily. "'Ere's the nobby gentleman +as didna steal yer 'oss. But yow'd best keep yer eye on 'im, on my say so. +He'll pinch sommat o' yow'n yet afore 'e's done." +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel, who was toasting his toes at a roaring fire, rose as I +followed Margaret towards him. He made me a precise and formal bow, which +I imitated farmer fashion. "This is Master Oliver Wheatman of the +Hanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host, +lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could not +have heard her. + +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow. +</p> + +<p> +"The honour is mine, sir," I replied, repeating mine, and wondering the +while if I ever should learn to bend like a willow instead of a jointed +doll. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, I protest, sir." This suavely to me; then, stepping sharply towards +the host, he stormed, "Damn ye, man, get on the landlord's side of the +door, or I'll rout it down around your lazy ears. Slids! I've shot an +innkepeer for less in the Rhineland." +</p> + +<p> +"Them 'ere furriners--" began the host, but the Colonel swamped him with +something of which I could make out nothing except that it was a fairly +successful attempt to talk and sneeze at the same time. It finished off +the host, who retired, beaten with his own weapon. The victor, waiting +till the door was closed, tiptoed up to it and listened carefully. +</p> + +<p> +"A rather interesting feature about dad," whispered Margaret with +mischief in her eyes, "is that when he's angry he curses in French, and +when he's mad he execrates in German." +</p> + +<p> +"Neatly rounding off his daughter's accomplishments," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And how, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who gibes in English and loves in Italian." +</p> + +<p> +She stabbed me with her eyes, and said, "Your services give you no +privileges, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"I know that, madam, but my yokelship does." +</p> + +<p> +I spoke lightly, keeping the bitterness of my heart out of my voice, +though it had surged up into my speech. I may have been mistaken, misled +by the flickering fire-light, but the anger seemed to melt out of her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The return of the Colonel ended our cut-and-thrust. +</p> + +<p> +"Soldiering," he said, "is nine-tenths caution and one-tenth devilment. +Yon glavering idiot has long ears to match his long tongue. And now, sir, +let me greet you as I should." +</p> + +<p> +He seized my hand, shook it warmly, and continued, "A father's thanks, +Master Wheatman, for your kindness to my Margaret. Anon she shall tell me +the whole story, but I know already that you are a gallant gentleman whom +I shall have the honour of turning into a fine soldier, and neither angel, +man, nor devil could make you fairer requital." +</p> + +<p> +Praise and promise were far beyond any desert or hope of mine, but I said +boldly, "I am no gentleman, but just a plain, few-acred yeoman, who has +tried to serve your daughter--" +</p> + +<p> +"Tried?" he snorted. "Tried, indeed! I've been soldiering man and boy +these forty odd years, and, slids, I've never known better work." He ran +me up and down with his eyes and, turning to Margaret, continued, "By the +beard of the prophet, Madge, Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards is a +vast improvement on the Baron." +</p> + +<p> +Margaret blushed daintily and hastily covered his mouth with her fingers. +</p> + +<p> +"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night." +</p> + +<p> +"Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight. +"This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, the +prepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her was +at Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden." +</p> + +<p> +"Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting. +</p> + +<p> +"So it was," he said heartily, conceding the point. "Escorted by, or +escorting, I was never clear which, a fat German baron nearly five feet +high, who begged me to horsewhip her into marrying him." +</p> + +<p> +"You shot him?" said I, so very energetically that Margaret's pout turned +into a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear me, no," he said, pretending to yawn. "I left him to Madge, poor +fellow! I hope you've given her every satisfaction, Master Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +"That he hasn't," said Margaret briskly. "He's spent far too much time +putting me in what he considers my proper place." +</p> + +<p> +"My friend," said he to me gravely, "you're in for a dog's life." +</p> + +<p> +"You're right about the life, dad, but wrong about the dog. Good-bye till +supper, you nasty ripper-up of your daughter's character!" +</p> + +<p> +So saying, she kissed him on each cheek, smiled at me, and left us. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd like to sluice the jail feeling off myself," said I to the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Right," he replied, looking at his watch. "You've just half an hour. I +find England irksomely restful and law-abiding after the Continent, but +I'm glad of it for once. I should be damnably vexed if I'd hanged you, and +Madge wouldn't have liked it either." +</p> + +<p> +He had a grave voice, like a judge's, and a quick, pert eye, like a +jackdaw's. Outwardly he was as unlike Margaret as the haft of a pike is +unlike a lily, but I already saw her spirit in him. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, "when I am fortified by a good supper, I will venture to +indicate my preferences on the subject." +</p> + +<p> +He took out his snuff-box, tapped it carefully, opened it, and held it +out to me. +</p> + +<p> +"You have begun well, sir. I hear you are a great scholar, Latin and all +that, quite pat. Damme, sir, those ancients understood things. They knew +how to honour the gods, for they made soldiers of 'em and set 'em fighting +in the clouds. There's divinity for you! You've got twenty-eight minutes." +</p> + +<p> +I laughed and left him. +</p> + +<p> +The room in which my introduction to the Colonel had taken place was +immediately over the archway. Its window opened on to a balcony which, +supported on thick oak balks, stood over the causeway of the street; its +door was in a passage leading from one wing of the house to the other, and +in the passage were three leaded lattice-windows of greenish glass, +plentifully sprinkled with blobs and nodes, giving on the long inn-yard. +The room was thus admirably situated for people in our precarious +position, having a look-out back and front, and a way of escape right and +left. +</p> + +<p> +The cherry-cheeked lass who had thrown me the kiss was tripping past the +door as I opened it. She told me that she had been attending on ''er +ladyship,' and willingly led me to a bedroom and brought me thither the +things I needed for my sluicing, among them a passable razor and a +huckaback fit to fetch the hide off a horse. +</p> + +<p> +"Give me now the kiss you threw me," said I, as she was turning to leave. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, sir," she said. "You're not in trouble now, and dunna need it." +</p> + +<p> +"Lassie," said I, "that's a right womanly reply, and here's something to +buy a ribbon with that shall be worthy of you." And I gave her one of the +dead Major's guineas. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank yer, sir," she said. "And besides there's no need for you to be +kissing the likes of me." +</p> + +<p> +"You're a sweetly pretty lassie," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Y' dunna want to be gawpin' around after pennies when there's guineas to +be picked up," she replied, with a toss of her head. "Struth, I wish at +times I wasna quite so pretty. There's some men, bless you, I know one +myself, such fools that they think a pretty wench doesna want kissin'. +But, sartin sure, there's never been the like of 'er ladyship in Newcastle +in my time. I'll 'ave a ribbon on Sunday as near the colour and shine of +'er ladyship's hair as money can buy, and Sail'll wish 'er'd never been +born. I'll Sim 'er." +</p> + +<p> +With this terrible threat she flounced out of the room, and I laughed and +wondered who and what 'Sim' was. A decent fellow and a good tradesman, I +hoped, and wished him pluck and luck. +</p> + +<p> +While I was tidying myself up, my mind was busy with the strange tangle +things were got into. The mysterious Master Freake, after turning the +Mayor into his pliant tool, had apparently disappeared. The Colonel had +not breathed a word of explanation, and seemed to feel so secure that he +was dawdling in the town as if no enemy were at hand. Of the state of +affairs in the town itself I knew nothing. The one clear thing was that I +had got my neck right into the noose, and Brocton could, and would, pull +tight at the first opportunity. What did all this matter? What did any +untoward event or result matter? I was going to be a soldier, and, after +the fashion of love-lorn Cherry-Cheeks, I said to myself, "I'll Jack him!" +I was going to be near Margaret, and, so rejoicing, bethought me of the +hapless Roman's "<i>Infelix, properas ultima nosse mala.</i>" And what did +that matter either? I rubbed myself the colour of a love-apple, humming +the while old-time ditties long since driven out of my head by the Latin +rubbish. Jack was right. Of course it was rubbish. "Latin be damned," said +I gleefully. "Nothing counts but life and love." +</p> + +<p> +There was more than a pinch of swagger in me as I made my way back to the +passage overlooking the yard. Arrived there, I cautiously opened the +nearest lattice and peered out. The inn-yard was dark and silent, and I +was on the point of closing the window when I heard the clatter of hoofs +on the stone-paving under the archway. A moment later a man on foot came +in sight, and was followed into the yard by two men on horseback, one of +them in charge of a led horse. +</p> + +<p> +At once all was bustle. Ostlers ran up with lanterns, and the host came +forward, candle in hand and a multitude of words on his tongue, to order +things aright. +</p> + +<p> +The man afoot was Master Freake, and it was clear that the riders were +men of his, for I heard him ask them if they were quite clear as to their +instructions, and both answered respectfully that they were. I could see +they wore swords and that their horses were splendid, powerful animals, +not much inferior to Sultan himself. Who and what was this man--"plain +John Freake," as he called himself,--who carried large sums of money, +domineered over self-important burgesses and mayors, who was served by +such well-appointed horsemen, whom Master Dobson, a parliament man, +feared, and my Lord Brocton had thought it worth while to attempt to put +out of the way? +</p> + +<p> +It was a riddle I could not read, but as I stood there, peering round the +half-open lattice at the scene below, I was happier than ever I had been +in my life. "Poor old Jack," said I to myself, "sweating and swearing over +your riff-raff dragooners, and here am I, who envied you yester-morn, on +the top rung of life." +</p> + +<p> +"We shall get it if we're late," said Mistress Margaret playfully in my +ear. "Not because dad worries whether he eats or not, but because he's so +strong on mil-it-ary dis-cip-line." I write the words so, as a poor, paper +imitation of the mincing gait she could put into her speech, which was +ever one of her delightfulnesses. "You'd have been the better," she went +on, "for a bringing-up on a troop-sergeant's switch. See what it's done +for me!" +</p> + +<p> +So she challenged me to admire her, and indeed I think that the witch was +verily bent on casting a spell over me. No words can paint her as she +stood in the dim-lit passage, the infinite sum of womanhood, peerless in +every grace and gift; not now the tense, proud Margaret of the quick +rebuke and the shattering sarcasm, but the mirthful, trustful, grateful +companion of our boy-and-girl escapade. +</p> + +<p> +"I think you're right, madam," said I. "Bloggs, dear old chap, flogged +the meaning of Virgil into me, but I wish he had flogged in some of the +meaning of life along with it. I feel as helpless as Saul would have felt +with David's sling and stones." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you as one fighting a Goliath?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am," said I, not able now to speak lightly, and not daring to look at +her. Could any enterprise be more hopeless than the one my heart, against +all the strivings of sense and reason, was beginning to set me? Through +the open lattice I watched the flicker of lanterns in the yard, where the +horses were being upped and whoaed stablewards. +</p> + +<p> +"You will favour me, sir, with your escort into supper," said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +This brought me to myself with a jerk. I closed the lattice, offered her +my arm, and we walked towards the guest-room where the Colonel was +awaiting us. +</p> + +<p> +"I think you'd better revise your knowledge of the Scriptures, Master +Oliver," said she very quietly as I led her into the room. +</p> + +<p> +"In what respect, Mistress Margaret?" +</p> + +<p> +"You seem to have an imperfect recollection of the way in which Goliath +met his death. It's idle to say we're late, dad, when supper's not yet +served." +</p> + +<p> +He exploded into words I did not understand. "It's all right, only +French," whispered Margaret mischievously. "It means 'name of a dog.' I +could swear better myself." +</p> + +<p> +"That's right," stormed the Colonel. "As fast as I curse soldiering into +one ear of him, you coax it out of the other! I'll be thankful when you're +under Mother Patterson's wing in Chester." +</p> + +<p> +The coming of Cherry-Cheeks and one of the hard-favoured maids with the +supper, followed by our host with the wine, followed in turn by Master +Freake, put an end to my first lesson in soldiering and the imprecatory +wealth of continental languages, and straightway the host slopped over +with apologies for the delay in serving the supper. +</p> + +<p> +"Things are a bit upset in the town, y' mun know," he said, "and every +wench in the 'Rising Sun' 'as been a devil unknobbed all day. This +red-faced hussy here, when 'er was wanted to set the table, was off to see +if that spindle-shanked Sim across at the Mayor's was safe and sound. And +besides, my lady and y'r 'onours, the famous steak-and-kidney puddin' o' +the 'Rising Sun' must be boiled to a bubble or it's dummacked. If one got +spiled, the news 'ud run down to Chester and up to London in no time, and +the 'Red Lion' 'ud get all my customers. His Grace of Kingston put up at +the 'Red Lion' in all innocence until his worship, for old friendship's +sake and a bottle of brandy, 'ticed 'im over 'ere to one of my puddin's. +'E started an inch off the table and ate till 'e touched, as we say in +Staffordsheer, and then sent for 'is baggage, and 'as lain 'ere ever since +in the great bedchamber over y'r yeds, an' I'm thinking to call it the +Duke's Room an' charge sixpence extra for it. It's worth another sixpence +to sleep in the same bed as a duke's slep' in. If it ain't, by gom, I'd +like to know what he is for. Damn if y'r can tell by lukkin' at 'im." +</p> + +<p> +What I have for convenience' sake set down here as a continuous speech +addressed to us all, was really a series of remarks addressed to whichever +of us appeared for the moment to be listening, and broken by commands, +scoldings, and threats addressed to the women. The tail-end of his remarks +made me cock my ear, for it indicated that we were at the centre of the +danger zone. +</p> + +<p> +"If I were you," interposed Master Freake at last, "I'd coax Prince +Charlie to sleep in it and then charge a shilling extra. A prince, and my +dislike of his ways doesn't unprince him, is surely worth twice as much as +a duke." +</p> + +<p> +"Swelp me bob," cried the delighted host, slapping his thigh in high +glee, "that 'ud be better than a murder. It's wunnerful how a murder 'elps +a 'ouse. Tek the 'Quiet Woman' o' Madeley. There was a murder there, and a +damn poor thing of a murder it was, nothing but a fudge-mounter cuttin' a +besom-filer's throat; poor wench, 'er lived up on th' Higherland yonder, +and I'll bet it was wuth two-and-twenty barrel of beer to owd Wat. A +murder's clean providential to a pub--" +</p> + +<p> +"Damn, get out," vociferated the Colonel, "or I'll provide the murder and +you the corpse." +</p> + +<p> +The meal, be it said, was thoroughly good in every way. I'm not the man +to despise my belly, and I don't hold with those that do. There are better +things in life than steak-and-kidney puddings, but my experience is they +want a lot of finding. The Colonel would not hear of any talk about our +affairs till supper was over. "I dare say you're all agog to know what +I've been doing and what we are going to do," he said to me. "That's +because you're a youngster at everything and a mere infant-in-arms at +soldiering. When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that the +only things really worth bothering about are supper and bed." +</p> + +<p> +To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argument +with Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if I +remember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a rare +treat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty. +</p> + +<p> +At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with a +mischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, but +I prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them." +</p> + +<p> +"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso." +</p> + +<p> +"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips. +</p> + +<p> +"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder." +</p> + +<p> +She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radiance +of her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're a +brute." +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel." +</p> + +<p> +She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her hand +beneath the hawthorns. +</p> + +<p> +"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who was +right about the dog's life?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly. +</p> + +<p> +The host was rung for, his supper praised to his heart's content, the +table cleared, and a dish of tea ordered for Margaret. Bethinking me of +the sergeant's tuck, which might be useful, I asked the host to bring it +up, and he did so. +</p> + +<p> +When we were again left to ourselves, the Colonel took the sword, and +examined it with his skilful eyes and practised hands. +</p> + +<p> +"Somewhat heavy," said he, "but well balanced and well made, and of the +truest steel. Are you a swordsman, Master Wheatman?" +</p> + +<p> +"I never had one in my hand in my life till to-day," was my reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Gird him for the wars, Margaret," said he. "So much of the ancient rules +and customs of chivalry as can be observed in these mechanic days shall, +by us at any rate, be observed. In strict law you ought to have spent a +night in prayer and fasting, but your loyal service to Margaret is a good +equivalent. To labour is to pray, say the parsons, and, my lad, always +remember in your soldiering that a so-minded man can offer up a powerful +prayer between pull of trigger and flash of priming. Kneel, Oliver, and in +God's sight you shall be more truly knighted than any capering and +chattering of German Geordie's can contrive." +</p> + +<p> +And so, in the guest-room of the "Rising Sun," I knelt to my sweet +mistress, and, before God and in the presence of Christopher Waynflete, +Colonel of Horse in the service of the King of Sweden, and John Freake, +citizen of London, Margaret, gravely and serenely beautiful, touched my +shoulder with the sword and then girded it upon me. +</p> + +<p> +"Sirs," she said, addressing her father and Master Freake, "the accolade +has never been given to a worthier." Then, bending swiftly as a swallow +dips in its flight over the meadows, she whispered emphatically in my +ears, "Yokel it no more!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<h3>PHARAOH'S KINE</h3> + +<p> +"And now to business," said Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"To pleasure, sir," said the Colonel. "Business is over." +</p> + +<p> +He was leisurely filling his pipe, an example which Margaret, with a +smile and a nod, gave me permission to follow. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell us how you escaped," said Margaret. "Master Wheatman cannot too +soon begin to learn the tricks of the trade. Sorry, dad," bending to kiss +his hand; "you needn't look at me in German. I mean rudiments of the +profession." +</p> + +<p> +"A woman who calls soldiering a trade ought to be forcibly married to a +parson," said the Colonel passionately. +</p> + +<p> +"There'll be a reasonable quantity of parsons to choose from at Chester," +she retorted, laughing up in his face. +</p> + +<p> +"Chester? Why Chester?" demanded Master Freake, suddenly tense and +vigilant. +</p> + +<p> +"I need name no name, but a certain dignitary's lady there, one of our +supporters, undertook to take her in charge while this affair was on," +explained the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake, it seemed to me, was disappointed with the explanation, +and, knowing that what Margaret wanted was to have the rumour of her +father's intended treachery blown to pieces by his own account, I said, +"There's only one parson in England fit to look at Mistress Margaret, and +he's sixty and married. Let me learn, I pray you, sir, the art of slipping +out of the hands of a squad of dragoons on a road crowded with soldiery." +</p> + +<p> +"If you think you are to hear a tale that will make you grip the arms of +your chairs, you're in for a sad disappointment. Yesterday and through the +night, they stuck to me as if Geordie had offered thirty thousand pounds +for me, dead or alive, but this morning their hold on me slackened. They +might have intended me to escape. I was put on a fresh horse, about the +best they'd got; the dragoon in charge of me was three parts drunk when we +started; we got mixed up in a crowd of foot retreating south, and +separated from our main body, and finding myself alone on the road with +one man, and him drunk, I just knocked him off his horse, and cleared off +across the fields. +</p> + +<p> +"I rode on until I got a sight of this town, and the main road into it, +from a hill-top, and watched for an hour or so to see what was happening. +I knew by my pace that I was well ahead of my late escort, and seeing no +signs of them, came on to this inn, and was enjoying a good dinner when I +saw Sultan and Oliver on him. The rest you know. Not much of a tale. Madge +has done better many a time." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you really think the Captain intended you to escape?" It was Margaret +who asked the question, looking intently at me as she spoke. +</p> + +<p> +I looked from her to Master Freake and back again, meaning to remind her +that I wanted no convincing, but she still kept her eyes on mine, her chin +cupped in her long white hands, and I was glad of her insistence for I +could look at her without offence. I thought the mellow fire-light made +her look more beautiful than ever. The lustrous yellow hair shone like +molten gold, and the dark blue eyes became a queenly purple. +</p> + +<p> +"If it were done on purpose it was done cleverly," continued the Colonel, +"for the chance which set me free came quite naturally. The horse I rode +yesterday was wanted in the usual way by a trooper to whom it belonged, +and where so many men were more or less drunk, the choice of my particular +drunkard was certainly accidental. And, besides, what possible motive +could there be in letting me escape? Brocton knows I'm an experienced +soldier of great repute--I state plain facts--and am eagerly expected by +the Prince and by my old companion-in-arms, Geordie Murray. They couldn't +have planned it better if they had wished it, but it's absurd to say they +wished it. There ought to be a cashiered captain and a half-flayed dragoon +somewhere south of us. Damme, I merit that at least." +</p> + +<p> +He bent over the hearth to relight his pipe. Master Freake smiled and +rubbed his hands gently. Margaret's eyes blazed with triumph, and +challenged me, still me, to share it. Woman-logic was clean beyond my poor +wits. I was sick for action. These glorious interludes with Margaret gave +me no chance. It was like setting me afire and asking me not to burn. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking of the poor, half-flayed devil behind us, made me think of the +sergeant, and I asked Master Freake, "Did you give the sergeant his papers +and letter?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," was the ready reply. "The papers dealt rather frankly with certain +regimental accounts, and, since the sergeant is now very bitterly set +against us, may be useful in my hands. I had a shrewd notion that the +letter concerned the title to certain lands as to which Lord Brocton and I +are at odds, and on opening it I found to my satisfaction that I was +right. With your permission, Oliver, I will keep it." +</p> + +<p> +"By all means do so," said I, anxious to burn again, and turning back to +Margaret. If this silent, capacious man, so great a stranger yet so clear +a friend, had said that the letter was about a new edition of Virgil, I +should have believed him, and also, I fear me, have been equally +uninterested. Latin be damned! +</p> + +<p> +"Something for you in Oliver's magic-hat," said Margaret smilingly to +Master Freake. "He really must fetch something out for himself soon. +Staffordshire is by far the most delightful country I have ever been in. +Only one little day has gone by, and in that day Staffordshire has given +me more and truer friends than Europe gave me in ten years. I shall cross +its borders with regret. Shall we make the most of it while we have it and +sleep here, dad?" +</p> + +<p> +"Unless we're routed out," was his reply, "and I do not think we shall +be, for the enemy have all cleared out of the town. Cumberland is, of +course, doing the right thing. He had few men north of Stafford, and fewer +still worth powder and shot. Where the Prince is I've no idea." +</p> + +<p> +"Resting for the day at Macclesfield," said Master Freake, "and his plans +are not certain, or, at least, not known. The Duke of Kingston has a small +body of horse at Congleton and is watching his movements." +</p> + +<p> +"Damme," the Colonel broke in, "I did not know we had enemies north of +us. Are you sure?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certain. One of my men reported the facts to me just before supper." +</p> + +<p> +"It's awkward, or rather will be awkward if anyone who knows me turns up. +That rascally landlord of ours must have known where Kingston was, but +amid all his talk he never told me that. Damme, somebody's got hold of +him. Still, you can't take the bull by the horns till his nose is +slobbering your waistcoat, so pass the wine, Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +He refilled his glass and then, leisurely and with his eyes dreamily +fixed on the fire, loaded his pipe with a new charge of tobacco, and went +on smoking. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you a Jacobite?" suddenly asked Margaret, looking inquiringly at +Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear me, no, Mistress Margaret," was the frank reply. "But you need not +curl those sweet lips of yours, for neither am I a Hanoverian." +</p> + +<p> +"Then what are you?" she asked again, with the same uncompromising +directness. +</p> + +<p> +"A Freakeiteian," said he with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"It puzzles me," was her brief comment. +</p> + +<p> +"Let me explain," said he simply. "A Jacobite wants Charles to win; a +Hanoverian wants George to win; a Freakeiteian wants to know who is going +to win." +</p> + +<p> +By this time Margaret was no more puzzled than I was. Yesterday when I +stood on the river-bank watching my cork, I cared not a rap whether George +or Charles won, and that was an understandable position; but why a man +should be spending money in handfuls, and roughing it in the wilds of +Staffordshire, merely in order to know who was going to win, was beyond my +poor wits. +</p> + +<p> +"You do not understand?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Margaret and I together. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel took no notice. He was puffing away at his pipe, +long-drawn-out, solemn puffs, and gazing at the fire in a brown study. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Margaret and Oliver," said Master Freake, "this is no time to be +giving you lessons in the way the great world wags that neither knows nor +cares of outs and ins and party shufflings, but is busy with rents and +crops, and incomings and outgoings, and debts and credits, and wivings and +thrivings. But, believe me, in being anxious to know who is going to win, +I am as plainly and simply doing my duty as is the Colonel who is going to +do his best to help his Prince to win. I am one, and, I thank God, not the +least, of that great race of men who are destined to mould a mightier +England than the sword could ever carve--the merchant of London whose nod +is his bond." +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with simple dignity and his word was established. I had trusted +him on sight. "His nod was his bond." You saw it in the man's clear, +steady eyes and knew it by the set of his firm, square chin. After a +warning glance at the silent Colonel, he leaned forward, and Margaret bent +to meet him. +</p> + +<p> +"If Charles loses," he murmured, "many heads will be smitten from their +shoulders." +</p> + +<p> +The colour left her cheeks instantly and tears welled forth from her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"But not the Colonel's," he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +I was watching her with the eye of a hawk. A smile dawned on the white +face, the sad eyes began to lose their gloom, and my fool of a heart began +to flutter. +</p> + +<p> +Yet once more he whispered, "And not Oliver's." +</p> + +<p> +She leaned farther forward still and kissed him. +</p> + +<p> +And it was just at that moment that the door opened smartly and +Cherry-Cheeks put her sweet head round it and swiftly and peremptorily +beckoned me outside. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret laughed. +</p> + +<p> +In the dim passage, Cherry-Cheeks caught my hand affrightedly and +babbled, "Oh, sir, there's the ugliest beast you ever saw spying on her +ladyship. Take your boots off, sir, and creep after me!" +</p> + +<p> +I tugged them off and we started. Along the passage she flew and upstairs +into the corresponding passage above. Here, outside the Duke's room, she +stopped and whispered, "He'll think I'm that bitch Sal. Hide behind me!" +</p> + +<p> +She opened the door and stole into the room with me in tow, holding her +skirt and crouching down nearly to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +She was somewhat broad in the beam, like a Dutch hoy, and all I could see +was a dull glimmer somewhere ahead in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +"Ssss-h, damn ye," said the beast fiercely. "Stand still!" +</p> + +<p> +Cherry-Cheeks took care not to stop till near the light, and then, with +wonderful ready wit, put her right hand on her hip and I peeped through +between arm and waist. +</p> + +<p> +Full length on his belly lay the man from Yarlet Bank. There was a small +spy-hole in the floor, on the edge of the hearth, and he had his right ear +against it, which was lucky, for it kept his face turned from me. The +notebook lay open on the floor near a guttering tallow candle in an iron +candlestick, and the stump of pencil was clenched in his dirty yellow +teeth. +</p> + +<p> +I threw my handkerchief on the floor, took my fat little Virgil in my +left hand, and crept out to him. When near on top of him, I gripped him +round the nape of the neck, digging my fingers in his flabby throat, and +he went slimy with fright like a great, fat lob-worm. I swooped down on +him with my full weight, and pinned him to the floor. His big mouth opened +as he fought for breath, and I clapped the Virgil hard and far into it, +tying it tight in with my handkerchief, and gagging him effectually. +</p> + +<p> +I looked up and found, to my relief, that Cherry-Cheeks, like a sensible +girl, had crept out of the room, and her share in the affair was never +even suspected. +</p> + +<p> +Drawing my tuck, I touched the back of his neck with the point. He +flinched and squirmed, great drops of sweat larded his nasty face, and I +knew the fear of death and hell was in his marrow. +</p> + +<p> +"Do exactly what I say," I whispered, "or through it goes. Understand?" +</p> + +<p> +He could hardly nod his ugly head for the trembling of his body, and I +fairly dithered as I knelt on him. I made him rise, and then caught hold +of the skirt of his coat. Holding him by it at arm's length, I stuck my +point to his neck again, and said, "Forward." + +I marched him downstairs and along the passage. There was great risk of +being met by some one, and it was the most anxious time I had had since +the affair with the sergeant in the house-place at the Hanyards. Oddly +enough, as I drove him along, the thought came to me of the bygone days +when Jack and I had played horses just like this at the Hanyards, and when +my prisoner stuck a trifle at the door of the guest-room, I growled at +him, "Come up!" It was a strange trick of the mind. To me he was just +play-horse Jack dawdling to look at ten-year-old Kate feeding her +chickens. +</p> + +<p> +I got him in unseen without and unnoticed within, for the Colonel and +Master Freake were again at their arguments of state, hammer and tongs, +and they minded the click of the door behind them no more than the crack +of a spark at their feet. Indeed the Colonel said "Pish!" with great +vehemence, and Master Freake's "My dear sir!" had a shake of pepper in it. +As for me, I like a man who, when he gets into a thing, gets into it up to +the neck. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret added to my amusement, for as I pricked my prisoner on into the +fire-light, and peeped over his shoulder, he being a good six inches +shorter than I, madam leaned forward and became absorbed in the high +debate. +</p> + +<p> +"I beg to report, sir," said I, as indifferently as I could manage to +speak, "the capture of a spy." +</p> + +<p> +"Hang him at daybreak," said the Colonel, without so much as looking at +him. "Pish, man, the trade in salted herrings is no more a nursery of +seamen than I'm--Damme, what's this, Oliver? Damme, it's Weir. Your +servant, Mister Weir, and I shall vastly relish seeing you strung up." +</p> + +<p> +I gave a brief account of where and how I had found him, making no +mention of our helpful girl friend, but pointing out that he had +co-scoundrels at work for him in the inn. +</p> + +<p> +"Another good piece of work, Oliver," said the Colonel. "I like the way +you use your available material. I've seen many things used as gags, but +not a book before; yet it makes a very good one. Keeps him quiet as a +stone and withal leaves him free to lick up a few crumbs of learning." +</p> + +<p> +Margaret had not looked at me yet, and indeed seemed bent on keeping her +face, heightened in colour by the warmth and glow of the fire, turned away +from me. Now a rather big matter had come into my mind, so I said +urgently, "Name of a dog," and thus shook her into looking at me. +Whereupon, I pointed first to Mr. Freake, then to the spy, and wagged my +head sagely. Her quick mind saw at once that I was afraid that our friend +would be compromised if we were not careful. She promptly said something +to her father in an unknown tongue, and by the cock of his eye I knew he'd +taken the point. +</p> + +<p> +"My good friend," he said, "pray step over to his worship the Mayor and +ask him to come over and commit this rascally spy to the town jail. Say, I +beg, that I am grieved to have to disturb him, but His Majesty's servants +must ever be at the disposal of His Majesty's affairs." +</p> + +<p> +I grinned behind the spy's back at this masterly way of getting George's +servant to do James's work. Master Freake started at once, and, stepping +with him to the door, I whispered, "Give us fifteen minutes." +</p> + +<p> +"Right!" he whispered back again. "Look in your holsters!" +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he had gone, the Colonel ordered me to guard the door, and +this gave me the chance of putting on my boots again. The Colonel, cutting +off with his sword a good length of bell rope, made a swift and most +workmanlike job of tying the spy into a knot. He then opened the window, +and, Margaret taking my place meanwhile, he and I cautiously bundled Weir +on to the balcony, shut down the window, and left him safe and silent. +</p> + +<p> +"Be in the porch in ten minutes, Margaret, ready to start. Oliver, get +the horses there ready in that time. You ride the troop-horse, and Freake +has provided a mare for Margaret. Quick's the work and sharp's the motion!" +</p> + +<p> +Margaret and I started together to carry out our orders. Once in the +passage we had to go different ways, and I bowed and was going mine +without a word, when she put her hand on my arm and stayed me. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sorry you've lost your Virgil," she said. +</p> + +<p> +I wondered, as already so many times I had wondered, at the somersaults +of feeling she was capable of. Where was now the Margaret of the short, +disdainful laugh? Not here, in the twilight between the bright room and +the black yard. Here was a subtle, mysterious Margaret, half regret and +half caprice, with one thought in her eyes and another on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +"So am I, madam. I wish it had been Kate's cookery-book." +</p> + +<p> +She would have mastered me had I stayed another second. I bowed again and +left her. +</p> + +<p> +And this is, perhaps, the best place to say that I did not lose my Virgil +after all. Here it is on the table as I write, still the dearest of all my +books. On each side of the healing an irregular curve of teeth-marks cuts +into the yellowing parchment. Dear, brave Cherry-Cheeks sent it home by +the hands of a vagrom pedlar, laboriously and exactly writing on the +package the inscription she found on the fly leaf: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + OLIVER WHEATMAN, Esquire,<br> + of the Hanyards,<br> + Staffordshire,<br> + <i>Aetatis anno</i> 13 +</p> + +<p> +I routed out ostlers, and by dint of a judicious blend of cursings and +bribings had the horses ready under the archway in time. Margaret was +there waiting, with our pretty maid fluttering around her. The Colonel was +within, settling with the word-warrior host. I helped Margaret into the +saddle and led her horse into the street, turning its head northward. In a +moment, her father clattered after her on Sultan. I went back to smile +farewell to Cherry-Cheeks and deal out my bribes, but was after them +before they had trotted a stone's throw. +</p> + +<p> +They were cantering towards the bridge by which the high street of the +town crosses a tiny streamlet and again becomes the high road to the +north-west. It was only a pistol-shot from the portico of the "Rising Sun" +to the hither side of the bridge, where a group of townsmen were collected +round a man with a lantern. We had ridden forth into a strangely quiet +town, but before I was half-way to the bridge, and not yet settled down to +my saddle, loud shrieks rang out behind me. Looking back, I saw a woman +leaning forth, candle in hand, from the Duke's bedroom window. She waved +her light and yelled as one distraught. There was no mistaking what had +happened. Sal, the sour-faced hussy who wanted me hanged, had learned the +fate of the spy. Folks rushed from all quarters to see what was the +matter. The sooner we were well out of it the better, and I pricked on to +overtake the Colonel and Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +I was near on them at the bridge, where the gossips had lined up to watch +them pass. Timothy was there, thankful for once, I thought, of his long +coat, while the man who held the lantern was the man to whom I owed a +drubbing. I wondered what he was doing there with a lantern, for it was a +brilliant moonlight night, and, since he made to run townwards as soon as +he saw who was passing, I felt in my bones that he meant mischief and was +probably in league with the spy. I turned my horse at him before he was +clear of the bridge and tumbled him back headlong on Timothy, who yelled +the most astonishing yell I ever heard, snatched the lantern out of Beery +Breath's unresisting fingers, and with it smashed into him with such a +fury that he beat him to his knees. +</p> + +<p> +I laughed, for the man had got his drubbing after all, through me if not +by me. As for the other townies, they enjoyed it like a play. +</p> + +<p> +"Gom!" said one. "He's trod on Tim's gammy toe." +</p> + +<p> +"Damn if he don't turn on 'is missus when 'er does that," said another. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel and Margaret were looking back when I drew level. +</p> + +<p> +"Anything the matter?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"The spy is discovered, sir," I said. +</p> + +<p> +"Does that mean harm to Master Freake?" inquired Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Not it," replied the Colonel. "He's got the Mayor in his pocket. Do you +know this country, Oliver?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir," was my answer. "Only in broad outline. This is the main road +to Chester, and away on our right is an open country running up into +roughish moorland and hills. Leek lies that way on the Derby road to +London. The country to our left I know nothing about." +</p> + +<p> +"Then we'll stick to the main road as long as possible and stop at the +first inn after all danger-spots are behind us. Sorry to turn you out, +Madge, but it was impossible to stop once Weir found us out, since +Kingston and his men might have turned up at any moment, and then we +should have been done for. All we have to do is to get north of him. From +the south we have nothing to fear now. Brocton's dragoons would have +turned up hours ago if there was any intention of trying to recapture me. +Freake had sent one of his men down the road to give us time to clear off +if Brocton did pursue. That was why I was content to stay on at the inn." +</p> + +<p> +"Weir knows who you are, sir, I take it?" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. He's a notorious Government spy, and is busy here worming into +our local plans. There are plenty of the honest party hereabouts, and +especially over to the west there in Wales." +</p> + +<p> +"Are we still in Staffordshire, Master Wheatman?" asked Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, for quite a distance ahead," I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"The spirit of prophecy is upon me, gentlemen," she said merrily. "Our +Staffordshire luck is not yet out, and this time it's Master Wheatman's +turn." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, Master Wheatman shall ride ahead and scout for it. About +thirty yards, Oliver. Keep your horse well in hand, and be all eyes and +ears. Damn this moon! It picks us out like three crows on a field of snow, +and this infernal road's as straight and level as a plank. Ride in any +available shadow!" +</p> + +<p> +I went ahead and set them an easy pace. Work had begun again, the work of +my heart's desire, and all along the Chester road there was no blither +spirit than mine that night. I was astride a flaming sorrel, no match for +Sultan, but still a good sound horse. He knew I was his master and so I +made him a friend, patting his neck, crooning to him, and giving him a +lick of sugar out of my hand. The danger we were in was like wine to my +heart. Enemies ahead and enemies behind, and this bare, bleak, +moon-smitten road between. Now and again, for remembrance' sake and the +joy of it, I cocked my ear to pick out the patter of Margaret's mare from +the heavier, longer strides of Sultan. Yes, there she was, doubtless +murmuring Italian love-ditties to her happy inmost self and thinking +of--Pshaw! This was romancing, and another's romance at that, and it +deadened me against my will, while here was a man's work to do. So I +turned to it and lived. +</p> + +<p> +I examined the holsters, according to Master Freake's orders. I found a +pair of pistols which, even in the pale moonlight, looked what they indeed +were--handsome, accurate weapons, the best work of the best gunsmith in +London. I was the equal of most men with the pistol, and usually had, +indeed, a capital pair at the Hanyards, but Jack had taken them off with +him on his dragooning. Over and above the pistols and their ammunition I +found a sizeable leathern bag, and the feel of it to my fingers showed +that it was chock-full of money. When I did turn it out next day, I found +near on sixty pounds, mostly in guineas and half-guineas, and a note: +</p> + +<p> +"Dear lad, this town is very bare of guineas and many of them are lighter +than the law alloweth, but you shall have more as occasion offers.--Your +friend, J. F." +</p> + +<p> +I turned to the road again with a merrier heart than ever, for I thought, +as Smite-and-spare-not would have thought before me, that the very +handiwork of God Himself was here displayed, in that the seemingly most +untoward events of our journey had been turned into means of strength and +assurance. Had I, as I ought to have done, brought money of my own from +the Hanyards, I should never have started highwayman, and so never have +met Master Freake on Wes'on Bank. +</p> + +<p> +Three miles or more we made in this manner, and I had heard nothing more +alarming than the hoot of an owl from an ivy-crusted elm. Some distance +back the road had climbed slightly for a space, then fallen into the level +again, and now ran, open and unhedged, across the bleaky top of a barren +upland. I chirruped to the sorrel and gave him another lick of sugar to +comfort him. A moment later, I knew by the forward cock of his ears and +the swift up-shake of his head that something was in the wind, and +strained my own ears to listen, for there was nothing of note visible +ahead or around. +</p> + +<p> +From far ahead came the faint rattle of hoofs on the hard road. I pulled +up, and, a moment later, Margaret and the Colonel stopped beside me. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it?" asked the latter. +</p> + +<p> +"Horse coming this way, sir," was my reply. The sounds were already +plainer. For a full minute he listened carefully. "A good number of them, +and making a smart pace," he said. "It can only be Kingston's advance +guard falling back. Most likely the van of the Highlanders has beaten up +their quarters. Once past them we shall be--Hello! Slids! What's that? +Reinforcements! Egad. Oliver, we're between the hammer and the anvil." +</p> + +<p> +He turned his head round sharply and so did Margaret and I. From behind +us came again the unmistakable rattle of a body of horse. We were trapped +completely. +</p> + +<p> +"This is damned annoying," said the Colonel. He looked casually around, +as indifferently as he would have looked round the guest-room of the +"Rising Sun," and added, "Follow me, and ride as if the devil were at your +tail." +</p> + +<p> +He turned off into the bare, flat country, and we after him. How we rode! +He was making for a little group of trees, some dozen wind-sown pines, +stuck like a forlorn picket in enemy country a stone's-throw from the +road. We got there in a bunch, for there was no time for Sultan's pace to +count. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn the moon!" he said, and dismounted. "But this is better than +nothing. Take off Margaret's saddle, Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +I got down, and assisted Margaret to dismount. She thanked me, briefly +and smilingly, as unperturbed as the gaunt pine beneath which she stood. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel and I changed the saddles, and in a few seconds Margaret was +on Sultan. I asked him in vain to take the sorrel and leave the mare to +me, for she was getting restive, and the Colonel was not quite so able as +I was with a strange horse. I insisted, however, in taking off my coat and +wrapping it about the mare's head, and, being thus blanketed, she gave us +no further trouble. By the Colonel's orders, Margaret, on Sultan, took her +place between us, heading for the open country, while he and I turned to +the road. The thin, straggling pine-branches cast but little shadow, and I +knew it was next to impossible for us to pass unnoticed. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Madge," said the Colonel, "it's bound to come to a fight. As soon +as the fun begins, off you go like the wind into this bog-hole in front of +you, and in five minutes you'll be out of danger. Make a detour round to +the road again, keep the moon behind your back, and push on to the nearest +inn. Oliver and I will join you there, if so God wills. If we don't, +you're on the Chester road. Have you your money still?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dad." +</p> + +<p> +"You understand, Madge?" +</p> + +<p> +"Quite clearly." +</p> + +<p> +"Then kiss me, sweetheart." +</p> + +<p> +She kissed him without a word, and turned to look goodbye to me. For a +moment I went all aquiver with emotion. This wonderful new life of mine +had at times to be lived in the outskirts and suburbs of death. +Fortunately, a thought came into my head, and I tugged out the leathern +bag and thrust it into her hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't leave that under the bed," said I, and, being very bold, as one +may be with death at one's door, I drew her gloved hand, with the bag in +it, towards me, and kissed it. She said nothing to me, but the light in +her eyes was like moonlight on the dancing surface of a mountain spring. +</p> + +<p> +"Look to your pistols, Oliver," ordered the Colonel briefly and crisply. +"See your tuck slips easy in the scabbard. Another minute will decide. You +and I can easily give Madge all the start Sultan requires." +</p> + +<p> +"Easily, sir," I answered stoutly. +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad!" said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +And Margaret, leaning across until her lips were near my cheek as I bent +to see what she wanted, said, for the third time, "Well done, fisherman!" +I laughed lightly and was glad, for was not this calm, brave, splendid +woman thinking of how we two had met? +</p> + +<p> +From the first cock of the sorrel's ears to this so characteristic remark +of Margaret's could not have been five minutes, and now, although owing to +the downward slope to our left I have mentioned, and its corresponding +slope to the right, neither body was yet in sight, they were so nearly on +us that differences between them became obvious. The southern troup was +small, was not travelling beyond a smart trot, and was, so far as the men +were concerned, absolutely quiet. The body from the north was large, was +forcing a hot gallop, and much noise and shouting came from the troopers. +</p> + +<p> +It was plain that we were in for it. The men from Newcastle were no doubt +coming north as a reinforcement, but it was absurd to suppose that they +had not been told of our doings and of our escape northwards. They had not +overtaken us, and we must be on the road somewhere. The men from the north +had not met us. Never since the world began had two and two been easier to +put together. There was only one place for us to be in and this was it. A +short parley, a glance our way, and an overwhelming force would dash at +the picket of pines. +</p> + +<p> +The bare road lay there in the moonlight, half a mile of it in clear view +on either hand. The two bodies came in sight within a few seconds of each +other, and the Colonel snapped his fingers and chuckled. +</p> + +<p> +From the north a wild rush of spurring, flogging, shouting, cursing +horsemen, about a hundred of them. No order, no discipline, no +soldiership--nothing but mad haste and madder fear. +</p> + +<p> +The mare began to plunge, and the Colonel, leaping off, nearly strangled +her in the coat. The sorrel got uneasy but gave me no real trouble. Sultan +took not the slightest notice of the din behind him, and leisurely cropped +the tough bussocks of grass at his feet. +</p> + +<p> +I looked to the road again. The southern body was small, not more than a +score, compact, riding smartly but with military order and precision. The +man at their head, the officer in command, no doubt, spurred on and began +to shout at the oncoming northerners. He might as well have spoken fair +words to an avalanche, and the men behind him began to waver and most of +them pulled up. It was useless. The torrent swept into them and bore them +backward, tumbling some of them over, men and horses together, but +incorporating most of them in its own madness. In less than five minutes +the last batch of dragooners had cursed and spurred themselves out of +sight, and the bright moon shone down on a road once more bare and white +save for a few scattered patches of black. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel uncovered the mare's head and nuzzled her. All he said was, +but that very gleefully, "Geordie, my boy, I'll be routing you out of St. +James's within the fortnight. I'll learn you to neglect the King of +Sweden's Colonels! Damme, Oliver, it made me think of Pharaoh's kine--one +lot eating the other up. Now, sweetheart my Madge, we'll have your pretty +eyes a-bye-bye in no time." +</p> + +<p> +"I never saw anything so funny in my life," said Margaret. "On with your +coat, Oliver, before you take cold." +</p> + +<p> +From all of which I learned to take, as they did, the fat with the lean +in soldiering, and not to care a brass farthing which it was. Still, I was +as yet so young at the game, that, though I was careful to swagger it out +and say nothing, I did wonder why the body from the south was so small. +</p> + +<p> +And I wonder as I write whether it was or was not the mistake of my life +merely to wonder then. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<h3>"WAR HAS ITS RISKS"</h3> + +<p> +I slept unsoundly and in snatches. Margaret was in the room beneath me, +"dreaming in Italian," thought I, in unhappy imitation of her dainty gibe +at her father. A problem was on my mind, and that was ever with me an +enemy to sleep. I meant being the best of soldiers, and this that worried +me was a military problem. To be short, I could not help asking myself, +"Were the dragoons from the south intended as a reinforcement to the horse +from the north?" And somehow I could not think they were. As the top-dog +spirit in me put it: "It was like sending Jack to reinforce me. <i>Quod +est absurdum</i>." +</p> + +<p> +Time the Explainer permits me to be frank. There was this other side to +my problem that I could not bring myself to be sure the Colonel's escape +had come merely by happy chance. He was no party to contriving it, of that +I never doubted, but it did look like a contrivance. We had been at the +"Rising Sun" for six hours or more. Stone, the nearest head-quarters of +Cumberland's forces, was only nine miles south of it, yet no attempt had +been made to follow the fugitive. No, thought I again, that's wrong. Weir +was sent on his track and actually found him. But this was as useless, so +it seemed, as sending twenty dragoons, hundreds being available, to +reinforce a thousand stout horse. There was no proportion between the ends +proposed and the means adopted. +</p> + +<p> +If the handful of dragoons were not a reinforcement, it was a pursuit of +us, and this posed another problem. Why had the pursuit been allowed to +flag all the afternoon and evening, to be taken up again far on in the +night? What fresh fact, if any, had determined it? I could think of none, +nor, on reflection, was one wanted, since both Master Freake and Jack had +last night witnessed to the worn-out state of Brocton's horses. +Consequently his dragoons would have been sent after the Colonel earlier +had they been fit. Their coming, when fit, proved their anxiety to retake +him. Therefore he was not allowed to escape, and the conclusion of my +argument hit its major premise clean in the teeth. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver, my boy," said I to myself, "say a bit of Virgil and go to sleep. +These matters are beyond you." +</p> + +<p> +I picked on a passage and started mumbling it to myself. It was a lucky +hit, for when I had in solemn whispers rolled off the great lines in the +sixth Aeneid which foretell the work and glory of Rome, I thought of my +Lord Ridgeley, thiever by cunning process of law of most of my ancient +patrimony, and his blackguard son, my Lord Brocton, lustfully hunting the +proud, gracious woman beneath, and I said grandiosely to myself, "Rome's +destiny is thine too, Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, and these betitled +scullions are the proud ones you shall war down." +</p> + +<p> +The notion was so soothing that I fell asleep again. +</p> + +<p> +I have leaped over uninteresting but by no means unimportant events. We +were staying the night at a wayside hostel, called the "Red Bull," +situated at the point where a cross-road cut the main road. We were still +in Staffordshire, a matter on which Margaret had laughingly placed the +utmost importance, though an urchin, standing by the rude signpost, could +have flung a pebble into Cheshire. Houseroom was of the narrowest, and I +was tucked away in the attics, in a room I had to crawl about in +two-double, walking upright being out of the question. It was the grown-up +daughter's room, and she had been bundled out to make place for me, a fact +I did not learn till it was beyond need of remedy. The lass had a good +pleasant woman to mother, but her father, the host, was an +ill-conditioned, surly runt, whose only good point was a still tongue. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret was in the room below, and her father next to her along a narrow +gangway. From my attic I got down to this gangway by means of a staircase +hardly to be told from a ladder. The gangway, just past the Colonel's +door, became a little landing whence three or four steps led down to a +larger landing, from which one could mount up to the other and +corresponding half of the house or descend to the entrance hall with which +the various rooms of the ground floor connected. +</p> + +<p> +I awoke again in a dim dull dawn. Tired of these bouts of wakefulness I +got off the bed--for I was lying full-dressed even to my boots--and crept +softly to the window. I would keep watch and ward for Margaret, as a true +knight oweth to do. Then, if my obscure misgivings were unfounded, I +should at any rate have done my duty. +</p> + +<p> +There had been a slight fall of snow, enough to cover the ground and +bring everything up into sharp relief. My window was a dormant-window, its +sill being about four feet from the eaves. I flung it open, careful not to +make a sound, pushed out head and shoulders, and took stock. +</p> + +<p> +I dipped my fingers in the snow and found there was near an inch of it. +The "Red Bull" stood back from the road, and on each side of the inn +proper, outhouses and stables jutted out to the wayside. Drawn up under a +hovel on the left was a huge wagon piled with sacks, probably of barley +bound for Leek, a town renowned for its ale. +</p> + +<p> +Without was silence and stillness, as of the grave, and it was nipping +cold, but my mind was happily busy, having so many delicious moments to +live over again. If by some unhappy chance I never saw her again and lived +to be a hundred, I should never tire of my memories. She had as many +facets as Mr. Pitt's diamond, as many tones as the great organ in +Lichfield Cathedral. To know her had enriched my life and opened my mind. +What Propertius had said of his Cynthia, I repeated to myself of my +Margaret, <i>Ingenium nobis ipsa puella est</i>. 'My' Margaret! Well, it +did her no harm for me to think it, and, after all, the sly, silly +babblings of my under-self could be shouted down by the stern voice of +common sense. +</p> + +<p> +Here, under the stress of a new force, my thoughts flew off at a tangent, +and I said to myself, "Bravo, Romeo! You shall find me a rare Juliet." +</p> + +<p> +I had, indeed, much ado to keep from laughing aloud, as my situation was +delicious, not to say delicate. For, on a sudden, noiselessly as the beat +of a bat's wing, two feet of ladder had shot up above the eaves, and even +now an ardent lover was hasting aloft, dreaming of lispings and kissings +to come. I mustn't frighten him too soon or too much or he'd drop off, but +as soon as he was fairly on the slope he should sip the sweetness of lips +of steel. So I crept back, got a pistol, and stood to the left of the +window. +</p> + +<p> +I waited till his body darkened the room and then took a furtive look at +him. It was no village lover climbing up at peep of dawn to greet his +lass. It was one of Brocton's dragoons, one of the five who had been at +the Hanyards. +</p> + +<p> +In a twink I shot him. Without a word, he slithered down the tiles, +leaving a mush of blood-red snow. His right leg slipped aslant between two +rungs of the ladder, and his body, checked in its fall, swung round and +dangled over the eaves. +</p> + +<p> +In the room was a large oaken clothes chest. I dragged it to the light, +tilted it on end, and jammed it into the gable of the window, which, +luckily, it fitted completely, and so blocked any further attack from the +roof. Snatching up my weapons, I tumbled down the ladder, only to hear the +heavy tramping of feet upstairs. Standing by Margaret's door, I waited +until the head and shoulders of the first man came in sight. He carried a +lantern, and its yellow rays lit up for me the ugly face of the sergeant +of dragoons. I fired my second pistol at him, crashing the lantern to +pieces. Down he went, whether hit or not I did not know. In the darkness I +heard the rush of a second man who came on so fearlessly and fast that he +was far into the passage before I met him with a fierce thrust of my +rapier. I thrilled with the zeal of old Smite-and-spare-not as, for the +first time, I felt the point of my rapier in a man's body, and drove it +home with a yell. Down he went too, with a gurgle of blood in his throat, +and Margaret, coming out of her room, stumbled over his body as she raced +after me along the passage. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel was at the stair-head before me, but there was, for the +moment, no work for him. The enemy had tumbled noisily downstairs into the +hall, and were collecting their scattered wits after their first rout. To +my regret, the raucous cursings of the sergeant showed that he had not +been killed and apparently not even hit. +</p> + +<p> +"God damn ye!" he yelled. "Ten of you driven back like sheep by a raw +youth. I'll settle with ye for it. Think I picked ye out of the stews and +stink-holes of London to stand this? There isn't one of ye with the guts +of a louse. I'll take the skin off the ribs of you for this, damn ye, and +most of your pimp's flesh along with it!" +</p> + +<p> +"What sort of guts was it brought yow tumblin' down so quick?" put in the +surly voice of the landlord. "Yow cudna 'a come any faster if yer blasted +yed 'ad been blown to bits instead of my lantern." +</p> + +<p> +Some of the men laughed at this, whereon the sergeant blasphemed enough +to make a devil from hell shiver. He cowed the dragoons, but the innkeeper +only growled, "A three-bob lantern blown to bits! Fork out three bob!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll have him if I have to blow the house to bits!" vociferated the +sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +"Fork out three bob!" repeated the host. +</p> + +<p> +Not a word had passed between us on the stair-head, and now, at the sound +of preparations for a fresh assault, the Colonel took each of us by the +arm and led us into his room. +</p> + +<p> +"The stair-head cannot be held against fire from the opposite landing," +he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +When inside, he locked the door, and I helped him pile the bed on end +behind it, heaping all the other furniture against the bed-frame to hold +the mattress and bedding up against the door. Margaret, at a brief word of +command, had meanwhile kept watch through the window. +</p> + +<p> +"That's a fair defence," he said contentedly. "What are these devils?" +</p> + +<p> +"Brocton's dragoons," said I. "I've settled two of them, one on the roof +and one in the passage." +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad! Ten of 'em would be long odds in the open; here we ought to +have the laugh of them. Load your pistols! Damme, it's a bit chilly. +Fortunately there's some warm work ahead." +</p> + +<p> +He stamped up and down the room, swishing his arms round his body, and +stopping every now and again to make some trifling change in our hurriedly +contrived barricade. Margaret stood by quietly at the window, and when I +had reloaded my pistols, I joined her there. +</p> + +<p> +The ladder had been shifted and now lay along in the snow. There, too, +lay the body of the dragoon I had shot, crumpled up in his death-agony. A +brood of owls were clucking and cluttering about under the hovel, and +there, too, leaning against the rear wheel of the wain, were a lumpish +wagoner and our surly host. The one was stolidly smoking, the other was +holding the battered lantern out at arm's length, and I could, as it were, +see him growling to the lout at his side, "'Ew's to fork out for this'n?" +A girl went towards them from the house, circling, with averted head, far +round the dead dragoon, bearing them from the kitchen a smoking jug of ale. +</p> + +<p> +"In England," said Margaret, "snow adds the charm of peace and purity to +the countryside. There's never, I should think, enough of it to give the +sense of utter desolation and deadness that it gives one in Russia." +</p> + +<p> +"It's so uncertain with us," was my reply. "I've known a whole winter +without a snowflake, and I've walked knee-deep in it in May." +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel stopped his marching and swishing and came to the window. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't bother, Madge," said he. "We'll pull through. Hallo, I didn't see +yon wagon last night." +</p> + +<p> +He took out his snuff-box and, hearing the noise of the enemy in the +corridor, walked with it in his hand across to the door. He tapped his box +with accustomed preciseness, but I, a step behind, having lingered for a +last look into Margaret's eyes, heard him mutter, "Damn the wagon!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ho, there within, in the King's name," shouted the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +"Ho, there without, in the devil's name," mimicked the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"I want speech with Colonel Waynflete," shouted the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +"Then, seeing that Colonel Waynflete cannot at the moment give himself +the pleasure of slitting your ruffian's throat, you may speak on," was the +reply. +</p> + +<p> +"You and your daughter may proceed on your way unharmed if you surrender. +It's only Wheatman the farmer, now with you, that I want." +</p> + +<p> +He could be heard all over the room to the last syllable, and Margaret +quickly left her place at the window and came towards us, but the Colonel +in a stern whisper ordered her back. "How dare you leave your post! Watch +that wagon!" She crimsoned and returned. +</p> + +<p> +"If Master Freake were here, Oliver, I think he would remark that there +was no market for colonels to-day," said her father to me with a wry +smile. He gave the lid of his snuff-box a final tap, opened it, and held +it out to me. In the sense of the term known to fashionable London, he was +not a good-looking man, but as he stood there, waiting gravely while I +took my pinch, he had the irresistible charm of the highest manliness. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you agree, Colonel?" bawled the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +"I do not," he shouted, and took his snuff with great relish. +</p> + +<p> +"By God," and now the sergeant roared like a wounded bull, "I'll have you +all in ten minutes." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Here, I say, you +Wheatman, do you agree?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," said I, "I'll come at once." And I should have gone, there +and then, but for the Colonel, who, as I laid a hand on the nearest piece +of our barricade, promptly said, "I've only one way with deserters," and +levelled a pistol at my head. +</p> + +<p> +"For Margaret's sake, sir," I pleaded in low tones. "Let me go!" She had +flown like a bird across to us, and so heard me. +</p> + +<p> +"I had hoped you thought better of me, Master Wheatman," she said coldly, +and went back to her watching. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant heard, or at least understood, what had been said in the +room. We heard him say, "You know your job. Fifty guineas for Wheatman, +dead or alive. Any man who touches the girl will be flogged bare to the +bones." Then we heard him walk off along the corridor. +</p> + +<p> +The dragoons without made no attempt on the door, and we joined Margaret +at the window. Hardly had we got there when half a dozen dragoons dashed +out of the porch and ran for the road. The Colonel flung the window open +and emptied both his pistols at them, but they zigzagged like hares and +the shots appeared to be thrown away. In the road they halted, formed a +line in open order, and levelled their carbines at the window. All three +of us moved aside, the Colonel tugging Margaret with him to the right +while I hopped to the left. +</p> + +<p> +"Take it easy, Oliver," he said very good-humouredly. "Until they think +of the wagon we're safe enough on this side. These walls would almost +stand up to a carronade." +</p> + +<p> +With a clash the first bullet came through the window and knocked a huge +splinter off a bedpost. There were six shots without, and six bullets +spattered in a small area opposite. +</p> + +<p> +"That's quite good shooting," said the Colonel. "Much better than I +expected from such poor stuff." +</p> + +<p> +I told him what Jack had said about the mixed quality of Brocton's +dragoons. These good shots, I explained, were picked men off the Ridgeley +estates, probably gamekeepers and bailiffs. +</p> + +<p> +"Very like," he said. "They're used to shooting but not to fighting. +Rabbits are more in their line." +</p> + +<p> +There was no stir in the passage, and I wondered what the job was these +men had in hand. The fusillade at the window was kept up unceasingly, +generally in single shots, sometimes in twos and threes. The barricade +took on a ragged appearance. I occupied my mind in thoughts of Margaret. +She was in the corner, beyond her father. +</p> + +<p> +The bullets had by now nearly cleared the window of glass, fragments of +which covered the floor of the room. Through the cracking and spluttering +we at last heard the noise of a wagon moving. The Colonel and I leaped up +and peered round the edge of the window. It was being pulled by two +horses, and was shifted till it was exactly opposite the window, and to my +surprise some twelve feet distant. The sacks made a firm platform level +with the window-sill. Flush with the window it would have made an +admirable means of attack, but why the space between? +</p> + +<p> +While the wagon was being put in position, there was a cessation of +firing. We saw the six dragoons from the road climbing on to the wagon, +while as many again joined them from the inn. The Colonel said, "Now's our +chance!" and fired carefully. One man, who was poised on the rear wheel, +fell into the road and hopped round to the back of the wagon holding his +right foot in his hand; another, already mounted, sprawled full length on +the sacks. +</p> + +<p> +"That's the way," he said, with much satisfaction, and stepped aside to +reload. "See if you can improve on it." +</p> + +<p> +By this, under orders from the sergeant, two or three dragoons were +creeping under the wagon to fire from behind the wheels. I dropped a man +standing at the horses' heads and then, in the nick of time and on second +thoughts, made sure of the mare and hit her in the neck. She squealed, +kicked, and plunged, and the other horse sharing her fears, they began to +drag the wagon off. The sergeant and two or three men leaped at them and +managed to quiet them, and then took them out of the traces to save +further trouble of the sort. The Colonel, meanwhile, having reloaded, +brought down another dragoon with one shot, and ripped open a sack with +another. It was barley. +</p> + +<p> +For perhaps a minute the window had been as safe as her corner, and +Margaret had been quietly watching the scene. Now, with seven or eight men +lying on the top of the sacks, with a stout row of them piled in front as +a bulwark, it was time for us to run to cover again. This time, of her own +accord, she came my side, and nestled beyond me in the nook between the +wall and my body. +</p> + +<p> +The men in the passage still made no sign. +</p> + +<p> +"Slids, Oliver," said the Colonel, "I can't see this ugly devil's game +yet, but, whatever it is, you came near to spoiling it. Damme, it was a +good idea to pepper the horse. Curse me! Where were my fifty years of +soldiering that I couldn't think of it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose it comes from my being--" +</p> + +<p> +The sweetest and whitest fingers in the world closed my mouth, and +Margaret, thinking that I was on the verge of backsliding, whispered in my +ear, "The readiest-witted gentleman in England." +</p> + +<p> +I tingled with the joy of her touch, and turned to her so that I might go +on into the coming fight with her last shade of emotion burnt into my +memory. A stream of lead poured through the window, but the spluttering of +bullets on the walls of the room had no more effect on me than the +pattering of hailstones. +</p> + +<p> +"May I finish my sentence, madam?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not as you intended, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't go back on old Bloggs' teaching, madam." +</p> + +<p> +She pouted and frowned, both at once, and the Colonel bawled through the +noise of the fusillade, "Being what?" +</p> + +<p> +"Fond of Virgil," roared I back again. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret laughed. Could a nightingale laugh, it would laugh as Margaret +laughed then. +</p> + +<p> +Before the music of it died away the sergeant showed his hand, and death +at its grizzliest grinned through the window. A great mass of damp, +smouldering straw, lifted on pikels, was thrust into the window-frame, +filling it completely, and thick wreaths of dense, foul smoke eddied into +the room, while through the straw the rain of bullets poured on, smashing +and splintering on walls and ceiling, door and barricade. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel slashed and poked at the straw with his rapier. Telling +Margaret to crouch on the floor, I crawled on my belly and fetched the +bed-staff, which stood in its accustomed corner of the chimney-piece. It +made a much more serviceable tool for the job, and I flung it across to +the Colonel, who seized it and worked it like a blackamoor till he was +almost the colour of one, and had, to judge by his voice and demeanour, +got almost beyond his German in his rage. Asking for Margaret's +handkerchief, I tied it loosely round her mouth, my heart near to bursting +as I looked into her calm and patient face. Then I lay down flat and +wormed out into the room and, after a hard struggle, wrenched off one of +the rods which carried the rings of the bed-curtains. I remember that, as +I lay there, writhing and struggling, I counted the bullets, eleven of +them, as they spattered about me. However, I got back to Margaret's side +untouched, and poked and thrust and slashed to make a hole near her face +between straw and window-frame. +</p> + +<p> +Our efforts were practically useless. The straw was cunningly fed from +below, and the pall of smoke was now so heavy and dense that the fringe of +it was settling down on Margaret's tower of yellow hair, and as I watched +the rate at which it was falling, I knew the end was coming. The Colonel +had worked with the energy of despair to tear down the vile enemy that was +killing us by inches, and now suddenly collapsed and fell like a log to +the floor. Margaret would have crawled to him, but I kept her by main +force against the wall while I wriggled out of my coat. +</p> + +<p> +"We have one chance left, Margaret," said I. "Your father is only +overcome by the smoke--see, there's no sign of a wound about him--and his +fall is a godsend. Give me your other handkerchief and lie down flat, face +to the floor and close to the window, and listen for my next instructions." +</p> + +<p> +She did so without a word. I wrapped my coat loosely about her head, and +before I could close it in the smoke cloud was settling down on her, even +as she lay. I was nearly done for, but she was safe for a few minutes. +Lying full length on the floor, under the window, I tied her handkerchief +to the end of the curtain-rod, thrust it through the straw, and waved it +about as vigorously as I could. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant's voice rang out. The firing ceased. The foul masses of +straw were removed. Then the scoundrel came forward and leered up at me. +</p> + +<p> +"Do your terms hold good?" I shouted. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Colonel Waynflete and his daughter will be left at liberty to go their +way, if I surrender?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Then in one minute I'll be with you," said I. Stepping inside the room, +I first of all pulled the Colonel to the window, tore loose the clothes +round his neck, and laid his head on the window-sill, in the good sweet +air. Then crawling to Margaret, I unwrapped the jacket, and said briefly, +"Force some of Kate's cordial down your father's throat. Goodbye!" +</p> + +<p> +I returned to the window, clambered out, hung at arm's length, and +dropped to the ground. Striding up to the sergeant, I said carelessly, +"Your turn this time, sergeant. To-day to thee, to-morrow to me--it's +neater in the Latin but you wouldn't understand it--and all Brocton's +dragoons shan't save your ugly neck." +</p> + +<p> +"Where the hell's your coat?" he demand fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +A cool question, indeed, after trying to suffocate me, but it was never +answered. The air was on a sudden filled with the weirdest row I had ever +heard. It was as if all the ghosts in Hades had suddenly piped up at their +shrillest and ghostliest. This was followed by a splutter of musketry, and +this again by loud yells. Looking round I saw a swarm of strange figures +sweep into the yard, half women as to their dress, for they wore little +petticoats that barely reached their knees, but matchless fighting men as +to their behaviour. On they came, with the pace of hounds, the courage of +bucks, and the force of the tide. +</p> + +<p> +It was the Highlanders. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant fled into and through the inn and, with the men from the +corridor, got clean away. Not a man else escaped. Half the dragoons on the +wagon were picked off like crows on a branch. The rest, and those in or +about the yard, got their lives and nothing else barring their breeches, +and that not for comeliness' sake but because they were useless. Every man +jack of them, in less than five minutes, looked like a half-plucked +cockerel, and their captors were wrangling like jackdaws about the plunder. +</p> + +<p> +I glanced at the window. To my relief, the Colonel was already sitting +up, pumping the sweet air into his befouled lungs, and Margaret smiled +joyously and waved her hand to me. I was waving victoriously back to her +when my attention was forcibly diverted by two Highlanders, who collared +me, intent on reducing me to a state of nature plus my breeches. There was +no time to explain, neither would they have understood my explanation. One +of them, a son of Anak for height and bulk, already had his hands to my +pockets. Him I hit, as hard-won experience had taught me, and he fell all +of a heap. His fellow was struck with amazement at seeing such a great +beef of a man put out of action so easily, and stood gaping over him for a +while. Recovering himself, he snatched a long knife out of his sock and +made for me murderously, but I had meantime fished out a guinea and now +held it out to him. He took it with the eager curiosity of a child, looked +at it wonderingly, made out what it was, and then ran leaping and frisking +up and down the yard, holding it high over his head, and shouting, "Ta +ginny, ta ginny, ta bonny, gowd ginny!" +</p> + +<p> +I was saved further trouble by the approach of one of the officers, or, +to speak with later knowledge, chiefs, of these wild warriors. He informed +me in excellent English that he had heard the firing, seen my parleying at +the window and my subsequent surrender, and desired to know the meaning of +it all. +</p> + +<p> +"The gentleman at the window," I explained, "is Colonel Waynflete, +travelling to join Prince Charles. The lady is his daughter, and I am +their servant, by name Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. These King's men, +belonging to my Lord Brocton's regiment of dragoons, attacked us; we +refused to surrender, and the rascally sergeant in command smoked us out. +I pray you, sir, to run the wagon up to the window that I may hand them +down, since the door is heavily barricaded." +</p> + +<p> +It was done immediately, and he and I ran up to the window together. +</p> + +<p> +"You young dog," said the Colonel. "You surrendered after all." +</p> + +<p> +"In strict accordance, sir, with military usage, I used my discretion as +commander of the party." +</p> + +<p> +"Slids!" His grey eyes had the old laugh lurking in them already. +"Commander of the party?" +</p> + +<p> +"There were only Mistress Margaret and I left," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And the peppermint cordial," put in Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +So in sheer wantonness of joy we sought relief in bantering one another. +Then I introduced the chieftain, who had stood there silent and graceful, +a fine figure of a man, finely and naturally posed, and mutual compliments +and thanks passed between us. Yet in that first minute, with Margaret and +the Colonel perched on the sill, and the Highlander and I standing on the +sacks of barley, I saw another thing happen, for the big things of life +come into it with the swiftness of light and the inevitability of death. A +chieftain proudly climbed the wagon; a bond-servant humbly handed Margaret +down. As was fair and courteous, and suitable to my real position, I let +him do it, and aided the Colonel, who was as yet somewhat shaky. After +seeing him safe down, I rushed up again and recovered our weapons and my +coat. Down once more, I was getting into my coat when Margaret, who was +talking to the Highlander, looked at me and said quietly, "Pray, Master +Wheatman, fetch me the domino from my room!" +</p> + +<p> +She said it simply and mistress-like, and of course I shot off to do her +bidding. I supposed, as I went, that it was the white snow all around that +had brought out the blue in her eyes so vividly. +</p> + +<p> +In the inn I found the host, the lantern still dangling from his finger, +notwithstanding his greater woe, and his pleasant, placid wife weeping +bitterly. Of the original twenty guineas of the Major's, I now had only +four left, and these I thrust into her hand as I passed, and told her to +be comforted. +</p> + +<p> +From my shooting the dragoon on the roof to my running upstairs for the +domino was in all not more than twenty minutes. I skipped over the man who +had fallen to my maiden sword. He was lying between the door of the +Colonel's room and that of Margaret's, and opposite one of the doors on +the other side of the passage. Darting into Margaret's room, I recovered +the domino. +</p> + +<p> +I was only a moment, but in that moment some one opened the door in the +passage against which the man lay and so brought him into the light, and I +could not help taking a look at him. +</p> + +<p> +My heart stopped with the horror of it; my whole being fell to pieces at +the agony of it. I remember running from it as from the gates of hell. I +remember reeling on the stairs. I remember a headlong fall. I remember no +more. +</p> + +<p> +It was Jack. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<h3>IN THE MOORLANDS</h3> + +<p> +I was in bed, there was no doubt about that, and a strange sort of bed +too, for it moved lightly and deliciously through the keen, open air like +the magic carpet of the Eastern tale. The bedposts at my feet were most +curiously carved into life-like images of warriors, so life-like, indeed, +that when the one on the right turned its shaggy head and spoke to the one +on the left, I was not shocked and scarcely surprised. Bed it was, +however, for mother's soft, smooth hand was on my cheek, and under the +balm of its touch I went off to sleep again. +</p> + +<p> +When my eyes opened again, the mists had cleared out of them and I was no +longer in the land of shadows. The carven bedposts were Highlanders; the +bed was a litter slung between four of them; the touch was hers. Somebody +spoke, the Highlanders came to a halt, and Margaret bent over me. Her face +was pale, grave, and anxious. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you better, Oliver?" she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +"As right as rain," I answered, pushing my new trouble behind me and +speaking stoutly because of the whiteness of her face. +</p> + +<p> +"Try to sleep again. You've had a bad fall, and there's an ugly cut in +your skull." +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed, I'll do no such thing," was my reply. "I don't want carrying +like a great baby, and I do want my breakfast. I'm as empty as a drum." +</p> + +<p> +"Can you stand?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sure of it, and also hop, skip, jump, and, above all, eat and drink with +any man alive. So, if you can make these men-women understand you, tell +them I'm very grateful, but I've had enough." +</p> + +<p> +The four tousled warriors were easily made to understand what I wanted, +and, stout and strong as they were, welcomed the end of their labours with +broad grins of satisfaction. They lowered me to the ground, and +immediately Margaret's hands were outstretched to help me to my feet. But +for the black death between us, it would have been new life indeed to see +the colour and sunshine creeping back to her face, and to hear her +whispered "Thank God!" +</p> + +<p> +My head was bumming and throbbing, but nothing to speak of. The gash was +behind and above my right ear, so I must have somersaulted down the +stairs. Margaret, as I learned later, had bathed and bandaged the wound, +and after my recovery of consciousness, it only gave me the happy trouble +of persuading Margaret that it gave me no trouble. +</p> + +<p> +I stamped and shook myself experimentally, took a few strides, and jumped +once or twice, Margaret watching me as curiously and carefully as a hen +watches her first chicken. +</p> + +<p> +"Do mind, Oliver!" she said. "It bled horribly, and you'll start it again." +</p> + +<p> +"I believe I needed a blood-letting," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Should you ever need another," she said crisply, "I hope you'll take it +in the usual way. How did it happen?" +</p> + +<p> +I had steeled myself for the inevitable question, and so answered +ruefully, "I must have tripped over the domino." +</p> + +<p> +"If it were not your mother's I would never wear it again," she said, +plucking the skirt of it into her hand and shaking it as if it were a +naughty child. "I thought you would never come round. For nearly an hour, +I should think, you looked stone-dead. Then you just opened your eyes, but +closed them before I dared speak, and lay so at least another hour. You +have given me such a fright, sir, that, now you are up and about again, +I'm beginning to feel I have a grievance against you." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sorry, madam," said I, very soberly. +</p> + +<p> +"Now you're laughing at me, sir," was the brisk reply. +</p> + +<p> +The word made me shiver. "Laughing"--over Jack's body! Margaret was in +her stride back to her mistress-ship again yet her eye changed instantly +with her mood when she saw me wince. Indeed, her mind flashed after my +mind like a hawk after a pigeon, but I dodged the trouble by looking +casually around to examine our whereabouts. +</p> + +<p> +We were following a track down a dip in an open moorland. Across the +shallow valley, and climbing the slope ahead of us, was another small body +of Highlanders, whom I took to be our scouting party. The sun was a dim +blob in the sky, and I saw from its position that our direction was +easterly. A joyous hail from behind made me spin round, whereupon I saw +the Colonel on Sultan and the young Chief on the sorrel turning the brow +behind us. It took them a few minutes to trot down to us, and before they +reached us four more wild warriors, our rear-guard apparently, came in +view. One of them was my son of Anak, astride Margaret's mare, and so +looking more gigantesque than ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Good morning, commander!" was the Colonel's greeting. "Slids! But I'm +glad to see you on your feet again. How's the head?" +</p> + +<p> +"It still bumbles a bit," said I, "but, truth to tell, I'm thinking more +of my breakfast than my head. I'm as empty as a drum." +</p> + +<p> +"It's a guid prognostick to feel hungry after sic a crack o' the head," +said the chieftain, smiling, and I thought with a twinge what a handsome, +wholesome sight he made. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm another drum," said the Colonel, "but deuce take me, Oliver, if I +know how we're to be filled. Madge would have us start off with you at +once, quite rightly too, and we'd neither bite nor sup before we took the +road." +</p> + +<p> +"And where were you taking me?" cried I. +</p> + +<p> +"To the doctor's," explained the Colonel. "There's one in a village +tucked away somewhere among these hills, and we've a lad on ahead to guide +us. Colonel Ker, who commands the Highlanders who rescued us, gave us our +friend here, Captain Maclachlan in the Prince's army, and a great +chieftain among his own people"--here the chief and I bowed to one another--"and +a dozen or so of his stout men as an escort. Two plaids were knitted +into a litter, a log of a man named Wheatman was bundled into it, and off +we started breakfastless, as I said before." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm very grateful to you, Mistress Margaret," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't be silly!" she answered very sharply. "It is no praise to tell me +I acted with common decency. And you weren't bundled in!" +</p> + +<p> +"I was not praising you, madam," I retorted, quick as ever to return like +for like. "I was thanking you, and I venture, with respect, to thank you +again." +</p> + +<p> +"Bother old Bloggs!" she said, suddenly all of a glow. +</p> + +<p> +"Bloggs? Who's Bloggs?" asked the Colonel, plainly enjoying the fun. +</p> + +<p> +"A rascally schoolmaster," she explained, "who flogged Oliver into a +precision of speech which I find most trying. But I must not miscall the +dear old man, for I stole his supper." +</p> + +<p> +"I wish he'd flogged him into precision on a staircase," said the +Colonel. "Damme, I am hungry." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm thinking there'll be a dub of water in the bottom yonder," said the +chieftain, "and Mistress Waynflete shall, if she will, take her first meal +Highland fashion." +</p> + +<p> +As I firmly declined to be carried another yard, the Highlanders unmade +my litter and resumed their plaids. In the trough of the valley we found a +streamlet of clear sweet water, and our repast consisted of a handful of +oatmeal, of which every clansman carried a supply in a linen bag, stirred +in a horn of water. It was not our Staffordshire notion of a breakfast, +but it was better than nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"Water-brose is a guid enough thing at a pinch," said Maclachlan to +Margaret, "guid enough to take a big loon like yon Donald to London and +back." +</p> + +<p> +Donald, it appeared, liked an addition to it, notwithstanding his chief's +praise of it, for he was taking a long pull from a leather bottle. This, +he explained, was usquebaugh, "ta watter of life," and the spice of poetry +in the description tempted the Colonel and me to try a dram. The Colonel +probably had had worse drink in his time, but even he made no comment. I +would almost as lief have had a blank charge fired into my mouth. +</p> + +<p> +While we all took our brose, and Maclachlan squired Margaret, the Colonel +told me how it had happened that the Highlanders chanced to come to our +rescue in the very nick of time. My own trouble is to get my tale straight +and simple, and I have no intention of making a hard task harder by trying +to interweave with the threads of my own story a poor history of these +important days. Mr. Volunteer Ray saw much more of these things than ever +I did, and the curious reader may turn to his fat, little, brown volume +for particulars. He was on the other side, and is too partial for a +perfect historiographer, but the account of things is there, and +reasonably well done too. But as what happened to Margaret, the Colonel, +and me, happened because of the campaign of the rival armies, I must boil +down what the Colonel told me if I am to make my tale clear. The Colonel, +to his credit, as I think, was so enthusiastic over all matters military +that he was rather long-winded in his account, and, in like fashion with +our housewifely Kate, it behoves me, so to speak, to make a jar of jelly +out of a pan of fruit, which is easier done with crab-apples than words. +</p> + +<p> +According to the Colonel, one of the master maxims of the military art +is, "Find out what the enemy thinks you are going to do, and then don't do +it." My Lord George Murray, the Prince's chief adviser in military +matters, had acted on this plan, and had given the go-by to the Duke of +Cumberland in grand style. At Macclesfield, the traveller to London had +choice of two high roads, one through Leek and Derby, and the other +through Congleton and Stafford. Leaving the Prince at Macclesfield with +the bulk of his men, Murray had pushed with a big force as far as +Congleton on the Stafford road, and the news of his advance had made +Cumberland withdraw all his northerly outposts to his head-quarters at +Stone. It was the last body of horse, routed out of Congleton, which we +had watched from the pines last night, racing in fear and disorder back to +the main of their army. Before daybreak Murray had sent on a force of +Highlanders under Colonel Ker towards Newcastle, to maintain the illusion +that the Stafford road was the one the Prince would take, and the vanguard +of this force, under Maclachlan, had saved us at the "Red Bull." Murray +himself was marching from Congleton across country to Leek, while the +Prince was marching thither also from Macclesfield. Murray would be there +first, and did not mean to wait for the Prince, but to push on as far as +possible towards Derby. We, too, were bound for Leek, where we should be +safe at last, and the end of the Colonel's explanation came, not because +he had said all he could have said, but because Donald was yelling to the +clansmen in preparation for our retaking the road. +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan accepted with alacrity an offer I made to go ahead and join +our advance. He ordered Donald to accompany me, giving as his reason: "For +he kens the English fine when the spirit of understanding is on him, and +ye'll easy get it on him by raxing him a crack in the wame, same as ye did +back yonder at the yill-house." +</p> + +<p> +The Highlander maintained the expression of a wooden doll throughout this +explanation, but, as I leaped hard after him across the brook, I overtook +a grin on his face that promised well for my future entertainment. +</p> + +<p> +"She pe recovert," he said. "Tat was a foine shump." +</p> + +<p> +Before I could reply Margaret was upon us. +</p> + +<p> +"The mare is quite frisky. She thinks me a mere <i>fardello</i> after +Donald. You're sure you're all right, Oliver?" +</p> + +<p> +"So near right, madam, that I beg you not to worry about me further," +said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Worry about you or worry you?" +</p> + +<p> +It hurt me to have her go so chilly all of a sudden, but I replied +frankly, "Both. It does indeed worry me to have you breakfastless in these +wilds through my doings." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she said, smiling down on me, "I ken fine the distinction between +water-brose and ham and eggs." +</p> + +<p> +"We are still in Staffordshire," I said cheerily, "and I'll go ahead and +see what I can do for you. Now, Donald, your best foot first!" +</p> + +<p> +He and I started ahead again, leaving her waiting for the rest of the +party, detained by some explanation on the Colonel's part of the military +aspects of the lie of the land. +</p> + +<p> +"There's a wheen foine leddies wi' ta Prince, Got bless him," said +Donald, "but when yon carline gets amangst 'em she'll pe like a muircock +amangst a thrang o' craws. She'll ding 'em a'." +</p> + +<p> +I expected that Donald would cherish ill will to me for my blow, but in +this I was wrong. So far from bearing me a grudge, he quite obviously +liked me for it. He had a fist, or nief, as he called it, nearly as big as +a leg of lamb, and almost the first thing he did when we were alone was to +hold it out, huge, dirty, and hairy, and put it alongside mine. He +scratched his rough head in his perplexity. +</p> + +<p> +"At Gladsmuir," he said, "'er nainsell did take ten Southron loons wi' +'er own hant, wi' nobody to help 'er, an' now one callant had dinged 'er +clean senseless wi' nothin' but a bairn's nief." +</p> + +<p> +"It wasn't clean fighting, Donald," said I. "Nothing but a sort of trick. +If you were to hit me fair and square I should snap in two like a carrot. +Tell me how you captured the ten men!" +</p> + +<p> +It was a longish story, at any rate as he told it, in quaint uncertain +English, intermixed with spates of his own Gaelic as he got excited over +the account of his prowess. One of them was an officer, and Donald +finished up by ferreting out of his meal-bag a magnificent gold watch, +lawful prize from his point of view, taken out of the officer's fob. +</p> + +<p> +"Ta tam t'ing was alife when I raxed 'er out of 'is poke," he said, "but +'er went dead sune after. She can 'ave 'er for a shillin'." +</p> + +<p> +He had no idea, nor could I make him understand, what it was and what +purpose it served. When it had run down for want of winding, to his simple +mind it had 'died.' He pushed it into my hand as indifferently as if it +had been a turnip, and I promised to pay him at Leek, for my pockets were +empty again and Margaret had the bag. +</p> + +<p> +"'Er nainsell wad rather 'ave a new pair o' progues," said he. "And what +for does anybody want a thing tat goes dead to tell ta time wi'? T'ere's +ta sun and ta stars, tat never go dead." +</p> + +<p> +As we walked rapidly we overtook our party soon after settling the matter +of the watch. The plough-lad who had been pressed as guide told me we were +near the road to Leek, and I let him return. We dropped down to a rough +road running our way, and a mile or so along it the roofs of a village +came in sight, and we halted till the main body came up. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, Oliver?" asked the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Breakfast, sir," said I. +</p> + +<p> +We marched into the village in military array. At our head strode Donald, +stout of heart and mighty of hand, with two pipers skirling away at his +heels, and the clansmen stepping it out bravely two abreast behind them. +Margaret came next, with me at her mare's head, and the Colonel and +Maclachlan brought up the rear. +</p> + +<p> +Our arrival created as much stir as an earthquake. The Highlanders, in +twos and threes, swarmed into the houses and ordered their unwilling hosts +to prepare them a meal. That it was war I was engaged in was, for the +first time, brought clearly home to me when I saw a fearsome Highlander, +with claymore, dirk, and loaded musket, posted at each end of the village. +A touch of ordinary human nature was, however, added, when the children, +fearless and happy in their ignorance, sidled up to the sentries and +stared at them as eagerly as if they had been war-painted Indians in a +travelling show. +</p> + +<p> +At first, we, the gentry for short, intended to seek accommodation in the +inn, poor and shabby though it looked, and Donald was ordered thither to +give instructions. The Colonel and the chieftain rode along the village to +observe how things were going, and this left Margaret and me together, and +spectators of a delightful little passage. For as Donald approached the +inn-door, the hostess, a sharp-nosed, vixenish woman, charged at him with +a very dirty besom and routed him completely. Truth to tell, Donald, who +had the sound, sweet nature of a child, had all the natural child's +indifference to dirt, but even he, long-suffering in such matters as he +was, had to stop to scrape the filth out of his eyes. This gave me the +chance of making peace, and I went up and explained that we should pay for +everything like ordinary travellers, good money for good fare. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh aye!" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"Jonnock!" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"You're a Stafford chap," she asserted. +</p> + +<p> +"I am," I agreed, "and I'll see you done well by." +</p> + +<p> +That settled her, and Donald was settled too, for his immediate wants +were satisfied by a large glass of brandy, and those more remote by a +bucket of water and a towel. +</p> + +<p> +"Gom!" said the virile little woman to me, "a wesh'll do him no harm. +I've got the biggest gorby of a mon," she went on, "between Mow Cop and +the Cocklow o' Leek. He's gone trapesing off, with our young Ted on his +shoulders, to see yow chaps march into Leek. There's about a dozen on 'em +gone, as brisk as if they were goin' to Stoke wakes. Fine fools they'll +lukken when they comes whom to-nate." +</p> + +<p> +As it happened, the "Dun Cow" was after all left to Donald and the +pipers. When I rejoined Margaret, she said, "Pray help me down, Oliver, +and we'll find the doctor, and have him dress your head. And, once out of +Donald's sight, I'll have the laugh that's nearly killing me to keep +under." +</p> + +<p> +I helped her down, and said, "Never mind doctor! That fine old church +yonder must be well worth looking into." +</p> + +<p> +"You will mind, sir," she flashed. She beckoned to Donald to take charge +of her mare, and then waylaid a passing girl, running from one sentry to +the other, and got her to show us the doctor's. +</p> + +<p> +So we started thither, and as we went she said, "Really, Oliver, you are +inconsiderate at times." +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense," said I. "It's my head." +</p> + +<p> +I was angry, not at her words, for I knew she did not mean them, but at +my inability to see what the fascinating jade was driving at. +</p> + +<p> +"Inconsiderate," she repeated firmly. "You'd be content to be introduced +to the Prince with a great swathe of dirty, blood-stained linen round your +head, regardless of how it reflected on me." +</p> + +<p> +"Reflected on you?" I echoed blankly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. We shouldn't match. I suppose dear old Bloggs was a bachelor?" +</p> + +<p> +"He was," said I, resigning the contest in despair. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor lived in a fair-sized stick-and-wattle house. He was a dapper +little man, with a cleverish, weakling cast of face, and was all on the +jump with the turn things had taken. He had just opened the door to us, +and was eyeing us uncertainly, when the Colonel and the Chief, returning +on foot from their inspection, having left their horses to be baited under +the watchful eye of a Highlander, stopped beside us. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you the doctor?" asked Margaret promptly, as if to forestall any +backing out on my part. If I could have joyed at anything, I should have +been overjoyed at her keenness in having me seen to. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said, but very softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Then please attend to this gentleman's wound," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"Is he a rebel?" he asked, so loudly that he might have been talking to +some one across the street, and instinctively I turned round There, sure +enough, was the parson, a pasty, pursy, mean-looking rogue, coming across +to see what was doing. +</p> + +<p> +"It's his head I want you to attend to," retorted Margaret, "not his +politics." +</p> + +<p> +"I doctor no rebels," said he, louder than ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Man," intervened Maclachlan, taking a pistol from his belt, and +emphasizing his words by gently tapping its barrel on the palm of his +hand, "if in ten minutes yon head isn't doctored to pairfection, it's your +own sel' will be beyond all the doctoring in England." +</p> + +<p> +"It's against all law," said the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm the law in this clachan to-day," said Maclachlan simply, still +tapping away with his pistol. Hearing the parson behind, he turned round +and added drily, "And the gospel." Hereupon the parson's face took on the +appearance of ill-made, ill-risen dough, and he turned and slipped off +with creeping, noiseless steps, like a cat. +</p> + +<p> +"Come in," whispered the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye're a man o' sense," said Maclachlan, and pushed his pistol back into +his belt. +</p> + +<p> +We all passed into the hall, and the doctor made the door carefully. +</p> + +<p> +"That damned pudding-face is a Whig," said he, "and so, of course, he's a +Justice. The Squire's a Whig, and he's a Justice. Here am I, well-reputed +in the faculty, and my wife coming of the Parker Putwells, one of the rare +old county stocks--none of your newfangled button-men and turnip-growers--and +I'm no Justice, because I'm a Church-and-King man of the old +school." +</p> + +<p> +"They went out of fashion with flaxen bobs," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Come on, my tousled macaroni!" said he. "There's nothing the matter with +the inside of your head at any rate, though the outside looks as if you'd +been arguing with the parish bull." +</p> + +<p> +"This is a verra fine house," said Maclachlan slowly and slily. +</p> + +<p> +"A mere dog-kennel," said the doctor, "considering she's a Parker Putwell." +</p> + +<p> +"And I'm thinking," said Maclachlan, very thoughtfully "that there'll be +some guid victuals in the pantry and, mayhap, a gay wheen bottles of right +liquor in the cellar." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh aye!" said he, taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'm thinking we'll e'en have breakfast here and try their merits. +And if it's a guid ane, I'll see you a Justice, whatever that may be, when +the King enjoys his own again. A Maclachlan has spoken it." +</p> + +<p> +The doctor went to an inner door and bawled, "Euphemia," and a +discontented wisp of a woman answered his call. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam and gentlemen, my wife, Mistress Snooks, born a Parker Putwell. +Mistress Snooks, like me, will bow to your will with pleasure, nor will +you mislike her table, I assure you. Now, my buck, let's see to this crack +in your head." +</p> + +<p> +He took me into his druggery, unwrapped the bandage, and examined my wound. +</p> + +<p> +"So ho!" said he, "a right good sock on the head. How did it happen?" +</p> + +<p> +I told him. +</p> + +<p> +"It's lucky for you, my buck," he said, "that you've got a baby's flesh +and a tup's skull, and some one had the sense to wash the cut clean as +soon as it was done." +</p> + +<p> +He set to work and made a good job of it, with a pledget of lint and +strips of plaister, and meanwhile I speculated as to why, in all these +bottles and jars and gallipots, neither nature nor art could contrive to +store a drug magistral for the blow that had riven my heart asunder. +</p> + +<p> +"That's better than two yards stripped off a wench's smock," he said at +last. "And a damnably fine smock too, you lucky rascal." +</p> + +<p> +He twittered a snatch of ribaldry that made my foot twitch in my boot. +Behind his back, I pocketed the priceless relic, dank and red with my +unworthy blood, and followed him back to the company. +</p> + +<p> +We made a longish stay, and fared well at his table. The doctor was a +good enough fellow in himself, but his wife, a salt, domineering woman, +lived in the light of the Parker Putwells, and he, poor devil, in the +shadow they cast. He was playing a double game too, for whenever the +red-elbowed serving-wench came into the room, he roared his dissent from +our lawlessness, and drank to the King with his glass over the +water-bottle as soon as she went out. Once when she brought us a rare dish +of calvered roach and, with wenchlike curiosity, lingered to pick up a +crumb or two of gossip, we had a snap of comedy, for, in his play-acting, +he would take none till Maclachlan, to keep up the farce, thrust a pistol +at his head and forced him. Whereupon the maid, in plucky fashion, threw a +cottage loaf at Maclachlan and took him fairly in the chest. The doctor, to +his credit, rose to protect her, but she braved it out. She would, she +averred, lend the thingamyjig a better petticoat than the one he'd got on. +"If he mun wear 'em," she added, "he mought wear 'em long enough to be +dacent." The doctor bustled her out at last, palpitating but triumphant. +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan had sprung up like a wild cat when the missile hit him. +Luckily he was flustered by the bouncing of the loaf on the table and off +again clean into Margaret's lap, or the ready trigger would surely have +been drawn in earnest. Then Margaret promptly took the edge off his anger +by saying with menacing sweetness, "I'm sorry the fun has gone further +than was desirable, but I will not have the girl blamed for what was in +her a brave deed, nor suffer any unpleasantness here on account of it. +Pray be seated." +</p> + +<p> +This ended the matter, and Maclachlan, with a wry smile, settled down +again to his fish. +</p> + +<p> +"It was a verra guid thing after a' said," he explained, "that it wasna +my mouth, for it was an unco' ding. I'm half hungry yet, and, to be sure, +breakfast and broillerie gang ill together." +</p> + +<p> +It was well said, and Margaret rewarded him with a smile and engaged him +in merry conversation. The Colonel, who had kept silent during the +trouble, now plied the doctor with questions about the surrounding country. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a poor biding-place for a Parker Putwell," he replied. "If there's +a drearier or lonelier stretch in England than the moorlands of Leek, I +would not care to see it. I go miles on end about it to visit my sick +folk, and mostly in a day's riding I see nobody but a stray shepherd, a +flash pedlar twanning his way across country with his gewgaws, and now and +then a weaver scouring the outlying cottages for yarn." +</p> + +<p> +When the meal was over Maclachlan insisted on paying for it, and bestowed +a shilling on the loaf-thrower. In theory, I found, the clansmen paid for +what they had, and Donald, being quartermaster to the party, was very busy +discharging his obligations up and down the village. The only cause of +dissatisfaction, but that not a slight one, was his Scots mode of +reckoning, in which a pint was near on half a gallon, while his shilling +was a beggarly penny. It always took a whirl of his dirk and a storm of +Gaelic to convince a cottager of his accuracy, but he got through at last, +and we reformed our order of march and started for Leek. +</p> + +<p> +This time I took the sorrel and Maclachlan marched beside Margaret on her +mare, for the Colonel wanted to give me an account, derived from the young +Chief, of the Prince's marchings and victories. The Highlanders being +astonishing foot-folk, and the Colonel being full of analogies and +digressions, the tower of Leek church came in sight before we had got the +Prince out of Edinburgh. +</p> + +<p> +A halt was called to discuss what was to be done. The Colonel dismounted, +and we followed his example. Margaret, I noticed, coloured slightly as +Maclachlan lifted her down. She had been as cool and unfluttered as a +marble image when she lay in my arms. Maclachlan was for marching on into +the town, and the doubt on the Colonel's face rather nettled him. +</p> + +<p> +"The considerable town of Manchester," he said, "was entered, and in part +seized, by one Scots sergeant and his drummer. Of a certainty near a score +of Maclachlans can intake yon little clachan." +</p> + +<p> +"Of a certainty," retorted the Colonel, "Margaret and one of your pipers +would be enough if we only had the townspeople to consider. There's no +game much easier than walking into a lion's den when the lion isn't there, +but it's pure foolishness to play the game till you're sure he's not at +home." +</p> + +<p> +"Lion! What's to do here wi' lions?" asked Maclachlan. +</p> + +<p> +"As I'm only a volunteer," answered the Colonel, "and not yet a man of +authority under the Prince's commission, which you are, I must ask your +leave to explain that our getting into Leek is a military problem. I grant +ye it's a little problem, since it wouldn't matter a pinch of snuff if we +marched in and every one of us was promptly hanged in the market-place. +But I undertook to make Oliver here a soldier, and, damme, what you want +to do isn't soldiership, and he'll only learn soldiership by mastering the +little problems first." +</p> + +<p> +"Like sums at school," said I, whereat Margaret laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +"Damme, you young rascal," stormed the Colonel, "if I'd got my commission +in my pocket, I'd put you under arrest for impertinence." +</p> + +<p> +"With great respect, sir," I answered, "I beg to say that I understand +that, at a council of war, the youngest officer gives his opinion first." +</p> + +<p> +"That's bowled you over, dad," said Margaret cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +"Damme, I'll bowl you off to Chester to-night," he retorted. "As sure as +a gun's a gun, you'll ruin Oliver. Stop grinning like an ape, sir, at that +jade's tricks, and listen to me." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm thinking, sir," said Maclachlan, "that in my present responsible +position I would greatly value your observations on the matter in hand." +</p> + +<p> +This was a clever remark so far as the Colonel was concerned, for he +would have talked to a viper about soldiering, but Maclachlan did not see, +and I did, the delicate little mouth that Margaret made. +</p> + +<p> +"My observations are simply these," said the Colonel: "We do not know +where Murray is, we do not know where the Prince is, and we do not know +where the Duke of Devonshire is. Any one of them may be in Leek." +</p> + +<p> +"And who may be the Duke of Devonshire?" asked the chief. "I've never +heard of him." +</p> + +<p> +"One of Geordie's dandiprats, who has got together a big force of militia +at Derby, and who, if he's any pluck, may have forestalled us all by +marching to Leek." +</p> + +<p> +"It's sair awkward," said Maclachlan, completely taken aback by the news. +</p> + +<p> +"It is so," said the Colonel, "and seeing that Oliver knows the rules and +procedures of courts martial, he shall deliver his judgment first." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, bowing low, "I would, with respect, suggest...." +</p> + +<p> +I got no further, for Donald, who was within a yard of my elbow, suddenly +bounded into the air and let off a most astonishing yell. Then he ran up +and down, like a foxhound after a lost scent, gabbling away in Gaelic. The +clansmen put their hands to their ears, and their ears to the wind, +listening intently, whereon Donald ceased his capering and chattering, and +called out to us, "Ta pipes! Ta Prunce! Ta pipes! Ta Prunce!" +</p> + +<p> +"Whist, ye auld fule," said the chief. "Ye're enough to deafen a clap of +thunder." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm telling it ye, ta pipes! ta Prunce!" he babbled, and then fell +still, and we all listened. +</p> + +<p> +The clansmen must have had ears like the bucks of their own mountains. I +could hear nothing but the soft sough of the breeze as it swept o'er the +rank grass of the moorlands, but they, Maclachlan as madly as any of them, +yelled their slogan, and the pipers filled their bags and blew fit to +burst. Like was calling to like across the wilds. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret glowed with enthusiasm, and the Colonel's eyes sparkled as he +handed me the box for the customary pinch--a courtesy, I found by later +experience, he conferred on very few. Indeed, in my new trouble, the +kindness and affection of the Colonel were becoming my best stand-by. +</p> + +<p> +"The great game's afoot, Oliver," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"And we'll play it to the end, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad," said he. +</p> + +<p> +"Donald, ye auld skaicher," said Maclachlan, "get your bairns agait. The +Maclachlans are going to be last, where they should be first, at the +intaking of a town, but the Prince, God bless him, will think me balm in +Gilead when he sees the reinforcements I bring." +</p> + +<p> +He was in high feather, and it interested me to watch in another the +tonic effect of Margaret's presence. I took no advantage of my capacity as +her body-servant, but leaped into my saddle and sat the sorrel like a +wooden image as he dodged about to get her horsed again and ready for the +road. He was, indeed, fit to serve a queen; the Highland fashion +marvellously well set off the clean, strong lines of his body, and the +single eagle's feather in his bonnet was the right sign to be waving over +him. The top-dog spirit was fast oozing out of me, and I sat there sourly +dusting the skirts of my poor country-tailor-made coat. +</p> + +<p> +The men were lined up on the rough moorland track, Donald at their head, +and the two pipers filling their bags and fingering their chanters behind +him. Maclachlan took Margaret's rein and began to lead her mare up the +slope of the path, but the Colonel called to him and diverted his +attention, and she stopped beside me. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver," she said, "you must let me have your coat for half an hour when +we are settled in the town, so that I can mend it. The holes in it make me +shiver every time I see them." +</p> + +<p> +"You are very kind, madam," said I, still dusting away, lest she should +see how my hand trembled. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver!" +</p> + +<p> +She forced me to look at her now, she spoke so peremptorily, and when the +blue eyes met mine they were so clear and intent that I feared she might +read my secret. +</p> + +<p> +"Smile!" +</p> + +<p> +Smile! I was to smile, was I? And when our Kate got the news at the +Hanyards, the smile would die out of her eyes for ever, for Jack, dear, +splendid Jack, was the weft that had been woven into the warp of her being. +</p> + +<p> +"I do not smile to order, madam," said I. +</p> + +<p> +She flicked the mare sharply and cantered up to the level, whither +Maclachlan raced after her with the speed of a hound. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<h3>BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE</h3> + +<p> +On our way into the town a thing happened which greatly shook me, being, +as I was, nothing in the world but a small farmer who had never seen the +wars. At a point where the rough road cut across a fold in the moorlands +we saw, half a mile to our right, a herd of cattle being lashed and +chivvied away to the remoter crannies among the hills by a throng of +sweating hinds and fanners. Had it happened our way, thought I broodily, +Joe and I would be there among the like, saving our own stock from the +marauders. Donald looked at them longingly, but our haste brooked no +delay, and besides, as he put it to me later, "It's a puir town, but, +after a' said, better than a wheen lousy cattle, for I've come by a fine +pair o' progues for a twa-three bawbees." +</p> + +<p> +Leek was as full of Highlanders as a wasp-cake is of maggots, and still +they were swarming in. Donald and the clansmen, indifferent to the crush +and hubbub, clave a way for us to the market-place, where, on the +Colonel's advice, they were dismissed to beat for billets. I then took +charge and led my companions across to the "Angel," where the throng was +so dense that they might have been giving the ale away. +</p> + +<p> +To get the horses stabled and baited was easy enough, for few of the +Highlanders rode south, although it was different going north again. Then, +leading my companions into the yard, I pushed into the inn and, by good +hap, lighted on the host, nearly out of his five wits with trying to +understand one word of English in a score of Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +"Hello, surry!" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Gom!" said he, "Staffordsheer at last." +</p> + +<p> +"I've heard a lot about Leek ale," said I. "Draw me a mug of it!" +</p> + +<p> +He brought it in a trice, and his face beamed with honest pride as he +said, holding it up between my eyes and the light, "What do you think o' +that for colour and nap? Damn my bones! None of your London rot-gut, +master, but honest Staffordsheer ale. Damme, you can fairly chew the malt +in it." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll bet you a guinea I've drunk better," said I, with the aleyard at my +lips. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd bet on my own ale," said he, "if the 'Angel' was full of devils let +alone petticoats. An', as between friends, y'r 'onour, win or lose, dunna +tell my missus you've 'ad better ale than ourn." +</p> + +<p> +I drank off his ale and said judiciously, "No, I haven't. That's the best +ale I've ever drunk," and handed him his guinea. +</p> + +<p> +"This'n's a bit of fat along with the lean," said he, spinning the guinea +up in the air, and, countrywise, spitting on it for luck. "Be there owt I +can do for y'r, sir? A gentleman as knows good ale when he drinks it +shudna be neglected for a lot of bare-legged savages that 'anna as much +judgment in beer as a sow 'as in draff." He leaned towards me and added in +a whisper, "I'm giving 'em bouse I wudna wesh my mare's fetlocks in, an' +they're neckin' it as if it was my rale October." +</p> + +<p> +"It was thundery in the summer," said I gravely, whereat he grinned +intelligently. +</p> + +<p> +"Y'r 'onour's up to snuff," said he. "Be there owt I can do for y'r, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Fetch the missus," said I, "and we'll talk." +</p> + +<p> +The hostess came. Her cheeks were brown as her own ale, and we talked, +nineteen to the dozen, for at least ten minutes. +</p> + +<p> +In the end I snapped up the best parlour overlooking the square for +Margaret's use, and bedrooms for each of us, paying a substantial +bargain-penny, for Mistress Waynflete had handed me back the bag of gold +Master Freake had given me. It would be necessary, I found, to oust two or +three bare-knees who had marked them for their own, but that could easily +be done, if, as was unlikely to be the case, they were sober enough at +night to crawl bedwards. These arrangements made, I pushed out and fetched +in Margaret, who was very grateful for what I had done, and went off to +her room, while we three men took our stand on the bricked causeway and +watched the doings in the square. +</p> + +<p> +We saw two or three battalions swing into the square from the +Macclesfield road, and the Colonel scanned them keenly, and, as I thought, +anxiously. Even to my untrained eye they were a mixed lot; the bulk of +them, to be sure, were stout, active, well-armed fighting men, who marched +in fair order, six or eight abreast; but there were numbers of oldish men +and boys among them, and many were but indifferently armed. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you number all told?" asked the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan answered in French. There was now no mistaking the gravity in +the Colonel's face, and he took snuff so thoughtfully that, for the first +time, he forgot me. +</p> + +<p> +"Excuse me, my dear lad," said he, recovering himself and thrusting out +the box towards me. "I hope there's a tobacco-man in the town who sells +right Strasburg. I'm running out, and rappee and Brazil are mere rubbish +to the cultivated palate." Then, looking around the square, he added +cheerily, "Quite a show for the townsmen!" +</p> + +<p> +Just in front of us, standing on the edge of the gutter, was a little, +ancient, distinguished dame, who had been watching the scene with quick, +avid eyes. She turned her fierce, scornful face up to the Colonel, and +said, "Yes, sir! You are right. It's a show, just a show, for the +townsmen. Yet I remember that, thirty years ago, the fathers of these +spiritless curs were as eager for the cause as is the eagle for his +quarry." +</p> + +<p> +"So, madam," said the Colonel very gently. +</p> + +<p> +"So, indeed," she returned. "But now, in their accursed grubbing for +money, they have rooted up every finer instinct, and they think only of +their tradings in silks with the Court ladies of London. Better a fine +gown sold to godless Caroline than a stout blow struck for God-anointed +James." +</p> + +<p> +She was beyond doubt a lady of quality, but fallen on poverty and now, +worst of all to her, on evil, faithless days. As she stopped, short of +breath with her sharp speaking, for she was very ancient, a mean lout of a +man edged himself up against her to get a better position for watching the +arrival of another body of clansmen. In a fierce access of rage she struck +him with the ebony stick on which she leaned and, almost hissing the words +at him, said, "Back to your buttons and your tassels, Thomas Ashley, and +get grace by thinking on your worthy father!" +</p> + +<p> +The man sidled off, and she continued, addressing the Colonel, "In the +fifteen his father was one of us, and suffered worthily." +</p> + +<p> +"For what, madam?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"For the cause," she replied. +</p> + +<p> +"For what particular service to the cause, madam?" I persisted. +</p> + +<p> +"He was zealous against the schismatics, sir," she said boldly. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," was my reply, "if the zeal of any one of us, townsman or +clansman, takes the same form this day, I shall certainly wring his neck. +We can fight for Charles without burning chapels." +</p> + +<p> +"Smite-and-spare-not would subscribe to that doctrine," said Margaret, +thrusting her way gently between the Colonel and me, and hooking a hand +round an arm of each of us. Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered +merrily, "<i>Push of pike and the Word</i>," and then looked so winningly +at me that the black shadow lifted, and I smiled back at her. +</p> + +<p> +And now the craning of necks at the angle where the great road curved +into the square, betokened something out of the ordinary, which turned out +to be the arrival of the Prince's life-guards. They were splendid, +well-mounted fellows, clothed in blue, faced with red, and scarlet +waistcoats heavy with gold. With them were the leading chiefs of the army, +and I heard Maclachlan reeling off their names and qualities in the +Colonel's ear. The guard, in number some sixscore, formed three sides of a +square and sat their horses, while one of the leaders proclaimed James and +took possession of the town. +</p> + +<p> +The cheers of the clansmen died away, only to be renewed more loudly and +proudly when another column swept into the square. Here, indeed, were men +apt for war and the battle, six abreast and a hundred files deep, with a +dozen pipers piping their mightiest, and a great standard flinging to the +breeze its proud <i>Tandem triumphans</i>. At their head strode a tall +young man, very comely and proper, with a frank, resolute, intelligent +face. He was dressed in the Highland fashion, with a blue bonnet topped +with a white rosette, a broad, blue ribbon over his right shoulder, and a +star upon his breast. The thronging thousands of clansmen burst into +thundering volleys of Gaelic yells, the waiting leaders bared their heads +and bowed, and I knew it was the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +After a short consultation with his intimate counsellors, Charles walked +almost directly towards us, making, as it seemed, for the fine house that +neighboured the "Angel." +</p> + +<p> +Even the townsmen, as he approached, raised their hats and cheered a +little, for he was on sight a man to be liked. When I hear sad tales of +him now, I think of him as I saw him then, and as I knew him in those few +stirring days when hope spurred him on, and the star of his destiny had +not yet climbed to its zenith. I come of a stock that sets no value on +princes, and I would not now lift a hand to snatch the Stuarts out of the +grave they have dug for themselves, but it is due to him, and, above all, +due to the chiefs and clansmen who followed and fought and died for him, +to say that the Bonnie Charlie I knew was every inch of him a man and a +prince to his finger-tips. +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan darted out and dropped on his knee before Charles, who, with +kindly impatience, seized the shoulder-knot of his plaid, haled him to his +feet, and plied him with a throng of questions. At some reply made by the +young chief, Charles turned his eyes on us, and, easily picking out the +Colonel, made for him with eager outstretched hands. For his part, the +Colonel stepped clear of the crowd on the causeway and stood at the +salute. He was, I thought, the most self-possessed person in the square, +and, indeed, was taking a pinch of snuff as soon as the formality was +over, while Margaret was red and white by turns, and I shook at the knees +as if expecting the Prince, in the manner of old Bloggs, to call me out +and thrash me soundly. +</p> + +<p> +The joy of the Prince at being joined by Colonel Waynflete was overflowing. +</p> + +<p> +"My Lord Murray has talked of you," I heard him say, "until I felt that +you were the one man in England that mattered, and now here you are. I +must tell Sheridan and all of them the good news." +</p> + +<p> +He turned off and called to a group of men near him, and several of them +came up and were made known to the Colonel. After more handshaking and +chatting, the eager Prince caught the Colonel by the arm and was for +dragging him off into the house destined for his lodging, but the Colonel +in his turn resisted and led him towards Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"My daughter, sir," he said, briefly and proudly. +</p> + +<p> +Off came the bonnet, and Charles bowed low and greeted her with very +marked courtesy. +</p> + +<p> +"Your prince, madam," he said, "but also your very humble servant. My +Court is a small one, and you are as important and welcome an addition to +it as is your distinguished father to my army. Swounds, Colonel," turning +to him with a merry smile, "I shall put a flea in his lordship's ear when +I see him at Derby. He never so much as mentioned your daughter. Man, one +might as well talk of stars and forget Venus!" +</p> + +<p> +"There is this excuse for him, sir," said the Colonel, very sedately, +"that on the only occasion on which my Lord Murray saw her, which was at +Turin in 1738, she was a whirlwind of arms and legs, long plaits and short +petticoats." +</p> + +<p> + +"Whereas now she--but I will reserve my opinion for the shelter of a fan +in a secluded corner at my next little Court." Then, very abruptly, fixing +his eyes on me, all of a swither, with my milk-stained cap in my hand, +"And whom have we here?" +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon, strangely enough, forgetting all courtliness, Margaret, the +Colonel, and Maclachlan fell over one another, so to speak, in telling the +Prince who I was. For a few seconds there was a gabble of introductions, +which made me feel hot and foolish. +</p> + +<p> +"One at a time," laughed the Prince, "and, of course, Mistress Waynflete +first." +</p> + +<p> +"Your Royal Highness," said Margaret, "this is my splendid friend and +gallant comrade, Oliver Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +"Enough, and more than enough, for a poor Prince Adventurer. Give me but +the leavings of your friendship and comradeship, Master Wheatman, and I +shall be beholden to you. And now, excuse us, madam, I have much to say to +your father." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, "I crave a little boon." +</p> + +<p> +"You begin well," he said, and added, after a little laugh, "With all my +heart." +</p> + +<p> +"Here at hand," said I, "is an ancient lady who has faced this rough +crowd and this bitter weather to see the Prince of her heart's desire. She +is brave as a lion for you, but too modest to do more than stand and pray +for you." +</p> + +<p> +And then he did one of those princely things that made rough men willing +to be cut down in swathes for him. He strode up to her and seized her +trembling hands. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, kneel not, dear lady," he said, putting an arm around her to +restrain her. +</p> + +<p> +"God bless your Royal Highness, and give you victory," she said brokenly. +"This is the hour I have prayed for daily these thirty years, and I thank +God for giving us a Prince so worthy of an earthly throne. The Lord shall +yet have mercy upon Jacob." +</p> + +<p> +"I thank God," said Charles, "for giving me a friend like you." +</p> + +<p> +His green plaid was looped up at his shoulder by a fine brooch, a +cairngorm set in a silver rim. This he took off, and pinned it on the +trembling woman's breast. +</p> + +<p> +"Wear this from me and for me," he said, speaking with great feeling. +Tears were standing in Margaret's eyes, there was a big lump in my throat, +and the Colonel was wasting precious Strasburg on the cobbles in the +square. When the Prince had pinned it there, he doffed his bonnet, bent +gracefully down, kissed her on the lips, and so left her. The standers-by +now cheered in earnest, and the ancient dame fell on her knees in prayer. +When she rose she plucked her robe around her, safeguarding her royal gift +in her withered hands, and was for timidly stealing away. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," said I, "I think you are alone." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir," she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +I offered her my arm, saying, "Allow me to escort you to your home?" +</p> + +<p> +The sharp eyes swept over me from my belt upward, and then, without a +word, she placed her arm in mine. I looked around to bow to Margaret +before starting, but she had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +We soon reached her house or, rather, cottage, which was in a street +behind the west side of the square. She was too tottery, too dazzled, too +afflated to speak on the way thither, but, at the door, when with a bow I +was intending to leave her, she bade me, in a madam-like way that cut off +debate or refusal, to enter with her. +</p> + +<p> +Plain to the casual eye, it was the home of decayed gentility. Here would +be refined eating of a dinner of herbs, solaced by talk of prideful +yesterdays. You saw it in the few things that still kept their grip on the +past: on the wall an old, black painting of a knight in ruff and quilted +doubtlet; a pounce-box and a hawking-glove on the chimney-piece, and above +it an oval scutcheon, with a golden eagle <i>naissant</i> from a <i>fesse +vert</i>. And hope was ever new-born here, but it was the hope centred in +the Virgin-Mother, posed in ivory over a wooden <i>prie-Dieu</i>. Nor did +I feel that I had shifted from my familiar moorings as I bowed my head +when she knelt in prayer. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," said I, when, with a happy face, she rose and turned and thanked +me, "it is in your power to do me a great kindness." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall, then, most surely do it." +</p> + +<p> +"I ask you to pray for the soul of John Dobson." +</p> + +<p> +"He was your friend?" she said gently. +</p> + +<p> +"My friend from boyhood, madam, and this morning I slew him." + +There was silence for a space. Then she said, "I will pray daily for the +soul of your friend, and for you that God will have mercy upon you and +give you peace. We women, who can only pray, do not, I fear, realize how, +for our men, the facts of life seem to make havoc of our creeds." +</p> + +<p> +"You are right, madam," I said sombrely. "For me to-day there is no God +in heaven." +</p> + +<p> +"Yet the morrow cometh," she replied confidently. "It has come for me. My +mind goes back to the time when the evil began that our glorious Prince is +now uprooting. In eighty-eight, when I was a maid of some twenty Junes, +not uncomely as I remember myself in my mirror, though not comparable with +your sweet and splendid mistress, we, then the ancient Hardys of +Hardywick, gave our all and lost our all for the cause. Yon scutcheon then +hung in a noble hall. I have looked at it with pride and, God be thanked, +without regret, during nearly sixty years of loneliness and poverty, but I +shall die rich and friended in the possession of this." +</p> + +<p> +She lifted the brooch to her lips and kissed it, and then, poor soul, +broke into a fit of coughing that racked her thin frame. A comely +serving-woman rushed in to her aid, and together we seated her near the +fire and wrapped a shawl around her. She seemed as one who slept with +half-shut eyes and dreamed. +</p> + +<p> +"She's of'n tuk like this'n," whispered her woman. "As lively as a lass +at a wedding for an hour maybe, and then dreamy and dead-like for hours at +a stretch. She's seventy-six come June, but I dunna think she'll live to +see it, and to be sure, God bless her, I shall be glad to see her broken +heart at rest." +</p> + +<p> +She put a smelling-bottle to her mistress's nose, and bathed the white +lips with eau-de-Luce. +</p> + +<p> +"I love her no end," she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +It was time to go. I dropped on my knee and kissed the fair, thin, +wrinkled hand. At the touch of my lips she spoke again: +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Harold, my beloved! The God of all good causes go with thee!" +</p> + +<p> +She was back in the long-ago with her lover at her knee, sending him off +to fight for the cause, and the ringless finger showed that he had never +come back. +</p> + +<p> +I stole out of the room with a mist in my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +When I got on the corner by the Prince's lodging, the first thing that +caught my eye was a calash drawn up in the middle of the square, with two +very elegant ladies in it, and a sprig of a blackamoor in green breeches +and yellow doublet at the horse's head. Margaret and Maclachlan were +standing by, and a merry rattle of conversation was going on between them +and the new-comers, though Margaret, her quick mind interested in the +vivid scenes around, kept turning her head to sweep the square with her +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +I had always felt and, for the most part I trust, observed the difference +between us, but it struck me now like a blow between the eyes. It was easy +to see that Margaret, for all her grey domino, was the mistress of the +gay, courtly group; easy, too, to catch the meaning of the eyes the +stranger ladies made at one another as they noted with amusement the young +Chief's infatuation. Well, he was there, and I was here, by right. I said +so to myself very savagely, that there should be no mistake about it, but +I must admit to a sour taste in my mouth as I pushed into a passing group +of clansmen, and then dodged behind a clump of ammunition wagons, and so +got into a side-alley unseen by those searching eyes. +</p> + +<p> +I came to an ale-house where I managed very well, for all that it had its +full share of clansmen stuffed into it, making a square meal of bread and +cheese and cold bacon, washed down with excellent ale. I made a point of +marking myself off as an Englishman by paying for my meal in the English +fashion. +</p> + +<p> +Sallying forth, and still avoiding the square, I roamed round the little +town, distracting my mind by forcing an interest in what was going on. The +Highlanders were happy, noisy, and full of confidence--not unjustly, for +so far they had played ninepins with the Royal troops. Everywhere they +were hard at it, sharpening dirks and claymores and furbishing muskets, +and such of their talk as I could understand was all of battle imminent. +In the churchyard I found a number of them practising shooting, with a +grand old cross as a target. They had chipped it somewhat already. I +cursed them roundly and then bargained it off at the price of a few +shillings. They turned their attention, with hopeful grins, to the brass +weathercock on the church tower, which I did not deem worth saving. +Moreover, it was a better mark, and good shooting was to be encouraged. +</p> + +<p> +I mooned around for an hour or so, very miserable. If my mind was idle a +moment, I saw Jack's body lying in the dim-lit passage and the calash in +the market-square. +</p> + +<p> +Tired of watching the Highlanders, I suddenly struck out for the "Angel," +intending to see how the horses were doing, a necessary task which I was +to blame for neglecting so long. I was going at a great pace along by the +shops on one side of the square and, in heedlessly passing a mercer's, had +to skip aside to avoid a finely dressed lady coming out of the door, with +the shopmaster, his nose nearly at his knees, bowing behind her. She was a +stranger to me and, moreover, I had my eye on the spot where the calash +had stood, so that, having clean avoided her, I was for striding on, but +she said sharply, "What do you mean by such conduct, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +I cannot remember any other occasion in my life when I have been so +completely taken aback. The elegant lady who stood there, a quizzing smile +on her face and a roguish twinkle in her eyes, was Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"I've waited and waited your honour's convenience till I could wait no +longer," she said. +</p> + +<p> +There was still the delightful mock anger in her voice, but the smile and +twinkle changed their meaning, so to speak. At least I, who delighted to +watch the varying shades of expression sweep over her exquisite face, +thought so as I stood there, twizzling my cap in my hand, and feeling an +utter fool. +</p> + +<p> +"You cannot expect a perfect match in this light," she went on, plainly +enjoying my discomfiture, "especially as I have had to carry the colour in +my eye." +</p> + +<p> +"No, madam," said I desperately, having to say something, but not having +the faintest idea of what she was driving at. +</p> + +<p> +"I disclaim all responsibility if it's a bungle. It will be your fault +entirely. Your arm, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +I offered her my arm, into which she slipped hers, jammed on my wretched +hat, and together we made for the "Angel." Of course we must meet +Maclachlan, to complete my misery I suppose, and he was keen on joining +us, but Margaret disposed of him in a way that reminded me of Kate shooing +a turkey off from her feeding chickens. Arrived at the "Angel," she led +the way to her parlour overlooking the square, dragged me hurriedly to the +window, and undid the packet. From it she took a patch of cloth and a hank +of silk thread. These she first dabbed on my sleeve, and then flourished +before my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite a good match after all! Do they suit me, Oliver?" +</p> + +<p> +She was dressed in a cinnamon-brown joseph, buttoned at the waist, and +showing, above and below, an under-dress of supple woven material, creamy +in colour and flowered in golden silk. A hat of a military cast, made of +some short-napped fur and set off with a great white panache, half hid and +half revealed her masses of yellow hair. +</p> + +<p> +"You look perfect," I said emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +"For my Prince," she replied softly. "Off with your coat, and let me show +you what sort of a housewife I am." +</p> + +<p> +I did as she bade me, and she doffed hat and joseph. She set me +comfortably before the fire in an elbow-chair, and handed me a new pipe +and a fresh paper of tobacco, and insisted on my smoking. Then, sitting +almost at my feet in a squat rush-bottomed chair, with quaint bow legs and +a back like a yard of ladder, she set to work on the holes Brocton's +rapier had made in my coat. +</p> + +<p> +I felt very cubbish as I sat feeding my soul on the picture she made as +she bent over her stitchery. A rare hobbledehoy I was in my villainous +coat, but what I looked like in my shirt-sleeves, good linen enough but +home-made and with never a shred of cuff or ruff to them, was past +imagining. +</p> + +<p> +She was quite silent too, and though talk of any sort would have been +distasteful to me then, for the picture was enough, I could not help +remembering how she had rattled on with Maclachlan. Here was another +cursed deficiency. My conversation was as country-like and +poverty-stricken as my clothes. I had always ruled the roast at our market +ordinaries, where I was looked upon as a bit of a fop and a miracle of +learning, and even my farming was solemnly respected because I was so hard +and ready a hitter. Here, in a parlour and with her, so beautiful that +even her beautiful dress scarce attracted a passing glance, I was dull and +ill at ease. The only thing I did, except to look at her, was to let my +pipe out and light it again, time after time. +</p> + +<p> +"The man in the shop told me," Margaret said, "that was the best tobacco +that comes from the Americas." +</p> + +<p> +"I should think it is," said I; "I've never smoked better." +</p> + +<p> +"It gives you a lot of trouble," she answered, and stayed her stitching +for a moment to look at me. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you get some right Strasburg for the Colonel?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"No. Is he running short?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And no marvel, either. He puts his snuff-box under his pillow, and when +I take him his chocolate of a morning, he takes a long, affectionate +pinch, and then says, 'Good morrow, sweetheart!'" +</p> + +<p> +I laughed, and then fell silent and wondered. While I had been loafing +about the town, she had been attending to my small whims and needs. +</p> + +<p> +And now, after a smart rap at the door, in flounced a sprightly, elegant +lady, very gay and very certain of herself. +</p> + +<p> +"What a charming, domestic picture!" she broke out. "I fear I intrude, +Margaret dear, but I'm going to stay. The girl is bringing up the tea, and +I'm positively dying for a cup and a sit-down. Of course this"--turning +gaily round on me, standing there like a great gawk, volubly cursing my +shirt-sleeves under my breath--"is the incomparable Oliver! Charmed to +meet you, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +I bowed, and Margaret said staidly, "Yes, my lady. This is Master Oliver +Wheatman of the Hanyards. Oliver, I have the privilege of introducing you +to the Lady Ogilvie." +</p> + +<p> +I bent in the middle again and gabbled something. It was suitable to the +occasion, I hope. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Ogilvie eyed me up and down carefully, much as I should overlook a +bullock I had a mind to buy. +</p> + +<p> +"When Davie left me at Macclesfield I told him I'd be guid, and I will be +guid, but I wish he hadn't asked me," she said. "Never mind! At Derby, +when we meet again, my promise will be lapsed, and I shall flirt with you, +sir, most furiously." +</p> + +<p> +"Really, my lady," I replied, "my knowledge of the art of flirtation is +merely rudimentary, but I always understood that it required two." +</p> + +<p> +"Naturally," she retorted, "that's its great charm." +</p> + +<p> +"I see my mistake now," said I, as if thoughtfully. Margaret sat with her +needle poised for a stitch, and waited. +</p> + +<p> +"You're learning already, you see! What is it?" said Lady Ogilvie. +</p> + +<p> +"One and a bit would suffice when your ladyship was the one," I said +boldly. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret laughed and resumed the swift play of her needle. +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed so, and I've struck sparks out of turnips in my time," she +replied, with much complaisance. "There's a glisk of intelligence about ye +now that was sair to seek when I came into the room. Men are like +diamonds, you must know, Margaret darling, all the better for being cut +and rubbed. I'll teach ye things, sir, at and after Derby, that is. Till +then I'm to be verra guid." +</p> + +<p> +The bringing in of the tea interrupted us. Over the cups, though Margaret +stuck to her work, there was gay talk about the main business of the +day--the supper and ball to come. +</p> + +<p> +"The men will simply rave over you, dear," she said to Margaret. "There's +only six of us, seven with you added, you see, for no town ladies wait on +His Royal Highness nowadays, and I'm danced off my feet. Maclachlan will +want you every time, and you'll be wise to have him as often as possible, +for he dances like a fairy. Davie's none so bad, but Maclachlan is just +grand. And the incomparable one," grimacing prettily at me, "will foot it +trippingly by the look of him." +</p> + +<p> +"I dance like a three-legged bear," said I, grim enough at having my +defects brought home to me. +</p> + +<p> +"Is it that you're telling me?" she replied. "Legs like yours and no +music in them! Well, well, I'll take you in hand, that's flat. At Derby, +of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Oliver, pray attend to the simpler matters that I deal with," said +Margaret, cutting off the last needle of silk. "I've done the best I can +for you. Come and appraise my work!" +</p> + +<p> +She held the coat up by the collar, and I stepped forward and examined it. +</p> + +<p> +"Marvellous!" said I. "It's as good as new." +</p> + +<p> +Her ladyship screeched with laughter. "Oh, you courtier!" she said. "I +never saw anything better done at the Tuileries. Look a foot higher, you +rogue!" +</p> + +<p> +Still even there the job was neatly and thoroughly done, and I thanked +Margaret for it heartily. With my coat on, I brightened up, and indeed I +had need to, for most of their talk was in and about a world of which I +knew nothing. Thanks to Margaret's hints and half-lights, I did well +enough. +</p> + +<p> +There came a gentle rap at the door and then, without further ceremony, +the Colonel bowed in a visitor. In the twilight at the door there was no +seeing who the new-comer was, but as he stepped forward the full light +revealed him. It was Prince Charles. +</p> + +<p> +"Stir not, ladies, on your allegiance!" he said gaily. I rose, bowed him +into my chair, and stood behind him. +</p> + +<p> +"Oddsfish, as my great uncle used to say, I've come to save your life, +Master Wheatman!" +</p> + +<p> +"You need not trouble, sir," said I, "to save what is freely yours to +throw away." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well said, sir," he answered, "and I shall not forget it." +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad, Oliver!" said the Colonel, dipping for his snuff-box. +</p> + +<p> +"Still, I must prove my point!" said Charles, smiling merrily. "My Court +consists of precisely seven ladies and an unlimited number of gentlemen, +the latter, for the most part, fiery chiefs who slash off men's heads as +if they were tops of thistles. Yet here are you, sir, keeping two of them +all to yourself. And such a two! Lady Ogilvie, whose charms are without +blemish--" +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, sir," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"May I pull his ears, Your Highness?" asked her ladyship tartly. +</p> + +<p> +"You may," said Charles, "unless he proves his point. A Prince must be +just, you know!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's fair," said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," retorted Lady Ogilvie. "He'll be right if he says I've an +eye like an ox and a mouth like a frog." +</p> + +<p> +"Save your ears, Master Wheatman!" said Charles, grinning at me. "What's +the blemish?" +</p> + +<p> +"Davie!" said I. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince rocked with laughter, and her ladyship enjoyed it quite as +fully. +</p> + +<p> +"It's the smartest hit I've heard since I left Paris," said the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, "be good enough to explain. Who is Davie?" +</p> + +<p> +"Her ladyship's husband," he replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Damme!" I ejaculated. "I thought he was only an ordinary Scotchman." +Whereat everybody laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"A most delightful interlude in a heavy day's work," said the Prince. "I +am unfeignedly vexed, ladies, at having to rob you of so agreeable a +cavalier, but I need Master Wheatman myself." +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +Half an hour later the Colonel stood with me at the town's end to give me +my final instructions. I was on Sultan, with urgent letters in my pocket +and important work on hand. +</p> + +<p> +We took a pinch of snuff together very solemnly. Then he snapped his box, +rubbed Sultan's velvet nose, shook my hand, said good-bye gruffly, and +strode back townward. I cantered on into the open road and the night. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<h3>MY NEW HAT</h3> + +<p> +Here was what I had dreamed of. Here was the dearest wish of my heart +gratified. I was twenty-three, and I had three-and-twenty's darling +equipment--a magnificent horse, a pair of unerring pistols, a fine rapier, +a pocket full of guineas, the memory of a woman's grace and beauty, and a +tough job in hand. The only material thing I really wanted was a new hat, +for yester morning's milk and subsequent bashings and bruisings had ruined +my old one. I had not bothered about it as long as it had bobbed alongside +the grey woollen hood of Margaret's domino, but, cheek by jowl with her +new hat, it had become an offence, and must be remedied. +</p> + +<p> +The black shadow flitted in and out of my mind. I was clean and clear of +all blood-guiltiness. I had struck for Margaret as he would have struck +for Kate. Fate had been too strong for us, but whatever penance life +should lay upon me should be paid to the uttermost farthing. I had this +comfort that, could Jack ride up to me now, there would be no change in +him. There would be for me the old hearty hand-grip and the boyish, +affectionate smile, just as when he had run in to me on the town-hall +steps. +</p> + +<p> +I had been commissioned by the Prince to do three things: first, to +deliver a dispatch to my Lord George Murray, wherever I should find him, +which would probably be at Ashbourne, twelve miles ahead along a good +road; second, to carry a letter to Sir James Blount at his house called +Ellerton Grange, somewhere near Uttoxeter; third, to make a wide circuit +west and south of Derby, picking up all the information I could as to the +feeling of the populace and the disposition of the enemy's forces, and to +report on this to the Prince in person at Derby at six o'clock the +following night. On this third commission the Prince and Colonel Waynflete +had laid great stress. An independent and trustworthy report was, it +appeared, of the utmost importance. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, as a dependent commission arising out of the first of the duties +imposed on me by the Prince, I bore a letter to my Lord Ogilvie from her +ladyship. She had summoned me willy-nilly to her room privily. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell Davie yonder that I'm very well and very, very guid," she said, as +she handed me the letter. +</p> + +<p> +"With infinite pleasure, my lady," I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"It will be true, ye ken," she asserted, as if there was a corner for +dubiety in her own mind regarding the matter. +</p> + +<p> +"Solemnly and obviously true, my lady," I agreed. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, thou incomparable Oliver, I wish you were a lass," she said, lifting +her merry, girlish face level with mine, and putting a hand on each of my +shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, my lady?" I said, straightening at her touch. +</p> + +<p> +"Then you could give Davie this as well!" which said, she pecked lightly +at me with her sweet lips and kissed me. +</p> + +<p> +It had flustered me greatly, but she only laughed ringingly and +delightsomely as I backed out of the room. And when, door-knob in hand, I +made my last bow, she had wagged her finger at me for emphasis and said, +"Dinna forget to tell Davie I'm very guid." +</p> + +<p> +Good she was, as beaten gold, and she kept her spirits up to this high +pitch to the very end. You can read in Mr. Volunteer Ray's history of the +whole affair of the 'Forty-five' how, after Culloden, she was taken +prisoner while dressing for the ball which was to crown the expected +victory. +</p> + +<p> +I smiled a young man's smile as I thought of it. Experience was writing +some items on the credit side of my new account with life. I had met a +winsome lady of title and she had kissed me. Margaret, behind my back and +to a third party, had called me an "incomparable" something. What, I knew +not,--"servant" probably, but I cared not what. +</p> + +<p> +Mile after mile passed without incident of any kind until, at a second's +notice, I rode into a ring of muskets which closed round me out of vacancy +as if by magic. It was the outermost picket of the army at Ashbourne. I +gave the parole, "Henry and Newcastle," and demanded a guide to my Lord +George Murray's quarters. There came a Gaelic grunt out of the gloom; men +and muskets disappeared, with the exception of a single clansman, who +seized Sultan's bridle and led me into the town. +</p> + +<p> +The General was quartered at the "Swan with Two Necks," a very +respectable hostelry, where my first care was to have a cloth thrown over +Sultan, and to order for him a bucket of warm small beer with three or +four handfuls of oatmeal stirred into it. While this was adoing, and I was +awaiting a summons to his lordship's presence, I took a nip of brandy in +the public room of the inn, and over it amused myself by reading a crude +fly-sheet nailed on the wall, offering a reward of fifty guineas to anyone +giving information leading to the arrest of one Samuel Nixon, commonly +called 'Swift Nicks,' a notorious highwayman, six feet high, of very +genteel appearance, well-spoken, but a cruel, bloody ruffian with it all. +The Highlander interrupted my reading by beckoning me to follow him. +Upstairs we went, and he ushered me into a room where were two gentlemen +seated on opposite sides of a table on which were a small map and two +large glasses containing a yellowish liquid. +</p> + +<p> +The younger of them was of much the same general appearance as +Maclachlan, though by the look of him a simpler and sweeter man. The +other, a middle-aged, domineering man with a powerful face, looked angrily +at me as I handed him my dispatch. +</p> + +<p> +He read it impatiently, threw it down beside the map, and said, "They're +coming on to-night, Davie." Then, curtly to me, "Your name, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Wheatman of the Hanyards." +</p> + +<p> +"Hanyards? Humph! Are you an Irishman?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, my lord. Not even a Scotchman!" +</p> + +<p> +He glared at me, but his companion laughed, and said, "That's one under +your short ribs, Geordie!" +</p> + +<p> +"Damn the Irish!" cried Murray. "They're the ruination of the whole +business, Davie, and ye know it." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course they are," he replied, "but that's no reason for telling it to +an English loon who thinks less of a Scotchman than he does of a pickelt +herring." +</p> + +<p> +"That may be, my lord," said I to him, "but I think so well of one +Scottish lady that I'm proud to be her humble courier." And I handed him +his letter. +</p> + +<p> +"Man! man!" he said ecstatically, as he ripped it open, "ye're welcome as +sunshine in December. It's from Ishbel. God bless her pretty face!" +</p> + +<p> +He read the letter eagerly and then thrust it into his bosom. +</p> + +<p> +"I am, further," I went on, "entrusted with a message from her ladyship." +</p> + +<p> +"God bless her! Out with it, man, out with it!" +</p> + +<p> +"I was to inform you that she was very, very good," said I, soberly as a +judge passing sentence. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you think of that, Geordie Murray? Very, very guid! Eh, man, +isn't she a monkey? God bless her!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll send the whole lot of 'em packing off back to Edinburgh," said +Murray. "Women are a nuisance on a campaign. Your Ishbel, be hanged to +her, wants a carriage all her own and another for her fineries." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye ken a lot about soldiering, Geordie," retorted Ogilvie, "no man more, +but ye ken less about soldiers than a lad of ten. At Gladsmuir I said to +MacIntosh, 'Let's get the damn thing over, Sandy, and be back to breakfast +wi' the leddies!' And we did." +</p> + +<p> +"You did so," acknowledged Murray. "Now, Davie, take our courier out and +feed him. I thank you, sir! You have ridden speedily. Your pace is faster +than your tongue." +</p> + +<p> +"My lord," said I, "although I am doing his Royal Highness such poor +service as lies in me, I am not yet duly acting under his commission and +authority." +</p> + +<p> +"What of it?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Hence I am not an officer under your command, my lord!" +</p> + +<p> +"Excellent logic! And the therefore, my beef-eating friend, is....?" +</p> + +<p> +"That I would as lief knock your head off as look at you!" +</p> + +<p> +"When you are an officer," cried he, "by gad, sir, I'll teach ye the +manners of an officer. Till then, my birkie," rising and holding out his +hand, "guid luck to ye!" +</p> + +<p> +We shook hands heartily and so parted. +</p> + +<p> +"He's a grand man is Geordie Murray," said Ogilvie, as he led me to +another room across the landing. "Just a wee bit birsy, maybe, but these +damned Irish have got his kail through the reek. They're o'ermuch on his +spirits of late." +</p> + +<p> +All his other talk was of his lady, though he looked well enough after +me, and I made a good meal of the better half of a cold chicken, a cottage +loaf, and a tankard of poor ale. Ashbourne is noted, say the wise in such +matters, for the best malt and the poorest ale in England. +</p> + +<p> +I am overmuch English, as is often the case with us who live in the very +heart of England. The famous Mr. Johnson is a shire-fellow of mine, and +very proud I am of it, and reckon it among the greatest events of my life +that he has bullyragged me soundly for differing from him, and being +right, about a line of Virgil he had misquoted in my hearing. Like Mr. +Johnson, I love men and loathe dancing-masters, and these Scotsmen were +men indeed, my Lord Ogilvie, as I came to know later, one of the choicest. +He was a spare-built man, in years thirty or thereabouts, with a face all +lines and angles, and dotted with pock-marks. For a lord, his purse was +very bare of guineas, and nature had made up for it by giving him a belly +full of pride. For him, the Highland line had been the boundary of the +known world, so that his mind was a chequer-work of curious ignorance and +knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +From the first I liked him for his joy in his dainty lady. She was the +daughter of a cadet of a distant branch of the famous Bobbing John's +family, and had spent nearly all her life in France till, on a chance +visit to Scotland, she had been snapped up by Ogilvie. They were a +strangely matched pair, she from the gay <i>salons</i> of Paris, he from +the misty mountains of the north; but mutual love had assorted them to +admiration, for the heart of each was sound as a bell. +</p> + +<p> +Between bites I answered questions as to how she had looked, what she'd +said, done, and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +"Was she wearing her brown riding-coat with the pretty wee shoulder +capes?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said I, becoming more interested. +</p> + +<p> +"Or her creamy dress with the gold flowers all over it?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said I again, smiling at my discoveries. +</p> + +<p> +"She's keeping 'em for London," he explained. "Gosh, man! She will look +divine in 'em." +</p> + +<p> +"She won't," said I, clipping away at the sweet bits still hanging on the +carcass of my chicken. +</p> + +<p> +"It'll take your logic all its time to keep six inches o' cauld steel out +of your brisket," he said very fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +"Never had better chicken in my life," said I, watching him out of one +eye--quite enough for any Scotsman. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn the chicken!" he roared. "Why won't she?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because she's given 'em away," I explained in my airiest tones. +</p> + +<p> +"The blue blazes of hell!" gasped his lordship. "Given 'em away, and they +cost me twenty pounds English! Given 'em away!" he whined, utterly lost +for words, "given 'em away! The callack's clean dawpit. Twenty pounds good +English money!" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing like enough!" said I. "You'll be sorry it wasn't two hundred." +</p> + +<p> +Two hundred pounds English was, however, something too stupendous for his +mind to grasp, and the gibe had no effect on him. While I finished my ale +he chuntered away in his own Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll mak' it up in London," he said at length, "but it'll be the deil's +own job." +</p> + +<p> +"It will indeed," I agreed, and drained my tankard dry. +</p> + +<p> +A look at my watch told me it was time to set about my second commission. +Sultan was brought from the stable, fit as a fiddle and eager to be going. +I examined my pistols, ran the tuck up and down in its scabbard, leaped on +Sultan, and asked for the Uttoxeter road. +</p> + +<p> +My Lord Ogilvie parted from me on the fairest terms, bringing me with his +own hands a great stirrup-cup, or "dock-an-torus," as he called it. +</p> + +<p> +"Man," said he, "I'm right glad to be acquent wi' ye. I was thinking I'd +gang all the way to London without coming across a man worth fighting, +much less friending, but I was in the wrang of it. Here's to ye!" +</p> + +<p> +"My lord," said I, "you match your sweet lady. Both of you have been +wondrous kind to a hard-hit man." +</p> + +<p> +We gripped hands, saluted, and parted. +</p> + +<p> +It was all but pitch-dark, and the moon was not due to rise for more than +an hour, but the sky was clear and the stars were out in masses for +company and guidance. Ellerton Grange was near Uttoxeter, and Uttoxeter +was a sizeable townlet just inside my own county, and some fifteen miles +from Ashbourne. The road was the usual cross-road, all of it bad and most +of it vile. I left the going to Sultan, who did the best he could, like +the gallant and experienced creature he was. There was nothing for me to +do except to keep a good look out and the north star just behind my right +hand. +</p> + +<p> +My mind was busy going over all the memories of the last three days. I +tried hard, but in vain, to skip the black part, the thought of which made +me flinch as if the branding-iron was white-hot against my cheek. Mentally +I saw double--Jack's red blood with one eye and Margaret's amber hair with +the other. As I rode I fought memory with memory, mingling gall and honey, +now mumbling broken prayers and now singing snatches of country +love-songs, and so got on as best I could. In the journey of life a man +pays for what he calls for. Life had given me what I wanted, and the price +thereof had been death. +</p> + +<p> +Not only was the night dark but the countryside was empty. I rode past +dim outlines of houses and through vague, dreamlike villages without +seeing a soul or hearing a sound. Once I saw a light ahead by the +roadside, but out it went as the rattle of Sultan's hoofs told of my +coming. It was no wonder, for these poor folk were living between two +armies and wanted neither, friend nor foe. For them it was only a choice +between the upper and the nether millstone. At last I came to a wayside +ale-house where lights were showing. I rode up, dismounted, ran the reins +over the catch of the shutter, and went in. +</p> + +<p> +In the low, untidy room I found a man and a woman, bent over a miserable +fire, with their backs to a table whereon were set out mug and platter and +other things useful for a meal. They rose to greet me, and their faces +told me that they were expecting some one and supposed that I was he. When +they saw their mistake, the woman stepped smartly in front of the man and +said, "Lord, sir, how you frighted us! What can I get for your worship?" +</p> + +<p> +"A mug of good mulled ale," said I. "Give me good mulled ale and a little +information, and you shall have a crown for your pains." +</p> + +<p> +I spoke pleasantly, having no need, as a mere passer-by, to do otherwise, +but if I had been obliged to have dealings with them, I should have begun +by distrusting them outright. The man was of the common sort of ale-house +keeper, ugly, beery, and stupid, and old enough to be the father of his +wife, as I call her on account of the wedding ring on her finger. She was, +for the place and post, a complete surprise, being a jaunty, townish, +garish woman, dressed in decayed finery. He would have slit my throat for +a groat, she for a grudge. They looked that sort. +</p> + +<p> +The woman went into another room, beyond the little bar where the +drinkables were stored, to get the spices for the mulling, and the man +shuffled grumpily after her. Hanging on the wall behind the bar was a +fly-sheet, the very same I had read in the "Swan with Two Necks" at +Ashbourne. +</p> + +<p> +"Swift Nicks" was a much-wanted gentleman, and evidently a tobie-man with +a wide range of activities. Out of mere vacancy of mind I walked near to +read the fly-sheet again, and, by a curious chance, among the drone of +words from the other room, the only one my quick ear could pick out +distinctly was "Nicks." +</p> + +<p> +This made me wary, and when the woman came out and busied herself at the +fire, and called me to see what a prime mull she was brewing, I stood over +her, to all intent watching the process but ready for anything. And not +without need, for her dirty husband crept softly out after her, thinking +to catch me unawares. I flashed at him like a jack at a minnow, wrenched a +wretched old blunderbuss out of his hands, and with the butt of it knocked +him sprawling back into the other room. +</p> + +<p> +The prime muller merely cackled with false laughter and went on with her +mulling. I fetched him in by the scruff of the neck, stood him up against +the bar, and said, "I think you're in for the soundest thrashing you've +ever had in your life." +</p> + +<p> +"Sarves yer right, sawney," said the woman. "Plase let him off, sir. He +thought yow was Swift Nicks." +</p> + +<p> +"Yow bitch!" he growled. "Yow set me on!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yow'm a ligger!" she retorted. "I towd yow the gen'leman was nowt like +Swift Nicks." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know that?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"By the print," was the quick reply. "It tells yow all about him." +</p> + +<p> +I fetched the fly-sheet down, held it out to her, and said sharply, "Read +it to me!" +</p> + +<p> +I thought this would clean beat her, but she said, simply enough, "I +canna rade it mysen, but I've heard it read lots o' times." +</p> + +<p> +"Have you heard it read?" I asked the man. +</p> + +<p> +"Lots o' times," he echoed surlily, and I saw the woman's fingers twitch +as if she longed to furrow his ugly face with her nails. +</p> + +<p> +"Then why didn't you know?" +</p> + +<p> +I spoke to him but turned sharp on the woman, and saw hell in her face. +She was almost too quick for me, and answered fawningly, "The thought o' +the money made a fool on 'im, sir. Plase let him off. I've mulled th' ale +prime for her honour." +</p> + +<p> +This was true and I enjoyed it greatly. I sent the man out to rub Sultan +down while she prepared for him under my eyes a warm drench of ale and +meal. +</p> + +<p> +"Be y'r honour going far?" she asked. +</p> + +<p> +"That depends how far it is to Ellerton Grange. Do you know it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh aye, y'r honour. Sir James Blount lives there. It's three miles out'n +Tutcheter on the Burton road." +</p> + +<p> +"Is it a straight road to Uttoxeter?" +</p> + +<p> +"Half a mile on yow'll come to a fork. Tek the road on the right and just +ride after y'r nose. Fetch the drench, Bob!" +</p> + +<p> +She carried it off well, but I felt there was a deep strain of roguery in +her. Still, willing to part on a lighter note, I gave her the crown, +saying, "You deserve a better trade." +</p> + +<p> +"It's none so bad," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"And a better husband." +</p> + +<p> +"Oddones! D'ye think...." +</p> + +<p> +She stopped abruptly, plainly caught out for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +A minute later I was off again. At the fork Sultan made for the left, and +I had to pull him sharply to the right. The road got steadily worse, but +Orion was clear in view ahead of me, dropping down behind Uttoxeter, and I +pushed on. If a man is to turn back because of a bad road, he'll not +travel far in the Shires. Soon, however, there was no road at all, and I +was plump in open country. Sultan stopped and sniffed, and then turned his +head round as if to tell me, what I already felt was the truth, that I had +been an ass for not leaving it to him. +</p> + +<p> +"So ho! Sultan!" said I, patting his warm neck. "I deserve all you say, +my beauty! I've put you in for a nice job." +</p> + +<p> +The right road must lie somewhere to my left. I turned him that way and +he walked on suspicious and sniffing. Fortunately the moon had risen, and +the Jezebel's lie would only cost me a trifling delay. She would have lied +with a purpose, and I puzzled myself in trying to reason it out. In a few +minutes we came to the side of a spinney with a low wall of rough stones +cutting it off from the field. I was intently looking ahead, when on a +sudden Sultan swerved so powerfully that I rocked in the saddle. I +wouldn't have touched him with the spur, short of utter necessity, for a +fistful of guineas, and I soothed him, and then turned to look for what +had upset him. +</p> + +<p> +To be candid I swerved myself. Most of us in these days are pleased to +laugh at superstitions, provided we are in good company round a roaring +fire. I was here alone in a lonely field, at nine of the clock on a winter +night, and there, flittering and gliding through the spinney was a +something in white. Virgil believed in ghosts, and so did Joe Braggs, and +I, by oft reading the one and listening to the other, had preserved an +open mind. Apparently Sultan had his doubts, for he shivered and whinnied. +</p> + +<p> +I pulled his head round away from the ghost, drew out a pistol, and +watched the unchancy thing's movements. It was evidently meant for me, for +it made a slight turn and came straight towards me. Then my man's logic, +as Margaret twittingly called it, came to my aid. Gloomy as it was, I saw +the outlines of some steps by which the low wall could be crossed, and +ghosts, both my authorities being in agreement on this, were independent +of such purely human contrivances. So, waiting till the ghost was climbing +down on my side, I said sternly, "Stop, or I fire!" Whereon it heaved a +great sob and tumbled full length to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +I jumped down, slipped the reins over Sultan's head, and pulled him up to +the spot. The ghost was a well-grown girl, dressed in nothing but a white +night-gown, for I could see her bare feet beyond the hem of it. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't be afraid, dear," said I soothingly, for she was dumb and half +dead with fright. "What can I do for you? Say it, and it's done. Come now, +be brave!" +</p> + +<p> +She sat up, leaning on her right hand, and turned her pallid, quivering +face up to mine. +</p> + +<p> +"Robbers, sir!" she gasped. "They're murdering father and mother. For +God's sake, sir, go and stop them." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," I replied cheerfully, slipping off my jacket. "Come on, my +brave lass!" +</p> + +<p> +I helped the lass to her feet, put her into my jacket, jumped into the +saddle, and lifted her astride behind me. +</p> + +<p> +"Clip me tight! Which way?" +</p> + +<p> +"Round the spinney first, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +Off we went, and this time I touched Sultan with the spur and he flew +along. Round the spinney; slantways across a field; up and over a gate, +the girl clinging to me like a leech; down a lane; up and over another +gate; and then the girl's shaking right arm was thrust over my shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"There's th' ouse! 0', God, if we anna in time!" +</p> + +<p> +"How many are there?" +</p> + +<p> +"Two, sir." +</p> + +<p> +I pulled Sultan up at the farmyard gate, helped her down, and jumped +after her. Hitching the horse, we started across the yard. +</p> + +<p> +Luckily the low-down moon was on the far side of the house, and we could +run softly up in the pitch dark. As I write I feel that brave girl's hard +grip of my hand as we raced on. At a half-open door we halted; she loosed +hold of me, and I tiptoed on alone. From within I heard the crash of one +pot and then another on the brick floor of the kitchen, as the villain, +searching for hidden money, smashed them to the ground. Bitten to the +vitals by his want of success, he yelled, "I'll burn the sow's eye out! +That'll open her mouth." +</p> + +<p> +With wrath flaming in my heart I stepped into the doorway leading to the +kitchen. My eyes lit on a poor woman bound hard and fast in a chair, and a +masked beast, his big white teeth showing through lips thrust wide apart +in a grin of hellish rage, approaching a red-hot poker towards her face. I +shot him, and he tumbled into a squirming heap. The other villain raced +for dear life through the open front door. My second bullet got him on the +very threshold, for he yelped and sprang into the air like a stricken +buck, but he held on. I e'en let him go, not daring to leave the unkilled +scoundrel on the floor, for he had a regular battery of pistols in his +belt. The girl was already untying her mother, and her father, bound and +gagged in his chair in the ingle-nook, could bide a while. So I plucked +the pistols out, there were six of them, and rattled them down on the +table. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig, and his purpling face and +heaving throat showed that he was choking. As I destined him for the +gallows, I picked him up, flung him face down on the table, and thumped +him violently in the back, whereupon he coughed up a tooth. My bullet had +stripped out all his grinning front teeth clean and clear, just as our +Kate's dainty thumb strips the row of peas out of a peascod. Once the +tooth was up he was not greatly hurt, and, holding one of his own pistols +to his head, I bade him unstrap the farmer. As soon as the latter was +free, I ordered him to strap the robber to a kitchen chair, which he did +very thoroughly. The instant this job was done, he leaped to fondle and +hearten his wife. She kissed him back and, without a word, feebly pointed +to me, whereupon he turned and thanked me. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank your brave daughter," said I, and then he jumped at her and hugged +her in his big arms, blubbing out, "My bonny, bonny Nance!" +</p> + +<p> +At my wish he lit a lantern, and we went out and stabled Sultan. We went +back through the kitchen to make a search of the front of the house. A +pretty sight awaited me within doors. The good wife was sipping at a cup +of parsnip wine, and the girl was again wearing nothing but her +nightdress. With crimson face and downcast eyes, she stood there holding +my coat out. +</p> + +<p> +"Hallo, ghostie!" said I, smiling at her. "You want to frighten me again, +do you?" +</p> + +<p> +Too confused to say a word, she lackeyed me into my coat and then ran +upstairs. To cut short her mother's tearful thanks, I led the way to the +door, and we started our examination. +</p> + +<p> +Some two yards from the door-sill the feeble rays of the lantern were +reflected from something on the ground. To my great satisfaction it was +fair booty to me, nothing less than my closest need, a rare good hat made +of the finest beaver. The band was buckled with gold, and there was a +taking and surely very fashionable cock to the brim. I sent my old one +spinning into the blackness and clapped my new treasure on my head. Now I +could walk side by side with Margaret and not be ashamed, at any rate not +of my hat. +</p> + +<p> +"The rogue jerked it off when I winged him," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Gom! He did jump, that's sartin," said the farmer, whose name, I ought +to say, I had learned was Job Lousely. +</p> + +<p> +It was quite a step down to the road, and we made no further discovery +till we got to the gate. Here it was his turn to be lucky, for there was +an excellent nag hitched to a rail. It was on Job's ground and he gave it +a home in his stable. +</p> + +<p> +"It'll mak up for the crockery," he said, with great delight. +</p> + +<p> +Back in the kitchen we found Nance fully dressed and busy laying a meal +on the table. She was so taken aback when I declared I was not hungry and +couldn't stay if I had been, that, to save her distress, I had a bite and +a sup of ale, while Job fetched Sultan round to the door. She was a sweet, +comely maiden, and it did my heart good to see her put a horn of ale to +the bleeding lips of the robber. He drank ravenously, like a dog after a +hard run. He was where he deserved to be, with his feet in the short, +straight path to the gallows, and I pitied him not. Nance did, and it's +good for the world that women are made that way. +</p> + +<p> +"How far is it to Ellerton Grange?" I asked Job, who came in to tell me +Sultan was ready. +</p> + +<p> +"A matter of six miles, sir. Three from here to Tutcheter, and three more +on to the Grange." +</p> + +<p> +"How funny, father," interposed Nance. "This is the second time tonight a +gentleman has asked the road to Ellerton Grange." +</p> + +<p> +It would hardly have struck Job as funny if it had been the +twenty-second, but Nance was quick and shrewd. +</p> + +<p> +"Ho! Ho!" said I. "Tell me about it, little woman!" +</p> + +<p> +"I was wishing my Jim good night at the gate, just before father came +home, when a man riding by pulled up and asked the road to Ellerton +Grange." +</p> + +<p> +"Did you make him out, Nance?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Not much of him, sir, but the moon shone on his face when he took his +hat off to wipe his forehead, and it looked for all the world like an +addled duck-egg." +</p> + +<p> +"Well put, Nance," said I, laughing. "First time I saw that face I +thought it was like a bladder of lard." +</p> + +<p> +"You know him, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think I do, Nance, and I must be after him." +</p> + +<p> +Out of the robber's string of pistols I selected a pair for myself. They +were lawful prize, and equal in quality to those Master Freake had given +me, so that the rascal had probably stolen them. I saw that all the others +were loaded, and advised Job to watch him all night and to lift him, chair +and all, into a cart the next morning and drive him off to the nearest +Justice. +</p> + +<p> +Job and his wife renewed their thanks when I was in the saddle. Nance +insisted on coming to open the gate, and on the way there she gave me full +and careful directions as to the way to Tutcheter and thence to the Grange. +</p> + +<p> +She swung the gate open and let me through. Then she came to my sword +side and held up her face to be kissed. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, ghostie!" +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, sir! God bless you!" +</p> + +<p> +Kissing and blessing were reward enough for my service, and I rode on +lighter at heart for them. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE DOUBLE SIX</h3> + +<p> +The time had not been wasted. I had had a stirring experience and got a +hint of dangers and uncertainties ahead. Moreover, and on this I plumed +myself most, I had acquired a handsome hat. It was a trifle roomy, but a +wisp of paper tucked within the inside rim would remedy that defect. The +moon was getting higher and brighter, and I pulled my new treasure off +again and again to admire it. It had belonged to a rascal with an +excellent taste in hats. I was very content with it, and looked forward +eagerly to catching the glint in Margaret's eyes when she saw it. After +all it behoved me to look well in her presence, and I regretted that the +rogue had not shed his coat and breeches as well. No doubt they were +equally modish and becoming, and would have set me up finely, though all +the tailors in London town couldn't make me a match for Maclachlan. A man +has to be born to fine clothes, like a bird to fine feathers, before he +looks well in them. The thought made me rueful. I jammed my hat on +fiercely, and slapped Sultan into a longer stride. +</p> + +<p> +The man ahead of me was, out of question, the Government spy, Weir. It +was now a full day and more since I had crammed my Virgil into his maw, +and he had had time to get into these parts. Thirty years before there had +been much feeling for the honest party hereabouts, and among the gentry +along the border of the shires there would be some in whose hearts the old +flame still flickered. Indeed, my own errand proved so much, and a +noser-out like Weir would be well employed in rooting up fragments of +gossip over the bottle and memories of beery confidences at market +ordinaries--sunken straws which showed the back-washes of opinion beneath +the placid surface flow of our rural life. I dug my fingers into my thigh +and imagined I was wringing the rascal's greasy neck, and the feeling did +me good. +</p> + +<p> +I began to ride past scattered houses and then between rows of cottages. +Sultan was tiring a little, but, being an experienced horse, pricked up at +the sight and cantered down the dead main street of the town. The shadows +of the houses on my left ended in an irregular line on the cobbled +causeway on my right. Near the town end I came on an exception to the +black-and-white stillness of the houses--an inn on my right ablaze with +light and full of noise. A merry liquorish company it held, some +quarrelling, some rowdily disputatious, and a few stentors trying to drown +the rest by roaring a tipsy catch. I pulled Sultan towards the verge of +the shadows to see if I could make anything out, and he, supposing, no +doubt, that I was guiding him towards bait and stable, made a half-turn +towards the portico that ran on pillars along the face of the inn. I +checked him at once, but, in that trice of time, a man leaped from behind +a pillar, laid one hand on the pommel of my saddle, and raised the other +in warning. He was a little man, and in his eagerness he stood on tiptoe +and whispered, "Ride on, Master Wheatman! One second may cost you dear!" +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke, some movement within startled him, and he leaped back +into the shadow before I could question him. +</p> + +<p> +I urged Sultan onward, and once out of footfall of the inn, pricked him +into a gallop. Out of the town he fled, past the end of the Stafford road, +along which two hours of Sultan's best would bring me to the Hanyards and +mother and Kate, and I kept him at it for a full two miles before I gave +him a breather and settled down to think out what it meant. +</p> + +<p> +I did not know the man from Adam, but he had me and my name quite pat. He +was obviously a friend, for his bearing and his warning alike bespoke his +goodwill towards me. He must be waiting there for some purpose, and he +must have seen me somewhere and learned enough about me to know from what +source danger to me was certain to come. In this case it was plain that +the danger was within the inn. The carousers might be, nay, almost +certainly were, soldiers, though there had been none in the town when Job +Lousely had left it less than two hours ago. The news of my escapade might +well have leaked into Stafford by now; I was very well known in the town, +and the stranger might be some Stafford chap benighted at Uttoxeter after +his business at the market. As I say, I did not know the man, but he might +very well know me; he was, perhaps, some old schoolfellow, grown out of +recollection by moonlight, and still willing to serve an old butty. This +seemed the likeliest solution of the difficulty, and it made me very sad. +The news about Jack would be whispered round by now, and I could never +walk the old streets again without seeing nods and shudders everywhere. +<i>See him? That's him! Killed his best friend! Wheatman of the Hanyards! +Never held his head up since! And hadn't ought to!</i> The chatter of the +townsfolk crept into my ears between the hoof-beats, and made me sick and +dizzy. +</p> + +<p> +It would not have happened but for the bladder-faced scoundrel ahead of +me, now creeping around like a loathsome insect to sting a man of ancient +name and fame, and I was eager to be at him again. Sultan, without more +urging, had made the furlongs fly in gallant style, and it was time to be +looking out for my landmarks. Nance had made me letter-perfect in them. +Here, on the right, was the woodward's cottage where the road began to run +downhill into a bottom dark with ancient elms: there, on my left, in an +open space among the boles, the moon showed up a worn, grey column which +marked the spot where, in the wild days of the Roses, a Parker Putwell had +slain a Blount in unfair fight for a light of love not worth the blood of +a rabbit. Nance had very earnestly told me the old, sad tale, to impress +the spot on my mind, for the long lane up to Ellerton Grange began in the +shadows just beyond the monument, and wound away up the slope to the +right. The road carried us up where the moon-light fell on meadows that +were almost lawns, and across them to a maze of buildings. A minute later, +I leaped off Sultan and hammered away at the studded oaken door of +Ellerton Grange. +</p> + +<p> +No man came to my summons, and I sent a second volley of rat-tats echoing +through the house before I heard a shuffling of feet within and a drawing +of big bolts. The door crept open for a foot or so, and an old man's head, +with a lantern trembling over it, appeared in the gap. +</p> + +<p> +"Who's there?" he quavered. +</p> + +<p> +"Wheatman of the Hanyards," I answered; "but my name is nothing to the +purpose and my business is. I must see Sir James Blount." +</p> + +<p> +"He's abed," said he, "hours ago!" +</p> + +<p> +"Then fetch him out!" +</p> + +<p> +The old man pushed his lantern close to my face and straightened himself +to take a fair look at me. He had sunken cheeks and toothless gums, and +hairless eyes with raw, red lids, and out of all question was some +ancient, rusty serving-man, tottery and slow, but quick-minded enough, and +of a dog-like faithfulness to the hand that fed him. +</p> + +<p> +"Young and masterly," he muttered, "and o'er young to be so o'er +masterly. But I mind the day when I would 'a' raddled his bones with my +quarterstaff." +</p> + +<p> +"I won't naysay it, grandad," I answered, seeking to humour him. "In your +time you've been a two-inch taller lad than I am. Not so big o' the chest, +though, grandad." +</p> + +<p> +"Who're you grandadding? I was big enough o' the chest when I could neck +meat and drink enough to fill me out. Now!" +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he gripped a handful of the waistcoat that hung loosely about +him, and added, "Once it was a fair fit, my master. It's cold and late for +my old bones to be creaking about, but Trusty's the dog for the tail-end +of the hunt, and a Blount's a Blount and mun be served." +</p> + +<p> +"Fetch him out!" I repeated. "I've ridden hard and far to serve him." +</p> + +<p> +The ancient took another look at me and said to himself in a loud +whisper, after the manner of old and favoured serving-men, "A farmering +body all but his hat, and none o' your ride-by-nights." +</p> + +<p> +"Fetch him out!" said I again, not for want of fresh words to say to the +candid old dodderer but to keep him to the point. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh-aye," said he, and shuffled off. +</p> + +<p> +He left me fuming, for his last mutteration, as he shook his lantern to +stir the flame up a bit, was, "Knows a true man when he sees one. More +used to a carving-knife than a sword, I'll be bound. What did he say? +Wheatman o' sommat! Reg'lar farmering name!" +</p> + +<p> +I kicked the door wide open and watched the lantern bobbing along the +hall. The light made pale shimmerings on complete suits of mail hanging so +life-like on the high, bare, stone walls, that it seemed for all the world +as if the knights had been crucified there and, little by little, age +after age, had dropped to dust, leaving their warrior panoplies behind--empty +shells on the shore of time from which the life had dripped and +rotted. The old man toiled up the grand staircase at the far end of the +hall and turned to the right along a gallery. The friendly light +disappeared, leaving me darkling and alone. Sultan sniffed his way to the +door, pushed in his head and neck, and rubbed his nose against my breast +in all friendliness. I flung my arms round his neck and caressed him, and +in those anxious minutes in the doorway of Ellerton Grange he was comrade +and sweetheart to me, and comforted my spirit greatly. +</p> + +<p> +Footsteps and a voice within made me turn my head. A man came at a run +down the stairs and along the hall. After him the old serving-man +hastened, lantern in hand, as best he could. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir James Blount?" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"The same," said he curtly and confusedly. +</p> + +<p> +"I bring you a letter from a very exalted person, Sir James," I explained. +</p> + +<p> +He took it from me much as he would have taken a bowl of poison. "The +light! The light! You slow old fool! The light!" he said, jerking the +words out as if his soul was in distress, and the ancient, barely half-way +down the hall, quickened his poor pace up to his master. He, tearing the +lantern out of the feeble hands, and rattling it down on a table, ripped +open the letter and devoured its contents. +</p> + +<p> +The light of the lantern revealed the face of a man still young, but at +least a half-score years my elder. He had a thin-lipped, sensitive mouth, +a great arched nose, and quick, eager eyes. His mind was running like a +mill-race, and his fine face twitched and wreathed and wrinkled under the +stress of the flow. Another thing plain enough was that the old man had +lied when he said his master was abed, for he was fully and carefully +dressed and his wig had not in it a single displaced or unravelled curl. +This was no half-awakened dreamer, but a man with the issues of his life +at stake. +</p> + +<p> +He crushed the letter in his hand and paced up and down the hall, +muttering to himself. I turned and rubbed Sultan's nose to keep him quiet +and happy. The old servant took charge of the lantern again, and followed +his master up and down with his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"A year ago, yes! A year ago, yes!" I heard Sir James say. He quickened +his steps and the words came in jerks, mere nouns with verbs too big with +meaning for him to utter them. "A word! A dream! A dead faith! Yes, +father! The devil! Sweetheart!" +</p> + +<p> +There is a great line in the Aeneid which I had tried in vain a hundred +times to translate. Three days agone I would have tilted at it once more +with all the untutored zeal of a verbalist. I should never need to try +again. There are some lines in the Master that life alone can translate. +<i>Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt.</i> +</p> + +<p> +After a turn or two in silence, Sir James broke off his pacing and came +to me. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," he said, "you will know enough to excuse my inattention to a +guest. I must make it up if I can. Give me the lantern and wait for us +here, Inskip. Come with me, sir, and stable your horse. Gad so, sir," +holding up the lantern, "you ride the noblest animal I have ever seen. +Woa, ho, my beauty! All my men are abed, so we must do it ourselves, but, +by Heaven, it will be a pleasure, Master--what may I call you, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just the plain name of my fathers--Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards." +</p> + +<p> +"A good strong name, sir, though my fathers liked it not." +</p> + +<p> +"And you, Sir James?" +</p> + +<p> +"Frankly, it is a name which to me has ceased to be a symbol. A good +fellow can call himself 'Oliver' without setting my teeth on edge. I had a +grand foxhound once, and called him 'Noll,' just because he was grand. My +dear old father consulted a London doctor as to the state of my mind. It +made him anxious, you see! The great man said, gruffly enough, that I was +as sane as a jackdaw. Thereupon my dear dad, one of the best men that ever +lived, had the dog shot!" +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, reminiscently rather than merrily, and was to my mind bent on +getting a grip on himself again. We made Sultan comfortable for the night, +and then Sir James courteously said it was high time to be attending to +me. He made no further indirect reference to the situation, until, as he +was leading me along the hall, he stopped opposite a great dim picture, +hanging between two sets of mail, and held the lantern high over his head +to give me a view of it. With a strange mixture of resentment and pathos, +he said, "A man's ancestors are sometimes a damned nuisance, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"They are indeed!" I replied. "There's one of mine shaking his fist at me +over the battlements of the New Jerusalem." +</p> + +<p> +He laughed heartily, and, with Inskip trailing patiently behind us, led +me upstairs, and through the gallery into a long corridor, lit by lanterns +fixed in sconces on the walls. We stopped opposite a door, and he was +about to lead me in when another door farther along the corridor opened +and a lady came out. She was all in white with dark hair hanging loose +about her shoulders, and there was a something in her arms. +</p> + +<p> +Down went the lantern with a bang, and Sir James flew like a hunted buck +along the corridor. He whipped his arms around the lady and kissed her +passionately, and then flung on his knees and held out his arms. She put +the something in white into them and there was a little puling cry. +</p> + +<p> +"Married a year come Christmas," whispered old Inskip, "and the babby's +five weeks old to-morrow." +</p> + +<p> +A serving-woman bustled out of another room, and the lady and child were +affectionately driven off to bed under her escort. Sir James came slowly +back. +</p> + +<p> +"My wife and son, Mr. Wheatman," he said. "You must meet them to-morrow. +The young rascal cries out whenever I desecrate him with my touch. It +would have served him right to have christened him 'Oliver.'" +</p> + +<p> +I laughed heartily, for he was fighting himself again by gibing at me. He +sent off the old man to scour the pantry for a supper for me, and then +pushed open the door and led me into the room. +</p> + +<p> +For size and dignity, it was a room to take away the breath of a poor +yeoman. It seemed to me a Sabbath day's journey to the great blazing +hearth, where two men were sitting; the high white ceiling was moulded +into a wondrous design, with great carved pendants hanging from it like +icicles from the eaves of the Hanyards. Many bookcases ran half-way up the +walls round the greater part of the room, filled with stores of books such +as my heart had never dreamed of, great leather-bound folios by platoons, +and quartos by regiments. If I could get permission I would steal an hour +or two from sleep to eye them over, and as we walked towards the hearth I +got behind my host in my slowness and had to step up smartly to get level +with him to make my bow of introduction. I gasped with the shock as I +stepped into the arms of Master John Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear lad," he cried, "what luck! What luck! How are you? How are they?" +</p> + +<p> +He made me sit down beside him, for here as elsewhere he was easily the +most important man present, though his bearing was ever quiet and modest. +He spoke of me to Sir James in warm and kindly phrases, and it soon became +manifest that his good word was a passport into my host's confidence and +regard. The three gentlemen filled their glasses and toasted me with grave +courtesy, and I easily slid out of the uneasy mood into which Inskip's +candour and my unaccustomed surroundings had driven me. +</p> + +<p> +The third man present was a Welsh baronet, Sir Griffith Williams, a +far-away cousin and close friend of Sir Watkin Wynne, whose name I +remembered to have heard on the Colonel's lips at Leek. Sir Griffith was a +brisk, apple-cheeked man of forty or thereabouts, very fluent of speech in +somewhat uncertain English, with fewer ideas in his head than there are +pips in a codlin, but what there were of them singularly clear and +precise. He reminded me of Joe Braggs, who could only whistle three tunes, +but whistled them like a lark. +</p> + +<p> +Inskip brought me a rare dish of venison-pie and various other good +things, and laid out the table for me. I left Master Freake's side to eat +my supper and listen to their talk. +</p> + +<p> +They made various false starts, followed by dead silences. It was clean +useless for Sir James to talk about his baby. Sir Griffith had had a long +family and so had exhausted the topic years ago, whilst Master Freake, a +bachelor, knew nothing about it. There had been a great flood in the +Welshman's valley in the autumn and he harangued upon it in style, and not +without gleams of native poetry, but Sir James had never seen a flood and +Master Freake had never been to Wales, so the flood soon dried up. +</p> + +<p> +There was a silence for some minutes, busy minutes for me with an apple +tart that was sublime with some cream to it, and I was settling down to +the sweet content of the well-fed when Sir James broke out. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Wheatman has brought me an invitation, hardly to be distinguished +from a command, to meet His Royal Highness at the Poles' place tomorrow." +</p> + +<p> +The eager Welshman bounced on to his feet, raised his glass and said, "To +the Prince, God bless him." Sir James had to follow his example, though he +was in no mood for it, and it would have looked ill had I not joined in, +and moreover the wine was excellent. +</p> + +<p> +"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Master Freake. "I am not clear +which Royal Highness is referred to, and besides I have no politics." +</p> + +<p> +"God bless him," bubbled the Welshman. "I shall join him when he has +crossed the Trent." +</p> + +<p> +Again there was silence for a space. +</p> + +<p> +"So the question is put, and I must give my answer," said Sir James, +breaking the stillness. "I must put my hand to the plough or draw back. I +must keep my word or break it. Can I be loyal to my father's creed and +also to my child's interests? I've got to be both if I can. If I can't be +both, which is to have the go-by? Fate has put me in a cleft stick, Master +Wheatman. On his death-bed my father handed on to me his place in the old +faith. He was a devoted adherent of the exiled House, the close friend and +associate of Honest Shippen, and even more intimately concerned than he in +the underground network of intrigue and preparation which was constantly +being woven, ruined, and re-woven up to his death ten years ago. He left +me poor and encumbered with debt, for he had been prodigal in his +sacrifices for the cause. It is a wonder that he died in his bed rather +than on the block, but he was as wary as he was zealous. For nine years I +lived here the life of a hermit, alone with my debts and my books. Then I +met a young girl"--his voice broke badly--"who became to me the +all-in-all of my life. By good fortune I also met Master Freake, who took +my affairs in hand for me and has helped me wisely and generously." +</p> + +<p> +"For ten per cent, Oliver," interrupted Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense! Wisely and generously, I repeat," said Sir James warmly. +</p> + +<p> +"For ten per cent on good security, I repeat," answered Master Freake +gravely. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn your ten per cent!" +</p> + +<p> +"Looks like it, and the security into the bargain!" said Master Freake +very quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Swounds! that's just it!" said Sir James. He rose and paced backwards +and forwards between me and the hearth. "A year ago, sir,"--he addressed +me in particular--"I should have shouted with joy at the summons to take +the place among the adherents of the cause which my father would have held +had he lived, and which it was his heart's wish on his death-bed that I +should take for him. The cause and the creed are nothing to me as such, +for I place no value on either. Your talk about the right divine of old +Mr. Melancholy, mumming and mimicking away there at Rome, makes me smile. +He's an old fool, that's the long and short of it. But a Blount's a Blount +after all. I owe something to my ancestors. My word to my father ought not +to be an empty breath. Yet here I am, with all the interests of life +pulling one way--wait till you've a boy five weeks old by a wife you'd be +cut in little pieces for, and you'll know, sir,--and a dead father and a +dead creed pulling the other. I knew what was coming, and I've talked +about it and thought about it till my head's like a bee-hive. Now, sir, +give me your advice!" +</p> + +<p> +"I have joined the standard of your Prince," I said. +</p> + +<p> +"Damme, sir, you mock me. That's not advice. That's torture." +</p> + +<p> +"I have turned my back on the creed of my life and on every sound +instinct in me," I continued. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped his walk and looked intently at me. +</p> + +<p> +"I have ancestors whose memory I cherish, and I have torn up their work +as if it were a scrap of paper covered with a child's meaningless +scribble." +</p> + +<p> +Sir James stepped up to the table, his fine face alive with emotion. +</p> + +<p> +"For what?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +I rose and looked straight into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"For a woman," I whispered, very low but very proudly. +</p> + +<p> +Our hands met across the table in a hard grip. +</p> + +<p> +"You have done well, sir!" he said. "I asked you to give me advice. You +have set me an example." +</p> + +<p> +He sat down again, and looked hopefully at the fire and then moodily at +Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"There is this unfortunate difference between Mr. Wheatman's case and +mine. I have, and he has not, given my plain word to a father." +</p> + +<p> +"I admit that is a striking difference," said Master Freake. "I am no +Jesuit, however, and cannot decide cases of conscience. I deal with +business problems only, which are all cut and dry, legal and formal. When +I make a promise in the way of business I always keep it precisely and +punctually, for the penalty of failure to do so is a business man's +death--bankruptcy." +</p> + +<p> +"There's such a thing as moral bankruptcy," said Sir James gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +"Very likely," replied Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"This is all nothing whatefer but words, words, words," said the +Welshman. "And words, my goot sirs, are indeed no goot whatefer. Sir +James's head is wrapped up in a mist of words, words, words, and indeed he +cannot see anything whatefer. I am not a man of words, and what you call +'em--broblems." +</p> + +<p> +"Very good," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed it is goot," said he. "To hell with your words and your broblems. +They are of no use whatefer, whatefer. Our good friend, Sir James, is up +to his neck in broblems like a man in a bog, and he cannot move. Now I +have not your broblems. To hell with your broblems. My Cousin Wynne is +full of 'em, and he's still gaping up at the cloud on Snowdon, while I'm +here, ready. I say plain: if the Prince cross south of the Trent I will +join him." +</p> + +<p> +"Why the Trent?" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"It is my mark. It is my way of knowing what I will do. It is all so +simple. Indeed I am a simple man, not a broblem in my brain, none +whatefer, I tell you plain. It is as this--so. If the Prince cross the +Trent, say I to myself, well and goot. He do his share. It is time for me +to do mine. It is better indeed, I tell you plain, to have it settled by a +simple thing like the Trent than to have it all muddled up by your +broblems. I can sing you off my ancestors by dozens, right back to the +standard-bearer of the great Llewellyn, but they're all dead, and indeed +I'm not going to poke about among their bones to find out what to do. I +look at your pretty river, and I wait." +</p> + +<p> +Sir James had looked at him during this harangue with unconcealed +impatience. +</p> + +<p> +"I sent a letter to Chartley of Chartley Towers," he said, "one of us, +and a strong one by all accounts. At any rate, my father always reckoned +him as such. So I asked him guardedly what he thought, and his reply was, +"The chestnut is on the hob. I am waiting to see whether it jumps into the +fire or into the fender." I cannot decide by appealing to rivers or nuts. +There's much more in it than that." +</p> + +<p> +Fate snatched the problem out of his hands. Without a tap, without a +word, the door of the room was flung open, and a dozen troopers filed +swiftly and silently in, and covered us with their carbines. An officer, +sword in hand, pushed through a gap in their line and stepped half a dozen +paces towards us. He saluted us ceremoniously with his sword and said, "In +the King's name!" Behind the line a man in citizen clothes hovered +uncertainly, and dim as the light was I made him out only too plainly. It +was the Government spy, Weir. My goose was cooked. I had played for life's +highest stake, and thrown amb's ace. It was good-bye to Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +The Welshman stuck to his chair, stolid as his native hills. Master +Freake, whose back was to the new-comers, made a swift half turn, and then +he, too, settled down again as indifferently as if the interruption had +only been old Inskip with the bedward candles. Blount leaped to his feet, +livid with rage, and strode up to the officer. +</p> + +<p> +"My Lord Tiverton, what does this intrusion mean?" he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +"It means," was the composed reply, "that if any one of you makes the +slightest attempt to resist, he will be shot out of hand. Close up, lads, +and cover your men!" +</p> + +<p> +The order was obeyed briskly and exactly. The three on the left of the +line attended to me, and I sat there, toying with a wine-glass for +appearance sake, though the three brown barrels levelled straight and +steady at my head made my heart rattle like a stone in a can. These were +none of Brocton's untrained grey-coats, but precise, disciplined veterans +in blue tunics and mitre-shaped hats, white breeches and high boots, +belted, buttoned, and bepouched. It was almost a compliment to be shot by +such tall fellows. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing we were all harmless, the officer dropped his military preciseness +as if it were an ill-fitting garment. He was the daintiest, handsomest +wisp of a man I had ever set eyes on, and looked for all the world like an +exquisite figure in Dresden china come to life. He could not have had much +soldiering--the air and aroma of the London <i>salon</i> still hung +closely around him--and he was so very self-possessed that he was +play-acting half his time, doing everything with a grace and relish that +were highly diverting. It took all my pride in my new hat out of me to see +this desirable little picture of a man. +</p> + +<p> +"I assure you, my dear Sir James," he said, "that it's a damned annoying +thing to me to have to act so unhandsomely. Stap me! I shouldn't like it +myself, but law's law and duty's duty, and so on, you know the old tale, +and I'm obleeged to do it." +</p> + +<p> +He opened his snuff-box and offered it to Sir James, who brusquely waved +it aside, saying, "Your explanation, if you please, my lord!" +</p> + +<p> +"Damme, don't be peevish! Smoke the Venus in the lid? Isn't she a +sparkler? Wish I'd lived in the times when ladies lay about on seashores +like it! I hate these damned crinolines. Saw Somerset in 'em in the +Pantiles. Could have pushed her over and trundled her like a barrel." +</p> + +<p> +"My lord," reiterated Blount, "I await your explanation." +</p> + +<p> +"Boot's on the other leg," he chirped. "A'nt I pouched you all cleverly, +stap me, seeing the ink on my commission's hardly dry? Didn't think it was +in me!" +</p> + +<p> +"I will take the authority of your commission as sufficient, my lord, the +times being what they are. But will you be good enough to tell me why you +come?" +</p> + +<p> +"Gadso! Certainly! There's a dirty rascal in pewter buttons behind there--come +here, sir, and let Sir James see your ugly face!--who says you're a +disloyal person, a traitor, and so forth. I don't believe him. I wouldn't +crack a flea on his unsupported testimony, but he's in the know of things, +and showed me a commission from Mr. Secretary, calling on His Majesty's +liege subjects, etc., you know the run of it, and I was bound to look into +it. Charges are charges, stap me if they a'nt. Don't come too near, pig's +eyes! Out with your tale!" +</p> + +<p> +His lordship plainly disliked the whole business, and it was a very +awkward thing for Sir James that I was here, a circumstantial piece of +evidence against him. I looked straight into Weir's eyes as he came +forward, ungainly and uncertainly, smiling half his dirty teeth bare, and +mopping his yellowy face with a dirty handkerchief. To my astonishment he +made not a single sign of recognition. I was his trump card, and he left +me unplayed. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir James is a known Jacobite, my lord!" he quavered. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite right, Mr. Weir, and if you propose to keep me out of bed these +cold nights calling on known Jacobites, stap my vitals, Mr. Weir, if I +don't have you flung into a pond with a brick tied round your sweaty neck +like an unwanted pup. Anything else?" +</p> + +<p> +"This is a Jacobite plot, my lord. There's scheming and plotting against +our gracious lord the King agoing on here, my lord." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll e'en have a closer look at 'em. Plots are damned interesting +things, stap me if they a'nt, and I'm glad to see one. Here's a likely +young fellow," striding up and examining me. "His is a plot in a meat-pie, +it seems. There was one in a meal-tub once, I remember, so the meat-pie +does look mighty suspicious, Mr. Weir. We're getting on. And here's a +plotter toasting his toes. Not an intelligent member of the cabal. Stap +me, if he a'nt asleep! I must circumambulate and have a quiz at him." +</p> + +<p> +He walked gaily in his play-acting way round Master Freake's chair on to +the hearth and then turned and took a peep at him. As soon as he had done +so he gave a great shout, and then, recovering himself, burst into a roar +of laughter. He clapped his hands on his knees and fairly swayed with +merriment. Master Freake looked at him with a sedate half-smile, and said, +"How d'ye do, my lord?" +</p> + +<p> +"Very well, thankee!" cried his lordship gaily, too gaily. "Damme! It's +the funniest thing that's happened since Noah came out of the Ark. Come +here, spy! Mean to tell me this is a Jacobite?" +</p> + +<p> +As the spy crept near, Master Freake stood up, wheeled round on him +smartly, and said, "How d'ye do, Turnditch?" +</p> + +<p> +"Stap me!" cried his lordship. "His name's Weir!" +</p> + +<p> +"He will know me better if I call him Turnditch," said Master Freake icily. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke unmistakable truth. I could see the shadow of the gallows fall +across the man's face. What stiffening there was in him oozed out, and he +stood there wriggling in an agony of apprehension, like a worm in a +chicken's beak. Master Freake knew him to the bottom of his muddy soul. My +Lord Tiverton was a man of another mould, but he too was in the hands of +his master. Plain John Freake, citizen of London, had taken a hand in this +game of fate, and had thrown double six. +</p> + +<p> +This noble room had seen the agonizings and rejoicings of a dozen +generations of the sons of men, but nothing to surpass this scene in +living interest. They come back to me now--the line of blue-and-white +troopers, still with levelled carbines; the stolid Welshman, as +indifferent as Snowdon; the dapper nobleman, still polished and lightsome, +no longer play-acting but rather vaguely anxious; the high-minded troubled +Jacobite, fear for his wife and babe gnawing at his heart; the spy, Weir +or Turnditch, with the noose he had made for another drawn round his own +neck; Master John Freake, the quiet, Quakerlike merchant, whose power was +rooted deep in those far haunts of the world's trade, so that we were here +shadowed and protected by the uttermost branches thereof. Last of all I +remember myself, with my heart thrumming good-morrow to Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Come now, Houndsditch, or Turndish, or whatever it is," said his +lordship. "Precisely what have you to say?" +</p> + +<p> +The poor devil had nothing to say. He was aflame to be off and out of +Master Freake's eyesight. He choked up something about mistakes, and zeal, +and forgiveness. +</p> + +<p> +"That's enough! Out you go, the whole damn lot of you!" cried my lord. +These not being familiar military words of command, the men stuck there +like skittles. "Ground arms, or whatever it is!" he continued. "About +turn! Quick march!" +</p> + +<p> +Their sergeant took charge of them and they filed out. Sir James followed +them and became their host, routing out servants to wait on them. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the door was closed on Sir James, his lordship hastened to +Master Freake's side, and entered into low and earnest conversation with +him. I walked across to the folios, hoping to find amongst them an +<i>editio princeps</i> of Virgil, but was recalled by a loud "Oliver" from +Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver," he said, when I reached his chair, "I should like you to know +the most noble the Marquess of Tiverton!" +</p> + +<p> +I bowed, and his lordship bowed in reply, and said light and pleasant +things about our meeting. Then, vowing he was monstrous hungry, he tackled +the venison pasty, summoning me to sit opposite him. +</p> + +<p> +"Gadso! I am sharp-set," he said, and indeed he ate with the zeal of a +plough-lad. He pushed me over his snuff-box, which nearly made me sneeze +before I took the snuff. +</p> + +<p> +"It really is a masterpiece," he said, in a pause between pasty and pie. +"I shall never hear the last of it at the 'Cocoa Tree' and White's. Stap +me, I shan't want to! It's too good. The tale will keep my memory green +when that old mummy, Newcastle, is dust at last." +</p> + +<p> +"What tale?" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"D'ye know why, a month ago, I badgered Newcastle into getting me a +company in the Blues?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not the faintest idea!" +</p> + +<p> +He leaned across the table and, from under cover of me, nodded towards +Master Freake, now talking with the Welsh-man. "To get out of his way!" he +whispered. +</p> + +<p> +I looked incredulous, whereupon his lordship tapped his pocket +significantly. +</p> + +<p> +"He's a damned good fellow. He gave me another six months without a +murmur. Wish I'd known! There'd have been no campaigning for me. I prefer +the Mall!" +</p> + +<p> +So he said now, yet he was as steady as a wall and as bold as a lion at +Culloden. He came of a great stock, and greatness was natural to him. The +play-acting and gaming was only the fringe that Society had tacked on to +him. It lessoned me finely to see him when Sir James came back into the +room. Tiverton knew the position by instinct. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir James," he said, "I crave a word with you." +</p> + +<p> +"At your service, my lord." +</p> + +<p> +"I will be frank," continued his lordship. "I ask no questions. I make no +inferences. I simply point out that the spy fell to pieces because he +found Mr. Freake here." +</p> + +<p> +"I observed so much, my lord!" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know why," said the Marquess dubiously. +</p> + +<p> +"I could hang him at the next assizes," interrupted Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"I see. He doesn't want to be hanged, of course. No one does. It's a +perfectly natural feeling. So he crumpled up at the prospect." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my lord," said Sir James. +</p> + +<p> +"I allowed him to crumple up, and I took full advantage of the fact. You +saw so much?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Sir James, you, as a Blount, that is, as a man bearing an honoured +name, are under the strictest obligation to me to see that I can say, if +my conduct is challenged, that I saw nothing here because there was +nothing to see. I have put myself absolutely in your power, Sir James. +Whoever else joins the Prince, you must not, or you take my head along +with you." +</p> + +<p> + +It was well and truly said, and there was no posing about it. Sir James +Blount's problem was settled. He taught me something too, for all he did +was to put out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"There's an end of Tundish!" said Tiverton, grasping it firmly. "And it's +the best end too, for the Highland army hasn't a snowball's chance in +hell." +</p> + +<p> +He turned at once to banter me on my indifference to art, seeing that I +had sniffed at a miniature by one of the most famous artists at the French +Court. I let him rattle on, for my eye was on Sir James, who was rolling +something in his hands. A moment later the Prince's letter went up in a +tongue of flame and burnt along with it the Jacobitism of the Blounts. +</p> + +<p> +A knock at the door interrupted his lordship's valuation of art and +artists of the French school, and his sergeant entered to say that his men +were in the saddle. +</p> + +<p> +"Campaigning be damned!" said his captain wearily. +</p> + +<p> +"Beg pardon, my lord," added the sergeant, "but Mr. What's-his-name has +cut off." +</p> + +<p> +"Good riddance. He's gone back to his crony at the 'Black Swan.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my lord. T'other's a sergeant in my Lord Brocton's dragoons." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I saw they were hob-and-nob together. A fellow with a ditch in his +face you could lay a finger in!" +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately for me, the Marquess was busy with a last glass of wine. Here +was ill news with a vengeance. I had got out of the smoke into the smother. +</p> + +<p> +"My lord," said Master Freake, "there is a man of mine, one Dot Gibson, +at the 'Black Swan,' and I shall be greatly beholden to you if you will +let your sergeant carry him a note of instructions from me." +</p> + +<p> +"Stap me! I'll take it myself," cried his lordship heartily. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake went to a table to write the note. I knew now who it was +that had given me the warning. My lord pocketed the note and we all crept +quietly down to the main door to see him off. The guards made a gallant +show in the brilliant moonlight, and Master Freake, taking my arm, dragged +me out to watch them canter across the stretch of meadow, and drop out of +sight down the hill. +</p> + +<p> +"Sleep in peace, Oliver," he said. "Dot Gibson will give us early news of +the movements of the enemy." +</p> + +<p> +Then we strolled back, talking of the Colonel and Margaret. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<h3>WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY</h3> + +<p> +It was eight by the clock next morning before I set about my third +commission. To begin with, the bed pulled, and small wonder, since I had +not slept in a bed since leaving home. Then I took my fill of the books, +finding among them no less a prize than the <i>editio princeps</i> of +Virgil, printed at Rome in 1469, which it was hard to let go. Next there +was Baby Blount to be waited upon, and his mother, a pretty, appealing +lady, with the glory of motherhood about her like a fairy garment. Part of +the ceremonial was the putting of Master Blount into my arms, which was +done very gingerly, with abundant cautions and precautions against my +crushing or dropping him. He had a skin like white satin and a silvery +down on his charming little head. Altogether I thought him a most +desirable possession for a man to have, and wished he was mine, +particularly when, to his father's outspoken chagrin, instead of puling he +stared steadily at me with big blue eyes and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"Precious ikkle ducksy-wucksy," said his mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Ugly ikkle monkey-wonkey," cried his father. "Why the deuce can't he +smile at me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Try him!" said I, handing him over to Sir James, glad to be free of the +responsibility. +</p> + +<p> +Baby Blount looked at his father and smiled again, and it was a +revelation to me of the deepest and finest feelings of a man's heart to +see how ravished Sir James was with this first smile of his baby boy's. +</p> + +<p> +"It's you that's changed, James, not our little darling," said his wife. +"He'll always smile at a face as happy as yours is this morning." +</p> + +<p> +I lingered through these delightful moments over an old book and a new +baby with an easy conscience, for Master Freake had brought me news which +made my third task much easier. I had not told him what I had in hand to +do, thinking it unfair to force the knowledge on him, but he must have +made a good guess at it, for he came to tell me that the latest news from +Stone was that the Duke was moving south again at top speed, with the +intention of getting between the Prince and London if he could. He told me +further that Charles had joined Murray at Ashbourne in the small hours, +and that their reunited forces had started out for Derby. In all these +important matters he was, as is obvious enough now, fully and exactly +informed, and I expressed my admiration of his thoroughness. +</p> + +<p> +"Business, my dear Oliver, nothing but business. Some great man of old +time has said 'Knowledge is power.' I'm expanding that a little to fit +these modern days. That's all." +</p> + +<p> +"How does the maxim run now, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Knowledge is money and money is power," said he, with a dry smile. +</p> + +<p> +Then, as to matters small in themselves but of more immediate concern to +me, he told me that his man, Dot Gibson, had reported that the spy, Weir, +had at an early hour ridden off towards Stafford, while the sergeant of +dragoons was still lurking at the "Black Swan." There had been long +consultations between them as if they were acting in concert. +</p> + +<p> +This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had +seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake +had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would +in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his +evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be +only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a +useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let +slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of +their conduct. +</p> + +<p> +I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my +ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till +we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway. +</p> + +<p> +"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night." +</p> + +<p> +"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean +to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad." +</p> + +<p> +"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no +fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and +keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced +blackguards at his service and will compass hell itself to fetch you down. +What about money?" +</p> + +<p> +"I've plenty and to spare," I answered, "thanks to your generous loan." +</p> + +<p> +"No loan, lad, but my first contribution to the expenses of--what shall +we say for safety? Your tour. How will that do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, sir--" +</p> + +<p> +"Yea. Oliver, and no more said. My favourite rate is ten per cent. You've +let me off with a paltry two." +</p> + +<p> +"I do not like joking in money matters, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"John Freake joking in money matters?" said he, smiling. "Tell it not +when you get to town, Oliver, or you'll be the ruin of a hard-won +reputation. I sent you sixty guineas odd." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Which is, to be precise, slightly less than two per cent of what you +saved me when you snatched me out of the dirty grip of Brocton's rascals. +I had a good thick slice of his lordship's patrimony in my pocket. Off you +go, lad! Sultan is impatient at my trifling. So ho! You beauty! Good-bye!" +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, sir!" I cried heartily, swinging my new hat in a grand bow. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +At three o'clock in the afternoon, having ridden hard and far without +bite or sup, I came out in a little hamlet huddled about the great London +road where it ran along the hem of a forest, and drew rein before the +"Seven Stars." I was to be in presence with my report at six o'clock, and, +as Derby was only fifteen miles off and the road one of the best, there +was ample time for Sultan and me to take the rest and refreshment we both +stood in need of. +</p> + +<p> +I was, too, in need of quiet and leisure to get my report straightened +out in my mind ready for delivery. The largeness and looseness of my +commission left everything to my discretion, with the vexatious result +that I had discovered nothing. I had, indeed, carried out my orders. I had +been so far west of Derby that I had seen the famous spires of Lichfield +cutting into the sky like three lance-heads, and had learned on abundant +and trustworthy evidence that the Duke's forces there were leaving for the +south, under orders to march with all speed to their original camp at +Merriden Heath. This squared exactly with Master Freake's news, and was +all the stock of positive information I had got together. +</p> + +<p> +Of the kind of news the Prince would best like to hear there was none. Of +preparations to join him, none. Of open well-wishers to his cause, none. +The time when the Stuart banner could rally a host around it had gone +beyond recall. There was no violent feeling the other way. People simply +did not care. The old watchwords were powerless. The old quarrel had been +revived in a world that had forgotten it, and would not be reminded of it. +It was Charles and his Highlanders against George and his regiments, and +as the latter were sure to win, nobody bothered. It is the strange but +exact truth that the only sign I discovered of the great event in +progress, was to come across a group of four respectable men of the middle +station in life bargaining with an innkeeper for the hire of a chaise, in +which they meant to drive to watch the Highlanders march by. They were +very keen to bate him a shilling, and as indifferent as four oysters to +the issues at stake. +</p> + +<p> +Riding into the inn-yard, I shouted to the host to get me his best +dinner, and, while it was preparing, I overlooked the grooming and baiting +of Sultan. I left him comfortable and content, and strolled indoors to +look after my own needs. +</p> + +<p> +Though on the London road, and only fifteen miles from the scene of +action, the inn was quiet. I learned from the host that a courier had +galloped through an hour before, spurring southwards, and cried out from +the saddle that the bare-legs were only five miles from Derby when he +left. Earlier in the day a cart had driven through loaded up with the +gowns of the town dignitaries, "going to Leicester to be done up," +explained the host, delighted with his own shrewdness. +</p> + +<p> +A hunger-bitten traveller with a good dinner in front of him commonly +pays no attention for the time being to anything else. I found two men in +the guest-room, and, after a civil greeting, which made one of them open +his eyes and mouth very uncivilly, I sat down to eat, very content with +the fare set before me. +</p> + +<p> +As my hunger steadily abated before a steady attack on a cold roast +sirloin of most commendable quality, I began to take more interest in the +two men. In fact, more interest in them was forced on me by the beginnings +of a pretty quarrel between them, and by the time I had got to the cheese, +they, utterly regardless of my presence, were at it hammer and tongs. The +row was about a horse-deal lately passed between them, and there are few +things men can quarrel about more easily or more vigorously. The yokel who +had gaped at me, had been cheated by his companion, and was accordingly +resentful. +</p> + +<p> +Two men more at odds in outward appearance could not easily have been +found. The gaper was plain country, a big, bulky man, with a paunch that, +as he sat, sagged nearly to his knees, a triple chin, and a nose with a +knobly end, in shape and colour like an overripe strawberry. His companion +was a little fellow, lean and sharp-cut, with a head like a ferret's. We +country-siders know your Londoner. Many an hour I had sat under the clump +of elms at the lane-end and watched the travellers. Hence, doubtless, my +taste in fashionable head-gear, like this of mine, lately belonging to +Swift Nicks, now disposed carefully on the table at my side. I would have +wagered it against Joe Braggs' frowsy old milking-cap that the little man +was a Londoner. +</p> + +<p> +Little as he was, his cold, calculating anger overbore his antagonist, +who was no great hand at stating his case, good as it was. +</p> + +<p> +"The landlord knows me and knows the gelding," said the little man. "You +know less about horses than a Mile End tapster. Fetch him in, and let him +decide. I suppose you rode him!" +</p> + +<p> +"What a God's name, d'ye think I bought him for, Mr. Wicks? To look at?" +</p> + +<p> +"By the look of you I should think you bought him as a present for a +baby. Sixteen stone six if you're an ounce, and riding a two-year-old! +Damme, no wonder he throws out curbs! Fetch the landlord, I tell ye!" +</p> + +<p> +Out burst the fat man in a great fury, and in a minute or two came back +with the landlord and an ostler. Then the wrangle became hotter and more +amusing than ever. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, the little man, losing all patience, drew a pistol, whereon the +big man ran backwards, shrieking "Murder!" Not heeding where he was going, +he tumbled up against my table, and jammed it hard against my midriff. +</p> + +<p> +I attempted to rise but was too late. The fat man seized my wrists, the +landlord and the ostler ran round, and pinned me to the chair, and the +little man held the barrel of the pistol to my forehead. +</p> + +<p> +"Good afternoon, Mr. Swift Nicks!" said he. +</p> + +<p> +I dare say my liver was turning the colour of chalk, but, though I'm too +easily frightened, I'm always too proud to show it, which has unjustly got +me the character of being a brave man. +</p> + +<p> +"Good afternoon, Mr. Too-swift Wicks!" I retorted. +</p> + +<p> +"What d'ye mean?" he asked, plainly disconcerted. +</p> + +<p> +"I mean," said I, "that the zeal of your office hath eaten you up." +</p> + +<p> +"What the hell does he mean?" he asked, appealing to the company. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn my bones if I know," answered the host. "I've 'eerd parson say +sommat like it in church a Sundays. He's one of these 'ere silly +scholards." +</p> + +<p> +"They do say as how Swift Nicks is a scholard," put in the ostler wisely. +</p> + +<p> +"There's no time for chattering," said I. "Take me at once before a +justice. That's the law, and you know it. I warn you that any delay will +be dangerous. My cocksure friend here is already in for actions for +assault, battery, slander, false imprisonment, and the Lord knows what. My +gad, sir, I'll give you a roasting at the assizes. Take me off at once to +the nearest magistrate. I'll have the law on you before another hour's +out." +</p> + +<p> +My energy flustered the Londoner, who had sense enough to know the peril +of his being wrong, but the fat man, dull as an ox, cheered him on. +</p> + +<p> +"He's Swift Nicks right enough, Master Wicks," he said. "Pocket full of +pistols, four on 'em; a chap of the right size, a matter of six feet odd; +hereabouts, where he is known to be; speaks like a gentleman; and, damme, +I saw Swift Nicks myself with my own eyes not two yards off, and that's +Swift Nicks' hat or I'm a Dutchman; I know'd it again the minute he walked +into the room." +</p> + +<p> +"Damn the hat!" cried I heartily enough, but feeling very crestfallen at +this telling piece of evidence against me. +</p> + +<p> +The little man snatched it up and looked carefully at the inside of it, a +thing I had never done, being wrapped up in its outside. +</p> + +<p> +"There y'are!" he cried triumphantly. "'S. N. His hat.' What more d'ye +want?" +</p> + +<p> +"I want the nearest magistrate," cried I. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Mr. Wicks," said the fat man, "he can easily have what he wants. +It's only a matter o' two mile to the Squire's." +</p> + +<p> +"Squire'll welly go off 'is yed," remarked the host. "He's that sot on +seeing Swift Nicks swing." +</p> + +<p> +"Then he'll very likely go bail for Mr. Wicks," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Will he?" said Mr. Wicks sourly. +</p> + +<p> +"If he don't," I retorted, "you'll spend the night in Leicester jail." +</p> + +<p> +"They do say as 'ow Swift Nicks is a rare plucked 'un," said the ostler. +</p> + +<p> +"Then they're liars," said I. +</p> + +<p> +I was handcuffed and put on Sultan, with my feet roped together under his +belly. Then we started off, and the whole village, which had dozed in +peace with the Highlanders only five hours off, turned out gaily and +joyously to see Swift Nicks. The landlord left his guests, and the ostler +his horses, to go with us, and at least a score of villagers, mostly +women, joined in and made a regular pomp of it. Once or twice we met a man +who cried, "What's up?" and at the response, "Swift Nicks," he added +himself to the procession and was regaled, as he trudged along, with an +account of the affray at the inn. My capture was exceedingly popular, and +they gloated to my face over the doom in store for me, wrangling like +rooks as to the likeliest spot for my gibbet. The majority fixed it at the +Copt Oak, where, as they reminded me with shrill curses, I had murdered +poor old Bet o' th' Brew'us for a shilling and sixpence. It was a relief +to hear the host shout to Master Wicks, "Yon's th' Squire's!" +</p> + +<p> +We trooped up to a fair stone house of ancient date with a turret at the +tip of each wing. My luck was clean out. The Squire was not yet back home +from hunting, for he went out with the hounds every day the scent would +lie. He had ridden far, or was belated, or his horse had foundered, and +there was no telling, said his ruddy old butler, when he would be back. So +the villagers were driven off like cattle, Sultan was stabled, and we five +were accommodated in the great hall, for the host and the ostler stayed on +the ground that so dangerous a villain as Swift Nicks wanted a strong +guard. They put me under the great chimney and sat round me, in a half +circle, each man with a loaded pistol in one hand and a jug of ale in the +other. The Squire's lady came in and stood afar off examining me, and I +saw that she was in deadly fear of me, handcuffed and guarded as I was. +</p> + +<p> +Over an hour crawled by, taking with it my last chance of getting into +Derby, with my task accomplished, by six o'clock. What would Margaret +think of me? Her obvious pride in the honour the Prince had conferred upon +me by selecting me as his personal helper, had been a great delight to me, +and now I had failed him and disquieted her. The thought made me rage, and +I gave my captors black looks worthy of any tobie-man on the King's +highway. +</p> + +<p> +At last relief came in the shape of the Squire's youngest son, a stout +lad of some twelve years old, who raced in, rod in hand, and made up to me +without a trace of fear. He was in trouble about his rod, having snapped +the top joint in unhandily dealing with a fine chub. After some wrangling, +I got my hands freed, and set about splicing the joint. +</p> + +<p> +"They do say," said I mockingly, "as how Swift Nicks is a good hand at +splicing fishing-rods." +</p> + +<p> +"I never 'eerd tell of that'n," said the stolid ostler. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you really Swift Nicks, sir?" asked the lad, looking steadily at me +with frank, innocent eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"No more than you are Jonathan Wild or Prester John, my son," I answered. +</p> + +<p> +"Then who are you?" he persisted. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm a poor splicer of fishing-rods. I get my living by riding about the +country on a fine horse, with one pair of pistols in my holsters and +another pair in my pocket, looking for nice little boys with broken +fishing-rods, and mending 'em--the rods, not the boys--so that father +never finds it out and the rod's better than ever it was. How big was the +chub?" +</p> + +<p> +"That big!" said he, holding his hands about two feet apart. +</p> + +<p> +"The great advantage, my son, of having your rod mended by me is that +ever afterwards you'll be able to tell a chub from a whale." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said he proudly, "a Chartley never lies." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," said I, "it's hard to say exactly how big a fish is when +you've missed him. So your name's Chartley. Is this Chartley Towers?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is," said he, with a taking boyish pride ringing in his voice. "We +are the Chartleys of Chartley Towers. We go back to Edward the Third." +</p> + +<p> +Did ever man enjoy such fat luck as mine? I had been as hard beset as a +nut in the nutcrackers. To prove that I was not Swift Nicks I should have +to prove that I was Oliver Wheatman. The Bow Street runner would see to +that, for, as Swift Nicks, I was worth fifty guineas to him, a sum of +money for which he would have hanged half the parish without a twinge. +Cross or pile, I should lose the toss. Drive away the cart! Such had been +my thoughts, and now a lad's young pride had snatched me out of danger. I +grew quite merry over the splicing, and told young Chartley all about my +fight with the great jack. +</p> + +<p> +The job was near on finished when there was a rattle of hoofs without, +and, a minute later, the door was flung open and in swept a torrent of +yapping foxhounds, followed by a big, hearty, noisy man in jack-boots and +a brown scratch bob-wig. +</p> + +<p> +"Dinner! Dinner!" he shouted to his wife, who came in to meet him. "The +best run o' the year, lass! Thirty miles before he earthed, the dogs +running breast-high every yard of it, and the very devil of a dig-out! +There was only me and parson and young Bob Eld o' Seighford in at the +death. Dinner, dinner, my lass! I could eat the side of a house. Hallo, +damme! What art doing here, Jack Grattidge?" +</p> + +<p> +The question was put to the host, who was shuffling down the hall to meet +him. The Squire slashed the dogs silent with his half-hunter to catch the +reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Please, y'r honour," said the host, "we've copped Swift Nicks." +</p> + +<p> +"By G--! You a'nt!" +</p> + +<p> +"We 'an," declared the host. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" roared the Squire. "That's news! I owe you a guinea for it, +Jack." +</p> + +<p> +He clumped up to the hearth, crying out as he came, "Show me the black, +bloody scoundrel! I'd crawl to London on my hands and knees to watch him +turned off." +</p> + +<p> +Seeing me engaged in the innocent task of mending his lad's fishing-rod, +with the lad himself at my knees intent on the work, he took Mr. Wicks for +the highwayman, and cursed and swore at him hard enough to rive an +oak-tree. He was, indeed, so hot and heady that it was some minutes before +his mistake could be brought home to him. By the time he realized that the +man mending the rod was Swift Nicks, he had fired off all his powder, and +only stared at me with wide-open eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose," said I, very politely, "that, as you've been hunting, the +chestnut is still on the hob." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm damned!" says he, and flops down into his elbow-chair. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +In the end we made a treaty, to Mr. Wicks' great disgust, who saw the +guineas slipping through his fingers. Nor was the Squire less aggrieved at +first, for clearly it was to him a matter of high concern to nail Swift +Nicks. +</p> + +<p> +"What's it matter to us here who's got a crown on his head in London?" he +said. "London-folk care nothing for us, and we care nothing for them. But +Swift Nicks does matter. We want him hung. No man about here with any +sense bothers about your politics except at election-times, when politics +means a belly full of beer and a fist full of guineas for every damned +tinker and tallow-chandler in Leicester. But you, or that bloody villain +Swift Nicks, if you a'nt him, keep us sweating-cold o' nights. To hell +with your politics! Hang me Swift Nicks!" +</p> + +<p> +The terms of our treaty were that I was to remain peaceably and make a +night of it, giving my word to make no attempt to escape or harm anyone. +In the meantime, and at my proper charges, a post was to be sent to fetch +Nance Lousely and her father to give evidence on my behalf. +</p> + +<p> +"DEAR GHOSTIE,"--I wrote to her,--"I am in great danger because a +red-nosed man vows I am Swift Nicks. I want you and your father to come +and prove he's an ass. If you don't I am to be hung on a gibbet at a place +called the Copt Oak, and I can't abide gibbets, for they are cold and +draughty. So come at once, my brave Nance!--Your friend, +</p> + +<p> +"O. W." +</p> + +<p> +A groom was fetched and I told him how to get to Job Lousely's. He was +well mounted from the Squire's stables and set off. However quickly he did +his business, it would be many hours before he could be back. So I settled +down to make a night of it. +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing original in the Squire's way of making a night of it. +The parson who had been in at the death and who, during the settlement of +my affair, had been busy in the stables, now joined us at dinner. He was +but lately come from Cambridge, at which seat of learning the chief books +appeared to be Bracken's <i>Farriery</i> and Gibson on the <i>Diseases of +Horses</i>, with Hoyle's <i>Whist</i> as lighter reading for leisured +hours. He was a hard rider, a hard swearer, and a hard drinker, and, after +being double japanned, as he called it, by a friendly bishop, had been +pitchforked by the Squire into a neighbouring parish of three hundred a +year in order that the Squire's dogs and hounds, and the game and poachers +on the estate, might have the benefit of his ministrations. He had, +however, sense enough to buy good sermons. "At any rate the women tell me +they're good," explained the Squire. "I can't say for myself, for Joe's a +reasonable cock, and always shuts up as soon as I wake up." +</p> + +<p> +The Bow Street runner, Mr. Wicks, and the red-nosed petty constable of +the hundred, who answered to the name of Pinkie Yates, were of the party. +I ate little and drank less, but the others emptied the bottles at a +great pace and were soon hot with drink. One brew, which the huntsmen +quaffed with much zest, I insisted, out of regard for my stomach, on +passing round untouched, though the men of law took their share like +heroes, and, I doubt not, thought they were for once hob-nobbing with the +gods. The manner of it was thus. The parson drew from his pocket a leg of +the fox they had killed that day, and, stinking, filthy, and bloody as it +was, squeezed and stirred it in a four-handled tyg of claret. In this evil +compound the Squire solemnly gave us the huntsman's toast: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "<i>Horses sound. Dogs hearty,<br> + Earth's stopped, and Foxes plenty</i>." +</p> + +<p> +The parson then hiccoughed a song for which he should have been put in +the stocks, after which Mr. Wicks, with three empty bottles and three +knives to stand for the gallows, gave us a vivid account of the +turning-off of the famous Captain Suck Ensor, who kicked and twitched for +ten minutes before his own claimed him. +</p> + +<p> +It was five o'clock next morning before my courier returned with Nance +Lousely and her father. I had gone to sleep in the Squire's elbow-chair +before the hall fire, with the zealous thief-takers in attendance, turn +and turn about, as sentries over me, fifty guineas being well worth +guarding. The butler watched at the door, wakefully anxious to earn the +crown I had promised him. The noise he made in unchaining and unbolting +the door awakened me, and it warmed my heart to see Nance standing timidly +just inside the hall, her hand in her father's, till she spied me, when +she broke away and ran up to me. +</p> + +<p> +"You knew I'd come, sir, didn't you?" she said, appealing to me more with +her pretty anxious face than by her words. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, ghostie!" I replied promptly. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in +my words or face, she would have broken down. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are +you. Job? Much obliged to you both." +</p> + +<p> +"We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse +afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor +that'n. Our Nance nearly bust. Gom, she did that'n." +</p> + +<p> +"Your Nance is a darling," said I, stroking her disordered hair. +</p> + +<p> +At my request backed by a promise to turn the crown into half a guinea, +the butler got them some breakfast. Fortunately the Squire and the parson +were due at a duck-shooting ten miles off by seven o'clock, and so were +stirring early. My matter was soon settled. The Squire sat magisterially +in his elbow-chair, and Nance and her father told their tale, precisely as +I had told it before them. It cleared me and made the thief-catchers look +mightily confused and sheepish, and very relieved they were when, as a +politic way of staving off awkward questions, I grandly accepted their +apologies. +</p> + +<p> +"I knew you weren't Swift Nicks," said the Squire, "when I saw you +mending my lad's fishing-rod. Damme, we'll get him though, before we've +done." +</p> + +<p> +He invited me to join him at breakfast, where we were alone for the first +time. +</p> + +<p> +"Is it into the fire or into the fender?" he asked meaningly. +</p> + +<p> +I was ready for him and, stopping with the carving knife half-way through +a fine ham I was slicing, said, as if amazed, "Is what into the fire or +into the fender?" +</p> + +<p> +"The chestnut," said he. +</p> + +<p> +"The chestnut!" I retorted. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, well! I don't blame you for your caution, sir. Sir James Blount +sounded me and I know you know my reply. Whether fire or fender will make +no difference to me, and I wouldn't miss to-day's duck-shoot to make it +either." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope there'll be plenty of birds, and strong on the wing," said I. +</p> + +<p> +This ended all the talk that passed between us on the great event that +had so strangely brought us together. He, the squire of half a dozen +villages, went duck-shooting while the destiny of England was being +settled just outside his own door. +</p> + +<p> +For the second time Nance walked a space by my side to wish me good-bye. +</p> + +<p> +"Nance, my sweet lass," said I, pulling Sultan up, "do you know that +dirty little ale-house near your home?" +</p> + +<p> +"Where the painted woman lives, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"That very place! Now Swift Nicks is hiding there. Go back and tell the +Squire you can find Swift Nicks for him, and they'll fill your pinner with +guineas. You'll kiss me for a pinnerfull of guineas, won't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir," said she very decidedly. +</p> + +<p> +"Then kiss me, Nance, because, though we shall never meet again, we've +helped one another when we did meet." +</p> + +<p> +She put her foot on mine, and I lifted her up in my arms and kissed her +red young lips and tear-stained cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Nance!" +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, sir. God bless you!" +</p> + +<p> +At a bend in the road I turned to look at her again. She was standing +there, looking after me, and waved her bonnet in farewell. I took off my +hat and waved back, and then she was gone from sight. +</p> + +<p> +"She's a good girl is Nance," said I aloud, "and you, curse you, are the +cause of all my troubles"--this to my new hat. My foppery had cost me +dear. What would the Prince say to my failure? What would Margaret say? +There would once more be questionings in her eyes, and the shadow of doubt +on her face. +</p> + +<p> +"Curse you!" I said again to the hat, and then, with a swift, strong +sweep of my arm, sent it spinning into a brook. +</p> + +<p> +Sultan showed his points. He did ten miles in fifty minutes by my watch, +accurate timing and counting from one milestone to another. +</p> + +<p> +At last the broad Trent came in sight and I rattled over Swarkston +bridge, only to be pulled up on the other side by a strong post of +Highlanders. My luck still held, however, for Donald was amongst them, +and, on his explaining who I was, the chief in command let me pass. +</p> + +<p> +Donald trotted by my side for half a mile to give me all the news. The +Prince had lain all night at Derby in the Earl of Exeter's house. There +had been many rumours and wranglings among the chiefs at night, a council +of war was fixed for this morning, and no one knew what it was all about. +There had been great doings overnight in the town, and he, Donald, had +stood guard at the Prince's lodging. +</p> + +<p> +"She dinged 'em a', as I tell't ye she would," he said. "Losh, man, it +was a grand sight to see her an' the bonny Maclachlan gliding ower ta +flure in ta dancin'. They were like twa gowden eagles gliding in the air +ower a ben wi' ta sun shinin' on it. Losh, man, I tell it ye, they're a +bonny, bonny pair. Got pless 'em." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Donald! I'll push on. Damn Swift Nicks!" I cried, and gave +Sultan such a dig in the flanks that he shot ahead like an arrow from a +bow. I was sorry immediately, but it was more than I could stand. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> + +<h3>THE COUNCIL AT DERBY</h3> + +<p> +It was a relief to get into the chock-full streets of the town, where +thinking was impossible and good round cursing indispensable. Even with +its aid in clearing a course for him, Sultan tumbled over a brace of +Highlanders, two of a swarm of Maclachlans and Macdonalds who were +disputing possession of a cutler's shop on the corner of Bag Street. After +their native fashion, they immediately suspended their quarrel to unite +against a common foe, but on a Maclachlan recognizing me as a friend, went +at one another again with infinite zest, and I saw them hard at it as I +turned into the market-square. +</p> + +<p> +Our meagre collection of cannon had been packed here with their +appendancies, and I was threading my way through them to the far side of +the square, where stands Exeter House, and was within a flick of a pebble +of it, when the Colonel ran out, bareheaded and eager, and came up to me. +</p> + +<p> +"You young dog! What's happened?" said he. +</p> + +<p> +"I've lost my hat, sir," I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Lost your--Damme! I'll have you court-martialled yet before I've done +with you. Off you come! Hello, my precious. Hitch him to the tail of yon +wagon and come along. The Prince saw you from the window. Steady, my +beauty! Come along, Noll! Fancy a town the size of this and not a damned +pinch of Strasburg in it!" +</p> + +<p> +I hurried after him through the hall and up the stairs. Something big was +in hand beyond a doubt, for hall and stairs were thronged with groups of +Highland leaders, and in one set, somewhat apart, I saw Murray and +Ogilvie. The Colonel took no notice of the curious looks that were cast +upon us, particularly me, but, after a word with the chief on duty, +ushered me unceremoniously into the presence. +</p> + +<p> +Charles was taking short turns up and down near the hearth, but stopped +as I bowed before him. +</p> + +<p> +"You've failed me!" he said bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +"I have carried out your Royal Highness's commands exactly, though, to my +deep regret, not punctually, but every hour I am late has been spent under +arrest. In riding on your business, sir, I have ridden up to the foot of +the gallows." +</p> + +<p> +I spoke quietly but crisply, for I would not be girded at unjustly, no, +not by a prince. He took my meaning, and answered generously, "As I knew +you would, Master Wheatman, if need were." +</p> + +<p> +The noble panelled room in which we were was set out with a long table +and many chairs. At the head of the table a mean-looking man was busily +writing. At the window two other men stood in earnest conversation, and +these, as I learned later, were the Irishmen, Sir Thomas Sheridan and +Colonel O'Sullivan. +</p> + +<p> +"Leave your dispatch, Mr. Secretary, and come hither. And you, too, +gentlemen!" said Charles. +</p> + +<p> +So, with the Prince sitting near the fire and the four leaders ranged +behind him, I stood and told my tale, cutting out all that was meaningless +from their point of view. As I had expected, there was no mistaking its +effect on him. I had indeed, come back empty-handed. Yet he pulled himself +together and said lightly, "Well, gentlemen, if the men of the Midlands +are not for me, they are certainly not against me." +</p> + +<p> +"That is a strong point in your favour, sir," said O'Sullivan. +</p> + +<p> +"When I've thrashed the Duke and got into London," said Charles, buoyed +up at once by any straw of comfort, "they'll be round me like wasps round +a honey-pot. I wasn't clear last night, but Master Wheatman has decided +me. I ride into London in Highland dress." +</p> + +<p> +"I applaud the decision of Your Royal Highness," said the foxy secretary. +"It is a merited compliment to your brave clansmen." He afterwards ratted +and so helped to hang some of the best of them. +</p> + +<p> +"Now for your dispatch to the Marquis," said Charles, going towards the +secretary's papers. "There's time to look at it before Murray and his +supports arrive." O'Sullivan walked softly to one of the windows +overlooking the square, and we followed him. +</p> + +<p> +"Faith, Colonel," said he. "The game's up if we go on." +</p> + +<p> +"It is," said the Colonel, tapping at his box. "Damn this rappee, Oliver. +I'd as lief sniff at sawdust." +</p> + +<p> +"But if the Prince wants to go on, I back him up," added O'Sullivan. +</p> + +<p> +"So do I," said Sir Thomas. +</p> + +<p> +"So do I," echoed the Colonel, "but, damme, I shall tell him the precise +truth about the military aspect of the situation. One's my duty as a +soldier just as much as the other. I haven't the least objection to dying, +but be damned if I want my reputation to die with me. The most you can say +of rappee, Oliver, is that it's better than nothing." +</p> + +<p> +"That's just what I've been thinking, sir," said I, with equal gravity, +"about my old hat." +</p> + +<p> +"You're keeping that story for Margaret, you young dog, but she's bound +to tell me. I was out of bed till two o'clock this morning, listening to +her clatter about getting married quick, and walls of Troy, and ham and +eggs. She nearly prated the top of my head off, and did not kiss me +good-night till I'd told her for the seventeenth time that there was no +need to worry about you. Seventeen times"--a vigorous sniff and a merry +twinkle--"I counted 'em." +</p> + +<p> +It was obvious nonsense, but it pained me. +</p> + +<p> +"It was very kind of her, sir," I said at last. +</p> + +<p> +"Humph!" said he, and turned to talk with the Irishmen. I kept a sharp +look out on the square below, hoping for a glimpse of Margaret, paying no +heed to the earnest conversation buzzing in my ear. Princes and dominions, +and marches and battles, were nothing to me as I stood there fighting for +mastery over myself. +</p> + +<p> +I was pulled back from these slippery tracks of thought by the Colonel, +who gripped my arm and whispered, "Here they come, Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +I looked to the door and saw the chiefs filing into the room, led by +Murray, with the greater ones immediately behind him and the others in due +degree, till the room was fairly crowded. Charles continued his colloguing +with Mr. Secretary while they disposed themselves according to their rank +in council, though the Duke of Perth was pleased to take his stand on the +hearth among some of the smaller sort. Sir Thomas Sheridan and Colonel +O'Sullivan left us and seated themselves nearer the Prince, and when they +had done so, and while there was still some noisy settling down to be +done, I whispered to the Colonel, "Oughtn't I to go out now, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm for going on to London," said he, grinning at me with his eyes, +though he kept the face of a wooden image. "And first thing we do, Oliver, +we'll lead a desperate attack, you and I, on a tobacco-man's. Damme! +There's wagon-loads of Strasburg in London!" +</p> + +<p> +"Suppose I start off now, sir, and mark down one or two of the primest." +</p> + +<p> +"Suppose you stay where you are, lad," he replied. "You're here by +rights: first, because the Prince asked ye here and has not dismissed you, +and you never leave the presence of royalty till royalty kicks you out; +secondly"--pausing to take a pinch of rappee that would have lifted the +roof of my head off--"because you can't have less sense than some of these +chatterers. Council of war! Mob of parliament-men!" +</p> + +<p> +Thus it came about that, thanks to Swift Nicks, I was present at the +great council which was to decide the fate of the Stuarts. I pushed behind +the Colonel, so that I could now and again steal a peep for Margaret. Just +at the last minute, with Charles lifting his eyes up to begin, the door +opened again to admit Maclachlan, red with the haste he had been making. +It made me grit my teeth to see him, for I knew why he was so hot. He had +been fluttering around Margaret, and so had lost count of time. Then I +stopped my gritting and started grinning. Much Margaret would think of a +man who neglected his soldiering to dangle at her apron-strings! +</p> + +<p> +His Royal Highness, after his usual habit, opened the Council by stating +his own opinion. +</p> + +<p> +"I have called you together, gentlemen," he said, "to consider our next +step. The question is: Shall we march west, cut the Duke's forces in two, +and so beat him, or, shall we take advantage of the fact that we are +nearer London than he is, press on, and take possession of the Capital? I +am strongly for the second plan." +</p> + +<p> +"Damme, sir! Well put!" said the Colonel under his breath. And indeed it +was so well put that the chiefs looked rather hopelessly at one another, +for this was by no means the alternative that they had in mind. It was to +them, as soon appeared, no choice between south and west that they had +come to discuss, but the much more important choice between south and +north. For a minute or two there was a muttering of Gaelic, which the +Prince did not understand, at any rate, so far as the words were +concerned. Then Lord George Murray rose, bowed profoundly to the Prince, +and began the case for the chiefs. +</p> + +<p> +"The Duke of Cumberland," he said, "was that night at Stafford with an +army of ten thousand foot and two thousand horse. Mr. Wade was coming by +hard marches down the east road and could easily get between His Royal +Highness's army and Scotland. They had authentic news that an army was +being encamped on the north of London. If, then, they marched to London +they would have two armies in their rear and one in front of them, and, +high as he rated the valour and prowess of the army he had the honour, +under His Royal Highness, of commanding, it was vain to suppose that they +could defeat three armies each at least twice as numerous as they. None of +the advantages on which they had relied when they agreed to enter England +had been realized. They had received no accession of strength worth +considering from the English Jacobites; the population were not friendly +but at all times surly and neutral, and on all possible occasions openly +hostile; the promised French invasion had not even been attempted. +Scotland they had won for His Majesty and could and should keep it for +him. To do this required them to return with all speed and with +undiminished forces. On all these grounds he, and those for whom he spoke, +implored His Royal Highness to return thither and consolidate his forces +for a fresh attempt under more favourable conditions." +</p> + +<p> +His lordship had spoken calmly and with no outward sign of feeling except +that, as he got toward the end of his speech and his drift became open and +manifest, his voice gained more and more emphasis as he saw the +undisguised impatience and growing anger of Charles. The Prince paid no +courteous attention to the arguments of his chief military adviser, but +shot eager glances round the ring of faces, and particularly at His Grace +of Perth, who was visibly flattered by this mute appeal. The Colonel, who +noted all this by-play, was nettled by the Prince's indifference to +military authority, and whispered, "Well done, Geordie Murray! Right as a +trivet!" +</p> + +<p> +The speech done, the Prince struck his clenched fist on the table and +said, "I am for marching on London." +</p> + +<p> +It was plain, however, that the chiefs were against him almost to a man. +Murray was clearly in the right, and his military skill and experience +gave him great authority. As yet there was no open murmuring against the +Prince; nothing but manifest determination not to be won over by his +cajoleries or threats. +</p> + +<p> +"Why should we not go on?" demanded the Prince passionately. "Here we +are, masters of the heart of England. A quick, bold stroke, and London is +ours. The game is in our hands." +</p> + +<p> +"Game?" cried a rugged, headstrong chief, Macdonald of Glencoe. "The +game's up, sir, thanks to these beer-swilling English friends of your +house, who are Jacobites only round a cosy fire with mugs in their hands." +</p> + +<p> +"They are only awaiting an earnest of victory," said Charles. +</p> + +<p> +"Waiting for us to do the work," said Glencoe bitterly, "and then blithe +they'll be to hansel the profits. We can gang back to Scotland as quick as +we like when we've ance got London for 'em!" +</p> + +<p> +There was a growl of assent from the chiefs, but silence fell again when +the venerable Tullibardine, too racked with gout to stand, took up the +word. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke as one who had grown old and weary and poor in the service of +the exiled House. The conditions of success, he said, had always been the +same: the Highland adherents of His Majesty could never hope to be more +than the centre around which the real sources of strength, English support +and French aid, might gather; and these had failed now as they had failed +in '15. "I dare not," he concluded, "lift my voice to urge men to take +risks which I am too feeble to share." +</p> + +<p> +Charles put up a stout fight, but it was no use. Chief after chief had +his say, and then said it again and again. Maclachlan shifted from his +place near the door to the corner of the hearth and, after whispering a +while with the Duke of Perth, confusedly gave his opinion in favour of +going back. +</p> + +<p> +He was no sort of a speaker, being ill at ease, and plainly occupied in +rummaging about in his mind. Having wits, however, he stumbled on a new +line of argument. +</p> + +<p> +"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in. +There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, and +its moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising a +great army for the spring." +</p> + +<p> +"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him. +</p> + +<p> +Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefs +was a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action. +There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering and +incapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant in +dealing with a man by himself. +</p> + +<p> +Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to his +feet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He was +almost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, jutting +cheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like a +rat-trap. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If we +dinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barely +a dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' the +name, will ride on my back for the rest of my days." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye're in the right of it, Strowan," said my Lord Ogilvie. "There's too +few of us for this work, but a little peat will boil a little pot. Let us +gang back and raddle the Glasgow bodies. Ye hae my advice, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +Here the Prince, to my mind, made a fatal mistake. He had begun by trying +to carry matters merely by the weight of his royal authority. This was +ever his plan in council, and as long as things went well it served, since +the chiefs, looking forward as they then did to ultimate triumph, were not +willing to risk his displeasure by standing out against him. Now that they +were in a tight corner this cock would fight no longer, and he made +matters worse by appealing to the Irishman, O'Sullivan, for his opinion. +He briefly gave it in favour of going on. +</p> + +<p> +One tale will hold till another's told. O'Sullivan had a great reputation +as a master of the irregular mode of fighting, which must be adopted by an +army composed, like ours, of untrained men not equipped according to the +rules and requirements of soldiership. But my Lord George Murray was ready +for him. +</p> + +<p> +"Great as Colonel O'Sullivan's reputation is, sir," he said sweetly, "we +have with us in Colonel Waynflete another soldier of great distinction. +His views would be welcome, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, indeed," said the Prince eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +"For myself, sir," said the Colonel, snuff-box open in hand, for he had +been surprised with the rappee between his fingers, "I am ready to go on. +I came to serve your Royal Highness, and I serve my commander as he +chooses, not as I would choose myself. But when you ask me as to the +military result of going on, I tell you frankly, as becomes a soldier of +experience asked in Council to deliver his opinion, that it is idle to +expect this present force to get to London. As you get nearer London, sir, +the country becomes of a kind which your army could not successfully +operate in. It would be confined to roads lined with hedges and passing +through many defendable towns and villages. Your short, powerful charges +would be out of the question. The English as a whole fight well, no men +better; we can't rationally expect all of them to run off at a Highland +yell, and with the country in their favour and London behind them, a +source of constant fresh supplies to them, we should be wiped out in +detail. Your Royal Highness wishes to go on, and therefore I am willing to +go on, but your Royal Highness cannot capture London with the force at +your disposal." +</p> + +<p> +He finished and took his snuff with zest, seeing that it was still +rappee, and handed me the box with great composure. +</p> + +<p> +In all they talked and wrangled for three hours, and I got very tired of +it all and spent my time looking through the window for Margaret. There +would be no profit in setting down more of what was said. Indeed, no fresh +point was raised until the Prince argued vehemently in favour of turning +off for Wales, where his adherents were supposed to be very strong. +</p> + +<p> +This produced a fresh crop of speeches, all on one note--the necessity of +starting back for Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Perth had been silent so far. He had stood on the hearth, +near the fire, the warmth of which he stood greatly in need of, being +slight and weakly. He had turned his eyes from one speaker to another as +the debate went on, and had gently rubbed the back of his head against the +panelling, as if to stimulate thought. The speech of Colonel Waynflete +plainly had a great effect on him, and I could see that he was making up +his mind, for he continued the gentle rubbing of his head but took no note +of the wrangling and jangling about the Welsh project. The storm lulled, +for it had blown itself out. Everything sayable had been said times out of +number. +</p> + +<p> +"I am for marching back at once," he declared in a loud voice. +</p> + +<p> +I was heartily sorry for the Prince. In his mind's eye he had seen +himself in the palace of his fathers with a nation repentant at his feet. +He did not know England,--no Stuart ever did,--or he would have known that +the wave of chivalry that had carried him so far was bound to spend itself +on the indifferent English as a wave spends itself on the indifferent +sands. Yet it was hard to go back, hard to know that he had done so much +more than his grandfather in '89 or his father in '15, and done it in +vain. His standard was proudly flaunting in the heart of England over the +grave of his cause. +</p> + +<p> +But he died well. "Rather than go back," he cried, "I would wish to be +twenty feet under ground!" +</p> + +<p> +With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Council. +</p> + +<p> +"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I am +aide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the "Bald-Faced +Stag" in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should find +Margaret there, and Mr. Freake." +</p> + +<p> +I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr. Secretary, moved +thereto by the Prince, sidled up to me, his sly eyes overrunning the +outgoing chiefs as he came. He laid his hand on my arm, which gave me the +creeps, and said, "His Royal Highness would speak with you, sir." +</p> + +<p> +He sidled back again with me behind him, wondering how far one fair kick +would lift him. I stood stiff and awkward before the Prince, who, however, +addressed the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Your speech was a shrewd blow to me, Colonel. Nay, don't protest! You +did a soldier's duty by me in Council as you will do it in battle. I ask +no more." +</p> + +<p> +"And I shall do no less, sir," said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, give me a pinch of snuff, and I'll ask your advice on another +military point." +</p> + +<p> +This was the straight way to the Colonel's heart, taking snuff and +talking soldiership being to him the twin boons of life. +</p> + +<p> +Charles took his rappee thoughtfully and then said, "What is the best way +of dealing with a solid body of the enemy with inferior forces?" +</p> + +<p> +"Split 'em up and smash 'em in detail, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"What d'ye say to that, Tom Sheridan?" asked Charles. +</p> + +<p> +"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied Sir +Thomas. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, with +great good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning you +used to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatman +writhe to hear it. The only advantage I ever got out of being a Prince was +that old Tom here never dared thrash me for gulping up his rubbish." +</p> + +<p> +"Master Wheatman knows Latin enough to stock a couple of bishops, sir," +said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"The devil he does!" said Charles admiringly. "He'll come in handy for +writing me a letter to His Holiness." +</p> + +<p> +"It's not such bad stuff as all that, sir," said I, glad of a chance of +saying something, for I had been hurt to the quick by talk that reminded +me of how I had quizzed Jack's classics in Old Comfit's entry. +</p> + +<p> +"To come back to the Colonel's advice," said Charles. "I've split 'em up +and now I'm going to smash 'em in detail. We're not going back, sirs, if I +can help it. Master Wheatman,"--and here he naturally and unaffectedly +took on a princely tone--"we appoint you our assistant aide-de-camp, and +desire your attendance on our person during the day, under the more +immediate authority of our excellent friend, Colonel Waynflete." +</p> + +<p> +At a sign from the Colonel, which I was lucky enough to see the meaning +of, I dropped on my knee before the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Master Wheatman," said Charles, in his ordinary frank way, +when I rose. "You're worth a hundred rats like young Maclachlan." +</p> + +<p> +I coloured, partly with the praise and partly because I was wondering how +many Smite-and-spare-nots I was worth. +</p> + +<p> +I was then closely questioned about the lie of the land to the south of +Stafford and Derby. After a long consultation, the Prince dismissed me, +with a gracious invitation to be one of the Royal party at dinner, +promising me, with a sly smile, that the company should be to my liking. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel and I withdrew. In the corridor he put me in charge of an +upper servant of the household, and went to see to Sultan. +</p> + +<p> +My new acquaintance was an elderly man of a solemn, soapy aspect, set off +by a sober black livery and a neat wig. He took me up to a bedroom, and +saw to my comfort. +</p> + +<p> +"William, or whatever it is," I began. +</p> + +<p> +"William it is, sir," said he. +</p> + +<p> +"Do I look like an assistant aide-de-camp to a prince?" +</p> + +<p> +He took stock of me, from my dirty boots to my bare head, and then said +solemnly, "No, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"William," said I, "but that's precisely what I am." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir," he replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Therefore this is precisely your opportunity, William." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir," said he. +</p> + +<p> +"William," I went on insinuatingly, "I think you could, knowing this +house so intimately as you do, make me look something like an assistant +aide-de-camp to a prince. It's a tough job, William, but you'll do it. I +can see it in your eye. By virtue of the power adherent to the assistant +aide-de-camp of a prince, we hereby authorize you to do all things that +may be necessary for the accomplishment of our purpose, and, when your +task is over, you will, by a curious coincidence, find five guineas under +yon candlestick. Life, William, is full of coincidences." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"But not as full of guineas, William, as it should be. Set to work!" +</p> + +<p> +Instead of going he stood there, gently washing his hands with imaginary +soap and water, and finally said, "You will of course, sir, be very angry +if I do not do as you bid me." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall, William," said I, lathering away at my chin. +</p> + +<p> +"I may take it, sir, that you'll blow my brains out if I don't." +</p> + +<p> +"Blow your--Oh, I see! Certainly!" said I, tailing off from astonishment +into understanding. +</p> + +<p> +The quiet humour of the man was delightful. I fetched a pistol out of my +pocket and added gravely, "William, unless I am, in appearance as well as +in fact, a prince's assistant aide-de-camp in half an hour, I'll blow your +brains out. Now clear out, while I have a bath!" +</p> + +<p> +"Thankee, sir. It'll be all right now. My lord is, I should say, just of +a size with your honour." +</p> + +<p> +William was an artist and fitted me out with the nothing-too-much of +exact taste. There were garments by the score that would have made a +popinjay of me, but he knew better, and turned a sober young yeoman into a +sober young gentlemen, and there's no harder task, as I have frequently +observed since. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said he at length, stepping back a few paces to con me over, "in +any other man I should deplore the obstinacy-excuse my plainness, +sir--which declines to wear a wig, but the general result, the <i>tout +ensemble</i>, as my lord would put it, is agreeable." +</p> + +<p> +"William," I replied, "you err through ignorance--excuse my plainness, +William. The best Wheatman of the Hanyards that ever lived would have +burned at the stake rather than wear a wig. I've done most of the other +things he would have burned for, but I'll stick by him to this extent that +I'll be damned if I'll wear a wig." +</p> + +<p> +I never have, and it is no small measure due to me that the wearing of +wigs is being left to lawyers and doctors, who, I understand, find it pays +to look old and old-fashioned. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite so, sir! A very proper sentiment," said William, with his eye on +the candlestick. "It's family pride that keeps the great families agoing, +sir, and they're the backbone of the Constitution, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +After this high sentence, as I was ready to go, he gravely escorted me to +the door and bowed me out. I dropped my ear to the keyhole and heard the +chink of the guineas. William clearly had a very pretty appreciation of +the best means of keeping himself agoing. A suaver, defter rascal I have +never set eyes on. +</p> + +<p> +I had already so much of soldiership as to know that it is well to master +the ins and cuts and roundabouts of a strange house. If an emergency comes +it may be the best guide to action. "Know your ground and win your fight," +the Colonel used to say, and it's as true of a house as of a province. So +I walked softly and watchfully about, and in doing so had turned sharp to +the right to gain a view of the river and the gardens, when I came on the +Lady Ogilvie. She was kneeling on a cushioned settle, resting her chin in +her hands, and her elbows on the high back of the seat. +</p> + +<p> +She turned to see who it was. Her face was clouded over, but the sun of +her smile broke through in a flash, and she darted joyously at me. +</p> + +<p> +"It's the incomparable one!" she cried, bubbling over with merriment. +"Nay, I vow, it's the still more incomparable one. Losh, man, and ye look +bonny! I'm telling it ye, and I've seen more bonny men than you've seen +bullocks. Sit down and tell me where you've been and what you've done. +Davie says you tell't him I was very, very guid. And so I am," she ended +complacently, "and if any man says the differ...." +</p> + +<p> +"He'll do well to keep out of Davie's road and mine," I cut in, as I was +building up the cushions into a soft corner for her. +</p> + +<p> +"You're an unco' guid lad," she said, wriggling into her nest, "an' if it +werena for some one I ken I'd gie ye anither kiss." +</p> + +<p> +I willingly admit that I wished Davie far enough, for she was a very +dainty lady, with a mouth like an open rose-bud. +</p> + +<p> +We had a long talk, for I told her all about my doings with ghost, +thieves, thief-catchers, and baby Blount. She enjoyed it to the top of her +bent. Then, when I had come to the end of my tale, she sobered all of a +sudden, and said, "Oliver, what's going to happen to us?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"There's something in the wind I dinna like. Davie's a' for ganging back. +We women ought never to have come. Davie can think o' naething but me. As +if I mattered a tup's head, the silly gomeril, bless him! Now there's your +Maclachlan. He'd go to London if it was full o' deevils to fetch a +stay-lace for Margaret, but he's a' for the homeward gait too!" +</p> + +<p> +"The best military opinion is that it is hopeless to go on," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And I dinna think it's much better to gae back, laddie. It's a retreat. +Ca' it what you like, you can mak' nae ither thing of it, and these +Highland bodies, ance they retreat, will break to bits. Naething will keep +the main of 'em taegither, ance they cross the Highland line again. Sae +it's a black look out, Oliver, but I dinna mind ane wee bit. If I'd no +been a Jacobite, I'd never hae met my Davie yonder. He's worth it a', is +Davie." +</p> + +<p> +"It's a hard task for any man to be worthy of your ladyship," said I, +"but Davie's worthy if any man is." +</p> + +<p> +"And Davie reckons you're fine," she replied, smiling. "Margaret pit him +doon for three dances, and sat in a corner with him through 'em a'. I +wonder the incomparable one's lugs"--I knew what she meant because she +pinched one--"arena burnt off his head. You should hae seen Maclachlan +ranting and raving like an auld doited tup!" +</p> + +<p> +"It is pleasant to learn that Mistress Waynflete is so interested in my +doings," said I, with as much coolness and aloofness as I could muster. I +would at least keep my foolishness on my own side of my teeth. +</p> + +<p> +"Unco pleasant, I hae nae doot," was her dry comment. And she set her red +lips aslant as if she were swallowing vinegar. +</p> + +<p> +I remembered my new function, and looked at my watch. I had long overrun +the hour the Colonel had given me. +</p> + +<p> +"Your ladyship will pardon me," said I, springing up, "but I'm overdue +for duty." +</p> + +<p> +"Duty?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. His Royal Highness has appointed me assistant aide-de-camp to +himself." +</p> + +<p> +I spoke with much impressiveness but, to my chagrin, instead of the +congratulations that were my due on such an occasion, she looked concerned +and almost angry, and cried, "The very deil's in it!" +</p> + +<p> +"I am sorry your ladyship is displeased," I said coldly. Scot clings to +Scot, and she did not like it. +</p> + +<p> +"Displeased, ye daft gomeril!" she retorted. "And I suppose you'll be +pleased, and Margaret will shout for joy, if ye get a dirk in your +assistant aide-de-camp's ribs ane o' these fine nights. Just understand +ance for a', my friend, that a Highlander kills a man wi' as little +compunction as an Englishman squashes a beetle. There's nane o' your +law-and-order bodies beyont the Highland line." +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing but common murderers!" said I hotly. "I have heard much of the +virtues of the Highlanders of late, but this surprises me." +</p> + +<p> +"Hoots! Murderers?" she cried. "No such silly Saxon whimsies. They've got +as many virtues as any Englisher that ever snivelled prayer and shortened +yardstick. Murderers! Hoots, my mannie! Just removers of difficulties!" +</p> + +<p> +So she turned it off with a jest in her pretty way, and got up and jigged +along the corridor with me after her, longing to jig it with her, but +hobbled by my new dignity. I had no clear notion of an assistant +aide-de-camp's duties, but felt that they required a certain solemnity of +manner inconsistent with her ladyship's grasshopper ways. +</p> + +<p> +In the end, she dancing and I lumbering along, we came on a cheerful +group collected in the corridor below. There was the Prince, the Duke of +Perth, the Lord Ogilvie, the two Irishmen, Mr. Secretary, the Colonel, a +strange lady or two, and Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought your ladyship was lost," said Charles, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary, sir," she retorted, "I was found." +</p> + +<p> +"The usual explanation," he commented lightly. +</p> + +<p> +"A most unusual explanation, sir," she countered deftly, "for Mr. +Wheatman has been explaining how it came to pass that he kissed a ghost." +</p> + +<p> +"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone. +</p> + +<p> +"It wasna necessary," she said airily. +</p> + +<p> +"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amused +by the dialogue. +</p> + +<p> +"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not the +advantage of knowing Master Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on, +"I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman of +the Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from the +gentry of his shire." +</p> + +<p> +It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentried +me in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack in +my coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himself +singularly graceful. +</p> + +<p> +There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Prince +with one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formal +pairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was coming +for Margaret, and thus left her to me. +</p> + +<p> +She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked at +me, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, Sir +Kiss-the-ghost!" +</p> + +<p> +"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly. +</p> + +<p> +She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly, +"Sensible ghost!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> + +<h3>MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST</h3> + +<p> +Dinner was a success from the Prince's point of view. The Duke was +completely won over to the idea of our going on, and even the Lord Ogilvie +at one time wavered before the Prince's onslaught. The Irishmen were +strongly in favour of it, and Mr. Secretary, when thawed by wine, grew +expansive over its advantages. I incline to think that the rascal had +ratted already, and was anxious to get all he could out of the Government +by leading the Prince into a trap. Trap it would have been, as Culloden +plainly showed. Against English regular soldiers, resolutely led, the +Highlanders would work no more miracles. +</p> + +<p> +So for a space the chatter and laughter went on. Charles was already in +St. James's, and the ladies were already queening it in the new Court over +the renegade beauties of the old one. Even Margaret caught some of the +enthusiasm, so that I whispered to her, "You beat our Kate at counting +your unhatched chickens." +</p> + +<p> +Whereat she sobered all of a sudden, and whispered, "Maybe you are right, +Oliver!" +</p> + +<p> +"I hope for your sake they are true prophets," I said. "I should dearly +like to see you a marchioness before I go back to my farming." +</p> + +<p> +"That's one of the chickens I've not counted," she said. +</p> + +<p> +She looked at me very steadily, and then turned and plunged into the +stream of conversation flowing around her. +</p> + +<p> +Her father had steered clear of all awkward topics, taking for granted +that we were going on. Charles got less cautious as he got surer, and +moreover, as I could not but observe, he was mellowing somewhat under the +brandy he was drinking. Princes commonly have no judgment of men, having +never the need of noting their humours in order to mould them to their +will. So now Charles bluntly attacked the Colonel again on the military +aspect of the situation, which was merely butting against a stone wall. +</p> + +<p> +"You must remember, Colonel," he said, "that my Highlanders have driven +the English soldiery before them like sheep. They wiped out an army of +them at Gladsmuir in less than fifteen minutes, and only lost thirty men +killed in doing it." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said the Colonel, "give me one thousand English soldiers for a +week and I'll pit them against any thousand Highlanders you like to bring +against 'em." +</p> + +<p> +"Then it's a good job you're on my side," said Charles. +</p> + +<p> +"It is indeed, sir," said the Colonel, very quietly, "and under favour, +sir, you will be well advised to have your troops exercised in the best +ways of charging men who don't mean to run from them. There's no military +science wanted to beat men who run away from you as soon as you attack. As +I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance, +throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he +catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather shield, +where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife +through a cheese." +</p> + +<p> +"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command +against you." +</p> + +<p> +There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the +Prince poured out his third glass of brandy. Everybody was intent on the +dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the +napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure +in a Euclid book. +</p> + +<p> +"How would you stop it, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy. +</p> + +<p> +"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently. +</p> + +<p> +"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more +important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I only answer, as in the presence of God, for myself," said he +piously. +</p> + +<p> +"Leaving God to look after Mr. Secretary," said Charles, banging his +empty glass on the table. "I'll answer for the rest. So get on with your +plan, Colonel." +</p> + +<p> +"His Royal Highness has selected the easier task," whispered Margaret in +my ear. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir," began the Colonel, "I should say to my men: 'When the +Highlanders charge, take no notice of the man who is coming straight at +you. Keep your eye on his left-hand man, who is coming at your right-hand +man. Don't fire at him till you can see the whites of his eyes, and if you +don't bring him down with the bullet, have at him and thrust your bayonet +into his right ribs. There's no buckler there, and his right arm will be +up to strike. The man coming at you will be attended to in the same way by +your left-hand man.' After a week's practice in that little trick, sir, I +should face any charge your Highlanders liked to make, and would bet a +thousand guineas to this pinch of rappee--poor stuff as it is--on stopping +'em dead in their tracks." +</p> + +<p> +"By gad! and so you would, sir!" said my Lord Ogilvie explosively. +</p> + +<p> +"It sounds feasible," said old Sir Thomas, "but fortunately Colonel +Waynflete is with us, and can teach us new tricks." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course he can," said Charles. "What do you say, Master Wheatman? You +know him." +</p> + +<p> +"That old poachers make the best gamekeepers, sir," I answered. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Nom de chien</i>," cried the Colonel, twirling fiercely round on me. +Margaret, who sat between us, laughingly pretended to protect me from him, +and he thrust his snuff-box across at me. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince rose, and, followed by Murray, left the room. We all stood +gossiping together. Ogilvie and O'Sullivan talked very earnestly about the +Colonel's trick. His Grace of Perth ogled Margaret off towards the window +on pretence of showing her some sight of interest in the square. +</p> + +<p> +"Did they leave him in the lurch?" twittered a voice mockingly in my ear. +It was my lady Ogilvie. +</p> + +<p> +"It must be nice to be with a duke," said I, very glum and miserable +again all of a sudden. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a great deal nicer to be with a man," she answered. "Come and help +me throw crumbs to the pretty wee birdies in the garden." +</p> + +<p> +In his attempt to 'smash 'em in detail' the Prince was acute enough to +use the Colonel, and condescending enough to use me, as supporters. The +unrivalled military skill which the Colonel would devote to the winning of +London was dwelt upon until even the Colonel, in no wise inclined to +under-estimate it, got restive, and snuffed and pshawed with great vigour. +I, of course, was the early, strong-winged swallow that announced the +flights of laggards behind. +</p> + +<p> +There were some dozen chiefs of considerable position in the Prince's +army, and he tackled them one by one, and tried to argue them into his way +of thinking. Some he sent for to his lodging; others he visited in theirs--a +special but wasted mark of distinction. On the whole they would not +budge. They were courteous and respectful, for they were gentlemen, and he +was their Prince, but their minds were made up and they would not +surrender their wills to his. Mostly, in their talk, they simply chewed +over again the morning's cud. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Secretary went off as envoy to fetch the chiefs to Exeter House, +where the Prince received them in his little private chamber overlooking +the gardens. He would stand, silent and moody, glowering out of the +window, with the Colonel and me standing silent and thoughtful behind him. +I felt keenly for him, for he was indeed a gracious, likeable young +fellow, born to purple poverty and a shadowy princedom, and now, as he +thought, with the reality of wealth and power snatched out of his grasp. +</p> + +<p> +"If we go back," said he, turning his eyes on me, so that I saw how life +and light had quite gone out of them, "it's all over with my House." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope not, sir," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"I know it is," he cried bitterly, almost rudely. "All over with us--and +all over with me. If we go on, I shall at the worst go to my grave strong +and sweet. If we go back--" +</p> + +<p> +He paused and looked moodily out of the window. I think now, as I picture +him to myself standing there, that he knew himself well enough to know +what was coming. For another picture of him comes to my mind, as I saw him +in Rome many years later, and shuddered as I saw him. +</p> + +<p> +He turned and smiled at me, as one smiles who sips sour wine. +</p> + +<p> +"If we go back, friend Wheatman, I shall just rot into it." +</p> + +<p> +He spoke truth. I saw him rotting. + +And then, because he had more stuff in him than any other royal Stuart +that ever lived, he turned round, proud and princely, as the door opened +and in came Mr. Secretary with Macdonald of Glencoe, a short-horned bull +of a man. +</p> + +<p> +"And when was it," said he, rapping the words out like hammer-strokes on +an anvil, "that the Macdonalds got feart?" +</p> + +<p> +The Chief pulled up short, hit clean and hard between the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye'll never see a feart Macdonald," he said, "if ye live to be as auld +as Ben Nevis." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye're in the wrong, Glencoe," said Charles. "I saw one this morning, and +he was frightened of the English." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll gie ye the lie o' that," roared Glencoe, "if I hae to scrat my way +into London wi' ma nails." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll be glad of the lie from you on those terms," replied Charles +calmly, "and you shall ride into London at my right hand while I take my +words back." +</p> + +<p> +The Prince went to a table and filled a silver-gilt tass with brandy. He +sipped it and then, handing it to the Chief, said, "We'll share the same +glass to-day, Glencoe, as a pledge that we'll share the same victory +to-morrow." +</p> + +<p> +I did not like his brandy-drinking, but he did it well this time. As I +have said, he was at his best in dealing with a single man face to face. +It is only the rarest and finest spirits that can dominate a crowd. +</p> + +<p> +At a sign from the Prince the Colonel and I escorted the Chief to the +door, bestowing on him, as was due and politic, every courtesy. He looked +like a man who, after days of doubt, had newly found himself. +</p> + +<p> +"We've got him!" cried Charles gleefully as the door closed behind him. +"Now, gentlemen, I crave your attendance on a progress round the town. Mr. +Wheatman, bear our compliments to my Lord Elcho, and bid him call out some +score or so of our guards to escort us." +</p> + +<p> +We made a gallant show as we walked the streets of Derby in the early +grey of that December evening. Ahead of us went a dozen dismounted +life-guards to clear the causeways. Then followed Mr. Secretary with a +brace or two of town notables unwillingly yoked to the task of giving an +appearance of local support; then followed the Prince, between O'Sullivan +and the Colonel, with young Clanranald and me at their heels; and another +dozen life-guards in the rear. As we passed along the causeways, a score +or so of mounted guards, with Lord Elcho at their head, kept level with us +in the roadways. Volleys of slogans greeted us wherever we went, for the +town was full to bursting of the clansmen. The townsmen crowded to doors +and windows to watch us pass. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince doffed to them every other yard, but he and all of us were +mere curiosities to most of them. +</p> + +<p> +The progress was stayed at the "White Horse" in Sadler-gate, and the +Prince, with us, his immediate attendants, turned into the inn-yard, with +its long uneven lines of stables and coach-houses, all packed with +Camerons. At the news of the Prince's coming they trooped out, yelling +lustily. Some sort of order was formed, and the Prince walked up and down +among the swaying, uncouth masses, with a cheery smile on his face, and +with now and again a phrase of their own Gaelic on his lips. +</p> + +<p> +"The men are keen enough," he said to the Colonel apart. "Let us go +within and see what mood young Lochiel is in now." +</p> + +<p> +Lochiel, 'young' only by way of distinction from a Lochiel still older, +wanted no digging out, for, the news having been carried to him, he ran +out bareheaded and breathless. He was, in fact, a middle-aged gentleman, +broody and melancholy at times, as these men of the mountains are apt to +be when they've got brains. At the Council he had been silently set on +going back. +</p> + +<p> +"Your men are in fine fettle, Lochiel," said Charles, "and as keen as +their claymores to be at it." +</p> + +<p> +"They dinnae see the hoodie-craws gathering for the feast," said Lochiel +sombrely. +</p> + +<p> +"They see the battle won and the spoils of victory, after the usual way +with the Camerons," replied the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +"They havenae the gift of far-seeing," said the Chief, gloomily proud of +his own prophetic powers. +</p> + +<p> +Charles started impatiently, and there would have been a wrangle but for +the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said he, addressing the Prince, "you will forgive an old +campaigner for being a stickler for the rules and procedures of military +operations. An inn-yard, with soldiery around and townsfolk gaping through +doors and windows, is no place for a council of war. The gentleman is +pleased to dream, of birds, as I gather. Let him back to the fireside and +dream of them in peace." +</p> + +<p> +Without another word the Prince turned on his heel and strode out of the +yard. I attended him at first, but missed the Colonel, and turned back to +him, for Lochiel was all a Highlander, seer one minute and savage the +next. Indeed, I found him, all his moodiness gone, as mad as a hatter. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll hae the heart's blood o' ye for this, prince or no prince," he +bawled at the Colonel, who, precisely as I expected, was seizing the +welcome opportunity of having a pinch of snuff. +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad!" said he, holding out the box, as indifferent to the crowding +Camerons as if they were sheep. "Make it pigeons next time, Mr. Lochiel. +Damme, Oliver, this rappee gets unendurable." +</p> + +<p> +His coolness took Lochiel off the boil, and he and I passed out without +another word into Sadler-gate and hurried after the Prince. We found the +progress somewhat ragged, and, as we were only a few yards from the corner +of Rotten Row, which forms the side of the square opposite Exeter House, +it was, I suppose, hardly worth while to trim it into shape again. In +those few yards, however, an incident much more to my liking occurred, for +just as we turned round the leading file of the rear of guards, we found +that the Prince had again halted, in the light of a shop-window, and this +time it was to talk to Margaret, who was standing there with Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +It was a large shop with two well-stocked bow-windows. The doorway +between them, and half the inwards of the shop, were filled with the shop +master, his apprentices, and customers, crowding and craning to get a +sight of the Prince. Over the door was a shield-shaped sign, bearing the +Derby ram for cognizance, and the legend, "Martin Moyle, Grocer and +Italian Warehouseman." I noted it then, because the word 'Italian' carried +me back to Margaret's tirra-lirring, and I note it down now because, +having looked at it, my eyes ranged over the heads of the gapers in the +doorway to where Maclachlan, on the fringe of the group, was dodging about +to find a place where he could see Margaret without being seen by the +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake was talking with the Prince as composedly as if they had +been friends of old standing. We had missed the beginning of their talk, +but it was plain that Charles had expected a recruit and was disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +"And why do you stand aside from us both?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said the sedate merchant, "I am not interested in making kings." +</p> + +<p> +"What then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Kingdoms, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Kingdoms!" cried the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +"Kingdoms!" reiterated Master Freake, with pride and emphasis. "But for +me, and men like me, this country would be a waste not worth fighting for." +</p> + +<p> +The Prince looked with astonishment at the calm, solid man who made this +strange announcement. After a minute's reflection, he said, "Mr. Freake, I +would talk with you in private, if you will." +</p> + +<p> +"With pleasure, sir," replied Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"And, naturally, Mistress Waynflete will not be cruel," continued the +Prince, offering his arm. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret took it, and the procession moved on again. Master Freake linked +his arm in mine, and we walked on together. +</p> + +<p> +"You've had adventures, I hear, since we parted, Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +"I fell into the claws of poetic justice," I answered, "and, having +failed as a real highwayman, nearly hanged as an imaginary one." +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. "Well, keep out of the sergeant's claws. He's only five miles +off with a brace of his dragoons, but little Dot is watching him. The time +to deal with him is not yet. Wait till his lordship of Brocton joins him. +What do you think of the Prince?" +</p> + +<p> +"I would not have believed a prince could be so likeable, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"I am, and shall remain, a mere observer," he said, "a mere tracker-down +of ten per cent on good security, but I don't mind admitting that, prince +for prince, I prefer this young gentleman to the fat, snuffy, waddling, +little drill-sergeant he's trying to displace." +</p> + +<p> +"You know the King, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, and I know his weak spot, too, which is more important for our +purposes. If His Gracious Majesty went to bed to-night with as many +guineas in his pocket as that"--he jingled his loose coin vigorously--"he'd +sleep in his breeches." +</p> + +<p> +On the way to Exeter House the Prince recovered his high spirits, and +even kept us waiting in the hall while he continued some lightsome +argument Margaret had led him into. At last he broke it off, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Freake will think me an idle princeling for this, madam," he said. +"For your offence in thus hindering our matters of state we commit you to +ward, and straightly charge our loyal subject, Master Wheatman, to hold +you safe in keeping till after supper, when we will undertake to show you +that our Highland reel can be as graceful as your Italian fandango." +</p> + +<p> +So, in great good humour, he went off with the Colonel and Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Your aide-de-camp's commission runs so far, I trust," said Margaret +demurely, "as to permit me to choose my own cell." +</p> + +<p> +"I think that might be allowed, madam," I replied, with answerable +gravity, "but of course I must sit outside the door and keep strict watch +over you." +</p> + +<p> +"You would, I suppose, feel surer of me if you sat inside the door?" +</p> + +<p> +"Naturally, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"Then come along! I must know all that's knowable about that ghost. 'I +never said any such thing,' quoth he! You're the cleverest man with your +tongue I ever met, Oliver. And with what a pretty heat he said it! Just +as, beyond a doubt, he did it with that pretty way he has." +</p> + +<p> +If words were tones, and smiles, and eye-flashes, and lip-curlings, I +could tell you not only what Margaret said but how she said it, and how, +in saying it, she made mad sweet music ring within me. +</p> + +<p> +We were out in the square again now, threading our way among people I +hardly saw for being so wrapt up in her. +</p> + +<p> +"Was she a pretty ghost?" +</p> + +<p> +"Very," said I decidedly. +</p> + +<p> +"How old was she?" +</p> + +<p> +"Eighteen, or thereabouts." +</p> + +<p> +"Eighteen! Oh, dear! I never dreamed it was as bad as that. I think +kiss-giving and kissable ghosts over thirteen ought not to be allowed. +Eighteen! It's a clear incitement to suicide!" +</p> + +<p> +I was laughing at her whimsical sally when one particular item in the +crowd demanded attention, for it obtrusively barred our way. It was +Maclachlan, once again hot and red with haste, waving a small package he +had in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye left me, Mistress Margaret," he said. "I've been searching high and +low for ye." +</p> + +<p> +"And I'm glad you've found me, for I see you've got me the olives. You +are indeed kind, Mr. Maclachlan." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye left me!" he repeated passionately. +</p> + +<p> +"That's true," she said lightly. "I forgot all about you till I saw a +hand with an obvious bottle of olives dangling from it." +</p> + +<p> +Now this was not Margaret, or at least it was another strange side of +her. With me she had been almost absurdly grateful for such little +services as I had rendered. I had got her eggs, as he had got her olives, +but I and my eggs had not been received like this. I looked from one to +the other curiously. She was cool and smiling, as befitted some small +social occasion. He was just as clearly throbbing with passion. He, the +Maclachlan, had been neglected, and neglected for me! I wondered why +Margaret did not tell him that the Prince had commanded her company. That +should have satisfied even him; but no, she left him in his error, and +merely took the olives out of his hand, saying, "I hope they'll be fresh, +though it's hardly to be expected in a little town in the middle of +England." +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan had paid not the slightest attention to me and, while ready +enough to deal with him, I paid none to him, and began to think him +somewhat of an ass to be standing in the market-place of Derby airing his +passions. Fortunately, perhaps, Lord George Murray, striding by towards +Exeter House, caught sight of us and stopped abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha' ye made a' right at the bridge yonder, Maclachlan?" +</p> + +<p> +The young Chief's face supplied the answer. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye havenae!" stormed Murray. "By gad, sir," lugging out his watch, "if +you don't, in two hours from now, report all arrangements made, I'll hae +ye shot by a squad of the Manchester ragabushes. Aff wi' ye, ye jawthering +young fule!" +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan went off without so much as a bow to Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you taken out your commission, sir?" said Murray to me, snapping +the words out as though he would have them shear my head off. +</p> + +<p> +"I have, my lord," I answered, forestalling the words with a correct +military salute. +</p> + +<p> +"Then what the blazes are you doing here?" +</p> + +<p> +"My lord," I answered firmly, "by the direct commission of His Royal +Highness, given to me personally, I am escorting this lady to jail." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll forgive ye!" he retorted, and his strong face lost all its +anger and found the wraith of a smile. "Dinnae be too hard on the lassie! +She's ane of the right sort." +</p> + +<p> +He returned my salute, bowed courteously to Margaret, and strode on +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad!" said Margaret, happily mimicking her father. "You shall have +some of the olives in a minute or two." +</p> + +<p> +"Olives seem to me precisely the right thing for us," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"And why, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +It was very curious to me to see how, in her speech to me, she whipped +about from the familiar "Oliver" to the stately "Sir." There was always a +reason for it, and I would have given much to know it. +</p> + +<p> +"Your olives come from Italy, and I have been thinking of your Italian +count." +</p> + +<p> +"So have I," she said very soberly, and never said another word till we +were safe and quiet in her day-room at the "Bald-Faced Stag." +</p> + +<p> +For over two hours I had Margaret to myself, and we were as happy and +companionable as we had been in Dick Doley's cottage. And at this I +marvelled. Our Kate was the only woman I had to judge by, and when our +Kate got into her very best Sunday gown she got into her tantrums along +with it, and poor Jack, what with awe of her finery and anxiety lest he +should anger the minx, commonly had a thorny time of it. With Margaret it +was just the opposite. When we got in, she excused herself and went off to +her own room, coming back, after a weary time, in such a glory of silks +and satins that I blinked my eyes before her dazzlements. What made it +worse was that there was a comb--as she called it, though I should in my +ignorance have thought it some rich and rare work in filigree belonging to +an empress--which, owing to the smallness of her mirror and the poor +light, she could not get to sit perfectly in its golden cushion, and I was +bidden to put it where and as it ought to be. I was a long time over the +task, in part because I was really clumsy, but mainly because I was in no +hurry. I got it right at last, and even ventured, very craftily and +lightly, to kiss it as it lay there. +</p> + +<p> +"It's quite right now," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"At last! I'm afraid it's been a trouble to you. Now, Oliver, open the +bottle of olives, and, while we eat them, tell me all about the ghost." +</p> + +<p> +Many a time in the hard days that came to me later, I refreshed my soul +by thinking those happy hours over again. They are part of me, but no part +of my story, and I make no record of them here. We had long talks, with +long silences between them, as can only happen with very real friends who +are company for one another without a clatter of words. +</p> + +<p> +At last this golden time came to an end, for in walked the Colonel and +Master Freake to supper. +</p> + +<p> +"I am thankful," said the Colonel to Margaret. "Murray told me you'd been +taken to jail." +</p> + +<p> +"You heard the news with great content, I suppose," said Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"I did, because--" He stopped to frown into the snuff-box. +</p> + +<p> +"Because of what? Pray observe, gentlemen, what an affectionate father I +have!" +</p> + +<p> +"Because he also told me the name of your jailer!" +</p> + +<p> +"You don't deserve to have a daughter," declared Margaret, with such a +pretence of vehemence that her cheeks, between and beneath her coils of +yellow hair, blazed like two poppies in a wheat-shook. +</p> + +<p> +"I've made up for it by deserving something even better, and that's a +good supper. Pull the bell, Oliver!" +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +Arrived in the great chamber at Exeter House, we found Charles making his +last stand. Feeling ran riot; there was little regard for the regentship +of the Prince; true to itself to the end, the Stuart cause was dying in a +babel of broken counsels. +</p> + +<p> +The ladies of the party were collected, uncertain and disquieted, on the +hearth, where Margaret joined them, while the Colonel and I made our way +and stood behind the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +"His Grace of Perth desires to go on," said Charles. "So does Glencoe. So +do my faithful Irish friends. Your men, as you well know, expect to go on. +To get them to go back, you must start in the dead of night and lie to +them, telling them they are going on. Only you, their chiefs and fathers, +want to go back." +</p> + +<p> +"To hell with the Irish!" cried one from the background. "They're no' +worth the dad of a bonnet." +</p> + +<p> +"It's no matter to them," said another man by him. "They've neither haid +nor maid to lose." +</p> + +<p> +This fetched O'Sullivan to his feet in a tearing rage. "We've got lives +to lose," he cried, "and, by G--, we're not afraid to lose 'em!" +</p> + +<p> +At this the yelling must have been heard in the square, and the +gesticulating and grimacing would have been amusing on a less serious +occasion. At last, in a lull in the gale, the Colonel, addressing the +Prince, curtly demanded, "Who is the chief military commander of your +army, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"My Lord George Murray," answered Charles bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +"Then it's time your commander commanded. This spells disaster whether we +go on or go back." +</p> + +<p> +"It's the plain truth you're telling, Colonel Waynflete," said Lord +Ogilvie loudly. In an undertone I heard him say, "Oot wi' it, Geordie!" +</p> + +<p> +When Murray arose, everybody knew the finishing touch was to be put to +the business, and a strained silence fell on the assembly. +</p> + +<p> +"I have advised ye to go back, sir," he said, "because, in the complete +absence of the support we were led to expect, it is foolish to go on. Your +Royal Highness wants to go on, and there's not a man here who does not +honour you for your courage. Now, sir, I will go on, and so shall every +man here I can command or influence, if those who hae tell't ye behind my +back that they think we ought to go on will put their opinion down in +writing and subscribe their names to it, here and now. One condition more, +sir. That writing, so subscribed, shall be sent by a sure hand direct from +this town to His Majesty in Rome, so that he may judge each man justly." +</p> + +<p> +"I agree," said Charles eagerly. "Pen and paper, Mr. Secretary!" +</p> + +<p> +It at once became clear, however, that Murray had taken the measure of +the men he had to deal with. +</p> + +<p> +"Why make flesh of one and fish of another?" asked O'Sullivan, and old +Sir Thomas nodded approval of the question. +</p> + +<p> +"The decision should be the decision of the Council," said the Duke of +Perth. +</p> + +<p> +"Will ye write your names to it, or will ye not?" demanded Murray. +</p> + +<p> +No one spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"That settles it, sir," said Murray. "But I desire you, Mr. Secretary, to +make a note of my offer and its reception." +</p> + +<p> +"Have your way!" said Charles, in sullen anger. "But it settles another +thing for ye. I call no more councils." +</p> + +<p> +He turned and strode out of the room. The Stuart cause was in its coffin, +and it only remained for us to give it a fair burial. +</p> + +<p> +When the door closed behind the Prince, the Colonel whispered in my ear, +"Slip off and tell Freake!" +</p> + +<p> +I did the journey at a run, and found Master Freake sitting, quietly +meditative, but booted and spurred for his journey. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Oliver?" +</p> + +<p> +"We go back to-night." +</p> + +<p> +In five minutes I was standing in the Ironmarket at his grey mare's head. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not deserting you, lad," said he, gripping my hand heartily. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course not, sir. Good-bye, and good luck!" +</p> + +<p> +"My love to Margaret. Look out for the sergeant. Good-bye!" +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2> + +<h3>A BROTHER OF THE LAMP</h3> + +<p> +Two days afterwards, towards six o'clock on a bitter evening, I rode +wearily into Leek. I was having a hard apprenticeship in soldiering under +a master who had no idea of sparing either me or himself. For the Colonel +had accepted the post of second, under Murray, in command of our +rear-guard, and had made it a condition of acceptance that I should be +with him. Some thirty Highlanders, mostly Macdonalds, picked dare-devils, +had been mounted and turned into dragooners, and I, thanks to the Colonel, +had been made Captain over them. +</p> + +<p> +"The lad's no experience, but he's got sense," he said to my lord George +Murray. +</p> + +<p> +"I ken him weel aneugh," said his lordship. "He threatened to knock my +head off. D'ye ca' that sense, Kit Waynflete?" +</p> + +<p> +"Since your head's still on your shoulders," said the Colonel, fumbling +for his snuff, "I do. He knocked Maclachlan's Donald into a log of timber, +and, damme, I hardly saw his hand move." +</p> + +<p> +"That's only a trick, sir," I protested. +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, Captain Wheatman," said Murray, "keep your ugly English tricks to +y'rsel. Mind ye, colonel or no colonel, I'll break ye first chance ye gie +me." +</p> + +<p> +Maclachan was, I must say, very obliging and complimentary over my +promotion. He gave me Donald to be my sergeant and personal servant, +finding him, how I knew not, a horse strong enough to carry him easily. +</p> + +<p> +"It is ferra guid," said Donald to his chief. "Er shall pe lookit to as +if her were ma mither's own son." +</p> + +<p> +To me, Captain Wheatman, clinking about in the corridor waiting for the +Colonel, comes William, suave and confidential as ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, William," said I. "Any more coincidences?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir," said he, and began his hand-washing. +</p> + +<p> +"You'll die a rich man, William." +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir. This particular coincidence made me the poorer by, I should +say," suspending his washing to calculate, "some five shillings." +</p> + +<p> +"The devil it did! How was that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Your honour's clothes that you left behind, sir, when you were +transmuted, as my lord would say, were stolen." +</p> + +<p> +"And you value them at five shillings! I ought to crack your head for you." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir. Cast-offs sells very cheap, sir. But the coincidence, sir! +I've not really come to that yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Go on, William! You interest me deeply." +</p> + +<p> +"I found them, sir, at the bottom of the garden, torn to rags, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"And sold 'em for fivepence! Eh, thrifty William?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sixpence, to be exact, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel rushed me off, but I found time to give the rascal a crown, +which put him sixpence in pocket. A servant ought to have his vails, and, +besides, William's concern amused me a good crown's worth. +</p> + +<p> +This was late on in the night after the final decision to go back, and +since then I had been scouting miles behind the main body of our +rear-guard, so as to make sure that the Duke's horse were not on our +track. I had slept by driblets as opportunity offered. Now, my purpose +accomplished, I was looking forward to supper and bed, having left a +patrol of fresh men some six miles back to watch the southern road. +</p> + +<p> +There was one thing in my mind, however, that must be attended to first. +I must see Mistress Hardy of Hardiwick. My heart ached for her, for I knew +how sorely she would feel the retreat of the Prince. Moreover, the +clansmen were not likely to discriminate between her and other townsfolk, +and I would save her from disturbance. So, jumping off the sorrel, and +giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I +was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly +behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"You've no need to trouble, Oliver," she said. "I've kept a room for you +at the 'Angel.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," I replied. "You are very kind, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes +open to look at me. Come along, sir!" She was merrily pulling at my arm as +she spoke. "I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you +know, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, madam! Certainly not." +</p> + +<p> +"No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very +last resource." +</p> + +<p> +"Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I +shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must +see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch." +</p> + +<p> +"We'll go together!" said Margaret, putting her arm in mine. +</p> + +<p> +The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed. +I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman +appeared, candle in hand. +</p> + +<p> +"I knew you'd come, sir," she said simply. "And this is your lady! Come +in!" +</p> + +<p> +Candle in hand, she paced ahead of us to the door of the room, and then +stood aside, erect and solemn, to let us pass in. I looked at her closely. +The worried, anxious look on her comely face had gone, and she was +subdued, calm, and happy. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God!" she whispered. "She's at peace!" +</p> + +<p> +I stepped ahead of Margaret into the fine old room, with its pleasant +memorials of ancientry. There they were, just as I had seen them--scutcheon, +portrait, glove, and pounce-box. There was no change in them; +they were the abiding elements on which a strong soul had kept itself +strong. But change there was. At the <i>prie-Dieu</i>, kneeling in a +rapture before the Virgin Mother, was a solemn, black-robed priest. A +narrow white bed was in the room. Two large candles burned steadily at its +head, two at the foot; and on the bed, the linen turned down to reveal the +thin, frail hands crossed below the Prince's brooch, lay the still, white +form of our lady of the square. God had taken her to Himself. Death had +caught her with a welcoming smile on her face, and, in pity and ruth, had +left it there. +</p> + +<p> +The Hardys of Hardiwick had given their last gift to the cause. +</p> + +<p> +Tears were streaming down Margaret's cheeks. With shaking hands she +removed her hat and, kneeling down at the bedside, clasped her hands in +prayer. +</p> + +<p> +"She talked no end about you, sir," whispered the serving-woman, "and +about the beautiful lady with you. That standing in the cold square to see +the Prince was the death of her. She would have her bed put down here, +sir. She wanted to die here, with the old shield in her eyes, for she was +proud of her blood, as well she might be." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," I whispered back. "She was the last of a great race." +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, sir. She was that. She was a bit moithered in her mind, dear heart, +just afore she went. The last words she said were a prayer for his soul,--her +sweetheart you know, sir, that she lost sixty years ago,--just as +I'd heard her pray thousands of times. But, poor thing, she got his name +wrong. She called him 'John.'" +</p> + +<p> +Choking, I threw myself on my knees beside Margaret, and prayed and +fought, and fought and prayed again. Here, before me, I saw Death in the +only shape in which it can give no sorrow--sinless age that had gently +glided into immortality; and, with equal vision, I saw the black +passage ... and the still twisted thing lying there in a patch of +gloom ... my friend, gone in the pride of his youth ... his life spilt out +in anger and agony ... and by me. Then the innocent hand of her for whom, +though all unwittingly, I had done this thing, crept on to my shoulder, +and I turned to look at her. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God we came, Oliver!" she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +Before we could rise, the black-robed priest lifted his tall, gaunt frame +slowly from the <i>prie-Dieu</i>. Standing on the opposite side of the bed +he raised his hands in blessing. +</p> + +<p> +"Our sister is with God," he said, his deep voice vibrant with emotion. +"My children, you are, as I think, those who were much in her prayers at +the last. I know not who you are, but, in her memory and in God's name, I +give you in this life His Peace, and in the life to come the assurance of +His Everlasting Blessedness. Amen." +</p> + +<p> +He ceased. Gravely, and in a solemn silence, he knelt again at the +<i>prie-Dieu</i>. We rose. First Margaret, and then I, kissed the Prince's +brooch and the folded hands, and then stole out of the room. We were too +awe-stricken to speak, or even to look at each other, but, as we went, she +placed her hand in mine. +</p> + +<p> +Weary days, full of hard riding and scouting, passed before I saw +Margaret again. I was always in the rear, generally far in the rear, while +she and the other ladies were, very properly, kept well ahead. She now +rode in the calash with Lady Ogilvie,--the two being inseparable,--and +Maclachlan was with them. My work was hard and anxious but it kept me from +thinking overmuch. I put all my soul into it so that it should. +</p> + +<p> +"The lad does very well, as I told you he would," said the Colonel to +Murray one night when I rode in to make my report. +</p> + +<p> +"I see no signs of my chance of breaking him," said his lordship grimly, +but he would have me sup with him that night, and was very unbending and +helpful. +</p> + +<p> +There is nothing I need say about this stage of the retreat. It was well +managed, and is, I am told, a very creditable piece of soldiership. It +does not belong to my story but to history, to which I leave it. +</p> + +<p> +Things did happen, however, that do concern me. The first was laughable +though vexatious. This was the manner of it. +</p> + +<p> +While the Prince was making the stage from Macclesfield to Manchester, +and Murray and the Colonel were in force a few miles in his rear, I had to +keep the country behind them well observed. I had one patrol within sight +of Macclesfield, and others stretching out along an edge of upland country +running westward to the next main road. I spent the night in a little +wayside ale-house, and was having my breakfast next morning when I was +disturbed by a succession of yells from without. +</p> + +<p> +I ran into the yard and there was Donald, the rough head of one of my +dragoons in each hand, banging them together, varying his bangs with kicks +at any accessible spot, and shrieking at them in Gaelic, while they +shrieked back and wriggled to escape. He stopped when he saw me, but still +held them by the pow. +</p> + +<p> +"What's it all about, Donald?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"The loons! It's Glencoe 'erself sail hang 'em," he said breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +"What for? Out with it, Donald!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you gomeril"--shoving one of the men sprawling into the stable--"oot +wi' it! Bring your tarn rogues wark 'ere!" +</p> + +<p> +The man came sheepishly out with my saddle, cut and ripped and gutted +till it wasn't worth a sou. +</p> + +<p> +Strict and stern inquiry threw little light on the matter. I had my own +suspicions, namely, of two licorous raffatags in the so-called Manchester +regiment, whom I had handsomely kicked out of a roadside cottage where +they were for behaving after their kind. They had been seen prowling about +the curtilage of the ale-house the night before. +</p> + +<p> +I went back to my breakfast. For a few hours I had to make shift with the +saddle of one of my dragoons, but, after a short halt later on, Donald +brought out the sorrel with a fine, and nearly new, saddle. +</p> + +<p> +"Tat's petter," said he. "'Er sail ride foine now." +</p> + +<p> +"This cost you a twa-three bawbees, I'll be bound," I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +Donald grinned intelligently and I made no closer inquiry. The good +fellow made me uncomfortable, for he would have slit the throat of the +greatest squire along the road to get me a shoe-lace. +</p> + +<p> +Early next morning his lordship sent me ahead into Manchester with a +dispatch for the Prince, who had spent the night there. It was a welcome +task, for it would, I hoped, give me at least a sight of Margaret. Instead +of this sweet meat, however, I got sour sauce. +</p> + +<p> +When I got there our army was beginning its onward march, and there were +thousands of people about to watch the clansmen fall in, and little +disguise they made of their feelings. As it happened, when I rode into the +square, Ogilvie's large regiment was lining up, and he left it in charge +of his major to come and talk to me. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm wishing you'd come half an hour ago," he began. "Ishbel would ha' +given much to see you, and so wad some one else, I'm thinking." +</p> + +<p> +"Have the ladies started already?" I asked, with painful carelessness. +</p> + +<p> +"Losh, man, Maclachlan has 'em up and away the morn in fine style. He's +getting a very attentive chiel is Maclachlan, and I wonder ma Ishbel disna +like him better than she does. There's too damn few of us to be spitting +and sparring among ourselves." +</p> + +<p> +"This is so, my lord," I said. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm just plain Davie to ma friends," he said simply. "I'm no exactly a +man after God's ain heart, like my Bible namesake, but I hae no speeritual +pride where a guid man's concernit, and it ill becomes men who are in the +same boat, and that only a cockle-shell thing, to be swapping off court +terms wi' ane anither. They're aff, an' we mun step it out. An' I'm no +really a lord." +</p> + +<p> +"I want the Prince's lodging, Davie," I explained, as we walked on the +causeway level with the head of his column. +</p> + +<p> +"We march past it, an' I'll drop ye there. The young man takes it verra +ill. The heart's clean melted oot of him. An' sma' wonder! See the sour, +mum bodies in this town! When we came down there were bonfires an' +bell-ringings, an' cheerings, an' mostly every windie wi' a lit candle, +maybe twa-three, in it. The leddies, an' they're nae bad-lookin' lassies +either, had bunches o' plaid ribbons in their bosoms an'--this I hae from +Maclachlan--plaid gairters to their stockings." +</p> + +<p> +In such talk we spent the way to the Prince's lodging, where I charged +him to carry my greetings to the ladies. He wrung my hand in parting and, +his major having halted the regiment, stepped proudly to the head of his +men. I stood on the edge of the causeway, drew my sword, and stood at the +salute, according to the courtesy of the wars. He returned the honour in +like soldierly fashion, rapped out a command, and so passed on into the +hungry North. It was the last I was to see of Davie, commonly called the +Lord Ogilvie. +</p> + +<p> +To my astonishment the Prince was not yet risen, and it was some time +before he came to me in his day-room, where I was awaiting him. I rose and +bowed as he entered, and gave him the dispatch. +</p> + +<p> +"Curse your foul English weather, Captain Wheatman. It's getting into my +bones." +</p> + +<p> +This was, I fancy, only his way of excusing to me the nip of brandy he +was pouring out. +</p> + +<p> +"That's better!" he said, putting down the empty glass. "I have something +to thank France for after all." He laughed at his own poor joke, but there +was no ring of merriment in his laughter, and added, "Now for what my +runaway general has to say." +</p> + +<p> +He read the letter impatiently and sneeringly. "I suppose Mr. Secretary +must write something back," was his comment. "It doesn't matter much what, +since we're running away as fast as our legs can carry us. Any fool, or +rogue, or Murray can run away." +</p> + +<p> +He paced up and down the room with long angry strides, muttering words I +did not understand. Suddenly he stopped, and turned on me with the +smiling, princely face of the greater Charles I knew and liked. +</p> + +<p> +"Curse me for an ingrate! I am heartily obliged to you, Captain Wheatman, +for your pains. My lord speaks of you in high terms of praise. And I must +not keep you. Murray must have his answer. Come with me, and Mr. Secretary +shall take it down while I have my breakfast." +</p> + +<p> +I followed him out and along a passage with doors on either side, outside +one of which stood a servant or sentry, who had eyed me furtively on my +coming inward. When he saw the Prince, he opened the door and thrust in +his head, to announce our visit. He was clumsy, too, and, keeping his head +round the edge of the door too long, bumped into the Prince, who rapped +out an oath and flung him aside. As I followed Charles in, I caught a +glimpse of the back of a man in a heavy mulberry wrap-rascal, guarded with +tarnished silver braid at the cuffs and pockets, who was hastily leaving +the Secretary's room by an inner door. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha!" said Charles sneeringly. "More plots and politics! If I could be +schemed into a crown, you'd be the man to do it." +</p> + +<p> +"I must be acquent wi' what gaes on in the toun, your Royal Highness, an' +ma man yonder's a rare ferret, but I didna think him worthy to be in the +presence, sae I just bundled him oot." +</p> + +<p> +"All your plotting and contrivings will not do you as much good as a +glass of brandy. The climate's getting at you." +</p> + +<p> +Indeed Mr. Secretary was all of a shake, and looked in a scared manner +from the Prince to me and back again. +</p> + +<p> +"It's naething but a little queasiness, such as we elder, bookish men are +apt to get by ower-much application. Your Royal Highness is gracious to +note my little ailments," said he smoothly. He had recovered already. +</p> + +<p> +"Try brandy!" said Charles. "It settles the stomach fine. Well, come and +take down a reply to this while I have some breakfast!" +</p> + +<p> +The queasiness seemed to return, for Mr. Secretary was slow, captious, +and argumentative, though the matter of the dispatch was only as to where +the army should halt for a day's rest. At last Preston was decided on, and +the dispatch written accordingly. I bowed myself out, jumped on the +sorrel, and started for the Stockport road. +</p> + +<p> +Our rear was closer up than usual this morning. Manchester, being a +considerable town, was not to be cleared of our main of troops until the +first column of the rear was in the southern skirts of the town. Outside +the Prince's lodging, his escort of life-guards was now drawn up. As I +rode along the edge of the market-square the Camerons were massing, and +the streets adjacent were seething with clansmen. +</p> + +<p> +I put the sorrel to it and was soon out in the low open country. After +cantering a mile or so, I caught sight of two horsemen, well ahead of me, +riding south at a round gallop. One of them wore a big mulberry +wrap-rascal. It is no uncommon garment to see along a turnpike on a biting +December day, but, ten minutes later, after they dropped to a walk to ease +their horses up a slope, I saw the silver guarding round the pockets. +</p> + +<p> +If this were the man I had seen hurrying out of Mr. Secretary's room, a +look at him would be worth while, so I spurred after them. The clatter I +made had the desired effect. At the top of the slope, wrap-rascal turned +round. It was Weir, the Government spy. He squealed to his companion, who +looked back in turn. My heart leaped fiercely at the sight of his seamed +leathery face and dab-of-putty nose. It was the sergeant of dragoons. +</p> + +<p> +Down the slope they raced, with me after them full tilt, proud as a +peacock to be driving two men headlong before me, and one of them an old +campaigner. It was my undoing. The road was lined with straggling hedges, +and a long pistol shot ahead, a cross-track cut it. The sergeant was +giving orders to the spy as they rode, and at the crossway the sergeant, +shouting, "Shoot low!" turned sharp to the left while the spy made for the +right. +</p> + +<p> +It was a pretty trick, for it put me between two fires. I was on the +spy's pistol hand as he turned, and he let fly at me, not out of +calculated bravery, as his face plainly showed, but in a flurry of +despair. The motive behind a shot, however, does not matter. It's the +bullet that counts, and his got me just above the left elbow. I was up in +my stirrups, aiming at the sergeant, who was pulling his horse round to be +at me. I saw splinters fly from a bough to his right. +</p> + +<p> +I had not looked to the spy. Now a shot rang out down the lane on his +side. It was followed by a piercing shriek, and this by another shot. In +between the shots, the serjeant wheeled round, and raced off down the lane +for dear life, spurring and flogging like a maniac. It was useless to +follow. My rein hand had lost its grip, my arm felt aflame, and blood was +already dripping fast from my helpless fingers. +</p> + +<p> +Looking down the lane, I saw Weir lying in the road, and a strange +horseman climbing down from his saddle. I rode up to him. +</p> + +<p> +"How d'ye do?" he said affably. "Sorry I could not get the other chap for +you, but I meant having Turnditch. The dirty rascal has sent his last lad +to the gallows. Faugh! I could spit on his carrion." +</p> + +<p> +A glance to the road showed that he was right. The spy's blank, yellow +face was turned upwards; his eyes, with the horror of hell still in them, +stared wide-open at the sky. Just above his right eyebrow there was a hole +I could have put my finger in. +</p> + +<p> +"Damn my silly eyes!" cried the stranger. "You're winged, sir, and badly. +It must be seen to at once." +</p> + +<p> +He helped me down, took off my coat and waistcoat, and turned up my +shirt-sleeve, doing all this deftly and almost womanly. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah! Missed the bone and gone clear through! Put you right in no +time! Plug down your finger there, sir, while I cut a stick. That's +excellent. You won't mind if I keep you while I reload my barkers? The +safe side, you know!" +</p> + +<p> +With his handkerchief and my own, and a length of hazel for a tourniquet, +he bound up the wound, and with much skill, for he at once reduced the +flow of blood to a mere trickle. While he was busy over me, I took stock +of him. +</p> + +<p> +He was a man of about my own age and height, but slimmer and wirier. His +features were rather irregular, but an intelligent, humorous look atoned +for this defect, and his bright grey eyes were the quickest I have ever +seen. Though an utter stranger, there was a puzzling familiarity about +him, and I tried hard to recall which of my acquaintance featured him. His +horse, now cropping at the roadside, was a splendid brown blood mare, the +best horse, barring Sultan, I had seen for many a day. The last thing I +noted was that the man was singularly well dressed. +</p> + +<p> +"That's patched you up till you can get to a regular doctor. There's a +first-class man at Stockport, opposite the west door of the church, +Bamford by name. You can't miss his place, and he'll pocket his fee like a +wise man ind ask no questions." +</p> + +<p> +"You've done very well, sir," said I. "The blood has almost ceased to +flow. I'm greatly beholden to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Say no more!" he cried earnestly. "It's a boon you've conferred on me, +if you only knew it. <i>Nemo repente turpissimus</i>, as we say." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Video proboque</i>, as we also say," I countered, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"Oddones! A brother of the lamp!" he cried, laughing shortly, and +suddenly sobering. "I must be on. Sorry to leave you, sir, but I think +you're all right. Take care, however. I was touched myself t'other day, +and the damned hole in my ribs still bleeds if I exert myself too much." +</p> + +<p> +"You should surely be in bed, if there's a hole in your ribs." +</p> + +<p> +"In bed!" he sniffed. "I took to bed, egad, and nearly got pinched. Now +I've no need for exertion. In this gap between the Highlanders, I'm as +snug as a flea in a blanket." +</p> + +<p> +After helping me into my clothes and on to my horse, he strolled up to +the dead man. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Turnditch," he said, "you know everything now, or nothing." Then, +dropping lightly on his knee, he turned gaily to me, and said, "Always +plunder the Egyptian, dead or alive." +</p> + +<p> +He rifled the spy's pockets with the easy indifference of an expert, +singing as he turned them out: +</p> + +<p class="ind"> + "The priest calls the lawyer a cheat;<br> + The lawyer beknaves the divine;<br> + And the statesman because he's so great,<br> + Thinks his trade is as honest as mine." +</p> + +<p> +He stopped his singing and, tossing a well-stuffed leather bag up and +down in his hand, said, "There's really no objection to virtue when the +jade is not her own reward. Chunk! chunk! There's alchemy for you! Half an +ounce of lead into half a pound of gold!" +</p> + +<p> +He stowed the bag in his pocket, jumped on his mare, and together we +walked our horses to the turnpike, where we halted side by side, our +horses' heads to their respective destinations. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I, holding out my hand, "I am greatly in your debt. My name +is Oliver Wheatman, of the Hanyards, Staffordshire. May I have the +pleasure of learning yours?" +</p> + +<p> +He took my hand, looked at me intently, with his grey eyes very +thoughtful and steady, and then said quietly, "Samuel Nixon, Bachelor of +Arts, sometime Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford." +</p> + +<p> +"Commonly called 'Swift Nicks,'" I added, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"Right first time," he cried gleefully, and shot off like an arrow +towards Manchester. +</p> + +<p> +So Nance Lousely had not got her pinnerfull of guineas after all. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2> + +<h3>DONALD</h3> + +<p> +I got my wound in the early forenoon of December the 10th. About eight +o'clock on the night of the 17th I sat down in a deserted shepherd's hut +to the meal Donald had got ready for me. The week had been in one respect +a blank, for I had not seen Margaret. In every other respect it had been +laborious, strenuous, and exciting, and we had just seen the end of the +toughest job so far. We, meaning my dragoons and myself, were on the top +of Shap. Some ammunition wagons had broken down on the upward climb, +bunging up the road at its stiffest bit and delaying us for hours. His +lordship and the Colonel, with the infantry of the rear-guard, were in +Shap village a mile or two ahead. The Prince was still farther on, +probably in Penrith. +</p> + +<p> +The delay was dangerous. Our army had rested one full day at Preston and +another at Lancaster. Even at Preston the Colonel and I, with my dragoons, +had barely ridden out of the town when a strong body of enemy horse rode +in from the east, sent by Wade to reinforce the Duke. Our margin of safety +was being cut down daily. We should have to fight before long, and I was +posted here, on the top of Shap, to see that no surprise was sprung upon +us. +</p> + +<p> +The shieling, as Donald called it, was about a hundred yards past the +highest point of the road, where a picket was on the watch. Across the +road was a bit of a dip, and here my dragoons were making themselves +comfortable round a roaring fire, fuel for which was provided by the +smashed-up carcass of a derelict wagon. The country was as bare as a +bird's tail, but by a slice of great good luck one of them had shot a +stray sheep on the way up, and the air was thick with the smell of singed +mutton. +</p> + +<p> +Here I must say of my dragoons that they were men I loved to command. +After twelve days' work of a sort to knock up an elephant they were as +fresh as daisies. Donald they all feared, and as Donald, for my behoof, +made no bones about telling them how the laddie's nief, sma' as it lookit, +'ad dinged 'im, Donald, oot o' his seven senses, they feared me. I think +they even liked me. Anyhow, I never had an ugly look or a glum word from +one of them. Some people express surprise at the splendid Highland +regiments now, thanks to Mr. Pitt's politic genius, serving in our army. +It is no surprise to me who have commanded a body of clansmen for a +fortnight in the back-end of a retreat. +</p> + +<p> +Donald was a very jewel of a man. He was servant, sergeant, nurse, and +companion, and unbeatable in all capacities. My wound had given me more +trouble than I expected, even though Mr. Bamford had told me that one of +the larger arteries was injured. Once or twice since, as occasion served, +a doctor had dressed it, but it was Donald's incessant care that did most +for it. I still wore my left arm in a sling. +</p> + +<p> +He had made me a fire of wood and turfs; given me roast mutton, a slice +of cheese sprinkled with oatmeal, and good bread to eat, and a pint of +milk laced with whisky to drink. Refinements which he would have scouted +for himself in any place, he had taken thought to provide for me in these +wilds--a pewter plate and a silver beaker, both stolen. The only +furnishing in the hut was a squat log, almost the size of a butcher's +block, which served as a table. For seat, Donald rigged up half the +tail-board of the wagon across two heaps of turfs. He completed his work +by producing a tallow candle stuck in a dab of clay by way of candlestick. +</p> + +<p> +Donald had left me to my food and gone over to the camp to get his own. I +made a nourishable meal and then sat down before the fire to smoke and +think. +</p> + +<p> +I had not seen Margaret since Leek, and had not been alone with her +since, her hand in mine, we had crept out of the gracious presence of the +dead. And I had got into a mood in which I felt that it was well I did not +see her. Some day I should have to do without her altogether, and this was +a chance of learning how to do it. +</p> + +<p> +Though I had not seen her, I had heard of her. While our army stayed the +day in Lancaster I had been watching the road within sight of the spires +of Preston, wondering why the Duke's horse, after their accession of +strength, did not come after us. The Marquess of Tiverton has since told +me that the Duke had been kept a day at Preston by rumours of a French +landing on the south coast. Being far behind, I had ridden through +Lancaster without drawing rein, but in the main street a stranger--one of +us, however, as his white cockade showed--had stepped up to my saddle and +handed me a letter. It was plainly of a woman's writing, and I burned to +think that it was Margaret's hand that had penned the direction to "Oliver +Wheatman, Esquire, Captain of Dragoons in the army of His Royal Highness +the Prince Regent." I tore it open, and found it was from the Lady +Ogilvie. She would understand and forgive if she could ever know how +disappointed I was. +</p> + +<p> +It had been written that morning before leaving the town, and bore traces +of hasty composition. It ran as follows:-- +</p> + +<p> +"SIR,--This is to let ye know, dear Oliver, that I'm sure M. has got a +bee in his bonnet. I'm thinking that some one we know has tell't him she +will hae no trokings with him in the way he wants. I dinna ken for +certain, mark ye, but they were taegither last night, and this morning +he's not hanging round to pit us in ye carriage, as he ordinarily does, +and she is pale and quiet, and says she wishes her father was at hand, and +I like it not, dear Oliver. I call you dear Oliver because y'are such a +guid laddie, just as I'm a guid girl. Davie tell't me how you stood up and +saluted him, and I was glad I'd kissed ye ance upon a time, though it was +only to plague ye. Remember what I tell't ye about these Highland boddys. +M. is like all the rest of 'em, and moreover the Prince made ye his +aide-de-camp, and it was to have been him, tho' he didna mind at the first +because it left him free to be courting his leddy, but noo he'll hae it +rankling in his heart like poison. And keep your eye on that chiel, +Donald. He's foster-brother to M., and wad stick his dirk in the Prince +himself if M. tell't him to. They're not bad boddys, but that's how they +are. She says naething about ye, and that's a guid sign, I'm thinking. I +wish ye knew the French instead of that silly Lattin, for then I cud write +ye a propper letter wi' nice words in it, but she says yell hae to learn +Italian first to suit her, but that's only her daffery. Excuse this +ill-writ note, for the paper is bad and I'm no sure o' my English when +it's guid.--Your obedient servant and loving guid friend, +</p> + +<p> +"ISHBEL OGILVIE" +</p> + +<p> +I pulled the dab of mud close to my elbow and read it again. In part it +was plain enough. That Maclachlan was madly in love with Margaret had +become almost a matter of common gossip. My Lord George Murray had hinted +at it more than once, as he had at my displacing the young Chief in the +Prince's favour. Maclachlan was son and heir to a chief of considerable +power and reputation. That he should fall in love with Margaret was +natural, and had she fallen in love with him I should not have been +surprised. Even after the event, I still say that he was a fine, +upstanding man, delightful to look on, and, so far as I knew, worthy of +any woman, even of such a one as Margaret. But the heart is master not +servant, and cannot be commanded. She loved him not and there was an end +of it. +</p> + +<p> +Next, Lady Ogilvie hinted at danger to me from him. Well, if he wanted a +fight, a fight he should have. There's no Englishman living thinks more of +Scotsmen than I do, but I have never thought enough of the best Scot +breathing to run away from him. As for Donald, unless I was an idiot and +he a better actor than Mr. Garrick, he would far sooner have driven his +dirk into himself than into me. That matter could rest. There would be no +fighting that night, and I never put on my breeches till it's time to get +up. +</p> + +<p> +Where her ladyship was wrong was in supposing, as clearly she did, that +Margaret's love affairs interested me otherwise than as being Margaret's. +I loved her, loved her dearly, all the more dearly because hopelessly. I +had no qualifications which would enable me to speak my love. At my best +nothing but a poor yeoman, I was now not even that, I was a declared rebel +in a rebellion that had failed. And if I had had every qualification that +rank and wealth could give me, it would still have been the same. Between +her and me was the dead body of my friend and the widowed heart of my +sister. +</p> + +<p> +I was meditatively refilling my pipe when I heard Donald's voice without, +raised in earnest explanation. +</p> + +<p> +"An' if I didna think it wass auld Nick comin' for me afore ma reetfu' +time, may I never drink anither drap whisky as lang as I live." +</p> + +<p> +Some one laughed at the explanation, and Donald, still explaining, pushed +open the door and made way for Margaret, who, before I could rise, was +glowering over me, in the delightful way she had, girlish pretence just +dashed with womanly earnest. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall never forgive you, nor father, nor Donald, nor anybody else. And +you're not to move, sir!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sorry, madam," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"You always are. It's your favourite mood. You live on sorrow," she said, +pelting me with the terse, sharp sentences. Then, for I twitched at her +telling me I lived on sorrow, she melted at once, and said, "Oh, Oliver, +I'm so sorry. Why did you not send for me and let me nurse it better? +Surely that was my right as well as my duty." +</p> + +<p> +There was no contenting her till she had seen and dressed my wound. She +had brought lint and linen with her, some kind of balsam which nearly made +me glad she had not had the daily dressing of my arm, and even a basin and +a huge bottle of clear spring water, which were brought in from the calash +by Bimbo, Lady Ogilvie's little black coachman. The hut looked like a +surgery, and Donald and Bimbo got mixed up in the most laughable way in +dodging about to wait on her. +</p> + +<p> +"Com' oot of it!" said Donald desperately, unwinding the little black out +of his plaid for the second time. +</p> + +<p> +"You one big elephant in pekkaloats!" he retorted, grinning bare his big +white teeth. "You tread on Bimbo, Bimbo go squash." +</p> + +<p> +"How does it feel now?" asked Margaret, when her task was over. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall be able to clout Donald with it in the morning," I answered. +</p> + +<p> +"Tat's petter," said he, grinning with delight. "I'm thinkin' I'd suner +be dinged wi' 'er again than see 'er hinging there daein' naethin'." +</p> + +<p> +He took Bimbo off to the camp-fire and left us alone. We wrangled about +the seating accommodation of the hut, for the cart-tail was but short, and +I wanted her to have it to herself. She flouted the idea, and in the end +we shared it, and I minded its shortness no longer. She would fill my pipe +for me, and held a burning splinter to the bowl while I got it going. Over +her doctoring she had been very pale and quiet. Now she got her colour +back in the light and warmth of the fire, but she quietened down again as +soon as I was smoking in comfort. +</p> + +<p> +She told me briefly that she had stayed in Shap to see her father. Lady +Ogilvie had insisted on her keeping the calash, so that she could come on +in comfort in the morning. From her father she had learned of my wound, +and had come on at once to see for herself how I was. She would start back +for Shap shortly, where she was to stay the night with her father. +</p> + +<p> +She told me this and then leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands, +and went quiet again. +</p> + +<p> +I was glad of her silence, glad that she was hiding her face from me, for +I needed to pull myself together. That something had happened was clear, +and, whatever it was, it had struck home. In some way of deep concernment +there was a new Margaret by my side, but in another way it was the old +familiar Margaret as well, for she was wearing mother's long grey domino. +She had unclasped it so that it now hung loosely on her, and flung back +the hood so that the firelight made lambent flickerings in her hair. +</p> + +<p> +"I have not seen you for twelve days," she said at last. +</p> + +<p> +"No, madam." +</p> + +<p> +"Have you been neglecting me, sir?" Just a touch of vigour was in her +voice, but she still gazed at the fire. +</p> + +<p> +"You are a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," I said quietly, and +the retort brought her head round with a jerk. +</p> + +<p> +"And how does that excuse your neglect?" +</p> + +<p> +"By giving you the chance of ascertaining from your father whether my +military duties have left me any opportunity of neglecting you," I +answered steadily. As usual with me, since I could not woo, I would be +master where I could. It was a source of mean delight to me. +</p> + +<p> +"More logic," she said briefly, and turned to the fire again. +</p> + +<p> +Apparently she tested the logic in her mind and came to the conclusion +that it was sound. She got up, threw some wood on the fire, thrusting me +back playfully when I tried to forestall her, and then said merrily, "What +do you think dad said to-night?" +</p> + +<p> +"It would take hours to guess, I expect, so tell me at once, since I see +it hipped you." +</p> + +<p> +"It did," she said, with playful emphasis. "I fear I've not trained him +up as fathers should be trained, for he coolly told me that if I had not +had the misfortune to be a girl, I might perhaps have turned out as good a +lad as you." +</p> + +<p> +"Misfortune!" I echoed almost angrily. +</p> + +<p> +"The exact word," she replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Misfortune! To be the most beautiful woman in England, with the world at +your feet--he calls that a misfortune?" +</p> + +<p> +I spoke energetically as the occasion demanded, being, moreover, glad of +an outlet. Before I had finished, however, she was back in her old +position, with her face hidden from me by her hands. She puzzled me more +than ever, for, after a long silence, she burst out, "Not my world, +Oliver!" +</p> + +<p> +The phrase shot up like a spout of lava from some deep centre of molten +thought. I pitied and loved her, but I was helpless. To make a diversion I +looked at my watch and luckily it was the time when the picket at the top +should be changed, so I went to the door and opened it. A splendid blare +of piping came in from the camp-fire as I did so, and Margaret tripped to +the door to listen. +</p> + +<p> +"Who is it?" she asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Donald," said I. "He's one of the great masters of the pipes. I believe +in the tale of Amphion and the walls of Thebes now, for this afternoon I +saw Donald pipe some broken-down wagons out of the road." + +I went across to see to the change of picket, and when I got back into +the hut I saw that the tension was over. I relit my pipe, sat down again +at her side, and started a rapid series of questions as to what she had +seen and heard during the retreat. Try how I would, nay, try as we would, +we did not get back to our old footing. We were afraid of silences, and +skipped from topic to topic at breakneck speed. We two who had sauntered +together in the sunlight, now stumbled along in a mist. +</p> + +<p> +At last she said she must be going, and I went out and shouted to Donald +to get Bimbo and the calash ready, and four men as an escort. When I got +back to her, she arose, somewhat wearily, and I put the domino on fully +and fitted the hood round her head. +</p> + +<p> +"You see I've gone back to the domino, Oliver," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"It's the very thing for a cold night and a dirty road," I replied +cheerfully, stepping in front of her, a couple of paces off, to take my +last look at her in the light. +</p> + +<p> +"I have never met a man who understands so much about women as you do," +she said. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, madam," I cried boisterously, and bowed so as to avoid her +eyes. But when I was upright again, they caught mine once more, and +something in them made me tremble. +</p> + +<p> +"Or so little," she whispered, and she was pitifully white and miserable. +</p> + +<p> +If it had not been for what I saw between us--there, on the floor of +crazed and trampled mud, I should have flung my arms around her. But I +could not step over <i>that</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Ta carrish iss ready," cried Donald from the door-sill. +</p> + +<p> +I packed her snugly in the calash and started two dragoons ahead. Bimbo +clucked to his horse and was off. I walked a hundred yards by the side of +the carriage till it was time to whistle for the other dragoons to start. +Then I made Bimbo pull up. +</p> + +<p> +The young moon was battling with great stacks of clouds, but just at that +moment won a brief victory, and gave me a clear view of Margaret. She put +out her hand, which she had not yet gloved, and I took it in mine, bowed +my head over it, and kissed it. +</p> + +<p> +"Good night, Oliver," she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +"Good night, Margaret," I replied, and whistled shrilly to hide my +emotions. Something sent her away with her eyes ashine and her face +glorious with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +The dragoons clattered by, and I stood for a few minutes staring +downhill. <i>And so little. Not my world. And so little. Not my world</i>. +The words rang in my ears like a peal of bells. Then, by one of the odd +tricks the mind plays us, I remembered that I had left the Hanyards for +the work's sake, and that my love for Margaret could only be justified to +myself--the only one who could ever know it--by my work. Over the black +top there, down in the blacker valley, was the enemy, her enemy, nibbling +up the space between us as a rabbit nibbles up a lettuce leaf. I closed my +mind to the maddening chime, and started forthright to visit my picket. +</p> + +<p> +The road was flush with the bare windswept summit. The crumpled ground +was matted with coarse grass, almost too poor for sheep-feed. The +camp-fire still blazed; near it a bagpipe crooned; now and again a horse +shook in its harness. The moon whipped out for a moment, and then it was +pitch dark again. +</p> + +<p> +As I stepped it out there was a rush at me from the grass, behind and to +my left. Down I dropped full length, and a man shot over me and sprawled +in the road, but he was quick and lithe as a cat, and was up before me, +for my slung arm disadvantaged me. I could just see his sword poised for a +cut as he fairly pounced on me. I dived outward as he jumped, and he +missed me, but before I could get behind him he was round and at me again +like a fury. I was weaponless and crippled, but if I could once get past +his sword, it would be all over with him. The pace was so hot, and my mind +was so bent on the work, that I did not call for aid. At last I tricked +him, for in jumping aside I flung my hat hard in his face, and in a flash +had my right hand at his throat. He jabbed at me with his left, and I +twisted round to his right side, pressing his sword-arm against his body, +and digging my fingers into his windpipe. I heard his sword drop, and felt +him feeling for a pistol. He was as hard as a nail, and I began to dream +that he would get me before I had choked him. +</p> + +<p> +Donald ended the matter. He, doglike in his fidelity, came striding down +the road after me. The moon outpaced the clouds again. He saw us at our +death-grips, and came on with a rush and a yell. He drove his dirk into +the nape of the man's neck and twisted the blade in its ghastly socket. A +sharp, sickening click--and the man dropped out of my fingers like a +stone. The moon went in again, and hid the evil thing from us. +</p> + +<p> +"Pe she hurtit?" asked Donald anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +"Not a scratch!" I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Tat's goot! Carry 'er up to the fire," he added to three or four men who +had run up on hearing his yell. "She's English and, maybe, she sall hae +fine pickins on 'er." +</p> + +<p> +He stooped down, careless of a dead man as of a dead buck, and stropped +his dirk clean and dry on the man's breeches. Then the men, equally +indifferent, picked up the body and started off. +</p> + +<p> +"D'ye ken wha the chiel is?" asked Donald, as we walked after them. +</p> + +<p> +"A certain sergeant of dragoons, or one of his men," I answered. +</p> + +<p> +"He winna fash ye ony more," said he. "Tat's a fine way of mine, when I +can get behint a mon. I've killt mony a stot like it, shoost t' keep in +the way of it." And he stabbed the air, twisted his wrist, and clicked +delightedly. +</p> + +<p> +The men dumped the body near the fire. One of them stooped down and was +for putting his hand in the man's pocket, but drew it back as if he had +thrust it by mischance into the flames. +</p> + +<p> +Then I knew. +</p> + +<p> +I have heard a mare squeal in a burning stable, but I have never heard +agony in sound as I heard it there, on the top of Shap, when Donald flung +himself across the dead body of his chief and foster-brother. +</p> + +<p> +There is one tender memory of this distressing scene. Neither by look, +word, nor tone did Donald attach blame or responsibility to me. He +recovered himself in a few minutes, and then stood up, and gave a brief +command in Gaelic. Four awe-struck men spread a plaid on the ground, +placed the dead body on it, and carried it into the hut. Donald, gravely +silent, took the pipes from the man who had been playing, and followed +them. I bared my head and went after him miserably. +</p> + +<p> +Maclachlan's body lay on the floor of the hut. The eyes were wide open, +but on his fine composed face there was no trace of the agony and passion +in which he had gone before his God. It was as if, in that last terrible +second, some vision of beauty had swept his soul clean. I knelt down and +reverently closed the staring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Donald," said I, when I arose, "I would to God that you had killed me +instead." +</p> + +<p> +"It's weird," said he solemnly, "and weird mun hae way." +</p> + +<p> +I looked at him closely. That he was struck to the heart was plain to +see, but, the first uprush of grief over, he had become sober, steadfast, +almost business-like, as if he had something great in hand to do, and +would be doing it. +</p> + +<p> +He took the candle, now only the length of my ring-finger, and stuck it +on the narrow window-ledge. Again he spoke to the men in Gaelic, and they +moved out of the hut. Turning to me, he said, "Com in when ta licht gaes +oot!" +</p> + +<p> +He had the right to be alone with his dead. I wrung his hand and left +him. When I looked back from the doorway, he was filling his bag with +wind, but stopped to say, "Weird mun hae way." And as he said it he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +I crossed the road to the edge of the dip. More wood had been piled on +the fire, which now blazed cheerfully. Most of the men lay asleep in their +plaids, but a few stood guard over the horses, and the men who had carried +the body into the hut were squatting on the grass by the roadside. I took +my stand near them, and looked and listened. +</p> + +<p> +The terrible similarity of Donald's case to mine appalled me. Each of us, +in saving another, had struck down in the darkness a man near and dear to +him. Two good men and true had gone when the lust of life is sweetest and +the will to live strongest. I, who three weeks ago had never seen human +life taken, had taken it, and seen it taken, as if men were of no more +account than cattle. Between the house-place of the Hanyards and the top +of Shap, Death had become my familiar. +</p> + +<p> +For Maclachlan I had nothing but pity. He had thought that I stood +between him and Margaret. Clearly he had learned of her coming back to me, +and the thought had maddened him. He had disguised himself as an +Englishman and come after me, and this was the end of it. +</p> + +<p> +These were my thoughts as I watched the flickering flame dropping nearer +and nearer to the window-ledge, and listened to the pipes. Donald was +inspired. He and the pipes were one. In his hands they became a living +thing. What he felt, they felt. They wept as he wept, they gloried as he +gloried, they triumphed as he triumphed. +</p> + +<p> +He began with a murmur of grief that grew into a wail, became a +passionate tempest, and died into a prolonged sob. Then he changed his +note as memory wandered backward. The music became tenderly reminiscent, +subduedly cheerful. They were again boys together at their play, youthful +hunters swinging over the mountains after the red deer; young men with the +maidens; warriors on their first foray. The threads of life ran in and out +through the pattern of sounds he was weaving, and the older days of +fighting and victories followed as I listened. There was hurrying, +marching, charging; the groan of defeat; the mad slogan of final victory. +</p> + +<p> +"He's fechtin' the Macleans noo," cried out one of the men, who had some +English, and the others chattered vigorously for a minute in their own +Gaelic. +</p> + +<p> +The candle was now guttering on the window-ledge. These glories over, +Donald came hard up against the end of them all--the Chief dead at his +feet, slain by his own hand. For a time he faltered, playing only in +little, melancholy snatches. Then he got surer, and the music began to +come in blasts. He was seeing his way, learning what it all meant to him +and the Maclachlans. Weird mun hae way. Destiny must work itself out. We +children of a day are helpless before it. +</p> + +<p> +The flame fell to a golden bead as the music grew in strength and +purpose. There was a burst of light, a peal of triumph, and the music and +the flame went out together. +</p> + +<p> +Across the road I raced, threw open the door, and rushed in. Everything +was dark and still. +</p> + +<p> +"Donald!" I called passionately. +</p> + +<p> +There was no reply. I crept on tip-toe to the fire and kicked the embers +into a flame. +</p> + +<p> +Donald was lying dead across the dead body of his Chief, his dirk buried +to the hilt in his own heart. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +At daybreak we buried them side by side in one grave on the top of Shap, +their feet pointing northward to their own mountains. When the last clod +had been replaced, and a great boulder reverently carried up to mark the +spot, I turned, covered my head, and prepared to go, but the men stood on. +I looked back. They were loath to go. Something that should be done, had +been left undone. +</p> + +<p> +I divined what they had in mind, turned back, bared my head as they +uncovered, and repeated the Lord's Prayer aloud. +</p> + +<p> +I am thankful to this day to those men whom fools and bigots call +savages. They taught me to pray again. +</p> + +<p> +"Man Captain," said the one who had English, as we walked away in a body, +"ye wad mak' a gran' meenister." +</p> + +<p> +I could not withhold a smile, but before I could reply there was a +scattered rattle of shots from the dip. Looking around, I saw a body of +enemy horse on the lower hill across the valley to my left. +</p> + +<p> +We were overtaken. We should have to fight. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h2> + +<h3>MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT</h3> + +<p> +On the tenth day of my captivity, hope glimmered for the first time. When +a man has been penned up in a dull room for ten days, with +half-a-hundred-weight of rusty iron shackling his wrists and ankles, with +poor food, and little of it at that, to eat, he can extract comfort out of +a trifle. +</p> + +<p> +In my case the trifle was a smile, her first smile in ten days. So far +she had been as sulky as she was shapeless, bringing me my poor meals +either without saying a word or, at best, snapping me up and saying that I +got far better treatment than a rebel deserved. +</p> + +<p> +She never told me her name, and I never learned it from any other source, +so 'she' she must remain for me and my tale. She was perhaps thirty, +perhaps five feet high, the shape of a black pudding, with stony, rather +than ugly, features, and cruel, cat-like eyes. I hated her handsomely till +she smiled at me. +</p> + +<p> +She was, I suppose, my jailer's daughter, or servant, or something of the +sort. I never knew, and my ignorance does not matter. She brought me my +food, spake or spake not, according to the degree of vileness in her +prevailing humour, and went off, leaving me to my thoughts and my painful +shamblings round my prison-chamber. +</p> + +<p> +My ignorance was limitless. I was a prisoner, and my prison was a room in +a sizable farm-house with thick stone walls. Where the house was I had no +idea other than that it could not be far from the place where I was taken, +which, again, could not be far from the town of Penrith. There was one +window in my cell, the sill of which was as high from the ground as my +chin when standing upright. But I never stood upright, being jammed into a +cross made of good, solid iron, foul with rust, and having bracelets at +the tips for my ankles and wrists. It kept me a foot short of my full +stretch. I could get my eye to the edge of the window and no farther, and +then I saw much sky and a little desolate moorland running up into a +gauntly-wooded hill country. +</p> + +<p> +I spent my waking hours thinking of Margaret and the others dreaming of +her. Now was my chance to learn to do without her altogether. It would not +be for long. I was in the Duke's clutches, and he would not let me go till +my head rolled off my shoulders. Had I been free and with her, we should +have been farther apart than before--by the width of Donald's grave. But +here, parted for ever, with the block or the gallows just ahead of me, +there was no bar to my lonely love. Time and time again she was so near to +me, so vividly present to my imagination, that I stretched out my arms to +grasp her. The shackles clanked, and I cursed myself for a fool, but I +never cured myself of the habit. +</p> + +<p> +Because this is the dreariest time of my life, I have plumped right into +the middle of it to get it over. And, indeed, there is little worth the +telling between the top of Shap and her smile. I was in jail because I was +no soldier. That, apparently, should go without saying, and if I had come +to grief over some piece of important soldier-craft, no one would have +been surprised and I should not have been to blame. It galls me, however, +to have to confess that I was very properly caught, jailed, and ironed for +not knowing what a dragoon was. A man ought to know that after being +captain of a troop of the best for a fortnight, but I didn't. Being all +for logic, the least useful thing in life, I had arrived at the conclusion +that a soldier on horseback is a horse-soldier. So he is, except when he's +a dragoon, as I found to my cost. If the bold Turnus or Mr. +Pink-of-Propriety Aeneas had hit upon the dragoon idea, I should have +known all about it, because it would have been in Virgil. Even the Master +has his deficiencies. +</p> + +<p> +My Lord George Murray elected to fight at Clifton, a defendable place +between Shap and Penrith. Just south of the bridge the road ran off the +moor into the outskirts of the village, with a stone wall on one side and +a high edge on the other. The enclosures on either side were packed with +clansmen, and our wings stretched beyond on to the moor, here dissected +into poor fields by straggling hedges. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel, the happiest man in England that day, had posted me across +the road, right out on the moor, ready to gallop back at once with news of +the enemy's approach. It was now quite dark, except when the moon rode +free of the dense blotches of clouds that filled the sky. In one such +glimpse of light, I caught sight of several bodies of horse on the moor to +the east of the road. The regiment nearest to me wheeled to the left, and +trotted obliquely across the road. Its direction made its purpose clear. +It was feeling its way across our front to our flank on the west of the +village. I rode back at once to report. +</p> + +<p> +"Good lad!" said the Colonel, offering me his snuff-box. "It's just what +we want 'em to do. Go where there's a bellyful for you! Fine soldiering +that! The fool duke ought to pound us out into the open with his guns. +Hope you'll enjoy your first fight, Oliver! It's a glorious game. Pity of +it is the counters are so costly. Good luck, my dear lad!" +</p> + +<p> +I went back to my men whom I had left in the covered way between the wall +and the hedge. It being clear that the exact whereabouts of the regiment I +had particularly observed was of great consequence, I rode out again with +a couple of men, at the request of one of the chiefs, to see if I could +make out what was happening. There was no trace of it. It should by now +have been visible on my right, the moon being out again, but there was not +a single trace of it. I could see the line of one hedge and beyond that +another. The other regiments had not advanced and this one had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +Perplexed, I halted my men, pulled the sorrel's head round and cantered +slowly towards the nearer hedge. Then I learned that dragoons are +horse-soldiers who fight on foot, behind hedges for choice. Half a dozen +carbines rang out, the sorrel rolled over, and though I escaped the +bullets and jumped clear of my horse, I was pounced on by a body of men +and pulled ignobly through the hedge. I did everything doable, but they +swarmed over me like ants, bore me down by weight of numbers, and sat on +me. +</p> + +<p> +"It's him right enough," I heard one of them say. "Fetch the sergeant! +There's a bit of fat in this, lads!" +</p> + +<p> +A minute later, I was hauled on to my feet. A seared face, with a +dab-of-putty nose on it, leered delightedly into mine. +</p> + +<p> +"Got you, by G--!" he said. +</p> + +<p> +I had been captured by Brocton's dragoons. Now we should come to points. +</p> + +<p> +Without another word to me, and after a savage injunction to the men to +see I did not escape on peril of their lives, he went off and fetched his +lordship. They came running back together as if the greatest event +imaginable had happened. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha! Master Wheatman," cried my lord very happily, "this is indeed a +sight for sore eyes." +</p> + +<p> +"To be sure," said I, "your lordship's were pretty bad the last time I +saw them." +</p> + +<p> +He made no retort, being indeed too excited to notice pin-pricks, but +ordered the sergeant to take me to the rear under a strong guard. "Make +sure of him!" he cried, and added in a lower tone, as I moved off under +the combined pull and push of my captors, "Make sure of it." He then went +off to his own place in the line. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant did not come with us, and I had been tugged nearly to the +second hedge before he overtook us. To my astonishment he was carrying my +saddle on his head, where, in the dim light, it looked like a gigantic +bonnet. He swore at the men for loitering, and on we went to the second +hedge. We struck it at a point where there was neither gate nor gap, but +the dragoons bashed it down with their carbines and trampled it down with +their boots, and so made a way. +</p> + +<p> +Two of the men were through, and I was being hauled through, when there +was a spattering of shots from behind. Over the noise a stentorian voice +called out "Claymores!" It was the Highland warcry, and, with +reverberating yells, the clansmen poured out of the nearer enclosure to +attack the dragoons lining the hedge. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant drew his sword, and, as we raced on again, struck viciously +with the flat of it at his men to make them run faster. A queer figure he +cut in the moonlight as he raced along, swearing and slashing, with the +skirts of the saddle flapping against his lean ribs. At last we got out on +a poor road lined with trees and turned south along it. There was urgent +need for him to haste now, for Brocton's dragoons had been cut out of +their cover and were being pushed back to the hedge we had just left. The +sergeant halted a moment to take stock of the situation, and then we +hurried on again. Every time he struck a man for lazy running, the man in +his turn paid me with punch or kick. After a mile or so, the avenue made +an abrupt turn to the east and brought us out on the main road in the rear +of the Duke's army. +</p> + +<p> +The moon showed us a little cottage, standing off from the road in a poor +plot of ground. The sergeant led the way up to it, turned the cottager and +his family out of it into a shed, and set two men without as sentries. He +then made the others strip me to the skin and examined every shred of +clothing, ripping out the linings and even cutting my boots to pieces. +Finding nothing, he flung me the rags to put on again, and then cut the +saddle to pieces and searched that. I knew now why William had so nearly +lost his vail and Donald had been obliged to steal me another saddle. The +sergeant wanted, the letter and papers I had taken from him at the "Ring +of Bells." He was so keen that he omitted to pouch any of my belongings, +and I retained my money, Donald's watch, and the priceless strip of +bloodstained linen. My tuck and pistols were naturally taken from me on my +capture. +</p> + +<p> +"Any luck?" I asked quizzingly, when he at last gave over the search. +</p> + +<p> +Too furious or too cautious to reply, he brutally kicked a dragoon whom +he caught smiling. +</p> + +<p> +After a miserable drag of some two hours, a fresh dragoon came with a +message, whereon the sergeant conducted me to the presence of the Duke, +who was quartered in a large house in the village. The Lord Brocton, the +Lord Mark Kerr, and other officers were with him, and also several ladies +who would have been more at home in Vauxhall. For a minute or two I was +unheeded, and the sergeant could hardly keep himself sufficiently stiff +and awkward. His Grace was in the sourest of humours for, as the talk +showed, he had been beaten. The claymores had taken the conceit out of him +finely. He finished the subject with a string of oaths and then made an +unprintable inquiry of Brocton concerning me. The ladies tittered +profusely, and the most powdery one vowed that His Grace was a great wag. +In further proof of this he snatched a feather near a yard long out of her +pompom, and fanned himself with it while he examined me. +</p> + +<p> +This ducal waggishness gave me time to observe that the sergeant's +uneasiness was icy coldness in comparison with his lordship's. He was +uncertain of speech; his face was the colour of pea-soup; he looked +anxiously, almost affrightedly, at me. He grew plainly more comfortable as +the Duke failed to get any information out of me beyond the fact that the +weather was cold. Finally, when the sergeant was ordered to keep me at his +peril till such time as I could be lodged in Carlisle jail, Brocton +greedily tossed off a bumper of wine and laughed aloud at some vulgar +sally from a lady in a green paduasoy. On leaving I bowed to the Duke. He +was a vigorous, able man with the manners and morals of a bull. +</p> + +<p> +Brocton followed the sergeant out. There was a consultation between them +of which I heard nothing, but the result was that the sergeant picked up a +man as guide who was waiting at the front door, obviously for the purpose, +and took me through and beyond the village to a house on the roadside. The +place was of fair size, built of rough slabs of stone, and evidently a +farm-house. The owner was a lumpish, ungainly fellow, astonishingly +bow-legged. He had a little yapping dog, which jumped backwards and +forwards between his knees like a trick-dog through a hoop. +</p> + +<p> +Preparations had been made for my coming, "by his lordship," as the +farmer blabbed out. I was taken upstairs to a back room, ironed, in the +way I have described, by the parish constable, who had been prayed in aid +for the job, and locked in in the dark. I heard a sentry posted without +the door and another beneath the window. It was some consolation, and I +needed all I could get, to know I was so prized. There was a rough bed in +the room. I tumbled on it, wondered for a few minutes what Margaret would +be thinking of it all, and then went to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning I made her acquaintance to this extent that she brought me a +jug of thin ale, a lump of horse-bread and a slab of cheese. Her looks +froze my affability, but she does not become important till she smiled, +and I need say no more about her at present. +</p> + +<p> +I saw no other person till nightfall of the third day, when the door +opened and the little dog hopped through his accustomed gap into the room, +and was followed by his master carrying a lighted tallow candle in a rusty +iron candlestick. This imported something unusual, as I was not allowed a +light, and it turned out to be a visit from my Lord Brocton. He ordered +the sentry to follow the farmer downstairs, and examined the door +carefully to see if it was closed thoroughly. I sat on the edge of the bed +and hummed a brisk air with a fine pretence of indifference. +</p> + +<p> +He sat down on the one chair there was, placed his hat on the table, and +said, "I am sorry to see you in this place and condition, Mr. Wheatman." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course you know there's only one end of it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," I replied, and hummed a stave of "Lillibullero." +</p> + +<p> +He leaned forward and said impressively, "The gibbet, Mr. Wheatman!" +</p> + +<p> + +"Draughty places!" said I, smiling, as I thought of Nance Lousely. "I can +feel the wind whistling through my bones." +</p> + +<p> +"You are pleased to be facetious, sir. It does credit, I must say, to +your nerves." +</p> + +<p> +"You are pleased to be sympathetic, my lord," I riposted, "whereby you do +no credit to my common sense." +</p> + +<p> +He took short breaths and then reflected a minute or two, during which I +clinked a soft tattoo with my iron wristlets, and eyed him joyously. He +was there--a free lordling, I was here--a chained rebel, but I had him set. +</p> + +<p> +"I have a proposal to make to you, Mr. Wheatman," he said at length. +</p> + +<p> +"I am indeed honoured, but be careful, my lord! It's not in the least +likely, I fear, to be a proposal which you would like the sentry beneath +the window to overhear." +</p> + +<p> +"You are plain and blunt," he said, leaning forward and speaking in a low +tone, "and I will be the same. Return me all the papers you took from my +sergeant at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I will see that you escape and get +clear of the country." +</p> + +<p> +"The different personal ends for which you are anxious to turn traitor +seem innumerable, my lord!" +</p> + +<p> +He met the taunt as if it had been a flip with a straw, and only said, +"Is it a bargain?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is not," I replied emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +If his life rather than his lands had depended on the recovery of the +letter he could not have been more eager. For a long time he pleaded and +wrestled with me; arguing, bullying, imploring, threatening, turn and turn +about, but to no result. I would not go back on my casual word to Master +Freake. The letter was important to him, and he would save Margaret and +the Colonel, and me too, when the inevitable hour of need should come at +last. Money was power, and lands were more than money. Acres meant votes, +and with votes at your command you had ministers at your beck. I was sure +of Master Freake. Why bother about my lord Brocton? +</p> + +<p> +At last he played his last card. "You shall have the Upper Hanyards back +again, Master Wheatman," he quavered. +</p> + +<p> +The rascal earl, his father, had juggled more than a thousand acres of +the Hanyards away from my father by some musty process of law and a venal +bench. The reference angered me, and I cried loudly, "You shall not have +it back at any price!" +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the window, and paled as he thought of the sentinel ears +without. Then he went off, vomiting curses. +</p> + +<p> +That day week, she brought me a shepherd's pie for dinner, very well made +too, and a mug of ale not wholly unworthy of the name. She put them down, +looked at me in a measure womanly, and smiled. It was a root of promise +and fruit would follow. Any change would be welcome. I was ragged, dirty, +galled, cramped, and bearded with a red stubble. She called me 'Carrots' +in derision. +</p> + +<p> +I was right. At evening she brought me up a dish of tea, and when I +lifted it off the table to take a drink of it, there was beneath it a +paper folded letter-fashion. +</p> + +<p> +I steadied myself, drank my tea with only moderate haste, and then +cautiously palmed my treasure and walked to the window. Standing with my +back to the door, so that the sentry, who was given to popping his head in +to have a look at me, could not catch me unawares, I opened the paper. It +was a letter. It was written by a woman. The woman was Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +"You will be taken to-morrow to Carlisle. On the way friends will rescue +you and bring you to me. Fear nothing, say nothing, and all will be well. +Till to-morrow, dear Oliver. Destroy this. MARG. W." +</p> + +<p> +It went hard against the grain to destroy this precious missive. I hid in +the corner, and kissed it ravenously a hundred times. How straight and +true the pen had ploughed its way across the paper! It was just such +writing as I had expected of her, the resolute escription of her sweet, +resolute self. Nor was the problem of destroying it easy to solve, since I +had no fire, and there was no sure hiding-place accessible to my manacled +hands. I mastered the difficulty heroically by eating the letter with my +bread and butter. +</p> + +<p> +It was even harder to pretend to be dull and sluggish with such a whirl +of happy thoughts in my mind. I was her "dear Oliver," dear enough to make +her risk her own life in saving mine. That she would plan wisely and +execute swiftly, there was no shadow of doubt. This time tomorrow we +should be together again. +</p> + +<p> +The night dragged through at last, and the first glimmer of dawn found me +alert and hopeful. She brought my usual breakfast at the usual time, and +smiled again, but put her finger on her lips to warn me to be silent and +careful. +</p> + +<p> +She went downstairs, and left to myself again, I grew furious to think +that Margaret would see me so, a regular wild man of the woods--<i>quantum +mutatus ab illo Hectare</i>. But my ravings ceased at the sound of +preparations without. My room was at the back of the house, but I heard +the noise of wheels, and hoof-beats, and the harsh swearing of the +sergeant. By and by he came noisily upstairs, burst into my room, and +curtly ordered me downstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Blithely I followed him. Try how I would I could not hide my joy, and, +seeing that he noted it, I said in explanation, "Anything for a change, +sergeant!" +</p> + +<p> +"You'll wish yourself back here soon enough, blast ye!" he growled. +"We'll stretch your neck for you till your eyes drop out, you swine!" +</p> + +<p> +"You dear, good, Christian soul!" I simpered. +</p> + +<p> +For answer, he kicked me savagely, and then bundled me downstairs, out of +the house, and into the road. Here a two-horsed coach was in waiting, with +two dragoons and a corporal in front and two more behind. One of the rear +men was holding a horse, and to my annoyance the sergeant got into the +coach after me, bawled out a command, and off our party started. +</p> + +<p> +I stumbled into a corner and sat huddled up, straining my eyes ahead to +catch what was to come. Margaret's information was clearly correct. We +took the road north, passed through Penrith without a halt, and out again, +still on the turnpike, proof that Carlisle was to be our destination. The +city was obviously now in the Duke's power. +</p> + +<p> +Mile after mile we covered apace, and at every curve and cross-road I +peered ahead and around with my heart in my mouth. One point in my favour +was the desolate nature of the country, exactly fitted for such a +stratagem as was in hand. On the right the gloomy sky was blotted out by +jagged masses of gloomier hills. On the left the country varied between +flat and upland, but was hardly less uninviting. +</p> + +<p> +"Where d'ye think y're going?" asked the sergeant, joggling me with his +spurred heel to make me look at him. +</p> + +<p> +"No idea," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Blast ye. I wish y'had," he growled viciously, and I turned away to smile. +</p> + +<p> +We passed through a village littered with the Duke's baggage wagons and +pretty full of soldiery. This chilled my spirit somewhat, for it looked as +if we were about to run into the rear of the Royal army. Outside the +village, however, we again had the road to ourselves, and a mile farther +on dropped to a walk to climb a long slant of road. +</p> + +<p> +Whenever the road curved my way I had seen the corporal and his two men +riding from fifty to a hundred yards ahead of us. Not very far up the +slope we came on a farmstead lying flush on the roadside. In the yard were +some thirty head of shaggy black cattle, of the northern kind seldom seen +in our parts and therefore attractive to a farmer's eye. A farm-hand +leaning over the gate had some noisy gossip with the dragoons as they +passed, and bawled his news to a group of men sitting at meat under a +hovel. It was a poor enough place to support so many men, for the +farm-wife, who came to her kitchen door to see what the clatter was about, +was of no better seeming than a yokel's wife with us. My eyes were on her +curiously when the man on the gate skipped off and flung it open right +across the muzzles of our horses. +</p> + +<p> +In the tick of a clock the whole scene changed. The men under the hovel +rushed out, fell on the cattle, thrashed them mercilessly with great +battoons, yelled at them like maniacs, and drove them in a shoving, +bellowing, maddened mass into the road, which here had a stone wall on the +side opposite the farm. When the torrent was fairly going, two of the +supposed yokels snatched up carbines, climbed on to the hovel, and opened +fire on the dragoons in our rear. +</p> + +<p> +The master hand of the Colonel was in this beyond a doubt. With a loud +curse, the sergeant, who was on the side away from the farm, opened the +door and was for leaping out. He bethought himself and half turned, one +hand on the door and one foot on the step, to look an evil inquiry at me. +That half-turn was his undoing. Part of the living, struggling torrent of +cattle was shoved round our way and came sweeping by. One beast brushed +the door open even as he glared at me and tumbled him outwards. As he +twisted in his fall another drove her sharp horns clean into him, and +shook and twirled him off again like a terrier playing with a rat. The +rearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off the +scene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging after +them. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked to +perfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied and +happy. +</p> + +<p> +My rescuers took no notice of me but ran down the road in a body and +stood round the sergeant. After some excited talk they carried him back, +called on me to aid, and rammed him into the coach, where he lay huddled +on the seat in front of me. Without so much as a word to me, the commander +pulled our driver off the box, ordered a man up in his place, climbed +after him, and said briefly, "Go like the devil!" +</p> + +<p> +The carriage turned up a rough lane which ran eastward out of the high +road opposite the farm, leaving most of my rescuers standing uncertain in +a group. The driver cut his horses savagely with his whip, and we went at +a hard gallop. The jolting tumbled me about in the coach, and I had hard +work, shackled as I was, to keep the sergeant on the seat. He was still +alive, though so hideously injured that death could only be a question of +minutes. Where we were going and why they were carrying him along with us, +were questions it was useless to bother about. Margaret would explain +everything when we met. I could make little of the men who had rescued me. +They were clearly not farm-hands, for they were well armed, the guns I had +seen looked to me to be military carbines, and they had carried through +their business briskly and intelligently. +</p> + +<p> +I heard the men on the box talking, but their speech was only about the +road and the speed. The country got rougher and wilder; the distant hills +were losing their clear-cut, rolling outlines, and becoming neighbours and +obstacles. The horses were thrashed unmercifully, but at times even the +well-plied whip could get no more than a crawl out of them. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant's end was at hand. He rallied, as men commonly do before +they put foot in the black river, and looked at me unrecognizingly. He +closed his eyes again, and began to writhe and mutter strange words. +Suddenly he cried plainly, "Curse the swine! Another wedge, ye damned +chicken-heart!" He looked at me again, and this time made out who I was, +and cursed loathsomely in his disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +"D'ye know where y're going?" he ended, leering wickedly. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Blast ye! I wish ye did!" He gurgled this almost jocosely, as if it were +a pet bit of humour. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know where you are going?" I asked solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +"To hell," he cried, and, after a spout of blood that spattered me as I +leaned over him, went. +</p> + +<p> +The carriage stopped and, before I could rise to see why, the door was +opened and some one without said politely, "This is indeed a pleasure, +Master Wheatman!" +</p> + +<p> +It was my lord Brocton. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +It would be foolish to pretend that I was not bitten to the bone, and I +can only hope that I did not give outward expression to a tithe of the +chagrin and dismay that possessed me. Being commanded to do so, I got out +of the coach without a word and looked around. +</p> + +<p> +The rough road along which we had been travelling ran on through a slit +in the hills. Where we stood a bridle-path parted from it at a sharp angle +and made its way over the lower skirts of the hill country. It was a +desolate, dreary spot where, as I suspected, the king's writ ran not and +where, therefore, a man might be done to death with all conveniency. +Master Freake would be useless to me now, and my chiefest enemy had me at +his will. +</p> + +<p> +There was no delay. A long cloak was put over me, so disposed as to hide +my fetters, and I was lifted on a spare horse led by one of the +new-comers. The skill with which the affair had been planned was shown by +the fact that this horse, to accommodate my shackled legs, had been +saddled as for a lady. +</p> + +<p> +"You know exactly what to do?" asked his lordship of the men on the coach. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my lord," said one of them, "but what about--" He finished the +sentence by a jerk of his thumb towards the dead sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +"Leave him there! Egad, Master Wheatman, is not that a touch of the real +artist?" +</p> + +<p> +"The key of these things is in his breeches' pocket," said I, speaking +for the first time, and waggling my fetters as I did so. +</p> + +<p> +"Get it out, Tomlins!" +</p> + +<p> +The man who had asked the question climbed down and obeyed the order with +the callousness of a dog nosing a dead rabbit. Then our parties separated. +The coach continued along the main road, if so it may be called, and we +took to the track. I looked curiously after the coach, wondering where it +was bound, and with what object. +</p> + +<p> +"More art," said his lordship. "A coach is a seeable, trackable thing, +and it will throw everybody off the scent. I'm glad the ruffian's dead. He +was overmuch wise in my affairs." +</p> + +<p> +As we rode on into the interminable wastes, he rallied me gleefully, but +soon tired of my moroseness. +</p> + +<p> +"His arrival will make an affecting picture," he said mockingly to his +men. He was feverishly excited, and must boast to some one. "No pliant +damsel to rush into his longing arms! He is to be embraced though, my +masters, if need be." +</p> + +<p> +What this obscure threat might portend, I could not see, but it chimed in +with the delirious cruelty of the dead sergeant. Threats for the future +mattered not, the present being so unendurable. A man in Brocton's +position must be hard put to it to turn traitor in this strange fashion. +He had "rescued" me with his own men, and, lord or no lord, he would hang +for it were it once known to a lover of the gibbet like the Duke's Grace +of Cumberland. What on earth was the letter about? Master Freake had +definitely said lands, and therefore lands it must be, though nothing less +than the whole Ridgeley estates could be in question. The thousand and +more acres of the Upper Hanyards, sweet meadows stretching a mile along +the river and a snatch of the chase at its wildest and loveliest, the +prize that had fallen to the rascal earl in the great lawsuit, had been +promised me as readily as a pinch of snuff. I gloated over the revenge I +was winning for my race, a race rooted in those darling Hanyards a century +before the Ridgeleys were heard of, for the first earl, the grandfather of +the old rogue, started as an obscure pimp to Charles the Second, and was +enriched and ennobled for his assiduity. +</p> + +<p> +But no familiary pride could cheer me for long. The dead landscape around +chilled me. The chiefest misery was to remember the hope with which I had +started that morning. Margaret was the fancied end of my journey, and the +real end was this! I had to bite my lips till I felt the trickle of blood +in the stubble on my chin to keep back unmanly revilings. +</p> + +<p> +At last we came out on what was by comparison a made road, and now his +lordship grew plainly anxious and haggard. We rode madly along it, so +that, riding shackled and woman-fashion, I had hard work to keep my seat. +Brocton's head was incessantly on the turn to see if we were observed, but +his luck was absolute. We saw no one on the road, and, after a hard +stretch, we turned up a gully to our left and were once more buried among +the hills. +</p> + +<p> +After much turning and twisting we came in sight of a small house of grey +stone which, from its appearance and situation, I judged to be some +gentleman's shooting lodge. We cut across the valley, on one slope of +which it stood, and I caught a glimpse of cottage roofs beyond it. We +worked round to the rear of the house, and, in a favouring clump of trees, +his lordship called a halt. The horses were tethered, and I was lifted +down, and the rings round my ankles were unlocked. The men took one each, +and carried their carbines in their free hands. Brocton drew his rapier, +and said, "Forward! Make a sound, show the slightest sign of resistance, +and I run you through." +</p> + +<p> +There was no sense in disobeying, and I accommodated myself to his +design, which was clearly to get into the house unobserved from without. +In this he was successful, or at any rate I saw no one during our crawl +from one point of vantage to another up to the back entrance. Now his +lordship skipped gaily from behind me and opened the door. He stepped +softly in, and I was pushed after him by his dragoons. +</p> + +<p> +"'Friends will rescue you and bring you to me,'" he quoted, jeering me. +"There's no Margaret for you, Farmer Wheatman. I shall have her yet!" +Then, beast as he was, while the men kept me back, nearly tearing my arms +out of their sockets, he stuck the point of his rapier over my heart and +babbled half-delirious beastliness. +</p> + +<p> +We were in a big, bare kitchen, the other door of which was closed. There +was no sign of anyone about, and Brocton, still with his sword ready for +me, bawled out, "Where are you, you old hag?" +</p> + +<p> +The door opened at once. Brocton dropped his sword in his fright and I +clapped my foot on it. The two men fled like rabbits. Familiar as the +picture is to my mind, it is hard to find words to fit this crowning +moment of my adventures. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret walked into the room. +</p> + +<p> +For a second she was minded to rush at me, but thought better of it, and +walked up to his lordship. She towered over his limp, cringing figure, and +said coldly, "You are too poor a cur to be struck by a woman or I would +strike you." +</p> + +<p> +She was not alone. Master Freake was now wringing my shackled hands +delightedly, and a little, deft man, whom I knew on sight to be Dot +Gibson, was searching his unresisting lordship's pockets for the key of +the irons. A minute later he banged them on the floor and said, "And how +do you find yourself, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +There's no more to be said about Brocton. He was as good as dead for the +remainder of the business, and no one heeded him any more than if he had +been a loathsome insect that a man's foot had trodden on. And what killed +him was the presence of a third man, a perfect stranger to me. He was an +old-looking rather than an old man, with rheumy eyes that looked through +narrow slits, and a big unshapely nose; the skin of his face was brown and +crinkled like a dried-up bladder; his whole appearance as a man was mean +and paltry. What distinction he had was given him by gorgeous clothing and +the attendance of a pompous ass in a flaming livery. Yet Brocton dared not +look at him again, as he shuffled forward on his man's arm to speak to +Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Freake," he piped, laying an imploring hand on the merchant's arm, +"you will not be too hard on my foolish son?" +</p> + +<p> +It was the old rascal Earl of Ridgeley. I had not seen him since the +trial, when I was but a lad. In the meantime vice had eaten out of him +such manliness as had ever been in him. Rascaldom was still stamped on +him, but he was now in a state of abject terror. He and his son were +indeed, as Jane puts it to this day, two to a pair. +</p> + +<p> +"Your lordships will be pleased to wait on me in the room yonder," said +Master Freake, in his grave, decisive way, "and I will tell you my will on +the matter." +</p> + +<p> +He bowed ironically towards the door. Their unlordly lordships went off +together, and he followed and closed the door behind him. Dot sensibly +hustled off the lackey, and so we were alone together. +</p> + +<p> +As ever, I had my full reward. She turned to me, took my hands in hers, +and whispered, "My splendid Oliver!" +</p> + +<p> +"What, madam?" said I, laughing lest I should do otherwise and most +unbecomingly. "In a red beard?" +</p> + +<p> +"You look like a Cossack!" she declared, laughing in her turn. +</p> + +<p> +So, in the way we had, we kept ourselves at arm's length from each other +and dropped at once into our old footing. +</p> + +<p> +Then, bit by bit, and unwillingly, and mainly in answers to my questions, +she told a tale that made my heart bound within me. This is the mere +skeleton of it, for I have no skill to give body and soul to such devotion. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel brought the news of my capture by Brocton, pieced together +from the stories of my men, who got back unhurt, and of one of Brocton's +dragoons who was luckily taken prisoner in order to be questioned. +Margaret had immediately started on horseback for London, with one English +servant in attendance, going by Appleby to evade the Duke's army, and +across the mountains to Darlington. There she had travelled flying post +down the great north road, getting to London in five days thirteen hours +after her start from Penrith. +</p> + +<p> +Master Freake had started back with her within five hours of her arrival. +They travelled post through Leicester and Derby, and then on over ground +that was familiar. No wonder I had thought her near, since she had passed +within fifty paces of me as I shambled about dreaming of her. Part of the +five hours' delay in London was taken up by a visit paid by Master Freake +to the Earl of Ridgeley. He had gone forth stern and resolute. What had +happened she did not know, but as they sped north the Earl sped north a +mile behind them, as if they were dragging him along by his heart-strings. +At Carlisle, now in the hands of the Duke, they drew blank, for Brocton +was unaccountably absent from military duty. Fortunately Margaret, from +the window of her room, saw the sergeant ride by. Dot was sent on his +track and learned that Brocton was here, the house being a hunting-lodge +belonging to a crony of his who was an officer in the Cumberland militia. +They had ridden out that morning to see him, at which point her tale +linked up with mine and ended. +</p> + +<p> +"I am greatly indebted to you, Margaret," said I, very lamely, slipping +out her name at unawares. +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense!" she cried. "May I not do as much as your pet ghostie did for +you without being a miracle? Do not you dare, sir, to offer me a +pinnerfull of guineas!" +</p> + +<p> +She looked at me with a merry twinkle in her eyes, and I feel sure I knew +what she was thinking of. But Nance Lousely was a simple country maiden, +such as I was born and bred amongst, and at that time I had no vile red +stubble, rough as a horse-comb, on my chin. +</p> + +<p> +We were interrupted by the lackey, who came with Mr. Dot Gibson's +respects to his honour, and would his honour like the refreshment of a +shave and a bath as both were at his service? Like master, like man. This +resplendent person was for the nonce humility's self. I went with him and +was made clean and comfortable, and my rags trimmed a little. +</p> + +<p> +This was preliminary to being summoned by Master Freake to a discussion +with their lordships, with whom was Margaret, aloof and icy. +</p> + +<p> +"At the 'Ring o' Bells,'" began Master Freake, addressing me, "you took +from my lord Brocton's sergeant, now dead, a bundle of papers?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Among them a letter addressed simply, 'To His Royal Highness'?" +</p> + +<p> +"That is so, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"You gave that letter to me, unopened, in the presence of Mistress +Waynflete?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did," said I, and Margaret nodded agreement. +</p> + +<p> +"Several attempts have been made to recover the letter from you?" +</p> + +<p> +"At least three such attempts were made by the late sergeant, and two by +my lord Brocton," I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Their lordships' urgent need of recovering the letter is thus proven, +and the Court will attach due weight to the facts," said Master Freake. +Brocton turned white as a sheet, and the old rogue shook as a dead leaf +shakes on its twig before the wind strips it off. There was in them none +of the family pride which keeps the great families agoing. +</p> + +<p> +"I opened the letter. I mastered its contents. I still have it," +continued Master Freake, every sentence, like the crash of a +sledge-hammer, making these craven bystanders shake at the knees. "It is +deposited, sealed up again, with a sure friend, who has instructions, +unless I claim it in person on or before the last day of this year, to +deliver it in person to the King. At present no one knows its contents +except my lord Brocton who wrote it, and I who read it." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God!" ejaculated the rascal old earl fervently. +</p> + +<p> +"Egad," thought I to myself. "It's the Ridgeley estates no less." +</p> + +<p> +"We will call it, for the purposes of our discussion," said Master Freake +soothingly, "a letter about certain lands." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes! Yes! Certainly! A letter about lands! So it was!" cried the Earl +eagerly, and Brocton began to look less like a coward on the scaffold. +</p> + +<p> +"Would you prefer any other designation or description, my lords?" +inquired Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm quite satisfied, my good Master Freake," babbled the Earl. +</p> + +<p> +"What lands?" I burst out, unable to hold in my curiosity any longer. +</p> + +<p> +"The lands known as the Upper Hanyards in the county of Staffordshire," +replied Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Well I'm ----," cried I, in amazement, but pulling up in time, and +Margaret's blue eyes were as wide open as mine. +</p> + +<p> +"You are, Master Oliver Wheatman," said Master Freake, "the future, +rightful owner of the ancient estate of your family in all its former +amplitude; and all arrearages of rents and incomings as from the +thirteenth of April, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two, with +compound interest at the rate of ten per cent per annum, together with a +compensation for disturbance and vexation caused to you and yours, +provisionally fixed in the sum of two thousand pounds. The Earl of +Ridgeley, smitten to the heart by the remembrance of his roguery and +knavery, has agreed to make this full restitution. Am I right, my lord?" +</p> + +<p> +"Absolutely, Master Freake, if you please," whined the rascal old earl. +"My God, I'm a ruined man!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, my lord," said Master Freake, "if you lose your lands and moneys, +and I will not bate an acre or a guinea of the full tale, you and your son +will at least retain what, as I see, you both value more highly. The +restitution is to be made by you to me personally, so that we can avoid +quibbles about Oliver's legal position, he being a rebel confessed, and +the day after he is inlawed I will in my turn convey the property in both +kinds to him. When the restitution has been fully and legally made, +without speck or flaw in title, and passed as such by my lawyers, the +letter will be returned to you sealed as now, and of course I shall be +rigidly silent on the matter. Your lordships," he ended coldly, "may start +for London at once to see to the matter." +</p> + +<p> +The old earl started for the door eagerly, calling down on his son dire +and foul curses. Brocton looked poisonously at me before following, and I +knew I had not done with him yet. +</p> + +<p> +"I've got you your lands, Oliver, but there has been no time to get you +pardoned. The King was at Windsor; every moment was precious; and there +was no use, in the temper of the town, in dealing with underlings. It will +not do to run any risk of your being retaken, for Cumberland loves +blood-letting, and is no friend of mine. We shall take you to a little +fishing village on the Solway and get you a cast over to Dublin, whither +my good ship, "Merchant of London," Jonadab Kilroot, Master, outward bound +for the Americas, will pick you up. When we all meet again in London, in a +few months, you will be pardoned. Margaret and I must now follow her +father. The Stuart cause is smashed to pieces." +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +Late that night I stood with Margaret on the end of a jetty in a little +fishing village on the Cumberland coast. Master Freake was giving final +instructions to the owner of a herring-buss that was creaking noisily +against the side of the jetty under the swell of the tide. Dot was busily +handing to one of her crew of two certain packages for my use. +</p> + +<p> +We stood together, and she had linked her arm in mine. We who had been so +close together for a month were now to have an ocean put between us. Not +that that mattered to me, already separated from her by something wider +than the Atlantic, a lonely unnamed grave away there in Staffordshire. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she called to Dot, and he, as knowing just what she wanted, +brought her a box. She loosed her arm from mine and took it from him, and +when I would in turn have relieved her of it, she gently refused. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver," she said, in quiet, firm tones, "you met me when I was in grave +danger and immediately, like the gallant gentleman you are, left mother +and home to do me service." +</p> + +<p> +"It was the privilege of my life, madam," I said earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +"You have sweetened your service by so regarding it, giving greatly when +you gave. And, sir, that service put me in your debt. You see that?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is like you to say so. What of it?" +</p> + +<p> +"The time came when you were in danger, and I, in my turn, left my father +and rode hard to save you. I am not boasting, you understand, sir. I am +merely stating a fact. I rendered service for service, like for like, did +I not, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"You did, madam, and did it splendidly," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Then, sir, when we meet again," she said, and she was now speaking very +clearly and sweetly, looking me full in the eyes, potent in all her beauty +and queenliness, "when we meet again, we meet on level terms." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you ready, lad?" called Master Freake. +</p> + +<p> +"Coming, sir!" I cried, almost glad at heart of the escape. +</p> + +<p> +"One moment, Oliver!" said Margaret. "So anxious to be rid of me? Nay, I +jest of course! I've a little present for you here, Oliver. It will, I +hope, make you think of me at times." +</p> + +<p> +"It will not," I replied, smiling. "It will make me think oftener of you, +that's all." +</p> + +<p> +She handed me the box, and we walked up to the boat. +</p> + +<p> +The half-moon was bright in an unclouded sky, and it showed me tears on +Margaret's cheeks, as I bent to clasp and kiss her hand. Then I said +good-bye to Master Freake and Dot, and was helped into the boat. +</p> + +<p> +So we parted, and I set my face toward the New World. For ten weary +months there is nothing to be said that belongs of right and necessity to +my story. +</p> + +<p> +Except this: The first thing I did when I was alone in my cabin on the +good ship, the "Merchant of London," was to open Margaret's box. It +contained a full supply of books wherefrom to learn "the only language one +can love in," and on the fly-leaf of a sumptuous "Dante" she had written, +"From Margaret to Oliver." +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h2> + +<h3>I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON</h3> + +<p> +Of how I fared the seas with Jonadab Kilroot, master of the stolid +barque, "Merchant of London," I say nothing, or as good as nothing. Master +Kilroot was a noisy, bulky man, with a whiff of the tar-barrel ever about +him and a heart as stout as a ship's biscuit. He feared God always, and +drubbed his men whenever it was necessary; in his estimation the office of +sea-captain was the most important under heaven, and Master John Freake +the greatest man on earth. +</p> + +<p> +The ship remained at anchor in Dublin harbour while tailors and tradesmen +of all sorts fitted me out, for Master Freake had given me guineas enough +for a horse-load. I did very well, for Dublin is a vice-regal city, with a +Parliament of its own and reasonable society, so that the modes and +fashions are not more than a year or so behind London, which did not +matter to a man going to the Americas. +</p> + +<p> +From Dublin I wrote home. I had laid one strict injunction on Margaret. +She was not to go to the Hanyards, or write there, or allow anyone else to +do either. I would not suffer her to know, or to run any chance of +knowing, about Jack. She was greatly troubled over the matter, but I was +so decided that she consented to my demand. It cost me a world of pains to +write. I wrote, rewrote, and tore up scores of letters. Finally I merely +sent them word that I was going to America to wait till the trouble was +blown over, and that I should be with them again as soon as possible. I +gave them no address. It was cowardly, but I could not bring myself to it. +The nightmare that haunted me was my going home, home to our Kate, the +sweetest sister man ever had, with her young heart wrapped for ever in +widow's weeds. I used to dream that I rode up to the yard-gate on Sultan, +and every time, in my dream, the Hanyards looked so desolate and +woebegone, as if the very barns and byres were mourning for the dear dead +lad who had played amongst them, that I pulled Sultan round and spurred +him away till he flew like the wind, and I woke up in a cold sweat. +</p> + +<p> +On a Wednesday morning in the middle of February the "Merchant of London" +swung into Boston Harbour on a full tide and was moored fast by the Long +Wharf. Master Kilroot hurried me ashore to the house of the great Boston +merchant, Mr. Peter Faneuil, to whom I carried a letter from Master +Freake. It was enough. My friend's protecting arm reached across the +Atlantic, and if it were part of my plan to tell at length of my doings in +the New World, I should have much to say about this worthy merchant of +Boston. He was earnest and assiduous in his kindness, and so far as my +exile was pleasant he made it so. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Faneuil was urgent that I should take up my abode with him, but this +I gratefully declined, and he thereon recommended me to lodge with the +widow of a ship-captain who had been drowned in his service. So I took +lodging with her at her house in Brattles Street, and she made me very +comfortable. She had a daughter, a pretty frolic lass of nine, who +promoted me uncle the first day, and one negro slave, who was the autocrat +of the establishment till my coming put his nose out of joint, as we say +in Staffordshire. +</p> + +<p> +Master Kilroot unshipped most of his inward cargo and sailed away for +Carolina and Virginia to get rice and tobacco. Then he would come back +here to make up his return cargo with dried fish, to be exchanged at +Lisbon for wine for England. This was his ordinary round of trade, and a +very profitable traffic it was. +</p> + +<p> +When he had left, I settled down to make my exile profitable. By a great +slice of luck there was at this time in Boston an Italian, one Signor +Zandra, who gave lessons in his native tongue openly and in the art of +dancing secretly. The wealth of the town was growing apace; there was a +leisured class, and, speaking generally, the Bostonians were alert of mind +and desirous of knowledge above any other set of men I have ever lived +among. In the near-by town of Cambridge there was a vigorous little +university with more than a hundred students. Moreover, there was a rising +political spirit which gave me a keen interest in the men who breathed the +quick vital air of this vigorous new England. In many respects I found +myself back in the times of Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, captain of horse +in the army of the Lord-General. The genuine, if somewhat narrow, piety of +the Bostoneers reminded me of him, and still more their healthy critical +attitude towards rulers in general and kings in particular. They had the +old Puritan stuff in them too, for some eight months before they had +captured Louisberg from the French, a famous military exploit which the +great Lord-General would have gloried in. +</p> + +<p> +My days were all twins to each other. Every morning, after breakfast, I +went abroad and always the same way: past the quaint Town House, down King +Street, and so on to the Long Wharf to see if a ship had come in from +England, and to ask the captain thereof if he had brought a letter for one +Oliver Wheatman at Mr. Peter Faneuil's. I got no letter and no news. Then, +always a little sad in heart, I strolled back, and looked in at Wilkins' +book-shop, where some of the town notables were always to be found, and +where, one May morning, as I was higgling over the purchase of a fine +Virgil, I made the acquaintance of a remarkable young gentleman, Mr. Sam +Adams, a genius by birth, a maltster by trade, and a politician by choice. +We would discuss books together in Master Wilkins', or slip out to a +retired inn called "The Two Palaverers" and discuss politics over a glass +of wine and a pipe of tobacco. I liked him so much that I was afraid to +tell him I had been fighting for the Stuarts, and was content to pass in +the rôle Mr. Faneuil had assigned to me of an ingenuous young English +gentleman who had come out to study colonial matters on the spot before +entering Parliament. Our talk over, I went on to Signor Zandra's and +worked at Italian for two hours. Most days I took him back to my lodging +for dinner and read and talked Italian with him for another hour or two. +The rest of the day I gave to reading, exercising, and, thanks to the good +merchant, to the best society in Boston. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally, when I knew for certain that no ship would clear for home +for two or three days, I made little shooting journeys inland, but in the +main this is how I spent my days, filling them with work and distraction +so as not to have idle hours for idler thinking. Spring passed, summer +came and went, and the leaves were turning from gold to brown when one +morning, as I was at breakfast, Mr. Faneuil's man came in with a letter. +It was from Master Freake, summoning me home as all was put right. It +contained a few lines from Margaret, written in Italian. A ship was +sailing for London that day, and I went on her. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +Jonadab Kilroot had found his way across the Atlantic into Boston Harbour +much more easily than I was finding mine across London to Master Freake's +house in Queen Anne's Gate. It was after nine at night, at which late +hour, of course, I did not intend to arouse the inmates, but I meant to +find the place so that I could stand outside and imagine Margaret within, +perchance dreaming of me. At last I observed that men with torches were +clearly being used as guides through this black maze of streets, and I +stopped one such and offered him a guinea to do his office for me. He was +a lean, shabby, hungry-looking man, who might be forty by the look of him. +He stared vacantly at me for a few seconds, and then hurriedly led the +way, holding his link high over his head. +</p> + +<p> +This trouble over, another began, which put me in a towering rage. A +gaudy young gentleman bumped into me and, though it was clearly his fault, +I apologized and passed on, leaving him hopping about on one foot and +nursing the other, which I had trodden on. He swore at me worse than a +boatswain at a lubber, and but for the exquisite pain I had caused him I +should have gone into the matter with him. I found my linkman leaning +against a post and laughing heartily. +</p> + +<p> +"Never you mind, sir. He'll not take the wall of you again in a hurry." +</p> + +<p> +"Take the wall?" I said. +</p> + +<p> +"Done on purpose, sir, to pick a quarrel with you. The young sparks do it +for a game." +</p> + +<p> +Not much farther on, we met a sedan, with an elegant young lady in it, +and an elegant gentleman walking along by her close up to the chains, she +being in the roadway. There was ample room for me to pass between him and +the wall, which was also the courteous thing to do; but as soon as my +linkman had passed him, he shot clean in my way. I gave him all the wall +he wanted and more, bumping his head against it till he apologized humbly +through his rattling teeth. The lady shrieked viciously at me, and one of +her chairmen, my back being turned, pulled out his pole and came to attack +me. My man, however, very dexterously pushed the link in his face as he +was straddling over the chains, and he dropped the pole and spat and +spluttered tremendously. I stepped across to the lady and apologized for +detaining her, and then my man and I went on, easy victors. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at Queen Anne's Gate, another surprise awaited me. Master +Freake's windows were ablaze with light, and the door was being held open +by a man in handsome livery to admit an exquisite gentleman and a more +exquisite lady who had just arrived there in chairs. I gave my man his +guinea, and after dousing his link in a great iron extinguisher at the +side of the door, he sped happily away. After watching the arrival of +three or four more chairs and one carriage, I summoned up all my +resolution and gave a feeble rat-tat with the massive iron lion's-head +which served as knocker. +</p> + +<p> +The man in livery opened to me, and I was inside before he could observe +that I was an intruder. True, I was in my best clothes--my Sunday clothes, +as I should have called them at home--and they were none so bad; but they +had been made in Boston, where fashions ranged on the sober side. Here I +looked like a sparrow in a flight of bull-finches. +</p> + +<p> +"Can I see Master Freake?" said I. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said he, with uncompromising promptness. +</p> + +<p> +"Is he at home?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," he retorted. +</p> + +<p> +"This is his house, I think?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is," he assented. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I suppose all these people are coming to see you--and cook," said I +gravely. +</p> + +<p> +The sarcasm might have got through his thick skin perhaps but for the +intervention of another liveried gentleman, who briefly asserted that I +was "off my head," and proposed a muster of forces to throw me out. My own +feeling distinctly was that I was on my head, not off it; but his +suggestion interested me, as I do not take readily to being thrown out of +anything or anywhere. Luckily, a fresh arrival took their attention off me +for a minute or two, and while I was standing aside to admire the lady, +who should come statelily down the grand staircase into the hall but Dot +Gibson. He too was in livery, but of a grave, genteel sort. +</p> + +<p> +"Hello, Dot," said I, accosting him quietly. +</p> + +<p> +It bounced all the gravity out of him. He shook my outstretched hand +vigorously, and then apologized for doing so, saying he was so glad to see +me. "Jorkins, you great ass," cried he to the first servant, "what do you +mean by keeping his honour waiting?" +</p> + +<p> +Jorkins looked apprehensively at Dot and the suggester of violence looked +apprehensively at Jorkins; but Dot was too full to bother with them, and +went on: "Mr. Freake will be delighted, sir, and so will Miss Waynflete. +They're always talking of you. Come along, sir! Allow me to precede you." +</p> + +<p> +He took me upstairs into the library, and left me there alone. In a few +seconds Master Freake burst in on me. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear lad," he cried, wringing my hand heartily, "welcome--a thousand +times welcome!" +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be back," was all I could say. +</p> + +<p> +He put a hand on each shoulder and stood at arm's length to examine me. +</p> + +<p> +"And we're glad to have you back, looking as fit and brown as a bronze +gladiator. Come along to your room! It's been ready for you this three +months, for that silly Margaret set to work on it the very day we sent off +your letter." +</p> + +<p> +"How is Mistress Waynflete, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"You'll see in five minutes if you'll only bestir yourself. The wits say +that there's no need for George to furnish the town with a new queen as I +have provided it with an empress." +</p> + +<p> +He hurried me off to my room, as he called it, and it was so grand that I +crept about it on tiptoe for fear of damaging something. There was +everything a young man could want except clothes, and Master Freake +laughingly assured me that they (meaning Margaret and himself) had puzzled +for hours to see if they could manage them, but had given it up in despair. +</p> + +<p> +"I declared you'd pine and get thin," he said, "and she vowed you'd get +lazy and fat." +</p> + +<p> +I felt very doltish and unready as I followed him to the drawing-room. It +was very clear to me that no meeting on level terms was in front of me, +and when I got into a large, brilliant room where some dozen splendid +ladies and as many elegant, easy-mannered gentlemen were assembled, I felt +inclined to turn tail. +</p> + +<p> +"Empress." It was the exact word. Master Freake put his arm in mine and +led me towards her. She was sitting throned in one corner of a roomy, +cushioned sofa, with half a dozen young men--the least of them an earl, I +thought bitterly--bending round her as the brethren's sheaves bent round +Joseph's. And, as if she were not overpowering enough of herself, +everything that consummate skill and the nicest artistry could do to +enhance her beauty had been done. Juno banqueting with the gods had not +looked more superb. "On level terms," I whispered to myself mockingly, as +Master Freake led me on, for one of the circling sheaves, with whom she +was exchanging easy, lightsome banter, was my finely chiselled +acquaintance, the Marquess of Tiverton. +</p> + +<p> +Except that she cut a quip in two when she saw who it was that Master +Freake was bringing, Margaret gave no sign of surprise. She neither paled +nor reddened, nor gushed nor faltered. Empress-like she simply added me to +her train. +</p> + +<p> +"I bring you an old friend, Margaret," said Master Freake, for whom, as I +saw, the worshippers round the idol made way respectfully. +</p> + +<p> +"And my old friend is very welcome, sir," she answered, holding out her +hand. I bowed over it and kissed it. I thought that it trembled a little +as it lay in mine, but it is at least probable that I was the source of +what fluttering there was. +</p> + +<p> +"I trust you have had a good voyage, Mr. Wheatman?" she questioned easily. +</p> + +<p> +"Excellent, madam," I replied, with imitative lightness of tone. "It was +like rowing on a river." +</p> + +<p> +For a moment her eyes steadied and darkened, then she said with a smile, +"That being so, even I, who am no sailor, should have enjoyed it along +with you." +</p> + +<p> +This was how we met. Whether on level terms or not, who shall decide? +</p> + +<p> +"I say, Mr. Wheatman," broke in the pleasant voice of the Marquess, "you +don't happen to have any venison-pasty on you, I suppose? I've got some +rattling good snuff, and I'll give you a pinch for a plateful, as I did up +in Staffordshire. I vow, Miss Waynflete, it makes me hungry to see him." +</p> + +<p> +This speech caused much laughter, and Margaret said it was fortunate +supper was ready. She then introduced me to the company around, and when +this was done, Master Freake fetched me to renew the acquaintance of Sir +James Blount and his lady, so that I was soon full of talk and merriment. +</p> + +<p> +Supper and talk, wine and talk, basset and talk--so the time went by till +long after midnight. Then one by one the guests dropped off. The Marquess +lingered longest, and on going, pledged me to call on him next morning. +</p> + +<p> +"At last," said Margaret. "Beauty sleep is out of the question to-night, +Oliver, so tell us everything about everything. It's glorious to have you +back." + +It is not my purpose to dwell on my life in London. After a few days it +became one long agony because of, but not by means of, Margaret. She did +her best for me, and was all patience, kindness, and graciousness, and was +plainly bent on living on level terms with me according to her promise and +prophecy. It only required a day or two to show me that she had many a man +of rank and wealth in thrall. As wealth went then, the Marquess of +Tiverton was, by his own fault and foolishness, a poorish man, but he was +lost in love of her, and he was only one of the many exquisites who were +for ever in and out of Master Freake's fine mansion. It did not become a +Wheatman of the Hanyards to cringe or be abashed in any company, and with +the best of them I kept on terms of ease and intimacy. I dressed as well, +and perchance looked as well, as they did, and if my accomplishments +differed from theirs they differed for the better in Margaret's eyes, +which were the only eyes that mattered. +</p> + +<p> +Brief as I intend to be, I must set down a few jottings on things that +belong to the texture of my story. To begin with, the Colonel, though +pardoned, was still in France, looking after his affairs there, for before +starting to join the Prince he had wisely shifted all his fortune over to +Paris. +</p> + +<p> +Davie Ogilvie had got clear away after Culloden, and his sweet Ishbel, +though taken after the battle, had been permitted to join him there. It +was a great comfort to know they were safe, for there were sad relics of +my escapade in London--the row of ghastly, grinning heads over Temple Bar. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after my arrival, Master Freake had sent for his lawyers and +delivered to me in full possession the Upper Hanyards and the huge tale of +guineas which the rascal old earl had disgorged as the price of the +letter. Master Freake kept a rigid silence over the contents of that +famous document "about lands," and I had no wish to know. It was worth a +thousand acres and near ten thousand guineas to the Earl. I was satisfied +if he was. I put my guineas in a bank of Master Freake's choosing. What a +dowry I could have given Kate if-- +</p> + +<p> +My Lord Brocton was in town. I saw him several times, in the street or at +the play, but took no notice of him. He was said to be eagerly hunting +after a lady of meagre attractions but enormous fortune. Twice when I saw +him he had with him the fellow I had bumped against the wall, a notorious +shark and swashbuckler, by name and rank Sir Patrick Gee. Tiverton, who +had his own reasons for being interested in Brocton, told me they were +hand and glove together. +</p> + +<p> +In a little while a month may be, a change came over the relation in +which Margaret and I stood to each other. We both fought against it but in +vain. We could not travel on parallel lines, we two. We must either +converge or diverge, and fate had given me no choice. +</p> + +<p> +I used to pretend I was going out, to ride or lounge with the Marquess or +some other acquaintance, and then slip upstairs to the quiet old library, +bury myself in a windowed recess cut off by curtains, and try to forget it +all in a book. Fool-like I thought I could solve my problem so. The +Hanyards was calling me and I dared not go. I should leave Margaret, and I +could not leave her. +</p> + +<p> +Why, I asked myself a thousand times, was I so poor a cur compared with +Donald? He had done what I had done, and he had seen his way at once and +followed it. He would not live, having, in all innocence and with the most +urgent of all reasons, killed his friend. Not that I felt that his +solution was my solution. My duty was to leave Margaret and to go to Kate, +to help her, to the best of my ability, to live down her sorrow, and to +show by my life and conduct that I would pay the price. And here I was, +hovering moth-like round the flame. +</p> + +<p> +Then again I would say that I would wait till the inevitable had +happened, and Margaret was married to Tiverton. Anything to put it off, +that was really all I was capable of. +</p> + +<p> +To me, in my recess, Margaret came one morning. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought you'd gone out, Oliver," she began. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said I. "I altered my mind, and thought I'd like reading better." +</p> + +<p> +"You puzzle me. Are you quite well?" +</p> + +<p> +"As fit as a fiddle," said I cheerily, and rose to give her my seat, for +the recess would only hold one. +</p> + +<p> +"You're not to move, sir." +</p> + +<p> +She fetched a couple of cushions, flung them by the window, and curled up +on them. I wished she wouldn't, for she made a glorious picture. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, sir, I am going to have it out with you," she said severely and +smilingly. I smiled back, and pulled myself together. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope 'it' is not a very serious 'it,' madam," I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"It may be. Does your head ever trouble you?" +</p> + +<p> +"My head ever trouble me?" I gasped, taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, your head, sir. When you fell down those stairs you received a very +serious wound on the head. It gaped open so that I could have laid a +finger in the hole. Are you sure it doesn't trouble you, Oliver? Blows on +the head are dreadful things, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Look at it," said I, popping my head down, and very glad of the chance. +</p> + +<p> +Her beautiful fingers parted my thick, short, bristly hair and found the +spot. +</p> + +<p> +"There's nothing wrong with the skull, is there?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"No," very doubtfully. "It's healed splendidly." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, madam," said I, "talk to me in Italian!" +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time, by chance, that I had thought of it. +</p> + +<p> +For ten minutes she questioned and cross-questioned me in Italian on all +sorts of subjects, and I came out of the ordeal pretty well--thanks to +Signor Zandra. +</p> + +<p> +"Point one," said I in English. "The outside of my head is all right. +Point two: are you satisfied with the inside?" +</p> + +<p> +For a full minute she gazed in silence at her feet, twisting them about +swiftly and somewhat forgetfully. It was trying, almost merciless, for +she was very beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she said at length, but without looking at me. "You've done +marvellously well." +</p> + +<p> +"In the only language one can love in," I said bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +The words had no apparent effect. She still stared at her twinkling feet. +Suddenly she lifted her eyes up to mine and said, almost sharply, "Then +what did happen to you between the Hanyards and Leek to change you?" +</p> + +<p> +It was clean, swift hitting, and made me gasp, but I managed to escape. +</p> + +<p> +"Madam," said I, "I set out with you from the Hanyards to serve you and +for no other purpose whatsoever. In my opinion, speaking in all modesty, I +served you as well after Leek as before it. At least, I tried to." +</p> + +<p> +She leaped up, and, with great sweeps of her arm, flung the cushions into +the library. She said briefly, "And you succeeded, sir!" Then she left me. +swiftly and passionately, without another word or look. +</p> + +<p> +After this, the gap between us became obvious. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the Marquess of Tiverton was doing his best to give me a +competent knowledge of the Court-end of the town. He had a spacious +mansion in Bloomsbury Square, but this was now let to a great nabob, and +he himself lived in close-shorn splendour in a small house in St. James's. +Here I saw much of him, for commonly I would stroll round late in the +forenoon and rout him out of bed. By an odd turn we took to each other +greatly, and while he drank chocolate in bed or trifled with his breakfast +we had many talks on the few subjects that mattered to him. +</p> + +<p> +Our favourite theme was Margaret, whom he outspokenly worshipped. He +rhapsodized over her in great stretches, calling me to testify with him to +her divineness, and rating me soundly if, in the bitterness of my heart, I +was a little laggard in my devotions. And, at irregular intervals, like +Selah in the Psalms, he would intone dolefully, "And I can't marry her!" +</p> + +<p> +It was no use my protesting that an unmarried man could marry any woman +he liked if she would have him. +</p> + +<p> +"A man can," he would reply, "but a bankrupt marquess can't. I've got to +marry that jade. Pah! She's as lank as a hop-pole and as yellow as a +guinea. But what's a marquess to do, Noll? They say she could tie up the +neck and armholes of her shift and fill it with diamonds. Damn her! I wish +Brocton would snap her up, but he can't. He'll never be more than an earl +and I'm a marquess. Curse my luck! Fancy me a marquess! I'm a disgrace to +my order and as poor as a crow." +</p> + +<p> +The 'jade' referred to was the nabob's only daughter and heiress, who +was, as all the town knew, to make a great match. My Lord Brocton was +keenly in pursuit of her, but she inclined to the Marquess, who could have +had her and her vast fortune any day for the asking. She was certainly not +overdone with charms, but Tiverton in his anger had made her out worse +than she was. +</p> + +<p> +The morning after my encounter with Margaret in the recess, Tiverton was +more than usually talkative, the fact being not unconnected, I imagine, +with an unsuccessful bout at White's the night previous. We got through +our usual talk about Margaret and the nabobess, and then he struck out a +new line. +</p> + +<p> +"Now if the divine Margaret," he said, "rightly so named as the pearl of +great price among women, were only Freake's daughter and heiress, I'd be +on my knees before her in a jiffy. They say he made cartfuls of money over +that Jacobite business. Everybody here was selling at any price the stocks +would fetch, and he was buying right and left on his own terms. He was +back here, knowing of the retreat from Derby, over twenty-four hours +before the courier came, and the old fox kept the news to himself. He's +the first man out of the city to set up house in the Court-end. Old +Borrowdell shifted his tabernacle as far west as Hatton Gardens in my +father's time, and that was thought pretty big and bold, but here's Freake +right in the thick of it, and holds his own like a lion among jackals. +Fact is, he's a right-down good fellow. Being a marquess, I ought to +despise him, 'stead of which I feel like a worm whenever he comes near me, +and that, mark ye, Noll, not because I owe him close on ten thousand. I +used to owe a rascal named Blayton quite as much, and every time he came +whining round here I either wanted to kick him out or did it. Heigh-ho! +I'm in the very devil of a mess but I'll cheat scraggy-neck yet. I'll +reform outright, Noll. I'll never touch a card again as long as I live." +</p> + +<p> +"That's the talk!" said I heartily. "Eat something and let's have the +horses out for a gallop across Putney Heath." +</p> + +<p> +Next evening, early, being very miserable, I went round to the Blounts, +with whom I was very friendly. I forgot myself for a time, it being +impossible to think of anything while lying on my back on the hearth, with +baby Blount trying to pull my hair out by the roots and cutting a stubborn +tooth on my nose. He was a delightful, pitiless, young rascal and would +leave anything and anybody to maul me about. +</p> + +<p> +I had, however, for once mistaken my billet, for while thus engaged who +should come in with his mother but Margaret? +</p> + +<p> +"Aren't you afraid to trust baby with such an inexperienced nurse?" asked +Margaret, smiling at my discomfiture, for I had to lie there till I was +rescued from the young dog's clutches. +</p> + +<p> +"Not at all. When he's with a baby, he becomes a baby, which is what they +want. He'll make an ideal father, don't you think?" said her ladyship +happily. +</p> + +<p> +"I think he will," said Margaret in a very judicial tone, but she +coloured as she said it. +</p> + +<p> +While Lady Blount disposed of baby, Margaret beckoned me aside. "Oliver, +you'll do me a favour, won't you?" she asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"As I came here in a chair, I saw the Marquess going into White's. I fear +he may be gambling again. He easily yields to the temptation, and soon +becomes reckless. Will you call in, as if by chance, and coax him out? I +would have him saved from himself, and you have great influence over him." +</p> + +<p> +"If he won't come out," said I, smiling, "I'll lug him out!" +</p> + +<p> +I excused myself to Lady Blount and set forth on my errand, willingly +enough, since she desired it and I liked him, but all the way I thought of +her anxious face as she asked me. +</p> + +<p> +At White's I found Tiverton playing piquet with Brocton. A heap of +guineas was by his side, and he was flushed and excited with success. The +bout had attracted some attention, for the stakes were running high, and +eight or nine men were gathered round the players, among them Sir Patrick +Gee. I waited while the hand was played out. Tiverton repiqued his +opponent, and joyously raked over to his side of the table four tall piles +of guineas. +</p> + +<p> +It was my first meeting with Brocton. Chance and Margaret had brought us +together again. +</p> + +<p> +"Egad, Tiverton," said I to the Marquess, who now first observed me, "you +had the cards that time with a vengeance. Are you playing on? What about +your engagement with me?" +</p> + +<p> +The Marquess coloured slightly at my veiled rebuke. He looked doubtfully +at his watch, then at me, and finally at Brocton. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you had enough?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Enough?" cried Brocton. "Since you took up with farmers you've got +chicken-hearted at cards. Play on, my lord!" +</p> + +<p> +"I have told you," said I quietly to Brocton, "that his lordship has an +engagement with me. That should be enough. If you want your revenge, which +is natural, there are other nights available." +</p> + +<p> +"I want my revenge now, and will have it," he said meaningly, "and this +is how I serve men who come between me and my revenge." He was shuffling a +pack of cards as he spoke, and, with the words, he flung them in my face. +</p> + +<p> +At most of the tables play stopped, and the players there became silently +intent on this new game where the stakes ran highest of all. It meant a +fight, a fight between an expert swordsman and a man who knew nothing of +the craft. To such a fight there could be but one end. +</p> + +<p> +Tiverton was beside himself. "She'll never forgive me!" he muttered, and +I looked amusedly at him and whispered, "Who? The nabobess?" +</p> + +<p> +He was the highest in rank there, and as such a court of appeal and a +sort of master of the ceremonies. +</p> + +<p> +"My Lord Tiverton," said I aloud, "I am, as you know, a recent arrival in +town from the Americas and other outlandish places, and, naturally enough +under these circumstances, I am not clear on some points." +</p> + +<p> +"It's clear you've been swiped across the face," broke in Sir Patrick Gee. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold your tongue, sir!" said Tiverton, looking quietly at him. "Proceed, +Mr. Wheatman!" +</p> + +<p> +It made me smile again, tight as the corner was, to see the play-acting +spirit creeping over him. He was beginning to enjoy himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Therefore, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions," I +continued. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, sir," he replied, with great impressiveness, taking snuff in +great style while he awaited my questioning. +</p> + +<p> +"Is there any doubt that I am the insulted person?" +</p> + +<p> +"None whatever," he replied. "My Lord Brocton insulted you wantonly and +deliberately." +</p> + +<p> +"Then, my lord Marquess, I may be wrong, but I think I have the right of +choosing the place, the time, and the weapons." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, Mr. Wheatman," he answered. +</p> + +<p> +"Then if I choose to say, 'On the banks of the Susquehanna, ten years +hence, with tomahawks,' so it must be?" +</p> + +<p> +A wave of scornful laughter went round the room as the question passed +from mouth to mouth. Even the most ardent gamblers left their play to join +the circle around us. English even in their vices, they took a fight for +granted, but were up in a moment to see some fun. +</p> + +<p> +The Marquess was disconcerted. He obviously felt that I was about to +reflect on him in the gravest way; that, in short, I was backing out. He +would be tarnished by the dishonour that had driven me out of the world of +gentlemen. +</p> + +<p> +"I think," said he, "that would be overstraining the privileges of an +insulted gentleman." + +"Run away, farmer!" bellowed Sir Patrick raucously. +</p> + +<p> +Tiverton looked disdainfully at him. "You may like to know, my lords and +gentlemen," he said, as grandly as if he were reciting a set piece from +the stage, "that on the night of his arrival from Boston my friend was +rudely insulted in the Strand by a certain person." Here he stopped, +whirled round on the hulking scoundrel, and added grimly to him, "I shall +finish the story unless you leave the room at once." +</p> + +<p> +Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my +unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty. +</p> + +<p> +I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton. On +his face and in his cruel eyes there were the same gloating anticipations +that were there when, in Marry-me-quick's cottage, he thought he was +bending Margaret to his foul will. You could have heard a card drop in +that crowded room. +</p> + +<p> +My time had come to the tick. Stretching myself taut, I said slowly and +distinctly, "Here. Now. Fists." +</p> + +<p> +Brocton went limp and ghastly. I strode up to him, took him, unresisted, +by the scruff of the neck, and then said curtly, "Open the door, Tiverton." +</p> + +<p> +The willing little Marquess ran delightedly to do my bidding, and I +kicked my lord Brocton into the kennel and out of my life. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning I went round to Tiverton's as usual, and while he was at +breakfast, and we were starting our usual round of talk, in came Sir James +Blount, a stranger at such an hour. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you heard the news?" he asked abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +"What news?" asked Tiverton, rather sour at being cheated out of his +morning's consolatory grumble with me. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Freake has declared that Miss Waynflete is to be his sole heiress," +he replied. +</p> + +<p> +I had to thump Tiverton to prevent him being choked by something that +went the wrong way. We had an excited talk about the news, which Sir James +had received direct from Master Freake, which settled it as a fact beyond +dispute or change. Margaret was now the most desirable match in London +from every point of view. Blount went away quite pleased with the stir he +had made. +</p> + +<p> +"Henry! Henry!" yelled Tiverton as soon as we were alone, and in came his +man hastily. "Henry! What the devil do you mean by putting me into these +old rags? Damme! I look like a chairman. Go and get some decent things +out, you old rascal! I'm to call on the greatest lady in London town." +</p> + +<p> +He hurried off after his servant, and I heard him singing and shouting +over his second toilet. I crept miserably out of the house and made my way +to the mews. The ostler saddled my horse, a beautiful chestnut mare which +Master Freake had given me, and I rode out of town, deep in thought. +Mechanically, I went the way we had intended to go, and found myself at +last on the heights that overlook London from the north. Then I pulled up. +</p> + +<p> +The towers of the Abbey stood out nobly against the steel-blue sky. +Within their shadow was Master Freake's house where, by now, Tiverton +would not have pleaded his love in vain. I saw her there, in the splendid +room she always dimmed with her greater splendour, the exquisite Marquess +at her feet, happy in possession of the pearl of great price. Over this +vision a shadow came, and I saw the house-place at the Hanyards, with our +widowed Kate alone in her sorrow. Her flame-red hair was white as snow and +tears of blood were on her cheeks. Donald's farewell, <i>Weird mun hae +way</i>, boomed in my ears like a dirge. With a sigh that was near of kin +to a sob, I pulled the mare round and urged her northwards, northwards and +homewards. +</p> + +<p> +In my fear and trembling I shirked everything, doing childishly and more +than childishly. I was not on Sultan, and when I rode out of Lichfield I +hugged that simple fact to my heart. So much of my dream had at least not +come true, and I gave the lie to more of it by leaving the high road and +wandering devious ways till, within four or five miles of home, I left +even the by-ways and kept to the fields. So keen was I on my little +stratagems that I rode over the Upper Hanyards without once recalling the +fact that it was now mine as it had been my father's before me. About four +o'clock on a December day, just over a year since leaving home, I leaped +the mare over a hedge and was at the old gate. +</p> + +<p> +More of the dream was untrue. The winter sun was dropping down to the +hill-tops like a great carbuncle set in gold, and the Hanyards was all +aglow in its flaming rays. The gate was open, so that I could at least +begin by pitching into Joe Braggs for his negligence, and the windows of +the house-place shimmered a welcome because of the cheerful blaze within. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul stirred. I jumped down, threw the reins over the gate-post, +and walked stealthily into the yard and up to the window. Still not a soul +stirred. +</p> + +<p> +I peeped in. +</p> + +<p> +There was our Kate, leaning lovingly over my chair, pillowed as she had +never pillowed it for me, and in the chair was clearly a man, for I could +see his stockings and breeches stretching comfortably past her skirts. She +laughed merrily at something said, and then stooped and kissed the person +in the chair. +</p> + +<p> +This was woman's faith! With a great clatter, I strode into the porch, +thrust open the door, and stepped in. There was a shout of delight, a +babble of, "It's our Noll! It's our Noll!" and Kate leaped into my arms +and rained kisses on me. +</p> + +<p> +The man followed her, slowly and feebly, leaning heavily on a stick. When +he turned his face so that the firelight showed him up, my legs sank +beneath me and my knees knocked together. It was Jack, dear old Jack, +nothing but the shadow of himself, but still Jack right enough, and his +hand was in mine. +</p> + +<p> +"Run, Kit!" he cried. "Get some wine! The lad's overcome. God bless you, +old Noll, how are you?" +</p> + +<p> +Kate ran off into the parlour, where our wine was stored. +</p> + +<p> +"Jack!" +</p> + +<p> +"Hello, Noll!" +</p> + +<p> +"I thought I'd killed you." +</p> + +<p> +"Was it you?" he asked, all amazed at my self-accusation. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," I faltered. +</p> + +<p> +"By gom, Noll, you did give me a sock!" +</p> + +<p> +He heard Kate tripping back with the wine, and put his finger on his lips +for a warning. And that was the first and last remark Jack Dobson made on +the subject. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h2> + +<h3>THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN</h3> + +<p> +It took me to cure Jack. I administered one dose of medicine and he at +once began to fill out and get strong and chesty in a manner almost +absurd, whereon there was much twitting of our Kate who, in her old way, +rated me soundly in public and crept up to me in private, and kissed me +and wept gladly in the most approved maiden-like style. +</p> + +<p> +This was the way of it. I sent Joe Braggs into Stafford the day after I +got home to fetch out Master Dobson, and had him alone in my room. True he +was as near and grasping as ever, but I saw even this side of him in a new +light now, for he had been near and grasping for Jack. He was rather +uncertain when we met; glad enough, of course, to see an old friend back +again safe and sound, but dubious on the main point. +</p> + +<p> +"Master Dobson," said I, "your Jack desires to wed our Kate." +</p> + +<p> +"So he tells me," said he dolefully, rubbing his thin finger under the +edge of his bob-wig to scratch his perplexed head. +</p> + +<p> +"She is an excellent young woman, and a comely," said I, grinning at him. +</p> + +<p> +"Undoubtedly," he conceded. +</p> + +<p> +"But, as the head of the family, Master Dobson, I offer no objection to +the proposal." Much it would have mattered if I had, but I always take +credit when and while I can. +</p> + +<p> +"It's very kind of you, Ol ... Mr. Wheatman," said he, "but...." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said I encouragingly. +</p> + +<p> +"But there's what I may call the material side of the matter to be +considered. My son's bride should be suitable from the business point of +view." +</p> + +<p> +"I've been considering that point, Master Dobson. It is undoubtedly +important. Jack's a careless young dog, and I'm sure our Kate is just the +woman he wants from a business point of view. She'll keep an eye on every +meg in his pockets." +</p> + +<p> +"Tut, tut!" said he, stirred to action, as I knew he would be. "You +mistake me completely. My son will not be wanting in this world's gear and +he must have a wife to match." +</p> + +<p> +"I see," said I. "One with something substantial in her pocket." +</p> + +<p> +"Precisely," said he. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Master Dobson, if our Kate is willing to marry your Jack, a point +on which I can offer only a conjecture, she will marry him with five +thousand pound in her pocket." +</p> + +<p> +He sat bolt upright and stared at me with his mouth wide open. +</p> + +<p> +We fetched them in, mother coming with them, and the old man there and +then gave them his blessing. Kate ran into mother's arms, while Jack wrung +my hand and danced for joy. Afterwards he ate the most astonishing dinner +imaginable, loudly asseverating that he was as right as nine-pence and +sick of slops. +</p> + +<p> +My coming back made a great noise all over our countryside. Of what I had +actually done there was no knowledge whatsoever. The tale went that I had +been to America and found a goldmine, and come home and bought back the +lost Hanyards. Acute sceptics in barbers' shops and market ordinaries +advanced the opinion that it must have been a very little goldmine, but +they were unable to substitute any other explanation and so fell into +contempt. The tale suited me and I never contradicted it. In a world where +a man who has travelled to London is a person of consideration and renown, +I, who had been to America, was as a god. My first visit to Stafford put +the sleepy old town into commotion. +</p> + +<p> +Every night around the fire in the house-place I told them of my +adventures. Jack, the sly fox, sat among his cushions, which he had not +been fool enough to discard along with his slops, with Kate on a low stool +at his knees. The vicar sat by mother's side on the settle. I drew a chair +close to her, so that her hand could clasp mine as I talked, and very +helpful I found it, for she understood in silence and in silence comforted +me. Jane laid supper, taking a long time over it, for between journeys to +and from the kitchen she would stand behind the settle and listen +wide-eyed to a spell of my talk. Every night the vicar said grace, adding, +in his simple, apostolic way, a special thanksgiving to the good God who +had brought the young lad safe home again, through perils by sea and +perils by land, and out of the very hands of evil men who had compassed +him about to destroy him. Then, after supper, I escorted the good man home +and came back through the moonlit lanes; and every night, without fail, I +went and stood on the very spot where the gaff had slipped out of my +collar, and I had turned round to see Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +The only discontented person in our little circle was Joe Braggs, who had +caught the dace that caught the jack, and so started me out of my jog-trot +yeoman's round into the great world of life and adventure. Joe had done +well while I had been away; our fields had yielded fruitfully under his +care as bailiff; and, having had a favourable harvest, we were much money +in hand on the year's working. I had thanked him heartily, confirmed him +as my bailiff now that I was back, and given him fifty guineas, a sum +which to him was wealth untold. Still the rascal was not satisfied, and +went about with a bear on his back, as Jane had it, so that I was greatly +tempted to clip his ear for him. +</p> + +<p> +The day before Christmas, he was busy all morning under Jane's garrulous +command, getting in bunches of holly and other evergreens from the +hedgerows. His last journey had been to one of the farms on the Upper +Hanyards in quest of mistletoe, which grew abundantly there in an ancient +orchard. On getting back he had held a sprig over Jane's head for a +certain familiar and laudable purpose, and had been rewarded with a smack +that sounded like the dropping of an empty milk-pail. A little later I +found him glowering in a cowhouse, and had it out with him. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here, Joe, my lad," said I, "tell me straight what's the matter +with you or I'll break your head." +</p> + +<p> +"What d'ye want to come back 'ere for, upsettin' Jin like this'n?" he +blurted. +</p> + +<p> +"What the blazes have I done to upset Jin?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Why didna y' bring 'er back wi' ye, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who's her, you jolt-head?" I demanded angrily. +</p> + +<p> +"That leddy o' yourn. Jin's that upset 'er wunna luk at me, an' we wor +gettin' on fine." +</p> + +<p> +It was no use talking to Joe. I explained that she was a great lady and +was to marry a marquess, that is a much more important person than an +earl. He knew what an earl was, for of course he had heard of the 'Yurl,' +meaning that old rascal Ridgeley. A marquess, however, was outside his +ken, and the information was wasted. +</p> + +<p> +"Why didna y' marry 'er y'rsel', Master Noll, and bring 'er back 'ere, +then Jin wud 'a' bin all rate?" +</p> + +<p> +"I couldn't," said I. +</p> + +<p> +"Did y' ask 'er?" +</p> + +<p> +"No." +</p> + +<p> +"More fule yow," said he bitterly. "She'd 'a' 'ad y', rate enough. Jin +says so, an' 'er knows." +</p> + +<p> +What could be done with such a silly fellow? I left off discussing and +took him indoors with me. In front of Jane I pledged him in a mug of ale +and told him he was one of the best lads breathing, and I was greatly +beholden to him. In front of him I kissed Jane under the mistletoe and +told her that, bonny lass as she was, she was lucky to have the best lad +in Staffordshire. I left them in the kitchen, and heard no more crashes. +Later on, Joe whistled his three tunes with admirable skill and +intolerable persistency while, under Jane's orders, he took in charge the +boiling of the Christmas puddings in a vast iron pot hung over the kitchen +fire. +</p> + +<p> +It was growing dark. Everybody was happy. Mother was out and round the +village with her Christmas gifts, attended by one of our men and a cart +packed with good things. Nothing could have made her happier. Jack and +Kate were in the house-place busy with all sorts of housewiferies, in +which he was as interested as she. Joe and Jane were in the kitchen, as +merry as grigs. I went into my own room, across the passage from the +parlour, sacrosanct to me, my books and my belongings. +</p> + +<p> +There, too, was the great jack, set up to the very life by the skilful +hand of Master Whatcot. He appeared to be cleaving a bunch of reeds to +pounce on a dace, just as he had done once too often on that memorable +day. Brothers of the angle had made pilgrimages to see him from thirty +miles round, and it was an added charm to fancy that the monster had been +caught in a spot where Izaak Walton had fished as a boy, he having been +born and bred in these parts. My jack is a famous jack, for the curious +reader will find an account of him, with his dimensions and catching +weight exactly given, in Master Joshua Spindler's folio volume entitled +"Rudimenta Piscatoria, or the Whole Art of Angling set forth in a Series +of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son," London, 1751. No one who has yet +seen him has seen a bigger, though most of them have heard of one. +</p> + +<p> +I lit my candles, got my pipe going, and drew my chair near the fire to +read and smoke. It was, however, early days yet for me to read for long. +Moreover, by habit I had picked up my Virgil, and it was as yet impossible +for me to feel the tips of my fingers in the teeth-marks without thinking +of the poor wretch who had made them. I could see in exactest detail his +dead body lying in the road and Swift Nicks beside it, pitching the bag of +guineas up and down in the air, and smiling gleefully and yet wistfully at +me. From that grim event, whether my mind travelled backwards or forwards, +it traversed scenes such as few men are privileged, or fated, to pass +through. +</p> + +<p> +It was, again, too soon for me to realize the full effect of my +experiences on myself. I was not moody, as in the days aforetime. I +neither loathed my lot nor cursed my destiny. I had seen warfare and +bloodshed, I had had my heart wrung and my nerves racked, and now the +peaceful meadows winding along the river and stretching up to the purple +hills were dear to eyes from which the scales had fallen. This was the +life and labour on which the world was based, and it was worthy of any +man. I had seen Death the Harvester at work, and he was a less alluring +figure than Joe Braggs with a flashing sickle in his hand and a swathe of +golden grain under his arm. +</p> + +<p> +I should never be really alone again. I had company of which I should +never tire as I sat here with my memories. Margaret was rarely absent from +my mind, and every memory of her was a blessing and an inspiration. I did +not regret my love, foolish and vain as it had been. The thing that really +mattered was that Jack was alive. I could now look back on everything +without bitterness. If Margaret came for me now, to call me forth to +another hard round of struggle and adventure, I should be off with her +like a shot. She had made a splendid companion. She would make a splendid +marchioness. Some day, when the pain would not be unendurable, I would go +to London and steal another peep at those matchless eyes and that tower of +golden, gleaming hair. +</p> + +<p> +I did not hear the door open, but I heard mother's calm voice, gently +reproving Jane for an unseemly giggle. A pair of arms crept round my neck, +and slim white fingers cupped my chin. Kate did not know that it was I who +had so nearly sent her sweetheart to an untimely grave, for Jack had +sternly forbidden me to mention the subject to anyone, and, as I have +said, it might never have happened so far as he was concerned. Therefore +Kate, always a loving and attentive sister, was now more loving and +attentive than ever because she knew in her heart that, though I had +gained much in my wanderings, I had lost the one thing she had found in +the quiet sickroom where, during long weary months, she had lured Jack +back to life. It was always her task to fetch me from my books and my +thoughts to the beloved circle in the house-place, when, as now, she had +prepared a dish of tea for us. +</p> + +<p> +The soft resolute hands raised my chin, and I gasped as I looked into +Margaret's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +She lightly held me down, and, as if we had only parted five minutes +before in the house-place, began to speak, quietly but rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +"Oliver, do you remember waking me in the barn?" +</p> + +<p> +I nodded. I was too amazed to speak, and there was that in her eyes which +made me tremble. +</p> + +<p> +"I was dreaming," she said, and I nodded again and remembered how she had +flushed like the dawn. +</p> + +<p> +"Because you are the greatest goose of a man that ever lived, I am going +to tell you my dream. I dreamed that you were carrying me across the Pearl +Brook, and as you carried me the brook got wider and wider--you had made +it as wide as you could, you know--until it seemed as if we should never +get across it. And you would not put me down, though I begged you to do +so, but carried me on and on. You grew tired and weary, and your face went +white and drawn, as I find it now, but you would not let me go. Was it not +a curious dream, Oliver?" +</p> + +<p> +Again I nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"Why can't you speak, Oliver? Anything would make it less hard. Then, +because you were so weary, and so good to me, and so faithful, and +long-enduring, I did in my dream ... in my dream, you mark ... something +very un-maidenly ... and immediately we were both on the other side; and I +awoke as you put me down at last and found you by my side, having, in your +knightly unselfishness, ruined your hat to give me a drink of milk. And +because you are the best man on earth, and also a blind silly goose, +Oliver, and I must take some risk or lose my all, I am going ... to do the +unmaidenly thing I did in my dream ... and ... you ... must not misjudge +me, Oliver." +</p> + +<p> +She stopped, smiled as only Margaret can, and bent her head until a loose +coil of amber hair fell on my face Then she brushed it aside and, after a +little gasping cry, kissed me on the lips. +<br> +<br> +<br> +</p> + +<h2><a name="epilogue">EPILOGUE</a></h2> + +<p> +THE LITTLE JACK +</p> + +<p> +AT THE HANYARDS STAFFORDSHIRE <i>August 9th, 1757</i> +</p> + +<p> +Margaret and I had a hot dispute this morning. True she went away, +singing happily, to rebuild the masses of yellow hair that had fallen all +over her shoulders and mine, for the dreadful stuff seems to tumble down +if I look at it, but still we had disputed, and vigorously, too. The plain +fact is she had sniffed at Aristotle. +</p> + +<p> +The trouble arose out of this story of mine which I have been busy +writing for the last twenty months. It has been hard work, for I was new +to the business, and had to learn how to do it, but it has been a pleasant +task and a labour of love. Now we disputed about it. I said it was +finished. She said it wasn't. I said I ought to know. She replied not +necessarily, since I was such a great goose. Then I loaded my big gun and +thought to blow her clean out of the water. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Margaret," said I, "Aristotle lays it down that every work of +art has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning of our story was +the catching of the great jack, the middle of it was the fight at the 'Red +Bull,' and the end of it was the kiss you gave me. You see, dear, how +exactly I have done what Aristotle says I ought to do." +</p> + +<p> +"Bother Aristotle! What does he know about us?" It was here that she +sniffed, not figuratively but actually. That is to say she held up her +nose, on pretence of looking at me, and audibly ... well, sniffed. There's +no other word for it. Then she cried triumphantly, "What is the use, Noll, +of telling our story and not saying a single word about the most important +people in it?" +</p> + +<p> +To this question I made no reply. I was beaten. Aristotle, had he been in +my place, would have been beaten too. If we had been in town I would have +run round to Mr. Johnson's and asked him to assist me, but I feel sure he +would have been as helpless as I was. There was no reply, so I contented +myself with playing with her gorgeous hair till it was all a-tumble to the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +Bother Aristotle! I must do as Margaret bids. +</p> + +<hr> + +<p> +The Colonel and Master Freake were in the house-place when, at last, that +memorable Christmas Eve, I proudly took my Margaret there. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said I to the former, before he had ceased his hearty handshake, +"I love Margaret dearly and Margaret loves me. May we be married?" +</p> + +<p> +"You young dog! What d'ye say to that, John?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing is nearer to my heart," said the great merchant of London, +giving me his hand in turn. +</p> + +<p> +"Nor to mine, so that settles it," cried the Colonel, fishing out his +snuff-box, while I led Margaret up to mother. +</p> + +<p> +We spent a happy Christmas as lovers, and were married on New Year's Day +by the vicar. +</p> + +<p> +Jack and Kate were married in the spring, by which time he was as well +and strong as ever. For years I feared lest his severe wound should have +left some permanent source of weakness, but happily my fears were +ill-founded. Jack, having had enough of soldiering, took to business at +Master Freake's suggestion. He has developed all his father's shrewdness +while retaining all his own boyish charm. He is now Master Freake's right +hand, in the great London house of Freake & Dobson. Kate is Kate still, +ardent, busy, level-headed, and loving, and the happy mother of three +girls and a boy. Jack and I are as twins to one another. +</p> + +<p> +In the summer after our wedding, Margaret and I went our journey over +again. We saw Cherry-Cheeks, and made sure that Sim should have not only a +good wife but a good business of his own to keep her on. We found out +sweet Nance Lousely, and filled her pinner full of guineas after all, and +left her tearful and happy. We knelt together by a simple grave in the +Catholic burial-ground at Leek, and on the top of Shap we stood, with +tears in our eyes, beside the great stone that marked the resting-place of +Donald and his chief. +</p> + +<p> +I did become a Parliament man, as Master Faneuil had said I should, and +am a strong supporter of Mr. Pitt. We spend part of each year in London, +where the Marquess is our great friend. He married the nabobess after all, +and she loved him well enough to make it her business to reform him. He +vows she is the finest woman in England, with a head on her shoulders as +good as Mr. Freake's. She makes a good marchioness, too, for she always +had sense, and has developed dignity. +</p> + +<p> +But most of our time we spend at the Hanyards, which I have made into a +fine house by careful changes. Master Joe Braggs and Mistress Jane Braggs +are our loyal, willing servants and our friends, and are as happy as +sandboys together. They have now quite a large family. +</p> + +<p> +To-day we are all together again for a long stay at the Hanyards. The +Archdeacon of Lichfield, once our beloved vicar, is with us, simple, +fatherly, and learned as of old. I can see his white head when I lift mine +up from my writing. He is sunning himself in the garden and talking with +mother, who turns her eyes now and again to look at the road, for Kate and +Jack are coming in from Stafford with their children. +</p> + +<p> +All these are familiar names, but it is fit that the record should be +given before I go back to Margaret's sniff at Aristotle. For while I was +busying myself with her hair, who should come in sight, walking through +the orchard from the river, but the Colonel and Master Freake. They +stopped to join mother and the Archdeacon in their talk, and we, looking +at them, were proud and happy in the knowledge of their love for us. +</p> + +<p> +Then there was a great clatter and chattering and excited shouting +without. Margaret had left the door of my study open, and in raced the +most important people in our story. They had a tale too big for coherent +talk, and they gabbled away, one after the other or both together, to tell +us all about it. +</p> + +<p> +It was Oliver who had done it. He held up with a pride that made him +splutter a little jack about fourteen inches long, which he had just +caught. They say he is his father over again. At any rate, he will fish +morning, noon, and night, if he can coax one of us elders to go with him +to take care of him. +</p> + +<p> +There he stood, the fish dangling at arm's length, telling his mother +exactly how he had done it. I do not pretend to be impartial, but a finer +boy than mine is not to be found. He drops the fish to the floor to rush +into his mother's arms to be kissed and praised. +</p> + +<p> +I am busy, too; busy as I love best of all to be. For on my knee, her +arms round my neck and her great mane of glorious wheat-coloured hair +tickling my face, is the dearest little creature on God's earth, my other +Margaret. If you want to see me when I am intensely proud and happy, you +must see me with her at my side walking in the Park or down the Green Gate +at Stafford, with all eyes turning on her because of her surpassing +childish beauty. +</p> + +<p> +"I helped him catch it, daddy," she says, lifting up her face to be kissed. +</p> + +<p> +So does history repeat itself, and it is settled at once that Noll's jack +is to be put by Master Whatcot in the same case as dad's, for all the +world to know that he is as good a fisherman as his father before him. Joe +is to send it to Stafford at once, and the two rush off eagerly to give it +to him, leaving us alone. +</p> + +<p> +To the glowing beauty of her maidenhood Margaret has added the serene +beauty of motherhood. That is all the change I can see in her, as I put my +arms round her and draw her to me. +</p> + +<p> +When she could speak she said happily, "Well done fisherman!" +</p> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Yeoman Adventurer, by George W. 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Gough + +Posting Date: August 4, 2012 [EBook #7326] +Release Date: January, 2005 +First Posted: April 14, 2003 +Last Updated: October 2, 2005 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER *** + + + + +Produced by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + + + + + + +The Yeoman Adventurer + +By George Gough + + + +To + +A. D. Steel-Maitland, M.P. + +In Gratitude and Admiration + + + +CONTENTS + + +I. THE GREAT JACK + +II. THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS + +III. MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE + +IV. OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES + +V. THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE + +VI. MY LORD BROCTON + +VII. THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL + +VIII. THE CONJURER'S CAP + +IX. MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN + +X. SULTAN + +XI. IN WHICH I SLIP + +XII. THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN" + +XIII. PHARAOH'S KINE + +XIV. "WAR HAS ITS RISKS" + +XV. IN THE MOORLANDS + +XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE + +XVII. MY NEW HAT + +XVIII. THE DOUBLE SIX + +XIX. WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY + +XX. THE COUNCIL AT DERBY + +XXI. MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST + +XXII. A BROTHER OF THE LAMP + +XXIII. DONALD + +XXIV. MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT + +XXV. I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON + +XXVI. THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN + +EPILOGUE: THE LITTLE JACK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GREAT JACK + + +Our Kate, Joe Braggs, and I all had a hand in the beginning, and as great +results grew in the end out of the small events of that December morning, +I will set them down in order. + +It began by my refusing point-blank to take Kate to the vicar's to watch +the soldiers march by. I loved the vicar, the grave, sweet, childless old +man who had been a second father to me since the sad day which made my +mother a widow, and but for the soldiers nothing would have been more +agreeable than to spend the afternoon with the old man and his books. But +my heart would surely have broken had I gone. A caged linnet is a sorry +enough sight in a withdrawing-room, but hang the cage on a tree in a +sunlit garden, with free birds twittering and flitting about it, and you +turn dull pain into shattering agony. The vicar's little study, with the +rows of books he had made me know and love with some small measure of his +own learning and passion, was the perch and seed-bowl of my cage, the +things in it, after my sweet mother and saucy Kate, that made life +possible, but still part of the cage, and it would have maddened me to hop +and twitter there in sight of free men with arms in their hands and +careers in front of them. Jack Dobson would march by, the sweetness of +life for Kate--little dreamed she that I knew it--but for me the +bitterness of death. Jack Dobson! I liked Jack, but not clinquant in +crimson and gold, with spurs and sword clanking on the hard, frost-bitten +road. I laughed at the idea; Jack Dobson, whom I had fought time and time +again at school until I could lick him as easily as I could look at him; +Jack Dobson, a jolly enough lad, who fought cheerily even when he knew a +sound thrashing was in store for him, but all his brains were good for was +to stumble through _Arma virumque cano_, and then whisper, "Noll, you +can fire a gun and shoot a man, but how can you sing 'em?" And because his +thin, shadowy, grasping father was a man of much outward substance and +burgess for the ancient borough, Jack was cornet in my Lord Brocton's +newly raised regiment of dragoons, this day marching with other of the +Duke of Cumberland's troops from Lichfield to Stafford. And for me, the +pride of old Bloggs for Latin and of all the lads for fighting, the most +stirring deed of arms available was shooting rabbits. So, consuming +inwardly with thoughts of my hard fate, I refused to go to the vicar's. +Mother should go. For her it would be a real treat, and Kate would be the +better under her quiet, seeing eyes. + +"Well then," said Kate, "grump at home over your beastly Virgil." Mother, +who understood as only mothers can, said nothing, and prepared my +favourite dishes for dinner. + +The meal over, and the house-place 'tidied,' which seldom meant more than +the harassing of a few stray specks of dust, Kate in her best fripperies +and mother in her churchgoing gown started for the vicar's. I stood in the +porch and watched them across the cobbled yard and along the road till +they dropped out of sight beyond the bridge. + +Then Kate's share of these introductory events became manifest. Search +high, search low, there was no sign of my dear, dumpy Virgil, in yellowing +parchment with red edges. I found Kate's cookery-book, and would have +flung it through the window, but my eye caught the quaint inscription on +the fly-leaf, in her big, pot-hooky handwriting: + + "KATHERINE WHEATMAN, her book, + God give her grease to larn to cook. + + At the Hanyards. + Jul. 1739." + +The simple words stung me like angry hornets. Our red-headed Kate was no +scholar, but at any rate her reading was more useful in our little world +than mine; for this was where she learned the artistry of the dainties and +devices Jack Dobson and I were so fond of. And if I did not soon learn to +do something well, even were it only how to farm my five hundred acres to +a profit, Kate's cooking would really require the miraculous aid suggested +in her unintentional and, to me, biting epigram. I put the book down, and +gave over the hunt for my Virgil. It would probably be useless in any +case, since Kate had a cunning all her own, and had surely bestowed it far +beyond any searching of mine. I contented myself with a fair reprisal, +stowing a stray ribbon of hers in my breeches' pocket, and sat down to +smoke. My pipe would not draw, and I smashed it in trying to make it. + +The tall oak clock tick-tocked on in the house-place, and Jane sang on at +her churning in the dairy across the yard. I sat gazing at the fire, where +I could see nothing but Jack Dobson in his martial grandeur, and I hated +him for his greatness, and despised myself for my pettiness. All the same +it was unendurable, and it was a relief to see Joe Braggs tiptoeing +carefully across the yard dairywards. The rascal should have been patching +a gap in the hedge of Ten-acres, and here he was, foraging for a jug of +ale. He could wheedle Jane as easily as he could snare a rabbit, but I +would scarify him out of his five senses, the hulk. + +The singing stopped, and then the churning, and five minutes later I +crept up to the kitchen door, which was ajar. There was my lord Joe, a jug +of ale in hand, his free arm round Jane's neck. How endurable these two +found life at the Hanyards! I caught a fragment of their gossip. + +"Be there such things as rale quanes, Jin?" + +"Of course," she replied. "There's pictures of 'em in one of Master +Noll's books. Crowns on their yeds, too." + +"There's one on 'em down 'tour house, Jin, but she ain't got no crown. +But bless thee, wench, I'd sooner kiss thee than look at fifty quanes." + +Jane yelped as I murdered an incipient kiss by knocking the jug out of +his hand across the kitchen, but in kicking him out of doors I tripped +over a bucket of water, and about half a score fine dace flopped miserably +on the wet floor. + +"Dunna carry on a' that'n, Master Noll," said Joe. "I only com' up t'ouse +to bring you them daceys." + +"And what the devil do I want with them?" said I angrily. + +Joe knew me. He said, "There's a jack as big as a gate-post in that 'ole +between the reeds along th' 'igh bonk." + +He saw the cock of my eye, and went on: "I saw 'im this mornin', an' +'eard 'im. 'E made a splosh like a sack o' taters droppin' off the bridge. +So I just copped 'e a few daceys, thinkin' as you'd be sure to go after +'im." + +"Put them in some fresh water, Joe, and you, Jane, fill him another jug. +I'll own up to Mistress Kate for smashing the other." + +I fetched my rod and tackle, picked up the bucket of dace, and set off +across the fields to the river. The bank nearer the house, and about three +hundred yards from it, stood from two to six feet above the water, being +lowest where a brick bridge carried the road to the village. The opposite +bank was very low, and was fringed in summer with great masses of reeds +and bulrushes, now withered down nearly to nothing, but still showing the +pocket of deep water where the jack had "sploshed like a sack o' taters." +It was opposite the highest part of our bank--the Hanyards was bounded by +the river in this direction--and the bridge was about one hundred yards +down-stream to my left. In a few minutes a fine dace was swimming in the +gap as merrily as the tackle would let him. + +For an hour or more I took short turns up and down the bank, just far +enough from the edge to keep my cork in view. If the jack was there, he +made no sign, and at length my sportsman's eagerness began to flag, and my +eye roamed across the meadows to the church spire, under the shadow of +which life as I could never know it was lilting merrily northwards. Here I +was and here I should remain, like a cabbage, till Death pulled me up by +the roots. + +Worthy Master Walton says that angling is the contemplative man's +recreation, and, having had in these later years much to con over in my +mind, I know that he is right. But it is no occupation for a fuming man, +and as I marched up and down I forgot all about my cork, till, with a +short laugh that had the tail of a curse in it, I noted that a real gaff +was a silly weapon with which to cut down an imaginary Highlander, and +turned again to my angling. + +And at that very moment a thing happened the like of which I had never +seen before, and have not since seen in another ten years of fishing. My +rod was jerked clean off the bank, and careered away down-stream so fast +that I had to run hard to get level with it. Here was work indeed, and at +that joyous moment I would not have changed places with Jack Dobson. +Without ado, I jumped into the river, waded out, recovered the butt of my +rod, and struck. + +"As big as a gate-post." Joe was right. As I struck, the jack came to the +surface. The great stretch of yellow belly and the monstrous length of +vicious snout made my heart leap for joy. I would rather land him than +command a regiment. My rod bent to a sickle as I fought him, giving him +line and pulling in, again, again, and again. A dozen times I saw the +black bars on his shimmering back as he came at me, evil in his red-rimmed +eyes and danger in his cruel teeth, but the stout tackle stood it out. +Sweat poured off my forehead though I was up to the waist in ice-cold +water. Inch by inch I fought my way to the bank, and then fought on again +to get close to the bridge, where I could scramble out. + +Probably I was half an hour in getting him there, but at last, by giving +him suddenly a dozen yards of loose line to go at, I was able to climb on +to the bank and check him before he got across to the stumps of the reeds. +But here I met with disaster, for in climbing up I jerked the hook of my +gaff out of my collar, where I had put it for safety, and it fell into the +stream. + +"Stick to the fish," said some one behind me, "and leave the hook to me." + +"Thanks," said I briefly, for I was scant of breath, and continued the +struggle. + +A woman knelt on the bank, pulled the gaff in with a riding whip, plunged +down a shapely hand and recovered it. Then she stood behind me, watching +the fight. The jack, big and strong as he was, began to tire, and soon I +had him making short, sharp spurts in the shallow water at our feet. + +My new ally stood quietly on the bank, holding the gaff ready for the +right moment. It came: a deft movement, a good pull together, and the +great jack curled and bounced on the bank. + +"Over thirty pounds if he's an ounce!" I cried gleefully. + +"Well done, fisherman!" she said. "It was a splendid sight. I've watched +you all along. When you jumped into the river, I thought you were going to +drown yourself. You had been walking up and down in a most desperate and +dejected fashion." + +The raillery gave me courage to look into her eyes. I wondered if they +were black, but decided that they were not, since her hair was the colour +of wheat when it is ripening for the sickle and the summer sun falls on it +at eve. And I, who am six feet in my socks, had hardly to lower my eyes to +look into hers. Her face was beautiful beyond all imagining of mine. I had +conjured up visions of Dido enthralled of Aeneas, of Cleopatra bending +Antony to her whim. But the conscious art of my day-dreams had wrought no +such marvel as here I saw in very flesh before me. I felt as one who +drinks deep of some rich and rare vintage, and wonders why the gods have +blessed him so. And further, as small things jostle big things in the +mind, I knew that this was the real queen that had dazzled Joe Braggs. + +"What do you call it?" she said, looking down at the fish. + +"A jack, or pike, madam." + +"'The tyrant of the watery plains,' as Mr. Pope calls him. You've heard +of Mr. Pope, the poet?" She spoke as if 'No' was the inevitable answer. + +"Strictly speaking, no, madam," said I gravely, "but I have read his +so-called poems." She frowned. "Horace calls the jack," I continued, +"_lupus_, the wolf-fish, as one may say, and a very good name too. +Doubtless madam has heard of Horace." + +My quip brought a glint into her eyes and a richer colour to her cheek. +"Yes, heard of him," she said, with a trace of chagrin in her voice. "And +now, O Nimrod of the watery plains, how far is it to the village smithy?" + +"Just under a mile, madam." + +"And how long does it take to shoe a horse?" + +"How many shoes, madam?" + +Again the glint in her eyes, and this time I saw some of the blue in +them. "One, sir," she said shortly. + +"Ten to fifteen minutes, madam." + +"He's a very long time," she said under her breath. + +"The smith is probably very busy to-day." + +"Busy! Why so?" + +"The dragoons may have found him much work," said I, merely my way of +explaining the delay. But the words stabbed her. She laid a hand on my arm +and cried gaspingly, "Dragoons! What do you mean? Quick!" + +"The Duke of Cumberland is marching north from Lichfield against the +Stuart, and Lord Brocton's dragoons are in the village." + +"Brocton! O God! Brocton! My father is taken! And by Brocton!" She spoke +aloud in her agitation, and I saw that she was cut to the quick. And I +rejoiced, so strange is the human heart, that it was Lord Brocton's name +that came in anguish off her tongue. Oh for one blow at the man whose +father had harried mine into an untimely grave! + +In sharp, frosty air sound travels far across the meadows of the +Hanyards. The hills that hem the valley to the west perhaps act as a +sounding board. Anyhow, further inquiry as to her trouble was stopped by +the rattle of distant hoofs. We were standing now less than a dozen paces +from the bridge. A straggling hedge, on a low bank, crossed flush up to +the bridge by a stile, cut the field off from the road. I rushed to the +stile, and cautiously pushed my head through near the ground. Half a mile +of level road stretched to my right towards the village, and along it, and +now less than six hundred yards away, a squad of dragoons was galloping +towards us. The hedge was thin and leafless, and there was not cover +enough for a rabbit. I ran back. "Dragoons," said I. + +"After me," she replied carelessly, and I saw that danger for herself +left her cold. + +I kicked the great jack motionless, flung him to the foot of the bank +under the hedge, and the rod after him, hurried her up to the stile, +leaped into the water, took her in my arms, and carried her under the +bridge. In less than a minute after I stopped wading, the dragoons +clattered overhead. + +Not an hour ago I had been aching for life and adventures, and here I +was, up to the loins in water, with a goddess in my arms. Her right arm +was round my neck, and her cheek so near that I felt her sweet, warm +breath fanning my own. As the sounds died away, I turned and looked at her +face, and I had my reward. Her eyes told me that she thanked and trusted +me. + +"Well done, fisherman!" she said for the second time. + +"You're heavier than the jack," replied I, hitching her as far from the +water as possible before wading back. A minute later I put her down on the +bank with tumbled, yellow hair and face flaming red. I examined her +critically, and cried triumphantly, "Not a stitch wet!" + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS + + +I threw the jack across my shoulder and we started for the Hanyards. +Madam offered no explanations, and I made no inquiries. It was obvious to +me that the dragoons had gone on to the little hedge ale-house, a good, +long mile away, where the road from the village struck into a roundabout +road to Stafford. Here, in the "Bull and Mouth," Mother Braggs ruled by +day and Master Joe by night, and here beyond a doubt the stranger lady had +tarried while her father had gone on with the horses to the nearest smithy +at Milford. + +There was ample time to get to the Hanyards, but still, for safety's +sake, we kept behind hedges as far as possible. She walked ahead, and I +followed behind, water oozing out of my boots and breeches at every step, +and the jack's tail flopping against my legs. Never had I gone home from +fishing with such prizes. What pleased me most was her silence. It matched +the trust in her eyes. Except for brief instructions as to the direction, +no word passed until we gained the Hanyards from the rear, and I led her +into the house-place unobserved by anyone. + +"There is little time to talk," I began. "The dragoons are certain to +come here, as this is the only house between the inn and the village. Your +father is, you fear, a prisoner, and indeed it seems the only explanation +of his absence. I do not ask why. I gather that there is no purpose to be +served by your sharing his fate." + +"Free, I may be able to help him. A prisoner, I should...." She stopped, +hesitating. + +"My Lord Brocton?" said I interrogatively. For the second time her face +burned, and I saw in it shame and distress and fear. My lord was piling up +a second account with me, and for humbling this proud beauty he should one +day pay the price in full. + +But it was time to act. I ran to the porch and roared out, "Jane! Jane! +Where are you? Come here quick!" + +Jane came running in from the kitchen. She stopped dead with surprise +when she saw my companion, and could not even cackle on about the jack. + +"Now, Jane, do exactly what I say. Take this lady upstairs and dress her +as nearly like yourself as you can. It's good you are much of a height. +Pack her own clothes carefully out of sight. Off, quick!" + +They disappeared upstairs, and I watched the yard gate with eager eyes. +No dragoons appeared, and in a short time madam and Jane were back in the +house-place. Jane had done her work well. The great lady was now a fine +country serving-wench, her shapeliness obscured in a homespun gown that +fitted only where it touched, her feet in huge, rough boots, her yellow +hair plastered back off her forehead and bunched into one of Jane's +'granny caps,' and indeed totally hidden by the large flap thereof, which +in Jane's case served the purpose of "keepin' the draf out'n 'er +neck-hole" when she was at work in the dairy. For my share of disguising, +I now rubbed together some ruddle and dry soil, and the mixture gave a +necessary touch of coarseness to her hands. Altogether she was changed out +of recognition, even if, which was not the case, any of her pursuers had +seen her previously. + +"Jane," said I, "her name is Molly Brown. She has served here two years. +Her mother lives at Colwich. Have you both got that?" + +"Molly Brown--two years--mother at Colwich," said madam with a smile, and +Jane repeated it after her. + +"Now, Molly," said I, with an answering smile, "Jane will start you +churning. It's an easy job. You just turn a handle till the butter comes. +Do not flatter yourself that you'll get any butter, but I'll forgive you +that. And, having learned from Jane how to pretend to do it, you need not +churn in earnest till the dragoons ride into the yard. Listen to Jane, and +you, Jane, for the next ten minutes, teach the lady how to talk +Staffordshire fashion." + +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said Jane, who was plainly bursting with the +importance of her task. + +"First lesson, madam," said I. "'Rate y'are,' not 'Right you are!' It was +not Mr. Pope's manner of speech, but it will suit your circumstances +better. Off to the dairy, and leave the dragoons to me!" + +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said madam, and, our anxieties +notwithstanding, we both joined in Jane's rattle of laughter. + +They went off to the dairy, and I began my own preparations. I displayed +the great jack in full view on the table, forestalling Kate's housewifely +objections by disposing him on an old coat of mine, so that he should not +mess the table. In the house-place he looked much finer and longer than in +the open air, and I gloated over him as he lay there. I longed to change +my clothes, not so much for comfort's sake as to cut a better figure in +her eyes; but I dared not run the risk of not being at hand when the +dragoons arrived. I drew a quart jug of ale, threw most of it away, got +down a horn drinking-cup, drank a little, spilled some down my clothes, +slopped some on the table, made up the fire, and sat down to wait. It was +now about half-past three, the straw-coloured sun was perching on the +hill-tops, and darkness would soon be drawing on apace. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour I sat there, living over again the +precious minutes under the bridge, when the clatter of hoofs awakened me +to the realities of the situation. Peeping cautiously past the edge of the +blind, I saw the dragoons--there were six of them--ride up to the gate. +Sharp orders rang out, and three of the men dismounted, including him who +had given the orders, and came up the yard. One stayed at the gate to mind +the horses, and the other two trotted off on the scout round the fields +near the farm. + +I slipped back to my chair, and let my chin drop on my chest, as if I +were dozing in drink. + +Some one said at the porch door, "In the King's name!" I took no notice, +and they crowded, jingling and noisy, into the porch. Again sharp commands +were given; the two men grounded their arms with a clang on the stone +floor of the porch, and waited there. The man in command stepped forward +into the firelight and said crisply, "In the King's name!" + +It was idle to pretend any longer. I raised my head and blinked drunkenly +at him. Then I filled the horn, sang thickly and with beery gusto, "Here's +a health unto His Majesty," and said, "Fill up and drink, whoever you are, +and shut the door. It's damned cold." + +He had little, red, ferrety eyes, and they looked fiercely at +me--fiercely but not suspiciously, I thought. He waved my hospitality +aside, and said, "You are Oliver Wheatman?" + +"Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, Esquire, at His Majesty's service to +command," I replied with great gravity, and filled another horn of ale. I +might pretend to be drunk, but I could not, unfortunately, pretend to +drink, and it was strongish ale. He made a motion to stop me--welcome +proof that he believed me tipsy in fact--and said, "Master Wheatman, the +less drunken you are, the better you will answer my questions." + +"Sir," said I, draining off the horn, "I can drink and talk with any man +living, and, drunk or sober, I only answer the questions of my friends. So +get a horn off the dresser--I'm a bit tired--fill up, and tell me what you +want. D'you happen to be of my Lord Brocton's regiment?" + +"I am." + +"Then you'll be as drunk as me before you've finished with the Hanyards. +Our ale goes to the head most damnably quick, let me tell you. You tell my +dear old butty, the worshipful Master Jack Dobson, that I've caught a jack +half as thick and more than half as long as himself. Here it be. Fetch a +horn, I tell you, and drink to me and the two jacks--Jack Dobson and this +jack beauty here." + +He was getting no nearer to the object of his visit, and, perhaps +thinking it would be well to humour me, he fetched a horn and tried our +Hanyards ale. This gave me a chance of taking stock of him. + +He was a thin, wiry man of middle height and middle age. Such a face I +had never seen. The first sight of it made me suck in my breath as if I +had touched the edge of a razor. The bridge half of his nose had gone, or +he had never had it, and the lower half was stuck like a dab of putty +midway between mouth and eyebrows. His little, beady eyes were set in +large, shallow sockets, giving him an owl-like appearance. A mouth +originally large enough, and thickly lipped like a negro's, had been +extended, as it seemed, to his left ear by a savage sword slash which had +healed very badly. He had an air of mean, perky intelligence, as of one of +low rank and no breeding who had for many years been accustomed to cringe +to the great and domineer over smaller fry than himself. Some sort of +military rank he had, judging by his stained and frayed but once gaudy +jacket. He carried a tuck of unusual length, stretching along his left +side from heel to armpit, and a couple of pistols were stuck in his belt. + +He put down the horn, smacked his lips, and began: + +"Master Wheatman, I am searching for a Jacobite spy--a woman. We took her +father up at the 'Barley Mow,' and I learned from a man of yours that the +daughter was at his mother's ale-house down the road. She is not there, +and left to walk to meet her father, she said. She has certainly not done +that, and I have called to see if she is hiding here or hereabouts." + +"By gad, we'll nab her if she is," said I heartily. "She's not been +through that gate in the last half-hour, for it takes me that to drink yon +jug dry, and I started with it full. But I'll ask the maids. Mother and +our Kate are at the parson's yonder, gaping at you chaps. I dare say you +saw them." + +"No," said he doubtingly. + +One of the men stepped out of the porch, saluted, and, being bidden to +speak, informed his officer that he had seen Lord Brocton and Mr. Cornet +Dobson talking to two ladies. + +"That'd be they," I said, and going with unsteady steps to the door, I +vigorously shouted, "Jin, Moll, Jin, Moll, come here! They're in the +dairy," I added by way of explanation. + +The crucial moment came. Jane and 'Moll' scurried across the yard like +rabbits, but stopped at the porch door with well-simulated surprise at the +sight of the dragoons. + +"Gom, I thawt 'e'd set the house a-fire," said Jane thankfully, +addressing the company at large, and she bravely bustled through and +shrilled at me, "At it again, when your mother's out; y'd better get off +to bed afore she comes in. She'll drunk yer." + +Jane's acting was so much better than mine that I nearly lost my head at +being thus crudely accused before 'Moll,' but she went on remorselessly, +addressing the dragoon, "Dunna upset him for God's sake, Master Squaddy. +'E'm a hell-hound when 'e'm gotten a sup of beer in'im." + +"Don't trouble, my good girl. I'm used to his sort. Leave him to me and +answer my questions. The truth or the jail, my girl." + +"Yow," sniffed Jane, "he'd snap yow in two like a carrot. Bed's best +place for 'im. He's as wet as thatch with his silly jacking." + +"Jane," said I, "never mind me. I'm neither dry enough nor drunk enough +to go to bed yet. Captain here wants to ask you and Moll some questions. +Stop clacking at me like a hen at a weasel and listen to him." + +Jane went through the ordeal easily, appealing to 'Moll' for verification +at every turn, and so cleverly that the latter appeared to be as much +under examination as herself. Moreover, Jane stood square in the +firelight, but so as to keep 'Moll' shouldered behind the chimney in +comparative gloom. They'd been churning all afternoon, the butter was +there to be seen, stacks of it; nobody had been in or near the yard; the +gate had never clicked once, and nobody could open it without being heard +in the dairy. She overwhelmed the dragoon with her demonstrations of the +impossibility of anybody coming up the yard without her or 'Moll' knowing +it. + +"That's all right, Jane," said I, at length. "But she could easily have +got into the house or into the stables without you or Moll seeing her. +Let's all have a look for her. Unless she's small enough to creep into a +rat-hole, we'll soon find her." + +Sergeant Radford--to give him his name and rank, which I learned later +from Jack Dobson--agreed to this, and in my joy at knowing that the ordeal +was over, I was on the point of forgetting that I was drunk till I caught +the clear eyes of madam fixed in warning on me. Jane acted as leader to +the two dragoons in overhauling the barns and stabling, while 'Moll,' the +sergeant, and I searched the house as closely as if we were looking for a +lost guinea. Of course our efforts were futile, slow as we were so as not +to outpace my drunken footsteps, and careful as we were so as to satisfy +the keen eyes of the sergeant, who was very evidently on no new job so far +as he was concerned. 'Moll' too seemed jealous of Jane's laurels, and went +thoroughly into the business. She and the serjeant peeped together under +beds and into closets, and she laughed brazenly at certain not very +obscure hints of his as to the great services I should render to the +search-party if I kept my eye on the house-place. She even said, "Master +Noll, don't 'e think as 'ow th' ale be gettin' flat downstairs? It wunna +be wuth drinkin' if y'ain't sharp." + +The result was, that in about half an hour a thoroughly satisfied and +rather tired assembly filled the house-place, for the two scouts rode up +to the porch with the news that they, too, had found no trace of the +fugitive. With the sergeant's leave I sent the five dragoons into the +kitchen with the two maids to have a jug of ale apiece, while he stayed +with me in the house-place, to crack a bottle of wine. + +I hoped, but in vain, that he would tell me news of the stranger's +father, but he was too wary for that, and I did not dare to ask him. He +made close inquiries as to the lie of the land hereabouts, and I pointed +out that there was a field-path leading plainly to the village from the +other side of the bridge and coming out at an obscure stile at the back of +the "Barley Mow." The spy might have taken that and become alarmed. She +could then avoid the village by another plain path, and so get ahead of +the troops on the Stafford road. + +"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?" + +"Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to +find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!" + +"Ah!" + +"There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old +sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your +eyes on those big houses in the East Gate. As for me, look at that back +and breast and good broad-sword there. Damn me if I don't rub 'em up and +come and have a ding with 'em at these rebels. On Naseby Field they were, +Captain, long before your time and mine, but they did good work against +these same bloody Stuarts. Crack t'other bottle, there's a good fellow. +I'm dry with talking and wet with fishing, and it'll do me good." + +I pressed him to stay and 'have a good set to,' but he refused, and after +drinking enough to keep me dizzy for a week, he nipped out and ordered his +men to horse. I walked to the gate with him. He thanked me for my help and +good cheer, and said it was quite clear that the spy was nowhere in or +near the Hanyards. I renewed my greetings to Cornet Dobson and even sent +my respects to his lordship. Off they rode, and it was with a thankful +heart that, remembering my happy condition in time, I stumbled back up the +yard to the house-place, where madam and beaming Jane were awaiting me. + + + +CHAPTER III + +MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE + + +Jane had taken the lady back to the house-place and was hovering around +her, with little of the grace of a maid-of-honour to be sure, but with a +heartiness and zeal that more than atoned for any lack of style. From +mother's withdrawing-room I fetched our chief household god, a small +ancient silver goblet, and, filling it with wine, offered it to the +stranger with what I supposed, no doubt wrongly, to be a modish bow. She +drank a little, and then, at my urging, a little more. + +"Madam," I said, "I think you do not need to be 'Molly Brown' any longer. +Yon dragooner is quite certain that you are not here, and we can safely +take advantage of his opinion. As for you, Jane, you've done splendidly, +and I heartily thank you." I re-filled the goblet and handed it to Jane, +saying, "Drink, Jane, to madam's good luck." + +The honest girl blushed with joy at my words, and as for drinking wine +out of the famous silver goblet of the Hanyards--such a distinction, as she +conceived it, was reward enough for anything. + +"Thanks are payment all too poor for what you have done, sir," said +madam, "and any words of mine would make them poorer still. But, sir, I do +thank you most heartily. And you, too, Jane, have done me splendid +service. You are as brave and clever as you are bonny and pretty." + +"Madam," said I, bowing low, "you are too kind to my services, which +have, indeed, been rather crudely performed." + +"Not so," she replied, "but with shrewd, ready wit and certain judgment. +I cannot imagine myself in a tighter corner than at the bridge, and your +device had the effective simplicity of genius. Your plan here was, to be +sure, commonplace, but it, too, required caution and good acting, and you +and Jane supplied both. It was nicer than popping me into some musty +priest's hole, though I expect this ancient building has one." + +I looked at the wall as half expecting the sword of Captain +Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman to rattle to the ground under this awful +insinuation. + +"The only use our family has found for priests, madam," I said, "has +been, I fear, to hunt them like vermin. As a Wheatman of the Hanyards, I'm +afraid I'm a degenerate." + +"You'll not even be that much longer if I keep you from getting into some +dry clothes. And, if Jane is willing, I will make myself myself. I would +fain be on." + +With a sweet smile and a gracious curtsy, she followed the ready Jane +upstairs. + +I removed all traces of what had taken place, and carried my precious +jack into the pantry, where I hung him in safety. He should be set up by +Master Whatcot of Stafford as a trophy and memento in honour of this great +day. I then hurried off to my room to attend to my own appearance, and +indeed I needed it, for I was caked with mud up to my knees and soaking +wet up to my waist. For the first time in my life I was grieved to the +bone at the inadequacy of my wardrobe, and even when I had donned my +Sunday best my appearance was undoubtedly villainous from the London point +of view. I feathered myself as finely as my resources permitted, but it +was a homely, uncouth yeoman that raced downstairs and awaited her coming. +I drew the curtains, lit the candles, kicked the fire into a blaze, and +built it up with fresh logs. + +It would be impossible for me to set down the hubbub of thoughts and +ideas that filled my mind. I had been plunged into a new world, and +floundered about in it pretty hopelessly, I can tell you. The days of +knight-errantry had come over again, and chance, mightier even than King +Arthur, had commanded me to serve a sweet lady in distress. But I had had +no training, no preliminary squireship, in which I could learn how things +were done by watching brave and accomplished knights do them. I had lived +among the parts of speech, not among the facts of life. I could hit a bird +on the wing, snare a rabbit, ride like a saddle, angle for jack and trout, +strike like a sledge-hammer, swim like a fish--and that was all. I knew, +too, every turn and track and tree for miles round; and that might be +something now, and indeed, as will be seen, turned out my most precious +accomplishment. Some people said I was as proud as Lucifer, others that I +was as meek as a mouse, and I once overheard our Kate tell Priscilla +Dobson, Jack's vinegary sister, that both were right--which confounded me, +for our 'Copper Nob,' as I used to call her, was a shrewd little woman. +Still, such as I was, the stranger lady should have me, an she would, as +her squire, to the last breath in my body. Only let me get out of my +cabbage-bed, only give me a man's work to do, and I would ask for no more. +Neither for love nor for liking would I crave, but just for the work and +the joy of it. + +The yard gate clicked, and a moment later mother and Kate came in. + +"Oh, Noll, it's been grand!" burst out Kate. "I wish you'd been there. +There were hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers, horse and foot, and guns +and wagons without end. Lord Brocton was there, and Sir Ralph Sneyd, who +is just a duck, and a nasty-looking major with his face all over blotches. +And they saw us, and crowded into the vicar's to talk to us." + +"And what about Jack Dobson?" + +"Oh, Oliver, what have you got your best clothes on for?" + +"Because I got wet through catching a great jack. But never mind my best +clothes. How did Jack look in his uniform?" + +"A lot better than Lord Brocton, or anyone else there, if you must know," +she said, jerking the words at me, with her cheeks near the colour of her +hair. + +"Can he talk sense yet?" + +"He talked like the modest gentleman he is," said my mother, "and looked +nearly as handsome as my own boy. He sent his loving greetings to you, and +would fain have come to see you but his duties would not allow of it." + +Of course my gibes at Jack were all purely foolish and jealous, and, +moreover, I could now afford to be truthful; so I said, "If Jack doesn't +do better, as well as look better, than my Lord Brocton, I'll thrash him +soundly when he gets back. But he will. He's a rare one is Master Jack, +and by a long chalk the pluckiest soul, boy or man, I've ever come across. +And he'll learn sense, of the sort he wants, as fast as anybody when the +time comes." + +"Of course the lad will," said mother, taking off her long cloak, and +Kate, when mother turned to hang it on its accustomed hook, gave a swift +peck at my cheek with her lips, and whispered, "You dear old Noll!" + +All this time I had been listening with strained ears for footsteps on +the stairs. Now I heard them, and waited anxiously. The door opened, and +Jane came in, upright and important. She curtsyed to my mother, announced, +"Mistress Margaret Waynflete," and my goddess came into the room. + +Straight up to my mother she walked,--a poor word to describe her sweet +and stately motion, _et vera incessu patuit dea_, as the master has +it,--curtsied low and nobly to her and said, "Mistress Wheatman, I am a +stranger in distress, and should have been in danger but for your son, who +has served me and saved me as only a brave and courteous gentleman could." + +I had ever loved my mother dearly, but I loved her proudly now, for the +greatest dame in the land could not have done better than this sweet, +simple mother of mine. Without surprise or hesitation, she took Mistress +Waynflete's hands in her own, and said, "Dear lady, anyone in distress is +welcome here, and Oliver has done just as I would have him do. And this is +my daughter, Kate, who will share our anxiety to help you." + +And then I was proud of our Kate, Kate with the red hair and the +milk-white face, the saucy eye and the shrewd tongue, Kate with the +tradesman's head and the heart of gold. She shook madam warmly by the +hand, and led her to my great arm-chair in the ingle-nook as to a throne +that was hers of right. + +Thus was Mistress Waynflete made welcome to the Hanyards. + +Mother and Kate took their accustomed seats on the cosy settle beside the +hearth. I sat on a three-legged stool in front of the fire, and Jane +flitted about as quietly as a bat, laying the table for our evening meal. + +Never had the house-place at the Hanyards looked so fair. The firelight +danced on the black oak wainscot which age and polishing had made like +unto ebony, and the row of pewter plates on the top shelf of the dresser +glimmered in their obscurity like a row of moons. Our special pride, a +spice-cupboard of solid mahogany, ages old, glowed red across the room, +and from the neighbouring wall the great sword and back-and-breast with +which Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, Captain of Horse, had done service at +Naseby, seemed to twinkle congratulations to me as one not unworthy of my +name. Not an unsuitable frame, perhaps, this ancient, goodly house-place, +for the beautiful picture now in it, on which I looked as often as I dared +with furtive eyes of admiration. + +She told her story with simple directness. Her father's name was +Christopher Waynflete, a soldier by profession, who had seen service in +many parts of the Continent and had attained the rank of Colonel in the +Swedish army. Her mother she had never known, for she had died when +Mistress Margaret was but a few months old, and her father had maintained +an unbroken reticence on the subject. Some six months ago, Colonel +Waynflete had returned to England to settle, desiring to obtain some +military employment, a plan which his long service and professional +knowledge seemed to make feasible. In London he made the acquaintance of +the Earl of Ridgeley, to whom, indeed, he bore a letter of introduction +from a Swedish diplomat in Paris. Through the Earl he had met Lord +Brocton, the Earl's only son and heir. The Colonel's hope of employment in +the army had not been realized, and this and certain other reasons, which +she did not specify, had embittered him against the Government. Not having +any real allegiance to King George, whom he had never served, and who now +refused his services, he easily entered into the plans of certain +influential Jacobites in London whose acquaintance he had made. Three days +previously he had set out from London to join Prince Charles. For certain +reasons (again she did not give details) she was unwilling to be separated +from her father, at any rate not until circumstances made it necessary for +them to part, and then the plan was that she should go to Chester, with +which city she was inclined to think her father had some old connexion, +and stay there with the wife of a certain cathedral dignitary of secret +but strong Jacobite inclinations. Colonel Waynflete's connexion with the +Jacobite cause had, naturally, been kept secret, but she was almost +certain that Lord Brocton had discovered it through a certain spy and +toady of his, one Major Tixall. + +"Pimples all over his face?" broke in Kate. + +"Yes," said Mistress Waynflete, with a little shudder. + +"He was in the village this afternoon with Lord Brocton," returned Kate. + +"Peace, dear one," said mother, "our turn is coming. Be as quiet as +Oliver." + +"Oliver, mother dear, hasn't seen Major Tixall, whose face is enough to +make an owl talk, let alone a magpie like me." + +Her right ear was near enough to me, the stool being big and I bigger, so +I pinched the pretty little pink shell, and whispered in it, "Shut up, +Kit, and think of Jack," which effectually silenced her. + +Mistress Waynflete had little more to tell. They had travelled rapidly, +avoiding Coventry and Lichfield, where the royal forces had assembled, but +bending west so as to get by unfrequented roads to Stafford, and so on to +the main north road along which the Prince was now reported to be +marching. Just outride the "Bull and Mouth" her horse had cast a shoe. +Leaving her to rest in the ale-house, the Colonel had gone on with the +horses to the nearest smithy at Milford. He was quite unaware of the +northward movement of troops from Lichfield, and was under the impression +that he was now well beyond the danger zone. We had heard from the +serjeant of his capture. + +Kate, at mother's request, took up the tale here. The road past the +Hanyards to the village enters the main road abruptly, and clumps of elms +prevent anyone travelling along it from seeing what is happening in the +village. The vicarage is opposite the smithy and the inn, and when mother +and Kate got there, only a few dragoons were about. They watched the +Colonel ride up, leading his daughter's horse, and saw him turn round at +once and attempt to go back as soon as he caught sight of the dragoons; +but a larger body, under the command of Major Tixall, cantered in at the +moment and, trapped between the two bodies, the Colonel had been compelled +to surrender. He was kept until my Lord Brocton's arrival nearly an hour +later, and had then been sent on to Stafford under a strong guard. + +This was the only fresh piece of information that was of any importance. +There is a jail at Stafford, and no doubt the Colonel was by now lodged in +it. + +"I fear that my views, or at any rate my father's views, make me a +dangerous guest," said Mistress Waynflete, "though your kindness has made +me a welcome one." + +"Madam," I said coldly, "the only politics I know is that my Lord Brocton +is fighting against the Stuart, and if by fighting for the Stuart I can +get in a fair blow at my Lord Brocton, I fight for the Stuart." + +"Oliver," said mother, "it is wrong--I say nothing about its wisdom--to +choose sides in such matters on grounds of personal enmity." + +"Lord Brocton's a beast," said Kate shortly. + +Mistress Waynflete had turned a richer colour at the mention of Brocton's +name, but at Kate's words she became scarlet, and for that I vowed I would +knock him on the head as ruthlessly as if he were a buck rabbit as soon as +I got the chance. + +She recovered and continued her story, but as it only concerned my share +in the day's doings, it is unnecessary to repeat it here. She told it, +however, in such kind terms, that I made an end to my discomfort by going +to fetch the great jack for mother and Kate to look at. When returning, +however, I could not help hearing Kate say to Mistress Waynflete, "Without +a 'by your leave'?" + +"As indifferently as if I had been a bag of flour," was the cool reply. +And I had dithered like an aspen leaf! + +"I suppose he half drowned you?" + +"On the contrary, there was not a wet stitch on me." + +"Oliver," added my mother, "has not many things to do that are worth his +doing, but what he finds he does well." + +"Such as catching jack," said I, staggering in with my heavy load. It was +admired unstintingly, and was indeed worthy of all praise. + +"Supper is ready, mam," said Jane; "and Joe says he knowed it wor as big +as a gate-post." + +"And where is Joe?" + +"In the kitchen, Master Noll." + +"Give him a good supper, not much ale, and that small, and tell him to +stop there. I shall want him." Then, turning to Mistress Waynflete, I went +on: "There's one way, and only one, into Stafford that's perfectly safe +to-night. Joe and I will row you there. Now, mother, I'm hungrier than the +great jack ever was." + + + +CHAPTER IV + +OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES + + +I have already said that the river was the boundary of the Hanyards on +the side towards the village. About a hundred yards above the pocket of +deep water where the jack had lain, I had built a little covered dock, and +here I kept a craft, half boat and half punt, which I used for my fishing, +and in which mother and Kate could lie on cushions while I rowed them on +the river on warm summer nights. It was heavy and ungainly, but very +comfortable, and as safe as the ark. + +Joe received the information that he was to row to Stafford as cheerfully +as an invitation to a jug of beer, and went off whistling to get the boat +ready. + +Everything that care could suggest was done for Mistress Waynflete's +comfort. Jane carried down to the boat two huge stone beer bottles, filled +with boiling water. Mother insisted on madam taking her thick hooded +cloak, shaped like a fashionable domino, and covering her from head to +ankles. Kate slipped into my pocket a pint flask of her extra special +concoction of peppermint cordial, the best possible companion on a night +like this. Jane came back and returned again laden with rugs and cushions, +and soon reported that the boat was ready. + +Mother and Kate, with Jane behind them, came to the garden gate to bid us +farewell. Little was said, for Mistress Waynflete was too moved by their +kindness to say much, and I was too preoccupied. Madam kissed them all in +turn and murmured a good-bye. I kissed mother and Kate, and they wished me +a good voyage and a safe return. We turned our faces riverward and started. + +It was now nearly eight o'clock. The night was pitch-dark, the sky +star-studded and moonless. It was freezing hard, the keen air stung our +faces, the tiniest twig was finger-thick with hoar-frost, and the grass +crunched under our feet at every step. I went ahead as guide, and in five +minutes we arrived at the dock, where Joe, the boat out, cushioned and +trim for the voyage, was vigorously slapping his hands crosswise round his +waist to keep them warm. He held the boat up to the bank, I stepped in, +handed in Mistress Waynflete, bestowed her with all possible comfort, +settled by her side, and took the ropes. Then Joe, clambering in, pushed +off and the voyage began. + +It was up-stream, but fortunately the current was gentle, though there +was a fair amount of water coming down. There was, or rather would have +been on an ordinary night, no danger of discovery, since the river was +half a mile from the main road at our starting-place, and ran still +farther away from it for nearly two miles. Then came the one possible +danger-spot on such a night as this, with the road occupied by troops on +the march. A long bend in the river took it so close to the road that the +yard of a wayside inn ran right down to the water. If we got safely past +this, all danger would be over till we ran sheer up to the ruined wall of +the town. The moon would not rise for two hours, so there was ample time +for our row of about five miles. + +"I trust you are comfortable, madam?" I said. + +"Comfortable and warm and cosy," she replied. "But for my fears for my +father I should even be happy, for it has never before been my lot, and I +have wandered far and wide over half Europe, to experience such and so +much kindness in one day from perfect strangers." + +"I am, indeed, happy in my mother and sister. They are pearls of great +price." + +"None better in all Staffordsheer," said Joe. + +"You have rendered me a greater service than you know of, and I must not +let you leave yourself out." To hide a note of wistfulness in her voice, +she added mischievously, "Must I, Joe?" + +"Yow could find wus'n' Wheatman o' th' 'Anyards," said Joe, with sturdy +precision of praise. + +"Is he really a hell-hound, Joe, when he's got a sup of beer in him? I've +no clear notion what a hell-hound is, but clearly it means something as +bad, say, as a janissary--the worst animal I ever came across." + +"Sup o' beer in 'im," snorted Joe contemptuously. "He dunna really know +what beer is, my lady. It's a grand thing is beer, if y'll only tak' +enough of it to do y' good, but there's no vartue in half a pint of it. +I've told 'im that lots of times. But it's God's truth, my lady, 'e dunna +want no beer, dunna Master Noll, to mak 'im 'it like the kick of a 'oss. I +on'y brought 'im a few daceys up t'ouse this mawnin', an'--" + +"You row harder, Joe, and yawp less," said I, interrupting him. "Between +you and Jane I shan't have a rag of character left." + +"Sup o' beer in him," he growled, and spat loudly on his hands. Joe +looked at all men as potential customers of the "Bull and Mouth," and +judged them accordingly. + +"I know the worst about you now, Master Wheatman, and by way of providing +you with a less embarrassing topic of conversation, you might tell me what +we shall do when we get to Stafford." + +"We are going to Marry-me-quick's." + +She started so abruptly that I laughed outright, and Joe rumbled like an +overloaded wagon. I explained. + +"We shall approach the town on the south side where the wall comes down +to the river. 'Marry-me-quick' is not, as you seem to suppose, a +disagreeable process, but an agreeable old woman who lives in a cottage +which backs on to the river. Every schoolboy in the town knows her by that +name, which is also the name of a kind of toffee she makes, and by the +sale of which she earns a modest living. I cannot tell you how the name +originated, but there it is. I went to the grammar school in the town, and +in my time I must have bought and consumed some hundredweights of her +'marry-me-quick.' In her tiny cottage you may rest in safety while I hunt +up Jack Dobson and learn what has been done with your father." + +"An' if I'd got a shilling," said the irrepressible Joe, "for every pat +of butter I've taken owd Marry-me-quick, I'd--I'd--" + +He seemed lost for words, so I assisted him, and paid him back at the +same time, by saying, "Pluck up courage enough to speak to Jane." + +"That's rate, Master Noll." + +"Is Jane so very fond of money, Joe?" asked Mistress Waynflete curiously. + +"No," said Joe. "She ain't grasping, ain't Jin. She told me t'nate, she +c'd 'ave 'ad a mint of money if she'd liked, but she wouldna tak' it. Said +it would 'a' burnt 'er fingers. 'More fool yow,' says I; 'it'd 'a' soon +gotten cowd weather like this'n.' But Jin's all rate. Er'll never bre'k +'er arm at church door, wunna Jin." + +I explained to Mistress Waynflete that a woman who broke her arm at the +church door was a housewifely maiden who became a slatternly housewife +after marriage. "There's no fear of Jane doing that," she replied; "she's +as good as the guineas she would not take." + +For a space silence fell on us. All my attention was required to keep the +boat clear of the banks, for the little river turned and twisted through +its meadows like a hunted hare. There was only the starlight to steer by, +but I had fished every yard of the river, and knew it so well that I gave +Joe a clear channel to row in. Not a sound jarred on the rhythmic purr of +the oars in the rowlocks and the gentle lapping of the stream against the +bow. This day had God been very good to me. This was life as I would have +it; work to do for brain and brawn, and a woman to do it for who was worth +the uttermost that was in me. Romance had flushed the drab night of my +life with a rosy dawn, and my heart was lifted up within me. If it faded +away, there would at least be the memory of it. But it might not fade. I +was under no illusions as to the stiffness of my task. I was matched +against the powers that be, against my Lord Brocton, whose ability to work +this maiden ill was increased a thousandfold by his military authority. I +saw my way into Stafford, and I saw no more, not even my way out of it, +and least of all my way out of it with the Colonel rescued and restored to +his daughter. Mistress Waynflete had been so determined in her decision to +follow her father that perhaps she had some plan in mind. She said nothing +if she had, and if she had, it would, I supposed, depend on her woman's +power of influencing Brocton. The future was as black as the outlook along +the river, but I faced it eagerly. + +She broke the silence: "The last boat I was in was a gondola. It was on a +perfect night in a Venetian June, the sky a sapphire sprinkled with +diamonds, the warm, scent-laden air filled with murmurings and snatches of +song. And there was no danger." + +"Romance, perchance," said I. + +"You cannot have a one-sided romance. Romance is an atmosphere breathed +by two, not an emotion felt by one. To be sure, he was the most +appallingly in earnest lover woman ever had. He wept for a kiss with his +fingers twiddling on the hilt of his stiletto. Dear heart, these Italians!" + +"I should like to meet his countship," said I energetically. + +"Yes, he was a count, with a pedigree as long as the Rialto, and he had +not two silver piastres to rub against each other. He was the handsomest +man I have even seen. Fortunately, we left Venice before he had quite +decided that it was time to dig his knife into me." + +"You speak lightly of your danger, madam," I said coldly. + +"A hot-blooded Italian with a stiletto in his hand is a much more +desirable creature, let me tell you, than a cold-blooded Englishman with +the devil in his heart. That fiery little count, conceited and +poverty-stricken, did at any rate pay me the compliment of thinking for at +least a fortnight that I was a patch of heaven fallen in his way, whereas +to your cold-livered English lord I am no more than an appetizing dish." + +She was not speaking lightly now, but with cold, concentrated anger. I +remembered the reticencies of her statement at the Hanyards, and began to +see dimly some of the connecting links in her story. My Lord Brocton's +character was well enough known to be the subject of common talk at our +market ordinaries. My very manhood shamed me in the presence of this +queenly woman, marked down by a titled blackguard as his quarry, and I sat +still, fists tightly clenched on the tiller-ropes, and said nothing, +waiting for her to speak again. + +"I have seen to-day, Master Wheatman," she said, "a sight I have never +seen before--a beautiful English maiden growing up to womanhood in the +calm and safety of an English country home. You will be tempted, I know, +to envy me my wanderings, my experiences, my freedom, but, believe me, I +would rather be your sweet Kate in the quiet of the Hanyards." + +"It isn't as quiet as it might be when Jack's about," said I, seeking to +change the current of her thoughts. Then I had to tell her all about Jack, +and our boyish escapades and fightings and friendings, and because I had +earlier in the day though evil of dear Jack, I now could say nothing good +enough about him. + +It was time to relieve Joe at the oars. At first he would not agree, for, +he said, he'd been "lagging a bit during the day 'long o' them squaddies," +and wanted to put in a day's work. + +"You will, before you've done, Joe, for you've got to pull the boat back. +So have a swig of beer and we'll change over. And madam shall acknowledge +the virtues of our Kate's peppermint cordial." + +Joe shipped his oars and reached out for his bottle of beer. I got out +the flask and said in a sing-song voice: "Take two gallons of the best +Hollands money can buy, and add thereto, first, four pounds of choice +Barbados sugar, and, secondly, two bushels of freshly gathered leaves of +the plant peppermint. Steep together for a whole moon, stirring the +concoction every four hours during the daytime, and as often as you wake +o' nights. Strain through a piece of linen, if you've got one; if not, do +what our Kate did this year, use a fair maiden's silk stocking. The result +is a drink fit for the gods, and, indeed, one which may even be offered to +goddesses. Drink, madam!" + +She was laughing merrily before I had finished. "Kate's stocking sounds +the most innocent ingredient in it, Master Wheatman, but I must try her +skill in brewing." + +She did so, and pronounced it excellent but strong. I tried it too, +rather more copiously, I confess. Indeed, it was good, but to me, I know, +the charm of the cordial this time lay in the thought of the rich red lips +that had touched the flask before mine. + +Joe and I then changed places, and I kept hard at the oars until we came +to the reach which ran close up to the "Why Not." Here Joe resumed the +oars and I the ropes. + +"This is the only danger-spot," I said. "Yonder are the lights of the +ale-house. On an ordinary night there would be no one about, even if it +mattered if there were, but to-night, when it does matter, there are +thousands of soldiers on the march, and there is some risk of our being +observed." + +In another five minutes or so we heard faint snatches of song and bursts +of applause, and shouting and laughing. The "Why Not" was now about a +hundred yards ahead on our left. On the right the bank was lined with +willows which, not having been pollarded for many years, stretched their +long, thin branches well over the river. I ran the boat as far under them +as I could. Joe pulled with short, soft strokes, and we crept slowly +along. For a minute the lighted windows were obscured by the outhouses, +and just as I caught sight of them again, a door was flung open, and the +jumble of noises swelled into a roar of jeering laughter. A young woman +flew out, heedlessly and noisily as a flustered hen, and a burly soldier +lurched after her down the yard. At a whisper, Joe shipped his oars, and I +ran the boat right into the bank. I grabbed in the dark for a hold-to, and +luckily seized the roots of a willow. At his end Joe did the same. We +hardly dared to breathe as we watched the doings on the other bank. + +Lust, of blood or worse, and the fear of it, were there. The lighted +windows and the open door made every movement of the man and the girl +clearly visible. No one followed them. It was so ordinary an event to the +company, perhaps that it was not worth while leaving mirth and beer to see +the issue. But all serious elements in their affair changed abruptly and +to our instant jeopardy. On the very edge of the water the girl, knowing +her whereabouts to an inch, turned cleverly. The man, a stranger +obviously, ran on and pitched clean and far into the river, while she, +laughing and triumphant, scuttled back to the house. Her tale brought out +at once a spurt of men, yelling with joy, to watch the fun. Some of them +had snatched up lanterns and lighted candles, and they were followed later +by a fresh, older, shrieking woman who carried a huge, burning brand +plucked from the hearth. + +Happily for us the river was shallow, for a couple of strokes would have +brought the man clean into us. The shock of the icy water sobered him. He +splashed and spluttered to his feet, climbed up the bank like a giant +water-rat, and would have slunk towards the house; but the rabble were on +him before he had taken a dozen paces, and tormented him till he roared +like a wounded bull. The woman with the brand cried out on him with vile +words that made my face burn in the dark, and belaboured him about the +head with her blazing cudgel. At every blow a shower of sparks flew out +that drove his rollicking mates into a ring around them at a safe distance +away. The man must have been set afire had he not been soused in the river +beforehand. None of his fellows tried to help him, just as before none had +tried to hinder him. It was his look out either way, and they enjoyed his +discomfiture with all the gusto of children. At last the breathless woman +and the cowed man came to a parley, the result of which was that, with a +whoop of "pots round," they all crowded back into the ale-house, and we +were once more alone on the river. + +"The ordeal by water and by fire," I said. "Push out, Joe." + +"Gom! Owd Bess give 'im sock," he replied, and levered the nose of the +boat into midstream again. + +Although there was no real need for it, the escape kept us all quiet. I +persuaded Mistress Waynflete to lie down, so as to avoid the biting wind +that was sweeping across the river, and Joe and I by turns made such +progress that in less than an hour we drew up to the town meadow. + +The greatest caution was now necessary, since we saw that the bridge +leading into the town was thronged with people, many carrying lanterns or +torches. The town wall ran parallel to the river, on our right, with a +narrow fringe of meadow between them. Here the wall was for the most part +tumbled into ruins, and in the gaps stood little cottages, built in part +of the stones that had once formed the wall. In one of these lived little +old Marry-me-quick, Mistress Martha Tonks, to give her her christening +name, and we ran up to the bank level with her place without being +observed from the bridge, although it was only a few boat-lengths distant. + +I stepped cautiously out and tiptoed to her back window. There the +ancient maiden was, busily engaged in the manufacture of her staple, no +doubt in anticipation of a greater demand for it in these stirring days, +when much extra money would be passing around in the town, and many +pennies thereof would dribble into the pockets of the youngsters. I lifted +the latch and stepped in. She squeaked with affright till she saw who it +was, and then turned her note into a gurgle of astonishment. + +"Are you alone?" I asked. She nodded. "Just a minute then, and I'll be +back again, with a visitor. Keep quiet!" + +I returned to the boat, and as I was obliged to move as stealthily as a +cat, I could not help, as I approached, hearing Joe say emphatically, "I +wunna." I cursed him silent, without troubling to ask what he was +objecting to, and handed Mistress Waynflete out. + +"Now, Joe," I whispered, "off you go back! The moon will be up in a few +minutes, and you ought to do it in an hour. You can sit in the kitchen all +to-morrow to make up for this." + +"Jin said 'er'd sit up for me," he said, and I was glad he had such a +good motive to keep him up to his hard task. + +"Good-bye, Joe," said Mistress Waynflete, shaking the good fellow warmly +by the hand. "Give my loving remembrances to your mistresses and to Jane. +Say how grateful I am." + +"Good-bye, my lady," he said simply, "and God bless you." So that only I +could hear him, he added, "Tak' good keer on 'er, Master Noll. Jin's awful +sot on 'er, and wunna luk at me if any 'arm 'appens 'er." + +I gripped his hard hand, gave him my parting message home, and then +crouched and pushed the boat into and down the stream. As I lifted my hand +from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the +last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand +was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with +the new life. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE + + +I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she +manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night. Her cottage +contained only one other room, serving as shop and living room, and +fronting on a narrow lane which turned abruptly from the main street at +the bridge-end to follow the curve of the walls. By the time I returned +with Mistress Waynflete she had shuttered the window of the shop, snuffed +the candles, and stirred the fire into a blaze. + +Marry-me-quick was an ancient, wizened, little woman, so small that she +hardly escaped being a dwarf, humpbacked, and inexpressibly ugly. In times +not so long gone by she would assuredly have burned as a witch, and many +supposed her to be in league with the evil one. But in actual fact she was +a cheery, voluble, and warm-hearted little body, and one on whom I could +rely to serve us in this pinch. + +"Mistress Tonks," I said, "I want you to shelter this lady for the night." + +"To be sure," chirped the little woman. "Luckily I've kept the sojers +off. Every house in the town is full of 'em, and the Mayor's at his wits' +end to know how to stuff 'em all in. I should think a score of 'em have +come here, in ones, and twos, and threes; and when I stood bold up to them +and said, 'Do you want any marry-me-quick?' they were off like scared +rabbits. A great, sweet lady like you wouldn't think it, of course, but +it's a godsend at times for a lone woman when she's ugly enough to turn +cream sour, and somedeal crooked o' the body into the bargain." + +"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete, +deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman +has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not +want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter." + +"I should befriend the devil's dam, asking your ladyship's pardon, if +Master Wheatman brought her here. I'm a little, lone, ugly woman, but +Master Noll always stood by me. The lads, drat 'em, were for ever pinching +Master Dobson's bull's-eyes and gingerbread, and him mayor of the town, +though he's got lots grander than that since, but they never pinched any +marry-me-quick, not in Master Noll's time. But he's gone now, and I'm not +as nimble as I used to be. Jesus help me, how he had used to fight! He +used to put my heart in my mouth, coming in here all blood and muck to +wash himself afore he went home. But take your things off and make +yourself at home." + +"I'm afraid you'll hear a too full and too true account of me, madam, +while I am away," said I. "Soldiers are likely to call, but you can leave +Mistress Tonks to deal with them. Still, please discard your own jacket +and hat, and wear mother's domino. It's homely and country-like, and you +must pull the hood over your head, since, if your hair has been described, +and any soldier who calls has heard of it, he will have to be blind not to +notice it." + +"Yes, it's dreadful stuff," she said, with amusing meekness. + +"So dreadful, madam," said I soberly, "that all England cannot match it. +Therefore you must hide it, lest it should shock some poor soldier who +comes seeking a billet and finds it." + +She took off her hat, preparing to do what I asked, and the wondrous +yellow hair, coils upon coils of it, was revealed. "Jesus help me," said +little Marry-me-quick in a hushed voice, "the back of her head looks like +a harvest moon. If the same God that made her ladyship made me, we shall +begin life in heaven with a row, that's all I've got to say." + +I smiled at the quaint conceit of the little woman, which lost its +irreverence towards God in its reverence for His handiwork. "Now mother +Tonks," said I, "I leave this lady in your charge for a time while I go +into the town to see Master Dobson. I may be away some time, and you'll +get us some supper. Anything you have will do." + +"Anything I have?" she echoed scornfully. "I've got one of them rabbits +you sent me last market day by that lozzicking Joe Braggs, but he's a good +gorby is Joe"--here her voice softened, and madam smiled agreement--"and +this frost has kept it as sweet as a nut. If you're not too hungry to +wait, I'll make you some rabbit-stew." + +"Rabbit-stew? I'll wait for that, and I'm sure Mistress Waynflete will," +said I. + +"I'll live on marry-me-quick in the meantime," she replied, laughing. + +"I leave you then in good hands, and hope to come back with cheerful +news," I said, bowing low, and stepped forth on my errand. + +I turned to the left and fifty paces brought me into the main street. A +gun and a train of wagons were rumbling over the bridge, convoyed by a +handful of dragoons and a riff-raff of noisy lads and lasses. Late and +cold as it was, the main street was thronged as on a fair day at noon. +Most of the shops, especially those that dealt in provisions, were open +and full of vociferous customers, while every alehouse was a pandemonium. +The street was choked with townspeople and soldiery; lanterns flickered +and torches flamed; oath and jest, bravado and buffoonery, filled the air. + +I pushed my way to the market-place. Here about a dozen guns were parked, +and at least a hundred horses tethered. At each corner a huge fire cracked +and roared. The town hall was a blaze of light, and I heard from passersby +that the mayor and council had been in session since noon. The current +rumour was that the Stuart, with fifty thousand Highlanders, savages who +disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food, had sacked +Manchester and was now marching south, with hell in his heart and +desolation in his train. If one-hundredth of it were true, the worthy +mayor had his work cut out, for the town was so ill-found that it would +have fallen to a bombardment of turnips. + +I took my stand on the town-hall steps to scan the scene and collect my +thoughts. And here I had the best of luck, for who should come clanking +down the steps but Jack Dobson. I had no need to envy him now, having +better work on hand than his, but even if the mood of the midday had been +prevailing, it would have disappeared before his hearty greeting. + +"Noll, by gad, Noll," he cried, wringing my hand joyously. "I am glad to +see you, bully-boy; I thought you were sulking in your tent like--like, +you know his name, the fellow old Bloggs was always yarning about." + +"Iphigenia," said I. + +"Was that the chap?" he said cheerily. "And now I've got you, come along +to the house. I've more to tell you than there is in all your silly old +Virgil, and it's alive, man, alive, alive. That's why it suits me. Come +along, Noll. Lord Brocton's supping and staying with dad, so's Sneyd, and +a lot more, and you'll hear all the news. Brocton's a beast, and I'm glad +I'm an officer, if it's only a cornet in his rotten dragoons. There'll be +one beast less in the world, I'm thinking, before long." + +"What's he done to upset you?" + +"I say, Noll," was his reply, "Kate did look sweet this afternoon. I was +glad to have her come and see me off to the wars. I only had a few +snatches of talk with her. Brocton was for ever finding me something to +do, rot him, but she did look sweet." + +"All right, if she did. Never mind our Kate." + +"Never mind your Kate, you barbarian, you one-eyed anthropathingamy! Oh, +Noll, old friend"--there was a catch in his voice as he dragged me into +the entry at the side of old Comfit's shop,--"she's your Kate now, but if +I come back, I want her to be my Kate. Don't breathe a word to her, Noll, +unless I never come back,--war has its risks, Noll, and I'm going to take +'em all,--but if I never come back, Noll, just tell Kate that I loved her." + +A plump of townspeople yelled their way past the entry, and their torches +lit up his fresh, boyish face, all alight with the enthusiasms of war and +love. I clasped his hand, and we looked into each other's eyes. + +"I'm glad to tell you, Noll." + +"I'm glad to hear it, Jack. Come back, for Kate's sake." + +The good fellow bubbled with joy at the meaning in my words, and we +continued our way up the entry, intending a detour where we could talk in +quiet, but before we had got out of the glare of the torches, he stopped +me, looked searchingly at me and said, "Old Noll, there's more in your +head now than Virgil." This confirmed my suspicion that Master Jack Dobson +was learning in his way more than I had learned in mine. + +"Farming," said I. "Tell me why Brocton is a beast." + +"He thinks every pretty woman a butterfly for his filthy fingers to crush +the beauty out of. But if he rolls his beast's tongue round one name, +either he or I will want that ferryman chap. What's his name?" + +"Charon," said I, forgetting to tease him. + +"That's him, Charon, I'm sure you're right this time. I wasn't sure about +the sulky old boy in the tent. I always thought Iphi-something was the one +that got his throat--Abram and Isaac sort of tale without any ram and +thicket at the end of it--but of course you'll be right." + +"And what sort of dragoons are you cornet of?" I asked. + +"They give me the bats, Noll. There's about two hundred town-sweepings, +not worth powder and shot, who want tying on their horses, and hardly know +butt from bayonet, and there's another two hundred better men, got +together coming along, or in the country around Lichfield. Sneyd, a +rattling good fellow, and I have tossed for stations, and when it comes to +a battle he's to lead the yokels and I'm to follow behind, kicking the +scum of London into the firing-line. Damn 'em. But I'll kick 'em right +enough. Then there's Major Tixall--major, by gad--a slinking cut-throat, +with a face the colour of pigs' liver. What he's majoring it for, Brocton +and the devil alone know. The only good thing is we've got a first-rate +drill sergeant. He's Brocton's toady, and for that I don't like him, but +he does know his business, I must say that for him." + +"Big-headed man, with a mouth slit up to his left ear?" said I, seizing +the welcome opportunity. + +"How the deuce do you know?" asked Jack, astonished. + +"He came searching the Hanyards this afternoon for a Jacobite spy, a +woman. But he didn't find her. She slipped through his fingers somehow. I +understood from big-mouth that you'd caught her father. What have you done +with him? Is he crow's meat yet?" + +"No, for some reason or other, which is a mystery to me, Brocton sent him +on with the van." + +"Here?" + +"No, farther on. Their orders are to push into Stone to-day, and +Newcastle to-morrow. They ought to be in touch with the enemy there. Of +course it's not certain which way they'll come, and if they come this way, +Noll, mark you, we've made a mistake. We ought to have waited for 'em at +Milford. We could have blown 'em to bits from the top of the hills, long +before they could have got at us." + +Our talk had brought us to an alley containing a side entrance to Master +Dobson's fine, old, timbered house, the pride of the town and known there +as the "Ancient High House." It stood on the main street of the town, +which led from the bridge to the market-place. For a moment I was +undecided, since I had obtained the news that mattered most, but I had +only been out a short time, the rabbit-stew would not be ready, Mistress +Waynflete was safe and comfortable, and might prefer to be alone, it was +possible that I might learn something further--and on these grounds I +decided that it would be well worth while to accept Jack's invitation. I +therefore followed him into the withdrawing-room. Here I paid due +courtesies to buxom Mistress Dobson and Mistress Priscilla Dobson, Jack's +oldest sister, a wasp-waisted bundle of formalities, for ever curtsying +and coquetting, after the London mode as she fondly imagined. My back +fairly ached with answering bobs and bows before we had drunk our part of +a dish of tea, which Mistress Dobson had brewed wherewith to refresh +herself after the toils of hospitality, but at last I jerked my way out at +Jack's heels, and we climbed to the stately barrel-roofed room where the +great ones were assembled. + +Horseshoe-wise round a mighty fire of logs, with a small table covered +with decanters and glasses between each pair, some dozen men sat at their +wine. There was, of course, Master Dobson, his meagre body all a twitter +with importance, sitting in the centre of the bend, opposite the fire, +whence he could survey all his guests at once, and urge them on with their +carousing. + +"My son returneth, my lord," he said, "with news from the worshipful the +Mayor, and he hath brought with him a worthy yeoman, one Master Wheatman, +who--" + +"Of the Hanyards, Esquire," said I in a testy whisper. + +"Ha, yes," he corrected and compromised, "Master Wheatman of the +Hanyards, a loyal subject of His Gracious Majesty." + +"The best friend and hardest hitter in broad Staffordshire," added Jack +heartily. + +I stepped into the horseshoe and made a bow general to the company, and a +lower one for the benefit of my Lord Brocton, who sat next to the hearth +in pride of place and comfort. Some years older than I, but not yet +thirty, handsome as a god carved by Phidias, but with drink and devilment +already marking him out for a damned soul, he sat there, the idol of that +lord-worshipping company. The only vacant chair was on his left. It was +Jack's place, earned by his father's guineas, which had remained vacant +during his absence. The good lad, I record it with pride, notwithstanding +a forbidding glance from his father, motioned me towards it, and fetched a +glass and poured out wine for me. As I was stepping forward his lordship +was good enough to address me. + +"Ha, Master Wheatman of the Hanyards,"--there was a sneer in his voice,--"it +is well I see thee on the right side, or, by gad and His Gracious +Majesty, we'd have that other five hundred acres of yours." He tossed off +a bumper of wine and added, "Or a solatium, Master Wheatman, a solatium." + +I caught Jack's eye as I stepped right into the middle of the group. To +my astonishment it was glowing with anger. Did he not think I could take +care of myself? Really Jack was becoming mysterious, but I supposed that +as I was Kate's brother he was feeling unusually interested in my welfare. +For my own part I was quite comfortable, and I replied easily, "As a +matter of fact, my lord, I have chosen my side expressly on account of the +well-known propensities of your lordship's family." + +For a full minute nothing was heard in the room but the cracking and +sputtering of the fire. This was not because of what I had said, though no +one present, and he least of all, could be fool enough to misunderstand +it, but because of its effect on him. Then, as now, blood flowed like +water on far lighter occasions than this, and Brocton, with all his +faults, was a ready fighter. For once, however, his fingers did not seek +his sword hilt, but fumbled with his empty glass, and his face went white +as the ashes at his feet. At length he recovered himself somewhat. + +"The loyal propensities of my family are well known to all men," he said. + +"And its determination to profit by them," I retorted coldly, and plumped +me down at his side. + +Right opposite me was the rector, a gross, sack-faced, ignorant +jolt-head, jowled like a pig and dew-lapped like an ox. Nature had meant +him for a butcher, but, being a by-blow of a great house, a discerning +patron had diverted him bishopward. In a voice husky with feeling and +wine, he said, "Surely it is the part of a gracious king to reward such +faithful service as that of the noble Earl of Ridgeley and my Lord +Brocton." + +"Decidedly, your reverence," I answered briskly, "and of others too, and +if, as seems likely, the Highlanders have left a vacant deanery or two +behind them, I hope your loyal services and pastoral life will be suitably +rewarded with one." + +Here Jack drew up another chair and I moved to make more room, so that he +could sit next to Brocton, to whom he was soon detailing in eager whispers +the result of his visit to the town hall. The others took up the broken +links of talk, and this gave me an opportunity of inspecting the company. + +There could be no doubt about the man on my left. His vicious, pimply +face manifested him Major Tixall, and Mistress Margaret's shudder was +easily accounted for. He turned his shoulder to me and talked to another +officer, who, so far, was only in his apprenticeship at the same game. +Beyond were two other officers of a wholly different stamp, and the one +who smiled at me with his eyes I took to be Sir Ralph Sneyd, a young +Staffordshire baronet of high repute. Then came Master Dobson, separating +the military sheep from the civilian goats. There was the Friday-faced +clothier and mercer, Master Allwood, strange company here since he was the +elder of a dissenting congregation in the town, and therefore well +separated from his reverence. The worthy mercer's dissent did not extend, +so rumour had it, to the making of hard bargains, and doubtless he was for +once hob-nobbing with the great in respect of his long purse rather than +of his long prayers. Other townsmen, whose names I did not know or cannot +recall, separated deacon from rector. + +The last man in the company, sitting opposite to his lordship, was a +stranger, and by far the man best worth looking at in the room. He had +drawn back a little, either out of the heat of the fire or to avoid his +reverence's vinous gossip as much as possible. Except that he was +certainly neither soldier nor parson, and probably not a lawyer, I could +make nothing of him. He had a massive head and a resolute and intelligent +face. He wore no wig and his hair was grey and closely cropped. I judged +him to be a man nearing sixty, but he appeared strong and vigorous. He was +dressed with rich unostentation, in grey jacket and breeches, with a +lighter grey, silver-buttoned waistcoat, and stockings to match. + +There was only one thing to be talked about in any company in Stafford +that night. What was going to happen? What of truth and substance was +there in the rumours that filled all mouths? At Master Dobson's two +currents of opinion ran violently in opposite directions. The soldiers on +my left were of course certain that the Stuart Prince and his Highland +rabble would be driven back. The towns-people opposite were equally +impressed with the fact that so far he had not been driven back but had +carried all before him. + +Sir Ralph had been stoutly maintaining that the rebellion was hopeless. +"There's no getting away from it, Sir Ralph," squeaked Master Dobson, +summing up for the doubtful townsmen; "between the rebels and us this +night there's not thirty miles nor three hundred men, and you've so far +only got about two thousand men in Stafford. I'm as loyal a man as any in +England, but there's no getting away from that." + +"Nobody wants to get away from it, Master Dobson," replied Sir Ralph. +"Any body of men with arms in their hands and the knack of using them, can +march much farther than the Highlanders have come, if no other body of +armed men stands in their way. The Stuart Prince's march will come to an +end just as soon as he is opposed, and we're here to oppose him." + +Master Dobson was still gloomy. "What sort of men have you got? Raw +militia lads, young recruits, and newly raised dragoons form at least half +of your force in Stafford." + +"Agreed," said Sir Ralph, "but we're rapidly licking 'em into shape, and +the Duke will be after us to-morrow with the regulars." + +"My good Sir Ralph," put in the mercer, "fifty thousand savage +Highlanders will cut through Stafford as easily as if it were a Cheshire +cheese. I fear the worst." + +"My worthy sir," said his lordship, and in his dulcet tones I heard the +tinkle of the mercer's guineas, "you need fear nothing. Neither stick nor +stone in Stafford will be disturbed. We are at least strong enough to make +good terms." + +"And Mistress Allwood," said the rector with a leer, "will be spared the +wastage of her charms on a ragged Highlander." + +The mercer's wife had all the charms of a withered apple, but here was +opening for discord, and our twittering host staved it off by appealing to +the stranger: "What do you think, Master Freake, of the way things are +going?" + +"I have not formed an opinion as to what is likely to happen here, good +Master Dobson," he replied, "but, speaking generally, I should feel much +easier in mind if the Duke's horses were not so utterly worn out." + +There was a distinct note of patronage in the tone in which this shrewd +and sensible remark was uttered, nor was this affected, I thought, but +rather the natural manner of a strong man speaking to a weak one. + +"Egad, you're right there, sir," cried Jack. "Nineteen out of twenty of +them couldn't be flayed into doing another five miles. I was over an hour +getting them from Milford, under five miles." + +"The Highlanders would march it in less," replied Master Freake, "and +this is not a campaign, but a race." + +"Where to?" It was Brocton who spoke. + +"London," was the prompt reply. "That's the heart of England, my lord, +and if Prince Charles gets into the heart he need not be concerned over +Wade marking time in the heels or the Duke sprawling about in its belly." + +"Your speech is light, Master Freake," said the rector with drunken sense +and gravity. "I trust it savoureth not of treasonable hopes." + +I turned during this absurd remark to glance at Brocton to see what +effect this excellent summary of the situation had had on him. To my +surprise I caught him looking so meaningly at the pimple-faced Major, that +I felt sure something was going to happen, and I was right. + +"God rot the man," said the Major thickly. "Does he say that I'm +sprawling about in somebody's belly?" He staggered to his feet, hand on +sword, and made to cross to the stranger, shouting, "Damnation to you, +I'll thrust something into your belly!" + +Brocton, not in the least to my surprise, made no attempt to interfere. +Jack couldn't, for I was in the way. His father began to splutter +helplessly. I shot out my foot, and swept the Major heavily to the floor. +I plucked him up by his collar as if he were a rabbit, and choked him till +his face was nearly black. Then I put him back in his chair, where he sat +huddled up and gasping. + +"Sir," said I to him, with much politeness, "you are tired by the +exertions of the evening. But I like a man who sticks up for his +commander, and desire to have the honour of drinking your health." And I +toasted him complacently, smiling the while into his little pig's eyes. + +This terminated the trouble, which Master Freake had watched with quiet +amusement. For my own part I was now anxious to go, for I was learning +nothing. Accident favoured me, for a servant came in and whispered +something to Brocton which took him out of the room. I seized the +opportunity to follow, declining to allow Jack to accompany me, and +wishing him good-bye and good luck. "Remember about Kate," were his last +words, whispered eagerly as he loosed my hand and opened me the door. + +Several rooms opened on the landing, and I noticed that one door was +ajar. As I passed the slit of light I caught sight of the sergeant of +dragoons, and stopped beyond the door to listen. I heard Brocton's voice, +and caught the words, "Egad, I'll e'en try her. Take the best horse +available. There's no danger, but speed is everything." He dropped his +voice to a whisper and for a moment or two I caught nothing. Then, raising +his voice again, he said, "And now for your prize." I heard him move to +go, and darted ahead, silent as a bat in a barn, and a moment later was in +the noisy street. There was nothing to keep me now, and a few minutes +later I quietly lifted Marry-me-quick's latch, stepped into the room, and +observed at once that Mistress Waynflete's look imported news. + +"Now, little mother," said I to Mistress Tonks, "supper's the blessedest +word I know." + +"And the rabbit-stew's as good as done by now," she said, and went into +the back room to dish it up. + +"The man with the slit face has been," said Mistress Waynflete +composedly. "He came hunting for quarters, but Mistress Tonks frightened +him off. At any rate, he soon left." + +"Did he recognize you as 'Moll' of the Hanyards?" + +"I'm quite sure that he did not. I turned my back the moment he entered, +and my hood was up. Moreover, I did not speak a word. Mother Tonks said +that I was staying here for the night because my father's house was full +of soldiers. She couldn't and wouldn't, she said, have a soldier here for +all the worshipful mayors in England. I was quite amused at the way she +talked him back to the door and through it." + +The little woman bustled in to lay the supper things. She was bubbling +over with elation. "It'll be another ten or fifteen minutes, will the +rabbit-stew. The lady will have told you about ugly mug, Master Oliver. I +got him out in no time. His head was all mouth like a cod-fish. I'll soon +be back. I expect you're both hungry." + +Off she bustled again, and we again settled down to our talk. I was +anxious to see if she could throw any light on Brocton's dealing with her +father. His conduct was to me wholly inexplicable. Then, too, there was +his obvious understanding with Major Tixall in the matter of the latter's +attack on Master Freake. Who was this stranger and why had he incurred +Brocton's enmity? Here was a whole string of puzzles awaiting solution. +But before I could start the conversation we were again interrupted. The +latch clicked, the door opened, and in walked my Lord Brocton. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MY LORD BROCTON + + +I was as new to a life of action as an hour-old duckling is to water, and +this ironical upset of all my plans left me helpless. The very last man +whom I wanted to see Mistress Waynflete was here, his plumed hat sweeping +to the floor, triumph on his handsome face and in his easy, languid tones. +Indeed, more astonishing than his being here, was his manner and bearing. +At Master Dobson's, a natural remark of mine had beaten all his wits out +of him. Here his assurance was such that it puzzled me out of action. + +"My sergeant, madam," he began, "no mean judge, since he has seen the +reigning beauties of half the capitals of Europe, told me to expect a +prize, but it is the prize. Master Wheatman, you are not, I am told, as +good a judge of cattle as Turnip Townshend, but you are, let me tell you, +a better one of women. I understand you know. Both acres and solatium +shall be mine in any event. And, dear Margaret, though I do not understand +what your haughtiness is doing here alone with my farmer friend, I need +hardly say that your devoted servant greets you with all humility." + +Again his hat curved in mockery through the air. He replaced it on his +head, drew his rapier, with quick turns of his wrist swished the supple +blade through the air till it sang, then flashed it out at me like the +tongue of an adder, and said, "Sit you still, Farmer Wheatman, sit you +still. Move but your hand and I spit you like a lark on a skewer. So, +little man, so!" + +The contempt in his words stirred the gall in my liver, but I neither +spoke nor shifted, and he continued, addressing her, but with cold, amused +eyes fixed on me, "You see, sweet Margaret, how yokel blood means yokel +mood. Your turnip-knight freezes at the sight of steel." + +In part at least he spoke truth. I had rarely seen a naked sword, other +than our time-worn and useless relic of the doughty Smite-and-spare-not, +and had never sat thus at the point of one drawn in earnest on myself. It +is easy to blame me, and at the back of my own mind I was blaming and +cursing myself, as I sat helpless there. I was keen as the blade he bore +to help her, for here was her hour of uttermost need, but I did not see +that I should be capable of much service with a hole in my heart, and he +had me at his mercy beyond a doubt, so long as he had me in his eye. No, +galling as it was, there was nothing to do but to wait the turn of events. +Something might divert his attention. One second was all I wanted, and I +sat there praying for it and ready for it. Meanwhile the scene, the talk, +and she were full of interest. + +Marry-me-quick's cottage was no hovel, either for size or appointments. +Brocton was standing with his back to a dresser. On his left was the outer +door, and on his right, between him and Mistress Waynflete, the door in +the party wall leading to the back room where the rabbit-stew was now +being dished up. Madam and I sat on opposite sides of the large hearth, a +small round table, drawn close to the fire for comfort and covered with +the supper things, occupied part of the space between us, but there was +plenty of room for action. When Brocton had stretched out his rapier +towards me in threat and command, the point was perhaps three feet from my +breast, and he could master my slightest movement. + +And Mistress Waynflete. At the bridge in the afternoon I had noticed that +while danger for her father had stirred her heart to its dearest depth, +danger for herself troubled her not one whit. When I looked at her now +there was no fear in her face, which was calm as the face of a pictured +saint, but I saw questionings there and knew they were of me. Plainly as +if she spoke the words, her great blue eyes were saying, "Am I leaning on +a broken reed?" As she caught my look she turned to Brocton, and I gritted +my teeth and listened. + +"So your lordship has found me!" She spoke easily and lightly. "How small +the world must be since it cannot find room for me to avoid you!" + +"Say rather, dear mistress, that my love draws me unerringly towards you." + +"I thought I gathered that there was another motive for your coming here +to-night." + +"Margaret, believe me, I am distraught," he said, not wholly in mockery +it seemed to me. + +"So distraught, it seems, that you neglect your plainest duty as an +officer in order to corrupt, if you can, a supposed country maiden, of +whom you have heard by chance. His Grace of Cumberland will be glad to +hear of such devotion." + +"Won't you listen to me, Margaret? You know I love you." + +"If you were offering me, my lord, the only kind of love which an +honourable man can offer, I should still refuse it. Your reputation, +character, and person are all equally disagreeable to me, and that you +should imagine that there is even the smallest chance of your succeeding, +is an insult for which, were I a man, you should pay dearly." + +"On the contrary, dear Margaret," he replied, in his most silken tones, +plainly shifting to more favourable ground, "I fancy that the chance is by +no means small." + +"Your fancy does not interest me," was the cold reply. + +"Every woman has her price, if I may adapt a phrase of the late Sir +Robert's, and I can pay yours. Excuse my frankness, Margaret. It would be +unpardonable if we were not alone. Yon cattle-drover hardly counts as +audience, I fancy, for he is already as good as strung up as a rebel." + +After a long silence, so long that I tried to find an explanation of it, +she said, "You refer to my father?" There was a quaver in her voice which +all her bravery could not suppress. + +"Exactly, Margaret, to your dear father." + +"In times like this, no doubt, your conduct in arresting him will pass +for legal, but fortunately some evidence will be required, and you have +none. The fact is that in your loyal zeal you have acted too soon." + +"I thought your daughterly instincts would be aroused," he answered, +scoffing openly as he saw his advantage. "They have lain dormant longer +than I expected. Believe me, Margaret, for my own purposes I have acted in +the very nick of time, and you will do well to drop your unfounded hopes +of the future. Your father's fate is certain if I act, for I can call a +witness--you remember Major Tixall, a beery but insinuating person--whose +evidence is enough to hang him fifty times over. Whether or not I produce +it depends, as I say, on the depth of your affection for him." + +"I shall know how to save my father, my lord, when the time comes. Now, +perhaps, having played your last card, you will leave me." + +"My dear Margaret," was the cool reply, "your innocence amazes me. My +last card! Not at all, sweet queen. You are my last card." + +"I? How so?" + +"You, too, are a rebel, if I choose to say the word, and a dangerous one +to boot. So here's your choice: come where love awaits you or go where the +gallows awaits you." + +"And if I could so far forget my nature as to come where love of your +sort, the love of a mere brute beast, awaits me, you would forget +everything?" + +"Everything, Margaret." + +"Your duty to your King included?" + +"Certainly. There's nothing I will not do, or leave undone, at your +behest for your fair sake." + +"You flatter me, my lord, far above my poor deserts. And now, if your +lordship will excuse me,"--she arose at the words, pale and determined as +death,--"I will e'en go and give myself up to some responsible officer and +acquaint him with your conduct." + +"He would not believe you, my sweet Margaret." + +"You forget I have a witness, my lord." For the first time during the +conversation she looked across at me. + +"He would not be there to witness, Margaret. Surely you suppose that I am +wise enough to prevent that move. Keep on sitting still, Farmer Oliver. +I'm glad, believe me, to see you so interested. A difficult piece of +virtue she is, to be sure, and if you could only escape a hanging, which +you will not, you might have learned to-night a useful lesson in the art +of managing a woman. It's an art, sir, a great, a curious art, and I +flatter myself I am somewhat of a master therein." + +All this time he had kept me in his eye, and the point of his rapier was +ready for my slightest move. It had grieved me to the heart to hear him +shame this noble woman so, bargaining for her honour as lightly as a +marketing housewife chaffers for a pullet. How she had felt it, I could +judge in part by the deathly paleness of her face, and the tight hold she +was keeping on herself. She dropped into her chair again and buried her +face in her hands. He only smiled as one who presages a welcome triumph. I +kept still and silent, never moving my eyes from his, praying and waiting +for my second. + +She raised her head and spoke again: "If I did not know you, my lord, I +would plead with you. Two men's lives are in my hands, you say, and there +is"--she paused--"but one way"--another terrible pause--"of saving them." + +"You want me to throw in the cattle-drover?" he asked gaily. + +"Yes," she replied, in a scarcely audible whisper. + +"It's throwing in five hundred acres of land each of which my father +values at a Jew's eye, let me tell you, but, egad, Margaret, you're not +dear even at that. Run away home, Farmer Wheatman, and don't be fool +enough to play the rebel again." + +I sat still and silent. Speech was useless, and action not yet possible. +That keen swordsman's eye must be diverted somehow. There was a God in +heaven, and the rabbit-stew would be ready soon. It was useless to attempt +to force matters. And as for his taunts, well, he was but feathering my +arrows. So I sat on like a stone. + +"Go, Master Wheatman," she urged faintly, but I did not even turn to look +at her. My heart was thumping on my ribs, my nerves tingling, my muscles +involuntarily tightening for a spring. + +"These yokels are so dull and lifeless, Margaret. He cannot understand +our impatience." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crimson to the +roots of her hair at this vicious insult. "Off, my man," he added to me, +"or I'll prick your bull's hide." He thrust out his rapier to give point +to the threat. Nothing moved me. My eyes were glued to his. + +And now the door on his right hand opened, and little Mistress +Marry-me-quick appeared with our supper. She saw the sword directed at the +breast of the one man on earth she loved with all the fervour of her +honest, womanly heart. The sight scattered her senses. With a +nerve-racking shriek she flopped heavily to the floor, and the rabbit-stew +flew from her hands and crashed loudly at his feet. It was too much for his +wine-sodden nerves. His eyes turned, his body slackened, the point of his +rapier flagged floorward. God had given me my second. + +I bounded at him, not straight, but somewhat to his left. He recovered, +but, anticipating a straight rush, thrust clean out on the expected line +of my leap. His blade ran through between my coat and waistcoat, and the +guard thumped sore on my ribs. Then he was mine. + +I struck hard on heart and belt and knocked the wind out of his body. He +sucked for breath like a drowning man. Now he could not call for help, and +I finished him off, quickly, gladly, and smilingly. His twitching fingers +fumbled at his belt as if seeking a pistol. Finding none, he made no +further attempt to defend himself, and covered his face with his arms to +keep off my blows, but I struck him with such fierce strength on his +unprotected temples that he weakened and dropped them. His ghastly, +bleeding face turned upwards, his dazed eyes pleading for the mercy he had +denied her a moment ago. It was brute appealing to brute in vain, and with +one last blow on the chin that drove his teeth together like the crack of +a pistol and nearly tore his head off his shoulders, I knocked him +senseless to the floor. + +His rapier hung in the skirt of my coat, so close had I been to sure and +sudden death. I drew it out and tossed it to the floor at his side. "I +wish, madam," said I, reaching out for mother's domino, "that we could +have saved the rabbit-stew." + +"Is he dead?" she whispered, with white lips, coming forward and looking +shudderingly down on him with troubled eyes. + +"No such luck," said I. "He may be round in five minutes, but that's +enough, though poor little Marry-me-quick will have to be left to fend for +herself." I helped her into the domino, pulled the hood over the wonderful +hair, and seized my own hat. + +"Now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "the northern halt of Staffordshire is +before us, and the sooner some of it is behind us the better." With these +words I led her to the door, which I closed carefully behind me, and into +the street. + +A little explanation will make our subsequent movements clearer. The +eastern side of Stafford is roughly bow-shaped. The main street is the +straight string and the wood is the curve of the wall, now mostly fallen +down and in ruins, the line of which was followed by the street we were +in, and only some fifty yards from the southern end of the string. The +marksman's thumb represents the market square, and the arrow the line of +the east gate street. + +No cat in the town knew it better than I did, or could travel it better +in the dark. Indeed, our only danger now came from the moon, but, +fortunately, she had not yet climbed very high. Mistress Waynflete placed +her arm in mine and we turned to the right, away from the still noisy and +crowded main street. We passed an ale-house bursting with customers, the +central figure among whom, plainly visible from the street, was Pippin +Pat, an Irishman with so huge a head that he had become a celebrity under +this name for miles around. He had made himself rolling drunk and, +suitably to the occasion, had been made into a Highlander by the simple +process of robbing him of his breeches and rubbing his head with ruddle. +He was a sorry sight enough, but, the main thing, he had attracted an +enormous company. I rejoiced to see him, for it meant that the wicket of +his master's tanyard, half a stone's throw ahead, would be unbolted. This +would save us a longish detour and lessen the danger of being observed. + +Arrived at the tanyard gate, I tried the wicket. It was unbolted, as I +had anticipated, and we were soon in the quiet and obscurity of the +tanyard. The far side of the yard was separated by a low stone wall from +the end of a blind alley leading into Eastgate Street. I guided my +companion safely by the edges of the tan-pits, and on arriving at the +wall, I made no apology but lifted her on to it. As she sat there a shaft +of moonlight lit up her fine, brave face. I feasted my eyes upon it for a +moment, and then made to leap over to assist her to the other side, but +she stayed me with a hand on each shoulder. + +"I will go no farther, Master Wheatman," she said in a low, troubled +voice, "till you forgive me." + +"Forgive you?" I cried, astounded. "Forgive you? What for?" + +"For thinking meanly of you. I thought you were afraid of Brocton. Not +until that lion leap of yours did I realize how cleverly and nobly you had +sat there through his insults, foreseeing the exact moment when you could +master him. My only explanation, I do not offer it as an excuse, is that +the utter beast in Brocton makes it hard for me to think well of any man. +Oh, believe me, I am ashamed, confounded, and miserable. Say you forgive +me!" + +"Madam," I said laughingly, "the next time I play the knight-errant, may +God send me a less observant damsel. There's nothing to forgive. The plain +truth is that I was frightened, a little bit. But I'm new to this sort of +thing, and I hope to improve." Then, after a pause, I met her eyes full +with mine and added, "As we go on." + +"Frightened," she said scornfully, "you frightened, you who leaped +unarmed on the best swordsman in London? No, don't mock me, Master +Wheatman, forgive me." + +"Of course I do, and thank you for your kind words. And we've both got +some one to forgive." + +She smiled radiantly--"Whom? And what for?" + +I leaped over the wall, and put my arms around her to lift her down. + +"Marry-me-quick, for dropping the rabbit-stew." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL + + +We slipped down the blind alley and came out in the street leading to the +East Gate. There was still great plenty of people strolling up and down, +for night had not yet killed off the novelty and excitement caused by the +arrival of the army. The smaller houses were crowded with soldiery, +hob-nobbing with the folk on whom they were billeted, and all were yelling +out, "Let the cannakin clink!" and other rowdy ditties in the intervals of +drinking. At the East Gate itself, a fire blazed, and pickets warmed +themselves round it, while along the street late-coming baggage and +ammunition wagons were trailing wearily. It was idle to expect to pass +unseen, so we plunged into the throng, threaded through the wagons, and +skirted leftward till we arrived at a quieter street running down to the +line of the wall. + +Here every brick and stone was as a familiar friend, for the little +grammar school backed on to the wall at the very spot where the main +street led through the old north gate of the town. Old Master Bloggs lived +in a tiny house on the side of the school away from the gate. There were +the candles flickering in the untidy den in which the old man passed all +his waking hours out of school-time, and there, I doubted not, they would +be guttering away if the Highlanders sacked the town. I led the way across +the little fore-court, paled off from the street by wooden railings, +gently opened the door, and walked in to the dark passage. + +The study door was ajar, and we peeped in. There the old, familiar figure +was, eyesight feebler, shoulders rounder, hair whiter, and clothing +shabbier than of yore, crumpled over a massive folio. He was reading +aloud, in a monotonous, squeaky half-pitch. Latin hexameters they were, +for even his voice could not hide all the music in them, and as I listened +it became clear that the old man had that night been moved to select +something appropriate to the occasion, for he was going through the +account of the fall of Troy in the second Aeneid. + +I put my fingers on my lips and crept on, followed by Mistress Waynflete. +In the little back room I whispered, "My old school and schoolmaster. We +will not disturb the old man. Poor little Marry-me-quick may have to +suffer on our account, and old Bloggs shall at any rate have the excuse of +knowing nothing about us. He's happy enough over the fall of Troy. Nothing +that he can do can help us. Let him be." + +She nodded assent and I looked round. Opening a cupboard, I found half a +loaf of bread, a nipperkin of milk, and a rind of cheese. "Eat," said I, +"and think it's rabbit-stew." I made her take all the milk, but shared the +bread and cheese. Troy went on falling steadily meanwhile, and when we had +finished our scanty nuncheon I once more led the way, and we passed out +into the little yard behind the schoolhouse, and gained the playground, +the outer boundary of which was the town wall, here some twelve feet high +and in a fair state of preservation. Many generations of schoolboys had +cut and worn a series of big notches on each side of the wall, and by long +practice I could run up and down in a trice to fetch ball or tipcat which +had been knocked over. + +From the bridge at the Hanyards onwards, Mistress Waynflete had always +acted promptly and exactly to my wish. I felt a boor, and was in truth a +boor, in comparison with her. Brocton's 'yokel blood' gibe had put murder +into my blows, but it had truth enough in it to make it rankle like a +poisoned arrow. Yet here was this wonder-woman, trustful as a child and +meeker than a milkmaid. My work was new, but at any rate I had sometimes +dreamed that I could do a man's work when I got my chance, and I had limbs +of leather and steel to do it with. My thoughts, however, were newer +still, and had no background of daydreams to stand against. Moreover, +things had gone with such a rush that I had had no time to shake and sift +them into order. At the foot of that wall all I knew, and that but dimly, +was that there were thoughts that made a man's work the one thing worth +living for. + +"Get your breath, madam," said I. "You want it all now, and there's no +need to hurry." + +She leaned easily against the wall, and peered round to make out her +surroundings. The only result could be to give her the impression that she +was cooped up like a rat in a trap, but with characteristic indifference +for herself, she only said: + +"And this was your school?" + +"For many years, seven or more." + +She was silent for a time and then went on. + +"You have led a quiet life, Master Wheatman?" + +"Ha," thought I, "she's gauging my capacity to help her," and added +aloud, bitterly reminiscent, "The life of a yokel, madam." + +"You have read much?" + +"Yes, I'm fond of reading. It passes the long winter nights." + +"And no doubt you know by heart the merry gests of Robin Hood and the +admirable exploits of Claude Duval?" + +I felt her eyes on me in the dark, and longed for the sun so that I could +see the blue glint in them. + +"No such rubbish, indeed," said I hotly. It was a slight on Master +Bloggs, droning away yonder at the fall of Troy, not to say the sweet old +vicar. + +"What then?" + +"Livy and Caesar, and stuff like that, but mainly Virgil." + +"Then it's very, very curious," she whispered emphatically. + +No doubt yokel blood ought not to run like wine under the mighty pulse of +Virgil, and I sourly asked, "What's curious, madam? Old Bloggs has nothing +to teach except Latin, and I happened to take to it. Why curious?" + +"Really, Master Wheatman, not curious? Here we are in a narrow yard at +the foot of a high wall. I'm perfectly certain that within five minutes I +shall be whisked over to the other side. And you got that out of Virgil?" + +"Straight out of Virgil, madam. Stafford was our Troy, and this the wall +thereof. I've got in and out thousands of times." + +She peered comically around the dark playground and said gaily, "I see no +wooden horse. There should be one, I know. Master Dryden says so, and he +knows all about Virgil." + +"Poof," said I. "If old Bloggs heard you, he'd tingle to thrash you black +and blue." + +"He couldn't now I've got my breath again," she laughed. + +"I'm glad of that. Let me explain. Here is a ladder of notches in the +wall, left and right alternately. Feel for them." She did so, and I went +on: "They are roughly three feet apart on each side. I'll climb up first +and assist you up the last few. Your skirts will trouble you, I fear." + +"Not much, for I'll turn them up." She promptly did so, and fastened the +edges round her waist. She also discarded the long, cumbrous domino, and I +took it from her. + +"Watch me," said I, "and follow when I give the word. I'll have a look +round first." + +Up I went, hand over hand, as easily as ever I had done it. I crouched +down on the top of the wall, which, fortunately, lay in the shadow of the +schoolhouse. I saw in the sky the reflected glare of a fire at the north +gate, another picket I supposed, but there were houses without the gate, +and these were dark and silent. There was no fear of our being observed. + +"Come!" I whispered. + +She started boldly and came up with cheering swiftness. I spread the +domino in readiness, then stretched down to help her, and in another +moment she was sitting the wall as a saddle. + +"Splendid, for a novice," I said. + +"And a novice in skirts, short ones." + +She went first down the other side, and I nearly pitched headlong in +assisting her as far down as possible. She lowered her skirts while I +followed and then I helped her into the domino, rejoicing in the silken +caress of her hair on my hands as I arranged the hood, a pleasant piece of +officiousness for which I got thanks I did not deserve, and off we started. + +Again she asked nothing as to what we were going to do and whither we +were bound. The blazing windows of a comfortable inn might have been in +sight for aught she cared to all outward seeming. Yet here she was, close +on midnight, in bitterly cold weather, stepping out into rough and unknown +country in company with a man she had only known a few hours. + +I went ahead and thought it over. For ten minutes we picked our way in +the deep shadow along the foot of the wall, _per opaca locorum_, as +the great weaver of words puts it, and then I turned outwards into the +open field and the clear moonlight. Of her own accord she placed her arm +in mine, and we stepped it out bravely together. + +"We are in unenclosed land here," I explained. "On our right is a patch +which varies between bog and marsh and pool, according to the rains. The +townsmen call it the King's Pool, whatever state it is in. Just ahead, you +can see the line of it, is a little stream, the Pearl Brook. If it isn't +frozen over yet, I can easily carry you across, as it's not more than six +inches deep. The freemen of the Ancient Borough--yon little town has +slumbered there nearly eight hundred years--have, by immemorial custom, +the right of fishing in the Pearl Brook with line and bent pin." + +"They do not catch many thirty-pound jack, I suppose?" + +"Dear me, no. But it was here I learned to like fishing, and I went on +from minnows and jacksharps to pike." + +"And wandering damsels," she interrupted, with a laugh that sounded to me +like the music of silver bells. A minute later, on the edge of the brook, +she said vexedly, "And it's not frozen over." But I had already noticed +that fact with great elation. + +"Not more than six inches, you say," she muttered, and made to step in. + +"And if it were not so much as six barley-corns," I said, "I would not +suffer you to wade it. What am I for, pray you, madam?" + +Without more ado, I lifted her once more in my arms--the fourth time that +day--and started. I cursed the narrowness of the Pearl Brook. I could +almost have hopped across it, but by dawdling aslant the stream I had her +sweet face near mine in the moonlight, and my arms round her proud body, +for a couple of minutes. "Yokel blood or not," I thought, "this is +something my Lord Brocton will never do." + +A quarter of an hour later, after helping her up a short, steep scarp, we +stood and looked back on the little town. Its roofs were bathed in +moonlight, and the great church tower stood out in grey against the +blue-black sky. Patches of dull, ruddy glow in the sky marked the sites of +the picket-fires, and there came to us, like the gibbering of ghosts in +the wind, the dying notes of the day's excitement. To our left, bits of +silver ribbon marked the twistings of the river, and that darker line in +the distant darkness was the hills of my home and boyhood. At their feet +was the Hanyards, and Kate and mother. There was a little mist in my eyes, +and the eyes I turned and looked into were brimming with tears. + +"And now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "let us on to our inn." + +"Our inn!" she echoed, and there was dismay in her voice. "Our inn, and I +haven't a pennypiece. For safety, I put my hat, my riding jacket, and my +purse under the bed at Marry-me-quick's, and the fight and hurry drove +them out of my mind completely." + +"And I'm in the same case exactly," said I, and laughed outright. I had +little use for money at the Hanyards, least of all in the pockets of my +Sunday best, and not until she told me her plight did I realize the fact +that in the elation of starting from home, I had forgotten that money +might be necessary. Though I laughed, I watched her closely. Now she would +break down. No woman's heart could stand the shock. + +"My possessions," she said, "are precisely two handkerchiefs, one of +Madame du Pont's washballs, and most of a piece of the famous +marry-me-quick." + +I had been mistaken. She made no ado about our serious situation, but +spoke with a grave humour that fetched me greatly. + +"Quite a lengthy inventory," I replied. "My contributions to the common +stock are--" and I fumbled in my pockets--"item, one handkerchief; item, +a pocket-knife; item, one pipe and half a paper of tobacco; item, one +flask, two-thirds full of Mistress Kate Wheatman's priceless peppermint +cordial, the sovereign remedy against fatigue, cold, care, and the +humours; item, something unknown which has been flopping against my hip +and is, by the outward feel of it, a thing to rejoice over, to wit, one of +Kate's pasties." + +I pushed my hand down for it, and then laughed louder than ever, as I +drew forth my dumpy little Virgil. + +"Item," I concluded, "the works of the divine master, P. Vergilius Maro, +hidden in my pocket by that mischievous minx and monkey, Kate Wheatman of +the Hanyards." And I told the story. + +"Then if Kate had not hidden your beloved Virgil, you would not have gone +fishing?" + +"I'm sure I shouldn't." + +"Life turns on trifles, Master Wheatman, and to a pretty girl's sisterly +jest I owe everything that has happened since I first saw you on the river +bank." + +"We owe it, madam," I corrected gently, and I turned to go on, for I saw +that she was moved and troubled at the evil she thought she had brought on +me. Evil! I was enjoying every breath I drew and every step I took, and my +heart was like a live coal in the midst of my bosom. + +"Have no fear, Mistress Margaret," said I cheerfully, sweeping my hand +out. "There's broad Staffordshire before us, a goodly land full of meat +and malt and money, and we'll have our share of it." + +"But you'll have to steal it for me." + +"'Convey the wise it call," "I quoted. + +"That's better," and she smiled up at me in the moonlight. "Virgil puts +you right above my poor wits, but say you love Shakespeare too, and we +shall have one of the great things of life in common." + +"I do, madam, but you must learn to rate things at their true value. You +speak French?" + +"Oh yes." + +"And Italian?" + +"Yes." + +"And play the harpsichord?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, madam, I am a half-educated boor compared with you, for I know +none of these things. But though I do not know the French or Italian for +marry-me-quick, if you will get it out of your pocket, I'll show you the +Staffordshire for half of it." + +We marched on gaily for another quarter of an hour, eating the sweet +morsel. Then I said, "Even an old traveller and campaigner like you will +be glad to learn that our inn is at hand." + +"Very glad, but I see no signs of it." + +"Well, no," said I, "it's not exactly an inn, but just a plain barn. You +shall sleep soft and safe and warm, though, and even if we had money and +an inn was at hand, it would be foolish to go there. Your case is hard, +madam, and I wish I could offer you better quarters." + +Under the shelter of a round knoll clumped with pines, lay an ancient +farmhouse. We were approaching it from the front, and its sheds and barns +were at the rear. We therefore turned into the field and fetched a +circuit, and soon stood at the gate leading into the farmyard. No one +stirred, not even a dog barked, as I softly opened the gate and crept, +followed by Mistress Waynflete, to the nearest building. I pushed open the +door, we entered a barn, and were safe for the night. The moon shone +through the open door, and I saw that the barn was empty, probably because +the year's crops, as I knew to my sorrow, had been poor indeed in our +district. The fact that the barn was bare told in our favour, as no farm +hand would be likely to come near it should one be stirring before us next +morning. + +A rick stood handy in the yard, and on going to it I found that three or +four dasses of hay had been carved out ready for removal to the stalls. I +carried them to the shed, one by one, and mighty hot I was by the time I +dumped the last on the barn floor. Starting off again, I poached around in +another shed, and was lucky enough to find a pile of empty corn sacks. +Spreading these three or four deep in the far corner of the barn, I +covered them thickly with hay, and having reserved a sack on purpose, I +stuffed it loosely with hay to serve for a pillow. + +All this busy time Mistress Waynflete stood on the moonlit door-sill, +silent as a mouse, and when I stole quietly up to tell her all was ready, +I saw that her hands were clasped in front and her lips moved. I bared my +head and waited, for she had transformed this poor barn into a maiden's +sanctuary. + +She turned her face towards me. "Madam," said I, very quietly, "your bed +is ready, and you are tired out and dead for sleep. Pray come!" + +Still silent, she stepped up and examined my rude handiwork. Then she +curled herself up on the hay, and I covered her with more hay till she lay +snug enough to keep out another Great Frost. + +"Good night, madam, and sweet sleep befall you," and I was turning away. + +"Ho!" she said, "and pray where do you propose to sleep?" + +"I shall nest under the rick-straddle." + +"Sir," and her tone was almost unpleasant, "for the modesty you attribute +unto me, I thank you. For the gratitude you decline to attribute unto me, +I dislike you. But pray give me credit for a little common sense. I shall +desire your services in the morning, and I do not want to find you under a +rick, frozen to a fossil." + +"No, madam." + +She sprang out of bed, tumbling the hay in all directions. + +"Master Wheatman, I will not pretend to misunderstand you, and indeed, I +thank you, but you are going to put your bed here," stamping her foot, "so +that we can talk without raising our voices. I am much more willing to +sleep in the same barn with you than in the same town with my Lord +Brocton. Where's your share of the sacks?" + +I did without sacks, but I fetched more chunks of hay, and she helped me +strew a bed for myself close up to her own. I tucked her up once more, and +then made myself cosy. I was miserable lest I should snore. Yokels so +often do. Joe Braggs, for instance, would snore till the barn door rattled. + +I remembered the cordial, and we each had a good pull at the flask. I +felt for days the touch of her smooth, soft fingers on mine as she took it. + +"It certainly does warm you up," she said. "I feel all aglow without and +within." + +"Then I may take it that you are comfortable?" + +"If it were not for two things, I should say this was a boy-and-girl +escapade of ours, every moment of which was just pure enjoyment." + +"Naturally you are uneasy about your father, but I cannot think he will +come to any immediate harm. Why Brocton should send him north instead of +south is, I confess, a mystery, but to-morrow will solve it. And what else +makes you uneasy?" + +"You," she replied, very low and brief. + +"I? And pray, madam, what have I done to make you uneasy?" + +"Met me." Still the same tone. + +"I am not able to talk to you in the modish manner, nor do I think you +would wish me to try to ape my betters, so I say plainly that our meeting +has not made me uneasy. Why then you?" + +"Had you not met me, you would now be asleep at the Hanyards, a free and +happy country gentleman. Instead you are here, a suspect, a refugee, an +outlaw, one tainted with rebellion, the jail for certain if you are +caught, and then--" + +She broke off abruptly, and I think I heard a low sob. + +"And then?" + +"Perhaps the gibbet." + +"It's true that the thieving craft is a curst craft for the gallows, but +to-morrow's trouble is like yesterday's dinner, not worth thinking on. We +are here, safe and comfortable. Let that suffice. And to-day, so far from +doing harm at which you must needs be uneasy, you have wrought a miracle." + +"Wrought a miracle? What do you mean?" + +"You have found a cabbage, and made a man. Good night, Mistress Waynflete." + +"Good night, Master Wheatman." + +I imitated the regular breathing of a tired, sleeping man. In a few +minutes it became clear that she was really asleep, and I pretended no +longer, but stretched out comfortably in the fragrant hay and soon slept +like a log. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE CONJURER'S CAP + + +I awoke between darkness and daylight. Mistress Waynflete still slept +peacefully and there was as yet no need to rouse her. I had slept in my +shoes, but now, I drew them off, lifted the bar of the door, and stole out +to look around. Not a soul was stirring about the farm, and the only +living creature in sight was a sleepy cock, which scuttled off noisily at +my approach. I entered a cowshed, where a fine, patient cow turned a +reproachful eye on me, as if rebuking me for my too early visit. I +cheerily clucked and slapped her on to her hoofs, and then, failing to +find any sort of cup or can, punched my hat inside out and filled it with +warm foaming milk. With this spoil I hurried back to our quarters. + +I had to leave the door open, and this gave me light enough to look more +closely at my companion. She was still sleeping, her face calmly content, +and so had she slept through the night, for the coverlet of hay was rising +and falling undisturbed on her breast. It was now time to wake her, and, +having no free hand, I knelt down to nudge her with my elbow. As I did so, +her face changed. A look of concern came over it, then one of hesitation, +then a sweet smile, chasing each other as gleam chases gloom across the +meadows on an April day. She was dreaming, dreaming pleasantly, and it was +to a hard world that I awakened her. + +At my second nudge she half-opened her eyes and murmured, "It's very +wide." Then my greeting aroused her fully, and she blushed wondrous red +and beautiful. + +"Good morrow, Mistress Waynflete," said I. "I grieve to disturb you, and, +pray you, do not move too abruptly or over goes the breakfast." + +"Good morrow, Master Oliver," she replied. "I have slept well. I feel as +if I've quite enjoyed it. We do enjoy sleep, I think, sometimes." + +"Or the dreams it brings, madam." + +She glanced quickly at me, as if afraid that I had the power of reading +dream-thoughts, and gaily said, "And breakfast ready! This is even better +than the Paris fashion. What is it? More of dear Kate's cordial?" + +I did not know what the Paris fashion of breakfast was, and she did not +enlighten me. Anyhow, I, the yokel, had improved on it, and that was +something. + +"A far better brewage, madam," I said, "but you must pardon the +Staffordshire fashion of serving it." + +She sat up, took the cap, and drank heartily, the dawn still in her eyes +and cheeks, and masses of yellow hair tumbling down from under her hood on +throat and bosom. When she handed back the cap, I could not forbear from +saying, "You look charming after your night's rest, and I profess that +tear of milk on the tip of your nose becomes you admirably." With the rim +of my cap at my lips, I added with mock concern, "Have a care, Mistress +Waynflete, or you'll rub off tip as well as tear." + +"I suppose you thought 'As a jewel of gold' and the rest of it," she +said, squinting comically down to examine her nose. + +"Really, no, madam; I thought of nothing so scandalous, from the Bible +though it be. I thought of--of...." + +"I'm all ears," she said archly. + +"I'm a poor hand at turning compliments to ladies," said I. + +"On the contrary, you turn them admirably. See!" She held up my sopping +cap, and laughed merrily. + +"It's ruined for best," said I, "but it will do for market days. And now, +madam, it's cold enough to freeze askers, as Joe Braggs says, and for +toilet you must e'en be content with first a shiver and then a shake. I +will await you at the yard gate, and pray close the door behind you. The +quicker the better." + +She rejoined me in two or three minutes. I closed the gate cautiously +behind me, and we started our journey. From the farm we got away quite +unobserved, but I looked behind me at every other step to make surer, till +we turned the top of the knoll, and it was with great relief that I saw +the chimney-pots sink out of sight. + +For a time we walked along briskly and in silence. So far I had carried +everything with a high hand and successfully, but the cold grey of the +morning began to creep into my thoughts as I looked ahead over miles and +miles of dreariness and danger. Houses were few and far between; every +village was a source of danger; the high roads were closed to us by our +fear of the troops. Further, the object we had in view was vague and +unformed, if not impossible of achievement, for even if we arrived at the +very place where Colonel Waynflete was held prisoner, what could we do to +help him? We should be safe from immediate need and danger if we could +reach the Prince's army, but where that was, and which way it was +travelling, were unknown to us. Certain it was that between us and any +real help ranged some thirty miles of cold, bleak country packed with +enemies for miles ahead. And here we were, on foot, penniless and hungry. +I had longed for a man's work; this was a regiment's. + +A sidelong look at my companion drove all the mist and frost out of my +heart. Something about her made me feel a sneak and a traitor even for +harbouring such thoughts. From the first she had asked for no help of +mine. I had forced it on her, or circumstances had forced me to help her +in helping myself, as when I cut our way from Marry-me-quick's cottage. +The more I was with her, the better I began to understand Brocton's +madness. It was the madness of the mere brute in him to be sure, and a man +should kick the brute in him into its kennel, though he cannot at times +help hearing it whine. Her majestic beauty had dazzled him as a flame +dazzles a moth, but at this stage, at any rate, it was not her beauty that +made me her thrall. That I could have withstood. Because she was so +beautiful, so stately, so compelling, she made no appeal to me. What I +mean is, that I did not fall in love with her at first sight, simply +because the mere stupidity of such a thing kept me from doing it. +Glow-worms do not fall in love with stars or thistles with sycamores. She +was something to be worshipped, served at any cost, saved at any +sacrifice, but not loved. No, that was for some lucky one of her own class +and state, not for a simple squireling like me. Her comradeship, her +graciousness, her sweet equalizing of our positions, were, I felt, just +the simple, natural adornments of the commanding modesty which was her +spiritual garment. + +Manlike, however, I had an evil streak in me, and thence, later, came +madness. In any company I must be top dog. I had been head of the school, +not because of any special cleverness, but because I would burst rather +than be second to anybody in anything. I had fought and fought, at all +hazards, until not a boy in school or town dare come near me. So now, +since my Lord Brocton--and many a lord beside, I doubted not--had failed, +I must needs step in and say, "I will please her, whether she like it or +not." And so, plain countryman as I was, I had done my work ungrudgingly +but not, I feared, too modestly, and since I could not speak court-like, I +had been over-masterful, and given her mood for mood, and turned no cheek +for her sweet smiting. And as I had of old time licked every lad in +Stafford, so now neither Staffordshire nor all the King's men in it should +turn me back. Through she should go, and in safety and comfort, so that +when the time came for me to hand over my precious charge to a worthier, +she should say that the yokel had done a man's work and done it +gentlemanly. Therefore, when Mistress Waynflete looked up to me from the +bleak uplands with serious, questioning eyes, I said, as calmly as if we +were pacing the garden at the Hanyards, with Kate and Jane active in the +kitchen behind us, "Ham and eggs for breakfast!" + +"I don't see any," she said, in answering mood, scanning the fields +around us. "Not that that matters. I didn't see the steps, but they were +there. You make me think, Master Wheatman, of a Turk I saw in a booth at +Vienna, who drew rabbits and rose-bushes out of an empty hat. +Staffordshire is your conjurer's hat. And I do like ham and eggs." + +My assurance and her comfortable belief in it made us both brighter, and +we stepped out merrily. She gave me an entertaining account of Vienna, +where she had spent some months, and which was then the great outpost of +Christendom against the Turk. When this talk had brought us on to the +field of Hopton Heath, I gave her the best account I could of the battle +there in the Civil War time, and of the slaying of the Marquis of +Northampton. And this led me on to my pride of ancestry, and I told her of +Captain Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, a tower of strength to the +Parliament in these parts, who fought here and later on Naseby Field +itself. Many tales I told of him that had been handed down from one +generation of us to another, and how so greatly was he taken with his +incomparable lord-general that he had named his first-born son Oliver, and +ever since there had been an Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. Then I told +how one of these later Olivers, which one a matter of no consequence, had +written verses and put them into the mouth of the doughty +Smite-and-spare-not, sitting his horse, stark and strong, at the head of +his men on Naseby Field, and gazing with grim, grey eyes on the opening +movements of the fight. And, nothing loth, I trolled them out roundly +across the meadows, till the peewits screamed and a distant dog began to +bay: + + "Princelet and king, and mitre and ring, + Earl and baron and squire, + Oliver worries 'em, harries and flurries 'em, + With siege and slaughter and fire. + With the arm of the Flesh and the sword of the Spirit, + Push of pike and the Word, + Smiting and praying, and praising and slaying, + Oliver fights for the Lord. + With the sword He brought the work is wrought, + We finish here to-day. + When yon rags and remnants of Babylon + Are blown and battered away. + + Hurrah for the groans of 'em, soon shall the bones of 'em, + _Steady!_ Hell-rakers at large, + Rot under the sod. _Pass the word: 'God_ + _Is our strength?'_ There goes Oliver. _Charge!_" + +When I had done she applauded so that my face burned until I was +discommoded and fell into her trap. + +"I wish you'd written them, Master Wheatman." + +"Well, I did," said I grumpily, not liking to be bereft of any little +glory in her eyes. + +"What, you?" Her eyebrows arched and her lips curled. "You, oh, never. +'Smiting and praying'? 'The arm of the Flesh and the sword of the +Spirit.'" She mouthed the words deliciously. + +"But, doubtless, when you see my Lord Brocton again, you'll put in the +Word and the praying." Here her sweet voice trailed off into a dainty +snuffle: "'My dear lord, since out of the mouths of babes and sucklings +proceedeth wisdom, hearken, I pray you, unto me, Oliver Wheatman, to wit +of the Hanyards, and amend ye your ways lest I hit you over your cockscomb +again, and very much harder than before. Repent ye, my lord, for the hour +is at hand, and if you don't, I'll thump you into one of our Kate's +blackberry jellies.' And here endeth the goodly discourse of that saintly +rib-roaster, Master Hit-him-first-and-then-pray-for-him Wheatman of the +Hanyards." + +It was simply glorious to be so tormented by this witch with the dancing +blue eyes. + +"For this scandalous contempt of the Muses," said I soberly, "I shall +punish you by frizzling your share of the ham to a cinder." + +During my schoolboy days I had roamed the countryside till I knew it as +an open book, and this minute knowledge was our salvation now. The +immediate need was food, and food obtained without price and without our +being observed by anyone. At seven o'clock on a hard winter morning in +open country, this seemed to require a miracle. As a matter of fact, it +was as easy as shelling peas. + +Since crossing the heath we had been travelling nearer to one of the main +roads, that leading out of the east gate to the town, and now we got our +first glimpse of it lying like a broad, brown ribbon half-way down the +slope of a very steep hill. In the upper half, this hill was pretty well +wooded and the road cut clean through the wood, but between us and the +wood there lay the level crest of the hill, cut by hedges into several +fields, and crossed by a rough cart-track leading past a roomy, +one-storied cottage, grey-walled and brown-thatched, and on through the +wood into the main road. The cottage, with its outbuildings, made a +little farmstead, and here lived Dick Doley and his wife Sal, who did a +little farming, but mainly lived by huckstering. Today was market-day at +Stafford, and unless they had broken the routine of half a lifetime, they +would now be packing their little cart with marketables and soon be off +for the town. They had neither chick nor child, lad-servant nor lassie, +and they would leave the cottage empty and at our disposal. At this time +of the day I could, of course, have trusted both, but they were very human +bodies of a sort to rejoice the business side of the heart of Joe Braggs, +and it was best not to give them the chance of blabbing later in the day +when, for a moral certainty, they would both be market fresh. Besides, it +was unfair to thrust myself on the kindness of anyone. I had more than +once wondered what had happened to poor little Marry-me-quick. + +I scrambled through the hedge and peeped down the road. I was right. Dick +and his wife were busy loading up. So we waited behind the hedge till they +had cleared off, and indeed did not move till I saw them and their cart +pass along the road at the foot of the hill. + +Time has not blurred the memory of a single detail of our stay in this +welcome house of refuge, but the telling of what was moving and charming +to me would, I fear, bore others. There was a ham, two indeed, and +flitches beside, in the rack hanging from the ceiling, and there were +eggs--three, to be precise--in the larder, to which, by equal good luck +considering the time of the year, I added two more by a raid into the +hen-house. It was all natural and simple enough, but Mistress Waynflete +hailed their production almost as amazedly as if I had indeed drawn them +out of my hat. But how I fetched and carried, chopped wood and drew water, +swept the floor and laid the table, fried ham and boiled eggs, doing all +these things with music in my heart and a noisy song on my lips--is +everything to me and nothing to my tale. + +Mistress Waynflete had disappeared into one of the three or four rooms of +which the house consisted, to make herself presentable, as she absurdly +put it. When the table was laid and the ham cooked, I halloed the news to +her, and rushed off to the shed to attend to my outward appearance. I did +want it, being indeed not far short of filthy. + +Perhaps I hurried unexpectedly. At any rate, on returning I found +Mistress Waynflete bending over something on the hearth. Straightening +herself hastily, and with a pretty confusion, at my approach, she cried, +"Oh, Master Oliver, the ham was burning, and you threatened my share of +it, you know!" + +I could not reply. Down to her hips her rich amber hair flowed like a +bridal veil, and from amid a wealth of snowy lace, fluttering on the orbed +glory of perfect womanhood, her neck rose smooth and stately as a shaft of +alabaster. Her cheeks crimsoned with maiden shamefastness, but the blue +eyes met mine without a hint of maiden fear, and for that thanks as well +as reverence filled my heart as I bowed to her. Maidenlike, she drew her +golden veil more closely over her bosom, and tripped back to finish her +toilet, leaving me amated and abashed by the vision I had beheld. I think +it was from that moment that my joy in my work began to be mingled with +the despair of my love. Certainly it was a chastened Oliver Wheatman who +placed a chair for her when she came in again for breakfast, and helped +her to the good things a kindly fortune had provided. + +It is my belief that each of us was secretly amused at the steady zeal +with which the other attacked the meal. We wrangled over the odd egg, each +insisting on the other having it, she because I was strong, and needed it, +I because I was strong and could do without it, and finally adopted the +usual compromise. We had more than gone round the clock with barely a +mouthful, and we ate as those who know not where the next meal's meat is +to come from. Frankly, I, at any rate, gave myself a fair margin before +the pinch should come again, and Mistress Waynflete averred that she had +never in her life before eaten so much or so toothsomely. + +Our meal over, I stacked the fire with fresh logs, asked and obtained +permission to smoke a pipe, and made my sweet mistress cosy in the +chimney-corner. Then we began to take stock of our position. + +"There's no good to come of hurrying," said I. "Here we are both snug and +safe, and your night's rest was but short. Let us see where we stand." + +I did not really believe that any amount of talking would help much, but +repose would do her good, and I had a big idea running in and out of my +mind. Our first difficulty, food and rest, had been overcome, and I was +bent on mastering the next. No amount of discussion gave us any key to the +one great mystery. When Brocton had captured Colonel Waynflete at Milford, +the obvious thing to do with him was to send him prisoner to the Duke at +Lichfield. Though the Colonel carried no papers which made his purpose +clear, Brocton knew well what the object of his journey was, and the +suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act put the Colonel in his power. Or, he +might have carried him before a justice of the peace, his friend Master +Dobson for choice, and had him committed to the town jail. The course +actually taken, that of sending him ahead, under guard, in the very van of +the royal army, was to us utterly inexplicable. His mad lust for Mistress +Margaret explained the separation of father and daughter. The thought did +occur to me, though I took great care not to hint at it, that he intended +to make away with the Colonel, and looked to finding tools among his +blackguardly dragoons and an opportunity when in actual conflict with the +Highlanders. I hesitated, however, to believe that Brocton was such a +villain as to commit an unnecessary murder. The plan he had adopted had, +anyhow, this advantage to us that, when we did come into touch with the +prisoner, our chances of assisting him were far greater than if he were in +jail in Stafford or Lichfield. + +Whatever my lord's motives were, it was clear that he was not acting in +the plain, straight-dealing manner to be expected of one in his position. +There were other signs of crookedness, slight but not without weight. I +could understand his joy on finding me at Marry-me-quick's. It meant that +I was a rebel, and as a loyal man, who had gone to expenses to prove his +loyalty, he might easily get the Hanyards as a reward, and thus round off +the family property in our neighbourhood. His reference to a "solatium" +puzzled me, but it did not seem anything of consequence. What had I but +the Hanyards to solace him with? A more important puzzle had been his +behaviour at Master Dobson's. To find me on the royal side, as he then +supposed, and to hear my reason for it, had clean dazed him. Then there +was the look, a signal-look beyond a doubt, which I had surprised him +giving his bully, Major Pimple-face, and which was followed by the +latter's attempt to embroil the stranger from London in a row. + +"It is useless, Master Wheatman, to speculate further on what Lord +Brocton is doing," said my mistress at last. "He has his ends. I am one of +them. Another is, no doubt, to fill his pockets, somehow or other. It was +common talk in town that he was head over ears in debt." + +While we had talked and had rested, I had not been idle. Dick Doley's +roomy kitchen had two windows, one overlooking the cart-track, and another +the slope of the hill. The hill was so made and the house so placed that +from this second window we could see the strip of road at the bottom of +the hill where it curved on to the level again. I had kept a sharp look +out on that bit, but had seen no one pass along it either way as yet. + +In one corner of the room Dick kept an ancient fowling-piece, more of a +tool of husbandry than a weapon, since his only use for it was to scare +birds. It was a heavy, unhandy thing, with a brass barrel down which I +could have dropped a sizable duck egg, and round its thick-rimmed nozzle +some one had rudely graven, "Happy is he that escapeth me." I fetched it +out of its corner, and cleaned and oiled it. I now loaded it, for +powder-horn and shot-bag hung near it on the wall, putting in a handful +of the biggest sort of shot, swan-shot as I should call them. During this +task, Mistress Waynflete watched me narrowly, but made no reference to it. + +"Now," said I, "our main requisite is the stuff, the ready, the rhino, +the swag--call it what you will. How do you fancy me as a knight of the +road? The first copper-faced farmer I come across shall surely stand and +deliver. Here's an argument he cannot resist." + +At last my scrutiny of the road was rewarded. A solitary horseman came in +sight from the direction of the town. + +"Mistress Waynflete," said I, picking up the fowling-piece, "there's a +traveller yonder coming from Stafford. It will be well if I go and ask him +a few questions." + +She almost leaped at me, red anger flashing in her eyes but her face +white as milk. "Sir," she said, "you shall not turn thief for me. I will +not have it." + +"Pray, madam," replied I huffily, "expound the moral difference between +stealing ham and stealing guineas. I'm all for morality." + +"I cannot, Master Wheatman, but you must not, shall not go." She caught +hold of my sleeve. "Say you won't! If you are found out it means--" + +"I shall not be found out. You may take that for sure. Think you that I +cannot pluck yon chough without being pinched? It's no more robbery than +our eating Dick's ham and eggs. We are soldiers in enemy's country, and we +plunder by right of the known rules of war. As a concession to your +prejudices in favour of the jog-trot morality of peace, I will e'en ask +him whether he be for James or George, and borrow or command his guineas +in accordance with his reply. Loose my sleeve, madam!" + +I loosened the grip of her fingers, and led her back to her chair. "You +overrate my danger, sweet mistress, and under rate our need. Without +money, we might as well lie under the nearest hedge and leave Jack Frost +to settle matters his way, and a cold, nasty way it would be. Your guinea +is a good fighter, and we need his help. It must be done, and, never fear, +I'll carry it through safely." + +So I left her, white hands grappling the arms of her chair, and white +face turned away from me. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN + + +I left the cottage from the rear and struck slantwise across the fields +to reach the shelter of the trees and undergrowth that covered the slope +down to the road. I ran hard so as to shake irresolution out of my mind, +for I found myself half wishing that Mistress Waynflete had pleaded with +me at first instead of trying to thrust me out of my plan. After all the +highwayman's was hardly my calling in life. So I ran hard, saying to +myself that it must be done, and the sooner it was over the better. Then I +laughed. With my rusty old birding-piece I was as ill-equipped for +highwaymanship as I was for farming with my Georgics. "Stand and deliver," +quoth I to myself, "or I'll double your weight with swan-shot." Were the +unknown horseman a resolute man armed with a hair-trigger, I was as good +as done for. + +Arrived in the shelter of the wood, I began picking my way through the +thick undergrowth towards the road. Fallen branchlets snapped beneath my +heedless feet and the sounds rang in my ears like pistol-shots. A saucy +robin cocked his care-free eye on me from the top of a crab-tree, and I +could have envied him as I stumbled by. It was perhaps fourscore yards +through, and half-way I stopped to listen. Yes, there came to my ear the +slow trot-ot-ot of hoofs on the hard road. I went on again until, through +the leafless tangle, I began to get glimpses of the highway. My fate was +dragging me on. In a month's time my shrivelling carcase might be swinging +in chains on the top of Wes'on Bank, an ensample to evil-doers. The +thought made me shiver, and I jerked out a broken prayer that my intended +victim might turn out some fat, unarmed farmer, as easy a prey as an +over-fed gander. Then I cursed myself for a fool. No man can mortgage past +piety for present sin. Who was I that I should be allowed to steal on good +security? + +Trot-ot-ot. Trot-ot-ot. He was within easy shot now, and I stopped to +make sure of my rickety old weapon. A dragoon's musket would not have +needed such constant care. "Life turns on trifles," said Mistress +Waynflete. + +In lifting my eyes from the priming to move on again, something in the +line of vision made me start. On my left, less than a dozen paces from me, +there lay on the ground, on a clean patch beneath a conspicuously-forked +hawthorn, a man's jacket and plumed hat. + +A lion playing with a lamb would not have given me pause more abruptly. I +stole silently up to them. They were fine but somewhat faded garments, +modish and even foppish, and, so far as I could distinguish any +peculiarity, military in appearance, and evidently belonged to a person of +some quality. Nor had they been flung there in haste, for the coat was +neatly folded and the hat disposed carefully on top of it. How long had +they been there? I picked up the hat, and there was still the gloss of +recent sweat on its inside brim. + +This, however, was no time for idle problems, a very urgent one being on +hand. Forward I crept to the side of the road, and, lying flat down on the +ground, pushed the stock of my gun on to the short grass, and peeped +cautiously to my right down the hill. I was about thirty or forty yards +from a bend in the road, and had intended to be much less, but my +discovery and my confused, half-conscious thinking about it, had deflected +me a little from my course. + +Trot-ot-ot. He would be in sight in a few seconds. Trot-ot-ot, plainer +than ever, and there he was. The moment that he was in full view I made an +astonishing discovery, and saw an astonishing sight. + +The discovery was that the solitary horseman, walking his powerful grey +with a slack rein, and lost in thought, was Master Freake. + +The sight was the rush of three men from their lurking-places in the +brushwood. Two of them were soldiers, and Brocton's dragoons at that, a +sample of the town-sweepings Jack had complained of. One seized the reins, +the other held a carbine point-blank at the horseman's head. + +These were plainly deserters or freebooters, acting after their kind, and +they had picked up a strange partner during their foray. He wore a yokel's +smock much too big for him, and yet not big enough to hide his bespurred +riding-boots. On his head he had a dirty tapster's bonnet, and his face +was completely hidden by a rudely-cut crape vizard. This singular person +was evidently the leader of the gang. He threatened Master Freake with a +glittering, long-barrelled pistol, and in gruff, curt tones ordered him to +dismount on pain of instant death. + +Here was a strange overturn to be sure. Here again fate had rudely upset +my plans, and no fat purse would there be for me in this coil. However, +though I would have robbed Master Freake willingly enough, my blood being +up and he a manifest Hanoverian, I was not going to see Brocton's ruffians +rob him, much less kill him. The purse must wait, and when I took it--for +take it I must--God would perchance balance one thing against the other. + +All that I had seen and thought took place in a mere fraction of time, +and even before Master Freake had pulled up, I was creeping like a ferret +from bush to bush to get nearer. Then, just as in his quiet, measured +tones he was asking what they wanted, I burst out into the wood, shouting, +"Forward, my men, here the villains are!" With the words, I fired my +handful of swan-shot clean into the group, and then charged at them +yelling, in boyish imitation of a knight of old, "Happy is he that +escapeth me." + +The two dragoons instantly fled with yelps of pain and terror, and the +horse, squealing with fright, began to rear and plunge madly about the +road. Black Vizard turned on me, his pistol rang out, and the bullet +hissed by my ear. I sprang at him with clubbed gun, and struck hard for +his head, but caught him on the neck as he too turned to flee. He went +down, spinning and sprawling, in the road, right under the plunging horse. +With a squeal that curdled my blood, she rose in the air, kicking +viciously. Her hoofs came down with sickening thuds on the squirming man's +skull, cracking it like an egg-shell. His body twitched once or twice, and +then settled into the stillness of death. + +I seized the horse's rein and soothed her. She let me pat her neck and +rub her nose, and soon stood quiet, her neck flecked with foam, her flanks +reeking with sweat. Master Freake, who had not spoken a word, dismounted, +and I led the mare into the wood and hitched her reins over a bough. Then +I returned to the man I had saved, and found him looking calmly down on +the man I had killed. The black vizard was now soaking in a horrid pool of +blood and brains. I stooped, and with trembling fingers moved it aside and +revealed the features of the dead man. It was the pimple-faced Major. + +I turned to my intended victim, and found him looking calmly and +impassively at me. + +"Master Wheatman of the Hanyards, unless I am mistaken," he said. + +"Your servant, sir," said I, rather sourly. But for that dead rascal at +our feet I could beyond a doubt have plucked him like a chough, and here I +was, still penniless. + +"Master Wheatman, I am not a man of many words, but what I say I stand +by. I am your very grateful debtor for a very fine and courageous action. +Three to one is long odds, but you won with your brains, sir, as much as +by your bravery. Your shout was an excellent device, happily thought on." + +He held out his hand. I shook it heartily and then burst out laughing, +and laughed on till tears stood in my eyes. And this was the end of my +highwaymanship! + +"Since the danger is, thanks to you, over, Master Wheatman," he said, "I +would e'en like to share your mirth--if I may." + +"Sir," I replied, "I am laughing because I have saved you from robbers." + +"But why laugh?" + +"Because I set out ten minutes ago to rob you myself." + +Master Freake gazed casually up and down the hill, and then, fixing his +quiet grey eyes on me, said whimsically, "I am a man of peace, and +unarmed; the road is of a truth very lonely, and I have considerable sums +of money on me." + +"Yes, I'm quite vexed. This fire-faced scoundrel has upset my plans +finely. I may not get as good a chance for hours." + +Now it was his turn to laugh. "Master Wheatman," he said, "you are not +the stuff highwaymen are made of. As you are in need of money, you need it +for some good purpose, and I shall--" + +He stopped short. As we stood, he was facing the wood from which the +robbers had burst on him, while I had my back on it. As he stopped, his +strong, calm face changed, and his eyes were fixed on something in the +wood. Wonder, amazement, delight, awe--not one, but all of these emotions +were visible in his face. He looked as one who sees a blessed spirit. I +turned. It was Margaret, leaning, pale and spent and breathless, against +the trunk of a tree, looking and shuddering at the dread object in the +road. + +I bounded up to her and touched her on the arm. "All's well, Mistress +Waynflete," said I. "I am as yet no gallows-bird." + +"But--" Her eyes were still staring wide on the road, and she trembled +violently, so I stepped between her and the ghastly sight, and said, +"Courage, dear lady. The dead man is your father's worst enemy, Major +Tixall, and yon horse killed him, not I." + +By this, Master Freake had come nearer to us, and I turned to greet him. + +"Madam," said I, "this is my friend, Master Freake, whom I set out to +rob." To him I added, "This is Mistress Waynflete, whom I have the honour +to serve." + +He bared his head and bowed. "And whom I hope to have the honour of +serving too." + +I looked at him curiously. All other emotions had faded from his face +now, but it was clear that her peerless and now so helpless beauty had +appealed home to him. + +"Sir," she said, recovering herself with a great effort, "I am pleased to +make your acquaintance. And now,"--speaking to me,--"since you have given +me a great fright and made me behave like a milkmaid rather than a +soldier's daughter, perhaps you will tell me what has happened, and how +it"--she looked over my shoulder--"comes to be lying there. I heard shots +and shrieks that turned me to stone. What has happened?" + +"Master Wheatman," said our new acquaintance, taking my words out of my +mouth, "is hardly likely to give you a reasonably correct account. Allow +me to be the historian of his fine conduct." He told the story with +overmuch kindness to me, and as he told it the colour came back to her +face, and she was herself again. While he was telling it, I noticed for +the first time, or rather for the first time gathered its meaning, that +she had run out after me without the domino, and in the biting air she +might easily catch a chill. So while Master Freake was making a fine +sprose about me, much more applicable to Achilles or the Chevalier Bayard, +I slipped off and fetched the hat and coat. He was just concluding his +story on my return, and without interrupting him, I clumsily thrust the +hat on her head and flung the coat over her shoulders. + +"Master Freake," she said, in her sweetest bantering tones, "my servant, +as he absurdly calls himself, is really an artist in helping people. I +told him this morning that his native shire was his conjurer's hat, when +he fetched ham and eggs out of it for poor hungry me. Now he observes that +I am coatless and a-cold, and lo, a hat is on my head and a coat on my +shoulders. It is marvellous and nothing short of it. Nay, I shall shun him +as one in league with the powers of darkness if there's much more of it. +If I be saved, you remember Master Slender,"--this in a sly aside to +me,--"I'll be saved by them that have the fear of God." + +"Ingrate!" I cried, half angry and yet wholly delighted; "what of marvel +or devilment is there in picking up a hat and coat one has found lying +under a tree?" + +"Major Tixall's," said Master Freake. + +"Ass that I am, of course they are. Steady, Mistress Margaret, while I go +through the pockets. The odds are we shall find something useful in +checkmating my Lord Brocton." + +In this I was wrong, for there was not a single scrap of writing in any +of them. I did, however, fish out two small but heavy packets, wrapped in +paper. They were easily examined, and each contained a roll of ten guineas. + +"The hire of the two rascals," explained Master Freake. + +"Really, Mistress Margaret," said I, "there's something in what you said +just now. I do have his nether highness's own luck. I came out for +guineas, prepared to rob for them, and here's twenty of the darlings lying +ready for me to pick up. Now we can go ahead in comfort." + +Through all this talk I was turning over in my mind what account, if any, +we were to give Master Freake of our being here. If I had had only myself +to consider I should have trusted him without hesitation. He was the sort +of man that inspires confidence, his grave, serene, intelligent face +having strength and steadfastness written in every line of it. But I had +Mistress Waynflete to consider, and if any appeal was to be made for his +assistance, she must make it. I'm afraid that I hoped she wouldn't, since +I was jealous of any interference in my temporary responsibility for her +welfare. + +"Master Freake," I said, "some account will, I suppose, have to be given +of yon ruffian's death. The two runaways are scarcely likely to appear as +witnesses, so, for Mistress Waynflete's sake, I must ask you, should an +explanation become necessary, to conceal my share in the matter." + +"The manner of his death is fortunately quite obvious, and if it were +not, any account I choose to give of it will pass unquestioned." + +"Then it will be easy for you, I hope, to forget me when giving it. And +now, madam, I think we must be moving." + +"Before you go," said Master Freake, "let me say again that if I can help +you, you have only to ask. You, Master Wheatman, because your twofold +signal service is something it would shame me for ever not to be allowed +to return, and you, madam, because," he paused, and the curious rapt +expression came over his face again, "because you are very beautiful and +need help. Your father's politics will make no difficulty, so far as I am +concerned." + +"You know my father?" she asked, surprised. + +"Know of him. My Lord Brocton was boasting last night of his capture--and +of other things," he lamely concluded. + +"Is he boasting this morning?" I asked. + +"I have not seen him," he said, "but Mistress Dobson told me she thought +he'd been rooks'-nesting and had fallen off the poplar." + +"I met him again," said I, "and did not like his conversation." + +"Master Wheatman means," explained Mistress Waynflete, "that he saved me +from my Lord Brocton's clutches at the imminent risk of his own life." She +stretched out her hands and touched the holes in my coat with her white, +slender fingers. "My lord's rapier made these," she said. + +"An inch to the left, my friend," quoth Master Freake, "and you'd have +been as dead as mutton. His lordship, it seems, is busily piling up a big +account with both of us. Well, in my own way, I'll make the rascal pay as +dearly as you have in yours. If you will be pleased to accept my help, +madam, I will do all I can for you. There are, fortunately, other means +than carnal weapons of influencing such persons as Lord Brocton." + +"Like Master Wheatman, sir, you are too good to a poor girl." She said it +gratefully and humbly, and indeed so she felt, but no man could listen to +her meek words without pride. + +"I'm glad I turned footpad, in spite of you," said I to my dear mistress. + +"I can never thank you enough," was the simple reply. "It was wicked in +me to accept the sacrifice, but in God's good providence it was not made +in vain." + +"Then I come into the firm," said Master Freake smilingly, and when, +catching the meaning of his metaphor, she smiled brightly back at him, and +held out her hand, he bowed over it formally, but very kindly, and kissed +it. She blushed prettily, and then, after a moment's hesitation, +stretching it out to me, said, "But I must not forget the original +partner." I took the splendid prize in my rough, red, farmer's hand, and +kissed it reverently. The touch of my lips on her sweet, smooth flesh made +me tremble, and I knew the madness was creeping over me, but I gritted my +teeth, and our eyes met again. The blush had gone, but not the smile. It +was not now, however, the smile of a frank maiden but of an inscrutable +and dominating woman. I knew the difference, for instinct is more than +experience, and I chilled into the yokel again and wondered. + +"In one sense, at any rate," said Master Freake, "I am the senior +partner, and as such may, without presumption, speak first. I must go on +to Stone, but that will, I think, be best for our purpose. As I view the +situation, two things are requisite, first that you, Master Wheatman, +should get Mistress Waynflete in advance of all the royal troops, and so +out of danger, and secondly that we should learn precisely what has become +of Colonel Waynflete." + +"Exactly," I agreed. "The action of Lord Brocton in sending the Colonel +north instead of south, or at least of lodging him in jail at Stafford, is +inexplicable. True, his plan separates father and daughter, which is what +he wants, but either of the other methods would have served equally well +for that." + +Of course I said nothing of the other idea that was haunting my thoughts, +the idea that Brocton was scheming to get rid of the Colonel altogether. +In his lust and anger he might not stick at that, and any kind of +encounter with the enemy would serve his turn. The rascals under him were +worthy of their commander, a fact of which we had already ample proof. + +"It looks crooked, I confess," was his reply, "but there is this to be +said for it, that the Duke is following north along with the bulk of his +army, and, I hear, intends to make Stone his head-quarters." + +"That seems absurd," said I, "but of course he knows best." + +"The movements of the Prince's army are uncertain. The plan of their +leaders is never to say where the next halt will be. They will be to-day, +I know, in or near Macclesfield, and I learn that it is possible they may +turn off for Wales, where they believe they will find many recruits. The +farther north the Duke can safely go, the better placed he will be for +checking them if they do that, and his advance guard is posted at +Newcastle. The question is, how are you to get there first and without +being taken?" + +"By travelling the by-roads," said I. "We'll go through Eccleshall." + +"How long will it take you to get there?" he asked. + +"About three hours," said I, "if Mistress Waynflete can stand the pace." + +"Very good," he replied. "I will join you there, and do my best to get +horses for you in the meantime, and bring them along with me." + +"That's splendid," said I, "but I'd rather we met outside the village. +Not more than a mile and a half beyond it on the Newcastle road there's a +little wayside ale-house called the 'Ring of Bells,' at the foot of a +steep hill, with a large pool ringed with pines, known as Cop Mere, in +front of it. It's a lonely place and will serve better. Small place as +Eccleshall is, I shall skirt round it, and so get to the 'Ring of Bells.' +You cannot miss it if you ride through the village on the Newcastle road. +Whoever's there first will await the other." + +"Then in about three hours we'll meet at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I hope +I shall bring good news of the Colonel. Believe me, dear lady, short of +foul play on Brocton's part, and we have no reason to suspect that, your +father will be all right. Plain John Freake is not without influence. As +for the ruffian lying dead in the road, think no more of him." + +So saying he unhitched his horse, led her into the road, and mounted. He +bowed and smiled, said cheerily, "A pleasant walk to the 'Ring of Bells,'" +and cantered off. + +I stepped between madam and the dead man. "We've found a good friend +there, Mistress Waynflete. Now we'll put the hat and coat as we found +them, save for the guineas, and go back to the cottage for your domino." + +She gave them to me, and stepped out briskly towards the cottage. I +folded up the coat, put the hat on it, looked again at the still, stiff +horror in the road, soaking in its own blood, and silently followed her. + + + +CHAPTER X + +SULTAN + + +The lie of the land was as follows: To get to the "Ring of Bells," Master +Freake would have to ride over the hill to the main road at Weston, thence +some six miles north-west to Stone, thence another six or seven miles +south-west to the inn. Mistress Waynflete and I had a stiff walk of about +nine miles in front of us. For the first three miles our way ran east by +north, and then bent almost due east to the ale-house. Our difficulty +would come at the bending point, for there we should have to cross the +main road from Stafford along which the troops would be filtering north to +get into touch with the Prince and his Highlanders. If the Duke had heard +of the supposed intention of the Jacobites to turn off for Wales, he +would, I imagined, send a scouting party through Eccleshall to look out +for them, and we should, for the second time in our journey, be on +dangerous ground in the neighbourhood of that village. The "Ring of +Bells," however, lay north of that village, off his obvious line of march +in that direction, so that we stood a good chance of passing unchecked to +our goal, provided that we got across the main road north in safety. +Fortunately, at the place where I intended to cross, it climbed over a +fairly steep hill, and we could, if need were, lie and watch the road till +it was safe to venture out. + +It was ticklish work at the best and any break in our run of luck might +ruin us. How ticklish was vividly brought home to me within a few minutes +of our getting safe under cover in the cottage. I had, of course, brought +back the birding-piece and, after once more helping in the blissful task +of getting Mistress Waynflete into the domino, bungling as usual over +arranging the hood because my fingers lost control of themselves at the +touch of her hair, I sat down to reload it, intending to carry it with me. +I had settled matters with the absent gaffer, Doley, by putting one of my +guineas conspicuously on the table, and was just finishing my task when +Mistress Waynflete, who had stepped to the rear window and was looking +back on the scene of my recent exploit, suddenly called out, "Oliver! Come +here!" + +My heart leaped within me at that 'Oliver.' True, it was the familiarity +of one born to command, one who had last night icily desired my services +in the morning, and, womanlike, knew that she could queen it over me as +she listed, but still, and this was the main thing, it was familiar and +friendly, and seemed to lift me a shade nearer to her. + +"What is it, madam?" I asked respectfully, and ran toward her, but not so +swiftly that I had not time to see the blue eyes fixed hard on mine. For +answer, she turned and pointed down the hill, and there I saw the patch of +brown road covered with wagons and soldiers. In five minutes they would +come across the dead body of the Major. + +"Good," said I indifferently, "they save me a guinea," and I put the coin +back in my pocket. The soldiers didn't matter, but that look in her eyes +did. + +"Isn't that rather mean?" For some reason she spoke quite snappily. The +soldiers clearly didn't matter to her, and something else did. + +"Which of the soldiers provided our breakfast, madam? We might as well +leave a note asking them to pick us up at the 'Ring of Bells.' And, madam, +you can trust me to make Dick Doley content enough some day." + +She smiled, with her characteristic touch of chagrin. I liked her best +so, for she never looked daintier. "With a bit of luck, Master Wheatman," +she said whimsically, "there will surely come a time when you'll be wrong +and I right. Then, sir, look out for crowing. I've never been so unlucky +with a man in my life. But you'll slip some day!" + +"Surely, madam," I said, and smiled, "and then I'll abide your gloating. +Now, pray you, let us be off. We've hardly a minute to spare." + +Without losing another second we started on our long walk. It was now +about ten of the clock. The sun was shining cheerily, with power enough to +melt the white rime off every blackened twig it lit upon, and it was still +so cold that sharp walking was a keen delight. + +"Eight miles and more of it, Mistress Waynflete. I hope you can stand the +pace and the distance." + +"I'm a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," she replied curtly. + +The vicar was right. "Oliver," he said to me one day, "what is the +difference between the Hebrew Bible and a woman?" + +"Sir," said I, gaping with astonishment, "I know not, but of a truth it +seems considerable." + +"It is, Oliver," replied the sweet old scholar. "Man can understand the +one in a dozen years, if he try, but the other not in a lifetime, strive +he as earnestly as he may." + +This fragment of my dear friend's talk came back to me now as we walked +in silence side by side. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her sweet +face set in earnest thinking, her rich lips compressed, her speaking eyes +fixed resolutely ahead. Not having to trouble about finding the road, and +there being no sign of anyone, either enemy or neutral, stirring on the +countryside, I let her go on thinking, and set myself the pleasant but +impossible task of accounting to myself for her mood. I went over all we +had said and done together that day, and at last, after perhaps half an +hour of unbroken silence, fell back on what seemed the only possible +explanation. She was thinking of her father. But why that suspicion of +asperity on her face? Was this explanation correct? + +The vicar was right. She suddenly slipped her hand round my arm, looking +at me with laughing lips and dancing eyes, and said, "Isn't it splendid to +be alive on a day like this?" + +"Yes, indeed it is," I replied, "but from your looks and your long +silence, I should hardly have judged that you were thinking so." + +"You have been taking stock of me, sir!" + +"Certainly I have been wondering why you were so silent, and looked +so ... grave." + +"Be honest and fear not, Master Wheatman. You were not going to say +'grave.'" + +"At the expense of many whippings from old Bloggs, I learned to be +precise in the use of words." + +"I know, hence you were not going to say 'grave.'" + +"You will allow me to choose my own words, madam." + +"Certainly, so long as you choose the right ones." + +She unhooked her hand, and we walked a minute or two without another +word, she frowning, and I fuming. Then she said wistfully, "Why did you +think I was cross?" + +"I feared I had offended you," said I hastily and innocently. + +She laughed long and merrily. "Old Bloggs taught you the silly rigmarole +you men call logic, but he didn't teach you woman's logic, that's plain. +Don't you see what I've made you do, Master Wheatman?" + +"Not yet, Mistress Waynflete." + +"Poof, slow-coach! I've made you admit that you were going to say 'cross' +but altered it, too late, to 'grave.'" + +"You outrun me with your nimble and practised wit," said I, smiling. + +"And when did you offend me, think you?" + +"I answered you rather roughly when you took me up about the guinea." + +"Oh, then? Not at all. You snibbed me, but I richly deserved it." + +Another silence. + +"Well?" she said. "Go on! I say I richly deserved it. Go on!" + +"Go on where?" I asked testily. "You're not expecting me to say you +didn't, are you?" + +"No, I'm not," she said, "but it was good practice trying to make you." +So saying, she slipped her hand under my arm again, and we stepped it out +together. + +The current of her thoughts now ran and glittered in the opposite +direction. She made me for the moment her intimate, lifting up the veil +over her past life, and giving me peeps and vistas of her wanderings and +experiences. She jested and gibed. She sang little snatches of song in +some foreign tongue. "You're sure you don't understand Italian?" she +demanded, stopping short half-way through a bar, and quizzing me with her +eyes, now blue as sapphires in the bright sunshine. + +"Not a word of it," said I. + +"A grave disadvantage," she said airily. "It's the only language one can +love in." And off she struck again. + +Now she sang something soothing and sad, with a wistful lilt in it that +died into a low wail. It needed no Italian to be understood, for it was +written in the language of human experience. A woman's heart throbbed in +the lilt and broke in the wail. + +This sweet interval of intimacy verging on friendship was ended by our +close approach to the main road. We had been travelling, heedless of roads +and tracks, across a champaign country, and the slope up to the top of +Yarlet Bank now lay before us. I led the way, skulking behind such poor +cover as the gaunt hedgerows provided, and, when only a hundred paces from +the top, I asked her to crouch down, awaiting my signal to advance, while +I crept forward on my hands and knees to the edge of the road which here +climbed the brow of the hill through a deep cutting, along either margin +of which ran a straggling hedge. + +To my relief, the road down the hill, both to right and left, was +completely deserted. I joyfully waved my arm to Mistress Waynflete, who +was soon by my side, looking down the road. To the right we could see for +nearly a mile. On the left our view was cut short by a bend, and I walked +a score of yards in that direction and shinned up a stout sapling. Our +luck was absolute. Not a soldier, not a living soul, was in sight. + +"We might have had to skulk here for hours, waiting for an opportunity to +cross unseen," said I, on rejoining her, "but our gods above are +victorious, and we share their victory. So now for the 'Ring of Bells.' +There's a gate at the bottom of the hill. Come along, Mistress Waynflete!" + +She followed me down the hedge-side. I turned once or twice to look at +her, carefully pretending that it was only to see how she was getting on. +The last time I thus stole another memory of her splendid presence we were +only a few paces from the gate, and when my reluctant eyes turned again to +their rightful work, they looked straight into a pair of fishy eyes set in +a face as blank and ugly as a bladder of lard. + +Face and eyes belonged to a big, sleek, sly man, perched on the top bar +of the gate. He had a notebook in his hand in which he had been entering +some jottings. He suspended his writing to examine us, picking his nasty, +yellow teeth meanwhile with the point of his pencil. His horse was hitched +to the post on the Stoneward side of the gate, where the stile was. He was +well enough dressed, and, as far as I could see, unarmed. + +It was a most exasperating thing to have pitched into him, whoever and +whatever he was, and indeed I much disliked the look of him, and would +gladly have knocked him on the head. True, travellers were not rare on +this road, since it was part of the great highway from London to Chester, +and the little thoroughfare town of Stone, some three miles ahead, had a +noted posthouse. However, I kept, or tried to keep, my feelings out of my +face and voice, and accosted him cheerily. + +"Good day, friend! What may be the price of fat beeves in Stafford market +to-day?" + +"Dearer than men's heads will be at the town gates after the next +assizes," he replied, stroking his notebook and grinning evilly. + +"You'll never light on a Scotsman, dead or alive, that's worth as much as +a Staffordshire heifer," said I, leading the way past him to the stile, +over which I handed Mistress Margaret into the road. + +"They won't all be Scotsmen, my friend," he replied, still stroking his +notebook. + +"No?" said I, eager at heart to knock him off his perch. + +"Nor men," he added, leering at Margaret. + +"Come along, Sal," said I to her laughingly, "before the good gentleman +jots you down a Jacobite." + +So we left him, and when, fifty paces down the road, I looked back at +him, he was jotting in his notebook again. + +"I think he knows something about us," said I. + +"Very likely," she replied calmly. "I've seen him once before in London, +talking to Major Tixall. Who could forget a face like that?" + +"He's uglier than the big-mouthed dragoon." + +"The dragoon was at any rate a soldier." + +"And the worst of soldiers has, no doubt, some savour of grace in him." + +"Quite so," she retorted. "His calling makes it necessary." + +"And, so reasoning, you would say, I suppose, that the best of farmers +was to seek in the higher reaches of manliness." + +"Have I not told you, Master Oliver, that between man's logic and woman's +logic there's a great gulf fixed?" + +"Minds are minds," said I. + +"And hearts are hearts," replied she, and so shut me up to my thinking +again. + +We turned into a cart-track on our left leading in the direction of +Eccleshall. As we turned I saw that Bladder-face had mounted his horse and +was coming on toward Stone. There was no doubt that we should be pursued +from that quarter before long, and I grew heavy with anxiety as I saw how +hardly we were being pressed. The encounter had not, however, disturbed +Mistress Waynflete. On the contrary, she became gayer than ever, so gay +that, fool-like, I got quite vexed at it, for it was clear that something +had relieved her anxiety, and I knew it was nothing that I had done. I +worried over it, and at last hit on the explanation. She was rejoicing in +the help of the new partner. + +"What do you make of Master Freake?" said I boorishly, cutting short a +lightsome trill, more Italian maybe. + +"Make of what?" said she lightly. + +"Master Freake." + +"Forgive me, Master Wheatman," she replied, "but I didn't take you as +quickly as I ought to have done. I like the look of him. How pretty, pluck +them for me." + +I stopped to gather the spray of brilliant vermilion berries she fancied, +saying meanwhile, "I wonder what he is? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, +or what?" + +She seemed much more concerned with her berries, which she praised +rapturously, and placed carefully in the bosom of her riding-dress before +replying. + +"He's no doubt a grave and prosperous citizen of London. I've seen many +such, and he looks sworn brother to worthy Alderman Heathcoat. Moreover, +he talks merchantlike." + +It seemed pretty certain that she had hit the right nail on the head. Her +explanation fitted his account of the large sums he was carrying and his +stay with and hold over Jack's father. True, Staffordshire seemed the +wrong place for such a man. Both he and his money would have been far +safer in Change Alley. If her explanation was acute and probable, her +manner of making it had convinced me that my explanation of her gaiety was +wrong. Of him she certainly had not been thinking. Then there was only one +thing left to account for it. What makes a maid as merry as a grig? Didn't +our Kate sing all morning when Jack was coming in the afternoon? + +It was no concern of mine, and as a man sometimes makes his right hand +play his left hand at chess, so I now made stern Oliver lecture paltering +Wheatman, but without doing him much good. Naturally all this made me a +poor companion on the road, and for a long time Mistress Waynflete bore +with me patiently. Then she turned from her tra-la-la-ing to waken me up, +roundly declaring that I was bored with her company; and I had no defence, +ridiculous as the charge was. + +"I've sung every song I know, and sung them my best, too, and you've +never once praised me. You'll have to learn, you know, Master Oliver, to +smile at a lady even when you really want to smack her. What do you do? +You just write on your face as plainly as this"--and here her dainty +finger toured her face, ending up where the tear of milk had +trembled--"S-M-A-C-K." I roared aloud, she did it so frankly and mirthfully. What +a treasury of moods she was! She had stepped across our house-place like a +queen, she had fronted that devil, Brocton, like a goddess, and now she +was larking like a schoolmaid. + +Long as the way was, we seemed to me to be getting over the ground too +rapidly. Mistress Waynflete did not tire, and did full credit to her +father's soldiership. We circled round the red-tiled roofs of Eccleshall, +and at length took shelter in the pines that ringed the great pool. Across +the mere lay the road, and on the far side of the road from us was the +"Ring of Bells," standing well back, with a little green in front, in the +centre of which a huge post carried a board bearing the rudely painted +sign of the ale-house. + +I scouted ahead, dodging from tree to tree along the edge of the mere, in +order to keep out of view of anyone moving on the road. Over against the +ale-house I crept still more warily through the wood to the edge of the +road. There was no one moving in or about the ramshackle little place, but +there was one unexpected thing in sight which gave me pause. Hitched by +the reins to a staple in the signpost was the finest horse I had ever set +eyes on, a slender, sinewy stallion, champing on his bit and pawing +nervously on the stone-hard ground. + +Here was the shadow of a new trouble, though, indeed, there was nothing +to be surprised at, seeing that the countryside far and near was buzzing +with enemy activities. A rat in a barn might as justly complain of being +tickled by straws as I of jostling into difficulties. The horse without +betokened a rider within, and probably some one in the Duke's horse. I +beckoned Mistress Waynflete, and by signs indicated that extreme caution +was necessary. During the moments I was awaiting her I examined the +birding-piece to make sure it was in order. Caution, however, she flung to +the winds, for the moment she set eyes on the horse she joyously shouted +'Sultan' and made a wild, happy dash to cross the road. + +I stopped her sternly, and in a brief whisper asked, "Who's Sultan?" + +"Father's horse." + +"We do not know for sure that your father is in the inn because his horse +is outside, and by your leave, madam, we'll make sure first. Keep right +behind yon thick tree, and await my return." + +She looked calmly at me, but even before she could glide off, there came +from the ale-house an appalling volley of oaths and curses. It was a man's +voice, yelling in agonized blasphemy, and a woman's shrill treble floated +on the surface of the stream of virulence. + +I caught Mistress Waynflete's wrist and steadied her. "Not your father, +apparently?" I said in a cool voice, though my head was whirling a bit +under the strain. "Here," I went on, fetching a fistful out of my pocket, +"are some guineas. Follow me, unhitch the horse, and if I shout to you to +be off, mount him from yon horse-trough, and away like lightning. That's +the road to Eccleshall, along which Master Freake is bound to come." + +I thrust the guineas into her hand, gripped my weapon, slipped out of the +pines and across the road, circled the horse, and made to peep round the +jamb of the open door into the guest-room of the ale-house. As I did so, +the man yelled, "God damn, I'm on fire!" and the woman shrieked back, +"Burn, you foul devil, burn, and be damned!" + +This was enough, and I burst in on a spectacle, strange, serious, on the +point of becoming terrible, and yet almost laughable. In the middle of the +room, a stout, shock-headed, red-elbowed woman stood, a pikel in her +strong outstretched hands. The sergeant of dragoons, with his back to a +roaring fire, was pinned against the hearthstead by the pitchfork, the +tines of which were stuck in the oak lintel of the chimney-piece, so that +a ring of steel encircled his throat like the neckhole of a pillory, and +held him there helpless and roasting. When I first caught sight of him he +was making a frenzied attempt to wrench the prongs out, but, finding it +hopeless, drew his tuck, and lashed out at the woman. She calmly shifted +out of reach along the handle of the fork. He then hacked fiercely but +without much effect on the wooden handle, and finally, in his despair and +agony, poised the tuck and cast it at her javelin-fashion. The woman, +cooler than he in both senses of the term, dodged it easily. How she had +contrived to pin him in such a helpless manner, I could not imagine. The +motive was obvious. A little girl lay writhing and sobbing on the floor +amid the fragments of a broken mug and a scattering of copper and silver +coins. + +"You've got him safe enough, mother," said I, "and it's no good cooking +him since you can't eat him." + +"Be yow another stinking robber, like this'n?" she demanded. The epithet +was as apt as it was vigorous, for the stink of singeing cloth made me +sniff. "If y'be," she went on, "I'll shove' im in the fire and set about +yow." + +"Not a bit of it, mother. I've come to help you, but shift him along a +bit out of the heat, and then we'll settle what to do with him." To him I +added, "Understand, sergeant, any attempt to fight or fly, and your neck +will be wrung like a cockerel's." Then laying down my gun I pulled out the +tines and shifted him along the lintel till he was out of danger. The +woman, whose fierce determination never faltered, jammed the pikel in +again and kept him trapped. + +I went to the door and saw Mistress Waynflete standing by Sultan's head, +and the proud beauty arching his neck in his joy at finding his mistress +near him. I beckoned her. + +"An old acquaintance, in a fix. Come in!" said I, and introduced her to +the strange scene. "The sergeant, madam," I went on, "and he has been +plucked like a brand from the burning." She took in the scene, judged what +had happened, and then gathered up the child, who had ceased crying out of +curiosity, and mothered the little one so sweetly that the red-elbowed +woman cried out hearty thanks. + +In brief the story, as collected later from the mother and child, was +that the sergeant had ridden up and asked for a meal. After he had had +some bread and cheese and ale, he had taken advantage of the alewife's +absence to ask the child where mother kept her money, and, receiving no +answer, had twisted the poor little one's arm until in her terror and +agony she had told him of the secret hole in the chimney where the money +was kept in a coarse brown mug. The child's cry had brought the mother +running back with the pikel, snatched up on the way, and she, taking him +at unawares with the mug in his hand, had darted at him and luckily caught +him round the neck, and pinned him against the fireplace as I had found +him. Let him go she dared not, for she was alone except for the child, and +but for my arrival he would have roasted right enough till he was +helpless. As it was the skirts of his coat were smouldering, and he had +only just escaped serious injury. In fact, although smarting sore, he was +so little damaged that after tearing away the burnt tails, he collected +himself and tried to bam me. + +"Master Wheatman," he began, "I call upon you in the King's name to aid +and assist me. This woman's tale is all a lie. The mug was on the +chimney-top for anyone to see, and I only took it down to examine it, +being struck with its appearance." + +"Also in the King's name, Master Sergeant," was my reply, "I propose to +have you handed over to the nearest justice as a rogue and vagabond." + +"And you shall explain why you are here with your--" I should have +strangled him if his foul tongue had wagged one word of insult, and he saw +it in my eyes. He stopped, and his face showed that he had discovered the +secret. + +"The sergeant recognizes you again, Molly," said I lightly. + +"Bammed and beaten by a damned yokel?" he burst out. "Ten thousand +devils! Where were my eyes yesterday?" In his anger he began to strain at +his steel cravat. + +"Virgil for ever! The first town we come to I'll buy me a Latin grammar," +said Margaret to me, with a low ripple of laughter. + +"How'd on, fool," said the alewife to the sergeant. "Yow wunna be wuth +hangin' if y' carry on a this'n." + +"If you don't loose me, you old bitch," he shouted, "I'll see you hanged! +Loose me, for your neck's sake! These people are Jacobites!" + +"Gom, I dunna know what that be, but I wish Stafford-sheer was full on +'em. 'Tinna any good chokin' y'rsen, I shanna let go." + +This method of keeping him, however, rendered the alewife useless, so I +took her place, and bade her fetch the longest and toughest rope she'd +got. She brought me a beauty and with it I trussed the sergeant, tying him +securely into a heavy, clumsy chair, and leaving him as helpless as a fowl +ready for roasting. Then a thought struck me and I went through his +pockets. His very stillness made me careful in my search, but I found only +some old bills for fodder and other military papers, and a heavily sealed +letter addressed "To HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS." I was not quite Jacobite enough +to make me willing to steal a dispatch addressed to the Royal Duke, and I +should have thrust it and the oddments of paper back again but for the +rattle of hoofs outside. It was probably Master Freake, and I was +particularly anxious that the sergeant should not see him, so I rushed out +with all the papers in my hand to forestall him. + +Hurrying outside I saw Master Freake hitching his horse to the signpost, +and Mistress Waynflete already talking to him eagerly. When I got up he +delivered his news briefly and to the point, and bad news it was. + +He had learned in Stone that the Colonel had again been taken on ahead +towards Newcastle in charge of a troop of Brocton's dragoons under the +command of Captain Rigby, "last night's table companion of the dead +Major," he explained. + +"Whatever for?" asked Mistress Waynflete. + +Master Freake said nothing, but his eyes were troubled, and I knew there +was something he would fain conceal. + +"Whatever for?" she repeated. "Could you learn of no reason?" + +"I was told," he answered slowly, "that Colonel Waynflete's knowledge and +assistance would be invaluable to the royal troops." + +"Told that my father had turned traitor! Is that what you mean, sir?" +Scorn too great for anger covered her face, veiling its sweetness as with +a fiery cloud. + +"That is the plain English of what I was told, I must admit." Here was +the grave, businesslike nature of the man, plainly posing awkward +questions that had to be answered. + +"It's a wicked lie!" she burst out. She turned her face proudly to look +into mine, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears. + +"Naturally, madam," said I. + +"My father's honour is mine, Master Wheatman, and I am your debtor for +another splendid courtesy." + +"I argue from the flower to the tree. Man's logic, and therefore +necessarily imperfect, you would say, but for once I stick to it." I spoke +lightly and reminiscently, so as to chase the gloom from her mind, and she +was immediately herself again. + +Master Freake continued his story, which went from bad to worse. As I had +expected, Bladderface had ridden into Stone, and the result of his +communication to Captain Rigby had been that orders were issued for our +pursuit, and Master Freake had left the town not very far in advance of +the squad of horse sent on our track. He had thus been unable to procure +horses for us, but at Eccleshall he had managed to obtain a pillion for +Margaret's use behind him. + +This was awkward indeed, for though Master Freake had ridden hard, the +pursuit could not be very far behind, and if, as was almost certain, the +dragoons turned up at the "Ring of Bells," the sergeant would be set free, +and be after us like a mad bull. There was, however, a margin of time +available, and therefore I put this problem out of my mind, and attended +only to the urgent one of the Colonel's position. + +To me there was only one explanation possible. This continual shifting of +the Colonel, ever under the charge of those rascally dragoons, commanded +now by a man whose familiarity with Tixall was an evil augury, meant one +thing only. Soon, perhaps within an hour or two, there would be fighting, +and under cover of that a stab in the back or a bullet in the head would +clear the Colonel out of Brocton's path for ever. + +"Take these papers, Master Freake," said I. "Mistress Waynflete will tell +you what has happened here, and you can give them back to their owner if +you choose. But do not, I beg you, on any account let the rascal inside +see or hear you." + +I raced indoors, seized the sergeant's tuck and took his baldrick from +him, heedless of his vile threats. I left him there, choking with +foulness, unhitched Sultan, sprang into the saddle, and cantered up to my +friends. + +"Now, Mistress Margaret," I said, "describe your father so that I shall +know him when I see him." + +She sketched his portrait in broad, clear outlines, and I fixed the +description point by point in my memory. + +"That's the road to Newcastle," said I, pointing along the edge of the +mere, "and it's fairly straight and good. Follow me there as quickly as +you can, and inquire for me at the 'Rising Sun.' I'll have news of the +Colonel, if not the Colonel himself, when we meet again." + +I bowed to Margaret, dug my heels into Sultan, and was off like a flash. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN WHICH I SLIP + + +Sultan was a horse for a man, long and regular in his stride, perfect in +action, quick to obey, cat-like at need. I might have ridden him from the +day on which the blacksmith drank his colt-ale, for we understood each +other exactly, and I was as comfortable on his back as in my bed at the +Hanyards. In the open road at the mere-end, he settled down into a steady, +loping trot, and I was free to think matters out to the music of his +hoof-beats on the road. + +It was only eight or nine miles into Newcastle, and as the dragoons would +travel slowly and warily there was just a chance that I should be there +first. Further, it was wholly unlikely that I should be interfered with, +since the only two enemies who knew I was aiding Mistress Margaret were +helpless in my rear--Brocton at Stafford, and the sergeant in the "Ring of +Bells." I was unknown in the town, not having been there since my +schooldays, and then only on rare occasions, as a visit to the town meant +a thirty-mile walk in one day. + +Plan-making was futile. Everything would depend upon chance, but if +chance threw me into touch with the Colonel, it should go hard if I did +not free him somehow or other. The most splendid thing would be if I could +free him before Margaret overtook me at the "Rising Sun." True, I had only +an hour or so to spare, but now strange things happened in an hour of my +life, and this great luck might be mine. Then would come my rich and rare +reward--the light in her deep, blue eyes and the tremulous thanks on her +ripe, red lips. + +And then a thought smote me like a blow between the eyes, so that I +dizzied a moment, and the day grew grey and the outlook blank. The finding +of the Colonel meant the losing of Margaret. Father and daughter reunited, +my work would be done; the day of the hireling would be accomplished. Need +for me there would be none. The old life would again claim me, justly +claim me too, for was I not, though all unworthily and unprofitably, the +only son of my sweet mother, and she a widow. I could see her in the +house-place at the Hanyards, her calm eyes fixed in sorrow on my empty +chair. _A man shall leave father and mother_, yes, for one particular +cause, but the only son of a widowed mother for no cause whatsoever. +Christ, I said to myself, would not have raised the young man of Nain +merely to get married. + +Still there was the work, and I spurned my gloomy thoughts and turned to +think of it. And first I took stock of my means of offence. There were +loaded pistols in the holsters, fine long weapons with polished walnut +stocks inlaid with silver lacery and the initials 'C.W.', the Colonel's +without a doubt. At the saddle-bow there hung a sizeable leathern pouch, +and this I found to contain a good supply of charges. I was a sure shot, +and I tried my skill on a gate as Sultan flew by, splintering the latch at +which I aimed to a nicety, the well-trained horse taking no more notice of +the shot than of a wink at a passing market-wench. So far so good. Then +there was the sergeant's tuck, and I shouted with a schoolboy's glee at +having for the first time in my life a sword at my side. Of how to use it +I knew nothing, unless many bouts at single-stick with Jack should be some +sort of apprenticeship in swordcraft. I practised pulling it out, and +then, imitating Brocton, made the forty-inch blade twist and tang in the +air, which pleased me greatly. I felt quite a Cavalier now, and said +within myself that old Smite-and-spare-not's bones should soon be rustling +in their grave with envy. + +And so into Meece, wondering if the fat host of the "Black Bull" would +recognize in the splendidly mounted horseman the dusty schoolboy of ten +years ago. There he was in the porch, grown intolerably fatter, talking to +my ancient gossip, Rupert Toms, the sexton, now heavily laden with years +and infirmities. I pricked on, having no time to spare for either prayer +or provender, since every moment was precious, though a tankard of double +October, mulled with spice and laced with brandy, would have been precious +too, for the matter of that. + +At the tail of the village, where the curve of the road runs into the +straight again to climb the long hill, I came for a moment into touch with +my affair. A horseman was in sight, rattling down the slope, and I saw +that he was an officer, a keen-featured, middle-aged man, with the set +face of one who rides on urgent business. Yet he checked his horse when +near me, and cried curtly, "What news from Stafford?" + +A word with him might be worth while, so I too pulled up and answered +very politely, "It's market-day." + +"Damn the market! What news of the troops, sir? Is my Lord Brocton still +there?" + +"I believe he is." + +"Then damn my Lord Brocton! Did you chance to see him?" + +"I had that honour late last night." + +"Anything the matter with him?" + +"He'd had enough," said I simply. + +"That's what comes of shoving sprigs of your bottle-sucking nobility into +the service. Damn his nobility! There's another of them back yonder, as +much use as an old tup." + +"If I detain you much longer," said I, with exaggerated sweetness, +"you'll be damning me." + +"Nothing likelier. I damn everything and everybody that don't suit me. +That's why I'm captain at fifty instead of colonel at thirty. What of it?" + +"Lord Brocton's nine miles off, and I'm not." + +"Think I care? Damn you, too, and I'll fight you when we meet again. Like +a lark! Wish I'd time now. Good day, sir!" + +He dug the rowels into his horse and was off. An earnest, choleric man +with his heart in his work, for which I liked him, even to his persistent +damning. + +I put Sultan to the slope and he kept bravely at it till I eased him off +where the rise was steepest. My late encounter clearly meant that affairs +were ripening fast farther north, and it might also mean danger behind me +sooner than I had looked for. The blood danced in my veins at the prospect +of the adventures that awaited me. Ho, for life and work! Would it be long +before the blue eyes lanced me through and through again, as when I kissed +her hand among the trees by the roadside? I looked at the frosty sun and +judged that it was nigh on twenty-four hours since I had stood in the +porch and watched mother and Kate across the cobbles into the +road--twenty-four hours that had done more for me than the twenty-four years +that had gone before them, for they had given me a man's task, a man's +thoughts, the stirrings of a man's being, the beginning of a man's agony. + +We were at the top now with the open country stretching for miles around +us. But the dale beneath, through which the main road ran a mile away to +the east, was thick with trees, and I could get no inkling of how things +were going. I strained my ears to listen, but no warning sound could I +hear. The countryside was still and calm as a frozen sea, and war and its +terrors seemed so impossible that for a moment I felt as if it was only a +dream-life that I was living and that I must wake soon and hear Joe Braggs +trolling out his morning song in honour of Jane. But Sultan craned round +his shapely head as if to ask me why I was loitering in the cold, bleak +air; so with a cheery slap on his glossy neck, I gave him the reins and +away he went, with me spitting ghostly Broctons on the sergeant's tuck. +Through the skirts of the woodland he carried me, and then up again till +on the top of Clayton Bank I pulled him up a second time for another +survey of the situation. + +The little town was now in full view a mile ahead, lying on the slope and +top of some rising ground. Across the meadows to my right, and now plainly +to be seen less than half a mile away, was the main road from Stone. Again +I was disappointed. A long, rude post-wagon, pulled by eight horses and +driven by a man on an active little nag, was groaning its way south; a +solitary horseman was ambling north--and that was all I could see. + +What had happened to the Colonel? Were the dragoons in the town or not? I +dug my heels into Sultan's flanks and put him to it at his best, and in a +few minutes was on the outskirts of the town. + +The town consists in the main of two streets. The High Street is simply +the town part of the main road from the south and Stone to Congleton and +the north--the line along which the Stuart Prince was marching. It +deserves its name, for it lies along the edge of the slope on which the +town lies. Parallel to it in the dip lies Lower Street, and the road I was +on curls past the end of this street and climbs gently to join the upper +road. I could thus get into the heart of the town through the poorer +quarter of it, and soon the kidney-stones of Lower Street rang under +Sultan's hoofs. + +The stir and noise of Stafford was completely absent. The townspeople, +mainly hatters by trade, were plying their craft indoors as if no enemy +were at their gate. In fact, as I learned afterwards, there was no fuss +and much fun and good business when the Highlanders actually came on the +scene. The farther a town was from them the more it funked them, which +was, as everybody knows now, truest of all of London. As I turned up the +lane by St. Giles', the church bells chimed two. Past the church in the +corner between the lane and the High Street was the "Rising Sun." Once +Sultan was safe in its stables I could set about getting news of the +Colonel before Margaret and Master Freake arrived. + +It was stiff work up the last thirty yards, and Sultan shook himself +together after it when he drew out on the level High Street. Here were +throngs of people and some signs of trouble toward. In particular I +noticed the town fathers in their black gowns of office, and, most +conspicuous of all, the crimson and fur of his worship. I judged they were +coming from a council meeting in the town hall, which stood in the middle +of the wide High Street. There was much high debate, wagging of fingers +and smiting of fist in palm, but no approach to the tumult and terror of +yesternight. The Mayor stood for a moment confabbing at the door of a +grocery, and then shot into it. I saw him struggling out of his gown as he +disappeared, and thence inferred that the chief burgess was a grocer in +private life. + +So much I saw before pulling Sultan round to pass under the archway +leading into the yard of the "Rising Sun." I dismounted and called for an +ostler. No man appearing, I was about to lead Sultan farther down the yard +towards the stables when there was a scurry of feet behind me as if the +whole ostler-tribe of the "Rising Sun" was hastening to my assistance. I +turned round rattily to find myself looking into the barrel of a pistol, +while three or four men pounced on me and pinned me against the wall. + +"Damn ye, horse-thief, for the black of a bean I'd blow your brains out," +said Colonel Waynflete. "Stick tight, lads; and you, good host, fetch +along Master Mayor and the constable, and have me the scoundrel laid by +the heels. If this were only my commandery on the Rhine! I'd strappado you +and then hang you within the next half-hour. My bonny Sultan! How are you, +my precious?" + +When a raw youth leaves farming for knight-erranting he must expect sharp +turns and rough tumbles, but surely Fate and Fortune were overdoing it +now. It was the Colonel beyond doubt, and Margaret had limned him to the +life. The hawk-eyes, the hook nose, the leathery skin, the orange-tawny +campaign-wig with the grizzled hair peeping under the rim of it, the tall, +thin, supple figure, all were there. And if I had been in any doubt of it, +Sultan would have settled the matter, for his pleasure at finding his +master was delightful to witness. + +In hot blood I did not mind a pistol, and in the coldest blood I could +easily have kicked loose from the men who had got hold of me. But Margaret +kept my limbs idle and my mouth shut. There was no real danger, for that +matter, unless Margaret and Master Freake failed to turn up at the "Rising +Sun," and there was no reason to suppose they would fail. The Colonel gave +me no chance to speak to him privately, and to speak to him publicly might +upset his plans. How he had got here a free man, what strange turn things +had taken in his favour, I could not imagine. Margaret would be here in an +hour and put matters right, so for her sake it would be best and easiest +to say nothing. I simply made up my mind that the varlet on my right, +whose dirty claws and beery breath were sickening me, should have the +direst of drubbings before the day was out. + +Mine host bustled off for the Mayor, and, the news having gone around, +the yard was filled with people watching the fun and making a +mocking-stock of me. The Colonel saw Sultan off to be groomed and baited, +and then, without so much as a look at me, went into the inn and sat down +to his interrupted meal. I could see him plainly through the window, and +hugely admired his coolness. The maids clustered around to have a peep at +me. Such as were old and ugly declared off-hand that I was indisputably +ripe for the gallows, but a younger one with saucy eyes and cherry-red +cheeks blew a kiss, and called out to beery breath to deal gentlier with +me. He moved a little in turning to grin at her, and I shot my knee into +his wind and doubled him up on the ground. A stouter lad took his place, +but his breath was sweet and I gained much in comfort by the change. + +The situation had the saving grace of humour. For twenty-four hours I had +been on the stretch to save Colonel Waynflete from his enemies. To do it I +had left mother and sister, and home and lands. To do it I had come out +openly on the side of rebellion and treason. The sword had been at my +breast, and the wind of a bullet had stirred the hair of my head. I might +have spared my pains. All this pother of mine was over the man sitting +yonder, heartily enjoying his dinner. All my heroics had ended in my being +arrested as a horse-thief. + +I closed my eyes. Picture after picture came before me of Margaret in her +changing moods and her unchanging beauty. Gad! How cheaply I had bought +this gallery of precious memories! + +A throng of lads crowding noisily under the archway heralded the approach +of the dignitaries. First came the town beadle, a pompous little fellow +who wore a laced brown greatcoat many sizes too large for him, and carried +a cudgel of office thick as his own arm, and surmounted by a brass crown +the size of a baby's head. His office enabled him to be brave on the +cheap, so by dint of digging his weapon into the ribs of all and sundry, +they being, as he expressed it, too thick on the clod, he cleared a path +for the grocer-mayor, who had gotten himself again into his scarlet gown. +His worship was gawky, flustered, and uncertain, and listened like a +scared rabbit to mine host, a man of much talk, who explained proudly what +was to be done. + +"This is 'im, y'r worship," he said. "A dirty 'oss-thief as badly wants +'anging. Copped in the act, y'r worship, of riding into this 'ere yard o' +mine, as big as bull-beef, sitting on the very 'oss 'e'd stolen from his +lordship 'ere." + +His lordship was the Colonel, who had leisurely left his meal again to +settle my hash. I can see him now as he stood on the step of the inn-door, +carefully flicking a stray crumb or two from his waistcoat, and taking the +measure of the man he had to bamboozle, with clear, amused, grey eyes. + +"The Mayor of the town, I think," he said softly. + +"Yes, your honour," said the good man surreptitiously wiping something, +probably sugar, off his hands on the lining of his gown. + +"And his beadle, your lordship," added the host, and the under-strapper +inside the greatcoat saluted the Colonel with a flourish of his tipstaff. + +"I am Colonel Waynflete," he answered in level measured tones, "riding on +important business of His Majesty's, and my horse was stolen at an inn, +some miles back, beyond Stafford. But for the kindness of my Lord Brocton +in providing me with another, His Gracious Majesty's affairs would have +been badly disarranged. This fellow came riding in on my horse, Sultan, a +few minutes ago and I ordered his arrest. He is now in your worship's +hands. I leave him there with confidence, merely remarking, on the warrant +of many years' observation in such matters, that he will require a stout +rope." + +He nodded to his dithering worship, and marched back slowly and calmly to +his dinner. + +"This beats cock-fighting," said mine host admiringly. He spread himself, +happy and conspicuous as a tom-tit on a round of beef, and the crowd, +pleasantly anticipating mugs of beer later on, urged the Mayor to be up +and doing. + +"What have you to say for yourself?" said his grocer-ship to me, with a +dim and belated idea, perhaps, that I might be interested in the +proceedings. + +"The beadle's coat is much too large for him," said I. + +"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "Samson Salt was a big man and had only +had the coat three years when he died, and we couldn't afford a new one +for Timothy. Dear me, but this isn't a council meeting, and what's the +beadle's coat got to do with horse-stealing?" + +"As much as I have," I replied gravely. + +"Yow've 'ad enough, my lad," said the host, "to last y'r the rest of y'r +life. The next 'oss you rides'll be foaled of an acorn. Let Timothy put +him in clink, Master Mayor, and come and have a noggin of the real thing. +Gom, I'm that dry my belly'll be thinking my throat's cut." + +"Arrest this man, Timothy Tomkins, and put him in jail till I can take +due order for his trial." + +Timothy turned up the sleeves of his coat, and arrested me by placing his +hand on my arm, and flourishing the brass crown in my face. + +"Don't hurt me, Timothy," I said. "I'll come like a lamb, and I'll go +slow lest you should tumble over the tail of your coat." + +"If you say another word about the blasted coat I'll split your head +open," was his angry reply. It was evidently a sore topic with him and a +familiar one with his frugal townsmen, for some man in the crowd cried +out, "'Tinna big enough for the missis, be it, Timothy?" And while the +peppery little beadle's eyes were searching the japer out, another added, +"More's the pity, for 'er's a bit of a light-skirt." At this there was a +roar of laughter, so I saved the frenzied officer further trouble by +saying, "Come along, Timothy. Let's go to jail." + +On the Mayor's orders, mine host despoiled me of the sergeant's tuck, and +Timothy marched me off to the jail, the rabble following, as full of +chatter as a nest of magpies. The jail was a small stone building, +standing, like the town hall, in the middle of the street. Arrived there, +Timothy thrust me into an ill-lit dirty hole below the level of the +street, locked the door behind me, and left me to my reflections. + +The only furniture of the den was a rude bench. A nap would do me good, +so, after a good pull at Kate's precious cordial, I curled up on the bench +and in a few minutes was sound asleep. And in my sleep I dreamed that two +blue stars were twinkling at me through a golden cloud. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN" + + +A wisp of cloud, a long trail of shimmering gold, broke loose, swept with +the touch of softest silk across my cheek, and half awakened me. I was +lazily and sleepily regretting that such caresses only came in dreams, +when I was brought sharply back to full life by a ripple of hearty +laughter. + +"Gloat on!" said I complacently. + +"I knew you'd slip some time or other. Gloat! Of course I shall gloat." +And she laughed again. I should have borne it easily enough, coming from +her, under any circumstances, but there was one circumstance which made it +a pure joy. The white hands were busy with her unruly yellow hair, and I +was so far gone foolward that I was in some sort hopeful that they were +imprisoning the wisp of golden cloud that had awakened me. I bitterly +regretted that I was not as nimble at waking as Jack. He would be sleeping +like a leg of mutton one second and, at the touch of a feather, as wide +awake as a weasel the next. I took time--it was the Latin rubbish +cumbering my brain, he used to say--or I might have made sure. + +Mistress Margaret was perched on the edge of my bench. She seemed in no +hurry to move, and I could not get up till she did, so I lay still, +cradling my head in my hands, and looked contentedly at her. It was now so +gloomy that I had evidently been asleep some time. + +"I knew you'd slip," she repeated with great zest. "All men do. And I'm +glad you slipped, for it proved you human. I was getting quite overawed by +the terrible precision with which you did exactly the right thing at +exactly the right time. It made me feel so very small and inferior, and no +woman likes that. It's not nice." + +"Or natural," said I. + +"I see you're unmistakably awake, sir!" was the tart reply. She rose and +took short turns up and down the cell and went on: "But why slip into +jail, Master Wheatman? Why did you not tell father who you were and what +you had done for me?" + +"And so prove at once to the authorities in the town that he was not what +he pretended to be!" + +"Ho!" she said, and stopped short. + +"Our idea was, I think, to free the Colonel, if we could." + +"Yes." She was not gloating now, but wondering. + +"Well, madam, I found him free, and the only advantage I can see in your +plan is, that I should have had him as a companion in jail. Whereas now +I've mended my night's sleep with a refreshing nap, and Master Freake has +so lucidly explained things to the Mayor that Timothy of the long coat is +kicking his heels at the top of the stairs, and wondering how much longer +you're going to be. Shall we once more breathe the upper air, as Virgil +would put it? This hole is as bad as a corner in his under-world." + +"And I laughed at you for slipping, Master Wheatman! I shall never dare +to look you in the face again." + +"Don't you believe it, madam," said I airily, leading the way to the +steps. "I've heard Copper Nob say the same thing scores of times." + +"Who's Copper Nob?" + +The question came like the crack of a whip, and I was glad the familiar +phrase had slipped out unawares and diverted her. + +"Our Kate," I explained. + +"Oh indeed, sir! A more beautiful head of hair no woman in this land +possesses, and you glibly call her 'Copper Nob.' Doubtless you have +selected some nice expressive name for me!" + +"I shouldn't dare!" I protested hotly. + +"Why not? You do it for her, brazenly and wantonly." + +"Yes, madam, but she's my sister." + +"How does that assure me?" + +"A man's sister isn't a woman," said I, and went ahead and pushed open +the door. There, sure enough, was Timothy, looking very uncertain and +rueful. The little man's complaisance had given me the greatest wonder of +my life--Margaret's silent watching over me as I lay asleep, and I gave +him a guinea with much gladness. + +"The coat's too big for you, Timothy, and it's no good denying it. I'll +speak to his worship about a new one of the right length." + +"Thank yer, sir," he said, grinning oafishly as he pouched the guinea. +"I'd rather have a new coat than a new missus, and, swelp me bob, I want +both." + +Margaret joined me, and we at once made our way to the "Rising Sun." Work +for the day was over, and the street was now getting thronged and noisy. +Many curious looks were bent on us, but no one dared to interfere with a +man of my evil reputation, a horse-thief being the last thing in +desperadoes. We had only a few yards to go, but my mistress apprised me in +sweet whisperings that Master Freake's explanation was that Sultan had +been innocently obtained from the real thief, that I was his servant, and, +not knowing of the horse deal, had loyally kept silent lest I should make +mischief--a happy and reasonably truthful rendering of the real facts. + +"After his private talk with Master Mayor," she added, "that worthy man's +knees were as hard worked as the hinges of an ale-house door." + +"The poor cringeling is but a grocer," said I, as we turned in under the +archway of the "Rising Sun." The host saw us through the kitchen window, +and ran out to usher us in with the assurance of a brass weathercock. + +"Sommat like a jail delivery, eh, y'r 'onour? Gom, if I wudna pinch fifty +'osses to be fetched out o' clink by such a bonny lady, begging your +ladyship's pardon." + +"She shall fetch you out," said I sourly, "when you're jailed for not +stealing." + +"His honour's commands are a law unto his handmaiden," said Margaret +demurely and icily, addressing him, but aiming point-blank at me. Her shot +blew me clean out of the water, and I stood there guggling like a born +idiot. "Curse you, will you never get out of your yokel's ways?" said I to +myself. It was as if I had said to the sergeant, speaking of Jane, "She +shall draw you a mug of beer." I was clean nonplussed, and felt as +uncomfortable as a boiling crawfish, but fortunately rattle-pate came to +my aid and drowned my confusion in a flood of words. + +"And all he said, y'r ladyship, was that Timothy's coat was too big for +'im. Gom, it beat cock-fighting, it did. Swelp me bob it did. I never saw +a man so staggered as the Mayor, but he's got over it fine, and gone 'ome, +good man, with a crick in his back and near on a pint of my best brandy in +his belly. When these 'ere wild Highland rappers and renders come, he's +just primed up to make 'em a grand speech at bridge yonder, and if that +dunna frighten 'em off, nuthin' wull, and my cellars will be as ill filled +with beer as Timothy's coat is with brawn. I'm getting the best supper on +the Chester road for yer, y'r honour, and that'll mike you feel as bold as +sixpence among sixpenn'orth o' coppers. But come along, y'r ladyship. The +Colonel's upstairs. Follow me!" + +Words ran out of him like ale out of a stunned barrel. He clacked on +incessantly on the way upstairs, and clacked as boldly as ever as he +ushered us into the room, where the Colonel was awaiting us alone. + +"'Ere 'e is, y'r lordship," he said gustily. "'Ere's the nobby gentleman +as didna steal yer 'oss. But yow'd best keep yer eye on 'im, on my say so. +He'll pinch sommat o' yow'n yet afore 'e's done." + +The Colonel, who was toasting his toes at a roaring fire, rose as I +followed Margaret towards him. He made me a precise and formal bow, which +I imitated farmer fashion. "This is Master Oliver Wheatman of the +Hanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host, +lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could not +have heard her. + +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow. + +"The honour is mine, sir," I replied, repeating mine, and wondering the +while if I ever should learn to bend like a willow instead of a jointed +doll. + +"Nay, I protest, sir." This suavely to me; then, stepping sharply towards +the host, he stormed, "Damn ye, man, get on the landlord's side of the +door, or I'll rout it down around your lazy ears. Slids! I've shot an +innkepeer for less in the Rhineland." + +"Them 'ere furriners--" began the host, but the Colonel swamped him with +something of which I could make out nothing except that it was a fairly +successful attempt to talk and sneeze at the same time. It finished off +the host, who retired, beaten with his own weapon. The victor, waiting +till the door was closed, tiptoed up to it and listened carefully. + +"A rather interesting feature about dad," whispered Margaret with +mischief in her eyes, "is that when he's angry he curses in French, and +when he's mad he execrates in German." + +"Neatly rounding off his daughter's accomplishments," said I. + +"And how, sir?" + +"Who gibes in English and loves in Italian." + +She stabbed me with her eyes, and said, "Your services give you no +privileges, sir." + +"I know that, madam, but my yokelship does." + +I spoke lightly, keeping the bitterness of my heart out of my voice, +though it had surged up into my speech. I may have been mistaken, misled +by the flickering fire-light, but the anger seemed to melt out of her eyes. + +The return of the Colonel ended our cut-and-thrust. + +"Soldiering," he said, "is nine-tenths caution and one-tenth devilment. +Yon glavering idiot has long ears to match his long tongue. And now, sir, +let me greet you as I should." + +He seized my hand, shook it warmly, and continued, "A father's thanks, +Master Wheatman, for your kindness to my Margaret. Anon she shall tell me +the whole story, but I know already that you are a gallant gentleman whom +I shall have the honour of turning into a fine soldier, and neither angel, +man, nor devil could make you fairer requital." + +Praise and promise were far beyond any desert or hope of mine, but I said +boldly, "I am no gentleman, but just a plain, few-acred yeoman, who has +tried to serve your daughter--" + +"Tried?" he snorted. "Tried, indeed! I've been soldiering man and boy +these forty odd years, and, slids, I've never known better work." He ran +me up and down with his eyes and, turning to Margaret, continued, "By the +beard of the prophet, Madge, Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards is a +vast improvement on the Baron." + +Margaret blushed daintily and hastily covered his mouth with her fingers. + +"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night." + +"Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight. +"This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, the +prepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her was +at Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden." + +"Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting. + +"So it was," he said heartily, conceding the point. "Escorted by, or +escorting, I was never clear which, a fat German baron nearly five feet +high, who begged me to horsewhip her into marrying him." + +"You shot him?" said I, so very energetically that Margaret's pout turned +into a smile. + +"Dear me, no," he said, pretending to yawn. "I left him to Madge, poor +fellow! I hope you've given her every satisfaction, Master Wheatman." + +"That he hasn't," said Margaret briskly. "He's spent far too much time +putting me in what he considers my proper place." + +"My friend," said he to me gravely, "you're in for a dog's life." + +"You're right about the life, dad, but wrong about the dog. Good-bye till +supper, you nasty ripper-up of your daughter's character!" + +So saying, she kissed him on each cheek, smiled at me, and left us. + +"I'd like to sluice the jail feeling off myself," said I to the Colonel. + +"Right," he replied, looking at his watch. "You've just half an hour. I +find England irksomely restful and law-abiding after the Continent, but +I'm glad of it for once. I should be damnably vexed if I'd hanged you, and +Madge wouldn't have liked it either." + +He had a grave voice, like a judge's, and a quick, pert eye, like a +jackdaw's. Outwardly he was as unlike Margaret as the haft of a pike is +unlike a lily, but I already saw her spirit in him. + +"Sir," said I, "when I am fortified by a good supper, I will venture to +indicate my preferences on the subject." + +He took out his snuff-box, tapped it carefully, opened it, and held it +out to me. + +"You have begun well, sir. I hear you are a great scholar, Latin and all +that, quite pat. Damme, sir, those ancients understood things. They knew +how to honour the gods, for they made soldiers of 'em and set 'em fighting +in the clouds. There's divinity for you! You've got twenty-eight minutes." + +I laughed and left him. + +The room in which my introduction to the Colonel had taken place was +immediately over the archway. Its window opened on to a balcony which, +supported on thick oak balks, stood over the causeway of the street; its +door was in a passage leading from one wing of the house to the other, and +in the passage were three leaded lattice-windows of greenish glass, +plentifully sprinkled with blobs and nodes, giving on the long inn-yard. +The room was thus admirably situated for people in our precarious +position, having a look-out back and front, and a way of escape right and +left. + +The cherry-cheeked lass who had thrown me the kiss was tripping past the +door as I opened it. She told me that she had been attending on ''er +ladyship,' and willingly led me to a bedroom and brought me thither the +things I needed for my sluicing, among them a passable razor and a +huckaback fit to fetch the hide off a horse. + +"Give me now the kiss you threw me," said I, as she was turning to leave. + +"Nay, sir," she said. "You're not in trouble now, and dunna need it." + +"Lassie," said I, "that's a right womanly reply, and here's something to +buy a ribbon with that shall be worthy of you." And I gave her one of the +dead Major's guineas. + +"Thank yer, sir," she said. "And besides there's no need for you to be +kissing the likes of me." + +"You're a sweetly pretty lassie," said I. + +"Y' dunna want to be gawpin' around after pennies when there's guineas to +be picked up," she replied, with a toss of her head. "Struth, I wish at +times I wasna quite so pretty. There's some men, bless you, I know one +myself, such fools that they think a pretty wench doesna want kissin'. +But, sartin sure, there's never been the like of 'er ladyship in Newcastle +in my time. I'll 'ave a ribbon on Sunday as near the colour and shine of +'er ladyship's hair as money can buy, and Sail'll wish 'er'd never been +born. I'll Sim 'er." + +With this terrible threat she flounced out of the room, and I laughed and +wondered who and what 'Sim' was. A decent fellow and a good tradesman, I +hoped, and wished him pluck and luck. + +While I was tidying myself up, my mind was busy with the strange tangle +things were got into. The mysterious Master Freake, after turning the +Mayor into his pliant tool, had apparently disappeared. The Colonel had +not breathed a word of explanation, and seemed to feel so secure that he +was dawdling in the town as if no enemy were at hand. Of the state of +affairs in the town itself I knew nothing. The one clear thing was that I +had got my neck right into the noose, and Brocton could, and would, pull +tight at the first opportunity. What did all this matter? What did any +untoward event or result matter? I was going to be a soldier, and, after +the fashion of love-lorn Cherry-Cheeks, I said to myself, "I'll Jack him!" +I was going to be near Margaret, and, so rejoicing, bethought me of the +hapless Roman's "_Infelix, properas ultima nosse mala._" And what did +that matter either? I rubbed myself the colour of a love-apple, humming +the while old-time ditties long since driven out of my head by the Latin +rubbish. Jack was right. Of course it was rubbish. "Latin be damned," said +I gleefully. "Nothing counts but life and love." + +There was more than a pinch of swagger in me as I made my way back to the +passage overlooking the yard. Arrived there, I cautiously opened the +nearest lattice and peered out. The inn-yard was dark and silent, and I +was on the point of closing the window when I heard the clatter of hoofs +on the stone-paving under the archway. A moment later a man on foot came +in sight, and was followed into the yard by two men on horseback, one of +them in charge of a led horse. + +At once all was bustle. Ostlers ran up with lanterns, and the host came +forward, candle in hand and a multitude of words on his tongue, to order +things aright. + +The man afoot was Master Freake, and it was clear that the riders were +men of his, for I heard him ask them if they were quite clear as to their +instructions, and both answered respectfully that they were. I could see +they wore swords and that their horses were splendid, powerful animals, +not much inferior to Sultan himself. Who and what was this man--"plain +John Freake," as he called himself,--who carried large sums of money, +domineered over self-important burgesses and mayors, who was served by +such well-appointed horsemen, whom Master Dobson, a parliament man, +feared, and my Lord Brocton had thought it worth while to attempt to put +out of the way? + +It was a riddle I could not read, but as I stood there, peering round the +half-open lattice at the scene below, I was happier than ever I had been +in my life. "Poor old Jack," said I to myself, "sweating and swearing over +your riff-raff dragooners, and here am I, who envied you yester-morn, on +the top rung of life." + +"We shall get it if we're late," said Mistress Margaret playfully in my +ear. "Not because dad worries whether he eats or not, but because he's so +strong on mil-it-ary dis-cip-line." I write the words so, as a poor, paper +imitation of the mincing gait she could put into her speech, which was +ever one of her delightfulnesses. "You'd have been the better," she went +on, "for a bringing-up on a troop-sergeant's switch. See what it's done +for me!" + +So she challenged me to admire her, and indeed I think that the witch was +verily bent on casting a spell over me. No words can paint her as she +stood in the dim-lit passage, the infinite sum of womanhood, peerless in +every grace and gift; not now the tense, proud Margaret of the quick +rebuke and the shattering sarcasm, but the mirthful, trustful, grateful +companion of our boy-and-girl escapade. + +"I think you're right, madam," said I. "Bloggs, dear old chap, flogged +the meaning of Virgil into me, but I wish he had flogged in some of the +meaning of life along with it. I feel as helpless as Saul would have felt +with David's sling and stones." + +"Are you as one fighting a Goliath?" + +"I am," said I, not able now to speak lightly, and not daring to look at +her. Could any enterprise be more hopeless than the one my heart, against +all the strivings of sense and reason, was beginning to set me? Through +the open lattice I watched the flicker of lanterns in the yard, where the +horses were being upped and whoaed stablewards. + +"You will favour me, sir, with your escort into supper," said Margaret. + +This brought me to myself with a jerk. I closed the lattice, offered her +my arm, and we walked towards the guest-room where the Colonel was +awaiting us. + +"I think you'd better revise your knowledge of the Scriptures, Master +Oliver," said she very quietly as I led her into the room. + +"In what respect, Mistress Margaret?" + +"You seem to have an imperfect recollection of the way in which Goliath +met his death. It's idle to say we're late, dad, when supper's not yet +served." + +He exploded into words I did not understand. "It's all right, only +French," whispered Margaret mischievously. "It means 'name of a dog.' I +could swear better myself." + +"That's right," stormed the Colonel. "As fast as I curse soldiering into +one ear of him, you coax it out of the other! I'll be thankful when you're +under Mother Patterson's wing in Chester." + +The coming of Cherry-Cheeks and one of the hard-favoured maids with the +supper, followed by our host with the wine, followed in turn by Master +Freake, put an end to my first lesson in soldiering and the imprecatory +wealth of continental languages, and straightway the host slopped over +with apologies for the delay in serving the supper. + +"Things are a bit upset in the town, y' mun know," he said, "and every +wench in the 'Rising Sun' 'as been a devil unknobbed all day. This +red-faced hussy here, when 'er was wanted to set the table, was off to see +if that spindle-shanked Sim across at the Mayor's was safe and sound. And +besides, my lady and y'r 'onours, the famous steak-and-kidney puddin' o' +the 'Rising Sun' must be boiled to a bubble or it's dummacked. If one got +spiled, the news 'ud run down to Chester and up to London in no time, and +the 'Red Lion' 'ud get all my customers. His Grace of Kingston put up at +the 'Red Lion' in all innocence until his worship, for old friendship's +sake and a bottle of brandy, 'ticed 'im over 'ere to one of my puddin's. +'E started an inch off the table and ate till 'e touched, as we say in +Staffordsheer, and then sent for 'is baggage, and 'as lain 'ere ever since +in the great bedchamber over y'r yeds, an' I'm thinking to call it the +Duke's Room an' charge sixpence extra for it. It's worth another sixpence +to sleep in the same bed as a duke's slep' in. If it ain't, by gom, I'd +like to know what he is for. Damn if y'r can tell by lukkin' at 'im." + +What I have for convenience' sake set down here as a continuous speech +addressed to us all, was really a series of remarks addressed to whichever +of us appeared for the moment to be listening, and broken by commands, +scoldings, and threats addressed to the women. The tail-end of his remarks +made me cock my ear, for it indicated that we were at the centre of the +danger zone. + +"If I were you," interposed Master Freake at last, "I'd coax Prince +Charlie to sleep in it and then charge a shilling extra. A prince, and my +dislike of his ways doesn't unprince him, is surely worth twice as much as +a duke." + +"Swelp me bob," cried the delighted host, slapping his thigh in high +glee, "that 'ud be better than a murder. It's wunnerful how a murder 'elps +a 'ouse. Tek the 'Quiet Woman' o' Madeley. There was a murder there, and a +damn poor thing of a murder it was, nothing but a fudge-mounter cuttin' a +besom-filer's throat; poor wench, 'er lived up on th' Higherland yonder, +and I'll bet it was wuth two-and-twenty barrel of beer to owd Wat. A +murder's clean providential to a pub--" + +"Damn, get out," vociferated the Colonel, "or I'll provide the murder and +you the corpse." + +The meal, be it said, was thoroughly good in every way. I'm not the man +to despise my belly, and I don't hold with those that do. There are better +things in life than steak-and-kidney puddings, but my experience is they +want a lot of finding. The Colonel would not hear of any talk about our +affairs till supper was over. "I dare say you're all agog to know what +I've been doing and what we are going to do," he said to me. "That's +because you're a youngster at everything and a mere infant-in-arms at +soldiering. When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that the +only things really worth bothering about are supper and bed." + +To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argument +with Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if I +remember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a rare +treat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty. + +At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with a +mischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, but +I prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them." + +"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso." + +"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips. + +"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder." + +She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radiance +of her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're a +brute." + +"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel." + +She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her hand +beneath the hawthorns. + +"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who was +right about the dog's life?" + +"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly. + +The host was rung for, his supper praised to his heart's content, the +table cleared, and a dish of tea ordered for Margaret. Bethinking me of +the sergeant's tuck, which might be useful, I asked the host to bring it +up, and he did so. + +When we were again left to ourselves, the Colonel took the sword, and +examined it with his skilful eyes and practised hands. + +"Somewhat heavy," said he, "but well balanced and well made, and of the +truest steel. Are you a swordsman, Master Wheatman?" + +"I never had one in my hand in my life till to-day," was my reply. + +"Gird him for the wars, Margaret," said he. "So much of the ancient rules +and customs of chivalry as can be observed in these mechanic days shall, +by us at any rate, be observed. In strict law you ought to have spent a +night in prayer and fasting, but your loyal service to Margaret is a good +equivalent. To labour is to pray, say the parsons, and, my lad, always +remember in your soldiering that a so-minded man can offer up a powerful +prayer between pull of trigger and flash of priming. Kneel, Oliver, and in +God's sight you shall be more truly knighted than any capering and +chattering of German Geordie's can contrive." + +And so, in the guest-room of the "Rising Sun," I knelt to my sweet +mistress, and, before God and in the presence of Christopher Waynflete, +Colonel of Horse in the service of the King of Sweden, and John Freake, +citizen of London, Margaret, gravely and serenely beautiful, touched my +shoulder with the sword and then girded it upon me. + +"Sirs," she said, addressing her father and Master Freake, "the accolade +has never been given to a worthier." Then, bending swiftly as a swallow +dips in its flight over the meadows, she whispered emphatically in my +ears, "Yokel it no more!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PHARAOH'S KINE + + +"And now to business," said Master Freake. + +"To pleasure, sir," said the Colonel. "Business is over." + +He was leisurely filling his pipe, an example which Margaret, with a +smile and a nod, gave me permission to follow. + +"Tell us how you escaped," said Margaret. "Master Wheatman cannot too +soon begin to learn the tricks of the trade. Sorry, dad," bending to kiss +his hand; "you needn't look at me in German. I mean rudiments of the +profession." + +"A woman who calls soldiering a trade ought to be forcibly married to a +parson," said the Colonel passionately. + +"There'll be a reasonable quantity of parsons to choose from at Chester," +she retorted, laughing up in his face. + +"Chester? Why Chester?" demanded Master Freake, suddenly tense and +vigilant. + +"I need name no name, but a certain dignitary's lady there, one of our +supporters, undertook to take her in charge while this affair was on," +explained the Colonel. + +Master Freake, it seemed to me, was disappointed with the explanation, +and, knowing that what Margaret wanted was to have the rumour of her +father's intended treachery blown to pieces by his own account, I said, +"There's only one parson in England fit to look at Mistress Margaret, and +he's sixty and married. Let me learn, I pray you, sir, the art of slipping +out of the hands of a squad of dragoons on a road crowded with soldiery." + +"If you think you are to hear a tale that will make you grip the arms of +your chairs, you're in for a sad disappointment. Yesterday and through the +night, they stuck to me as if Geordie had offered thirty thousand pounds +for me, dead or alive, but this morning their hold on me slackened. They +might have intended me to escape. I was put on a fresh horse, about the +best they'd got; the dragoon in charge of me was three parts drunk when we +started; we got mixed up in a crowd of foot retreating south, and +separated from our main body, and finding myself alone on the road with +one man, and him drunk, I just knocked him off his horse, and cleared off +across the fields. + +"I rode on until I got a sight of this town, and the main road into it, +from a hill-top, and watched for an hour or so to see what was happening. +I knew by my pace that I was well ahead of my late escort, and seeing no +signs of them, came on to this inn, and was enjoying a good dinner when I +saw Sultan and Oliver on him. The rest you know. Not much of a tale. Madge +has done better many a time." + +"Do you really think the Captain intended you to escape?" It was Margaret +who asked the question, looking intently at me as she spoke. + +I looked from her to Master Freake and back again, meaning to remind her +that I wanted no convincing, but she still kept her eyes on mine, her chin +cupped in her long white hands, and I was glad of her insistence for I +could look at her without offence. I thought the mellow fire-light made +her look more beautiful than ever. The lustrous yellow hair shone like +molten gold, and the dark blue eyes became a queenly purple. + +"If it were done on purpose it was done cleverly," continued the Colonel, +"for the chance which set me free came quite naturally. The horse I rode +yesterday was wanted in the usual way by a trooper to whom it belonged, +and where so many men were more or less drunk, the choice of my particular +drunkard was certainly accidental. And, besides, what possible motive +could there be in letting me escape? Brocton knows I'm an experienced +soldier of great repute--I state plain facts--and am eagerly expected by +the Prince and by my old companion-in-arms, Geordie Murray. They couldn't +have planned it better if they had wished it, but it's absurd to say they +wished it. There ought to be a cashiered captain and a half-flayed dragoon +somewhere south of us. Damme, I merit that at least." + +He bent over the hearth to relight his pipe. Master Freake smiled and +rubbed his hands gently. Margaret's eyes blazed with triumph, and +challenged me, still me, to share it. Woman-logic was clean beyond my poor +wits. I was sick for action. These glorious interludes with Margaret gave +me no chance. It was like setting me afire and asking me not to burn. + +Thinking of the poor, half-flayed devil behind us, made me think of the +sergeant, and I asked Master Freake, "Did you give the sergeant his papers +and letter?" + +"No," was the ready reply. "The papers dealt rather frankly with certain +regimental accounts, and, since the sergeant is now very bitterly set +against us, may be useful in my hands. I had a shrewd notion that the +letter concerned the title to certain lands as to which Lord Brocton and I +are at odds, and on opening it I found to my satisfaction that I was +right. With your permission, Oliver, I will keep it." + +"By all means do so," said I, anxious to burn again, and turning back to +Margaret. If this silent, capacious man, so great a stranger yet so clear +a friend, had said that the letter was about a new edition of Virgil, I +should have believed him, and also, I fear me, have been equally +uninterested. Latin be damned! + +"Something for you in Oliver's magic-hat," said Margaret smilingly to +Master Freake. "He really must fetch something out for himself soon. +Staffordshire is by far the most delightful country I have ever been in. +Only one little day has gone by, and in that day Staffordshire has given +me more and truer friends than Europe gave me in ten years. I shall cross +its borders with regret. Shall we make the most of it while we have it and +sleep here, dad?" + +"Unless we're routed out," was his reply, "and I do not think we shall +be, for the enemy have all cleared out of the town. Cumberland is, of +course, doing the right thing. He had few men north of Stafford, and fewer +still worth powder and shot. Where the Prince is I've no idea." + +"Resting for the day at Macclesfield," said Master Freake, "and his plans +are not certain, or, at least, not known. The Duke of Kingston has a small +body of horse at Congleton and is watching his movements." + +"Damme," the Colonel broke in, "I did not know we had enemies north of +us. Are you sure?" + +"Certain. One of my men reported the facts to me just before supper." + +"It's awkward, or rather will be awkward if anyone who knows me turns up. +That rascally landlord of ours must have known where Kingston was, but +amid all his talk he never told me that. Damme, somebody's got hold of +him. Still, you can't take the bull by the horns till his nose is +slobbering your waistcoat, so pass the wine, Oliver." + +He refilled his glass and then, leisurely and with his eyes dreamily +fixed on the fire, loaded his pipe with a new charge of tobacco, and went +on smoking. + +"Are you a Jacobite?" suddenly asked Margaret, looking inquiringly at +Master Freake. + +"Dear me, no, Mistress Margaret," was the frank reply. "But you need not +curl those sweet lips of yours, for neither am I a Hanoverian." + +"Then what are you?" she asked again, with the same uncompromising +directness. + +"A Freakeiteian," said he with a smile. + +"It puzzles me," was her brief comment. + +"Let me explain," said he simply. "A Jacobite wants Charles to win; a +Hanoverian wants George to win; a Freakeiteian wants to know who is going +to win." + +By this time Margaret was no more puzzled than I was. Yesterday when I +stood on the river-bank watching my cork, I cared not a rap whether George +or Charles won, and that was an understandable position; but why a man +should be spending money in handfuls, and roughing it in the wilds of +Staffordshire, merely in order to know who was going to win, was beyond my +poor wits. + +"You do not understand?" he said. + +"No," said Margaret and I together. + +The Colonel took no notice. He was puffing away at his pipe, +long-drawn-out, solemn puffs, and gazing at the fire in a brown study. + +"Well, Margaret and Oliver," said Master Freake, "this is no time to be +giving you lessons in the way the great world wags that neither knows nor +cares of outs and ins and party shufflings, but is busy with rents and +crops, and incomings and outgoings, and debts and credits, and wivings and +thrivings. But, believe me, in being anxious to know who is going to win, +I am as plainly and simply doing my duty as is the Colonel who is going to +do his best to help his Prince to win. I am one, and, I thank God, not the +least, of that great race of men who are destined to mould a mightier +England than the sword could ever carve--the merchant of London whose nod +is his bond." + +He spoke with simple dignity and his word was established. I had trusted +him on sight. "His nod was his bond." You saw it in the man's clear, +steady eyes and knew it by the set of his firm, square chin. After a +warning glance at the silent Colonel, he leaned forward, and Margaret bent +to meet him. + +"If Charles loses," he murmured, "many heads will be smitten from their +shoulders." + +The colour left her cheeks instantly and tears welled forth from her eyes. + +"But not the Colonel's," he whispered. + +I was watching her with the eye of a hawk. A smile dawned on the white +face, the sad eyes began to lose their gloom, and my fool of a heart began +to flutter. + +Yet once more he whispered, "And not Oliver's." + +She leaned farther forward still and kissed him. + +And it was just at that moment that the door opened smartly and +Cherry-Cheeks put her sweet head round it and swiftly and peremptorily +beckoned me outside. + +Margaret laughed. + +In the dim passage, Cherry-Cheeks caught my hand affrightedly and +babbled, "Oh, sir, there's the ugliest beast you ever saw spying on her +ladyship. Take your boots off, sir, and creep after me!" + +I tugged them off and we started. Along the passage she flew and upstairs +into the corresponding passage above. Here, outside the Duke's room, she +stopped and whispered, "He'll think I'm that bitch Sal. Hide behind me!" + +She opened the door and stole into the room with me in tow, holding her +skirt and crouching down nearly to the floor. + +She was somewhat broad in the beam, like a Dutch hoy, and all I could see +was a dull glimmer somewhere ahead in the darkness. + +"Ssss-h, damn ye," said the beast fiercely. "Stand still!" + +Cherry-Cheeks took care not to stop till near the light, and then, with +wonderful ready wit, put her right hand on her hip and I peeped through +between arm and waist. + +Full length on his belly lay the man from Yarlet Bank. There was a small +spy-hole in the floor, on the edge of the hearth, and he had his right ear +against it, which was lucky, for it kept his face turned from me. The +notebook lay open on the floor near a guttering tallow candle in an iron +candlestick, and the stump of pencil was clenched in his dirty yellow +teeth. + +I threw my handkerchief on the floor, took my fat little Virgil in my +left hand, and crept out to him. When near on top of him, I gripped him +round the nape of the neck, digging my fingers in his flabby throat, and +he went slimy with fright like a great, fat lob-worm. I swooped down on +him with my full weight, and pinned him to the floor. His big mouth opened +as he fought for breath, and I clapped the Virgil hard and far into it, +tying it tight in with my handkerchief, and gagging him effectually. + +I looked up and found, to my relief, that Cherry-Cheeks, like a sensible +girl, had crept out of the room, and her share in the affair was never +even suspected. + +Drawing my tuck, I touched the back of his neck with the point. He +flinched and squirmed, great drops of sweat larded his nasty face, and I +knew the fear of death and hell was in his marrow. + +"Do exactly what I say," I whispered, "or through it goes. Understand?" + +He could hardly nod his ugly head for the trembling of his body, and I +fairly dithered as I knelt on him. I made him rise, and then caught hold +of the skirt of his coat. Holding him by it at arm's length, I stuck my +point to his neck again, and said, "Forward." + +I marched him downstairs and along the passage. There was great risk of +being met by some one, and it was the most anxious time I had had since +the affair with the sergeant in the house-place at the Hanyards. Oddly +enough, as I drove him along, the thought came to me of the bygone days +when Jack and I had played horses just like this at the Hanyards, and when +my prisoner stuck a trifle at the door of the guest-room, I growled at +him, "Come up!" It was a strange trick of the mind. To me he was just +play-horse Jack dawdling to look at ten-year-old Kate feeding her +chickens. + +I got him in unseen without and unnoticed within, for the Colonel and +Master Freake were again at their arguments of state, hammer and tongs, +and they minded the click of the door behind them no more than the crack +of a spark at their feet. Indeed the Colonel said "Pish!" with great +vehemence, and Master Freake's "My dear sir!" had a shake of pepper in it. +As for me, I like a man who, when he gets into a thing, gets into it up to +the neck. + +Margaret added to my amusement, for as I pricked my prisoner on into the +fire-light, and peeped over his shoulder, he being a good six inches +shorter than I, madam leaned forward and became absorbed in the high +debate. + +"I beg to report, sir," said I, as indifferently as I could manage to +speak, "the capture of a spy." + +"Hang him at daybreak," said the Colonel, without so much as looking at +him. "Pish, man, the trade in salted herrings is no more a nursery of +seamen than I'm--Damme, what's this, Oliver? Damme, it's Weir. Your +servant, Mister Weir, and I shall vastly relish seeing you strung up." + +I gave a brief account of where and how I had found him, making no +mention of our helpful girl friend, but pointing out that he had +co-scoundrels at work for him in the inn. + +"Another good piece of work, Oliver," said the Colonel. "I like the way +you use your available material. I've seen many things used as gags, but +not a book before; yet it makes a very good one. Keeps him quiet as a +stone and withal leaves him free to lick up a few crumbs of learning." + +Margaret had not looked at me yet, and indeed seemed bent on keeping her +face, heightened in colour by the warmth and glow of the fire, turned away +from me. Now a rather big matter had come into my mind, so I said +urgently, "Name of a dog," and thus shook her into looking at me. +Whereupon, I pointed first to Mr. Freake, then to the spy, and wagged my +head sagely. Her quick mind saw at once that I was afraid that our friend +would be compromised if we were not careful. She promptly said something +to her father in an unknown tongue, and by the cock of his eye I knew he'd +taken the point. + +"My good friend," he said, "pray step over to his worship the Mayor and +ask him to come over and commit this rascally spy to the town jail. Say, I +beg, that I am grieved to have to disturb him, but His Majesty's servants +must ever be at the disposal of His Majesty's affairs." + +I grinned behind the spy's back at this masterly way of getting George's +servant to do James's work. Master Freake started at once, and, stepping +with him to the door, I whispered, "Give us fifteen minutes." + +"Right!" he whispered back again. "Look in your holsters!" + +As soon as he had gone, the Colonel ordered me to guard the door, and +this gave me the chance of putting on my boots again. The Colonel, cutting +off with his sword a good length of bell rope, made a swift and most +workmanlike job of tying the spy into a knot. He then opened the window, +and, Margaret taking my place meanwhile, he and I cautiously bundled Weir +on to the balcony, shut down the window, and left him safe and silent. + +"Be in the porch in ten minutes, Margaret, ready to start. Oliver, get +the horses there ready in that time. You ride the troop-horse, and Freake +has provided a mare for Margaret. Quick's the work and sharp's the motion!" + +Margaret and I started together to carry out our orders. Once in the +passage we had to go different ways, and I bowed and was going mine +without a word, when she put her hand on my arm and stayed me. + +"I'm sorry you've lost your Virgil," she said. + +I wondered, as already so many times I had wondered, at the somersaults +of feeling she was capable of. Where was now the Margaret of the short, +disdainful laugh? Not here, in the twilight between the bright room and +the black yard. Here was a subtle, mysterious Margaret, half regret and +half caprice, with one thought in her eyes and another on her lips. + +"So am I, madam. I wish it had been Kate's cookery-book." + +She would have mastered me had I stayed another second. I bowed again and +left her. + +And this is, perhaps, the best place to say that I did not lose my Virgil +after all. Here it is on the table as I write, still the dearest of all my +books. On each side of the healing an irregular curve of teeth-marks cuts +into the yellowing parchment. Dear, brave Cherry-Cheeks sent it home by +the hands of a vagrom pedlar, laboriously and exactly writing on the +package the inscription she found on the fly leaf: + + OLIVER WHEATMAN, Esquire, + of the Hanyards, + Staffordshire, + _Aetatis anno_ 13 + +I routed out ostlers, and by dint of a judicious blend of cursings and +bribings had the horses ready under the archway in time. Margaret was +there waiting, with our pretty maid fluttering around her. The Colonel was +within, settling with the word-warrior host. I helped Margaret into the +saddle and led her horse into the street, turning its head northward. In a +moment, her father clattered after her on Sultan. I went back to smile +farewell to Cherry-Cheeks and deal out my bribes, but was after them +before they had trotted a stone's throw. + +They were cantering towards the bridge by which the high street of the +town crosses a tiny streamlet and again becomes the high road to the +north-west. It was only a pistol-shot from the portico of the "Rising Sun" +to the hither side of the bridge, where a group of townsmen were collected +round a man with a lantern. We had ridden forth into a strangely quiet +town, but before I was half-way to the bridge, and not yet settled down to +my saddle, loud shrieks rang out behind me. Looking back, I saw a woman +leaning forth, candle in hand, from the Duke's bedroom window. She waved +her light and yelled as one distraught. There was no mistaking what had +happened. Sal, the sour-faced hussy who wanted me hanged, had learned the +fate of the spy. Folks rushed from all quarters to see what was the +matter. The sooner we were well out of it the better, and I pricked on to +overtake the Colonel and Margaret. + +I was near on them at the bridge, where the gossips had lined up to watch +them pass. Timothy was there, thankful for once, I thought, of his long +coat, while the man who held the lantern was the man to whom I owed a +drubbing. I wondered what he was doing there with a lantern, for it was a +brilliant moonlight night, and, since he made to run townwards as soon as +he saw who was passing, I felt in my bones that he meant mischief and was +probably in league with the spy. I turned my horse at him before he was +clear of the bridge and tumbled him back headlong on Timothy, who yelled +the most astonishing yell I ever heard, snatched the lantern out of Beery +Breath's unresisting fingers, and with it smashed into him with such a +fury that he beat him to his knees. + +I laughed, for the man had got his drubbing after all, through me if not +by me. As for the other townies, they enjoyed it like a play. + +"Gom!" said one. "He's trod on Tim's gammy toe." + +"Damn if he don't turn on 'is missus when 'er does that," said another. + +The Colonel and Margaret were looking back when I drew level. + +"Anything the matter?" he asked. + +"The spy is discovered, sir," I said. + +"Does that mean harm to Master Freake?" inquired Margaret. + +"Not it," replied the Colonel. "He's got the Mayor in his pocket. Do you +know this country, Oliver?" + +"No, sir," was my answer. "Only in broad outline. This is the main road +to Chester, and away on our right is an open country running up into +roughish moorland and hills. Leek lies that way on the Derby road to +London. The country to our left I know nothing about." + +"Then we'll stick to the main road as long as possible and stop at the +first inn after all danger-spots are behind us. Sorry to turn you out, +Madge, but it was impossible to stop once Weir found us out, since +Kingston and his men might have turned up at any moment, and then we +should have been done for. All we have to do is to get north of him. From +the south we have nothing to fear now. Brocton's dragoons would have +turned up hours ago if there was any intention of trying to recapture me. +Freake had sent one of his men down the road to give us time to clear off +if Brocton did pursue. That was why I was content to stay on at the inn." + +"Weir knows who you are, sir, I take it?" said I. + +"Exactly. He's a notorious Government spy, and is busy here worming into +our local plans. There are plenty of the honest party hereabouts, and +especially over to the west there in Wales." + +"Are we still in Staffordshire, Master Wheatman?" asked Margaret. + +"Oh yes, for quite a distance ahead," I replied. + +"The spirit of prophecy is upon me, gentlemen," she said merrily. "Our +Staffordshire luck is not yet out, and this time it's Master Wheatman's +turn." + +"Well, then, Master Wheatman shall ride ahead and scout for it. About +thirty yards, Oliver. Keep your horse well in hand, and be all eyes and +ears. Damn this moon! It picks us out like three crows on a field of snow, +and this infernal road's as straight and level as a plank. Ride in any +available shadow!" + +I went ahead and set them an easy pace. Work had begun again, the work of +my heart's desire, and all along the Chester road there was no blither +spirit than mine that night. I was astride a flaming sorrel, no match for +Sultan, but still a good sound horse. He knew I was his master and so I +made him a friend, patting his neck, crooning to him, and giving him a +lick of sugar out of my hand. The danger we were in was like wine to my +heart. Enemies ahead and enemies behind, and this bare, bleak, +moon-smitten road between. Now and again, for remembrance' sake and the +joy of it, I cocked my ear to pick out the patter of Margaret's mare from +the heavier, longer strides of Sultan. Yes, there she was, doubtless +murmuring Italian love-ditties to her happy inmost self and thinking +of--Pshaw! This was romancing, and another's romance at that, and it +deadened me against my will, while here was a man's work to do. So I +turned to it and lived. + +I examined the holsters, according to Master Freake's orders. I found a +pair of pistols which, even in the pale moonlight, looked what they indeed +were--handsome, accurate weapons, the best work of the best gunsmith in +London. I was the equal of most men with the pistol, and usually had, +indeed, a capital pair at the Hanyards, but Jack had taken them off with +him on his dragooning. Over and above the pistols and their ammunition I +found a sizeable leathern bag, and the feel of it to my fingers showed +that it was chock-full of money. When I did turn it out next day, I found +near on sixty pounds, mostly in guineas and half-guineas, and a note: + +"Dear lad, this town is very bare of guineas and many of them are lighter +than the law alloweth, but you shall have more as occasion offers.--Your +friend, J. F." + +I turned to the road again with a merrier heart than ever, for I thought, +as Smite-and-spare-not would have thought before me, that the very +handiwork of God Himself was here displayed, in that the seemingly most +untoward events of our journey had been turned into means of strength and +assurance. Had I, as I ought to have done, brought money of my own from +the Hanyards, I should never have started highwayman, and so never have +met Master Freake on Wes'on Bank. + +Three miles or more we made in this manner, and I had heard nothing more +alarming than the hoot of an owl from an ivy-crusted elm. Some distance +back the road had climbed slightly for a space, then fallen into the level +again, and now ran, open and unhedged, across the bleaky top of a barren +upland. I chirruped to the sorrel and gave him another lick of sugar to +comfort him. A moment later, I knew by the forward cock of his ears and +the swift up-shake of his head that something was in the wind, and +strained my own ears to listen, for there was nothing of note visible +ahead or around. + +From far ahead came the faint rattle of hoofs on the hard road. I pulled +up, and, a moment later, Margaret and the Colonel stopped beside me. + +"What is it?" asked the latter. + +"Horse coming this way, sir," was my reply. The sounds were already +plainer. For a full minute he listened carefully. "A good number of them, +and making a smart pace," he said. "It can only be Kingston's advance +guard falling back. Most likely the van of the Highlanders has beaten up +their quarters. Once past them we shall be--Hello! Slids! What's that? +Reinforcements! Egad. Oliver, we're between the hammer and the anvil." + +He turned his head round sharply and so did Margaret and I. From behind +us came again the unmistakable rattle of a body of horse. We were trapped +completely. + +"This is damned annoying," said the Colonel. He looked casually around, +as indifferently as he would have looked round the guest-room of the +"Rising Sun," and added, "Follow me, and ride as if the devil were at your +tail." + +He turned off into the bare, flat country, and we after him. How we rode! +He was making for a little group of trees, some dozen wind-sown pines, +stuck like a forlorn picket in enemy country a stone's-throw from the +road. We got there in a bunch, for there was no time for Sultan's pace to +count. + +"Damn the moon!" he said, and dismounted. "But this is better than +nothing. Take off Margaret's saddle, Oliver." + +I got down, and assisted Margaret to dismount. She thanked me, briefly +and smilingly, as unperturbed as the gaunt pine beneath which she stood. + +The Colonel and I changed the saddles, and in a few seconds Margaret was +on Sultan. I asked him in vain to take the sorrel and leave the mare to +me, for she was getting restive, and the Colonel was not quite so able as +I was with a strange horse. I insisted, however, in taking off my coat and +wrapping it about the mare's head, and, being thus blanketed, she gave us +no further trouble. By the Colonel's orders, Margaret, on Sultan, took her +place between us, heading for the open country, while he and I turned to +the road. The thin, straggling pine-branches cast but little shadow, and I +knew it was next to impossible for us to pass unnoticed. + +"Now, Madge," said the Colonel, "it's bound to come to a fight. As soon +as the fun begins, off you go like the wind into this bog-hole in front of +you, and in five minutes you'll be out of danger. Make a detour round to +the road again, keep the moon behind your back, and push on to the nearest +inn. Oliver and I will join you there, if so God wills. If we don't, +you're on the Chester road. Have you your money still?" + +"Yes, dad." + +"You understand, Madge?" + +"Quite clearly." + +"Then kiss me, sweetheart." + +She kissed him without a word, and turned to look goodbye to me. For a +moment I went all aquiver with emotion. This wonderful new life of mine +had at times to be lived in the outskirts and suburbs of death. +Fortunately, a thought came into my head, and I tugged out the leathern +bag and thrust it into her hand. + +"Don't leave that under the bed," said I, and, being very bold, as one +may be with death at one's door, I drew her gloved hand, with the bag in +it, towards me, and kissed it. She said nothing to me, but the light in +her eyes was like moonlight on the dancing surface of a mountain spring. + +"Look to your pistols, Oliver," ordered the Colonel briefly and crisply. +"See your tuck slips easy in the scabbard. Another minute will decide. You +and I can easily give Madge all the start Sultan requires." + +"Easily, sir," I answered stoutly. + +"Good lad!" said the Colonel. + +And Margaret, leaning across until her lips were near my cheek as I bent +to see what she wanted, said, for the third time, "Well done, fisherman!" +I laughed lightly and was glad, for was not this calm, brave, splendid +woman thinking of how we two had met? + +From the first cock of the sorrel's ears to this so characteristic remark +of Margaret's could not have been five minutes, and now, although owing to +the downward slope to our left I have mentioned, and its corresponding +slope to the right, neither body was yet in sight, they were so nearly on +us that differences between them became obvious. The southern troup was +small, was not travelling beyond a smart trot, and was, so far as the men +were concerned, absolutely quiet. The body from the north was large, was +forcing a hot gallop, and much noise and shouting came from the troopers. + +It was plain that we were in for it. The men from Newcastle were no doubt +coming north as a reinforcement, but it was absurd to suppose that they +had not been told of our doings and of our escape northwards. They had not +overtaken us, and we must be on the road somewhere. The men from the north +had not met us. Never since the world began had two and two been easier to +put together. There was only one place for us to be in and this was it. A +short parley, a glance our way, and an overwhelming force would dash at +the picket of pines. + +The bare road lay there in the moonlight, half a mile of it in clear view +on either hand. The two bodies came in sight within a few seconds of each +other, and the Colonel snapped his fingers and chuckled. + +From the north a wild rush of spurring, flogging, shouting, cursing +horsemen, about a hundred of them. No order, no discipline, no +soldiership--nothing but mad haste and madder fear. + +The mare began to plunge, and the Colonel, leaping off, nearly strangled +her in the coat. The sorrel got uneasy but gave me no real trouble. Sultan +took not the slightest notice of the din behind him, and leisurely cropped +the tough bussocks of grass at his feet. + +I looked to the road again. The southern body was small, not more than a +score, compact, riding smartly but with military order and precision. The +man at their head, the officer in command, no doubt, spurred on and began +to shout at the oncoming northerners. He might as well have spoken fair +words to an avalanche, and the men behind him began to waver and most of +them pulled up. It was useless. The torrent swept into them and bore them +backward, tumbling some of them over, men and horses together, but +incorporating most of them in its own madness. In less than five minutes +the last batch of dragooners had cursed and spurred themselves out of +sight, and the bright moon shone down on a road once more bare and white +save for a few scattered patches of black. + +The Colonel uncovered the mare's head and nuzzled her. All he said was, +but that very gleefully, "Geordie, my boy, I'll be routing you out of St. +James's within the fortnight. I'll learn you to neglect the King of +Sweden's Colonels! Damme, Oliver, it made me think of Pharaoh's kine--one +lot eating the other up. Now, sweetheart my Madge, we'll have your pretty +eyes a-bye-bye in no time." + +"I never saw anything so funny in my life," said Margaret. "On with your +coat, Oliver, before you take cold." + +From all of which I learned to take, as they did, the fat with the lean +in soldiering, and not to care a brass farthing which it was. Still, I was +as yet so young at the game, that, though I was careful to swagger it out +and say nothing, I did wonder why the body from the south was so small. + +And I wonder as I write whether it was or was not the mistake of my life +merely to wonder then. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"WAR HAS ITS RISKS" + + +I slept unsoundly and in snatches. Margaret was in the room beneath me, +"dreaming in Italian," thought I, in unhappy imitation of her dainty gibe +at her father. A problem was on my mind, and that was ever with me an +enemy to sleep. I meant being the best of soldiers, and this that worried +me was a military problem. To be short, I could not help asking myself, +"Were the dragoons from the south intended as a reinforcement to the horse +from the north?" And somehow I could not think they were. As the top-dog +spirit in me put it: "It was like sending Jack to reinforce me. _Quod +est absurdum_." + +Time the Explainer permits me to be frank. There was this other side to +my problem that I could not bring myself to be sure the Colonel's escape +had come merely by happy chance. He was no party to contriving it, of that +I never doubted, but it did look like a contrivance. We had been at the +"Rising Sun" for six hours or more. Stone, the nearest head-quarters of +Cumberland's forces, was only nine miles south of it, yet no attempt had +been made to follow the fugitive. No, thought I again, that's wrong. Weir +was sent on his track and actually found him. But this was as useless, so +it seemed, as sending twenty dragoons, hundreds being available, to +reinforce a thousand stout horse. There was no proportion between the ends +proposed and the means adopted. + +If the handful of dragoons were not a reinforcement, it was a pursuit of +us, and this posed another problem. Why had the pursuit been allowed to +flag all the afternoon and evening, to be taken up again far on in the +night? What fresh fact, if any, had determined it? I could think of none, +nor, on reflection, was one wanted, since both Master Freake and Jack had +last night witnessed to the worn-out state of Brocton's horses. +Consequently his dragoons would have been sent after the Colonel earlier +had they been fit. Their coming, when fit, proved their anxiety to retake +him. Therefore he was not allowed to escape, and the conclusion of my +argument hit its major premise clean in the teeth. + +"Oliver, my boy," said I to myself, "say a bit of Virgil and go to sleep. +These matters are beyond you." + +I picked on a passage and started mumbling it to myself. It was a lucky +hit, for when I had in solemn whispers rolled off the great lines in the +sixth Aeneid which foretell the work and glory of Rome, I thought of my +Lord Ridgeley, thiever by cunning process of law of most of my ancient +patrimony, and his blackguard son, my Lord Brocton, lustfully hunting the +proud, gracious woman beneath, and I said grandiosely to myself, "Rome's +destiny is thine too, Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, and these betitled +scullions are the proud ones you shall war down." + +The notion was so soothing that I fell asleep again. + +I have leaped over uninteresting but by no means unimportant events. We +were staying the night at a wayside hostel, called the "Red Bull," +situated at the point where a cross-road cut the main road. We were still +in Staffordshire, a matter on which Margaret had laughingly placed the +utmost importance, though an urchin, standing by the rude signpost, could +have flung a pebble into Cheshire. Houseroom was of the narrowest, and I +was tucked away in the attics, in a room I had to crawl about in +two-double, walking upright being out of the question. It was the grown-up +daughter's room, and she had been bundled out to make place for me, a fact +I did not learn till it was beyond need of remedy. The lass had a good +pleasant woman to mother, but her father, the host, was an +ill-conditioned, surly runt, whose only good point was a still tongue. + +Margaret was in the room below, and her father next to her along a narrow +gangway. From my attic I got down to this gangway by means of a staircase +hardly to be told from a ladder. The gangway, just past the Colonel's +door, became a little landing whence three or four steps led down to a +larger landing, from which one could mount up to the other and +corresponding half of the house or descend to the entrance hall with which +the various rooms of the ground floor connected. + +I awoke again in a dim dull dawn. Tired of these bouts of wakefulness I +got off the bed--for I was lying full-dressed even to my boots--and crept +softly to the window. I would keep watch and ward for Margaret, as a true +knight oweth to do. Then, if my obscure misgivings were unfounded, I +should at any rate have done my duty. + +There had been a slight fall of snow, enough to cover the ground and +bring everything up into sharp relief. My window was a dormant-window, its +sill being about four feet from the eaves. I flung it open, careful not to +make a sound, pushed out head and shoulders, and took stock. + +I dipped my fingers in the snow and found there was near an inch of it. +The "Red Bull" stood back from the road, and on each side of the inn +proper, outhouses and stables jutted out to the wayside. Drawn up under a +hovel on the left was a huge wagon piled with sacks, probably of barley +bound for Leek, a town renowned for its ale. + +Without was silence and stillness, as of the grave, and it was nipping +cold, but my mind was happily busy, having so many delicious moments to +live over again. If by some unhappy chance I never saw her again and lived +to be a hundred, I should never tire of my memories. She had as many +facets as Mr. Pitt's diamond, as many tones as the great organ in +Lichfield Cathedral. To know her had enriched my life and opened my mind. +What Propertius had said of his Cynthia, I repeated to myself of my +Margaret, _Ingenium nobis ipsa puella est_. 'My' Margaret! Well, it +did her no harm for me to think it, and, after all, the sly, silly +babblings of my under-self could be shouted down by the stern voice of +common sense. + +Here, under the stress of a new force, my thoughts flew off at a tangent, +and I said to myself, "Bravo, Romeo! You shall find me a rare Juliet." + +I had, indeed, much ado to keep from laughing aloud, as my situation was +delicious, not to say delicate. For, on a sudden, noiselessly as the beat +of a bat's wing, two feet of ladder had shot up above the eaves, and even +now an ardent lover was hasting aloft, dreaming of lispings and kissings +to come. I mustn't frighten him too soon or too much or he'd drop off, but +as soon as he was fairly on the slope he should sip the sweetness of lips +of steel. So I crept back, got a pistol, and stood to the left of the +window. + +I waited till his body darkened the room and then took a furtive look at +him. It was no village lover climbing up at peep of dawn to greet his +lass. It was one of Brocton's dragoons, one of the five who had been at +the Hanyards. + +In a twink I shot him. Without a word, he slithered down the tiles, +leaving a mush of blood-red snow. His right leg slipped aslant between two +rungs of the ladder, and his body, checked in its fall, swung round and +dangled over the eaves. + +In the room was a large oaken clothes chest. I dragged it to the light, +tilted it on end, and jammed it into the gable of the window, which, +luckily, it fitted completely, and so blocked any further attack from the +roof. Snatching up my weapons, I tumbled down the ladder, only to hear the +heavy tramping of feet upstairs. Standing by Margaret's door, I waited +until the head and shoulders of the first man came in sight. He carried a +lantern, and its yellow rays lit up for me the ugly face of the sergeant +of dragoons. I fired my second pistol at him, crashing the lantern to +pieces. Down he went, whether hit or not I did not know. In the darkness I +heard the rush of a second man who came on so fearlessly and fast that he +was far into the passage before I met him with a fierce thrust of my +rapier. I thrilled with the zeal of old Smite-and-spare-not as, for the +first time, I felt the point of my rapier in a man's body, and drove it +home with a yell. Down he went too, with a gurgle of blood in his throat, +and Margaret, coming out of her room, stumbled over his body as she raced +after me along the passage. + +The Colonel was at the stair-head before me, but there was, for the +moment, no work for him. The enemy had tumbled noisily downstairs into the +hall, and were collecting their scattered wits after their first rout. To +my regret, the raucous cursings of the sergeant showed that he had not +been killed and apparently not even hit. + +"God damn ye!" he yelled. "Ten of you driven back like sheep by a raw +youth. I'll settle with ye for it. Think I picked ye out of the stews and +stink-holes of London to stand this? There isn't one of ye with the guts +of a louse. I'll take the skin off the ribs of you for this, damn ye, and +most of your pimp's flesh along with it!" + +"What sort of guts was it brought yow tumblin' down so quick?" put in the +surly voice of the landlord. "Yow cudna 'a come any faster if yer blasted +yed 'ad been blown to bits instead of my lantern." + +Some of the men laughed at this, whereon the sergeant blasphemed enough +to make a devil from hell shiver. He cowed the dragoons, but the innkeeper +only growled, "A three-bob lantern blown to bits! Fork out three bob!" + +"I'll have him if I have to blow the house to bits!" vociferated the +sergeant. + +"Fork out three bob!" repeated the host. + +Not a word had passed between us on the stair-head, and now, at the sound +of preparations for a fresh assault, the Colonel took each of us by the +arm and led us into his room. + +"The stair-head cannot be held against fire from the opposite landing," +he whispered. + +When inside, he locked the door, and I helped him pile the bed on end +behind it, heaping all the other furniture against the bed-frame to hold +the mattress and bedding up against the door. Margaret, at a brief word of +command, had meanwhile kept watch through the window. + +"That's a fair defence," he said contentedly. "What are these devils?" + +"Brocton's dragoons," said I. "I've settled two of them, one on the roof +and one in the passage." + +"Good lad! Ten of 'em would be long odds in the open; here we ought to +have the laugh of them. Load your pistols! Damme, it's a bit chilly. +Fortunately there's some warm work ahead." + +He stamped up and down the room, swishing his arms round his body, and +stopping every now and again to make some trifling change in our hurriedly +contrived barricade. Margaret stood by quietly at the window, and when I +had reloaded my pistols, I joined her there. + +The ladder had been shifted and now lay along in the snow. There, too, +lay the body of the dragoon I had shot, crumpled up in his death-agony. A +brood of owls were clucking and cluttering about under the hovel, and +there, too, leaning against the rear wheel of the wain, were a lumpish +wagoner and our surly host. The one was stolidly smoking, the other was +holding the battered lantern out at arm's length, and I could, as it were, +see him growling to the lout at his side, "'Ew's to fork out for this'n?" +A girl went towards them from the house, circling, with averted head, far +round the dead dragoon, bearing them from the kitchen a smoking jug of ale. + +"In England," said Margaret, "snow adds the charm of peace and purity to +the countryside. There's never, I should think, enough of it to give the +sense of utter desolation and deadness that it gives one in Russia." + +"It's so uncertain with us," was my reply. "I've known a whole winter +without a snowflake, and I've walked knee-deep in it in May." + +The Colonel stopped his marching and swishing and came to the window. + +"Don't bother, Madge," said he. "We'll pull through. Hallo, I didn't see +yon wagon last night." + +He took out his snuff-box and, hearing the noise of the enemy in the +corridor, walked with it in his hand across to the door. He tapped his box +with accustomed preciseness, but I, a step behind, having lingered for a +last look into Margaret's eyes, heard him mutter, "Damn the wagon!" + +"Ho, there within, in the King's name," shouted the sergeant. + +"Ho, there without, in the devil's name," mimicked the Colonel. + +"I want speech with Colonel Waynflete," shouted the sergeant. + +"Then, seeing that Colonel Waynflete cannot at the moment give himself +the pleasure of slitting your ruffian's throat, you may speak on," was the +reply. + +"You and your daughter may proceed on your way unharmed if you surrender. +It's only Wheatman the farmer, now with you, that I want." + +He could be heard all over the room to the last syllable, and Margaret +quickly left her place at the window and came towards us, but the Colonel +in a stern whisper ordered her back. "How dare you leave your post! Watch +that wagon!" She crimsoned and returned. + +"If Master Freake were here, Oliver, I think he would remark that there +was no market for colonels to-day," said her father to me with a wry +smile. He gave the lid of his snuff-box a final tap, opened it, and held +it out to me. In the sense of the term known to fashionable London, he was +not a good-looking man, but as he stood there, waiting gravely while I +took my pinch, he had the irresistible charm of the highest manliness. + +"Do you agree, Colonel?" bawled the sergeant. + +"I do not," he shouted, and took his snuff with great relish. + +"By God," and now the sergeant roared like a wounded bull, "I'll have you +all in ten minutes." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Here, I say, you +Wheatman, do you agree?" + +"Certainly," said I, "I'll come at once." And I should have gone, there +and then, but for the Colonel, who, as I laid a hand on the nearest piece +of our barricade, promptly said, "I've only one way with deserters," and +levelled a pistol at my head. + +"For Margaret's sake, sir," I pleaded in low tones. "Let me go!" She had +flown like a bird across to us, and so heard me. + +"I had hoped you thought better of me, Master Wheatman," she said coldly, +and went back to her watching. + +The sergeant heard, or at least understood, what had been said in the +room. We heard him say, "You know your job. Fifty guineas for Wheatman, +dead or alive. Any man who touches the girl will be flogged bare to the +bones." Then we heard him walk off along the corridor. + +The dragoons without made no attempt on the door, and we joined Margaret +at the window. Hardly had we got there when half a dozen dragoons dashed +out of the porch and ran for the road. The Colonel flung the window open +and emptied both his pistols at them, but they zigzagged like hares and +the shots appeared to be thrown away. In the road they halted, formed a +line in open order, and levelled their carbines at the window. All three +of us moved aside, the Colonel tugging Margaret with him to the right +while I hopped to the left. + +"Take it easy, Oliver," he said very good-humouredly. "Until they think +of the wagon we're safe enough on this side. These walls would almost +stand up to a carronade." + +With a clash the first bullet came through the window and knocked a huge +splinter off a bedpost. There were six shots without, and six bullets +spattered in a small area opposite. + +"That's quite good shooting," said the Colonel. "Much better than I +expected from such poor stuff." + +I told him what Jack had said about the mixed quality of Brocton's +dragoons. These good shots, I explained, were picked men off the Ridgeley +estates, probably gamekeepers and bailiffs. + +"Very like," he said. "They're used to shooting but not to fighting. +Rabbits are more in their line." + +There was no stir in the passage, and I wondered what the job was these +men had in hand. The fusillade at the window was kept up unceasingly, +generally in single shots, sometimes in twos and threes. The barricade +took on a ragged appearance. I occupied my mind in thoughts of Margaret. +She was in the corner, beyond her father. + +The bullets had by now nearly cleared the window of glass, fragments of +which covered the floor of the room. Through the cracking and spluttering +we at last heard the noise of a wagon moving. The Colonel and I leaped up +and peered round the edge of the window. It was being pulled by two +horses, and was shifted till it was exactly opposite the window, and to my +surprise some twelve feet distant. The sacks made a firm platform level +with the window-sill. Flush with the window it would have made an +admirable means of attack, but why the space between? + +While the wagon was being put in position, there was a cessation of +firing. We saw the six dragoons from the road climbing on to the wagon, +while as many again joined them from the inn. The Colonel said, "Now's our +chance!" and fired carefully. One man, who was poised on the rear wheel, +fell into the road and hopped round to the back of the wagon holding his +right foot in his hand; another, already mounted, sprawled full length on +the sacks. + +"That's the way," he said, with much satisfaction, and stepped aside to +reload. "See if you can improve on it." + +By this, under orders from the sergeant, two or three dragoons were +creeping under the wagon to fire from behind the wheels. I dropped a man +standing at the horses' heads and then, in the nick of time and on second +thoughts, made sure of the mare and hit her in the neck. She squealed, +kicked, and plunged, and the other horse sharing her fears, they began to +drag the wagon off. The sergeant and two or three men leaped at them and +managed to quiet them, and then took them out of the traces to save +further trouble of the sort. The Colonel, meanwhile, having reloaded, +brought down another dragoon with one shot, and ripped open a sack with +another. It was barley. + +For perhaps a minute the window had been as safe as her corner, and +Margaret had been quietly watching the scene. Now, with seven or eight men +lying on the top of the sacks, with a stout row of them piled in front as +a bulwark, it was time for us to run to cover again. This time, of her own +accord, she came my side, and nestled beyond me in the nook between the +wall and my body. + +The men in the passage still made no sign. + +"Slids, Oliver," said the Colonel, "I can't see this ugly devil's game +yet, but, whatever it is, you came near to spoiling it. Damme, it was a +good idea to pepper the horse. Curse me! Where were my fifty years of +soldiering that I couldn't think of it?" + +"I suppose it comes from my being--" + +The sweetest and whitest fingers in the world closed my mouth, and +Margaret, thinking that I was on the verge of backsliding, whispered in my +ear, "The readiest-witted gentleman in England." + +I tingled with the joy of her touch, and turned to her so that I might go +on into the coming fight with her last shade of emotion burnt into my +memory. A stream of lead poured through the window, but the spluttering of +bullets on the walls of the room had no more effect on me than the +pattering of hailstones. + +"May I finish my sentence, madam?" + +"Not as you intended, sir." + +"I can't go back on old Bloggs' teaching, madam." + +She pouted and frowned, both at once, and the Colonel bawled through the +noise of the fusillade, "Being what?" + +"Fond of Virgil," roared I back again. + +Margaret laughed. Could a nightingale laugh, it would laugh as Margaret +laughed then. + +Before the music of it died away the sergeant showed his hand, and death +at its grizzliest grinned through the window. A great mass of damp, +smouldering straw, lifted on pikels, was thrust into the window-frame, +filling it completely, and thick wreaths of dense, foul smoke eddied into +the room, while through the straw the rain of bullets poured on, smashing +and splintering on walls and ceiling, door and barricade. + +The Colonel slashed and poked at the straw with his rapier. Telling +Margaret to crouch on the floor, I crawled on my belly and fetched the +bed-staff, which stood in its accustomed corner of the chimney-piece. It +made a much more serviceable tool for the job, and I flung it across to +the Colonel, who seized it and worked it like a blackamoor till he was +almost the colour of one, and had, to judge by his voice and demeanour, +got almost beyond his German in his rage. Asking for Margaret's +handkerchief, I tied it loosely round her mouth, my heart near to bursting +as I looked into her calm and patient face. Then I lay down flat and +wormed out into the room and, after a hard struggle, wrenched off one of +the rods which carried the rings of the bed-curtains. I remember that, as +I lay there, writhing and struggling, I counted the bullets, eleven of +them, as they spattered about me. However, I got back to Margaret's side +untouched, and poked and thrust and slashed to make a hole near her face +between straw and window-frame. + +Our efforts were practically useless. The straw was cunningly fed from +below, and the pall of smoke was now so heavy and dense that the fringe of +it was settling down on Margaret's tower of yellow hair, and as I watched +the rate at which it was falling, I knew the end was coming. The Colonel +had worked with the energy of despair to tear down the vile enemy that was +killing us by inches, and now suddenly collapsed and fell like a log to +the floor. Margaret would have crawled to him, but I kept her by main +force against the wall while I wriggled out of my coat. + +"We have one chance left, Margaret," said I. "Your father is only +overcome by the smoke--see, there's no sign of a wound about him--and his +fall is a godsend. Give me your other handkerchief and lie down flat, face +to the floor and close to the window, and listen for my next instructions." + +She did so without a word. I wrapped my coat loosely about her head, and +before I could close it in the smoke cloud was settling down on her, even +as she lay. I was nearly done for, but she was safe for a few minutes. +Lying full length on the floor, under the window, I tied her handkerchief +to the end of the curtain-rod, thrust it through the straw, and waved it +about as vigorously as I could. + +The sergeant's voice rang out. The firing ceased. The foul masses of +straw were removed. Then the scoundrel came forward and leered up at me. + +"Do your terms hold good?" I shouted. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Colonel Waynflete and his daughter will be left at liberty to go their +way, if I surrender?" + +"Yes," he said. + +"Then in one minute I'll be with you," said I. Stepping inside the room, +I first of all pulled the Colonel to the window, tore loose the clothes +round his neck, and laid his head on the window-sill, in the good sweet +air. Then crawling to Margaret, I unwrapped the jacket, and said briefly, +"Force some of Kate's cordial down your father's throat. Goodbye!" + +I returned to the window, clambered out, hung at arm's length, and +dropped to the ground. Striding up to the sergeant, I said carelessly, +"Your turn this time, sergeant. To-day to thee, to-morrow to me--it's +neater in the Latin but you wouldn't understand it--and all Brocton's +dragoons shan't save your ugly neck." + +"Where the hell's your coat?" he demand fiercely. + +A cool question, indeed, after trying to suffocate me, but it was never +answered. The air was on a sudden filled with the weirdest row I had ever +heard. It was as if all the ghosts in Hades had suddenly piped up at their +shrillest and ghostliest. This was followed by a splutter of musketry, and +this again by loud yells. Looking round I saw a swarm of strange figures +sweep into the yard, half women as to their dress, for they wore little +petticoats that barely reached their knees, but matchless fighting men as +to their behaviour. On they came, with the pace of hounds, the courage of +bucks, and the force of the tide. + +It was the Highlanders. + +The sergeant fled into and through the inn and, with the men from the +corridor, got clean away. Not a man else escaped. Half the dragoons on the +wagon were picked off like crows on a branch. The rest, and those in or +about the yard, got their lives and nothing else barring their breeches, +and that not for comeliness' sake but because they were useless. Every man +jack of them, in less than five minutes, looked like a half-plucked +cockerel, and their captors were wrangling like jackdaws about the plunder. + +I glanced at the window. To my relief, the Colonel was already sitting +up, pumping the sweet air into his befouled lungs, and Margaret smiled +joyously and waved her hand to me. I was waving victoriously back to her +when my attention was forcibly diverted by two Highlanders, who collared +me, intent on reducing me to a state of nature plus my breeches. There was +no time to explain, neither would they have understood my explanation. One +of them, a son of Anak for height and bulk, already had his hands to my +pockets. Him I hit, as hard-won experience had taught me, and he fell all +of a heap. His fellow was struck with amazement at seeing such a great +beef of a man put out of action so easily, and stood gaping over him for a +while. Recovering himself, he snatched a long knife out of his sock and +made for me murderously, but I had meantime fished out a guinea and now +held it out to him. He took it with the eager curiosity of a child, looked +at it wonderingly, made out what it was, and then ran leaping and frisking +up and down the yard, holding it high over his head, and shouting, "Ta +ginny, ta ginny, ta bonny, gowd ginny!" + +I was saved further trouble by the approach of one of the officers, or, +to speak with later knowledge, chiefs, of these wild warriors. He informed +me in excellent English that he had heard the firing, seen my parleying at +the window and my subsequent surrender, and desired to know the meaning of +it all. + +"The gentleman at the window," I explained, "is Colonel Waynflete, +travelling to join Prince Charles. The lady is his daughter, and I am +their servant, by name Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. These King's men, +belonging to my Lord Brocton's regiment of dragoons, attacked us; we +refused to surrender, and the rascally sergeant in command smoked us out. +I pray you, sir, to run the wagon up to the window that I may hand them +down, since the door is heavily barricaded." + +It was done immediately, and he and I ran up to the window together. + +"You young dog," said the Colonel. "You surrendered after all." + +"In strict accordance, sir, with military usage, I used my discretion as +commander of the party." + +"Slids!" His grey eyes had the old laugh lurking in them already. +"Commander of the party?" + +"There were only Mistress Margaret and I left," said I. + +"And the peppermint cordial," put in Margaret. + +So in sheer wantonness of joy we sought relief in bantering one another. +Then I introduced the chieftain, who had stood there silent and graceful, +a fine figure of a man, finely and naturally posed, and mutual compliments +and thanks passed between us. Yet in that first minute, with Margaret and +the Colonel perched on the sill, and the Highlander and I standing on the +sacks of barley, I saw another thing happen, for the big things of life +come into it with the swiftness of light and the inevitability of death. A +chieftain proudly climbed the wagon; a bond-servant humbly handed Margaret +down. As was fair and courteous, and suitable to my real position, I let +him do it, and aided the Colonel, who was as yet somewhat shaky. After +seeing him safe down, I rushed up again and recovered our weapons and my +coat. Down once more, I was getting into my coat when Margaret, who was +talking to the Highlander, looked at me and said quietly, "Pray, Master +Wheatman, fetch me the domino from my room!" + +She said it simply and mistress-like, and of course I shot off to do her +bidding. I supposed, as I went, that it was the white snow all around that +had brought out the blue in her eyes so vividly. + +In the inn I found the host, the lantern still dangling from his finger, +notwithstanding his greater woe, and his pleasant, placid wife weeping +bitterly. Of the original twenty guineas of the Major's, I now had only +four left, and these I thrust into her hand as I passed, and told her to +be comforted. + +From my shooting the dragoon on the roof to my running upstairs for the +domino was in all not more than twenty minutes. I skipped over the man who +had fallen to my maiden sword. He was lying between the door of the +Colonel's room and that of Margaret's, and opposite one of the doors on +the other side of the passage. Darting into Margaret's room, I recovered +the domino. + +I was only a moment, but in that moment some one opened the door in the +passage against which the man lay and so brought him into the light, and I +could not help taking a look at him. + +My heart stopped with the horror of it; my whole being fell to pieces at +the agony of it. I remember running from it as from the gates of hell. I +remember reeling on the stairs. I remember a headlong fall. I remember no +more. + +It was Jack. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +IN THE MOORLANDS + + +I was in bed, there was no doubt about that, and a strange sort of bed +too, for it moved lightly and deliciously through the keen, open air like +the magic carpet of the Eastern tale. The bedposts at my feet were most +curiously carved into life-like images of warriors, so life-like, indeed, +that when the one on the right turned its shaggy head and spoke to the one +on the left, I was not shocked and scarcely surprised. Bed it was, +however, for mother's soft, smooth hand was on my cheek, and under the +balm of its touch I went off to sleep again. + +When my eyes opened again, the mists had cleared out of them and I was no +longer in the land of shadows. The carven bedposts were Highlanders; the +bed was a litter slung between four of them; the touch was hers. Somebody +spoke, the Highlanders came to a halt, and Margaret bent over me. Her face +was pale, grave, and anxious. + +"Are you better, Oliver?" she whispered. + +"As right as rain," I answered, pushing my new trouble behind me and +speaking stoutly because of the whiteness of her face. + +"Try to sleep again. You've had a bad fall, and there's an ugly cut in +your skull." + +"Indeed, I'll do no such thing," was my reply. "I don't want carrying +like a great baby, and I do want my breakfast. I'm as empty as a drum." + +"Can you stand?" + +"Sure of it, and also hop, skip, jump, and, above all, eat and drink with +any man alive. So, if you can make these men-women understand you, tell +them I'm very grateful, but I've had enough." + +The four tousled warriors were easily made to understand what I wanted, +and, stout and strong as they were, welcomed the end of their labours with +broad grins of satisfaction. They lowered me to the ground, and +immediately Margaret's hands were outstretched to help me to my feet. But +for the black death between us, it would have been new life indeed to see +the colour and sunshine creeping back to her face, and to hear her +whispered "Thank God!" + +My head was bumming and throbbing, but nothing to speak of. The gash was +behind and above my right ear, so I must have somersaulted down the +stairs. Margaret, as I learned later, had bathed and bandaged the wound, +and after my recovery of consciousness, it only gave me the happy trouble +of persuading Margaret that it gave me no trouble. + +I stamped and shook myself experimentally, took a few strides, and jumped +once or twice, Margaret watching me as curiously and carefully as a hen +watches her first chicken. + +"Do mind, Oliver!" she said. "It bled horribly, and you'll start it again." + +"I believe I needed a blood-letting," said I. + +"Should you ever need another," she said crisply, "I hope you'll take it +in the usual way. How did it happen?" + +I had steeled myself for the inevitable question, and so answered +ruefully, "I must have tripped over the domino." + +"If it were not your mother's I would never wear it again," she said, +plucking the skirt of it into her hand and shaking it as if it were a +naughty child. "I thought you would never come round. For nearly an hour, +I should think, you looked stone-dead. Then you just opened your eyes, but +closed them before I dared speak, and lay so at least another hour. You +have given me such a fright, sir, that, now you are up and about again, +I'm beginning to feel I have a grievance against you." + +"I'm sorry, madam," said I, very soberly. + +"Now you're laughing at me, sir," was the brisk reply. + +The word made me shiver. "Laughing"--over Jack's body! Margaret was in +her stride back to her mistress-ship again yet her eye changed instantly +with her mood when she saw me wince. Indeed, her mind flashed after my +mind like a hawk after a pigeon, but I dodged the trouble by looking +casually around to examine our whereabouts. + +We were following a track down a dip in an open moorland. Across the +shallow valley, and climbing the slope ahead of us, was another small body +of Highlanders, whom I took to be our scouting party. The sun was a dim +blob in the sky, and I saw from its position that our direction was +easterly. A joyous hail from behind made me spin round, whereupon I saw +the Colonel on Sultan and the young Chief on the sorrel turning the brow +behind us. It took them a few minutes to trot down to us, and before they +reached us four more wild warriors, our rear-guard apparently, came in +view. One of them was my son of Anak, astride Margaret's mare, and so +looking more gigantesque than ever. + +"Good morning, commander!" was the Colonel's greeting. "Slids! But I'm +glad to see you on your feet again. How's the head?" + +"It still bumbles a bit," said I, "but, truth to tell, I'm thinking more +of my breakfast than my head. I'm as empty as a drum." + +"It's a guid prognostick to feel hungry after sic a crack o' the head," +said the chieftain, smiling, and I thought with a twinge what a handsome, +wholesome sight he made. + +"I'm another drum," said the Colonel, "but deuce take me, Oliver, if I +know how we're to be filled. Madge would have us start off with you at +once, quite rightly too, and we'd neither bite nor sup before we took the +road." + +"And where were you taking me?" cried I. + +"To the doctor's," explained the Colonel. "There's one in a village +tucked away somewhere among these hills, and we've a lad on ahead to guide +us. Colonel Ker, who commands the Highlanders who rescued us, gave us our +friend here, Captain Maclachlan in the Prince's army, and a great +chieftain among his own people"--here the chief and I bowed to one another--"and +a dozen or so of his stout men as an escort. Two plaids were knitted +into a litter, a log of a man named Wheatman was bundled into it, and off +we started breakfastless, as I said before." + +"I'm very grateful to you, Mistress Margaret," said I. + +"Don't be silly!" she answered very sharply. "It is no praise to tell me +I acted with common decency. And you weren't bundled in!" + +"I was not praising you, madam," I retorted, quick as ever to return like +for like. "I was thanking you, and I venture, with respect, to thank you +again." + +"Bother old Bloggs!" she said, suddenly all of a glow. + +"Bloggs? Who's Bloggs?" asked the Colonel, plainly enjoying the fun. + +"A rascally schoolmaster," she explained, "who flogged Oliver into a +precision of speech which I find most trying. But I must not miscall the +dear old man, for I stole his supper." + +"I wish he'd flogged him into precision on a staircase," said the +Colonel. "Damme, I am hungry." + +"I'm thinking there'll be a dub of water in the bottom yonder," said the +chieftain, "and Mistress Waynflete shall, if she will, take her first meal +Highland fashion." + +As I firmly declined to be carried another yard, the Highlanders unmade +my litter and resumed their plaids. In the trough of the valley we found a +streamlet of clear sweet water, and our repast consisted of a handful of +oatmeal, of which every clansman carried a supply in a linen bag, stirred +in a horn of water. It was not our Staffordshire notion of a breakfast, +but it was better than nothing. + +"Water-brose is a guid enough thing at a pinch," said Maclachlan to +Margaret, "guid enough to take a big loon like yon Donald to London and +back." + +Donald, it appeared, liked an addition to it, notwithstanding his chief's +praise of it, for he was taking a long pull from a leather bottle. This, +he explained, was usquebaugh, "ta watter of life," and the spice of poetry +in the description tempted the Colonel and me to try a dram. The Colonel +probably had had worse drink in his time, but even he made no comment. I +would almost as lief have had a blank charge fired into my mouth. + +While we all took our brose, and Maclachlan squired Margaret, the Colonel +told me how it had happened that the Highlanders chanced to come to our +rescue in the very nick of time. My own trouble is to get my tale straight +and simple, and I have no intention of making a hard task harder by trying +to interweave with the threads of my own story a poor history of these +important days. Mr. Volunteer Ray saw much more of these things than ever +I did, and the curious reader may turn to his fat, little, brown volume +for particulars. He was on the other side, and is too partial for a +perfect historiographer, but the account of things is there, and +reasonably well done too. But as what happened to Margaret, the Colonel, +and me, happened because of the campaign of the rival armies, I must boil +down what the Colonel told me if I am to make my tale clear. The Colonel, +to his credit, as I think, was so enthusiastic over all matters military +that he was rather long-winded in his account, and, in like fashion with +our housewifely Kate, it behoves me, so to speak, to make a jar of jelly +out of a pan of fruit, which is easier done with crab-apples than words. + +According to the Colonel, one of the master maxims of the military art +is, "Find out what the enemy thinks you are going to do, and then don't do +it." My Lord George Murray, the Prince's chief adviser in military +matters, had acted on this plan, and had given the go-by to the Duke of +Cumberland in grand style. At Macclesfield, the traveller to London had +choice of two high roads, one through Leek and Derby, and the other +through Congleton and Stafford. Leaving the Prince at Macclesfield with +the bulk of his men, Murray had pushed with a big force as far as +Congleton on the Stafford road, and the news of his advance had made +Cumberland withdraw all his northerly outposts to his head-quarters at +Stone. It was the last body of horse, routed out of Congleton, which we +had watched from the pines last night, racing in fear and disorder back to +the main of their army. Before daybreak Murray had sent on a force of +Highlanders under Colonel Ker towards Newcastle, to maintain the illusion +that the Stafford road was the one the Prince would take, and the vanguard +of this force, under Maclachlan, had saved us at the "Red Bull." Murray +himself was marching from Congleton across country to Leek, while the +Prince was marching thither also from Macclesfield. Murray would be there +first, and did not mean to wait for the Prince, but to push on as far as +possible towards Derby. We, too, were bound for Leek, where we should be +safe at last, and the end of the Colonel's explanation came, not because +he had said all he could have said, but because Donald was yelling to the +clansmen in preparation for our retaking the road. + +Maclachlan accepted with alacrity an offer I made to go ahead and join +our advance. He ordered Donald to accompany me, giving as his reason: "For +he kens the English fine when the spirit of understanding is on him, and +ye'll easy get it on him by raxing him a crack in the wame, same as ye did +back yonder at the yill-house." + +The Highlander maintained the expression of a wooden doll throughout this +explanation, but, as I leaped hard after him across the brook, I overtook +a grin on his face that promised well for my future entertainment. + +"She pe recovert," he said. "Tat was a foine shump." + +Before I could reply Margaret was upon us. + +"The mare is quite frisky. She thinks me a mere _fardello_ after +Donald. You're sure you're all right, Oliver?" + +"So near right, madam, that I beg you not to worry about me further," +said I. + +"Worry about you or worry you?" + +It hurt me to have her go so chilly all of a sudden, but I replied +frankly, "Both. It does indeed worry me to have you breakfastless in these +wilds through my doings." + +"Yes," she said, smiling down on me, "I ken fine the distinction between +water-brose and ham and eggs." + +"We are still in Staffordshire," I said cheerily, "and I'll go ahead and +see what I can do for you. Now, Donald, your best foot first!" + +He and I started ahead again, leaving her waiting for the rest of the +party, detained by some explanation on the Colonel's part of the military +aspects of the lie of the land. + +"There's a wheen foine leddies wi' ta Prince, Got bless him," said +Donald, "but when yon carline gets amangst 'em she'll pe like a muircock +amangst a thrang o' craws. She'll ding 'em a'." + +I expected that Donald would cherish ill will to me for my blow, but in +this I was wrong. So far from bearing me a grudge, he quite obviously +liked me for it. He had a fist, or nief, as he called it, nearly as big as +a leg of lamb, and almost the first thing he did when we were alone was to +hold it out, huge, dirty, and hairy, and put it alongside mine. He +scratched his rough head in his perplexity. + +"At Gladsmuir," he said, "'er nainsell did take ten Southron loons wi' +'er own hant, wi' nobody to help 'er, an' now one callant had dinged 'er +clean senseless wi' nothin' but a bairn's nief." + +"It wasn't clean fighting, Donald," said I. "Nothing but a sort of trick. +If you were to hit me fair and square I should snap in two like a carrot. +Tell me how you captured the ten men!" + +It was a longish story, at any rate as he told it, in quaint uncertain +English, intermixed with spates of his own Gaelic as he got excited over +the account of his prowess. One of them was an officer, and Donald +finished up by ferreting out of his meal-bag a magnificent gold watch, +lawful prize from his point of view, taken out of the officer's fob. + +"Ta tam t'ing was alife when I raxed 'er out of 'is poke," he said, "but +'er went dead sune after. She can 'ave 'er for a shillin'." + +He had no idea, nor could I make him understand, what it was and what +purpose it served. When it had run down for want of winding, to his simple +mind it had 'died.' He pushed it into my hand as indifferently as if it +had been a turnip, and I promised to pay him at Leek, for my pockets were +empty again and Margaret had the bag. + +"'Er nainsell wad rather 'ave a new pair o' progues," said he. "And what +for does anybody want a thing tat goes dead to tell ta time wi'? T'ere's +ta sun and ta stars, tat never go dead." + +As we walked rapidly we overtook our party soon after settling the matter +of the watch. The plough-lad who had been pressed as guide told me we were +near the road to Leek, and I let him return. We dropped down to a rough +road running our way, and a mile or so along it the roofs of a village +came in sight, and we halted till the main body came up. + +"What is it, Oliver?" asked the Colonel. + +"Breakfast, sir," said I. + +We marched into the village in military array. At our head strode Donald, +stout of heart and mighty of hand, with two pipers skirling away at his +heels, and the clansmen stepping it out bravely two abreast behind them. +Margaret came next, with me at her mare's head, and the Colonel and +Maclachlan brought up the rear. + +Our arrival created as much stir as an earthquake. The Highlanders, in +twos and threes, swarmed into the houses and ordered their unwilling hosts +to prepare them a meal. That it was war I was engaged in was, for the +first time, brought clearly home to me when I saw a fearsome Highlander, +with claymore, dirk, and loaded musket, posted at each end of the village. +A touch of ordinary human nature was, however, added, when the children, +fearless and happy in their ignorance, sidled up to the sentries and +stared at them as eagerly as if they had been war-painted Indians in a +travelling show. + +At first, we, the gentry for short, intended to seek accommodation in the +inn, poor and shabby though it looked, and Donald was ordered thither to +give instructions. The Colonel and the chieftain rode along the village to +observe how things were going, and this left Margaret and me together, and +spectators of a delightful little passage. For as Donald approached the +inn-door, the hostess, a sharp-nosed, vixenish woman, charged at him with +a very dirty besom and routed him completely. Truth to tell, Donald, who +had the sound, sweet nature of a child, had all the natural child's +indifference to dirt, but even he, long-suffering in such matters as he +was, had to stop to scrape the filth out of his eyes. This gave me the +chance of making peace, and I went up and explained that we should pay for +everything like ordinary travellers, good money for good fare. + +"Oh aye!" she said. + +"Jonnock!" said I. + +"You're a Stafford chap," she asserted. + +"I am," I agreed, "and I'll see you done well by." + +That settled her, and Donald was settled too, for his immediate wants +were satisfied by a large glass of brandy, and those more remote by a +bucket of water and a towel. + +"Gom!" said the virile little woman to me, "a wesh'll do him no harm. +I've got the biggest gorby of a mon," she went on, "between Mow Cop and +the Cocklow o' Leek. He's gone trapesing off, with our young Ted on his +shoulders, to see yow chaps march into Leek. There's about a dozen on 'em +gone, as brisk as if they were goin' to Stoke wakes. Fine fools they'll +lukken when they comes whom to-nate." + +As it happened, the "Dun Cow" was after all left to Donald and the +pipers. When I rejoined Margaret, she said, "Pray help me down, Oliver, +and we'll find the doctor, and have him dress your head. And, once out of +Donald's sight, I'll have the laugh that's nearly killing me to keep +under." + +I helped her down, and said, "Never mind doctor! That fine old church +yonder must be well worth looking into." + +"You will mind, sir," she flashed. She beckoned to Donald to take charge +of her mare, and then waylaid a passing girl, running from one sentry to +the other, and got her to show us the doctor's. + +So we started thither, and as we went she said, "Really, Oliver, you are +inconsiderate at times." + +"Nonsense," said I. "It's my head." + +I was angry, not at her words, for I knew she did not mean them, but at +my inability to see what the fascinating jade was driving at. + +"Inconsiderate," she repeated firmly. "You'd be content to be introduced +to the Prince with a great swathe of dirty, blood-stained linen round your +head, regardless of how it reflected on me." + +"Reflected on you?" I echoed blankly. + +"Yes. We shouldn't match. I suppose dear old Bloggs was a bachelor?" + +"He was," said I, resigning the contest in despair. + +The doctor lived in a fair-sized stick-and-wattle house. He was a dapper +little man, with a cleverish, weakling cast of face, and was all on the +jump with the turn things had taken. He had just opened the door to us, +and was eyeing us uncertainly, when the Colonel and the Chief, returning +on foot from their inspection, having left their horses to be baited under +the watchful eye of a Highlander, stopped beside us. + +"Are you the doctor?" asked Margaret promptly, as if to forestall any +backing out on my part. If I could have joyed at anything, I should have +been overjoyed at her keenness in having me seen to. + +"Yes," he said, but very softly. + +"Then please attend to this gentleman's wound," she said. + +"Is he a rebel?" he asked, so loudly that he might have been talking to +some one across the street, and instinctively I turned round There, sure +enough, was the parson, a pasty, pursy, mean-looking rogue, coming across +to see what was doing. + +"It's his head I want you to attend to," retorted Margaret, "not his +politics." + +"I doctor no rebels," said he, louder than ever. + +"Man," intervened Maclachlan, taking a pistol from his belt, and +emphasizing his words by gently tapping its barrel on the palm of his +hand, "if in ten minutes yon head isn't doctored to pairfection, it's your +own sel' will be beyond all the doctoring in England." + +"It's against all law," said the doctor. + +"I'm the law in this clachan to-day," said Maclachlan simply, still +tapping away with his pistol. Hearing the parson behind, he turned round +and added drily, "And the gospel." Hereupon the parson's face took on the +appearance of ill-made, ill-risen dough, and he turned and slipped off +with creeping, noiseless steps, like a cat. + +"Come in," whispered the doctor. + +"Ye're a man o' sense," said Maclachlan, and pushed his pistol back into +his belt. + +We all passed into the hall, and the doctor made the door carefully. + +"That damned pudding-face is a Whig," said he, "and so, of course, he's a +Justice. The Squire's a Whig, and he's a Justice. Here am I, well-reputed +in the faculty, and my wife coming of the Parker Putwells, one of the rare +old county stocks--none of your newfangled button-men and turnip-growers--and +I'm no Justice, because I'm a Church-and-King man of the old +school." + +"They went out of fashion with flaxen bobs," said I. + +"Come on, my tousled macaroni!" said he. "There's nothing the matter with +the inside of your head at any rate, though the outside looks as if you'd +been arguing with the parish bull." + +"This is a verra fine house," said Maclachlan slowly and slily. + +"A mere dog-kennel," said the doctor, "considering she's a Parker Putwell." + +"And I'm thinking," said Maclachlan, very thoughtfully "that there'll be +some guid victuals in the pantry and, mayhap, a gay wheen bottles of right +liquor in the cellar." + +"Oh aye!" said he, taken aback. + +"Then I'm thinking we'll e'en have breakfast here and try their merits. +And if it's a guid ane, I'll see you a Justice, whatever that may be, when +the King enjoys his own again. A Maclachlan has spoken it." + +The doctor went to an inner door and bawled, "Euphemia," and a +discontented wisp of a woman answered his call. + +"Madam and gentlemen, my wife, Mistress Snooks, born a Parker Putwell. +Mistress Snooks, like me, will bow to your will with pleasure, nor will +you mislike her table, I assure you. Now, my buck, let's see to this crack +in your head." + +He took me into his druggery, unwrapped the bandage, and examined my wound. + +"So ho!" said he, "a right good sock on the head. How did it happen?" + +I told him. + +"It's lucky for you, my buck," he said, "that you've got a baby's flesh +and a tup's skull, and some one had the sense to wash the cut clean as +soon as it was done." + +He set to work and made a good job of it, with a pledget of lint and +strips of plaister, and meanwhile I speculated as to why, in all these +bottles and jars and gallipots, neither nature nor art could contrive to +store a drug magistral for the blow that had riven my heart asunder. + +"That's better than two yards stripped off a wench's smock," he said at +last. "And a damnably fine smock too, you lucky rascal." + +He twittered a snatch of ribaldry that made my foot twitch in my boot. +Behind his back, I pocketed the priceless relic, dank and red with my +unworthy blood, and followed him back to the company. + +We made a longish stay, and fared well at his table. The doctor was a +good enough fellow in himself, but his wife, a salt, domineering woman, +lived in the light of the Parker Putwells, and he, poor devil, in the +shadow they cast. He was playing a double game too, for whenever the +red-elbowed serving-wench came into the room, he roared his dissent from +our lawlessness, and drank to the King with his glass over the +water-bottle as soon as she went out. Once when she brought us a rare dish +of calvered roach and, with wenchlike curiosity, lingered to pick up a +crumb or two of gossip, we had a snap of comedy, for, in his play-acting, +he would take none till Maclachlan, to keep up the farce, thrust a pistol +at his head and forced him. Whereupon the maid, in plucky fashion, threw a +cottage loaf at Maclachlan and took him fairly in the chest. The doctor, to +his credit, rose to protect her, but she braved it out. She would, she +averred, lend the thingamyjig a better petticoat than the one he'd got on. +"If he mun wear 'em," she added, "he mought wear 'em long enough to be +dacent." The doctor bustled her out at last, palpitating but triumphant. + +Maclachlan had sprung up like a wild cat when the missile hit him. +Luckily he was flustered by the bouncing of the loaf on the table and off +again clean into Margaret's lap, or the ready trigger would surely have +been drawn in earnest. Then Margaret promptly took the edge off his anger +by saying with menacing sweetness, "I'm sorry the fun has gone further +than was desirable, but I will not have the girl blamed for what was in +her a brave deed, nor suffer any unpleasantness here on account of it. +Pray be seated." + +This ended the matter, and Maclachlan, with a wry smile, settled down +again to his fish. + +"It was a verra guid thing after a' said," he explained, "that it wasna +my mouth, for it was an unco' ding. I'm half hungry yet, and, to be sure, +breakfast and broillerie gang ill together." + +It was well said, and Margaret rewarded him with a smile and engaged him +in merry conversation. The Colonel, who had kept silent during the +trouble, now plied the doctor with questions about the surrounding country. + +"It's a poor biding-place for a Parker Putwell," he replied. "If there's +a drearier or lonelier stretch in England than the moorlands of Leek, I +would not care to see it. I go miles on end about it to visit my sick +folk, and mostly in a day's riding I see nobody but a stray shepherd, a +flash pedlar twanning his way across country with his gewgaws, and now and +then a weaver scouring the outlying cottages for yarn." + +When the meal was over Maclachlan insisted on paying for it, and bestowed +a shilling on the loaf-thrower. In theory, I found, the clansmen paid for +what they had, and Donald, being quartermaster to the party, was very busy +discharging his obligations up and down the village. The only cause of +dissatisfaction, but that not a slight one, was his Scots mode of +reckoning, in which a pint was near on half a gallon, while his shilling +was a beggarly penny. It always took a whirl of his dirk and a storm of +Gaelic to convince a cottager of his accuracy, but he got through at last, +and we reformed our order of march and started for Leek. + +This time I took the sorrel and Maclachlan marched beside Margaret on her +mare, for the Colonel wanted to give me an account, derived from the young +Chief, of the Prince's marchings and victories. The Highlanders being +astonishing foot-folk, and the Colonel being full of analogies and +digressions, the tower of Leek church came in sight before we had got the +Prince out of Edinburgh. + +A halt was called to discuss what was to be done. The Colonel dismounted, +and we followed his example. Margaret, I noticed, coloured slightly as +Maclachlan lifted her down. She had been as cool and unfluttered as a +marble image when she lay in my arms. Maclachlan was for marching on into +the town, and the doubt on the Colonel's face rather nettled him. + +"The considerable town of Manchester," he said, "was entered, and in part +seized, by one Scots sergeant and his drummer. Of a certainty near a score +of Maclachlans can intake yon little clachan." + +"Of a certainty," retorted the Colonel, "Margaret and one of your pipers +would be enough if we only had the townspeople to consider. There's no +game much easier than walking into a lion's den when the lion isn't there, +but it's pure foolishness to play the game till you're sure he's not at +home." + +"Lion! What's to do here wi' lions?" asked Maclachlan. + +"As I'm only a volunteer," answered the Colonel, "and not yet a man of +authority under the Prince's commission, which you are, I must ask your +leave to explain that our getting into Leek is a military problem. I grant +ye it's a little problem, since it wouldn't matter a pinch of snuff if we +marched in and every one of us was promptly hanged in the market-place. +But I undertook to make Oliver here a soldier, and, damme, what you want +to do isn't soldiership, and he'll only learn soldiership by mastering the +little problems first." + +"Like sums at school," said I, whereat Margaret laughed aloud. + +"Damme, you young rascal," stormed the Colonel, "if I'd got my commission +in my pocket, I'd put you under arrest for impertinence." + +"With great respect, sir," I answered, "I beg to say that I understand +that, at a council of war, the youngest officer gives his opinion first." + +"That's bowled you over, dad," said Margaret cheerfully. + +"Damme, I'll bowl you off to Chester to-night," he retorted. "As sure as +a gun's a gun, you'll ruin Oliver. Stop grinning like an ape, sir, at that +jade's tricks, and listen to me." + +"I'm thinking, sir," said Maclachlan, "that in my present responsible +position I would greatly value your observations on the matter in hand." + +This was a clever remark so far as the Colonel was concerned, for he +would have talked to a viper about soldiering, but Maclachlan did not see, +and I did, the delicate little mouth that Margaret made. + +"My observations are simply these," said the Colonel: "We do not know +where Murray is, we do not know where the Prince is, and we do not know +where the Duke of Devonshire is. Any one of them may be in Leek." + +"And who may be the Duke of Devonshire?" asked the chief. "I've never +heard of him." + +"One of Geordie's dandiprats, who has got together a big force of militia +at Derby, and who, if he's any pluck, may have forestalled us all by +marching to Leek." + +"It's sair awkward," said Maclachlan, completely taken aback by the news. + +"It is so," said the Colonel, "and seeing that Oliver knows the rules and +procedures of courts martial, he shall deliver his judgment first." + +"Sir," said I, bowing low, "I would, with respect, suggest...." + +I got no further, for Donald, who was within a yard of my elbow, suddenly +bounded into the air and let off a most astonishing yell. Then he ran up +and down, like a foxhound after a lost scent, gabbling away in Gaelic. The +clansmen put their hands to their ears, and their ears to the wind, +listening intently, whereon Donald ceased his capering and chattering, and +called out to us, "Ta pipes! Ta Prunce! Ta pipes! Ta Prunce!" + +"Whist, ye auld fule," said the chief. "Ye're enough to deafen a clap of +thunder." + +"I'm telling it ye, ta pipes! ta Prunce!" he babbled, and then fell +still, and we all listened. + +The clansmen must have had ears like the bucks of their own mountains. I +could hear nothing but the soft sough of the breeze as it swept o'er the +rank grass of the moorlands, but they, Maclachlan as madly as any of them, +yelled their slogan, and the pipers filled their bags and blew fit to +burst. Like was calling to like across the wilds. + +Margaret glowed with enthusiasm, and the Colonel's eyes sparkled as he +handed me the box for the customary pinch--a courtesy, I found by later +experience, he conferred on very few. Indeed, in my new trouble, the +kindness and affection of the Colonel were becoming my best stand-by. + +"The great game's afoot, Oliver," he said. + +"And we'll play it to the end, sir." + +"Good lad," said he. + +"Donald, ye auld skaicher," said Maclachlan, "get your bairns agait. The +Maclachlans are going to be last, where they should be first, at the +intaking of a town, but the Prince, God bless him, will think me balm in +Gilead when he sees the reinforcements I bring." + +He was in high feather, and it interested me to watch in another the +tonic effect of Margaret's presence. I took no advantage of my capacity as +her body-servant, but leaped into my saddle and sat the sorrel like a +wooden image as he dodged about to get her horsed again and ready for the +road. He was, indeed, fit to serve a queen; the Highland fashion +marvellously well set off the clean, strong lines of his body, and the +single eagle's feather in his bonnet was the right sign to be waving over +him. The top-dog spirit was fast oozing out of me, and I sat there sourly +dusting the skirts of my poor country-tailor-made coat. + +The men were lined up on the rough moorland track, Donald at their head, +and the two pipers filling their bags and fingering their chanters behind +him. Maclachlan took Margaret's rein and began to lead her mare up the +slope of the path, but the Colonel called to him and diverted his +attention, and she stopped beside me. + +"Oliver," she said, "you must let me have your coat for half an hour when +we are settled in the town, so that I can mend it. The holes in it make me +shiver every time I see them." + +"You are very kind, madam," said I, still dusting away, lest she should +see how my hand trembled. + +"Oliver!" + +She forced me to look at her now, she spoke so peremptorily, and when the +blue eyes met mine they were so clear and intent that I feared she might +read my secret. + +"Smile!" + +Smile! I was to smile, was I? And when our Kate got the news at the +Hanyards, the smile would die out of her eyes for ever, for Jack, dear, +splendid Jack, was the weft that had been woven into the warp of her being. + +"I do not smile to order, madam," said I. + +She flicked the mare sharply and cantered up to the level, whither +Maclachlan raced after her with the speed of a hound. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE + + +On our way into the town a thing happened which greatly shook me, being, +as I was, nothing in the world but a small farmer who had never seen the +wars. At a point where the rough road cut across a fold in the moorlands +we saw, half a mile to our right, a herd of cattle being lashed and +chivvied away to the remoter crannies among the hills by a throng of +sweating hinds and fanners. Had it happened our way, thought I broodily, +Joe and I would be there among the like, saving our own stock from the +marauders. Donald looked at them longingly, but our haste brooked no +delay, and besides, as he put it to me later, "It's a puir town, but, +after a' said, better than a wheen lousy cattle, for I've come by a fine +pair o' progues for a twa-three bawbees." + +Leek was as full of Highlanders as a wasp-cake is of maggots, and still +they were swarming in. Donald and the clansmen, indifferent to the crush +and hubbub, clave a way for us to the market-place, where, on the +Colonel's advice, they were dismissed to beat for billets. I then took +charge and led my companions across to the "Angel," where the throng was +so dense that they might have been giving the ale away. + +To get the horses stabled and baited was easy enough, for few of the +Highlanders rode south, although it was different going north again. Then, +leading my companions into the yard, I pushed into the inn and, by good +hap, lighted on the host, nearly out of his five wits with trying to +understand one word of English in a score of Gaelic. + +"Hello, surry!" said I. + +"Gom!" said he, "Staffordsheer at last." + +"I've heard a lot about Leek ale," said I. "Draw me a mug of it!" + +He brought it in a trice, and his face beamed with honest pride as he +said, holding it up between my eyes and the light, "What do you think o' +that for colour and nap? Damn my bones! None of your London rot-gut, +master, but honest Staffordsheer ale. Damme, you can fairly chew the malt +in it." + +"I'll bet you a guinea I've drunk better," said I, with the aleyard at my +lips. + +"I'd bet on my own ale," said he, "if the 'Angel' was full of devils let +alone petticoats. An', as between friends, y'r 'onour, win or lose, dunna +tell my missus you've 'ad better ale than ourn." + +I drank off his ale and said judiciously, "No, I haven't. That's the best +ale I've ever drunk," and handed him his guinea. + +"This'n's a bit of fat along with the lean," said he, spinning the guinea +up in the air, and, countrywise, spitting on it for luck. "Be there owt I +can do for y'r, sir? A gentleman as knows good ale when he drinks it +shudna be neglected for a lot of bare-legged savages that 'anna as much +judgment in beer as a sow 'as in draff." He leaned towards me and added in +a whisper, "I'm giving 'em bouse I wudna wesh my mare's fetlocks in, an' +they're neckin' it as if it was my rale October." + +"It was thundery in the summer," said I gravely, whereat he grinned +intelligently. + +"Y'r 'onour's up to snuff," said he. "Be there owt I can do for y'r, sir?" + +"Fetch the missus," said I, "and we'll talk." + +The hostess came. Her cheeks were brown as her own ale, and we talked, +nineteen to the dozen, for at least ten minutes. + +In the end I snapped up the best parlour overlooking the square for +Margaret's use, and bedrooms for each of us, paying a substantial +bargain-penny, for Mistress Waynflete had handed me back the bag of gold +Master Freake had given me. It would be necessary, I found, to oust two or +three bare-knees who had marked them for their own, but that could easily +be done, if, as was unlikely to be the case, they were sober enough at +night to crawl bedwards. These arrangements made, I pushed out and fetched +in Margaret, who was very grateful for what I had done, and went off to +her room, while we three men took our stand on the bricked causeway and +watched the doings in the square. + +We saw two or three battalions swing into the square from the +Macclesfield road, and the Colonel scanned them keenly, and, as I thought, +anxiously. Even to my untrained eye they were a mixed lot; the bulk of +them, to be sure, were stout, active, well-armed fighting men, who marched +in fair order, six or eight abreast; but there were numbers of oldish men +and boys among them, and many were but indifferently armed. + +"What do you number all told?" asked the Colonel. + +Maclachlan answered in French. There was now no mistaking the gravity in +the Colonel's face, and he took snuff so thoughtfully that, for the first +time, he forgot me. + +"Excuse me, my dear lad," said he, recovering himself and thrusting out +the box towards me. "I hope there's a tobacco-man in the town who sells +right Strasburg. I'm running out, and rappee and Brazil are mere rubbish +to the cultivated palate." Then, looking around the square, he added +cheerily, "Quite a show for the townsmen!" + +Just in front of us, standing on the edge of the gutter, was a little, +ancient, distinguished dame, who had been watching the scene with quick, +avid eyes. She turned her fierce, scornful face up to the Colonel, and +said, "Yes, sir! You are right. It's a show, just a show, for the +townsmen. Yet I remember that, thirty years ago, the fathers of these +spiritless curs were as eager for the cause as is the eagle for his +quarry." + +"So, madam," said the Colonel very gently. + +"So, indeed," she returned. "But now, in their accursed grubbing for +money, they have rooted up every finer instinct, and they think only of +their tradings in silks with the Court ladies of London. Better a fine +gown sold to godless Caroline than a stout blow struck for God-anointed +James." + +She was beyond doubt a lady of quality, but fallen on poverty and now, +worst of all to her, on evil, faithless days. As she stopped, short of +breath with her sharp speaking, for she was very ancient, a mean lout of a +man edged himself up against her to get a better position for watching the +arrival of another body of clansmen. In a fierce access of rage she struck +him with the ebony stick on which she leaned and, almost hissing the words +at him, said, "Back to your buttons and your tassels, Thomas Ashley, and +get grace by thinking on your worthy father!" + +The man sidled off, and she continued, addressing the Colonel, "In the +fifteen his father was one of us, and suffered worthily." + +"For what, madam?" I asked. + +"For the cause," she replied. + +"For what particular service to the cause, madam?" I persisted. + +"He was zealous against the schismatics, sir," she said boldly. + +"Madam," was my reply, "if the zeal of any one of us, townsman or +clansman, takes the same form this day, I shall certainly wring his neck. +We can fight for Charles without burning chapels." + +"Smite-and-spare-not would subscribe to that doctrine," said Margaret, +thrusting her way gently between the Colonel and me, and hooking a hand +round an arm of each of us. Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered +merrily, "_Push of pike and the Word_," and then looked so winningly +at me that the black shadow lifted, and I smiled back at her. + +And now the craning of necks at the angle where the great road curved +into the square, betokened something out of the ordinary, which turned out +to be the arrival of the Prince's life-guards. They were splendid, +well-mounted fellows, clothed in blue, faced with red, and scarlet +waistcoats heavy with gold. With them were the leading chiefs of the army, +and I heard Maclachlan reeling off their names and qualities in the +Colonel's ear. The guard, in number some sixscore, formed three sides of a +square and sat their horses, while one of the leaders proclaimed James and +took possession of the town. + +The cheers of the clansmen died away, only to be renewed more loudly and +proudly when another column swept into the square. Here, indeed, were men +apt for war and the battle, six abreast and a hundred files deep, with a +dozen pipers piping their mightiest, and a great standard flinging to the +breeze its proud _Tandem triumphans_. At their head strode a tall +young man, very comely and proper, with a frank, resolute, intelligent +face. He was dressed in the Highland fashion, with a blue bonnet topped +with a white rosette, a broad, blue ribbon over his right shoulder, and a +star upon his breast. The thronging thousands of clansmen burst into +thundering volleys of Gaelic yells, the waiting leaders bared their heads +and bowed, and I knew it was the Prince. + +After a short consultation with his intimate counsellors, Charles walked +almost directly towards us, making, as it seemed, for the fine house that +neighboured the "Angel." + +Even the townsmen, as he approached, raised their hats and cheered a +little, for he was on sight a man to be liked. When I hear sad tales of +him now, I think of him as I saw him then, and as I knew him in those few +stirring days when hope spurred him on, and the star of his destiny had +not yet climbed to its zenith. I come of a stock that sets no value on +princes, and I would not now lift a hand to snatch the Stuarts out of the +grave they have dug for themselves, but it is due to him, and, above all, +due to the chiefs and clansmen who followed and fought and died for him, +to say that the Bonnie Charlie I knew was every inch of him a man and a +prince to his finger-tips. + +Maclachlan darted out and dropped on his knee before Charles, who, with +kindly impatience, seized the shoulder-knot of his plaid, haled him to his +feet, and plied him with a throng of questions. At some reply made by the +young chief, Charles turned his eyes on us, and, easily picking out the +Colonel, made for him with eager outstretched hands. For his part, the +Colonel stepped clear of the crowd on the causeway and stood at the +salute. He was, I thought, the most self-possessed person in the square, +and, indeed, was taking a pinch of snuff as soon as the formality was +over, while Margaret was red and white by turns, and I shook at the knees +as if expecting the Prince, in the manner of old Bloggs, to call me out +and thrash me soundly. + +The joy of the Prince at being joined by Colonel Waynflete was overflowing. + +"My Lord Murray has talked of you," I heard him say, "until I felt that +you were the one man in England that mattered, and now here you are. I +must tell Sheridan and all of them the good news." + +He turned off and called to a group of men near him, and several of them +came up and were made known to the Colonel. After more handshaking and +chatting, the eager Prince caught the Colonel by the arm and was for +dragging him off into the house destined for his lodging, but the Colonel +in his turn resisted and led him towards Margaret. + +"My daughter, sir," he said, briefly and proudly. + +Off came the bonnet, and Charles bowed low and greeted her with very +marked courtesy. + +"Your prince, madam," he said, "but also your very humble servant. My +Court is a small one, and you are as important and welcome an addition to +it as is your distinguished father to my army. Swounds, Colonel," turning +to him with a merry smile, "I shall put a flea in his lordship's ear when +I see him at Derby. He never so much as mentioned your daughter. Man, one +might as well talk of stars and forget Venus!" + +"There is this excuse for him, sir," said the Colonel, very sedately, +"that on the only occasion on which my Lord Murray saw her, which was at +Turin in 1738, she was a whirlwind of arms and legs, long plaits and short +petticoats." + + +"Whereas now she--but I will reserve my opinion for the shelter of a fan +in a secluded corner at my next little Court." Then, very abruptly, fixing +his eyes on me, all of a swither, with my milk-stained cap in my hand, +"And whom have we here?" + +Whereupon, strangely enough, forgetting all courtliness, Margaret, the +Colonel, and Maclachlan fell over one another, so to speak, in telling the +Prince who I was. For a few seconds there was a gabble of introductions, +which made me feel hot and foolish. + +"One at a time," laughed the Prince, "and, of course, Mistress Waynflete +first." + +"Your Royal Highness," said Margaret, "this is my splendid friend and +gallant comrade, Oliver Wheatman." + +"Enough, and more than enough, for a poor Prince Adventurer. Give me but +the leavings of your friendship and comradeship, Master Wheatman, and I +shall be beholden to you. And now, excuse us, madam, I have much to say to +your father." + +"Sir," said I, "I crave a little boon." + +"You begin well," he said, and added, after a little laugh, "With all my +heart." + +"Here at hand," said I, "is an ancient lady who has faced this rough +crowd and this bitter weather to see the Prince of her heart's desire. She +is brave as a lion for you, but too modest to do more than stand and pray +for you." + +And then he did one of those princely things that made rough men willing +to be cut down in swathes for him. He strode up to her and seized her +trembling hands. + +"Nay, kneel not, dear lady," he said, putting an arm around her to +restrain her. + +"God bless your Royal Highness, and give you victory," she said brokenly. +"This is the hour I have prayed for daily these thirty years, and I thank +God for giving us a Prince so worthy of an earthly throne. The Lord shall +yet have mercy upon Jacob." + +"I thank God," said Charles, "for giving me a friend like you." + +His green plaid was looped up at his shoulder by a fine brooch, a +cairngorm set in a silver rim. This he took off, and pinned it on the +trembling woman's breast. + +"Wear this from me and for me," he said, speaking with great feeling. +Tears were standing in Margaret's eyes, there was a big lump in my throat, +and the Colonel was wasting precious Strasburg on the cobbles in the +square. When the Prince had pinned it there, he doffed his bonnet, bent +gracefully down, kissed her on the lips, and so left her. The standers-by +now cheered in earnest, and the ancient dame fell on her knees in prayer. +When she rose she plucked her robe around her, safeguarding her royal gift +in her withered hands, and was for timidly stealing away. + +"Madam," said I, "I think you are alone." + +"Yes, sir," she whispered. + +I offered her my arm, saying, "Allow me to escort you to your home?" + +The sharp eyes swept over me from my belt upward, and then, without a +word, she placed her arm in mine. I looked around to bow to Margaret +before starting, but she had disappeared. + +We soon reached her house or, rather, cottage, which was in a street +behind the west side of the square. She was too tottery, too dazzled, too +afflated to speak on the way thither, but, at the door, when with a bow I +was intending to leave her, she bade me, in a madam-like way that cut off +debate or refusal, to enter with her. + +Plain to the casual eye, it was the home of decayed gentility. Here would +be refined eating of a dinner of herbs, solaced by talk of prideful +yesterdays. You saw it in the few things that still kept their grip on the +past: on the wall an old, black painting of a knight in ruff and quilted +doubtlet; a pounce-box and a hawking-glove on the chimney-piece, and above +it an oval scutcheon, with a golden eagle _naissant_ from a _fesse +vert_. And hope was ever new-born here, but it was the hope centred in +the Virgin-Mother, posed in ivory over a wooden _prie-Dieu_. Nor did +I feel that I had shifted from my familiar moorings as I bowed my head +when she knelt in prayer. + +"Madam," said I, when, with a happy face, she rose and turned and thanked +me, "it is in your power to do me a great kindness." + +"I shall, then, most surely do it." + +"I ask you to pray for the soul of John Dobson." + +"He was your friend?" she said gently. + +"My friend from boyhood, madam, and this morning I slew him." + +There was silence for a space. Then she said, "I will pray daily for the +soul of your friend, and for you that God will have mercy upon you and +give you peace. We women, who can only pray, do not, I fear, realize how, +for our men, the facts of life seem to make havoc of our creeds." + +"You are right, madam," I said sombrely. "For me to-day there is no God +in heaven." + +"Yet the morrow cometh," she replied confidently. "It has come for me. My +mind goes back to the time when the evil began that our glorious Prince is +now uprooting. In eighty-eight, when I was a maid of some twenty Junes, +not uncomely as I remember myself in my mirror, though not comparable with +your sweet and splendid mistress, we, then the ancient Hardys of +Hardywick, gave our all and lost our all for the cause. Yon scutcheon then +hung in a noble hall. I have looked at it with pride and, God be thanked, +without regret, during nearly sixty years of loneliness and poverty, but I +shall die rich and friended in the possession of this." + +She lifted the brooch to her lips and kissed it, and then, poor soul, +broke into a fit of coughing that racked her thin frame. A comely +serving-woman rushed in to her aid, and together we seated her near the +fire and wrapped a shawl around her. She seemed as one who slept with +half-shut eyes and dreamed. + +"She's of'n tuk like this'n," whispered her woman. "As lively as a lass +at a wedding for an hour maybe, and then dreamy and dead-like for hours at +a stretch. She's seventy-six come June, but I dunna think she'll live to +see it, and to be sure, God bless her, I shall be glad to see her broken +heart at rest." + +She put a smelling-bottle to her mistress's nose, and bathed the white +lips with eau-de-Luce. + +"I love her no end," she said simply. + +It was time to go. I dropped on my knee and kissed the fair, thin, +wrinkled hand. At the touch of my lips she spoke again: + +"Good-bye, Harold, my beloved! The God of all good causes go with thee!" + +She was back in the long-ago with her lover at her knee, sending him off +to fight for the cause, and the ringless finger showed that he had never +come back. + +I stole out of the room with a mist in my eyes. + +When I got on the corner by the Prince's lodging, the first thing that +caught my eye was a calash drawn up in the middle of the square, with two +very elegant ladies in it, and a sprig of a blackamoor in green breeches +and yellow doublet at the horse's head. Margaret and Maclachlan were +standing by, and a merry rattle of conversation was going on between them +and the new-comers, though Margaret, her quick mind interested in the +vivid scenes around, kept turning her head to sweep the square with her +eyes. + +I had always felt and, for the most part I trust, observed the difference +between us, but it struck me now like a blow between the eyes. It was easy +to see that Margaret, for all her grey domino, was the mistress of the +gay, courtly group; easy, too, to catch the meaning of the eyes the +stranger ladies made at one another as they noted with amusement the young +Chief's infatuation. Well, he was there, and I was here, by right. I said +so to myself very savagely, that there should be no mistake about it, but +I must admit to a sour taste in my mouth as I pushed into a passing group +of clansmen, and then dodged behind a clump of ammunition wagons, and so +got into a side-alley unseen by those searching eyes. + +I came to an ale-house where I managed very well, for all that it had its +full share of clansmen stuffed into it, making a square meal of bread and +cheese and cold bacon, washed down with excellent ale. I made a point of +marking myself off as an Englishman by paying for my meal in the English +fashion. + +Sallying forth, and still avoiding the square, I roamed round the little +town, distracting my mind by forcing an interest in what was going on. The +Highlanders were happy, noisy, and full of confidence--not unjustly, for +so far they had played ninepins with the Royal troops. Everywhere they +were hard at it, sharpening dirks and claymores and furbishing muskets, +and such of their talk as I could understand was all of battle imminent. +In the churchyard I found a number of them practising shooting, with a +grand old cross as a target. They had chipped it somewhat already. I +cursed them roundly and then bargained it off at the price of a few +shillings. They turned their attention, with hopeful grins, to the brass +weathercock on the church tower, which I did not deem worth saving. +Moreover, it was a better mark, and good shooting was to be encouraged. + +I mooned around for an hour or so, very miserable. If my mind was idle a +moment, I saw Jack's body lying in the dim-lit passage and the calash in +the market-square. + +Tired of watching the Highlanders, I suddenly struck out for the "Angel," +intending to see how the horses were doing, a necessary task which I was +to blame for neglecting so long. I was going at a great pace along by the +shops on one side of the square and, in heedlessly passing a mercer's, had +to skip aside to avoid a finely dressed lady coming out of the door, with +the shopmaster, his nose nearly at his knees, bowing behind her. She was a +stranger to me and, moreover, I had my eye on the spot where the calash +had stood, so that, having clean avoided her, I was for striding on, but +she said sharply, "What do you mean by such conduct, sir?" + +I cannot remember any other occasion in my life when I have been so +completely taken aback. The elegant lady who stood there, a quizzing smile +on her face and a roguish twinkle in her eyes, was Margaret. + +"I've waited and waited your honour's convenience till I could wait no +longer," she said. + +There was still the delightful mock anger in her voice, but the smile and +twinkle changed their meaning, so to speak. At least I, who delighted to +watch the varying shades of expression sweep over her exquisite face, +thought so as I stood there, twizzling my cap in my hand, and feeling an +utter fool. + +"You cannot expect a perfect match in this light," she went on, plainly +enjoying my discomfiture, "especially as I have had to carry the colour in +my eye." + +"No, madam," said I desperately, having to say something, but not having +the faintest idea of what she was driving at. + +"I disclaim all responsibility if it's a bungle. It will be your fault +entirely. Your arm, sir!" + +I offered her my arm, into which she slipped hers, jammed on my wretched +hat, and together we made for the "Angel." Of course we must meet +Maclachlan, to complete my misery I suppose, and he was keen on joining +us, but Margaret disposed of him in a way that reminded me of Kate shooing +a turkey off from her feeding chickens. Arrived at the "Angel," she led +the way to her parlour overlooking the square, dragged me hurriedly to the +window, and undid the packet. From it she took a patch of cloth and a hank +of silk thread. These she first dabbed on my sleeve, and then flourished +before my eyes. + +"Quite a good match after all! Do they suit me, Oliver?" + +She was dressed in a cinnamon-brown joseph, buttoned at the waist, and +showing, above and below, an under-dress of supple woven material, creamy +in colour and flowered in golden silk. A hat of a military cast, made of +some short-napped fur and set off with a great white panache, half hid and +half revealed her masses of yellow hair. + +"You look perfect," I said emphatically. + +"For my Prince," she replied softly. "Off with your coat, and let me show +you what sort of a housewife I am." + +I did as she bade me, and she doffed hat and joseph. She set me +comfortably before the fire in an elbow-chair, and handed me a new pipe +and a fresh paper of tobacco, and insisted on my smoking. Then, sitting +almost at my feet in a squat rush-bottomed chair, with quaint bow legs and +a back like a yard of ladder, she set to work on the holes Brocton's +rapier had made in my coat. + +I felt very cubbish as I sat feeding my soul on the picture she made as +she bent over her stitchery. A rare hobbledehoy I was in my villainous +coat, but what I looked like in my shirt-sleeves, good linen enough but +home-made and with never a shred of cuff or ruff to them, was past +imagining. + +She was quite silent too, and though talk of any sort would have been +distasteful to me then, for the picture was enough, I could not help +remembering how she had rattled on with Maclachlan. Here was another +cursed deficiency. My conversation was as country-like and +poverty-stricken as my clothes. I had always ruled the roast at our market +ordinaries, where I was looked upon as a bit of a fop and a miracle of +learning, and even my farming was solemnly respected because I was so hard +and ready a hitter. Here, in a parlour and with her, so beautiful that +even her beautiful dress scarce attracted a passing glance, I was dull and +ill at ease. The only thing I did, except to look at her, was to let my +pipe out and light it again, time after time. + +"The man in the shop told me," Margaret said, "that was the best tobacco +that comes from the Americas." + +"I should think it is," said I; "I've never smoked better." + +"It gives you a lot of trouble," she answered, and stayed her stitching +for a moment to look at me. + +"Did you get some right Strasburg for the Colonel?" I asked. + +"No. Is he running short?" + +"Yes," said I. + +"And no marvel, either. He puts his snuff-box under his pillow, and when +I take him his chocolate of a morning, he takes a long, affectionate +pinch, and then says, 'Good morrow, sweetheart!'" + +I laughed, and then fell silent and wondered. While I had been loafing +about the town, she had been attending to my small whims and needs. + +And now, after a smart rap at the door, in flounced a sprightly, elegant +lady, very gay and very certain of herself. + +"What a charming, domestic picture!" she broke out. "I fear I intrude, +Margaret dear, but I'm going to stay. The girl is bringing up the tea, and +I'm positively dying for a cup and a sit-down. Of course this"--turning +gaily round on me, standing there like a great gawk, volubly cursing my +shirt-sleeves under my breath--"is the incomparable Oliver! Charmed to +meet you, sir!" + +I bowed, and Margaret said staidly, "Yes, my lady. This is Master Oliver +Wheatman of the Hanyards. Oliver, I have the privilege of introducing you +to the Lady Ogilvie." + +I bent in the middle again and gabbled something. It was suitable to the +occasion, I hope. + +Lady Ogilvie eyed me up and down carefully, much as I should overlook a +bullock I had a mind to buy. + +"When Davie left me at Macclesfield I told him I'd be guid, and I will be +guid, but I wish he hadn't asked me," she said. "Never mind! At Derby, +when we meet again, my promise will be lapsed, and I shall flirt with you, +sir, most furiously." + +"Really, my lady," I replied, "my knowledge of the art of flirtation is +merely rudimentary, but I always understood that it required two." + +"Naturally," she retorted, "that's its great charm." + +"I see my mistake now," said I, as if thoughtfully. Margaret sat with her +needle poised for a stitch, and waited. + +"You're learning already, you see! What is it?" said Lady Ogilvie. + +"One and a bit would suffice when your ladyship was the one," I said +boldly. + +Margaret laughed and resumed the swift play of her needle. + +"Indeed so, and I've struck sparks out of turnips in my time," she +replied, with much complaisance. "There's a glisk of intelligence about ye +now that was sair to seek when I came into the room. Men are like +diamonds, you must know, Margaret darling, all the better for being cut +and rubbed. I'll teach ye things, sir, at and after Derby, that is. Till +then I'm to be verra guid." + +The bringing in of the tea interrupted us. Over the cups, though Margaret +stuck to her work, there was gay talk about the main business of the +day--the supper and ball to come. + +"The men will simply rave over you, dear," she said to Margaret. "There's +only six of us, seven with you added, you see, for no town ladies wait on +His Royal Highness nowadays, and I'm danced off my feet. Maclachlan will +want you every time, and you'll be wise to have him as often as possible, +for he dances like a fairy. Davie's none so bad, but Maclachlan is just +grand. And the incomparable one," grimacing prettily at me, "will foot it +trippingly by the look of him." + +"I dance like a three-legged bear," said I, grim enough at having my +defects brought home to me. + +"Is it that you're telling me?" she replied. "Legs like yours and no +music in them! Well, well, I'll take you in hand, that's flat. At Derby, +of course." + +"Now, Oliver, pray attend to the simpler matters that I deal with," said +Margaret, cutting off the last needle of silk. "I've done the best I can +for you. Come and appraise my work!" + +She held the coat up by the collar, and I stepped forward and examined it. + +"Marvellous!" said I. "It's as good as new." + +Her ladyship screeched with laughter. "Oh, you courtier!" she said. "I +never saw anything better done at the Tuileries. Look a foot higher, you +rogue!" + +Still even there the job was neatly and thoroughly done, and I thanked +Margaret for it heartily. With my coat on, I brightened up, and indeed I +had need to, for most of their talk was in and about a world of which I +knew nothing. Thanks to Margaret's hints and half-lights, I did well +enough. + +There came a gentle rap at the door and then, without further ceremony, +the Colonel bowed in a visitor. In the twilight at the door there was no +seeing who the new-comer was, but as he stepped forward the full light +revealed him. It was Prince Charles. + +"Stir not, ladies, on your allegiance!" he said gaily. I rose, bowed him +into my chair, and stood behind him. + +"Oddsfish, as my great uncle used to say, I've come to save your life, +Master Wheatman!" + +"You need not trouble, sir," said I, "to save what is freely yours to +throw away." + +"Very well said, sir," he answered, "and I shall not forget it." + +"Good lad, Oliver!" said the Colonel, dipping for his snuff-box. + +"Still, I must prove my point!" said Charles, smiling merrily. "My Court +consists of precisely seven ladies and an unlimited number of gentlemen, +the latter, for the most part, fiery chiefs who slash off men's heads as +if they were tops of thistles. Yet here are you, sir, keeping two of them +all to yourself. And such a two! Lady Ogilvie, whose charms are without +blemish--" + +"Nay, sir," said I. + +"May I pull his ears, Your Highness?" asked her ladyship tartly. + +"You may," said Charles, "unless he proves his point. A Prince must be +just, you know!" + +"That's fair," said Margaret. + +"Of course," retorted Lady Ogilvie. "He'll be right if he says I've an +eye like an ox and a mouth like a frog." + +"Save your ears, Master Wheatman!" said Charles, grinning at me. "What's +the blemish?" + +"Davie!" said I. + +The Prince rocked with laughter, and her ladyship enjoyed it quite as +fully. + +"It's the smartest hit I've heard since I left Paris," said the Prince. + +"Sir," said I, "be good enough to explain. Who is Davie?" + +"Her ladyship's husband," he replied. + +"Damme!" I ejaculated. "I thought he was only an ordinary Scotchman." +Whereat everybody laughed. + +"A most delightful interlude in a heavy day's work," said the Prince. "I +am unfeignedly vexed, ladies, at having to rob you of so agreeable a +cavalier, but I need Master Wheatman myself." + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later the Colonel stood with me at the town's end to give me +my final instructions. I was on Sultan, with urgent letters in my pocket +and important work on hand. + +We took a pinch of snuff together very solemnly. Then he snapped his box, +rubbed Sultan's velvet nose, shook my hand, said good-bye gruffly, and +strode back townward. I cantered on into the open road and the night. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MY NEW HAT + + +Here was what I had dreamed of. Here was the dearest wish of my heart +gratified. I was twenty-three, and I had three-and-twenty's darling +equipment--a magnificent horse, a pair of unerring pistols, a fine rapier, +a pocket full of guineas, the memory of a woman's grace and beauty, and a +tough job in hand. The only material thing I really wanted was a new hat, +for yester morning's milk and subsequent bashings and bruisings had ruined +my old one. I had not bothered about it as long as it had bobbed alongside +the grey woollen hood of Margaret's domino, but, cheek by jowl with her +new hat, it had become an offence, and must be remedied. + +The black shadow flitted in and out of my mind. I was clean and clear of +all blood-guiltiness. I had struck for Margaret as he would have struck +for Kate. Fate had been too strong for us, but whatever penance life +should lay upon me should be paid to the uttermost farthing. I had this +comfort that, could Jack ride up to me now, there would be no change in +him. There would be for me the old hearty hand-grip and the boyish, +affectionate smile, just as when he had run in to me on the town-hall +steps. + +I had been commissioned by the Prince to do three things: first, to +deliver a dispatch to my Lord George Murray, wherever I should find him, +which would probably be at Ashbourne, twelve miles ahead along a good +road; second, to carry a letter to Sir James Blount at his house called +Ellerton Grange, somewhere near Uttoxeter; third, to make a wide circuit +west and south of Derby, picking up all the information I could as to the +feeling of the populace and the disposition of the enemy's forces, and to +report on this to the Prince in person at Derby at six o'clock the +following night. On this third commission the Prince and Colonel Waynflete +had laid great stress. An independent and trustworthy report was, it +appeared, of the utmost importance. + +Finally, as a dependent commission arising out of the first of the duties +imposed on me by the Prince, I bore a letter to my Lord Ogilvie from her +ladyship. She had summoned me willy-nilly to her room privily. + +"Tell Davie yonder that I'm very well and very, very guid," she said, as +she handed me the letter. + +"With infinite pleasure, my lady," I replied. + +"It will be true, ye ken," she asserted, as if there was a corner for +dubiety in her own mind regarding the matter. + +"Solemnly and obviously true, my lady," I agreed. + +"Oh, thou incomparable Oliver, I wish you were a lass," she said, lifting +her merry, girlish face level with mine, and putting a hand on each of my +shoulders. + +"Why, my lady?" I said, straightening at her touch. + +"Then you could give Davie this as well!" which said, she pecked lightly +at me with her sweet lips and kissed me. + +It had flustered me greatly, but she only laughed ringingly and +delightsomely as I backed out of the room. And when, door-knob in hand, I +made my last bow, she had wagged her finger at me for emphasis and said, +"Dinna forget to tell Davie I'm very guid." + +Good she was, as beaten gold, and she kept her spirits up to this high +pitch to the very end. You can read in Mr. Volunteer Ray's history of the +whole affair of the 'Forty-five' how, after Culloden, she was taken +prisoner while dressing for the ball which was to crown the expected +victory. + +I smiled a young man's smile as I thought of it. Experience was writing +some items on the credit side of my new account with life. I had met a +winsome lady of title and she had kissed me. Margaret, behind my back and +to a third party, had called me an "incomparable" something. What, I knew +not,--"servant" probably, but I cared not what. + +Mile after mile passed without incident of any kind until, at a second's +notice, I rode into a ring of muskets which closed round me out of vacancy +as if by magic. It was the outermost picket of the army at Ashbourne. I +gave the parole, "Henry and Newcastle," and demanded a guide to my Lord +George Murray's quarters. There came a Gaelic grunt out of the gloom; men +and muskets disappeared, with the exception of a single clansman, who +seized Sultan's bridle and led me into the town. + +The General was quartered at the "Swan with Two Necks," a very +respectable hostelry, where my first care was to have a cloth thrown over +Sultan, and to order for him a bucket of warm small beer with three or +four handfuls of oatmeal stirred into it. While this was adoing, and I was +awaiting a summons to his lordship's presence, I took a nip of brandy in +the public room of the inn, and over it amused myself by reading a crude +fly-sheet nailed on the wall, offering a reward of fifty guineas to anyone +giving information leading to the arrest of one Samuel Nixon, commonly +called 'Swift Nicks,' a notorious highwayman, six feet high, of very +genteel appearance, well-spoken, but a cruel, bloody ruffian with it all. +The Highlander interrupted my reading by beckoning me to follow him. +Upstairs we went, and he ushered me into a room where were two gentlemen +seated on opposite sides of a table on which were a small map and two +large glasses containing a yellowish liquid. + +The younger of them was of much the same general appearance as +Maclachlan, though by the look of him a simpler and sweeter man. The +other, a middle-aged, domineering man with a powerful face, looked angrily +at me as I handed him my dispatch. + +He read it impatiently, threw it down beside the map, and said, "They're +coming on to-night, Davie." Then, curtly to me, "Your name, sir?" + +"Wheatman of the Hanyards." + +"Hanyards? Humph! Are you an Irishman?" + +"No, my lord. Not even a Scotchman!" + +He glared at me, but his companion laughed, and said, "That's one under +your short ribs, Geordie!" + +"Damn the Irish!" cried Murray. "They're the ruination of the whole +business, Davie, and ye know it." + +"Of course they are," he replied, "but that's no reason for telling it to +an English loon who thinks less of a Scotchman than he does of a pickelt +herring." + +"That may be, my lord," said I to him, "but I think so well of one +Scottish lady that I'm proud to be her humble courier." And I handed him +his letter. + +"Man! man!" he said ecstatically, as he ripped it open, "ye're welcome as +sunshine in December. It's from Ishbel. God bless her pretty face!" + +He read the letter eagerly and then thrust it into his bosom. + +"I am, further," I went on, "entrusted with a message from her ladyship." + +"God bless her! Out with it, man, out with it!" + +"I was to inform you that she was very, very good," said I, soberly as a +judge passing sentence. + +"What do you think of that, Geordie Murray? Very, very guid! Eh, man, +isn't she a monkey? God bless her!" + +"I'll send the whole lot of 'em packing off back to Edinburgh," said +Murray. "Women are a nuisance on a campaign. Your Ishbel, be hanged to +her, wants a carriage all her own and another for her fineries." + +"Ye ken a lot about soldiering, Geordie," retorted Ogilvie, "no man more, +but ye ken less about soldiers than a lad of ten. At Gladsmuir I said to +MacIntosh, 'Let's get the damn thing over, Sandy, and be back to breakfast +wi' the leddies!' And we did." + +"You did so," acknowledged Murray. "Now, Davie, take our courier out and +feed him. I thank you, sir! You have ridden speedily. Your pace is faster +than your tongue." + +"My lord," said I, "although I am doing his Royal Highness such poor +service as lies in me, I am not yet duly acting under his commission and +authority." + +"What of it?" he asked. + +"Hence I am not an officer under your command, my lord!" + +"Excellent logic! And the therefore, my beef-eating friend, is....?" + +"That I would as lief knock your head off as look at you!" + +"When you are an officer," cried he, "by gad, sir, I'll teach ye the +manners of an officer. Till then, my birkie," rising and holding out his +hand, "guid luck to ye!" + +We shook hands heartily and so parted. + +"He's a grand man is Geordie Murray," said Ogilvie, as he led me to +another room across the landing. "Just a wee bit birsy, maybe, but these +damned Irish have got his kail through the reek. They're o'ermuch on his +spirits of late." + +All his other talk was of his lady, though he looked well enough after +me, and I made a good meal of the better half of a cold chicken, a cottage +loaf, and a tankard of poor ale. Ashbourne is noted, say the wise in such +matters, for the best malt and the poorest ale in England. + +I am overmuch English, as is often the case with us who live in the very +heart of England. The famous Mr. Johnson is a shire-fellow of mine, and +very proud I am of it, and reckon it among the greatest events of my life +that he has bullyragged me soundly for differing from him, and being +right, about a line of Virgil he had misquoted in my hearing. Like Mr. +Johnson, I love men and loathe dancing-masters, and these Scotsmen were +men indeed, my Lord Ogilvie, as I came to know later, one of the choicest. +He was a spare-built man, in years thirty or thereabouts, with a face all +lines and angles, and dotted with pock-marks. For a lord, his purse was +very bare of guineas, and nature had made up for it by giving him a belly +full of pride. For him, the Highland line had been the boundary of the +known world, so that his mind was a chequer-work of curious ignorance and +knowledge. + +From the first I liked him for his joy in his dainty lady. She was the +daughter of a cadet of a distant branch of the famous Bobbing John's +family, and had spent nearly all her life in France till, on a chance +visit to Scotland, she had been snapped up by Ogilvie. They were a +strangely matched pair, she from the gay _salons_ of Paris, he from +the misty mountains of the north; but mutual love had assorted them to +admiration, for the heart of each was sound as a bell. + +Between bites I answered questions as to how she had looked, what she'd +said, done, and so forth. + +"Was she wearing her brown riding-coat with the pretty wee shoulder +capes?" he asked. + +"No," said I, becoming more interested. + +"Or her creamy dress with the gold flowers all over it?" + +"No," said I again, smiling at my discoveries. + +"She's keeping 'em for London," he explained. "Gosh, man! She will look +divine in 'em." + +"She won't," said I, clipping away at the sweet bits still hanging on the +carcass of my chicken. + +"It'll take your logic all its time to keep six inches o' cauld steel out +of your brisket," he said very fiercely. + +"Never had better chicken in my life," said I, watching him out of one +eye--quite enough for any Scotsman. + +"Damn the chicken!" he roared. "Why won't she?" + +"Because she's given 'em away," I explained in my airiest tones. + +"The blue blazes of hell!" gasped his lordship. "Given 'em away, and they +cost me twenty pounds English! Given 'em away!" he whined, utterly lost +for words, "given 'em away! The callack's clean dawpit. Twenty pounds good +English money!" + +"Nothing like enough!" said I. "You'll be sorry it wasn't two hundred." + +Two hundred pounds English was, however, something too stupendous for his +mind to grasp, and the gibe had no effect on him. While I finished my ale +he chuntered away in his own Gaelic. + +"I'll mak' it up in London," he said at length, "but it'll be the deil's +own job." + +"It will indeed," I agreed, and drained my tankard dry. + +A look at my watch told me it was time to set about my second commission. +Sultan was brought from the stable, fit as a fiddle and eager to be going. +I examined my pistols, ran the tuck up and down in its scabbard, leaped on +Sultan, and asked for the Uttoxeter road. + +My Lord Ogilvie parted from me on the fairest terms, bringing me with his +own hands a great stirrup-cup, or "dock-an-torus," as he called it. + +"Man," said he, "I'm right glad to be acquent wi' ye. I was thinking I'd +gang all the way to London without coming across a man worth fighting, +much less friending, but I was in the wrang of it. Here's to ye!" + +"My lord," said I, "you match your sweet lady. Both of you have been +wondrous kind to a hard-hit man." + +We gripped hands, saluted, and parted. + +It was all but pitch-dark, and the moon was not due to rise for more than +an hour, but the sky was clear and the stars were out in masses for +company and guidance. Ellerton Grange was near Uttoxeter, and Uttoxeter +was a sizeable townlet just inside my own county, and some fifteen miles +from Ashbourne. The road was the usual cross-road, all of it bad and most +of it vile. I left the going to Sultan, who did the best he could, like +the gallant and experienced creature he was. There was nothing for me to +do except to keep a good look out and the north star just behind my right +hand. + +My mind was busy going over all the memories of the last three days. I +tried hard, but in vain, to skip the black part, the thought of which made +me flinch as if the branding-iron was white-hot against my cheek. Mentally +I saw double--Jack's red blood with one eye and Margaret's amber hair with +the other. As I rode I fought memory with memory, mingling gall and honey, +now mumbling broken prayers and now singing snatches of country +love-songs, and so got on as best I could. In the journey of life a man +pays for what he calls for. Life had given me what I wanted, and the price +thereof had been death. + +Not only was the night dark but the countryside was empty. I rode past +dim outlines of houses and through vague, dreamlike villages without +seeing a soul or hearing a sound. Once I saw a light ahead by the +roadside, but out it went as the rattle of Sultan's hoofs told of my +coming. It was no wonder, for these poor folk were living between two +armies and wanted neither, friend nor foe. For them it was only a choice +between the upper and the nether millstone. At last I came to a wayside +ale-house where lights were showing. I rode up, dismounted, ran the reins +over the catch of the shutter, and went in. + +In the low, untidy room I found a man and a woman, bent over a miserable +fire, with their backs to a table whereon were set out mug and platter and +other things useful for a meal. They rose to greet me, and their faces +told me that they were expecting some one and supposed that I was he. When +they saw their mistake, the woman stepped smartly in front of the man and +said, "Lord, sir, how you frighted us! What can I get for your worship?" + +"A mug of good mulled ale," said I. "Give me good mulled ale and a little +information, and you shall have a crown for your pains." + +I spoke pleasantly, having no need, as a mere passer-by, to do otherwise, +but if I had been obliged to have dealings with them, I should have begun +by distrusting them outright. The man was of the common sort of ale-house +keeper, ugly, beery, and stupid, and old enough to be the father of his +wife, as I call her on account of the wedding ring on her finger. She was, +for the place and post, a complete surprise, being a jaunty, townish, +garish woman, dressed in decayed finery. He would have slit my throat for +a groat, she for a grudge. They looked that sort. + +The woman went into another room, beyond the little bar where the +drinkables were stored, to get the spices for the mulling, and the man +shuffled grumpily after her. Hanging on the wall behind the bar was a +fly-sheet, the very same I had read in the "Swan with Two Necks" at +Ashbourne. + +"Swift Nicks" was a much-wanted gentleman, and evidently a tobie-man with +a wide range of activities. Out of mere vacancy of mind I walked near to +read the fly-sheet again, and, by a curious chance, among the drone of +words from the other room, the only one my quick ear could pick out +distinctly was "Nicks." + +This made me wary, and when the woman came out and busied herself at the +fire, and called me to see what a prime mull she was brewing, I stood over +her, to all intent watching the process but ready for anything. And not +without need, for her dirty husband crept softly out after her, thinking +to catch me unawares. I flashed at him like a jack at a minnow, wrenched a +wretched old blunderbuss out of his hands, and with the butt of it knocked +him sprawling back into the other room. + +The prime muller merely cackled with false laughter and went on with her +mulling. I fetched him in by the scruff of the neck, stood him up against +the bar, and said, "I think you're in for the soundest thrashing you've +ever had in your life." + +"Sarves yer right, sawney," said the woman. "Plase let him off, sir. He +thought yow was Swift Nicks." + +"Yow bitch!" he growled. "Yow set me on!" + +"Yow'm a ligger!" she retorted. "I towd yow the gen'leman was nowt like +Swift Nicks." + +"How do you know that?" I asked. + +"By the print," was the quick reply. "It tells yow all about him." + +I fetched the fly-sheet down, held it out to her, and said sharply, "Read +it to me!" + +I thought this would clean beat her, but she said, simply enough, "I +canna rade it mysen, but I've heard it read lots o' times." + +"Have you heard it read?" I asked the man. + +"Lots o' times," he echoed surlily, and I saw the woman's fingers twitch +as if she longed to furrow his ugly face with her nails. + +"Then why didn't you know?" + +I spoke to him but turned sharp on the woman, and saw hell in her face. +She was almost too quick for me, and answered fawningly, "The thought o' +the money made a fool on 'im, sir. Plase let him off. I've mulled th' ale +prime for her honour." + +This was true and I enjoyed it greatly. I sent the man out to rub Sultan +down while she prepared for him under my eyes a warm drench of ale and +meal. + +"Be y'r honour going far?" she asked. + +"That depends how far it is to Ellerton Grange. Do you know it?" + +"Oh aye, y'r honour. Sir James Blount lives there. It's three miles out'n +Tutcheter on the Burton road." + +"Is it a straight road to Uttoxeter?" + +"Half a mile on yow'll come to a fork. Tek the road on the right and just +ride after y'r nose. Fetch the drench, Bob!" + +She carried it off well, but I felt there was a deep strain of roguery in +her. Still, willing to part on a lighter note, I gave her the crown, +saying, "You deserve a better trade." + +"It's none so bad," she said. + +"And a better husband." + +"Oddones! D'ye think...." + +She stopped abruptly, plainly caught out for the first time. + +A minute later I was off again. At the fork Sultan made for the left, and +I had to pull him sharply to the right. The road got steadily worse, but +Orion was clear in view ahead of me, dropping down behind Uttoxeter, and I +pushed on. If a man is to turn back because of a bad road, he'll not +travel far in the Shires. Soon, however, there was no road at all, and I +was plump in open country. Sultan stopped and sniffed, and then turned his +head round as if to tell me, what I already felt was the truth, that I had +been an ass for not leaving it to him. + +"So ho! Sultan!" said I, patting his warm neck. "I deserve all you say, +my beauty! I've put you in for a nice job." + +The right road must lie somewhere to my left. I turned him that way and +he walked on suspicious and sniffing. Fortunately the moon had risen, and +the Jezebel's lie would only cost me a trifling delay. She would have lied +with a purpose, and I puzzled myself in trying to reason it out. In a few +minutes we came to the side of a spinney with a low wall of rough stones +cutting it off from the field. I was intently looking ahead, when on a +sudden Sultan swerved so powerfully that I rocked in the saddle. I +wouldn't have touched him with the spur, short of utter necessity, for a +fistful of guineas, and I soothed him, and then turned to look for what +had upset him. + +To be candid I swerved myself. Most of us in these days are pleased to +laugh at superstitions, provided we are in good company round a roaring +fire. I was here alone in a lonely field, at nine of the clock on a winter +night, and there, flittering and gliding through the spinney was a +something in white. Virgil believed in ghosts, and so did Joe Braggs, and +I, by oft reading the one and listening to the other, had preserved an +open mind. Apparently Sultan had his doubts, for he shivered and whinnied. + +I pulled his head round away from the ghost, drew out a pistol, and +watched the unchancy thing's movements. It was evidently meant for me, for +it made a slight turn and came straight towards me. Then my man's logic, +as Margaret twittingly called it, came to my aid. Gloomy as it was, I saw +the outlines of some steps by which the low wall could be crossed, and +ghosts, both my authorities being in agreement on this, were independent +of such purely human contrivances. So, waiting till the ghost was climbing +down on my side, I said sternly, "Stop, or I fire!" Whereon it heaved a +great sob and tumbled full length to the ground. + +I jumped down, slipped the reins over Sultan's head, and pulled him up to +the spot. The ghost was a well-grown girl, dressed in nothing but a white +night-gown, for I could see her bare feet beyond the hem of it. + +"Don't be afraid, dear," said I soothingly, for she was dumb and half +dead with fright. "What can I do for you? Say it, and it's done. Come now, +be brave!" + +She sat up, leaning on her right hand, and turned her pallid, quivering +face up to mine. + +"Robbers, sir!" she gasped. "They're murdering father and mother. For +God's sake, sir, go and stop them." + +"Of course," I replied cheerfully, slipping off my jacket. "Come on, my +brave lass!" + +I helped the lass to her feet, put her into my jacket, jumped into the +saddle, and lifted her astride behind me. + +"Clip me tight! Which way?" + +"Round the spinney first, sir!" + +Off we went, and this time I touched Sultan with the spur and he flew +along. Round the spinney; slantways across a field; up and over a gate, +the girl clinging to me like a leech; down a lane; up and over another +gate; and then the girl's shaking right arm was thrust over my shoulder. + +"There's th' ouse! 0', God, if we anna in time!" + +"How many are there?" + +"Two, sir." + +I pulled Sultan up at the farmyard gate, helped her down, and jumped +after her. Hitching the horse, we started across the yard. + +Luckily the low-down moon was on the far side of the house, and we could +run softly up in the pitch dark. As I write I feel that brave girl's hard +grip of my hand as we raced on. At a half-open door we halted; she loosed +hold of me, and I tiptoed on alone. From within I heard the crash of one +pot and then another on the brick floor of the kitchen, as the villain, +searching for hidden money, smashed them to the ground. Bitten to the +vitals by his want of success, he yelled, "I'll burn the sow's eye out! +That'll open her mouth." + +With wrath flaming in my heart I stepped into the doorway leading to the +kitchen. My eyes lit on a poor woman bound hard and fast in a chair, and a +masked beast, his big white teeth showing through lips thrust wide apart +in a grin of hellish rage, approaching a red-hot poker towards her face. I +shot him, and he tumbled into a squirming heap. The other villain raced +for dear life through the open front door. My second bullet got him on the +very threshold, for he yelped and sprang into the air like a stricken +buck, but he held on. I e'en let him go, not daring to leave the unkilled +scoundrel on the floor, for he had a regular battery of pistols in his +belt. The girl was already untying her mother, and her father, bound and +gagged in his chair in the ingle-nook, could bide a while. So I plucked +the pistols out, there were six of them, and rattled them down on the +table. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig, and his purpling face and +heaving throat showed that he was choking. As I destined him for the +gallows, I picked him up, flung him face down on the table, and thumped +him violently in the back, whereupon he coughed up a tooth. My bullet had +stripped out all his grinning front teeth clean and clear, just as our +Kate's dainty thumb strips the row of peas out of a peascod. Once the +tooth was up he was not greatly hurt, and, holding one of his own pistols +to his head, I bade him unstrap the farmer. As soon as the latter was +free, I ordered him to strap the robber to a kitchen chair, which he did +very thoroughly. The instant this job was done, he leaped to fondle and +hearten his wife. She kissed him back and, without a word, feebly pointed +to me, whereupon he turned and thanked me. + +"Thank your brave daughter," said I, and then he jumped at her and hugged +her in his big arms, blubbing out, "My bonny, bonny Nance!" + +At my wish he lit a lantern, and we went out and stabled Sultan. We went +back through the kitchen to make a search of the front of the house. A +pretty sight awaited me within doors. The good wife was sipping at a cup +of parsnip wine, and the girl was again wearing nothing but her +nightdress. With crimson face and downcast eyes, she stood there holding +my coat out. + +"Hallo, ghostie!" said I, smiling at her. "You want to frighten me again, +do you?" + +Too confused to say a word, she lackeyed me into my coat and then ran +upstairs. To cut short her mother's tearful thanks, I led the way to the +door, and we started our examination. + +Some two yards from the door-sill the feeble rays of the lantern were +reflected from something on the ground. To my great satisfaction it was +fair booty to me, nothing less than my closest need, a rare good hat made +of the finest beaver. The band was buckled with gold, and there was a +taking and surely very fashionable cock to the brim. I sent my old one +spinning into the blackness and clapped my new treasure on my head. Now I +could walk side by side with Margaret and not be ashamed, at any rate not +of my hat. + +"The rogue jerked it off when I winged him," said I. + +"Gom! He did jump, that's sartin," said the farmer, whose name, I ought +to say, I had learned was Job Lousely. + +It was quite a step down to the road, and we made no further discovery +till we got to the gate. Here it was his turn to be lucky, for there was +an excellent nag hitched to a rail. It was on Job's ground and he gave it +a home in his stable. + +"It'll mak up for the crockery," he said, with great delight. + +Back in the kitchen we found Nance fully dressed and busy laying a meal +on the table. She was so taken aback when I declared I was not hungry and +couldn't stay if I had been, that, to save her distress, I had a bite and +a sup of ale, while Job fetched Sultan round to the door. She was a sweet, +comely maiden, and it did my heart good to see her put a horn of ale to +the bleeding lips of the robber. He drank ravenously, like a dog after a +hard run. He was where he deserved to be, with his feet in the short, +straight path to the gallows, and I pitied him not. Nance did, and it's +good for the world that women are made that way. + +"How far is it to Ellerton Grange?" I asked Job, who came in to tell me +Sultan was ready. + +"A matter of six miles, sir. Three from here to Tutcheter, and three more +on to the Grange." + +"How funny, father," interposed Nance. "This is the second time tonight a +gentleman has asked the road to Ellerton Grange." + +It would hardly have struck Job as funny if it had been the +twenty-second, but Nance was quick and shrewd. + +"Ho! Ho!" said I. "Tell me about it, little woman!" + +"I was wishing my Jim good night at the gate, just before father came +home, when a man riding by pulled up and asked the road to Ellerton +Grange." + +"Did you make him out, Nance?" I asked. + +"Not much of him, sir, but the moon shone on his face when he took his +hat off to wipe his forehead, and it looked for all the world like an +addled duck-egg." + +"Well put, Nance," said I, laughing. "First time I saw that face I +thought it was like a bladder of lard." + +"You know him, sir?" + +"I think I do, Nance, and I must be after him." + +Out of the robber's string of pistols I selected a pair for myself. They +were lawful prize, and equal in quality to those Master Freake had given +me, so that the rascal had probably stolen them. I saw that all the others +were loaded, and advised Job to watch him all night and to lift him, chair +and all, into a cart the next morning and drive him off to the nearest +Justice. + +Job and his wife renewed their thanks when I was in the saddle. Nance +insisted on coming to open the gate, and on the way there she gave me full +and careful directions as to the way to Tutcheter and thence to the Grange. + +She swung the gate open and let me through. Then she came to my sword +side and held up her face to be kissed. + +"Good-bye, ghostie!" + +"Good-bye, sir! God bless you!" + +Kissing and blessing were reward enough for my service, and I rode on +lighter at heart for them. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE DOUBLE SIX + + +The time had not been wasted. I had had a stirring experience and got a +hint of dangers and uncertainties ahead. Moreover, and on this I plumed +myself most, I had acquired a handsome hat. It was a trifle roomy, but a +wisp of paper tucked within the inside rim would remedy that defect. The +moon was getting higher and brighter, and I pulled my new treasure off +again and again to admire it. It had belonged to a rascal with an +excellent taste in hats. I was very content with it, and looked forward +eagerly to catching the glint in Margaret's eyes when she saw it. After +all it behoved me to look well in her presence, and I regretted that the +rogue had not shed his coat and breeches as well. No doubt they were +equally modish and becoming, and would have set me up finely, though all +the tailors in London town couldn't make me a match for Maclachlan. A man +has to be born to fine clothes, like a bird to fine feathers, before he +looks well in them. The thought made me rueful. I jammed my hat on +fiercely, and slapped Sultan into a longer stride. + +The man ahead of me was, out of question, the Government spy, Weir. It +was now a full day and more since I had crammed my Virgil into his maw, +and he had had time to get into these parts. Thirty years before there had +been much feeling for the honest party hereabouts, and among the gentry +along the border of the shires there would be some in whose hearts the old +flame still flickered. Indeed, my own errand proved so much, and a +noser-out like Weir would be well employed in rooting up fragments of +gossip over the bottle and memories of beery confidences at market +ordinaries--sunken straws which showed the back-washes of opinion beneath +the placid surface flow of our rural life. I dug my fingers into my thigh +and imagined I was wringing the rascal's greasy neck, and the feeling did +me good. + +I began to ride past scattered houses and then between rows of cottages. +Sultan was tiring a little, but, being an experienced horse, pricked up at +the sight and cantered down the dead main street of the town. The shadows +of the houses on my left ended in an irregular line on the cobbled +causeway on my right. Near the town end I came on an exception to the +black-and-white stillness of the houses--an inn on my right ablaze with +light and full of noise. A merry liquorish company it held, some +quarrelling, some rowdily disputatious, and a few stentors trying to drown +the rest by roaring a tipsy catch. I pulled Sultan towards the verge of +the shadows to see if I could make anything out, and he, supposing, no +doubt, that I was guiding him towards bait and stable, made a half-turn +towards the portico that ran on pillars along the face of the inn. I +checked him at once, but, in that trice of time, a man leaped from behind +a pillar, laid one hand on the pommel of my saddle, and raised the other +in warning. He was a little man, and in his eagerness he stood on tiptoe +and whispered, "Ride on, Master Wheatman! One second may cost you dear!" + +Even as he spoke, some movement within startled him, and he leaped back +into the shadow before I could question him. + +I urged Sultan onward, and once out of footfall of the inn, pricked him +into a gallop. Out of the town he fled, past the end of the Stafford road, +along which two hours of Sultan's best would bring me to the Hanyards and +mother and Kate, and I kept him at it for a full two miles before I gave +him a breather and settled down to think out what it meant. + +I did not know the man from Adam, but he had me and my name quite pat. He +was obviously a friend, for his bearing and his warning alike bespoke his +goodwill towards me. He must be waiting there for some purpose, and he +must have seen me somewhere and learned enough about me to know from what +source danger to me was certain to come. In this case it was plain that +the danger was within the inn. The carousers might be, nay, almost +certainly were, soldiers, though there had been none in the town when Job +Lousely had left it less than two hours ago. The news of my escapade might +well have leaked into Stafford by now; I was very well known in the town, +and the stranger might be some Stafford chap benighted at Uttoxeter after +his business at the market. As I say, I did not know the man, but he might +very well know me; he was, perhaps, some old schoolfellow, grown out of +recollection by moonlight, and still willing to serve an old butty. This +seemed the likeliest solution of the difficulty, and it made me very sad. +The news about Jack would be whispered round by now, and I could never +walk the old streets again without seeing nods and shudders everywhere. +_See him? That's him! Killed his best friend! Wheatman of the Hanyards! +Never held his head up since! And hadn't ought to!_ The chatter of the +townsfolk crept into my ears between the hoof-beats, and made me sick and +dizzy. + +It would not have happened but for the bladder-faced scoundrel ahead of +me, now creeping around like a loathsome insect to sting a man of ancient +name and fame, and I was eager to be at him again. Sultan, without more +urging, had made the furlongs fly in gallant style, and it was time to be +looking out for my landmarks. Nance had made me letter-perfect in them. +Here, on the right, was the woodward's cottage where the road began to run +downhill into a bottom dark with ancient elms: there, on my left, in an +open space among the boles, the moon showed up a worn, grey column which +marked the spot where, in the wild days of the Roses, a Parker Putwell had +slain a Blount in unfair fight for a light of love not worth the blood of +a rabbit. Nance had very earnestly told me the old, sad tale, to impress +the spot on my mind, for the long lane up to Ellerton Grange began in the +shadows just beyond the monument, and wound away up the slope to the +right. The road carried us up where the moon-light fell on meadows that +were almost lawns, and across them to a maze of buildings. A minute later, +I leaped off Sultan and hammered away at the studded oaken door of +Ellerton Grange. + +No man came to my summons, and I sent a second volley of rat-tats echoing +through the house before I heard a shuffling of feet within and a drawing +of big bolts. The door crept open for a foot or so, and an old man's head, +with a lantern trembling over it, appeared in the gap. + +"Who's there?" he quavered. + +"Wheatman of the Hanyards," I answered; "but my name is nothing to the +purpose and my business is. I must see Sir James Blount." + +"He's abed," said he, "hours ago!" + +"Then fetch him out!" + +The old man pushed his lantern close to my face and straightened himself +to take a fair look at me. He had sunken cheeks and toothless gums, and +hairless eyes with raw, red lids, and out of all question was some +ancient, rusty serving-man, tottery and slow, but quick-minded enough, and +of a dog-like faithfulness to the hand that fed him. + +"Young and masterly," he muttered, "and o'er young to be so o'er +masterly. But I mind the day when I would 'a' raddled his bones with my +quarterstaff." + +"I won't naysay it, grandad," I answered, seeking to humour him. "In your +time you've been a two-inch taller lad than I am. Not so big o' the chest, +though, grandad." + +"Who're you grandadding? I was big enough o' the chest when I could neck +meat and drink enough to fill me out. Now!" + +As he spoke he gripped a handful of the waistcoat that hung loosely about +him, and added, "Once it was a fair fit, my master. It's cold and late for +my old bones to be creaking about, but Trusty's the dog for the tail-end +of the hunt, and a Blount's a Blount and mun be served." + +"Fetch him out!" I repeated. "I've ridden hard and far to serve him." + +The ancient took another look at me and said to himself in a loud +whisper, after the manner of old and favoured serving-men, "A farmering +body all but his hat, and none o' your ride-by-nights." + +"Fetch him out!" said I again, not for want of fresh words to say to the +candid old dodderer but to keep him to the point. + +"Oh-aye," said he, and shuffled off. + +He left me fuming, for his last mutteration, as he shook his lantern to +stir the flame up a bit, was, "Knows a true man when he sees one. More +used to a carving-knife than a sword, I'll be bound. What did he say? +Wheatman o' sommat! Reg'lar farmering name!" + +I kicked the door wide open and watched the lantern bobbing along the +hall. The light made pale shimmerings on complete suits of mail hanging so +life-like on the high, bare, stone walls, that it seemed for all the world +as if the knights had been crucified there and, little by little, age +after age, had dropped to dust, leaving their warrior panoplies behind--empty +shells on the shore of time from which the life had dripped and +rotted. The old man toiled up the grand staircase at the far end of the +hall and turned to the right along a gallery. The friendly light +disappeared, leaving me darkling and alone. Sultan sniffed his way to the +door, pushed in his head and neck, and rubbed his nose against my breast +in all friendliness. I flung my arms round his neck and caressed him, and +in those anxious minutes in the doorway of Ellerton Grange he was comrade +and sweetheart to me, and comforted my spirit greatly. + +Footsteps and a voice within made me turn my head. A man came at a run +down the stairs and along the hall. After him the old serving-man +hastened, lantern in hand, as best he could. + +"Sir James Blount?" said I. + +"The same," said he curtly and confusedly. + +"I bring you a letter from a very exalted person, Sir James," I explained. + +He took it from me much as he would have taken a bowl of poison. "The +light! The light! You slow old fool! The light!" he said, jerking the +words out as if his soul was in distress, and the ancient, barely half-way +down the hall, quickened his poor pace up to his master. He, tearing the +lantern out of the feeble hands, and rattling it down on a table, ripped +open the letter and devoured its contents. + +The light of the lantern revealed the face of a man still young, but at +least a half-score years my elder. He had a thin-lipped, sensitive mouth, +a great arched nose, and quick, eager eyes. His mind was running like a +mill-race, and his fine face twitched and wreathed and wrinkled under the +stress of the flow. Another thing plain enough was that the old man had +lied when he said his master was abed, for he was fully and carefully +dressed and his wig had not in it a single displaced or unravelled curl. +This was no half-awakened dreamer, but a man with the issues of his life +at stake. + +He crushed the letter in his hand and paced up and down the hall, +muttering to himself. I turned and rubbed Sultan's nose to keep him quiet +and happy. The old servant took charge of the lantern again, and followed +his master up and down with his eyes. + +"A year ago, yes! A year ago, yes!" I heard Sir James say. He quickened +his steps and the words came in jerks, mere nouns with verbs too big with +meaning for him to utter them. "A word! A dream! A dead faith! Yes, +father! The devil! Sweetheart!" + +There is a great line in the Aeneid which I had tried in vain a hundred +times to translate. Three days agone I would have tilted at it once more +with all the untutored zeal of a verbalist. I should never need to try +again. There are some lines in the Master that life alone can translate. +_Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt._ + +After a turn or two in silence, Sir James broke off his pacing and came +to me. + +"Sir," he said, "you will know enough to excuse my inattention to a +guest. I must make it up if I can. Give me the lantern and wait for us +here, Inskip. Come with me, sir, and stable your horse. Gad so, sir," +holding up the lantern, "you ride the noblest animal I have ever seen. +Woa, ho, my beauty! All my men are abed, so we must do it ourselves, but, +by Heaven, it will be a pleasure, Master--what may I call you, sir?" + +"Just the plain name of my fathers--Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards." + +"A good strong name, sir, though my fathers liked it not." + +"And you, Sir James?" + +"Frankly, it is a name which to me has ceased to be a symbol. A good +fellow can call himself 'Oliver' without setting my teeth on edge. I had a +grand foxhound once, and called him 'Noll,' just because he was grand. My +dear old father consulted a London doctor as to the state of my mind. It +made him anxious, you see! The great man said, gruffly enough, that I was +as sane as a jackdaw. Thereupon my dear dad, one of the best men that ever +lived, had the dog shot!" + +He laughed, reminiscently rather than merrily, and was to my mind bent on +getting a grip on himself again. We made Sultan comfortable for the night, +and then Sir James courteously said it was high time to be attending to +me. He made no further indirect reference to the situation, until, as he +was leading me along the hall, he stopped opposite a great dim picture, +hanging between two sets of mail, and held the lantern high over his head +to give me a view of it. With a strange mixture of resentment and pathos, +he said, "A man's ancestors are sometimes a damned nuisance, sir!" + +"They are indeed!" I replied. "There's one of mine shaking his fist at me +over the battlements of the New Jerusalem." + +He laughed heartily, and, with Inskip trailing patiently behind us, led +me upstairs, and through the gallery into a long corridor, lit by lanterns +fixed in sconces on the walls. We stopped opposite a door, and he was +about to lead me in when another door farther along the corridor opened +and a lady came out. She was all in white with dark hair hanging loose +about her shoulders, and there was a something in her arms. + +Down went the lantern with a bang, and Sir James flew like a hunted buck +along the corridor. He whipped his arms around the lady and kissed her +passionately, and then flung on his knees and held out his arms. She put +the something in white into them and there was a little puling cry. + +"Married a year come Christmas," whispered old Inskip, "and the babby's +five weeks old to-morrow." + +A serving-woman bustled out of another room, and the lady and child were +affectionately driven off to bed under her escort. Sir James came slowly +back. + +"My wife and son, Mr. Wheatman," he said. "You must meet them to-morrow. +The young rascal cries out whenever I desecrate him with my touch. It +would have served him right to have christened him 'Oliver.'" + +I laughed heartily, for he was fighting himself again by gibing at me. He +sent off the old man to scour the pantry for a supper for me, and then +pushed open the door and led me into the room. + +For size and dignity, it was a room to take away the breath of a poor +yeoman. It seemed to me a Sabbath day's journey to the great blazing +hearth, where two men were sitting; the high white ceiling was moulded +into a wondrous design, with great carved pendants hanging from it like +icicles from the eaves of the Hanyards. Many bookcases ran half-way up the +walls round the greater part of the room, filled with stores of books such +as my heart had never dreamed of, great leather-bound folios by platoons, +and quartos by regiments. If I could get permission I would steal an hour +or two from sleep to eye them over, and as we walked towards the hearth I +got behind my host in my slowness and had to step up smartly to get level +with him to make my bow of introduction. I gasped with the shock as I +stepped into the arms of Master John Freake. + +"My dear lad," he cried, "what luck! What luck! How are you? How are they?" + +He made me sit down beside him, for here as elsewhere he was easily the +most important man present, though his bearing was ever quiet and modest. +He spoke of me to Sir James in warm and kindly phrases, and it soon became +manifest that his good word was a passport into my host's confidence and +regard. The three gentlemen filled their glasses and toasted me with grave +courtesy, and I easily slid out of the uneasy mood into which Inskip's +candour and my unaccustomed surroundings had driven me. + +The third man present was a Welsh baronet, Sir Griffith Williams, a +far-away cousin and close friend of Sir Watkin Wynne, whose name I +remembered to have heard on the Colonel's lips at Leek. Sir Griffith was a +brisk, apple-cheeked man of forty or thereabouts, very fluent of speech in +somewhat uncertain English, with fewer ideas in his head than there are +pips in a codlin, but what there were of them singularly clear and +precise. He reminded me of Joe Braggs, who could only whistle three tunes, +but whistled them like a lark. + +Inskip brought me a rare dish of venison-pie and various other good +things, and laid out the table for me. I left Master Freake's side to eat +my supper and listen to their talk. + +They made various false starts, followed by dead silences. It was clean +useless for Sir James to talk about his baby. Sir Griffith had had a long +family and so had exhausted the topic years ago, whilst Master Freake, a +bachelor, knew nothing about it. There had been a great flood in the +Welshman's valley in the autumn and he harangued upon it in style, and not +without gleams of native poetry, but Sir James had never seen a flood and +Master Freake had never been to Wales, so the flood soon dried up. + +There was a silence for some minutes, busy minutes for me with an apple +tart that was sublime with some cream to it, and I was settling down to +the sweet content of the well-fed when Sir James broke out. + +"Mr. Wheatman has brought me an invitation, hardly to be distinguished +from a command, to meet His Royal Highness at the Poles' place tomorrow." + +The eager Welshman bounced on to his feet, raised his glass and said, "To +the Prince, God bless him." Sir James had to follow his example, though he +was in no mood for it, and it would have looked ill had I not joined in, +and moreover the wine was excellent. + +"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Master Freake. "I am not clear +which Royal Highness is referred to, and besides I have no politics." + +"God bless him," bubbled the Welshman. "I shall join him when he has +crossed the Trent." + +Again there was silence for a space. + +"So the question is put, and I must give my answer," said Sir James, +breaking the stillness. "I must put my hand to the plough or draw back. I +must keep my word or break it. Can I be loyal to my father's creed and +also to my child's interests? I've got to be both if I can. If I can't be +both, which is to have the go-by? Fate has put me in a cleft stick, Master +Wheatman. On his death-bed my father handed on to me his place in the old +faith. He was a devoted adherent of the exiled House, the close friend and +associate of Honest Shippen, and even more intimately concerned than he in +the underground network of intrigue and preparation which was constantly +being woven, ruined, and re-woven up to his death ten years ago. He left +me poor and encumbered with debt, for he had been prodigal in his +sacrifices for the cause. It is a wonder that he died in his bed rather +than on the block, but he was as wary as he was zealous. For nine years I +lived here the life of a hermit, alone with my debts and my books. Then I +met a young girl"--his voice broke badly--"who became to me the +all-in-all of my life. By good fortune I also met Master Freake, who took +my affairs in hand for me and has helped me wisely and generously." + +"For ten per cent, Oliver," interrupted Master Freake. + +"Nonsense! Wisely and generously, I repeat," said Sir James warmly. + +"For ten per cent on good security, I repeat," answered Master Freake +gravely. + +"Damn your ten per cent!" + +"Looks like it, and the security into the bargain!" said Master Freake +very quickly. + +"Swounds! that's just it!" said Sir James. He rose and paced backwards +and forwards between me and the hearth. "A year ago, sir,"--he addressed +me in particular--"I should have shouted with joy at the summons to take +the place among the adherents of the cause which my father would have held +had he lived, and which it was his heart's wish on his death-bed that I +should take for him. The cause and the creed are nothing to me as such, +for I place no value on either. Your talk about the right divine of old +Mr. Melancholy, mumming and mimicking away there at Rome, makes me smile. +He's an old fool, that's the long and short of it. But a Blount's a Blount +after all. I owe something to my ancestors. My word to my father ought not +to be an empty breath. Yet here I am, with all the interests of life +pulling one way--wait till you've a boy five weeks old by a wife you'd be +cut in little pieces for, and you'll know, sir,--and a dead father and a +dead creed pulling the other. I knew what was coming, and I've talked +about it and thought about it till my head's like a bee-hive. Now, sir, +give me your advice!" + +"I have joined the standard of your Prince," I said. + +"Damme, sir, you mock me. That's not advice. That's torture." + +"I have turned my back on the creed of my life and on every sound +instinct in me," I continued. + +He stopped his walk and looked intently at me. + +"I have ancestors whose memory I cherish, and I have torn up their work +as if it were a scrap of paper covered with a child's meaningless +scribble." + +Sir James stepped up to the table, his fine face alive with emotion. + +"For what?" he asked. + +I rose and looked straight into his eyes. + +"For a woman," I whispered, very low but very proudly. + +Our hands met across the table in a hard grip. + +"You have done well, sir!" he said. "I asked you to give me advice. You +have set me an example." + +He sat down again, and looked hopefully at the fire and then moodily at +Master Freake. + +"There is this unfortunate difference between Mr. Wheatman's case and +mine. I have, and he has not, given my plain word to a father." + +"I admit that is a striking difference," said Master Freake. "I am no +Jesuit, however, and cannot decide cases of conscience. I deal with +business problems only, which are all cut and dry, legal and formal. When +I make a promise in the way of business I always keep it precisely and +punctually, for the penalty of failure to do so is a business man's +death--bankruptcy." + +"There's such a thing as moral bankruptcy," said Sir James gloomily. + +"Very likely," replied Master Freake. + +"This is all nothing whatefer but words, words, words," said the +Welshman. "And words, my goot sirs, are indeed no goot whatefer. Sir +James's head is wrapped up in a mist of words, words, words, and indeed he +cannot see anything whatefer. I am not a man of words, and what you call +'em--broblems." + +"Very good," said I. + +"Indeed it is goot," said he. "To hell with your words and your broblems. +They are of no use whatefer, whatefer. Our good friend, Sir James, is up +to his neck in broblems like a man in a bog, and he cannot move. Now I +have not your broblems. To hell with your broblems. My Cousin Wynne is +full of 'em, and he's still gaping up at the cloud on Snowdon, while I'm +here, ready. I say plain: if the Prince cross south of the Trent I will +join him." + +"Why the Trent?" said I. + +"It is my mark. It is my way of knowing what I will do. It is all so +simple. Indeed I am a simple man, not a broblem in my brain, none +whatefer, I tell you plain. It is as this--so. If the Prince cross the +Trent, say I to myself, well and goot. He do his share. It is time for me +to do mine. It is better indeed, I tell you plain, to have it settled by a +simple thing like the Trent than to have it all muddled up by your +broblems. I can sing you off my ancestors by dozens, right back to the +standard-bearer of the great Llewellyn, but they're all dead, and indeed +I'm not going to poke about among their bones to find out what to do. I +look at your pretty river, and I wait." + +Sir James had looked at him during this harangue with unconcealed +impatience. + +"I sent a letter to Chartley of Chartley Towers," he said, "one of us, +and a strong one by all accounts. At any rate, my father always reckoned +him as such. So I asked him guardedly what he thought, and his reply was, +'The chestnut is on the hob. I am waiting to see whether it jumps into the +fire or into the fender.' I cannot decide by appealing to rivers or nuts. +There's much more in it than that." + +Fate snatched the problem out of his hands. Without a tap, without a +word, the door of the room was flung open, and a dozen troopers filed +swiftly and silently in, and covered us with their carbines. An officer, +sword in hand, pushed through a gap in their line and stepped half a dozen +paces towards us. He saluted us ceremoniously with his sword and said, "In +the King's name!" Behind the line a man in citizen clothes hovered +uncertainly, and dim as the light was I made him out only too plainly. It +was the Government spy, Weir. My goose was cooked. I had played for life's +highest stake, and thrown amb's ace. It was good-bye to Margaret. + +The Welshman stuck to his chair, stolid as his native hills. Master +Freake, whose back was to the new-comers, made a swift half turn, and then +he, too, settled down again as indifferently as if the interruption had +only been old Inskip with the bedward candles. Blount leaped to his feet, +livid with rage, and strode up to the officer. + +"My Lord Tiverton, what does this intrusion mean?" he demanded. + +"It means," was the composed reply, "that if any one of you makes the +slightest attempt to resist, he will be shot out of hand. Close up, lads, +and cover your men!" + +The order was obeyed briskly and exactly. The three on the left of the +line attended to me, and I sat there, toying with a wine-glass for +appearance sake, though the three brown barrels levelled straight and +steady at my head made my heart rattle like a stone in a can. These were +none of Brocton's untrained grey-coats, but precise, disciplined veterans +in blue tunics and mitre-shaped hats, white breeches and high boots, +belted, buttoned, and bepouched. It was almost a compliment to be shot by +such tall fellows. + +Seeing we were all harmless, the officer dropped his military preciseness +as if it were an ill-fitting garment. He was the daintiest, handsomest +wisp of a man I had ever set eyes on, and looked for all the world like an +exquisite figure in Dresden china come to life. He could not have had much +soldiering--the air and aroma of the London _salon_ still hung +closely around him--and he was so very self-possessed that he was +play-acting half his time, doing everything with a grace and relish that +were highly diverting. It took all my pride in my new hat out of me to see +this desirable little picture of a man. + +"I assure you, my dear Sir James," he said, "that it's a damned annoying +thing to me to have to act so unhandsomely. Stap me! I shouldn't like it +myself, but law's law and duty's duty, and so on, you know the old tale, +and I'm obleeged to do it." + +He opened his snuff-box and offered it to Sir James, who brusquely waved +it aside, saying, "Your explanation, if you please, my lord!" + +"Damme, don't be peevish! Smoke the Venus in the lid? Isn't she a +sparkler? Wish I'd lived in the times when ladies lay about on seashores +like it! I hate these damned crinolines. Saw Somerset in 'em in the +Pantiles. Could have pushed her over and trundled her like a barrel." + +"My lord," reiterated Blount, "I await your explanation." + +"Boot's on the other leg," he chirped. "A'nt I pouched you all cleverly, +stap me, seeing the ink on my commission's hardly dry? Didn't think it was +in me!" + +"I will take the authority of your commission as sufficient, my lord, the +times being what they are. But will you be good enough to tell me why you +come?" + +"Gadso! Certainly! There's a dirty rascal in pewter buttons behind there--come +here, sir, and let Sir James see your ugly face!--who says you're a +disloyal person, a traitor, and so forth. I don't believe him. I wouldn't +crack a flea on his unsupported testimony, but he's in the know of things, +and showed me a commission from Mr. Secretary, calling on His Majesty's +liege subjects, etc., you know the run of it, and I was bound to look into +it. Charges are charges, stap me if they a'nt. Don't come too near, pig's +eyes! Out with your tale!" + +His lordship plainly disliked the whole business, and it was a very +awkward thing for Sir James that I was here, a circumstantial piece of +evidence against him. I looked straight into Weir's eyes as he came +forward, ungainly and uncertainly, smiling half his dirty teeth bare, and +mopping his yellowy face with a dirty handkerchief. To my astonishment he +made not a single sign of recognition. I was his trump card, and he left +me unplayed. + +"Sir James is a known Jacobite, my lord!" he quavered. + +"Quite right, Mr. Weir, and if you propose to keep me out of bed these +cold nights calling on known Jacobites, stap my vitals, Mr. Weir, if I +don't have you flung into a pond with a brick tied round your sweaty neck +like an unwanted pup. Anything else?" + +"This is a Jacobite plot, my lord. There's scheming and plotting against +our gracious lord the King agoing on here, my lord." + +"I'll e'en have a closer look at 'em. Plots are damned interesting +things, stap me if they a'nt, and I'm glad to see one. Here's a likely +young fellow," striding up and examining me. "His is a plot in a meat-pie, +it seems. There was one in a meal-tub once, I remember, so the meat-pie +does look mighty suspicious, Mr. Weir. We're getting on. And here's a +plotter toasting his toes. Not an intelligent member of the cabal. Stap +me, if he a'nt asleep! I must circumambulate and have a quiz at him." + +He walked gaily in his play-acting way round Master Freake's chair on to +the hearth and then turned and took a peep at him. As soon as he had done +so he gave a great shout, and then, recovering himself, burst into a roar +of laughter. He clapped his hands on his knees and fairly swayed with +merriment. Master Freake looked at him with a sedate half-smile, and said, +"How d'ye do, my lord?" + +"Very well, thankee!" cried his lordship gaily, too gaily. "Damme! It's +the funniest thing that's happened since Noah came out of the Ark. Come +here, spy! Mean to tell me this is a Jacobite?" + +As the spy crept near, Master Freake stood up, wheeled round on him +smartly, and said, "How d'ye do, Turnditch?" + +"Stap me!" cried his lordship. "His name's Weir!" + +"He will know me better if I call him Turnditch," said Master Freake icily. + +He spoke unmistakable truth. I could see the shadow of the gallows fall +across the man's face. What stiffening there was in him oozed out, and he +stood there wriggling in an agony of apprehension, like a worm in a +chicken's beak. Master Freake knew him to the bottom of his muddy soul. My +Lord Tiverton was a man of another mould, but he too was in the hands of +his master. Plain John Freake, citizen of London, had taken a hand in this +game of fate, and had thrown double six. + +This noble room had seen the agonizings and rejoicings of a dozen +generations of the sons of men, but nothing to surpass this scene in +living interest. They come back to me now--the line of blue-and-white +troopers, still with levelled carbines; the stolid Welshman, as +indifferent as Snowdon; the dapper nobleman, still polished and lightsome, +no longer play-acting but rather vaguely anxious; the high-minded troubled +Jacobite, fear for his wife and babe gnawing at his heart; the spy, Weir +or Turnditch, with the noose he had made for another drawn round his own +neck; Master John Freake, the quiet, Quakerlike merchant, whose power was +rooted deep in those far haunts of the world's trade, so that we were here +shadowed and protected by the uttermost branches thereof. Last of all I +remember myself, with my heart thrumming good-morrow to Margaret. + +"Come now, Houndsditch, or Turndish, or whatever it is," said his +lordship. "Precisely what have you to say?" + +The poor devil had nothing to say. He was aflame to be off and out of +Master Freake's eyesight. He choked up something about mistakes, and zeal, +and forgiveness. + +"That's enough! Out you go, the whole damn lot of you!" cried my lord. +These not being familiar military words of command, the men stuck there +like skittles. "Ground arms, or whatever it is!" he continued. "About +turn! Quick march!" + +Their sergeant took charge of them and they filed out. Sir James followed +them and became their host, routing out servants to wait on them. + +As soon as the door was closed on Sir James, his lordship hastened to +Master Freake's side, and entered into low and earnest conversation with +him. I walked across to the folios, hoping to find amongst them an +_editio princeps_ of Virgil, but was recalled by a loud "Oliver" from +Master Freake. + +"Oliver," he said, when I reached his chair, "I should like you to know +the most noble the Marquess of Tiverton!" + +I bowed, and his lordship bowed in reply, and said light and pleasant +things about our meeting. Then, vowing he was monstrous hungry, he tackled +the venison pasty, summoning me to sit opposite him. + +"Gadso! I am sharp-set," he said, and indeed he ate with the zeal of a +plough-lad. He pushed me over his snuff-box, which nearly made me sneeze +before I took the snuff. + +"It really is a masterpiece," he said, in a pause between pasty and pie. +"I shall never hear the last of it at the 'Cocoa Tree' and White's. Stap +me, I shan't want to! It's too good. The tale will keep my memory green +when that old mummy, Newcastle, is dust at last." + +"What tale?" said I. + +"D'ye know why, a month ago, I badgered Newcastle into getting me a +company in the Blues?" + +"Not the faintest idea!" + +He leaned across the table and, from under cover of me, nodded towards +Master Freake, now talking with the Welsh-man. "To get out of his way!" he +whispered. + +I looked incredulous, whereupon his lordship tapped his pocket +significantly. + +"He's a damned good fellow. He gave me another six months without a +murmur. Wish I'd known! There'd have been no campaigning for me. I prefer +the Mall!" + +So he said now, yet he was as steady as a wall and as bold as a lion at +Culloden. He came of a great stock, and greatness was natural to him. The +play-acting and gaming was only the fringe that Society had tacked on to +him. It lessoned me finely to see him when Sir James came back into the +room. Tiverton knew the position by instinct. + +"Sir James," he said, "I crave a word with you." + +"At your service, my lord." + +"I will be frank," continued his lordship. "I ask no questions. I make no +inferences. I simply point out that the spy fell to pieces because he +found Mr. Freake here." + +"I observed so much, my lord!" + +"I don't know why," said the Marquess dubiously. + +"I could hang him at the next assizes," interrupted Master Freake. + +"I see. He doesn't want to be hanged, of course. No one does. It's a +perfectly natural feeling. So he crumpled up at the prospect." + +"Yes, my lord," said Sir James. + +"I allowed him to crumple up, and I took full advantage of the fact. You +saw so much?" + +"I did." + +"Now, Sir James, you, as a Blount, that is, as a man bearing an honoured +name, are under the strictest obligation to me to see that I can say, if +my conduct is challenged, that I saw nothing here because there was +nothing to see. I have put myself absolutely in your power, Sir James. +Whoever else joins the Prince, you must not, or you take my head along +with you." + + +It was well and truly said, and there was no posing about it. Sir James +Blount's problem was settled. He taught me something too, for all he did +was to put out his hand. + +"There's an end of Tundish!" said Tiverton, grasping it firmly. "And it's +the best end too, for the Highland army hasn't a snowball's chance in +hell." + +He turned at once to banter me on my indifference to art, seeing that I +had sniffed at a miniature by one of the most famous artists at the French +Court. I let him rattle on, for my eye was on Sir James, who was rolling +something in his hands. A moment later the Prince's letter went up in a +tongue of flame and burnt along with it the Jacobitism of the Blounts. + +A knock at the door interrupted his lordship's valuation of art and +artists of the French school, and his sergeant entered to say that his men +were in the saddle. + +"Campaigning be damned!" said his captain wearily. + +"Beg pardon, my lord," added the sergeant, "but Mr. What's-his-name has +cut off." + +"Good riddance. He's gone back to his crony at the 'Black Swan.'" + +"Yes, my lord. T'other's a sergeant in my Lord Brocton's dragoons." + +"Ah, I saw they were hob-and-nob together. A fellow with a ditch in his +face you could lay a finger in!" + +Fortunately for me, the Marquess was busy with a last glass of wine. Here +was ill news with a vengeance. I had got out of the smoke into the smother. + +"My lord," said Master Freake, "there is a man of mine, one Dot Gibson, +at the 'Black Swan,' and I shall be greatly beholden to you if you will +let your sergeant carry him a note of instructions from me." + +"Stap me! I'll take it myself," cried his lordship heartily. + +Master Freake went to a table to write the note. I knew now who it was +that had given me the warning. My lord pocketed the note and we all crept +quietly down to the main door to see him off. The guards made a gallant +show in the brilliant moonlight, and Master Freake, taking my arm, dragged +me out to watch them canter across the stretch of meadow, and drop out of +sight down the hill. + +"Sleep in peace, Oliver," he said. "Dot Gibson will give us early news of +the movements of the enemy." + +Then we strolled back, talking of the Colonel and Margaret. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY + + +It was eight by the clock next morning before I set about my third +commission. To begin with, the bed pulled, and small wonder, since I had +not slept in a bed since leaving home. Then I took my fill of the books, +finding among them no less a prize than the _editio princeps_ of +Virgil, printed at Rome in 1469, which it was hard to let go. Next there +was Baby Blount to be waited upon, and his mother, a pretty, appealing +lady, with the glory of motherhood about her like a fairy garment. Part of +the ceremonial was the putting of Master Blount into my arms, which was +done very gingerly, with abundant cautions and precautions against my +crushing or dropping him. He had a skin like white satin and a silvery +down on his charming little head. Altogether I thought him a most +desirable possession for a man to have, and wished he was mine, +particularly when, to his father's outspoken chagrin, instead of puling he +stared steadily at me with big blue eyes and smiled. + +"Precious ikkle ducksy-wucksy," said his mother. + +"Ugly ikkle monkey-wonkey," cried his father. "Why the deuce can't he +smile at me?" + +"Try him!" said I, handing him over to Sir James, glad to be free of the +responsibility. + +Baby Blount looked at his father and smiled again, and it was a +revelation to me of the deepest and finest feelings of a man's heart to +see how ravished Sir James was with this first smile of his baby boy's. + +"It's you that's changed, James, not our little darling," said his wife. +"He'll always smile at a face as happy as yours is this morning." + +I lingered through these delightful moments over an old book and a new +baby with an easy conscience, for Master Freake had brought me news which +made my third task much easier. I had not told him what I had in hand to +do, thinking it unfair to force the knowledge on him, but he must have +made a good guess at it, for he came to tell me that the latest news from +Stone was that the Duke was moving south again at top speed, with the +intention of getting between the Prince and London if he could. He told me +further that Charles had joined Murray at Ashbourne in the small hours, +and that their reunited forces had started out for Derby. In all these +important matters he was, as is obvious enough now, fully and exactly +informed, and I expressed my admiration of his thoroughness. + +"Business, my dear Oliver, nothing but business. Some great man of old +time has said 'Knowledge is power.' I'm expanding that a little to fit +these modern days. That's all." + +"How does the maxim run now, sir?" + +"Knowledge is money and money is power," said he, with a dry smile. + +Then, as to matters small in themselves but of more immediate concern to +me, he told me that his man, Dot Gibson, had reported that the spy, Weir, +had at an early hour ridden off towards Stafford, while the sergeant of +dragoons was still lurking at the "Black Swan." There had been long +consultations between them as if they were acting in concert. + +This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had +seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake +had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would +in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his +evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be +only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a +useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let +slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of +their conduct. + +I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my +ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till +we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway. + +"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand. + +"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night." + +"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean +to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad." + +"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir." + +"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no +fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and +keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced +blackguards at his service and will compass hell itself to fetch you down. +What about money?" + +"I've plenty and to spare," I answered, "thanks to your generous loan." + +"No loan, lad, but my first contribution to the expenses of--what shall +we say for safety? Your tour. How will that do?" + +"Nay, sir--" + +"Yea. Oliver, and no more said. My favourite rate is ten per cent. You've +let me off with a paltry two." + +"I do not like joking in money matters, sir." + +"John Freake joking in money matters?" said he, smiling. "Tell it not +when you get to town, Oliver, or you'll be the ruin of a hard-won +reputation. I sent you sixty guineas odd." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Which is, to be precise, slightly less than two per cent of what you +saved me when you snatched me out of the dirty grip of Brocton's rascals. +I had a good thick slice of his lordship's patrimony in my pocket. Off you +go, lad! Sultan is impatient at my trifling. So ho! You beauty! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, sir!" I cried heartily, swinging my new hat in a grand bow. + + * * * * * + +At three o'clock in the afternoon, having ridden hard and far without +bite or sup, I came out in a little hamlet huddled about the great London +road where it ran along the hem of a forest, and drew rein before the +"Seven Stars." I was to be in presence with my report at six o'clock, and, +as Derby was only fifteen miles off and the road one of the best, there +was ample time for Sultan and me to take the rest and refreshment we both +stood in need of. + +I was, too, in need of quiet and leisure to get my report straightened +out in my mind ready for delivery. The largeness and looseness of my +commission left everything to my discretion, with the vexatious result +that I had discovered nothing. I had, indeed, carried out my orders. I had +been so far west of Derby that I had seen the famous spires of Lichfield +cutting into the sky like three lance-heads, and had learned on abundant +and trustworthy evidence that the Duke's forces there were leaving for the +south, under orders to march with all speed to their original camp at +Merriden Heath. This squared exactly with Master Freake's news, and was +all the stock of positive information I had got together. + +Of the kind of news the Prince would best like to hear there was none. Of +preparations to join him, none. Of open well-wishers to his cause, none. +The time when the Stuart banner could rally a host around it had gone +beyond recall. There was no violent feeling the other way. People simply +did not care. The old watchwords were powerless. The old quarrel had been +revived in a world that had forgotten it, and would not be reminded of it. +It was Charles and his Highlanders against George and his regiments, and +as the latter were sure to win, nobody bothered. It is the strange but +exact truth that the only sign I discovered of the great event in +progress, was to come across a group of four respectable men of the middle +station in life bargaining with an innkeeper for the hire of a chaise, in +which they meant to drive to watch the Highlanders march by. They were +very keen to bate him a shilling, and as indifferent as four oysters to +the issues at stake. + +Riding into the inn-yard, I shouted to the host to get me his best +dinner, and, while it was preparing, I overlooked the grooming and baiting +of Sultan. I left him comfortable and content, and strolled indoors to +look after my own needs. + +Though on the London road, and only fifteen miles from the scene of +action, the inn was quiet. I learned from the host that a courier had +galloped through an hour before, spurring southwards, and cried out from +the saddle that the bare-legs were only five miles from Derby when he +left. Earlier in the day a cart had driven through loaded up with the +gowns of the town dignitaries, "going to Leicester to be done up," +explained the host, delighted with his own shrewdness. + +A hunger-bitten traveller with a good dinner in front of him commonly +pays no attention for the time being to anything else. I found two men in +the guest-room, and, after a civil greeting, which made one of them open +his eyes and mouth very uncivilly, I sat down to eat, very content with +the fare set before me. + +As my hunger steadily abated before a steady attack on a cold roast +sirloin of most commendable quality, I began to take more interest in the +two men. In fact, more interest in them was forced on me by the beginnings +of a pretty quarrel between them, and by the time I had got to the cheese, +they, utterly regardless of my presence, were at it hammer and tongs. The +row was about a horse-deal lately passed between them, and there are few +things men can quarrel about more easily or more vigorously. The yokel who +had gaped at me, had been cheated by his companion, and was accordingly +resentful. + +Two men more at odds in outward appearance could not easily have been +found. The gaper was plain country, a big, bulky man, with a paunch that, +as he sat, sagged nearly to his knees, a triple chin, and a nose with a +knobly end, in shape and colour like an overripe strawberry. His companion +was a little fellow, lean and sharp-cut, with a head like a ferret's. We +country-siders know your Londoner. Many an hour I had sat under the clump +of elms at the lane-end and watched the travellers. Hence, doubtless, my +taste in fashionable head-gear, like this of mine, lately belonging to +Swift Nicks, now disposed carefully on the table at my side. I would have +wagered it against Joe Braggs' frowsy old milking-cap that the little man +was a Londoner. + +Little as he was, his cold, calculating anger overbore his antagonist, +who was no great hand at stating his case, good as it was. + +"The landlord knows me and knows the gelding," said the little man. "You +know less about horses than a Mile End tapster. Fetch him in, and let him +decide. I suppose you rode him!" + +"What a God's name, d'ye think I bought him for, Mr. Wicks? To look at?" + +"By the look of you I should think you bought him as a present for a +baby. Sixteen stone six if you're an ounce, and riding a two-year-old! +Damme, no wonder he throws out curbs! Fetch the landlord, I tell ye!" + +Out burst the fat man in a great fury, and in a minute or two came back +with the landlord and an ostler. Then the wrangle became hotter and more +amusing than ever. + +Finally, the little man, losing all patience, drew a pistol, whereon the +big man ran backwards, shrieking "Murder!" Not heeding where he was going, +he tumbled up against my table, and jammed it hard against my midriff. + +I attempted to rise but was too late. The fat man seized my wrists, the +landlord and the ostler ran round, and pinned me to the chair, and the +little man held the barrel of the pistol to my forehead. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Swift Nicks!" said he. + +I dare say my liver was turning the colour of chalk, but, though I'm too +easily frightened, I'm always too proud to show it, which has unjustly got +me the character of being a brave man. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Too-swift Wicks!" I retorted. + +"What d'ye mean?" he asked, plainly disconcerted. + +"I mean," said I, "that the zeal of your office hath eaten you up." + +"What the hell does he mean?" he asked, appealing to the company. + +"Damn my bones if I know," answered the host. "I've 'eerd parson say +sommat like it in church a Sundays. He's one of these 'ere silly +scholards." + +"They do say as how Swift Nicks is a scholard," put in the ostler wisely. + +"There's no time for chattering," said I. "Take me at once before a +justice. That's the law, and you know it. I warn you that any delay will +be dangerous. My cocksure friend here is already in for actions for +assault, battery, slander, false imprisonment, and the Lord knows what. My +gad, sir, I'll give you a roasting at the assizes. Take me off at once to +the nearest magistrate. I'll have the law on you before another hour's +out." + +My energy flustered the Londoner, who had sense enough to know the peril +of his being wrong, but the fat man, dull as an ox, cheered him on. + +"He's Swift Nicks right enough, Master Wicks," he said. "Pocket full of +pistols, four on 'em; a chap of the right size, a matter of six feet odd; +hereabouts, where he is known to be; speaks like a gentleman; and, damme, +I saw Swift Nicks myself with my own eyes not two yards off, and that's +Swift Nicks' hat or I'm a Dutchman; I know'd it again the minute he walked +into the room." + +"Damn the hat!" cried I heartily enough, but feeling very crestfallen at +this telling piece of evidence against me. + +The little man snatched it up and looked carefully at the inside of it, a +thing I had never done, being wrapped up in its outside. + +"There y'are!" he cried triumphantly. "'S. N. His hat.' What more d'ye +want?" + +"I want the nearest magistrate," cried I. + +"Well, Mr. Wicks," said the fat man, "he can easily have what he wants. +It's only a matter o' two mile to the Squire's." + +"Squire'll welly go off 'is yed," remarked the host. "He's that sot on +seeing Swift Nicks swing." + +"Then he'll very likely go bail for Mr. Wicks," said I. + +"Will he?" said Mr. Wicks sourly. + +"If he don't," I retorted, "you'll spend the night in Leicester jail." + +"They do say as 'ow Swift Nicks is a rare plucked 'un," said the ostler. + +"Then they're liars," said I. + +I was handcuffed and put on Sultan, with my feet roped together under his +belly. Then we started off, and the whole village, which had dozed in +peace with the Highlanders only five hours off, turned out gaily and +joyously to see Swift Nicks. The landlord left his guests, and the ostler +his horses, to go with us, and at least a score of villagers, mostly +women, joined in and made a regular pomp of it. Once or twice we met a man +who cried, "What's up?" and at the response, "Swift Nicks," he added +himself to the procession and was regaled, as he trudged along, with an +account of the affray at the inn. My capture was exceedingly popular, and +they gloated to my face over the doom in store for me, wrangling like +rooks as to the likeliest spot for my gibbet. The majority fixed it at the +Copt Oak, where, as they reminded me with shrill curses, I had murdered +poor old Bet o' th' Brew'us for a shilling and sixpence. It was a relief +to hear the host shout to Master Wicks, "Yon's th' Squire's!" + +We trooped up to a fair stone house of ancient date with a turret at the +tip of each wing. My luck was clean out. The Squire was not yet back home +from hunting, for he went out with the hounds every day the scent would +lie. He had ridden far, or was belated, or his horse had foundered, and +there was no telling, said his ruddy old butler, when he would be back. So +the villagers were driven off like cattle, Sultan was stabled, and we five +were accommodated in the great hall, for the host and the ostler stayed on +the ground that so dangerous a villain as Swift Nicks wanted a strong +guard. They put me under the great chimney and sat round me, in a half +circle, each man with a loaded pistol in one hand and a jug of ale in the +other. The Squire's lady came in and stood afar off examining me, and I +saw that she was in deadly fear of me, handcuffed and guarded as I was. + +Over an hour crawled by, taking with it my last chance of getting into +Derby, with my task accomplished, by six o'clock. What would Margaret +think of me? Her obvious pride in the honour the Prince had conferred upon +me by selecting me as his personal helper, had been a great delight to me, +and now I had failed him and disquieted her. The thought made me rage, and +I gave my captors black looks worthy of any tobie-man on the King's +highway. + +At last relief came in the shape of the Squire's youngest son, a stout +lad of some twelve years old, who raced in, rod in hand, and made up to me +without a trace of fear. He was in trouble about his rod, having snapped +the top joint in unhandily dealing with a fine chub. After some wrangling, +I got my hands freed, and set about splicing the joint. + +"They do say," said I mockingly, "as how Swift Nicks is a good hand at +splicing fishing-rods." + +"I never 'eerd tell of that'n," said the stolid ostler. + +"Are you really Swift Nicks, sir?" asked the lad, looking steadily at me +with frank, innocent eyes. + +"No more than you are Jonathan Wild or Prester John, my son," I answered. + +"Then who are you?" he persisted. + +"I'm a poor splicer of fishing-rods. I get my living by riding about the +country on a fine horse, with one pair of pistols in my holsters and +another pair in my pocket, looking for nice little boys with broken +fishing-rods, and mending 'em--the rods, not the boys--so that father +never finds it out and the rod's better than ever it was. How big was the +chub?" + +"That big!" said he, holding his hands about two feet apart. + +"The great advantage, my son, of having your rod mended by me is that +ever afterwards you'll be able to tell a chub from a whale." + +"Sir," said he proudly, "a Chartley never lies." + +"Of course," said I, "it's hard to say exactly how big a fish is when +you've missed him. So your name's Chartley. Is this Chartley Towers?" + +"It is," said he, with a taking boyish pride ringing in his voice. "We +are the Chartleys of Chartley Towers. We go back to Edward the Third." + +Did ever man enjoy such fat luck as mine? I had been as hard beset as a +nut in the nutcrackers. To prove that I was not Swift Nicks I should have +to prove that I was Oliver Wheatman. The Bow Street runner would see to +that, for, as Swift Nicks, I was worth fifty guineas to him, a sum of +money for which he would have hanged half the parish without a twinge. +Cross or pile, I should lose the toss. Drive away the cart! Such had been +my thoughts, and now a lad's young pride had snatched me out of danger. I +grew quite merry over the splicing, and told young Chartley all about my +fight with the great jack. + +The job was near on finished when there was a rattle of hoofs without, +and, a minute later, the door was flung open and in swept a torrent of +yapping foxhounds, followed by a big, hearty, noisy man in jack-boots and +a brown scratch bob-wig. + +"Dinner! Dinner!" he shouted to his wife, who came in to meet him. "The +best run o' the year, lass! Thirty miles before he earthed, the dogs +running breast-high every yard of it, and the very devil of a dig-out! +There was only me and parson and young Bob Eld o' Seighford in at the +death. Dinner, dinner, my lass! I could eat the side of a house. Hallo, +damme! What art doing here, Jack Grattidge?" + +The question was put to the host, who was shuffling down the hall to meet +him. The Squire slashed the dogs silent with his half-hunter to catch the +reply. + +"Please, y'r honour," said the host, "we've copped Swift Nicks." + +"By G--! You a'nt!" + +"We 'an," declared the host. + +"Hurrah!" roared the Squire. "That's news! I owe you a guinea for it, +Jack." + +He clumped up to the hearth, crying out as he came, "Show me the black, +bloody scoundrel! I'd crawl to London on my hands and knees to watch him +turned off." + +Seeing me engaged in the innocent task of mending his lad's fishing-rod, +with the lad himself at my knees intent on the work, he took Mr. Wicks for +the highwayman, and cursed and swore at him hard enough to rive an +oak-tree. He was, indeed, so hot and heady that it was some minutes before +his mistake could be brought home to him. By the time he realized that the +man mending the rod was Swift Nicks, he had fired off all his powder, and +only stared at me with wide-open eyes. + +"I suppose," said I, very politely, "that, as you've been hunting, the +chestnut is still on the hob." + +"I'm damned!" says he, and flops down into his elbow-chair. + + * * * * * + +In the end we made a treaty, to Mr. Wicks' great disgust, who saw the +guineas slipping through his fingers. Nor was the Squire less aggrieved at +first, for clearly it was to him a matter of high concern to nail Swift +Nicks. + +"What's it matter to us here who's got a crown on his head in London?" he +said. "London-folk care nothing for us, and we care nothing for them. But +Swift Nicks does matter. We want him hung. No man about here with any +sense bothers about your politics except at election-times, when politics +means a belly full of beer and a fist full of guineas for every damned +tinker and tallow-chandler in Leicester. But you, or that bloody villain +Swift Nicks, if you a'nt him, keep us sweating-cold o' nights. To hell +with your politics! Hang me Swift Nicks!" + +The terms of our treaty were that I was to remain peaceably and make a +night of it, giving my word to make no attempt to escape or harm anyone. +In the meantime, and at my proper charges, a post was to be sent to fetch +Nance Lousely and her father to give evidence on my behalf. + +"DEAR GHOSTIE,"--I wrote to her,--"I am in great danger because a +red-nosed man vows I am Swift Nicks. I want you and your father to come +and prove he's an ass. If you don't I am to be hung on a gibbet at a place +called the Copt Oak, and I can't abide gibbets, for they are cold and +draughty. So come at once, my brave Nance!--Your friend, + +"O. W." + +A groom was fetched and I told him how to get to Job Lousely's. He was +well mounted from the Squire's stables and set off. However quickly he did +his business, it would be many hours before he could be back. So I settled +down to make a night of it. + +There was nothing original in the Squire's way of making a night of it. +The parson who had been in at the death and who, during the settlement of +my affair, had been busy in the stables, now joined us at dinner. He was +but lately come from Cambridge, at which seat of learning the chief books +appeared to be Bracken's _Farriery_ and Gibson on the _Diseases of +Horses_, with Hoyle's _Whist_ as lighter reading for leisured +hours. He was a hard rider, a hard swearer, and a hard drinker, and, after +being double japanned, as he called it, by a friendly bishop, had been +pitchforked by the Squire into a neighbouring parish of three hundred a +year in order that the Squire's dogs and hounds, and the game and poachers +on the estate, might have the benefit of his ministrations. He had, +however, sense enough to buy good sermons. "At any rate the women tell me +they're good," explained the Squire. "I can't say for myself, for Joe's a +reasonable cock, and always shuts up as soon as I wake up." + +The Bow Street runner, Mr. Wicks, and the red-nosed petty constable of +the hundred, who answered to the name of Pinkie Yates, were of the party. +I ate little and drank less, but the others emptied the bottles at a +great pace and were soon hot with drink. One brew, which the huntsmen +quaffed with much zest, I insisted, out of regard for my stomach, on +passing round untouched, though the men of law took their share like +heroes, and, I doubt not, thought they were for once hob-nobbing with the +gods. The manner of it was thus. The parson drew from his pocket a leg of +the fox they had killed that day, and, stinking, filthy, and bloody as it +was, squeezed and stirred it in a four-handled tyg of claret. In this evil +compound the Squire solemnly gave us the huntsman's toast: + + "_Horses sound. Dogs hearty, + Earth's stopped, and Foxes plenty_." + +The parson then hiccoughed a song for which he should have been put in +the stocks, after which Mr. Wicks, with three empty bottles and three +knives to stand for the gallows, gave us a vivid account of the +turning-off of the famous Captain Suck Ensor, who kicked and twitched for +ten minutes before his own claimed him. + +It was five o'clock next morning before my courier returned with Nance +Lousely and her father. I had gone to sleep in the Squire's elbow-chair +before the hall fire, with the zealous thief-takers in attendance, turn +and turn about, as sentries over me, fifty guineas being well worth +guarding. The butler watched at the door, wakefully anxious to earn the +crown I had promised him. The noise he made in unchaining and unbolting +the door awakened me, and it warmed my heart to see Nance standing timidly +just inside the hall, her hand in her father's, till she spied me, when +she broke away and ran up to me. + +"You knew I'd come, sir, didn't you?" she said, appealing to me more with +her pretty anxious face than by her words. + +"Of course, ghostie!" I replied promptly. + +"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in +my words or face, she would have broken down. + +"Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are +you. Job? Much obliged to you both." + +"We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse +afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor +that'n. Our Nance nearly bust. Gom, she did that'n." + +"Your Nance is a darling," said I, stroking her disordered hair. + +At my request backed by a promise to turn the crown into half a guinea, +the butler got them some breakfast. Fortunately the Squire and the parson +were due at a duck-shooting ten miles off by seven o'clock, and so were +stirring early. My matter was soon settled. The Squire sat magisterially +in his elbow-chair, and Nance and her father told their tale, precisely as +I had told it before them. It cleared me and made the thief-catchers look +mightily confused and sheepish, and very relieved they were when, as a +politic way of staving off awkward questions, I grandly accepted their +apologies. + +"I knew you weren't Swift Nicks," said the Squire, "when I saw you +mending my lad's fishing-rod. Damme, we'll get him though, before we've +done." + +He invited me to join him at breakfast, where we were alone for the first +time. + +"Is it into the fire or into the fender?" he asked meaningly. + +I was ready for him and, stopping with the carving knife half-way through +a fine ham I was slicing, said, as if amazed, "Is what into the fire or +into the fender?" + +"The chestnut," said he. + +"The chestnut!" I retorted. + +"Well, well! I don't blame you for your caution, sir. Sir James Blount +sounded me and I know you know my reply. Whether fire or fender will make +no difference to me, and I wouldn't miss to-day's duck-shoot to make it +either." + +"I hope there'll be plenty of birds, and strong on the wing," said I. + +This ended all the talk that passed between us on the great event that +had so strangely brought us together. He, the squire of half a dozen +villages, went duck-shooting while the destiny of England was being +settled just outside his own door. + +For the second time Nance walked a space by my side to wish me good-bye. + +"Nance, my sweet lass," said I, pulling Sultan up, "do you know that +dirty little ale-house near your home?" + +"Where the painted woman lives, sir?" + +"That very place! Now Swift Nicks is hiding there. Go back and tell the +Squire you can find Swift Nicks for him, and they'll fill your pinner with +guineas. You'll kiss me for a pinnerfull of guineas, won't you?" + +"No, sir," said she very decidedly. + +"Then kiss me, Nance, because, though we shall never meet again, we've +helped one another when we did meet." + +She put her foot on mine, and I lifted her up in my arms and kissed her +red young lips and tear-stained cheeks. + +"Good-bye, Nance!" + +"Good-bye, sir. God bless you!" + +At a bend in the road I turned to look at her again. She was standing +there, looking after me, and waved her bonnet in farewell. I took off my +hat and waved back, and then she was gone from sight. + +"She's a good girl is Nance," said I aloud, "and you, curse you, are the +cause of all my troubles"--this to my new hat. My foppery had cost me +dear. What would the Prince say to my failure? What would Margaret say? +There would once more be questionings in her eyes, and the shadow of doubt +on her face. + +"Curse you!" I said again to the hat, and then, with a swift, strong +sweep of my arm, sent it spinning into a brook. + +Sultan showed his points. He did ten miles in fifty minutes by my watch, +accurate timing and counting from one milestone to another. + +At last the broad Trent came in sight and I rattled over Swarkston +bridge, only to be pulled up on the other side by a strong post of +Highlanders. My luck still held, however, for Donald was amongst them, +and, on his explaining who I was, the chief in command let me pass. + +Donald trotted by my side for half a mile to give me all the news. The +Prince had lain all night at Derby in the Earl of Exeter's house. There +had been many rumours and wranglings among the chiefs at night, a council +of war was fixed for this morning, and no one knew what it was all about. +There had been great doings overnight in the town, and he, Donald, had +stood guard at the Prince's lodging. + +"She dinged 'em a', as I tell't ye she would," he said. "Losh, man, it +was a grand sight to see her an' the bonny Maclachlan gliding ower ta +flure in ta dancin'. They were like twa gowden eagles gliding in the air +ower a ben wi' ta sun shinin' on it. Losh, man, I tell it ye, they're a +bonny, bonny pair. Got pless 'em." + +"Good-bye, Donald! I'll push on. Damn Swift Nicks!" I cried, and gave +Sultan such a dig in the flanks that he shot ahead like an arrow from a +bow. I was sorry immediately, but it was more than I could stand. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE COUNCIL AT DERBY + + +It was a relief to get into the chock-full streets of the town, where +thinking was impossible and good round cursing indispensable. Even with +its aid in clearing a course for him, Sultan tumbled over a brace of +Highlanders, two of a swarm of Maclachlans and Macdonalds who were +disputing possession of a cutler's shop on the corner of Bag Street. After +their native fashion, they immediately suspended their quarrel to unite +against a common foe, but on a Maclachlan recognizing me as a friend, went +at one another again with infinite zest, and I saw them hard at it as I +turned into the market-square. + +Our meagre collection of cannon had been packed here with their +appendancies, and I was threading my way through them to the far side of +the square, where stands Exeter House, and was within a flick of a pebble +of it, when the Colonel ran out, bareheaded and eager, and came up to me. + +"You young dog! What's happened?" said he. + +"I've lost my hat, sir," I replied. + +"Lost your--Damme! I'll have you court-martialled yet before I've done +with you. Off you come! Hello, my precious. Hitch him to the tail of yon +wagon and come along. The Prince saw you from the window. Steady, my +beauty! Come along, Noll! Fancy a town the size of this and not a damned +pinch of Strasburg in it!" + +I hurried after him through the hall and up the stairs. Something big was +in hand beyond a doubt, for hall and stairs were thronged with groups of +Highland leaders, and in one set, somewhat apart, I saw Murray and +Ogilvie. The Colonel took no notice of the curious looks that were cast +upon us, particularly me, but, after a word with the chief on duty, +ushered me unceremoniously into the presence. + +Charles was taking short turns up and down near the hearth, but stopped +as I bowed before him. + +"You've failed me!" he said bitterly. + +"I have carried out your Royal Highness's commands exactly, though, to my +deep regret, not punctually, but every hour I am late has been spent under +arrest. In riding on your business, sir, I have ridden up to the foot of +the gallows." + +I spoke quietly but crisply, for I would not be girded at unjustly, no, +not by a prince. He took my meaning, and answered generously, "As I knew +you would, Master Wheatman, if need were." + +The noble panelled room in which we were was set out with a long table +and many chairs. At the head of the table a mean-looking man was busily +writing. At the window two other men stood in earnest conversation, and +these, as I learned later, were the Irishmen, Sir Thomas Sheridan and +Colonel O'Sullivan. + +"Leave your dispatch, Mr. Secretary, and come hither. And you, too, +gentlemen!" said Charles. + +So, with the Prince sitting near the fire and the four leaders ranged +behind him, I stood and told my tale, cutting out all that was meaningless +from their point of view. As I had expected, there was no mistaking its +effect on him. I had indeed, come back empty-handed. Yet he pulled himself +together and said lightly, "Well, gentlemen, if the men of the Midlands +are not for me, they are certainly not against me." + +"That is a strong point in your favour, sir," said O'Sullivan. + +"When I've thrashed the Duke and got into London," said Charles, buoyed +up at once by any straw of comfort, "they'll be round me like wasps round +a honey-pot. I wasn't clear last night, but Master Wheatman has decided +me. I ride into London in Highland dress." + +"I applaud the decision of Your Royal Highness," said the foxy secretary. +"It is a merited compliment to your brave clansmen." He afterwards ratted +and so helped to hang some of the best of them. + +"Now for your dispatch to the Marquis," said Charles, going towards the +secretary's papers. "There's time to look at it before Murray and his +supports arrive." O'Sullivan walked softly to one of the windows +overlooking the square, and we followed him. + +"Faith, Colonel," said he. "The game's up if we go on." + +"It is," said the Colonel, tapping at his box. "Damn this rappee, Oliver. +I'd as lief sniff at sawdust." + +"But if the Prince wants to go on, I back him up," added O'Sullivan. + +"So do I," said Sir Thomas. + +"So do I," echoed the Colonel, "but, damme, I shall tell him the precise +truth about the military aspect of the situation. One's my duty as a +soldier just as much as the other. I haven't the least objection to dying, +but be damned if I want my reputation to die with me. The most you can say +of rappee, Oliver, is that it's better than nothing." + +"That's just what I've been thinking, sir," said I, with equal gravity, +"about my old hat." + +"You're keeping that story for Margaret, you young dog, but she's bound +to tell me. I was out of bed till two o'clock this morning, listening to +her clatter about getting married quick, and walls of Troy, and ham and +eggs. She nearly prated the top of my head off, and did not kiss me +good-night till I'd told her for the seventeenth time that there was no +need to worry about you. Seventeen times"--a vigorous sniff and a merry +twinkle--"I counted 'em." + +It was obvious nonsense, but it pained me. + +"It was very kind of her, sir," I said at last. + +"Humph!" said he, and turned to talk with the Irishmen. I kept a sharp +look out on the square below, hoping for a glimpse of Margaret, paying no +heed to the earnest conversation buzzing in my ear. Princes and dominions, +and marches and battles, were nothing to me as I stood there fighting for +mastery over myself. + +I was pulled back from these slippery tracks of thought by the Colonel, +who gripped my arm and whispered, "Here they come, Oliver." + +I looked to the door and saw the chiefs filing into the room, led by +Murray, with the greater ones immediately behind him and the others in due +degree, till the room was fairly crowded. Charles continued his colloguing +with Mr. Secretary while they disposed themselves according to their rank +in council, though the Duke of Perth was pleased to take his stand on the +hearth among some of the smaller sort. Sir Thomas Sheridan and Colonel +O'Sullivan left us and seated themselves nearer the Prince, and when they +had done so, and while there was still some noisy settling down to be +done, I whispered to the Colonel, "Oughtn't I to go out now, sir?" + +"I'm for going on to London," said he, grinning at me with his eyes, +though he kept the face of a wooden image. "And first thing we do, Oliver, +we'll lead a desperate attack, you and I, on a tobacco-man's. Damme! +There's wagon-loads of Strasburg in London!" + +"Suppose I start off now, sir, and mark down one or two of the primest." + +"Suppose you stay where you are, lad," he replied. "You're here by +rights: first, because the Prince asked ye here and has not dismissed you, +and you never leave the presence of royalty till royalty kicks you out; +secondly"--pausing to take a pinch of rappee that would have lifted the +roof of my head off--"because you can't have less sense than some of these +chatterers. Council of war! Mob of parliament-men!" + +Thus it came about that, thanks to Swift Nicks, I was present at the +great council which was to decide the fate of the Stuarts. I pushed behind +the Colonel, so that I could now and again steal a peep for Margaret. Just +at the last minute, with Charles lifting his eyes up to begin, the door +opened again to admit Maclachlan, red with the haste he had been making. +It made me grit my teeth to see him, for I knew why he was so hot. He had +been fluttering around Margaret, and so had lost count of time. Then I +stopped my gritting and started grinning. Much Margaret would think of a +man who neglected his soldiering to dangle at her apron-strings! + +His Royal Highness, after his usual habit, opened the Council by stating +his own opinion. + +"I have called you together, gentlemen," he said, "to consider our next +step. The question is: Shall we march west, cut the Duke's forces in two, +and so beat him, or, shall we take advantage of the fact that we are +nearer London than he is, press on, and take possession of the Capital? I +am strongly for the second plan." + +"Damme, sir! Well put!" said the Colonel under his breath. And indeed it +was so well put that the chiefs looked rather hopelessly at one another, +for this was by no means the alternative that they had in mind. It was to +them, as soon appeared, no choice between south and west that they had +come to discuss, but the much more important choice between south and +north. For a minute or two there was a muttering of Gaelic, which the +Prince did not understand, at any rate, so far as the words were +concerned. Then Lord George Murray rose, bowed profoundly to the Prince, +and began the case for the chiefs. + +"The Duke of Cumberland," he said, "was that night at Stafford with an +army of ten thousand foot and two thousand horse. Mr. Wade was coming by +hard marches down the east road and could easily get between His Royal +Highness's army and Scotland. They had authentic news that an army was +being encamped on the north of London. If, then, they marched to London +they would have two armies in their rear and one in front of them, and, +high as he rated the valour and prowess of the army he had the honour, +under His Royal Highness, of commanding, it was vain to suppose that they +could defeat three armies each at least twice as numerous as they. None of +the advantages on which they had relied when they agreed to enter England +had been realized. They had received no accession of strength worth +considering from the English Jacobites; the population were not friendly +but at all times surly and neutral, and on all possible occasions openly +hostile; the promised French invasion had not even been attempted. +Scotland they had won for His Majesty and could and should keep it for +him. To do this required them to return with all speed and with +undiminished forces. On all these grounds he, and those for whom he spoke, +implored His Royal Highness to return thither and consolidate his forces +for a fresh attempt under more favourable conditions." + +His lordship had spoken calmly and with no outward sign of feeling except +that, as he got toward the end of his speech and his drift became open and +manifest, his voice gained more and more emphasis as he saw the +undisguised impatience and growing anger of Charles. The Prince paid no +courteous attention to the arguments of his chief military adviser, but +shot eager glances round the ring of faces, and particularly at His Grace +of Perth, who was visibly flattered by this mute appeal. The Colonel, who +noted all this by-play, was nettled by the Prince's indifference to +military authority, and whispered, "Well done, Geordie Murray! Right as a +trivet!" + +The speech done, the Prince struck his clenched fist on the table and +said, "I am for marching on London." + +It was plain, however, that the chiefs were against him almost to a man. +Murray was clearly in the right, and his military skill and experience +gave him great authority. As yet there was no open murmuring against the +Prince; nothing but manifest determination not to be won over by his +cajoleries or threats. + +"Why should we not go on?" demanded the Prince passionately. "Here we +are, masters of the heart of England. A quick, bold stroke, and London is +ours. The game is in our hands." + +"Game?" cried a rugged, headstrong chief, Macdonald of Glencoe. "The +game's up, sir, thanks to these beer-swilling English friends of your +house, who are Jacobites only round a cosy fire with mugs in their hands." + +"They are only awaiting an earnest of victory," said Charles. + +"Waiting for us to do the work," said Glencoe bitterly, "and then blithe +they'll be to hansel the profits. We can gang back to Scotland as quick as +we like when we've ance got London for 'em!" + +There was a growl of assent from the chiefs, but silence fell again when +the venerable Tullibardine, too racked with gout to stand, took up the +word. + +He spoke as one who had grown old and weary and poor in the service of +the exiled House. The conditions of success, he said, had always been the +same: the Highland adherents of His Majesty could never hope to be more +than the centre around which the real sources of strength, English support +and French aid, might gather; and these had failed now as they had failed +in '15. "I dare not," he concluded, "lift my voice to urge men to take +risks which I am too feeble to share." + +Charles put up a stout fight, but it was no use. Chief after chief had +his say, and then said it again and again. Maclachlan shifted from his +place near the door to the corner of the hearth and, after whispering a +while with the Duke of Perth, confusedly gave his opinion in favour of +going back. + +He was no sort of a speaker, being ill at ease, and plainly occupied in +rummaging about in his mind. Having wits, however, he stumbled on a new +line of argument. + +"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in. +There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, and +its moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising a +great army for the spring." + +"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him. + +Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefs +was a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action. +There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering and +incapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant in +dealing with a man by himself. + +Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to his +feet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He was +almost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, jutting +cheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like a +rat-trap. + +"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If we +dinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barely +a dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' the +name, will ride on my back for the rest of my days." + +"Ye're in the right of it, Strowan," said my Lord Ogilvie. "There's too +few of us for this work, but a little peat will boil a little pot. Let us +gang back and raddle the Glasgow bodies. Ye hae my advice, sir!" + +Here the Prince, to my mind, made a fatal mistake. He had begun by trying +to carry matters merely by the weight of his royal authority. This was +ever his plan in council, and as long as things went well it served, since +the chiefs, looking forward as they then did to ultimate triumph, were not +willing to risk his displeasure by standing out against him. Now that they +were in a tight corner this cock would fight no longer, and he made +matters worse by appealing to the Irishman, O'Sullivan, for his opinion. +He briefly gave it in favour of going on. + +One tale will hold till another's told. O'Sullivan had a great reputation +as a master of the irregular mode of fighting, which must be adopted by an +army composed, like ours, of untrained men not equipped according to the +rules and requirements of soldiership. But my Lord George Murray was ready +for him. + +"Great as Colonel O'Sullivan's reputation is, sir," he said sweetly, "we +have with us in Colonel Waynflete another soldier of great distinction. +His views would be welcome, sir." + +"Yes, indeed," said the Prince eagerly. + +"For myself, sir," said the Colonel, snuff-box open in hand, for he had +been surprised with the rappee between his fingers, "I am ready to go on. +I came to serve your Royal Highness, and I serve my commander as he +chooses, not as I would choose myself. But when you ask me as to the +military result of going on, I tell you frankly, as becomes a soldier of +experience asked in Council to deliver his opinion, that it is idle to +expect this present force to get to London. As you get nearer London, sir, +the country becomes of a kind which your army could not successfully +operate in. It would be confined to roads lined with hedges and passing +through many defendable towns and villages. Your short, powerful charges +would be out of the question. The English as a whole fight well, no men +better; we can't rationally expect all of them to run off at a Highland +yell, and with the country in their favour and London behind them, a +source of constant fresh supplies to them, we should be wiped out in +detail. Your Royal Highness wishes to go on, and therefore I am willing to +go on, but your Royal Highness cannot capture London with the force at +your disposal." + +He finished and took his snuff with zest, seeing that it was still +rappee, and handed me the box with great composure. + +In all they talked and wrangled for three hours, and I got very tired of +it all and spent my time looking through the window for Margaret. There +would be no profit in setting down more of what was said. Indeed, no fresh +point was raised until the Prince argued vehemently in favour of turning +off for Wales, where his adherents were supposed to be very strong. + +This produced a fresh crop of speeches, all on one note--the necessity of +starting back for Scotland. + +The Duke of Perth had been silent so far. He had stood on the hearth, +near the fire, the warmth of which he stood greatly in need of, being +slight and weakly. He had turned his eyes from one speaker to another as +the debate went on, and had gently rubbed the back of his head against the +panelling, as if to stimulate thought. The speech of Colonel Waynflete +plainly had a great effect on him, and I could see that he was making up +his mind, for he continued the gentle rubbing of his head but took no note +of the wrangling and jangling about the Welsh project. The storm lulled, +for it had blown itself out. Everything sayable had been said times out of +number. + +"I am for marching back at once," he declared in a loud voice. + +I was heartily sorry for the Prince. In his mind's eye he had seen +himself in the palace of his fathers with a nation repentant at his feet. +He did not know England,--no Stuart ever did,--or he would have known that +the wave of chivalry that had carried him so far was bound to spend itself +on the indifferent English as a wave spends itself on the indifferent +sands. Yet it was hard to go back, hard to know that he had done so much +more than his grandfather in '89 or his father in '15, and done it in +vain. His standard was proudly flaunting in the heart of England over the +grave of his cause. + +But he died well. "Rather than go back," he cried, "I would wish to be +twenty feet under ground!" + +With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Council. + +"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I am +aide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the 'Bald-Faced +Stag' in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should find +Margaret there, and Mr. Freake." + +I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr. Secretary, moved +thereto by the Prince, sidled up to me, his sly eyes overrunning the +outgoing chiefs as he came. He laid his hand on my arm, which gave me the +creeps, and said, "His Royal Highness would speak with you, sir." + +He sidled back again with me behind him, wondering how far one fair kick +would lift him. I stood stiff and awkward before the Prince, who, however, +addressed the Colonel. + +"Your speech was a shrewd blow to me, Colonel. Nay, don't protest! You +did a soldier's duty by me in Council as you will do it in battle. I ask +no more." + +"And I shall do no less, sir," said the Colonel. + +"Well, give me a pinch of snuff, and I'll ask your advice on another +military point." + +This was the straight way to the Colonel's heart, taking snuff and +talking soldiership being to him the twin boons of life. + +Charles took his rappee thoughtfully and then said, "What is the best way +of dealing with a solid body of the enemy with inferior forces?" + +"Split 'em up and smash 'em in detail, sir." + +"What d'ye say to that, Tom Sheridan?" asked Charles. + +"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied Sir +Thomas. + +"Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, with +great good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning you +used to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatman +writhe to hear it. The only advantage I ever got out of being a Prince was +that old Tom here never dared thrash me for gulping up his rubbish." + +"Master Wheatman knows Latin enough to stock a couple of bishops, sir," +said the Colonel. + +"The devil he does!" said Charles admiringly. "He'll come in handy for +writing me a letter to His Holiness." + +"It's not such bad stuff as all that, sir," said I, glad of a chance of +saying something, for I had been hurt to the quick by talk that reminded +me of how I had quizzed Jack's classics in Old Comfit's entry. + +"To come back to the Colonel's advice," said Charles. "I've split 'em up +and now I'm going to smash 'em in detail. We're not going back, sirs, if I +can help it. Master Wheatman,"--and here he naturally and unaffectedly +took on a princely tone--"we appoint you our assistant aide-de-camp, and +desire your attendance on our person during the day, under the more +immediate authority of our excellent friend, Colonel Waynflete." + +At a sign from the Colonel, which I was lucky enough to see the meaning +of, I dropped on my knee before the Prince. + +"Thank you, Master Wheatman," said Charles, in his ordinary frank way, +when I rose. "You're worth a hundred rats like young Maclachlan." + +I coloured, partly with the praise and partly because I was wondering how +many Smite-and-spare-nots I was worth. + +I was then closely questioned about the lie of the land to the south of +Stafford and Derby. After a long consultation, the Prince dismissed me, +with a gracious invitation to be one of the Royal party at dinner, +promising me, with a sly smile, that the company should be to my liking. + +The Colonel and I withdrew. In the corridor he put me in charge of an +upper servant of the household, and went to see to Sultan. + +My new acquaintance was an elderly man of a solemn, soapy aspect, set off +by a sober black livery and a neat wig. He took me up to a bedroom, and +saw to my comfort. + +"William, or whatever it is," I began. + +"William it is, sir," said he. + +"Do I look like an assistant aide-de-camp to a prince?" + +He took stock of me, from my dirty boots to my bare head, and then said +solemnly, "No, sir!" + +"William," said I, "but that's precisely what I am." + +"Yes, sir," he replied. + +"Therefore this is precisely your opportunity, William." + +"Yes, sir," said he. + +"William," I went on insinuatingly, "I think you could, knowing this +house so intimately as you do, make me look something like an assistant +aide-de-camp to a prince. It's a tough job, William, but you'll do it. I +can see it in your eye. By virtue of the power adherent to the assistant +aide-de-camp of a prince, we hereby authorize you to do all things that +may be necessary for the accomplishment of our purpose, and, when your +task is over, you will, by a curious coincidence, find five guineas under +yon candlestick. Life, William, is full of coincidences." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But not as full of guineas, William, as it should be. Set to work!" + +Instead of going he stood there, gently washing his hands with imaginary +soap and water, and finally said, "You will of course, sir, be very angry +if I do not do as you bid me." + +"I shall, William," said I, lathering away at my chin. + +"I may take it, sir, that you'll blow my brains out if I don't." + +"Blow your--Oh, I see! Certainly!" said I, tailing off from astonishment +into understanding. + +The quiet humour of the man was delightful. I fetched a pistol out of my +pocket and added gravely, "William, unless I am, in appearance as well as +in fact, a prince's assistant aide-de-camp in half an hour, I'll blow your +brains out. Now clear out, while I have a bath!" + +"Thankee, sir. It'll be all right now. My lord is, I should say, just of +a size with your honour." + +William was an artist and fitted me out with the nothing-too-much of +exact taste. There were garments by the score that would have made a +popinjay of me, but he knew better, and turned a sober young yeoman into a +sober young gentlemen, and there's no harder task, as I have frequently +observed since. + +"Sir," said he at length, stepping back a few paces to con me over, "in +any other man I should deplore the obstinacy-excuse my plainness, +sir--which declines to wear a wig, but the general result, the _tout +ensemble_, as my lord would put it, is agreeable." + +"William," I replied, "you err through ignorance--excuse my plainness, +William. The best Wheatman of the Hanyards that ever lived would have +burned at the stake rather than wear a wig. I've done most of the other +things he would have burned for, but I'll stick by him to this extent that +I'll be damned if I'll wear a wig." + +I never have, and it is no small measure due to me that the wearing of +wigs is being left to lawyers and doctors, who, I understand, find it pays +to look old and old-fashioned. + +"Quite so, sir! A very proper sentiment," said William, with his eye on +the candlestick. "It's family pride that keeps the great families agoing, +sir, and they're the backbone of the Constitution, sir!" + +After this high sentence, as I was ready to go, he gravely escorted me to +the door and bowed me out. I dropped my ear to the keyhole and heard the +chink of the guineas. William clearly had a very pretty appreciation of +the best means of keeping himself agoing. A suaver, defter rascal I have +never set eyes on. + +I had already so much of soldiership as to know that it is well to master +the ins and cuts and roundabouts of a strange house. If an emergency comes +it may be the best guide to action. "Know your ground and win your fight," +the Colonel used to say, and it's as true of a house as of a province. So +I walked softly and watchfully about, and in doing so had turned sharp to +the right to gain a view of the river and the gardens, when I came on the +Lady Ogilvie. She was kneeling on a cushioned settle, resting her chin in +her hands, and her elbows on the high back of the seat. + +She turned to see who it was. Her face was clouded over, but the sun of +her smile broke through in a flash, and she darted joyously at me. + +"It's the incomparable one!" she cried, bubbling over with merriment. +"Nay, I vow, it's the still more incomparable one. Losh, man, and ye look +bonny! I'm telling it ye, and I've seen more bonny men than you've seen +bullocks. Sit down and tell me where you've been and what you've done. +Davie says you tell't him I was very, very guid. And so I am," she ended +complacently, "and if any man says the differ...." + +"He'll do well to keep out of Davie's road and mine," I cut in, as I was +building up the cushions into a soft corner for her. + +"You're an unco' guid lad," she said, wriggling into her nest, "an' if it +werena for some one I ken I'd gie ye anither kiss." + +I willingly admit that I wished Davie far enough, for she was a very +dainty lady, with a mouth like an open rose-bud. + +We had a long talk, for I told her all about my doings with ghost, +thieves, thief-catchers, and baby Blount. She enjoyed it to the top of her +bent. Then, when I had come to the end of my tale, she sobered all of a +sudden, and said, "Oliver, what's going to happen to us?" + +"I don't know," said I. + +"There's something in the wind I dinna like. Davie's a' for ganging back. +We women ought never to have come. Davie can think o' naething but me. As +if I mattered a tup's head, the silly gomeril, bless him! Now there's your +Maclachlan. He'd go to London if it was full o' deevils to fetch a +stay-lace for Margaret, but he's a' for the homeward gait too!" + +"The best military opinion is that it is hopeless to go on," said I. + +"And I dinna think it's much better to gae back, laddie. It's a retreat. +Ca' it what you like, you can mak' nae ither thing of it, and these +Highland bodies, ance they retreat, will break to bits. Naething will keep +the main of 'em taegither, ance they cross the Highland line again. Sae +it's a black look out, Oliver, but I dinna mind ane wee bit. If I'd no +been a Jacobite, I'd never hae met my Davie yonder. He's worth it a', is +Davie." + +"It's a hard task for any man to be worthy of your ladyship," said I, +"but Davie's worthy if any man is." + +"And Davie reckons you're fine," she replied, smiling. "Margaret pit him +doon for three dances, and sat in a corner with him through 'em a'. I +wonder the incomparable one's lugs"--I knew what she meant because she +pinched one--"arena burnt off his head. You should hae seen Maclachlan +ranting and raving like an auld doited tup!" + +"It is pleasant to learn that Mistress Waynflete is so interested in my +doings," said I, with as much coolness and aloofness as I could muster. I +would at least keep my foolishness on my own side of my teeth. + +"Unco pleasant, I hae nae doot," was her dry comment. And she set her red +lips aslant as if she were swallowing vinegar. + +I remembered my new function, and looked at my watch. I had long overrun +the hour the Colonel had given me. + +"Your ladyship will pardon me," said I, springing up, "but I'm overdue +for duty." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes. His Royal Highness has appointed me assistant aide-de-camp to +himself." + +I spoke with much impressiveness but, to my chagrin, instead of the +congratulations that were my due on such an occasion, she looked concerned +and almost angry, and cried, "The very deil's in it!" + +"I am sorry your ladyship is displeased," I said coldly. Scot clings to +Scot, and she did not like it. + +"Displeased, ye daft gomeril!" she retorted. "And I suppose you'll be +pleased, and Margaret will shout for joy, if ye get a dirk in your +assistant aide-de-camp's ribs ane o' these fine nights. Just understand +ance for a', my friend, that a Highlander kills a man wi' as little +compunction as an Englishman squashes a beetle. There's nane o' your +law-and-order bodies beyont the Highland line." + +"Nothing but common murderers!" said I hotly. "I have heard much of the +virtues of the Highlanders of late, but this surprises me." + +"Hoots! Murderers?" she cried. "No such silly Saxon whimsies. They've got +as many virtues as any Englisher that ever snivelled prayer and shortened +yardstick. Murderers! Hoots, my mannie! Just removers of difficulties!" + +So she turned it off with a jest in her pretty way, and got up and jigged +along the corridor with me after her, longing to jig it with her, but +hobbled by my new dignity. I had no clear notion of an assistant +aide-de-camp's duties, but felt that they required a certain solemnity of +manner inconsistent with her ladyship's grasshopper ways. + +In the end, she dancing and I lumbering along, we came on a cheerful +group collected in the corridor below. There was the Prince, the Duke of +Perth, the Lord Ogilvie, the two Irishmen, Mr. Secretary, the Colonel, a +strange lady or two, and Margaret. + +"I thought your ladyship was lost," said Charles, smiling. + +"On the contrary, sir," she retorted, "I was found." + +"The usual explanation," he commented lightly. + +"A most unusual explanation, sir," she countered deftly, "for Mr. +Wheatman has been explaining how it came to pass that he kissed a ghost." + +"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone. + +"It wasna necessary," she said airily. + +"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amused +by the dialogue. + +"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not the +advantage of knowing Master Wheatman." + +He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on, +"I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman of +the Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from the +gentry of his shire." + +It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentried +me in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack in +my coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himself +singularly graceful. + +There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Prince +with one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formal +pairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was coming +for Margaret, and thus left her to me. + +She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked at +me, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, Sir +Kiss-the-ghost!" + +"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly. + +She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly, +"Sensible ghost!" + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST + + +Dinner was a success from the Prince's point of view. The Duke was +completely won over to the idea of our going on, and even the Lord Ogilvie +at one time wavered before the Prince's onslaught. The Irishmen were +strongly in favour of it, and Mr. Secretary, when thawed by wine, grew +expansive over its advantages. I incline to think that the rascal had +ratted already, and was anxious to get all he could out of the Government +by leading the Prince into a trap. Trap it would have been, as Culloden +plainly showed. Against English regular soldiers, resolutely led, the +Highlanders would work no more miracles. + +So for a space the chatter and laughter went on. Charles was already in +St. James's, and the ladies were already queening it in the new Court over +the renegade beauties of the old one. Even Margaret caught some of the +enthusiasm, so that I whispered to her, "You beat our Kate at counting +your unhatched chickens." + +Whereat she sobered all of a sudden, and whispered, "Maybe you are right, +Oliver!" + +"I hope for your sake they are true prophets," I said. "I should dearly +like to see you a marchioness before I go back to my farming." + +"That's one of the chickens I've not counted," she said. + +She looked at me very steadily, and then turned and plunged into the +stream of conversation flowing around her. + +Her father had steered clear of all awkward topics, taking for granted +that we were going on. Charles got less cautious as he got surer, and +moreover, as I could not but observe, he was mellowing somewhat under the +brandy he was drinking. Princes commonly have no judgment of men, having +never the need of noting their humours in order to mould them to their +will. So now Charles bluntly attacked the Colonel again on the military +aspect of the situation, which was merely butting against a stone wall. + +"You must remember, Colonel," he said, "that my Highlanders have driven +the English soldiery before them like sheep. They wiped out an army of +them at Gladsmuir in less than fifteen minutes, and only lost thirty men +killed in doing it." + +"Sir," said the Colonel, "give me one thousand English soldiers for a +week and I'll pit them against any thousand Highlanders you like to bring +against 'em." + +"Then it's a good job you're on my side," said Charles. + +"It is indeed, sir," said the Colonel, very quietly, "and under favour, +sir, you will be well advised to have your troops exercised in the best +ways of charging men who don't mean to run from them. There's no military +science wanted to beat men who run away from you as soon as you attack. As +I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance, +throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he +catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather shield, +where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife +through a cheese." + +"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily. + +"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command +against you." + +There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the +Prince poured out his third glass of brandy. Everybody was intent on the +dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the +napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure +in a Euclid book. + +"How would you stop it, sir?" + +It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy. + +"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely. + +"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently. + +"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more +important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue." + +"Then I only answer, as in the presence of God, for myself," said he +piously. + +"Leaving God to look after Mr. Secretary," said Charles, banging his +empty glass on the table. "I'll answer for the rest. So get on with your +plan, Colonel." + +"His Royal Highness has selected the easier task," whispered Margaret in +my ear. + +"Well, sir," began the Colonel, "I should say to my men: 'When the +Highlanders charge, take no notice of the man who is coming straight at +you. Keep your eye on his left-hand man, who is coming at your right-hand +man. Don't fire at him till you can see the whites of his eyes, and if you +don't bring him down with the bullet, have at him and thrust your bayonet +into his right ribs. There's no buckler there, and his right arm will be +up to strike. The man coming at you will be attended to in the same way by +your left-hand man.' After a week's practice in that little trick, sir, I +should face any charge your Highlanders liked to make, and would bet a +thousand guineas to this pinch of rappee--poor stuff as it is--on stopping +'em dead in their tracks." + +"By gad! and so you would, sir!" said my Lord Ogilvie explosively. + +"It sounds feasible," said old Sir Thomas, "but fortunately Colonel +Waynflete is with us, and can teach us new tricks." + +"Of course he can," said Charles. "What do you say, Master Wheatman? You +know him." + +"That old poachers make the best gamekeepers, sir," I answered. + +"_Nom de chien_," cried the Colonel, twirling fiercely round on me. +Margaret, who sat between us, laughingly pretended to protect me from him, +and he thrust his snuff-box across at me. + +The Prince rose, and, followed by Murray, left the room. We all stood +gossiping together. Ogilvie and O'Sullivan talked very earnestly about the +Colonel's trick. His Grace of Perth ogled Margaret off towards the window +on pretence of showing her some sight of interest in the square. + +"Did they leave him in the lurch?" twittered a voice mockingly in my ear. +It was my lady Ogilvie. + +"It must be nice to be with a duke," said I, very glum and miserable +again all of a sudden. + +"It's a great deal nicer to be with a man," she answered. "Come and help +me throw crumbs to the pretty wee birdies in the garden." + +In his attempt to 'smash 'em in detail' the Prince was acute enough to +use the Colonel, and condescending enough to use me, as supporters. The +unrivalled military skill which the Colonel would devote to the winning of +London was dwelt upon until even the Colonel, in no wise inclined to +under-estimate it, got restive, and snuffed and pshawed with great vigour. +I, of course, was the early, strong-winged swallow that announced the +flights of laggards behind. + +There were some dozen chiefs of considerable position in the Prince's +army, and he tackled them one by one, and tried to argue them into his way +of thinking. Some he sent for to his lodging; others he visited in theirs--a +special but wasted mark of distinction. On the whole they would not +budge. They were courteous and respectful, for they were gentlemen, and he +was their Prince, but their minds were made up and they would not +surrender their wills to his. Mostly, in their talk, they simply chewed +over again the morning's cud. + +Mr. Secretary went off as envoy to fetch the chiefs to Exeter House, +where the Prince received them in his little private chamber overlooking +the gardens. He would stand, silent and moody, glowering out of the +window, with the Colonel and me standing silent and thoughtful behind him. +I felt keenly for him, for he was indeed a gracious, likeable young +fellow, born to purple poverty and a shadowy princedom, and now, as he +thought, with the reality of wealth and power snatched out of his grasp. + +"If we go back," said he, turning his eyes on me, so that I saw how life +and light had quite gone out of them, "it's all over with my House." + +"I hope not, sir," said I. + +"I know it is," he cried bitterly, almost rudely. "All over with us--and +all over with me. If we go on, I shall at the worst go to my grave strong +and sweet. If we go back--" + +He paused and looked moodily out of the window. I think now, as I picture +him to myself standing there, that he knew himself well enough to know +what was coming. For another picture of him comes to my mind, as I saw him +in Rome many years later, and shuddered as I saw him. + +He turned and smiled at me, as one smiles who sips sour wine. + +"If we go back, friend Wheatman, I shall just rot into it." + +He spoke truth. I saw him rotting. + +And then, because he had more stuff in him than any other royal Stuart +that ever lived, he turned round, proud and princely, as the door opened +and in came Mr. Secretary with Macdonald of Glencoe, a short-horned bull +of a man. + +"And when was it," said he, rapping the words out like hammer-strokes on +an anvil, "that the Macdonalds got feart?" + +The Chief pulled up short, hit clean and hard between the eyes. + +"Ye'll never see a feart Macdonald," he said, "if ye live to be as auld +as Ben Nevis." + +"Ye're in the wrong, Glencoe," said Charles. "I saw one this morning, and +he was frightened of the English." + +"I'll gie ye the lie o' that," roared Glencoe, "if I hae to scrat my way +into London wi' ma nails." + +"I'll be glad of the lie from you on those terms," replied Charles +calmly, "and you shall ride into London at my right hand while I take my +words back." + +The Prince went to a table and filled a silver-gilt tass with brandy. He +sipped it and then, handing it to the Chief, said, "We'll share the same +glass to-day, Glencoe, as a pledge that we'll share the same victory +to-morrow." + +I did not like his brandy-drinking, but he did it well this time. As I +have said, he was at his best in dealing with a single man face to face. +It is only the rarest and finest spirits that can dominate a crowd. + +At a sign from the Prince the Colonel and I escorted the Chief to the +door, bestowing on him, as was due and politic, every courtesy. He looked +like a man who, after days of doubt, had newly found himself. + +"We've got him!" cried Charles gleefully as the door closed behind him. +"Now, gentlemen, I crave your attendance on a progress round the town. Mr. +Wheatman, bear our compliments to my Lord Elcho, and bid him call out some +score or so of our guards to escort us." + +We made a gallant show as we walked the streets of Derby in the early +grey of that December evening. Ahead of us went a dozen dismounted +life-guards to clear the causeways. Then followed Mr. Secretary with a +brace or two of town notables unwillingly yoked to the task of giving an +appearance of local support; then followed the Prince, between O'Sullivan +and the Colonel, with young Clanranald and me at their heels; and another +dozen life-guards in the rear. As we passed along the causeways, a score +or so of mounted guards, with Lord Elcho at their head, kept level with us +in the roadways. Volleys of slogans greeted us wherever we went, for the +town was full to bursting of the clansmen. The townsmen crowded to doors +and windows to watch us pass. + +The Prince doffed to them every other yard, but he and all of us were +mere curiosities to most of them. + +The progress was stayed at the "White Horse" in Sadler-gate, and the +Prince, with us, his immediate attendants, turned into the inn-yard, with +its long uneven lines of stables and coach-houses, all packed with +Camerons. At the news of the Prince's coming they trooped out, yelling +lustily. Some sort of order was formed, and the Prince walked up and down +among the swaying, uncouth masses, with a cheery smile on his face, and +with now and again a phrase of their own Gaelic on his lips. + +"The men are keen enough," he said to the Colonel apart. "Let us go +within and see what mood young Lochiel is in now." + +Lochiel, 'young' only by way of distinction from a Lochiel still older, +wanted no digging out, for, the news having been carried to him, he ran +out bareheaded and breathless. He was, in fact, a middle-aged gentleman, +broody and melancholy at times, as these men of the mountains are apt to +be when they've got brains. At the Council he had been silently set on +going back. + +"Your men are in fine fettle, Lochiel," said Charles, "and as keen as +their claymores to be at it." + +"They dinnae see the hoodie-craws gathering for the feast," said Lochiel +sombrely. + +"They see the battle won and the spoils of victory, after the usual way +with the Camerons," replied the Prince. + +"They havenae the gift of far-seeing," said the Chief, gloomily proud of +his own prophetic powers. + +Charles started impatiently, and there would have been a wrangle but for +the Colonel. + +"Sir," said he, addressing the Prince, "you will forgive an old +campaigner for being a stickler for the rules and procedures of military +operations. An inn-yard, with soldiery around and townsfolk gaping through +doors and windows, is no place for a council of war. The gentleman is +pleased to dream, of birds, as I gather. Let him back to the fireside and +dream of them in peace." + +Without another word the Prince turned on his heel and strode out of the +yard. I attended him at first, but missed the Colonel, and turned back to +him, for Lochiel was all a Highlander, seer one minute and savage the +next. Indeed, I found him, all his moodiness gone, as mad as a hatter. + +"I'll hae the heart's blood o' ye for this, prince or no prince," he +bawled at the Colonel, who, precisely as I expected, was seizing the +welcome opportunity of having a pinch of snuff. + +"Good lad!" said he, holding out the box, as indifferent to the crowding +Camerons as if they were sheep. "Make it pigeons next time, Mr. Lochiel. +Damme, Oliver, this rappee gets unendurable." + +His coolness took Lochiel off the boil, and he and I passed out without +another word into Sadler-gate and hurried after the Prince. We found the +progress somewhat ragged, and, as we were only a few yards from the corner +of Rotten Row, which forms the side of the square opposite Exeter House, +it was, I suppose, hardly worth while to trim it into shape again. In +those few yards, however, an incident much more to my liking occurred, for +just as we turned round the leading file of the rear of guards, we found +that the Prince had again halted, in the light of a shop-window, and this +time it was to talk to Margaret, who was standing there with Master Freake. + +It was a large shop with two well-stocked bow-windows. The doorway +between them, and half the inwards of the shop, were filled with the shop +master, his apprentices, and customers, crowding and craning to get a +sight of the Prince. Over the door was a shield-shaped sign, bearing the +Derby ram for cognizance, and the legend, "Martin Moyle, Grocer and +Italian Warehouseman." I noted it then, because the word 'Italian' carried +me back to Margaret's tirra-lirring, and I note it down now because, +having looked at it, my eyes ranged over the heads of the gapers in the +doorway to where Maclachlan, on the fringe of the group, was dodging about +to find a place where he could see Margaret without being seen by the +Prince. + +Master Freake was talking with the Prince as composedly as if they had +been friends of old standing. We had missed the beginning of their talk, +but it was plain that Charles had expected a recruit and was disappointed. + +"And why do you stand aside from us both?" he asked. + +"Sir," said the sedate merchant, "I am not interested in making kings." + +"What then?" + +"Kingdoms, sir." + +"Kingdoms!" cried the Prince. + +"Kingdoms!" reiterated Master Freake, with pride and emphasis. "But for +me, and men like me, this country would be a waste not worth fighting for." + +The Prince looked with astonishment at the calm, solid man who made this +strange announcement. After a minute's reflection, he said, "Mr. Freake, I +would talk with you in private, if you will." + +"With pleasure, sir," replied Master Freake. + +"And, naturally, Mistress Waynflete will not be cruel," continued the +Prince, offering his arm. + +Margaret took it, and the procession moved on again. Master Freake linked +his arm in mine, and we walked on together. + +"You've had adventures, I hear, since we parted, Oliver." + +"I fell into the claws of poetic justice," I answered, "and, having +failed as a real highwayman, nearly hanged as an imaginary one." + +He laughed. "Well, keep out of the sergeant's claws. He's only five miles +off with a brace of his dragoons, but little Dot is watching him. The time +to deal with him is not yet. Wait till his lordship of Brocton joins him. +What do you think of the Prince?" + +"I would not have believed a prince could be so likeable, sir." + +"I am, and shall remain, a mere observer," he said, "a mere tracker-down +of ten per cent on good security, but I don't mind admitting that, prince +for prince, I prefer this young gentleman to the fat, snuffy, waddling, +little drill-sergeant he's trying to displace." + +"You know the King, sir!" + +"Well, and I know his weak spot, too, which is more important for our +purposes. If His Gracious Majesty went to bed to-night with as many +guineas in his pocket as that"--he jingled his loose coin vigorously--"he'd +sleep in his breeches." + +On the way to Exeter House the Prince recovered his high spirits, and +even kept us waiting in the hall while he continued some lightsome +argument Margaret had led him into. At last he broke it off, laughing. + +"Mr. Freake will think me an idle princeling for this, madam," he said. +"For your offence in thus hindering our matters of state we commit you to +ward, and straightly charge our loyal subject, Master Wheatman, to hold +you safe in keeping till after supper, when we will undertake to show you +that our Highland reel can be as graceful as your Italian fandango." + +So, in great good humour, he went off with the Colonel and Master Freake. + +"Your aide-de-camp's commission runs so far, I trust," said Margaret +demurely, "as to permit me to choose my own cell." + +"I think that might be allowed, madam," I replied, with answerable +gravity, "but of course I must sit outside the door and keep strict watch +over you." + +"You would, I suppose, feel surer of me if you sat inside the door?" + +"Naturally, madam." + +"Then come along! I must know all that's knowable about that ghost. 'I +never said any such thing,' quoth he! You're the cleverest man with your +tongue I ever met, Oliver. And with what a pretty heat he said it! Just +as, beyond a doubt, he did it with that pretty way he has." + +If words were tones, and smiles, and eye-flashes, and lip-curlings, I +could tell you not only what Margaret said but how she said it, and how, +in saying it, she made mad sweet music ring within me. + +We were out in the square again now, threading our way among people I +hardly saw for being so wrapt up in her. + +"Was she a pretty ghost?" + +"Very," said I decidedly. + +"How old was she?" + +"Eighteen, or thereabouts." + +"Eighteen! Oh, dear! I never dreamed it was as bad as that. I think +kiss-giving and kissable ghosts over thirteen ought not to be allowed. +Eighteen! It's a clear incitement to suicide!" + +I was laughing at her whimsical sally when one particular item in the +crowd demanded attention, for it obtrusively barred our way. It was +Maclachlan, once again hot and red with haste, waving a small package he +had in his hand. + +"Ye left me, Mistress Margaret," he said. "I've been searching high and +low for ye." + +"And I'm glad you've found me, for I see you've got me the olives. You +are indeed kind, Mr. Maclachlan." + +"Ye left me!" he repeated passionately. + +"That's true," she said lightly. "I forgot all about you till I saw a +hand with an obvious bottle of olives dangling from it." + +Now this was not Margaret, or at least it was another strange side of +her. With me she had been almost absurdly grateful for such little +services as I had rendered. I had got her eggs, as he had got her olives, +but I and my eggs had not been received like this. I looked from one to +the other curiously. She was cool and smiling, as befitted some small +social occasion. He was just as clearly throbbing with passion. He, the +Maclachlan, had been neglected, and neglected for me! I wondered why +Margaret did not tell him that the Prince had commanded her company. That +should have satisfied even him; but no, she left him in his error, and +merely took the olives out of his hand, saying, "I hope they'll be fresh, +though it's hardly to be expected in a little town in the middle of +England." + +Maclachlan had paid not the slightest attention to me and, while ready +enough to deal with him, I paid none to him, and began to think him +somewhat of an ass to be standing in the market-place of Derby airing his +passions. Fortunately, perhaps, Lord George Murray, striding by towards +Exeter House, caught sight of us and stopped abruptly. + +"Ha' ye made a' right at the bridge yonder, Maclachlan?" + +The young Chief's face supplied the answer. + +"Ye havenae!" stormed Murray. "By gad, sir," lugging out his watch, "if +you don't, in two hours from now, report all arrangements made, I'll hae +ye shot by a squad of the Manchester ragabushes. Aff wi' ye, ye jawthering +young fule!" + +Maclachlan went off without so much as a bow to Margaret. + +"Have you taken out your commission, sir?" said Murray to me, snapping +the words out as though he would have them shear my head off. + +"I have, my lord," I answered, forestalling the words with a correct +military salute. + +"Then what the blazes are you doing here?" + +"My lord," I answered firmly, "by the direct commission of His Royal +Highness, given to me personally, I am escorting this lady to jail." + +"Then I'll forgive ye!" he retorted, and his strong face lost all its +anger and found the wraith of a smile. "Dinnae be too hard on the lassie! +She's ane of the right sort." + +He returned my salute, bowed courteously to Margaret, and strode on + +"Good lad!" said Margaret, happily mimicking her father. "You shall have +some of the olives in a minute or two." + +"Olives seem to me precisely the right thing for us," said I. + +"And why, sir?" + +It was very curious to me to see how, in her speech to me, she whipped +about from the familiar "Oliver" to the stately "Sir." There was always a +reason for it, and I would have given much to know it. + +"Your olives come from Italy, and I have been thinking of your Italian +count." + +"So have I," she said very soberly, and never said another word till we +were safe and quiet in her day-room at the "Bald-Faced Stag." + +For over two hours I had Margaret to myself, and we were as happy and +companionable as we had been in Dick Doley's cottage. And at this I +marvelled. Our Kate was the only woman I had to judge by, and when our +Kate got into her very best Sunday gown she got into her tantrums along +with it, and poor Jack, what with awe of her finery and anxiety lest he +should anger the minx, commonly had a thorny time of it. With Margaret it +was just the opposite. When we got in, she excused herself and went off to +her own room, coming back, after a weary time, in such a glory of silks +and satins that I blinked my eyes before her dazzlements. What made it +worse was that there was a comb--as she called it, though I should in my +ignorance have thought it some rich and rare work in filigree belonging to +an empress--which, owing to the smallness of her mirror and the poor +light, she could not get to sit perfectly in its golden cushion, and I was +bidden to put it where and as it ought to be. I was a long time over the +task, in part because I was really clumsy, but mainly because I was in no +hurry. I got it right at last, and even ventured, very craftily and +lightly, to kiss it as it lay there. + +"It's quite right now," said I. + +"At last! I'm afraid it's been a trouble to you. Now, Oliver, open the +bottle of olives, and, while we eat them, tell me all about the ghost." + +Many a time in the hard days that came to me later, I refreshed my soul +by thinking those happy hours over again. They are part of me, but no part +of my story, and I make no record of them here. We had long talks, with +long silences between them, as can only happen with very real friends who +are company for one another without a clatter of words. + +At last this golden time came to an end, for in walked the Colonel and +Master Freake to supper. + +"I am thankful," said the Colonel to Margaret. "Murray told me you'd been +taken to jail." + +"You heard the news with great content, I suppose," said Margaret. + +"I did, because--" He stopped to frown into the snuff-box. + +"Because of what? Pray observe, gentlemen, what an affectionate father I +have!" + +"Because he also told me the name of your jailer!" + +"You don't deserve to have a daughter," declared Margaret, with such a +pretence of vehemence that her cheeks, between and beneath her coils of +yellow hair, blazed like two poppies in a wheat-shook. + +"I've made up for it by deserving something even better, and that's a +good supper. Pull the bell, Oliver!" + + * * * * * + +Arrived in the great chamber at Exeter House, we found Charles making his +last stand. Feeling ran riot; there was little regard for the regentship +of the Prince; true to itself to the end, the Stuart cause was dying in a +babel of broken counsels. + +The ladies of the party were collected, uncertain and disquieted, on the +hearth, where Margaret joined them, while the Colonel and I made our way +and stood behind the Prince. + +"His Grace of Perth desires to go on," said Charles. "So does Glencoe. So +do my faithful Irish friends. Your men, as you well know, expect to go on. +To get them to go back, you must start in the dead of night and lie to +them, telling them they are going on. Only you, their chiefs and fathers, +want to go back." + +"To hell with the Irish!" cried one from the background. "They're no' +worth the dad of a bonnet." + +"It's no matter to them," said another man by him. "They've neither haid +nor maid to lose." + +This fetched O'Sullivan to his feet in a tearing rage. "We've got lives +to lose," he cried, "and, by G--, we're not afraid to lose 'em!" + +At this the yelling must have been heard in the square, and the +gesticulating and grimacing would have been amusing on a less serious +occasion. At last, in a lull in the gale, the Colonel, addressing the +Prince, curtly demanded, "Who is the chief military commander of your +army, sir?" + +"My Lord George Murray," answered Charles bitterly. + +"Then it's time your commander commanded. This spells disaster whether we +go on or go back." + +"It's the plain truth you're telling, Colonel Waynflete," said Lord +Ogilvie loudly. In an undertone I heard him say, "Oot wi' it, Geordie!" + +When Murray arose, everybody knew the finishing touch was to be put to +the business, and a strained silence fell on the assembly. + +"I have advised ye to go back, sir," he said, "because, in the complete +absence of the support we were led to expect, it is foolish to go on. Your +Royal Highness wants to go on, and there's not a man here who does not +honour you for your courage. Now, sir, I will go on, and so shall every +man here I can command or influence, if those who hae tell't ye behind my +back that they think we ought to go on will put their opinion down in +writing and subscribe their names to it, here and now. One condition more, +sir. That writing, so subscribed, shall be sent by a sure hand direct from +this town to His Majesty in Rome, so that he may judge each man justly." + +"I agree," said Charles eagerly. "Pen and paper, Mr. Secretary!" + +It at once became clear, however, that Murray had taken the measure of +the men he had to deal with. + +"Why make flesh of one and fish of another?" asked O'Sullivan, and old +Sir Thomas nodded approval of the question. + +"The decision should be the decision of the Council," said the Duke of +Perth. + +"Will ye write your names to it, or will ye not?" demanded Murray. + +No one spoke. + +"That settles it, sir," said Murray. "But I desire you, Mr. Secretary, to +make a note of my offer and its reception." + +"Have your way!" said Charles, in sullen anger. "But it settles another +thing for ye. I call no more councils." + +He turned and strode out of the room. The Stuart cause was in its coffin, +and it only remained for us to give it a fair burial. + +When the door closed behind the Prince, the Colonel whispered in my ear, +"Slip off and tell Freake!" + +I did the journey at a run, and found Master Freake sitting, quietly +meditative, but booted and spurred for his journey. + +"Well, Oliver?" + +"We go back to-night." + +In five minutes I was standing in the Ironmarket at his grey mare's head. + +"I'm not deserting you, lad," said he, gripping my hand heartily. + +"Of course not, sir. Good-bye, and good luck!" + +"My love to Margaret. Look out for the sergeant. Good-bye!" + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A BROTHER OF THE LAMP + + +Two days afterwards, towards six o'clock on a bitter evening, I rode +wearily into Leek. I was having a hard apprenticeship in soldiering under +a master who had no idea of sparing either me or himself. For the Colonel +had accepted the post of second, under Murray, in command of our +rear-guard, and had made it a condition of acceptance that I should be +with him. Some thirty Highlanders, mostly Macdonalds, picked dare-devils, +had been mounted and turned into dragooners, and I, thanks to the Colonel, +had been made Captain over them. + +"The lad's no experience, but he's got sense," he said to my lord George +Murray. + +"I ken him weel aneugh," said his lordship. "He threatened to knock my +head off. D'ye ca' that sense, Kit Waynflete?" + +"Since your head's still on your shoulders," said the Colonel, fumbling +for his snuff, "I do. He knocked Maclachlan's Donald into a log of timber, +and, damme, I hardly saw his hand move." + +"That's only a trick, sir," I protested. + +"Weel, Captain Wheatman," said Murray, "keep your ugly English tricks to +y'rsel. Mind ye, colonel or no colonel, I'll break ye first chance ye gie +me." + +Maclachan was, I must say, very obliging and complimentary over my +promotion. He gave me Donald to be my sergeant and personal servant, +finding him, how I knew not, a horse strong enough to carry him easily. + +"It is ferra guid," said Donald to his chief. "Er shall pe lookit to as +if her were ma mither's own son." + +To me, Captain Wheatman, clinking about in the corridor waiting for the +Colonel, comes William, suave and confidential as ever. + +"Well, William," said I. "Any more coincidences?" + +"Yes, sir," said he, and began his hand-washing. + +"You'll die a rich man, William." + +"No, sir. This particular coincidence made me the poorer by, I should +say," suspending his washing to calculate, "some five shillings." + +"The devil it did! How was that?" + +"Your honour's clothes that you left behind, sir, when you were +transmuted, as my lord would say, were stolen." + +"And you value them at five shillings! I ought to crack your head for you." + +"Yes, sir. Cast-offs sells very cheap, sir. But the coincidence, sir! +I've not really come to that yet." + +"Go on, William! You interest me deeply." + +"I found them, sir, at the bottom of the garden, torn to rags, sir!" + +"And sold 'em for fivepence! Eh, thrifty William?" + +"Sixpence, to be exact, sir!" + +The Colonel rushed me off, but I found time to give the rascal a crown, +which put him sixpence in pocket. A servant ought to have his vails, and, +besides, William's concern amused me a good crown's worth. + +This was late on in the night after the final decision to go back, and +since then I had been scouting miles behind the main body of our +rear-guard, so as to make sure that the Duke's horse were not on our +track. I had slept by driblets as opportunity offered. Now, my purpose +accomplished, I was looking forward to supper and bed, having left a +patrol of fresh men some six miles back to watch the southern road. + +There was one thing in my mind, however, that must be attended to first. +I must see Mistress Hardy of Hardiwick. My heart ached for her, for I knew +how sorely she would feel the retreat of the Prince. Moreover, the +clansmen were not likely to discriminate between her and other townsfolk, +and I would save her from disturbance. So, jumping off the sorrel, and +giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I +was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly +behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret. + +"You've no need to trouble, Oliver," she said. "I've kept a room for you +at the 'Angel.'" + +"Thank you," I replied. "You are very kind, madam." + +"Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes +open to look at me. Come along, sir!" She was merrily pulling at my arm as +she spoke. "I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you +know, sir!" + +"No, madam! Certainly not." + +"No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very +last resource." + +"Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I +shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must +see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch." + +"We'll go together!" said Margaret, putting her arm in mine. + +The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed. +I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman +appeared, candle in hand. + +"I knew you'd come, sir," she said simply. "And this is your lady! Come +in!" + +Candle in hand, she paced ahead of us to the door of the room, and then +stood aside, erect and solemn, to let us pass in. I looked at her closely. +The worried, anxious look on her comely face had gone, and she was +subdued, calm, and happy. + +"Thank God!" she whispered. "She's at peace!" + +I stepped ahead of Margaret into the fine old room, with its pleasant +memorials of ancientry. There they were, just as I had seen them--scutcheon, +portrait, glove, and pounce-box. There was no change in them; +they were the abiding elements on which a strong soul had kept itself +strong. But change there was. At the _prie-Dieu_, kneeling in a +rapture before the Virgin Mother, was a solemn, black-robed priest. A +narrow white bed was in the room. Two large candles burned steadily at its +head, two at the foot; and on the bed, the linen turned down to reveal the +thin, frail hands crossed below the Prince's brooch, lay the still, white +form of our lady of the square. God had taken her to Himself. Death had +caught her with a welcoming smile on her face, and, in pity and ruth, had +left it there. + +The Hardys of Hardiwick had given their last gift to the cause. + +Tears were streaming down Margaret's cheeks. With shaking hands she +removed her hat and, kneeling down at the bedside, clasped her hands in +prayer. + +"She talked no end about you, sir," whispered the serving-woman, "and +about the beautiful lady with you. That standing in the cold square to see +the Prince was the death of her. She would have her bed put down here, +sir. She wanted to die here, with the old shield in her eyes, for she was +proud of her blood, as well she might be." + +"Yes," I whispered back. "She was the last of a great race." + +"Aye, sir. She was that. She was a bit moithered in her mind, dear heart, +just afore she went. The last words she said were a prayer for his soul,--her +sweetheart you know, sir, that she lost sixty years ago,--just as +I'd heard her pray thousands of times. But, poor thing, she got his name +wrong. She called him 'John.'" + +Choking, I threw myself on my knees beside Margaret, and prayed and +fought, and fought and prayed again. Here, before me, I saw Death in the +only shape in which it can give no sorrow--sinless age that had gently +glided into immortality; and, with equal vision, I saw the black +passage ... and the still twisted thing lying there in a patch of +gloom ... my friend, gone in the pride of his youth ... his life spilt out +in anger and agony ... and by me. Then the innocent hand of her for whom, +though all unwittingly, I had done this thing, crept on to my shoulder, +and I turned to look at her. + +"Thank God we came, Oliver!" she whispered. + +Before we could rise, the black-robed priest lifted his tall, gaunt frame +slowly from the _prie-Dieu_. Standing on the opposite side of the bed +he raised his hands in blessing. + +"Our sister is with God," he said, his deep voice vibrant with emotion. +"My children, you are, as I think, those who were much in her prayers at +the last. I know not who you are, but, in her memory and in God's name, I +give you in this life His Peace, and in the life to come the assurance of +His Everlasting Blessedness. Amen." + +He ceased. Gravely, and in a solemn silence, he knelt again at the +_prie-Dieu_. We rose. First Margaret, and then I, kissed the Prince's +brooch and the folded hands, and then stole out of the room. We were too +awe-stricken to speak, or even to look at each other, but, as we went, she +placed her hand in mine. + +Weary days, full of hard riding and scouting, passed before I saw +Margaret again. I was always in the rear, generally far in the rear, while +she and the other ladies were, very properly, kept well ahead. She now +rode in the calash with Lady Ogilvie,--the two being inseparable,--and +Maclachlan was with them. My work was hard and anxious but it kept me from +thinking overmuch. I put all my soul into it so that it should. + +"The lad does very well, as I told you he would," said the Colonel to +Murray one night when I rode in to make my report. + +"I see no signs of my chance of breaking him," said his lordship grimly, +but he would have me sup with him that night, and was very unbending and +helpful. + +There is nothing I need say about this stage of the retreat. It was well +managed, and is, I am told, a very creditable piece of soldiership. It +does not belong to my story but to history, to which I leave it. + +Things did happen, however, that do concern me. The first was laughable +though vexatious. This was the manner of it. + +While the Prince was making the stage from Macclesfield to Manchester, +and Murray and the Colonel were in force a few miles in his rear, I had to +keep the country behind them well observed. I had one patrol within sight +of Macclesfield, and others stretching out along an edge of upland country +running westward to the next main road. I spent the night in a little +wayside ale-house, and was having my breakfast next morning when I was +disturbed by a succession of yells from without. + +I ran into the yard and there was Donald, the rough head of one of my +dragoons in each hand, banging them together, varying his bangs with kicks +at any accessible spot, and shrieking at them in Gaelic, while they +shrieked back and wriggled to escape. He stopped when he saw me, but still +held them by the pow. + +"What's it all about, Donald?" I asked. + +"The loons! It's Glencoe 'erself sail hang 'em," he said breathlessly. + +"What for? Out with it, Donald!" + +"Yes, you gomeril"--shoving one of the men sprawling into the stable--"oot +wi' it! Bring your tarn rogues wark 'ere!" + +The man came sheepishly out with my saddle, cut and ripped and gutted +till it wasn't worth a sou. + +Strict and stern inquiry threw little light on the matter. I had my own +suspicions, namely, of two licorous raffatags in the so-called Manchester +regiment, whom I had handsomely kicked out of a roadside cottage where +they were for behaving after their kind. They had been seen prowling about +the curtilage of the ale-house the night before. + +I went back to my breakfast. For a few hours I had to make shift with the +saddle of one of my dragoons, but, after a short halt later on, Donald +brought out the sorrel with a fine, and nearly new, saddle. + +"Tat's petter," said he. "'Er sail ride foine now." + +"This cost you a twa-three bawbees, I'll be bound," I remarked. + +Donald grinned intelligently and I made no closer inquiry. The good +fellow made me uncomfortable, for he would have slit the throat of the +greatest squire along the road to get me a shoe-lace. + +Early next morning his lordship sent me ahead into Manchester with a +dispatch for the Prince, who had spent the night there. It was a welcome +task, for it would, I hoped, give me at least a sight of Margaret. Instead +of this sweet meat, however, I got sour sauce. + +When I got there our army was beginning its onward march, and there were +thousands of people about to watch the clansmen fall in, and little +disguise they made of their feelings. As it happened, when I rode into the +square, Ogilvie's large regiment was lining up, and he left it in charge +of his major to come and talk to me. + +"I'm wishing you'd come half an hour ago," he began. "Ishbel would ha' +given much to see you, and so wad some one else, I'm thinking." + +"Have the ladies started already?" I asked, with painful carelessness. + +"Losh, man, Maclachlan has 'em up and away the morn in fine style. He's +getting a very attentive chiel is Maclachlan, and I wonder ma Ishbel disna +like him better than she does. There's too damn few of us to be spitting +and sparring among ourselves." + +"This is so, my lord," I said. + +"I'm just plain Davie to ma friends," he said simply. "I'm no exactly a +man after God's ain heart, like my Bible namesake, but I hae no speeritual +pride where a guid man's concernit, and it ill becomes men who are in the +same boat, and that only a cockle-shell thing, to be swapping off court +terms wi' ane anither. They're aff, an' we mun step it out. An' I'm no +really a lord." + +"I want the Prince's lodging, Davie," I explained, as we walked on the +causeway level with the head of his column. + +"We march past it, an' I'll drop ye there. The young man takes it verra +ill. The heart's clean melted oot of him. An' sma' wonder! See the sour, +mum bodies in this town! When we came down there were bonfires an' +bell-ringings, an' cheerings, an' mostly every windie wi' a lit candle, +maybe twa-three, in it. The leddies, an' they're nae bad-lookin' lassies +either, had bunches o' plaid ribbons in their bosoms an'--this I hae from +Maclachlan--plaid gairters to their stockings." + +In such talk we spent the way to the Prince's lodging, where I charged +him to carry my greetings to the ladies. He wrung my hand in parting and, +his major having halted the regiment, stepped proudly to the head of his +men. I stood on the edge of the causeway, drew my sword, and stood at the +salute, according to the courtesy of the wars. He returned the honour in +like soldierly fashion, rapped out a command, and so passed on into the +hungry North. It was the last I was to see of Davie, commonly called the +Lord Ogilvie. + +To my astonishment the Prince was not yet risen, and it was some time +before he came to me in his day-room, where I was awaiting him. I rose and +bowed as he entered, and gave him the dispatch. + +"Curse your foul English weather, Captain Wheatman. It's getting into my +bones." + +This was, I fancy, only his way of excusing to me the nip of brandy he +was pouring out. + +"That's better!" he said, putting down the empty glass. "I have something +to thank France for after all." He laughed at his own poor joke, but there +was no ring of merriment in his laughter, and added, "Now for what my +runaway general has to say." + +He read the letter impatiently and sneeringly. "I suppose Mr. Secretary +must write something back," was his comment. "It doesn't matter much what, +since we're running away as fast as our legs can carry us. Any fool, or +rogue, or Murray can run away." + +He paced up and down the room with long angry strides, muttering words I +did not understand. Suddenly he stopped, and turned on me with the +smiling, princely face of the greater Charles I knew and liked. + +"Curse me for an ingrate! I am heartily obliged to you, Captain Wheatman, +for your pains. My lord speaks of you in high terms of praise. And I must +not keep you. Murray must have his answer. Come with me, and Mr. Secretary +shall take it down while I have my breakfast." + +I followed him out and along a passage with doors on either side, outside +one of which stood a servant or sentry, who had eyed me furtively on my +coming inward. When he saw the Prince, he opened the door and thrust in +his head, to announce our visit. He was clumsy, too, and, keeping his head +round the edge of the door too long, bumped into the Prince, who rapped +out an oath and flung him aside. As I followed Charles in, I caught a +glimpse of the back of a man in a heavy mulberry wrap-rascal, guarded with +tarnished silver braid at the cuffs and pockets, who was hastily leaving +the Secretary's room by an inner door. + +"Ha!" said Charles sneeringly. "More plots and politics! If I could be +schemed into a crown, you'd be the man to do it." + +"I must be acquent wi' what gaes on in the toun, your Royal Highness, an' +ma man yonder's a rare ferret, but I didna think him worthy to be in the +presence, sae I just bundled him oot." + +"All your plotting and contrivings will not do you as much good as a +glass of brandy. The climate's getting at you." + +Indeed Mr. Secretary was all of a shake, and looked in a scared manner +from the Prince to me and back again. + +"It's naething but a little queasiness, such as we elder, bookish men are +apt to get by ower-much application. Your Royal Highness is gracious to +note my little ailments," said he smoothly. He had recovered already. + +"Try brandy!" said Charles. "It settles the stomach fine. Well, come and +take down a reply to this while I have some breakfast!" + +The queasiness seemed to return, for Mr. Secretary was slow, captious, +and argumentative, though the matter of the dispatch was only as to where +the army should halt for a day's rest. At last Preston was decided on, and +the dispatch written accordingly. I bowed myself out, jumped on the +sorrel, and started for the Stockport road. + +Our rear was closer up than usual this morning. Manchester, being a +considerable town, was not to be cleared of our main of troops until the +first column of the rear was in the southern skirts of the town. Outside +the Prince's lodging, his escort of life-guards was now drawn up. As I +rode along the edge of the market-square the Camerons were massing, and +the streets adjacent were seething with clansmen. + +I put the sorrel to it and was soon out in the low open country. After +cantering a mile or so, I caught sight of two horsemen, well ahead of me, +riding south at a round gallop. One of them wore a big mulberry +wrap-rascal. It is no uncommon garment to see along a turnpike on a biting +December day, but, ten minutes later, after they dropped to a walk to ease +their horses up a slope, I saw the silver guarding round the pockets. + +If this were the man I had seen hurrying out of Mr. Secretary's room, a +look at him would be worth while, so I spurred after them. The clatter I +made had the desired effect. At the top of the slope, wrap-rascal turned +round. It was Weir, the Government spy. He squealed to his companion, who +looked back in turn. My heart leaped fiercely at the sight of his seamed +leathery face and dab-of-putty nose. It was the sergeant of dragoons. + +Down the slope they raced, with me after them full tilt, proud as a +peacock to be driving two men headlong before me, and one of them an old +campaigner. It was my undoing. The road was lined with straggling hedges, +and a long pistol shot ahead, a cross-track cut it. The sergeant was +giving orders to the spy as they rode, and at the crossway the sergeant, +shouting, "Shoot low!" turned sharp to the left while the spy made for the +right. + +It was a pretty trick, for it put me between two fires. I was on the +spy's pistol hand as he turned, and he let fly at me, not out of +calculated bravery, as his face plainly showed, but in a flurry of +despair. The motive behind a shot, however, does not matter. It's the +bullet that counts, and his got me just above the left elbow. I was up in +my stirrups, aiming at the sergeant, who was pulling his horse round to be +at me. I saw splinters fly from a bough to his right. + +I had not looked to the spy. Now a shot rang out down the lane on his +side. It was followed by a piercing shriek, and this by another shot. In +between the shots, the serjeant wheeled round, and raced off down the lane +for dear life, spurring and flogging like a maniac. It was useless to +follow. My rein hand had lost its grip, my arm felt aflame, and blood was +already dripping fast from my helpless fingers. + +Looking down the lane, I saw Weir lying in the road, and a strange +horseman climbing down from his saddle. I rode up to him. + +"How d'ye do?" he said affably. "Sorry I could not get the other chap for +you, but I meant having Turnditch. The dirty rascal has sent his last lad +to the gallows. Faugh! I could spit on his carrion." + +A glance to the road showed that he was right. The spy's blank, yellow +face was turned upwards; his eyes, with the horror of hell still in them, +stared wide-open at the sky. Just above his right eyebrow there was a hole +I could have put my finger in. + +"Damn my silly eyes!" cried the stranger. "You're winged, sir, and badly. +It must be seen to at once." + +He helped me down, took off my coat and waistcoat, and turned up my +shirt-sleeve, doing all this deftly and almost womanly. + +"Hurrah! Missed the bone and gone clear through! Put you right in no +time! Plug down your finger there, sir, while I cut a stick. That's +excellent. You won't mind if I keep you while I reload my barkers? The +safe side, you know!" + +With his handkerchief and my own, and a length of hazel for a tourniquet, +he bound up the wound, and with much skill, for he at once reduced the +flow of blood to a mere trickle. While he was busy over me, I took stock +of him. + +He was a man of about my own age and height, but slimmer and wirier. His +features were rather irregular, but an intelligent, humorous look atoned +for this defect, and his bright grey eyes were the quickest I have ever +seen. Though an utter stranger, there was a puzzling familiarity about +him, and I tried hard to recall which of my acquaintance featured him. His +horse, now cropping at the roadside, was a splendid brown blood mare, the +best horse, barring Sultan, I had seen for many a day. The last thing I +noted was that the man was singularly well dressed. + +"That's patched you up till you can get to a regular doctor. There's a +first-class man at Stockport, opposite the west door of the church, +Bamford by name. You can't miss his place, and he'll pocket his fee like a +wise man ind ask no questions." + +"You've done very well, sir," said I. "The blood has almost ceased to +flow. I'm greatly beholden to you." + +"Say no more!" he cried earnestly. "It's a boon you've conferred on me, +if you only knew it. _Nemo repente turpissimus_, as we say." + +"_Video proboque_, as we also say," I countered, smiling. + +"Oddones! A brother of the lamp!" he cried, laughing shortly, and +suddenly sobering. "I must be on. Sorry to leave you, sir, but I think +you're all right. Take care, however. I was touched myself t'other day, +and the damned hole in my ribs still bleeds if I exert myself too much." + +"You should surely be in bed, if there's a hole in your ribs." + +"In bed!" he sniffed. "I took to bed, egad, and nearly got pinched. Now +I've no need for exertion. In this gap between the Highlanders, I'm as +snug as a flea in a blanket." + +After helping me into my clothes and on to my horse, he strolled up to +the dead man. + +"Well, Turnditch," he said, "you know everything now, or nothing." Then, +dropping lightly on his knee, he turned gaily to me, and said, "Always +plunder the Egyptian, dead or alive." + +He rifled the spy's pockets with the easy indifference of an expert, +singing as he turned them out: + + "The priest calls the lawyer a cheat; + The lawyer beknaves the divine; + And the statesman because he's so great, + Thinks his trade is as honest as mine." + +He stopped his singing and, tossing a well-stuffed leather bag up and +down in his hand, said, "There's really no objection to virtue when the +jade is not her own reward. Chunk! chunk! There's alchemy for you! Half an +ounce of lead into half a pound of gold!" + +He stowed the bag in his pocket, jumped on his mare, and together we +walked our horses to the turnpike, where we halted side by side, our +horses' heads to their respective destinations. + +"Sir," said I, holding out my hand, "I am greatly in your debt. My name +is Oliver Wheatman, of the Hanyards, Staffordshire. May I have the +pleasure of learning yours?" + +He took my hand, looked at me intently, with his grey eyes very +thoughtful and steady, and then said quietly, "Samuel Nixon, Bachelor of +Arts, sometime Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford." + +"Commonly called 'Swift Nicks,'" I added, smiling. + +"Right first time," he cried gleefully, and shot off like an arrow +towards Manchester. + +So Nance Lousely had not got her pinnerfull of guineas after all. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +DONALD + + +I got my wound in the early forenoon of December the 10th. About eight +o'clock on the night of the 17th I sat down in a deserted shepherd's hut +to the meal Donald had got ready for me. The week had been in one respect +a blank, for I had not seen Margaret. In every other respect it had been +laborious, strenuous, and exciting, and we had just seen the end of the +toughest job so far. We, meaning my dragoons and myself, were on the top +of Shap. Some ammunition wagons had broken down on the upward climb, +bunging up the road at its stiffest bit and delaying us for hours. His +lordship and the Colonel, with the infantry of the rear-guard, were in +Shap village a mile or two ahead. The Prince was still farther on, +probably in Penrith. + +The delay was dangerous. Our army had rested one full day at Preston and +another at Lancaster. Even at Preston the Colonel and I, with my dragoons, +had barely ridden out of the town when a strong body of enemy horse rode +in from the east, sent by Wade to reinforce the Duke. Our margin of safety +was being cut down daily. We should have to fight before long, and I was +posted here, on the top of Shap, to see that no surprise was sprung upon +us. + +The shieling, as Donald called it, was about a hundred yards past the +highest point of the road, where a picket was on the watch. Across the +road was a bit of a dip, and here my dragoons were making themselves +comfortable round a roaring fire, fuel for which was provided by the +smashed-up carcass of a derelict wagon. The country was as bare as a +bird's tail, but by a slice of great good luck one of them had shot a +stray sheep on the way up, and the air was thick with the smell of singed +mutton. + +Here I must say of my dragoons that they were men I loved to command. +After twelve days' work of a sort to knock up an elephant they were as +fresh as daisies. Donald they all feared, and as Donald, for my behoof, +made no bones about telling them how the laddie's nief, sma' as it lookit, +'ad dinged 'im, Donald, oot o' his seven senses, they feared me. I think +they even liked me. Anyhow, I never had an ugly look or a glum word from +one of them. Some people express surprise at the splendid Highland +regiments now, thanks to Mr. Pitt's politic genius, serving in our army. +It is no surprise to me who have commanded a body of clansmen for a +fortnight in the back-end of a retreat. + +Donald was a very jewel of a man. He was servant, sergeant, nurse, and +companion, and unbeatable in all capacities. My wound had given me more +trouble than I expected, even though Mr. Bamford had told me that one of +the larger arteries was injured. Once or twice since, as occasion served, +a doctor had dressed it, but it was Donald's incessant care that did most +for it. I still wore my left arm in a sling. + +He had made me a fire of wood and turfs; given me roast mutton, a slice +of cheese sprinkled with oatmeal, and good bread to eat, and a pint of +milk laced with whisky to drink. Refinements which he would have scouted +for himself in any place, he had taken thought to provide for me in these +wilds--a pewter plate and a silver beaker, both stolen. The only +furnishing in the hut was a squat log, almost the size of a butcher's +block, which served as a table. For seat, Donald rigged up half the +tail-board of the wagon across two heaps of turfs. He completed his work +by producing a tallow candle stuck in a dab of clay by way of candlestick. + +Donald had left me to my food and gone over to the camp to get his own. I +made a nourishable meal and then sat down before the fire to smoke and +think. + +I had not seen Margaret since Leek, and had not been alone with her +since, her hand in mine, we had crept out of the gracious presence of the +dead. And I had got into a mood in which I felt that it was well I did not +see her. Some day I should have to do without her altogether, and this was +a chance of learning how to do it. + +Though I had not seen her, I had heard of her. While our army stayed the +day in Lancaster I had been watching the road within sight of the spires +of Preston, wondering why the Duke's horse, after their accession of +strength, did not come after us. The Marquess of Tiverton has since told +me that the Duke had been kept a day at Preston by rumours of a French +landing on the south coast. Being far behind, I had ridden through +Lancaster without drawing rein, but in the main street a stranger--one of +us, however, as his white cockade showed--had stepped up to my saddle and +handed me a letter. It was plainly of a woman's writing, and I burned to +think that it was Margaret's hand that had penned the direction to "Oliver +Wheatman, Esquire, Captain of Dragoons in the army of His Royal Highness +the Prince Regent." I tore it open, and found it was from the Lady +Ogilvie. She would understand and forgive if she could ever know how +disappointed I was. + +It had been written that morning before leaving the town, and bore traces +of hasty composition. It ran as follows:-- + +"SIR,--This is to let ye know, dear Oliver, that I'm sure M. has got a +bee in his bonnet. I'm thinking that some one we know has tell't him she +will hae no trokings with him in the way he wants. I dinna ken for +certain, mark ye, but they were taegither last night, and this morning +he's not hanging round to pit us in ye carriage, as he ordinarily does, +and she is pale and quiet, and says she wishes her father was at hand, and +I like it not, dear Oliver. I call you dear Oliver because y'are such a +guid laddie, just as I'm a guid girl. Davie tell't me how you stood up and +saluted him, and I was glad I'd kissed ye ance upon a time, though it was +only to plague ye. Remember what I tell't ye about these Highland boddys. +M. is like all the rest of 'em, and moreover the Prince made ye his +aide-de-camp, and it was to have been him, tho' he didna mind at the first +because it left him free to be courting his leddy, but noo he'll hae it +rankling in his heart like poison. And keep your eye on that chiel, +Donald. He's foster-brother to M., and wad stick his dirk in the Prince +himself if M. tell't him to. They're not bad boddys, but that's how they +are. She says naething about ye, and that's a guid sign, I'm thinking. I +wish ye knew the French instead of that silly Lattin, for then I cud write +ye a propper letter wi' nice words in it, but she says yell hae to learn +Italian first to suit her, but that's only her daffery. Excuse this +ill-writ note, for the paper is bad and I'm no sure o' my English when +it's guid.--Your obedient servant and loving guid friend, + +"ISHBEL OGILVIE" + +I pulled the dab of mud close to my elbow and read it again. In part it +was plain enough. That Maclachlan was madly in love with Margaret had +become almost a matter of common gossip. My Lord George Murray had hinted +at it more than once, as he had at my displacing the young Chief in the +Prince's favour. Maclachlan was son and heir to a chief of considerable +power and reputation. That he should fall in love with Margaret was +natural, and had she fallen in love with him I should not have been +surprised. Even after the event, I still say that he was a fine, +upstanding man, delightful to look on, and, so far as I knew, worthy of +any woman, even of such a one as Margaret. But the heart is master not +servant, and cannot be commanded. She loved him not and there was an end +of it. + +Next, Lady Ogilvie hinted at danger to me from him. Well, if he wanted a +fight, a fight he should have. There's no Englishman living thinks more of +Scotsmen than I do, but I have never thought enough of the best Scot +breathing to run away from him. As for Donald, unless I was an idiot and +he a better actor than Mr. Garrick, he would far sooner have driven his +dirk into himself than into me. That matter could rest. There would be no +fighting that night, and I never put on my breeches till it's time to get +up. + +Where her ladyship was wrong was in supposing, as clearly she did, that +Margaret's love affairs interested me otherwise than as being Margaret's. +I loved her, loved her dearly, all the more dearly because hopelessly. I +had no qualifications which would enable me to speak my love. At my best +nothing but a poor yeoman, I was now not even that, I was a declared rebel +in a rebellion that had failed. And if I had had every qualification that +rank and wealth could give me, it would still have been the same. Between +her and me was the dead body of my friend and the widowed heart of my +sister. + +I was meditatively refilling my pipe when I heard Donald's voice without, +raised in earnest explanation. + +"An' if I didna think it wass auld Nick comin' for me afore ma reetfu' +time, may I never drink anither drap whisky as lang as I live." + +Some one laughed at the explanation, and Donald, still explaining, pushed +open the door and made way for Margaret, who, before I could rise, was +glowering over me, in the delightful way she had, girlish pretence just +dashed with womanly earnest. + +"I shall never forgive you, nor father, nor Donald, nor anybody else. And +you're not to move, sir!" + +"I'm sorry, madam," said I. + +"You always are. It's your favourite mood. You live on sorrow," she said, +pelting me with the terse, sharp sentences. Then, for I twitched at her +telling me I lived on sorrow, she melted at once, and said, "Oh, Oliver, +I'm so sorry. Why did you not send for me and let me nurse it better? +Surely that was my right as well as my duty." + +There was no contenting her till she had seen and dressed my wound. She +had brought lint and linen with her, some kind of balsam which nearly made +me glad she had not had the daily dressing of my arm, and even a basin and +a huge bottle of clear spring water, which were brought in from the calash +by Bimbo, Lady Ogilvie's little black coachman. The hut looked like a +surgery, and Donald and Bimbo got mixed up in the most laughable way in +dodging about to wait on her. + +"Com' oot of it!" said Donald desperately, unwinding the little black out +of his plaid for the second time. + +"You one big elephant in pekkaloats!" he retorted, grinning bare his big +white teeth. "You tread on Bimbo, Bimbo go squash." + +"How does it feel now?" asked Margaret, when her task was over. + +"I shall be able to clout Donald with it in the morning," I answered. + +"Tat's petter," said he, grinning with delight. "I'm thinkin' I'd suner +be dinged wi' 'er again than see 'er hinging there daein' naethin'." + +He took Bimbo off to the camp-fire and left us alone. We wrangled about +the seating accommodation of the hut, for the cart-tail was but short, and +I wanted her to have it to herself. She flouted the idea, and in the end +we shared it, and I minded its shortness no longer. She would fill my pipe +for me, and held a burning splinter to the bowl while I got it going. Over +her doctoring she had been very pale and quiet. Now she got her colour +back in the light and warmth of the fire, but she quietened down again as +soon as I was smoking in comfort. + +She told me briefly that she had stayed in Shap to see her father. Lady +Ogilvie had insisted on her keeping the calash, so that she could come on +in comfort in the morning. From her father she had learned of my wound, +and had come on at once to see for herself how I was. She would start back +for Shap shortly, where she was to stay the night with her father. + +She told me this and then leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands, +and went quiet again. + +I was glad of her silence, glad that she was hiding her face from me, for +I needed to pull myself together. That something had happened was clear, +and, whatever it was, it had struck home. In some way of deep concernment +there was a new Margaret by my side, but in another way it was the old +familiar Margaret as well, for she was wearing mother's long grey domino. +She had unclasped it so that it now hung loosely on her, and flung back +the hood so that the firelight made lambent flickerings in her hair. + +"I have not seen you for twelve days," she said at last. + +"No, madam." + +"Have you been neglecting me, sir?" Just a touch of vigour was in her +voice, but she still gazed at the fire. + +"You are a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," I said quietly, and +the retort brought her head round with a jerk. + +"And how does that excuse your neglect?" + +"By giving you the chance of ascertaining from your father whether my +military duties have left me any opportunity of neglecting you," I +answered steadily. As usual with me, since I could not woo, I would be +master where I could. It was a source of mean delight to me. + +"More logic," she said briefly, and turned to the fire again. + +Apparently she tested the logic in her mind and came to the conclusion +that it was sound. She got up, threw some wood on the fire, thrusting me +back playfully when I tried to forestall her, and then said merrily, "What +do you think dad said to-night?" + +"It would take hours to guess, I expect, so tell me at once, since I see +it hipped you." + +"It did," she said, with playful emphasis. "I fear I've not trained him +up as fathers should be trained, for he coolly told me that if I had not +had the misfortune to be a girl, I might perhaps have turned out as good a +lad as you." + +"Misfortune!" I echoed almost angrily. + +"The exact word," she replied. + +"Misfortune! To be the most beautiful woman in England, with the world at +your feet--he calls that a misfortune?" + +I spoke energetically as the occasion demanded, being, moreover, glad of +an outlet. Before I had finished, however, she was back in her old +position, with her face hidden from me by her hands. She puzzled me more +than ever, for, after a long silence, she burst out, "Not my world, +Oliver!" + +The phrase shot up like a spout of lava from some deep centre of molten +thought. I pitied and loved her, but I was helpless. To make a diversion I +looked at my watch and luckily it was the time when the picket at the top +should be changed, so I went to the door and opened it. A splendid blare +of piping came in from the camp-fire as I did so, and Margaret tripped to +the door to listen. + +"Who is it?" she asked. + +"Donald," said I. "He's one of the great masters of the pipes. I believe +in the tale of Amphion and the walls of Thebes now, for this afternoon I +saw Donald pipe some broken-down wagons out of the road." + +I went across to see to the change of picket, and when I got back into +the hut I saw that the tension was over. I relit my pipe, sat down again +at her side, and started a rapid series of questions as to what she had +seen and heard during the retreat. Try how I would, nay, try as we would, +we did not get back to our old footing. We were afraid of silences, and +skipped from topic to topic at breakneck speed. We two who had sauntered +together in the sunlight, now stumbled along in a mist. + +At last she said she must be going, and I went out and shouted to Donald +to get Bimbo and the calash ready, and four men as an escort. When I got +back to her, she arose, somewhat wearily, and I put the domino on fully +and fitted the hood round her head. + +"You see I've gone back to the domino, Oliver," she said. + +"It's the very thing for a cold night and a dirty road," I replied +cheerfully, stepping in front of her, a couple of paces off, to take my +last look at her in the light. + +"I have never met a man who understands so much about women as you do," +she said. + +"Thank you, madam," I cried boisterously, and bowed so as to avoid her +eyes. But when I was upright again, they caught mine once more, and +something in them made me tremble. + +"Or so little," she whispered, and she was pitifully white and miserable. + +If it had not been for what I saw between us--there, on the floor of +crazed and trampled mud, I should have flung my arms around her. But I +could not step over _that_. + +"Ta carrish iss ready," cried Donald from the door-sill. + +I packed her snugly in the calash and started two dragoons ahead. Bimbo +clucked to his horse and was off. I walked a hundred yards by the side of +the carriage till it was time to whistle for the other dragoons to start. +Then I made Bimbo pull up. + +The young moon was battling with great stacks of clouds, but just at that +moment won a brief victory, and gave me a clear view of Margaret. She put +out her hand, which she had not yet gloved, and I took it in mine, bowed +my head over it, and kissed it. + +"Good night, Oliver," she whispered. + +"Good night, Margaret," I replied, and whistled shrilly to hide my +emotions. Something sent her away with her eyes ashine and her face +glorious with a smile. + +The dragoons clattered by, and I stood for a few minutes staring +downhill. _And so little. Not my world. And so little. Not my world_. +The words rang in my ears like a peal of bells. Then, by one of the odd +tricks the mind plays us, I remembered that I had left the Hanyards for +the work's sake, and that my love for Margaret could only be justified to +myself--the only one who could ever know it--by my work. Over the black +top there, down in the blacker valley, was the enemy, her enemy, nibbling +up the space between us as a rabbit nibbles up a lettuce leaf. I closed my +mind to the maddening chime, and started forthright to visit my picket. + +The road was flush with the bare windswept summit. The crumpled ground +was matted with coarse grass, almost too poor for sheep-feed. The +camp-fire still blazed; near it a bagpipe crooned; now and again a horse +shook in its harness. The moon whipped out for a moment, and then it was +pitch dark again. + +As I stepped it out there was a rush at me from the grass, behind and to +my left. Down I dropped full length, and a man shot over me and sprawled +in the road, but he was quick and lithe as a cat, and was up before me, +for my slung arm disadvantaged me. I could just see his sword poised for a +cut as he fairly pounced on me. I dived outward as he jumped, and he +missed me, but before I could get behind him he was round and at me again +like a fury. I was weaponless and crippled, but if I could once get past +his sword, it would be all over with him. The pace was so hot, and my mind +was so bent on the work, that I did not call for aid. At last I tricked +him, for in jumping aside I flung my hat hard in his face, and in a flash +had my right hand at his throat. He jabbed at me with his left, and I +twisted round to his right side, pressing his sword-arm against his body, +and digging my fingers into his windpipe. I heard his sword drop, and felt +him feeling for a pistol. He was as hard as a nail, and I began to dream +that he would get me before I had choked him. + +Donald ended the matter. He, doglike in his fidelity, came striding down +the road after me. The moon outpaced the clouds again. He saw us at our +death-grips, and came on with a rush and a yell. He drove his dirk into +the nape of the man's neck and twisted the blade in its ghastly socket. A +sharp, sickening click--and the man dropped out of my fingers like a +stone. The moon went in again, and hid the evil thing from us. + +"Pe she hurtit?" asked Donald anxiously. + +"Not a scratch!" I replied. + +"Tat's goot! Carry 'er up to the fire," he added to three or four men who +had run up on hearing his yell. "She's English and, maybe, she sall hae +fine pickins on 'er." + +He stooped down, careless of a dead man as of a dead buck, and stropped +his dirk clean and dry on the man's breeches. Then the men, equally +indifferent, picked up the body and started off. + +"D'ye ken wha the chiel is?" asked Donald, as we walked after them. + +"A certain sergeant of dragoons, or one of his men," I answered. + +"He winna fash ye ony more," said he. "Tat's a fine way of mine, when I +can get behint a mon. I've killt mony a stot like it, shoost t' keep in +the way of it." And he stabbed the air, twisted his wrist, and clicked +delightedly. + +The men dumped the body near the fire. One of them stooped down and was +for putting his hand in the man's pocket, but drew it back as if he had +thrust it by mischance into the flames. + +Then I knew. + +I have heard a mare squeal in a burning stable, but I have never heard +agony in sound as I heard it there, on the top of Shap, when Donald flung +himself across the dead body of his chief and foster-brother. + +There is one tender memory of this distressing scene. Neither by look, +word, nor tone did Donald attach blame or responsibility to me. He +recovered himself in a few minutes, and then stood up, and gave a brief +command in Gaelic. Four awe-struck men spread a plaid on the ground, +placed the dead body on it, and carried it into the hut. Donald, gravely +silent, took the pipes from the man who had been playing, and followed +them. I bared my head and went after him miserably. + +Maclachlan's body lay on the floor of the hut. The eyes were wide open, +but on his fine composed face there was no trace of the agony and passion +in which he had gone before his God. It was as if, in that last terrible +second, some vision of beauty had swept his soul clean. I knelt down and +reverently closed the staring eyes. + +"Donald," said I, when I arose, "I would to God that you had killed me +instead." + +"It's weird," said he solemnly, "and weird mun hae way." + +I looked at him closely. That he was struck to the heart was plain to +see, but, the first uprush of grief over, he had become sober, steadfast, +almost business-like, as if he had something great in hand to do, and +would be doing it. + +He took the candle, now only the length of my ring-finger, and stuck it +on the narrow window-ledge. Again he spoke to the men in Gaelic, and they +moved out of the hut. Turning to me, he said, "Com in when ta licht gaes +oot!" + +He had the right to be alone with his dead. I wrung his hand and left +him. When I looked back from the doorway, he was filling his bag with +wind, but stopped to say, "Weird mun hae way." And as he said it he smiled. + +I crossed the road to the edge of the dip. More wood had been piled on +the fire, which now blazed cheerfully. Most of the men lay asleep in their +plaids, but a few stood guard over the horses, and the men who had carried +the body into the hut were squatting on the grass by the roadside. I took +my stand near them, and looked and listened. + +The terrible similarity of Donald's case to mine appalled me. Each of us, +in saving another, had struck down in the darkness a man near and dear to +him. Two good men and true had gone when the lust of life is sweetest and +the will to live strongest. I, who three weeks ago had never seen human +life taken, had taken it, and seen it taken, as if men were of no more +account than cattle. Between the house-place of the Hanyards and the top +of Shap, Death had become my familiar. + +For Maclachlan I had nothing but pity. He had thought that I stood +between him and Margaret. Clearly he had learned of her coming back to me, +and the thought had maddened him. He had disguised himself as an +Englishman and come after me, and this was the end of it. + +These were my thoughts as I watched the flickering flame dropping nearer +and nearer to the window-ledge, and listened to the pipes. Donald was +inspired. He and the pipes were one. In his hands they became a living +thing. What he felt, they felt. They wept as he wept, they gloried as he +gloried, they triumphed as he triumphed. + +He began with a murmur of grief that grew into a wail, became a +passionate tempest, and died into a prolonged sob. Then he changed his +note as memory wandered backward. The music became tenderly reminiscent, +subduedly cheerful. They were again boys together at their play, youthful +hunters swinging over the mountains after the red deer; young men with the +maidens; warriors on their first foray. The threads of life ran in and out +through the pattern of sounds he was weaving, and the older days of +fighting and victories followed as I listened. There was hurrying, +marching, charging; the groan of defeat; the mad slogan of final victory. + +"He's fechtin' the Macleans noo," cried out one of the men, who had some +English, and the others chattered vigorously for a minute in their own +Gaelic. + +The candle was now guttering on the window-ledge. These glories over, +Donald came hard up against the end of them all--the Chief dead at his +feet, slain by his own hand. For a time he faltered, playing only in +little, melancholy snatches. Then he got surer, and the music began to +come in blasts. He was seeing his way, learning what it all meant to him +and the Maclachlans. Weird mun hae way. Destiny must work itself out. We +children of a day are helpless before it. + +The flame fell to a golden bead as the music grew in strength and +purpose. There was a burst of light, a peal of triumph, and the music and +the flame went out together. + +Across the road I raced, threw open the door, and rushed in. Everything +was dark and still. + +"Donald!" I called passionately. + +There was no reply. I crept on tip-toe to the fire and kicked the embers +into a flame. + +Donald was lying dead across the dead body of his Chief, his dirk buried +to the hilt in his own heart. + + * * * * * + +At daybreak we buried them side by side in one grave on the top of Shap, +their feet pointing northward to their own mountains. When the last clod +had been replaced, and a great boulder reverently carried up to mark the +spot, I turned, covered my head, and prepared to go, but the men stood on. +I looked back. They were loath to go. Something that should be done, had +been left undone. + +I divined what they had in mind, turned back, bared my head as they +uncovered, and repeated the Lord's Prayer aloud. + +I am thankful to this day to those men whom fools and bigots call +savages. They taught me to pray again. + +"Man Captain," said the one who had English, as we walked away in a body, +"ye wad mak' a gran' meenister." + +I could not withhold a smile, but before I could reply there was a +scattered rattle of shots from the dip. Looking around, I saw a body of +enemy horse on the lower hill across the valley to my left. + +We were overtaken. We should have to fight. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT + + +On the tenth day of my captivity, hope glimmered for the first time. When +a man has been penned up in a dull room for ten days, with +half-a-hundred-weight of rusty iron shackling his wrists and ankles, with +poor food, and little of it at that, to eat, he can extract comfort out of +a trifle. + +In my case the trifle was a smile, her first smile in ten days. So far +she had been as sulky as she was shapeless, bringing me my poor meals +either without saying a word or, at best, snapping me up and saying that I +got far better treatment than a rebel deserved. + +She never told me her name, and I never learned it from any other source, +so 'she' she must remain for me and my tale. She was perhaps thirty, +perhaps five feet high, the shape of a black pudding, with stony, rather +than ugly, features, and cruel, cat-like eyes. I hated her handsomely till +she smiled at me. + +She was, I suppose, my jailer's daughter, or servant, or something of the +sort. I never knew, and my ignorance does not matter. She brought me my +food, spake or spake not, according to the degree of vileness in her +prevailing humour, and went off, leaving me to my thoughts and my painful +shamblings round my prison-chamber. + +My ignorance was limitless. I was a prisoner, and my prison was a room in +a sizable farm-house with thick stone walls. Where the house was I had no +idea other than that it could not be far from the place where I was taken, +which, again, could not be far from the town of Penrith. There was one +window in my cell, the sill of which was as high from the ground as my +chin when standing upright. But I never stood upright, being jammed into a +cross made of good, solid iron, foul with rust, and having bracelets at +the tips for my ankles and wrists. It kept me a foot short of my full +stretch. I could get my eye to the edge of the window and no farther, and +then I saw much sky and a little desolate moorland running up into a +gauntly-wooded hill country. + +I spent my waking hours thinking of Margaret and the others dreaming of +her. Now was my chance to learn to do without her altogether. It would not +be for long. I was in the Duke's clutches, and he would not let me go till +my head rolled off my shoulders. Had I been free and with her, we should +have been farther apart than before--by the width of Donald's grave. But +here, parted for ever, with the block or the gallows just ahead of me, +there was no bar to my lonely love. Time and time again she was so near to +me, so vividly present to my imagination, that I stretched out my arms to +grasp her. The shackles clanked, and I cursed myself for a fool, but I +never cured myself of the habit. + +Because this is the dreariest time of my life, I have plumped right into +the middle of it to get it over. And, indeed, there is little worth the +telling between the top of Shap and her smile. I was in jail because I was +no soldier. That, apparently, should go without saying, and if I had come +to grief over some piece of important soldier-craft, no one would have +been surprised and I should not have been to blame. It galls me, however, +to have to confess that I was very properly caught, jailed, and ironed for +not knowing what a dragoon was. A man ought to know that after being +captain of a troop of the best for a fortnight, but I didn't. Being all +for logic, the least useful thing in life, I had arrived at the conclusion +that a soldier on horseback is a horse-soldier. So he is, except when he's +a dragoon, as I found to my cost. If the bold Turnus or Mr. +Pink-of-Propriety Aeneas had hit upon the dragoon idea, I should have +known all about it, because it would have been in Virgil. Even the Master +has his deficiencies. + +My Lord George Murray elected to fight at Clifton, a defendable place +between Shap and Penrith. Just south of the bridge the road ran off the +moor into the outskirts of the village, with a stone wall on one side and +a high edge on the other. The enclosures on either side were packed with +clansmen, and our wings stretched beyond on to the moor, here dissected +into poor fields by straggling hedges. + +The Colonel, the happiest man in England that day, had posted me across +the road, right out on the moor, ready to gallop back at once with news of +the enemy's approach. It was now quite dark, except when the moon rode +free of the dense blotches of clouds that filled the sky. In one such +glimpse of light, I caught sight of several bodies of horse on the moor to +the east of the road. The regiment nearest to me wheeled to the left, and +trotted obliquely across the road. Its direction made its purpose clear. +It was feeling its way across our front to our flank on the west of the +village. I rode back at once to report. + +"Good lad!" said the Colonel, offering me his snuff-box. "It's just what +we want 'em to do. Go where there's a bellyful for you! Fine soldiering +that! The fool duke ought to pound us out into the open with his guns. +Hope you'll enjoy your first fight, Oliver! It's a glorious game. Pity of +it is the counters are so costly. Good luck, my dear lad!" + +I went back to my men whom I had left in the covered way between the wall +and the hedge. It being clear that the exact whereabouts of the regiment I +had particularly observed was of great consequence, I rode out again with +a couple of men, at the request of one of the chiefs, to see if I could +make out what was happening. There was no trace of it. It should by now +have been visible on my right, the moon being out again, but there was not +a single trace of it. I could see the line of one hedge and beyond that +another. The other regiments had not advanced and this one had disappeared. + +Perplexed, I halted my men, pulled the sorrel's head round and cantered +slowly towards the nearer hedge. Then I learned that dragoons are +horse-soldiers who fight on foot, behind hedges for choice. Half a dozen +carbines rang out, the sorrel rolled over, and though I escaped the +bullets and jumped clear of my horse, I was pounced on by a body of men +and pulled ignobly through the hedge. I did everything doable, but they +swarmed over me like ants, bore me down by weight of numbers, and sat on +me. + +"It's him right enough," I heard one of them say. "Fetch the sergeant! +There's a bit of fat in this, lads!" + +A minute later, I was hauled on to my feet. A seared face, with a +dab-of-putty nose on it, leered delightedly into mine. + +"Got you, by G--!" he said. + +I had been captured by Brocton's dragoons. Now we should come to points. + +Without another word to me, and after a savage injunction to the men to +see I did not escape on peril of their lives, he went off and fetched his +lordship. They came running back together as if the greatest event +imaginable had happened. + +"Ha! Master Wheatman," cried my lord very happily, "this is indeed a +sight for sore eyes." + +"To be sure," said I, "your lordship's were pretty bad the last time I +saw them." + +He made no retort, being indeed too excited to notice pin-pricks, but +ordered the sergeant to take me to the rear under a strong guard. "Make +sure of him!" he cried, and added in a lower tone, as I moved off under +the combined pull and push of my captors, "Make sure of it." He then went +off to his own place in the line. + +The sergeant did not come with us, and I had been tugged nearly to the +second hedge before he overtook us. To my astonishment he was carrying my +saddle on his head, where, in the dim light, it looked like a gigantic +bonnet. He swore at the men for loitering, and on we went to the second +hedge. We struck it at a point where there was neither gate nor gap, but +the dragoons bashed it down with their carbines and trampled it down with +their boots, and so made a way. + +Two of the men were through, and I was being hauled through, when there +was a spattering of shots from behind. Over the noise a stentorian voice +called out "Claymores!" It was the Highland warcry, and, with +reverberating yells, the clansmen poured out of the nearer enclosure to +attack the dragoons lining the hedge. + +The sergeant drew his sword, and, as we raced on again, struck viciously +with the flat of it at his men to make them run faster. A queer figure he +cut in the moonlight as he raced along, swearing and slashing, with the +skirts of the saddle flapping against his lean ribs. At last we got out on +a poor road lined with trees and turned south along it. There was urgent +need for him to haste now, for Brocton's dragoons had been cut out of +their cover and were being pushed back to the hedge we had just left. The +sergeant halted a moment to take stock of the situation, and then we +hurried on again. Every time he struck a man for lazy running, the man in +his turn paid me with punch or kick. After a mile or so, the avenue made +an abrupt turn to the east and brought us out on the main road in the rear +of the Duke's army. + +The moon showed us a little cottage, standing off from the road in a poor +plot of ground. The sergeant led the way up to it, turned the cottager and +his family out of it into a shed, and set two men without as sentries. He +then made the others strip me to the skin and examined every shred of +clothing, ripping out the linings and even cutting my boots to pieces. +Finding nothing, he flung me the rags to put on again, and then cut the +saddle to pieces and searched that. I knew now why William had so nearly +lost his vail and Donald had been obliged to steal me another saddle. The +sergeant wanted, the letter and papers I had taken from him at the "Ring +of Bells." He was so keen that he omitted to pouch any of my belongings, +and I retained my money, Donald's watch, and the priceless strip of +bloodstained linen. My tuck and pistols were naturally taken from me on my +capture. + +"Any luck?" I asked quizzingly, when he at last gave over the search. + +Too furious or too cautious to reply, he brutally kicked a dragoon whom +he caught smiling. + +After a miserable drag of some two hours, a fresh dragoon came with a +message, whereon the sergeant conducted me to the presence of the Duke, +who was quartered in a large house in the village. The Lord Brocton, the +Lord Mark Kerr, and other officers were with him, and also several ladies +who would have been more at home in Vauxhall. For a minute or two I was +unheeded, and the sergeant could hardly keep himself sufficiently stiff +and awkward. His Grace was in the sourest of humours for, as the talk +showed, he had been beaten. The claymores had taken the conceit out of him +finely. He finished the subject with a string of oaths and then made an +unprintable inquiry of Brocton concerning me. The ladies tittered +profusely, and the most powdery one vowed that His Grace was a great wag. +In further proof of this he snatched a feather near a yard long out of her +pompom, and fanned himself with it while he examined me. + +This ducal waggishness gave me time to observe that the sergeant's +uneasiness was icy coldness in comparison with his lordship's. He was +uncertain of speech; his face was the colour of pea-soup; he looked +anxiously, almost affrightedly, at me. He grew plainly more comfortable as +the Duke failed to get any information out of me beyond the fact that the +weather was cold. Finally, when the sergeant was ordered to keep me at his +peril till such time as I could be lodged in Carlisle jail, Brocton +greedily tossed off a bumper of wine and laughed aloud at some vulgar +sally from a lady in a green paduasoy. On leaving I bowed to the Duke. He +was a vigorous, able man with the manners and morals of a bull. + +Brocton followed the sergeant out. There was a consultation between them +of which I heard nothing, but the result was that the sergeant picked up a +man as guide who was waiting at the front door, obviously for the purpose, +and took me through and beyond the village to a house on the roadside. The +place was of fair size, built of rough slabs of stone, and evidently a +farm-house. The owner was a lumpish, ungainly fellow, astonishingly +bow-legged. He had a little yapping dog, which jumped backwards and +forwards between his knees like a trick-dog through a hoop. + +Preparations had been made for my coming, "by his lordship," as the +farmer blabbed out. I was taken upstairs to a back room, ironed, in the +way I have described, by the parish constable, who had been prayed in aid +for the job, and locked in in the dark. I heard a sentry posted without +the door and another beneath the window. It was some consolation, and I +needed all I could get, to know I was so prized. There was a rough bed in +the room. I tumbled on it, wondered for a few minutes what Margaret would +be thinking of it all, and then went to sleep. + +Next morning I made her acquaintance to this extent that she brought me a +jug of thin ale, a lump of horse-bread and a slab of cheese. Her looks +froze my affability, but she does not become important till she smiled, +and I need say no more about her at present. + +I saw no other person till nightfall of the third day, when the door +opened and the little dog hopped through his accustomed gap into the room, +and was followed by his master carrying a lighted tallow candle in a rusty +iron candlestick. This imported something unusual, as I was not allowed a +light, and it turned out to be a visit from my Lord Brocton. He ordered +the sentry to follow the farmer downstairs, and examined the door +carefully to see if it was closed thoroughly. I sat on the edge of the bed +and hummed a brisk air with a fine pretence of indifference. + +He sat down on the one chair there was, placed his hat on the table, and +said, "I am sorry to see you in this place and condition, Mr. Wheatman." + +"Thank you," said I. + +"Of course you know there's only one end of it." + +"Yes," I replied, and hummed a stave of "Lillibullero." + +He leaned forward and said impressively, "The gibbet, Mr. Wheatman!" + + +"Draughty places!" said I, smiling, as I thought of Nance Lousely. "I can +feel the wind whistling through my bones." + +"You are pleased to be facetious, sir. It does credit, I must say, to +your nerves." + +"You are pleased to be sympathetic, my lord," I riposted, "whereby you do +no credit to my common sense." + +He took short breaths and then reflected a minute or two, during which I +clinked a soft tattoo with my iron wristlets, and eyed him joyously. He +was there--a free lordling, I was here--a chained rebel, but I had him set. + +"I have a proposal to make to you, Mr. Wheatman," he said at length. + +"I am indeed honoured, but be careful, my lord! It's not in the least +likely, I fear, to be a proposal which you would like the sentry beneath +the window to overhear." + +"You are plain and blunt," he said, leaning forward and speaking in a low +tone, "and I will be the same. Return me all the papers you took from my +sergeant at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I will see that you escape and get +clear of the country." + +"The different personal ends for which you are anxious to turn traitor +seem innumerable, my lord!" + +He met the taunt as if it had been a flip with a straw, and only said, +"Is it a bargain?" + +"It is not," I replied emphatically. + +If his life rather than his lands had depended on the recovery of the +letter he could not have been more eager. For a long time he pleaded and +wrestled with me; arguing, bullying, imploring, threatening, turn and turn +about, but to no result. I would not go back on my casual word to Master +Freake. The letter was important to him, and he would save Margaret and +the Colonel, and me too, when the inevitable hour of need should come at +last. Money was power, and lands were more than money. Acres meant votes, +and with votes at your command you had ministers at your beck. I was sure +of Master Freake. Why bother about my lord Brocton? + +At last he played his last card. "You shall have the Upper Hanyards back +again, Master Wheatman," he quavered. + +The rascal earl, his father, had juggled more than a thousand acres of +the Hanyards away from my father by some musty process of law and a venal +bench. The reference angered me, and I cried loudly, "You shall not have +it back at any price!" + +He looked at the window, and paled as he thought of the sentinel ears +without. Then he went off, vomiting curses. + +That day week, she brought me a shepherd's pie for dinner, very well made +too, and a mug of ale not wholly unworthy of the name. She put them down, +looked at me in a measure womanly, and smiled. It was a root of promise +and fruit would follow. Any change would be welcome. I was ragged, dirty, +galled, cramped, and bearded with a red stubble. She called me 'Carrots' +in derision. + +I was right. At evening she brought me up a dish of tea, and when I +lifted it off the table to take a drink of it, there was beneath it a +paper folded letter-fashion. + +I steadied myself, drank my tea with only moderate haste, and then +cautiously palmed my treasure and walked to the window. Standing with my +back to the door, so that the sentry, who was given to popping his head in +to have a look at me, could not catch me unawares, I opened the paper. It +was a letter. It was written by a woman. The woman was Margaret. + +"You will be taken to-morrow to Carlisle. On the way friends will rescue +you and bring you to me. Fear nothing, say nothing, and all will be well. +Till to-morrow, dear Oliver. Destroy this. MARG. W." + +It went hard against the grain to destroy this precious missive. I hid in +the corner, and kissed it ravenously a hundred times. How straight and +true the pen had ploughed its way across the paper! It was just such +writing as I had expected of her, the resolute escription of her sweet, +resolute self. Nor was the problem of destroying it easy to solve, since I +had no fire, and there was no sure hiding-place accessible to my manacled +hands. I mastered the difficulty heroically by eating the letter with my +bread and butter. + +It was even harder to pretend to be dull and sluggish with such a whirl +of happy thoughts in my mind. I was her "dear Oliver," dear enough to make +her risk her own life in saving mine. That she would plan wisely and +execute swiftly, there was no shadow of doubt. This time tomorrow we +should be together again. + +The night dragged through at last, and the first glimmer of dawn found me +alert and hopeful. She brought my usual breakfast at the usual time, and +smiled again, but put her finger on her lips to warn me to be silent and +careful. + +She went downstairs, and left to myself again, I grew furious to think +that Margaret would see me so, a regular wild man of the woods--_quantum +mutatus ab illo Hectare_. But my ravings ceased at the sound of +preparations without. My room was at the back of the house, but I heard +the noise of wheels, and hoof-beats, and the harsh swearing of the +sergeant. By and by he came noisily upstairs, burst into my room, and +curtly ordered me downstairs. + +Blithely I followed him. Try how I would I could not hide my joy, and, +seeing that he noted it, I said in explanation, "Anything for a change, +sergeant!" + +"You'll wish yourself back here soon enough, blast ye!" he growled. +"We'll stretch your neck for you till your eyes drop out, you swine!" + +"You dear, good, Christian soul!" I simpered. + +For answer, he kicked me savagely, and then bundled me downstairs, out of +the house, and into the road. Here a two-horsed coach was in waiting, with +two dragoons and a corporal in front and two more behind. One of the rear +men was holding a horse, and to my annoyance the sergeant got into the +coach after me, bawled out a command, and off our party started. + +I stumbled into a corner and sat huddled up, straining my eyes ahead to +catch what was to come. Margaret's information was clearly correct. We +took the road north, passed through Penrith without a halt, and out again, +still on the turnpike, proof that Carlisle was to be our destination. The +city was obviously now in the Duke's power. + +Mile after mile we covered apace, and at every curve and cross-road I +peered ahead and around with my heart in my mouth. One point in my favour +was the desolate nature of the country, exactly fitted for such a +stratagem as was in hand. On the right the gloomy sky was blotted out by +jagged masses of gloomier hills. On the left the country varied between +flat and upland, but was hardly less uninviting. + +"Where d'ye think y're going?" asked the sergeant, joggling me with his +spurred heel to make me look at him. + +"No idea," said I. + +"Blast ye. I wish y'had," he growled viciously, and I turned away to smile. + +We passed through a village littered with the Duke's baggage wagons and +pretty full of soldiery. This chilled my spirit somewhat, for it looked as +if we were about to run into the rear of the Royal army. Outside the +village, however, we again had the road to ourselves, and a mile farther +on dropped to a walk to climb a long slant of road. + +Whenever the road curved my way I had seen the corporal and his two men +riding from fifty to a hundred yards ahead of us. Not very far up the +slope we came on a farmstead lying flush on the roadside. In the yard were +some thirty head of shaggy black cattle, of the northern kind seldom seen +in our parts and therefore attractive to a farmer's eye. A farm-hand +leaning over the gate had some noisy gossip with the dragoons as they +passed, and bawled his news to a group of men sitting at meat under a +hovel. It was a poor enough place to support so many men, for the +farm-wife, who came to her kitchen door to see what the clatter was about, +was of no better seeming than a yokel's wife with us. My eyes were on her +curiously when the man on the gate skipped off and flung it open right +across the muzzles of our horses. + +In the tick of a clock the whole scene changed. The men under the hovel +rushed out, fell on the cattle, thrashed them mercilessly with great +battoons, yelled at them like maniacs, and drove them in a shoving, +bellowing, maddened mass into the road, which here had a stone wall on the +side opposite the farm. When the torrent was fairly going, two of the +supposed yokels snatched up carbines, climbed on to the hovel, and opened +fire on the dragoons in our rear. + +The master hand of the Colonel was in this beyond a doubt. With a loud +curse, the sergeant, who was on the side away from the farm, opened the +door and was for leaping out. He bethought himself and half turned, one +hand on the door and one foot on the step, to look an evil inquiry at me. +That half-turn was his undoing. Part of the living, struggling torrent of +cattle was shoved round our way and came sweeping by. One beast brushed +the door open even as he glared at me and tumbled him outwards. As he +twisted in his fall another drove her sharp horns clean into him, and +shook and twirled him off again like a terrier playing with a rat. The +rearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off the +scene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging after +them. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked to +perfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied and +happy. + +My rescuers took no notice of me but ran down the road in a body and +stood round the sergeant. After some excited talk they carried him back, +called on me to aid, and rammed him into the coach, where he lay huddled +on the seat in front of me. Without so much as a word to me, the commander +pulled our driver off the box, ordered a man up in his place, climbed +after him, and said briefly, "Go like the devil!" + +The carriage turned up a rough lane which ran eastward out of the high +road opposite the farm, leaving most of my rescuers standing uncertain in +a group. The driver cut his horses savagely with his whip, and we went at +a hard gallop. The jolting tumbled me about in the coach, and I had hard +work, shackled as I was, to keep the sergeant on the seat. He was still +alive, though so hideously injured that death could only be a question of +minutes. Where we were going and why they were carrying him along with us, +were questions it was useless to bother about. Margaret would explain +everything when we met. I could make little of the men who had rescued me. +They were clearly not farm-hands, for they were well armed, the guns I had +seen looked to me to be military carbines, and they had carried through +their business briskly and intelligently. + +I heard the men on the box talking, but their speech was only about the +road and the speed. The country got rougher and wilder; the distant hills +were losing their clear-cut, rolling outlines, and becoming neighbours and +obstacles. The horses were thrashed unmercifully, but at times even the +well-plied whip could get no more than a crawl out of them. + +The sergeant's end was at hand. He rallied, as men commonly do before +they put foot in the black river, and looked at me unrecognizingly. He +closed his eyes again, and began to writhe and mutter strange words. +Suddenly he cried plainly, "Curse the swine! Another wedge, ye damned +chicken-heart!" He looked at me again, and this time made out who I was, +and cursed loathsomely in his disappointment. + +"D'ye know where y're going?" he ended, leering wickedly. + +"No," said I. + +"Blast ye! I wish ye did!" He gurgled this almost jocosely, as if it were +a pet bit of humour. + +"Do you know where you are going?" I asked solemnly. + +"To hell," he cried, and, after a spout of blood that spattered me as I +leaned over him, went. + +The carriage stopped and, before I could rise to see why, the door was +opened and some one without said politely, "This is indeed a pleasure, +Master Wheatman!" + +It was my lord Brocton. + + * * * * * + +It would be foolish to pretend that I was not bitten to the bone, and I +can only hope that I did not give outward expression to a tithe of the +chagrin and dismay that possessed me. Being commanded to do so, I got out +of the coach without a word and looked around. + +The rough road along which we had been travelling ran on through a slit +in the hills. Where we stood a bridle-path parted from it at a sharp angle +and made its way over the lower skirts of the hill country. It was a +desolate, dreary spot where, as I suspected, the king's writ ran not and +where, therefore, a man might be done to death with all conveniency. +Master Freake would be useless to me now, and my chiefest enemy had me at +his will. + +There was no delay. A long cloak was put over me, so disposed as to hide +my fetters, and I was lifted on a spare horse led by one of the +new-comers. The skill with which the affair had been planned was shown by +the fact that this horse, to accommodate my shackled legs, had been +saddled as for a lady. + +"You know exactly what to do?" asked his lordship of the men on the coach. + +"Yes, my lord," said one of them, "but what about--" He finished the +sentence by a jerk of his thumb towards the dead sergeant. + +"Leave him there! Egad, Master Wheatman, is not that a touch of the real +artist?" + +"The key of these things is in his breeches' pocket," said I, speaking +for the first time, and waggling my fetters as I did so. + +"Get it out, Tomlins!" + +The man who had asked the question climbed down and obeyed the order with +the callousness of a dog nosing a dead rabbit. Then our parties separated. +The coach continued along the main road, if so it may be called, and we +took to the track. I looked curiously after the coach, wondering where it +was bound, and with what object. + +"More art," said his lordship. "A coach is a seeable, trackable thing, +and it will throw everybody off the scent. I'm glad the ruffian's dead. He +was overmuch wise in my affairs." + +As we rode on into the interminable wastes, he rallied me gleefully, but +soon tired of my moroseness. + +"His arrival will make an affecting picture," he said mockingly to his +men. He was feverishly excited, and must boast to some one. "No pliant +damsel to rush into his longing arms! He is to be embraced though, my +masters, if need be." + +What this obscure threat might portend, I could not see, but it chimed in +with the delirious cruelty of the dead sergeant. Threats for the future +mattered not, the present being so unendurable. A man in Brocton's +position must be hard put to it to turn traitor in this strange fashion. +He had "rescued" me with his own men, and, lord or no lord, he would hang +for it were it once known to a lover of the gibbet like the Duke's Grace +of Cumberland. What on earth was the letter about? Master Freake had +definitely said lands, and therefore lands it must be, though nothing less +than the whole Ridgeley estates could be in question. The thousand and +more acres of the Upper Hanyards, sweet meadows stretching a mile along +the river and a snatch of the chase at its wildest and loveliest, the +prize that had fallen to the rascal earl in the great lawsuit, had been +promised me as readily as a pinch of snuff. I gloated over the revenge I +was winning for my race, a race rooted in those darling Hanyards a century +before the Ridgeleys were heard of, for the first earl, the grandfather of +the old rogue, started as an obscure pimp to Charles the Second, and was +enriched and ennobled for his assiduity. + +But no familiary pride could cheer me for long. The dead landscape around +chilled me. The chiefest misery was to remember the hope with which I had +started that morning. Margaret was the fancied end of my journey, and the +real end was this! I had to bite my lips till I felt the trickle of blood +in the stubble on my chin to keep back unmanly revilings. + +At last we came out on what was by comparison a made road, and now his +lordship grew plainly anxious and haggard. We rode madly along it, so +that, riding shackled and woman-fashion, I had hard work to keep my seat. +Brocton's head was incessantly on the turn to see if we were observed, but +his luck was absolute. We saw no one on the road, and, after a hard +stretch, we turned up a gully to our left and were once more buried among +the hills. + +After much turning and twisting we came in sight of a small house of grey +stone which, from its appearance and situation, I judged to be some +gentleman's shooting lodge. We cut across the valley, on one slope of +which it stood, and I caught a glimpse of cottage roofs beyond it. We +worked round to the rear of the house, and, in a favouring clump of trees, +his lordship called a halt. The horses were tethered, and I was lifted +down, and the rings round my ankles were unlocked. The men took one each, +and carried their carbines in their free hands. Brocton drew his rapier, +and said, "Forward! Make a sound, show the slightest sign of resistance, +and I run you through." + +There was no sense in disobeying, and I accommodated myself to his +design, which was clearly to get into the house unobserved from without. +In this he was successful, or at any rate I saw no one during our crawl +from one point of vantage to another up to the back entrance. Now his +lordship skipped gaily from behind me and opened the door. He stepped +softly in, and I was pushed after him by his dragoons. + +"'Friends will rescue you and bring you to me,'" he quoted, jeering me. +"There's no Margaret for you, Farmer Wheatman. I shall have her yet!" +Then, beast as he was, while the men kept me back, nearly tearing my arms +out of their sockets, he stuck the point of his rapier over my heart and +babbled half-delirious beastliness. + +We were in a big, bare kitchen, the other door of which was closed. There +was no sign of anyone about, and Brocton, still with his sword ready for +me, bawled out, "Where are you, you old hag?" + +The door opened at once. Brocton dropped his sword in his fright and I +clapped my foot on it. The two men fled like rabbits. Familiar as the +picture is to my mind, it is hard to find words to fit this crowning +moment of my adventures. + +Margaret walked into the room. + +For a second she was minded to rush at me, but thought better of it, and +walked up to his lordship. She towered over his limp, cringing figure, and +said coldly, "You are too poor a cur to be struck by a woman or I would +strike you." + +She was not alone. Master Freake was now wringing my shackled hands +delightedly, and a little, deft man, whom I knew on sight to be Dot +Gibson, was searching his unresisting lordship's pockets for the key of +the irons. A minute later he banged them on the floor and said, "And how +do you find yourself, sir?" + +There's no more to be said about Brocton. He was as good as dead for the +remainder of the business, and no one heeded him any more than if he had +been a loathsome insect that a man's foot had trodden on. And what killed +him was the presence of a third man, a perfect stranger to me. He was an +old-looking rather than an old man, with rheumy eyes that looked through +narrow slits, and a big unshapely nose; the skin of his face was brown and +crinkled like a dried-up bladder; his whole appearance as a man was mean +and paltry. What distinction he had was given him by gorgeous clothing and +the attendance of a pompous ass in a flaming livery. Yet Brocton dared not +look at him again, as he shuffled forward on his man's arm to speak to +Master Freake. + +"Mr. Freake," he piped, laying an imploring hand on the merchant's arm, +"you will not be too hard on my foolish son?" + +It was the old rascal Earl of Ridgeley. I had not seen him since the +trial, when I was but a lad. In the meantime vice had eaten out of him +such manliness as had ever been in him. Rascaldom was still stamped on +him, but he was now in a state of abject terror. He and his son were +indeed, as Jane puts it to this day, two to a pair. + +"Your lordships will be pleased to wait on me in the room yonder," said +Master Freake, in his grave, decisive way, "and I will tell you my will on +the matter." + +He bowed ironically towards the door. Their unlordly lordships went off +together, and he followed and closed the door behind him. Dot sensibly +hustled off the lackey, and so we were alone together. + +As ever, I had my full reward. She turned to me, took my hands in hers, +and whispered, "My splendid Oliver!" + +"What, madam?" said I, laughing lest I should do otherwise and most +unbecomingly. "In a red beard?" + +"You look like a Cossack!" she declared, laughing in her turn. + +So, in the way we had, we kept ourselves at arm's length from each other +and dropped at once into our old footing. + +Then, bit by bit, and unwillingly, and mainly in answers to my questions, +she told a tale that made my heart bound within me. This is the mere +skeleton of it, for I have no skill to give body and soul to such devotion. + +The Colonel brought the news of my capture by Brocton, pieced together +from the stories of my men, who got back unhurt, and of one of Brocton's +dragoons who was luckily taken prisoner in order to be questioned. +Margaret had immediately started on horseback for London, with one English +servant in attendance, going by Appleby to evade the Duke's army, and +across the mountains to Darlington. There she had travelled flying post +down the great north road, getting to London in five days thirteen hours +after her start from Penrith. + +Master Freake had started back with her within five hours of her arrival. +They travelled post through Leicester and Derby, and then on over ground +that was familiar. No wonder I had thought her near, since she had passed +within fifty paces of me as I shambled about dreaming of her. Part of the +five hours' delay in London was taken up by a visit paid by Master Freake +to the Earl of Ridgeley. He had gone forth stern and resolute. What had +happened she did not know, but as they sped north the Earl sped north a +mile behind them, as if they were dragging him along by his heart-strings. +At Carlisle, now in the hands of the Duke, they drew blank, for Brocton +was unaccountably absent from military duty. Fortunately Margaret, from +the window of her room, saw the sergeant ride by. Dot was sent on his +track and learned that Brocton was here, the house being a hunting-lodge +belonging to a crony of his who was an officer in the Cumberland militia. +They had ridden out that morning to see him, at which point her tale +linked up with mine and ended. + +"I am greatly indebted to you, Margaret," said I, very lamely, slipping +out her name at unawares. + +"Nonsense!" she cried. "May I not do as much as your pet ghostie did for +you without being a miracle? Do not you dare, sir, to offer me a +pinnerfull of guineas!" + +She looked at me with a merry twinkle in her eyes, and I feel sure I knew +what she was thinking of. But Nance Lousely was a simple country maiden, +such as I was born and bred amongst, and at that time I had no vile red +stubble, rough as a horse-comb, on my chin. + +We were interrupted by the lackey, who came with Mr. Dot Gibson's +respects to his honour, and would his honour like the refreshment of a +shave and a bath as both were at his service? Like master, like man. This +resplendent person was for the nonce humility's self. I went with him and +was made clean and comfortable, and my rags trimmed a little. + +This was preliminary to being summoned by Master Freake to a discussion +with their lordships, with whom was Margaret, aloof and icy. + +"At the 'Ring o' Bells,'" began Master Freake, addressing me, "you took +from my lord Brocton's sergeant, now dead, a bundle of papers?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Among them a letter addressed simply, 'To His Royal Highness'?" + +"That is so, sir." + +"You gave that letter to me, unopened, in the presence of Mistress +Waynflete?" + +"I did," said I, and Margaret nodded agreement. + +"Several attempts have been made to recover the letter from you?" + +"At least three such attempts were made by the late sergeant, and two by +my lord Brocton," I replied. + +"Their lordships' urgent need of recovering the letter is thus proven, +and the Court will attach due weight to the facts," said Master Freake. +Brocton turned white as a sheet, and the old rogue shook as a dead leaf +shakes on its twig before the wind strips it off. There was in them none +of the family pride which keeps the great families agoing. + +"I opened the letter. I mastered its contents. I still have it," +continued Master Freake, every sentence, like the crash of a +sledge-hammer, making these craven bystanders shake at the knees. "It is +deposited, sealed up again, with a sure friend, who has instructions, +unless I claim it in person on or before the last day of this year, to +deliver it in person to the King. At present no one knows its contents +except my lord Brocton who wrote it, and I who read it." + +"Thank God!" ejaculated the rascal old earl fervently. + +"Egad," thought I to myself. "It's the Ridgeley estates no less." + +"We will call it, for the purposes of our discussion," said Master Freake +soothingly, "a letter about certain lands." + +"Yes! Yes! Certainly! A letter about lands! So it was!" cried the Earl +eagerly, and Brocton began to look less like a coward on the scaffold. + +"Would you prefer any other designation or description, my lords?" +inquired Master Freake. + +"I'm quite satisfied, my good Master Freake," babbled the Earl. + +"What lands?" I burst out, unable to hold in my curiosity any longer. + +"The lands known as the Upper Hanyards in the county of Staffordshire," +replied Master Freake. + +"Well I'm ----," cried I, in amazement, but pulling up in time, and +Margaret's blue eyes were as wide open as mine. + +"You are, Master Oliver Wheatman," said Master Freake, "the future, +rightful owner of the ancient estate of your family in all its former +amplitude; and all arrearages of rents and incomings as from the +thirteenth of April, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two, with +compound interest at the rate of ten per cent per annum, together with a +compensation for disturbance and vexation caused to you and yours, +provisionally fixed in the sum of two thousand pounds. The Earl of +Ridgeley, smitten to the heart by the remembrance of his roguery and +knavery, has agreed to make this full restitution. Am I right, my lord?" + +"Absolutely, Master Freake, if you please," whined the rascal old earl. +"My God, I'm a ruined man!" + +"Well, my lord," said Master Freake, "if you lose your lands and moneys, +and I will not bate an acre or a guinea of the full tale, you and your son +will at least retain what, as I see, you both value more highly. The +restitution is to be made by you to me personally, so that we can avoid +quibbles about Oliver's legal position, he being a rebel confessed, and +the day after he is inlawed I will in my turn convey the property in both +kinds to him. When the restitution has been fully and legally made, +without speck or flaw in title, and passed as such by my lawyers, the +letter will be returned to you sealed as now, and of course I shall be +rigidly silent on the matter. Your lordships," he ended coldly, "may start +for London at once to see to the matter." + +The old earl started for the door eagerly, calling down on his son dire +and foul curses. Brocton looked poisonously at me before following, and I +knew I had not done with him yet. + +"I've got you your lands, Oliver, but there has been no time to get you +pardoned. The King was at Windsor; every moment was precious; and there +was no use, in the temper of the town, in dealing with underlings. It will +not do to run any risk of your being retaken, for Cumberland loves +blood-letting, and is no friend of mine. We shall take you to a little +fishing village on the Solway and get you a cast over to Dublin, whither +my good ship, 'Merchant of London,' Jonadab Kilroot, Master, outward bound +for the Americas, will pick you up. When we all meet again in London, in a +few months, you will be pardoned. Margaret and I must now follow her +father. The Stuart cause is smashed to pieces." + + * * * * * + +Late that night I stood with Margaret on the end of a jetty in a little +fishing village on the Cumberland coast. Master Freake was giving final +instructions to the owner of a herring-buss that was creaking noisily +against the side of the jetty under the swell of the tide. Dot was busily +handing to one of her crew of two certain packages for my use. + +We stood together, and she had linked her arm in mine. We who had been so +close together for a month were now to have an ocean put between us. Not +that that mattered to me, already separated from her by something wider +than the Atlantic, a lonely unnamed grave away there in Staffordshire. + +Suddenly she called to Dot, and he, as knowing just what she wanted, +brought her a box. She loosed her arm from mine and took it from him, and +when I would in turn have relieved her of it, she gently refused. + +"Oliver," she said, in quiet, firm tones, "you met me when I was in grave +danger and immediately, like the gallant gentleman you are, left mother +and home to do me service." + +"It was the privilege of my life, madam," I said earnestly. + +"You have sweetened your service by so regarding it, giving greatly when +you gave. And, sir, that service put me in your debt. You see that?" + +"It is like you to say so. What of it?" + +"The time came when you were in danger, and I, in my turn, left my father +and rode hard to save you. I am not boasting, you understand, sir. I am +merely stating a fact. I rendered service for service, like for like, did +I not, sir?" + +"You did, madam, and did it splendidly," said I. + +"Then, sir, when we meet again," she said, and she was now speaking very +clearly and sweetly, looking me full in the eyes, potent in all her beauty +and queenliness, "when we meet again, we meet on level terms." + +"Are you ready, lad?" called Master Freake. + +"Coming, sir!" I cried, almost glad at heart of the escape. + +"One moment, Oliver!" said Margaret. "So anxious to be rid of me? Nay, I +jest of course! I've a little present for you here, Oliver. It will, I +hope, make you think of me at times." + +"It will not," I replied, smiling. "It will make me think oftener of you, +that's all." + +She handed me the box, and we walked up to the boat. + +The half-moon was bright in an unclouded sky, and it showed me tears on +Margaret's cheeks, as I bent to clasp and kiss her hand. Then I said +good-bye to Master Freake and Dot, and was helped into the boat. + +So we parted, and I set my face toward the New World. For ten weary +months there is nothing to be said that belongs of right and necessity to +my story. + +Except this: The first thing I did when I was alone in my cabin on the +good ship, the "Merchant of London," was to open Margaret's box. It +contained a full supply of books wherefrom to learn "the only language one +can love in," and on the fly-leaf of a sumptuous "Dante" she had written, +"From Margaret to Oliver." + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON + + +Of how I fared the seas with Jonadab Kilroot, master of the stolid +barque, "Merchant of London," I say nothing, or as good as nothing. Master +Kilroot was a noisy, bulky man, with a whiff of the tar-barrel ever about +him and a heart as stout as a ship's biscuit. He feared God always, and +drubbed his men whenever it was necessary; in his estimation the office of +sea-captain was the most important under heaven, and Master John Freake +the greatest man on earth. + +The ship remained at anchor in Dublin harbour while tailors and tradesmen +of all sorts fitted me out, for Master Freake had given me guineas enough +for a horse-load. I did very well, for Dublin is a vice-regal city, with a +Parliament of its own and reasonable society, so that the modes and +fashions are not more than a year or so behind London, which did not +matter to a man going to the Americas. + +From Dublin I wrote home. I had laid one strict injunction on Margaret. +She was not to go to the Hanyards, or write there, or allow anyone else to +do either. I would not suffer her to know, or to run any chance of +knowing, about Jack. She was greatly troubled over the matter, but I was +so decided that she consented to my demand. It cost me a world of pains to +write. I wrote, rewrote, and tore up scores of letters. Finally I merely +sent them word that I was going to America to wait till the trouble was +blown over, and that I should be with them again as soon as possible. I +gave them no address. It was cowardly, but I could not bring myself to it. +The nightmare that haunted me was my going home, home to our Kate, the +sweetest sister man ever had, with her young heart wrapped for ever in +widow's weeds. I used to dream that I rode up to the yard-gate on Sultan, +and every time, in my dream, the Hanyards looked so desolate and +woebegone, as if the very barns and byres were mourning for the dear dead +lad who had played amongst them, that I pulled Sultan round and spurred +him away till he flew like the wind, and I woke up in a cold sweat. + +On a Wednesday morning in the middle of February the "Merchant of London" +swung into Boston Harbour on a full tide and was moored fast by the Long +Wharf. Master Kilroot hurried me ashore to the house of the great Boston +merchant, Mr. Peter Faneuil, to whom I carried a letter from Master +Freake. It was enough. My friend's protecting arm reached across the +Atlantic, and if it were part of my plan to tell at length of my doings in +the New World, I should have much to say about this worthy merchant of +Boston. He was earnest and assiduous in his kindness, and so far as my +exile was pleasant he made it so. + +Mr. Faneuil was urgent that I should take up my abode with him, but this +I gratefully declined, and he thereon recommended me to lodge with the +widow of a ship-captain who had been drowned in his service. So I took +lodging with her at her house in Brattles Street, and she made me very +comfortable. She had a daughter, a pretty frolic lass of nine, who +promoted me uncle the first day, and one negro slave, who was the autocrat +of the establishment till my coming put his nose out of joint, as we say +in Staffordshire. + +Master Kilroot unshipped most of his inward cargo and sailed away for +Carolina and Virginia to get rice and tobacco. Then he would come back +here to make up his return cargo with dried fish, to be exchanged at +Lisbon for wine for England. This was his ordinary round of trade, and a +very profitable traffic it was. + +When he had left, I settled down to make my exile profitable. By a great +slice of luck there was at this time in Boston an Italian, one Signor +Zandra, who gave lessons in his native tongue openly and in the art of +dancing secretly. The wealth of the town was growing apace; there was a +leisured class, and, speaking generally, the Bostonians were alert of mind +and desirous of knowledge above any other set of men I have ever lived +among. In the near-by town of Cambridge there was a vigorous little +university with more than a hundred students. Moreover, there was a rising +political spirit which gave me a keen interest in the men who breathed the +quick vital air of this vigorous new England. In many respects I found +myself back in the times of Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, captain of horse +in the army of the Lord-General. The genuine, if somewhat narrow, piety of +the Bostoneers reminded me of him, and still more their healthy critical +attitude towards rulers in general and kings in particular. They had the +old Puritan stuff in them too, for some eight months before they had +captured Louisberg from the French, a famous military exploit which the +great Lord-General would have gloried in. + +My days were all twins to each other. Every morning, after breakfast, I +went abroad and always the same way: past the quaint Town House, down King +Street, and so on to the Long Wharf to see if a ship had come in from +England, and to ask the captain thereof if he had brought a letter for one +Oliver Wheatman at Mr. Peter Faneuil's. I got no letter and no news. Then, +always a little sad in heart, I strolled back, and looked in at Wilkins' +book-shop, where some of the town notables were always to be found, and +where, one May morning, as I was higgling over the purchase of a fine +Virgil, I made the acquaintance of a remarkable young gentleman, Mr. Sam +Adams, a genius by birth, a maltster by trade, and a politician by choice. +We would discuss books together in Master Wilkins', or slip out to a +retired inn called "The Two Palaverers" and discuss politics over a glass +of wine and a pipe of tobacco. I liked him so much that I was afraid to +tell him I had been fighting for the Stuarts, and was content to pass in +the role Mr. Faneuil had assigned to me of an ingenuous young English +gentleman who had come out to study colonial matters on the spot before +entering Parliament. Our talk over, I went on to Signor Zandra's and +worked at Italian for two hours. Most days I took him back to my lodging +for dinner and read and talked Italian with him for another hour or two. +The rest of the day I gave to reading, exercising, and, thanks to the good +merchant, to the best society in Boston. + +Occasionally, when I knew for certain that no ship would clear for home +for two or three days, I made little shooting journeys inland, but in the +main this is how I spent my days, filling them with work and distraction +so as not to have idle hours for idler thinking. Spring passed, summer +came and went, and the leaves were turning from gold to brown when one +morning, as I was at breakfast, Mr. Faneuil's man came in with a letter. +It was from Master Freake, summoning me home as all was put right. It +contained a few lines from Margaret, written in Italian. A ship was +sailing for London that day, and I went on her. + + * * * * * + +Jonadab Kilroot had found his way across the Atlantic into Boston Harbour +much more easily than I was finding mine across London to Master Freake's +house in Queen Anne's Gate. It was after nine at night, at which late +hour, of course, I did not intend to arouse the inmates, but I meant to +find the place so that I could stand outside and imagine Margaret within, +perchance dreaming of me. At last I observed that men with torches were +clearly being used as guides through this black maze of streets, and I +stopped one such and offered him a guinea to do his office for me. He was +a lean, shabby, hungry-looking man, who might be forty by the look of him. +He stared vacantly at me for a few seconds, and then hurriedly led the +way, holding his link high over his head. + +This trouble over, another began, which put me in a towering rage. A +gaudy young gentleman bumped into me and, though it was clearly his fault, +I apologized and passed on, leaving him hopping about on one foot and +nursing the other, which I had trodden on. He swore at me worse than a +boatswain at a lubber, and but for the exquisite pain I had caused him I +should have gone into the matter with him. I found my linkman leaning +against a post and laughing heartily. + +"Never you mind, sir. He'll not take the wall of you again in a hurry." + +"Take the wall?" I said. + +"Done on purpose, sir, to pick a quarrel with you. The young sparks do it +for a game." + +Not much farther on, we met a sedan, with an elegant young lady in it, +and an elegant gentleman walking along by her close up to the chains, she +being in the roadway. There was ample room for me to pass between him and +the wall, which was also the courteous thing to do; but as soon as my +linkman had passed him, he shot clean in my way. I gave him all the wall +he wanted and more, bumping his head against it till he apologized humbly +through his rattling teeth. The lady shrieked viciously at me, and one of +her chairmen, my back being turned, pulled out his pole and came to attack +me. My man, however, very dexterously pushed the link in his face as he +was straddling over the chains, and he dropped the pole and spat and +spluttered tremendously. I stepped across to the lady and apologized for +detaining her, and then my man and I went on, easy victors. + +Arrived at Queen Anne's Gate, another surprise awaited me. Master +Freake's windows were ablaze with light, and the door was being held open +by a man in handsome livery to admit an exquisite gentleman and a more +exquisite lady who had just arrived there in chairs. I gave my man his +guinea, and after dousing his link in a great iron extinguisher at the +side of the door, he sped happily away. After watching the arrival of +three or four more chairs and one carriage, I summoned up all my +resolution and gave a feeble rat-tat with the massive iron lion's-head +which served as knocker. + +The man in livery opened to me, and I was inside before he could observe +that I was an intruder. True, I was in my best clothes--my Sunday clothes, +as I should have called them at home--and they were none so bad; but they +had been made in Boston, where fashions ranged on the sober side. Here I +looked like a sparrow in a flight of bull-finches. + +"Can I see Master Freake?" said I. + +"No," said he, with uncompromising promptness. + +"Is he at home?" + +"No," he retorted. + +"This is his house, I think?" + +"It is," he assented. + +"Then I suppose all these people are coming to see you--and cook," said I +gravely. + +The sarcasm might have got through his thick skin perhaps but for the +intervention of another liveried gentleman, who briefly asserted that I +was "off my head," and proposed a muster of forces to throw me out. My own +feeling distinctly was that I was on my head, not off it; but his +suggestion interested me, as I do not take readily to being thrown out of +anything or anywhere. Luckily, a fresh arrival took their attention off me +for a minute or two, and while I was standing aside to admire the lady, +who should come statelily down the grand staircase into the hall but Dot +Gibson. He too was in livery, but of a grave, genteel sort. + +"Hello, Dot," said I, accosting him quietly. + +It bounced all the gravity out of him. He shook my outstretched hand +vigorously, and then apologized for doing so, saying he was so glad to see +me. "Jorkins, you great ass," cried he to the first servant, "what do you +mean by keeping his honour waiting?" + +Jorkins looked apprehensively at Dot and the suggester of violence looked +apprehensively at Jorkins; but Dot was too full to bother with them, and +went on: "Mr. Freake will be delighted, sir, and so will Miss Waynflete. +They're always talking of you. Come along, sir! Allow me to precede you." + +He took me upstairs into the library, and left me there alone. In a few +seconds Master Freake burst in on me. + +"My dear lad," he cried, wringing my hand heartily, "welcome--a thousand +times welcome!" + +"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be back," was all I could say. + +He put a hand on each shoulder and stood at arm's length to examine me. + +"And we're glad to have you back, looking as fit and brown as a bronze +gladiator. Come along to your room! It's been ready for you this three +months, for that silly Margaret set to work on it the very day we sent off +your letter." + +"How is Mistress Waynflete, sir?" + +"You'll see in five minutes if you'll only bestir yourself. The wits say +that there's no need for George to furnish the town with a new queen as I +have provided it with an empress." + +He hurried me off to my room, as he called it, and it was so grand that I +crept about it on tiptoe for fear of damaging something. There was +everything a young man could want except clothes, and Master Freake +laughingly assured me that they (meaning Margaret and himself) had puzzled +for hours to see if they could manage them, but had given it up in despair. + +"I declared you'd pine and get thin," he said, "and she vowed you'd get +lazy and fat." + +I felt very doltish and unready as I followed him to the drawing-room. It +was very clear to me that no meeting on level terms was in front of me, +and when I got into a large, brilliant room where some dozen splendid +ladies and as many elegant, easy-mannered gentlemen were assembled, I felt +inclined to turn tail. + +"Empress." It was the exact word. Master Freake put his arm in mine and +led me towards her. She was sitting throned in one corner of a roomy, +cushioned sofa, with half a dozen young men--the least of them an earl, I +thought bitterly--bending round her as the brethren's sheaves bent round +Joseph's. And, as if she were not overpowering enough of herself, +everything that consummate skill and the nicest artistry could do to +enhance her beauty had been done. Juno banqueting with the gods had not +looked more superb. "On level terms," I whispered to myself mockingly, as +Master Freake led me on, for one of the circling sheaves, with whom she +was exchanging easy, lightsome banter, was my finely chiselled +acquaintance, the Marquess of Tiverton. + +Except that she cut a quip in two when she saw who it was that Master +Freake was bringing, Margaret gave no sign of surprise. She neither paled +nor reddened, nor gushed nor faltered. Empress-like she simply added me to +her train. + +"I bring you an old friend, Margaret," said Master Freake, for whom, as I +saw, the worshippers round the idol made way respectfully. + +"And my old friend is very welcome, sir," she answered, holding out her +hand. I bowed over it and kissed it. I thought that it trembled a little +as it lay in mine, but it is at least probable that I was the source of +what fluttering there was. + +"I trust you have had a good voyage, Mr. Wheatman?" she questioned easily. + +"Excellent, madam," I replied, with imitative lightness of tone. "It was +like rowing on a river." + +For a moment her eyes steadied and darkened, then she said with a smile, +"That being so, even I, who am no sailor, should have enjoyed it along +with you." + +This was how we met. Whether on level terms or not, who shall decide? + +"I say, Mr. Wheatman," broke in the pleasant voice of the Marquess, "you +don't happen to have any venison-pasty on you, I suppose? I've got some +rattling good snuff, and I'll give you a pinch for a plateful, as I did up +in Staffordshire. I vow, Miss Waynflete, it makes me hungry to see him." + +This speech caused much laughter, and Margaret said it was fortunate +supper was ready. She then introduced me to the company around, and when +this was done, Master Freake fetched me to renew the acquaintance of Sir +James Blount and his lady, so that I was soon full of talk and merriment. + +Supper and talk, wine and talk, basset and talk--so the time went by till +long after midnight. Then one by one the guests dropped off. The Marquess +lingered longest, and on going, pledged me to call on him next morning. + +"At last," said Margaret. "Beauty sleep is out of the question to-night, +Oliver, so tell us everything about everything. It's glorious to have you +back." + +It is not my purpose to dwell on my life in London. After a few days it +became one long agony because of, but not by means of, Margaret. She did +her best for me, and was all patience, kindness, and graciousness, and was +plainly bent on living on level terms with me according to her promise and +prophecy. It only required a day or two to show me that she had many a man +of rank and wealth in thrall. As wealth went then, the Marquess of +Tiverton was, by his own fault and foolishness, a poorish man, but he was +lost in love of her, and he was only one of the many exquisites who were +for ever in and out of Master Freake's fine mansion. It did not become a +Wheatman of the Hanyards to cringe or be abashed in any company, and with +the best of them I kept on terms of ease and intimacy. I dressed as well, +and perchance looked as well, as they did, and if my accomplishments +differed from theirs they differed for the better in Margaret's eyes, +which were the only eyes that mattered. + +Brief as I intend to be, I must set down a few jottings on things that +belong to the texture of my story. To begin with, the Colonel, though +pardoned, was still in France, looking after his affairs there, for before +starting to join the Prince he had wisely shifted all his fortune over to +Paris. + +Davie Ogilvie had got clear away after Culloden, and his sweet Ishbel, +though taken after the battle, had been permitted to join him there. It +was a great comfort to know they were safe, for there were sad relics of +my escapade in London--the row of ghastly, grinning heads over Temple Bar. + +Soon after my arrival, Master Freake had sent for his lawyers and +delivered to me in full possession the Upper Hanyards and the huge tale of +guineas which the rascal old earl had disgorged as the price of the +letter. Master Freake kept a rigid silence over the contents of that +famous document "about lands," and I had no wish to know. It was worth a +thousand acres and near ten thousand guineas to the Earl. I was satisfied +if he was. I put my guineas in a bank of Master Freake's choosing. What a +dowry I could have given Kate if-- + +My Lord Brocton was in town. I saw him several times, in the street or at +the play, but took no notice of him. He was said to be eagerly hunting +after a lady of meagre attractions but enormous fortune. Twice when I saw +him he had with him the fellow I had bumped against the wall, a notorious +shark and swashbuckler, by name and rank Sir Patrick Gee. Tiverton, who +had his own reasons for being interested in Brocton, told me they were +hand and glove together. + +In a little while a month may be, a change came over the relation in +which Margaret and I stood to each other. We both fought against it but in +vain. We could not travel on parallel lines, we two. We must either +converge or diverge, and fate had given me no choice. + +I used to pretend I was going out, to ride or lounge with the Marquess or +some other acquaintance, and then slip upstairs to the quiet old library, +bury myself in a windowed recess cut off by curtains, and try to forget it +all in a book. Fool-like I thought I could solve my problem so. The +Hanyards was calling me and I dared not go. I should leave Margaret, and I +could not leave her. + +Why, I asked myself a thousand times, was I so poor a cur compared with +Donald? He had done what I had done, and he had seen his way at once and +followed it. He would not live, having, in all innocence and with the most +urgent of all reasons, killed his friend. Not that I felt that his +solution was my solution. My duty was to leave Margaret and to go to Kate, +to help her, to the best of my ability, to live down her sorrow, and to +show by my life and conduct that I would pay the price. And here I was, +hovering moth-like round the flame. + +Then again I would say that I would wait till the inevitable had +happened, and Margaret was married to Tiverton. Anything to put it off, +that was really all I was capable of. + +To me, in my recess, Margaret came one morning. + +"I thought you'd gone out, Oliver," she began. + +"No," said I. "I altered my mind, and thought I'd like reading better." + +"You puzzle me. Are you quite well?" + +"As fit as a fiddle," said I cheerily, and rose to give her my seat, for +the recess would only hold one. + +"You're not to move, sir." + +She fetched a couple of cushions, flung them by the window, and curled up +on them. I wished she wouldn't, for she made a glorious picture. + +"Now, sir, I am going to have it out with you," she said severely and +smilingly. I smiled back, and pulled myself together. + +"I hope 'it' is not a very serious 'it,' madam," I replied. + +"It may be. Does your head ever trouble you?" + +"My head ever trouble me?" I gasped, taken aback. + +"Yes, your head, sir. When you fell down those stairs you received a very +serious wound on the head. It gaped open so that I could have laid a +finger in the hole. Are you sure it doesn't trouble you, Oliver? Blows on +the head are dreadful things, you know." + +"Look at it," said I, popping my head down, and very glad of the chance. + +Her beautiful fingers parted my thick, short, bristly hair and found the +spot. + +"There's nothing wrong with the skull, is there?" I asked. + +"No," very doubtfully. "It's healed splendidly." + +"Now, madam," said I, "talk to me in Italian!" + +It was the first time, by chance, that I had thought of it. + +For ten minutes she questioned and cross-questioned me in Italian on all +sorts of subjects, and I came out of the ordeal pretty well--thanks to +Signor Zandra. + +"Point one," said I in English. "The outside of my head is all right. +Point two: are you satisfied with the inside?" + +For a full minute she gazed in silence at her feet, twisting them about +swiftly and somewhat forgetfully. It was trying, almost merciless, for +she was very beautiful. + +"Yes," she said at length, but without looking at me. "You've done +marvellously well." + +"In the only language one can love in," I said bitterly. + +The words had no apparent effect. She still stared at her twinkling feet. +Suddenly she lifted her eyes up to mine and said, almost sharply, "Then +what did happen to you between the Hanyards and Leek to change you?" + +It was clean, swift hitting, and made me gasp, but I managed to escape. + +"Madam," said I, "I set out with you from the Hanyards to serve you and +for no other purpose whatsoever. In my opinion, speaking in all modesty, I +served you as well after Leek as before it. At least, I tried to." + +She leaped up, and, with great sweeps of her arm, flung the cushions into +the library. She said briefly, "And you succeeded, sir!" Then she left me. +swiftly and passionately, without another word or look. + +After this, the gap between us became obvious. + +Meanwhile the Marquess of Tiverton was doing his best to give me a +competent knowledge of the Court-end of the town. He had a spacious +mansion in Bloomsbury Square, but this was now let to a great nabob, and +he himself lived in close-shorn splendour in a small house in St. James's. +Here I saw much of him, for commonly I would stroll round late in the +forenoon and rout him out of bed. By an odd turn we took to each other +greatly, and while he drank chocolate in bed or trifled with his breakfast +we had many talks on the few subjects that mattered to him. + +Our favourite theme was Margaret, whom he outspokenly worshipped. He +rhapsodized over her in great stretches, calling me to testify with him to +her divineness, and rating me soundly if, in the bitterness of my heart, I +was a little laggard in my devotions. And, at irregular intervals, like +Selah in the Psalms, he would intone dolefully, "And I can't marry her!" + +It was no use my protesting that an unmarried man could marry any woman +he liked if she would have him. + +"A man can," he would reply, "but a bankrupt marquess can't. I've got to +marry that jade. Pah! She's as lank as a hop-pole and as yellow as a +guinea. But what's a marquess to do, Noll? They say she could tie up the +neck and armholes of her shift and fill it with diamonds. Damn her! I wish +Brocton would snap her up, but he can't. He'll never be more than an earl +and I'm a marquess. Curse my luck! Fancy me a marquess! I'm a disgrace to +my order and as poor as a crow." + +The 'jade' referred to was the nabob's only daughter and heiress, who +was, as all the town knew, to make a great match. My Lord Brocton was +keenly in pursuit of her, but she inclined to the Marquess, who could have +had her and her vast fortune any day for the asking. She was certainly not +overdone with charms, but Tiverton in his anger had made her out worse +than she was. + +The morning after my encounter with Margaret in the recess, Tiverton was +more than usually talkative, the fact being not unconnected, I imagine, +with an unsuccessful bout at White's the night previous. We got through +our usual talk about Margaret and the nabobess, and then he struck out a +new line. + +"Now if the divine Margaret," he said, "rightly so named as the pearl of +great price among women, were only Freake's daughter and heiress, I'd be +on my knees before her in a jiffy. They say he made cartfuls of money over +that Jacobite business. Everybody here was selling at any price the stocks +would fetch, and he was buying right and left on his own terms. He was +back here, knowing of the retreat from Derby, over twenty-four hours +before the courier came, and the old fox kept the news to himself. He's +the first man out of the city to set up house in the Court-end. Old +Borrowdell shifted his tabernacle as far west as Hatton Gardens in my +father's time, and that was thought pretty big and bold, but here's Freake +right in the thick of it, and holds his own like a lion among jackals. +Fact is, he's a right-down good fellow. Being a marquess, I ought to +despise him, 'stead of which I feel like a worm whenever he comes near me, +and that, mark ye, Noll, not because I owe him close on ten thousand. I +used to owe a rascal named Blayton quite as much, and every time he came +whining round here I either wanted to kick him out or did it. Heigh-ho! +I'm in the very devil of a mess but I'll cheat scraggy-neck yet. I'll +reform outright, Noll. I'll never touch a card again as long as I live." + +"That's the talk!" said I heartily. "Eat something and let's have the +horses out for a gallop across Putney Heath." + +Next evening, early, being very miserable, I went round to the Blounts, +with whom I was very friendly. I forgot myself for a time, it being +impossible to think of anything while lying on my back on the hearth, with +baby Blount trying to pull my hair out by the roots and cutting a stubborn +tooth on my nose. He was a delightful, pitiless, young rascal and would +leave anything and anybody to maul me about. + +I had, however, for once mistaken my billet, for while thus engaged who +should come in with his mother but Margaret? + +"Aren't you afraid to trust baby with such an inexperienced nurse?" asked +Margaret, smiling at my discomfiture, for I had to lie there till I was +rescued from the young dog's clutches. + +"Not at all. When he's with a baby, he becomes a baby, which is what they +want. He'll make an ideal father, don't you think?" said her ladyship +happily. + +"I think he will," said Margaret in a very judicial tone, but she +coloured as she said it. + +While Lady Blount disposed of baby, Margaret beckoned me aside. "Oliver, +you'll do me a favour, won't you?" she asked. + +"Certainly," said I. + +"As I came here in a chair, I saw the Marquess going into White's. I fear +he may be gambling again. He easily yields to the temptation, and soon +becomes reckless. Will you call in, as if by chance, and coax him out? I +would have him saved from himself, and you have great influence over him." + +"If he won't come out," said I, smiling, "I'll lug him out!" + +I excused myself to Lady Blount and set forth on my errand, willingly +enough, since she desired it and I liked him, but all the way I thought of +her anxious face as she asked me. + +At White's I found Tiverton playing piquet with Brocton. A heap of +guineas was by his side, and he was flushed and excited with success. The +bout had attracted some attention, for the stakes were running high, and +eight or nine men were gathered round the players, among them Sir Patrick +Gee. I waited while the hand was played out. Tiverton repiqued his +opponent, and joyously raked over to his side of the table four tall piles +of guineas. + +It was my first meeting with Brocton. Chance and Margaret had brought us +together again. + +"Egad, Tiverton," said I to the Marquess, who now first observed me, "you +had the cards that time with a vengeance. Are you playing on? What about +your engagement with me?" + +The Marquess coloured slightly at my veiled rebuke. He looked doubtfully +at his watch, then at me, and finally at Brocton. + +"Have you had enough?" he asked. + +"Enough?" cried Brocton. "Since you took up with farmers you've got +chicken-hearted at cards. Play on, my lord!" + +"I have told you," said I quietly to Brocton, "that his lordship has an +engagement with me. That should be enough. If you want your revenge, which +is natural, there are other nights available." + +"I want my revenge now, and will have it," he said meaningly, "and this +is how I serve men who come between me and my revenge." He was shuffling a +pack of cards as he spoke, and, with the words, he flung them in my face. + +At most of the tables play stopped, and the players there became silently +intent on this new game where the stakes ran highest of all. It meant a +fight, a fight between an expert swordsman and a man who knew nothing of +the craft. To such a fight there could be but one end. + +Tiverton was beside himself. "She'll never forgive me!" he muttered, and +I looked amusedly at him and whispered, "Who? The nabobess?" + +He was the highest in rank there, and as such a court of appeal and a +sort of master of the ceremonies. + +"My Lord Tiverton," said I aloud, "I am, as you know, a recent arrival in +town from the Americas and other outlandish places, and, naturally enough +under these circumstances, I am not clear on some points." + +"It's clear you've been swiped across the face," broke in Sir Patrick Gee. + +"Hold your tongue, sir!" said Tiverton, looking quietly at him. "Proceed, +Mr. Wheatman!" + +It made me smile again, tight as the corner was, to see the play-acting +spirit creeping over him. He was beginning to enjoy himself. + +"Therefore, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions," I +continued. + +"Certainly, sir," he replied, with great impressiveness, taking snuff in +great style while he awaited my questioning. + +"Is there any doubt that I am the insulted person?" + +"None whatever," he replied. "My Lord Brocton insulted you wantonly and +deliberately." + +"Then, my lord Marquess, I may be wrong, but I think I have the right of +choosing the place, the time, and the weapons." + +"Certainly, Mr. Wheatman," he answered. + +"Then if I choose to say, 'On the banks of the Susquehanna, ten years +hence, with tomahawks,' so it must be?" + +A wave of scornful laughter went round the room as the question passed +from mouth to mouth. Even the most ardent gamblers left their play to join +the circle around us. English even in their vices, they took a fight for +granted, but were up in a moment to see some fun. + +The Marquess was disconcerted. He obviously felt that I was about to +reflect on him in the gravest way; that, in short, I was backing out. He +would be tarnished by the dishonour that had driven me out of the world of +gentlemen. + +"I think," said he, "that would be overstraining the privileges of an +insulted gentleman." + +"Run away, farmer!" bellowed Sir Patrick raucously. + +Tiverton looked disdainfully at him. "You may like to know, my lords and +gentlemen," he said, as grandly as if he were reciting a set piece from +the stage, "that on the night of his arrival from Boston my friend was +rudely insulted in the Strand by a certain person." Here he stopped, +whirled round on the hulking scoundrel, and added grimly to him, "I shall +finish the story unless you leave the room at once." + +Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler. + +"Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my +unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again." + +"Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty. + +I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton. On +his face and in his cruel eyes there were the same gloating anticipations +that were there when, in Marry-me-quick's cottage, he thought he was +bending Margaret to his foul will. You could have heard a card drop in +that crowded room. + +My time had come to the tick. Stretching myself taut, I said slowly and +distinctly, "Here. Now. Fists." + +Brocton went limp and ghastly. I strode up to him, took him, unresisted, +by the scruff of the neck, and then said curtly, "Open the door, Tiverton." + +The willing little Marquess ran delightedly to do my bidding, and I +kicked my lord Brocton into the kennel and out of my life. + +Next morning I went round to Tiverton's as usual, and while he was at +breakfast, and we were starting our usual round of talk, in came Sir James +Blount, a stranger at such an hour. + +"Have you heard the news?" he asked abruptly. + +"What news?" asked Tiverton, rather sour at being cheated out of his +morning's consolatory grumble with me. + +"Mr. Freake has declared that Miss Waynflete is to be his sole heiress," +he replied. + +I had to thump Tiverton to prevent him being choked by something that +went the wrong way. We had an excited talk about the news, which Sir James +had received direct from Master Freake, which settled it as a fact beyond +dispute or change. Margaret was now the most desirable match in London +from every point of view. Blount went away quite pleased with the stir he +had made. + +"Henry! Henry!" yelled Tiverton as soon as we were alone, and in came his +man hastily. "Henry! What the devil do you mean by putting me into these +old rags? Damme! I look like a chairman. Go and get some decent things +out, you old rascal! I'm to call on the greatest lady in London town." + +He hurried off after his servant, and I heard him singing and shouting +over his second toilet. I crept miserably out of the house and made my way +to the mews. The ostler saddled my horse, a beautiful chestnut mare which +Master Freake had given me, and I rode out of town, deep in thought. +Mechanically, I went the way we had intended to go, and found myself at +last on the heights that overlook London from the north. Then I pulled up. + +The towers of the Abbey stood out nobly against the steel-blue sky. +Within their shadow was Master Freake's house where, by now, Tiverton +would not have pleaded his love in vain. I saw her there, in the splendid +room she always dimmed with her greater splendour, the exquisite Marquess +at her feet, happy in possession of the pearl of great price. Over this +vision a shadow came, and I saw the house-place at the Hanyards, with our +widowed Kate alone in her sorrow. Her flame-red hair was white as snow and +tears of blood were on her cheeks. Donald's farewell, _Weird mun hae +way_, boomed in my ears like a dirge. With a sigh that was near of kin +to a sob, I pulled the mare round and urged her northwards, northwards and +homewards. + +In my fear and trembling I shirked everything, doing childishly and more +than childishly. I was not on Sultan, and when I rode out of Lichfield I +hugged that simple fact to my heart. So much of my dream had at least not +come true, and I gave the lie to more of it by leaving the high road and +wandering devious ways till, within four or five miles of home, I left +even the by-ways and kept to the fields. So keen was I on my little +stratagems that I rode over the Upper Hanyards without once recalling the +fact that it was now mine as it had been my father's before me. About four +o'clock on a December day, just over a year since leaving home, I leaped +the mare over a hedge and was at the old gate. + +More of the dream was untrue. The winter sun was dropping down to the +hill-tops like a great carbuncle set in gold, and the Hanyards was all +aglow in its flaming rays. The gate was open, so that I could at least +begin by pitching into Joe Braggs for his negligence, and the windows of +the house-place shimmered a welcome because of the cheerful blaze within. + +Not a soul stirred. I jumped down, threw the reins over the gate-post, +and walked stealthily into the yard and up to the window. Still not a soul +stirred. + +I peeped in. + +There was our Kate, leaning lovingly over my chair, pillowed as she had +never pillowed it for me, and in the chair was clearly a man, for I could +see his stockings and breeches stretching comfortably past her skirts. She +laughed merrily at something said, and then stooped and kissed the person +in the chair. + +This was woman's faith! With a great clatter, I strode into the porch, +thrust open the door, and stepped in. There was a shout of delight, a +babble of, "It's our Noll! It's our Noll!" and Kate leaped into my arms +and rained kisses on me. + +The man followed her, slowly and feebly, leaning heavily on a stick. When +he turned his face so that the firelight showed him up, my legs sank +beneath me and my knees knocked together. It was Jack, dear old Jack, +nothing but the shadow of himself, but still Jack right enough, and his +hand was in mine. + +"Run, Kit!" he cried. "Get some wine! The lad's overcome. God bless you, +old Noll, how are you?" + +Kate ran off into the parlour, where our wine was stored. + +"Jack!" + +"Hello, Noll!" + +"I thought I'd killed you." + +"Was it you?" he asked, all amazed at my self-accusation. + +"Yes," I faltered. + +"By gom, Noll, you did give me a sock!" + +He heard Kate tripping back with the wine, and put his finger on his lips +for a warning. And that was the first and last remark Jack Dobson made on +the subject. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN + + +It took me to cure Jack. I administered one dose of medicine and he at +once began to fill out and get strong and chesty in a manner almost +absurd, whereon there was much twitting of our Kate who, in her old way, +rated me soundly in public and crept up to me in private, and kissed me +and wept gladly in the most approved maiden-like style. + +This was the way of it. I sent Joe Braggs into Stafford the day after I +got home to fetch out Master Dobson, and had him alone in my room. True he +was as near and grasping as ever, but I saw even this side of him in a new +light now, for he had been near and grasping for Jack. He was rather +uncertain when we met; glad enough, of course, to see an old friend back +again safe and sound, but dubious on the main point. + +"Master Dobson," said I, "your Jack desires to wed our Kate." + +"So he tells me," said he dolefully, rubbing his thin finger under the +edge of his bob-wig to scratch his perplexed head. + +"She is an excellent young woman, and a comely," said I, grinning at him. + +"Undoubtedly," he conceded. + +"But, as the head of the family, Master Dobson, I offer no objection to +the proposal." Much it would have mattered if I had, but I always take +credit when and while I can. + +"It's very kind of you, Ol ... Mr. Wheatman," said he, "but...." + +"Yes," said I encouragingly. + +"But there's what I may call the material side of the matter to be +considered. My son's bride should be suitable from the business point of +view." + +"I've been considering that point, Master Dobson. It is undoubtedly +important. Jack's a careless young dog, and I'm sure our Kate is just the +woman he wants from a business point of view. She'll keep an eye on every +meg in his pockets." + +"Tut, tut!" said he, stirred to action, as I knew he would be. "You +mistake me completely. My son will not be wanting in this world's gear and +he must have a wife to match." + +"I see," said I. "One with something substantial in her pocket." + +"Precisely," said he. + +"Well, Master Dobson, if our Kate is willing to marry your Jack, a point +on which I can offer only a conjecture, she will marry him with five +thousand pound in her pocket." + +He sat bolt upright and stared at me with his mouth wide open. + +We fetched them in, mother coming with them, and the old man there and +then gave them his blessing. Kate ran into mother's arms, while Jack wrung +my hand and danced for joy. Afterwards he ate the most astonishing dinner +imaginable, loudly asseverating that he was as right as nine-pence and +sick of slops. + +My coming back made a great noise all over our countryside. Of what I had +actually done there was no knowledge whatsoever. The tale went that I had +been to America and found a goldmine, and come home and bought back the +lost Hanyards. Acute sceptics in barbers' shops and market ordinaries +advanced the opinion that it must have been a very little goldmine, but +they were unable to substitute any other explanation and so fell into +contempt. The tale suited me and I never contradicted it. In a world where +a man who has travelled to London is a person of consideration and renown, +I, who had been to America, was as a god. My first visit to Stafford put +the sleepy old town into commotion. + +Every night around the fire in the house-place I told them of my +adventures. Jack, the sly fox, sat among his cushions, which he had not +been fool enough to discard along with his slops, with Kate on a low stool +at his knees. The vicar sat by mother's side on the settle. I drew a chair +close to her, so that her hand could clasp mine as I talked, and very +helpful I found it, for she understood in silence and in silence comforted +me. Jane laid supper, taking a long time over it, for between journeys to +and from the kitchen she would stand behind the settle and listen +wide-eyed to a spell of my talk. Every night the vicar said grace, adding, +in his simple, apostolic way, a special thanksgiving to the good God who +had brought the young lad safe home again, through perils by sea and +perils by land, and out of the very hands of evil men who had compassed +him about to destroy him. Then, after supper, I escorted the good man home +and came back through the moonlit lanes; and every night, without fail, I +went and stood on the very spot where the gaff had slipped out of my +collar, and I had turned round to see Margaret. + +The only discontented person in our little circle was Joe Braggs, who had +caught the dace that caught the jack, and so started me out of my jog-trot +yeoman's round into the great world of life and adventure. Joe had done +well while I had been away; our fields had yielded fruitfully under his +care as bailiff; and, having had a favourable harvest, we were much money +in hand on the year's working. I had thanked him heartily, confirmed him +as my bailiff now that I was back, and given him fifty guineas, a sum +which to him was wealth untold. Still the rascal was not satisfied, and +went about with a bear on his back, as Jane had it, so that I was greatly +tempted to clip his ear for him. + +The day before Christmas, he was busy all morning under Jane's garrulous +command, getting in bunches of holly and other evergreens from the +hedgerows. His last journey had been to one of the farms on the Upper +Hanyards in quest of mistletoe, which grew abundantly there in an ancient +orchard. On getting back he had held a sprig over Jane's head for a +certain familiar and laudable purpose, and had been rewarded with a smack +that sounded like the dropping of an empty milk-pail. A little later I +found him glowering in a cowhouse, and had it out with him. + +"Look here, Joe, my lad," said I, "tell me straight what's the matter +with you or I'll break your head." + +"What d'ye want to come back 'ere for, upsettin' Jin like this'n?" he +blurted. + +"What the blazes have I done to upset Jin?" I asked. + +"Why didna y' bring 'er back wi' ye, then?" + +"Who's her, you jolt-head?" I demanded angrily. + +"That leddy o' yourn. Jin's that upset 'er wunna luk at me, an' we wor +gettin' on fine." + +It was no use talking to Joe. I explained that she was a great lady and +was to marry a marquess, that is a much more important person than an +earl. He knew what an earl was, for of course he had heard of the 'Yurl,' +meaning that old rascal Ridgeley. A marquess, however, was outside his +ken, and the information was wasted. + +"Why didna y' marry 'er y'rsel', Master Noll, and bring 'er back 'ere, +then Jin wud 'a' bin all rate?" + +"I couldn't," said I. + +"Did y' ask 'er?" + +"No." + +"More fule yow," said he bitterly. "She'd 'a' 'ad y', rate enough. Jin +says so, an' 'er knows." + +What could be done with such a silly fellow? I left off discussing and +took him indoors with me. In front of Jane I pledged him in a mug of ale +and told him he was one of the best lads breathing, and I was greatly +beholden to him. In front of him I kissed Jane under the mistletoe and +told her that, bonny lass as she was, she was lucky to have the best lad +in Staffordshire. I left them in the kitchen, and heard no more crashes. +Later on, Joe whistled his three tunes with admirable skill and +intolerable persistency while, under Jane's orders, he took in charge the +boiling of the Christmas puddings in a vast iron pot hung over the kitchen +fire. + +It was growing dark. Everybody was happy. Mother was out and round the +village with her Christmas gifts, attended by one of our men and a cart +packed with good things. Nothing could have made her happier. Jack and +Kate were in the house-place busy with all sorts of housewiferies, in +which he was as interested as she. Joe and Jane were in the kitchen, as +merry as grigs. I went into my own room, across the passage from the +parlour, sacrosanct to me, my books and my belongings. + +There, too, was the great jack, set up to the very life by the skilful +hand of Master Whatcot. He appeared to be cleaving a bunch of reeds to +pounce on a dace, just as he had done once too often on that memorable +day. Brothers of the angle had made pilgrimages to see him from thirty +miles round, and it was an added charm to fancy that the monster had been +caught in a spot where Izaak Walton had fished as a boy, he having been +born and bred in these parts. My jack is a famous jack, for the curious +reader will find an account of him, with his dimensions and catching +weight exactly given, in Master Joshua Spindler's folio volume entitled +"Rudimenta Piscatoria, or the Whole Art of Angling set forth in a Series +of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son," London, 1751. No one who has yet +seen him has seen a bigger, though most of them have heard of one. + +I lit my candles, got my pipe going, and drew my chair near the fire to +read and smoke. It was, however, early days yet for me to read for long. +Moreover, by habit I had picked up my Virgil, and it was as yet impossible +for me to feel the tips of my fingers in the teeth-marks without thinking +of the poor wretch who had made them. I could see in exactest detail his +dead body lying in the road and Swift Nicks beside it, pitching the bag of +guineas up and down in the air, and smiling gleefully and yet wistfully at +me. From that grim event, whether my mind travelled backwards or forwards, +it traversed scenes such as few men are privileged, or fated, to pass +through. + +It was, again, too soon for me to realize the full effect of my +experiences on myself. I was not moody, as in the days aforetime. I +neither loathed my lot nor cursed my destiny. I had seen warfare and +bloodshed, I had had my heart wrung and my nerves racked, and now the +peaceful meadows winding along the river and stretching up to the purple +hills were dear to eyes from which the scales had fallen. This was the +life and labour on which the world was based, and it was worthy of any +man. I had seen Death the Harvester at work, and he was a less alluring +figure than Joe Braggs with a flashing sickle in his hand and a swathe of +golden grain under his arm. + +I should never be really alone again. I had company of which I should +never tire as I sat here with my memories. Margaret was rarely absent from +my mind, and every memory of her was a blessing and an inspiration. I did +not regret my love, foolish and vain as it had been. The thing that really +mattered was that Jack was alive. I could now look back on everything +without bitterness. If Margaret came for me now, to call me forth to +another hard round of struggle and adventure, I should be off with her +like a shot. She had made a splendid companion. She would make a splendid +marchioness. Some day, when the pain would not be unendurable, I would go +to London and steal another peep at those matchless eyes and that tower of +golden, gleaming hair. + +I did not hear the door open, but I heard mother's calm voice, gently +reproving Jane for an unseemly giggle. A pair of arms crept round my neck, +and slim white fingers cupped my chin. Kate did not know that it was I who +had so nearly sent her sweetheart to an untimely grave, for Jack had +sternly forbidden me to mention the subject to anyone, and, as I have +said, it might never have happened so far as he was concerned. Therefore +Kate, always a loving and attentive sister, was now more loving and +attentive than ever because she knew in her heart that, though I had +gained much in my wanderings, I had lost the one thing she had found in +the quiet sickroom where, during long weary months, she had lured Jack +back to life. It was always her task to fetch me from my books and my +thoughts to the beloved circle in the house-place, when, as now, she had +prepared a dish of tea for us. + +The soft resolute hands raised my chin, and I gasped as I looked into +Margaret's eyes. + +She lightly held me down, and, as if we had only parted five minutes +before in the house-place, began to speak, quietly but rapidly. + +"Oliver, do you remember waking me in the barn?" + +I nodded. I was too amazed to speak, and there was that in her eyes which +made me tremble. + +"I was dreaming," she said, and I nodded again and remembered how she had +flushed like the dawn. + +"Because you are the greatest goose of a man that ever lived, I am going +to tell you my dream. I dreamed that you were carrying me across the Pearl +Brook, and as you carried me the brook got wider and wider--you had made +it as wide as you could, you know--until it seemed as if we should never +get across it. And you would not put me down, though I begged you to do +so, but carried me on and on. You grew tired and weary, and your face went +white and drawn, as I find it now, but you would not let me go. Was it not +a curious dream, Oliver?" + +Again I nodded. + +"Why can't you speak, Oliver? Anything would make it less hard. Then, +because you were so weary, and so good to me, and so faithful, and +long-enduring, I did in my dream ... in my dream, you mark ... something +very un-maidenly ... and immediately we were both on the other side; and I +awoke as you put me down at last and found you by my side, having, in your +knightly unselfishness, ruined your hat to give me a drink of milk. And +because you are the best man on earth, and also a blind silly goose, +Oliver, and I must take some risk or lose my all, I am going ... to do the +unmaidenly thing I did in my dream ... and ... you ... must not misjudge +me, Oliver." + +She stopped, smiled as only Margaret can, and bent her head until a loose +coil of amber hair fell on my face Then she brushed it aside and, after a +little gasping cry, kissed me on the lips. + + + +EPILOGUE + +THE LITTLE JACK + + +AT THE HANYARDS STAFFORDSHIRE _August 9th, 1757_ + +Margaret and I had a hot dispute this morning. True she went away, +singing happily, to rebuild the masses of yellow hair that had fallen all +over her shoulders and mine, for the dreadful stuff seems to tumble down +if I look at it, but still we had disputed, and vigorously, too. The plain +fact is she had sniffed at Aristotle. + +The trouble arose out of this story of mine which I have been busy +writing for the last twenty months. It has been hard work, for I was new +to the business, and had to learn how to do it, but it has been a pleasant +task and a labour of love. Now we disputed about it. I said it was +finished. She said it wasn't. I said I ought to know. She replied not +necessarily, since I was such a great goose. Then I loaded my big gun and +thought to blow her clean out of the water. + +"My dear Margaret," said I, "Aristotle lays it down that every work of +art has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning of our story was +the catching of the great jack, the middle of it was the fight at the 'Red +Bull,' and the end of it was the kiss you gave me. You see, dear, how +exactly I have done what Aristotle says I ought to do." + +"Bother Aristotle! What does he know about us?" It was here that she +sniffed, not figuratively but actually. That is to say she held up her +nose, on pretence of looking at me, and audibly ... well, sniffed. There's +no other word for it. Then she cried triumphantly, "What is the use, Noll, +of telling our story and not saying a single word about the most important +people in it?" + +To this question I made no reply. I was beaten. Aristotle, had he been in +my place, would have been beaten too. If we had been in town I would have +run round to Mr. Johnson's and asked him to assist me, but I feel sure he +would have been as helpless as I was. There was no reply, so I contented +myself with playing with her gorgeous hair till it was all a-tumble to the +floor. + +Bother Aristotle! I must do as Margaret bids. + + * * * * * + +The Colonel and Master Freake were in the house-place when, at last, that +memorable Christmas Eve, I proudly took my Margaret there. + +"Sir," said I to the former, before he had ceased his hearty handshake, +"I love Margaret dearly and Margaret loves me. May we be married?" + +"You young dog! What d'ye say to that, John?" he said. + +"Nothing is nearer to my heart," said the great merchant of London, +giving me his hand in turn. + +"Nor to mine, so that settles it," cried the Colonel, fishing out his +snuff-box, while I led Margaret up to mother. + +We spent a happy Christmas as lovers, and were married on New Year's Day +by the vicar. + +Jack and Kate were married in the spring, by which time he was as well +and strong as ever. For years I feared lest his severe wound should have +left some permanent source of weakness, but happily my fears were +ill-founded. Jack, having had enough of soldiering, took to business at +Master Freake's suggestion. He has developed all his father's shrewdness +while retaining all his own boyish charm. He is now Master Freake's right +hand, in the great London house of Freake & Dobson. Kate is Kate still, +ardent, busy, level-headed, and loving, and the happy mother of three +girls and a boy. Jack and I are as twins to one another. + +In the summer after our wedding, Margaret and I went our journey over +again. We saw Cherry-Cheeks, and made sure that Sim should have not only a +good wife but a good business of his own to keep her on. We found out +sweet Nance Lousely, and filled her pinner full of guineas after all, and +left her tearful and happy. We knelt together by a simple grave in the +Catholic burial-ground at Leek, and on the top of Shap we stood, with +tears in our eyes, beside the great stone that marked the resting-place of +Donald and his chief. + +I did become a Parliament man, as Master Faneuil had said I should, and +am a strong supporter of Mr. Pitt. We spend part of each year in London, +where the Marquess is our great friend. He married the nabobess after all, +and she loved him well enough to make it her business to reform him. He +vows she is the finest woman in England, with a head on her shoulders as +good as Mr. Freake's. She makes a good marchioness, too, for she always +had sense, and has developed dignity. + +But most of our time we spend at the Hanyards, which I have made into a +fine house by careful changes. Master Joe Braggs and Mistress Jane Braggs +are our loyal, willing servants and our friends, and are as happy as +sandboys together. They have now quite a large family. + +To-day we are all together again for a long stay at the Hanyards. The +Archdeacon of Lichfield, once our beloved vicar, is with us, simple, +fatherly, and learned as of old. I can see his white head when I lift mine +up from my writing. He is sunning himself in the garden and talking with +mother, who turns her eyes now and again to look at the road, for Kate and +Jack are coming in from Stafford with their children. + +All these are familiar names, but it is fit that the record should be +given before I go back to Margaret's sniff at Aristotle. For while I was +busying myself with her hair, who should come in sight, walking through +the orchard from the river, but the Colonel and Master Freake. They +stopped to join mother and the Archdeacon in their talk, and we, looking +at them, were proud and happy in the knowledge of their love for us. + +Then there was a great clatter and chattering and excited shouting +without. Margaret had left the door of my study open, and in raced the +most important people in our story. They had a tale too big for coherent +talk, and they gabbled away, one after the other or both together, to tell +us all about it. + +It was Oliver who had done it. He held up with a pride that made him +splutter a little jack about fourteen inches long, which he had just +caught. They say he is his father over again. At any rate, he will fish +morning, noon, and night, if he can coax one of us elders to go with him +to take care of him. + +There he stood, the fish dangling at arm's length, telling his mother +exactly how he had done it. I do not pretend to be impartial, but a finer +boy than mine is not to be found. He drops the fish to the floor to rush +into his mother's arms to be kissed and praised. + +I am busy, too; busy as I love best of all to be. For on my knee, her +arms round my neck and her great mane of glorious wheat-coloured hair +tickling my face, is the dearest little creature on God's earth, my other +Margaret. If you want to see me when I am intensely proud and happy, you +must see me with her at my side walking in the Park or down the Green Gate +at Stafford, with all eyes turning on her because of her surpassing +childish beauty. + +"I helped him catch it, daddy," she says, lifting up her face to be kissed. + +So does history repeat itself, and it is settled at once that Noll's jack +is to be put by Master Whatcot in the same case as dad's, for all the +world to know that he is as good a fisherman as his father before him. Joe +is to send it to Stafford at once, and the two rush off eagerly to give it +to him, leaving us alone. + +To the glowing beauty of her maidenhood Margaret has added the serene +beauty of motherhood. That is all the change I can see in her, as I put my +arms round her and draw her to me. + +When she could speak she said happily, "Well done fisherman!" + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Yeoman Adventurer, by George W. Gough + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER *** + +***** This file should be named 7326.txt or 7326.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/3/2/7326/ + +Produced by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Yeoman Adventurer + +Author: George W. Gough + +Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7326] +[This file was first posted on April 14, 2003] +[Most recently updated October 2, 2008] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +The Yeoman Adventurer + +By George Gough + + + +To + +A. D. Steel-Maitland, M.P. + +In Gratitude and Admiration + + + +CONTENTS + + +I. THE GREAT JACK + +II. THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS + +III. MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE + +IV. OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES + +V. THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE + +VI. MY LORD BROCTON + +VII. THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL + +VIII. THE CONJURER'S CAP + +IX. MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN + +X. SULTAN + +XI. IN WHICH I SLIP + +XII. THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN" + +XIII. PHARAOH'S KINE + +XIV. "WAR HAS ITS RISKS" + +XV. IN THE MOORLANDS + +XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE + +XVII. MY NEW HAT + +XVIII. THE DOUBLE SIX + +XIX. WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY + +XX. THE COUNCIL AT DERBY + +XXI. MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST + +XXII. A BROTHER OF THE LAMP + +XXIII. DONALD + +XXIV. MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT + +XXV. I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON + +XXVI. THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN + +EPILOGUE: THE LITTLE JACK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GREAT JACK + + +Our Kate, Joe Braggs, and I all had a hand in the beginning, and as great +results grew in the end out of the small events of that December morning, +I will set them down in order. + +It began by my refusing point-blank to take Kate to the vicar's to watch +the soldiers march by. I loved the vicar, the grave, sweet, childless old +man who had been a second father to me since the sad day which made my +mother a widow, and but for the soldiers nothing would have been more +agreeable than to spend the afternoon with the old man and his books. But +my heart would surely have broken had I gone. A caged linnet is a sorry +enough sight in a withdrawing-room, but hang the cage on a tree in a +sunlit garden, with free birds twittering and flitting about it, and you +turn dull pain into shattering agony. The vicar's little study, with the +rows of books he had made me know and love with some small measure of his +own learning and passion, was the perch and seed-bowl of my cage, the +things in it, after my sweet mother and saucy Kate, that made life +possible, but still part of the cage, and it would have maddened me to hop +and twitter there in sight of free men with arms in their hands and +careers in front of them. Jack Dobson would march by, the sweetness of +life for Kate--little dreamed she that I knew it--but for me the +bitterness of death. Jack Dobson! I liked Jack, but not clinquant in +crimson and gold, with spurs and sword clanking on the hard, frost-bitten +road. I laughed at the idea; Jack Dobson, whom I had fought time and time +again at school until I could lick him as easily as I could look at him; +Jack Dobson, a jolly enough lad, who fought cheerily even when he knew a +sound thrashing was in store for him, but all his brains were good for was +to stumble through _Arma virumque cano_, and then whisper, "Noll, you +can fire a gun and shoot a man, but how can you sing 'em?" And because his +thin, shadowy, grasping father was a man of much outward substance and +burgess for the ancient borough, Jack was cornet in my Lord Brocton's +newly raised regiment of dragoons, this day marching with other of the +Duke of Cumberland's troops from Lichfield to Stafford. And for me, the +pride of old Bloggs for Latin and of all the lads for fighting, the most +stirring deed of arms available was shooting rabbits. So, consuming +inwardly with thoughts of my hard fate, I refused to go to the vicar's. +Mother should go. For her it would be a real treat, and Kate would be the +better under her quiet, seeing eyes. + +"Well then," said Kate, "grump at home over your beastly Virgil." Mother, +who understood as only mothers can, said nothing, and prepared my +favourite dishes for dinner. + +The meal over, and the house-place 'tidied,' which seldom meant more than +the harassing of a few stray specks of dust, Kate in her best fripperies +and mother in her churchgoing gown started for the vicar's. I stood in the +porch and watched them across the cobbled yard and along the road till +they dropped out of sight beyond the bridge. + +Then Kate's share of these introductory events became manifest. Search +high, search low, there was no sign of my dear, dumpy Virgil, in yellowing +parchment with red edges. I found Kate's cookery-book, and would have +flung it through the window, but my eye caught the quaint inscription on +the fly-leaf, in her big, pot-hooky handwriting: + + "KATHERINE WHEATMAN, her book, + God give her grease to larn to cook. + + At the Hanyards. + Jul. 1739." + +The simple words stung me like angry hornets. Our red-headed Kate was no +scholar, but at any rate her reading was more useful in our little world +than mine; for this was where she learned the artistry of the dainties and +devices Jack Dobson and I were so fond of. And if I did not soon learn to +do something well, even were it only how to farm my five hundred acres to +a profit, Kate's cooking would really require the miraculous aid suggested +in her unintentional and, to me, biting epigram. I put the book down, and +gave over the hunt for my Virgil. It would probably be useless in any +case, since Kate had a cunning all her own, and had surely bestowed it far +beyond any searching of mine. I contented myself with a fair reprisal, +stowing a stray ribbon of hers in my breeches' pocket, and sat down to +smoke. My pipe would not draw, and I smashed it in trying to make it. + +The tall oak clock tick-tocked on in the house-place, and Jane sang on at +her churning in the dairy across the yard. I sat gazing at the fire, where +I could see nothing but Jack Dobson in his martial grandeur, and I hated +him for his greatness, and despised myself for my pettiness. All the same +it was unendurable, and it was a relief to see Joe Braggs tiptoeing +carefully across the yard dairywards. The rascal should have been patching +a gap in the hedge of Ten-acres, and here he was, foraging for a jug of +ale. He could wheedle Jane as easily as he could snare a rabbit, but I +would scarify him out of his five senses, the hulk. + +The singing stopped, and then the churning, and five minutes later I +crept up to the kitchen door, which was ajar. There was my lord Joe, a jug +of ale in hand, his free arm round Jane's neck. How endurable these two +found life at the Hanyards! I caught a fragment of their gossip. + +"Be there such things as rale quanes, Jin?" + +"Of course," she replied. "There's pictures of 'em in one of Master +Noll's books. Crowns on their yeds, too." + +"There's one on 'em down 'tour house, Jin, but she ain't got no crown. +But bless thee, wench, I'd sooner kiss thee than look at fifty quanes." + +Jane yelped as I murdered an incipient kiss by knocking the jug out of +his hand across the kitchen, but in kicking him out of doors I tripped +over a bucket of water, and about half a score fine dace flopped miserably +on the wet floor. + +"Dunna carry on a' that'n, Master Noll," said Joe. "I only com' up t'ouse +to bring you them daceys." + +"And what the devil do I want with them?" said I angrily. + +Joe knew me. He said, "There's a jack as big as a gate-post in that 'ole +between the reeds along th' 'igh bonk." + +He saw the cock of my eye, and went on: "I saw 'im this mornin', an' +'eard 'im. 'E made a splosh like a sack o' taters droppin' off the bridge. +So I just copped 'e a few daceys, thinkin' as you'd be sure to go after +'im." + +"Put them in some fresh water, Joe, and you, Jane, fill him another jug. +I'll own up to Mistress Kate for smashing the other." + +I fetched my rod and tackle, picked up the bucket of dace, and set off +across the fields to the river. The bank nearer the house, and about three +hundred yards from it, stood from two to six feet above the water, being +lowest where a brick bridge carried the road to the village. The opposite +bank was very low, and was fringed in summer with great masses of reeds +and bulrushes, now withered down nearly to nothing, but still showing the +pocket of deep water where the jack had "sploshed like a sack o' taters." +It was opposite the highest part of our bank--the Hanyards was bounded by +the river in this direction--and the bridge was about one hundred yards +down-stream to my left. In a few minutes a fine dace was swimming in the +gap as merrily as the tackle would let him. + +For an hour or more I took short turns up and down the bank, just far +enough from the edge to keep my cork in view. If the jack was there, he +made no sign, and at length my sportsman's eagerness began to flag, and my +eye roamed across the meadows to the church spire, under the shadow of +which life as I could never know it was lilting merrily northwards. Here I +was and here I should remain, like a cabbage, till Death pulled me up by +the roots. + +Worthy Master Walton says that angling is the contemplative man's +recreation, and, having had in these later years much to con over in my +mind, I know that he is right. But it is no occupation for a fuming man, +and as I marched up and down I forgot all about my cork, till, with a +short laugh that had the tail of a curse in it, I noted that a real gaff +was a silly weapon with which to cut down an imaginary Highlander, and +turned again to my angling. + +And at that very moment a thing happened the like of which I had never +seen before, and have not since seen in another ten years of fishing. My +rod was jerked clean off the bank, and careered away down-stream so fast +that I had to run hard to get level with it. Here was work indeed, and at +that joyous moment I would not have changed places with Jack Dobson. +Without ado, I jumped into the river, waded out, recovered the butt of my +rod, and struck. + +"As big as a gate-post." Joe was right. As I struck, the jack came to the +surface. The great stretch of yellow belly and the monstrous length of +vicious snout made my heart leap for joy. I would rather land him than +command a regiment. My rod bent to a sickle as I fought him, giving him +line and pulling in, again, again, and again. A dozen times I saw the +black bars on his shimmering back as he came at me, evil in his red-rimmed +eyes and danger in his cruel teeth, but the stout tackle stood it out. +Sweat poured off my forehead though I was up to the waist in ice-cold +water. Inch by inch I fought my way to the bank, and then fought on again +to get close to the bridge, where I could scramble out. + +Probably I was half an hour in getting him there, but at last, by giving +him suddenly a dozen yards of loose line to go at, I was able to climb on +to the bank and check him before he got across to the stumps of the reeds. +But here I met with disaster, for in climbing up I jerked the hook of my +gaff out of my collar, where I had put it for safety, and it fell into the +stream. + +"Stick to the fish," said some one behind me, "and leave the hook to me." + +"Thanks," said I briefly, for I was scant of breath, and continued the +struggle. + +A woman knelt on the bank, pulled the gaff in with a riding whip, plunged +down a shapely hand and recovered it. Then she stood behind me, watching +the fight. The jack, big and strong as he was, began to tire, and soon I +had him making short, sharp spurts in the shallow water at our feet. + +My new ally stood quietly on the bank, holding the gaff ready for the +right moment. It came: a deft movement, a good pull together, and the +great jack curled and bounced on the bank. + +"Over thirty pounds if he's an ounce!" I cried gleefully. + +"Well done, fisherman!" she said. "It was a splendid sight. I've watched +you all along. When you jumped into the river, I thought you were going to +drown yourself. You had been walking up and down in a most desperate and +dejected fashion." + +The raillery gave me courage to look into her eyes. I wondered if they +were black, but decided that they were not, since her hair was the colour +of wheat when it is ripening for the sickle and the summer sun falls on it +at eve. And I, who am six feet in my socks, had hardly to lower my eyes to +look into hers. Her face was beautiful beyond all imagining of mine. I had +conjured up visions of Dido enthralled of Aeneas, of Cleopatra bending +Antony to her whim. But the conscious art of my day-dreams had wrought no +such marvel as here I saw in very flesh before me. I felt as one who +drinks deep of some rich and rare vintage, and wonders why the gods have +blessed him so. And further, as small things jostle big things in the +mind, I knew that this was the real queen that had dazzled Joe Braggs. + +"What do you call it?" she said, looking down at the fish. + +"A jack, or pike, madam." + +"'The tyrant of the watery plains,' as Mr. Pope calls him. You've heard +of Mr. Pope, the poet?" She spoke as if 'No' was the inevitable answer. + +"Strictly speaking, no, madam," said I gravely, "but I have read his +so-called poems." She frowned. "Horace calls the jack," I continued, +"_lupus_, the wolf-fish, as one may say, and a very good name too. +Doubtless madam has heard of Horace." + +My quip brought a glint into her eyes and a richer colour to her cheek. +"Yes, heard of him," she said, with a trace of chagrin in her voice. "And +now, O Nimrod of the watery plains, how far is it to the village smithy?" + +"Just under a mile, madam." + +"And how long does it take to shoe a horse?" + +"How many shoes, madam?" + +Again the glint in her eyes, and this time I saw some of the blue in +them. "One, sir," she said shortly. + +"Ten to fifteen minutes, madam." + +"He's a very long time," she said under her breath. + +"The smith is probably very busy to-day." + +"Busy! Why so?" + +"The dragoons may have found him much work," said I, merely my way of +explaining the delay. But the words stabbed her. She laid a hand on my arm +and cried gaspingly, "Dragoons! What do you mean? Quick!" + +"The Duke of Cumberland is marching north from Lichfield against the +Stuart, and Lord Brocton's dragoons are in the village." + +"Brocton! O God! Brocton! My father is taken! And by Brocton!" She spoke +aloud in her agitation, and I saw that she was cut to the quick. And I +rejoiced, so strange is the human heart, that it was Lord Brocton's name +that came in anguish off her tongue. Oh for one blow at the man whose +father had harried mine into an untimely grave! + +In sharp, frosty air sound travels far across the meadows of the +Hanyards. The hills that hem the valley to the west perhaps act as a +sounding board. Anyhow, further inquiry as to her trouble was stopped by +the rattle of distant hoofs. We were standing now less than a dozen paces +from the bridge. A straggling hedge, on a low bank, crossed flush up to +the bridge by a stile, cut the field off from the road. I rushed to the +stile, and cautiously pushed my head through near the ground. Half a mile +of level road stretched to my right towards the village, and along it, and +now less than six hundred yards away, a squad of dragoons was galloping +towards us. The hedge was thin and leafless, and there was not cover +enough for a rabbit. I ran back. "Dragoons," said I. + +"After me," she replied carelessly, and I saw that danger for herself +left her cold. + +I kicked the great jack motionless, flung him to the foot of the bank +under the hedge, and the rod after him, hurried her up to the stile, +leaped into the water, took her in my arms, and carried her under the +bridge. In less than a minute after I stopped wading, the dragoons +clattered overhead. + +Not an hour ago I had been aching for life and adventures, and here I +was, up to the loins in water, with a goddess in my arms. Her right arm +was round my neck, and her cheek so near that I felt her sweet, warm +breath fanning my own. As the sounds died away, I turned and looked at her +face, and I had my reward. Her eyes told me that she thanked and trusted +me. + +"Well done, fisherman!" she said for the second time. + +"You're heavier than the jack," replied I, hitching her as far from the +water as possible before wading back. A minute later I put her down on the +bank with tumbled, yellow hair and face flaming red. I examined her +critically, and cried triumphantly, "Not a stitch wet!" + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS + + +I threw the jack across my shoulder and we started for the Hanyards. +Madam offered no explanations, and I made no inquiries. It was obvious to +me that the dragoons had gone on to the little hedge ale-house, a good, +long mile away, where the road from the village struck into a roundabout +road to Stafford. Here, in the "Bull and Mouth," Mother Braggs ruled by +day and Master Joe by night, and here beyond a doubt the stranger lady had +tarried while her father had gone on with the horses to the nearest smithy +at Milford. + +There was ample time to get to the Hanyards, but still, for safety's +sake, we kept behind hedges as far as possible. She walked ahead, and I +followed behind, water oozing out of my boots and breeches at every step, +and the jack's tail flopping against my legs. Never had I gone home from +fishing with such prizes. What pleased me most was her silence. It matched +the trust in her eyes. Except for brief instructions as to the direction, +no word passed until we gained the Hanyards from the rear, and I led her +into the house-place unobserved by anyone. + +"There is little time to talk," I began. "The dragoons are certain to +come here, as this is the only house between the inn and the village. Your +father is, you fear, a prisoner, and indeed it seems the only explanation +of his absence. I do not ask why. I gather that there is no purpose to be +served by your sharing his fate." + +"Free, I may be able to help him. A prisoner, I should...." She stopped, +hesitating. + +"My Lord Brocton?" said I interrogatively. For the second time her face +burned, and I saw in it shame and distress and fear. My lord was piling up +a second account with me, and for humbling this proud beauty he should one +day pay the price in full. + +But it was time to act. I ran to the porch and roared out, "Jane! Jane! +Where are you? Come here quick!" + +Jane came running in from the kitchen. She stopped dead with surprise +when she saw my companion, and could not even cackle on about the jack. + +"Now, Jane, do exactly what I say. Take this lady upstairs and dress her +as nearly like yourself as you can. It's good you are much of a height. +Pack her own clothes carefully out of sight. Off, quick!" + +They disappeared upstairs, and I watched the yard gate with eager eyes. +No dragoons appeared, and in a short time madam and Jane were back in the +house-place. Jane had done her work well. The great lady was now a fine +country serving-wench, her shapeliness obscured in a homespun gown that +fitted only where it touched, her feet in huge, rough boots, her yellow +hair plastered back off her forehead and bunched into one of Jane's +'granny caps,' and indeed totally hidden by the large flap thereof, which +in Jane's case served the purpose of "keepin' the draf out'n 'er +neck-hole" when she was at work in the dairy. For my share of disguising, +I now rubbed together some ruddle and dry soil, and the mixture gave a +necessary touch of coarseness to her hands. Altogether she was changed out +of recognition, even if, which was not the case, any of her pursuers had +seen her previously. + +"Jane," said I, "her name is Molly Brown. She has served here two years. +Her mother lives at Colwich. Have you both got that?" + +"Molly Brown--two years--mother at Colwich," said madam with a smile, and +Jane repeated it after her. + +"Now, Molly," said I, with an answering smile, "Jane will start you +churning. It's an easy job. You just turn a handle till the butter comes. +Do not flatter yourself that you'll get any butter, but I'll forgive you +that. And, having learned from Jane how to pretend to do it, you need not +churn in earnest till the dragoons ride into the yard. Listen to Jane, and +you, Jane, for the next ten minutes, teach the lady how to talk +Staffordshire fashion." + +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said Jane, who was plainly bursting with the +importance of her task. + +"First lesson, madam," said I. "'Rate y'are,' not 'Right you are!' It was +not Mr. Pope's manner of speech, but it will suit your circumstances +better. Off to the dairy, and leave the dragoons to me!" + +"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said madam, and, our anxieties +notwithstanding, we both joined in Jane's rattle of laughter. + +They went off to the dairy, and I began my own preparations. I displayed +the great jack in full view on the table, forestalling Kate's housewifely +objections by disposing him on an old coat of mine, so that he should not +mess the table. In the house-place he looked much finer and longer than in +the open air, and I gloated over him as he lay there. I longed to change +my clothes, not so much for comfort's sake as to cut a better figure in +her eyes; but I dared not run the risk of not being at hand when the +dragoons arrived. I drew a quart jug of ale, threw most of it away, got +down a horn drinking-cup, drank a little, spilled some down my clothes, +slopped some on the table, made up the fire, and sat down to wait. It was +now about half-past three, the straw-coloured sun was perching on the +hill-tops, and darkness would soon be drawing on apace. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour I sat there, living over again the +precious minutes under the bridge, when the clatter of hoofs awakened me +to the realities of the situation. Peeping cautiously past the edge of the +blind, I saw the dragoons--there were six of them--ride up to the gate. +Sharp orders rang out, and three of the men dismounted, including him who +had given the orders, and came up the yard. One stayed at the gate to mind +the horses, and the other two trotted off on the scout round the fields +near the farm. + +I slipped back to my chair, and let my chin drop on my chest, as if I +were dozing in drink. + +Some one said at the porch door, "In the King's name!" I took no notice, +and they crowded, jingling and noisy, into the porch. Again sharp commands +were given; the two men grounded their arms with a clang on the stone +floor of the porch, and waited there. The man in command stepped forward +into the firelight and said crisply, "In the King's name!" + +It was idle to pretend any longer. I raised my head and blinked drunkenly +at him. Then I filled the horn, sang thickly and with beery gusto, "Here's +a health unto His Majesty," and said, "Fill up and drink, whoever you are, +and shut the door. It's damned cold." + +He had little, red, ferrety eyes, and they looked fiercely at me +--fiercely but not suspiciously, I thought. He waved my hospitality +aside, and said, "You are Oliver Wheatman?" + +"Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, Esquire, at His Majesty's service to +command," I replied with great gravity, and filled another horn of ale. I +might pretend to be drunk, but I could not, unfortunately, pretend to +drink, and it was strongish ale. He made a motion to stop me--welcome +proof that he believed me tipsy in fact--and said, "Master Wheatman, the +less drunken you are, the better you will answer my questions." + +"Sir," said I, draining off the horn, "I can drink and talk with any man +living, and, drunk or sober, I only answer the questions of my friends. So +get a horn off the dresser--I'm a bit tired--fill up, and tell me what you +want. D'you happen to be of my Lord Brocton's regiment?" + +"I am." + +"Then you'll be as drunk as me before you've finished with the Hanyards. +Our ale goes to the head most damnably quick, let me tell you. You tell my +dear old butty, the worshipful Master Jack Dobson, that I've caught a jack +half as thick and more than half as long as himself. Here it be. Fetch a +horn, I tell you, and drink to me and the two jacks--Jack Dobson and this +jack beauty here." + +He was getting no nearer to the object of his visit, and, perhaps +thinking it would be well to humour me, he fetched a horn and tried our +Hanyards ale. This gave me a chance of taking stock of him. + +He was a thin, wiry man of middle height and middle age. Such a face I +had never seen. The first sight of it made me suck in my breath as if I +had touched the edge of a razor. The bridge half of his nose had gone, or +he had never had it, and the lower half was stuck like a dab of putty +midway between mouth and eyebrows. His little, beady eyes were set in +large, shallow sockets, giving him an owl-like appearance. A mouth +originally large enough, and thickly lipped like a negro's, had been +extended, as it seemed, to his left ear by a savage sword slash which had +healed very badly. He had an air of mean, perky intelligence, as of one of +low rank and no breeding who had for many years been accustomed to cringe +to the great and domineer over smaller fry than himself. Some sort of +military rank he had, judging by his stained and frayed but once gaudy +jacket. He carried a tuck of unusual length, stretching along his left +side from heel to armpit, and a couple of pistols were stuck in his belt. + +He put down the horn, smacked his lips, and began: + +"Master Wheatman, I am searching for a Jacobite spy--a woman. We took her +father up at the 'Barley Mow,' and I learned from a man of yours that the +daughter was at his mother's ale-house down the road. She is not there, +and left to walk to meet her father, she said. She has certainly not done +that, and I have called to see if she is hiding here or hereabouts." + +"By gad, we'll nab her if she is," said I heartily. "She's not been +through that gate in the last half-hour, for it takes me that to drink yon +jug dry, and I started with it full. But I'll ask the maids. Mother and +our Kate are at the parson's yonder, gaping at you chaps. I dare say you +saw them." + +"No," said he doubtingly. + +One of the men stepped out of the porch, saluted, and, being bidden to +speak, informed his officer that he had seen Lord Brocton and Mr. Cornet +Dobson talking to two ladies. + +"That'd be they," I said, and going with unsteady steps to the door, I +vigorously shouted, "Jin, Moll, Jin, Moll, come here! They're in the +dairy," I added by way of explanation. + +The crucial moment came. Jane and 'Moll' scurried across the yard like +rabbits, but stopped at the porch door with well-simulated surprise at the +sight of the dragoons. + +"Gom, I thawt 'e'd set the house a-fire," said Jane thankfully, +addressing the company at large, and she bravely bustled through and +shrilled at me, "At it again, when your mother's out; y'd better get off +to bed afore she comes in. She'll drunk yer." + +Jane's acting was so much better than mine that I nearly lost my head at +being thus crudely accused before 'Moll,' but she went on remorselessly, +addressing the dragoon, "Dunna upset him for God's sake, Master Squaddy. +'E'm a hell-hound when 'e'm gotten a sup of beer in'im." + +"Don't trouble, my good girl. I'm used to his sort. Leave him to me and +answer my questions. The truth or the jail, my girl." + +"Yow," sniffed Jane, "he'd snap yow in two like a carrot. Bed's best +place for 'im. He's as wet as thatch with his silly jacking." + +"Jane," said I, "never mind me. I'm neither dry enough nor drunk enough +to go to bed yet. Captain here wants to ask you and Moll some questions. +Stop clacking at me like a hen at a weasel and listen to him." + +Jane went through the ordeal easily, appealing to 'Moll' for verification +at every turn, and so cleverly that the latter appeared to be as much +under examination as herself. Moreover, Jane stood square in the +firelight, but so as to keep 'Moll' shouldered behind the chimney in +comparative gloom. They'd been churning all afternoon, the butter was +there to be seen, stacks of it; nobody had been in or near the yard; the +gate had never clicked once, and nobody could open it without being heard +in the dairy. She overwhelmed the dragoon with her demonstrations of the +impossibility of anybody coming up the yard without her or 'Moll' knowing +it. + +"That's all right, Jane," said I, at length. "But she could easily have +got into the house or into the stables without you or Moll seeing her. +Let's all have a look for her. Unless she's small enough to creep into a +rat-hole, we'll soon find her." + +Sergeant Radford--to give him his name and rank, which I learned later +from Jack Dobson--agreed to this, and in my joy at knowing that the ordeal +was over, I was on the point of forgetting that I was drunk till I caught +the clear eyes of madam fixed in warning on me. Jane acted as leader to +the two dragoons in overhauling the barns and stabling, while 'Moll,' the +sergeant, and I searched the house as closely as if we were looking for a +lost guinea. Of course our efforts were futile, slow as we were so as not +to outpace my drunken footsteps, and careful as we were so as to satisfy +the keen eyes of the sergeant, who was very evidently on no new job so far +as he was concerned. 'Moll' too seemed jealous of Jane's laurels, and went +thoroughly into the business. She and the serjeant peeped together under +beds and into closets, and she laughed brazenly at certain not very +obscure hints of his as to the great services I should render to the +search-party if I kept my eye on the house-place. She even said, "Master +Noll, don't 'e think as 'ow th' ale be gettin' flat downstairs? It wunna +be wuth drinkin' if y'ain't sharp." + +The result was, that in about half an hour a thoroughly satisfied and +rather tired assembly filled the house-place, for the two scouts rode up +to the porch with the news that they, too, had found no trace of the +fugitive. With the sergeant's leave I sent the five dragoons into the +kitchen with the two maids to have a jug of ale apiece, while he stayed +with me in the house-place, to crack a bottle of wine. + +I hoped, but in vain, that he would tell me news of the stranger's +father, but he was too wary for that, and I did not dare to ask him. He +made close inquiries as to the lie of the land hereabouts, and I pointed +out that there was a field-path leading plainly to the village from the +other side of the bridge and coming out at an obscure stile at the back of +the "Barley Mow." The spy might have taken that and become alarmed. She +could then avoid the village by another plain path, and so get ahead of +the troops on the Stafford road. + +"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?" + +"Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to +find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!" + +"Ah!" + +"There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old +sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your +eyes on those big houses in the East Gate. As for me, look at that back +and breast and good broad-sword there. Damn me if I don't rub 'em up and +come and have a ding with 'em at these rebels. On Naseby Field they were, +Captain, long before your time and mine, but they did good work against +these same bloody Stuarts. Crack t'other bottle, there's a good fellow. +I'm dry with talking and wet with fishing, and it'll do me good." + +I pressed him to stay and 'have a good set to,' but he refused, and after +drinking enough to keep me dizzy for a week, he nipped out and ordered his +men to horse. I walked to the gate with him. He thanked me for my help and +good cheer, and said it was quite clear that the spy was nowhere in or +near the Hanyards. I renewed my greetings to Cornet Dobson and even sent +my respects to his lordship. Off they rode, and it was with a thankful +heart that, remembering my happy condition in time, I stumbled back up the +yard to the house-place, where madam and beaming Jane were awaiting me. + + + +CHAPTER III + +MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE + + +Jane had taken the lady back to the house-place and was hovering around +her, with little of the grace of a maid-of-honour to be sure, but with a +heartiness and zeal that more than atoned for any lack of style. From +mother's withdrawing-room I fetched our chief household god, a small +ancient silver goblet, and, filling it with wine, offered it to the +stranger with what I supposed, no doubt wrongly, to be a modish bow. She +drank a little, and then, at my urging, a little more. + +"Madam," I said, "I think you do not need to be 'Molly Brown' any longer. +Yon dragooner is quite certain that you are not here, and we can safely +take advantage of his opinion. As for you, Jane, you've done splendidly, +and I heartily thank you." I re-filled the goblet and handed it to Jane, +saying, "Drink, Jane, to madam's good luck." + +The honest girl blushed with joy at my words, and as for drinking wine +out of the famous silver goblet of the Hanyards--such a distinction, as she +conceived it, was reward enough for anything. + +"Thanks are payment all too poor for what you have done, sir," said +madam, "and any words of mine would make them poorer still. But, sir, I do +thank you most heartily. And you, too, Jane, have done me splendid +service. You are as brave and clever as you are bonny and pretty." + +"Madam," said I, bowing low, "you are too kind to my services, which +have, indeed, been rather crudely performed." + +"Not so," she replied, "but with shrewd, ready wit and certain judgment. +I cannot imagine myself in a tighter corner than at the bridge, and your +device had the effective simplicity of genius. Your plan here was, to be +sure, commonplace, but it, too, required caution and good acting, and you +and Jane supplied both. It was nicer than popping me into some musty +priest's hole, though I expect this ancient building has one." + +I looked at the wall as half expecting the sword of Captain +Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman to rattle to the ground under this awful +insinuation. + +"The only use our family has found for priests, madam," I said, "has +been, I fear, to hunt them like vermin. As a Wheatman of the Hanyards, I'm +afraid I'm a degenerate." + +"You'll not even be that much longer if I keep you from getting into some +dry clothes. And, if Jane is willing, I will make myself myself. I would +fain be on." + +With a sweet smile and a gracious curtsy, she followed the ready Jane +upstairs. + +I removed all traces of what had taken place, and carried my precious +jack into the pantry, where I hung him in safety. He should be set up by +Master Whatcot of Stafford as a trophy and memento in honour of this great +day. I then hurried off to my room to attend to my own appearance, and +indeed I needed it, for I was caked with mud up to my knees and soaking +wet up to my waist. For the first time in my life I was grieved to the +bone at the inadequacy of my wardrobe, and even when I had donned my +Sunday best my appearance was undoubtedly villainous from the London point +of view. I feathered myself as finely as my resources permitted, but it +was a homely, uncouth yeoman that raced downstairs and awaited her coming. +I drew the curtains, lit the candles, kicked the fire into a blaze, and +built it up with fresh logs. + +It would be impossible for me to set down the hubbub of thoughts and +ideas that filled my mind. I had been plunged into a new world, and +floundered about in it pretty hopelessly, I can tell you. The days of +knight-errantry had come over again, and chance, mightier even than King +Arthur, had commanded me to serve a sweet lady in distress. But I had had +no training, no preliminary squireship, in which I could learn how things +were done by watching brave and accomplished knights do them. I had lived +among the parts of speech, not among the facts of life. I could hit a bird +on the wing, snare a rabbit, ride like a saddle, angle for jack and trout, +strike like a sledge-hammer, swim like a fish--and that was all. I knew, +too, every turn and track and tree for miles round; and that might be +something now, and indeed, as will be seen, turned out my most precious +accomplishment. Some people said I was as proud as Lucifer, others that I +was as meek as a mouse, and I once overheard our Kate tell Priscilla +Dobson, Jack's vinegary sister, that both were right--which confounded me, +for our 'Copper Nob,' as I used to call her, was a shrewd little woman. +Still, such as I was, the stranger lady should have me, an she would, as +her squire, to the last breath in my body. Only let me get out of my +cabbage-bed, only give me a man's work to do, and I would ask for no more. +Neither for love nor for liking would I crave, but just for the work and +the joy of it. + +The yard gate clicked, and a moment later mother and Kate came in. + +"Oh, Noll, it's been grand!" burst out Kate. "I wish you'd been there. +There were hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers, horse and foot, and guns +and wagons without end. Lord Brocton was there, and Sir Ralph Sneyd, who +is just a duck, and a nasty-looking major with his face all over blotches. +And they saw us, and crowded into the vicar's to talk to us." + +"And what about Jack Dobson?" + +"Oh, Oliver, what have you got your best clothes on for?" + +"Because I got wet through catching a great jack. But never mind my best +clothes. How did Jack look in his uniform?" + +"A lot better than Lord Brocton, or anyone else there, if you must know," +she said, jerking the words at me, with her cheeks near the colour of her +hair. + +"Can he talk sense yet?" + +"He talked like the modest gentleman he is," said my mother, "and looked +nearly as handsome as my own boy. He sent his loving greetings to you, and +would fain have come to see you but his duties would not allow of it." + +Of course my gibes at Jack were all purely foolish and jealous, and, +moreover, I could now afford to be truthful; so I said, "If Jack doesn't +do better, as well as look better, than my Lord Brocton, I'll thrash him +soundly when he gets back. But he will. He's a rare one is Master Jack, +and by a long chalk the pluckiest soul, boy or man, I've ever come across. +And he'll learn sense, of the sort he wants, as fast as anybody when the +time comes." + +"Of course the lad will," said mother, taking off her long cloak, and +Kate, when mother turned to hang it on its accustomed hook, gave a swift +peck at my cheek with her lips, and whispered, "You dear old Noll!" + +All this time I had been listening with strained ears for footsteps on +the stairs. Now I heard them, and waited anxiously. The door opened, and +Jane came in, upright and important. She curtsyed to my mother, announced, +"Mistress Margaret Waynflete," and my goddess came into the room. + +Straight up to my mother she walked,--a poor word to describe her sweet +and stately motion, _et vera incessu patuit dea_, as the master has +it,--curtsied low and nobly to her and said, "Mistress Wheatman, I am a +stranger in distress, and should have been in danger but for your son, who +has served me and saved me as only a brave and courteous gentleman could." + +I had ever loved my mother dearly, but I loved her proudly now, for the +greatest dame in the land could not have done better than this sweet, +simple mother of mine. Without surprise or hesitation, she took Mistress +Waynflete's hands in her own, and said, "Dear lady, anyone in distress is +welcome here, and Oliver has done just as I would have him do. And this is +my daughter, Kate, who will share our anxiety to help you." + +And then I was proud of our Kate, Kate with the red hair and the +milk-white face, the saucy eye and the shrewd tongue, Kate with the +tradesman's head and the heart of gold. She shook madam warmly by the +hand, and led her to my great arm-chair in the ingle-nook as to a throne +that was hers of right. + +Thus was Mistress Waynflete made welcome to the Hanyards. + +Mother and Kate took their accustomed seats on the cosy settle beside the +hearth. I sat on a three-legged stool in front of the fire, and Jane +flitted about as quietly as a bat, laying the table for our evening meal. + +Never had the house-place at the Hanyards looked so fair. The firelight +danced on the black oak wainscot which age and polishing had made like +unto ebony, and the row of pewter plates on the top shelf of the dresser +glimmered in their obscurity like a row of moons. Our special pride, a +spice-cupboard of solid mahogany, ages old, glowed red across the room, +and from the neighbouring wall the great sword and back-and-breast with +which Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, Captain of Horse, had done service at +Naseby, seemed to twinkle congratulations to me as one not unworthy of my +name. Not an unsuitable frame, perhaps, this ancient, goodly house-place, +for the beautiful picture now in it, on which I looked as often as I dared +with furtive eyes of admiration. + +She told her story with simple directness. Her father's name was +Christopher Waynflete, a soldier by profession, who had seen service in +many parts of the Continent and had attained the rank of Colonel in the +Swedish army. Her mother she had never known, for she had died when +Mistress Margaret was but a few months old, and her father had maintained +an unbroken reticence on the subject. Some six months ago, Colonel +Waynflete had returned to England to settle, desiring to obtain some +military employment, a plan which his long service and professional +knowledge seemed to make feasible. In London he made the acquaintance of +the Earl of Ridgeley, to whom, indeed, he bore a letter of introduction +from a Swedish diplomat in Paris. Through the Earl he had met Lord +Brocton, the Earl's only son and heir. The Colonel's hope of employment in +the army had not been realized, and this and certain other reasons, which +she did not specify, had embittered him against the Government. Not having +any real allegiance to King George, whom he had never served, and who now +refused his services, he easily entered into the plans of certain +influential Jacobites in London whose acquaintance he had made. Three days +previously he had set out from London to join Prince Charles. For certain +reasons (again she did not give details) she was unwilling to be separated +from her father, at any rate not until circumstances made it necessary for +them to part, and then the plan was that she should go to Chester, with +which city she was inclined to think her father had some old connexion, +and stay there with the wife of a certain cathedral dignitary of secret +but strong Jacobite inclinations. Colonel Waynflete's connexion with the +Jacobite cause had, naturally, been kept secret, but she was almost +certain that Lord Brocton had discovered it through a certain spy and +toady of his, one Major Tixall. + +"Pimples all over his face?" broke in Kate. + +"Yes," said Mistress Waynflete, with a little shudder. + +"He was in the village this afternoon with Lord Brocton," returned Kate. + +"Peace, dear one," said mother, "our turn is coming. Be as quiet as +Oliver." + +"Oliver, mother dear, hasn't seen Major Tixall, whose face is enough to +make an owl talk, let alone a magpie like me." + +Her right ear was near enough to me, the stool being big and I bigger, so +I pinched the pretty little pink shell, and whispered in it, "Shut up, +Kit, and think of Jack," which effectually silenced her. + +Mistress Waynflete had little more to tell. They had travelled rapidly, +avoiding Coventry and Lichfield, where the royal forces had assembled, but +bending west so as to get by unfrequented roads to Stafford, and so on to +the main north road along which the Prince was now reported to be +marching. Just outride the "Bull and Mouth" her horse had cast a shoe. +Leaving her to rest in the ale-house, the Colonel had gone on with the +horses to the nearest smithy at Milford. He was quite unaware of the +northward movement of troops from Lichfield, and was under the impression +that he was now well beyond the danger zone. We had heard from the +serjeant of his capture. + +Kate, at mother's request, took up the tale here. The road past the +Hanyards to the village enters the main road abruptly, and clumps of elms +prevent anyone travelling along it from seeing what is happening in the +village. The vicarage is opposite the smithy and the inn, and when mother +and Kate got there, only a few dragoons were about. They watched the +Colonel ride up, leading his daughter's horse, and saw him turn round at +once and attempt to go back as soon as he caught sight of the dragoons; +but a larger body, under the command of Major Tixall, cantered in at the +moment and, trapped between the two bodies, the Colonel had been compelled +to surrender. He was kept until my Lord Brocton's arrival nearly an hour +later, and had then been sent on to Stafford under a strong guard. + +This was the only fresh piece of information that was of any importance. +There is a jail at Stafford, and no doubt the Colonel was by now lodged in +it. + +"I fear that my views, or at any rate my father's views, make me a +dangerous guest," said Mistress Waynflete, "though your kindness has made +me a welcome one." + +"Madam," I said coldly, "the only politics I know is that my Lord Brocton +is fighting against the Stuart, and if by fighting for the Stuart I can +get in a fair blow at my Lord Brocton, I fight for the Stuart." + +"Oliver," said mother, "it is wrong--I say nothing about its wisdom--to +choose sides in such matters on grounds of personal enmity." + +"Lord Brocton's a beast," said Kate shortly. + +Mistress Waynflete had turned a richer colour at the mention of Brocton's +name, but at Kate's words she became scarlet, and for that I vowed I would +knock him on the head as ruthlessly as if he were a buck rabbit as soon as +I got the chance. + +She recovered and continued her story, but as it only concerned my share +in the day's doings, it is unnecessary to repeat it here. She told it, +however, in such kind terms, that I made an end to my discomfort by going +to fetch the great jack for mother and Kate to look at. When returning, +however, I could not help hearing Kate say to Mistress Waynflete, "Without +a 'by your leave'?" + +"As indifferently as if I had been a bag of flour," was the cool reply. +And I had dithered like an aspen leaf! + +"I suppose he half drowned you?" + +"On the contrary, there was not a wet stitch on me." + +"Oliver," added my mother, "has not many things to do that are worth his +doing, but what he finds he does well." + +"Such as catching jack," said I, staggering in with my heavy load. It was +admired unstintingly, and was indeed worthy of all praise. + +"Supper is ready, mam," said Jane; "and Joe says he knowed it wor as big +as a gate-post." + +"And where is Joe?" + +"In the kitchen, Master Noll." + +"Give him a good supper, not much ale, and that small, and tell him to +stop there. I shall want him." Then, turning to Mistress Waynflete, I went +on: "There's one way, and only one, into Stafford that's perfectly safe +to-night. Joe and I will row you there. Now, mother, I'm hungrier than the +great jack ever was." + + + +CHAPTER IV + +OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES + + +I have already said that the river was the boundary of the Hanyards on +the side towards the village. About a hundred yards above the pocket of +deep water where the jack had lain, I had built a little covered dock, and +here I kept a craft, half boat and half punt, which I used for my fishing, +and in which mother and Kate could lie on cushions while I rowed them on +the river on warm summer nights. It was heavy and ungainly, but very +comfortable, and as safe as the ark. + +Joe received the information that he was to row to Stafford as cheerfully +as an invitation to a jug of beer, and went off whistling to get the boat +ready. + +Everything that care could suggest was done for Mistress Waynflete's +comfort. Jane carried down to the boat two huge stone beer bottles, filled +with boiling water. Mother insisted on madam taking her thick hooded +cloak, shaped like a fashionable domino, and covering her from head to +ankles. Kate slipped into my pocket a pint flask of her extra special +concoction of peppermint cordial, the best possible companion on a night +like this. Jane came back and returned again laden with rugs and cushions, +and soon reported that the boat was ready. + +Mother and Kate, with Jane behind them, came to the garden gate to bid us +farewell. Little was said, for Mistress Waynflete was too moved by their +kindness to say much, and I was too preoccupied. Madam kissed them all in +turn and murmured a good-bye. I kissed mother and Kate, and they wished me +a good voyage and a safe return. We turned our faces riverward and started. + +It was now nearly eight o'clock. The night was pitch-dark, the sky +star-studded and moonless. It was freezing hard, the keen air stung our +faces, the tiniest twig was finger-thick with hoar-frost, and the grass +crunched under our feet at every step. I went ahead as guide, and in five +minutes we arrived at the dock, where Joe, the boat out, cushioned and +trim for the voyage, was vigorously slapping his hands crosswise round his +waist to keep them warm. He held the boat up to the bank, I stepped in, +handed in Mistress Waynflete, bestowed her with all possible comfort, +settled by her side, and took the ropes. Then Joe, clambering in, pushed +off and the voyage began. + +It was up-stream, but fortunately the current was gentle, though there +was a fair amount of water coming down. There was, or rather would have +been on an ordinary night, no danger of discovery, since the river was +half a mile from the main road at our starting-place, and ran still +farther away from it for nearly two miles. Then came the one possible +danger-spot on such a night as this, with the road occupied by troops on +the march. A long bend in the river took it so close to the road that the +yard of a wayside inn ran right down to the water. If we got safely past +this, all danger would be over till we ran sheer up to the ruined wall of +the town. The moon would not rise for two hours, so there was ample time +for our row of about five miles. + +"I trust you are comfortable, madam?" I said. + +"Comfortable and warm and cosy," she replied. "But for my fears for my +father I should even be happy, for it has never before been my lot, and I +have wandered far and wide over half Europe, to experience such and so +much kindness in one day from perfect strangers." + +"I am, indeed, happy in my mother and sister. They are pearls of great +price." + +"None better in all Staffordsheer," said Joe. + +"You have rendered me a greater service than you know of, and I must not +let you leave yourself out." To hide a note of wistfulness in her voice, +she added mischievously, "Must I, Joe?" + +"Yow could find wus'n' Wheatman o' th' 'Anyards," said Joe, with sturdy +precision of praise. + +"Is he really a hell-hound, Joe, when he's got a sup of beer in him? I've +no clear notion what a hell-hound is, but clearly it means something as +bad, say, as a janissary--the worst animal I ever came across." + +"Sup o' beer in 'im," snorted Joe contemptuously. "He dunna really know +what beer is, my lady. It's a grand thing is beer, if y'll only tak' +enough of it to do y' good, but there's no vartue in half a pint of it. +I've told 'im that lots of times. But it's God's truth, my lady, 'e dunna +want no beer, dunna Master Noll, to mak 'im 'it like the kick of a 'oss. I +on'y brought 'im a few daceys up t'ouse this mawnin', an'--" + +"You row harder, Joe, and yawp less," said I, interrupting him. "Between +you and Jane I shan't have a rag of character left." + +"Sup o' beer in him," he growled, and spat loudly on his hands. Joe +looked at all men as potential customers of the "Bull and Mouth," and +judged them accordingly. + +"I know the worst about you now, Master Wheatman, and by way of providing +you with a less embarrassing topic of conversation, you might tell me what +we shall do when we get to Stafford." + +"We are going to Marry-me-quick's." + +She started so abruptly that I laughed outright, and Joe rumbled like an +overloaded wagon. I explained. + +"We shall approach the town on the south side where the wall comes down +to the river. 'Marry-me-quick' is not, as you seem to suppose, a +disagreeable process, but an agreeable old woman who lives in a cottage +which backs on to the river. Every schoolboy in the town knows her by that +name, which is also the name of a kind of toffee she makes, and by the +sale of which she earns a modest living. I cannot tell you how the name +originated, but there it is. I went to the grammar school in the town, and +in my time I must have bought and consumed some hundredweights of her +'marry-me-quick.' In her tiny cottage you may rest in safety while I hunt +up Jack Dobson and learn what has been done with your father." + +"An' if I'd got a shilling," said the irrepressible Joe, "for every pat +of butter I've taken owd Marry-me-quick, I'd--I'd--" + +He seemed lost for words, so I assisted him, and paid him back at the +same time, by saying, "Pluck up courage enough to speak to Jane." + +"That's rate, Master Noll." + +"Is Jane so very fond of money, Joe?" asked Mistress Waynflete curiously. + +"No," said Joe. "She ain't grasping, ain't Jin. She told me t'nate, she +c'd 'ave 'ad a mint of money if she'd liked, but she wouldna tak' it. Said +it would 'a' burnt 'er fingers. 'More fool yow,' says I; 'it'd 'a' soon +gotten cowd weather like this'n.' But Jin's all rate. Er'll never bre'k +'er arm at church door, wunna Jin." + +I explained to Mistress Waynflete that a woman who broke her arm at the +church door was a housewifely maiden who became a slatternly housewife +after marriage. "There's no fear of Jane doing that," she replied; "she's +as good as the guineas she would not take." + +For a space silence fell on us. All my attention was required to keep the +boat clear of the banks, for the little river turned and twisted through +its meadows like a hunted hare. There was only the starlight to steer by, +but I had fished every yard of the river, and knew it so well that I gave +Joe a clear channel to row in. Not a sound jarred on the rhythmic purr of +the oars in the rowlocks and the gentle lapping of the stream against the +bow. This day had God been very good to me. This was life as I would have +it; work to do for brain and brawn, and a woman to do it for who was worth +the uttermost that was in me. Romance had flushed the drab night of my +life with a rosy dawn, and my heart was lifted up within me. If it faded +away, there would at least be the memory of it. But it might not fade. I +was under no illusions as to the stiffness of my task. I was matched +against the powers that be, against my Lord Brocton, whose ability to work +this maiden ill was increased a thousandfold by his military authority. I +saw my way into Stafford, and I saw no more, not even my way out of it, +and least of all my way out of it with the Colonel rescued and restored to +his daughter. Mistress Waynflete had been so determined in her decision to +follow her father that perhaps she had some plan in mind. She said nothing +if she had, and if she had, it would, I supposed, depend on her woman's +power of influencing Brocton. The future was as black as the outlook along +the river, but I faced it eagerly. + +She broke the silence: "The last boat I was in was a gondola. It was on a +perfect night in a Venetian June, the sky a sapphire sprinkled with +diamonds, the warm, scent-laden air filled with murmurings and snatches of +song. And there was no danger." + +"Romance, perchance," said I. + +"You cannot have a one-sided romance. Romance is an atmosphere breathed +by two, not an emotion felt by one. To be sure, he was the most +appallingly in earnest lover woman ever had. He wept for a kiss with his +fingers twiddling on the hilt of his stiletto. Dear heart, these Italians!" + +"I should like to meet his countship," said I energetically. + +"Yes, he was a count, with a pedigree as long as the Rialto, and he had +not two silver piastres to rub against each other. He was the handsomest +man I have even seen. Fortunately, we left Venice before he had quite +decided that it was time to dig his knife into me." + +"You speak lightly of your danger, madam," I said coldly. + +"A hot-blooded Italian with a stiletto in his hand is a much more +desirable creature, let me tell you, than a cold-blooded Englishman with +the devil in his heart. That fiery little count, conceited and +poverty-stricken, did at any rate pay me the compliment of thinking for at +least a fortnight that I was a patch of heaven fallen in his way, whereas +to your cold-livered English lord I am no more than an appetizing dish." + +She was not speaking lightly now, but with cold, concentrated anger. I +remembered the reticencies of her statement at the Hanyards, and began to +see dimly some of the connecting links in her story. My Lord Brocton's +character was well enough known to be the subject of common talk at our +market ordinaries. My very manhood shamed me in the presence of this +queenly woman, marked down by a titled blackguard as his quarry, and I sat +still, fists tightly clenched on the tiller-ropes, and said nothing, +waiting for her to speak again. + +"I have seen to-day, Master Wheatman," she said, "a sight I have never +seen before--a beautiful English maiden growing up to womanhood in the +calm and safety of an English country home. You will be tempted, I know, +to envy me my wanderings, my experiences, my freedom, but, believe me, I +would rather be your sweet Kate in the quiet of the Hanyards." + +"It isn't as quiet as it might be when Jack's about," said I, seeking to +change the current of her thoughts. Then I had to tell her all about Jack, +and our boyish escapades and fightings and friendings, and because I had +earlier in the day though evil of dear Jack, I now could say nothing good +enough about him. + +It was time to relieve Joe at the oars. At first he would not agree, for, +he said, he'd been "lagging a bit during the day 'long o' them squaddies," +and wanted to put in a day's work. + +"You will, before you've done, Joe, for you've got to pull the boat back. +So have a swig of beer and we'll change over. And madam shall acknowledge +the virtues of our Kate's peppermint cordial." + +Joe shipped his oars and reached out for his bottle of beer. I got out +the flask and said in a sing-song voice: "Take two gallons of the best +Hollands money can buy, and add thereto, first, four pounds of choice +Barbados sugar, and, secondly, two bushels of freshly gathered leaves of +the plant peppermint. Steep together for a whole moon, stirring the +concoction every four hours during the daytime, and as often as you wake +o' nights. Strain through a piece of linen, if you've got one; if not, do +what our Kate did this year, use a fair maiden's silk stocking. The result +is a drink fit for the gods, and, indeed, one which may even be offered to +goddesses. Drink, madam!" + +She was laughing merrily before I had finished. "Kate's stocking sounds +the most innocent ingredient in it, Master Wheatman, but I must try her +skill in brewing." + +She did so, and pronounced it excellent but strong. I tried it too, +rather more copiously, I confess. Indeed, it was good, but to me, I know, +the charm of the cordial this time lay in the thought of the rich red lips +that had touched the flask before mine. + +Joe and I then changed places, and I kept hard at the oars until we came +to the reach which ran close up to the "Why Not." Here Joe resumed the +oars and I the ropes. + +"This is the only danger-spot," I said. "Yonder are the lights of the +ale-house. On an ordinary night there would be no one about, even if it +mattered if there were, but to-night, when it does matter, there are +thousands of soldiers on the march, and there is some risk of our being +observed." + +In another five minutes or so we heard faint snatches of song and bursts +of applause, and shouting and laughing. The "Why Not" was now about a +hundred yards ahead on our left. On the right the bank was lined with +willows which, not having been pollarded for many years, stretched their +long, thin branches well over the river. I ran the boat as far under them +as I could. Joe pulled with short, soft strokes, and we crept slowly +along. For a minute the lighted windows were obscured by the outhouses, +and just as I caught sight of them again, a door was flung open, and the +jumble of noises swelled into a roar of jeering laughter. A young woman +flew out, heedlessly and noisily as a flustered hen, and a burly soldier +lurched after her down the yard. At a whisper, Joe shipped his oars, and I +ran the boat right into the bank. I grabbed in the dark for a hold-to, and +luckily seized the roots of a willow. At his end Joe did the same. We +hardly dared to breathe as we watched the doings on the other bank. + +Lust, of blood or worse, and the fear of it, were there. The lighted +windows and the open door made every movement of the man and the girl +clearly visible. No one followed them. It was so ordinary an event to the +company, perhaps that it was not worth while leaving mirth and beer to see +the issue. But all serious elements in their affair changed abruptly and +to our instant jeopardy. On the very edge of the water the girl, knowing +her whereabouts to an inch, turned cleverly. The man, a stranger +obviously, ran on and pitched clean and far into the river, while she, +laughing and triumphant, scuttled back to the house. Her tale brought out +at once a spurt of men, yelling with joy, to watch the fun. Some of them +had snatched up lanterns and lighted candles, and they were followed later +by a fresh, older, shrieking woman who carried a huge, burning brand +plucked from the hearth. + +Happily for us the river was shallow, for a couple of strokes would have +brought the man clean into us. The shock of the icy water sobered him. He +splashed and spluttered to his feet, climbed up the bank like a giant +water-rat, and would have slunk towards the house; but the rabble were on +him before he had taken a dozen paces, and tormented him till he roared +like a wounded bull. The woman with the brand cried out on him with vile +words that made my face burn in the dark, and belaboured him about the +head with her blazing cudgel. At every blow a shower of sparks flew out +that drove his rollicking mates into a ring around them at a safe distance +away. The man must have been set afire had he not been soused in the river +beforehand. None of his fellows tried to help him, just as before none had +tried to hinder him. It was his look out either way, and they enjoyed his +discomfiture with all the gusto of children. At last the breathless woman +and the cowed man came to a parley, the result of which was that, with a +whoop of "pots round," they all crowded back into the ale-house, and we +were once more alone on the river. + +"The ordeal by water and by fire," I said. "Push out, Joe." + +"Gom! Owd Bess give 'im sock," he replied, and levered the nose of the +boat into midstream again. + +Although there was no real need for it, the escape kept us all quiet. I +persuaded Mistress Waynflete to lie down, so as to avoid the biting wind +that was sweeping across the river, and Joe and I by turns made such +progress that in less than an hour we drew up to the town meadow. + +The greatest caution was now necessary, since we saw that the bridge +leading into the town was thronged with people, many carrying lanterns or +torches. The town wall ran parallel to the river, on our right, with a +narrow fringe of meadow between them. Here the wall was for the most part +tumbled into ruins, and in the gaps stood little cottages, built in part +of the stones that had once formed the wall. In one of these lived little +old Marry-me-quick, Mistress Martha Tonks, to give her her christening +name, and we ran up to the bank level with her place without being +observed from the bridge, although it was only a few boat-lengths distant. + +I stepped cautiously out and tiptoed to her back window. There the +ancient maiden was, busily engaged in the manufacture of her staple, no +doubt in anticipation of a greater demand for it in these stirring days, +when much extra money would be passing around in the town, and many +pennies thereof would dribble into the pockets of the youngsters. I lifted +the latch and stepped in. She squeaked with affright till she saw who it +was, and then turned her note into a gurgle of astonishment. + +"Are you alone?" I asked. She nodded. "Just a minute then, and I'll be +back again, with a visitor. Keep quiet!" + +I returned to the boat, and as I was obliged to move as stealthily as a +cat, I could not help, as I approached, hearing Joe say emphatically, "I +wunna." I cursed him silent, without troubling to ask what he was +objecting to, and handed Mistress Waynflete out. + +"Now, Joe," I whispered, "off you go back! The moon will be up in a few +minutes, and you ought to do it in an hour. You can sit in the kitchen all +to-morrow to make up for this." + +"Jin said 'er'd sit up for me," he said, and I was glad he had such a +good motive to keep him up to his hard task. + +"Good-bye, Joe," said Mistress Waynflete, shaking the good fellow warmly +by the hand. "Give my loving remembrances to your mistresses and to Jane. +Say how grateful I am." + +"Good-bye, my lady," he said simply, "and God bless you." So that only I +could hear him, he added, "Tak' good keer on 'er, Master Noll. Jin's awful +sot on 'er, and wunna luk at me if any 'arm 'appens 'er." + +I gripped his hard hand, gave him my parting message home, and then +crouched and pushed the boat into and down the stream. As I lifted my hand +from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the +last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand +was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with +the new life. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE + + +I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she +manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night. Her cottage +contained only one other room, serving as shop and living room, and +fronting on a narrow lane which turned abruptly from the main street at +the bridge-end to follow the curve of the walls. By the time I returned +with Mistress Waynflete she had shuttered the window of the shop, snuffed +the candles, and stirred the fire into a blaze. + +Marry-me-quick was an ancient, wizened, little woman, so small that she +hardly escaped being a dwarf, humpbacked, and inexpressibly ugly. In times +not so long gone by she would assuredly have burned as a witch, and many +supposed her to be in league with the evil one. But in actual fact she was +a cheery, voluble, and warm-hearted little body, and one on whom I could +rely to serve us in this pinch. + +"Mistress Tonks," I said, "I want you to shelter this lady for the night." + +"To be sure," chirped the little woman. "Luckily I've kept the sojers +off. Every house in the town is full of 'em, and the Mayor's at his wits' +end to know how to stuff 'em all in. I should think a score of 'em have +come here, in ones, and twos, and threes; and when I stood bold up to them +and said, 'Do you want any marry-me-quick?' they were off like scared +rabbits. A great, sweet lady like you wouldn't think it, of course, but +it's a godsend at times for a lone woman when she's ugly enough to turn +cream sour, and somedeal crooked o' the body into the bargain." + +"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete, +deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman +has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not +want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter." + +"I should befriend the devil's dam, asking your ladyship's pardon, if +Master Wheatman brought her here. I'm a little, lone, ugly woman, but +Master Noll always stood by me. The lads, drat 'em, were for ever pinching +Master Dobson's bull's-eyes and gingerbread, and him mayor of the town, +though he's got lots grander than that since, but they never pinched any +marry-me-quick, not in Master Noll's time. But he's gone now, and I'm not +as nimble as I used to be. Jesus help me, how he had used to fight! He +used to put my heart in my mouth, coming in here all blood and muck to +wash himself afore he went home. But take your things off and make +yourself at home." + +"I'm afraid you'll hear a too full and too true account of me, madam, +while I am away," said I. "Soldiers are likely to call, but you can leave +Mistress Tonks to deal with them. Still, please discard your own jacket +and hat, and wear mother's domino. It's homely and country-like, and you +must pull the hood over your head, since, if your hair has been described, +and any soldier who calls has heard of it, he will have to be blind not to +notice it." + +"Yes, it's dreadful stuff," she said, with amusing meekness. + +"So dreadful, madam," said I soberly, "that all England cannot match it. +Therefore you must hide it, lest it should shock some poor soldier who +comes seeking a billet and finds it." + +She took off her hat, preparing to do what I asked, and the wondrous +yellow hair, coils upon coils of it, was revealed. "Jesus help me," said +little Marry-me-quick in a hushed voice, "the back of her head looks like +a harvest moon. If the same God that made her ladyship made me, we shall +begin life in heaven with a row, that's all I've got to say." + +I smiled at the quaint conceit of the little woman, which lost its +irreverence towards God in its reverence for His handiwork. "Now mother +Tonks," said I, "I leave this lady in your charge for a time while I go +into the town to see Master Dobson. I may be away some time, and you'll +get us some supper. Anything you have will do." + +"Anything I have?" she echoed scornfully. "I've got one of them rabbits +you sent me last market day by that lozzicking Joe Braggs, but he's a good +gorby is Joe"--here her voice softened, and madam smiled agreement--"and +this frost has kept it as sweet as a nut. If you're not too hungry to +wait, I'll make you some rabbit-stew." + +"Rabbit-stew? I'll wait for that, and I'm sure Mistress Waynflete will," +said I. + +"I'll live on marry-me-quick in the meantime," she replied, laughing. + +"I leave you then in good hands, and hope to come back with cheerful +news," I said, bowing low, and stepped forth on my errand. + +I turned to the left and fifty paces brought me into the main street. A +gun and a train of wagons were rumbling over the bridge, convoyed by a +handful of dragoons and a riff-raff of noisy lads and lasses. Late and +cold as it was, the main street was thronged as on a fair day at noon. +Most of the shops, especially those that dealt in provisions, were open +and full of vociferous customers, while every alehouse was a pandemonium. +The street was choked with townspeople and soldiery; lanterns flickered +and torches flamed; oath and jest, bravado and buffoonery, filled the air. + +I pushed my way to the market-place. Here about a dozen guns were parked, +and at least a hundred horses tethered. At each corner a huge fire cracked +and roared. The town hall was a blaze of light, and I heard from passersby +that the mayor and council had been in session since noon. The current +rumour was that the Stuart, with fifty thousand Highlanders, savages who +disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food, had sacked +Manchester and was now marching south, with hell in his heart and +desolation in his train. If one-hundredth of it were true, the worthy +mayor had his work cut out, for the town was so ill-found that it would +have fallen to a bombardment of turnips. + +I took my stand on the town-hall steps to scan the scene and collect my +thoughts. And here I had the best of luck, for who should come clanking +down the steps but Jack Dobson. I had no need to envy him now, having +better work on hand than his, but even if the mood of the midday had been +prevailing, it would have disappeared before his hearty greeting. + +"Noll, by gad, Noll," he cried, wringing my hand joyously. "I am glad to +see you, bully-boy; I thought you were sulking in your tent like--like, +you know his name, the fellow old Bloggs was always yarning about." + +"Iphigenia," said I. + +"Was that the chap?" he said cheerily. "And now I've got you, come along +to the house. I've more to tell you than there is in all your silly old +Virgil, and it's alive, man, alive, alive. That's why it suits me. Come +along, Noll. Lord Brocton's supping and staying with dad, so's Sneyd, and +a lot more, and you'll hear all the news. Brocton's a beast, and I'm glad +I'm an officer, if it's only a cornet in his rotten dragoons. There'll be +one beast less in the world, I'm thinking, before long." + +"What's he done to upset you?" + +"I say, Noll," was his reply, "Kate did look sweet this afternoon. I was +glad to have her come and see me off to the wars. I only had a few +snatches of talk with her. Brocton was for ever finding me something to +do, rot him, but she did look sweet." + +"All right, if she did. Never mind our Kate." + +"Never mind your Kate, you barbarian, you one-eyed anthropathingamy! Oh, +Noll, old friend"--there was a catch in his voice as he dragged me into +the entry at the side of old Comfit's shop,--"she's your Kate now, but if +I come back, I want her to be my Kate. Don't breathe a word to her, Noll, +unless I never come back,--war has its risks, Noll, and I'm going to take +'em all,--but if I never come back, Noll, just tell Kate that I loved her." + +A plump of townspeople yelled their way past the entry, and their torches +lit up his fresh, boyish face, all alight with the enthusiasms of war and +love. I clasped his hand, and we looked into each other's eyes. + +"I'm glad to tell you, Noll." + +"I'm glad to hear it, Jack. Come back, for Kate's sake." + +The good fellow bubbled with joy at the meaning in my words, and we +continued our way up the entry, intending a detour where we could talk in +quiet, but before we had got out of the glare of the torches, he stopped +me, looked searchingly at me and said, "Old Noll, there's more in your +head now than Virgil." This confirmed my suspicion that Master Jack Dobson +was learning in his way more than I had learned in mine. + +"Farming," said I. "Tell me why Brocton is a beast." + +"He thinks every pretty woman a butterfly for his filthy fingers to crush +the beauty out of. But if he rolls his beast's tongue round one name, +either he or I will want that ferryman chap. What's his name?" + +"Charon," said I, forgetting to tease him. + +"That's him, Charon, I'm sure you're right this time. I wasn't sure about +the sulky old boy in the tent. I always thought Iphi-something was the one +that got his throat--Abram and Isaac sort of tale without any ram and +thicket at the end of it--but of course you'll be right." + +"And what sort of dragoons are you cornet of?" I asked. + +"They give me the bats, Noll. There's about two hundred town-sweepings, +not worth powder and shot, who want tying on their horses, and hardly know +butt from bayonet, and there's another two hundred better men, got +together coming along, or in the country around Lichfield. Sneyd, a +rattling good fellow, and I have tossed for stations, and when it comes to +a battle he's to lead the yokels and I'm to follow behind, kicking the +scum of London into the firing-line. Damn 'em. But I'll kick 'em right +enough. Then there's Major Tixall--major, by gad--a slinking cut-throat, +with a face the colour of pigs' liver. What he's majoring it for, Brocton +and the devil alone know. The only good thing is we've got a first-rate +drill sergeant. He's Brocton's toady, and for that I don't like him, but +he does know his business, I must say that for him." + +"Big-headed man, with a mouth slit up to his left ear?" said I, seizing +the welcome opportunity. + +"How the deuce do you know?" asked Jack, astonished. + +"He came searching the Hanyards this afternoon for a Jacobite spy, a +woman. But he didn't find her. She slipped through his fingers somehow. I +understood from big-mouth that you'd caught her father. What have you done +with him? Is he crow's meat yet?" + +"No, for some reason or other, which is a mystery to me, Brocton sent him +on with the van." + +"Here?" + +"No, farther on. Their orders are to push into Stone to-day, and +Newcastle to-morrow. They ought to be in touch with the enemy there. Of +course it's not certain which way they'll come, and if they come this way, +Noll, mark you, we've made a mistake. We ought to have waited for 'em at +Milford. We could have blown 'em to bits from the top of the hills, long +before they could have got at us." + +Our talk had brought us to an alley containing a side entrance to Master +Dobson's fine, old, timbered house, the pride of the town and known there +as the "Ancient High House." It stood on the main street of the town, +which led from the bridge to the market-place. For a moment I was +undecided, since I had obtained the news that mattered most, but I had +only been out a short time, the rabbit-stew would not be ready, Mistress +Waynflete was safe and comfortable, and might prefer to be alone, it was +possible that I might learn something further--and on these grounds I +decided that it would be well worth while to accept Jack's invitation. I +therefore followed him into the withdrawing-room. Here I paid due +courtesies to buxom Mistress Dobson and Mistress Priscilla Dobson, Jack's +oldest sister, a wasp-waisted bundle of formalities, for ever curtsying +and coquetting, after the London mode as she fondly imagined. My back +fairly ached with answering bobs and bows before we had drunk our part of +a dish of tea, which Mistress Dobson had brewed wherewith to refresh +herself after the toils of hospitality, but at last I jerked my way out at +Jack's heels, and we climbed to the stately barrel-roofed room where the +great ones were assembled. + +Horseshoe-wise round a mighty fire of logs, with a small table covered +with decanters and glasses between each pair, some dozen men sat at their +wine. There was, of course, Master Dobson, his meagre body all a twitter +with importance, sitting in the centre of the bend, opposite the fire, +whence he could survey all his guests at once, and urge them on with their +carousing. + +"My son returneth, my lord," he said, "with news from the worshipful the +Mayor, and he hath brought with him a worthy yeoman, one Master Wheatman, +who--" + +"Of the Hanyards, Esquire," said I in a testy whisper. + +"Ha, yes," he corrected and compromised, "Master Wheatman of the +Hanyards, a loyal subject of His Gracious Majesty." + +"The best friend and hardest hitter in broad Staffordshire," added Jack +heartily. + +I stepped into the horseshoe and made a bow general to the company, and a +lower one for the benefit of my Lord Brocton, who sat next to the hearth +in pride of place and comfort. Some years older than I, but not yet +thirty, handsome as a god carved by Phidias, but with drink and devilment +already marking him out for a damned soul, he sat there, the idol of that +lord-worshipping company. The only vacant chair was on his left. It was +Jack's place, earned by his father's guineas, which had remained vacant +during his absence. The good lad, I record it with pride, notwithstanding +a forbidding glance from his father, motioned me towards it, and fetched a +glass and poured out wine for me. As I was stepping forward his lordship +was good enough to address me. + +"Ha, Master Wheatman of the Hanyards,"--there was a sneer in his voice, +--"it is well I see thee on the right side, or, by gad and His Gracious +Majesty, we'd have that other five hundred acres of yours." He tossed off +a bumper of wine and added, "Or a solatium, Master Wheatman, a solatium." + +I caught Jack's eye as I stepped right into the middle of the group. To +my astonishment it was glowing with anger. Did he not think I could take +care of myself? Really Jack was becoming mysterious, but I supposed that +as I was Kate's brother he was feeling unusually interested in my welfare. +For my own part I was quite comfortable, and I replied easily, "As a +matter of fact, my lord, I have chosen my side expressly on account of the +well-known propensities of your lordship's family." + +For a full minute nothing was heard in the room but the cracking and +sputtering of the fire. This was not because of what I had said, though no +one present, and he least of all, could be fool enough to misunderstand +it, but because of its effect on him. Then, as now, blood flowed like +water on far lighter occasions than this, and Brocton, with all his +faults, was a ready fighter. For once, however, his fingers did not seek +his sword hilt, but fumbled with his empty glass, and his face went white +as the ashes at his feet. At length he recovered himself somewhat. + +"The loyal propensities of my family are well known to all men," he said. + +"And its determination to profit by them," I retorted coldly, and plumped +me down at his side. + +Right opposite me was the rector, a gross, sack-faced, ignorant +jolt-head, jowled like a pig and dew-lapped like an ox. Nature had meant +him for a butcher, but, being a by-blow of a great house, a discerning +patron had diverted him bishopward. In a voice husky with feeling and +wine, he said, "Surely it is the part of a gracious king to reward such +faithful service as that of the noble Earl of Ridgeley and my Lord +Brocton." + +"Decidedly, your reverence," I answered briskly, "and of others too, and +if, as seems likely, the Highlanders have left a vacant deanery or two +behind them, I hope your loyal services and pastoral life will be suitably +rewarded with one." + +Here Jack drew up another chair and I moved to make more room, so that he +could sit next to Brocton, to whom he was soon detailing in eager whispers +the result of his visit to the town hall. The others took up the broken +links of talk, and this gave me an opportunity of inspecting the company. + +There could be no doubt about the man on my left. His vicious, pimply +face manifested him Major Tixall, and Mistress Margaret's shudder was +easily accounted for. He turned his shoulder to me and talked to another +officer, who, so far, was only in his apprenticeship at the same game. +Beyond were two other officers of a wholly different stamp, and the one +who smiled at me with his eyes I took to be Sir Ralph Sneyd, a young +Staffordshire baronet of high repute. Then came Master Dobson, separating +the military sheep from the civilian goats. There was the Friday-faced +clothier and mercer, Master Allwood, strange company here since he was the +elder of a dissenting congregation in the town, and therefore well +separated from his reverence. The worthy mercer's dissent did not extend, +so rumour had it, to the making of hard bargains, and doubtless he was for +once hob-nobbing with the great in respect of his long purse rather than +of his long prayers. Other townsmen, whose names I did not know or cannot +recall, separated deacon from rector. + +The last man in the company, sitting opposite to his lordship, was a +stranger, and by far the man best worth looking at in the room. He had +drawn back a little, either out of the heat of the fire or to avoid his +reverence's vinous gossip as much as possible. Except that he was +certainly neither soldier nor parson, and probably not a lawyer, I could +make nothing of him. He had a massive head and a resolute and intelligent +face. He wore no wig and his hair was grey and closely cropped. I judged +him to be a man nearing sixty, but he appeared strong and vigorous. He was +dressed with rich unostentation, in grey jacket and breeches, with a +lighter grey, silver-buttoned waistcoat, and stockings to match. + +There was only one thing to be talked about in any company in Stafford +that night. What was going to happen? What of truth and substance was +there in the rumours that filled all mouths? At Master Dobson's two +currents of opinion ran violently in opposite directions. The soldiers on +my left were of course certain that the Stuart Prince and his Highland +rabble would be driven back. The towns-people opposite were equally +impressed with the fact that so far he had not been driven back but had +carried all before him. + +Sir Ralph had been stoutly maintaining that the rebellion was hopeless. +"There's no getting away from it, Sir Ralph," squeaked Master Dobson, +summing up for the doubtful townsmen; "between the rebels and us this +night there's not thirty miles nor three hundred men, and you've so far +only got about two thousand men in Stafford. I'm as loyal a man as any in +England, but there's no getting away from that." + +"Nobody wants to get away from it, Master Dobson," replied Sir Ralph. +"Any body of men with arms in their hands and the knack of using them, can +march much farther than the Highlanders have come, if no other body of +armed men stands in their way. The Stuart Prince's march will come to an +end just as soon as he is opposed, and we're here to oppose him." + +Master Dobson was still gloomy. "What sort of men have you got? Raw +militia lads, young recruits, and newly raised dragoons form at least half +of your force in Stafford." + +"Agreed," said Sir Ralph, "but we're rapidly licking 'em into shape, and +the Duke will be after us to-morrow with the regulars." + +"My good Sir Ralph," put in the mercer, "fifty thousand savage +Highlanders will cut through Stafford as easily as if it were a Cheshire +cheese. I fear the worst." + +"My worthy sir," said his lordship, and in his dulcet tones I heard the +tinkle of the mercer's guineas, "you need fear nothing. Neither stick nor +stone in Stafford will be disturbed. We are at least strong enough to make +good terms." + +"And Mistress Allwood," said the rector with a leer, "will be spared the +wastage of her charms on a ragged Highlander." + +The mercer's wife had all the charms of a withered apple, but here was +opening for discord, and our twittering host staved it off by appealing to +the stranger: "What do you think, Master Freake, of the way things are +going?" + +"I have not formed an opinion as to what is likely to happen here, good +Master Dobson," he replied, "but, speaking generally, I should feel much +easier in mind if the Duke's horses were not so utterly worn out." + +There was a distinct note of patronage in the tone in which this shrewd +and sensible remark was uttered, nor was this affected, I thought, but +rather the natural manner of a strong man speaking to a weak one. + +"Egad, you're right there, sir," cried Jack. "Nineteen out of twenty of +them couldn't be flayed into doing another five miles. I was over an hour +getting them from Milford, under five miles." + +"The Highlanders would march it in less," replied Master Freake, "and +this is not a campaign, but a race." + +"Where to?" It was Brocton who spoke. + +"London," was the prompt reply. "That's the heart of England, my lord, +and if Prince Charles gets into the heart he need not be concerned over +Wade marking time in the heels or the Duke sprawling about in its belly." + +"Your speech is light, Master Freake," said the rector with drunken sense +and gravity. "I trust it savoureth not of treasonable hopes." + +I turned during this absurd remark to glance at Brocton to see what +effect this excellent summary of the situation had had on him. To my +surprise I caught him looking so meaningly at the pimple-faced Major, that +I felt sure something was going to happen, and I was right. + +"God rot the man," said the Major thickly. "Does he say that I'm +sprawling about in somebody's belly?" He staggered to his feet, hand on +sword, and made to cross to the stranger, shouting, "Damnation to you, +I'll thrust something into your belly!" + +Brocton, not in the least to my surprise, made no attempt to interfere. +Jack couldn't, for I was in the way. His father began to splutter +helplessly. I shot out my foot, and swept the Major heavily to the floor. +I plucked him up by his collar as if he were a rabbit, and choked him till +his face was nearly black. Then I put him back in his chair, where he sat +huddled up and gasping. + +"Sir," said I to him, with much politeness, "you are tired by the +exertions of the evening. But I like a man who sticks up for his +commander, and desire to have the honour of drinking your health." And I +toasted him complacently, smiling the while into his little pig's eyes. + +This terminated the trouble, which Master Freake had watched with quiet +amusement. For my own part I was now anxious to go, for I was learning +nothing. Accident favoured me, for a servant came in and whispered +something to Brocton which took him out of the room. I seized the +opportunity to follow, declining to allow Jack to accompany me, and +wishing him good-bye and good luck. "Remember about Kate," were his last +words, whispered eagerly as he loosed my hand and opened me the door. + +Several rooms opened on the landing, and I noticed that one door was +ajar. As I passed the slit of light I caught sight of the sergeant of +dragoons, and stopped beyond the door to listen. I heard Brocton's voice, +and caught the words, "Egad, I'll e'en try her. Take the best horse +available. There's no danger, but speed is everything." He dropped his +voice to a whisper and for a moment or two I caught nothing. Then, raising +his voice again, he said, "And now for your prize." I heard him move to +go, and darted ahead, silent as a bat in a barn, and a moment later was in +the noisy street. There was nothing to keep me now, and a few minutes +later I quietly lifted Marry-me-quick's latch, stepped into the room, and +observed at once that Mistress Waynflete's look imported news. + +"Now, little mother," said I to Mistress Tonks, "supper's the blessedest +word I know." + +"And the rabbit-stew's as good as done by now," she said, and went into +the back room to dish it up. + +"The man with the slit face has been," said Mistress Waynflete +composedly. "He came hunting for quarters, but Mistress Tonks frightened +him off. At any rate, he soon left." + +"Did he recognize you as 'Moll' of the Hanyards?" + +"I'm quite sure that he did not. I turned my back the moment he entered, +and my hood was up. Moreover, I did not speak a word. Mother Tonks said +that I was staying here for the night because my father's house was full +of soldiers. She couldn't and wouldn't, she said, have a soldier here for +all the worshipful mayors in England. I was quite amused at the way she +talked him back to the door and through it." + +The little woman bustled in to lay the supper things. She was bubbling +over with elation. "It'll be another ten or fifteen minutes, will the +rabbit-stew. The lady will have told you about ugly mug, Master Oliver. I +got him out in no time. His head was all mouth like a cod-fish. I'll soon +be back. I expect you're both hungry." + +Off she bustled again, and we again settled down to our talk. I was +anxious to see if she could throw any light on Brocton's dealing with her +father. His conduct was to me wholly inexplicable. Then, too, there was +his obvious understanding with Major Tixall in the matter of the latter's +attack on Master Freake. Who was this stranger and why had he incurred +Brocton's enmity? Here was a whole string of puzzles awaiting solution. +But before I could start the conversation we were again interrupted. The +latch clicked, the door opened, and in walked my Lord Brocton. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MY LORD BROCTON + + +I was as new to a life of action as an hour-old duckling is to water, and +this ironical upset of all my plans left me helpless. The very last man +whom I wanted to see Mistress Waynflete was here, his plumed hat sweeping +to the floor, triumph on his handsome face and in his easy, languid tones. +Indeed, more astonishing than his being here, was his manner and bearing. +At Master Dobson's, a natural remark of mine had beaten all his wits out +of him. Here his assurance was such that it puzzled me out of action. + +"My sergeant, madam," he began, "no mean judge, since he has seen the +reigning beauties of half the capitals of Europe, told me to expect a +prize, but it is the prize. Master Wheatman, you are not, I am told, as +good a judge of cattle as Turnip Townshend, but you are, let me tell you, +a better one of women. I understand you know. Both acres and solatium +shall be mine in any event. And, dear Margaret, though I do not understand +what your haughtiness is doing here alone with my farmer friend, I need +hardly say that your devoted servant greets you with all humility." + +Again his hat curved in mockery through the air. He replaced it on his +head, drew his rapier, with quick turns of his wrist swished the supple +blade through the air till it sang, then flashed it out at me like the +tongue of an adder, and said, "Sit you still, Farmer Wheatman, sit you +still. Move but your hand and I spit you like a lark on a skewer. So, +little man, so!" + +The contempt in his words stirred the gall in my liver, but I neither +spoke nor shifted, and he continued, addressing her, but with cold, amused +eyes fixed on me, "You see, sweet Margaret, how yokel blood means yokel +mood. Your turnip-knight freezes at the sight of steel." + +In part at least he spoke truth. I had rarely seen a naked sword, other +than our time-worn and useless relic of the doughty Smite-and-spare-not, +and had never sat thus at the point of one drawn in earnest on myself. It +is easy to blame me, and at the back of my own mind I was blaming and +cursing myself, as I sat helpless there. I was keen as the blade he bore +to help her, for here was her hour of uttermost need, but I did not see +that I should be capable of much service with a hole in my heart, and he +had me at his mercy beyond a doubt, so long as he had me in his eye. No, +galling as it was, there was nothing to do but to wait the turn of events. +Something might divert his attention. One second was all I wanted, and I +sat there praying for it and ready for it. Meanwhile the scene, the talk, +and she were full of interest. + +Marry-me-quick's cottage was no hovel, either for size or appointments. +Brocton was standing with his back to a dresser. On his left was the outer +door, and on his right, between him and Mistress Waynflete, the door in +the party wall leading to the back room where the rabbit-stew was now +being dished up. Madam and I sat on opposite sides of the large hearth, a +small round table, drawn close to the fire for comfort and covered with +the supper things, occupied part of the space between us, but there was +plenty of room for action. When Brocton had stretched out his rapier +towards me in threat and command, the point was perhaps three feet from my +breast, and he could master my slightest movement. + +And Mistress Waynflete. At the bridge in the afternoon I had noticed that +while danger for her father had stirred her heart to its dearest depth, +danger for herself troubled her not one whit. When I looked at her now +there was no fear in her face, which was calm as the face of a pictured +saint, but I saw questionings there and knew they were of me. Plainly as +if she spoke the words, her great blue eyes were saying, "Am I leaning on +a broken reed?" As she caught my look she turned to Brocton, and I gritted +my teeth and listened. + +"So your lordship has found me!" She spoke easily and lightly. "How small +the world must be since it cannot find room for me to avoid you!" + +"Say rather, dear mistress, that my love draws me unerringly towards you." + +"I thought I gathered that there was another motive for your coming here +to-night." + +"Margaret, believe me, I am distraught," he said, not wholly in mockery +it seemed to me. + +"So distraught, it seems, that you neglect your plainest duty as an +officer in order to corrupt, if you can, a supposed country maiden, of +whom you have heard by chance. His Grace of Cumberland will be glad to +hear of such devotion." + +"Won't you listen to me, Margaret? You know I love you." + +"If you were offering me, my lord, the only kind of love which an +honourable man can offer, I should still refuse it. Your reputation, +character, and person are all equally disagreeable to me, and that you +should imagine that there is even the smallest chance of your succeeding, +is an insult for which, were I a man, you should pay dearly." + +"On the contrary, dear Margaret," he replied, in his most silken tones, +plainly shifting to more favourable ground, "I fancy that the chance is by +no means small." + +"Your fancy does not interest me," was the cold reply. + +"Every woman has her price, if I may adapt a phrase of the late Sir +Robert's, and I can pay yours. Excuse my frankness, Margaret. It would be +unpardonable if we were not alone. Yon cattle-drover hardly counts as +audience, I fancy, for he is already as good as strung up as a rebel." + +After a long silence, so long that I tried to find an explanation of it, +she said, "You refer to my father?" There was a quaver in her voice which +all her bravery could not suppress. + +"Exactly, Margaret, to your dear father." + +"In times like this, no doubt, your conduct in arresting him will pass +for legal, but fortunately some evidence will be required, and you have +none. The fact is that in your loyal zeal you have acted too soon." + +"I thought your daughterly instincts would be aroused," he answered, +scoffing openly as he saw his advantage. "They have lain dormant longer +than I expected. Believe me, Margaret, for my own purposes I have acted in +the very nick of time, and you will do well to drop your unfounded hopes +of the future. Your father's fate is certain if I act, for I can call a +witness--you remember Major Tixall, a beery but insinuating person--whose +evidence is enough to hang him fifty times over. Whether or not I produce +it depends, as I say, on the depth of your affection for him." + +"I shall know how to save my father, my lord, when the time comes. Now, +perhaps, having played your last card, you will leave me." + +"My dear Margaret," was the cool reply, "your innocence amazes me. My +last card! Not at all, sweet queen. You are my last card." + +"I? How so?" + +"You, too, are a rebel, if I choose to say the word, and a dangerous one +to boot. So here's your choice: come where love awaits you or go where the +gallows awaits you." + +"And if I could so far forget my nature as to come where love of your +sort, the love of a mere brute beast, awaits me, you would forget +everything?" + +"Everything, Margaret." + +"Your duty to your King included?" + +"Certainly. There's nothing I will not do, or leave undone, at your +behest for your fair sake." + +"You flatter me, my lord, far above my poor deserts. And now, if your +lordship will excuse me,"--she arose at the words, pale and determined as +death,--"I will e'en go and give myself up to some responsible officer and +acquaint him with your conduct." + +"He would not believe you, my sweet Margaret." + +"You forget I have a witness, my lord." For the first time during the +conversation she looked across at me. + +"He would not be there to witness, Margaret. Surely you suppose that I am +wise enough to prevent that move. Keep on sitting still, Farmer Oliver. +I'm glad, believe me, to see you so interested. A difficult piece of +virtue she is, to be sure, and if you could only escape a hanging, which +you will not, you might have learned to-night a useful lesson in the art +of managing a woman. It's an art, sir, a great, a curious art, and I +flatter myself I am somewhat of a master therein." + +All this time he had kept me in his eye, and the point of his rapier was +ready for my slightest move. It had grieved me to the heart to hear him +shame this noble woman so, bargaining for her honour as lightly as a +marketing housewife chaffers for a pullet. How she had felt it, I could +judge in part by the deathly paleness of her face, and the tight hold she +was keeping on herself. She dropped into her chair again and buried her +face in her hands. He only smiled as one who presages a welcome triumph. I +kept still and silent, never moving my eyes from his, praying and waiting +for my second. + +She raised her head and spoke again: "If I did not know you, my lord, I +would plead with you. Two men's lives are in my hands, you say, and there +is"--she paused--"but one way"--another terrible pause--"of saving them." + +"You want me to throw in the cattle-drover?" he asked gaily. + +"Yes," she replied, in a scarcely audible whisper. + +"It's throwing in five hundred acres of land each of which my father +values at a Jew's eye, let me tell you, but, egad, Margaret, you're not +dear even at that. Run away home, Farmer Wheatman, and don't be fool +enough to play the rebel again." + +I sat still and silent. Speech was useless, and action not yet possible. +That keen swordsman's eye must be diverted somehow. There was a God in +heaven, and the rabbit-stew would be ready soon. It was useless to attempt +to force matters. And as for his taunts, well, he was but feathering my +arrows. So I sat on like a stone. + +"Go, Master Wheatman," she urged faintly, but I did not even turn to look +at her. My heart was thumping on my ribs, my nerves tingling, my muscles +involuntarily tightening for a spring. + +"These yokels are so dull and lifeless, Margaret. He cannot understand +our impatience." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crimson to the +roots of her hair at this vicious insult. "Off, my man," he added to me, +"or I'll prick your bull's hide." He thrust out his rapier to give point +to the threat. Nothing moved me. My eyes were glued to his. + +And now the door on his right hand opened, and little Mistress +Marry-me-quick appeared with our supper. She saw the sword directed at the +breast of the one man on earth she loved with all the fervour of her +honest, womanly heart. The sight scattered her senses. With a +nerve-racking shriek she flopped heavily to the floor, and the rabbit-stew +flew from her hands and crashed loudly at his feet. It was too much for his +wine-sodden nerves. His eyes turned, his body slackened, the point of his +rapier flagged floorward. God had given me my second. + +I bounded at him, not straight, but somewhat to his left. He recovered, +but, anticipating a straight rush, thrust clean out on the expected line +of my leap. His blade ran through between my coat and waistcoat, and the +guard thumped sore on my ribs. Then he was mine. + +I struck hard on heart and belt and knocked the wind out of his body. He +sucked for breath like a drowning man. Now he could not call for help, and +I finished him off, quickly, gladly, and smilingly. His twitching fingers +fumbled at his belt as if seeking a pistol. Finding none, he made no +further attempt to defend himself, and covered his face with his arms to +keep off my blows, but I struck him with such fierce strength on his +unprotected temples that he weakened and dropped them. His ghastly, +bleeding face turned upwards, his dazed eyes pleading for the mercy he had +denied her a moment ago. It was brute appealing to brute in vain, and with +one last blow on the chin that drove his teeth together like the crack of +a pistol and nearly tore his head off his shoulders, I knocked him +senseless to the floor. + +His rapier hung in the skirt of my coat, so close had I been to sure and +sudden death. I drew it out and tossed it to the floor at his side. "I +wish, madam," said I, reaching out for mother's domino, "that we could +have saved the rabbit-stew." + +"Is he dead?" she whispered, with white lips, coming forward and looking +shudderingly down on him with troubled eyes. + +"No such luck," said I. "He may be round in five minutes, but that's +enough, though poor little Marry-me-quick will have to be left to fend for +herself." I helped her into the domino, pulled the hood over the wonderful +hair, and seized my own hat. + +"Now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "the northern halt of Staffordshire is +before us, and the sooner some of it is behind us the better." With these +words I led her to the door, which I closed carefully behind me, and into +the street. + +A little explanation will make our subsequent movements clearer. The +eastern side of Stafford is roughly bow-shaped. The main street is the +straight string and the wood is the curve of the wall, now mostly fallen +down and in ruins, the line of which was followed by the street we were +in, and only some fifty yards from the southern end of the string. The +marksman's thumb represents the market square, and the arrow the line of +the east gate street. + +No cat in the town knew it better than I did, or could travel it better +in the dark. Indeed, our only danger now came from the moon, but, +fortunately, she had not yet climbed very high. Mistress Waynflete placed +her arm in mine and we turned to the right, away from the still noisy and +crowded main street. We passed an ale-house bursting with customers, the +central figure among whom, plainly visible from the street, was Pippin +Pat, an Irishman with so huge a head that he had become a celebrity under +this name for miles around. He had made himself rolling drunk and, +suitably to the occasion, had been made into a Highlander by the simple +process of robbing him of his breeches and rubbing his head with ruddle. +He was a sorry sight enough, but, the main thing, he had attracted an +enormous company. I rejoiced to see him, for it meant that the wicket of +his master's tanyard, half a stone's throw ahead, would be unbolted. This +would save us a longish detour and lessen the danger of being observed. + +Arrived at the tanyard gate, I tried the wicket. It was unbolted, as I +had anticipated, and we were soon in the quiet and obscurity of the +tanyard. The far side of the yard was separated by a low stone wall from +the end of a blind alley leading into Eastgate Street. I guided my +companion safely by the edges of the tan-pits, and on arriving at the +wall, I made no apology but lifted her on to it. As she sat there a shaft +of moonlight lit up her fine, brave face. I feasted my eyes upon it for a +moment, and then made to leap over to assist her to the other side, but +she stayed me with a hand on each shoulder. + +"I will go no farther, Master Wheatman," she said in a low, troubled +voice, "till you forgive me." + +"Forgive you?" I cried, astounded. "Forgive you? What for?" + +"For thinking meanly of you. I thought you were afraid of Brocton. Not +until that lion leap of yours did I realize how cleverly and nobly you had +sat there through his insults, foreseeing the exact moment when you could +master him. My only explanation, I do not offer it as an excuse, is that +the utter beast in Brocton makes it hard for me to think well of any man. +Oh, believe me, I am ashamed, confounded, and miserable. Say you forgive +me!" + +"Madam," I said laughingly, "the next time I play the knight-errant, may +God send me a less observant damsel. There's nothing to forgive. The plain +truth is that I was frightened, a little bit. But I'm new to this sort of +thing, and I hope to improve." Then, after a pause, I met her eyes full +with mine and added, "As we go on." + +"Frightened," she said scornfully, "you frightened, you who leaped +unarmed on the best swordsman in London? No, don't mock me, Master +Wheatman, forgive me." + +"Of course I do, and thank you for your kind words. And we've both got +some one to forgive." + +She smiled radiantly--"Whom? And what for?" + +I leaped over the wall, and put my arms around her to lift her down. + +"Marry-me-quick, for dropping the rabbit-stew." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL + + +We slipped down the blind alley and came out in the street leading to the +East Gate. There was still great plenty of people strolling up and down, +for night had not yet killed off the novelty and excitement caused by the +arrival of the army. The smaller houses were crowded with soldiery, +hob-nobbing with the folk on whom they were billeted, and all were yelling +out, "Let the cannakin clink!" and other rowdy ditties in the intervals of +drinking. At the East Gate itself, a fire blazed, and pickets warmed +themselves round it, while along the street late-coming baggage and +ammunition wagons were trailing wearily. It was idle to expect to pass +unseen, so we plunged into the throng, threaded through the wagons, and +skirted leftward till we arrived at a quieter street running down to the +line of the wall. + +Here every brick and stone was as a familiar friend, for the little +grammar school backed on to the wall at the very spot where the main +street led through the old north gate of the town. Old Master Bloggs lived +in a tiny house on the side of the school away from the gate. There were +the candles flickering in the untidy den in which the old man passed all +his waking hours out of school-time, and there, I doubted not, they would +be guttering away if the Highlanders sacked the town. I led the way across +the little fore-court, paled off from the street by wooden railings, +gently opened the door, and walked in to the dark passage. + +The study door was ajar, and we peeped in. There the old, familiar figure +was, eyesight feebler, shoulders rounder, hair whiter, and clothing +shabbier than of yore, crumpled over a massive folio. He was reading +aloud, in a monotonous, squeaky half-pitch. Latin hexameters they were, +for even his voice could not hide all the music in them, and as I listened +it became clear that the old man had that night been moved to select +something appropriate to the occasion, for he was going through the +account of the fall of Troy in the second Aeneid. + +I put my fingers on my lips and crept on, followed by Mistress Waynflete. +In the little back room I whispered, "My old school and schoolmaster. We +will not disturb the old man. Poor little Marry-me-quick may have to +suffer on our account, and old Bloggs shall at any rate have the excuse of +knowing nothing about us. He's happy enough over the fall of Troy. Nothing +that he can do can help us. Let him be." + +She nodded assent and I looked round. Opening a cupboard, I found half a +loaf of bread, a nipperkin of milk, and a rind of cheese. "Eat," said I, +"and think it's rabbit-stew." I made her take all the milk, but shared the +bread and cheese. Troy went on falling steadily meanwhile, and when we had +finished our scanty nuncheon I once more led the way, and we passed out +into the little yard behind the schoolhouse, and gained the playground, +the outer boundary of which was the town wall, here some twelve feet high +and in a fair state of preservation. Many generations of schoolboys had +cut and worn a series of big notches on each side of the wall, and by long +practice I could run up and down in a trice to fetch ball or tipcat which +had been knocked over. + +From the bridge at the Hanyards onwards, Mistress Waynflete had always +acted promptly and exactly to my wish. I felt a boor, and was in truth a +boor, in comparison with her. Brocton's 'yokel blood' gibe had put murder +into my blows, but it had truth enough in it to make it rankle like a +poisoned arrow. Yet here was this wonder-woman, trustful as a child and +meeker than a milkmaid. My work was new, but at any rate I had sometimes +dreamed that I could do a man's work when I got my chance, and I had limbs +of leather and steel to do it with. My thoughts, however, were newer +still, and had no background of daydreams to stand against. Moreover, +things had gone with such a rush that I had had no time to shake and sift +them into order. At the foot of that wall all I knew, and that but dimly, +was that there were thoughts that made a man's work the one thing worth +living for. + +"Get your breath, madam," said I. "You want it all now, and there's no +need to hurry." + +She leaned easily against the wall, and peered round to make out her +surroundings. The only result could be to give her the impression that she +was cooped up like a rat in a trap, but with characteristic indifference +for herself, she only said: + +"And this was your school?" + +"For many years, seven or more." + +She was silent for a time and then went on. + +"You have led a quiet life, Master Wheatman?" + +"Ha," thought I, "she's gauging my capacity to help her," and added +aloud, bitterly reminiscent, "The life of a yokel, madam." + +"You have read much?" + +"Yes, I'm fond of reading. It passes the long winter nights." + +"And no doubt you know by heart the merry gests of Robin Hood and the +admirable exploits of Claude Duval?" + +I felt her eyes on me in the dark, and longed for the sun so that I could +see the blue glint in them. + +"No such rubbish, indeed," said I hotly. It was a slight on Master +Bloggs, droning away yonder at the fall of Troy, not to say the sweet old +vicar. + +"What then?" + +"Livy and Caesar, and stuff like that, but mainly Virgil." + +"Then it's very, very curious," she whispered emphatically. + +No doubt yokel blood ought not to run like wine under the mighty pulse of +Virgil, and I sourly asked, "What's curious, madam? Old Bloggs has nothing +to teach except Latin, and I happened to take to it. Why curious?" + +"Really, Master Wheatman, not curious? Here we are in a narrow yard at +the foot of a high wall. I'm perfectly certain that within five minutes I +shall be whisked over to the other side. And you got that out of Virgil?" + +"Straight out of Virgil, madam. Stafford was our Troy, and this the wall +thereof. I've got in and out thousands of times." + +She peered comically around the dark playground and said gaily, "I see no +wooden horse. There should be one, I know. Master Dryden says so, and he +knows all about Virgil." + +"Poof," said I. "If old Bloggs heard you, he'd tingle to thrash you black +and blue." + +"He couldn't now I've got my breath again," she laughed. + +"I'm glad of that. Let me explain. Here is a ladder of notches in the +wall, left and right alternately. Feel for them." She did so, and I went +on: "They are roughly three feet apart on each side. I'll climb up first +and assist you up the last few. Your skirts will trouble you, I fear." + +"Not much, for I'll turn them up." She promptly did so, and fastened the +edges round her waist. She also discarded the long, cumbrous domino, and I +took it from her. + +"Watch me," said I, "and follow when I give the word. I'll have a look +round first." + +Up I went, hand over hand, as easily as ever I had done it. I crouched +down on the top of the wall, which, fortunately, lay in the shadow of the +schoolhouse. I saw in the sky the reflected glare of a fire at the north +gate, another picket I supposed, but there were houses without the gate, +and these were dark and silent. There was no fear of our being observed. + +"Come!" I whispered. + +She started boldly and came up with cheering swiftness. I spread the +domino in readiness, then stretched down to help her, and in another +moment she was sitting the wall as a saddle. + +"Splendid, for a novice," I said. + +"And a novice in skirts, short ones." + +She went first down the other side, and I nearly pitched headlong in +assisting her as far down as possible. She lowered her skirts while I +followed and then I helped her into the domino, rejoicing in the silken +caress of her hair on my hands as I arranged the hood, a pleasant piece of +officiousness for which I got thanks I did not deserve, and off we started. + +Again she asked nothing as to what we were going to do and whither we +were bound. The blazing windows of a comfortable inn might have been in +sight for aught she cared to all outward seeming. Yet here she was, close +on midnight, in bitterly cold weather, stepping out into rough and unknown +country in company with a man she had only known a few hours. + +I went ahead and thought it over. For ten minutes we picked our way in +the deep shadow along the foot of the wall, _per opaca locorum_, as +the great weaver of words puts it, and then I turned outwards into the +open field and the clear moonlight. Of her own accord she placed her arm +in mine, and we stepped it out bravely together. + +"We are in unenclosed land here," I explained. "On our right is a patch +which varies between bog and marsh and pool, according to the rains. The +townsmen call it the King's Pool, whatever state it is in. Just ahead, you +can see the line of it, is a little stream, the Pearl Brook. If it isn't +frozen over yet, I can easily carry you across, as it's not more than six +inches deep. The freemen of the Ancient Borough--yon little town has +slumbered there nearly eight hundred years--have, by immemorial custom, +the right of fishing in the Pearl Brook with line and bent pin." + +"They do not catch many thirty-pound jack, I suppose?" + +"Dear me, no. But it was here I learned to like fishing, and I went on +from minnows and jacksharps to pike." + +"And wandering damsels," she interrupted, with a laugh that sounded to me +like the music of silver bells. A minute later, on the edge of the brook, +she said vexedly, "And it's not frozen over." But I had already noticed +that fact with great elation. + +"Not more than six inches, you say," she muttered, and made to step in. + +"And if it were not so much as six barley-corns," I said, "I would not +suffer you to wade it. What am I for, pray you, madam?" + +Without more ado, I lifted her once more in my arms--the fourth time that +day--and started. I cursed the narrowness of the Pearl Brook. I could +almost have hopped across it, but by dawdling aslant the stream I had her +sweet face near mine in the moonlight, and my arms round her proud body, +for a couple of minutes. "Yokel blood or not," I thought, "this is +something my Lord Brocton will never do." + +A quarter of an hour later, after helping her up a short, steep scarp, we +stood and looked back on the little town. Its roofs were bathed in +moonlight, and the great church tower stood out in grey against the +blue-black sky. Patches of dull, ruddy glow in the sky marked the sites of +the picket-fires, and there came to us, like the gibbering of ghosts in +the wind, the dying notes of the day's excitement. To our left, bits of +silver ribbon marked the twistings of the river, and that darker line in +the distant darkness was the hills of my home and boyhood. At their feet +was the Hanyards, and Kate and mother. There was a little mist in my eyes, +and the eyes I turned and looked into were brimming with tears. + +"And now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "let us on to our inn." + +"Our inn!" she echoed, and there was dismay in her voice. "Our inn, and I +haven't a pennypiece. For safety, I put my hat, my riding jacket, and my +purse under the bed at Marry-me-quick's, and the fight and hurry drove +them out of my mind completely." + +"And I'm in the same case exactly," said I, and laughed outright. I had +little use for money at the Hanyards, least of all in the pockets of my +Sunday best, and not until she told me her plight did I realize the fact +that in the elation of starting from home, I had forgotten that money +might be necessary. Though I laughed, I watched her closely. Now she would +break down. No woman's heart could stand the shock. + +"My possessions," she said, "are precisely two handkerchiefs, one of +Madame du Pont's washballs, and most of a piece of the famous +marry-me-quick." + +I had been mistaken. She made no ado about our serious situation, but +spoke with a grave humour that fetched me greatly. + +"Quite a lengthy inventory," I replied. "My contributions to the common +stock are--" and I fumbled in my pockets--"item, one handkerchief; item, +a pocket-knife; item, one pipe and half a paper of tobacco; item, one +flask, two-thirds full of Mistress Kate Wheatman's priceless peppermint +cordial, the sovereign remedy against fatigue, cold, care, and the +humours; item, something unknown which has been flopping against my hip +and is, by the outward feel of it, a thing to rejoice over, to wit, one of +Kate's pasties." + +I pushed my hand down for it, and then laughed louder than ever, as I +drew forth my dumpy little Virgil. + +"Item," I concluded, "the works of the divine master, P. Vergilius Maro, +hidden in my pocket by that mischievous minx and monkey, Kate Wheatman of +the Hanyards." And I told the story. + +"Then if Kate had not hidden your beloved Virgil, you would not have gone +fishing?" + +"I'm sure I shouldn't." + +"Life turns on trifles, Master Wheatman, and to a pretty girl's sisterly +jest I owe everything that has happened since I first saw you on the river +bank." + +"We owe it, madam," I corrected gently, and I turned to go on, for I saw +that she was moved and troubled at the evil she thought she had brought on +me. Evil! I was enjoying every breath I drew and every step I took, and my +heart was like a live coal in the midst of my bosom. + +"Have no fear, Mistress Margaret," said I cheerfully, sweeping my hand +out. "There's broad Staffordshire before us, a goodly land full of meat +and malt and money, and we'll have our share of it." + +"But you'll have to steal it for me." + +"'Convey the wise it call," "I quoted. + +"That's better," and she smiled up at me in the moonlight. "Virgil puts +you right above my poor wits, but say you love Shakespeare too, and we +shall have one of the great things of life in common." + +"I do, madam, but you must learn to rate things at their true value. You +speak French?" + +"Oh yes." + +"And Italian?" + +"Yes." + +"And play the harpsichord?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, madam, I am a half-educated boor compared with you, for I know +none of these things. But though I do not know the French or Italian for +marry-me-quick, if you will get it out of your pocket, I'll show you the +Staffordshire for half of it." + +We marched on gaily for another quarter of an hour, eating the sweet +morsel. Then I said, "Even an old traveller and campaigner like you will +be glad to learn that our inn is at hand." + +"Very glad, but I see no signs of it." + +"Well, no," said I, "it's not exactly an inn, but just a plain barn. You +shall sleep soft and safe and warm, though, and even if we had money and +an inn was at hand, it would be foolish to go there. Your case is hard, +madam, and I wish I could offer you better quarters." + +Under the shelter of a round knoll clumped with pines, lay an ancient +farmhouse. We were approaching it from the front, and its sheds and barns +were at the rear. We therefore turned into the field and fetched a +circuit, and soon stood at the gate leading into the farmyard. No one +stirred, not even a dog barked, as I softly opened the gate and crept, +followed by Mistress Waynflete, to the nearest building. I pushed open the +door, we entered a barn, and were safe for the night. The moon shone +through the open door, and I saw that the barn was empty, probably because +the year's crops, as I knew to my sorrow, had been poor indeed in our +district. The fact that the barn was bare told in our favour, as no farm +hand would be likely to come near it should one be stirring before us next +morning. + +A rick stood handy in the yard, and on going to it I found that three or +four dasses of hay had been carved out ready for removal to the stalls. I +carried them to the shed, one by one, and mighty hot I was by the time I +dumped the last on the barn floor. Starting off again, I poached around in +another shed, and was lucky enough to find a pile of empty corn sacks. +Spreading these three or four deep in the far corner of the barn, I +covered them thickly with hay, and having reserved a sack on purpose, I +stuffed it loosely with hay to serve for a pillow. + +All this busy time Mistress Waynflete stood on the moonlit door-sill, +silent as a mouse, and when I stole quietly up to tell her all was ready, +I saw that her hands were clasped in front and her lips moved. I bared my +head and waited, for she had transformed this poor barn into a maiden's +sanctuary. + +She turned her face towards me. "Madam," said I, very quietly, "your bed +is ready, and you are tired out and dead for sleep. Pray come!" + +Still silent, she stepped up and examined my rude handiwork. Then she +curled herself up on the hay, and I covered her with more hay till she lay +snug enough to keep out another Great Frost. + +"Good night, madam, and sweet sleep befall you," and I was turning away. + +"Ho!" she said, "and pray where do you propose to sleep?" + +"I shall nest under the rick-straddle." + +"Sir," and her tone was almost unpleasant, "for the modesty you attribute +unto me, I thank you. For the gratitude you decline to attribute unto me, +I dislike you. But pray give me credit for a little common sense. I shall +desire your services in the morning, and I do not want to find you under a +rick, frozen to a fossil." + +"No, madam." + +She sprang out of bed, tumbling the hay in all directions. + +"Master Wheatman, I will not pretend to misunderstand you, and indeed, I +thank you, but you are going to put your bed here," stamping her foot, "so +that we can talk without raising our voices. I am much more willing to +sleep in the same barn with you than in the same town with my Lord +Brocton. Where's your share of the sacks?" + +I did without sacks, but I fetched more chunks of hay, and she helped me +strew a bed for myself close up to her own. I tucked her up once more, and +then made myself cosy. I was miserable lest I should snore. Yokels so +often do. Joe Braggs, for instance, would snore till the barn door rattled. + +I remembered the cordial, and we each had a good pull at the flask. I +felt for days the touch of her smooth, soft fingers on mine as she took it. + +"It certainly does warm you up," she said. "I feel all aglow without and +within." + +"Then I may take it that you are comfortable?" + +"If it were not for two things, I should say this was a boy-and-girl +escapade of ours, every moment of which was just pure enjoyment." + +"Naturally you are uneasy about your father, but I cannot think he will +come to any immediate harm. Why Brocton should send him north instead of +south is, I confess, a mystery, but to-morrow will solve it. And what else +makes you uneasy?" + +"You," she replied, very low and brief. + +"I? And pray, madam, what have I done to make you uneasy?" + +"Met me." Still the same tone. + +"I am not able to talk to you in the modish manner, nor do I think you +would wish me to try to ape my betters, so I say plainly that our meeting +has not made me uneasy. Why then you?" + +"Had you not met me, you would now be asleep at the Hanyards, a free and +happy country gentleman. Instead you are here, a suspect, a refugee, an +outlaw, one tainted with rebellion, the jail for certain if you are +caught, and then--" + +She broke off abruptly, and I think I heard a low sob. + +"And then?" + +"Perhaps the gibbet." + +"It's true that the thieving craft is a curst craft for the gallows, but +to-morrow's trouble is like yesterday's dinner, not worth thinking on. We +are here, safe and comfortable. Let that suffice. And to-day, so far from +doing harm at which you must needs be uneasy, you have wrought a miracle." + +"Wrought a miracle? What do you mean?" + +"You have found a cabbage, and made a man. Good night, Mistress Waynflete." + +"Good night, Master Wheatman." + +I imitated the regular breathing of a tired, sleeping man. In a few +minutes it became clear that she was really asleep, and I pretended no +longer, but stretched out comfortably in the fragrant hay and soon slept +like a log. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE CONJURER'S CAP + + +I awoke between darkness and daylight. Mistress Waynflete still slept +peacefully and there was as yet no need to rouse her. I had slept in my +shoes, but now, I drew them off, lifted the bar of the door, and stole out +to look around. Not a soul was stirring about the farm, and the only +living creature in sight was a sleepy cock, which scuttled off noisily at +my approach. I entered a cowshed, where a fine, patient cow turned a +reproachful eye on me, as if rebuking me for my too early visit. I +cheerily clucked and slapped her on to her hoofs, and then, failing to +find any sort of cup or can, punched my hat inside out and filled it with +warm foaming milk. With this spoil I hurried back to our quarters. + +I had to leave the door open, and this gave me light enough to look more +closely at my companion. She was still sleeping, her face calmly content, +and so had she slept through the night, for the coverlet of hay was rising +and falling undisturbed on her breast. It was now time to wake her, and, +having no free hand, I knelt down to nudge her with my elbow. As I did so, +her face changed. A look of concern came over it, then one of hesitation, +then a sweet smile, chasing each other as gleam chases gloom across the +meadows on an April day. She was dreaming, dreaming pleasantly, and it was +to a hard world that I awakened her. + +At my second nudge she half-opened her eyes and murmured, "It's very +wide." Then my greeting aroused her fully, and she blushed wondrous red +and beautiful. + +"Good morrow, Mistress Waynflete," said I. "I grieve to disturb you, and, +pray you, do not move too abruptly or over goes the breakfast." + +"Good morrow, Master Oliver," she replied. "I have slept well. I feel as +if I've quite enjoyed it. We do enjoy sleep, I think, sometimes." + +"Or the dreams it brings, madam." + +She glanced quickly at me, as if afraid that I had the power of reading +dream-thoughts, and gaily said, "And breakfast ready! This is even better +than the Paris fashion. What is it? More of dear Kate's cordial?" + +I did not know what the Paris fashion of breakfast was, and she did not +enlighten me. Anyhow, I, the yokel, had improved on it, and that was +something. + +"A far better brewage, madam," I said, "but you must pardon the +Staffordshire fashion of serving it." + +She sat up, took the cap, and drank heartily, the dawn still in her eyes +and cheeks, and masses of yellow hair tumbling down from under her hood on +throat and bosom. When she handed back the cap, I could not forbear from +saying, "You look charming after your night's rest, and I profess that +tear of milk on the tip of your nose becomes you admirably." With the rim +of my cap at my lips, I added with mock concern, "Have a care, Mistress +Waynflete, or you'll rub off tip as well as tear." + +"I suppose you thought 'As a jewel of gold' and the rest of it," she +said, squinting comically down to examine her nose. + +"Really, no, madam; I thought of nothing so scandalous, from the Bible +though it be. I thought of--of...." + +"I'm all ears," she said archly. + +"I'm a poor hand at turning compliments to ladies," said I. + +"On the contrary, you turn them admirably. See!" She held up my sopping +cap, and laughed merrily. + +"It's ruined for best," said I, "but it will do for market days. And now, +madam, it's cold enough to freeze askers, as Joe Braggs says, and for +toilet you must e'en be content with first a shiver and then a shake. I +will await you at the yard gate, and pray close the door behind you. The +quicker the better." + +She rejoined me in two or three minutes. I closed the gate cautiously +behind me, and we started our journey. From the farm we got away quite +unobserved, but I looked behind me at every other step to make surer, till +we turned the top of the knoll, and it was with great relief that I saw +the chimney-pots sink out of sight. + +For a time we walked along briskly and in silence. So far I had carried +everything with a high hand and successfully, but the cold grey of the +morning began to creep into my thoughts as I looked ahead over miles and +miles of dreariness and danger. Houses were few and far between; every +village was a source of danger; the high roads were closed to us by our +fear of the troops. Further, the object we had in view was vague and +unformed, if not impossible of achievement, for even if we arrived at the +very place where Colonel Waynflete was held prisoner, what could we do to +help him? We should be safe from immediate need and danger if we could +reach the Prince's army, but where that was, and which way it was +travelling, were unknown to us. Certain it was that between us and any +real help ranged some thirty miles of cold, bleak country packed with +enemies for miles ahead. And here we were, on foot, penniless and hungry. +I had longed for a man's work; this was a regiment's. + +A sidelong look at my companion drove all the mist and frost out of my +heart. Something about her made me feel a sneak and a traitor even for +harbouring such thoughts. From the first she had asked for no help of +mine. I had forced it on her, or circumstances had forced me to help her +in helping myself, as when I cut our way from Marry-me-quick's cottage. +The more I was with her, the better I began to understand Brocton's +madness. It was the madness of the mere brute in him to be sure, and a man +should kick the brute in him into its kennel, though he cannot at times +help hearing it whine. Her majestic beauty had dazzled him as a flame +dazzles a moth, but at this stage, at any rate, it was not her beauty that +made me her thrall. That I could have withstood. Because she was so +beautiful, so stately, so compelling, she made no appeal to me. What I +mean is, that I did not fall in love with her at first sight, simply +because the mere stupidity of such a thing kept me from doing it. +Glow-worms do not fall in love with stars or thistles with sycamores. She +was something to be worshipped, served at any cost, saved at any +sacrifice, but not loved. No, that was for some lucky one of her own class +and state, not for a simple squireling like me. Her comradeship, her +graciousness, her sweet equalizing of our positions, were, I felt, just +the simple, natural adornments of the commanding modesty which was her +spiritual garment. + +Manlike, however, I had an evil streak in me, and thence, later, came +madness. In any company I must be top dog. I had been head of the school, +not because of any special cleverness, but because I would burst rather +than be second to anybody in anything. I had fought and fought, at all +hazards, until not a boy in school or town dare come near me. So now, +since my Lord Brocton--and many a lord beside, I doubted not--had failed, +I must needs step in and say, "I will please her, whether she like it or +not." And so, plain countryman as I was, I had done my work ungrudgingly +but not, I feared, too modestly, and since I could not speak court-like, I +had been over-masterful, and given her mood for mood, and turned no cheek +for her sweet smiting. And as I had of old time licked every lad in +Stafford, so now neither Staffordshire nor all the King's men in it should +turn me back. Through she should go, and in safety and comfort, so that +when the time came for me to hand over my precious charge to a worthier, +she should say that the yokel had done a man's work and done it +gentlemanly. Therefore, when Mistress Waynflete looked up to me from the +bleak uplands with serious, questioning eyes, I said, as calmly as if we +were pacing the garden at the Hanyards, with Kate and Jane active in the +kitchen behind us, "Ham and eggs for breakfast!" + +"I don't see any," she said, in answering mood, scanning the fields +around us. "Not that that matters. I didn't see the steps, but they were +there. You make me think, Master Wheatman, of a Turk I saw in a booth at +Vienna, who drew rabbits and rose-bushes out of an empty hat. +Staffordshire is your conjurer's hat. And I do like ham and eggs." + +My assurance and her comfortable belief in it made us both brighter, and +we stepped out merrily. She gave me an entertaining account of Vienna, +where she had spent some months, and which was then the great outpost of +Christendom against the Turk. When this talk had brought us on to the +field of Hopton Heath, I gave her the best account I could of the battle +there in the Civil War time, and of the slaying of the Marquis of +Northampton. And this led me on to my pride of ancestry, and I told her of +Captain Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, a tower of strength to the +Parliament in these parts, who fought here and later on Naseby Field +itself. Many tales I told of him that had been handed down from one +generation of us to another, and how so greatly was he taken with his +incomparable lord-general that he had named his first-born son Oliver, and +ever since there had been an Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. Then I told +how one of these later Olivers, which one a matter of no consequence, had +written verses and put them into the mouth of the doughty +Smite-and-spare-not, sitting his horse, stark and strong, at the head of +his men on Naseby Field, and gazing with grim, grey eyes on the opening +movements of the fight. And, nothing loth, I trolled them out roundly +across the meadows, till the peewits screamed and a distant dog began to +bay: + + "Princelet and king, and mitre and ring, + Earl and baron and squire, + Oliver worries 'em, harries and flurries 'em, + With siege and slaughter and fire. + With the arm of the Flesh and the sword of the Spirit, + Push of pike and the Word, + Smiting and praying, and praising and slaying, + Oliver fights for the Lord. + With the sword He brought the work is wrought, + We finish here to-day. + When yon rags and remnants of Babylon + Are blown and battered away. + + Hurrah for the groans of 'em, soon shall the bones of 'em, + _Steady!_ Hell-rakers at large, + Rot under the sod. _Pass the word: 'God_ + _Is our strength?'_ There goes Oliver. _Charge!_" + +When I had done she applauded so that my face burned until I was +discommoded and fell into her trap. + +"I wish you'd written them, Master Wheatman." + +"Well, I did," said I grumpily, not liking to be bereft of any little +glory in her eyes. + +"What, you?" Her eyebrows arched and her lips curled. "You, oh, never. +'Smiting and praying'? 'The arm of the Flesh and the sword of the +Spirit.'" She mouthed the words deliciously. + +"But, doubtless, when you see my Lord Brocton again, you'll put in the +Word and the praying." Here her sweet voice trailed off into a dainty +snuffle: "'My dear lord, since out of the mouths of babes and sucklings +proceedeth wisdom, hearken, I pray you, unto me, Oliver Wheatman, to wit +of the Hanyards, and amend ye your ways lest I hit you over your cockscomb +again, and very much harder than before. Repent ye, my lord, for the hour +is at hand, and if you don't, I'll thump you into one of our Kate's +blackberry jellies.' And here endeth the goodly discourse of that saintly +rib-roaster, Master Hit-him-first-and-then-pray-for-him Wheatman of the +Hanyards." + +It was simply glorious to be so tormented by this witch with the dancing +blue eyes. + +"For this scandalous contempt of the Muses," said I soberly, "I shall +punish you by frizzling your share of the ham to a cinder." + +During my schoolboy days I had roamed the countryside till I knew it as +an open book, and this minute knowledge was our salvation now. The +immediate need was food, and food obtained without price and without our +being observed by anyone. At seven o'clock on a hard winter morning in +open country, this seemed to require a miracle. As a matter of fact, it +was as easy as shelling peas. + +Since crossing the heath we had been travelling nearer to one of the main +roads, that leading out of the east gate to the town, and now we got our +first glimpse of it lying like a broad, brown ribbon half-way down the +slope of a very steep hill. In the upper half, this hill was pretty well +wooded and the road cut clean through the wood, but between us and the +wood there lay the level crest of the hill, cut by hedges into several +fields, and crossed by a rough cart-track leading past a roomy, +one-storied cottage, grey-walled and brown-thatched, and on through the +wood into the main road. The cottage, with its outbuildings, made a +little farmstead, and here lived Dick Doley and his wife Sal, who did a +little farming, but mainly lived by huckstering. Today was market-day at +Stafford, and unless they had broken the routine of half a lifetime, they +would now be packing their little cart with marketables and soon be off +for the town. They had neither chick nor child, lad-servant nor lassie, +and they would leave the cottage empty and at our disposal. At this time +of the day I could, of course, have trusted both, but they were very human +bodies of a sort to rejoice the business side of the heart of Joe Braggs, +and it was best not to give them the chance of blabbing later in the day +when, for a moral certainty, they would both be market fresh. Besides, it +was unfair to thrust myself on the kindness of anyone. I had more than +once wondered what had happened to poor little Marry-me-quick. + +I scrambled through the hedge and peeped down the road. I was right. Dick +and his wife were busy loading up. So we waited behind the hedge till they +had cleared off, and indeed did not move till I saw them and their cart +pass along the road at the foot of the hill. + +Time has not blurred the memory of a single detail of our stay in this +welcome house of refuge, but the telling of what was moving and charming +to me would, I fear, bore others. There was a ham, two indeed, and +flitches beside, in the rack hanging from the ceiling, and there were eggs +--three, to be precise--in the larder, to which, by equal good luck +considering the time of the year, I added two more by a raid into the +hen-house. It was all natural and simple enough, but Mistress Waynflete +hailed their production almost as amazedly as if I had indeed drawn them +out of my hat. But how I fetched and carried, chopped wood and drew water, +swept the floor and laid the table, fried ham and boiled eggs, doing all +these things with music in my heart and a noisy song on my lips--is +everything to me and nothing to my tale. + +Mistress Waynflete had disappeared into one of the three or four rooms of +which the house consisted, to make herself presentable, as she absurdly +put it. When the table was laid and the ham cooked, I halloed the news to +her, and rushed off to the shed to attend to my outward appearance. I did +want it, being indeed not far short of filthy. + +Perhaps I hurried unexpectedly. At any rate, on returning I found +Mistress Waynflete bending over something on the hearth. Straightening +herself hastily, and with a pretty confusion, at my approach, she cried, +"Oh, Master Oliver, the ham was burning, and you threatened my share of +it, you know!" + +I could not reply. Down to her hips her rich amber hair flowed like a +bridal veil, and from amid a wealth of snowy lace, fluttering on the orbed +glory of perfect womanhood, her neck rose smooth and stately as a shaft of +alabaster. Her cheeks crimsoned with maiden shamefastness, but the blue +eyes met mine without a hint of maiden fear, and for that thanks as well +as reverence filled my heart as I bowed to her. Maidenlike, she drew her +golden veil more closely over her bosom, and tripped back to finish her +toilet, leaving me amated and abashed by the vision I had beheld. I think +it was from that moment that my joy in my work began to be mingled with +the despair of my love. Certainly it was a chastened Oliver Wheatman who +placed a chair for her when she came in again for breakfast, and helped +her to the good things a kindly fortune had provided. + +It is my belief that each of us was secretly amused at the steady zeal +with which the other attacked the meal. We wrangled over the odd egg, each +insisting on the other having it, she because I was strong, and needed it, +I because I was strong and could do without it, and finally adopted the +usual compromise. We had more than gone round the clock with barely a +mouthful, and we ate as those who know not where the next meal's meat is +to come from. Frankly, I, at any rate, gave myself a fair margin before +the pinch should come again, and Mistress Waynflete averred that she had +never in her life before eaten so much or so toothsomely. + +Our meal over, I stacked the fire with fresh logs, asked and obtained +permission to smoke a pipe, and made my sweet mistress cosy in the +chimney-corner. Then we began to take stock of our position. + +"There's no good to come of hurrying," said I. "Here we are both snug and +safe, and your night's rest was but short. Let us see where we stand." + +I did not really believe that any amount of talking would help much, but +repose would do her good, and I had a big idea running in and out of my +mind. Our first difficulty, food and rest, had been overcome, and I was +bent on mastering the next. No amount of discussion gave us any key to the +one great mystery. When Brocton had captured Colonel Waynflete at Milford, +the obvious thing to do with him was to send him prisoner to the Duke at +Lichfield. Though the Colonel carried no papers which made his purpose +clear, Brocton knew well what the object of his journey was, and the +suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act put the Colonel in his power. Or, he +might have carried him before a justice of the peace, his friend Master +Dobson for choice, and had him committed to the town jail. The course +actually taken, that of sending him ahead, under guard, in the very van of +the royal army, was to us utterly inexplicable. His mad lust for Mistress +Margaret explained the separation of father and daughter. The thought did +occur to me, though I took great care not to hint at it, that he intended +to make away with the Colonel, and looked to finding tools among his +blackguardly dragoons and an opportunity when in actual conflict with the +Highlanders. I hesitated, however, to believe that Brocton was such a +villain as to commit an unnecessary murder. The plan he had adopted had, +anyhow, this advantage to us that, when we did come into touch with the +prisoner, our chances of assisting him were far greater than if he were in +jail in Stafford or Lichfield. + +Whatever my lord's motives were, it was clear that he was not acting in +the plain, straight-dealing manner to be expected of one in his position. +There were other signs of crookedness, slight but not without weight. I +could understand his joy on finding me at Marry-me-quick's. It meant that +I was a rebel, and as a loyal man, who had gone to expenses to prove his +loyalty, he might easily get the Hanyards as a reward, and thus round off +the family property in our neighbourhood. His reference to a "solatium" +puzzled me, but it did not seem anything of consequence. What had I but +the Hanyards to solace him with? A more important puzzle had been his +behaviour at Master Dobson's. To find me on the royal side, as he then +supposed, and to hear my reason for it, had clean dazed him. Then there +was the look, a signal-look beyond a doubt, which I had surprised him +giving his bully, Major Pimple-face, and which was followed by the +latter's attempt to embroil the stranger from London in a row. + +"It is useless, Master Wheatman, to speculate further on what Lord +Brocton is doing," said my mistress at last. "He has his ends. I am one of +them. Another is, no doubt, to fill his pockets, somehow or other. It was +common talk in town that he was head over ears in debt." + +While we had talked and had rested, I had not been idle. Dick Doley's +roomy kitchen had two windows, one overlooking the cart-track, and another +the slope of the hill. The hill was so made and the house so placed that +from this second window we could see the strip of road at the bottom of +the hill where it curved on to the level again. I had kept a sharp look +out on that bit, but had seen no one pass along it either way as yet. + +In one corner of the room Dick kept an ancient fowling-piece, more of a +tool of husbandry than a weapon, since his only use for it was to scare +birds. It was a heavy, unhandy thing, with a brass barrel down which I +could have dropped a sizable duck egg, and round its thick-rimmed nozzle +some one had rudely graven, "Happy is he that escapeth me." I fetched it +out of its corner, and cleaned and oiled it. I now loaded it, for +powder-horn and shot-bag hung near it on the wall, putting in a handful +of the biggest sort of shot, swan-shot as I should call them. During this +task, Mistress Waynflete watched me narrowly, but made no reference to it. + +"Now," said I, "our main requisite is the stuff, the ready, the rhino, +the swag--call it what you will. How do you fancy me as a knight of the +road? The first copper-faced farmer I come across shall surely stand and +deliver. Here's an argument he cannot resist." + +At last my scrutiny of the road was rewarded. A solitary horseman came in +sight from the direction of the town. + +"Mistress Waynflete," said I, picking up the fowling-piece, "there's a +traveller yonder coming from Stafford. It will be well if I go and ask him +a few questions." + +She almost leaped at me, red anger flashing in her eyes but her face +white as milk. "Sir," she said, "you shall not turn thief for me. I will +not have it." + +"Pray, madam," replied I huffily, "expound the moral difference between +stealing ham and stealing guineas. I'm all for morality." + +"I cannot, Master Wheatman, but you must not, shall not go." She caught +hold of my sleeve. "Say you won't! If you are found out it means--" + +"I shall not be found out. You may take that for sure. Think you that I +cannot pluck yon chough without being pinched? It's no more robbery than +our eating Dick's ham and eggs. We are soldiers in enemy's country, and we +plunder by right of the known rules of war. As a concession to your +prejudices in favour of the jog-trot morality of peace, I will e'en ask +him whether he be for James or George, and borrow or command his guineas +in accordance with his reply. Loose my sleeve, madam!" + +I loosened the grip of her fingers, and led her back to her chair. "You +overrate my danger, sweet mistress, and under rate our need. Without +money, we might as well lie under the nearest hedge and leave Jack Frost +to settle matters his way, and a cold, nasty way it would be. Your guinea +is a good fighter, and we need his help. It must be done, and, never fear, +I'll carry it through safely." + +So I left her, white hands grappling the arms of her chair, and white +face turned away from me. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN + + +I left the cottage from the rear and struck slantwise across the fields +to reach the shelter of the trees and undergrowth that covered the slope +down to the road. I ran hard so as to shake irresolution out of my mind, +for I found myself half wishing that Mistress Waynflete had pleaded with +me at first instead of trying to thrust me out of my plan. After all the +highwayman's was hardly my calling in life. So I ran hard, saying to +myself that it must be done, and the sooner it was over the better. Then I +laughed. With my rusty old birding-piece I was as ill-equipped for +highwaymanship as I was for farming with my Georgics. "Stand and deliver," +quoth I to myself, "or I'll double your weight with swan-shot." Were the +unknown horseman a resolute man armed with a hair-trigger, I was as good +as done for. + +Arrived in the shelter of the wood, I began picking my way through the +thick undergrowth towards the road. Fallen branchlets snapped beneath my +heedless feet and the sounds rang in my ears like pistol-shots. A saucy +robin cocked his care-free eye on me from the top of a crab-tree, and I +could have envied him as I stumbled by. It was perhaps fourscore yards +through, and half-way I stopped to listen. Yes, there came to my ear the +slow trot-ot-ot of hoofs on the hard road. I went on again until, through +the leafless tangle, I began to get glimpses of the highway. My fate was +dragging me on. In a month's time my shrivelling carcase might be swinging +in chains on the top of Wes'on Bank, an ensample to evil-doers. The +thought made me shiver, and I jerked out a broken prayer that my intended +victim might turn out some fat, unarmed farmer, as easy a prey as an +over-fed gander. Then I cursed myself for a fool. No man can mortgage past +piety for present sin. Who was I that I should be allowed to steal on good +security? + +Trot-ot-ot. Trot-ot-ot. He was within easy shot now, and I stopped to +make sure of my rickety old weapon. A dragoon's musket would not have +needed such constant care. "Life turns on trifles," said Mistress +Waynflete. + +In lifting my eyes from the priming to move on again, something in the +line of vision made me start. On my left, less than a dozen paces from me, +there lay on the ground, on a clean patch beneath a conspicuously-forked +hawthorn, a man's jacket and plumed hat. + +A lion playing with a lamb would not have given me pause more abruptly. I +stole silently up to them. They were fine but somewhat faded garments, +modish and even foppish, and, so far as I could distinguish any +peculiarity, military in appearance, and evidently belonged to a person of +some quality. Nor had they been flung there in haste, for the coat was +neatly folded and the hat disposed carefully on top of it. How long had +they been there? I picked up the hat, and there was still the gloss of +recent sweat on its inside brim. + +This, however, was no time for idle problems, a very urgent one being on +hand. Forward I crept to the side of the road, and, lying flat down on the +ground, pushed the stock of my gun on to the short grass, and peeped +cautiously to my right down the hill. I was about thirty or forty yards +from a bend in the road, and had intended to be much less, but my +discovery and my confused, half-conscious thinking about it, had deflected +me a little from my course. + +Trot-ot-ot. He would be in sight in a few seconds. Trot-ot-ot, plainer +than ever, and there he was. The moment that he was in full view I made an +astonishing discovery, and saw an astonishing sight. + +The discovery was that the solitary horseman, walking his powerful grey +with a slack rein, and lost in thought, was Master Freake. + +The sight was the rush of three men from their lurking-places in the +brushwood. Two of them were soldiers, and Brocton's dragoons at that, a +sample of the town-sweepings Jack had complained of. One seized the reins, +the other held a carbine point-blank at the horseman's head. + +These were plainly deserters or freebooters, acting after their kind, and +they had picked up a strange partner during their foray. He wore a yokel's +smock much too big for him, and yet not big enough to hide his bespurred +riding-boots. On his head he had a dirty tapster's bonnet, and his face +was completely hidden by a rudely-cut crape vizard. This singular person +was evidently the leader of the gang. He threatened Master Freake with a +glittering, long-barrelled pistol, and in gruff, curt tones ordered him to +dismount on pain of instant death. + +Here was a strange overturn to be sure. Here again fate had rudely upset +my plans, and no fat purse would there be for me in this coil. However, +though I would have robbed Master Freake willingly enough, my blood being +up and he a manifest Hanoverian, I was not going to see Brocton's ruffians +rob him, much less kill him. The purse must wait, and when I took it--for +take it I must--God would perchance balance one thing against the other. + +All that I had seen and thought took place in a mere fraction of time, +and even before Master Freake had pulled up, I was creeping like a ferret +from bush to bush to get nearer. Then, just as in his quiet, measured +tones he was asking what they wanted, I burst out into the wood, shouting, +"Forward, my men, here the villains are!" With the words, I fired my +handful of swan-shot clean into the group, and then charged at them +yelling, in boyish imitation of a knight of old, "Happy is he that +escapeth me." + +The two dragoons instantly fled with yelps of pain and terror, and the +horse, squealing with fright, began to rear and plunge madly about the +road. Black Vizard turned on me, his pistol rang out, and the bullet +hissed by my ear. I sprang at him with clubbed gun, and struck hard for +his head, but caught him on the neck as he too turned to flee. He went +down, spinning and sprawling, in the road, right under the plunging horse. +With a squeal that curdled my blood, she rose in the air, kicking +viciously. Her hoofs came down with sickening thuds on the squirming man's +skull, cracking it like an egg-shell. His body twitched once or twice, and +then settled into the stillness of death. + +I seized the horse's rein and soothed her. She let me pat her neck and +rub her nose, and soon stood quiet, her neck flecked with foam, her flanks +reeking with sweat. Master Freake, who had not spoken a word, dismounted, +and I led the mare into the wood and hitched her reins over a bough. Then +I returned to the man I had saved, and found him looking calmly down on +the man I had killed. The black vizard was now soaking in a horrid pool of +blood and brains. I stooped, and with trembling fingers moved it aside and +revealed the features of the dead man. It was the pimple-faced Major. + +I turned to my intended victim, and found him looking calmly and +impassively at me. + +"Master Wheatman of the Hanyards, unless I am mistaken," he said. + +"Your servant, sir," said I, rather sourly. But for that dead rascal at +our feet I could beyond a doubt have plucked him like a chough, and here I +was, still penniless. + +"Master Wheatman, I am not a man of many words, but what I say I stand +by. I am your very grateful debtor for a very fine and courageous action. +Three to one is long odds, but you won with your brains, sir, as much as +by your bravery. Your shout was an excellent device, happily thought on." + +He held out his hand. I shook it heartily and then burst out laughing, +and laughed on till tears stood in my eyes. And this was the end of my +highwaymanship! + +"Since the danger is, thanks to you, over, Master Wheatman," he said, "I +would e'en like to share your mirth--if I may." + +"Sir," I replied, "I am laughing because I have saved you from robbers." + +"But why laugh?" + +"Because I set out ten minutes ago to rob you myself." + +Master Freake gazed casually up and down the hill, and then, fixing his +quiet grey eyes on me, said whimsically, "I am a man of peace, and +unarmed; the road is of a truth very lonely, and I have considerable sums +of money on me." + +"Yes, I'm quite vexed. This fire-faced scoundrel has upset my plans +finely. I may not get as good a chance for hours." + +Now it was his turn to laugh. "Master Wheatman," he said, "you are not +the stuff highwaymen are made of. As you are in need of money, you need it +for some good purpose, and I shall--" + +He stopped short. As we stood, he was facing the wood from which the +robbers had burst on him, while I had my back on it. As he stopped, his +strong, calm face changed, and his eyes were fixed on something in the +wood. Wonder, amazement, delight, awe--not one, but all of these emotions +were visible in his face. He looked as one who sees a blessed spirit. I +turned. It was Margaret, leaning, pale and spent and breathless, against +the trunk of a tree, looking and shuddering at the dread object in the +road. + +I bounded up to her and touched her on the arm. "All's well, Mistress +Waynflete," said I. "I am as yet no gallows-bird." + +"But--" Her eyes were still staring wide on the road, and she trembled +violently, so I stepped between her and the ghastly sight, and said, +"Courage, dear lady. The dead man is your father's worst enemy, Major +Tixall, and yon horse killed him, not I." + +By this, Master Freake had come nearer to us, and I turned to greet him. + +"Madam," said I, "this is my friend, Master Freake, whom I set out to +rob." To him I added, "This is Mistress Waynflete, whom I have the honour +to serve." + +He bared his head and bowed. "And whom I hope to have the honour of +serving too." + +I looked at him curiously. All other emotions had faded from his face +now, but it was clear that her peerless and now so helpless beauty had +appealed home to him. + +"Sir," she said, recovering herself with a great effort, "I am pleased to +make your acquaintance. And now,"--speaking to me,--"since you have given +me a great fright and made me behave like a milkmaid rather than a +soldier's daughter, perhaps you will tell me what has happened, and how +it"--she looked over my shoulder--"comes to be lying there. I heard shots +and shrieks that turned me to stone. What has happened?" + +"Master Wheatman," said our new acquaintance, taking my words out of my +mouth, "is hardly likely to give you a reasonably correct account. Allow +me to be the historian of his fine conduct." He told the story with +overmuch kindness to me, and as he told it the colour came back to her +face, and she was herself again. While he was telling it, I noticed for +the first time, or rather for the first time gathered its meaning, that +she had run out after me without the domino, and in the biting air she +might easily catch a chill. So while Master Freake was making a fine +sprose about me, much more applicable to Achilles or the Chevalier Bayard, +I slipped off and fetched the hat and coat. He was just concluding his +story on my return, and without interrupting him, I clumsily thrust the +hat on her head and flung the coat over her shoulders. + +"Master Freake," she said, in her sweetest bantering tones, "my servant, +as he absurdly calls himself, is really an artist in helping people. I +told him this morning that his native shire was his conjurer's hat, when +he fetched ham and eggs out of it for poor hungry me. Now he observes that +I am coatless and a-cold, and lo, a hat is on my head and a coat on my +shoulders. It is marvellous and nothing short of it. Nay, I shall shun him +as one in league with the powers of darkness if there's much more of it. +If I be saved, you remember Master Slender,"--this in a sly aside to me, +--"I'll be saved by them that have the fear of God." + +"Ingrate!" I cried, half angry and yet wholly delighted; "what of marvel +or devilment is there in picking up a hat and coat one has found lying +under a tree?" + +"Major Tixall's," said Master Freake. + +"Ass that I am, of course they are. Steady, Mistress Margaret, while I go +through the pockets. The odds are we shall find something useful in +checkmating my Lord Brocton." + +In this I was wrong, for there was not a single scrap of writing in any +of them. I did, however, fish out two small but heavy packets, wrapped in +paper. They were easily examined, and each contained a roll of ten guineas. + +"The hire of the two rascals," explained Master Freake. + +"Really, Mistress Margaret," said I, "there's something in what you said +just now. I do have his nether highness's own luck. I came out for +guineas, prepared to rob for them, and here's twenty of the darlings lying +ready for me to pick up. Now we can go ahead in comfort." + +Through all this talk I was turning over in my mind what account, if any, +we were to give Master Freake of our being here. If I had had only myself +to consider I should have trusted him without hesitation. He was the sort +of man that inspires confidence, his grave, serene, intelligent face +having strength and steadfastness written in every line of it. But I had +Mistress Waynflete to consider, and if any appeal was to be made for his +assistance, she must make it. I'm afraid that I hoped she wouldn't, since +I was jealous of any interference in my temporary responsibility for her +welfare. + +"Master Freake," I said, "some account will, I suppose, have to be given +of yon ruffian's death. The two runaways are scarcely likely to appear as +witnesses, so, for Mistress Waynflete's sake, I must ask you, should an +explanation become necessary, to conceal my share in the matter." + +"The manner of his death is fortunately quite obvious, and if it were +not, any account I choose to give of it will pass unquestioned." + +"Then it will be easy for you, I hope, to forget me when giving it. And +now, madam, I think we must be moving." + +"Before you go," said Master Freake, "let me say again that if I can help +you, you have only to ask. You, Master Wheatman, because your twofold +signal service is something it would shame me for ever not to be allowed +to return, and you, madam, because," he paused, and the curious rapt +expression came over his face again, "because you are very beautiful and +need help. Your father's politics will make no difficulty, so far as I am +concerned." + +"You know my father?" she asked, surprised. + +"Know of him. My Lord Brocton was boasting last night of his capture--and +of other things," he lamely concluded. + +"Is he boasting this morning?" I asked. + +"I have not seen him," he said, "but Mistress Dobson told me she thought +he'd been rooks'-nesting and had fallen off the poplar." + +"I met him again," said I, "and did not like his conversation." + +"Master Wheatman means," explained Mistress Waynflete, "that he saved me +from my Lord Brocton's clutches at the imminent risk of his own life." She +stretched out her hands and touched the holes in my coat with her white, +slender fingers. "My lord's rapier made these," she said. + +"An inch to the left, my friend," quoth Master Freake, "and you'd have +been as dead as mutton. His lordship, it seems, is busily piling up a big +account with both of us. Well, in my own way, I'll make the rascal pay as +dearly as you have in yours. If you will be pleased to accept my help, +madam, I will do all I can for you. There are, fortunately, other means +than carnal weapons of influencing such persons as Lord Brocton." + +"Like Master Wheatman, sir, you are too good to a poor girl." She said it +gratefully and humbly, and indeed so she felt, but no man could listen to +her meek words without pride. + +"I'm glad I turned footpad, in spite of you," said I to my dear mistress. + +"I can never thank you enough," was the simple reply. "It was wicked in +me to accept the sacrifice, but in God's good providence it was not made +in vain." + +"Then I come into the firm," said Master Freake smilingly, and when, +catching the meaning of his metaphor, she smiled brightly back at him, and +held out her hand, he bowed over it formally, but very kindly, and kissed +it. She blushed prettily, and then, after a moment's hesitation, +stretching it out to me, said, "But I must not forget the original +partner." I took the splendid prize in my rough, red, farmer's hand, and +kissed it reverently. The touch of my lips on her sweet, smooth flesh made +me tremble, and I knew the madness was creeping over me, but I gritted my +teeth, and our eyes met again. The blush had gone, but not the smile. It +was not now, however, the smile of a frank maiden but of an inscrutable +and dominating woman. I knew the difference, for instinct is more than +experience, and I chilled into the yokel again and wondered. + +"In one sense, at any rate," said Master Freake, "I am the senior +partner, and as such may, without presumption, speak first. I must go on +to Stone, but that will, I think, be best for our purpose. As I view the +situation, two things are requisite, first that you, Master Wheatman, +should get Mistress Waynflete in advance of all the royal troops, and so +out of danger, and secondly that we should learn precisely what has become +of Colonel Waynflete." + +"Exactly," I agreed. "The action of Lord Brocton in sending the Colonel +north instead of south, or at least of lodging him in jail at Stafford, is +inexplicable. True, his plan separates father and daughter, which is what +he wants, but either of the other methods would have served equally well +for that." + +Of course I said nothing of the other idea that was haunting my thoughts, +the idea that Brocton was scheming to get rid of the Colonel altogether. +In his lust and anger he might not stick at that, and any kind of +encounter with the enemy would serve his turn. The rascals under him were +worthy of their commander, a fact of which we had already ample proof. + +"It looks crooked, I confess," was his reply, "but there is this to be +said for it, that the Duke is following north along with the bulk of his +army, and, I hear, intends to make Stone his head-quarters." + +"That seems absurd," said I, "but of course he knows best." + +"The movements of the Prince's army are uncertain. The plan of their +leaders is never to say where the next halt will be. They will be to-day, +I know, in or near Macclesfield, and I learn that it is possible they may +turn off for Wales, where they believe they will find many recruits. The +farther north the Duke can safely go, the better placed he will be for +checking them if they do that, and his advance guard is posted at +Newcastle. The question is, how are you to get there first and without +being taken?" + +"By travelling the by-roads," said I. "We'll go through Eccleshall." + +"How long will it take you to get there?" he asked. + +"About three hours," said I, "if Mistress Waynflete can stand the pace." + +"Very good," he replied. "I will join you there, and do my best to get +horses for you in the meantime, and bring them along with me." + +"That's splendid," said I, "but I'd rather we met outside the village. +Not more than a mile and a half beyond it on the Newcastle road there's a +little wayside ale-house called the 'Ring of Bells,' at the foot of a +steep hill, with a large pool ringed with pines, known as Cop Mere, in +front of it. It's a lonely place and will serve better. Small place as +Eccleshall is, I shall skirt round it, and so get to the 'Ring of Bells.' +You cannot miss it if you ride through the village on the Newcastle road. +Whoever's there first will await the other." + +"Then in about three hours we'll meet at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I hope +I shall bring good news of the Colonel. Believe me, dear lady, short of +foul play on Brocton's part, and we have no reason to suspect that, your +father will be all right. Plain John Freake is not without influence. As +for the ruffian lying dead in the road, think no more of him." + +So saying he unhitched his horse, led her into the road, and mounted. He +bowed and smiled, said cheerily, "A pleasant walk to the 'Ring of Bells,'" +and cantered off. + +I stepped between madam and the dead man. "We've found a good friend +there, Mistress Waynflete. Now we'll put the hat and coat as we found +them, save for the guineas, and go back to the cottage for your domino." + +She gave them to me, and stepped out briskly towards the cottage. I +folded up the coat, put the hat on it, looked again at the still, stiff +horror in the road, soaking in its own blood, and silently followed her. + + + +CHAPTER X + +SULTAN + + +The lie of the land was as follows: To get to the "Ring of Bells," Master +Freake would have to ride over the hill to the main road at Weston, thence +some six miles north-west to Stone, thence another six or seven miles +south-west to the inn. Mistress Waynflete and I had a stiff walk of about +nine miles in front of us. For the first three miles our way ran east by +north, and then bent almost due east to the ale-house. Our difficulty +would come at the bending point, for there we should have to cross the +main road from Stafford along which the troops would be filtering north to +get into touch with the Prince and his Highlanders. If the Duke had heard +of the supposed intention of the Jacobites to turn off for Wales, he +would, I imagined, send a scouting party through Eccleshall to look out +for them, and we should, for the second time in our journey, be on +dangerous ground in the neighbourhood of that village. The "Ring of +Bells," however, lay north of that village, off his obvious line of march +in that direction, so that we stood a good chance of passing unchecked to +our goal, provided that we got across the main road north in safety. +Fortunately, at the place where I intended to cross, it climbed over a +fairly steep hill, and we could, if need were, lie and watch the road till +it was safe to venture out. + +It was ticklish work at the best and any break in our run of luck might +ruin us. How ticklish was vividly brought home to me within a few minutes +of our getting safe under cover in the cottage. I had, of course, brought +back the birding-piece and, after once more helping in the blissful task +of getting Mistress Waynflete into the domino, bungling as usual over +arranging the hood because my fingers lost control of themselves at the +touch of her hair, I sat down to reload it, intending to carry it with me. +I had settled matters with the absent gaffer, Doley, by putting one of my +guineas conspicuously on the table, and was just finishing my task when +Mistress Waynflete, who had stepped to the rear window and was looking +back on the scene of my recent exploit, suddenly called out, "Oliver! Come +here!" + +My heart leaped within me at that 'Oliver.' True, it was the familiarity +of one born to command, one who had last night icily desired my services +in the morning, and, womanlike, knew that she could queen it over me as +she listed, but still, and this was the main thing, it was familiar and +friendly, and seemed to lift me a shade nearer to her. + +"What is it, madam?" I asked respectfully, and ran toward her, but not so +swiftly that I had not time to see the blue eyes fixed hard on mine. For +answer, she turned and pointed down the hill, and there I saw the patch of +brown road covered with wagons and soldiers. In five minutes they would +come across the dead body of the Major. + +"Good," said I indifferently, "they save me a guinea," and I put the coin +back in my pocket. The soldiers didn't matter, but that look in her eyes +did. + +"Isn't that rather mean?" For some reason she spoke quite snappily. The +soldiers clearly didn't matter to her, and something else did. + +"Which of the soldiers provided our breakfast, madam? We might as well +leave a note asking them to pick us up at the 'Ring of Bells.' And, madam, +you can trust me to make Dick Doley content enough some day." + +She smiled, with her characteristic touch of chagrin. I liked her best +so, for she never looked daintier. "With a bit of luck, Master Wheatman," +she said whimsically, "there will surely come a time when you'll be wrong +and I right. Then, sir, look out for crowing. I've never been so unlucky +with a man in my life. But you'll slip some day!" + +"Surely, madam," I said, and smiled, "and then I'll abide your gloating. +Now, pray you, let us be off. We've hardly a minute to spare." + +Without losing another second we started on our long walk. It was now +about ten of the clock. The sun was shining cheerily, with power enough to +melt the white rime off every blackened twig it lit upon, and it was still +so cold that sharp walking was a keen delight. + +"Eight miles and more of it, Mistress Waynflete. I hope you can stand the +pace and the distance." + +"I'm a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," she replied curtly. + +The vicar was right. "Oliver," he said to me one day, "what is the +difference between the Hebrew Bible and a woman?" + +"Sir," said I, gaping with astonishment, "I know not, but of a truth it +seems considerable." + +"It is, Oliver," replied the sweet old scholar. "Man can understand the +one in a dozen years, if he try, but the other not in a lifetime, strive +he as earnestly as he may." + +This fragment of my dear friend's talk came back to me now as we walked +in silence side by side. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her sweet +face set in earnest thinking, her rich lips compressed, her speaking eyes +fixed resolutely ahead. Not having to trouble about finding the road, and +there being no sign of anyone, either enemy or neutral, stirring on the +countryside, I let her go on thinking, and set myself the pleasant but +impossible task of accounting to myself for her mood. I went over all we +had said and done together that day, and at last, after perhaps half an +hour of unbroken silence, fell back on what seemed the only possible +explanation. She was thinking of her father. But why that suspicion of +asperity on her face? Was this explanation correct? + +The vicar was right. She suddenly slipped her hand round my arm, looking +at me with laughing lips and dancing eyes, and said, "Isn't it splendid to +be alive on a day like this?" + +"Yes, indeed it is," I replied, "but from your looks and your long +silence, I should hardly have judged that you were thinking so." + +"You have been taking stock of me, sir!" + +"Certainly I have been wondering why you were so silent, and looked +so ... grave." + +"Be honest and fear not, Master Wheatman. You were not going to say +'grave.'" + +"At the expense of many whippings from old Bloggs, I learned to be +precise in the use of words." + +"I know, hence you were not going to say 'grave.'" + +"You will allow me to choose my own words, madam." + +"Certainly, so long as you choose the right ones." + +She unhooked her hand, and we walked a minute or two without another +word, she frowning, and I fuming. Then she said wistfully, "Why did you +think I was cross?" + +"I feared I had offended you," said I hastily and innocently. + +She laughed long and merrily. "Old Bloggs taught you the silly rigmarole +you men call logic, but he didn't teach you woman's logic, that's plain. +Don't you see what I've made you do, Master Wheatman?" + +"Not yet, Mistress Waynflete." + +"Poof, slow-coach! I've made you admit that you were going to say 'cross' +but altered it, too late, to 'grave.'" + +"You outrun me with your nimble and practised wit," said I, smiling. + +"And when did you offend me, think you?" + +"I answered you rather roughly when you took me up about the guinea." + +"Oh, then? Not at all. You snibbed me, but I richly deserved it." + +Another silence. + +"Well?" she said. "Go on! I say I richly deserved it. Go on!" + +"Go on where?" I asked testily. "You're not expecting me to say you +didn't, are you?" + +"No, I'm not," she said, "but it was good practice trying to make you." +So saying, she slipped her hand under my arm again, and we stepped it out +together. + +The current of her thoughts now ran and glittered in the opposite +direction. She made me for the moment her intimate, lifting up the veil +over her past life, and giving me peeps and vistas of her wanderings and +experiences. She jested and gibed. She sang little snatches of song in +some foreign tongue. "You're sure you don't understand Italian?" she +demanded, stopping short half-way through a bar, and quizzing me with her +eyes, now blue as sapphires in the bright sunshine. + +"Not a word of it," said I. + +"A grave disadvantage," she said airily. "It's the only language one can +love in." And off she struck again. + +Now she sang something soothing and sad, with a wistful lilt in it that +died into a low wail. It needed no Italian to be understood, for it was +written in the language of human experience. A woman's heart throbbed in +the lilt and broke in the wail. + +This sweet interval of intimacy verging on friendship was ended by our +close approach to the main road. We had been travelling, heedless of roads +and tracks, across a champaign country, and the slope up to the top of +Yarlet Bank now lay before us. I led the way, skulking behind such poor +cover as the gaunt hedgerows provided, and, when only a hundred paces from +the top, I asked her to crouch down, awaiting my signal to advance, while +I crept forward on my hands and knees to the edge of the road which here +climbed the brow of the hill through a deep cutting, along either margin +of which ran a straggling hedge. + +To my relief, the road down the hill, both to right and left, was +completely deserted. I joyfully waved my arm to Mistress Waynflete, who +was soon by my side, looking down the road. To the right we could see for +nearly a mile. On the left our view was cut short by a bend, and I walked +a score of yards in that direction and shinned up a stout sapling. Our +luck was absolute. Not a soldier, not a living soul, was in sight. + +"We might have had to skulk here for hours, waiting for an opportunity to +cross unseen," said I, on rejoining her, "but our gods above are +victorious, and we share their victory. So now for the 'Ring of Bells.' +There's a gate at the bottom of the hill. Come along, Mistress Waynflete!" + +She followed me down the hedge-side. I turned once or twice to look at +her, carefully pretending that it was only to see how she was getting on. +The last time I thus stole another memory of her splendid presence we were +only a few paces from the gate, and when my reluctant eyes turned again to +their rightful work, they looked straight into a pair of fishy eyes set in +a face as blank and ugly as a bladder of lard. + +Face and eyes belonged to a big, sleek, sly man, perched on the top bar +of the gate. He had a notebook in his hand in which he had been entering +some jottings. He suspended his writing to examine us, picking his nasty, +yellow teeth meanwhile with the point of his pencil. His horse was hitched +to the post on the Stoneward side of the gate, where the stile was. He was +well enough dressed, and, as far as I could see, unarmed. + +It was a most exasperating thing to have pitched into him, whoever and +whatever he was, and indeed I much disliked the look of him, and would +gladly have knocked him on the head. True, travellers were not rare on +this road, since it was part of the great highway from London to Chester, +and the little thoroughfare town of Stone, some three miles ahead, had a +noted posthouse. However, I kept, or tried to keep, my feelings out of my +face and voice, and accosted him cheerily. + +"Good day, friend! What may be the price of fat beeves in Stafford market +to-day?" + +"Dearer than men's heads will be at the town gates after the next +assizes," he replied, stroking his notebook and grinning evilly. + +"You'll never light on a Scotsman, dead or alive, that's worth as much as +a Staffordshire heifer," said I, leading the way past him to the stile, +over which I handed Mistress Margaret into the road. + +"They won't all be Scotsmen, my friend," he replied, still stroking his +notebook. + +"No?" said I, eager at heart to knock him off his perch. + +"Nor men," he added, leering at Margaret. + +"Come along, Sal," said I to her laughingly, "before the good gentleman +jots you down a Jacobite." + +So we left him, and when, fifty paces down the road, I looked back at +him, he was jotting in his notebook again. + +"I think he knows something about us," said I. + +"Very likely," she replied calmly. "I've seen him once before in London, +talking to Major Tixall. Who could forget a face like that?" + +"He's uglier than the big-mouthed dragoon." + +"The dragoon was at any rate a soldier." + +"And the worst of soldiers has, no doubt, some savour of grace in him." + +"Quite so," she retorted. "His calling makes it necessary." + +"And, so reasoning, you would say, I suppose, that the best of farmers +was to seek in the higher reaches of manliness." + +"Have I not told you, Master Oliver, that between man's logic and woman's +logic there's a great gulf fixed?" + +"Minds are minds," said I. + +"And hearts are hearts," replied she, and so shut me up to my thinking +again. + +We turned into a cart-track on our left leading in the direction of +Eccleshall. As we turned I saw that Bladder-face had mounted his horse and +was coming on toward Stone. There was no doubt that we should be pursued +from that quarter before long, and I grew heavy with anxiety as I saw how +hardly we were being pressed. The encounter had not, however, disturbed +Mistress Waynflete. On the contrary, she became gayer than ever, so gay +that, fool-like, I got quite vexed at it, for it was clear that something +had relieved her anxiety, and I knew it was nothing that I had done. I +worried over it, and at last hit on the explanation. She was rejoicing in +the help of the new partner. + +"What do you make of Master Freake?" said I boorishly, cutting short a +lightsome trill, more Italian maybe. + +"Make of what?" said she lightly. + +"Master Freake." + +"Forgive me, Master Wheatman," she replied, "but I didn't take you as +quickly as I ought to have done. I like the look of him. How pretty, pluck +them for me." + +I stopped to gather the spray of brilliant vermilion berries she fancied, +saying meanwhile, "I wonder what he is? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, +or what?" + +She seemed much more concerned with her berries, which she praised +rapturously, and placed carefully in the bosom of her riding-dress before +replying. + +"He's no doubt a grave and prosperous citizen of London. I've seen many +such, and he looks sworn brother to worthy Alderman Heathcoat. Moreover, +he talks merchantlike." + +It seemed pretty certain that she had hit the right nail on the head. Her +explanation fitted his account of the large sums he was carrying and his +stay with and hold over Jack's father. True, Staffordshire seemed the +wrong place for such a man. Both he and his money would have been far +safer in Change Alley. If her explanation was acute and probable, her +manner of making it had convinced me that my explanation of her gaiety was +wrong. Of him she certainly had not been thinking. Then there was only one +thing left to account for it. What makes a maid as merry as a grig? Didn't +our Kate sing all morning when Jack was coming in the afternoon? + +It was no concern of mine, and as a man sometimes makes his right hand +play his left hand at chess, so I now made stern Oliver lecture paltering +Wheatman, but without doing him much good. Naturally all this made me a +poor companion on the road, and for a long time Mistress Waynflete bore +with me patiently. Then she turned from her tra-la-la-ing to waken me up, +roundly declaring that I was bored with her company; and I had no defence, +ridiculous as the charge was. + +"I've sung every song I know, and sung them my best, too, and you've +never once praised me. You'll have to learn, you know, Master Oliver, to +smile at a lady even when you really want to smack her. What do you do? +You just write on your face as plainly as this"--and here her dainty +finger toured her face, ending up where the tear of milk had trembled +--"S-M-A-C-K." I roared aloud, she did it so frankly and mirthfully. What +a treasury of moods she was! She had stepped across our house-place like a +queen, she had fronted that devil, Brocton, like a goddess, and now she +was larking like a schoolmaid. + +Long as the way was, we seemed to me to be getting over the ground too +rapidly. Mistress Waynflete did not tire, and did full credit to her +father's soldiership. We circled round the red-tiled roofs of Eccleshall, +and at length took shelter in the pines that ringed the great pool. Across +the mere lay the road, and on the far side of the road from us was the +"Ring of Bells," standing well back, with a little green in front, in the +centre of which a huge post carried a board bearing the rudely painted +sign of the ale-house. + +I scouted ahead, dodging from tree to tree along the edge of the mere, in +order to keep out of view of anyone moving on the road. Over against the +ale-house I crept still more warily through the wood to the edge of the +road. There was no one moving in or about the ramshackle little place, but +there was one unexpected thing in sight which gave me pause. Hitched by +the reins to a staple in the signpost was the finest horse I had ever set +eyes on, a slender, sinewy stallion, champing on his bit and pawing +nervously on the stone-hard ground. + +Here was the shadow of a new trouble, though, indeed, there was nothing +to be surprised at, seeing that the countryside far and near was buzzing +with enemy activities. A rat in a barn might as justly complain of being +tickled by straws as I of jostling into difficulties. The horse without +betokened a rider within, and probably some one in the Duke's horse. I +beckoned Mistress Waynflete, and by signs indicated that extreme caution +was necessary. During the moments I was awaiting her I examined the +birding-piece to make sure it was in order. Caution, however, she flung to +the winds, for the moment she set eyes on the horse she joyously shouted +'Sultan' and made a wild, happy dash to cross the road. + +I stopped her sternly, and in a brief whisper asked, "Who's Sultan?" + +"Father's horse." + +"We do not know for sure that your father is in the inn because his horse +is outside, and by your leave, madam, we'll make sure first. Keep right +behind yon thick tree, and await my return." + +She looked calmly at me, but even before she could glide off, there came +from the ale-house an appalling volley of oaths and curses. It was a man's +voice, yelling in agonized blasphemy, and a woman's shrill treble floated +on the surface of the stream of virulence. + +I caught Mistress Waynflete's wrist and steadied her. "Not your father, +apparently?" I said in a cool voice, though my head was whirling a bit +under the strain. "Here," I went on, fetching a fistful out of my pocket, +"are some guineas. Follow me, unhitch the horse, and if I shout to you to +be off, mount him from yon horse-trough, and away like lightning. That's +the road to Eccleshall, along which Master Freake is bound to come." + +I thrust the guineas into her hand, gripped my weapon, slipped out of the +pines and across the road, circled the horse, and made to peep round the +jamb of the open door into the guest-room of the ale-house. As I did so, +the man yelled, "God damn, I'm on fire!" and the woman shrieked back, +"Burn, you foul devil, burn, and be damned!" + +This was enough, and I burst in on a spectacle, strange, serious, on the +point of becoming terrible, and yet almost laughable. In the middle of the +room, a stout, shock-headed, red-elbowed woman stood, a pikel in her +strong outstretched hands. The sergeant of dragoons, with his back to a +roaring fire, was pinned against the hearthstead by the pitchfork, the +tines of which were stuck in the oak lintel of the chimney-piece, so that +a ring of steel encircled his throat like the neckhole of a pillory, and +held him there helpless and roasting. When I first caught sight of him he +was making a frenzied attempt to wrench the prongs out, but, finding it +hopeless, drew his tuck, and lashed out at the woman. She calmly shifted +out of reach along the handle of the fork. He then hacked fiercely but +without much effect on the wooden handle, and finally, in his despair and +agony, poised the tuck and cast it at her javelin-fashion. The woman, +cooler than he in both senses of the term, dodged it easily. How she had +contrived to pin him in such a helpless manner, I could not imagine. The +motive was obvious. A little girl lay writhing and sobbing on the floor +amid the fragments of a broken mug and a scattering of copper and silver +coins. + +"You've got him safe enough, mother," said I, "and it's no good cooking +him since you can't eat him." + +"Be yow another stinking robber, like this'n?" she demanded. The epithet +was as apt as it was vigorous, for the stink of singeing cloth made me +sniff. "If y'be," she went on, "I'll shove' im in the fire and set about +yow." + +"Not a bit of it, mother. I've come to help you, but shift him along a +bit out of the heat, and then we'll settle what to do with him." To him I +added, "Understand, sergeant, any attempt to fight or fly, and your neck +will be wrung like a cockerel's." Then laying down my gun I pulled out the +tines and shifted him along the lintel till he was out of danger. The +woman, whose fierce determination never faltered, jammed the pikel in +again and kept him trapped. + +I went to the door and saw Mistress Waynflete standing by Sultan's head, +and the proud beauty arching his neck in his joy at finding his mistress +near him. I beckoned her. + +"An old acquaintance, in a fix. Come in!" said I, and introduced her to +the strange scene. "The sergeant, madam," I went on, "and he has been +plucked like a brand from the burning." She took in the scene, judged what +had happened, and then gathered up the child, who had ceased crying out of +curiosity, and mothered the little one so sweetly that the red-elbowed +woman cried out hearty thanks. + +In brief the story, as collected later from the mother and child, was +that the sergeant had ridden up and asked for a meal. After he had had +some bread and cheese and ale, he had taken advantage of the alewife's +absence to ask the child where mother kept her money, and, receiving no +answer, had twisted the poor little one's arm until in her terror and +agony she had told him of the secret hole in the chimney where the money +was kept in a coarse brown mug. The child's cry had brought the mother +running back with the pikel, snatched up on the way, and she, taking him +at unawares with the mug in his hand, had darted at him and luckily caught +him round the neck, and pinned him against the fireplace as I had found +him. Let him go she dared not, for she was alone except for the child, and +but for my arrival he would have roasted right enough till he was +helpless. As it was the skirts of his coat were smouldering, and he had +only just escaped serious injury. In fact, although smarting sore, he was +so little damaged that after tearing away the burnt tails, he collected +himself and tried to bam me. + +"Master Wheatman," he began, "I call upon you in the King's name to aid +and assist me. This woman's tale is all a lie. The mug was on the +chimney-top for anyone to see, and I only took it down to examine it, +being struck with its appearance." + +"Also in the King's name, Master Sergeant," was my reply, "I propose to +have you handed over to the nearest justice as a rogue and vagabond." + +"And you shall explain why you are here with your--" I should have +strangled him if his foul tongue had wagged one word of insult, and he saw +it in my eyes. He stopped, and his face showed that he had discovered the +secret. + +"The sergeant recognizes you again, Molly," said I lightly. + +"Bammed and beaten by a damned yokel?" he burst out. "Ten thousand +devils! Where were my eyes yesterday?" In his anger he began to strain at +his steel cravat. + +"Virgil for ever! The first town we come to I'll buy me a Latin grammar," +said Margaret to me, with a low ripple of laughter. + +"How'd on, fool," said the alewife to the sergeant. "Yow wunna be wuth +hangin' if y' carry on a this'n." + +"If you don't loose me, you old bitch," he shouted, "I'll see you hanged! +Loose me, for your neck's sake! These people are Jacobites!" + +"Gom, I dunna know what that be, but I wish Stafford-sheer was full on +'em. 'Tinna any good chokin' y'rsen, I shanna let go." + +This method of keeping him, however, rendered the alewife useless, so I +took her place, and bade her fetch the longest and toughest rope she'd +got. She brought me a beauty and with it I trussed the sergeant, tying him +securely into a heavy, clumsy chair, and leaving him as helpless as a fowl +ready for roasting. Then a thought struck me and I went through his +pockets. His very stillness made me careful in my search, but I found only +some old bills for fodder and other military papers, and a heavily sealed +letter addressed "To HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS." I was not quite Jacobite enough +to make me willing to steal a dispatch addressed to the Royal Duke, and I +should have thrust it and the oddments of paper back again but for the +rattle of hoofs outside. It was probably Master Freake, and I was +particularly anxious that the sergeant should not see him, so I rushed out +with all the papers in my hand to forestall him. + +Hurrying outside I saw Master Freake hitching his horse to the signpost, +and Mistress Waynflete already talking to him eagerly. When I got up he +delivered his news briefly and to the point, and bad news it was. + +He had learned in Stone that the Colonel had again been taken on ahead +towards Newcastle in charge of a troop of Brocton's dragoons under the +command of Captain Rigby, "last night's table companion of the dead +Major," he explained. + +"Whatever for?" asked Mistress Waynflete. + +Master Freake said nothing, but his eyes were troubled, and I knew there +was something he would fain conceal. + +"Whatever for?" she repeated. "Could you learn of no reason?" + +"I was told," he answered slowly, "that Colonel Waynflete's knowledge and +assistance would be invaluable to the royal troops." + +"Told that my father had turned traitor! Is that what you mean, sir?" +Scorn too great for anger covered her face, veiling its sweetness as with +a fiery cloud. + +"That is the plain English of what I was told, I must admit." Here was +the grave, businesslike nature of the man, plainly posing awkward +questions that had to be answered. + +"It's a wicked lie!" she burst out. She turned her face proudly to look +into mine, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears. + +"Naturally, madam," said I. + +"My father's honour is mine, Master Wheatman, and I am your debtor for +another splendid courtesy." + +"I argue from the flower to the tree. Man's logic, and therefore +necessarily imperfect, you would say, but for once I stick to it." I spoke +lightly and reminiscently, so as to chase the gloom from her mind, and she +was immediately herself again. + +Master Freake continued his story, which went from bad to worse. As I had +expected, Bladderface had ridden into Stone, and the result of his +communication to Captain Rigby had been that orders were issued for our +pursuit, and Master Freake had left the town not very far in advance of +the squad of horse sent on our track. He had thus been unable to procure +horses for us, but at Eccleshall he had managed to obtain a pillion for +Margaret's use behind him. + +This was awkward indeed, for though Master Freake had ridden hard, the +pursuit could not be very far behind, and if, as was almost certain, the +dragoons turned up at the "Ring of Bells," the sergeant would be set free, +and be after us like a mad bull. There was, however, a margin of time +available, and therefore I put this problem out of my mind, and attended +only to the urgent one of the Colonel's position. + +To me there was only one explanation possible. This continual shifting of +the Colonel, ever under the charge of those rascally dragoons, commanded +now by a man whose familiarity with Tixall was an evil augury, meant one +thing only. Soon, perhaps within an hour or two, there would be fighting, +and under cover of that a stab in the back or a bullet in the head would +clear the Colonel out of Brocton's path for ever. + +"Take these papers, Master Freake," said I. "Mistress Waynflete will tell +you what has happened here, and you can give them back to their owner if +you choose. But do not, I beg you, on any account let the rascal inside +see or hear you." + +I raced indoors, seized the sergeant's tuck and took his baldrick from +him, heedless of his vile threats. I left him there, choking with +foulness, unhitched Sultan, sprang into the saddle, and cantered up to my +friends. + +"Now, Mistress Margaret," I said, "describe your father so that I shall +know him when I see him." + +She sketched his portrait in broad, clear outlines, and I fixed the +description point by point in my memory. + +"That's the road to Newcastle," said I, pointing along the edge of the +mere, "and it's fairly straight and good. Follow me there as quickly as +you can, and inquire for me at the 'Rising Sun.' I'll have news of the +Colonel, if not the Colonel himself, when we meet again." + +I bowed to Margaret, dug my heels into Sultan, and was off like a flash. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN WHICH I SLIP + + +Sultan was a horse for a man, long and regular in his stride, perfect in +action, quick to obey, cat-like at need. I might have ridden him from the +day on which the blacksmith drank his colt-ale, for we understood each +other exactly, and I was as comfortable on his back as in my bed at the +Hanyards. In the open road at the mere-end, he settled down into a steady, +loping trot, and I was free to think matters out to the music of his +hoof-beats on the road. + +It was only eight or nine miles into Newcastle, and as the dragoons would +travel slowly and warily there was just a chance that I should be there +first. Further, it was wholly unlikely that I should be interfered with, +since the only two enemies who knew I was aiding Mistress Margaret were +helpless in my rear--Brocton at Stafford, and the sergeant in the "Ring of +Bells." I was unknown in the town, not having been there since my +schooldays, and then only on rare occasions, as a visit to the town meant +a thirty-mile walk in one day. + +Plan-making was futile. Everything would depend upon chance, but if +chance threw me into touch with the Colonel, it should go hard if I did +not free him somehow or other. The most splendid thing would be if I could +free him before Margaret overtook me at the "Rising Sun." True, I had only +an hour or so to spare, but now strange things happened in an hour of my +life, and this great luck might be mine. Then would come my rich and rare +reward--the light in her deep, blue eyes and the tremulous thanks on her +ripe, red lips. + +And then a thought smote me like a blow between the eyes, so that I +dizzied a moment, and the day grew grey and the outlook blank. The finding +of the Colonel meant the losing of Margaret. Father and daughter reunited, +my work would be done; the day of the hireling would be accomplished. Need +for me there would be none. The old life would again claim me, justly +claim me too, for was I not, though all unworthily and unprofitably, the +only son of my sweet mother, and she a widow. I could see her in the +house-place at the Hanyards, her calm eyes fixed in sorrow on my empty +chair. _A man shall leave father and mother_, yes, for one particular +cause, but the only son of a widowed mother for no cause whatsoever. +Christ, I said to myself, would not have raised the young man of Nain +merely to get married. + +Still there was the work, and I spurned my gloomy thoughts and turned to +think of it. And first I took stock of my means of offence. There were +loaded pistols in the holsters, fine long weapons with polished walnut +stocks inlaid with silver lacery and the initials 'C.W.', the Colonel's +without a doubt. At the saddle-bow there hung a sizeable leathern pouch, +and this I found to contain a good supply of charges. I was a sure shot, +and I tried my skill on a gate as Sultan flew by, splintering the latch at +which I aimed to a nicety, the well-trained horse taking no more notice of +the shot than of a wink at a passing market-wench. So far so good. Then +there was the sergeant's tuck, and I shouted with a schoolboy's glee at +having for the first time in my life a sword at my side. Of how to use it +I knew nothing, unless many bouts at single-stick with Jack should be some +sort of apprenticeship in swordcraft. I practised pulling it out, and +then, imitating Brocton, made the forty-inch blade twist and tang in the +air, which pleased me greatly. I felt quite a Cavalier now, and said +within myself that old Smite-and-spare-not's bones should soon be rustling +in their grave with envy. + +And so into Meece, wondering if the fat host of the "Black Bull" would +recognize in the splendidly mounted horseman the dusty schoolboy of ten +years ago. There he was in the porch, grown intolerably fatter, talking to +my ancient gossip, Rupert Toms, the sexton, now heavily laden with years +and infirmities. I pricked on, having no time to spare for either prayer +or provender, since every moment was precious, though a tankard of double +October, mulled with spice and laced with brandy, would have been precious +too, for the matter of that. + +At the tail of the village, where the curve of the road runs into the +straight again to climb the long hill, I came for a moment into touch with +my affair. A horseman was in sight, rattling down the slope, and I saw +that he was an officer, a keen-featured, middle-aged man, with the set +face of one who rides on urgent business. Yet he checked his horse when +near me, and cried curtly, "What news from Stafford?" + +A word with him might be worth while, so I too pulled up and answered +very politely, "It's market-day." + +"Damn the market! What news of the troops, sir? Is my Lord Brocton still +there?" + +"I believe he is." + +"Then damn my Lord Brocton! Did you chance to see him?" + +"I had that honour late last night." + +"Anything the matter with him?" + +"He'd had enough," said I simply. + +"That's what comes of shoving sprigs of your bottle-sucking nobility into +the service. Damn his nobility! There's another of them back yonder, as +much use as an old tup." + +"If I detain you much longer," said I, with exaggerated sweetness, +"you'll be damning me." + +"Nothing likelier. I damn everything and everybody that don't suit me. +That's why I'm captain at fifty instead of colonel at thirty. What of it?" + +"Lord Brocton's nine miles off, and I'm not." + +"Think I care? Damn you, too, and I'll fight you when we meet again. Like +a lark! Wish I'd time now. Good day, sir!" + +He dug the rowels into his horse and was off. An earnest, choleric man +with his heart in his work, for which I liked him, even to his persistent +damning. + +I put Sultan to the slope and he kept bravely at it till I eased him off +where the rise was steepest. My late encounter clearly meant that affairs +were ripening fast farther north, and it might also mean danger behind me +sooner than I had looked for. The blood danced in my veins at the prospect +of the adventures that awaited me. Ho, for life and work! Would it be long +before the blue eyes lanced me through and through again, as when I kissed +her hand among the trees by the roadside? I looked at the frosty sun and +judged that it was nigh on twenty-four hours since I had stood in the +porch and watched mother and Kate across the cobbles into the road +--twenty-four hours that had done more for me than the twenty-four years +that had gone before them, for they had given me a man's task, a man's +thoughts, the stirrings of a man's being, the beginning of a man's agony. + +We were at the top now with the open country stretching for miles around +us. But the dale beneath, through which the main road ran a mile away to +the east, was thick with trees, and I could get no inkling of how things +were going. I strained my ears to listen, but no warning sound could I +hear. The countryside was still and calm as a frozen sea, and war and its +terrors seemed so impossible that for a moment I felt as if it was only a +dream-life that I was living and that I must wake soon and hear Joe Braggs +trolling out his morning song in honour of Jane. But Sultan craned round +his shapely head as if to ask me why I was loitering in the cold, bleak +air; so with a cheery slap on his glossy neck, I gave him the reins and +away he went, with me spitting ghostly Broctons on the sergeant's tuck. +Through the skirts of the woodland he carried me, and then up again till +on the top of Clayton Bank I pulled him up a second time for another +survey of the situation. + +The little town was now in full view a mile ahead, lying on the slope and +top of some rising ground. Across the meadows to my right, and now plainly +to be seen less than half a mile away, was the main road from Stone. Again +I was disappointed. A long, rude post-wagon, pulled by eight horses and +driven by a man on an active little nag, was groaning its way south; a +solitary horseman was ambling north--and that was all I could see. + +What had happened to the Colonel? Were the dragoons in the town or not? I +dug my heels into Sultan's flanks and put him to it at his best, and in a +few minutes was on the outskirts of the town. + +The town consists in the main of two streets. The High Street is simply +the town part of the main road from the south and Stone to Congleton and +the north--the line along which the Stuart Prince was marching. It +deserves its name, for it lies along the edge of the slope on which the +town lies. Parallel to it in the dip lies Lower Street, and the road I was +on curls past the end of this street and climbs gently to join the upper +road. I could thus get into the heart of the town through the poorer +quarter of it, and soon the kidney-stones of Lower Street rang under +Sultan's hoofs. + +The stir and noise of Stafford was completely absent. The townspeople, +mainly hatters by trade, were plying their craft indoors as if no enemy +were at their gate. In fact, as I learned afterwards, there was no fuss +and much fun and good business when the Highlanders actually came on the +scene. The farther a town was from them the more it funked them, which +was, as everybody knows now, truest of all of London. As I turned up the +lane by St. Giles', the church bells chimed two. Past the church in the +corner between the lane and the High Street was the "Rising Sun." Once +Sultan was safe in its stables I could set about getting news of the +Colonel before Margaret and Master Freake arrived. + +It was stiff work up the last thirty yards, and Sultan shook himself +together after it when he drew out on the level High Street. Here were +throngs of people and some signs of trouble toward. In particular I +noticed the town fathers in their black gowns of office, and, most +conspicuous of all, the crimson and fur of his worship. I judged they were +coming from a council meeting in the town hall, which stood in the middle +of the wide High Street. There was much high debate, wagging of fingers +and smiting of fist in palm, but no approach to the tumult and terror of +yesternight. The Mayor stood for a moment confabbing at the door of a +grocery, and then shot into it. I saw him struggling out of his gown as he +disappeared, and thence inferred that the chief burgess was a grocer in +private life. + +So much I saw before pulling Sultan round to pass under the archway +leading into the yard of the "Rising Sun." I dismounted and called for an +ostler. No man appearing, I was about to lead Sultan farther down the yard +towards the stables when there was a scurry of feet behind me as if the +whole ostler-tribe of the "Rising Sun" was hastening to my assistance. I +turned round rattily to find myself looking into the barrel of a pistol, +while three or four men pounced on me and pinned me against the wall. + +"Damn ye, horse-thief, for the black of a bean I'd blow your brains out," +said Colonel Waynflete. "Stick tight, lads; and you, good host, fetch +along Master Mayor and the constable, and have me the scoundrel laid by +the heels. If this were only my commandery on the Rhine! I'd strappado you +and then hang you within the next half-hour. My bonny Sultan! How are you, +my precious?" + +When a raw youth leaves farming for knight-erranting he must expect sharp +turns and rough tumbles, but surely Fate and Fortune were overdoing it +now. It was the Colonel beyond doubt, and Margaret had limned him to the +life. The hawk-eyes, the hook nose, the leathery skin, the orange-tawny +campaign-wig with the grizzled hair peeping under the rim of it, the tall, +thin, supple figure, all were there. And if I had been in any doubt of it, +Sultan would have settled the matter, for his pleasure at finding his +master was delightful to witness. + +In hot blood I did not mind a pistol, and in the coldest blood I could +easily have kicked loose from the men who had got hold of me. But Margaret +kept my limbs idle and my mouth shut. There was no real danger, for that +matter, unless Margaret and Master Freake failed to turn up at the "Rising +Sun," and there was no reason to suppose they would fail. The Colonel gave +me no chance to speak to him privately, and to speak to him publicly might +upset his plans. How he had got here a free man, what strange turn things +had taken in his favour, I could not imagine. Margaret would be here in an +hour and put matters right, so for her sake it would be best and easiest +to say nothing. I simply made up my mind that the varlet on my right, +whose dirty claws and beery breath were sickening me, should have the +direst of drubbings before the day was out. + +Mine host bustled off for the Mayor, and, the news having gone around, +the yard was filled with people watching the fun and making a +mocking-stock of me. The Colonel saw Sultan off to be groomed and baited, +and then, without so much as a look at me, went into the inn and sat down +to his interrupted meal. I could see him plainly through the window, and +hugely admired his coolness. The maids clustered around to have a peep at +me. Such as were old and ugly declared off-hand that I was indisputably +ripe for the gallows, but a younger one with saucy eyes and cherry-red +cheeks blew a kiss, and called out to beery breath to deal gentlier with +me. He moved a little in turning to grin at her, and I shot my knee into +his wind and doubled him up on the ground. A stouter lad took his place, +but his breath was sweet and I gained much in comfort by the change. + +The situation had the saving grace of humour. For twenty-four hours I had +been on the stretch to save Colonel Waynflete from his enemies. To do it I +had left mother and sister, and home and lands. To do it I had come out +openly on the side of rebellion and treason. The sword had been at my +breast, and the wind of a bullet had stirred the hair of my head. I might +have spared my pains. All this pother of mine was over the man sitting +yonder, heartily enjoying his dinner. All my heroics had ended in my being +arrested as a horse-thief. + +I closed my eyes. Picture after picture came before me of Margaret in her +changing moods and her unchanging beauty. Gad! How cheaply I had bought +this gallery of precious memories! + +A throng of lads crowding noisily under the archway heralded the approach +of the dignitaries. First came the town beadle, a pompous little fellow +who wore a laced brown greatcoat many sizes too large for him, and carried +a cudgel of office thick as his own arm, and surmounted by a brass crown +the size of a baby's head. His office enabled him to be brave on the +cheap, so by dint of digging his weapon into the ribs of all and sundry, +they being, as he expressed it, too thick on the clod, he cleared a path +for the grocer-mayor, who had gotten himself again into his scarlet gown. +His worship was gawky, flustered, and uncertain, and listened like a +scared rabbit to mine host, a man of much talk, who explained proudly what +was to be done. + +"This is 'im, y'r worship," he said. "A dirty 'oss-thief as badly wants +'anging. Copped in the act, y'r worship, of riding into this 'ere yard o' +mine, as big as bull-beef, sitting on the very 'oss 'e'd stolen from his +lordship 'ere." + +His lordship was the Colonel, who had leisurely left his meal again to +settle my hash. I can see him now as he stood on the step of the inn-door, +carefully flicking a stray crumb or two from his waistcoat, and taking the +measure of the man he had to bamboozle, with clear, amused, grey eyes. + +"The Mayor of the town, I think," he said softly. + +"Yes, your honour," said the good man surreptitiously wiping something, +probably sugar, off his hands on the lining of his gown. + +"And his beadle, your lordship," added the host, and the under-strapper +inside the greatcoat saluted the Colonel with a flourish of his tipstaff. + +"I am Colonel Waynflete," he answered in level measured tones, "riding on +important business of His Majesty's, and my horse was stolen at an inn, +some miles back, beyond Stafford. But for the kindness of my Lord Brocton +in providing me with another, His Gracious Majesty's affairs would have +been badly disarranged. This fellow came riding in on my horse, Sultan, a +few minutes ago and I ordered his arrest. He is now in your worship's +hands. I leave him there with confidence, merely remarking, on the warrant +of many years' observation in such matters, that he will require a stout +rope." + +He nodded to his dithering worship, and marched back slowly and calmly to +his dinner. + +"This beats cock-fighting," said mine host admiringly. He spread himself, +happy and conspicuous as a tom-tit on a round of beef, and the crowd, +pleasantly anticipating mugs of beer later on, urged the Mayor to be up +and doing. + +"What have you to say for yourself?" said his grocer-ship to me, with a +dim and belated idea, perhaps, that I might be interested in the +proceedings. + +"The beadle's coat is much too large for him," said I. + +"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "Samson Salt was a big man and had only +had the coat three years when he died, and we couldn't afford a new one +for Timothy. Dear me, but this isn't a council meeting, and what's the +beadle's coat got to do with horse-stealing?" + +"As much as I have," I replied gravely. + +"Yow've 'ad enough, my lad," said the host, "to last y'r the rest of y'r +life. The next 'oss you rides'll be foaled of an acorn. Let Timothy put +him in clink, Master Mayor, and come and have a noggin of the real thing. +Gom, I'm that dry my belly'll be thinking my throat's cut." + +"Arrest this man, Timothy Tomkins, and put him in jail till I can take +due order for his trial." + +Timothy turned up the sleeves of his coat, and arrested me by placing his +hand on my arm, and flourishing the brass crown in my face. + +"Don't hurt me, Timothy," I said. "I'll come like a lamb, and I'll go +slow lest you should tumble over the tail of your coat." + +"If you say another word about the blasted coat I'll split your head +open," was his angry reply. It was evidently a sore topic with him and a +familiar one with his frugal townsmen, for some man in the crowd cried +out, "'Tinna big enough for the missis, be it, Timothy?" And while the +peppery little beadle's eyes were searching the japer out, another added, +"More's the pity, for 'er's a bit of a light-skirt." At this there was a +roar of laughter, so I saved the frenzied officer further trouble by +saying, "Come along, Timothy. Let's go to jail." + +On the Mayor's orders, mine host despoiled me of the sergeant's tuck, and +Timothy marched me off to the jail, the rabble following, as full of +chatter as a nest of magpies. The jail was a small stone building, +standing, like the town hall, in the middle of the street. Arrived there, +Timothy thrust me into an ill-lit dirty hole below the level of the +street, locked the door behind me, and left me to my reflections. + +The only furniture of the den was a rude bench. A nap would do me good, +so, after a good pull at Kate's precious cordial, I curled up on the bench +and in a few minutes was sound asleep. And in my sleep I dreamed that two +blue stars were twinkling at me through a golden cloud. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN" + + +A wisp of cloud, a long trail of shimmering gold, broke loose, swept with +the touch of softest silk across my cheek, and half awakened me. I was +lazily and sleepily regretting that such caresses only came in dreams, +when I was brought sharply back to full life by a ripple of hearty +laughter. + +"Gloat on!" said I complacently. + +"I knew you'd slip some time or other. Gloat! Of course I shall gloat." +And she laughed again. I should have borne it easily enough, coming from +her, under any circumstances, but there was one circumstance which made it +a pure joy. The white hands were busy with her unruly yellow hair, and I +was so far gone foolward that I was in some sort hopeful that they were +imprisoning the wisp of golden cloud that had awakened me. I bitterly +regretted that I was not as nimble at waking as Jack. He would be sleeping +like a leg of mutton one second and, at the touch of a feather, as wide +awake as a weasel the next. I took time--it was the Latin rubbish +cumbering my brain, he used to say--or I might have made sure. + +Mistress Margaret was perched on the edge of my bench. She seemed in no +hurry to move, and I could not get up till she did, so I lay still, +cradling my head in my hands, and looked contentedly at her. It was now so +gloomy that I had evidently been asleep some time. + +"I knew you'd slip," she repeated with great zest. "All men do. And I'm +glad you slipped, for it proved you human. I was getting quite overawed by +the terrible precision with which you did exactly the right thing at +exactly the right time. It made me feel so very small and inferior, and no +woman likes that. It's not nice." + +"Or natural," said I. + +"I see you're unmistakably awake, sir!" was the tart reply. She rose and +took short turns up and down the cell and went on: "But why slip into +jail, Master Wheatman? Why did you not tell father who you were and what +you had done for me?" + +"And so prove at once to the authorities in the town that he was not what +he pretended to be!" + +"Ho!" she said, and stopped short. + +"Our idea was, I think, to free the Colonel, if we could." + +"Yes." She was not gloating now, but wondering. + +"Well, madam, I found him free, and the only advantage I can see in your +plan is, that I should have had him as a companion in jail. Whereas now +I've mended my night's sleep with a refreshing nap, and Master Freake has +so lucidly explained things to the Mayor that Timothy of the long coat is +kicking his heels at the top of the stairs, and wondering how much longer +you're going to be. Shall we once more breathe the upper air, as Virgil +would put it? This hole is as bad as a corner in his under-world." + +"And I laughed at you for slipping, Master Wheatman! I shall never dare +to look you in the face again." + +"Don't you believe it, madam," said I airily, leading the way to the +steps. "I've heard Copper Nob say the same thing scores of times." + +"Who's Copper Nob?" + +The question came like the crack of a whip, and I was glad the familiar +phrase had slipped out unawares and diverted her. + +"Our Kate," I explained. + +"Oh indeed, sir! A more beautiful head of hair no woman in this land +possesses, and you glibly call her 'Copper Nob.' Doubtless you have +selected some nice expressive name for me!" + +"I shouldn't dare!" I protested hotly. + +"Why not? You do it for her, brazenly and wantonly." + +"Yes, madam, but she's my sister." + +"How does that assure me?" + +"A man's sister isn't a woman," said I, and went ahead and pushed open +the door. There, sure enough, was Timothy, looking very uncertain and +rueful. The little man's complaisance had given me the greatest wonder of +my life--Margaret's silent watching over me as I lay asleep, and I gave +him a guinea with much gladness. + +"The coat's too big for you, Timothy, and it's no good denying it. I'll +speak to his worship about a new one of the right length." + +"Thank yer, sir," he said, grinning oafishly as he pouched the guinea. +"I'd rather have a new coat than a new missus, and, swelp me bob, I want +both." + +Margaret joined me, and we at once made our way to the "Rising Sun." Work +for the day was over, and the street was now getting thronged and noisy. +Many curious looks were bent on us, but no one dared to interfere with a +man of my evil reputation, a horse-thief being the last thing in +desperadoes. We had only a few yards to go, but my mistress apprised me in +sweet whisperings that Master Freake's explanation was that Sultan had +been innocently obtained from the real thief, that I was his servant, and, +not knowing of the horse deal, had loyally kept silent lest I should make +mischief--a happy and reasonably truthful rendering of the real facts. + +"After his private talk with Master Mayor," she added, "that worthy man's +knees were as hard worked as the hinges of an ale-house door." + +"The poor cringeling is but a grocer," said I, as we turned in under the +archway of the "Rising Sun." The host saw us through the kitchen window, +and ran out to usher us in with the assurance of a brass weathercock. + +"Sommat like a jail delivery, eh, y'r 'onour? Gom, if I wudna pinch fifty +'osses to be fetched out o' clink by such a bonny lady, begging your +ladyship's pardon." + +"She shall fetch you out," said I sourly, "when you're jailed for not +stealing." + +"His honour's commands are a law unto his handmaiden," said Margaret +demurely and icily, addressing him, but aiming point-blank at me. Her shot +blew me clean out of the water, and I stood there guggling like a born +idiot. "Curse you, will you never get out of your yokel's ways?" said I to +myself. It was as if I had said to the sergeant, speaking of Jane, "She +shall draw you a mug of beer." I was clean nonplussed, and felt as +uncomfortable as a boiling crawfish, but fortunately rattle-pate came to +my aid and drowned my confusion in a flood of words. + +"And all he said, y'r ladyship, was that Timothy's coat was too big for +'im. Gom, it beat cock-fighting, it did. Swelp me bob it did. I never saw +a man so staggered as the Mayor, but he's got over it fine, and gone 'ome, +good man, with a crick in his back and near on a pint of my best brandy in +his belly. When these 'ere wild Highland rappers and renders come, he's +just primed up to make 'em a grand speech at bridge yonder, and if that +dunna frighten 'em off, nuthin' wull, and my cellars will be as ill filled +with beer as Timothy's coat is with brawn. I'm getting the best supper on +the Chester road for yer, y'r honour, and that'll mike you feel as bold as +sixpence among sixpenn'orth o' coppers. But come along, y'r ladyship. The +Colonel's upstairs. Follow me!" + +Words ran out of him like ale out of a stunned barrel. He clacked on +incessantly on the way upstairs, and clacked as boldly as ever as he +ushered us into the room, where the Colonel was awaiting us alone. + +"'Ere 'e is, y'r lordship," he said gustily. "'Ere's the nobby gentleman +as didna steal yer 'oss. But yow'd best keep yer eye on 'im, on my say so. +He'll pinch sommat o' yow'n yet afore 'e's done." + +The Colonel, who was toasting his toes at a roaring fire, rose as I +followed Margaret towards him. He made me a precise and formal bow, which +I imitated farmer fashion. "This is Master Oliver Wheatman of the +Hanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host, +lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could not +have heard her. + +"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow. + +"The honour is mine, sir," I replied, repeating mine, and wondering the +while if I ever should learn to bend like a willow instead of a jointed +doll. + +"Nay, I protest, sir." This suavely to me; then, stepping sharply towards +the host, he stormed, "Damn ye, man, get on the landlord's side of the +door, or I'll rout it down around your lazy ears. Slids! I've shot an +innkepeer for less in the Rhineland." + +"Them 'ere furriners--" began the host, but the Colonel swamped him with +something of which I could make out nothing except that it was a fairly +successful attempt to talk and sneeze at the same time. It finished off +the host, who retired, beaten with his own weapon. The victor, waiting +till the door was closed, tiptoed up to it and listened carefully. + +"A rather interesting feature about dad," whispered Margaret with +mischief in her eyes, "is that when he's angry he curses in French, and +when he's mad he execrates in German." + +"Neatly rounding off his daughter's accomplishments," said I. + +"And how, sir?" + +"Who gibes in English and loves in Italian." + +She stabbed me with her eyes, and said, "Your services give you no +privileges, sir." + +"I know that, madam, but my yokelship does." + +I spoke lightly, keeping the bitterness of my heart out of my voice, +though it had surged up into my speech. I may have been mistaken, misled +by the flickering fire-light, but the anger seemed to melt out of her eyes. + +The return of the Colonel ended our cut-and-thrust. + +"Soldiering," he said, "is nine-tenths caution and one-tenth devilment. +Yon glavering idiot has long ears to match his long tongue. And now, sir, +let me greet you as I should." + +He seized my hand, shook it warmly, and continued, "A father's thanks, +Master Wheatman, for your kindness to my Margaret. Anon she shall tell me +the whole story, but I know already that you are a gallant gentleman whom +I shall have the honour of turning into a fine soldier, and neither angel, +man, nor devil could make you fairer requital." + +Praise and promise were far beyond any desert or hope of mine, but I said +boldly, "I am no gentleman, but just a plain, few-acred yeoman, who has +tried to serve your daughter--" + +"Tried?" he snorted. "Tried, indeed! I've been soldiering man and boy +these forty odd years, and, slids, I've never known better work." He ran +me up and down with his eyes and, turning to Margaret, continued, "By the +beard of the prophet, Madge, Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards is a +vast improvement on the Baron." + +Margaret blushed daintily and hastily covered his mouth with her fingers. + +"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night." + +"Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight. +"This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, the +prepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her was +at Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden." + +"Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting. + +"So it was," he said heartily, conceding the point. "Escorted by, or +escorting, I was never clear which, a fat German baron nearly five feet +high, who begged me to horsewhip her into marrying him." + +"You shot him?" said I, so very energetically that Margaret's pout turned +into a smile. + +"Dear me, no," he said, pretending to yawn. "I left him to Madge, poor +fellow! I hope you've given her every satisfaction, Master Wheatman." + +"That he hasn't," said Margaret briskly. "He's spent far too much time +putting me in what he considers my proper place." + +"My friend," said he to me gravely, "you're in for a dog's life." + +"You're right about the life, dad, but wrong about the dog. Good-bye till +supper, you nasty ripper-up of your daughter's character!" + +So saying, she kissed him on each cheek, smiled at me, and left us. + +"I'd like to sluice the jail feeling off myself," said I to the Colonel. + +"Right," he replied, looking at his watch. "You've just half an hour. I +find England irksomely restful and law-abiding after the Continent, but +I'm glad of it for once. I should be damnably vexed if I'd hanged you, and +Madge wouldn't have liked it either." + +He had a grave voice, like a judge's, and a quick, pert eye, like a +jackdaw's. Outwardly he was as unlike Margaret as the haft of a pike is +unlike a lily, but I already saw her spirit in him. + +"Sir," said I, "when I am fortified by a good supper, I will venture to +indicate my preferences on the subject." + +He took out his snuff-box, tapped it carefully, opened it, and held it +out to me. + +"You have begun well, sir. I hear you are a great scholar, Latin and all +that, quite pat. Damme, sir, those ancients understood things. They knew +how to honour the gods, for they made soldiers of 'em and set 'em fighting +in the clouds. There's divinity for you! You've got twenty-eight minutes." + +I laughed and left him. + +The room in which my introduction to the Colonel had taken place was +immediately over the archway. Its window opened on to a balcony which, +supported on thick oak balks, stood over the causeway of the street; its +door was in a passage leading from one wing of the house to the other, and +in the passage were three leaded lattice-windows of greenish glass, +plentifully sprinkled with blobs and nodes, giving on the long inn-yard. +The room was thus admirably situated for people in our precarious +position, having a look-out back and front, and a way of escape right and +left. + +The cherry-cheeked lass who had thrown me the kiss was tripping past the +door as I opened it. She told me that she had been attending on ''er +ladyship,' and willingly led me to a bedroom and brought me thither the +things I needed for my sluicing, among them a passable razor and a +huckaback fit to fetch the hide off a horse. + +"Give me now the kiss you threw me," said I, as she was turning to leave. + +"Nay, sir," she said. "You're not in trouble now, and dunna need it." + +"Lassie," said I, "that's a right womanly reply, and here's something to +buy a ribbon with that shall be worthy of you." And I gave her one of the +dead Major's guineas. + +"Thank yer, sir," she said. "And besides there's no need for you to be +kissing the likes of me." + +"You're a sweetly pretty lassie," said I. + +"Y' dunna want to be gawpin' around after pennies when there's guineas to +be picked up," she replied, with a toss of her head. "Struth, I wish at +times I wasna quite so pretty. There's some men, bless you, I know one +myself, such fools that they think a pretty wench doesna want kissin'. +But, sartin sure, there's never been the like of 'er ladyship in Newcastle +in my time. I'll 'ave a ribbon on Sunday as near the colour and shine of +'er ladyship's hair as money can buy, and Sail'll wish 'er'd never been +born. I'll Sim 'er." + +With this terrible threat she flounced out of the room, and I laughed and +wondered who and what 'Sim' was. A decent fellow and a good tradesman, I +hoped, and wished him pluck and luck. + +While I was tidying myself up, my mind was busy with the strange tangle +things were got into. The mysterious Master Freake, after turning the +Mayor into his pliant tool, had apparently disappeared. The Colonel had +not breathed a word of explanation, and seemed to feel so secure that he +was dawdling in the town as if no enemy were at hand. Of the state of +affairs in the town itself I knew nothing. The one clear thing was that I +had got my neck right into the noose, and Brocton could, and would, pull +tight at the first opportunity. What did all this matter? What did any +untoward event or result matter? I was going to be a soldier, and, after +the fashion of love-lorn Cherry-Cheeks, I said to myself, "I'll Jack him!" +I was going to be near Margaret, and, so rejoicing, bethought me of the +hapless Roman's "_Infelix, properas ultima nosse mala._" And what did +that matter either? I rubbed myself the colour of a love-apple, humming +the while old-time ditties long since driven out of my head by the Latin +rubbish. Jack was right. Of course it was rubbish. "Latin be damned," said +I gleefully. "Nothing counts but life and love." + +There was more than a pinch of swagger in me as I made my way back to the +passage overlooking the yard. Arrived there, I cautiously opened the +nearest lattice and peered out. The inn-yard was dark and silent, and I +was on the point of closing the window when I heard the clatter of hoofs +on the stone-paving under the archway. A moment later a man on foot came +in sight, and was followed into the yard by two men on horseback, one of +them in charge of a led horse. + +At once all was bustle. Ostlers ran up with lanterns, and the host came +forward, candle in hand and a multitude of words on his tongue, to order +things aright. + +The man afoot was Master Freake, and it was clear that the riders were +men of his, for I heard him ask them if they were quite clear as to their +instructions, and both answered respectfully that they were. I could see +they wore swords and that their horses were splendid, powerful animals, +not much inferior to Sultan himself. Who and what was this man--"plain +John Freake," as he called himself,--who carried large sums of money, +domineered over self-important burgesses and mayors, who was served by +such well-appointed horsemen, whom Master Dobson, a parliament man, +feared, and my Lord Brocton had thought it worth while to attempt to put +out of the way? + +It was a riddle I could not read, but as I stood there, peering round the +half-open lattice at the scene below, I was happier than ever I had been +in my life. "Poor old Jack," said I to myself, "sweating and swearing over +your riff-raff dragooners, and here am I, who envied you yester-morn, on +the top rung of life." + +"We shall get it if we're late," said Mistress Margaret playfully in my +ear. "Not because dad worries whether he eats or not, but because he's so +strong on mil-it-ary dis-cip-line." I write the words so, as a poor, paper +imitation of the mincing gait she could put into her speech, which was +ever one of her delightfulnesses. "You'd have been the better," she went +on, "for a bringing-up on a troop-sergeant's switch. See what it's done +for me!" + +So she challenged me to admire her, and indeed I think that the witch was +verily bent on casting a spell over me. No words can paint her as she +stood in the dim-lit passage, the infinite sum of womanhood, peerless in +every grace and gift; not now the tense, proud Margaret of the quick +rebuke and the shattering sarcasm, but the mirthful, trustful, grateful +companion of our boy-and-girl escapade. + +"I think you're right, madam," said I. "Bloggs, dear old chap, flogged +the meaning of Virgil into me, but I wish he had flogged in some of the +meaning of life along with it. I feel as helpless as Saul would have felt +with David's sling and stones." + +"Are you as one fighting a Goliath?" + +"I am," said I, not able now to speak lightly, and not daring to look at +her. Could any enterprise be more hopeless than the one my heart, against +all the strivings of sense and reason, was beginning to set me? Through +the open lattice I watched the flicker of lanterns in the yard, where the +horses were being upped and whoaed stablewards. + +"You will favour me, sir, with your escort into supper," said Margaret. + +This brought me to myself with a jerk. I closed the lattice, offered her +my arm, and we walked towards the guest-room where the Colonel was +awaiting us. + +"I think you'd better revise your knowledge of the Scriptures, Master +Oliver," said she very quietly as I led her into the room. + +"In what respect, Mistress Margaret?" + +"You seem to have an imperfect recollection of the way in which Goliath +met his death. It's idle to say we're late, dad, when supper's not yet +served." + +He exploded into words I did not understand. "It's all right, only +French," whispered Margaret mischievously. "It means 'name of a dog.' I +could swear better myself." + +"That's right," stormed the Colonel. "As fast as I curse soldiering into +one ear of him, you coax it out of the other! I'll be thankful when you're +under Mother Patterson's wing in Chester." + +The coming of Cherry-Cheeks and one of the hard-favoured maids with the +supper, followed by our host with the wine, followed in turn by Master +Freake, put an end to my first lesson in soldiering and the imprecatory +wealth of continental languages, and straightway the host slopped over +with apologies for the delay in serving the supper. + +"Things are a bit upset in the town, y' mun know," he said, "and every +wench in the 'Rising Sun' 'as been a devil unknobbed all day. This +red-faced hussy here, when 'er was wanted to set the table, was off to see +if that spindle-shanked Sim across at the Mayor's was safe and sound. And +besides, my lady and y'r 'onours, the famous steak-and-kidney puddin' o' +the 'Rising Sun' must be boiled to a bubble or it's dummacked. If one got +spiled, the news 'ud run down to Chester and up to London in no time, and +the 'Red Lion' 'ud get all my customers. His Grace of Kingston put up at +the 'Red Lion' in all innocence until his worship, for old friendship's +sake and a bottle of brandy, 'ticed 'im over 'ere to one of my puddin's. +'E started an inch off the table and ate till 'e touched, as we say in +Staffordsheer, and then sent for 'is baggage, and 'as lain 'ere ever since +in the great bedchamber over y'r yeds, an' I'm thinking to call it the +Duke's Room an' charge sixpence extra for it. It's worth another sixpence +to sleep in the same bed as a duke's slep' in. If it ain't, by gom, I'd +like to know what he is for. Damn if y'r can tell by lukkin' at 'im." + +What I have for convenience' sake set down here as a continuous speech +addressed to us all, was really a series of remarks addressed to whichever +of us appeared for the moment to be listening, and broken by commands, +scoldings, and threats addressed to the women. The tail-end of his remarks +made me cock my ear, for it indicated that we were at the centre of the +danger zone. + +"If I were you," interposed Master Freake at last, "I'd coax Prince +Charlie to sleep in it and then charge a shilling extra. A prince, and my +dislike of his ways doesn't unprince him, is surely worth twice as much as +a duke." + +"Swelp me bob," cried the delighted host, slapping his thigh in high +glee, "that 'ud be better than a murder. It's wunnerful how a murder 'elps +a 'ouse. Tek the 'Quiet Woman' o' Madeley. There was a murder there, and a +damn poor thing of a murder it was, nothing but a fudge-mounter cuttin' a +besom-filer's throat; poor wench, 'er lived up on th' Higherland yonder, +and I'll bet it was wuth two-and-twenty barrel of beer to owd Wat. A +murder's clean providential to a pub--" + +"Damn, get out," vociferated the Colonel, "or I'll provide the murder and +you the corpse." + +The meal, be it said, was thoroughly good in every way. I'm not the man +to despise my belly, and I don't hold with those that do. There are better +things in life than steak-and-kidney puddings, but my experience is they +want a lot of finding. The Colonel would not hear of any talk about our +affairs till supper was over. "I dare say you're all agog to know what +I've been doing and what we are going to do," he said to me. "That's +because you're a youngster at everything and a mere infant-in-arms at +soldiering. When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that the +only things really worth bothering about are supper and bed." + +To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argument +with Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if I +remember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a rare +treat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty. + +At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with a +mischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, but +I prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them." + +"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso." + +"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips. + +"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder." + +She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radiance +of her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're a +brute." + +"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel." + +She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her hand +beneath the hawthorns. + +"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who was +right about the dog's life?" + +"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly. + +The host was rung for, his supper praised to his heart's content, the +table cleared, and a dish of tea ordered for Margaret. Bethinking me of +the sergeant's tuck, which might be useful, I asked the host to bring it +up, and he did so. + +When we were again left to ourselves, the Colonel took the sword, and +examined it with his skilful eyes and practised hands. + +"Somewhat heavy," said he, "but well balanced and well made, and of the +truest steel. Are you a swordsman, Master Wheatman?" + +"I never had one in my hand in my life till to-day," was my reply. + +"Gird him for the wars, Margaret," said he. "So much of the ancient rules +and customs of chivalry as can be observed in these mechanic days shall, +by us at any rate, be observed. In strict law you ought to have spent a +night in prayer and fasting, but your loyal service to Margaret is a good +equivalent. To labour is to pray, say the parsons, and, my lad, always +remember in your soldiering that a so-minded man can offer up a powerful +prayer between pull of trigger and flash of priming. Kneel, Oliver, and in +God's sight you shall be more truly knighted than any capering and +chattering of German Geordie's can contrive." + +And so, in the guest-room of the "Rising Sun," I knelt to my sweet +mistress, and, before God and in the presence of Christopher Waynflete, +Colonel of Horse in the service of the King of Sweden, and John Freake, +citizen of London, Margaret, gravely and serenely beautiful, touched my +shoulder with the sword and then girded it upon me. + +"Sirs," she said, addressing her father and Master Freake, "the accolade +has never been given to a worthier." Then, bending swiftly as a swallow +dips in its flight over the meadows, she whispered emphatically in my +ears, "Yokel it no more!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PHARAOH'S KINE + + +"And now to business," said Master Freake. + +"To pleasure, sir," said the Colonel. "Business is over." + +He was leisurely filling his pipe, an example which Margaret, with a +smile and a nod, gave me permission to follow. + +"Tell us how you escaped," said Margaret. "Master Wheatman cannot too +soon begin to learn the tricks of the trade. Sorry, dad," bending to kiss +his hand; "you needn't look at me in German. I mean rudiments of the +profession." + +"A woman who calls soldiering a trade ought to be forcibly married to a +parson," said the Colonel passionately. + +"There'll be a reasonable quantity of parsons to choose from at Chester," +she retorted, laughing up in his face. + +"Chester? Why Chester?" demanded Master Freake, suddenly tense and +vigilant. + +"I need name no name, but a certain dignitary's lady there, one of our +supporters, undertook to take her in charge while this affair was on," +explained the Colonel. + +Master Freake, it seemed to me, was disappointed with the explanation, +and, knowing that what Margaret wanted was to have the rumour of her +father's intended treachery blown to pieces by his own account, I said, +"There's only one parson in England fit to look at Mistress Margaret, and +he's sixty and married. Let me learn, I pray you, sir, the art of slipping +out of the hands of a squad of dragoons on a road crowded with soldiery." + +"If you think you are to hear a tale that will make you grip the arms of +your chairs, you're in for a sad disappointment. Yesterday and through the +night, they stuck to me as if Geordie had offered thirty thousand pounds +for me, dead or alive, but this morning their hold on me slackened. They +might have intended me to escape. I was put on a fresh horse, about the +best they'd got; the dragoon in charge of me was three parts drunk when we +started; we got mixed up in a crowd of foot retreating south, and +separated from our main body, and finding myself alone on the road with +one man, and him drunk, I just knocked him off his horse, and cleared off +across the fields. + +"I rode on until I got a sight of this town, and the main road into it, +from a hill-top, and watched for an hour or so to see what was happening. +I knew by my pace that I was well ahead of my late escort, and seeing no +signs of them, came on to this inn, and was enjoying a good dinner when I +saw Sultan and Oliver on him. The rest you know. Not much of a tale. Madge +has done better many a time." + +"Do you really think the Captain intended you to escape?" It was Margaret +who asked the question, looking intently at me as she spoke. + +I looked from her to Master Freake and back again, meaning to remind her +that I wanted no convincing, but she still kept her eyes on mine, her chin +cupped in her long white hands, and I was glad of her insistence for I +could look at her without offence. I thought the mellow fire-light made +her look more beautiful than ever. The lustrous yellow hair shone like +molten gold, and the dark blue eyes became a queenly purple. + +"If it were done on purpose it was done cleverly," continued the Colonel, +"for the chance which set me free came quite naturally. The horse I rode +yesterday was wanted in the usual way by a trooper to whom it belonged, +and where so many men were more or less drunk, the choice of my particular +drunkard was certainly accidental. And, besides, what possible motive +could there be in letting me escape? Brocton knows I'm an experienced +soldier of great repute--I state plain facts--and am eagerly expected by +the Prince and by my old companion-in-arms, Geordie Murray. They couldn't +have planned it better if they had wished it, but it's absurd to say they +wished it. There ought to be a cashiered captain and a half-flayed dragoon +somewhere south of us. Damme, I merit that at least." + +He bent over the hearth to relight his pipe. Master Freake smiled and +rubbed his hands gently. Margaret's eyes blazed with triumph, and +challenged me, still me, to share it. Woman-logic was clean beyond my poor +wits. I was sick for action. These glorious interludes with Margaret gave +me no chance. It was like setting me afire and asking me not to burn. + +Thinking of the poor, half-flayed devil behind us, made me think of the +sergeant, and I asked Master Freake, "Did you give the sergeant his papers +and letter?" + +"No," was the ready reply. "The papers dealt rather frankly with certain +regimental accounts, and, since the sergeant is now very bitterly set +against us, may be useful in my hands. I had a shrewd notion that the +letter concerned the title to certain lands as to which Lord Brocton and I +are at odds, and on opening it I found to my satisfaction that I was +right. With your permission, Oliver, I will keep it." + +"By all means do so," said I, anxious to burn again, and turning back to +Margaret. If this silent, capacious man, so great a stranger yet so clear +a friend, had said that the letter was about a new edition of Virgil, I +should have believed him, and also, I fear me, have been equally +uninterested. Latin be damned! + +"Something for you in Oliver's magic-hat," said Margaret smilingly to +Master Freake. "He really must fetch something out for himself soon. +Staffordshire is by far the most delightful country I have ever been in. +Only one little day has gone by, and in that day Staffordshire has given +me more and truer friends than Europe gave me in ten years. I shall cross +its borders with regret. Shall we make the most of it while we have it and +sleep here, dad?" + +"Unless we're routed out," was his reply, "and I do not think we shall +be, for the enemy have all cleared out of the town. Cumberland is, of +course, doing the right thing. He had few men north of Stafford, and fewer +still worth powder and shot. Where the Prince is I've no idea." + +"Resting for the day at Macclesfield," said Master Freake, "and his plans +are not certain, or, at least, not known. The Duke of Kingston has a small +body of horse at Congleton and is watching his movements." + +"Damme," the Colonel broke in, "I did not know we had enemies north of +us. Are you sure?" + +"Certain. One of my men reported the facts to me just before supper." + +"It's awkward, or rather will be awkward if anyone who knows me turns up. +That rascally landlord of ours must have known where Kingston was, but +amid all his talk he never told me that. Damme, somebody's got hold of +him. Still, you can't take the bull by the horns till his nose is +slobbering your waistcoat, so pass the wine, Oliver." + +He refilled his glass and then, leisurely and with his eyes dreamily +fixed on the fire, loaded his pipe with a new charge of tobacco, and went +on smoking. + +"Are you a Jacobite?" suddenly asked Margaret, looking inquiringly at +Master Freake. + +"Dear me, no, Mistress Margaret," was the frank reply. "But you need not +curl those sweet lips of yours, for neither am I a Hanoverian." + +"Then what are you?" she asked again, with the same uncompromising +directness. + +"A Freakeiteian," said he with a smile. + +"It puzzles me," was her brief comment. + +"Let me explain," said he simply. "A Jacobite wants Charles to win; a +Hanoverian wants George to win; a Freakeiteian wants to know who is going +to win." + +By this time Margaret was no more puzzled than I was. Yesterday when I +stood on the river-bank watching my cork, I cared not a rap whether George +or Charles won, and that was an understandable position; but why a man +should be spending money in handfuls, and roughing it in the wilds of +Staffordshire, merely in order to know who was going to win, was beyond my +poor wits. + +"You do not understand?" he said. + +"No," said Margaret and I together. + +The Colonel took no notice. He was puffing away at his pipe, +long-drawn-out, solemn puffs, and gazing at the fire in a brown study. + +"Well, Margaret and Oliver," said Master Freake, "this is no time to be +giving you lessons in the way the great world wags that neither knows nor +cares of outs and ins and party shufflings, but is busy with rents and +crops, and incomings and outgoings, and debts and credits, and wivings and +thrivings. But, believe me, in being anxious to know who is going to win, +I am as plainly and simply doing my duty as is the Colonel who is going to +do his best to help his Prince to win. I am one, and, I thank God, not the +least, of that great race of men who are destined to mould a mightier +England than the sword could ever carve--the merchant of London whose nod +is his bond." + +He spoke with simple dignity and his word was established. I had trusted +him on sight. "His nod was his bond." You saw it in the man's clear, +steady eyes and knew it by the set of his firm, square chin. After a +warning glance at the silent Colonel, he leaned forward, and Margaret bent +to meet him. + +"If Charles loses," he murmured, "many heads will be smitten from their +shoulders." + +The colour left her cheeks instantly and tears welled forth from her eyes. + +"But not the Colonel's," he whispered. + +I was watching her with the eye of a hawk. A smile dawned on the white +face, the sad eyes began to lose their gloom, and my fool of a heart began +to flutter. + +Yet once more he whispered, "And not Oliver's." + +She leaned farther forward still and kissed him. + +And it was just at that moment that the door opened smartly and +Cherry-Cheeks put her sweet head round it and swiftly and peremptorily +beckoned me outside. + +Margaret laughed. + +In the dim passage, Cherry-Cheeks caught my hand affrightedly and +babbled, "Oh, sir, there's the ugliest beast you ever saw spying on her +ladyship. Take your boots off, sir, and creep after me!" + +I tugged them off and we started. Along the passage she flew and upstairs +into the corresponding passage above. Here, outside the Duke's room, she +stopped and whispered, "He'll think I'm that bitch Sal. Hide behind me!" + +She opened the door and stole into the room with me in tow, holding her +skirt and crouching down nearly to the floor. + +She was somewhat broad in the beam, like a Dutch hoy, and all I could see +was a dull glimmer somewhere ahead in the darkness. + +"Ssss-h, damn ye," said the beast fiercely. "Stand still!" + +Cherry-Cheeks took care not to stop till near the light, and then, with +wonderful ready wit, put her right hand on her hip and I peeped through +between arm and waist. + +Full length on his belly lay the man from Yarlet Bank. There was a small +spy-hole in the floor, on the edge of the hearth, and he had his right ear +against it, which was lucky, for it kept his face turned from me. The +notebook lay open on the floor near a guttering tallow candle in an iron +candlestick, and the stump of pencil was clenched in his dirty yellow +teeth. + +I threw my handkerchief on the floor, took my fat little Virgil in my +left hand, and crept out to him. When near on top of him, I gripped him +round the nape of the neck, digging my fingers in his flabby throat, and +he went slimy with fright like a great, fat lob-worm. I swooped down on +him with my full weight, and pinned him to the floor. His big mouth opened +as he fought for breath, and I clapped the Virgil hard and far into it, +tying it tight in with my handkerchief, and gagging him effectually. + +I looked up and found, to my relief, that Cherry-Cheeks, like a sensible +girl, had crept out of the room, and her share in the affair was never +even suspected. + +Drawing my tuck, I touched the back of his neck with the point. He +flinched and squirmed, great drops of sweat larded his nasty face, and I +knew the fear of death and hell was in his marrow. + +"Do exactly what I say," I whispered, "or through it goes. Understand?" + +He could hardly nod his ugly head for the trembling of his body, and I +fairly dithered as I knelt on him. I made him rise, and then caught hold +of the skirt of his coat. Holding him by it at arm's length, I stuck my +point to his neck again, and said, "Forward." + +I marched him downstairs and along the passage. There was great risk of +being met by some one, and it was the most anxious time I had had since +the affair with the sergeant in the house-place at the Hanyards. Oddly +enough, as I drove him along, the thought came to me of the bygone days +when Jack and I had played horses just like this at the Hanyards, and when +my prisoner stuck a trifle at the door of the guest-room, I growled at +him, "Come up!" It was a strange trick of the mind. To me he was just +play-horse Jack dawdling to look at ten-year-old Kate feeding her +chickens. + +I got him in unseen without and unnoticed within, for the Colonel and +Master Freake were again at their arguments of state, hammer and tongs, +and they minded the click of the door behind them no more than the crack +of a spark at their feet. Indeed the Colonel said "Pish!" with great +vehemence, and Master Freake's "My dear sir!" had a shake of pepper in it. +As for me, I like a man who, when he gets into a thing, gets into it up to +the neck. + +Margaret added to my amusement, for as I pricked my prisoner on into the +fire-light, and peeped over his shoulder, he being a good six inches +shorter than I, madam leaned forward and became absorbed in the high +debate. + +"I beg to report, sir," said I, as indifferently as I could manage to +speak, "the capture of a spy." + +"Hang him at daybreak," said the Colonel, without so much as looking at +him. "Pish, man, the trade in salted herrings is no more a nursery of +seamen than I'm--Damme, what's this, Oliver? Damme, it's Weir. Your +servant, Mister Weir, and I shall vastly relish seeing you strung up." + +I gave a brief account of where and how I had found him, making no +mention of our helpful girl friend, but pointing out that he had +co-scoundrels at work for him in the inn. + +"Another good piece of work, Oliver," said the Colonel. "I like the way +you use your available material. I've seen many things used as gags, but +not a book before; yet it makes a very good one. Keeps him quiet as a +stone and withal leaves him free to lick up a few crumbs of learning." + +Margaret had not looked at me yet, and indeed seemed bent on keeping her +face, heightened in colour by the warmth and glow of the fire, turned away +from me. Now a rather big matter had come into my mind, so I said +urgently, "Name of a dog," and thus shook her into looking at me. +Whereupon, I pointed first to Mr. Freake, then to the spy, and wagged my +head sagely. Her quick mind saw at once that I was afraid that our friend +would be compromised if we were not careful. She promptly said something +to her father in an unknown tongue, and by the cock of his eye I knew he'd +taken the point. + +"My good friend," he said, "pray step over to his worship the Mayor and +ask him to come over and commit this rascally spy to the town jail. Say, I +beg, that I am grieved to have to disturb him, but His Majesty's servants +must ever be at the disposal of His Majesty's affairs." + +I grinned behind the spy's back at this masterly way of getting George's +servant to do James's work. Master Freake started at once, and, stepping +with him to the door, I whispered, "Give us fifteen minutes." + +"Right!" he whispered back again. "Look in your holsters!" + +As soon as he had gone, the Colonel ordered me to guard the door, and +this gave me the chance of putting on my boots again. The Colonel, cutting +off with his sword a good length of bell rope, made a swift and most +workmanlike job of tying the spy into a knot. He then opened the window, +and, Margaret taking my place meanwhile, he and I cautiously bundled Weir +on to the balcony, shut down the window, and left him safe and silent. + +"Be in the porch in ten minutes, Margaret, ready to start. Oliver, get +the horses there ready in that time. You ride the troop-horse, and Freake +has provided a mare for Margaret. Quick's the work and sharp's the motion!" + +Margaret and I started together to carry out our orders. Once in the +passage we had to go different ways, and I bowed and was going mine +without a word, when she put her hand on my arm and stayed me. + +"I'm sorry you've lost your Virgil," she said. + +I wondered, as already so many times I had wondered, at the somersaults +of feeling she was capable of. Where was now the Margaret of the short, +disdainful laugh? Not here, in the twilight between the bright room and +the black yard. Here was a subtle, mysterious Margaret, half regret and +half caprice, with one thought in her eyes and another on her lips. + +"So am I, madam. I wish it had been Kate's cookery-book." + +She would have mastered me had I stayed another second. I bowed again and +left her. + +And this is, perhaps, the best place to say that I did not lose my Virgil +after all. Here it is on the table as I write, still the dearest of all my +books. On each side of the healing an irregular curve of teeth-marks cuts +into the yellowing parchment. Dear, brave Cherry-Cheeks sent it home by +the hands of a vagrom pedlar, laboriously and exactly writing on the +package the inscription she found on the fly leaf: + + OLIVER WHEATMAN, Esquire, + of the Hanyards, + Staffordshire, + _Aetatis anno_ 13 + +I routed out ostlers, and by dint of a judicious blend of cursings and +bribings had the horses ready under the archway in time. Margaret was +there waiting, with our pretty maid fluttering around her. The Colonel was +within, settling with the word-warrior host. I helped Margaret into the +saddle and led her horse into the street, turning its head northward. In a +moment, her father clattered after her on Sultan. I went back to smile +farewell to Cherry-Cheeks and deal out my bribes, but was after them +before they had trotted a stone's throw. + +They were cantering towards the bridge by which the high street of the +town crosses a tiny streamlet and again becomes the high road to the +north-west. It was only a pistol-shot from the portico of the "Rising Sun" +to the hither side of the bridge, where a group of townsmen were collected +round a man with a lantern. We had ridden forth into a strangely quiet +town, but before I was half-way to the bridge, and not yet settled down to +my saddle, loud shrieks rang out behind me. Looking back, I saw a woman +leaning forth, candle in hand, from the Duke's bedroom window. She waved +her light and yelled as one distraught. There was no mistaking what had +happened. Sal, the sour-faced hussy who wanted me hanged, had learned the +fate of the spy. Folks rushed from all quarters to see what was the +matter. The sooner we were well out of it the better, and I pricked on to +overtake the Colonel and Margaret. + +I was near on them at the bridge, where the gossips had lined up to watch +them pass. Timothy was there, thankful for once, I thought, of his long +coat, while the man who held the lantern was the man to whom I owed a +drubbing. I wondered what he was doing there with a lantern, for it was a +brilliant moonlight night, and, since he made to run townwards as soon as +he saw who was passing, I felt in my bones that he meant mischief and was +probably in league with the spy. I turned my horse at him before he was +clear of the bridge and tumbled him back headlong on Timothy, who yelled +the most astonishing yell I ever heard, snatched the lantern out of Beery +Breath's unresisting fingers, and with it smashed into him with such a +fury that he beat him to his knees. + +I laughed, for the man had got his drubbing after all, through me if not +by me. As for the other townies, they enjoyed it like a play. + +"Gom!" said one. "He's trod on Tim's gammy toe." + +"Damn if he don't turn on 'is missus when 'er does that," said another. + +The Colonel and Margaret were looking back when I drew level. + +"Anything the matter?" he asked. + +"The spy is discovered, sir," I said. + +"Does that mean harm to Master Freake?" inquired Margaret. + +"Not it," replied the Colonel. "He's got the Mayor in his pocket. Do you +know this country, Oliver?" + +"No, sir," was my answer. "Only in broad outline. This is the main road +to Chester, and away on our right is an open country running up into +roughish moorland and hills. Leek lies that way on the Derby road to +London. The country to our left I know nothing about." + +"Then we'll stick to the main road as long as possible and stop at the +first inn after all danger-spots are behind us. Sorry to turn you out, +Madge, but it was impossible to stop once Weir found us out, since +Kingston and his men might have turned up at any moment, and then we +should have been done for. All we have to do is to get north of him. From +the south we have nothing to fear now. Brocton's dragoons would have +turned up hours ago if there was any intention of trying to recapture me. +Freake had sent one of his men down the road to give us time to clear off +if Brocton did pursue. That was why I was content to stay on at the inn." + +"Weir knows who you are, sir, I take it?" said I. + +"Exactly. He's a notorious Government spy, and is busy here worming into +our local plans. There are plenty of the honest party hereabouts, and +especially over to the west there in Wales." + +"Are we still in Staffordshire, Master Wheatman?" asked Margaret. + +"Oh yes, for quite a distance ahead," I replied. + +"The spirit of prophecy is upon me, gentlemen," she said merrily. "Our +Staffordshire luck is not yet out, and this time it's Master Wheatman's +turn." + +"Well, then, Master Wheatman shall ride ahead and scout for it. About +thirty yards, Oliver. Keep your horse well in hand, and be all eyes and +ears. Damn this moon! It picks us out like three crows on a field of snow, +and this infernal road's as straight and level as a plank. Ride in any +available shadow!" + +I went ahead and set them an easy pace. Work had begun again, the work of +my heart's desire, and all along the Chester road there was no blither +spirit than mine that night. I was astride a flaming sorrel, no match for +Sultan, but still a good sound horse. He knew I was his master and so I +made him a friend, patting his neck, crooning to him, and giving him a +lick of sugar out of my hand. The danger we were in was like wine to my +heart. Enemies ahead and enemies behind, and this bare, bleak, +moon-smitten road between. Now and again, for remembrance' sake and the +joy of it, I cocked my ear to pick out the patter of Margaret's mare from +the heavier, longer strides of Sultan. Yes, there she was, doubtless +murmuring Italian love-ditties to her happy inmost self and thinking of +--Pshaw! This was romancing, and another's romance at that, and it +deadened me against my will, while here was a man's work to do. So I +turned to it and lived. + +I examined the holsters, according to Master Freake's orders. I found a +pair of pistols which, even in the pale moonlight, looked what they indeed +were--handsome, accurate weapons, the best work of the best gunsmith in +London. I was the equal of most men with the pistol, and usually had, +indeed, a capital pair at the Hanyards, but Jack had taken them off with +him on his dragooning. Over and above the pistols and their ammunition I +found a sizeable leathern bag, and the feel of it to my fingers showed +that it was chock-full of money. When I did turn it out next day, I found +near on sixty pounds, mostly in guineas and half-guineas, and a note: + +"Dear lad, this town is very bare of guineas and many of them are lighter +than the law alloweth, but you shall have more as occasion offers.--Your +friend, J. F." + +I turned to the road again with a merrier heart than ever, for I thought, +as Smite-and-spare-not would have thought before me, that the very +handiwork of God Himself was here displayed, in that the seemingly most +untoward events of our journey had been turned into means of strength and +assurance. Had I, as I ought to have done, brought money of my own from +the Hanyards, I should never have started highwayman, and so never have +met Master Freake on Wes'on Bank. + +Three miles or more we made in this manner, and I had heard nothing more +alarming than the hoot of an owl from an ivy-crusted elm. Some distance +back the road had climbed slightly for a space, then fallen into the level +again, and now ran, open and unhedged, across the bleaky top of a barren +upland. I chirruped to the sorrel and gave him another lick of sugar to +comfort him. A moment later, I knew by the forward cock of his ears and +the swift up-shake of his head that something was in the wind, and +strained my own ears to listen, for there was nothing of note visible +ahead or around. + +From far ahead came the faint rattle of hoofs on the hard road. I pulled +up, and, a moment later, Margaret and the Colonel stopped beside me. + +"What is it?" asked the latter. + +"Horse coming this way, sir," was my reply. The sounds were already +plainer. For a full minute he listened carefully. "A good number of them, +and making a smart pace," he said. "It can only be Kingston's advance +guard falling back. Most likely the van of the Highlanders has beaten up +their quarters. Once past them we shall be--Hello! Slids! What's that? +Reinforcements! Egad. Oliver, we're between the hammer and the anvil." + +He turned his head round sharply and so did Margaret and I. From behind +us came again the unmistakable rattle of a body of horse. We were trapped +completely. + +"This is damned annoying," said the Colonel. He looked casually around, +as indifferently as he would have looked round the guest-room of the +"Rising Sun," and added, "Follow me, and ride as if the devil were at your +tail." + +He turned off into the bare, flat country, and we after him. How we rode! +He was making for a little group of trees, some dozen wind-sown pines, +stuck like a forlorn picket in enemy country a stone's-throw from the +road. We got there in a bunch, for there was no time for Sultan's pace to +count. + +"Damn the moon!" he said, and dismounted. "But this is better than +nothing. Take off Margaret's saddle, Oliver." + +I got down, and assisted Margaret to dismount. She thanked me, briefly +and smilingly, as unperturbed as the gaunt pine beneath which she stood. + +The Colonel and I changed the saddles, and in a few seconds Margaret was +on Sultan. I asked him in vain to take the sorrel and leave the mare to +me, for she was getting restive, and the Colonel was not quite so able as +I was with a strange horse. I insisted, however, in taking off my coat and +wrapping it about the mare's head, and, being thus blanketed, she gave us +no further trouble. By the Colonel's orders, Margaret, on Sultan, took her +place between us, heading for the open country, while he and I turned to +the road. The thin, straggling pine-branches cast but little shadow, and I +knew it was next to impossible for us to pass unnoticed. + +"Now, Madge," said the Colonel, "it's bound to come to a fight. As soon +as the fun begins, off you go like the wind into this bog-hole in front of +you, and in five minutes you'll be out of danger. Make a detour round to +the road again, keep the moon behind your back, and push on to the nearest +inn. Oliver and I will join you there, if so God wills. If we don't, +you're on the Chester road. Have you your money still?" + +"Yes, dad." + +"You understand, Madge?" + +"Quite clearly." + +"Then kiss me, sweetheart." + +She kissed him without a word, and turned to look goodbye to me. For a +moment I went all aquiver with emotion. This wonderful new life of mine +had at times to be lived in the outskirts and suburbs of death. +Fortunately, a thought came into my head, and I tugged out the leathern +bag and thrust it into her hand. + +"Don't leave that under the bed," said I, and, being very bold, as one +may be with death at one's door, I drew her gloved hand, with the bag in +it, towards me, and kissed it. She said nothing to me, but the light in +her eyes was like moonlight on the dancing surface of a mountain spring. + +"Look to your pistols, Oliver," ordered the Colonel briefly and crisply. +"See your tuck slips easy in the scabbard. Another minute will decide. You +and I can easily give Madge all the start Sultan requires." + +"Easily, sir," I answered stoutly. + +"Good lad!" said the Colonel. + +And Margaret, leaning across until her lips were near my cheek as I bent +to see what she wanted, said, for the third time, "Well done, fisherman!" +I laughed lightly and was glad, for was not this calm, brave, splendid +woman thinking of how we two had met? + +From the first cock of the sorrel's ears to this so characteristic remark +of Margaret's could not have been five minutes, and now, although owing to +the downward slope to our left I have mentioned, and its corresponding +slope to the right, neither body was yet in sight, they were so nearly on +us that differences between them became obvious. The southern troup was +small, was not travelling beyond a smart trot, and was, so far as the men +were concerned, absolutely quiet. The body from the north was large, was +forcing a hot gallop, and much noise and shouting came from the troopers. + +It was plain that we were in for it. The men from Newcastle were no doubt +coming north as a reinforcement, but it was absurd to suppose that they +had not been told of our doings and of our escape northwards. They had not +overtaken us, and we must be on the road somewhere. The men from the north +had not met us. Never since the world began had two and two been easier to +put together. There was only one place for us to be in and this was it. A +short parley, a glance our way, and an overwhelming force would dash at +the picket of pines. + +The bare road lay there in the moonlight, half a mile of it in clear view +on either hand. The two bodies came in sight within a few seconds of each +other, and the Colonel snapped his fingers and chuckled. + +From the north a wild rush of spurring, flogging, shouting, cursing +horsemen, about a hundred of them. No order, no discipline, no soldiership +--nothing but mad haste and madder fear. + +The mare began to plunge, and the Colonel, leaping off, nearly strangled +her in the coat. The sorrel got uneasy but gave me no real trouble. Sultan +took not the slightest notice of the din behind him, and leisurely cropped +the tough bussocks of grass at his feet. + +I looked to the road again. The southern body was small, not more than a +score, compact, riding smartly but with military order and precision. The +man at their head, the officer in command, no doubt, spurred on and began +to shout at the oncoming northerners. He might as well have spoken fair +words to an avalanche, and the men behind him began to waver and most of +them pulled up. It was useless. The torrent swept into them and bore them +backward, tumbling some of them over, men and horses together, but +incorporating most of them in its own madness. In less than five minutes +the last batch of dragooners had cursed and spurred themselves out of +sight, and the bright moon shone down on a road once more bare and white +save for a few scattered patches of black. + +The Colonel uncovered the mare's head and nuzzled her. All he said was, +but that very gleefully, "Geordie, my boy, I'll be routing you out of St. +James's within the fortnight. I'll learn you to neglect the King of +Sweden's Colonels! Damme, Oliver, it made me think of Pharaoh's kine--one +lot eating the other up. Now, sweetheart my Madge, we'll have your pretty +eyes a-bye-bye in no time." + +"I never saw anything so funny in my life," said Margaret. "On with your +coat, Oliver, before you take cold." + +From all of which I learned to take, as they did, the fat with the lean +in soldiering, and not to care a brass farthing which it was. Still, I was +as yet so young at the game, that, though I was careful to swagger it out +and say nothing, I did wonder why the body from the south was so small. + +And I wonder as I write whether it was or was not the mistake of my life +merely to wonder then. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"WAR HAS ITS RISKS" + + +I slept unsoundly and in snatches. Margaret was in the room beneath me, +"dreaming in Italian," thought I, in unhappy imitation of her dainty gibe +at her father. A problem was on my mind, and that was ever with me an +enemy to sleep. I meant being the best of soldiers, and this that worried +me was a military problem. To be short, I could not help asking myself, +"Were the dragoons from the south intended as a reinforcement to the horse +from the north?" And somehow I could not think they were. As the top-dog +spirit in me put it: "It was like sending Jack to reinforce me. _Quod +est absurdum_." + +Time the Explainer permits me to be frank. There was this other side to +my problem that I could not bring myself to be sure the Colonel's escape +had come merely by happy chance. He was no party to contriving it, of that +I never doubted, but it did look like a contrivance. We had been at the +"Rising Sun" for six hours or more. Stone, the nearest head-quarters of +Cumberland's forces, was only nine miles south of it, yet no attempt had +been made to follow the fugitive. No, thought I again, that's wrong. Weir +was sent on his track and actually found him. But this was as useless, so +it seemed, as sending twenty dragoons, hundreds being available, to +reinforce a thousand stout horse. There was no proportion between the ends +proposed and the means adopted. + +If the handful of dragoons were not a reinforcement, it was a pursuit of +us, and this posed another problem. Why had the pursuit been allowed to +flag all the afternoon and evening, to be taken up again far on in the +night? What fresh fact, if any, had determined it? I could think of none, +nor, on reflection, was one wanted, since both Master Freake and Jack had +last night witnessed to the worn-out state of Brocton's horses. +Consequently his dragoons would have been sent after the Colonel earlier +had they been fit. Their coming, when fit, proved their anxiety to retake +him. Therefore he was not allowed to escape, and the conclusion of my +argument hit its major premise clean in the teeth. + +"Oliver, my boy," said I to myself, "say a bit of Virgil and go to sleep. +These matters are beyond you." + +I picked on a passage and started mumbling it to myself. It was a lucky +hit, for when I had in solemn whispers rolled off the great lines in the +sixth Aeneid which foretell the work and glory of Rome, I thought of my +Lord Ridgeley, thiever by cunning process of law of most of my ancient +patrimony, and his blackguard son, my Lord Brocton, lustfully hunting the +proud, gracious woman beneath, and I said grandiosely to myself, "Rome's +destiny is thine too, Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, and these betitled +scullions are the proud ones you shall war down." + +The notion was so soothing that I fell asleep again. + +I have leaped over uninteresting but by no means unimportant events. We +were staying the night at a wayside hostel, called the "Red Bull," +situated at the point where a cross-road cut the main road. We were still +in Staffordshire, a matter on which Margaret had laughingly placed the +utmost importance, though an urchin, standing by the rude signpost, could +have flung a pebble into Cheshire. Houseroom was of the narrowest, and I +was tucked away in the attics, in a room I had to crawl about in +two-double, walking upright being out of the question. It was the grown-up +daughter's room, and she had been bundled out to make place for me, a fact +I did not learn till it was beyond need of remedy. The lass had a good +pleasant woman to mother, but her father, the host, was an +ill-conditioned, surly runt, whose only good point was a still tongue. + +Margaret was in the room below, and her father next to her along a narrow +gangway. From my attic I got down to this gangway by means of a staircase +hardly to be told from a ladder. The gangway, just past the Colonel's +door, became a little landing whence three or four steps led down to a +larger landing, from which one could mount up to the other and +corresponding half of the house or descend to the entrance hall with which +the various rooms of the ground floor connected. + +I awoke again in a dim dull dawn. Tired of these bouts of wakefulness I +got off the bed--for I was lying full-dressed even to my boots--and crept +softly to the window. I would keep watch and ward for Margaret, as a true +knight oweth to do. Then, if my obscure misgivings were unfounded, I +should at any rate have done my duty. + +There had been a slight fall of snow, enough to cover the ground and +bring everything up into sharp relief. My window was a dormant-window, its +sill being about four feet from the eaves. I flung it open, careful not to +make a sound, pushed out head and shoulders, and took stock. + +I dipped my fingers in the snow and found there was near an inch of it. +The "Red Bull" stood back from the road, and on each side of the inn +proper, outhouses and stables jutted out to the wayside. Drawn up under a +hovel on the left was a huge wagon piled with sacks, probably of barley +bound for Leek, a town renowned for its ale. + +Without was silence and stillness, as of the grave, and it was nipping +cold, but my mind was happily busy, having so many delicious moments to +live over again. If by some unhappy chance I never saw her again and lived +to be a hundred, I should never tire of my memories. She had as many +facets as Mr. Pitt's diamond, as many tones as the great organ in +Lichfield Cathedral. To know her had enriched my life and opened my mind. +What Propertius had said of his Cynthia, I repeated to myself of my +Margaret, _Ingenium nobis ipsa puella est_. 'My' Margaret! Well, it +did her no harm for me to think it, and, after all, the sly, silly +babblings of my under-self could be shouted down by the stern voice of +common sense. + +Here, under the stress of a new force, my thoughts flew off at a tangent, +and I said to myself, "Bravo, Romeo! You shall find me a rare Juliet." + +I had, indeed, much ado to keep from laughing aloud, as my situation was +delicious, not to say delicate. For, on a sudden, noiselessly as the beat +of a bat's wing, two feet of ladder had shot up above the eaves, and even +now an ardent lover was hasting aloft, dreaming of lispings and kissings +to come. I mustn't frighten him too soon or too much or he'd drop off, but +as soon as he was fairly on the slope he should sip the sweetness of lips +of steel. So I crept back, got a pistol, and stood to the left of the +window. + +I waited till his body darkened the room and then took a furtive look at +him. It was no village lover climbing up at peep of dawn to greet his +lass. It was one of Brocton's dragoons, one of the five who had been at +the Hanyards. + +In a twink I shot him. Without a word, he slithered down the tiles, +leaving a mush of blood-red snow. His right leg slipped aslant between two +rungs of the ladder, and his body, checked in its fall, swung round and +dangled over the eaves. + +In the room was a large oaken clothes chest. I dragged it to the light, +tilted it on end, and jammed it into the gable of the window, which, +luckily, it fitted completely, and so blocked any further attack from the +roof. Snatching up my weapons, I tumbled down the ladder, only to hear the +heavy tramping of feet upstairs. Standing by Margaret's door, I waited +until the head and shoulders of the first man came in sight. He carried a +lantern, and its yellow rays lit up for me the ugly face of the sergeant +of dragoons. I fired my second pistol at him, crashing the lantern to +pieces. Down he went, whether hit or not I did not know. In the darkness I +heard the rush of a second man who came on so fearlessly and fast that he +was far into the passage before I met him with a fierce thrust of my +rapier. I thrilled with the zeal of old Smite-and-spare-not as, for the +first time, I felt the point of my rapier in a man's body, and drove it +home with a yell. Down he went too, with a gurgle of blood in his throat, +and Margaret, coming out of her room, stumbled over his body as she raced +after me along the passage. + +The Colonel was at the stair-head before me, but there was, for the +moment, no work for him. The enemy had tumbled noisily downstairs into the +hall, and were collecting their scattered wits after their first rout. To +my regret, the raucous cursings of the sergeant showed that he had not +been killed and apparently not even hit. + +"God damn ye!" he yelled. "Ten of you driven back like sheep by a raw +youth. I'll settle with ye for it. Think I picked ye out of the stews and +stink-holes of London to stand this? There isn't one of ye with the guts +of a louse. I'll take the skin off the ribs of you for this, damn ye, and +most of your pimp's flesh along with it!" + +"What sort of guts was it brought yow tumblin' down so quick?" put in the +surly voice of the landlord. "Yow cudna 'a come any faster if yer blasted +yed 'ad been blown to bits instead of my lantern." + +Some of the men laughed at this, whereon the sergeant blasphemed enough +to make a devil from hell shiver. He cowed the dragoons, but the innkeeper +only growled, "A three-bob lantern blown to bits! Fork out three bob!" + +"I'll have him if I have to blow the house to bits!" vociferated the +sergeant. + +"Fork out three bob!" repeated the host. + +Not a word had passed between us on the stair-head, and now, at the sound +of preparations for a fresh assault, the Colonel took each of us by the +arm and led us into his room. + +"The stair-head cannot be held against fire from the opposite landing," +he whispered. + +When inside, he locked the door, and I helped him pile the bed on end +behind it, heaping all the other furniture against the bed-frame to hold +the mattress and bedding up against the door. Margaret, at a brief word of +command, had meanwhile kept watch through the window. + +"That's a fair defence," he said contentedly. "What are these devils?" + +"Brocton's dragoons," said I. "I've settled two of them, one on the roof +and one in the passage." + +"Good lad! Ten of 'em would be long odds in the open; here we ought to +have the laugh of them. Load your pistols! Damme, it's a bit chilly. +Fortunately there's some warm work ahead." + +He stamped up and down the room, swishing his arms round his body, and +stopping every now and again to make some trifling change in our hurriedly +contrived barricade. Margaret stood by quietly at the window, and when I +had reloaded my pistols, I joined her there. + +The ladder had been shifted and now lay along in the snow. There, too, +lay the body of the dragoon I had shot, crumpled up in his death-agony. A +brood of owls were clucking and cluttering about under the hovel, and +there, too, leaning against the rear wheel of the wain, were a lumpish +wagoner and our surly host. The one was stolidly smoking, the other was +holding the battered lantern out at arm's length, and I could, as it were, +see him growling to the lout at his side, "'Ew's to fork out for this'n?" +A girl went towards them from the house, circling, with averted head, far +round the dead dragoon, bearing them from the kitchen a smoking jug of ale. + +"In England," said Margaret, "snow adds the charm of peace and purity to +the countryside. There's never, I should think, enough of it to give the +sense of utter desolation and deadness that it gives one in Russia." + +"It's so uncertain with us," was my reply. "I've known a whole winter +without a snowflake, and I've walked knee-deep in it in May." + +The Colonel stopped his marching and swishing and came to the window. + +"Don't bother, Madge," said he. "We'll pull through. Hallo, I didn't see +yon wagon last night." + +He took out his snuff-box and, hearing the noise of the enemy in the +corridor, walked with it in his hand across to the door. He tapped his box +with accustomed preciseness, but I, a step behind, having lingered for a +last look into Margaret's eyes, heard him mutter, "Damn the wagon!" + +"Ho, there within, in the King's name," shouted the sergeant. + +"Ho, there without, in the devil's name," mimicked the Colonel. + +"I want speech with Colonel Waynflete," shouted the sergeant. + +"Then, seeing that Colonel Waynflete cannot at the moment give himself +the pleasure of slitting your ruffian's throat, you may speak on," was the +reply. + +"You and your daughter may proceed on your way unharmed if you surrender. +It's only Wheatman the farmer, now with you, that I want." + +He could be heard all over the room to the last syllable, and Margaret +quickly left her place at the window and came towards us, but the Colonel +in a stern whisper ordered her back. "How dare you leave your post! Watch +that wagon!" She crimsoned and returned. + +"If Master Freake were here, Oliver, I think he would remark that there +was no market for colonels to-day," said her father to me with a wry +smile. He gave the lid of his snuff-box a final tap, opened it, and held +it out to me. In the sense of the term known to fashionable London, he was +not a good-looking man, but as he stood there, waiting gravely while I +took my pinch, he had the irresistible charm of the highest manliness. + +"Do you agree, Colonel?" bawled the sergeant. + +"I do not," he shouted, and took his snuff with great relish. + +"By God," and now the sergeant roared like a wounded bull, "I'll have you +all in ten minutes." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Here, I say, you +Wheatman, do you agree?" + +"Certainly," said I, "I'll come at once." And I should have gone, there +and then, but for the Colonel, who, as I laid a hand on the nearest piece +of our barricade, promptly said, "I've only one way with deserters," and +levelled a pistol at my head. + +"For Margaret's sake, sir," I pleaded in low tones. "Let me go!" She had +flown like a bird across to us, and so heard me. + +"I had hoped you thought better of me, Master Wheatman," she said coldly, +and went back to her watching. + +The sergeant heard, or at least understood, what had been said in the +room. We heard him say, "You know your job. Fifty guineas for Wheatman, +dead or alive. Any man who touches the girl will be flogged bare to the +bones." Then we heard him walk off along the corridor. + +The dragoons without made no attempt on the door, and we joined Margaret +at the window. Hardly had we got there when half a dozen dragoons dashed +out of the porch and ran for the road. The Colonel flung the window open +and emptied both his pistols at them, but they zigzagged like hares and +the shots appeared to be thrown away. In the road they halted, formed a +line in open order, and levelled their carbines at the window. All three +of us moved aside, the Colonel tugging Margaret with him to the right +while I hopped to the left. + +"Take it easy, Oliver," he said very good-humouredly. "Until they think +of the wagon we're safe enough on this side. These walls would almost +stand up to a carronade." + +With a clash the first bullet came through the window and knocked a huge +splinter off a bedpost. There were six shots without, and six bullets +spattered in a small area opposite. + +"That's quite good shooting," said the Colonel. "Much better than I +expected from such poor stuff." + +I told him what Jack had said about the mixed quality of Brocton's +dragoons. These good shots, I explained, were picked men off the Ridgeley +estates, probably gamekeepers and bailiffs. + +"Very like," he said. "They're used to shooting but not to fighting. +Rabbits are more in their line." + +There was no stir in the passage, and I wondered what the job was these +men had in hand. The fusillade at the window was kept up unceasingly, +generally in single shots, sometimes in twos and threes. The barricade +took on a ragged appearance. I occupied my mind in thoughts of Margaret. +She was in the corner, beyond her father. + +The bullets had by now nearly cleared the window of glass, fragments of +which covered the floor of the room. Through the cracking and spluttering +we at last heard the noise of a wagon moving. The Colonel and I leaped up +and peered round the edge of the window. It was being pulled by two +horses, and was shifted till it was exactly opposite the window, and to my +surprise some twelve feet distant. The sacks made a firm platform level +with the window-sill. Flush with the window it would have made an +admirable means of attack, but why the space between? + +While the wagon was being put in position, there was a cessation of +firing. We saw the six dragoons from the road climbing on to the wagon, +while as many again joined them from the inn. The Colonel said, "Now's our +chance!" and fired carefully. One man, who was poised on the rear wheel, +fell into the road and hopped round to the back of the wagon holding his +right foot in his hand; another, already mounted, sprawled full length on +the sacks. + +"That's the way," he said, with much satisfaction, and stepped aside to +reload. "See if you can improve on it." + +By this, under orders from the sergeant, two or three dragoons were +creeping under the wagon to fire from behind the wheels. I dropped a man +standing at the horses' heads and then, in the nick of time and on second +thoughts, made sure of the mare and hit her in the neck. She squealed, +kicked, and plunged, and the other horse sharing her fears, they began to +drag the wagon off. The sergeant and two or three men leaped at them and +managed to quiet them, and then took them out of the traces to save +further trouble of the sort. The Colonel, meanwhile, having reloaded, +brought down another dragoon with one shot, and ripped open a sack with +another. It was barley. + +For perhaps a minute the window had been as safe as her corner, and +Margaret had been quietly watching the scene. Now, with seven or eight men +lying on the top of the sacks, with a stout row of them piled in front as +a bulwark, it was time for us to run to cover again. This time, of her own +accord, she came my side, and nestled beyond me in the nook between the +wall and my body. + +The men in the passage still made no sign. + +"Slids, Oliver," said the Colonel, "I can't see this ugly devil's game +yet, but, whatever it is, you came near to spoiling it. Damme, it was a +good idea to pepper the horse. Curse me! Where were my fifty years of +soldiering that I couldn't think of it?" + +"I suppose it comes from my being--" + +The sweetest and whitest fingers in the world closed my mouth, and +Margaret, thinking that I was on the verge of backsliding, whispered in my +ear, "The readiest-witted gentleman in England." + +I tingled with the joy of her touch, and turned to her so that I might go +on into the coming fight with her last shade of emotion burnt into my +memory. A stream of lead poured through the window, but the spluttering of +bullets on the walls of the room had no more effect on me than the +pattering of hailstones. + +"May I finish my sentence, madam?" + +"Not as you intended, sir." + +"I can't go back on old Bloggs' teaching, madam." + +She pouted and frowned, both at once, and the Colonel bawled through the +noise of the fusillade, "Being what?" + +"Fond of Virgil," roared I back again. + +Margaret laughed. Could a nightingale laugh, it would laugh as Margaret +laughed then. + +Before the music of it died away the sergeant showed his hand, and death +at its grizzliest grinned through the window. A great mass of damp, +smouldering straw, lifted on pikels, was thrust into the window-frame, +filling it completely, and thick wreaths of dense, foul smoke eddied into +the room, while through the straw the rain of bullets poured on, smashing +and splintering on walls and ceiling, door and barricade. + +The Colonel slashed and poked at the straw with his rapier. Telling +Margaret to crouch on the floor, I crawled on my belly and fetched the +bed-staff, which stood in its accustomed corner of the chimney-piece. It +made a much more serviceable tool for the job, and I flung it across to +the Colonel, who seized it and worked it like a blackamoor till he was +almost the colour of one, and had, to judge by his voice and demeanour, +got almost beyond his German in his rage. Asking for Margaret's +handkerchief, I tied it loosely round her mouth, my heart near to bursting +as I looked into her calm and patient face. Then I lay down flat and +wormed out into the room and, after a hard struggle, wrenched off one of +the rods which carried the rings of the bed-curtains. I remember that, as +I lay there, writhing and struggling, I counted the bullets, eleven of +them, as they spattered about me. However, I got back to Margaret's side +untouched, and poked and thrust and slashed to make a hole near her face +between straw and window-frame. + +Our efforts were practically useless. The straw was cunningly fed from +below, and the pall of smoke was now so heavy and dense that the fringe of +it was settling down on Margaret's tower of yellow hair, and as I watched +the rate at which it was falling, I knew the end was coming. The Colonel +had worked with the energy of despair to tear down the vile enemy that was +killing us by inches, and now suddenly collapsed and fell like a log to +the floor. Margaret would have crawled to him, but I kept her by main +force against the wall while I wriggled out of my coat. + +"We have one chance left, Margaret," said I. "Your father is only +overcome by the smoke--see, there's no sign of a wound about him--and his +fall is a godsend. Give me your other handkerchief and lie down flat, face +to the floor and close to the window, and listen for my next instructions." + +She did so without a word. I wrapped my coat loosely about her head, and +before I could close it in the smoke cloud was settling down on her, even +as she lay. I was nearly done for, but she was safe for a few minutes. +Lying full length on the floor, under the window, I tied her handkerchief +to the end of the curtain-rod, thrust it through the straw, and waved it +about as vigorously as I could. + +The sergeant's voice rang out. The firing ceased. The foul masses of +straw were removed. Then the scoundrel came forward and leered up at me. + +"Do your terms hold good?" I shouted. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Colonel Waynflete and his daughter will be left at liberty to go their +way, if I surrender?" + +"Yes," he said. + +"Then in one minute I'll be with you," said I. Stepping inside the room, +I first of all pulled the Colonel to the window, tore loose the clothes +round his neck, and laid his head on the window-sill, in the good sweet +air. Then crawling to Margaret, I unwrapped the jacket, and said briefly, +"Force some of Kate's cordial down your father's throat. Goodbye!" + +I returned to the window, clambered out, hung at arm's length, and +dropped to the ground. Striding up to the sergeant, I said carelessly, +"Your turn this time, sergeant. To-day to thee, to-morrow to me--it's +neater in the Latin but you wouldn't understand it--and all Brocton's +dragoons shan't save your ugly neck." + +"Where the hell's your coat?" he demand fiercely. + +A cool question, indeed, after trying to suffocate me, but it was never +answered. The air was on a sudden filled with the weirdest row I had ever +heard. It was as if all the ghosts in Hades had suddenly piped up at their +shrillest and ghostliest. This was followed by a splutter of musketry, and +this again by loud yells. Looking round I saw a swarm of strange figures +sweep into the yard, half women as to their dress, for they wore little +petticoats that barely reached their knees, but matchless fighting men as +to their behaviour. On they came, with the pace of hounds, the courage of +bucks, and the force of the tide. + +It was the Highlanders. + +The sergeant fled into and through the inn and, with the men from the +corridor, got clean away. Not a man else escaped. Half the dragoons on the +wagon were picked off like crows on a branch. The rest, and those in or +about the yard, got their lives and nothing else barring their breeches, +and that not for comeliness' sake but because they were useless. Every man +jack of them, in less than five minutes, looked like a half-plucked +cockerel, and their captors were wrangling like jackdaws about the plunder. + +I glanced at the window. To my relief, the Colonel was already sitting +up, pumping the sweet air into his befouled lungs, and Margaret smiled +joyously and waved her hand to me. I was waving victoriously back to her +when my attention was forcibly diverted by two Highlanders, who collared +me, intent on reducing me to a state of nature plus my breeches. There was +no time to explain, neither would they have understood my explanation. One +of them, a son of Anak for height and bulk, already had his hands to my +pockets. Him I hit, as hard-won experience had taught me, and he fell all +of a heap. His fellow was struck with amazement at seeing such a great +beef of a man put out of action so easily, and stood gaping over him for a +while. Recovering himself, he snatched a long knife out of his sock and +made for me murderously, but I had meantime fished out a guinea and now +held it out to him. He took it with the eager curiosity of a child, looked +at it wonderingly, made out what it was, and then ran leaping and frisking +up and down the yard, holding it high over his head, and shouting, "Ta +ginny, ta ginny, ta bonny, gowd ginny!" + +I was saved further trouble by the approach of one of the officers, or, +to speak with later knowledge, chiefs, of these wild warriors. He informed +me in excellent English that he had heard the firing, seen my parleying at +the window and my subsequent surrender, and desired to know the meaning of +it all. + +"The gentleman at the window," I explained, "is Colonel Waynflete, +travelling to join Prince Charles. The lady is his daughter, and I am +their servant, by name Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. These King's men, +belonging to my Lord Brocton's regiment of dragoons, attacked us; we +refused to surrender, and the rascally sergeant in command smoked us out. +I pray you, sir, to run the wagon up to the window that I may hand them +down, since the door is heavily barricaded." + +It was done immediately, and he and I ran up to the window together. + +"You young dog," said the Colonel. "You surrendered after all." + +"In strict accordance, sir, with military usage, I used my discretion as +commander of the party." + +"Slids!" His grey eyes had the old laugh lurking in them already. +"Commander of the party?" + +"There were only Mistress Margaret and I left," said I. + +"And the peppermint cordial," put in Margaret. + +So in sheer wantonness of joy we sought relief in bantering one another. +Then I introduced the chieftain, who had stood there silent and graceful, +a fine figure of a man, finely and naturally posed, and mutual compliments +and thanks passed between us. Yet in that first minute, with Margaret and +the Colonel perched on the sill, and the Highlander and I standing on the +sacks of barley, I saw another thing happen, for the big things of life +come into it with the swiftness of light and the inevitability of death. A +chieftain proudly climbed the wagon; a bond-servant humbly handed Margaret +down. As was fair and courteous, and suitable to my real position, I let +him do it, and aided the Colonel, who was as yet somewhat shaky. After +seeing him safe down, I rushed up again and recovered our weapons and my +coat. Down once more, I was getting into my coat when Margaret, who was +talking to the Highlander, looked at me and said quietly, "Pray, Master +Wheatman, fetch me the domino from my room!" + +She said it simply and mistress-like, and of course I shot off to do her +bidding. I supposed, as I went, that it was the white snow all around that +had brought out the blue in her eyes so vividly. + +In the inn I found the host, the lantern still dangling from his finger, +notwithstanding his greater woe, and his pleasant, placid wife weeping +bitterly. Of the original twenty guineas of the Major's, I now had only +four left, and these I thrust into her hand as I passed, and told her to +be comforted. + +From my shooting the dragoon on the roof to my running upstairs for the +domino was in all not more than twenty minutes. I skipped over the man who +had fallen to my maiden sword. He was lying between the door of the +Colonel's room and that of Margaret's, and opposite one of the doors on +the other side of the passage. Darting into Margaret's room, I recovered +the domino. + +I was only a moment, but in that moment some one opened the door in the +passage against which the man lay and so brought him into the light, and I +could not help taking a look at him. + +My heart stopped with the horror of it; my whole being fell to pieces at +the agony of it. I remember running from it as from the gates of hell. I +remember reeling on the stairs. I remember a headlong fall. I remember no +more. + +It was Jack. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +IN THE MOORLANDS + + +I was in bed, there was no doubt about that, and a strange sort of bed +too, for it moved lightly and deliciously through the keen, open air like +the magic carpet of the Eastern tale. The bedposts at my feet were most +curiously carved into life-like images of warriors, so life-like, indeed, +that when the one on the right turned its shaggy head and spoke to the one +on the left, I was not shocked and scarcely surprised. Bed it was, +however, for mother's soft, smooth hand was on my cheek, and under the +balm of its touch I went off to sleep again. + +When my eyes opened again, the mists had cleared out of them and I was no +longer in the land of shadows. The carven bedposts were Highlanders; the +bed was a litter slung between four of them; the touch was hers. Somebody +spoke, the Highlanders came to a halt, and Margaret bent over me. Her face +was pale, grave, and anxious. + +"Are you better, Oliver?" she whispered. + +"As right as rain," I answered, pushing my new trouble behind me and +speaking stoutly because of the whiteness of her face. + +"Try to sleep again. You've had a bad fall, and there's an ugly cut in +your skull." + +"Indeed, I'll do no such thing," was my reply. "I don't want carrying +like a great baby, and I do want my breakfast. I'm as empty as a drum." + +"Can you stand?" + +"Sure of it, and also hop, skip, jump, and, above all, eat and drink with +any man alive. So, if you can make these men-women understand you, tell +them I'm very grateful, but I've had enough." + +The four tousled warriors were easily made to understand what I wanted, +and, stout and strong as they were, welcomed the end of their labours with +broad grins of satisfaction. They lowered me to the ground, and +immediately Margaret's hands were outstretched to help me to my feet. But +for the black death between us, it would have been new life indeed to see +the colour and sunshine creeping back to her face, and to hear her +whispered "Thank God!" + +My head was bumming and throbbing, but nothing to speak of. The gash was +behind and above my right ear, so I must have somersaulted down the +stairs. Margaret, as I learned later, had bathed and bandaged the wound, +and after my recovery of consciousness, it only gave me the happy trouble +of persuading Margaret that it gave me no trouble. + +I stamped and shook myself experimentally, took a few strides, and jumped +once or twice, Margaret watching me as curiously and carefully as a hen +watches her first chicken. + +"Do mind, Oliver!" she said. "It bled horribly, and you'll start it again." + +"I believe I needed a blood-letting," said I. + +"Should you ever need another," she said crisply, "I hope you'll take it +in the usual way. How did it happen?" + +I had steeled myself for the inevitable question, and so answered +ruefully, "I must have tripped over the domino." + +"If it were not your mother's I would never wear it again," she said, +plucking the skirt of it into her hand and shaking it as if it were a +naughty child. "I thought you would never come round. For nearly an hour, +I should think, you looked stone-dead. Then you just opened your eyes, but +closed them before I dared speak, and lay so at least another hour. You +have given me such a fright, sir, that, now you are up and about again, +I'm beginning to feel I have a grievance against you." + +"I'm sorry, madam," said I, very soberly. + +"Now you're laughing at me, sir," was the brisk reply. + +The word made me shiver. "Laughing"--over Jack's body! Margaret was in +her stride back to her mistress-ship again yet her eye changed instantly +with her mood when she saw me wince. Indeed, her mind flashed after my +mind like a hawk after a pigeon, but I dodged the trouble by looking +casually around to examine our whereabouts. + +We were following a track down a dip in an open moorland. Across the +shallow valley, and climbing the slope ahead of us, was another small body +of Highlanders, whom I took to be our scouting party. The sun was a dim +blob in the sky, and I saw from its position that our direction was +easterly. A joyous hail from behind made me spin round, whereupon I saw +the Colonel on Sultan and the young Chief on the sorrel turning the brow +behind us. It took them a few minutes to trot down to us, and before they +reached us four more wild warriors, our rear-guard apparently, came in +view. One of them was my son of Anak, astride Margaret's mare, and so +looking more gigantesque than ever. + +"Good morning, commander!" was the Colonel's greeting. "Slids! But I'm +glad to see you on your feet again. How's the head?" + +"It still bumbles a bit," said I, "but, truth to tell, I'm thinking more +of my breakfast than my head. I'm as empty as a drum." + +"It's a guid prognostick to feel hungry after sic a crack o' the head," +said the chieftain, smiling, and I thought with a twinge what a handsome, +wholesome sight he made. + +"I'm another drum," said the Colonel, "but deuce take me, Oliver, if I +know how we're to be filled. Madge would have us start off with you at +once, quite rightly too, and we'd neither bite nor sup before we took the +road." + +"And where were you taking me?" cried I. + +"To the doctor's," explained the Colonel. "There's one in a village +tucked away somewhere among these hills, and we've a lad on ahead to guide +us. Colonel Ker, who commands the Highlanders who rescued us, gave us our +friend here, Captain Maclachlan in the Prince's army, and a great +chieftain among his own people"--here the chief and I bowed to one another +--"and a dozen or so of his stout men as an escort. Two plaids were knitted +into a litter, a log of a man named Wheatman was bundled into it, and off +we started breakfastless, as I said before." + +"I'm very grateful to you, Mistress Margaret," said I. + +"Don't be silly!" she answered very sharply. "It is no praise to tell me +I acted with common decency. And you weren't bundled in!" + +"I was not praising you, madam," I retorted, quick as ever to return like +for like. "I was thanking you, and I venture, with respect, to thank you +again." + +"Bother old Bloggs!" she said, suddenly all of a glow. + +"Bloggs? Who's Bloggs?" asked the Colonel, plainly enjoying the fun. + +"A rascally schoolmaster," she explained, "who flogged Oliver into a +precision of speech which I find most trying. But I must not miscall the +dear old man, for I stole his supper." + +"I wish he'd flogged him into precision on a staircase," said the +Colonel. "Damme, I am hungry." + +"I'm thinking there'll be a dub of water in the bottom yonder," said the +chieftain, "and Mistress Waynflete shall, if she will, take her first meal +Highland fashion." + +As I firmly declined to be carried another yard, the Highlanders unmade +my litter and resumed their plaids. In the trough of the valley we found a +streamlet of clear sweet water, and our repast consisted of a handful of +oatmeal, of which every clansman carried a supply in a linen bag, stirred +in a horn of water. It was not our Staffordshire notion of a breakfast, +but it was better than nothing. + +"Water-brose is a guid enough thing at a pinch," said Maclachlan to +Margaret, "guid enough to take a big loon like yon Donald to London and +back." + +Donald, it appeared, liked an addition to it, notwithstanding his chief's +praise of it, for he was taking a long pull from a leather bottle. This, +he explained, was usquebaugh, "ta watter of life," and the spice of poetry +in the description tempted the Colonel and me to try a dram. The Colonel +probably had had worse drink in his time, but even he made no comment. I +would almost as lief have had a blank charge fired into my mouth. + +While we all took our brose, and Maclachlan squired Margaret, the Colonel +told me how it had happened that the Highlanders chanced to come to our +rescue in the very nick of time. My own trouble is to get my tale straight +and simple, and I have no intention of making a hard task harder by trying +to interweave with the threads of my own story a poor history of these +important days. Mr. Volunteer Ray saw much more of these things than ever +I did, and the curious reader may turn to his fat, little, brown volume +for particulars. He was on the other side, and is too partial for a +perfect historiographer, but the account of things is there, and +reasonably well done too. But as what happened to Margaret, the Colonel, +and me, happened because of the campaign of the rival armies, I must boil +down what the Colonel told me if I am to make my tale clear. The Colonel, +to his credit, as I think, was so enthusiastic over all matters military +that he was rather long-winded in his account, and, in like fashion with +our housewifely Kate, it behoves me, so to speak, to make a jar of jelly +out of a pan of fruit, which is easier done with crab-apples than words. + +According to the Colonel, one of the master maxims of the military art +is, "Find out what the enemy thinks you are going to do, and then don't do +it." My Lord George Murray, the Prince's chief adviser in military +matters, had acted on this plan, and had given the go-by to the Duke of +Cumberland in grand style. At Macclesfield, the traveller to London had +choice of two high roads, one through Leek and Derby, and the other +through Congleton and Stafford. Leaving the Prince at Macclesfield with +the bulk of his men, Murray had pushed with a big force as far as +Congleton on the Stafford road, and the news of his advance had made +Cumberland withdraw all his northerly outposts to his head-quarters at +Stone. It was the last body of horse, routed out of Congleton, which we +had watched from the pines last night, racing in fear and disorder back to +the main of their army. Before daybreak Murray had sent on a force of +Highlanders under Colonel Ker towards Newcastle, to maintain the illusion +that the Stafford road was the one the Prince would take, and the vanguard +of this force, under Maclachlan, had saved us at the "Red Bull." Murray +himself was marching from Congleton across country to Leek, while the +Prince was marching thither also from Macclesfield. Murray would be there +first, and did not mean to wait for the Prince, but to push on as far as +possible towards Derby. We, too, were bound for Leek, where we should be +safe at last, and the end of the Colonel's explanation came, not because +he had said all he could have said, but because Donald was yelling to the +clansmen in preparation for our retaking the road. + +Maclachlan accepted with alacrity an offer I made to go ahead and join +our advance. He ordered Donald to accompany me, giving as his reason: "For +he kens the English fine when the spirit of understanding is on him, and +ye'll easy get it on him by raxing him a crack in the wame, same as ye did +back yonder at the yill-house." + +The Highlander maintained the expression of a wooden doll throughout this +explanation, but, as I leaped hard after him across the brook, I overtook +a grin on his face that promised well for my future entertainment. + +"She pe recovert," he said. "Tat was a foine shump." + +Before I could reply Margaret was upon us. + +"The mare is quite frisky. She thinks me a mere _fardello_ after +Donald. You're sure you're all right, Oliver?" + +"So near right, madam, that I beg you not to worry about me further," +said I. + +"Worry about you or worry you?" + +It hurt me to have her go so chilly all of a sudden, but I replied +frankly, "Both. It does indeed worry me to have you breakfastless in these +wilds through my doings." + +"Yes," she said, smiling down on me, "I ken fine the distinction between +water-brose and ham and eggs." + +"We are still in Staffordshire," I said cheerily, "and I'll go ahead and +see what I can do for you. Now, Donald, your best foot first!" + +He and I started ahead again, leaving her waiting for the rest of the +party, detained by some explanation on the Colonel's part of the military +aspects of the lie of the land. + +"There's a wheen foine leddies wi' ta Prince, Got bless him," said +Donald, "but when yon carline gets amangst 'em she'll pe like a muircock +amangst a thrang o' craws. She'll ding 'em a'." + +I expected that Donald would cherish ill will to me for my blow, but in +this I was wrong. So far from bearing me a grudge, he quite obviously +liked me for it. He had a fist, or nief, as he called it, nearly as big as +a leg of lamb, and almost the first thing he did when we were alone was to +hold it out, huge, dirty, and hairy, and put it alongside mine. He +scratched his rough head in his perplexity. + +"At Gladsmuir," he said, "'er nainsell did take ten Southron loons wi' +'er own hant, wi' nobody to help 'er, an' now one callant had dinged 'er +clean senseless wi' nothin' but a bairn's nief." + +"It wasn't clean fighting, Donald," said I. "Nothing but a sort of trick. +If you were to hit me fair and square I should snap in two like a carrot. +Tell me how you captured the ten men!" + +It was a longish story, at any rate as he told it, in quaint uncertain +English, intermixed with spates of his own Gaelic as he got excited over +the account of his prowess. One of them was an officer, and Donald +finished up by ferreting out of his meal-bag a magnificent gold watch, +lawful prize from his point of view, taken out of the officer's fob. + +"Ta tam t'ing was alife when I raxed 'er out of 'is poke," he said, "but +'er went dead sune after. She can 'ave 'er for a shillin'." + +He had no idea, nor could I make him understand, what it was and what +purpose it served. When it had run down for want of winding, to his simple +mind it had 'died.' He pushed it into my hand as indifferently as if it +had been a turnip, and I promised to pay him at Leek, for my pockets were +empty again and Margaret had the bag. + +"'Er nainsell wad rather 'ave a new pair o' progues," said he. "And what +for does anybody want a thing tat goes dead to tell ta time wi'? T'ere's +ta sun and ta stars, tat never go dead." + +As we walked rapidly we overtook our party soon after settling the matter +of the watch. The plough-lad who had been pressed as guide told me we were +near the road to Leek, and I let him return. We dropped down to a rough +road running our way, and a mile or so along it the roofs of a village +came in sight, and we halted till the main body came up. + +"What is it, Oliver?" asked the Colonel. + +"Breakfast, sir," said I. + +We marched into the village in military array. At our head strode Donald, +stout of heart and mighty of hand, with two pipers skirling away at his +heels, and the clansmen stepping it out bravely two abreast behind them. +Margaret came next, with me at her mare's head, and the Colonel and +Maclachlan brought up the rear. + +Our arrival created as much stir as an earthquake. The Highlanders, in +twos and threes, swarmed into the houses and ordered their unwilling hosts +to prepare them a meal. That it was war I was engaged in was, for the +first time, brought clearly home to me when I saw a fearsome Highlander, +with claymore, dirk, and loaded musket, posted at each end of the village. +A touch of ordinary human nature was, however, added, when the children, +fearless and happy in their ignorance, sidled up to the sentries and +stared at them as eagerly as if they had been war-painted Indians in a +travelling show. + +At first, we, the gentry for short, intended to seek accommodation in the +inn, poor and shabby though it looked, and Donald was ordered thither to +give instructions. The Colonel and the chieftain rode along the village to +observe how things were going, and this left Margaret and me together, and +spectators of a delightful little passage. For as Donald approached the +inn-door, the hostess, a sharp-nosed, vixenish woman, charged at him with +a very dirty besom and routed him completely. Truth to tell, Donald, who +had the sound, sweet nature of a child, had all the natural child's +indifference to dirt, but even he, long-suffering in such matters as he +was, had to stop to scrape the filth out of his eyes. This gave me the +chance of making peace, and I went up and explained that we should pay for +everything like ordinary travellers, good money for good fare. + +"Oh aye!" she said. + +"Jonnock!" said I. + +"You're a Stafford chap," she asserted. + +"I am," I agreed, "and I'll see you done well by." + +That settled her, and Donald was settled too, for his immediate wants +were satisfied by a large glass of brandy, and those more remote by a +bucket of water and a towel. + +"Gom!" said the virile little woman to me, "a wesh'll do him no harm. +I've got the biggest gorby of a mon," she went on, "between Mow Cop and +the Cocklow o' Leek. He's gone trapesing off, with our young Ted on his +shoulders, to see yow chaps march into Leek. There's about a dozen on 'em +gone, as brisk as if they were goin' to Stoke wakes. Fine fools they'll +lukken when they comes whom to-nate." + +As it happened, the "Dun Cow" was after all left to Donald and the +pipers. When I rejoined Margaret, she said, "Pray help me down, Oliver, +and we'll find the doctor, and have him dress your head. And, once out of +Donald's sight, I'll have the laugh that's nearly killing me to keep +under." + +I helped her down, and said, "Never mind doctor! That fine old church +yonder must be well worth looking into." + +"You will mind, sir," she flashed. She beckoned to Donald to take charge +of her mare, and then waylaid a passing girl, running from one sentry to +the other, and got her to show us the doctor's. + +So we started thither, and as we went she said, "Really, Oliver, you are +inconsiderate at times." + +"Nonsense," said I. "It's my head." + +I was angry, not at her words, for I knew she did not mean them, but at +my inability to see what the fascinating jade was driving at. + +"Inconsiderate," she repeated firmly. "You'd be content to be introduced +to the Prince with a great swathe of dirty, blood-stained linen round your +head, regardless of how it reflected on me." + +"Reflected on you?" I echoed blankly. + +"Yes. We shouldn't match. I suppose dear old Bloggs was a bachelor?" + +"He was," said I, resigning the contest in despair. + +The doctor lived in a fair-sized stick-and-wattle house. He was a dapper +little man, with a cleverish, weakling cast of face, and was all on the +jump with the turn things had taken. He had just opened the door to us, +and was eyeing us uncertainly, when the Colonel and the Chief, returning +on foot from their inspection, having left their horses to be baited under +the watchful eye of a Highlander, stopped beside us. + +"Are you the doctor?" asked Margaret promptly, as if to forestall any +backing out on my part. If I could have joyed at anything, I should have +been overjoyed at her keenness in having me seen to. + +"Yes," he said, but very softly. + +"Then please attend to this gentleman's wound," she said. + +"Is he a rebel?" he asked, so loudly that he might have been talking to +some one across the street, and instinctively I turned round There, sure +enough, was the parson, a pasty, pursy, mean-looking rogue, coming across +to see what was doing. + +"It's his head I want you to attend to," retorted Margaret, "not his +politics." + +"I doctor no rebels," said he, louder than ever. + +"Man," intervened Maclachlan, taking a pistol from his belt, and +emphasizing his words by gently tapping its barrel on the palm of his +hand, "if in ten minutes yon head isn't doctored to pairfection, it's your +own sel' will be beyond all the doctoring in England." + +"It's against all law," said the doctor. + +"I'm the law in this clachan to-day," said Maclachlan simply, still +tapping away with his pistol. Hearing the parson behind, he turned round +and added drily, "And the gospel." Hereupon the parson's face took on the +appearance of ill-made, ill-risen dough, and he turned and slipped off +with creeping, noiseless steps, like a cat. + +"Come in," whispered the doctor. + +"Ye're a man o' sense," said Maclachlan, and pushed his pistol back into +his belt. + +We all passed into the hall, and the doctor made the door carefully. + +"That damned pudding-face is a Whig," said he, "and so, of course, he's a +Justice. The Squire's a Whig, and he's a Justice. Here am I, well-reputed +in the faculty, and my wife coming of the Parker Putwells, one of the rare +old county stocks--none of your newfangled button-men and turnip-growers +--and I'm no Justice, because I'm a Church-and-King man of the old +school." + +"They went out of fashion with flaxen bobs," said I. + +"Come on, my tousled macaroni!" said he. "There's nothing the matter with +the inside of your head at any rate, though the outside looks as if you'd +been arguing with the parish bull." + +"This is a verra fine house," said Maclachlan slowly and slily. + +"A mere dog-kennel," said the doctor, "considering she's a Parker Putwell." + +"And I'm thinking," said Maclachlan, very thoughtfully "that there'll be +some guid victuals in the pantry and, mayhap, a gay wheen bottles of right +liquor in the cellar." + +"Oh aye!" said he, taken aback. + +"Then I'm thinking we'll e'en have breakfast here and try their merits. +And if it's a guid ane, I'll see you a Justice, whatever that may be, when +the King enjoys his own again. A Maclachlan has spoken it." + +The doctor went to an inner door and bawled, "Euphemia," and a +discontented wisp of a woman answered his call. + +"Madam and gentlemen, my wife, Mistress Snooks, born a Parker Putwell. +Mistress Snooks, like me, will bow to your will with pleasure, nor will +you mislike her table, I assure you. Now, my buck, let's see to this crack +in your head." + +He took me into his druggery, unwrapped the bandage, and examined my wound. + +"So ho!" said he, "a right good sock on the head. How did it happen?" + +I told him. + +"It's lucky for you, my buck," he said, "that you've got a baby's flesh +and a tup's skull, and some one had the sense to wash the cut clean as +soon as it was done." + +He set to work and made a good job of it, with a pledget of lint and +strips of plaister, and meanwhile I speculated as to why, in all these +bottles and jars and gallipots, neither nature nor art could contrive to +store a drug magistral for the blow that had riven my heart asunder. + +"That's better than two yards stripped off a wench's smock," he said at +last. "And a damnably fine smock too, you lucky rascal." + +He twittered a snatch of ribaldry that made my foot twitch in my boot. +Behind his back, I pocketed the priceless relic, dank and red with my +unworthy blood, and followed him back to the company. + +We made a longish stay, and fared well at his table. The doctor was a +good enough fellow in himself, but his wife, a salt, domineering woman, +lived in the light of the Parker Putwells, and he, poor devil, in the +shadow they cast. He was playing a double game too, for whenever the +red-elbowed serving-wench came into the room, he roared his dissent from +our lawlessness, and drank to the King with his glass over the +water-bottle as soon as she went out. Once when she brought us a rare dish +of calvered roach and, with wenchlike curiosity, lingered to pick up a +crumb or two of gossip, we had a snap of comedy, for, in his play-acting, +he would take none till Maclachlan, to keep up the farce, thrust a pistol +at his head and forced him. Whereupon the maid, in plucky fashion, threw a +cottage loaf at Maclachlan and took him fairly in the chest. The doctor, to +his credit, rose to protect her, but she braved it out. She would, she +averred, lend the thingamyjig a better petticoat than the one he'd got on. +"If he mun wear 'em," she added, "he mought wear 'em long enough to be +dacent." The doctor bustled her out at last, palpitating but triumphant. + +Maclachlan had sprung up like a wild cat when the missile hit him. +Luckily he was flustered by the bouncing of the loaf on the table and off +again clean into Margaret's lap, or the ready trigger would surely have +been drawn in earnest. Then Margaret promptly took the edge off his anger +by saying with menacing sweetness, "I'm sorry the fun has gone further +than was desirable, but I will not have the girl blamed for what was in +her a brave deed, nor suffer any unpleasantness here on account of it. +Pray be seated." + +This ended the matter, and Maclachlan, with a wry smile, settled down +again to his fish. + +"It was a verra guid thing after a' said," he explained, "that it wasna +my mouth, for it was an unco' ding. I'm half hungry yet, and, to be sure, +breakfast and broillerie gang ill together." + +It was well said, and Margaret rewarded him with a smile and engaged him +in merry conversation. The Colonel, who had kept silent during the +trouble, now plied the doctor with questions about the surrounding country. + +"It's a poor biding-place for a Parker Putwell," he replied. "If there's +a drearier or lonelier stretch in England than the moorlands of Leek, I +would not care to see it. I go miles on end about it to visit my sick +folk, and mostly in a day's riding I see nobody but a stray shepherd, a +flash pedlar twanning his way across country with his gewgaws, and now and +then a weaver scouring the outlying cottages for yarn." + +When the meal was over Maclachlan insisted on paying for it, and bestowed +a shilling on the loaf-thrower. In theory, I found, the clansmen paid for +what they had, and Donald, being quartermaster to the party, was very busy +discharging his obligations up and down the village. The only cause of +dissatisfaction, but that not a slight one, was his Scots mode of +reckoning, in which a pint was near on half a gallon, while his shilling +was a beggarly penny. It always took a whirl of his dirk and a storm of +Gaelic to convince a cottager of his accuracy, but he got through at last, +and we reformed our order of march and started for Leek. + +This time I took the sorrel and Maclachlan marched beside Margaret on her +mare, for the Colonel wanted to give me an account, derived from the young +Chief, of the Prince's marchings and victories. The Highlanders being +astonishing foot-folk, and the Colonel being full of analogies and +digressions, the tower of Leek church came in sight before we had got the +Prince out of Edinburgh. + +A halt was called to discuss what was to be done. The Colonel dismounted, +and we followed his example. Margaret, I noticed, coloured slightly as +Maclachlan lifted her down. She had been as cool and unfluttered as a +marble image when she lay in my arms. Maclachlan was for marching on into +the town, and the doubt on the Colonel's face rather nettled him. + +"The considerable town of Manchester," he said, "was entered, and in part +seized, by one Scots sergeant and his drummer. Of a certainty near a score +of Maclachlans can intake yon little clachan." + +"Of a certainty," retorted the Colonel, "Margaret and one of your pipers +would be enough if we only had the townspeople to consider. There's no +game much easier than walking into a lion's den when the lion isn't there, +but it's pure foolishness to play the game till you're sure he's not at +home." + +"Lion! What's to do here wi' lions?" asked Maclachlan. + +"As I'm only a volunteer," answered the Colonel, "and not yet a man of +authority under the Prince's commission, which you are, I must ask your +leave to explain that our getting into Leek is a military problem. I grant +ye it's a little problem, since it wouldn't matter a pinch of snuff if we +marched in and every one of us was promptly hanged in the market-place. +But I undertook to make Oliver here a soldier, and, damme, what you want +to do isn't soldiership, and he'll only learn soldiership by mastering the +little problems first." + +"Like sums at school," said I, whereat Margaret laughed aloud. + +"Damme, you young rascal," stormed the Colonel, "if I'd got my commission +in my pocket, I'd put you under arrest for impertinence." + +"With great respect, sir," I answered, "I beg to say that I understand +that, at a council of war, the youngest officer gives his opinion first." + +"That's bowled you over, dad," said Margaret cheerfully. + +"Damme, I'll bowl you off to Chester to-night," he retorted. "As sure as +a gun's a gun, you'll ruin Oliver. Stop grinning like an ape, sir, at that +jade's tricks, and listen to me." + +"I'm thinking, sir," said Maclachlan, "that in my present responsible +position I would greatly value your observations on the matter in hand." + +This was a clever remark so far as the Colonel was concerned, for he +would have talked to a viper about soldiering, but Maclachlan did not see, +and I did, the delicate little mouth that Margaret made. + +"My observations are simply these," said the Colonel: "We do not know +where Murray is, we do not know where the Prince is, and we do not know +where the Duke of Devonshire is. Any one of them may be in Leek." + +"And who may be the Duke of Devonshire?" asked the chief. "I've never +heard of him." + +"One of Geordie's dandiprats, who has got together a big force of militia +at Derby, and who, if he's any pluck, may have forestalled us all by +marching to Leek." + +"It's sair awkward," said Maclachlan, completely taken aback by the news. + +"It is so," said the Colonel, "and seeing that Oliver knows the rules and +procedures of courts martial, he shall deliver his judgment first." + +"Sir," said I, bowing low, "I would, with respect, suggest...." + +I got no further, for Donald, who was within a yard of my elbow, suddenly +bounded into the air and let off a most astonishing yell. Then he ran up +and down, like a foxhound after a lost scent, gabbling away in Gaelic. The +clansmen put their hands to their ears, and their ears to the wind, +listening intently, whereon Donald ceased his capering and chattering, and +called out to us, "Ta pipes! Ta Prunce! Ta pipes! Ta Prunce!" + +"Whist, ye auld fule," said the chief. "Ye're enough to deafen a clap of +thunder." + +"I'm telling it ye, ta pipes! ta Prunce!" he babbled, and then fell +still, and we all listened. + +The clansmen must have had ears like the bucks of their own mountains. I +could hear nothing but the soft sough of the breeze as it swept o'er the +rank grass of the moorlands, but they, Maclachlan as madly as any of them, +yelled their slogan, and the pipers filled their bags and blew fit to +burst. Like was calling to like across the wilds. + +Margaret glowed with enthusiasm, and the Colonel's eyes sparkled as he +handed me the box for the customary pinch--a courtesy, I found by later +experience, he conferred on very few. Indeed, in my new trouble, the +kindness and affection of the Colonel were becoming my best stand-by. + +"The great game's afoot, Oliver," he said. + +"And we'll play it to the end, sir." + +"Good lad," said he. + +"Donald, ye auld skaicher," said Maclachlan, "get your bairns agait. The +Maclachlans are going to be last, where they should be first, at the +intaking of a town, but the Prince, God bless him, will think me balm in +Gilead when he sees the reinforcements I bring." + +He was in high feather, and it interested me to watch in another the +tonic effect of Margaret's presence. I took no advantage of my capacity as +her body-servant, but leaped into my saddle and sat the sorrel like a +wooden image as he dodged about to get her horsed again and ready for the +road. He was, indeed, fit to serve a queen; the Highland fashion +marvellously well set off the clean, strong lines of his body, and the +single eagle's feather in his bonnet was the right sign to be waving over +him. The top-dog spirit was fast oozing out of me, and I sat there sourly +dusting the skirts of my poor country-tailor-made coat. + +The men were lined up on the rough moorland track, Donald at their head, +and the two pipers filling their bags and fingering their chanters behind +him. Maclachlan took Margaret's rein and began to lead her mare up the +slope of the path, but the Colonel called to him and diverted his +attention, and she stopped beside me. + +"Oliver," she said, "you must let me have your coat for half an hour when +we are settled in the town, so that I can mend it. The holes in it make me +shiver every time I see them." + +"You are very kind, madam," said I, still dusting away, lest she should +see how my hand trembled. + +"Oliver!" + +She forced me to look at her now, she spoke so peremptorily, and when the +blue eyes met mine they were so clear and intent that I feared she might +read my secret. + +"Smile!" + +Smile! I was to smile, was I? And when our Kate got the news at the +Hanyards, the smile would die out of her eyes for ever, for Jack, dear, +splendid Jack, was the weft that had been woven into the warp of her being. + +"I do not smile to order, madam," said I. + +She flicked the mare sharply and cantered up to the level, whither +Maclachlan raced after her with the speed of a hound. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE + + +On our way into the town a thing happened which greatly shook me, being, +as I was, nothing in the world but a small farmer who had never seen the +wars. At a point where the rough road cut across a fold in the moorlands +we saw, half a mile to our right, a herd of cattle being lashed and +chivvied away to the remoter crannies among the hills by a throng of +sweating hinds and fanners. Had it happened our way, thought I broodily, +Joe and I would be there among the like, saving our own stock from the +marauders. Donald looked at them longingly, but our haste brooked no +delay, and besides, as he put it to me later, "It's a puir town, but, +after a' said, better than a wheen lousy cattle, for I've come by a fine +pair o' progues for a twa-three bawbees." + +Leek was as full of Highlanders as a wasp-cake is of maggots, and still +they were swarming in. Donald and the clansmen, indifferent to the crush +and hubbub, clave a way for us to the market-place, where, on the +Colonel's advice, they were dismissed to beat for billets. I then took +charge and led my companions across to the "Angel," where the throng was +so dense that they might have been giving the ale away. + +To get the horses stabled and baited was easy enough, for few of the +Highlanders rode south, although it was different going north again. Then, +leading my companions into the yard, I pushed into the inn and, by good +hap, lighted on the host, nearly out of his five wits with trying to +understand one word of English in a score of Gaelic. + +"Hello, surry!" said I. + +"Gom!" said he, "Staffordsheer at last." + +"I've heard a lot about Leek ale," said I. "Draw me a mug of it!" + +He brought it in a trice, and his face beamed with honest pride as he +said, holding it up between my eyes and the light, "What do you think o' +that for colour and nap? Damn my bones! None of your London rot-gut, +master, but honest Staffordsheer ale. Damme, you can fairly chew the malt +in it." + +"I'll bet you a guinea I've drunk better," said I, with the aleyard at my +lips. + +"I'd bet on my own ale," said he, "if the 'Angel' was full of devils let +alone petticoats. An', as between friends, y'r 'onour, win or lose, dunna +tell my missus you've 'ad better ale than ourn." + +I drank off his ale and said judiciously, "No, I haven't. That's the best +ale I've ever drunk," and handed him his guinea. + +"This'n's a bit of fat along with the lean," said he, spinning the guinea +up in the air, and, countrywise, spitting on it for luck. "Be there owt I +can do for y'r, sir? A gentleman as knows good ale when he drinks it +shudna be neglected for a lot of bare-legged savages that 'anna as much +judgment in beer as a sow 'as in draff." He leaned towards me and added in +a whisper, "I'm giving 'em bouse I wudna wesh my mare's fetlocks in, an' +they're neckin' it as if it was my rale October." + +"It was thundery in the summer," said I gravely, whereat he grinned +intelligently. + +"Y'r 'onour's up to snuff," said he. "Be there owt I can do for y'r, sir?" + +"Fetch the missus," said I, "and we'll talk." + +The hostess came. Her cheeks were brown as her own ale, and we talked, +nineteen to the dozen, for at least ten minutes. + +In the end I snapped up the best parlour overlooking the square for +Margaret's use, and bedrooms for each of us, paying a substantial +bargain-penny, for Mistress Waynflete had handed me back the bag of gold +Master Freake had given me. It would be necessary, I found, to oust two or +three bare-knees who had marked them for their own, but that could easily +be done, if, as was unlikely to be the case, they were sober enough at +night to crawl bedwards. These arrangements made, I pushed out and fetched +in Margaret, who was very grateful for what I had done, and went off to +her room, while we three men took our stand on the bricked causeway and +watched the doings in the square. + +We saw two or three battalions swing into the square from the +Macclesfield road, and the Colonel scanned them keenly, and, as I thought, +anxiously. Even to my untrained eye they were a mixed lot; the bulk of +them, to be sure, were stout, active, well-armed fighting men, who marched +in fair order, six or eight abreast; but there were numbers of oldish men +and boys among them, and many were but indifferently armed. + +"What do you number all told?" asked the Colonel. + +Maclachlan answered in French. There was now no mistaking the gravity in +the Colonel's face, and he took snuff so thoughtfully that, for the first +time, he forgot me. + +"Excuse me, my dear lad," said he, recovering himself and thrusting out +the box towards me. "I hope there's a tobacco-man in the town who sells +right Strasburg. I'm running out, and rappee and Brazil are mere rubbish +to the cultivated palate." Then, looking around the square, he added +cheerily, "Quite a show for the townsmen!" + +Just in front of us, standing on the edge of the gutter, was a little, +ancient, distinguished dame, who had been watching the scene with quick, +avid eyes. She turned her fierce, scornful face up to the Colonel, and +said, "Yes, sir! You are right. It's a show, just a show, for the +townsmen. Yet I remember that, thirty years ago, the fathers of these +spiritless curs were as eager for the cause as is the eagle for his +quarry." + +"So, madam," said the Colonel very gently. + +"So, indeed," she returned. "But now, in their accursed grubbing for +money, they have rooted up every finer instinct, and they think only of +their tradings in silks with the Court ladies of London. Better a fine +gown sold to godless Caroline than a stout blow struck for God-anointed +James." + +She was beyond doubt a lady of quality, but fallen on poverty and now, +worst of all to her, on evil, faithless days. As she stopped, short of +breath with her sharp speaking, for she was very ancient, a mean lout of a +man edged himself up against her to get a better position for watching the +arrival of another body of clansmen. In a fierce access of rage she struck +him with the ebony stick on which she leaned and, almost hissing the words +at him, said, "Back to your buttons and your tassels, Thomas Ashley, and +get grace by thinking on your worthy father!" + +The man sidled off, and she continued, addressing the Colonel, "In the +fifteen his father was one of us, and suffered worthily." + +"For what, madam?" I asked. + +"For the cause," she replied. + +"For what particular service to the cause, madam?" I persisted. + +"He was zealous against the schismatics, sir," she said boldly. + +"Madam," was my reply, "if the zeal of any one of us, townsman or +clansman, takes the same form this day, I shall certainly wring his neck. +We can fight for Charles without burning chapels." + +"Smite-and-spare-not would subscribe to that doctrine," said Margaret, +thrusting her way gently between the Colonel and me, and hooking a hand +round an arm of each of us. Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered +merrily, "_Push of pike and the Word_," and then looked so winningly +at me that the black shadow lifted, and I smiled back at her. + +And now the craning of necks at the angle where the great road curved +into the square, betokened something out of the ordinary, which turned out +to be the arrival of the Prince's life-guards. They were splendid, +well-mounted fellows, clothed in blue, faced with red, and scarlet +waistcoats heavy with gold. With them were the leading chiefs of the army, +and I heard Maclachlan reeling off their names and qualities in the +Colonel's ear. The guard, in number some sixscore, formed three sides of a +square and sat their horses, while one of the leaders proclaimed James and +took possession of the town. + +The cheers of the clansmen died away, only to be renewed more loudly and +proudly when another column swept into the square. Here, indeed, were men +apt for war and the battle, six abreast and a hundred files deep, with a +dozen pipers piping their mightiest, and a great standard flinging to the +breeze its proud _Tandem triumphans_. At their head strode a tall +young man, very comely and proper, with a frank, resolute, intelligent +face. He was dressed in the Highland fashion, with a blue bonnet topped +with a white rosette, a broad, blue ribbon over his right shoulder, and a +star upon his breast. The thronging thousands of clansmen burst into +thundering volleys of Gaelic yells, the waiting leaders bared their heads +and bowed, and I knew it was the Prince. + +After a short consultation with his intimate counsellors, Charles walked +almost directly towards us, making, as it seemed, for the fine house that +neighboured the "Angel." + +Even the townsmen, as he approached, raised their hats and cheered a +little, for he was on sight a man to be liked. When I hear sad tales of +him now, I think of him as I saw him then, and as I knew him in those few +stirring days when hope spurred him on, and the star of his destiny had +not yet climbed to its zenith. I come of a stock that sets no value on +princes, and I would not now lift a hand to snatch the Stuarts out of the +grave they have dug for themselves, but it is due to him, and, above all, +due to the chiefs and clansmen who followed and fought and died for him, +to say that the Bonnie Charlie I knew was every inch of him a man and a +prince to his finger-tips. + +Maclachlan darted out and dropped on his knee before Charles, who, with +kindly impatience, seized the shoulder-knot of his plaid, haled him to his +feet, and plied him with a throng of questions. At some reply made by the +young chief, Charles turned his eyes on us, and, easily picking out the +Colonel, made for him with eager outstretched hands. For his part, the +Colonel stepped clear of the crowd on the causeway and stood at the +salute. He was, I thought, the most self-possessed person in the square, +and, indeed, was taking a pinch of snuff as soon as the formality was +over, while Margaret was red and white by turns, and I shook at the knees +as if expecting the Prince, in the manner of old Bloggs, to call me out +and thrash me soundly. + +The joy of the Prince at being joined by Colonel Waynflete was overflowing. + +"My Lord Murray has talked of you," I heard him say, "until I felt that +you were the one man in England that mattered, and now here you are. I +must tell Sheridan and all of them the good news." + +He turned off and called to a group of men near him, and several of them +came up and were made known to the Colonel. After more handshaking and +chatting, the eager Prince caught the Colonel by the arm and was for +dragging him off into the house destined for his lodging, but the Colonel +in his turn resisted and led him towards Margaret. + +"My daughter, sir," he said, briefly and proudly. + +Off came the bonnet, and Charles bowed low and greeted her with very +marked courtesy. + +"Your prince, madam," he said, "but also your very humble servant. My +Court is a small one, and you are as important and welcome an addition to +it as is your distinguished father to my army. Swounds, Colonel," turning +to him with a merry smile, "I shall put a flea in his lordship's ear when +I see him at Derby. He never so much as mentioned your daughter. Man, one +might as well talk of stars and forget Venus!" + +"There is this excuse for him, sir," said the Colonel, very sedately, +"that on the only occasion on which my Lord Murray saw her, which was at +Turin in 1738, she was a whirlwind of arms and legs, long plaits and short +petticoats." + + +"Whereas now she--but I will reserve my opinion for the shelter of a fan +in a secluded corner at my next little Court." Then, very abruptly, fixing +his eyes on me, all of a swither, with my milk-stained cap in my hand, +"And whom have we here?" + +Whereupon, strangely enough, forgetting all courtliness, Margaret, the +Colonel, and Maclachlan fell over one another, so to speak, in telling the +Prince who I was. For a few seconds there was a gabble of introductions, +which made me feel hot and foolish. + +"One at a time," laughed the Prince, "and, of course, Mistress Waynflete +first." + +"Your Royal Highness," said Margaret, "this is my splendid friend and +gallant comrade, Oliver Wheatman." + +"Enough, and more than enough, for a poor Prince Adventurer. Give me but +the leavings of your friendship and comradeship, Master Wheatman, and I +shall be beholden to you. And now, excuse us, madam, I have much to say to +your father." + +"Sir," said I, "I crave a little boon." + +"You begin well," he said, and added, after a little laugh, "With all my +heart." + +"Here at hand," said I, "is an ancient lady who has faced this rough +crowd and this bitter weather to see the Prince of her heart's desire. She +is brave as a lion for you, but too modest to do more than stand and pray +for you." + +And then he did one of those princely things that made rough men willing +to be cut down in swathes for him. He strode up to her and seized her +trembling hands. + +"Nay, kneel not, dear lady," he said, putting an arm around her to +restrain her. + +"God bless your Royal Highness, and give you victory," she said brokenly. +"This is the hour I have prayed for daily these thirty years, and I thank +God for giving us a Prince so worthy of an earthly throne. The Lord shall +yet have mercy upon Jacob." + +"I thank God," said Charles, "for giving me a friend like you." + +His green plaid was looped up at his shoulder by a fine brooch, a +cairngorm set in a silver rim. This he took off, and pinned it on the +trembling woman's breast. + +"Wear this from me and for me," he said, speaking with great feeling. +Tears were standing in Margaret's eyes, there was a big lump in my throat, +and the Colonel was wasting precious Strasburg on the cobbles in the +square. When the Prince had pinned it there, he doffed his bonnet, bent +gracefully down, kissed her on the lips, and so left her. The standers-by +now cheered in earnest, and the ancient dame fell on her knees in prayer. +When she rose she plucked her robe around her, safeguarding her royal gift +in her withered hands, and was for timidly stealing away. + +"Madam," said I, "I think you are alone." + +"Yes, sir," she whispered. + +I offered her my arm, saying, "Allow me to escort you to your home?" + +The sharp eyes swept over me from my belt upward, and then, without a +word, she placed her arm in mine. I looked around to bow to Margaret +before starting, but she had disappeared. + +We soon reached her house or, rather, cottage, which was in a street +behind the west side of the square. She was too tottery, too dazzled, too +afflated to speak on the way thither, but, at the door, when with a bow I +was intending to leave her, she bade me, in a madam-like way that cut off +debate or refusal, to enter with her. + +Plain to the casual eye, it was the home of decayed gentility. Here would +be refined eating of a dinner of herbs, solaced by talk of prideful +yesterdays. You saw it in the few things that still kept their grip on the +past: on the wall an old, black painting of a knight in ruff and quilted +doubtlet; a pounce-box and a hawking-glove on the chimney-piece, and above +it an oval scutcheon, with a golden eagle _naissant_ from a _fesse +vert_. And hope was ever new-born here, but it was the hope centred in +the Virgin-Mother, posed in ivory over a wooden _prie-Dieu_. Nor did +I feel that I had shifted from my familiar moorings as I bowed my head +when she knelt in prayer. + +"Madam," said I, when, with a happy face, she rose and turned and thanked +me, "it is in your power to do me a great kindness." + +"I shall, then, most surely do it." + +"I ask you to pray for the soul of John Dobson." + +"He was your friend?" she said gently. + +"My friend from boyhood, madam, and this morning I slew him." + +There was silence for a space. Then she said, "I will pray daily for the +soul of your friend, and for you that God will have mercy upon you and +give you peace. We women, who can only pray, do not, I fear, realize how, +for our men, the facts of life seem to make havoc of our creeds." + +"You are right, madam," I said sombrely. "For me to-day there is no God +in heaven." + +"Yet the morrow cometh," she replied confidently. "It has come for me. My +mind goes back to the time when the evil began that our glorious Prince is +now uprooting. In eighty-eight, when I was a maid of some twenty Junes, +not uncomely as I remember myself in my mirror, though not comparable with +your sweet and splendid mistress, we, then the ancient Hardys of +Hardywick, gave our all and lost our all for the cause. Yon scutcheon then +hung in a noble hall. I have looked at it with pride and, God be thanked, +without regret, during nearly sixty years of loneliness and poverty, but I +shall die rich and friended in the possession of this." + +She lifted the brooch to her lips and kissed it, and then, poor soul, +broke into a fit of coughing that racked her thin frame. A comely +serving-woman rushed in to her aid, and together we seated her near the +fire and wrapped a shawl around her. She seemed as one who slept with +half-shut eyes and dreamed. + +"She's of'n tuk like this'n," whispered her woman. "As lively as a lass +at a wedding for an hour maybe, and then dreamy and dead-like for hours at +a stretch. She's seventy-six come June, but I dunna think she'll live to +see it, and to be sure, God bless her, I shall be glad to see her broken +heart at rest." + +She put a smelling-bottle to her mistress's nose, and bathed the white +lips with eau-de-Luce. + +"I love her no end," she said simply. + +It was time to go. I dropped on my knee and kissed the fair, thin, +wrinkled hand. At the touch of my lips she spoke again: + +"Good-bye, Harold, my beloved! The God of all good causes go with thee!" + +She was back in the long-ago with her lover at her knee, sending him off +to fight for the cause, and the ringless finger showed that he had never +come back. + +I stole out of the room with a mist in my eyes. + +When I got on the corner by the Prince's lodging, the first thing that +caught my eye was a calash drawn up in the middle of the square, with two +very elegant ladies in it, and a sprig of a blackamoor in green breeches +and yellow doublet at the horse's head. Margaret and Maclachlan were +standing by, and a merry rattle of conversation was going on between them +and the new-comers, though Margaret, her quick mind interested in the +vivid scenes around, kept turning her head to sweep the square with her +eyes. + +I had always felt and, for the most part I trust, observed the difference +between us, but it struck me now like a blow between the eyes. It was easy +to see that Margaret, for all her grey domino, was the mistress of the +gay, courtly group; easy, too, to catch the meaning of the eyes the +stranger ladies made at one another as they noted with amusement the young +Chief's infatuation. Well, he was there, and I was here, by right. I said +so to myself very savagely, that there should be no mistake about it, but +I must admit to a sour taste in my mouth as I pushed into a passing group +of clansmen, and then dodged behind a clump of ammunition wagons, and so +got into a side-alley unseen by those searching eyes. + +I came to an ale-house where I managed very well, for all that it had its +full share of clansmen stuffed into it, making a square meal of bread and +cheese and cold bacon, washed down with excellent ale. I made a point of +marking myself off as an Englishman by paying for my meal in the English +fashion. + +Sallying forth, and still avoiding the square, I roamed round the little +town, distracting my mind by forcing an interest in what was going on. The +Highlanders were happy, noisy, and full of confidence--not unjustly, for +so far they had played ninepins with the Royal troops. Everywhere they +were hard at it, sharpening dirks and claymores and furbishing muskets, +and such of their talk as I could understand was all of battle imminent. +In the churchyard I found a number of them practising shooting, with a +grand old cross as a target. They had chipped it somewhat already. I +cursed them roundly and then bargained it off at the price of a few +shillings. They turned their attention, with hopeful grins, to the brass +weathercock on the church tower, which I did not deem worth saving. +Moreover, it was a better mark, and good shooting was to be encouraged. + +I mooned around for an hour or so, very miserable. If my mind was idle a +moment, I saw Jack's body lying in the dim-lit passage and the calash in +the market-square. + +Tired of watching the Highlanders, I suddenly struck out for the "Angel," +intending to see how the horses were doing, a necessary task which I was +to blame for neglecting so long. I was going at a great pace along by the +shops on one side of the square and, in heedlessly passing a mercer's, had +to skip aside to avoid a finely dressed lady coming out of the door, with +the shopmaster, his nose nearly at his knees, bowing behind her. She was a +stranger to me and, moreover, I had my eye on the spot where the calash +had stood, so that, having clean avoided her, I was for striding on, but +she said sharply, "What do you mean by such conduct, sir?" + +I cannot remember any other occasion in my life when I have been so +completely taken aback. The elegant lady who stood there, a quizzing smile +on her face and a roguish twinkle in her eyes, was Margaret. + +"I've waited and waited your honour's convenience till I could wait no +longer," she said. + +There was still the delightful mock anger in her voice, but the smile and +twinkle changed their meaning, so to speak. At least I, who delighted to +watch the varying shades of expression sweep over her exquisite face, +thought so as I stood there, twizzling my cap in my hand, and feeling an +utter fool. + +"You cannot expect a perfect match in this light," she went on, plainly +enjoying my discomfiture, "especially as I have had to carry the colour in +my eye." + +"No, madam," said I desperately, having to say something, but not having +the faintest idea of what she was driving at. + +"I disclaim all responsibility if it's a bungle. It will be your fault +entirely. Your arm, sir!" + +I offered her my arm, into which she slipped hers, jammed on my wretched +hat, and together we made for the "Angel." Of course we must meet +Maclachlan, to complete my misery I suppose, and he was keen on joining +us, but Margaret disposed of him in a way that reminded me of Kate shooing +a turkey off from her feeding chickens. Arrived at the "Angel," she led +the way to her parlour overlooking the square, dragged me hurriedly to the +window, and undid the packet. From it she took a patch of cloth and a hank +of silk thread. These she first dabbed on my sleeve, and then flourished +before my eyes. + +"Quite a good match after all! Do they suit me, Oliver?" + +She was dressed in a cinnamon-brown joseph, buttoned at the waist, and +showing, above and below, an under-dress of supple woven material, creamy +in colour and flowered in golden silk. A hat of a military cast, made of +some short-napped fur and set off with a great white panache, half hid and +half revealed her masses of yellow hair. + +"You look perfect," I said emphatically. + +"For my Prince," she replied softly. "Off with your coat, and let me show +you what sort of a housewife I am." + +I did as she bade me, and she doffed hat and joseph. She set me +comfortably before the fire in an elbow-chair, and handed me a new pipe +and a fresh paper of tobacco, and insisted on my smoking. Then, sitting +almost at my feet in a squat rush-bottomed chair, with quaint bow legs and +a back like a yard of ladder, she set to work on the holes Brocton's +rapier had made in my coat. + +I felt very cubbish as I sat feeding my soul on the picture she made as +she bent over her stitchery. A rare hobbledehoy I was in my villainous +coat, but what I looked like in my shirt-sleeves, good linen enough but +home-made and with never a shred of cuff or ruff to them, was past +imagining. + +She was quite silent too, and though talk of any sort would have been +distasteful to me then, for the picture was enough, I could not help +remembering how she had rattled on with Maclachlan. Here was another +cursed deficiency. My conversation was as country-like and +poverty-stricken as my clothes. I had always ruled the roast at our market +ordinaries, where I was looked upon as a bit of a fop and a miracle of +learning, and even my farming was solemnly respected because I was so hard +and ready a hitter. Here, in a parlour and with her, so beautiful that +even her beautiful dress scarce attracted a passing glance, I was dull and +ill at ease. The only thing I did, except to look at her, was to let my +pipe out and light it again, time after time. + +"The man in the shop told me," Margaret said, "that was the best tobacco +that comes from the Americas." + +"I should think it is," said I; "I've never smoked better." + +"It gives you a lot of trouble," she answered, and stayed her stitching +for a moment to look at me. + +"Did you get some right Strasburg for the Colonel?" I asked. + +"No. Is he running short?" + +"Yes," said I. + +"And no marvel, either. He puts his snuff-box under his pillow, and when +I take him his chocolate of a morning, he takes a long, affectionate +pinch, and then says, 'Good morrow, sweetheart!'" + +I laughed, and then fell silent and wondered. While I had been loafing +about the town, she had been attending to my small whims and needs. + +And now, after a smart rap at the door, in flounced a sprightly, elegant +lady, very gay and very certain of herself. + +"What a charming, domestic picture!" she broke out. "I fear I intrude, +Margaret dear, but I'm going to stay. The girl is bringing up the tea, and +I'm positively dying for a cup and a sit-down. Of course this"--turning +gaily round on me, standing there like a great gawk, volubly cursing my +shirt-sleeves under my breath--"is the incomparable Oliver! Charmed to +meet you, sir!" + +I bowed, and Margaret said staidly, "Yes, my lady. This is Master Oliver +Wheatman of the Hanyards. Oliver, I have the privilege of introducing you +to the Lady Ogilvie." + +I bent in the middle again and gabbled something. It was suitable to the +occasion, I hope. + +Lady Ogilvie eyed me up and down carefully, much as I should overlook a +bullock I had a mind to buy. + +"When Davie left me at Macclesfield I told him I'd be guid, and I will be +guid, but I wish he hadn't asked me," she said. "Never mind! At Derby, +when we meet again, my promise will be lapsed, and I shall flirt with you, +sir, most furiously." + +"Really, my lady," I replied, "my knowledge of the art of flirtation is +merely rudimentary, but I always understood that it required two." + +"Naturally," she retorted, "that's its great charm." + +"I see my mistake now," said I, as if thoughtfully. Margaret sat with her +needle poised for a stitch, and waited. + +"You're learning already, you see! What is it?" said Lady Ogilvie. + +"One and a bit would suffice when your ladyship was the one," I said +boldly. + +Margaret laughed and resumed the swift play of her needle. + +"Indeed so, and I've struck sparks out of turnips in my time," she +replied, with much complaisance. "There's a glisk of intelligence about ye +now that was sair to seek when I came into the room. Men are like +diamonds, you must know, Margaret darling, all the better for being cut +and rubbed. I'll teach ye things, sir, at and after Derby, that is. Till +then I'm to be verra guid." + +The bringing in of the tea interrupted us. Over the cups, though Margaret +stuck to her work, there was gay talk about the main business of the day +--the supper and ball to come. + +"The men will simply rave over you, dear," she said to Margaret. "There's +only six of us, seven with you added, you see, for no town ladies wait on +His Royal Highness nowadays, and I'm danced off my feet. Maclachlan will +want you every time, and you'll be wise to have him as often as possible, +for he dances like a fairy. Davie's none so bad, but Maclachlan is just +grand. And the incomparable one," grimacing prettily at me, "will foot it +trippingly by the look of him." + +"I dance like a three-legged bear," said I, grim enough at having my +defects brought home to me. + +"Is it that you're telling me?" she replied. "Legs like yours and no +music in them! Well, well, I'll take you in hand, that's flat. At Derby, +of course." + +"Now, Oliver, pray attend to the simpler matters that I deal with," said +Margaret, cutting off the last needle of silk. "I've done the best I can +for you. Come and appraise my work!" + +She held the coat up by the collar, and I stepped forward and examined it. + +"Marvellous!" said I. "It's as good as new." + +Her ladyship screeched with laughter. "Oh, you courtier!" she said. "I +never saw anything better done at the Tuileries. Look a foot higher, you +rogue!" + +Still even there the job was neatly and thoroughly done, and I thanked +Margaret for it heartily. With my coat on, I brightened up, and indeed I +had need to, for most of their talk was in and about a world of which I +knew nothing. Thanks to Margaret's hints and half-lights, I did well +enough. + +There came a gentle rap at the door and then, without further ceremony, +the Colonel bowed in a visitor. In the twilight at the door there was no +seeing who the new-comer was, but as he stepped forward the full light +revealed him. It was Prince Charles. + +"Stir not, ladies, on your allegiance!" he said gaily. I rose, bowed him +into my chair, and stood behind him. + +"Oddsfish, as my great uncle used to say, I've come to save your life, +Master Wheatman!" + +"You need not trouble, sir," said I, "to save what is freely yours to +throw away." + +"Very well said, sir," he answered, "and I shall not forget it." + +"Good lad, Oliver!" said the Colonel, dipping for his snuff-box. + +"Still, I must prove my point!" said Charles, smiling merrily. "My Court +consists of precisely seven ladies and an unlimited number of gentlemen, +the latter, for the most part, fiery chiefs who slash off men's heads as +if they were tops of thistles. Yet here are you, sir, keeping two of them +all to yourself. And such a two! Lady Ogilvie, whose charms are without +blemish--" + +"Nay, sir," said I. + +"May I pull his ears, Your Highness?" asked her ladyship tartly. + +"You may," said Charles, "unless he proves his point. A Prince must be +just, you know!" + +"That's fair," said Margaret. + +"Of course," retorted Lady Ogilvie. "He'll be right if he says I've an +eye like an ox and a mouth like a frog." + +"Save your ears, Master Wheatman!" said Charles, grinning at me. "What's +the blemish?" + +"Davie!" said I. + +The Prince rocked with laughter, and her ladyship enjoyed it quite as +fully. + +"It's the smartest hit I've heard since I left Paris," said the Prince. + +"Sir," said I, "be good enough to explain. Who is Davie?" + +"Her ladyship's husband," he replied. + +"Damme!" I ejaculated. "I thought he was only an ordinary Scotchman." +Whereat everybody laughed. + +"A most delightful interlude in a heavy day's work," said the Prince. "I +am unfeignedly vexed, ladies, at having to rob you of so agreeable a +cavalier, but I need Master Wheatman myself." + + * * * * * + +Half an hour later the Colonel stood with me at the town's end to give me +my final instructions. I was on Sultan, with urgent letters in my pocket +and important work on hand. + +We took a pinch of snuff together very solemnly. Then he snapped his box, +rubbed Sultan's velvet nose, shook my hand, said good-bye gruffly, and +strode back townward. I cantered on into the open road and the night. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +MY NEW HAT + + +Here was what I had dreamed of. Here was the dearest wish of my heart +gratified. I was twenty-three, and I had three-and-twenty's darling +equipment--a magnificent horse, a pair of unerring pistols, a fine rapier, +a pocket full of guineas, the memory of a woman's grace and beauty, and a +tough job in hand. The only material thing I really wanted was a new hat, +for yester morning's milk and subsequent bashings and bruisings had ruined +my old one. I had not bothered about it as long as it had bobbed alongside +the grey woollen hood of Margaret's domino, but, cheek by jowl with her +new hat, it had become an offence, and must be remedied. + +The black shadow flitted in and out of my mind. I was clean and clear of +all blood-guiltiness. I had struck for Margaret as he would have struck +for Kate. Fate had been too strong for us, but whatever penance life +should lay upon me should be paid to the uttermost farthing. I had this +comfort that, could Jack ride up to me now, there would be no change in +him. There would be for me the old hearty hand-grip and the boyish, +affectionate smile, just as when he had run in to me on the town-hall +steps. + +I had been commissioned by the Prince to do three things: first, to +deliver a dispatch to my Lord George Murray, wherever I should find him, +which would probably be at Ashbourne, twelve miles ahead along a good +road; second, to carry a letter to Sir James Blount at his house called +Ellerton Grange, somewhere near Uttoxeter; third, to make a wide circuit +west and south of Derby, picking up all the information I could as to the +feeling of the populace and the disposition of the enemy's forces, and to +report on this to the Prince in person at Derby at six o'clock the +following night. On this third commission the Prince and Colonel Waynflete +had laid great stress. An independent and trustworthy report was, it +appeared, of the utmost importance. + +Finally, as a dependent commission arising out of the first of the duties +imposed on me by the Prince, I bore a letter to my Lord Ogilvie from her +ladyship. She had summoned me willy-nilly to her room privily. + +"Tell Davie yonder that I'm very well and very, very guid," she said, as +she handed me the letter. + +"With infinite pleasure, my lady," I replied. + +"It will be true, ye ken," she asserted, as if there was a corner for +dubiety in her own mind regarding the matter. + +"Solemnly and obviously true, my lady," I agreed. + +"Oh, thou incomparable Oliver, I wish you were a lass," she said, lifting +her merry, girlish face level with mine, and putting a hand on each of my +shoulders. + +"Why, my lady?" I said, straightening at her touch. + +"Then you could give Davie this as well!" which said, she pecked lightly +at me with her sweet lips and kissed me. + +It had flustered me greatly, but she only laughed ringingly and +delightsomely as I backed out of the room. And when, door-knob in hand, I +made my last bow, she had wagged her finger at me for emphasis and said, +"Dinna forget to tell Davie I'm very guid." + +Good she was, as beaten gold, and she kept her spirits up to this high +pitch to the very end. You can read in Mr. Volunteer Ray's history of the +whole affair of the 'Forty-five' how, after Culloden, she was taken +prisoner while dressing for the ball which was to crown the expected +victory. + +I smiled a young man's smile as I thought of it. Experience was writing +some items on the credit side of my new account with life. I had met a +winsome lady of title and she had kissed me. Margaret, behind my back and +to a third party, had called me an "incomparable" something. What, I knew +not,--"servant" probably, but I cared not what. + +Mile after mile passed without incident of any kind until, at a second's +notice, I rode into a ring of muskets which closed round me out of vacancy +as if by magic. It was the outermost picket of the army at Ashbourne. I +gave the parole, "Henry and Newcastle," and demanded a guide to my Lord +George Murray's quarters. There came a Gaelic grunt out of the gloom; men +and muskets disappeared, with the exception of a single clansman, who +seized Sultan's bridle and led me into the town. + +The General was quartered at the "Swan with Two Necks," a very +respectable hostelry, where my first care was to have a cloth thrown over +Sultan, and to order for him a bucket of warm small beer with three or +four handfuls of oatmeal stirred into it. While this was adoing, and I was +awaiting a summons to his lordship's presence, I took a nip of brandy in +the public room of the inn, and over it amused myself by reading a crude +fly-sheet nailed on the wall, offering a reward of fifty guineas to anyone +giving information leading to the arrest of one Samuel Nixon, commonly +called 'Swift Nicks,' a notorious highwayman, six feet high, of very +genteel appearance, well-spoken, but a cruel, bloody ruffian with it all. +The Highlander interrupted my reading by beckoning me to follow him. +Upstairs we went, and he ushered me into a room where were two gentlemen +seated on opposite sides of a table on which were a small map and two +large glasses containing a yellowish liquid. + +The younger of them was of much the same general appearance as +Maclachlan, though by the look of him a simpler and sweeter man. The +other, a middle-aged, domineering man with a powerful face, looked angrily +at me as I handed him my dispatch. + +He read it impatiently, threw it down beside the map, and said, "They're +coming on to-night, Davie." Then, curtly to me, "Your name, sir?" + +"Wheatman of the Hanyards." + +"Hanyards? Humph! Are you an Irishman?" + +"No, my lord. Not even a Scotchman!" + +He glared at me, but his companion laughed, and said, "That's one under +your short ribs, Geordie!" + +"Damn the Irish!" cried Murray. "They're the ruination of the whole +business, Davie, and ye know it." + +"Of course they are," he replied, "but that's no reason for telling it to +an English loon who thinks less of a Scotchman than he does of a pickelt +herring." + +"That may be, my lord," said I to him, "but I think so well of one +Scottish lady that I'm proud to be her humble courier." And I handed him +his letter. + +"Man! man!" he said ecstatically, as he ripped it open, "ye're welcome as +sunshine in December. It's from Ishbel. God bless her pretty face!" + +He read the letter eagerly and then thrust it into his bosom. + +"I am, further," I went on, "entrusted with a message from her ladyship." + +"God bless her! Out with it, man, out with it!" + +"I was to inform you that she was very, very good," said I, soberly as a +judge passing sentence. + +"What do you think of that, Geordie Murray? Very, very guid! Eh, man, +isn't she a monkey? God bless her!" + +"I'll send the whole lot of 'em packing off back to Edinburgh," said +Murray. "Women are a nuisance on a campaign. Your Ishbel, be hanged to +her, wants a carriage all her own and another for her fineries." + +"Ye ken a lot about soldiering, Geordie," retorted Ogilvie, "no man more, +but ye ken less about soldiers than a lad of ten. At Gladsmuir I said to +MacIntosh, 'Let's get the damn thing over, Sandy, and be back to breakfast +wi' the leddies!' And we did." + +"You did so," acknowledged Murray. "Now, Davie, take our courier out and +feed him. I thank you, sir! You have ridden speedily. Your pace is faster +than your tongue." + +"My lord," said I, "although I am doing his Royal Highness such poor +service as lies in me, I am not yet duly acting under his commission and +authority." + +"What of it?" he asked. + +"Hence I am not an officer under your command, my lord!" + +"Excellent logic! And the therefore, my beef-eating friend, is....?" + +"That I would as lief knock your head off as look at you!" + +"When you are an officer," cried he, "by gad, sir, I'll teach ye the +manners of an officer. Till then, my birkie," rising and holding out his +hand, "guid luck to ye!" + +We shook hands heartily and so parted. + +"He's a grand man is Geordie Murray," said Ogilvie, as he led me to +another room across the landing. "Just a wee bit birsy, maybe, but these +damned Irish have got his kail through the reek. They're o'ermuch on his +spirits of late." + +All his other talk was of his lady, though he looked well enough after +me, and I made a good meal of the better half of a cold chicken, a cottage +loaf, and a tankard of poor ale. Ashbourne is noted, say the wise in such +matters, for the best malt and the poorest ale in England. + +I am overmuch English, as is often the case with us who live in the very +heart of England. The famous Mr. Johnson is a shire-fellow of mine, and +very proud I am of it, and reckon it among the greatest events of my life +that he has bullyragged me soundly for differing from him, and being +right, about a line of Virgil he had misquoted in my hearing. Like Mr. +Johnson, I love men and loathe dancing-masters, and these Scotsmen were +men indeed, my Lord Ogilvie, as I came to know later, one of the choicest. +He was a spare-built man, in years thirty or thereabouts, with a face all +lines and angles, and dotted with pock-marks. For a lord, his purse was +very bare of guineas, and nature had made up for it by giving him a belly +full of pride. For him, the Highland line had been the boundary of the +known world, so that his mind was a chequer-work of curious ignorance and +knowledge. + +From the first I liked him for his joy in his dainty lady. She was the +daughter of a cadet of a distant branch of the famous Bobbing John's +family, and had spent nearly all her life in France till, on a chance +visit to Scotland, she had been snapped up by Ogilvie. They were a +strangely matched pair, she from the gay _salons_ of Paris, he from +the misty mountains of the north; but mutual love had assorted them to +admiration, for the heart of each was sound as a bell. + +Between bites I answered questions as to how she had looked, what she'd +said, done, and so forth. + +"Was she wearing her brown riding-coat with the pretty wee shoulder +capes?" he asked. + +"No," said I, becoming more interested. + +"Or her creamy dress with the gold flowers all over it?" + +"No," said I again, smiling at my discoveries. + +"She's keeping 'em for London," he explained. "Gosh, man! She will look +divine in 'em." + +"She won't," said I, clipping away at the sweet bits still hanging on the +carcass of my chicken. + +"It'll take your logic all its time to keep six inches o' cauld steel out +of your brisket," he said very fiercely. + +"Never had better chicken in my life," said I, watching him out of one +eye--quite enough for any Scotsman. + +"Damn the chicken!" he roared. "Why won't she?" + +"Because she's given 'em away," I explained in my airiest tones. + +"The blue blazes of hell!" gasped his lordship. "Given 'em away, and they +cost me twenty pounds English! Given 'em away!" he whined, utterly lost +for words, "given 'em away! The callack's clean dawpit. Twenty pounds good +English money!" + +"Nothing like enough!" said I. "You'll be sorry it wasn't two hundred." + +Two hundred pounds English was, however, something too stupendous for his +mind to grasp, and the gibe had no effect on him. While I finished my ale +he chuntered away in his own Gaelic. + +"I'll mak' it up in London," he said at length, "but it'll be the deil's +own job." + +"It will indeed," I agreed, and drained my tankard dry. + +A look at my watch told me it was time to set about my second commission. +Sultan was brought from the stable, fit as a fiddle and eager to be going. +I examined my pistols, ran the tuck up and down in its scabbard, leaped on +Sultan, and asked for the Uttoxeter road. + +My Lord Ogilvie parted from me on the fairest terms, bringing me with his +own hands a great stirrup-cup, or "dock-an-torus," as he called it. + +"Man," said he, "I'm right glad to be acquent wi' ye. I was thinking I'd +gang all the way to London without coming across a man worth fighting, +much less friending, but I was in the wrang of it. Here's to ye!" + +"My lord," said I, "you match your sweet lady. Both of you have been +wondrous kind to a hard-hit man." + +We gripped hands, saluted, and parted. + +It was all but pitch-dark, and the moon was not due to rise for more than +an hour, but the sky was clear and the stars were out in masses for +company and guidance. Ellerton Grange was near Uttoxeter, and Uttoxeter +was a sizeable townlet just inside my own county, and some fifteen miles +from Ashbourne. The road was the usual cross-road, all of it bad and most +of it vile. I left the going to Sultan, who did the best he could, like +the gallant and experienced creature he was. There was nothing for me to +do except to keep a good look out and the north star just behind my right +hand. + +My mind was busy going over all the memories of the last three days. I +tried hard, but in vain, to skip the black part, the thought of which made +me flinch as if the branding-iron was white-hot against my cheek. Mentally +I saw double--Jack's red blood with one eye and Margaret's amber hair with +the other. As I rode I fought memory with memory, mingling gall and honey, +now mumbling broken prayers and now singing snatches of country +love-songs, and so got on as best I could. In the journey of life a man +pays for what he calls for. Life had given me what I wanted, and the price +thereof had been death. + +Not only was the night dark but the countryside was empty. I rode past +dim outlines of houses and through vague, dreamlike villages without +seeing a soul or hearing a sound. Once I saw a light ahead by the +roadside, but out it went as the rattle of Sultan's hoofs told of my +coming. It was no wonder, for these poor folk were living between two +armies and wanted neither, friend nor foe. For them it was only a choice +between the upper and the nether millstone. At last I came to a wayside +ale-house where lights were showing. I rode up, dismounted, ran the reins +over the catch of the shutter, and went in. + +In the low, untidy room I found a man and a woman, bent over a miserable +fire, with their backs to a table whereon were set out mug and platter and +other things useful for a meal. They rose to greet me, and their faces +told me that they were expecting some one and supposed that I was he. When +they saw their mistake, the woman stepped smartly in front of the man and +said, "Lord, sir, how you frighted us! What can I get for your worship?" + +"A mug of good mulled ale," said I. "Give me good mulled ale and a little +information, and you shall have a crown for your pains." + +I spoke pleasantly, having no need, as a mere passer-by, to do otherwise, +but if I had been obliged to have dealings with them, I should have begun +by distrusting them outright. The man was of the common sort of ale-house +keeper, ugly, beery, and stupid, and old enough to be the father of his +wife, as I call her on account of the wedding ring on her finger. She was, +for the place and post, a complete surprise, being a jaunty, townish, +garish woman, dressed in decayed finery. He would have slit my throat for +a groat, she for a grudge. They looked that sort. + +The woman went into another room, beyond the little bar where the +drinkables were stored, to get the spices for the mulling, and the man +shuffled grumpily after her. Hanging on the wall behind the bar was a +fly-sheet, the very same I had read in the "Swan with Two Necks" at +Ashbourne. + +"Swift Nicks" was a much-wanted gentleman, and evidently a tobie-man with +a wide range of activities. Out of mere vacancy of mind I walked near to +read the fly-sheet again, and, by a curious chance, among the drone of +words from the other room, the only one my quick ear could pick out +distinctly was "Nicks." + +This made me wary, and when the woman came out and busied herself at the +fire, and called me to see what a prime mull she was brewing, I stood over +her, to all intent watching the process but ready for anything. And not +without need, for her dirty husband crept softly out after her, thinking +to catch me unawares. I flashed at him like a jack at a minnow, wrenched a +wretched old blunderbuss out of his hands, and with the butt of it knocked +him sprawling back into the other room. + +The prime muller merely cackled with false laughter and went on with her +mulling. I fetched him in by the scruff of the neck, stood him up against +the bar, and said, "I think you're in for the soundest thrashing you've +ever had in your life." + +"Sarves yer right, sawney," said the woman. "Plase let him off, sir. He +thought yow was Swift Nicks." + +"Yow bitch!" he growled. "Yow set me on!" + +"Yow'm a ligger!" she retorted. "I towd yow the gen'leman was nowt like +Swift Nicks." + +"How do you know that?" I asked. + +"By the print," was the quick reply. "It tells yow all about him." + +I fetched the fly-sheet down, held it out to her, and said sharply, "Read +it to me!" + +I thought this would clean beat her, but she said, simply enough, "I +canna rade it mysen, but I've heard it read lots o' times." + +"Have you heard it read?" I asked the man. + +"Lots o' times," he echoed surlily, and I saw the woman's fingers twitch +as if she longed to furrow his ugly face with her nails. + +"Then why didn't you know?" + +I spoke to him but turned sharp on the woman, and saw hell in her face. +She was almost too quick for me, and answered fawningly, "The thought o' +the money made a fool on 'im, sir. Plase let him off. I've mulled th' ale +prime for her honour." + +This was true and I enjoyed it greatly. I sent the man out to rub Sultan +down while she prepared for him under my eyes a warm drench of ale and +meal. + +"Be y'r honour going far?" she asked. + +"That depends how far it is to Ellerton Grange. Do you know it?" + +"Oh aye, y'r honour. Sir James Blount lives there. It's three miles out'n +Tutcheter on the Burton road." + +"Is it a straight road to Uttoxeter?" + +"Half a mile on yow'll come to a fork. Tek the road on the right and just +ride after y'r nose. Fetch the drench, Bob!" + +She carried it off well, but I felt there was a deep strain of roguery in +her. Still, willing to part on a lighter note, I gave her the crown, +saying, "You deserve a better trade." + +"It's none so bad," she said. + +"And a better husband." + +"Oddones! D'ye think...." + +She stopped abruptly, plainly caught out for the first time. + +A minute later I was off again. At the fork Sultan made for the left, and +I had to pull him sharply to the right. The road got steadily worse, but +Orion was clear in view ahead of me, dropping down behind Uttoxeter, and I +pushed on. If a man is to turn back because of a bad road, he'll not +travel far in the Shires. Soon, however, there was no road at all, and I +was plump in open country. Sultan stopped and sniffed, and then turned his +head round as if to tell me, what I already felt was the truth, that I had +been an ass for not leaving it to him. + +"So ho! Sultan!" said I, patting his warm neck. "I deserve all you say, +my beauty! I've put you in for a nice job." + +The right road must lie somewhere to my left. I turned him that way and +he walked on suspicious and sniffing. Fortunately the moon had risen, and +the Jezebel's lie would only cost me a trifling delay. She would have lied +with a purpose, and I puzzled myself in trying to reason it out. In a few +minutes we came to the side of a spinney with a low wall of rough stones +cutting it off from the field. I was intently looking ahead, when on a +sudden Sultan swerved so powerfully that I rocked in the saddle. I +wouldn't have touched him with the spur, short of utter necessity, for a +fistful of guineas, and I soothed him, and then turned to look for what +had upset him. + +To be candid I swerved myself. Most of us in these days are pleased to +laugh at superstitions, provided we are in good company round a roaring +fire. I was here alone in a lonely field, at nine of the clock on a winter +night, and there, flittering and gliding through the spinney was a +something in white. Virgil believed in ghosts, and so did Joe Braggs, and +I, by oft reading the one and listening to the other, had preserved an +open mind. Apparently Sultan had his doubts, for he shivered and whinnied. + +I pulled his head round away from the ghost, drew out a pistol, and +watched the unchancy thing's movements. It was evidently meant for me, for +it made a slight turn and came straight towards me. Then my man's logic, +as Margaret twittingly called it, came to my aid. Gloomy as it was, I saw +the outlines of some steps by which the low wall could be crossed, and +ghosts, both my authorities being in agreement on this, were independent +of such purely human contrivances. So, waiting till the ghost was climbing +down on my side, I said sternly, "Stop, or I fire!" Whereon it heaved a +great sob and tumbled full length to the ground. + +I jumped down, slipped the reins over Sultan's head, and pulled him up to +the spot. The ghost was a well-grown girl, dressed in nothing but a white +night-gown, for I could see her bare feet beyond the hem of it. + +"Don't be afraid, dear," said I soothingly, for she was dumb and half +dead with fright. "What can I do for you? Say it, and it's done. Come now, +be brave!" + +She sat up, leaning on her right hand, and turned her pallid, quivering +face up to mine. + +"Robbers, sir!" she gasped. "They're murdering father and mother. For +God's sake, sir, go and stop them." + +"Of course," I replied cheerfully, slipping off my jacket. "Come on, my +brave lass!" + +I helped the lass to her feet, put her into my jacket, jumped into the +saddle, and lifted her astride behind me. + +"Clip me tight! Which way?" + +"Round the spinney first, sir!" + +Off we went, and this time I touched Sultan with the spur and he flew +along. Round the spinney; slantways across a field; up and over a gate, +the girl clinging to me like a leech; down a lane; up and over another +gate; and then the girl's shaking right arm was thrust over my shoulder. + +"There's th' ouse! 0', God, if we anna in time!" + +"How many are there?" + +"Two, sir." + +I pulled Sultan up at the farmyard gate, helped her down, and jumped +after her. Hitching the horse, we started across the yard. + +Luckily the low-down moon was on the far side of the house, and we could +run softly up in the pitch dark. As I write I feel that brave girl's hard +grip of my hand as we raced on. At a half-open door we halted; she loosed +hold of me, and I tiptoed on alone. From within I heard the crash of one +pot and then another on the brick floor of the kitchen, as the villain, +searching for hidden money, smashed them to the ground. Bitten to the +vitals by his want of success, he yelled, "I'll burn the sow's eye out! +That'll open her mouth." + +With wrath flaming in my heart I stepped into the doorway leading to the +kitchen. My eyes lit on a poor woman bound hard and fast in a chair, and a +masked beast, his big white teeth showing through lips thrust wide apart +in a grin of hellish rage, approaching a red-hot poker towards her face. I +shot him, and he tumbled into a squirming heap. The other villain raced +for dear life through the open front door. My second bullet got him on the +very threshold, for he yelped and sprang into the air like a stricken +buck, but he held on. I e'en let him go, not daring to leave the unkilled +scoundrel on the floor, for he had a regular battery of pistols in his +belt. The girl was already untying her mother, and her father, bound and +gagged in his chair in the ingle-nook, could bide a while. So I plucked +the pistols out, there were six of them, and rattled them down on the +table. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig, and his purpling face and +heaving throat showed that he was choking. As I destined him for the +gallows, I picked him up, flung him face down on the table, and thumped +him violently in the back, whereupon he coughed up a tooth. My bullet had +stripped out all his grinning front teeth clean and clear, just as our +Kate's dainty thumb strips the row of peas out of a peascod. Once the +tooth was up he was not greatly hurt, and, holding one of his own pistols +to his head, I bade him unstrap the farmer. As soon as the latter was +free, I ordered him to strap the robber to a kitchen chair, which he did +very thoroughly. The instant this job was done, he leaped to fondle and +hearten his wife. She kissed him back and, without a word, feebly pointed +to me, whereupon he turned and thanked me. + +"Thank your brave daughter," said I, and then he jumped at her and hugged +her in his big arms, blubbing out, "My bonny, bonny Nance!" + +At my wish he lit a lantern, and we went out and stabled Sultan. We went +back through the kitchen to make a search of the front of the house. A +pretty sight awaited me within doors. The good wife was sipping at a cup +of parsnip wine, and the girl was again wearing nothing but her +nightdress. With crimson face and downcast eyes, she stood there holding +my coat out. + +"Hallo, ghostie!" said I, smiling at her. "You want to frighten me again, +do you?" + +Too confused to say a word, she lackeyed me into my coat and then ran +upstairs. To cut short her mother's tearful thanks, I led the way to the +door, and we started our examination. + +Some two yards from the door-sill the feeble rays of the lantern were +reflected from something on the ground. To my great satisfaction it was +fair booty to me, nothing less than my closest need, a rare good hat made +of the finest beaver. The band was buckled with gold, and there was a +taking and surely very fashionable cock to the brim. I sent my old one +spinning into the blackness and clapped my new treasure on my head. Now I +could walk side by side with Margaret and not be ashamed, at any rate not +of my hat. + +"The rogue jerked it off when I winged him," said I. + +"Gom! He did jump, that's sartin," said the farmer, whose name, I ought +to say, I had learned was Job Lousely. + +It was quite a step down to the road, and we made no further discovery +till we got to the gate. Here it was his turn to be lucky, for there was +an excellent nag hitched to a rail. It was on Job's ground and he gave it +a home in his stable. + +"It'll mak up for the crockery," he said, with great delight. + +Back in the kitchen we found Nance fully dressed and busy laying a meal +on the table. She was so taken aback when I declared I was not hungry and +couldn't stay if I had been, that, to save her distress, I had a bite and +a sup of ale, while Job fetched Sultan round to the door. She was a sweet, +comely maiden, and it did my heart good to see her put a horn of ale to +the bleeding lips of the robber. He drank ravenously, like a dog after a +hard run. He was where he deserved to be, with his feet in the short, +straight path to the gallows, and I pitied him not. Nance did, and it's +good for the world that women are made that way. + +"How far is it to Ellerton Grange?" I asked Job, who came in to tell me +Sultan was ready. + +"A matter of six miles, sir. Three from here to Tutcheter, and three more +on to the Grange." + +"How funny, father," interposed Nance. "This is the second time tonight a +gentleman has asked the road to Ellerton Grange." + +It would hardly have struck Job as funny if it had been the +twenty-second, but Nance was quick and shrewd. + +"Ho! Ho!" said I. "Tell me about it, little woman!" + +"I was wishing my Jim good night at the gate, just before father came +home, when a man riding by pulled up and asked the road to Ellerton +Grange." + +"Did you make him out, Nance?" I asked. + +"Not much of him, sir, but the moon shone on his face when he took his +hat off to wipe his forehead, and it looked for all the world like an +addled duck-egg." + +"Well put, Nance," said I, laughing. "First time I saw that face I +thought it was like a bladder of lard." + +"You know him, sir?" + +"I think I do, Nance, and I must be after him." + +Out of the robber's string of pistols I selected a pair for myself. They +were lawful prize, and equal in quality to those Master Freake had given +me, so that the rascal had probably stolen them. I saw that all the others +were loaded, and advised Job to watch him all night and to lift him, chair +and all, into a cart the next morning and drive him off to the nearest +Justice. + +Job and his wife renewed their thanks when I was in the saddle. Nance +insisted on coming to open the gate, and on the way there she gave me full +and careful directions as to the way to Tutcheter and thence to the Grange. + +She swung the gate open and let me through. Then she came to my sword +side and held up her face to be kissed. + +"Good-bye, ghostie!" + +"Good-bye, sir! God bless you!" + +Kissing and blessing were reward enough for my service, and I rode on +lighter at heart for them. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE DOUBLE SIX + + +The time had not been wasted. I had had a stirring experience and got a +hint of dangers and uncertainties ahead. Moreover, and on this I plumed +myself most, I had acquired a handsome hat. It was a trifle roomy, but a +wisp of paper tucked within the inside rim would remedy that defect. The +moon was getting higher and brighter, and I pulled my new treasure off +again and again to admire it. It had belonged to a rascal with an +excellent taste in hats. I was very content with it, and looked forward +eagerly to catching the glint in Margaret's eyes when she saw it. After +all it behoved me to look well in her presence, and I regretted that the +rogue had not shed his coat and breeches as well. No doubt they were +equally modish and becoming, and would have set me up finely, though all +the tailors in London town couldn't make me a match for Maclachlan. A man +has to be born to fine clothes, like a bird to fine feathers, before he +looks well in them. The thought made me rueful. I jammed my hat on +fiercely, and slapped Sultan into a longer stride. + +The man ahead of me was, out of question, the Government spy, Weir. It +was now a full day and more since I had crammed my Virgil into his maw, +and he had had time to get into these parts. Thirty years before there had +been much feeling for the honest party hereabouts, and among the gentry +along the border of the shires there would be some in whose hearts the old +flame still flickered. Indeed, my own errand proved so much, and a +noser-out like Weir would be well employed in rooting up fragments of +gossip over the bottle and memories of beery confidences at market +ordinaries--sunken straws which showed the back-washes of opinion beneath +the placid surface flow of our rural life. I dug my fingers into my thigh +and imagined I was wringing the rascal's greasy neck, and the feeling did +me good. + +I began to ride past scattered houses and then between rows of cottages. +Sultan was tiring a little, but, being an experienced horse, pricked up at +the sight and cantered down the dead main street of the town. The shadows +of the houses on my left ended in an irregular line on the cobbled +causeway on my right. Near the town end I came on an exception to the +black-and-white stillness of the houses--an inn on my right ablaze with +light and full of noise. A merry liquorish company it held, some +quarrelling, some rowdily disputatious, and a few stentors trying to drown +the rest by roaring a tipsy catch. I pulled Sultan towards the verge of +the shadows to see if I could make anything out, and he, supposing, no +doubt, that I was guiding him towards bait and stable, made a half-turn +towards the portico that ran on pillars along the face of the inn. I +checked him at once, but, in that trice of time, a man leaped from behind +a pillar, laid one hand on the pommel of my saddle, and raised the other +in warning. He was a little man, and in his eagerness he stood on tiptoe +and whispered, "Ride on, Master Wheatman! One second may cost you dear!" + +Even as he spoke, some movement within startled him, and he leaped back +into the shadow before I could question him. + +I urged Sultan onward, and once out of footfall of the inn, pricked him +into a gallop. Out of the town he fled, past the end of the Stafford road, +along which two hours of Sultan's best would bring me to the Hanyards and +mother and Kate, and I kept him at it for a full two miles before I gave +him a breather and settled down to think out what it meant. + +I did not know the man from Adam, but he had me and my name quite pat. He +was obviously a friend, for his bearing and his warning alike bespoke his +goodwill towards me. He must be waiting there for some purpose, and he +must have seen me somewhere and learned enough about me to know from what +source danger to me was certain to come. In this case it was plain that +the danger was within the inn. The carousers might be, nay, almost +certainly were, soldiers, though there had been none in the town when Job +Lousely had left it less than two hours ago. The news of my escapade might +well have leaked into Stafford by now; I was very well known in the town, +and the stranger might be some Stafford chap benighted at Uttoxeter after +his business at the market. As I say, I did not know the man, but he might +very well know me; he was, perhaps, some old schoolfellow, grown out of +recollection by moonlight, and still willing to serve an old butty. This +seemed the likeliest solution of the difficulty, and it made me very sad. +The news about Jack would be whispered round by now, and I could never +walk the old streets again without seeing nods and shudders everywhere. +_See him? That's him! Killed his best friend! Wheatman of the Hanyards! +Never held his head up since! And hadn't ought to!_ The chatter of the +townsfolk crept into my ears between the hoof-beats, and made me sick and +dizzy. + +It would not have happened but for the bladder-faced scoundrel ahead of +me, now creeping around like a loathsome insect to sting a man of ancient +name and fame, and I was eager to be at him again. Sultan, without more +urging, had made the furlongs fly in gallant style, and it was time to be +looking out for my landmarks. Nance had made me letter-perfect in them. +Here, on the right, was the woodward's cottage where the road began to run +downhill into a bottom dark with ancient elms: there, on my left, in an +open space among the boles, the moon showed up a worn, grey column which +marked the spot where, in the wild days of the Roses, a Parker Putwell had +slain a Blount in unfair fight for a light of love not worth the blood of +a rabbit. Nance had very earnestly told me the old, sad tale, to impress +the spot on my mind, for the long lane up to Ellerton Grange began in the +shadows just beyond the monument, and wound away up the slope to the +right. The road carried us up where the moon-light fell on meadows that +were almost lawns, and across them to a maze of buildings. A minute later, +I leaped off Sultan and hammered away at the studded oaken door of +Ellerton Grange. + +No man came to my summons, and I sent a second volley of rat-tats echoing +through the house before I heard a shuffling of feet within and a drawing +of big bolts. The door crept open for a foot or so, and an old man's head, +with a lantern trembling over it, appeared in the gap. + +"Who's there?" he quavered. + +"Wheatman of the Hanyards," I answered; "but my name is nothing to the +purpose and my business is. I must see Sir James Blount." + +"He's abed," said he, "hours ago!" + +"Then fetch him out!" + +The old man pushed his lantern close to my face and straightened himself +to take a fair look at me. He had sunken cheeks and toothless gums, and +hairless eyes with raw, red lids, and out of all question was some +ancient, rusty serving-man, tottery and slow, but quick-minded enough, and +of a dog-like faithfulness to the hand that fed him. + +"Young and masterly," he muttered, "and o'er young to be so o'er +masterly. But I mind the day when I would 'a' raddled his bones with my +quarterstaff." + +"I won't naysay it, grandad," I answered, seeking to humour him. "In your +time you've been a two-inch taller lad than I am. Not so big o' the chest, +though, grandad." + +"Who're you grandadding? I was big enough o' the chest when I could neck +meat and drink enough to fill me out. Now!" + +As he spoke he gripped a handful of the waistcoat that hung loosely about +him, and added, "Once it was a fair fit, my master. It's cold and late for +my old bones to be creaking about, but Trusty's the dog for the tail-end +of the hunt, and a Blount's a Blount and mun be served." + +"Fetch him out!" I repeated. "I've ridden hard and far to serve him." + +The ancient took another look at me and said to himself in a loud +whisper, after the manner of old and favoured serving-men, "A farmering +body all but his hat, and none o' your ride-by-nights." + +"Fetch him out!" said I again, not for want of fresh words to say to the +candid old dodderer but to keep him to the point. + +"Oh-aye," said he, and shuffled off. + +He left me fuming, for his last mutteration, as he shook his lantern to +stir the flame up a bit, was, "Knows a true man when he sees one. More +used to a carving-knife than a sword, I'll be bound. What did he say? +Wheatman o' sommat! Reg'lar farmering name!" + +I kicked the door wide open and watched the lantern bobbing along the +hall. The light made pale shimmerings on complete suits of mail hanging so +life-like on the high, bare, stone walls, that it seemed for all the world +as if the knights had been crucified there and, little by little, age +after age, had dropped to dust, leaving their warrior panoplies behind +--empty shells on the shore of time from which the life had dripped and +rotted. The old man toiled up the grand staircase at the far end of the +hall and turned to the right along a gallery. The friendly light +disappeared, leaving me darkling and alone. Sultan sniffed his way to the +door, pushed in his head and neck, and rubbed his nose against my breast +in all friendliness. I flung my arms round his neck and caressed him, and +in those anxious minutes in the doorway of Ellerton Grange he was comrade +and sweetheart to me, and comforted my spirit greatly. + +Footsteps and a voice within made me turn my head. A man came at a run +down the stairs and along the hall. After him the old serving-man +hastened, lantern in hand, as best he could. + +"Sir James Blount?" said I. + +"The same," said he curtly and confusedly. + +"I bring you a letter from a very exalted person, Sir James," I explained. + +He took it from me much as he would have taken a bowl of poison. "The +light! The light! You slow old fool! The light!" he said, jerking the +words out as if his soul was in distress, and the ancient, barely half-way +down the hall, quickened his poor pace up to his master. He, tearing the +lantern out of the feeble hands, and rattling it down on a table, ripped +open the letter and devoured its contents. + +The light of the lantern revealed the face of a man still young, but at +least a half-score years my elder. He had a thin-lipped, sensitive mouth, +a great arched nose, and quick, eager eyes. His mind was running like a +mill-race, and his fine face twitched and wreathed and wrinkled under the +stress of the flow. Another thing plain enough was that the old man had +lied when he said his master was abed, for he was fully and carefully +dressed and his wig had not in it a single displaced or unravelled curl. +This was no half-awakened dreamer, but a man with the issues of his life +at stake. + +He crushed the letter in his hand and paced up and down the hall, +muttering to himself. I turned and rubbed Sultan's nose to keep him quiet +and happy. The old servant took charge of the lantern again, and followed +his master up and down with his eyes. + +"A year ago, yes! A year ago, yes!" I heard Sir James say. He quickened +his steps and the words came in jerks, mere nouns with verbs too big with +meaning for him to utter them. "A word! A dream! A dead faith! Yes, +father! The devil! Sweetheart!" + +There is a great line in the Aeneid which I had tried in vain a hundred +times to translate. Three days agone I would have tilted at it once more +with all the untutored zeal of a verbalist. I should never need to try +again. There are some lines in the Master that life alone can translate. +_Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt._ + +After a turn or two in silence, Sir James broke off his pacing and came +to me. + +"Sir," he said, "you will know enough to excuse my inattention to a +guest. I must make it up if I can. Give me the lantern and wait for us +here, Inskip. Come with me, sir, and stable your horse. Gad so, sir," +holding up the lantern, "you ride the noblest animal I have ever seen. +Woa, ho, my beauty! All my men are abed, so we must do it ourselves, but, +by Heaven, it will be a pleasure, Master--what may I call you, sir?" + +"Just the plain name of my fathers--Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards." + +"A good strong name, sir, though my fathers liked it not." + +"And you, Sir James?" + +"Frankly, it is a name which to me has ceased to be a symbol. A good +fellow can call himself 'Oliver' without setting my teeth on edge. I had a +grand foxhound once, and called him 'Noll,' just because he was grand. My +dear old father consulted a London doctor as to the state of my mind. It +made him anxious, you see! The great man said, gruffly enough, that I was +as sane as a jackdaw. Thereupon my dear dad, one of the best men that ever +lived, had the dog shot!" + +He laughed, reminiscently rather than merrily, and was to my mind bent on +getting a grip on himself again. We made Sultan comfortable for the night, +and then Sir James courteously said it was high time to be attending to +me. He made no further indirect reference to the situation, until, as he +was leading me along the hall, he stopped opposite a great dim picture, +hanging between two sets of mail, and held the lantern high over his head +to give me a view of it. With a strange mixture of resentment and pathos, +he said, "A man's ancestors are sometimes a damned nuisance, sir!" + +"They are indeed!" I replied. "There's one of mine shaking his fist at me +over the battlements of the New Jerusalem." + +He laughed heartily, and, with Inskip trailing patiently behind us, led +me upstairs, and through the gallery into a long corridor, lit by lanterns +fixed in sconces on the walls. We stopped opposite a door, and he was +about to lead me in when another door farther along the corridor opened +and a lady came out. She was all in white with dark hair hanging loose +about her shoulders, and there was a something in her arms. + +Down went the lantern with a bang, and Sir James flew like a hunted buck +along the corridor. He whipped his arms around the lady and kissed her +passionately, and then flung on his knees and held out his arms. She put +the something in white into them and there was a little puling cry. + +"Married a year come Christmas," whispered old Inskip, "and the babby's +five weeks old to-morrow." + +A serving-woman bustled out of another room, and the lady and child were +affectionately driven off to bed under her escort. Sir James came slowly +back. + +"My wife and son, Mr. Wheatman," he said. "You must meet them to-morrow. +The young rascal cries out whenever I desecrate him with my touch. It +would have served him right to have christened him 'Oliver.'" + +I laughed heartily, for he was fighting himself again by gibing at me. He +sent off the old man to scour the pantry for a supper for me, and then +pushed open the door and led me into the room. + +For size and dignity, it was a room to take away the breath of a poor +yeoman. It seemed to me a Sabbath day's journey to the great blazing +hearth, where two men were sitting; the high white ceiling was moulded +into a wondrous design, with great carved pendants hanging from it like +icicles from the eaves of the Hanyards. Many bookcases ran half-way up the +walls round the greater part of the room, filled with stores of books such +as my heart had never dreamed of, great leather-bound folios by platoons, +and quartos by regiments. If I could get permission I would steal an hour +or two from sleep to eye them over, and as we walked towards the hearth I +got behind my host in my slowness and had to step up smartly to get level +with him to make my bow of introduction. I gasped with the shock as I +stepped into the arms of Master John Freake. + +"My dear lad," he cried, "what luck! What luck! How are you? How are they?" + +He made me sit down beside him, for here as elsewhere he was easily the +most important man present, though his bearing was ever quiet and modest. +He spoke of me to Sir James in warm and kindly phrases, and it soon became +manifest that his good word was a passport into my host's confidence and +regard. The three gentlemen filled their glasses and toasted me with grave +courtesy, and I easily slid out of the uneasy mood into which Inskip's +candour and my unaccustomed surroundings had driven me. + +The third man present was a Welsh baronet, Sir Griffith Williams, a +far-away cousin and close friend of Sir Watkin Wynne, whose name I +remembered to have heard on the Colonel's lips at Leek. Sir Griffith was a +brisk, apple-cheeked man of forty or thereabouts, very fluent of speech in +somewhat uncertain English, with fewer ideas in his head than there are +pips in a codlin, but what there were of them singularly clear and +precise. He reminded me of Joe Braggs, who could only whistle three tunes, +but whistled them like a lark. + +Inskip brought me a rare dish of venison-pie and various other good +things, and laid out the table for me. I left Master Freake's side to eat +my supper and listen to their talk. + +They made various false starts, followed by dead silences. It was clean +useless for Sir James to talk about his baby. Sir Griffith had had a long +family and so had exhausted the topic years ago, whilst Master Freake, a +bachelor, knew nothing about it. There had been a great flood in the +Welshman's valley in the autumn and he harangued upon it in style, and not +without gleams of native poetry, but Sir James had never seen a flood and +Master Freake had never been to Wales, so the flood soon dried up. + +There was a silence for some minutes, busy minutes for me with an apple +tart that was sublime with some cream to it, and I was settling down to +the sweet content of the well-fed when Sir James broke out. + +"Mr. Wheatman has brought me an invitation, hardly to be distinguished +from a command, to meet His Royal Highness at the Poles' place tomorrow." + +The eager Welshman bounced on to his feet, raised his glass and said, "To +the Prince, God bless him." Sir James had to follow his example, though he +was in no mood for it, and it would have looked ill had I not joined in, +and moreover the wine was excellent. + +"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Master Freake. "I am not clear +which Royal Highness is referred to, and besides I have no politics." + +"God bless him," bubbled the Welshman. "I shall join him when he has +crossed the Trent." + +Again there was silence for a space. + +"So the question is put, and I must give my answer," said Sir James, +breaking the stillness. "I must put my hand to the plough or draw back. I +must keep my word or break it. Can I be loyal to my father's creed and +also to my child's interests? I've got to be both if I can. If I can't be +both, which is to have the go-by? Fate has put me in a cleft stick, Master +Wheatman. On his death-bed my father handed on to me his place in the old +faith. He was a devoted adherent of the exiled House, the close friend and +associate of Honest Shippen, and even more intimately concerned than he in +the underground network of intrigue and preparation which was constantly +being woven, ruined, and re-woven up to his death ten years ago. He left +me poor and encumbered with debt, for he had been prodigal in his +sacrifices for the cause. It is a wonder that he died in his bed rather +than on the block, but he was as wary as he was zealous. For nine years I +lived here the life of a hermit, alone with my debts and my books. Then I +met a young girl"--his voice broke badly--"who became to me the +all-in-all of my life. By good fortune I also met Master Freake, who took +my affairs in hand for me and has helped me wisely and generously." + +"For ten per cent, Oliver," interrupted Master Freake. + +"Nonsense! Wisely and generously, I repeat," said Sir James warmly. + +"For ten per cent on good security, I repeat," answered Master Freake +gravely. + +"Damn your ten per cent!" + +"Looks like it, and the security into the bargain!" said Master Freake +very quickly. + +"Swounds! that's just it!" said Sir James. He rose and paced backwards +and forwards between me and the hearth. "A year ago, sir,"--he addressed +me in particular--"I should have shouted with joy at the summons to take +the place among the adherents of the cause which my father would have held +had he lived, and which it was his heart's wish on his death-bed that I +should take for him. The cause and the creed are nothing to me as such, +for I place no value on either. Your talk about the right divine of old +Mr. Melancholy, mumming and mimicking away there at Rome, makes me smile. +He's an old fool, that's the long and short of it. But a Blount's a Blount +after all. I owe something to my ancestors. My word to my father ought not +to be an empty breath. Yet here I am, with all the interests of life +pulling one way--wait till you've a boy five weeks old by a wife you'd be +cut in little pieces for, and you'll know, sir,--and a dead father and a +dead creed pulling the other. I knew what was coming, and I've talked +about it and thought about it till my head's like a bee-hive. Now, sir, +give me your advice!" + +"I have joined the standard of your Prince," I said. + +"Damme, sir, you mock me. That's not advice. That's torture." + +"I have turned my back on the creed of my life and on every sound +instinct in me," I continued. + +He stopped his walk and looked intently at me. + +"I have ancestors whose memory I cherish, and I have torn up their work +as if it were a scrap of paper covered with a child's meaningless +scribble." + +Sir James stepped up to the table, his fine face alive with emotion. + +"For what?" he asked. + +I rose and looked straight into his eyes. + +"For a woman," I whispered, very low but very proudly. + +Our hands met across the table in a hard grip. + +"You have done well, sir!" he said. "I asked you to give me advice. You +have set me an example." + +He sat down again, and looked hopefully at the fire and then moodily at +Master Freake. + +"There is this unfortunate difference between Mr. Wheatman's case and +mine. I have, and he has not, given my plain word to a father." + +"I admit that is a striking difference," said Master Freake. "I am no +Jesuit, however, and cannot decide cases of conscience. I deal with +business problems only, which are all cut and dry, legal and formal. When +I make a promise in the way of business I always keep it precisely and +punctually, for the penalty of failure to do so is a business man's death +--bankruptcy." + +"There's such a thing as moral bankruptcy," said Sir James gloomily. + +"Very likely," replied Master Freake. + +"This is all nothing whatefer but words, words, words," said the +Welshman. "And words, my goot sirs, are indeed no goot whatefer. Sir +James's head is wrapped up in a mist of words, words, words, and indeed he +cannot see anything whatefer. I am not a man of words, and what you call +'em--broblems." + +"Very good," said I. + +"Indeed it is goot," said he. "To hell with your words and your broblems. +They are of no use whatefer, whatefer. Our good friend, Sir James, is up +to his neck in broblems like a man in a bog, and he cannot move. Now I +have not your broblems. To hell with your broblems. My Cousin Wynne is +full of 'em, and he's still gaping up at the cloud on Snowdon, while I'm +here, ready. I say plain: if the Prince cross south of the Trent I will +join him." + +"Why the Trent?" said I. + +"It is my mark. It is my way of knowing what I will do. It is all so +simple. Indeed I am a simple man, not a broblem in my brain, none +whatefer, I tell you plain. It is as this--so. If the Prince cross the +Trent, say I to myself, well and goot. He do his share. It is time for me +to do mine. It is better indeed, I tell you plain, to have it settled by a +simple thing like the Trent than to have it all muddled up by your +broblems. I can sing you off my ancestors by dozens, right back to the +standard-bearer of the great Llewellyn, but they're all dead, and indeed +I'm not going to poke about among their bones to find out what to do. I +look at your pretty river, and I wait." + +Sir James had looked at him during this harangue with unconcealed +impatience. + +"I sent a letter to Chartley of Chartley Towers," he said, "one of us, +and a strong one by all accounts. At any rate, my father always reckoned +him as such. So I asked him guardedly what he thought, and his reply was, +'The chestnut is on the hob. I am waiting to see whether it jumps into the +fire or into the fender.' I cannot decide by appealing to rivers or nuts. +There's much more in it than that." + +Fate snatched the problem out of his hands. Without a tap, without a +word, the door of the room was flung open, and a dozen troopers filed +swiftly and silently in, and covered us with their carbines. An officer, +sword in hand, pushed through a gap in their line and stepped half a dozen +paces towards us. He saluted us ceremoniously with his sword and said, "In +the King's name!" Behind the line a man in citizen clothes hovered +uncertainly, and dim as the light was I made him out only too plainly. It +was the Government spy, Weir. My goose was cooked. I had played for life's +highest stake, and thrown amb's ace. It was good-bye to Margaret. + +The Welshman stuck to his chair, stolid as his native hills. Master +Freake, whose back was to the new-comers, made a swift half turn, and then +he, too, settled down again as indifferently as if the interruption had +only been old Inskip with the bedward candles. Blount leaped to his feet, +livid with rage, and strode up to the officer. + +"My Lord Tiverton, what does this intrusion mean?" he demanded. + +"It means," was the composed reply, "that if any one of you makes the +slightest attempt to resist, he will be shot out of hand. Close up, lads, +and cover your men!" + +The order was obeyed briskly and exactly. The three on the left of the +line attended to me, and I sat there, toying with a wine-glass for +appearance sake, though the three brown barrels levelled straight and +steady at my head made my heart rattle like a stone in a can. These were +none of Brocton's untrained grey-coats, but precise, disciplined veterans +in blue tunics and mitre-shaped hats, white breeches and high boots, +belted, buttoned, and bepouched. It was almost a compliment to be shot by +such tall fellows. + +Seeing we were all harmless, the officer dropped his military preciseness +as if it were an ill-fitting garment. He was the daintiest, handsomest +wisp of a man I had ever set eyes on, and looked for all the world like an +exquisite figure in Dresden china come to life. He could not have had much +soldiering--the air and aroma of the London _salon_ still hung +closely around him--and he was so very self-possessed that he was +play-acting half his time, doing everything with a grace and relish that +were highly diverting. It took all my pride in my new hat out of me to see +this desirable little picture of a man. + +"I assure you, my dear Sir James," he said, "that it's a damned annoying +thing to me to have to act so unhandsomely. Stap me! I shouldn't like it +myself, but law's law and duty's duty, and so on, you know the old tale, +and I'm obleeged to do it." + +He opened his snuff-box and offered it to Sir James, who brusquely waved +it aside, saying, "Your explanation, if you please, my lord!" + +"Damme, don't be peevish! Smoke the Venus in the lid? Isn't she a +sparkler? Wish I'd lived in the times when ladies lay about on seashores +like it! I hate these damned crinolines. Saw Somerset in 'em in the +Pantiles. Could have pushed her over and trundled her like a barrel." + +"My lord," reiterated Blount, "I await your explanation." + +"Boot's on the other leg," he chirped. "A'nt I pouched you all cleverly, +stap me, seeing the ink on my commission's hardly dry? Didn't think it was +in me!" + +"I will take the authority of your commission as sufficient, my lord, the +times being what they are. But will you be good enough to tell me why you +come?" + +"Gadso! Certainly! There's a dirty rascal in pewter buttons behind there +--come here, sir, and let Sir James see your ugly face!--who says you're a +disloyal person, a traitor, and so forth. I don't believe him. I wouldn't +crack a flea on his unsupported testimony, but he's in the know of things, +and showed me a commission from Mr. Secretary, calling on His Majesty's +liege subjects, etc., you know the run of it, and I was bound to look into +it. Charges are charges, stap me if they a'nt. Don't come too near, pig's +eyes! Out with your tale!" + +His lordship plainly disliked the whole business, and it was a very +awkward thing for Sir James that I was here, a circumstantial piece of +evidence against him. I looked straight into Weir's eyes as he came +forward, ungainly and uncertainly, smiling half his dirty teeth bare, and +mopping his yellowy face with a dirty handkerchief. To my astonishment he +made not a single sign of recognition. I was his trump card, and he left +me unplayed. + +"Sir James is a known Jacobite, my lord!" he quavered. + +"Quite right, Mr. Weir, and if you propose to keep me out of bed these +cold nights calling on known Jacobites, stap my vitals, Mr. Weir, if I +don't have you flung into a pond with a brick tied round your sweaty neck +like an unwanted pup. Anything else?" + +"This is a Jacobite plot, my lord. There's scheming and plotting against +our gracious lord the King agoing on here, my lord." + +"I'll e'en have a closer look at 'em. Plots are damned interesting +things, stap me if they a'nt, and I'm glad to see one. Here's a likely +young fellow," striding up and examining me. "His is a plot in a meat-pie, +it seems. There was one in a meal-tub once, I remember, so the meat-pie +does look mighty suspicious, Mr. Weir. We're getting on. And here's a +plotter toasting his toes. Not an intelligent member of the cabal. Stap +me, if he a'nt asleep! I must circumambulate and have a quiz at him." + +He walked gaily in his play-acting way round Master Freake's chair on to +the hearth and then turned and took a peep at him. As soon as he had done +so he gave a great shout, and then, recovering himself, burst into a roar +of laughter. He clapped his hands on his knees and fairly swayed with +merriment. Master Freake looked at him with a sedate half-smile, and said, +"How d'ye do, my lord?" + +"Very well, thankee!" cried his lordship gaily, too gaily. "Damme! It's +the funniest thing that's happened since Noah came out of the Ark. Come +here, spy! Mean to tell me this is a Jacobite?" + +As the spy crept near, Master Freake stood up, wheeled round on him +smartly, and said, "How d'ye do, Turnditch?" + +"Stap me!" cried his lordship. "His name's Weir!" + +"He will know me better if I call him Turnditch," said Master Freake icily. + +He spoke unmistakable truth. I could see the shadow of the gallows fall +across the man's face. What stiffening there was in him oozed out, and he +stood there wriggling in an agony of apprehension, like a worm in a +chicken's beak. Master Freake knew him to the bottom of his muddy soul. My +Lord Tiverton was a man of another mould, but he too was in the hands of +his master. Plain John Freake, citizen of London, had taken a hand in this +game of fate, and had thrown double six. + +This noble room had seen the agonizings and rejoicings of a dozen +generations of the sons of men, but nothing to surpass this scene in +living interest. They come back to me now--the line of blue-and-white +troopers, still with levelled carbines; the stolid Welshman, as +indifferent as Snowdon; the dapper nobleman, still polished and lightsome, +no longer play-acting but rather vaguely anxious; the high-minded troubled +Jacobite, fear for his wife and babe gnawing at his heart; the spy, Weir +or Turnditch, with the noose he had made for another drawn round his own +neck; Master John Freake, the quiet, Quakerlike merchant, whose power was +rooted deep in those far haunts of the world's trade, so that we were here +shadowed and protected by the uttermost branches thereof. Last of all I +remember myself, with my heart thrumming good-morrow to Margaret. + +"Come now, Houndsditch, or Turndish, or whatever it is," said his +lordship. "Precisely what have you to say?" + +The poor devil had nothing to say. He was aflame to be off and out of +Master Freake's eyesight. He choked up something about mistakes, and zeal, +and forgiveness. + +"That's enough! Out you go, the whole damn lot of you!" cried my lord. +These not being familiar military words of command, the men stuck there +like skittles. "Ground arms, or whatever it is!" he continued. "About +turn! Quick march!" + +Their sergeant took charge of them and they filed out. Sir James followed +them and became their host, routing out servants to wait on them. + +As soon as the door was closed on Sir James, his lordship hastened to +Master Freake's side, and entered into low and earnest conversation with +him. I walked across to the folios, hoping to find amongst them an +_editio princeps_ of Virgil, but was recalled by a loud "Oliver" from +Master Freake. + +"Oliver," he said, when I reached his chair, "I should like you to know +the most noble the Marquess of Tiverton!" + +I bowed, and his lordship bowed in reply, and said light and pleasant +things about our meeting. Then, vowing he was monstrous hungry, he tackled +the venison pasty, summoning me to sit opposite him. + +"Gadso! I am sharp-set," he said, and indeed he ate with the zeal of a +plough-lad. He pushed me over his snuff-box, which nearly made me sneeze +before I took the snuff. + +"It really is a masterpiece," he said, in a pause between pasty and pie. +"I shall never hear the last of it at the 'Cocoa Tree' and White's. Stap +me, I shan't want to! It's too good. The tale will keep my memory green +when that old mummy, Newcastle, is dust at last." + +"What tale?" said I. + +"D'ye know why, a month ago, I badgered Newcastle into getting me a +company in the Blues?" + +"Not the faintest idea!" + +He leaned across the table and, from under cover of me, nodded towards +Master Freake, now talking with the Welsh-man. "To get out of his way!" he +whispered. + +I looked incredulous, whereupon his lordship tapped his pocket +significantly. + +"He's a damned good fellow. He gave me another six months without a +murmur. Wish I'd known! There'd have been no campaigning for me. I prefer +the Mall!" + +So he said now, yet he was as steady as a wall and as bold as a lion at +Culloden. He came of a great stock, and greatness was natural to him. The +play-acting and gaming was only the fringe that Society had tacked on to +him. It lessoned me finely to see him when Sir James came back into the +room. Tiverton knew the position by instinct. + +"Sir James," he said, "I crave a word with you." + +"At your service, my lord." + +"I will be frank," continued his lordship. "I ask no questions. I make no +inferences. I simply point out that the spy fell to pieces because he +found Mr. Freake here." + +"I observed so much, my lord!" + +"I don't know why," said the Marquess dubiously. + +"I could hang him at the next assizes," interrupted Master Freake. + +"I see. He doesn't want to be hanged, of course. No one does. It's a +perfectly natural feeling. So he crumpled up at the prospect." + +"Yes, my lord," said Sir James. + +"I allowed him to crumple up, and I took full advantage of the fact. You +saw so much?" + +"I did." + +"Now, Sir James, you, as a Blount, that is, as a man bearing an honoured +name, are under the strictest obligation to me to see that I can say, if +my conduct is challenged, that I saw nothing here because there was +nothing to see. I have put myself absolutely in your power, Sir James. +Whoever else joins the Prince, you must not, or you take my head along +with you." + + +It was well and truly said, and there was no posing about it. Sir James +Blount's problem was settled. He taught me something too, for all he did +was to put out his hand. + +"There's an end of Tundish!" said Tiverton, grasping it firmly. "And it's +the best end too, for the Highland army hasn't a snowball's chance in +hell." + +He turned at once to banter me on my indifference to art, seeing that I +had sniffed at a miniature by one of the most famous artists at the French +Court. I let him rattle on, for my eye was on Sir James, who was rolling +something in his hands. A moment later the Prince's letter went up in a +tongue of flame and burnt along with it the Jacobitism of the Blounts. + +A knock at the door interrupted his lordship's valuation of art and +artists of the French school, and his sergeant entered to say that his men +were in the saddle. + +"Campaigning be damned!" said his captain wearily. + +"Beg pardon, my lord," added the sergeant, "but Mr. What's-his-name has +cut off." + +"Good riddance. He's gone back to his crony at the 'Black Swan.'" + +"Yes, my lord. T'other's a sergeant in my Lord Brocton's dragoons." + +"Ah, I saw they were hob-and-nob together. A fellow with a ditch in his +face you could lay a finger in!" + +Fortunately for me, the Marquess was busy with a last glass of wine. Here +was ill news with a vengeance. I had got out of the smoke into the smother. + +"My lord," said Master Freake, "there is a man of mine, one Dot Gibson, +at the 'Black Swan,' and I shall be greatly beholden to you if you will +let your sergeant carry him a note of instructions from me." + +"Stap me! I'll take it myself," cried his lordship heartily. + +Master Freake went to a table to write the note. I knew now who it was +that had given me the warning. My lord pocketed the note and we all crept +quietly down to the main door to see him off. The guards made a gallant +show in the brilliant moonlight, and Master Freake, taking my arm, dragged +me out to watch them canter across the stretch of meadow, and drop out of +sight down the hill. + +"Sleep in peace, Oliver," he said. "Dot Gibson will give us early news of +the movements of the enemy." + +Then we strolled back, talking of the Colonel and Margaret. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY + + +It was eight by the clock next morning before I set about my third +commission. To begin with, the bed pulled, and small wonder, since I had +not slept in a bed since leaving home. Then I took my fill of the books, +finding among them no less a prize than the _editio princeps_ of +Virgil, printed at Rome in 1469, which it was hard to let go. Next there +was Baby Blount to be waited upon, and his mother, a pretty, appealing +lady, with the glory of motherhood about her like a fairy garment. Part of +the ceremonial was the putting of Master Blount into my arms, which was +done very gingerly, with abundant cautions and precautions against my +crushing or dropping him. He had a skin like white satin and a silvery +down on his charming little head. Altogether I thought him a most +desirable possession for a man to have, and wished he was mine, +particularly when, to his father's outspoken chagrin, instead of puling he +stared steadily at me with big blue eyes and smiled. + +"Precious ikkle ducksy-wucksy," said his mother. + +"Ugly ikkle monkey-wonkey," cried his father. "Why the deuce can't he +smile at me?" + +"Try him!" said I, handing him over to Sir James, glad to be free of the +responsibility. + +Baby Blount looked at his father and smiled again, and it was a +revelation to me of the deepest and finest feelings of a man's heart to +see how ravished Sir James was with this first smile of his baby boy's. + +"It's you that's changed, James, not our little darling," said his wife. +"He'll always smile at a face as happy as yours is this morning." + +I lingered through these delightful moments over an old book and a new +baby with an easy conscience, for Master Freake had brought me news which +made my third task much easier. I had not told him what I had in hand to +do, thinking it unfair to force the knowledge on him, but he must have +made a good guess at it, for he came to tell me that the latest news from +Stone was that the Duke was moving south again at top speed, with the +intention of getting between the Prince and London if he could. He told me +further that Charles had joined Murray at Ashbourne in the small hours, +and that their reunited forces had started out for Derby. In all these +important matters he was, as is obvious enough now, fully and exactly +informed, and I expressed my admiration of his thoroughness. + +"Business, my dear Oliver, nothing but business. Some great man of old +time has said 'Knowledge is power.' I'm expanding that a little to fit +these modern days. That's all." + +"How does the maxim run now, sir?" + +"Knowledge is money and money is power," said he, with a dry smile. + +Then, as to matters small in themselves but of more immediate concern to +me, he told me that his man, Dot Gibson, had reported that the spy, Weir, +had at an early hour ridden off towards Stafford, while the sergeant of +dragoons was still lurking at the "Black Swan." There had been long +consultations between them as if they were acting in concert. + +This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had +seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake +had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would +in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his +evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be +only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a +useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let +slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of +their conduct. + +I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my +ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till +we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway. + +"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand. + +"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night." + +"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean +to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad." + +"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir." + +"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no +fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and +keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced +blackguards at his service and will compass hell itself to fetch you down. +What about money?" + +"I've plenty and to spare," I answered, "thanks to your generous loan." + +"No loan, lad, but my first contribution to the expenses of--what shall +we say for safety? Your tour. How will that do?" + +"Nay, sir--" + +"Yea. Oliver, and no more said. My favourite rate is ten per cent. You've +let me off with a paltry two." + +"I do not like joking in money matters, sir." + +"John Freake joking in money matters?" said he, smiling. "Tell it not +when you get to town, Oliver, or you'll be the ruin of a hard-won +reputation. I sent you sixty guineas odd." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Which is, to be precise, slightly less than two per cent of what you +saved me when you snatched me out of the dirty grip of Brocton's rascals. +I had a good thick slice of his lordship's patrimony in my pocket. Off you +go, lad! Sultan is impatient at my trifling. So ho! You beauty! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, sir!" I cried heartily, swinging my new hat in a grand bow. + + * * * * * + +At three o'clock in the afternoon, having ridden hard and far without +bite or sup, I came out in a little hamlet huddled about the great London +road where it ran along the hem of a forest, and drew rein before the +"Seven Stars." I was to be in presence with my report at six o'clock, and, +as Derby was only fifteen miles off and the road one of the best, there +was ample time for Sultan and me to take the rest and refreshment we both +stood in need of. + +I was, too, in need of quiet and leisure to get my report straightened +out in my mind ready for delivery. The largeness and looseness of my +commission left everything to my discretion, with the vexatious result +that I had discovered nothing. I had, indeed, carried out my orders. I had +been so far west of Derby that I had seen the famous spires of Lichfield +cutting into the sky like three lance-heads, and had learned on abundant +and trustworthy evidence that the Duke's forces there were leaving for the +south, under orders to march with all speed to their original camp at +Merriden Heath. This squared exactly with Master Freake's news, and was +all the stock of positive information I had got together. + +Of the kind of news the Prince would best like to hear there was none. Of +preparations to join him, none. Of open well-wishers to his cause, none. +The time when the Stuart banner could rally a host around it had gone +beyond recall. There was no violent feeling the other way. People simply +did not care. The old watchwords were powerless. The old quarrel had been +revived in a world that had forgotten it, and would not be reminded of it. +It was Charles and his Highlanders against George and his regiments, and +as the latter were sure to win, nobody bothered. It is the strange but +exact truth that the only sign I discovered of the great event in +progress, was to come across a group of four respectable men of the middle +station in life bargaining with an innkeeper for the hire of a chaise, in +which they meant to drive to watch the Highlanders march by. They were +very keen to bate him a shilling, and as indifferent as four oysters to +the issues at stake. + +Riding into the inn-yard, I shouted to the host to get me his best +dinner, and, while it was preparing, I overlooked the grooming and baiting +of Sultan. I left him comfortable and content, and strolled indoors to +look after my own needs. + +Though on the London road, and only fifteen miles from the scene of +action, the inn was quiet. I learned from the host that a courier had +galloped through an hour before, spurring southwards, and cried out from +the saddle that the bare-legs were only five miles from Derby when he +left. Earlier in the day a cart had driven through loaded up with the +gowns of the town dignitaries, "going to Leicester to be done up," +explained the host, delighted with his own shrewdness. + +A hunger-bitten traveller with a good dinner in front of him commonly +pays no attention for the time being to anything else. I found two men in +the guest-room, and, after a civil greeting, which made one of them open +his eyes and mouth very uncivilly, I sat down to eat, very content with +the fare set before me. + +As my hunger steadily abated before a steady attack on a cold roast +sirloin of most commendable quality, I began to take more interest in the +two men. In fact, more interest in them was forced on me by the beginnings +of a pretty quarrel between them, and by the time I had got to the cheese, +they, utterly regardless of my presence, were at it hammer and tongs. The +row was about a horse-deal lately passed between them, and there are few +things men can quarrel about more easily or more vigorously. The yokel who +had gaped at me, had been cheated by his companion, and was accordingly +resentful. + +Two men more at odds in outward appearance could not easily have been +found. The gaper was plain country, a big, bulky man, with a paunch that, +as he sat, sagged nearly to his knees, a triple chin, and a nose with a +knobly end, in shape and colour like an overripe strawberry. His companion +was a little fellow, lean and sharp-cut, with a head like a ferret's. We +country-siders know your Londoner. Many an hour I had sat under the clump +of elms at the lane-end and watched the travellers. Hence, doubtless, my +taste in fashionable head-gear, like this of mine, lately belonging to +Swift Nicks, now disposed carefully on the table at my side. I would have +wagered it against Joe Braggs' frowsy old milking-cap that the little man +was a Londoner. + +Little as he was, his cold, calculating anger overbore his antagonist, +who was no great hand at stating his case, good as it was. + +"The landlord knows me and knows the gelding," said the little man. "You +know less about horses than a Mile End tapster. Fetch him in, and let him +decide. I suppose you rode him!" + +"What a God's name, d'ye think I bought him for, Mr. Wicks? To look at?" + +"By the look of you I should think you bought him as a present for a +baby. Sixteen stone six if you're an ounce, and riding a two-year-old! +Damme, no wonder he throws out curbs! Fetch the landlord, I tell ye!" + +Out burst the fat man in a great fury, and in a minute or two came back +with the landlord and an ostler. Then the wrangle became hotter and more +amusing than ever. + +Finally, the little man, losing all patience, drew a pistol, whereon the +big man ran backwards, shrieking "Murder!" Not heeding where he was going, +he tumbled up against my table, and jammed it hard against my midriff. + +I attempted to rise but was too late. The fat man seized my wrists, the +landlord and the ostler ran round, and pinned me to the chair, and the +little man held the barrel of the pistol to my forehead. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Swift Nicks!" said he. + +I dare say my liver was turning the colour of chalk, but, though I'm too +easily frightened, I'm always too proud to show it, which has unjustly got +me the character of being a brave man. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Too-swift Wicks!" I retorted. + +"What d'ye mean?" he asked, plainly disconcerted. + +"I mean," said I, "that the zeal of your office hath eaten you up." + +"What the hell does he mean?" he asked, appealing to the company. + +"Damn my bones if I know," answered the host. "I've 'eerd parson say +sommat like it in church a Sundays. He's one of these 'ere silly +scholards." + +"They do say as how Swift Nicks is a scholard," put in the ostler wisely. + +"There's no time for chattering," said I. "Take me at once before a +justice. That's the law, and you know it. I warn you that any delay will +be dangerous. My cocksure friend here is already in for actions for +assault, battery, slander, false imprisonment, and the Lord knows what. My +gad, sir, I'll give you a roasting at the assizes. Take me off at once to +the nearest magistrate. I'll have the law on you before another hour's +out." + +My energy flustered the Londoner, who had sense enough to know the peril +of his being wrong, but the fat man, dull as an ox, cheered him on. + +"He's Swift Nicks right enough, Master Wicks," he said. "Pocket full of +pistols, four on 'em; a chap of the right size, a matter of six feet odd; +hereabouts, where he is known to be; speaks like a gentleman; and, damme, +I saw Swift Nicks myself with my own eyes not two yards off, and that's +Swift Nicks' hat or I'm a Dutchman; I know'd it again the minute he walked +into the room." + +"Damn the hat!" cried I heartily enough, but feeling very crestfallen at +this telling piece of evidence against me. + +The little man snatched it up and looked carefully at the inside of it, a +thing I had never done, being wrapped up in its outside. + +"There y'are!" he cried triumphantly. "'S. N. His hat.' What more d'ye +want?" + +"I want the nearest magistrate," cried I. + +"Well, Mr. Wicks," said the fat man, "he can easily have what he wants. +It's only a matter o' two mile to the Squire's." + +"Squire'll welly go off 'is yed," remarked the host. "He's that sot on +seeing Swift Nicks swing." + +"Then he'll very likely go bail for Mr. Wicks," said I. + +"Will he?" said Mr. Wicks sourly. + +"If he don't," I retorted, "you'll spend the night in Leicester jail." + +"They do say as 'ow Swift Nicks is a rare plucked 'un," said the ostler. + +"Then they're liars," said I. + +I was handcuffed and put on Sultan, with my feet roped together under his +belly. Then we started off, and the whole village, which had dozed in +peace with the Highlanders only five hours off, turned out gaily and +joyously to see Swift Nicks. The landlord left his guests, and the ostler +his horses, to go with us, and at least a score of villagers, mostly +women, joined in and made a regular pomp of it. Once or twice we met a man +who cried, "What's up?" and at the response, "Swift Nicks," he added +himself to the procession and was regaled, as he trudged along, with an +account of the affray at the inn. My capture was exceedingly popular, and +they gloated to my face over the doom in store for me, wrangling like +rooks as to the likeliest spot for my gibbet. The majority fixed it at the +Copt Oak, where, as they reminded me with shrill curses, I had murdered +poor old Bet o' th' Brew'us for a shilling and sixpence. It was a relief +to hear the host shout to Master Wicks, "Yon's th' Squire's!" + +We trooped up to a fair stone house of ancient date with a turret at the +tip of each wing. My luck was clean out. The Squire was not yet back home +from hunting, for he went out with the hounds every day the scent would +lie. He had ridden far, or was belated, or his horse had foundered, and +there was no telling, said his ruddy old butler, when he would be back. So +the villagers were driven off like cattle, Sultan was stabled, and we five +were accommodated in the great hall, for the host and the ostler stayed on +the ground that so dangerous a villain as Swift Nicks wanted a strong +guard. They put me under the great chimney and sat round me, in a half +circle, each man with a loaded pistol in one hand and a jug of ale in the +other. The Squire's lady came in and stood afar off examining me, and I +saw that she was in deadly fear of me, handcuffed and guarded as I was. + +Over an hour crawled by, taking with it my last chance of getting into +Derby, with my task accomplished, by six o'clock. What would Margaret +think of me? Her obvious pride in the honour the Prince had conferred upon +me by selecting me as his personal helper, had been a great delight to me, +and now I had failed him and disquieted her. The thought made me rage, and +I gave my captors black looks worthy of any tobie-man on the King's +highway. + +At last relief came in the shape of the Squire's youngest son, a stout +lad of some twelve years old, who raced in, rod in hand, and made up to me +without a trace of fear. He was in trouble about his rod, having snapped +the top joint in unhandily dealing with a fine chub. After some wrangling, +I got my hands freed, and set about splicing the joint. + +"They do say," said I mockingly, "as how Swift Nicks is a good hand at +splicing fishing-rods." + +"I never 'eerd tell of that'n," said the stolid ostler. + +"Are you really Swift Nicks, sir?" asked the lad, looking steadily at me +with frank, innocent eyes. + +"No more than you are Jonathan Wild or Prester John, my son," I answered. + +"Then who are you?" he persisted. + +"I'm a poor splicer of fishing-rods. I get my living by riding about the +country on a fine horse, with one pair of pistols in my holsters and +another pair in my pocket, looking for nice little boys with broken +fishing-rods, and mending 'em--the rods, not the boys--so that father +never finds it out and the rod's better than ever it was. How big was the +chub?" + +"That big!" said he, holding his hands about two feet apart. + +"The great advantage, my son, of having your rod mended by me is that +ever afterwards you'll be able to tell a chub from a whale." + +"Sir," said he proudly, "a Chartley never lies." + +"Of course," said I, "it's hard to say exactly how big a fish is when +you've missed him. So your name's Chartley. Is this Chartley Towers?" + +"It is," said he, with a taking boyish pride ringing in his voice. "We +are the Chartleys of Chartley Towers. We go back to Edward the Third." + +Did ever man enjoy such fat luck as mine? I had been as hard beset as a +nut in the nutcrackers. To prove that I was not Swift Nicks I should have +to prove that I was Oliver Wheatman. The Bow Street runner would see to +that, for, as Swift Nicks, I was worth fifty guineas to him, a sum of +money for which he would have hanged half the parish without a twinge. +Cross or pile, I should lose the toss. Drive away the cart! Such had been +my thoughts, and now a lad's young pride had snatched me out of danger. I +grew quite merry over the splicing, and told young Chartley all about my +fight with the great jack. + +The job was near on finished when there was a rattle of hoofs without, +and, a minute later, the door was flung open and in swept a torrent of +yapping foxhounds, followed by a big, hearty, noisy man in jack-boots and +a brown scratch bob-wig. + +"Dinner! Dinner!" he shouted to his wife, who came in to meet him. "The +best run o' the year, lass! Thirty miles before he earthed, the dogs +running breast-high every yard of it, and the very devil of a dig-out! +There was only me and parson and young Bob Eld o' Seighford in at the +death. Dinner, dinner, my lass! I could eat the side of a house. Hallo, +damme! What art doing here, Jack Grattidge?" + +The question was put to the host, who was shuffling down the hall to meet +him. The Squire slashed the dogs silent with his half-hunter to catch the +reply. + +"Please, y'r honour," said the host, "we've copped Swift Nicks." + +"By G--! You a'nt!" + +"We 'an," declared the host. + +"Hurrah!" roared the Squire. "That's news! I owe you a guinea for it, +Jack." + +He clumped up to the hearth, crying out as he came, "Show me the black, +bloody scoundrel! I'd crawl to London on my hands and knees to watch him +turned off." + +Seeing me engaged in the innocent task of mending his lad's fishing-rod, +with the lad himself at my knees intent on the work, he took Mr. Wicks for +the highwayman, and cursed and swore at him hard enough to rive an +oak-tree. He was, indeed, so hot and heady that it was some minutes before +his mistake could be brought home to him. By the time he realized that the +man mending the rod was Swift Nicks, he had fired off all his powder, and +only stared at me with wide-open eyes. + +"I suppose," said I, very politely, "that, as you've been hunting, the +chestnut is still on the hob." + +"I'm damned!" says he, and flops down into his elbow-chair. + + * * * * * + +In the end we made a treaty, to Mr. Wicks' great disgust, who saw the +guineas slipping through his fingers. Nor was the Squire less aggrieved at +first, for clearly it was to him a matter of high concern to nail Swift +Nicks. + +"What's it matter to us here who's got a crown on his head in London?" he +said. "London-folk care nothing for us, and we care nothing for them. But +Swift Nicks does matter. We want him hung. No man about here with any +sense bothers about your politics except at election-times, when politics +means a belly full of beer and a fist full of guineas for every damned +tinker and tallow-chandler in Leicester. But you, or that bloody villain +Swift Nicks, if you a'nt him, keep us sweating-cold o' nights. To hell +with your politics! Hang me Swift Nicks!" + +The terms of our treaty were that I was to remain peaceably and make a +night of it, giving my word to make no attempt to escape or harm anyone. +In the meantime, and at my proper charges, a post was to be sent to fetch +Nance Lousely and her father to give evidence on my behalf. + +"DEAR GHOSTIE,"--I wrote to her,--"I am in great danger because a +red-nosed man vows I am Swift Nicks. I want you and your father to come +and prove he's an ass. If you don't I am to be hung on a gibbet at a place +called the Copt Oak, and I can't abide gibbets, for they are cold and +draughty. So come at once, my brave Nance!--Your friend, + +"O. W." + +A groom was fetched and I told him how to get to Job Lousely's. He was +well mounted from the Squire's stables and set off. However quickly he did +his business, it would be many hours before he could be back. So I settled +down to make a night of it. + +There was nothing original in the Squire's way of making a night of it. +The parson who had been in at the death and who, during the settlement of +my affair, had been busy in the stables, now joined us at dinner. He was +but lately come from Cambridge, at which seat of learning the chief books +appeared to be Bracken's _Farriery_ and Gibson on the _Diseases of +Horses_, with Hoyle's _Whist_ as lighter reading for leisured +hours. He was a hard rider, a hard swearer, and a hard drinker, and, after +being double japanned, as he called it, by a friendly bishop, had been +pitchforked by the Squire into a neighbouring parish of three hundred a +year in order that the Squire's dogs and hounds, and the game and poachers +on the estate, might have the benefit of his ministrations. He had, +however, sense enough to buy good sermons. "At any rate the women tell me +they're good," explained the Squire. "I can't say for myself, for Joe's a +reasonable cock, and always shuts up as soon as I wake up." + +The Bow Street runner, Mr. Wicks, and the red-nosed petty constable of +the hundred, who answered to the name of Pinkie Yates, were of the party. +I ate little and drank less, but the others emptied the bottles at a +great pace and were soon hot with drink. One brew, which the huntsmen +quaffed with much zest, I insisted, out of regard for my stomach, on +passing round untouched, though the men of law took their share like +heroes, and, I doubt not, thought they were for once hob-nobbing with the +gods. The manner of it was thus. The parson drew from his pocket a leg of +the fox they had killed that day, and, stinking, filthy, and bloody as it +was, squeezed and stirred it in a four-handled tyg of claret. In this evil +compound the Squire solemnly gave us the huntsman's toast: + + "_Horses sound. Dogs hearty, + Earth's stopped, and Foxes plenty_." + +The parson then hiccoughed a song for which he should have been put in +the stocks, after which Mr. Wicks, with three empty bottles and three +knives to stand for the gallows, gave us a vivid account of the +turning-off of the famous Captain Suck Ensor, who kicked and twitched for +ten minutes before his own claimed him. + +It was five o'clock next morning before my courier returned with Nance +Lousely and her father. I had gone to sleep in the Squire's elbow-chair +before the hall fire, with the zealous thief-takers in attendance, turn +and turn about, as sentries over me, fifty guineas being well worth +guarding. The butler watched at the door, wakefully anxious to earn the +crown I had promised him. The noise he made in unchaining and unbolting +the door awakened me, and it warmed my heart to see Nance standing timidly +just inside the hall, her hand in her father's, till she spied me, when +she broke away and ran up to me. + +"You knew I'd come, sir, didn't you?" she said, appealing to me more with +her pretty anxious face than by her words. + +"Of course, ghostie!" I replied promptly. + +"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in +my words or face, she would have broken down. + +"Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are +you. Job? Much obliged to you both." + +"We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse +afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor +that'n. Our Nance nearly bust. Gom, she did that'n." + +"Your Nance is a darling," said I, stroking her disordered hair. + +At my request backed by a promise to turn the crown into half a guinea, +the butler got them some breakfast. Fortunately the Squire and the parson +were due at a duck-shooting ten miles off by seven o'clock, and so were +stirring early. My matter was soon settled. The Squire sat magisterially +in his elbow-chair, and Nance and her father told their tale, precisely as +I had told it before them. It cleared me and made the thief-catchers look +mightily confused and sheepish, and very relieved they were when, as a +politic way of staving off awkward questions, I grandly accepted their +apologies. + +"I knew you weren't Swift Nicks," said the Squire, "when I saw you +mending my lad's fishing-rod. Damme, we'll get him though, before we've +done." + +He invited me to join him at breakfast, where we were alone for the first +time. + +"Is it into the fire or into the fender?" he asked meaningly. + +I was ready for him and, stopping with the carving knife half-way through +a fine ham I was slicing, said, as if amazed, "Is what into the fire or +into the fender?" + +"The chestnut," said he. + +"The chestnut!" I retorted. + +"Well, well! I don't blame you for your caution, sir. Sir James Blount +sounded me and I know you know my reply. Whether fire or fender will make +no difference to me, and I wouldn't miss to-day's duck-shoot to make it +either." + +"I hope there'll be plenty of birds, and strong on the wing," said I. + +This ended all the talk that passed between us on the great event that +had so strangely brought us together. He, the squire of half a dozen +villages, went duck-shooting while the destiny of England was being +settled just outside his own door. + +For the second time Nance walked a space by my side to wish me good-bye. + +"Nance, my sweet lass," said I, pulling Sultan up, "do you know that +dirty little ale-house near your home?" + +"Where the painted woman lives, sir?" + +"That very place! Now Swift Nicks is hiding there. Go back and tell the +Squire you can find Swift Nicks for him, and they'll fill your pinner with +guineas. You'll kiss me for a pinnerfull of guineas, won't you?" + +"No, sir," said she very decidedly. + +"Then kiss me, Nance, because, though we shall never meet again, we've +helped one another when we did meet." + +She put her foot on mine, and I lifted her up in my arms and kissed her +red young lips and tear-stained cheeks. + +"Good-bye, Nance!" + +"Good-bye, sir. God bless you!" + +At a bend in the road I turned to look at her again. She was standing +there, looking after me, and waved her bonnet in farewell. I took off my +hat and waved back, and then she was gone from sight. + +"She's a good girl is Nance," said I aloud, "and you, curse you, are the +cause of all my troubles"--this to my new hat. My foppery had cost me +dear. What would the Prince say to my failure? What would Margaret say? +There would once more be questionings in her eyes, and the shadow of doubt +on her face. + +"Curse you!" I said again to the hat, and then, with a swift, strong +sweep of my arm, sent it spinning into a brook. + +Sultan showed his points. He did ten miles in fifty minutes by my watch, +accurate timing and counting from one milestone to another. + +At last the broad Trent came in sight and I rattled over Swarkston +bridge, only to be pulled up on the other side by a strong post of +Highlanders. My luck still held, however, for Donald was amongst them, +and, on his explaining who I was, the chief in command let me pass. + +Donald trotted by my side for half a mile to give me all the news. The +Prince had lain all night at Derby in the Earl of Exeter's house. There +had been many rumours and wranglings among the chiefs at night, a council +of war was fixed for this morning, and no one knew what it was all about. +There had been great doings overnight in the town, and he, Donald, had +stood guard at the Prince's lodging. + +"She dinged 'em a', as I tell't ye she would," he said. "Losh, man, it +was a grand sight to see her an' the bonny Maclachlan gliding ower ta +flure in ta dancin'. They were like twa gowden eagles gliding in the air +ower a ben wi' ta sun shinin' on it. Losh, man, I tell it ye, they're a +bonny, bonny pair. Got pless 'em." + +"Good-bye, Donald! I'll push on. Damn Swift Nicks!" I cried, and gave +Sultan such a dig in the flanks that he shot ahead like an arrow from a +bow. I was sorry immediately, but it was more than I could stand. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE COUNCIL AT DERBY + + +It was a relief to get into the chock-full streets of the town, where +thinking was impossible and good round cursing indispensable. Even with +its aid in clearing a course for him, Sultan tumbled over a brace of +Highlanders, two of a swarm of Maclachlans and Macdonalds who were +disputing possession of a cutler's shop on the corner of Bag Street. After +their native fashion, they immediately suspended their quarrel to unite +against a common foe, but on a Maclachlan recognizing me as a friend, went +at one another again with infinite zest, and I saw them hard at it as I +turned into the market-square. + +Our meagre collection of cannon had been packed here with their +appendancies, and I was threading my way through them to the far side of +the square, where stands Exeter House, and was within a flick of a pebble +of it, when the Colonel ran out, bareheaded and eager, and came up to me. + +"You young dog! What's happened?" said he. + +"I've lost my hat, sir," I replied. + +"Lost your--Damme! I'll have you court-martialled yet before I've done +with you. Off you come! Hello, my precious. Hitch him to the tail of yon +wagon and come along. The Prince saw you from the window. Steady, my +beauty! Come along, Noll! Fancy a town the size of this and not a damned +pinch of Strasburg in it!" + +I hurried after him through the hall and up the stairs. Something big was +in hand beyond a doubt, for hall and stairs were thronged with groups of +Highland leaders, and in one set, somewhat apart, I saw Murray and +Ogilvie. The Colonel took no notice of the curious looks that were cast +upon us, particularly me, but, after a word with the chief on duty, +ushered me unceremoniously into the presence. + +Charles was taking short turns up and down near the hearth, but stopped +as I bowed before him. + +"You've failed me!" he said bitterly. + +"I have carried out your Royal Highness's commands exactly, though, to my +deep regret, not punctually, but every hour I am late has been spent under +arrest. In riding on your business, sir, I have ridden up to the foot of +the gallows." + +I spoke quietly but crisply, for I would not be girded at unjustly, no, +not by a prince. He took my meaning, and answered generously, "As I knew +you would, Master Wheatman, if need were." + +The noble panelled room in which we were was set out with a long table +and many chairs. At the head of the table a mean-looking man was busily +writing. At the window two other men stood in earnest conversation, and +these, as I learned later, were the Irishmen, Sir Thomas Sheridan and +Colonel O'Sullivan. + +"Leave your dispatch, Mr. Secretary, and come hither. And you, too, +gentlemen!" said Charles. + +So, with the Prince sitting near the fire and the four leaders ranged +behind him, I stood and told my tale, cutting out all that was meaningless +from their point of view. As I had expected, there was no mistaking its +effect on him. I had indeed, come back empty-handed. Yet he pulled himself +together and said lightly, "Well, gentlemen, if the men of the Midlands +are not for me, they are certainly not against me." + +"That is a strong point in your favour, sir," said O'Sullivan. + +"When I've thrashed the Duke and got into London," said Charles, buoyed +up at once by any straw of comfort, "they'll be round me like wasps round +a honey-pot. I wasn't clear last night, but Master Wheatman has decided +me. I ride into London in Highland dress." + +"I applaud the decision of Your Royal Highness," said the foxy secretary. +"It is a merited compliment to your brave clansmen." He afterwards ratted +and so helped to hang some of the best of them. + +"Now for your dispatch to the Marquis," said Charles, going towards the +secretary's papers. "There's time to look at it before Murray and his +supports arrive." O'Sullivan walked softly to one of the windows +overlooking the square, and we followed him. + +"Faith, Colonel," said he. "The game's up if we go on." + +"It is," said the Colonel, tapping at his box. "Damn this rappee, Oliver. +I'd as lief sniff at sawdust." + +"But if the Prince wants to go on, I back him up," added O'Sullivan. + +"So do I," said Sir Thomas. + +"So do I," echoed the Colonel, "but, damme, I shall tell him the precise +truth about the military aspect of the situation. One's my duty as a +soldier just as much as the other. I haven't the least objection to dying, +but be damned if I want my reputation to die with me. The most you can say +of rappee, Oliver, is that it's better than nothing." + +"That's just what I've been thinking, sir," said I, with equal gravity, +"about my old hat." + +"You're keeping that story for Margaret, you young dog, but she's bound +to tell me. I was out of bed till two o'clock this morning, listening to +her clatter about getting married quick, and walls of Troy, and ham and +eggs. She nearly prated the top of my head off, and did not kiss me +good-night till I'd told her for the seventeenth time that there was no +need to worry about you. Seventeen times"--a vigorous sniff and a merry +twinkle--"I counted 'em." + +It was obvious nonsense, but it pained me. + +"It was very kind of her, sir," I said at last. + +"Humph!" said he, and turned to talk with the Irishmen. I kept a sharp +look out on the square below, hoping for a glimpse of Margaret, paying no +heed to the earnest conversation buzzing in my ear. Princes and dominions, +and marches and battles, were nothing to me as I stood there fighting for +mastery over myself. + +I was pulled back from these slippery tracks of thought by the Colonel, +who gripped my arm and whispered, "Here they come, Oliver." + +I looked to the door and saw the chiefs filing into the room, led by +Murray, with the greater ones immediately behind him and the others in due +degree, till the room was fairly crowded. Charles continued his colloguing +with Mr. Secretary while they disposed themselves according to their rank +in council, though the Duke of Perth was pleased to take his stand on the +hearth among some of the smaller sort. Sir Thomas Sheridan and Colonel +O'Sullivan left us and seated themselves nearer the Prince, and when they +had done so, and while there was still some noisy settling down to be +done, I whispered to the Colonel, "Oughtn't I to go out now, sir?" + +"I'm for going on to London," said he, grinning at me with his eyes, +though he kept the face of a wooden image. "And first thing we do, Oliver, +we'll lead a desperate attack, you and I, on a tobacco-man's. Damme! +There's wagon-loads of Strasburg in London!" + +"Suppose I start off now, sir, and mark down one or two of the primest." + +"Suppose you stay where you are, lad," he replied. "You're here by +rights: first, because the Prince asked ye here and has not dismissed you, +and you never leave the presence of royalty till royalty kicks you out; +secondly"--pausing to take a pinch of rappee that would have lifted the +roof of my head off--"because you can't have less sense than some of these +chatterers. Council of war! Mob of parliament-men!" + +Thus it came about that, thanks to Swift Nicks, I was present at the +great council which was to decide the fate of the Stuarts. I pushed behind +the Colonel, so that I could now and again steal a peep for Margaret. Just +at the last minute, with Charles lifting his eyes up to begin, the door +opened again to admit Maclachlan, red with the haste he had been making. +It made me grit my teeth to see him, for I knew why he was so hot. He had +been fluttering around Margaret, and so had lost count of time. Then I +stopped my gritting and started grinning. Much Margaret would think of a +man who neglected his soldiering to dangle at her apron-strings! + +His Royal Highness, after his usual habit, opened the Council by stating +his own opinion. + +"I have called you together, gentlemen," he said, "to consider our next +step. The question is: Shall we march west, cut the Duke's forces in two, +and so beat him, or, shall we take advantage of the fact that we are +nearer London than he is, press on, and take possession of the Capital? I +am strongly for the second plan." + +"Damme, sir! Well put!" said the Colonel under his breath. And indeed it +was so well put that the chiefs looked rather hopelessly at one another, +for this was by no means the alternative that they had in mind. It was to +them, as soon appeared, no choice between south and west that they had +come to discuss, but the much more important choice between south and +north. For a minute or two there was a muttering of Gaelic, which the +Prince did not understand, at any rate, so far as the words were +concerned. Then Lord George Murray rose, bowed profoundly to the Prince, +and began the case for the chiefs. + +"The Duke of Cumberland," he said, "was that night at Stafford with an +army of ten thousand foot and two thousand horse. Mr. Wade was coming by +hard marches down the east road and could easily get between His Royal +Highness's army and Scotland. They had authentic news that an army was +being encamped on the north of London. If, then, they marched to London +they would have two armies in their rear and one in front of them, and, +high as he rated the valour and prowess of the army he had the honour, +under His Royal Highness, of commanding, it was vain to suppose that they +could defeat three armies each at least twice as numerous as they. None of +the advantages on which they had relied when they agreed to enter England +had been realized. They had received no accession of strength worth +considering from the English Jacobites; the population were not friendly +but at all times surly and neutral, and on all possible occasions openly +hostile; the promised French invasion had not even been attempted. +Scotland they had won for His Majesty and could and should keep it for +him. To do this required them to return with all speed and with +undiminished forces. On all these grounds he, and those for whom he spoke, +implored His Royal Highness to return thither and consolidate his forces +for a fresh attempt under more favourable conditions." + +His lordship had spoken calmly and with no outward sign of feeling except +that, as he got toward the end of his speech and his drift became open and +manifest, his voice gained more and more emphasis as he saw the +undisguised impatience and growing anger of Charles. The Prince paid no +courteous attention to the arguments of his chief military adviser, but +shot eager glances round the ring of faces, and particularly at His Grace +of Perth, who was visibly flattered by this mute appeal. The Colonel, who +noted all this by-play, was nettled by the Prince's indifference to +military authority, and whispered, "Well done, Geordie Murray! Right as a +trivet!" + +The speech done, the Prince struck his clenched fist on the table and +said, "I am for marching on London." + +It was plain, however, that the chiefs were against him almost to a man. +Murray was clearly in the right, and his military skill and experience +gave him great authority. As yet there was no open murmuring against the +Prince; nothing but manifest determination not to be won over by his +cajoleries or threats. + +"Why should we not go on?" demanded the Prince passionately. "Here we +are, masters of the heart of England. A quick, bold stroke, and London is +ours. The game is in our hands." + +"Game?" cried a rugged, headstrong chief, Macdonald of Glencoe. "The +game's up, sir, thanks to these beer-swilling English friends of your +house, who are Jacobites only round a cosy fire with mugs in their hands." + +"They are only awaiting an earnest of victory," said Charles. + +"Waiting for us to do the work," said Glencoe bitterly, "and then blithe +they'll be to hansel the profits. We can gang back to Scotland as quick as +we like when we've ance got London for 'em!" + +There was a growl of assent from the chiefs, but silence fell again when +the venerable Tullibardine, too racked with gout to stand, took up the +word. + +He spoke as one who had grown old and weary and poor in the service of +the exiled House. The conditions of success, he said, had always been the +same: the Highland adherents of His Majesty could never hope to be more +than the centre around which the real sources of strength, English support +and French aid, might gather; and these had failed now as they had failed +in '15. "I dare not," he concluded, "lift my voice to urge men to take +risks which I am too feeble to share." + +Charles put up a stout fight, but it was no use. Chief after chief had +his say, and then said it again and again. Maclachlan shifted from his +place near the door to the corner of the hearth and, after whispering a +while with the Duke of Perth, confusedly gave his opinion in favour of +going back. + +He was no sort of a speaker, being ill at ease, and plainly occupied in +rummaging about in his mind. Having wits, however, he stumbled on a new +line of argument. + +"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in. +There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, and +its moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising a +great army for the spring." + +"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him. + +Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefs +was a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action. +There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering and +incapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant in +dealing with a man by himself. + +Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to his +feet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He was +almost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, jutting +cheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like a +rat-trap. + +"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If we +dinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barely +a dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' the +name, will ride on my back for the rest of my days." + +"Ye're in the right of it, Strowan," said my Lord Ogilvie. "There's too +few of us for this work, but a little peat will boil a little pot. Let us +gang back and raddle the Glasgow bodies. Ye hae my advice, sir!" + +Here the Prince, to my mind, made a fatal mistake. He had begun by trying +to carry matters merely by the weight of his royal authority. This was +ever his plan in council, and as long as things went well it served, since +the chiefs, looking forward as they then did to ultimate triumph, were not +willing to risk his displeasure by standing out against him. Now that they +were in a tight corner this cock would fight no longer, and he made +matters worse by appealing to the Irishman, O'Sullivan, for his opinion. +He briefly gave it in favour of going on. + +One tale will hold till another's told. O'Sullivan had a great reputation +as a master of the irregular mode of fighting, which must be adopted by an +army composed, like ours, of untrained men not equipped according to the +rules and requirements of soldiership. But my Lord George Murray was ready +for him. + +"Great as Colonel O'Sullivan's reputation is, sir," he said sweetly, "we +have with us in Colonel Waynflete another soldier of great distinction. +His views would be welcome, sir." + +"Yes, indeed," said the Prince eagerly. + +"For myself, sir," said the Colonel, snuff-box open in hand, for he had +been surprised with the rappee between his fingers, "I am ready to go on. +I came to serve your Royal Highness, and I serve my commander as he +chooses, not as I would choose myself. But when you ask me as to the +military result of going on, I tell you frankly, as becomes a soldier of +experience asked in Council to deliver his opinion, that it is idle to +expect this present force to get to London. As you get nearer London, sir, +the country becomes of a kind which your army could not successfully +operate in. It would be confined to roads lined with hedges and passing +through many defendable towns and villages. Your short, powerful charges +would be out of the question. The English as a whole fight well, no men +better; we can't rationally expect all of them to run off at a Highland +yell, and with the country in their favour and London behind them, a +source of constant fresh supplies to them, we should be wiped out in +detail. Your Royal Highness wishes to go on, and therefore I am willing to +go on, but your Royal Highness cannot capture London with the force at +your disposal." + +He finished and took his snuff with zest, seeing that it was still +rappee, and handed me the box with great composure. + +In all they talked and wrangled for three hours, and I got very tired of +it all and spent my time looking through the window for Margaret. There +would be no profit in setting down more of what was said. Indeed, no fresh +point was raised until the Prince argued vehemently in favour of turning +off for Wales, where his adherents were supposed to be very strong. + +This produced a fresh crop of speeches, all on one note--the necessity of +starting back for Scotland. + +The Duke of Perth had been silent so far. He had stood on the hearth, +near the fire, the warmth of which he stood greatly in need of, being +slight and weakly. He had turned his eyes from one speaker to another as +the debate went on, and had gently rubbed the back of his head against the +panelling, as if to stimulate thought. The speech of Colonel Waynflete +plainly had a great effect on him, and I could see that he was making up +his mind, for he continued the gentle rubbing of his head but took no note +of the wrangling and jangling about the Welsh project. The storm lulled, +for it had blown itself out. Everything sayable had been said times out of +number. + +"I am for marching back at once," he declared in a loud voice. + +I was heartily sorry for the Prince. In his mind's eye he had seen +himself in the palace of his fathers with a nation repentant at his feet. +He did not know England,--no Stuart ever did,--or he would have known that +the wave of chivalry that had carried him so far was bound to spend itself +on the indifferent English as a wave spends itself on the indifferent +sands. Yet it was hard to go back, hard to know that he had done so much +more than his grandfather in '89 or his father in '15, and done it in +vain. His standard was proudly flaunting in the heart of England over the +grave of his cause. + +But he died well. "Rather than go back," he cried, "I would wish to be +twenty feet under ground!" + +With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Council. + +"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I am +aide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the 'Bald-Faced +Stag' in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should find +Margaret there, and Mr. Freake." + +I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr. Secretary, moved +thereto by the Prince, sidled up to me, his sly eyes overrunning the +outgoing chiefs as he came. He laid his hand on my arm, which gave me the +creeps, and said, "His Royal Highness would speak with you, sir." + +He sidled back again with me behind him, wondering how far one fair kick +would lift him. I stood stiff and awkward before the Prince, who, however, +addressed the Colonel. + +"Your speech was a shrewd blow to me, Colonel. Nay, don't protest! You +did a soldier's duty by me in Council as you will do it in battle. I ask +no more." + +"And I shall do no less, sir," said the Colonel. + +"Well, give me a pinch of snuff, and I'll ask your advice on another +military point." + +This was the straight way to the Colonel's heart, taking snuff and +talking soldiership being to him the twin boons of life. + +Charles took his rappee thoughtfully and then said, "What is the best way +of dealing with a solid body of the enemy with inferior forces?" + +"Split 'em up and smash 'em in detail, sir." + +"What d'ye say to that, Tom Sheridan?" asked Charles. + +"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied Sir +Thomas. + +"Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, with +great good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning you +used to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatman +writhe to hear it. The only advantage I ever got out of being a Prince was +that old Tom here never dared thrash me for gulping up his rubbish." + +"Master Wheatman knows Latin enough to stock a couple of bishops, sir," +said the Colonel. + +"The devil he does!" said Charles admiringly. "He'll come in handy for +writing me a letter to His Holiness." + +"It's not such bad stuff as all that, sir," said I, glad of a chance of +saying something, for I had been hurt to the quick by talk that reminded +me of how I had quizzed Jack's classics in Old Comfit's entry. + +"To come back to the Colonel's advice," said Charles. "I've split 'em up +and now I'm going to smash 'em in detail. We're not going back, sirs, if I +can help it. Master Wheatman,"--and here he naturally and unaffectedly +took on a princely tone--"we appoint you our assistant aide-de-camp, and +desire your attendance on our person during the day, under the more +immediate authority of our excellent friend, Colonel Waynflete." + +At a sign from the Colonel, which I was lucky enough to see the meaning +of, I dropped on my knee before the Prince. + +"Thank you, Master Wheatman," said Charles, in his ordinary frank way, +when I rose. "You're worth a hundred rats like young Maclachlan." + +I coloured, partly with the praise and partly because I was wondering how +many Smite-and-spare-nots I was worth. + +I was then closely questioned about the lie of the land to the south of +Stafford and Derby. After a long consultation, the Prince dismissed me, +with a gracious invitation to be one of the Royal party at dinner, +promising me, with a sly smile, that the company should be to my liking. + +The Colonel and I withdrew. In the corridor he put me in charge of an +upper servant of the household, and went to see to Sultan. + +My new acquaintance was an elderly man of a solemn, soapy aspect, set off +by a sober black livery and a neat wig. He took me up to a bedroom, and +saw to my comfort. + +"William, or whatever it is," I began. + +"William it is, sir," said he. + +"Do I look like an assistant aide-de-camp to a prince?" + +He took stock of me, from my dirty boots to my bare head, and then said +solemnly, "No, sir!" + +"William," said I, "but that's precisely what I am." + +"Yes, sir," he replied. + +"Therefore this is precisely your opportunity, William." + +"Yes, sir," said he. + +"William," I went on insinuatingly, "I think you could, knowing this +house so intimately as you do, make me look something like an assistant +aide-de-camp to a prince. It's a tough job, William, but you'll do it. I +can see it in your eye. By virtue of the power adherent to the assistant +aide-de-camp of a prince, we hereby authorize you to do all things that +may be necessary for the accomplishment of our purpose, and, when your +task is over, you will, by a curious coincidence, find five guineas under +yon candlestick. Life, William, is full of coincidences." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But not as full of guineas, William, as it should be. Set to work!" + +Instead of going he stood there, gently washing his hands with imaginary +soap and water, and finally said, "You will of course, sir, be very angry +if I do not do as you bid me." + +"I shall, William," said I, lathering away at my chin. + +"I may take it, sir, that you'll blow my brains out if I don't." + +"Blow your--Oh, I see! Certainly!" said I, tailing off from astonishment +into understanding. + +The quiet humour of the man was delightful. I fetched a pistol out of my +pocket and added gravely, "William, unless I am, in appearance as well as +in fact, a prince's assistant aide-de-camp in half an hour, I'll blow your +brains out. Now clear out, while I have a bath!" + +"Thankee, sir. It'll be all right now. My lord is, I should say, just of +a size with your honour." + +William was an artist and fitted me out with the nothing-too-much of +exact taste. There were garments by the score that would have made a +popinjay of me, but he knew better, and turned a sober young yeoman into a +sober young gentlemen, and there's no harder task, as I have frequently +observed since. + +"Sir," said he at length, stepping back a few paces to con me over, "in +any other man I should deplore the obstinacy-excuse my plainness, sir +--which declines to wear a wig, but the general result, the _tout +ensemble_, as my lord would put it, is agreeable." + +"William," I replied, "you err through ignorance--excuse my plainness, +William. The best Wheatman of the Hanyards that ever lived would have +burned at the stake rather than wear a wig. I've done most of the other +things he would have burned for, but I'll stick by him to this extent that +I'll be damned if I'll wear a wig." + +I never have, and it is no small measure due to me that the wearing of +wigs is being left to lawyers and doctors, who, I understand, find it pays +to look old and old-fashioned. + +"Quite so, sir! A very proper sentiment," said William, with his eye on +the candlestick. "It's family pride that keeps the great families agoing, +sir, and they're the backbone of the Constitution, sir!" + +After this high sentence, as I was ready to go, he gravely escorted me to +the door and bowed me out. I dropped my ear to the keyhole and heard the +chink of the guineas. William clearly had a very pretty appreciation of +the best means of keeping himself agoing. A suaver, defter rascal I have +never set eyes on. + +I had already so much of soldiership as to know that it is well to master +the ins and cuts and roundabouts of a strange house. If an emergency comes +it may be the best guide to action. "Know your ground and win your fight," +the Colonel used to say, and it's as true of a house as of a province. So +I walked softly and watchfully about, and in doing so had turned sharp to +the right to gain a view of the river and the gardens, when I came on the +Lady Ogilvie. She was kneeling on a cushioned settle, resting her chin in +her hands, and her elbows on the high back of the seat. + +She turned to see who it was. Her face was clouded over, but the sun of +her smile broke through in a flash, and she darted joyously at me. + +"It's the incomparable one!" she cried, bubbling over with merriment. +"Nay, I vow, it's the still more incomparable one. Losh, man, and ye look +bonny! I'm telling it ye, and I've seen more bonny men than you've seen +bullocks. Sit down and tell me where you've been and what you've done. +Davie says you tell't him I was very, very guid. And so I am," she ended +complacently, "and if any man says the differ...." + +"He'll do well to keep out of Davie's road and mine," I cut in, as I was +building up the cushions into a soft corner for her. + +"You're an unco' guid lad," she said, wriggling into her nest, "an' if it +werena for some one I ken I'd gie ye anither kiss." + +I willingly admit that I wished Davie far enough, for she was a very +dainty lady, with a mouth like an open rose-bud. + +We had a long talk, for I told her all about my doings with ghost, +thieves, thief-catchers, and baby Blount. She enjoyed it to the top of her +bent. Then, when I had come to the end of my tale, she sobered all of a +sudden, and said, "Oliver, what's going to happen to us?" + +"I don't know," said I. + +"There's something in the wind I dinna like. Davie's a' for ganging back. +We women ought never to have come. Davie can think o' naething but me. As +if I mattered a tup's head, the silly gomeril, bless him! Now there's your +Maclachlan. He'd go to London if it was full o' deevils to fetch a +stay-lace for Margaret, but he's a' for the homeward gait too!" + +"The best military opinion is that it is hopeless to go on," said I. + +"And I dinna think it's much better to gae back, laddie. It's a retreat. +Ca' it what you like, you can mak' nae ither thing of it, and these +Highland bodies, ance they retreat, will break to bits. Naething will keep +the main of 'em taegither, ance they cross the Highland line again. Sae +it's a black look out, Oliver, but I dinna mind ane wee bit. If I'd no +been a Jacobite, I'd never hae met my Davie yonder. He's worth it a', is +Davie." + +"It's a hard task for any man to be worthy of your ladyship," said I, +"but Davie's worthy if any man is." + +"And Davie reckons you're fine," she replied, smiling. "Margaret pit him +doon for three dances, and sat in a corner with him through 'em a'. I +wonder the incomparable one's lugs"--I knew what she meant because she +pinched one--"arena burnt off his head. You should hae seen Maclachlan +ranting and raving like an auld doited tup!" + +"It is pleasant to learn that Mistress Waynflete is so interested in my +doings," said I, with as much coolness and aloofness as I could muster. I +would at least keep my foolishness on my own side of my teeth. + +"Unco pleasant, I hae nae doot," was her dry comment. And she set her red +lips aslant as if she were swallowing vinegar. + +I remembered my new function, and looked at my watch. I had long overrun +the hour the Colonel had given me. + +"Your ladyship will pardon me," said I, springing up, "but I'm overdue +for duty." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes. His Royal Highness has appointed me assistant aide-de-camp to +himself." + +I spoke with much impressiveness but, to my chagrin, instead of the +congratulations that were my due on such an occasion, she looked concerned +and almost angry, and cried, "The very deil's in it!" + +"I am sorry your ladyship is displeased," I said coldly. Scot clings to +Scot, and she did not like it. + +"Displeased, ye daft gomeril!" she retorted. "And I suppose you'll be +pleased, and Margaret will shout for joy, if ye get a dirk in your +assistant aide-de-camp's ribs ane o' these fine nights. Just understand +ance for a', my friend, that a Highlander kills a man wi' as little +compunction as an Englishman squashes a beetle. There's nane o' your +law-and-order bodies beyont the Highland line." + +"Nothing but common murderers!" said I hotly. "I have heard much of the +virtues of the Highlanders of late, but this surprises me." + +"Hoots! Murderers?" she cried. "No such silly Saxon whimsies. They've got +as many virtues as any Englisher that ever snivelled prayer and shortened +yardstick. Murderers! Hoots, my mannie! Just removers of difficulties!" + +So she turned it off with a jest in her pretty way, and got up and jigged +along the corridor with me after her, longing to jig it with her, but +hobbled by my new dignity. I had no clear notion of an assistant +aide-de-camp's duties, but felt that they required a certain solemnity of +manner inconsistent with her ladyship's grasshopper ways. + +In the end, she dancing and I lumbering along, we came on a cheerful +group collected in the corridor below. There was the Prince, the Duke of +Perth, the Lord Ogilvie, the two Irishmen, Mr. Secretary, the Colonel, a +strange lady or two, and Margaret. + +"I thought your ladyship was lost," said Charles, smiling. + +"On the contrary, sir," she retorted, "I was found." + +"The usual explanation," he commented lightly. + +"A most unusual explanation, sir," she countered deftly, "for Mr. +Wheatman has been explaining how it came to pass that he kissed a ghost." + +"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone. + +"It wasna necessary," she said airily. + +"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amused +by the dialogue. + +"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not the +advantage of knowing Master Wheatman." + +He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on, +"I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman of +the Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from the +gentry of his shire." + +It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentried +me in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack in +my coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himself +singularly graceful. + +There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Prince +with one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formal +pairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was coming +for Margaret, and thus left her to me. + +She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked at +me, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, Sir +Kiss-the-ghost!" + +"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly. + +She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly, +"Sensible ghost!" + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST + + +Dinner was a success from the Prince's point of view. The Duke was +completely won over to the idea of our going on, and even the Lord Ogilvie +at one time wavered before the Prince's onslaught. The Irishmen were +strongly in favour of it, and Mr. Secretary, when thawed by wine, grew +expansive over its advantages. I incline to think that the rascal had +ratted already, and was anxious to get all he could out of the Government +by leading the Prince into a trap. Trap it would have been, as Culloden +plainly showed. Against English regular soldiers, resolutely led, the +Highlanders would work no more miracles. + +So for a space the chatter and laughter went on. Charles was already in +St. James's, and the ladies were already queening it in the new Court over +the renegade beauties of the old one. Even Margaret caught some of the +enthusiasm, so that I whispered to her, "You beat our Kate at counting +your unhatched chickens." + +Whereat she sobered all of a sudden, and whispered, "Maybe you are right, +Oliver!" + +"I hope for your sake they are true prophets," I said. "I should dearly +like to see you a marchioness before I go back to my farming." + +"That's one of the chickens I've not counted," she said. + +She looked at me very steadily, and then turned and plunged into the +stream of conversation flowing around her. + +Her father had steered clear of all awkward topics, taking for granted +that we were going on. Charles got less cautious as he got surer, and +moreover, as I could not but observe, he was mellowing somewhat under the +brandy he was drinking. Princes commonly have no judgment of men, having +never the need of noting their humours in order to mould them to their +will. So now Charles bluntly attacked the Colonel again on the military +aspect of the situation, which was merely butting against a stone wall. + +"You must remember, Colonel," he said, "that my Highlanders have driven +the English soldiery before them like sheep. They wiped out an army of +them at Gladsmuir in less than fifteen minutes, and only lost thirty men +killed in doing it." + +"Sir," said the Colonel, "give me one thousand English soldiers for a +week and I'll pit them against any thousand Highlanders you like to bring +against 'em." + +"Then it's a good job you're on my side," said Charles. + +"It is indeed, sir," said the Colonel, very quietly, "and under favour, +sir, you will be well advised to have your troops exercised in the best +ways of charging men who don't mean to run from them. There's no military +science wanted to beat men who run away from you as soon as you attack. As +I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance, +throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he +catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather shield, +where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife +through a cheese." + +"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily. + +"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command +against you." + +There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the +Prince poured out his third glass of brandy. Everybody was intent on the +dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the +napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure +in a Euclid book. + +"How would you stop it, sir?" + +It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy. + +"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely. + +"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently. + +"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more +important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue." + +"Then I only answer, as in the presence of God, for myself," said he +piously. + +"Leaving God to look after Mr. Secretary," said Charles, banging his +empty glass on the table. "I'll answer for the rest. So get on with your +plan, Colonel." + +"His Royal Highness has selected the easier task," whispered Margaret in +my ear. + +"Well, sir," began the Colonel, "I should say to my men: 'When the +Highlanders charge, take no notice of the man who is coming straight at +you. Keep your eye on his left-hand man, who is coming at your right-hand +man. Don't fire at him till you can see the whites of his eyes, and if you +don't bring him down with the bullet, have at him and thrust your bayonet +into his right ribs. There's no buckler there, and his right arm will be +up to strike. The man coming at you will be attended to in the same way by +your left-hand man.' After a week's practice in that little trick, sir, I +should face any charge your Highlanders liked to make, and would bet a +thousand guineas to this pinch of rappee--poor stuff as it is--on stopping +'em dead in their tracks." + +"By gad! and so you would, sir!" said my Lord Ogilvie explosively. + +"It sounds feasible," said old Sir Thomas, "but fortunately Colonel +Waynflete is with us, and can teach us new tricks." + +"Of course he can," said Charles. "What do you say, Master Wheatman? You +know him." + +"That old poachers make the best gamekeepers, sir," I answered. + +"_Nom de chien_," cried the Colonel, twirling fiercely round on me. +Margaret, who sat between us, laughingly pretended to protect me from him, +and he thrust his snuff-box across at me. + +The Prince rose, and, followed by Murray, left the room. We all stood +gossiping together. Ogilvie and O'Sullivan talked very earnestly about the +Colonel's trick. His Grace of Perth ogled Margaret off towards the window +on pretence of showing her some sight of interest in the square. + +"Did they leave him in the lurch?" twittered a voice mockingly in my ear. +It was my lady Ogilvie. + +"It must be nice to be with a duke," said I, very glum and miserable +again all of a sudden. + +"It's a great deal nicer to be with a man," she answered. "Come and help +me throw crumbs to the pretty wee birdies in the garden." + +In his attempt to 'smash 'em in detail' the Prince was acute enough to +use the Colonel, and condescending enough to use me, as supporters. The +unrivalled military skill which the Colonel would devote to the winning of +London was dwelt upon until even the Colonel, in no wise inclined to +under-estimate it, got restive, and snuffed and pshawed with great vigour. +I, of course, was the early, strong-winged swallow that announced the +flights of laggards behind. + +There were some dozen chiefs of considerable position in the Prince's +army, and he tackled them one by one, and tried to argue them into his way +of thinking. Some he sent for to his lodging; others he visited in theirs +--a special but wasted mark of distinction. On the whole they would not +budge. They were courteous and respectful, for they were gentlemen, and he +was their Prince, but their minds were made up and they would not +surrender their wills to his. Mostly, in their talk, they simply chewed +over again the morning's cud. + +Mr. Secretary went off as envoy to fetch the chiefs to Exeter House, +where the Prince received them in his little private chamber overlooking +the gardens. He would stand, silent and moody, glowering out of the +window, with the Colonel and me standing silent and thoughtful behind him. +I felt keenly for him, for he was indeed a gracious, likeable young +fellow, born to purple poverty and a shadowy princedom, and now, as he +thought, with the reality of wealth and power snatched out of his grasp. + +"If we go back," said he, turning his eyes on me, so that I saw how life +and light had quite gone out of them, "it's all over with my House." + +"I hope not, sir," said I. + +"I know it is," he cried bitterly, almost rudely. "All over with us--and +all over with me. If we go on, I shall at the worst go to my grave strong +and sweet. If we go back--" + +He paused and looked moodily out of the window. I think now, as I picture +him to myself standing there, that he knew himself well enough to know +what was coming. For another picture of him comes to my mind, as I saw him +in Rome many years later, and shuddered as I saw him. + +He turned and smiled at me, as one smiles who sips sour wine. + +"If we go back, friend Wheatman, I shall just rot into it." + +He spoke truth. I saw him rotting. + +And then, because he had more stuff in him than any other royal Stuart +that ever lived, he turned round, proud and princely, as the door opened +and in came Mr. Secretary with Macdonald of Glencoe, a short-horned bull +of a man. + +"And when was it," said he, rapping the words out like hammer-strokes on +an anvil, "that the Macdonalds got feart?" + +The Chief pulled up short, hit clean and hard between the eyes. + +"Ye'll never see a feart Macdonald," he said, "if ye live to be as auld +as Ben Nevis." + +"Ye're in the wrong, Glencoe," said Charles. "I saw one this morning, and +he was frightened of the English." + +"I'll gie ye the lie o' that," roared Glencoe, "if I hae to scrat my way +into London wi' ma nails." + +"I'll be glad of the lie from you on those terms," replied Charles +calmly, "and you shall ride into London at my right hand while I take my +words back." + +The Prince went to a table and filled a silver-gilt tass with brandy. He +sipped it and then, handing it to the Chief, said, "We'll share the same +glass to-day, Glencoe, as a pledge that we'll share the same victory +to-morrow." + +I did not like his brandy-drinking, but he did it well this time. As I +have said, he was at his best in dealing with a single man face to face. +It is only the rarest and finest spirits that can dominate a crowd. + +At a sign from the Prince the Colonel and I escorted the Chief to the +door, bestowing on him, as was due and politic, every courtesy. He looked +like a man who, after days of doubt, had newly found himself. + +"We've got him!" cried Charles gleefully as the door closed behind him. +"Now, gentlemen, I crave your attendance on a progress round the town. Mr. +Wheatman, bear our compliments to my Lord Elcho, and bid him call out some +score or so of our guards to escort us." + +We made a gallant show as we walked the streets of Derby in the early +grey of that December evening. Ahead of us went a dozen dismounted +life-guards to clear the causeways. Then followed Mr. Secretary with a +brace or two of town notables unwillingly yoked to the task of giving an +appearance of local support; then followed the Prince, between O'Sullivan +and the Colonel, with young Clanranald and me at their heels; and another +dozen life-guards in the rear. As we passed along the causeways, a score +or so of mounted guards, with Lord Elcho at their head, kept level with us +in the roadways. Volleys of slogans greeted us wherever we went, for the +town was full to bursting of the clansmen. The townsmen crowded to doors +and windows to watch us pass. + +The Prince doffed to them every other yard, but he and all of us were +mere curiosities to most of them. + +The progress was stayed at the "White Horse" in Sadler-gate, and the +Prince, with us, his immediate attendants, turned into the inn-yard, with +its long uneven lines of stables and coach-houses, all packed with +Camerons. At the news of the Prince's coming they trooped out, yelling +lustily. Some sort of order was formed, and the Prince walked up and down +among the swaying, uncouth masses, with a cheery smile on his face, and +with now and again a phrase of their own Gaelic on his lips. + +"The men are keen enough," he said to the Colonel apart. "Let us go +within and see what mood young Lochiel is in now." + +Lochiel, 'young' only by way of distinction from a Lochiel still older, +wanted no digging out, for, the news having been carried to him, he ran +out bareheaded and breathless. He was, in fact, a middle-aged gentleman, +broody and melancholy at times, as these men of the mountains are apt to +be when they've got brains. At the Council he had been silently set on +going back. + +"Your men are in fine fettle, Lochiel," said Charles, "and as keen as +their claymores to be at it." + +"They dinnae see the hoodie-craws gathering for the feast," said Lochiel +sombrely. + +"They see the battle won and the spoils of victory, after the usual way +with the Camerons," replied the Prince. + +"They havenae the gift of far-seeing," said the Chief, gloomily proud of +his own prophetic powers. + +Charles started impatiently, and there would have been a wrangle but for +the Colonel. + +"Sir," said he, addressing the Prince, "you will forgive an old +campaigner for being a stickler for the rules and procedures of military +operations. An inn-yard, with soldiery around and townsfolk gaping through +doors and windows, is no place for a council of war. The gentleman is +pleased to dream, of birds, as I gather. Let him back to the fireside and +dream of them in peace." + +Without another word the Prince turned on his heel and strode out of the +yard. I attended him at first, but missed the Colonel, and turned back to +him, for Lochiel was all a Highlander, seer one minute and savage the +next. Indeed, I found him, all his moodiness gone, as mad as a hatter. + +"I'll hae the heart's blood o' ye for this, prince or no prince," he +bawled at the Colonel, who, precisely as I expected, was seizing the +welcome opportunity of having a pinch of snuff. + +"Good lad!" said he, holding out the box, as indifferent to the crowding +Camerons as if they were sheep. "Make it pigeons next time, Mr. Lochiel. +Damme, Oliver, this rappee gets unendurable." + +His coolness took Lochiel off the boil, and he and I passed out without +another word into Sadler-gate and hurried after the Prince. We found the +progress somewhat ragged, and, as we were only a few yards from the corner +of Rotten Row, which forms the side of the square opposite Exeter House, +it was, I suppose, hardly worth while to trim it into shape again. In +those few yards, however, an incident much more to my liking occurred, for +just as we turned round the leading file of the rear of guards, we found +that the Prince had again halted, in the light of a shop-window, and this +time it was to talk to Margaret, who was standing there with Master Freake. + +It was a large shop with two well-stocked bow-windows. The doorway +between them, and half the inwards of the shop, were filled with the shop +master, his apprentices, and customers, crowding and craning to get a +sight of the Prince. Over the door was a shield-shaped sign, bearing the +Derby ram for cognizance, and the legend, "Martin Moyle, Grocer and +Italian Warehouseman." I noted it then, because the word 'Italian' carried +me back to Margaret's tirra-lirring, and I note it down now because, +having looked at it, my eyes ranged over the heads of the gapers in the +doorway to where Maclachlan, on the fringe of the group, was dodging about +to find a place where he could see Margaret without being seen by the +Prince. + +Master Freake was talking with the Prince as composedly as if they had +been friends of old standing. We had missed the beginning of their talk, +but it was plain that Charles had expected a recruit and was disappointed. + +"And why do you stand aside from us both?" he asked. + +"Sir," said the sedate merchant, "I am not interested in making kings." + +"What then?" + +"Kingdoms, sir." + +"Kingdoms!" cried the Prince. + +"Kingdoms!" reiterated Master Freake, with pride and emphasis. "But for +me, and men like me, this country would be a waste not worth fighting for." + +The Prince looked with astonishment at the calm, solid man who made this +strange announcement. After a minute's reflection, he said, "Mr. Freake, I +would talk with you in private, if you will." + +"With pleasure, sir," replied Master Freake. + +"And, naturally, Mistress Waynflete will not be cruel," continued the +Prince, offering his arm. + +Margaret took it, and the procession moved on again. Master Freake linked +his arm in mine, and we walked on together. + +"You've had adventures, I hear, since we parted, Oliver." + +"I fell into the claws of poetic justice," I answered, "and, having +failed as a real highwayman, nearly hanged as an imaginary one." + +He laughed. "Well, keep out of the sergeant's claws. He's only five miles +off with a brace of his dragoons, but little Dot is watching him. The time +to deal with him is not yet. Wait till his lordship of Brocton joins him. +What do you think of the Prince?" + +"I would not have believed a prince could be so likeable, sir." + +"I am, and shall remain, a mere observer," he said, "a mere tracker-down +of ten per cent on good security, but I don't mind admitting that, prince +for prince, I prefer this young gentleman to the fat, snuffy, waddling, +little drill-sergeant he's trying to displace." + +"You know the King, sir!" + +"Well, and I know his weak spot, too, which is more important for our +purposes. If His Gracious Majesty went to bed to-night with as many +guineas in his pocket as that"--he jingled his loose coin vigorously +--"he'd sleep in his breeches." + +On the way to Exeter House the Prince recovered his high spirits, and +even kept us waiting in the hall while he continued some lightsome +argument Margaret had led him into. At last he broke it off, laughing. + +"Mr. Freake will think me an idle princeling for this, madam," he said. +"For your offence in thus hindering our matters of state we commit you to +ward, and straightly charge our loyal subject, Master Wheatman, to hold +you safe in keeping till after supper, when we will undertake to show you +that our Highland reel can be as graceful as your Italian fandango." + +So, in great good humour, he went off with the Colonel and Master Freake. + +"Your aide-de-camp's commission runs so far, I trust," said Margaret +demurely, "as to permit me to choose my own cell." + +"I think that might be allowed, madam," I replied, with answerable +gravity, "but of course I must sit outside the door and keep strict watch +over you." + +"You would, I suppose, feel surer of me if you sat inside the door?" + +"Naturally, madam." + +"Then come along! I must know all that's knowable about that ghost. 'I +never said any such thing,' quoth he! You're the cleverest man with your +tongue I ever met, Oliver. And with what a pretty heat he said it! Just +as, beyond a doubt, he did it with that pretty way he has." + +If words were tones, and smiles, and eye-flashes, and lip-curlings, I +could tell you not only what Margaret said but how she said it, and how, +in saying it, she made mad sweet music ring within me. + +We were out in the square again now, threading our way among people I +hardly saw for being so wrapt up in her. + +"Was she a pretty ghost?" + +"Very," said I decidedly. + +"How old was she?" + +"Eighteen, or thereabouts." + +"Eighteen! Oh, dear! I never dreamed it was as bad as that. I think +kiss-giving and kissable ghosts over thirteen ought not to be allowed. +Eighteen! It's a clear incitement to suicide!" + +I was laughing at her whimsical sally when one particular item in the +crowd demanded attention, for it obtrusively barred our way. It was +Maclachlan, once again hot and red with haste, waving a small package he +had in his hand. + +"Ye left me, Mistress Margaret," he said. "I've been searching high and +low for ye." + +"And I'm glad you've found me, for I see you've got me the olives. You +are indeed kind, Mr. Maclachlan." + +"Ye left me!" he repeated passionately. + +"That's true," she said lightly. "I forgot all about you till I saw a +hand with an obvious bottle of olives dangling from it." + +Now this was not Margaret, or at least it was another strange side of +her. With me she had been almost absurdly grateful for such little +services as I had rendered. I had got her eggs, as he had got her olives, +but I and my eggs had not been received like this. I looked from one to +the other curiously. She was cool and smiling, as befitted some small +social occasion. He was just as clearly throbbing with passion. He, the +Maclachlan, had been neglected, and neglected for me! I wondered why +Margaret did not tell him that the Prince had commanded her company. That +should have satisfied even him; but no, she left him in his error, and +merely took the olives out of his hand, saying, "I hope they'll be fresh, +though it's hardly to be expected in a little town in the middle of +England." + +Maclachlan had paid not the slightest attention to me and, while ready +enough to deal with him, I paid none to him, and began to think him +somewhat of an ass to be standing in the market-place of Derby airing his +passions. Fortunately, perhaps, Lord George Murray, striding by towards +Exeter House, caught sight of us and stopped abruptly. + +"Ha' ye made a' right at the bridge yonder, Maclachlan?" + +The young Chief's face supplied the answer. + +"Ye havenae!" stormed Murray. "By gad, sir," lugging out his watch, "if +you don't, in two hours from now, report all arrangements made, I'll hae +ye shot by a squad of the Manchester ragabushes. Aff wi' ye, ye jawthering +young fule!" + +Maclachlan went off without so much as a bow to Margaret. + +"Have you taken out your commission, sir?" said Murray to me, snapping +the words out as though he would have them shear my head off. + +"I have, my lord," I answered, forestalling the words with a correct +military salute. + +"Then what the blazes are you doing here?" + +"My lord," I answered firmly, "by the direct commission of His Royal +Highness, given to me personally, I am escorting this lady to jail." + +"Then I'll forgive ye!" he retorted, and his strong face lost all its +anger and found the wraith of a smile. "Dinnae be too hard on the lassie! +She's ane of the right sort." + +He returned my salute, bowed courteously to Margaret, and strode on + +"Good lad!" said Margaret, happily mimicking her father. "You shall have +some of the olives in a minute or two." + +"Olives seem to me precisely the right thing for us," said I. + +"And why, sir?" + +It was very curious to me to see how, in her speech to me, she whipped +about from the familiar "Oliver" to the stately "Sir." There was always a +reason for it, and I would have given much to know it. + +"Your olives come from Italy, and I have been thinking of your Italian +count." + +"So have I," she said very soberly, and never said another word till we +were safe and quiet in her day-room at the "Bald-Faced Stag." + +For over two hours I had Margaret to myself, and we were as happy and +companionable as we had been in Dick Doley's cottage. And at this I +marvelled. Our Kate was the only woman I had to judge by, and when our +Kate got into her very best Sunday gown she got into her tantrums along +with it, and poor Jack, what with awe of her finery and anxiety lest he +should anger the minx, commonly had a thorny time of it. With Margaret it +was just the opposite. When we got in, she excused herself and went off to +her own room, coming back, after a weary time, in such a glory of silks +and satins that I blinked my eyes before her dazzlements. What made it +worse was that there was a comb--as she called it, though I should in my +ignorance have thought it some rich and rare work in filigree belonging to +an empress--which, owing to the smallness of her mirror and the poor +light, she could not get to sit perfectly in its golden cushion, and I was +bidden to put it where and as it ought to be. I was a long time over the +task, in part because I was really clumsy, but mainly because I was in no +hurry. I got it right at last, and even ventured, very craftily and +lightly, to kiss it as it lay there. + +"It's quite right now," said I. + +"At last! I'm afraid it's been a trouble to you. Now, Oliver, open the +bottle of olives, and, while we eat them, tell me all about the ghost." + +Many a time in the hard days that came to me later, I refreshed my soul +by thinking those happy hours over again. They are part of me, but no part +of my story, and I make no record of them here. We had long talks, with +long silences between them, as can only happen with very real friends who +are company for one another without a clatter of words. + +At last this golden time came to an end, for in walked the Colonel and +Master Freake to supper. + +"I am thankful," said the Colonel to Margaret. "Murray told me you'd been +taken to jail." + +"You heard the news with great content, I suppose," said Margaret. + +"I did, because--" He stopped to frown into the snuff-box. + +"Because of what? Pray observe, gentlemen, what an affectionate father I +have!" + +"Because he also told me the name of your jailer!" + +"You don't deserve to have a daughter," declared Margaret, with such a +pretence of vehemence that her cheeks, between and beneath her coils of +yellow hair, blazed like two poppies in a wheat-shook. + +"I've made up for it by deserving something even better, and that's a +good supper. Pull the bell, Oliver!" + + * * * * * + +Arrived in the great chamber at Exeter House, we found Charles making his +last stand. Feeling ran riot; there was little regard for the regentship +of the Prince; true to itself to the end, the Stuart cause was dying in a +babel of broken counsels. + +The ladies of the party were collected, uncertain and disquieted, on the +hearth, where Margaret joined them, while the Colonel and I made our way +and stood behind the Prince. + +"His Grace of Perth desires to go on," said Charles. "So does Glencoe. So +do my faithful Irish friends. Your men, as you well know, expect to go on. +To get them to go back, you must start in the dead of night and lie to +them, telling them they are going on. Only you, their chiefs and fathers, +want to go back." + +"To hell with the Irish!" cried one from the background. "They're no' +worth the dad of a bonnet." + +"It's no matter to them," said another man by him. "They've neither haid +nor maid to lose." + +This fetched O'Sullivan to his feet in a tearing rage. "We've got lives +to lose," he cried, "and, by G--, we're not afraid to lose 'em!" + +At this the yelling must have been heard in the square, and the +gesticulating and grimacing would have been amusing on a less serious +occasion. At last, in a lull in the gale, the Colonel, addressing the +Prince, curtly demanded, "Who is the chief military commander of your +army, sir?" + +"My Lord George Murray," answered Charles bitterly. + +"Then it's time your commander commanded. This spells disaster whether we +go on or go back." + +"It's the plain truth you're telling, Colonel Waynflete," said Lord +Ogilvie loudly. In an undertone I heard him say, "Oot wi' it, Geordie!" + +When Murray arose, everybody knew the finishing touch was to be put to +the business, and a strained silence fell on the assembly. + +"I have advised ye to go back, sir," he said, "because, in the complete +absence of the support we were led to expect, it is foolish to go on. Your +Royal Highness wants to go on, and there's not a man here who does not +honour you for your courage. Now, sir, I will go on, and so shall every +man here I can command or influence, if those who hae tell't ye behind my +back that they think we ought to go on will put their opinion down in +writing and subscribe their names to it, here and now. One condition more, +sir. That writing, so subscribed, shall be sent by a sure hand direct from +this town to His Majesty in Rome, so that he may judge each man justly." + +"I agree," said Charles eagerly. "Pen and paper, Mr. Secretary!" + +It at once became clear, however, that Murray had taken the measure of +the men he had to deal with. + +"Why make flesh of one and fish of another?" asked O'Sullivan, and old +Sir Thomas nodded approval of the question. + +"The decision should be the decision of the Council," said the Duke of +Perth. + +"Will ye write your names to it, or will ye not?" demanded Murray. + +No one spoke. + +"That settles it, sir," said Murray. "But I desire you, Mr. Secretary, to +make a note of my offer and its reception." + +"Have your way!" said Charles, in sullen anger. "But it settles another +thing for ye. I call no more councils." + +He turned and strode out of the room. The Stuart cause was in its coffin, +and it only remained for us to give it a fair burial. + +When the door closed behind the Prince, the Colonel whispered in my ear, +"Slip off and tell Freake!" + +I did the journey at a run, and found Master Freake sitting, quietly +meditative, but booted and spurred for his journey. + +"Well, Oliver?" + +"We go back to-night." + +In five minutes I was standing in the Ironmarket at his grey mare's head. + +"I'm not deserting you, lad," said he, gripping my hand heartily. + +"Of course not, sir. Good-bye, and good luck!" + +"My love to Margaret. Look out for the sergeant. Good-bye!" + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A BROTHER OF THE LAMP + + +Two days afterwards, towards six o'clock on a bitter evening, I rode +wearily into Leek. I was having a hard apprenticeship in soldiering under +a master who had no idea of sparing either me or himself. For the Colonel +had accepted the post of second, under Murray, in command of our +rear-guard, and had made it a condition of acceptance that I should be +with him. Some thirty Highlanders, mostly Macdonalds, picked dare-devils, +had been mounted and turned into dragooners, and I, thanks to the Colonel, +had been made Captain over them. + +"The lad's no experience, but he's got sense," he said to my lord George +Murray. + +"I ken him weel aneugh," said his lordship. "He threatened to knock my +head off. D'ye ca' that sense, Kit Waynflete?" + +"Since your head's still on your shoulders," said the Colonel, fumbling +for his snuff, "I do. He knocked Maclachlan's Donald into a log of timber, +and, damme, I hardly saw his hand move." + +"That's only a trick, sir," I protested. + +"Weel, Captain Wheatman," said Murray, "keep your ugly English tricks to +y'rsel. Mind ye, colonel or no colonel, I'll break ye first chance ye gie +me." + +Maclachan was, I must say, very obliging and complimentary over my +promotion. He gave me Donald to be my sergeant and personal servant, +finding him, how I knew not, a horse strong enough to carry him easily. + +"It is ferra guid," said Donald to his chief. "Er shall pe lookit to as +if her were ma mither's own son." + +To me, Captain Wheatman, clinking about in the corridor waiting for the +Colonel, comes William, suave and confidential as ever. + +"Well, William," said I. "Any more coincidences?" + +"Yes, sir," said he, and began his hand-washing. + +"You'll die a rich man, William." + +"No, sir. This particular coincidence made me the poorer by, I should +say," suspending his washing to calculate, "some five shillings." + +"The devil it did! How was that?" + +"Your honour's clothes that you left behind, sir, when you were +transmuted, as my lord would say, were stolen." + +"And you value them at five shillings! I ought to crack your head for you." + +"Yes, sir. Cast-offs sells very cheap, sir. But the coincidence, sir! +I've not really come to that yet." + +"Go on, William! You interest me deeply." + +"I found them, sir, at the bottom of the garden, torn to rags, sir!" + +"And sold 'em for fivepence! Eh, thrifty William?" + +"Sixpence, to be exact, sir!" + +The Colonel rushed me off, but I found time to give the rascal a crown, +which put him sixpence in pocket. A servant ought to have his vails, and, +besides, William's concern amused me a good crown's worth. + +This was late on in the night after the final decision to go back, and +since then I had been scouting miles behind the main body of our +rear-guard, so as to make sure that the Duke's horse were not on our +track. I had slept by driblets as opportunity offered. Now, my purpose +accomplished, I was looking forward to supper and bed, having left a +patrol of fresh men some six miles back to watch the southern road. + +There was one thing in my mind, however, that must be attended to first. +I must see Mistress Hardy of Hardiwick. My heart ached for her, for I knew +how sorely she would feel the retreat of the Prince. Moreover, the +clansmen were not likely to discriminate between her and other townsfolk, +and I would save her from disturbance. So, jumping off the sorrel, and +giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I +was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly +behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret. + +"You've no need to trouble, Oliver," she said. "I've kept a room for you +at the 'Angel.'" + +"Thank you," I replied. "You are very kind, madam." + +"Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes +open to look at me. Come along, sir!" She was merrily pulling at my arm as +she spoke. "I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you +know, sir!" + +"No, madam! Certainly not." + +"No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very +last resource." + +"Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I +shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must +see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch." + +"We'll go together!" said Margaret, putting her arm in mine. + +The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed. +I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman +appeared, candle in hand. + +"I knew you'd come, sir," she said simply. "And this is your lady! Come +in!" + +Candle in hand, she paced ahead of us to the door of the room, and then +stood aside, erect and solemn, to let us pass in. I looked at her closely. +The worried, anxious look on her comely face had gone, and she was +subdued, calm, and happy. + +"Thank God!" she whispered. "She's at peace!" + +I stepped ahead of Margaret into the fine old room, with its pleasant +memorials of ancientry. There they were, just as I had seen them +--scutcheon, portrait, glove, and pounce-box. There was no change in them; +they were the abiding elements on which a strong soul had kept itself +strong. But change there was. At the _prie-Dieu_, kneeling in a +rapture before the Virgin Mother, was a solemn, black-robed priest. A +narrow white bed was in the room. Two large candles burned steadily at its +head, two at the foot; and on the bed, the linen turned down to reveal the +thin, frail hands crossed below the Prince's brooch, lay the still, white +form of our lady of the square. God had taken her to Himself. Death had +caught her with a welcoming smile on her face, and, in pity and ruth, had +left it there. + +The Hardys of Hardiwick had given their last gift to the cause. + +Tears were streaming down Margaret's cheeks. With shaking hands she +removed her hat and, kneeling down at the bedside, clasped her hands in +prayer. + +"She talked no end about you, sir," whispered the serving-woman, "and +about the beautiful lady with you. That standing in the cold square to see +the Prince was the death of her. She would have her bed put down here, +sir. She wanted to die here, with the old shield in her eyes, for she was +proud of her blood, as well she might be." + +"Yes," I whispered back. "She was the last of a great race." + +"Aye, sir. She was that. She was a bit moithered in her mind, dear heart, +just afore she went. The last words she said were a prayer for his soul, +--her sweetheart you know, sir, that she lost sixty years ago,--just as +I'd heard her pray thousands of times. But, poor thing, she got his name +wrong. She called him 'John.'" + +Choking, I threw myself on my knees beside Margaret, and prayed and +fought, and fought and prayed again. Here, before me, I saw Death in the +only shape in which it can give no sorrow--sinless age that had gently +glided into immortality; and, with equal vision, I saw the black +passage ... and the still twisted thing lying there in a patch of +gloom ... my friend, gone in the pride of his youth ... his life spilt out +in anger and agony ... and by me. Then the innocent hand of her for whom, +though all unwittingly, I had done this thing, crept on to my shoulder, +and I turned to look at her. + +"Thank God we came, Oliver!" she whispered. + +Before we could rise, the black-robed priest lifted his tall, gaunt frame +slowly from the _prie-Dieu_. Standing on the opposite side of the bed +he raised his hands in blessing. + +"Our sister is with God," he said, his deep voice vibrant with emotion. +"My children, you are, as I think, those who were much in her prayers at +the last. I know not who you are, but, in her memory and in God's name, I +give you in this life His Peace, and in the life to come the assurance of +His Everlasting Blessedness. Amen." + +He ceased. Gravely, and in a solemn silence, he knelt again at the +_prie-Dieu_. We rose. First Margaret, and then I, kissed the Prince's +brooch and the folded hands, and then stole out of the room. We were too +awe-stricken to speak, or even to look at each other, but, as we went, she +placed her hand in mine. + +Weary days, full of hard riding and scouting, passed before I saw +Margaret again. I was always in the rear, generally far in the rear, while +she and the other ladies were, very properly, kept well ahead. She now +rode in the calash with Lady Ogilvie,--the two being inseparable,--and +Maclachlan was with them. My work was hard and anxious but it kept me from +thinking overmuch. I put all my soul into it so that it should. + +"The lad does very well, as I told you he would," said the Colonel to +Murray one night when I rode in to make my report. + +"I see no signs of my chance of breaking him," said his lordship grimly, +but he would have me sup with him that night, and was very unbending and +helpful. + +There is nothing I need say about this stage of the retreat. It was well +managed, and is, I am told, a very creditable piece of soldiership. It +does not belong to my story but to history, to which I leave it. + +Things did happen, however, that do concern me. The first was laughable +though vexatious. This was the manner of it. + +While the Prince was making the stage from Macclesfield to Manchester, +and Murray and the Colonel were in force a few miles in his rear, I had to +keep the country behind them well observed. I had one patrol within sight +of Macclesfield, and others stretching out along an edge of upland country +running westward to the next main road. I spent the night in a little +wayside ale-house, and was having my breakfast next morning when I was +disturbed by a succession of yells from without. + +I ran into the yard and there was Donald, the rough head of one of my +dragoons in each hand, banging them together, varying his bangs with kicks +at any accessible spot, and shrieking at them in Gaelic, while they +shrieked back and wriggled to escape. He stopped when he saw me, but still +held them by the pow. + +"What's it all about, Donald?" I asked. + +"The loons! It's Glencoe 'erself sail hang 'em," he said breathlessly. + +"What for? Out with it, Donald!" + +"Yes, you gomeril"--shoving one of the men sprawling into the stable +--"oot wi' it! Bring your tarn rogues wark 'ere!" + +The man came sheepishly out with my saddle, cut and ripped and gutted +till it wasn't worth a sou. + +Strict and stern inquiry threw little light on the matter. I had my own +suspicions, namely, of two licorous raffatags in the so-called Manchester +regiment, whom I had handsomely kicked out of a roadside cottage where +they were for behaving after their kind. They had been seen prowling about +the curtilage of the ale-house the night before. + +I went back to my breakfast. For a few hours I had to make shift with the +saddle of one of my dragoons, but, after a short halt later on, Donald +brought out the sorrel with a fine, and nearly new, saddle. + +"Tat's petter," said he. "'Er sail ride foine now." + +"This cost you a twa-three bawbees, I'll be bound," I remarked. + +Donald grinned intelligently and I made no closer inquiry. The good +fellow made me uncomfortable, for he would have slit the throat of the +greatest squire along the road to get me a shoe-lace. + +Early next morning his lordship sent me ahead into Manchester with a +dispatch for the Prince, who had spent the night there. It was a welcome +task, for it would, I hoped, give me at least a sight of Margaret. Instead +of this sweet meat, however, I got sour sauce. + +When I got there our army was beginning its onward march, and there were +thousands of people about to watch the clansmen fall in, and little +disguise they made of their feelings. As it happened, when I rode into the +square, Ogilvie's large regiment was lining up, and he left it in charge +of his major to come and talk to me. + +"I'm wishing you'd come half an hour ago," he began. "Ishbel would ha' +given much to see you, and so wad some one else, I'm thinking." + +"Have the ladies started already?" I asked, with painful carelessness. + +"Losh, man, Maclachlan has 'em up and away the morn in fine style. He's +getting a very attentive chiel is Maclachlan, and I wonder ma Ishbel disna +like him better than she does. There's too damn few of us to be spitting +and sparring among ourselves." + +"This is so, my lord," I said. + +"I'm just plain Davie to ma friends," he said simply. "I'm no exactly a +man after God's ain heart, like my Bible namesake, but I hae no speeritual +pride where a guid man's concernit, and it ill becomes men who are in the +same boat, and that only a cockle-shell thing, to be swapping off court +terms wi' ane anither. They're aff, an' we mun step it out. An' I'm no +really a lord." + +"I want the Prince's lodging, Davie," I explained, as we walked on the +causeway level with the head of his column. + +"We march past it, an' I'll drop ye there. The young man takes it verra +ill. The heart's clean melted oot of him. An' sma' wonder! See the sour, +mum bodies in this town! When we came down there were bonfires an' +bell-ringings, an' cheerings, an' mostly every windie wi' a lit candle, +maybe twa-three, in it. The leddies, an' they're nae bad-lookin' lassies +either, had bunches o' plaid ribbons in their bosoms an'--this I hae from +Maclachlan--plaid gairters to their stockings." + +In such talk we spent the way to the Prince's lodging, where I charged +him to carry my greetings to the ladies. He wrung my hand in parting and, +his major having halted the regiment, stepped proudly to the head of his +men. I stood on the edge of the causeway, drew my sword, and stood at the +salute, according to the courtesy of the wars. He returned the honour in +like soldierly fashion, rapped out a command, and so passed on into the +hungry North. It was the last I was to see of Davie, commonly called the +Lord Ogilvie. + +To my astonishment the Prince was not yet risen, and it was some time +before he came to me in his day-room, where I was awaiting him. I rose and +bowed as he entered, and gave him the dispatch. + +"Curse your foul English weather, Captain Wheatman. It's getting into my +bones." + +This was, I fancy, only his way of excusing to me the nip of brandy he +was pouring out. + +"That's better!" he said, putting down the empty glass. "I have something +to thank France for after all." He laughed at his own poor joke, but there +was no ring of merriment in his laughter, and added, "Now for what my +runaway general has to say." + +He read the letter impatiently and sneeringly. "I suppose Mr. Secretary +must write something back," was his comment. "It doesn't matter much what, +since we're running away as fast as our legs can carry us. Any fool, or +rogue, or Murray can run away." + +He paced up and down the room with long angry strides, muttering words I +did not understand. Suddenly he stopped, and turned on me with the +smiling, princely face of the greater Charles I knew and liked. + +"Curse me for an ingrate! I am heartily obliged to you, Captain Wheatman, +for your pains. My lord speaks of you in high terms of praise. And I must +not keep you. Murray must have his answer. Come with me, and Mr. Secretary +shall take it down while I have my breakfast." + +I followed him out and along a passage with doors on either side, outside +one of which stood a servant or sentry, who had eyed me furtively on my +coming inward. When he saw the Prince, he opened the door and thrust in +his head, to announce our visit. He was clumsy, too, and, keeping his head +round the edge of the door too long, bumped into the Prince, who rapped +out an oath and flung him aside. As I followed Charles in, I caught a +glimpse of the back of a man in a heavy mulberry wrap-rascal, guarded with +tarnished silver braid at the cuffs and pockets, who was hastily leaving +the Secretary's room by an inner door. + +"Ha!" said Charles sneeringly. "More plots and politics! If I could be +schemed into a crown, you'd be the man to do it." + +"I must be acquent wi' what gaes on in the toun, your Royal Highness, an' +ma man yonder's a rare ferret, but I didna think him worthy to be in the +presence, sae I just bundled him oot." + +"All your plotting and contrivings will not do you as much good as a +glass of brandy. The climate's getting at you." + +Indeed Mr. Secretary was all of a shake, and looked in a scared manner +from the Prince to me and back again. + +"It's naething but a little queasiness, such as we elder, bookish men are +apt to get by ower-much application. Your Royal Highness is gracious to +note my little ailments," said he smoothly. He had recovered already. + +"Try brandy!" said Charles. "It settles the stomach fine. Well, come and +take down a reply to this while I have some breakfast!" + +The queasiness seemed to return, for Mr. Secretary was slow, captious, +and argumentative, though the matter of the dispatch was only as to where +the army should halt for a day's rest. At last Preston was decided on, and +the dispatch written accordingly. I bowed myself out, jumped on the +sorrel, and started for the Stockport road. + +Our rear was closer up than usual this morning. Manchester, being a +considerable town, was not to be cleared of our main of troops until the +first column of the rear was in the southern skirts of the town. Outside +the Prince's lodging, his escort of life-guards was now drawn up. As I +rode along the edge of the market-square the Camerons were massing, and +the streets adjacent were seething with clansmen. + +I put the sorrel to it and was soon out in the low open country. After +cantering a mile or so, I caught sight of two horsemen, well ahead of me, +riding south at a round gallop. One of them wore a big mulberry +wrap-rascal. It is no uncommon garment to see along a turnpike on a biting +December day, but, ten minutes later, after they dropped to a walk to ease +their horses up a slope, I saw the silver guarding round the pockets. + +If this were the man I had seen hurrying out of Mr. Secretary's room, a +look at him would be worth while, so I spurred after them. The clatter I +made had the desired effect. At the top of the slope, wrap-rascal turned +round. It was Weir, the Government spy. He squealed to his companion, who +looked back in turn. My heart leaped fiercely at the sight of his seamed +leathery face and dab-of-putty nose. It was the sergeant of dragoons. + +Down the slope they raced, with me after them full tilt, proud as a +peacock to be driving two men headlong before me, and one of them an old +campaigner. It was my undoing. The road was lined with straggling hedges, +and a long pistol shot ahead, a cross-track cut it. The sergeant was +giving orders to the spy as they rode, and at the crossway the sergeant, +shouting, "Shoot low!" turned sharp to the left while the spy made for the +right. + +It was a pretty trick, for it put me between two fires. I was on the +spy's pistol hand as he turned, and he let fly at me, not out of +calculated bravery, as his face plainly showed, but in a flurry of +despair. The motive behind a shot, however, does not matter. It's the +bullet that counts, and his got me just above the left elbow. I was up in +my stirrups, aiming at the sergeant, who was pulling his horse round to be +at me. I saw splinters fly from a bough to his right. + +I had not looked to the spy. Now a shot rang out down the lane on his +side. It was followed by a piercing shriek, and this by another shot. In +between the shots, the serjeant wheeled round, and raced off down the lane +for dear life, spurring and flogging like a maniac. It was useless to +follow. My rein hand had lost its grip, my arm felt aflame, and blood was +already dripping fast from my helpless fingers. + +Looking down the lane, I saw Weir lying in the road, and a strange +horseman climbing down from his saddle. I rode up to him. + +"How d'ye do?" he said affably. "Sorry I could not get the other chap for +you, but I meant having Turnditch. The dirty rascal has sent his last lad +to the gallows. Faugh! I could spit on his carrion." + +A glance to the road showed that he was right. The spy's blank, yellow +face was turned upwards; his eyes, with the horror of hell still in them, +stared wide-open at the sky. Just above his right eyebrow there was a hole +I could have put my finger in. + +"Damn my silly eyes!" cried the stranger. "You're winged, sir, and badly. +It must be seen to at once." + +He helped me down, took off my coat and waistcoat, and turned up my +shirt-sleeve, doing all this deftly and almost womanly. + +"Hurrah! Missed the bone and gone clear through! Put you right in no +time! Plug down your finger there, sir, while I cut a stick. That's +excellent. You won't mind if I keep you while I reload my barkers? The +safe side, you know!" + +With his handkerchief and my own, and a length of hazel for a tourniquet, +he bound up the wound, and with much skill, for he at once reduced the +flow of blood to a mere trickle. While he was busy over me, I took stock +of him. + +He was a man of about my own age and height, but slimmer and wirier. His +features were rather irregular, but an intelligent, humorous look atoned +for this defect, and his bright grey eyes were the quickest I have ever +seen. Though an utter stranger, there was a puzzling familiarity about +him, and I tried hard to recall which of my acquaintance featured him. His +horse, now cropping at the roadside, was a splendid brown blood mare, the +best horse, barring Sultan, I had seen for many a day. The last thing I +noted was that the man was singularly well dressed. + +"That's patched you up till you can get to a regular doctor. There's a +first-class man at Stockport, opposite the west door of the church, +Bamford by name. You can't miss his place, and he'll pocket his fee like a +wise man ind ask no questions." + +"You've done very well, sir," said I. "The blood has almost ceased to +flow. I'm greatly beholden to you." + +"Say no more!" he cried earnestly. "It's a boon you've conferred on me, +if you only knew it. _Nemo repente turpissimus_, as we say." + +"_Video proboque_, as we also say," I countered, smiling. + +"Oddones! A brother of the lamp!" he cried, laughing shortly, and +suddenly sobering. "I must be on. Sorry to leave you, sir, but I think +you're all right. Take care, however. I was touched myself t'other day, +and the damned hole in my ribs still bleeds if I exert myself too much." + +"You should surely be in bed, if there's a hole in your ribs." + +"In bed!" he sniffed. "I took to bed, egad, and nearly got pinched. Now +I've no need for exertion. In this gap between the Highlanders, I'm as +snug as a flea in a blanket." + +After helping me into my clothes and on to my horse, he strolled up to +the dead man. + +"Well, Turnditch," he said, "you know everything now, or nothing." Then, +dropping lightly on his knee, he turned gaily to me, and said, "Always +plunder the Egyptian, dead or alive." + +He rifled the spy's pockets with the easy indifference of an expert, +singing as he turned them out: + + "The priest calls the lawyer a cheat; + The lawyer beknaves the divine; + And the statesman because he's so great, + Thinks his trade is as honest as mine." + +He stopped his singing and, tossing a well-stuffed leather bag up and +down in his hand, said, "There's really no objection to virtue when the +jade is not her own reward. Chunk! chunk! There's alchemy for you! Half an +ounce of lead into half a pound of gold!" + +He stowed the bag in his pocket, jumped on his mare, and together we +walked our horses to the turnpike, where we halted side by side, our +horses' heads to their respective destinations. + +"Sir," said I, holding out my hand, "I am greatly in your debt. My name +is Oliver Wheatman, of the Hanyards, Staffordshire. May I have the +pleasure of learning yours?" + +He took my hand, looked at me intently, with his grey eyes very +thoughtful and steady, and then said quietly, "Samuel Nixon, Bachelor of +Arts, sometime Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford." + +"Commonly called 'Swift Nicks,'" I added, smiling. + +"Right first time," he cried gleefully, and shot off like an arrow +towards Manchester. + +So Nance Lousely had not got her pinnerfull of guineas after all. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +DONALD + + +I got my wound in the early forenoon of December the 10th. About eight +o'clock on the night of the 17th I sat down in a deserted shepherd's hut +to the meal Donald had got ready for me. The week had been in one respect +a blank, for I had not seen Margaret. In every other respect it had been +laborious, strenuous, and exciting, and we had just seen the end of the +toughest job so far. We, meaning my dragoons and myself, were on the top +of Shap. Some ammunition wagons had broken down on the upward climb, +bunging up the road at its stiffest bit and delaying us for hours. His +lordship and the Colonel, with the infantry of the rear-guard, were in +Shap village a mile or two ahead. The Prince was still farther on, +probably in Penrith. + +The delay was dangerous. Our army had rested one full day at Preston and +another at Lancaster. Even at Preston the Colonel and I, with my dragoons, +had barely ridden out of the town when a strong body of enemy horse rode +in from the east, sent by Wade to reinforce the Duke. Our margin of safety +was being cut down daily. We should have to fight before long, and I was +posted here, on the top of Shap, to see that no surprise was sprung upon +us. + +The shieling, as Donald called it, was about a hundred yards past the +highest point of the road, where a picket was on the watch. Across the +road was a bit of a dip, and here my dragoons were making themselves +comfortable round a roaring fire, fuel for which was provided by the +smashed-up carcass of a derelict wagon. The country was as bare as a +bird's tail, but by a slice of great good luck one of them had shot a +stray sheep on the way up, and the air was thick with the smell of singed +mutton. + +Here I must say of my dragoons that they were men I loved to command. +After twelve days' work of a sort to knock up an elephant they were as +fresh as daisies. Donald they all feared, and as Donald, for my behoof, +made no bones about telling them how the laddie's nief, sma' as it lookit, +'ad dinged 'im, Donald, oot o' his seven senses, they feared me. I think +they even liked me. Anyhow, I never had an ugly look or a glum word from +one of them. Some people express surprise at the splendid Highland +regiments now, thanks to Mr. Pitt's politic genius, serving in our army. +It is no surprise to me who have commanded a body of clansmen for a +fortnight in the back-end of a retreat. + +Donald was a very jewel of a man. He was servant, sergeant, nurse, and +companion, and unbeatable in all capacities. My wound had given me more +trouble than I expected, even though Mr. Bamford had told me that one of +the larger arteries was injured. Once or twice since, as occasion served, +a doctor had dressed it, but it was Donald's incessant care that did most +for it. I still wore my left arm in a sling. + +He had made me a fire of wood and turfs; given me roast mutton, a slice +of cheese sprinkled with oatmeal, and good bread to eat, and a pint of +milk laced with whisky to drink. Refinements which he would have scouted +for himself in any place, he had taken thought to provide for me in these +wilds--a pewter plate and a silver beaker, both stolen. The only +furnishing in the hut was a squat log, almost the size of a butcher's +block, which served as a table. For seat, Donald rigged up half the +tail-board of the wagon across two heaps of turfs. He completed his work +by producing a tallow candle stuck in a dab of clay by way of candlestick. + +Donald had left me to my food and gone over to the camp to get his own. I +made a nourishable meal and then sat down before the fire to smoke and +think. + +I had not seen Margaret since Leek, and had not been alone with her +since, her hand in mine, we had crept out of the gracious presence of the +dead. And I had got into a mood in which I felt that it was well I did not +see her. Some day I should have to do without her altogether, and this was +a chance of learning how to do it. + +Though I had not seen her, I had heard of her. While our army stayed the +day in Lancaster I had been watching the road within sight of the spires +of Preston, wondering why the Duke's horse, after their accession of +strength, did not come after us. The Marquess of Tiverton has since told +me that the Duke had been kept a day at Preston by rumours of a French +landing on the south coast. Being far behind, I had ridden through +Lancaster without drawing rein, but in the main street a stranger--one of +us, however, as his white cockade showed--had stepped up to my saddle and +handed me a letter. It was plainly of a woman's writing, and I burned to +think that it was Margaret's hand that had penned the direction to "Oliver +Wheatman, Esquire, Captain of Dragoons in the army of His Royal Highness +the Prince Regent." I tore it open, and found it was from the Lady +Ogilvie. She would understand and forgive if she could ever know how +disappointed I was. + +It had been written that morning before leaving the town, and bore traces +of hasty composition. It ran as follows:-- + +"SIR,--This is to let ye know, dear Oliver, that I'm sure M. has got a +bee in his bonnet. I'm thinking that some one we know has tell't him she +will hae no trokings with him in the way he wants. I dinna ken for +certain, mark ye, but they were taegither last night, and this morning +he's not hanging round to pit us in ye carriage, as he ordinarily does, +and she is pale and quiet, and says she wishes her father was at hand, and +I like it not, dear Oliver. I call you dear Oliver because y'are such a +guid laddie, just as I'm a guid girl. Davie tell't me how you stood up and +saluted him, and I was glad I'd kissed ye ance upon a time, though it was +only to plague ye. Remember what I tell't ye about these Highland boddys. +M. is like all the rest of 'em, and moreover the Prince made ye his +aide-de-camp, and it was to have been him, tho' he didna mind at the first +because it left him free to be courting his leddy, but noo he'll hae it +rankling in his heart like poison. And keep your eye on that chiel, +Donald. He's foster-brother to M., and wad stick his dirk in the Prince +himself if M. tell't him to. They're not bad boddys, but that's how they +are. She says naething about ye, and that's a guid sign, I'm thinking. I +wish ye knew the French instead of that silly Lattin, for then I cud write +ye a propper letter wi' nice words in it, but she says yell hae to learn +Italian first to suit her, but that's only her daffery. Excuse this +ill-writ note, for the paper is bad and I'm no sure o' my English when +it's guid.--Your obedient servant and loving guid friend, + +"ISHBEL OGILVIE" + +I pulled the dab of mud close to my elbow and read it again. In part it +was plain enough. That Maclachlan was madly in love with Margaret had +become almost a matter of common gossip. My Lord George Murray had hinted +at it more than once, as he had at my displacing the young Chief in the +Prince's favour. Maclachlan was son and heir to a chief of considerable +power and reputation. That he should fall in love with Margaret was +natural, and had she fallen in love with him I should not have been +surprised. Even after the event, I still say that he was a fine, +upstanding man, delightful to look on, and, so far as I knew, worthy of +any woman, even of such a one as Margaret. But the heart is master not +servant, and cannot be commanded. She loved him not and there was an end +of it. + +Next, Lady Ogilvie hinted at danger to me from him. Well, if he wanted a +fight, a fight he should have. There's no Englishman living thinks more of +Scotsmen than I do, but I have never thought enough of the best Scot +breathing to run away from him. As for Donald, unless I was an idiot and +he a better actor than Mr. Garrick, he would far sooner have driven his +dirk into himself than into me. That matter could rest. There would be no +fighting that night, and I never put on my breeches till it's time to get +up. + +Where her ladyship was wrong was in supposing, as clearly she did, that +Margaret's love affairs interested me otherwise than as being Margaret's. +I loved her, loved her dearly, all the more dearly because hopelessly. I +had no qualifications which would enable me to speak my love. At my best +nothing but a poor yeoman, I was now not even that, I was a declared rebel +in a rebellion that had failed. And if I had had every qualification that +rank and wealth could give me, it would still have been the same. Between +her and me was the dead body of my friend and the widowed heart of my +sister. + +I was meditatively refilling my pipe when I heard Donald's voice without, +raised in earnest explanation. + +"An' if I didna think it wass auld Nick comin' for me afore ma reetfu' +time, may I never drink anither drap whisky as lang as I live." + +Some one laughed at the explanation, and Donald, still explaining, pushed +open the door and made way for Margaret, who, before I could rise, was +glowering over me, in the delightful way she had, girlish pretence just +dashed with womanly earnest. + +"I shall never forgive you, nor father, nor Donald, nor anybody else. And +you're not to move, sir!" + +"I'm sorry, madam," said I. + +"You always are. It's your favourite mood. You live on sorrow," she said, +pelting me with the terse, sharp sentences. Then, for I twitched at her +telling me I lived on sorrow, she melted at once, and said, "Oh, Oliver, +I'm so sorry. Why did you not send for me and let me nurse it better? +Surely that was my right as well as my duty." + +There was no contenting her till she had seen and dressed my wound. She +had brought lint and linen with her, some kind of balsam which nearly made +me glad she had not had the daily dressing of my arm, and even a basin and +a huge bottle of clear spring water, which were brought in from the calash +by Bimbo, Lady Ogilvie's little black coachman. The hut looked like a +surgery, and Donald and Bimbo got mixed up in the most laughable way in +dodging about to wait on her. + +"Com' oot of it!" said Donald desperately, unwinding the little black out +of his plaid for the second time. + +"You one big elephant in pekkaloats!" he retorted, grinning bare his big +white teeth. "You tread on Bimbo, Bimbo go squash." + +"How does it feel now?" asked Margaret, when her task was over. + +"I shall be able to clout Donald with it in the morning," I answered. + +"Tat's petter," said he, grinning with delight. "I'm thinkin' I'd suner +be dinged wi' 'er again than see 'er hinging there daein' naethin'." + +He took Bimbo off to the camp-fire and left us alone. We wrangled about +the seating accommodation of the hut, for the cart-tail was but short, and +I wanted her to have it to herself. She flouted the idea, and in the end +we shared it, and I minded its shortness no longer. She would fill my pipe +for me, and held a burning splinter to the bowl while I got it going. Over +her doctoring she had been very pale and quiet. Now she got her colour +back in the light and warmth of the fire, but she quietened down again as +soon as I was smoking in comfort. + +She told me briefly that she had stayed in Shap to see her father. Lady +Ogilvie had insisted on her keeping the calash, so that she could come on +in comfort in the morning. From her father she had learned of my wound, +and had come on at once to see for herself how I was. She would start back +for Shap shortly, where she was to stay the night with her father. + +She told me this and then leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands, +and went quiet again. + +I was glad of her silence, glad that she was hiding her face from me, for +I needed to pull myself together. That something had happened was clear, +and, whatever it was, it had struck home. In some way of deep concernment +there was a new Margaret by my side, but in another way it was the old +familiar Margaret as well, for she was wearing mother's long grey domino. +She had unclasped it so that it now hung loosely on her, and flung back +the hood so that the firelight made lambent flickerings in her hair. + +"I have not seen you for twelve days," she said at last. + +"No, madam." + +"Have you been neglecting me, sir?" Just a touch of vigour was in her +voice, but she still gazed at the fire. + +"You are a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," I said quietly, and +the retort brought her head round with a jerk. + +"And how does that excuse your neglect?" + +"By giving you the chance of ascertaining from your father whether my +military duties have left me any opportunity of neglecting you," I +answered steadily. As usual with me, since I could not woo, I would be +master where I could. It was a source of mean delight to me. + +"More logic," she said briefly, and turned to the fire again. + +Apparently she tested the logic in her mind and came to the conclusion +that it was sound. She got up, threw some wood on the fire, thrusting me +back playfully when I tried to forestall her, and then said merrily, "What +do you think dad said to-night?" + +"It would take hours to guess, I expect, so tell me at once, since I see +it hipped you." + +"It did," she said, with playful emphasis. "I fear I've not trained him +up as fathers should be trained, for he coolly told me that if I had not +had the misfortune to be a girl, I might perhaps have turned out as good a +lad as you." + +"Misfortune!" I echoed almost angrily. + +"The exact word," she replied. + +"Misfortune! To be the most beautiful woman in England, with the world at +your feet--he calls that a misfortune?" + +I spoke energetically as the occasion demanded, being, moreover, glad of +an outlet. Before I had finished, however, she was back in her old +position, with her face hidden from me by her hands. She puzzled me more +than ever, for, after a long silence, she burst out, "Not my world, +Oliver!" + +The phrase shot up like a spout of lava from some deep centre of molten +thought. I pitied and loved her, but I was helpless. To make a diversion I +looked at my watch and luckily it was the time when the picket at the top +should be changed, so I went to the door and opened it. A splendid blare +of piping came in from the camp-fire as I did so, and Margaret tripped to +the door to listen. + +"Who is it?" she asked. + +"Donald," said I. "He's one of the great masters of the pipes. I believe +in the tale of Amphion and the walls of Thebes now, for this afternoon I +saw Donald pipe some broken-down wagons out of the road." + +I went across to see to the change of picket, and when I got back into +the hut I saw that the tension was over. I relit my pipe, sat down again +at her side, and started a rapid series of questions as to what she had +seen and heard during the retreat. Try how I would, nay, try as we would, +we did not get back to our old footing. We were afraid of silences, and +skipped from topic to topic at breakneck speed. We two who had sauntered +together in the sunlight, now stumbled along in a mist. + +At last she said she must be going, and I went out and shouted to Donald +to get Bimbo and the calash ready, and four men as an escort. When I got +back to her, she arose, somewhat wearily, and I put the domino on fully +and fitted the hood round her head. + +"You see I've gone back to the domino, Oliver," she said. + +"It's the very thing for a cold night and a dirty road," I replied +cheerfully, stepping in front of her, a couple of paces off, to take my +last look at her in the light. + +"I have never met a man who understands so much about women as you do," +she said. + +"Thank you, madam," I cried boisterously, and bowed so as to avoid her +eyes. But when I was upright again, they caught mine once more, and +something in them made me tremble. + +"Or so little," she whispered, and she was pitifully white and miserable. + +If it had not been for what I saw between us--there, on the floor of +crazed and trampled mud, I should have flung my arms around her. But I +could not step over _that_. + +"Ta carrish iss ready," cried Donald from the door-sill. + +I packed her snugly in the calash and started two dragoons ahead. Bimbo +clucked to his horse and was off. I walked a hundred yards by the side of +the carriage till it was time to whistle for the other dragoons to start. +Then I made Bimbo pull up. + +The young moon was battling with great stacks of clouds, but just at that +moment won a brief victory, and gave me a clear view of Margaret. She put +out her hand, which she had not yet gloved, and I took it in mine, bowed +my head over it, and kissed it. + +"Good night, Oliver," she whispered. + +"Good night, Margaret," I replied, and whistled shrilly to hide my +emotions. Something sent her away with her eyes ashine and her face +glorious with a smile. + +The dragoons clattered by, and I stood for a few minutes staring +downhill. _And so little. Not my world. And so little. Not my world_. +The words rang in my ears like a peal of bells. Then, by one of the odd +tricks the mind plays us, I remembered that I had left the Hanyards for +the work's sake, and that my love for Margaret could only be justified to +myself--the only one who could ever know it--by my work. Over the black +top there, down in the blacker valley, was the enemy, her enemy, nibbling +up the space between us as a rabbit nibbles up a lettuce leaf. I closed my +mind to the maddening chime, and started forthright to visit my picket. + +The road was flush with the bare windswept summit. The crumpled ground +was matted with coarse grass, almost too poor for sheep-feed. The +camp-fire still blazed; near it a bagpipe crooned; now and again a horse +shook in its harness. The moon whipped out for a moment, and then it was +pitch dark again. + +As I stepped it out there was a rush at me from the grass, behind and to +my left. Down I dropped full length, and a man shot over me and sprawled +in the road, but he was quick and lithe as a cat, and was up before me, +for my slung arm disadvantaged me. I could just see his sword poised for a +cut as he fairly pounced on me. I dived outward as he jumped, and he +missed me, but before I could get behind him he was round and at me again +like a fury. I was weaponless and crippled, but if I could once get past +his sword, it would be all over with him. The pace was so hot, and my mind +was so bent on the work, that I did not call for aid. At last I tricked +him, for in jumping aside I flung my hat hard in his face, and in a flash +had my right hand at his throat. He jabbed at me with his left, and I +twisted round to his right side, pressing his sword-arm against his body, +and digging my fingers into his windpipe. I heard his sword drop, and felt +him feeling for a pistol. He was as hard as a nail, and I began to dream +that he would get me before I had choked him. + +Donald ended the matter. He, doglike in his fidelity, came striding down +the road after me. The moon outpaced the clouds again. He saw us at our +death-grips, and came on with a rush and a yell. He drove his dirk into +the nape of the man's neck and twisted the blade in its ghastly socket. A +sharp, sickening click--and the man dropped out of my fingers like a +stone. The moon went in again, and hid the evil thing from us. + +"Pe she hurtit?" asked Donald anxiously. + +"Not a scratch!" I replied. + +"Tat's goot! Carry 'er up to the fire," he added to three or four men who +had run up on hearing his yell. "She's English and, maybe, she sall hae +fine pickins on 'er." + +He stooped down, careless of a dead man as of a dead buck, and stropped +his dirk clean and dry on the man's breeches. Then the men, equally +indifferent, picked up the body and started off. + +"D'ye ken wha the chiel is?" asked Donald, as we walked after them. + +"A certain sergeant of dragoons, or one of his men," I answered. + +"He winna fash ye ony more," said he. "Tat's a fine way of mine, when I +can get behint a mon. I've killt mony a stot like it, shoost t' keep in +the way of it." And he stabbed the air, twisted his wrist, and clicked +delightedly. + +The men dumped the body near the fire. One of them stooped down and was +for putting his hand in the man's pocket, but drew it back as if he had +thrust it by mischance into the flames. + +Then I knew. + +I have heard a mare squeal in a burning stable, but I have never heard +agony in sound as I heard it there, on the top of Shap, when Donald flung +himself across the dead body of his chief and foster-brother. + +There is one tender memory of this distressing scene. Neither by look, +word, nor tone did Donald attach blame or responsibility to me. He +recovered himself in a few minutes, and then stood up, and gave a brief +command in Gaelic. Four awe-struck men spread a plaid on the ground, +placed the dead body on it, and carried it into the hut. Donald, gravely +silent, took the pipes from the man who had been playing, and followed +them. I bared my head and went after him miserably. + +Maclachlan's body lay on the floor of the hut. The eyes were wide open, +but on his fine composed face there was no trace of the agony and passion +in which he had gone before his God. It was as if, in that last terrible +second, some vision of beauty had swept his soul clean. I knelt down and +reverently closed the staring eyes. + +"Donald," said I, when I arose, "I would to God that you had killed me +instead." + +"It's weird," said he solemnly, "and weird mun hae way." + +I looked at him closely. That he was struck to the heart was plain to +see, but, the first uprush of grief over, he had become sober, steadfast, +almost business-like, as if he had something great in hand to do, and +would be doing it. + +He took the candle, now only the length of my ring-finger, and stuck it +on the narrow window-ledge. Again he spoke to the men in Gaelic, and they +moved out of the hut. Turning to me, he said, "Com in when ta licht gaes +oot!" + +He had the right to be alone with his dead. I wrung his hand and left +him. When I looked back from the doorway, he was filling his bag with +wind, but stopped to say, "Weird mun hae way." And as he said it he smiled. + +I crossed the road to the edge of the dip. More wood had been piled on +the fire, which now blazed cheerfully. Most of the men lay asleep in their +plaids, but a few stood guard over the horses, and the men who had carried +the body into the hut were squatting on the grass by the roadside. I took +my stand near them, and looked and listened. + +The terrible similarity of Donald's case to mine appalled me. Each of us, +in saving another, had struck down in the darkness a man near and dear to +him. Two good men and true had gone when the lust of life is sweetest and +the will to live strongest. I, who three weeks ago had never seen human +life taken, had taken it, and seen it taken, as if men were of no more +account than cattle. Between the house-place of the Hanyards and the top +of Shap, Death had become my familiar. + +For Maclachlan I had nothing but pity. He had thought that I stood +between him and Margaret. Clearly he had learned of her coming back to me, +and the thought had maddened him. He had disguised himself as an +Englishman and come after me, and this was the end of it. + +These were my thoughts as I watched the flickering flame dropping nearer +and nearer to the window-ledge, and listened to the pipes. Donald was +inspired. He and the pipes were one. In his hands they became a living +thing. What he felt, they felt. They wept as he wept, they gloried as he +gloried, they triumphed as he triumphed. + +He began with a murmur of grief that grew into a wail, became a +passionate tempest, and died into a prolonged sob. Then he changed his +note as memory wandered backward. The music became tenderly reminiscent, +subduedly cheerful. They were again boys together at their play, youthful +hunters swinging over the mountains after the red deer; young men with the +maidens; warriors on their first foray. The threads of life ran in and out +through the pattern of sounds he was weaving, and the older days of +fighting and victories followed as I listened. There was hurrying, +marching, charging; the groan of defeat; the mad slogan of final victory. + +"He's fechtin' the Macleans noo," cried out one of the men, who had some +English, and the others chattered vigorously for a minute in their own +Gaelic. + +The candle was now guttering on the window-ledge. These glories over, +Donald came hard up against the end of them all--the Chief dead at his +feet, slain by his own hand. For a time he faltered, playing only in +little, melancholy snatches. Then he got surer, and the music began to +come in blasts. He was seeing his way, learning what it all meant to him +and the Maclachlans. Weird mun hae way. Destiny must work itself out. We +children of a day are helpless before it. + +The flame fell to a golden bead as the music grew in strength and +purpose. There was a burst of light, a peal of triumph, and the music and +the flame went out together. + +Across the road I raced, threw open the door, and rushed in. Everything +was dark and still. + +"Donald!" I called passionately. + +There was no reply. I crept on tip-toe to the fire and kicked the embers +into a flame. + +Donald was lying dead across the dead body of his Chief, his dirk buried +to the hilt in his own heart. + + * * * * * + +At daybreak we buried them side by side in one grave on the top of Shap, +their feet pointing northward to their own mountains. When the last clod +had been replaced, and a great boulder reverently carried up to mark the +spot, I turned, covered my head, and prepared to go, but the men stood on. +I looked back. They were loath to go. Something that should be done, had +been left undone. + +I divined what they had in mind, turned back, bared my head as they +uncovered, and repeated the Lord's Prayer aloud. + +I am thankful to this day to those men whom fools and bigots call +savages. They taught me to pray again. + +"Man Captain," said the one who had English, as we walked away in a body, +"ye wad mak' a gran' meenister." + +I could not withhold a smile, but before I could reply there was a +scattered rattle of shots from the dip. Looking around, I saw a body of +enemy horse on the lower hill across the valley to my left. + +We were overtaken. We should have to fight. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT + + +On the tenth day of my captivity, hope glimmered for the first time. When +a man has been penned up in a dull room for ten days, with +half-a-hundred-weight of rusty iron shackling his wrists and ankles, with +poor food, and little of it at that, to eat, he can extract comfort out of +a trifle. + +In my case the trifle was a smile, her first smile in ten days. So far +she had been as sulky as she was shapeless, bringing me my poor meals +either without saying a word or, at best, snapping me up and saying that I +got far better treatment than a rebel deserved. + +She never told me her name, and I never learned it from any other source, +so 'she' she must remain for me and my tale. She was perhaps thirty, +perhaps five feet high, the shape of a black pudding, with stony, rather +than ugly, features, and cruel, cat-like eyes. I hated her handsomely till +she smiled at me. + +She was, I suppose, my jailer's daughter, or servant, or something of the +sort. I never knew, and my ignorance does not matter. She brought me my +food, spake or spake not, according to the degree of vileness in her +prevailing humour, and went off, leaving me to my thoughts and my painful +shamblings round my prison-chamber. + +My ignorance was limitless. I was a prisoner, and my prison was a room in +a sizable farm-house with thick stone walls. Where the house was I had no +idea other than that it could not be far from the place where I was taken, +which, again, could not be far from the town of Penrith. There was one +window in my cell, the sill of which was as high from the ground as my +chin when standing upright. But I never stood upright, being jammed into a +cross made of good, solid iron, foul with rust, and having bracelets at +the tips for my ankles and wrists. It kept me a foot short of my full +stretch. I could get my eye to the edge of the window and no farther, and +then I saw much sky and a little desolate moorland running up into a +gauntly-wooded hill country. + +I spent my waking hours thinking of Margaret and the others dreaming of +her. Now was my chance to learn to do without her altogether. It would not +be for long. I was in the Duke's clutches, and he would not let me go till +my head rolled off my shoulders. Had I been free and with her, we should +have been farther apart than before--by the width of Donald's grave. But +here, parted for ever, with the block or the gallows just ahead of me, +there was no bar to my lonely love. Time and time again she was so near to +me, so vividly present to my imagination, that I stretched out my arms to +grasp her. The shackles clanked, and I cursed myself for a fool, but I +never cured myself of the habit. + +Because this is the dreariest time of my life, I have plumped right into +the middle of it to get it over. And, indeed, there is little worth the +telling between the top of Shap and her smile. I was in jail because I was +no soldier. That, apparently, should go without saying, and if I had come +to grief over some piece of important soldier-craft, no one would have +been surprised and I should not have been to blame. It galls me, however, +to have to confess that I was very properly caught, jailed, and ironed for +not knowing what a dragoon was. A man ought to know that after being +captain of a troop of the best for a fortnight, but I didn't. Being all +for logic, the least useful thing in life, I had arrived at the conclusion +that a soldier on horseback is a horse-soldier. So he is, except when he's +a dragoon, as I found to my cost. If the bold Turnus or Mr. +Pink-of-Propriety Aeneas had hit upon the dragoon idea, I should have +known all about it, because it would have been in Virgil. Even the Master +has his deficiencies. + +My Lord George Murray elected to fight at Clifton, a defendable place +between Shap and Penrith. Just south of the bridge the road ran off the +moor into the outskirts of the village, with a stone wall on one side and +a high edge on the other. The enclosures on either side were packed with +clansmen, and our wings stretched beyond on to the moor, here dissected +into poor fields by straggling hedges. + +The Colonel, the happiest man in England that day, had posted me across +the road, right out on the moor, ready to gallop back at once with news of +the enemy's approach. It was now quite dark, except when the moon rode +free of the dense blotches of clouds that filled the sky. In one such +glimpse of light, I caught sight of several bodies of horse on the moor to +the east of the road. The regiment nearest to me wheeled to the left, and +trotted obliquely across the road. Its direction made its purpose clear. +It was feeling its way across our front to our flank on the west of the +village. I rode back at once to report. + +"Good lad!" said the Colonel, offering me his snuff-box. "It's just what +we want 'em to do. Go where there's a bellyful for you! Fine soldiering +that! The fool duke ought to pound us out into the open with his guns. +Hope you'll enjoy your first fight, Oliver! It's a glorious game. Pity of +it is the counters are so costly. Good luck, my dear lad!" + +I went back to my men whom I had left in the covered way between the wall +and the hedge. It being clear that the exact whereabouts of the regiment I +had particularly observed was of great consequence, I rode out again with +a couple of men, at the request of one of the chiefs, to see if I could +make out what was happening. There was no trace of it. It should by now +have been visible on my right, the moon being out again, but there was not +a single trace of it. I could see the line of one hedge and beyond that +another. The other regiments had not advanced and this one had disappeared. + +Perplexed, I halted my men, pulled the sorrel's head round and cantered +slowly towards the nearer hedge. Then I learned that dragoons are +horse-soldiers who fight on foot, behind hedges for choice. Half a dozen +carbines rang out, the sorrel rolled over, and though I escaped the +bullets and jumped clear of my horse, I was pounced on by a body of men +and pulled ignobly through the hedge. I did everything doable, but they +swarmed over me like ants, bore me down by weight of numbers, and sat on +me. + +"It's him right enough," I heard one of them say. "Fetch the sergeant! +There's a bit of fat in this, lads!" + +A minute later, I was hauled on to my feet. A seared face, with a +dab-of-putty nose on it, leered delightedly into mine. + +"Got you, by G--!" he said. + +I had been captured by Brocton's dragoons. Now we should come to points. + +Without another word to me, and after a savage injunction to the men to +see I did not escape on peril of their lives, he went off and fetched his +lordship. They came running back together as if the greatest event +imaginable had happened. + +"Ha! Master Wheatman," cried my lord very happily, "this is indeed a +sight for sore eyes." + +"To be sure," said I, "your lordship's were pretty bad the last time I +saw them." + +He made no retort, being indeed too excited to notice pin-pricks, but +ordered the sergeant to take me to the rear under a strong guard. "Make +sure of him!" he cried, and added in a lower tone, as I moved off under +the combined pull and push of my captors, "Make sure of it." He then went +off to his own place in the line. + +The sergeant did not come with us, and I had been tugged nearly to the +second hedge before he overtook us. To my astonishment he was carrying my +saddle on his head, where, in the dim light, it looked like a gigantic +bonnet. He swore at the men for loitering, and on we went to the second +hedge. We struck it at a point where there was neither gate nor gap, but +the dragoons bashed it down with their carbines and trampled it down with +their boots, and so made a way. + +Two of the men were through, and I was being hauled through, when there +was a spattering of shots from behind. Over the noise a stentorian voice +called out "Claymores!" It was the Highland warcry, and, with +reverberating yells, the clansmen poured out of the nearer enclosure to +attack the dragoons lining the hedge. + +The sergeant drew his sword, and, as we raced on again, struck viciously +with the flat of it at his men to make them run faster. A queer figure he +cut in the moonlight as he raced along, swearing and slashing, with the +skirts of the saddle flapping against his lean ribs. At last we got out on +a poor road lined with trees and turned south along it. There was urgent +need for him to haste now, for Brocton's dragoons had been cut out of +their cover and were being pushed back to the hedge we had just left. The +sergeant halted a moment to take stock of the situation, and then we +hurried on again. Every time he struck a man for lazy running, the man in +his turn paid me with punch or kick. After a mile or so, the avenue made +an abrupt turn to the east and brought us out on the main road in the rear +of the Duke's army. + +The moon showed us a little cottage, standing off from the road in a poor +plot of ground. The sergeant led the way up to it, turned the cottager and +his family out of it into a shed, and set two men without as sentries. He +then made the others strip me to the skin and examined every shred of +clothing, ripping out the linings and even cutting my boots to pieces. +Finding nothing, he flung me the rags to put on again, and then cut the +saddle to pieces and searched that. I knew now why William had so nearly +lost his vail and Donald had been obliged to steal me another saddle. The +sergeant wanted, the letter and papers I had taken from him at the "Ring +of Bells." He was so keen that he omitted to pouch any of my belongings, +and I retained my money, Donald's watch, and the priceless strip of +bloodstained linen. My tuck and pistols were naturally taken from me on my +capture. + +"Any luck?" I asked quizzingly, when he at last gave over the search. + +Too furious or too cautious to reply, he brutally kicked a dragoon whom +he caught smiling. + +After a miserable drag of some two hours, a fresh dragoon came with a +message, whereon the sergeant conducted me to the presence of the Duke, +who was quartered in a large house in the village. The Lord Brocton, the +Lord Mark Kerr, and other officers were with him, and also several ladies +who would have been more at home in Vauxhall. For a minute or two I was +unheeded, and the sergeant could hardly keep himself sufficiently stiff +and awkward. His Grace was in the sourest of humours for, as the talk +showed, he had been beaten. The claymores had taken the conceit out of him +finely. He finished the subject with a string of oaths and then made an +unprintable inquiry of Brocton concerning me. The ladies tittered +profusely, and the most powdery one vowed that His Grace was a great wag. +In further proof of this he snatched a feather near a yard long out of her +pompom, and fanned himself with it while he examined me. + +This ducal waggishness gave me time to observe that the sergeant's +uneasiness was icy coldness in comparison with his lordship's. He was +uncertain of speech; his face was the colour of pea-soup; he looked +anxiously, almost affrightedly, at me. He grew plainly more comfortable as +the Duke failed to get any information out of me beyond the fact that the +weather was cold. Finally, when the sergeant was ordered to keep me at his +peril till such time as I could be lodged in Carlisle jail, Brocton +greedily tossed off a bumper of wine and laughed aloud at some vulgar +sally from a lady in a green paduasoy. On leaving I bowed to the Duke. He +was a vigorous, able man with the manners and morals of a bull. + +Brocton followed the sergeant out. There was a consultation between them +of which I heard nothing, but the result was that the sergeant picked up a +man as guide who was waiting at the front door, obviously for the purpose, +and took me through and beyond the village to a house on the roadside. The +place was of fair size, built of rough slabs of stone, and evidently a +farm-house. The owner was a lumpish, ungainly fellow, astonishingly +bow-legged. He had a little yapping dog, which jumped backwards and +forwards between his knees like a trick-dog through a hoop. + +Preparations had been made for my coming, "by his lordship," as the +farmer blabbed out. I was taken upstairs to a back room, ironed, in the +way I have described, by the parish constable, who had been prayed in aid +for the job, and locked in in the dark. I heard a sentry posted without +the door and another beneath the window. It was some consolation, and I +needed all I could get, to know I was so prized. There was a rough bed in +the room. I tumbled on it, wondered for a few minutes what Margaret would +be thinking of it all, and then went to sleep. + +Next morning I made her acquaintance to this extent that she brought me a +jug of thin ale, a lump of horse-bread and a slab of cheese. Her looks +froze my affability, but she does not become important till she smiled, +and I need say no more about her at present. + +I saw no other person till nightfall of the third day, when the door +opened and the little dog hopped through his accustomed gap into the room, +and was followed by his master carrying a lighted tallow candle in a rusty +iron candlestick. This imported something unusual, as I was not allowed a +light, and it turned out to be a visit from my Lord Brocton. He ordered +the sentry to follow the farmer downstairs, and examined the door +carefully to see if it was closed thoroughly. I sat on the edge of the bed +and hummed a brisk air with a fine pretence of indifference. + +He sat down on the one chair there was, placed his hat on the table, and +said, "I am sorry to see you in this place and condition, Mr. Wheatman." + +"Thank you," said I. + +"Of course you know there's only one end of it." + +"Yes," I replied, and hummed a stave of "Lillibullero." + +He leaned forward and said impressively, "The gibbet, Mr. Wheatman!" + + +"Draughty places!" said I, smiling, as I thought of Nance Lousely. "I can +feel the wind whistling through my bones." + +"You are pleased to be facetious, sir. It does credit, I must say, to +your nerves." + +"You are pleased to be sympathetic, my lord," I riposted, "whereby you do +no credit to my common sense." + +He took short breaths and then reflected a minute or two, during which I +clinked a soft tattoo with my iron wristlets, and eyed him joyously. He +was there--a free lordling, I was here--a chained rebel, but I had him set. + +"I have a proposal to make to you, Mr. Wheatman," he said at length. + +"I am indeed honoured, but be careful, my lord! It's not in the least +likely, I fear, to be a proposal which you would like the sentry beneath +the window to overhear." + +"You are plain and blunt," he said, leaning forward and speaking in a low +tone, "and I will be the same. Return me all the papers you took from my +sergeant at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I will see that you escape and get +clear of the country." + +"The different personal ends for which you are anxious to turn traitor +seem innumerable, my lord!" + +He met the taunt as if it had been a flip with a straw, and only said, +"Is it a bargain?" + +"It is not," I replied emphatically. + +If his life rather than his lands had depended on the recovery of the +letter he could not have been more eager. For a long time he pleaded and +wrestled with me; arguing, bullying, imploring, threatening, turn and turn +about, but to no result. I would not go back on my casual word to Master +Freake. The letter was important to him, and he would save Margaret and +the Colonel, and me too, when the inevitable hour of need should come at +last. Money was power, and lands were more than money. Acres meant votes, +and with votes at your command you had ministers at your beck. I was sure +of Master Freake. Why bother about my lord Brocton? + +At last he played his last card. "You shall have the Upper Hanyards back +again, Master Wheatman," he quavered. + +The rascal earl, his father, had juggled more than a thousand acres of +the Hanyards away from my father by some musty process of law and a venal +bench. The reference angered me, and I cried loudly, "You shall not have +it back at any price!" + +He looked at the window, and paled as he thought of the sentinel ears +without. Then he went off, vomiting curses. + +That day week, she brought me a shepherd's pie for dinner, very well made +too, and a mug of ale not wholly unworthy of the name. She put them down, +looked at me in a measure womanly, and smiled. It was a root of promise +and fruit would follow. Any change would be welcome. I was ragged, dirty, +galled, cramped, and bearded with a red stubble. She called me 'Carrots' +in derision. + +I was right. At evening she brought me up a dish of tea, and when I +lifted it off the table to take a drink of it, there was beneath it a +paper folded letter-fashion. + +I steadied myself, drank my tea with only moderate haste, and then +cautiously palmed my treasure and walked to the window. Standing with my +back to the door, so that the sentry, who was given to popping his head in +to have a look at me, could not catch me unawares, I opened the paper. It +was a letter. It was written by a woman. The woman was Margaret. + +"You will be taken to-morrow to Carlisle. On the way friends will rescue +you and bring you to me. Fear nothing, say nothing, and all will be well. +Till to-morrow, dear Oliver. Destroy this. MARG. W." + +It went hard against the grain to destroy this precious missive. I hid in +the corner, and kissed it ravenously a hundred times. How straight and +true the pen had ploughed its way across the paper! It was just such +writing as I had expected of her, the resolute escription of her sweet, +resolute self. Nor was the problem of destroying it easy to solve, since I +had no fire, and there was no sure hiding-place accessible to my manacled +hands. I mastered the difficulty heroically by eating the letter with my +bread and butter. + +It was even harder to pretend to be dull and sluggish with such a whirl +of happy thoughts in my mind. I was her "dear Oliver," dear enough to make +her risk her own life in saving mine. That she would plan wisely and +execute swiftly, there was no shadow of doubt. This time tomorrow we +should be together again. + +The night dragged through at last, and the first glimmer of dawn found me +alert and hopeful. She brought my usual breakfast at the usual time, and +smiled again, but put her finger on her lips to warn me to be silent and +careful. + +She went downstairs, and left to myself again, I grew furious to think +that Margaret would see me so, a regular wild man of the woods--_quantum +mutatus ab illo Hectare_. But my ravings ceased at the sound of +preparations without. My room was at the back of the house, but I heard +the noise of wheels, and hoof-beats, and the harsh swearing of the +sergeant. By and by he came noisily upstairs, burst into my room, and +curtly ordered me downstairs. + +Blithely I followed him. Try how I would I could not hide my joy, and, +seeing that he noted it, I said in explanation, "Anything for a change, +sergeant!" + +"You'll wish yourself back here soon enough, blast ye!" he growled. +"We'll stretch your neck for you till your eyes drop out, you swine!" + +"You dear, good, Christian soul!" I simpered. + +For answer, he kicked me savagely, and then bundled me downstairs, out of +the house, and into the road. Here a two-horsed coach was in waiting, with +two dragoons and a corporal in front and two more behind. One of the rear +men was holding a horse, and to my annoyance the sergeant got into the +coach after me, bawled out a command, and off our party started. + +I stumbled into a corner and sat huddled up, straining my eyes ahead to +catch what was to come. Margaret's information was clearly correct. We +took the road north, passed through Penrith without a halt, and out again, +still on the turnpike, proof that Carlisle was to be our destination. The +city was obviously now in the Duke's power. + +Mile after mile we covered apace, and at every curve and cross-road I +peered ahead and around with my heart in my mouth. One point in my favour +was the desolate nature of the country, exactly fitted for such a +stratagem as was in hand. On the right the gloomy sky was blotted out by +jagged masses of gloomier hills. On the left the country varied between +flat and upland, but was hardly less uninviting. + +"Where d'ye think y're going?" asked the sergeant, joggling me with his +spurred heel to make me look at him. + +"No idea," said I. + +"Blast ye. I wish y'had," he growled viciously, and I turned away to smile. + +We passed through a village littered with the Duke's baggage wagons and +pretty full of soldiery. This chilled my spirit somewhat, for it looked as +if we were about to run into the rear of the Royal army. Outside the +village, however, we again had the road to ourselves, and a mile farther +on dropped to a walk to climb a long slant of road. + +Whenever the road curved my way I had seen the corporal and his two men +riding from fifty to a hundred yards ahead of us. Not very far up the +slope we came on a farmstead lying flush on the roadside. In the yard were +some thirty head of shaggy black cattle, of the northern kind seldom seen +in our parts and therefore attractive to a farmer's eye. A farm-hand +leaning over the gate had some noisy gossip with the dragoons as they +passed, and bawled his news to a group of men sitting at meat under a +hovel. It was a poor enough place to support so many men, for the +farm-wife, who came to her kitchen door to see what the clatter was about, +was of no better seeming than a yokel's wife with us. My eyes were on her +curiously when the man on the gate skipped off and flung it open right +across the muzzles of our horses. + +In the tick of a clock the whole scene changed. The men under the hovel +rushed out, fell on the cattle, thrashed them mercilessly with great +battoons, yelled at them like maniacs, and drove them in a shoving, +bellowing, maddened mass into the road, which here had a stone wall on the +side opposite the farm. When the torrent was fairly going, two of the +supposed yokels snatched up carbines, climbed on to the hovel, and opened +fire on the dragoons in our rear. + +The master hand of the Colonel was in this beyond a doubt. With a loud +curse, the sergeant, who was on the side away from the farm, opened the +door and was for leaping out. He bethought himself and half turned, one +hand on the door and one foot on the step, to look an evil inquiry at me. +That half-turn was his undoing. Part of the living, struggling torrent of +cattle was shoved round our way and came sweeping by. One beast brushed +the door open even as he glared at me and tumbled him outwards. As he +twisted in his fall another drove her sharp horns clean into him, and +shook and twirled him off again like a terrier playing with a rat. The +rearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off the +scene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging after +them. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked to +perfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied and +happy. + +My rescuers took no notice of me but ran down the road in a body and +stood round the sergeant. After some excited talk they carried him back, +called on me to aid, and rammed him into the coach, where he lay huddled +on the seat in front of me. Without so much as a word to me, the commander +pulled our driver off the box, ordered a man up in his place, climbed +after him, and said briefly, "Go like the devil!" + +The carriage turned up a rough lane which ran eastward out of the high +road opposite the farm, leaving most of my rescuers standing uncertain in +a group. The driver cut his horses savagely with his whip, and we went at +a hard gallop. The jolting tumbled me about in the coach, and I had hard +work, shackled as I was, to keep the sergeant on the seat. He was still +alive, though so hideously injured that death could only be a question of +minutes. Where we were going and why they were carrying him along with us, +were questions it was useless to bother about. Margaret would explain +everything when we met. I could make little of the men who had rescued me. +They were clearly not farm-hands, for they were well armed, the guns I had +seen looked to me to be military carbines, and they had carried through +their business briskly and intelligently. + +I heard the men on the box talking, but their speech was only about the +road and the speed. The country got rougher and wilder; the distant hills +were losing their clear-cut, rolling outlines, and becoming neighbours and +obstacles. The horses were thrashed unmercifully, but at times even the +well-plied whip could get no more than a crawl out of them. + +The sergeant's end was at hand. He rallied, as men commonly do before +they put foot in the black river, and looked at me unrecognizingly. He +closed his eyes again, and began to writhe and mutter strange words. +Suddenly he cried plainly, "Curse the swine! Another wedge, ye damned +chicken-heart!" He looked at me again, and this time made out who I was, +and cursed loathsomely in his disappointment. + +"D'ye know where y're going?" he ended, leering wickedly. + +"No," said I. + +"Blast ye! I wish ye did!" He gurgled this almost jocosely, as if it were +a pet bit of humour. + +"Do you know where you are going?" I asked solemnly. + +"To hell," he cried, and, after a spout of blood that spattered me as I +leaned over him, went. + +The carriage stopped and, before I could rise to see why, the door was +opened and some one without said politely, "This is indeed a pleasure, +Master Wheatman!" + +It was my lord Brocton. + + * * * * * + +It would be foolish to pretend that I was not bitten to the bone, and I +can only hope that I did not give outward expression to a tithe of the +chagrin and dismay that possessed me. Being commanded to do so, I got out +of the coach without a word and looked around. + +The rough road along which we had been travelling ran on through a slit +in the hills. Where we stood a bridle-path parted from it at a sharp angle +and made its way over the lower skirts of the hill country. It was a +desolate, dreary spot where, as I suspected, the king's writ ran not and +where, therefore, a man might be done to death with all conveniency. +Master Freake would be useless to me now, and my chiefest enemy had me at +his will. + +There was no delay. A long cloak was put over me, so disposed as to hide +my fetters, and I was lifted on a spare horse led by one of the +new-comers. The skill with which the affair had been planned was shown by +the fact that this horse, to accommodate my shackled legs, had been +saddled as for a lady. + +"You know exactly what to do?" asked his lordship of the men on the coach. + +"Yes, my lord," said one of them, "but what about--" He finished the +sentence by a jerk of his thumb towards the dead sergeant. + +"Leave him there! Egad, Master Wheatman, is not that a touch of the real +artist?" + +"The key of these things is in his breeches' pocket," said I, speaking +for the first time, and waggling my fetters as I did so. + +"Get it out, Tomlins!" + +The man who had asked the question climbed down and obeyed the order with +the callousness of a dog nosing a dead rabbit. Then our parties separated. +The coach continued along the main road, if so it may be called, and we +took to the track. I looked curiously after the coach, wondering where it +was bound, and with what object. + +"More art," said his lordship. "A coach is a seeable, trackable thing, +and it will throw everybody off the scent. I'm glad the ruffian's dead. He +was overmuch wise in my affairs." + +As we rode on into the interminable wastes, he rallied me gleefully, but +soon tired of my moroseness. + +"His arrival will make an affecting picture," he said mockingly to his +men. He was feverishly excited, and must boast to some one. "No pliant +damsel to rush into his longing arms! He is to be embraced though, my +masters, if need be." + +What this obscure threat might portend, I could not see, but it chimed in +with the delirious cruelty of the dead sergeant. Threats for the future +mattered not, the present being so unendurable. A man in Brocton's +position must be hard put to it to turn traitor in this strange fashion. +He had "rescued" me with his own men, and, lord or no lord, he would hang +for it were it once known to a lover of the gibbet like the Duke's Grace +of Cumberland. What on earth was the letter about? Master Freake had +definitely said lands, and therefore lands it must be, though nothing less +than the whole Ridgeley estates could be in question. The thousand and +more acres of the Upper Hanyards, sweet meadows stretching a mile along +the river and a snatch of the chase at its wildest and loveliest, the +prize that had fallen to the rascal earl in the great lawsuit, had been +promised me as readily as a pinch of snuff. I gloated over the revenge I +was winning for my race, a race rooted in those darling Hanyards a century +before the Ridgeleys were heard of, for the first earl, the grandfather of +the old rogue, started as an obscure pimp to Charles the Second, and was +enriched and ennobled for his assiduity. + +But no familiary pride could cheer me for long. The dead landscape around +chilled me. The chiefest misery was to remember the hope with which I had +started that morning. Margaret was the fancied end of my journey, and the +real end was this! I had to bite my lips till I felt the trickle of blood +in the stubble on my chin to keep back unmanly revilings. + +At last we came out on what was by comparison a made road, and now his +lordship grew plainly anxious and haggard. We rode madly along it, so +that, riding shackled and woman-fashion, I had hard work to keep my seat. +Brocton's head was incessantly on the turn to see if we were observed, but +his luck was absolute. We saw no one on the road, and, after a hard +stretch, we turned up a gully to our left and were once more buried among +the hills. + +After much turning and twisting we came in sight of a small house of grey +stone which, from its appearance and situation, I judged to be some +gentleman's shooting lodge. We cut across the valley, on one slope of +which it stood, and I caught a glimpse of cottage roofs beyond it. We +worked round to the rear of the house, and, in a favouring clump of trees, +his lordship called a halt. The horses were tethered, and I was lifted +down, and the rings round my ankles were unlocked. The men took one each, +and carried their carbines in their free hands. Brocton drew his rapier, +and said, "Forward! Make a sound, show the slightest sign of resistance, +and I run you through." + +There was no sense in disobeying, and I accommodated myself to his +design, which was clearly to get into the house unobserved from without. +In this he was successful, or at any rate I saw no one during our crawl +from one point of vantage to another up to the back entrance. Now his +lordship skipped gaily from behind me and opened the door. He stepped +softly in, and I was pushed after him by his dragoons. + +"'Friends will rescue you and bring you to me,'" he quoted, jeering me. +"There's no Margaret for you, Farmer Wheatman. I shall have her yet!" +Then, beast as he was, while the men kept me back, nearly tearing my arms +out of their sockets, he stuck the point of his rapier over my heart and +babbled half-delirious beastliness. + +We were in a big, bare kitchen, the other door of which was closed. There +was no sign of anyone about, and Brocton, still with his sword ready for +me, bawled out, "Where are you, you old hag?" + +The door opened at once. Brocton dropped his sword in his fright and I +clapped my foot on it. The two men fled like rabbits. Familiar as the +picture is to my mind, it is hard to find words to fit this crowning +moment of my adventures. + +Margaret walked into the room. + +For a second she was minded to rush at me, but thought better of it, and +walked up to his lordship. She towered over his limp, cringing figure, and +said coldly, "You are too poor a cur to be struck by a woman or I would +strike you." + +She was not alone. Master Freake was now wringing my shackled hands +delightedly, and a little, deft man, whom I knew on sight to be Dot +Gibson, was searching his unresisting lordship's pockets for the key of +the irons. A minute later he banged them on the floor and said, "And how +do you find yourself, sir?" + +There's no more to be said about Brocton. He was as good as dead for the +remainder of the business, and no one heeded him any more than if he had +been a loathsome insect that a man's foot had trodden on. And what killed +him was the presence of a third man, a perfect stranger to me. He was an +old-looking rather than an old man, with rheumy eyes that looked through +narrow slits, and a big unshapely nose; the skin of his face was brown and +crinkled like a dried-up bladder; his whole appearance as a man was mean +and paltry. What distinction he had was given him by gorgeous clothing and +the attendance of a pompous ass in a flaming livery. Yet Brocton dared not +look at him again, as he shuffled forward on his man's arm to speak to +Master Freake. + +"Mr. Freake," he piped, laying an imploring hand on the merchant's arm, +"you will not be too hard on my foolish son?" + +It was the old rascal Earl of Ridgeley. I had not seen him since the +trial, when I was but a lad. In the meantime vice had eaten out of him +such manliness as had ever been in him. Rascaldom was still stamped on +him, but he was now in a state of abject terror. He and his son were +indeed, as Jane puts it to this day, two to a pair. + +"Your lordships will be pleased to wait on me in the room yonder," said +Master Freake, in his grave, decisive way, "and I will tell you my will on +the matter." + +He bowed ironically towards the door. Their unlordly lordships went off +together, and he followed and closed the door behind him. Dot sensibly +hustled off the lackey, and so we were alone together. + +As ever, I had my full reward. She turned to me, took my hands in hers, +and whispered, "My splendid Oliver!" + +"What, madam?" said I, laughing lest I should do otherwise and most +unbecomingly. "In a red beard?" + +"You look like a Cossack!" she declared, laughing in her turn. + +So, in the way we had, we kept ourselves at arm's length from each other +and dropped at once into our old footing. + +Then, bit by bit, and unwillingly, and mainly in answers to my questions, +she told a tale that made my heart bound within me. This is the mere +skeleton of it, for I have no skill to give body and soul to such devotion. + +The Colonel brought the news of my capture by Brocton, pieced together +from the stories of my men, who got back unhurt, and of one of Brocton's +dragoons who was luckily taken prisoner in order to be questioned. +Margaret had immediately started on horseback for London, with one English +servant in attendance, going by Appleby to evade the Duke's army, and +across the mountains to Darlington. There she had travelled flying post +down the great north road, getting to London in five days thirteen hours +after her start from Penrith. + +Master Freake had started back with her within five hours of her arrival. +They travelled post through Leicester and Derby, and then on over ground +that was familiar. No wonder I had thought her near, since she had passed +within fifty paces of me as I shambled about dreaming of her. Part of the +five hours' delay in London was taken up by a visit paid by Master Freake +to the Earl of Ridgeley. He had gone forth stern and resolute. What had +happened she did not know, but as they sped north the Earl sped north a +mile behind them, as if they were dragging him along by his heart-strings. +At Carlisle, now in the hands of the Duke, they drew blank, for Brocton +was unaccountably absent from military duty. Fortunately Margaret, from +the window of her room, saw the sergeant ride by. Dot was sent on his +track and learned that Brocton was here, the house being a hunting-lodge +belonging to a crony of his who was an officer in the Cumberland militia. +They had ridden out that morning to see him, at which point her tale +linked up with mine and ended. + +"I am greatly indebted to you, Margaret," said I, very lamely, slipping +out her name at unawares. + +"Nonsense!" she cried. "May I not do as much as your pet ghostie did for +you without being a miracle? Do not you dare, sir, to offer me a +pinnerfull of guineas!" + +She looked at me with a merry twinkle in her eyes, and I feel sure I knew +what she was thinking of. But Nance Lousely was a simple country maiden, +such as I was born and bred amongst, and at that time I had no vile red +stubble, rough as a horse-comb, on my chin. + +We were interrupted by the lackey, who came with Mr. Dot Gibson's +respects to his honour, and would his honour like the refreshment of a +shave and a bath as both were at his service? Like master, like man. This +resplendent person was for the nonce humility's self. I went with him and +was made clean and comfortable, and my rags trimmed a little. + +This was preliminary to being summoned by Master Freake to a discussion +with their lordships, with whom was Margaret, aloof and icy. + +"At the 'Ring o' Bells,'" began Master Freake, addressing me, "you took +from my lord Brocton's sergeant, now dead, a bundle of papers?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Among them a letter addressed simply, 'To His Royal Highness'?" + +"That is so, sir." + +"You gave that letter to me, unopened, in the presence of Mistress +Waynflete?" + +"I did," said I, and Margaret nodded agreement. + +"Several attempts have been made to recover the letter from you?" + +"At least three such attempts were made by the late sergeant, and two by +my lord Brocton," I replied. + +"Their lordships' urgent need of recovering the letter is thus proven, +and the Court will attach due weight to the facts," said Master Freake. +Brocton turned white as a sheet, and the old rogue shook as a dead leaf +shakes on its twig before the wind strips it off. There was in them none +of the family pride which keeps the great families agoing. + +"I opened the letter. I mastered its contents. I still have it," +continued Master Freake, every sentence, like the crash of a +sledge-hammer, making these craven bystanders shake at the knees. "It is +deposited, sealed up again, with a sure friend, who has instructions, +unless I claim it in person on or before the last day of this year, to +deliver it in person to the King. At present no one knows its contents +except my lord Brocton who wrote it, and I who read it." + +"Thank God!" ejaculated the rascal old earl fervently. + +"Egad," thought I to myself. "It's the Ridgeley estates no less." + +"We will call it, for the purposes of our discussion," said Master Freake +soothingly, "a letter about certain lands." + +"Yes! Yes! Certainly! A letter about lands! So it was!" cried the Earl +eagerly, and Brocton began to look less like a coward on the scaffold. + +"Would you prefer any other designation or description, my lords?" +inquired Master Freake. + +"I'm quite satisfied, my good Master Freake," babbled the Earl. + +"What lands?" I burst out, unable to hold in my curiosity any longer. + +"The lands known as the Upper Hanyards in the county of Staffordshire," +replied Master Freake. + +"Well I'm ----," cried I, in amazement, but pulling up in time, and +Margaret's blue eyes were as wide open as mine. + +"You are, Master Oliver Wheatman," said Master Freake, "the future, +rightful owner of the ancient estate of your family in all its former +amplitude; and all arrearages of rents and incomings as from the +thirteenth of April, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two, with +compound interest at the rate of ten per cent per annum, together with a +compensation for disturbance and vexation caused to you and yours, +provisionally fixed in the sum of two thousand pounds. The Earl of +Ridgeley, smitten to the heart by the remembrance of his roguery and +knavery, has agreed to make this full restitution. Am I right, my lord?" + +"Absolutely, Master Freake, if you please," whined the rascal old earl. +"My God, I'm a ruined man!" + +"Well, my lord," said Master Freake, "if you lose your lands and moneys, +and I will not bate an acre or a guinea of the full tale, you and your son +will at least retain what, as I see, you both value more highly. The +restitution is to be made by you to me personally, so that we can avoid +quibbles about Oliver's legal position, he being a rebel confessed, and +the day after he is inlawed I will in my turn convey the property in both +kinds to him. When the restitution has been fully and legally made, +without speck or flaw in title, and passed as such by my lawyers, the +letter will be returned to you sealed as now, and of course I shall be +rigidly silent on the matter. Your lordships," he ended coldly, "may start +for London at once to see to the matter." + +The old earl started for the door eagerly, calling down on his son dire +and foul curses. Brocton looked poisonously at me before following, and I +knew I had not done with him yet. + +"I've got you your lands, Oliver, but there has been no time to get you +pardoned. The King was at Windsor; every moment was precious; and there +was no use, in the temper of the town, in dealing with underlings. It will +not do to run any risk of your being retaken, for Cumberland loves +blood-letting, and is no friend of mine. We shall take you to a little +fishing village on the Solway and get you a cast over to Dublin, whither +my good ship, 'Merchant of London,' Jonadab Kilroot, Master, outward bound +for the Americas, will pick you up. When we all meet again in London, in a +few months, you will be pardoned. Margaret and I must now follow her +father. The Stuart cause is smashed to pieces." + + * * * * * + +Late that night I stood with Margaret on the end of a jetty in a little +fishing village on the Cumberland coast. Master Freake was giving final +instructions to the owner of a herring-buss that was creaking noisily +against the side of the jetty under the swell of the tide. Dot was busily +handing to one of her crew of two certain packages for my use. + +We stood together, and she had linked her arm in mine. We who had been so +close together for a month were now to have an ocean put between us. Not +that that mattered to me, already separated from her by something wider +than the Atlantic, a lonely unnamed grave away there in Staffordshire. + +Suddenly she called to Dot, and he, as knowing just what she wanted, +brought her a box. She loosed her arm from mine and took it from him, and +when I would in turn have relieved her of it, she gently refused. + +"Oliver," she said, in quiet, firm tones, "you met me when I was in grave +danger and immediately, like the gallant gentleman you are, left mother +and home to do me service." + +"It was the privilege of my life, madam," I said earnestly. + +"You have sweetened your service by so regarding it, giving greatly when +you gave. And, sir, that service put me in your debt. You see that?" + +"It is like you to say so. What of it?" + +"The time came when you were in danger, and I, in my turn, left my father +and rode hard to save you. I am not boasting, you understand, sir. I am +merely stating a fact. I rendered service for service, like for like, did +I not, sir?" + +"You did, madam, and did it splendidly," said I. + +"Then, sir, when we meet again," she said, and she was now speaking very +clearly and sweetly, looking me full in the eyes, potent in all her beauty +and queenliness, "when we meet again, we meet on level terms." + +"Are you ready, lad?" called Master Freake. + +"Coming, sir!" I cried, almost glad at heart of the escape. + +"One moment, Oliver!" said Margaret. "So anxious to be rid of me? Nay, I +jest of course! I've a little present for you here, Oliver. It will, I +hope, make you think of me at times." + +"It will not," I replied, smiling. "It will make me think oftener of you, +that's all." + +She handed me the box, and we walked up to the boat. + +The half-moon was bright in an unclouded sky, and it showed me tears on +Margaret's cheeks, as I bent to clasp and kiss her hand. Then I said +good-bye to Master Freake and Dot, and was helped into the boat. + +So we parted, and I set my face toward the New World. For ten weary +months there is nothing to be said that belongs of right and necessity to +my story. + +Except this: The first thing I did when I was alone in my cabin on the +good ship, the "Merchant of London," was to open Margaret's box. It +contained a full supply of books wherefrom to learn "the only language one +can love in," and on the fly-leaf of a sumptuous "Dante" she had written, +"From Margaret to Oliver." + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON + + +Of how I fared the seas with Jonadab Kilroot, master of the stolid +barque, "Merchant of London," I say nothing, or as good as nothing. Master +Kilroot was a noisy, bulky man, with a whiff of the tar-barrel ever about +him and a heart as stout as a ship's biscuit. He feared God always, and +drubbed his men whenever it was necessary; in his estimation the office of +sea-captain was the most important under heaven, and Master John Freake +the greatest man on earth. + +The ship remained at anchor in Dublin harbour while tailors and tradesmen +of all sorts fitted me out, for Master Freake had given me guineas enough +for a horse-load. I did very well, for Dublin is a vice-regal city, with a +Parliament of its own and reasonable society, so that the modes and +fashions are not more than a year or so behind London, which did not +matter to a man going to the Americas. + +From Dublin I wrote home. I had laid one strict injunction on Margaret. +She was not to go to the Hanyards, or write there, or allow anyone else to +do either. I would not suffer her to know, or to run any chance of +knowing, about Jack. She was greatly troubled over the matter, but I was +so decided that she consented to my demand. It cost me a world of pains to +write. I wrote, rewrote, and tore up scores of letters. Finally I merely +sent them word that I was going to America to wait till the trouble was +blown over, and that I should be with them again as soon as possible. I +gave them no address. It was cowardly, but I could not bring myself to it. +The nightmare that haunted me was my going home, home to our Kate, the +sweetest sister man ever had, with her young heart wrapped for ever in +widow's weeds. I used to dream that I rode up to the yard-gate on Sultan, +and every time, in my dream, the Hanyards looked so desolate and +woebegone, as if the very barns and byres were mourning for the dear dead +lad who had played amongst them, that I pulled Sultan round and spurred +him away till he flew like the wind, and I woke up in a cold sweat. + +On a Wednesday morning in the middle of February the "Merchant of London" +swung into Boston Harbour on a full tide and was moored fast by the Long +Wharf. Master Kilroot hurried me ashore to the house of the great Boston +merchant, Mr. Peter Faneuil, to whom I carried a letter from Master +Freake. It was enough. My friend's protecting arm reached across the +Atlantic, and if it were part of my plan to tell at length of my doings in +the New World, I should have much to say about this worthy merchant of +Boston. He was earnest and assiduous in his kindness, and so far as my +exile was pleasant he made it so. + +Mr. Faneuil was urgent that I should take up my abode with him, but this +I gratefully declined, and he thereon recommended me to lodge with the +widow of a ship-captain who had been drowned in his service. So I took +lodging with her at her house in Brattles Street, and she made me very +comfortable. She had a daughter, a pretty frolic lass of nine, who +promoted me uncle the first day, and one negro slave, who was the autocrat +of the establishment till my coming put his nose out of joint, as we say +in Staffordshire. + +Master Kilroot unshipped most of his inward cargo and sailed away for +Carolina and Virginia to get rice and tobacco. Then he would come back +here to make up his return cargo with dried fish, to be exchanged at +Lisbon for wine for England. This was his ordinary round of trade, and a +very profitable traffic it was. + +When he had left, I settled down to make my exile profitable. By a great +slice of luck there was at this time in Boston an Italian, one Signor +Zandra, who gave lessons in his native tongue openly and in the art of +dancing secretly. The wealth of the town was growing apace; there was a +leisured class, and, speaking generally, the Bostonians were alert of mind +and desirous of knowledge above any other set of men I have ever lived +among. In the near-by town of Cambridge there was a vigorous little +university with more than a hundred students. Moreover, there was a rising +political spirit which gave me a keen interest in the men who breathed the +quick vital air of this vigorous new England. In many respects I found +myself back in the times of Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, captain of horse +in the army of the Lord-General. The genuine, if somewhat narrow, piety of +the Bostoneers reminded me of him, and still more their healthy critical +attitude towards rulers in general and kings in particular. They had the +old Puritan stuff in them too, for some eight months before they had +captured Louisberg from the French, a famous military exploit which the +great Lord-General would have gloried in. + +My days were all twins to each other. Every morning, after breakfast, I +went abroad and always the same way: past the quaint Town House, down King +Street, and so on to the Long Wharf to see if a ship had come in from +England, and to ask the captain thereof if he had brought a letter for one +Oliver Wheatman at Mr. Peter Faneuil's. I got no letter and no news. Then, +always a little sad in heart, I strolled back, and looked in at Wilkins' +book-shop, where some of the town notables were always to be found, and +where, one May morning, as I was higgling over the purchase of a fine +Virgil, I made the acquaintance of a remarkable young gentleman, Mr. Sam +Adams, a genius by birth, a maltster by trade, and a politician by choice. +We would discuss books together in Master Wilkins', or slip out to a +retired inn called "The Two Palaverers" and discuss politics over a glass +of wine and a pipe of tobacco. I liked him so much that I was afraid to +tell him I had been fighting for the Stuarts, and was content to pass in +the role Mr. Faneuil had assigned to me of an ingenuous young English +gentleman who had come out to study colonial matters on the spot before +entering Parliament. Our talk over, I went on to Signor Zandra's and +worked at Italian for two hours. Most days I took him back to my lodging +for dinner and read and talked Italian with him for another hour or two. +The rest of the day I gave to reading, exercising, and, thanks to the good +merchant, to the best society in Boston. + +Occasionally, when I knew for certain that no ship would clear for home +for two or three days, I made little shooting journeys inland, but in the +main this is how I spent my days, filling them with work and distraction +so as not to have idle hours for idler thinking. Spring passed, summer +came and went, and the leaves were turning from gold to brown when one +morning, as I was at breakfast, Mr. Faneuil's man came in with a letter. +It was from Master Freake, summoning me home as all was put right. It +contained a few lines from Margaret, written in Italian. A ship was +sailing for London that day, and I went on her. + + * * * * * + +Jonadab Kilroot had found his way across the Atlantic into Boston Harbour +much more easily than I was finding mine across London to Master Freake's +house in Queen Anne's Gate. It was after nine at night, at which late +hour, of course, I did not intend to arouse the inmates, but I meant to +find the place so that I could stand outside and imagine Margaret within, +perchance dreaming of me. At last I observed that men with torches were +clearly being used as guides through this black maze of streets, and I +stopped one such and offered him a guinea to do his office for me. He was +a lean, shabby, hungry-looking man, who might be forty by the look of him. +He stared vacantly at me for a few seconds, and then hurriedly led the +way, holding his link high over his head. + +This trouble over, another began, which put me in a towering rage. A +gaudy young gentleman bumped into me and, though it was clearly his fault, +I apologized and passed on, leaving him hopping about on one foot and +nursing the other, which I had trodden on. He swore at me worse than a +boatswain at a lubber, and but for the exquisite pain I had caused him I +should have gone into the matter with him. I found my linkman leaning +against a post and laughing heartily. + +"Never you mind, sir. He'll not take the wall of you again in a hurry." + +"Take the wall?" I said. + +"Done on purpose, sir, to pick a quarrel with you. The young sparks do it +for a game." + +Not much farther on, we met a sedan, with an elegant young lady in it, +and an elegant gentleman walking along by her close up to the chains, she +being in the roadway. There was ample room for me to pass between him and +the wall, which was also the courteous thing to do; but as soon as my +linkman had passed him, he shot clean in my way. I gave him all the wall +he wanted and more, bumping his head against it till he apologized humbly +through his rattling teeth. The lady shrieked viciously at me, and one of +her chairmen, my back being turned, pulled out his pole and came to attack +me. My man, however, very dexterously pushed the link in his face as he +was straddling over the chains, and he dropped the pole and spat and +spluttered tremendously. I stepped across to the lady and apologized for +detaining her, and then my man and I went on, easy victors. + +Arrived at Queen Anne's Gate, another surprise awaited me. Master +Freake's windows were ablaze with light, and the door was being held open +by a man in handsome livery to admit an exquisite gentleman and a more +exquisite lady who had just arrived there in chairs. I gave my man his +guinea, and after dousing his link in a great iron extinguisher at the +side of the door, he sped happily away. After watching the arrival of +three or four more chairs and one carriage, I summoned up all my +resolution and gave a feeble rat-tat with the massive iron lion's-head +which served as knocker. + +The man in livery opened to me, and I was inside before he could observe +that I was an intruder. True, I was in my best clothes--my Sunday clothes, +as I should have called them at home--and they were none so bad; but they +had been made in Boston, where fashions ranged on the sober side. Here I +looked like a sparrow in a flight of bull-finches. + +"Can I see Master Freake?" said I. + +"No," said he, with uncompromising promptness. + +"Is he at home?" + +"No," he retorted. + +"This is his house, I think?" + +"It is," he assented. + +"Then I suppose all these people are coming to see you--and cook," said I +gravely. + +The sarcasm might have got through his thick skin perhaps but for the +intervention of another liveried gentleman, who briefly asserted that I +was "off my head," and proposed a muster of forces to throw me out. My own +feeling distinctly was that I was on my head, not off it; but his +suggestion interested me, as I do not take readily to being thrown out of +anything or anywhere. Luckily, a fresh arrival took their attention off me +for a minute or two, and while I was standing aside to admire the lady, +who should come statelily down the grand staircase into the hall but Dot +Gibson. He too was in livery, but of a grave, genteel sort. + +"Hello, Dot," said I, accosting him quietly. + +It bounced all the gravity out of him. He shook my outstretched hand +vigorously, and then apologized for doing so, saying he was so glad to see +me. "Jorkins, you great ass," cried he to the first servant, "what do you +mean by keeping his honour waiting?" + +Jorkins looked apprehensively at Dot and the suggester of violence looked +apprehensively at Jorkins; but Dot was too full to bother with them, and +went on: "Mr. Freake will be delighted, sir, and so will Miss Waynflete. +They're always talking of you. Come along, sir! Allow me to precede you." + +He took me upstairs into the library, and left me there alone. In a few +seconds Master Freake burst in on me. + +"My dear lad," he cried, wringing my hand heartily, "welcome--a thousand +times welcome!" + +"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be back," was all I could say. + +He put a hand on each shoulder and stood at arm's length to examine me. + +"And we're glad to have you back, looking as fit and brown as a bronze +gladiator. Come along to your room! It's been ready for you this three +months, for that silly Margaret set to work on it the very day we sent off +your letter." + +"How is Mistress Waynflete, sir?" + +"You'll see in five minutes if you'll only bestir yourself. The wits say +that there's no need for George to furnish the town with a new queen as I +have provided it with an empress." + +He hurried me off to my room, as he called it, and it was so grand that I +crept about it on tiptoe for fear of damaging something. There was +everything a young man could want except clothes, and Master Freake +laughingly assured me that they (meaning Margaret and himself) had puzzled +for hours to see if they could manage them, but had given it up in despair. + +"I declared you'd pine and get thin," he said, "and she vowed you'd get +lazy and fat." + +I felt very doltish and unready as I followed him to the drawing-room. It +was very clear to me that no meeting on level terms was in front of me, +and when I got into a large, brilliant room where some dozen splendid +ladies and as many elegant, easy-mannered gentlemen were assembled, I felt +inclined to turn tail. + +"Empress." It was the exact word. Master Freake put his arm in mine and +led me towards her. She was sitting throned in one corner of a roomy, +cushioned sofa, with half a dozen young men--the least of them an earl, I +thought bitterly--bending round her as the brethren's sheaves bent round +Joseph's. And, as if she were not overpowering enough of herself, +everything that consummate skill and the nicest artistry could do to +enhance her beauty had been done. Juno banqueting with the gods had not +looked more superb. "On level terms," I whispered to myself mockingly, as +Master Freake led me on, for one of the circling sheaves, with whom she +was exchanging easy, lightsome banter, was my finely chiselled +acquaintance, the Marquess of Tiverton. + +Except that she cut a quip in two when she saw who it was that Master +Freake was bringing, Margaret gave no sign of surprise. She neither paled +nor reddened, nor gushed nor faltered. Empress-like she simply added me to +her train. + +"I bring you an old friend, Margaret," said Master Freake, for whom, as I +saw, the worshippers round the idol made way respectfully. + +"And my old friend is very welcome, sir," she answered, holding out her +hand. I bowed over it and kissed it. I thought that it trembled a little +as it lay in mine, but it is at least probable that I was the source of +what fluttering there was. + +"I trust you have had a good voyage, Mr. Wheatman?" she questioned easily. + +"Excellent, madam," I replied, with imitative lightness of tone. "It was +like rowing on a river." + +For a moment her eyes steadied and darkened, then she said with a smile, +"That being so, even I, who am no sailor, should have enjoyed it along +with you." + +This was how we met. Whether on level terms or not, who shall decide? + +"I say, Mr. Wheatman," broke in the pleasant voice of the Marquess, "you +don't happen to have any venison-pasty on you, I suppose? I've got some +rattling good snuff, and I'll give you a pinch for a plateful, as I did up +in Staffordshire. I vow, Miss Waynflete, it makes me hungry to see him." + +This speech caused much laughter, and Margaret said it was fortunate +supper was ready. She then introduced me to the company around, and when +this was done, Master Freake fetched me to renew the acquaintance of Sir +James Blount and his lady, so that I was soon full of talk and merriment. + +Supper and talk, wine and talk, basset and talk--so the time went by till +long after midnight. Then one by one the guests dropped off. The Marquess +lingered longest, and on going, pledged me to call on him next morning. + +"At last," said Margaret. "Beauty sleep is out of the question to-night, +Oliver, so tell us everything about everything. It's glorious to have you +back." + +It is not my purpose to dwell on my life in London. After a few days it +became one long agony because of, but not by means of, Margaret. She did +her best for me, and was all patience, kindness, and graciousness, and was +plainly bent on living on level terms with me according to her promise and +prophecy. It only required a day or two to show me that she had many a man +of rank and wealth in thrall. As wealth went then, the Marquess of +Tiverton was, by his own fault and foolishness, a poorish man, but he was +lost in love of her, and he was only one of the many exquisites who were +for ever in and out of Master Freake's fine mansion. It did not become a +Wheatman of the Hanyards to cringe or be abashed in any company, and with +the best of them I kept on terms of ease and intimacy. I dressed as well, +and perchance looked as well, as they did, and if my accomplishments +differed from theirs they differed for the better in Margaret's eyes, +which were the only eyes that mattered. + +Brief as I intend to be, I must set down a few jottings on things that +belong to the texture of my story. To begin with, the Colonel, though +pardoned, was still in France, looking after his affairs there, for before +starting to join the Prince he had wisely shifted all his fortune over to +Paris. + +Davie Ogilvie had got clear away after Culloden, and his sweet Ishbel, +though taken after the battle, had been permitted to join him there. It +was a great comfort to know they were safe, for there were sad relics of +my escapade in London--the row of ghastly, grinning heads over Temple Bar. + +Soon after my arrival, Master Freake had sent for his lawyers and +delivered to me in full possession the Upper Hanyards and the huge tale of +guineas which the rascal old earl had disgorged as the price of the +letter. Master Freake kept a rigid silence over the contents of that +famous document "about lands," and I had no wish to know. It was worth a +thousand acres and near ten thousand guineas to the Earl. I was satisfied +if he was. I put my guineas in a bank of Master Freake's choosing. What a +dowry I could have given Kate if-- + +My Lord Brocton was in town. I saw him several times, in the street or at +the play, but took no notice of him. He was said to be eagerly hunting +after a lady of meagre attractions but enormous fortune. Twice when I saw +him he had with him the fellow I had bumped against the wall, a notorious +shark and swashbuckler, by name and rank Sir Patrick Gee. Tiverton, who +had his own reasons for being interested in Brocton, told me they were +hand and glove together. + +In a little while a month may be, a change came over the relation in +which Margaret and I stood to each other. We both fought against it but in +vain. We could not travel on parallel lines, we two. We must either +converge or diverge, and fate had given me no choice. + +I used to pretend I was going out, to ride or lounge with the Marquess or +some other acquaintance, and then slip upstairs to the quiet old library, +bury myself in a windowed recess cut off by curtains, and try to forget it +all in a book. Fool-like I thought I could solve my problem so. The +Hanyards was calling me and I dared not go. I should leave Margaret, and I +could not leave her. + +Why, I asked myself a thousand times, was I so poor a cur compared with +Donald? He had done what I had done, and he had seen his way at once and +followed it. He would not live, having, in all innocence and with the most +urgent of all reasons, killed his friend. Not that I felt that his +solution was my solution. My duty was to leave Margaret and to go to Kate, +to help her, to the best of my ability, to live down her sorrow, and to +show by my life and conduct that I would pay the price. And here I was, +hovering moth-like round the flame. + +Then again I would say that I would wait till the inevitable had +happened, and Margaret was married to Tiverton. Anything to put it off, +that was really all I was capable of. + +To me, in my recess, Margaret came one morning. + +"I thought you'd gone out, Oliver," she began. + +"No," said I. "I altered my mind, and thought I'd like reading better." + +"You puzzle me. Are you quite well?" + +"As fit as a fiddle," said I cheerily, and rose to give her my seat, for +the recess would only hold one. + +"You're not to move, sir." + +She fetched a couple of cushions, flung them by the window, and curled up +on them. I wished she wouldn't, for she made a glorious picture. + +"Now, sir, I am going to have it out with you," she said severely and +smilingly. I smiled back, and pulled myself together. + +"I hope 'it' is not a very serious 'it,' madam," I replied. + +"It may be. Does your head ever trouble you?" + +"My head ever trouble me?" I gasped, taken aback. + +"Yes, your head, sir. When you fell down those stairs you received a very +serious wound on the head. It gaped open so that I could have laid a +finger in the hole. Are you sure it doesn't trouble you, Oliver? Blows on +the head are dreadful things, you know." + +"Look at it," said I, popping my head down, and very glad of the chance. + +Her beautiful fingers parted my thick, short, bristly hair and found the +spot. + +"There's nothing wrong with the skull, is there?" I asked. + +"No," very doubtfully. "It's healed splendidly." + +"Now, madam," said I, "talk to me in Italian!" + +It was the first time, by chance, that I had thought of it. + +For ten minutes she questioned and cross-questioned me in Italian on all +sorts of subjects, and I came out of the ordeal pretty well--thanks to +Signor Zandra. + +"Point one," said I in English. "The outside of my head is all right. +Point two: are you satisfied with the inside?" + +For a full minute she gazed in silence at her feet, twisting them about +swiftly and somewhat forgetfully. It was trying, almost merciless, for +she was very beautiful. + +"Yes," she said at length, but without looking at me. "You've done +marvellously well." + +"In the only language one can love in," I said bitterly. + +The words had no apparent effect. She still stared at her twinkling feet. +Suddenly she lifted her eyes up to mine and said, almost sharply, "Then +what did happen to you between the Hanyards and Leek to change you?" + +It was clean, swift hitting, and made me gasp, but I managed to escape. + +"Madam," said I, "I set out with you from the Hanyards to serve you and +for no other purpose whatsoever. In my opinion, speaking in all modesty, I +served you as well after Leek as before it. At least, I tried to." + +She leaped up, and, with great sweeps of her arm, flung the cushions into +the library. She said briefly, "And you succeeded, sir!" Then she left me. +swiftly and passionately, without another word or look. + +After this, the gap between us became obvious. + +Meanwhile the Marquess of Tiverton was doing his best to give me a +competent knowledge of the Court-end of the town. He had a spacious +mansion in Bloomsbury Square, but this was now let to a great nabob, and +he himself lived in close-shorn splendour in a small house in St. James's. +Here I saw much of him, for commonly I would stroll round late in the +forenoon and rout him out of bed. By an odd turn we took to each other +greatly, and while he drank chocolate in bed or trifled with his breakfast +we had many talks on the few subjects that mattered to him. + +Our favourite theme was Margaret, whom he outspokenly worshipped. He +rhapsodized over her in great stretches, calling me to testify with him to +her divineness, and rating me soundly if, in the bitterness of my heart, I +was a little laggard in my devotions. And, at irregular intervals, like +Selah in the Psalms, he would intone dolefully, "And I can't marry her!" + +It was no use my protesting that an unmarried man could marry any woman +he liked if she would have him. + +"A man can," he would reply, "but a bankrupt marquess can't. I've got to +marry that jade. Pah! She's as lank as a hop-pole and as yellow as a +guinea. But what's a marquess to do, Noll? They say she could tie up the +neck and armholes of her shift and fill it with diamonds. Damn her! I wish +Brocton would snap her up, but he can't. He'll never be more than an earl +and I'm a marquess. Curse my luck! Fancy me a marquess! I'm a disgrace to +my order and as poor as a crow." + +The 'jade' referred to was the nabob's only daughter and heiress, who +was, as all the town knew, to make a great match. My Lord Brocton was +keenly in pursuit of her, but she inclined to the Marquess, who could have +had her and her vast fortune any day for the asking. She was certainly not +overdone with charms, but Tiverton in his anger had made her out worse +than she was. + +The morning after my encounter with Margaret in the recess, Tiverton was +more than usually talkative, the fact being not unconnected, I imagine, +with an unsuccessful bout at White's the night previous. We got through +our usual talk about Margaret and the nabobess, and then he struck out a +new line. + +"Now if the divine Margaret," he said, "rightly so named as the pearl of +great price among women, were only Freake's daughter and heiress, I'd be +on my knees before her in a jiffy. They say he made cartfuls of money over +that Jacobite business. Everybody here was selling at any price the stocks +would fetch, and he was buying right and left on his own terms. He was +back here, knowing of the retreat from Derby, over twenty-four hours +before the courier came, and the old fox kept the news to himself. He's +the first man out of the city to set up house in the Court-end. Old +Borrowdell shifted his tabernacle as far west as Hatton Gardens in my +father's time, and that was thought pretty big and bold, but here's Freake +right in the thick of it, and holds his own like a lion among jackals. +Fact is, he's a right-down good fellow. Being a marquess, I ought to +despise him, 'stead of which I feel like a worm whenever he comes near me, +and that, mark ye, Noll, not because I owe him close on ten thousand. I +used to owe a rascal named Blayton quite as much, and every time he came +whining round here I either wanted to kick him out or did it. Heigh-ho! +I'm in the very devil of a mess but I'll cheat scraggy-neck yet. I'll +reform outright, Noll. I'll never touch a card again as long as I live." + +"That's the talk!" said I heartily. "Eat something and let's have the +horses out for a gallop across Putney Heath." + +Next evening, early, being very miserable, I went round to the Blounts, +with whom I was very friendly. I forgot myself for a time, it being +impossible to think of anything while lying on my back on the hearth, with +baby Blount trying to pull my hair out by the roots and cutting a stubborn +tooth on my nose. He was a delightful, pitiless, young rascal and would +leave anything and anybody to maul me about. + +I had, however, for once mistaken my billet, for while thus engaged who +should come in with his mother but Margaret? + +"Aren't you afraid to trust baby with such an inexperienced nurse?" asked +Margaret, smiling at my discomfiture, for I had to lie there till I was +rescued from the young dog's clutches. + +"Not at all. When he's with a baby, he becomes a baby, which is what they +want. He'll make an ideal father, don't you think?" said her ladyship +happily. + +"I think he will," said Margaret in a very judicial tone, but she +coloured as she said it. + +While Lady Blount disposed of baby, Margaret beckoned me aside. "Oliver, +you'll do me a favour, won't you?" she asked. + +"Certainly," said I. + +"As I came here in a chair, I saw the Marquess going into White's. I fear +he may be gambling again. He easily yields to the temptation, and soon +becomes reckless. Will you call in, as if by chance, and coax him out? I +would have him saved from himself, and you have great influence over him." + +"If he won't come out," said I, smiling, "I'll lug him out!" + +I excused myself to Lady Blount and set forth on my errand, willingly +enough, since she desired it and I liked him, but all the way I thought of +her anxious face as she asked me. + +At White's I found Tiverton playing piquet with Brocton. A heap of +guineas was by his side, and he was flushed and excited with success. The +bout had attracted some attention, for the stakes were running high, and +eight or nine men were gathered round the players, among them Sir Patrick +Gee. I waited while the hand was played out. Tiverton repiqued his +opponent, and joyously raked over to his side of the table four tall piles +of guineas. + +It was my first meeting with Brocton. Chance and Margaret had brought us +together again. + +"Egad, Tiverton," said I to the Marquess, who now first observed me, "you +had the cards that time with a vengeance. Are you playing on? What about +your engagement with me?" + +The Marquess coloured slightly at my veiled rebuke. He looked doubtfully +at his watch, then at me, and finally at Brocton. + +"Have you had enough?" he asked. + +"Enough?" cried Brocton. "Since you took up with farmers you've got +chicken-hearted at cards. Play on, my lord!" + +"I have told you," said I quietly to Brocton, "that his lordship has an +engagement with me. That should be enough. If you want your revenge, which +is natural, there are other nights available." + +"I want my revenge now, and will have it," he said meaningly, "and this +is how I serve men who come between me and my revenge." He was shuffling a +pack of cards as he spoke, and, with the words, he flung them in my face. + +At most of the tables play stopped, and the players there became silently +intent on this new game where the stakes ran highest of all. It meant a +fight, a fight between an expert swordsman and a man who knew nothing of +the craft. To such a fight there could be but one end. + +Tiverton was beside himself. "She'll never forgive me!" he muttered, and +I looked amusedly at him and whispered, "Who? The nabobess?" + +He was the highest in rank there, and as such a court of appeal and a +sort of master of the ceremonies. + +"My Lord Tiverton," said I aloud, "I am, as you know, a recent arrival in +town from the Americas and other outlandish places, and, naturally enough +under these circumstances, I am not clear on some points." + +"It's clear you've been swiped across the face," broke in Sir Patrick Gee. + +"Hold your tongue, sir!" said Tiverton, looking quietly at him. "Proceed, +Mr. Wheatman!" + +It made me smile again, tight as the corner was, to see the play-acting +spirit creeping over him. He was beginning to enjoy himself. + +"Therefore, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions," I +continued. + +"Certainly, sir," he replied, with great impressiveness, taking snuff in +great style while he awaited my questioning. + +"Is there any doubt that I am the insulted person?" + +"None whatever," he replied. "My Lord Brocton insulted you wantonly and +deliberately." + +"Then, my lord Marquess, I may be wrong, but I think I have the right of +choosing the place, the time, and the weapons." + +"Certainly, Mr. Wheatman," he answered. + +"Then if I choose to say, 'On the banks of the Susquehanna, ten years +hence, with tomahawks,' so it must be?" + +A wave of scornful laughter went round the room as the question passed +from mouth to mouth. Even the most ardent gamblers left their play to join +the circle around us. English even in their vices, they took a fight for +granted, but were up in a moment to see some fun. + +The Marquess was disconcerted. He obviously felt that I was about to +reflect on him in the gravest way; that, in short, I was backing out. He +would be tarnished by the dishonour that had driven me out of the world of +gentlemen. + +"I think," said he, "that would be overstraining the privileges of an +insulted gentleman." + +"Run away, farmer!" bellowed Sir Patrick raucously. + +Tiverton looked disdainfully at him. "You may like to know, my lords and +gentlemen," he said, as grandly as if he were reciting a set piece from +the stage, "that on the night of his arrival from Boston my friend was +rudely insulted in the Strand by a certain person." Here he stopped, +whirled round on the hulking scoundrel, and added grimly to him, "I shall +finish the story unless you leave the room at once." + +Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler. + +"Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my +unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again." + +"Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty. + +I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton. On +his face and in his cruel eyes there were the same gloating anticipations +that were there when, in Marry-me-quick's cottage, he thought he was +bending Margaret to his foul will. You could have heard a card drop in +that crowded room. + +My time had come to the tick. Stretching myself taut, I said slowly and +distinctly, "Here. Now. Fists." + +Brocton went limp and ghastly. I strode up to him, took him, unresisted, +by the scruff of the neck, and then said curtly, "Open the door, Tiverton." + +The willing little Marquess ran delightedly to do my bidding, and I +kicked my lord Brocton into the kennel and out of my life. + +Next morning I went round to Tiverton's as usual, and while he was at +breakfast, and we were starting our usual round of talk, in came Sir James +Blount, a stranger at such an hour. + +"Have you heard the news?" he asked abruptly. + +"What news?" asked Tiverton, rather sour at being cheated out of his +morning's consolatory grumble with me. + +"Mr. Freake has declared that Miss Waynflete is to be his sole heiress," +he replied. + +I had to thump Tiverton to prevent him being choked by something that +went the wrong way. We had an excited talk about the news, which Sir James +had received direct from Master Freake, which settled it as a fact beyond +dispute or change. Margaret was now the most desirable match in London +from every point of view. Blount went away quite pleased with the stir he +had made. + +"Henry! Henry!" yelled Tiverton as soon as we were alone, and in came his +man hastily. "Henry! What the devil do you mean by putting me into these +old rags? Damme! I look like a chairman. Go and get some decent things +out, you old rascal! I'm to call on the greatest lady in London town." + +He hurried off after his servant, and I heard him singing and shouting +over his second toilet. I crept miserably out of the house and made my way +to the mews. The ostler saddled my horse, a beautiful chestnut mare which +Master Freake had given me, and I rode out of town, deep in thought. +Mechanically, I went the way we had intended to go, and found myself at +last on the heights that overlook London from the north. Then I pulled up. + +The towers of the Abbey stood out nobly against the steel-blue sky. +Within their shadow was Master Freake's house where, by now, Tiverton +would not have pleaded his love in vain. I saw her there, in the splendid +room she always dimmed with her greater splendour, the exquisite Marquess +at her feet, happy in possession of the pearl of great price. Over this +vision a shadow came, and I saw the house-place at the Hanyards, with our +widowed Kate alone in her sorrow. Her flame-red hair was white as snow and +tears of blood were on her cheeks. Donald's farewell, _Weird mun hae +way_, boomed in my ears like a dirge. With a sigh that was near of kin +to a sob, I pulled the mare round and urged her northwards, northwards and +homewards. + +In my fear and trembling I shirked everything, doing childishly and more +than childishly. I was not on Sultan, and when I rode out of Lichfield I +hugged that simple fact to my heart. So much of my dream had at least not +come true, and I gave the lie to more of it by leaving the high road and +wandering devious ways till, within four or five miles of home, I left +even the by-ways and kept to the fields. So keen was I on my little +stratagems that I rode over the Upper Hanyards without once recalling the +fact that it was now mine as it had been my father's before me. About four +o'clock on a December day, just over a year since leaving home, I leaped +the mare over a hedge and was at the old gate. + +More of the dream was untrue. The winter sun was dropping down to the +hill-tops like a great carbuncle set in gold, and the Hanyards was all +aglow in its flaming rays. The gate was open, so that I could at least +begin by pitching into Joe Braggs for his negligence, and the windows of +the house-place shimmered a welcome because of the cheerful blaze within. + +Not a soul stirred. I jumped down, threw the reins over the gate-post, +and walked stealthily into the yard and up to the window. Still not a soul +stirred. + +I peeped in. + +There was our Kate, leaning lovingly over my chair, pillowed as she had +never pillowed it for me, and in the chair was clearly a man, for I could +see his stockings and breeches stretching comfortably past her skirts. She +laughed merrily at something said, and then stooped and kissed the person +in the chair. + +This was woman's faith! With a great clatter, I strode into the porch, +thrust open the door, and stepped in. There was a shout of delight, a +babble of, "It's our Noll! It's our Noll!" and Kate leaped into my arms +and rained kisses on me. + +The man followed her, slowly and feebly, leaning heavily on a stick. When +he turned his face so that the firelight showed him up, my legs sank +beneath me and my knees knocked together. It was Jack, dear old Jack, +nothing but the shadow of himself, but still Jack right enough, and his +hand was in mine. + +"Run, Kit!" he cried. "Get some wine! The lad's overcome. God bless you, +old Noll, how are you?" + +Kate ran off into the parlour, where our wine was stored. + +"Jack!" + +"Hello, Noll!" + +"I thought I'd killed you." + +"Was it you?" he asked, all amazed at my self-accusation. + +"Yes," I faltered. + +"By gom, Noll, you did give me a sock!" + +He heard Kate tripping back with the wine, and put his finger on his lips +for a warning. And that was the first and last remark Jack Dobson made on +the subject. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN + + +It took me to cure Jack. I administered one dose of medicine and he at +once began to fill out and get strong and chesty in a manner almost +absurd, whereon there was much twitting of our Kate who, in her old way, +rated me soundly in public and crept up to me in private, and kissed me +and wept gladly in the most approved maiden-like style. + +This was the way of it. I sent Joe Braggs into Stafford the day after I +got home to fetch out Master Dobson, and had him alone in my room. True he +was as near and grasping as ever, but I saw even this side of him in a new +light now, for he had been near and grasping for Jack. He was rather +uncertain when we met; glad enough, of course, to see an old friend back +again safe and sound, but dubious on the main point. + +"Master Dobson," said I, "your Jack desires to wed our Kate." + +"So he tells me," said he dolefully, rubbing his thin finger under the +edge of his bob-wig to scratch his perplexed head. + +"She is an excellent young woman, and a comely," said I, grinning at him. + +"Undoubtedly," he conceded. + +"But, as the head of the family, Master Dobson, I offer no objection to +the proposal." Much it would have mattered if I had, but I always take +credit when and while I can. + +"It's very kind of you, Ol ... Mr. Wheatman," said he, "but...." + +"Yes," said I encouragingly. + +"But there's what I may call the material side of the matter to be +considered. My son's bride should be suitable from the business point of +view." + +"I've been considering that point, Master Dobson. It is undoubtedly +important. Jack's a careless young dog, and I'm sure our Kate is just the +woman he wants from a business point of view. She'll keep an eye on every +meg in his pockets." + +"Tut, tut!" said he, stirred to action, as I knew he would be. "You +mistake me completely. My son will not be wanting in this world's gear and +he must have a wife to match." + +"I see," said I. "One with something substantial in her pocket." + +"Precisely," said he. + +"Well, Master Dobson, if our Kate is willing to marry your Jack, a point +on which I can offer only a conjecture, she will marry him with five +thousand pound in her pocket." + +He sat bolt upright and stared at me with his mouth wide open. + +We fetched them in, mother coming with them, and the old man there and +then gave them his blessing. Kate ran into mother's arms, while Jack wrung +my hand and danced for joy. Afterwards he ate the most astonishing dinner +imaginable, loudly asseverating that he was as right as nine-pence and +sick of slops. + +My coming back made a great noise all over our countryside. Of what I had +actually done there was no knowledge whatsoever. The tale went that I had +been to America and found a goldmine, and come home and bought back the +lost Hanyards. Acute sceptics in barbers' shops and market ordinaries +advanced the opinion that it must have been a very little goldmine, but +they were unable to substitute any other explanation and so fell into +contempt. The tale suited me and I never contradicted it. In a world where +a man who has travelled to London is a person of consideration and renown, +I, who had been to America, was as a god. My first visit to Stafford put +the sleepy old town into commotion. + +Every night around the fire in the house-place I told them of my +adventures. Jack, the sly fox, sat among his cushions, which he had not +been fool enough to discard along with his slops, with Kate on a low stool +at his knees. The vicar sat by mother's side on the settle. I drew a chair +close to her, so that her hand could clasp mine as I talked, and very +helpful I found it, for she understood in silence and in silence comforted +me. Jane laid supper, taking a long time over it, for between journeys to +and from the kitchen she would stand behind the settle and listen +wide-eyed to a spell of my talk. Every night the vicar said grace, adding, +in his simple, apostolic way, a special thanksgiving to the good God who +had brought the young lad safe home again, through perils by sea and +perils by land, and out of the very hands of evil men who had compassed +him about to destroy him. Then, after supper, I escorted the good man home +and came back through the moonlit lanes; and every night, without fail, I +went and stood on the very spot where the gaff had slipped out of my +collar, and I had turned round to see Margaret. + +The only discontented person in our little circle was Joe Braggs, who had +caught the dace that caught the jack, and so started me out of my jog-trot +yeoman's round into the great world of life and adventure. Joe had done +well while I had been away; our fields had yielded fruitfully under his +care as bailiff; and, having had a favourable harvest, we were much money +in hand on the year's working. I had thanked him heartily, confirmed him +as my bailiff now that I was back, and given him fifty guineas, a sum +which to him was wealth untold. Still the rascal was not satisfied, and +went about with a bear on his back, as Jane had it, so that I was greatly +tempted to clip his ear for him. + +The day before Christmas, he was busy all morning under Jane's garrulous +command, getting in bunches of holly and other evergreens from the +hedgerows. His last journey had been to one of the farms on the Upper +Hanyards in quest of mistletoe, which grew abundantly there in an ancient +orchard. On getting back he had held a sprig over Jane's head for a +certain familiar and laudable purpose, and had been rewarded with a smack +that sounded like the dropping of an empty milk-pail. A little later I +found him glowering in a cowhouse, and had it out with him. + +"Look here, Joe, my lad," said I, "tell me straight what's the matter +with you or I'll break your head." + +"What d'ye want to come back 'ere for, upsettin' Jin like this'n?" he +blurted. + +"What the blazes have I done to upset Jin?" I asked. + +"Why didna y' bring 'er back wi' ye, then?" + +"Who's her, you jolt-head?" I demanded angrily. + +"That leddy o' yourn. Jin's that upset 'er wunna luk at me, an' we wor +gettin' on fine." + +It was no use talking to Joe. I explained that she was a great lady and +was to marry a marquess, that is a much more important person than an +earl. He knew what an earl was, for of course he had heard of the 'Yurl,' +meaning that old rascal Ridgeley. A marquess, however, was outside his +ken, and the information was wasted. + +"Why didna y' marry 'er y'rsel', Master Noll, and bring 'er back 'ere, +then Jin wud 'a' bin all rate?" + +"I couldn't," said I. + +"Did y' ask 'er?" + +"No." + +"More fule yow," said he bitterly. "She'd 'a' 'ad y', rate enough. Jin +says so, an' 'er knows." + +What could be done with such a silly fellow? I left off discussing and +took him indoors with me. In front of Jane I pledged him in a mug of ale +and told him he was one of the best lads breathing, and I was greatly +beholden to him. In front of him I kissed Jane under the mistletoe and +told her that, bonny lass as she was, she was lucky to have the best lad +in Staffordshire. I left them in the kitchen, and heard no more crashes. +Later on, Joe whistled his three tunes with admirable skill and +intolerable persistency while, under Jane's orders, he took in charge the +boiling of the Christmas puddings in a vast iron pot hung over the kitchen +fire. + +It was growing dark. Everybody was happy. Mother was out and round the +village with her Christmas gifts, attended by one of our men and a cart +packed with good things. Nothing could have made her happier. Jack and +Kate were in the house-place busy with all sorts of housewiferies, in +which he was as interested as she. Joe and Jane were in the kitchen, as +merry as grigs. I went into my own room, across the passage from the +parlour, sacrosanct to me, my books and my belongings. + +There, too, was the great jack, set up to the very life by the skilful +hand of Master Whatcot. He appeared to be cleaving a bunch of reeds to +pounce on a dace, just as he had done once too often on that memorable +day. Brothers of the angle had made pilgrimages to see him from thirty +miles round, and it was an added charm to fancy that the monster had been +caught in a spot where Izaak Walton had fished as a boy, he having been +born and bred in these parts. My jack is a famous jack, for the curious +reader will find an account of him, with his dimensions and catching +weight exactly given, in Master Joshua Spindler's folio volume entitled +"Rudimenta Piscatoria, or the Whole Art of Angling set forth in a Series +of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son," London, 1751. No one who has yet +seen him has seen a bigger, though most of them have heard of one. + +I lit my candles, got my pipe going, and drew my chair near the fire to +read and smoke. It was, however, early days yet for me to read for long. +Moreover, by habit I had picked up my Virgil, and it was as yet impossible +for me to feel the tips of my fingers in the teeth-marks without thinking +of the poor wretch who had made them. I could see in exactest detail his +dead body lying in the road and Swift Nicks beside it, pitching the bag of +guineas up and down in the air, and smiling gleefully and yet wistfully at +me. From that grim event, whether my mind travelled backwards or forwards, +it traversed scenes such as few men are privileged, or fated, to pass +through. + +It was, again, too soon for me to realize the full effect of my +experiences on myself. I was not moody, as in the days aforetime. I +neither loathed my lot nor cursed my destiny. I had seen warfare and +bloodshed, I had had my heart wrung and my nerves racked, and now the +peaceful meadows winding along the river and stretching up to the purple +hills were dear to eyes from which the scales had fallen. This was the +life and labour on which the world was based, and it was worthy of any +man. I had seen Death the Harvester at work, and he was a less alluring +figure than Joe Braggs with a flashing sickle in his hand and a swathe of +golden grain under his arm. + +I should never be really alone again. I had company of which I should +never tire as I sat here with my memories. Margaret was rarely absent from +my mind, and every memory of her was a blessing and an inspiration. I did +not regret my love, foolish and vain as it had been. The thing that really +mattered was that Jack was alive. I could now look back on everything +without bitterness. If Margaret came for me now, to call me forth to +another hard round of struggle and adventure, I should be off with her +like a shot. She had made a splendid companion. She would make a splendid +marchioness. Some day, when the pain would not be unendurable, I would go +to London and steal another peep at those matchless eyes and that tower of +golden, gleaming hair. + +I did not hear the door open, but I heard mother's calm voice, gently +reproving Jane for an unseemly giggle. A pair of arms crept round my neck, +and slim white fingers cupped my chin. Kate did not know that it was I who +had so nearly sent her sweetheart to an untimely grave, for Jack had +sternly forbidden me to mention the subject to anyone, and, as I have +said, it might never have happened so far as he was concerned. Therefore +Kate, always a loving and attentive sister, was now more loving and +attentive than ever because she knew in her heart that, though I had +gained much in my wanderings, I had lost the one thing she had found in +the quiet sickroom where, during long weary months, she had lured Jack +back to life. It was always her task to fetch me from my books and my +thoughts to the beloved circle in the house-place, when, as now, she had +prepared a dish of tea for us. + +The soft resolute hands raised my chin, and I gasped as I looked into +Margaret's eyes. + +She lightly held me down, and, as if we had only parted five minutes +before in the house-place, began to speak, quietly but rapidly. + +"Oliver, do you remember waking me in the barn?" + +I nodded. I was too amazed to speak, and there was that in her eyes which +made me tremble. + +"I was dreaming," she said, and I nodded again and remembered how she had +flushed like the dawn. + +"Because you are the greatest goose of a man that ever lived, I am going +to tell you my dream. I dreamed that you were carrying me across the Pearl +Brook, and as you carried me the brook got wider and wider--you had made +it as wide as you could, you know--until it seemed as if we should never +get across it. And you would not put me down, though I begged you to do +so, but carried me on and on. You grew tired and weary, and your face went +white and drawn, as I find it now, but you would not let me go. Was it not +a curious dream, Oliver?" + +Again I nodded. + +"Why can't you speak, Oliver? Anything would make it less hard. Then, +because you were so weary, and so good to me, and so faithful, and +long-enduring, I did in my dream ... in my dream, you mark ... something +very un-maidenly ... and immediately we were both on the other side; and I +awoke as you put me down at last and found you by my side, having, in your +knightly unselfishness, ruined your hat to give me a drink of milk. And +because you are the best man on earth, and also a blind silly goose, +Oliver, and I must take some risk or lose my all, I am going ... to do the +unmaidenly thing I did in my dream ... and ... you ... must not misjudge +me, Oliver." + +She stopped, smiled as only Margaret can, and bent her head until a loose +coil of amber hair fell on my face Then she brushed it aside and, after a +little gasping cry, kissed me on the lips. + + + +EPILOGUE + +THE LITTLE JACK + + +AT THE HANYARDS STAFFORDSHIRE _August 9th, 1757_ + +Margaret and I had a hot dispute this morning. True she went away, +singing happily, to rebuild the masses of yellow hair that had fallen all +over her shoulders and mine, for the dreadful stuff seems to tumble down +if I look at it, but still we had disputed, and vigorously, too. The plain +fact is she had sniffed at Aristotle. + +The trouble arose out of this story of mine which I have been busy +writing for the last twenty months. It has been hard work, for I was new +to the business, and had to learn how to do it, but it has been a pleasant +task and a labour of love. Now we disputed about it. I said it was +finished. She said it wasn't. I said I ought to know. She replied not +necessarily, since I was such a great goose. Then I loaded my big gun and +thought to blow her clean out of the water. + +"My dear Margaret," said I, "Aristotle lays it down that every work of +art has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning of our story was +the catching of the great jack, the middle of it was the fight at the 'Red +Bull,' and the end of it was the kiss you gave me. You see, dear, how +exactly I have done what Aristotle says I ought to do." + +"Bother Aristotle! What does he know about us?" It was here that she +sniffed, not figuratively but actually. That is to say she held up her +nose, on pretence of looking at me, and audibly ... well, sniffed. There's +no other word for it. Then she cried triumphantly, "What is the use, Noll, +of telling our story and not saying a single word about the most important +people in it?" + +To this question I made no reply. I was beaten. Aristotle, had he been in +my place, would have been beaten too. If we had been in town I would have +run round to Mr. Johnson's and asked him to assist me, but I feel sure he +would have been as helpless as I was. There was no reply, so I contented +myself with playing with her gorgeous hair till it was all a-tumble to the +floor. + +Bother Aristotle! I must do as Margaret bids. + + * * * * * + +The Colonel and Master Freake were in the house-place when, at last, that +memorable Christmas Eve, I proudly took my Margaret there. + +"Sir," said I to the former, before he had ceased his hearty handshake, +"I love Margaret dearly and Margaret loves me. May we be married?" + +"You young dog! What d'ye say to that, John?" he said. + +"Nothing is nearer to my heart," said the great merchant of London, +giving me his hand in turn. + +"Nor to mine, so that settles it," cried the Colonel, fishing out his +snuff-box, while I led Margaret up to mother. + +We spent a happy Christmas as lovers, and were married on New Year's Day +by the vicar. + +Jack and Kate were married in the spring, by which time he was as well +and strong as ever. For years I feared lest his severe wound should have +left some permanent source of weakness, but happily my fears were +ill-founded. Jack, having had enough of soldiering, took to business at +Master Freake's suggestion. He has developed all his father's shrewdness +while retaining all his own boyish charm. He is now Master Freake's right +hand, in the great London house of Freake & Dobson. Kate is Kate still, +ardent, busy, level-headed, and loving, and the happy mother of three +girls and a boy. Jack and I are as twins to one another. + +In the summer after our wedding, Margaret and I went our journey over +again. We saw Cherry-Cheeks, and made sure that Sim should have not only a +good wife but a good business of his own to keep her on. We found out +sweet Nance Lousely, and filled her pinner full of guineas after all, and +left her tearful and happy. We knelt together by a simple grave in the +Catholic burial-ground at Leek, and on the top of Shap we stood, with +tears in our eyes, beside the great stone that marked the resting-place of +Donald and his chief. + +I did become a Parliament man, as Master Faneuil had said I should, and +am a strong supporter of Mr. Pitt. We spend part of each year in London, +where the Marquess is our great friend. He married the nabobess after all, +and she loved him well enough to make it her business to reform him. He +vows she is the finest woman in England, with a head on her shoulders as +good as Mr. Freake's. She makes a good marchioness, too, for she always +had sense, and has developed dignity. + +But most of our time we spend at the Hanyards, which I have made into a +fine house by careful changes. Master Joe Braggs and Mistress Jane Braggs +are our loyal, willing servants and our friends, and are as happy as +sandboys together. They have now quite a large family. + +To-day we are all together again for a long stay at the Hanyards. The +Archdeacon of Lichfield, once our beloved vicar, is with us, simple, +fatherly, and learned as of old. I can see his white head when I lift mine +up from my writing. He is sunning himself in the garden and talking with +mother, who turns her eyes now and again to look at the road, for Kate and +Jack are coming in from Stafford with their children. + +All these are familiar names, but it is fit that the record should be +given before I go back to Margaret's sniff at Aristotle. For while I was +busying myself with her hair, who should come in sight, walking through +the orchard from the river, but the Colonel and Master Freake. They +stopped to join mother and the Archdeacon in their talk, and we, looking +at them, were proud and happy in the knowledge of their love for us. + +Then there was a great clatter and chattering and excited shouting +without. Margaret had left the door of my study open, and in raced the +most important people in our story. They had a tale too big for coherent +talk, and they gabbled away, one after the other or both together, to tell +us all about it. + +It was Oliver who had done it. He held up with a pride that made him +splutter a little jack about fourteen inches long, which he had just +caught. They say he is his father over again. At any rate, he will fish +morning, noon, and night, if he can coax one of us elders to go with him +to take care of him. + +There he stood, the fish dangling at arm's length, telling his mother +exactly how he had done it. I do not pretend to be impartial, but a finer +boy than mine is not to be found. He drops the fish to the floor to rush +into his mother's arms to be kissed and praised. + +I am busy, too; busy as I love best of all to be. For on my knee, her +arms round my neck and her great mane of glorious wheat-coloured hair +tickling my face, is the dearest little creature on God's earth, my other +Margaret. If you want to see me when I am intensely proud and happy, you +must see me with her at my side walking in the Park or down the Green Gate +at Stafford, with all eyes turning on her because of her surpassing +childish beauty. + +"I helped him catch it, daddy," she says, lifting up her face to be kissed. + +So does history repeat itself, and it is settled at once that Noll's jack +is to be put by Master Whatcot in the same case as dad's, for all the +world to know that he is as good a fisherman as his father before him. Joe +is to send it to Stafford at once, and the two rush off eagerly to give it +to him, leaving us alone. + +To the glowing beauty of her maidenhood Margaret has added the serene +beauty of motherhood. That is all the change I can see in her, as I put my +arms round her and draw her to me. + +When she could speak she said happily, "Well done fisherman!" + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER *** + +This file should be named yeoad10.txt or yeoad10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, yeoad11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, yeoad10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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+Title: The Yeoman Adventurer
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+Author: George W. Gough
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+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7326]
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+[Most recently updated October 2, 2008]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER ***
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+E-text prepared by Nathan Harris, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks,
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+</PRE>
+
+<h1>The Yeoman Adventurer</h1>
+
+<h2>By George Gough</h2>
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<center>To</center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+<h3>A. D. Steel-Maitland, M.P.</h3>
+
+<h3>In Gratitude and Admiration</h3>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<div align="center">
+
+<p>
+<a href="#1">I. THE GREAT JACK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#2">II. THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#3">III. MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#4">IV. OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#5">V. THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#6">VI. MY LORD BROCTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#7">VII. THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#8">VIII. THE CONJURER'S CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#9">IX. MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#10">X. SULTAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#11">XI. IN WHICH I SLIP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#12">XII. THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN"</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#13">XIII. PHARAOH'S KINE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#14">XIV. "WAR HAS ITS RISKS"</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#15">XV. IN THE MOORLANDS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#16">XVI. BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#17">XVII. MY NEW HAT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#18">XVIII. THE DOUBLE SIX</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#19">XIX. WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#20">XX. THE COUNCIL AT DERBY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#21">XXI. MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#22">XXII. A BROTHER OF THE LAMP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#23">XXIII. DONALD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#24">XXIV. MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#25">XXV. I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#26">XXVI. THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#epilogue">EPILOGUE: THE LITTLE JACK</a>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="1">CHAPTER I</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE GREAT JACK</h3>
+
+<p>
+Our Kate, Joe Braggs, and I all had a hand in the beginning, and as great
+results grew in the end out of the small events of that December morning,
+I will set them down in order.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It began by my refusing point-blank to take Kate to the vicar's to watch
+the soldiers march by. I loved the vicar, the grave, sweet, childless old
+man who had been a second father to me since the sad day which made my
+mother a widow, and but for the soldiers nothing would have been more
+agreeable than to spend the afternoon with the old man and his books. But
+my heart would surely have broken had I gone. A caged linnet is a sorry
+enough sight in a withdrawing-room, but hang the cage on a tree in a
+sunlit garden, with free birds twittering and flitting about it, and you
+turn dull pain into shattering agony. The vicar's little study, with the
+rows of books he had made me know and love with some small measure of his
+own learning and passion, was the perch and seed-bowl of my cage, the
+things in it, after my sweet mother and saucy Kate, that made life
+possible, but still part of the cage, and it would have maddened me to hop
+and twitter there in sight of free men with arms in their hands and
+careers in front of them. Jack Dobson would march by, the sweetness of
+life for Kate--little dreamed she that I knew it--but for me the
+bitterness of death. Jack Dobson! I liked Jack, but not clinquant in
+crimson and gold, with spurs and sword clanking on the hard, frost-bitten
+road. I laughed at the idea; Jack Dobson, whom I had fought time and time
+again at school until I could lick him as easily as I could look at him;
+Jack Dobson, a jolly enough lad, who fought cheerily even when he knew a
+sound thrashing was in store for him, but all his brains were good for was
+to stumble through <i>Arma virumque cano</i>, and then whisper, "Noll, you
+can fire a gun and shoot a man, but how can you sing 'em?" And because his
+thin, shadowy, grasping father was a man of much outward substance and
+burgess for the ancient borough, Jack was cornet in my Lord Brocton's
+newly raised regiment of dragoons, this day marching with other of the
+Duke of Cumberland's troops from Lichfield to Stafford. And for me, the
+pride of old Bloggs for Latin and of all the lads for fighting, the most
+stirring deed of arms available was shooting rabbits. So, consuming
+inwardly with thoughts of my hard fate, I refused to go to the vicar's.
+Mother should go. For her it would be a real treat, and Kate would be the
+better under her quiet, seeing eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well then," said Kate, "grump at home over your beastly Virgil." Mother,
+who understood as only mothers can, said nothing, and prepared my
+favourite dishes for dinner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The meal over, and the house-place 'tidied,' which seldom meant more than
+the harassing of a few stray specks of dust, Kate in her best fripperies
+and mother in her churchgoing gown started for the vicar's. I stood in the
+porch and watched them across the cobbled yard and along the road till
+they dropped out of sight beyond the bridge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Kate's share of these introductory events became manifest. Search
+high, search low, there was no sign of my dear, dumpy Virgil, in yellowing
+parchment with red edges. I found Kate's cookery-book, and would have
+flung it through the window, but my eye caught the quaint inscription on
+the fly-leaf, in her big, pot-hooky handwriting:
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ "KATHERINE WHEATMAN, her book,<br>
+ God give her grease to larn to cook.
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ At the Hanyards.<br>
+ Jul. 1739."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The simple words stung me like angry hornets. Our red-headed Kate was no
+scholar, but at any rate her reading was more useful in our little world
+than mine; for this was where she learned the artistry of the dainties and
+devices Jack Dobson and I were so fond of. And if I did not soon learn to
+do something well, even were it only how to farm my five hundred acres to
+a profit, Kate's cooking would really require the miraculous aid suggested
+in her unintentional and, to me, biting epigram. I put the book down, and
+gave over the hunt for my Virgil. It would probably be useless in any
+case, since Kate had a cunning all her own, and had surely bestowed it far
+beyond any searching of mine. I contented myself with a fair reprisal,
+stowing a stray ribbon of hers in my breeches' pocket, and sat down to
+smoke. My pipe would not draw, and I smashed it in trying to make it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tall oak clock tick-tocked on in the house-place, and Jane sang on at
+her churning in the dairy across the yard. I sat gazing at the fire, where
+I could see nothing but Jack Dobson in his martial grandeur, and I hated
+him for his greatness, and despised myself for my pettiness. All the same
+it was unendurable, and it was a relief to see Joe Braggs tiptoeing
+carefully across the yard dairywards. The rascal should have been patching
+a gap in the hedge of Ten-acres, and here he was, foraging for a jug of
+ale. He could wheedle Jane as easily as he could snare a rabbit, but I
+would scarify him out of his five senses, the hulk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The singing stopped, and then the churning, and five minutes later I
+crept up to the kitchen door, which was ajar. There was my lord Joe, a jug
+of ale in hand, his free arm round Jane's neck. How endurable these two
+found life at the Hanyards! I caught a fragment of their gossip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be there such things as rale quanes, Jin?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course," she replied. "There's pictures of 'em in one of Master
+Noll's books. Crowns on their yeds, too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's one on 'em down 'tour house, Jin, but she ain't got no crown.
+But bless thee, wench, I'd sooner kiss thee than look at fifty quanes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jane yelped as I murdered an incipient kiss by knocking the jug out of
+his hand across the kitchen, but in kicking him out of doors I tripped
+over a bucket of water, and about half a score fine dace flopped miserably
+on the wet floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dunna carry on a' that'n, Master Noll," said Joe. "I only com' up t'ouse
+to bring you them daceys."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what the devil do I want with them?" said I angrily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Joe knew me. He said, "There's a jack as big as a gate-post in that 'ole
+between the reeds along th' 'igh bonk."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He saw the cock of my eye, and went on: "I saw 'im this mornin', an'
+'eard 'im. 'E made a splosh like a sack o' taters droppin' off the bridge.
+So I just copped 'e a few daceys, thinkin' as you'd be sure to go after
+'im."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Put them in some fresh water, Joe, and you, Jane, fill him another jug.
+I'll own up to Mistress Kate for smashing the other."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fetched my rod and tackle, picked up the bucket of dace, and set off
+across the fields to the river. The bank nearer the house, and about three
+hundred yards from it, stood from two to six feet above the water, being
+lowest where a brick bridge carried the road to the village. The opposite
+bank was very low, and was fringed in summer with great masses of reeds
+and bulrushes, now withered down nearly to nothing, but still showing the
+pocket of deep water where the jack had "sploshed like a sack o' taters."
+It was opposite the highest part of our bank--the Hanyards was bounded by
+the river in this direction--and the bridge was about one hundred yards
+down-stream to my left. In a few minutes a fine dace was swimming in the
+gap as merrily as the tackle would let him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For an hour or more I took short turns up and down the bank, just far
+enough from the edge to keep my cork in view. If the jack was there, he
+made no sign, and at length my sportsman's eagerness began to flag, and my
+eye roamed across the meadows to the church spire, under the shadow of
+which life as I could never know it was lilting merrily northwards. Here I
+was and here I should remain, like a cabbage, till Death pulled me up by
+the roots.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worthy Master Walton says that angling is the contemplative man's
+recreation, and, having had in these later years much to con over in my
+mind, I know that he is right. But it is no occupation for a fuming man,
+and as I marched up and down I forgot all about my cork, till, with a
+short laugh that had the tail of a curse in it, I noted that a real gaff
+was a silly weapon with which to cut down an imaginary Highlander, and
+turned again to my angling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And at that very moment a thing happened the like of which I had never
+seen before, and have not since seen in another ten years of fishing. My
+rod was jerked clean off the bank, and careered away down-stream so fast
+that I had to run hard to get level with it. Here was work indeed, and at
+that joyous moment I would not have changed places with Jack Dobson.
+Without ado, I jumped into the river, waded out, recovered the butt of my
+rod, and struck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As big as a gate-post." Joe was right. As I struck, the jack came to the
+surface. The great stretch of yellow belly and the monstrous length of
+vicious snout made my heart leap for joy. I would rather land him than
+command a regiment. My rod bent to a sickle as I fought him, giving him
+line and pulling in, again, again, and again. A dozen times I saw the
+black bars on his shimmering back as he came at me, evil in his red-rimmed
+eyes and danger in his cruel teeth, but the stout tackle stood it out.
+Sweat poured off my forehead though I was up to the waist in ice-cold
+water. Inch by inch I fought my way to the bank, and then fought on again
+to get close to the bridge, where I could scramble out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Probably I was half an hour in getting him there, but at last, by giving
+him suddenly a dozen yards of loose line to go at, I was able to climb on
+to the bank and check him before he got across to the stumps of the reeds.
+But here I met with disaster, for in climbing up I jerked the hook of my
+gaff out of my collar, where I had put it for safety, and it fell into the
+stream.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stick to the fish," said some one behind me, "and leave the hook to me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thanks," said I briefly, for I was scant of breath, and continued the
+struggle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A woman knelt on the bank, pulled the gaff in with a riding whip, plunged
+down a shapely hand and recovered it. Then she stood behind me, watching
+the fight. The jack, big and strong as he was, began to tire, and soon I
+had him making short, sharp spurts in the shallow water at our feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My new ally stood quietly on the bank, holding the gaff ready for the
+right moment. It came: a deft movement, a good pull together, and the
+great jack curled and bounced on the bank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Over thirty pounds if he's an ounce!" I cried gleefully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well done, fisherman!" she said. "It was a splendid sight. I've watched
+you all along. When you jumped into the river, I thought you were going to
+drown yourself. You had been walking up and down in a most desperate and
+dejected fashion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The raillery gave me courage to look into her eyes. I wondered if they
+were black, but decided that they were not, since her hair was the colour
+of wheat when it is ripening for the sickle and the summer sun falls on it
+at eve. And I, who am six feet in my socks, had hardly to lower my eyes to
+look into hers. Her face was beautiful beyond all imagining of mine. I had
+conjured up visions of Dido enthralled of Aeneas, of Cleopatra bending
+Antony to her whim. But the conscious art of my day-dreams had wrought no
+such marvel as here I saw in very flesh before me. I felt as one who
+drinks deep of some rich and rare vintage, and wonders why the gods have
+blessed him so. And further, as small things jostle big things in the
+mind, I knew that this was the real queen that had dazzled Joe Braggs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you call it?" she said, looking down at the fish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A jack, or pike, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'The tyrant of the watery plains,' as Mr. Pope calls him. You've heard
+of Mr. Pope, the poet?" She spoke as if 'No' was the inevitable answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Strictly speaking, no, madam," said I gravely, "but I have read his
+so-called poems." She frowned. "Horace calls the jack," I continued,
+"<i>lupus</i>, the wolf-fish, as one may say, and a very good name too.
+Doubtless madam has heard of Horace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My quip brought a glint into her eyes and a richer colour to her cheek.
+"Yes, heard of him," she said, with a trace of chagrin in her voice. "And
+now, O Nimrod of the watery plains, how far is it to the village smithy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just under a mile, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And how long does it take to shoe a horse?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How many shoes, madam?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again the glint in her eyes, and this time I saw some of the blue in
+them. "One, sir," she said shortly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ten to fifteen minutes, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's a very long time," she said under her breath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The smith is probably very busy to-day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Busy! Why so?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The dragoons may have found him much work," said I, merely my way of
+explaining the delay. But the words stabbed her. She laid a hand on my arm
+and cried gaspingly, "Dragoons! What do you mean? Quick!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Duke of Cumberland is marching north from Lichfield against the
+Stuart, and Lord Brocton's dragoons are in the village."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brocton! O God! Brocton! My father is taken! And by Brocton!" She spoke
+aloud in her agitation, and I saw that she was cut to the quick. And I
+rejoiced, so strange is the human heart, that it was Lord Brocton's name
+that came in anguish off her tongue. Oh for one blow at the man whose
+father had harried mine into an untimely grave!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In sharp, frosty air sound travels far across the meadows of the
+Hanyards. The hills that hem the valley to the west perhaps act as a
+sounding board. Anyhow, further inquiry as to her trouble was stopped by
+the rattle of distant hoofs. We were standing now less than a dozen paces
+from the bridge. A straggling hedge, on a low bank, crossed flush up to
+the bridge by a stile, cut the field off from the road. I rushed to the
+stile, and cautiously pushed my head through near the ground. Half a mile
+of level road stretched to my right towards the village, and along it, and
+now less than six hundred yards away, a squad of dragoons was galloping
+towards us. The hedge was thin and leafless, and there was not cover
+enough for a rabbit. I ran back. "Dragoons," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After me," she replied carelessly, and I saw that danger for herself
+left her cold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I kicked the great jack motionless, flung him to the foot of the bank
+under the hedge, and the rod after him, hurried her up to the stile,
+leaped into the water, took her in my arms, and carried her under the
+bridge. In less than a minute after I stopped wading, the dragoons
+clattered overhead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not an hour ago I had been aching for life and adventures, and here I
+was, up to the loins in water, with a goddess in my arms. Her right arm
+was round my neck, and her cheek so near that I felt her sweet, warm
+breath fanning my own. As the sounds died away, I turned and looked at her
+face, and I had my reward. Her eyes told me that she thanked and trusted
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well done, fisherman!" she said for the second time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're heavier than the jack," replied I, hitching her as far from the
+water as possible before wading back. A minute later I put her down on the
+bank with tumbled, yellow hair and face flaming red. I examined her
+critically, and cried triumphantly, "Not a stitch wet!"
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="2">CHAPTER II</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS</h3>
+
+<p>
+I threw the jack across my shoulder and we started for the Hanyards.
+Madam offered no explanations, and I made no inquiries. It was obvious to
+me that the dragoons had gone on to the little hedge ale-house, a good,
+long mile away, where the road from the village struck into a roundabout
+road to Stafford. Here, in the "Bull and Mouth," Mother Braggs ruled by
+day and Master Joe by night, and here beyond a doubt the stranger lady had
+tarried while her father had gone on with the horses to the nearest smithy
+at Milford.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was ample time to get to the Hanyards, but still, for safety's
+sake, we kept behind hedges as far as possible. She walked ahead, and I
+followed behind, water oozing out of my boots and breeches at every step,
+and the jack's tail flopping against my legs. Never had I gone home from
+fishing with such prizes. What pleased me most was her silence. It matched
+the trust in her eyes. Except for brief instructions as to the direction,
+no word passed until we gained the Hanyards from the rear, and I led her
+into the house-place unobserved by anyone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is little time to talk," I began. "The dragoons are certain to
+come here, as this is the only house between the inn and the village. Your
+father is, you fear, a prisoner, and indeed it seems the only explanation
+of his absence. I do not ask why. I gather that there is no purpose to be
+served by your sharing his fate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Free, I may be able to help him. A prisoner, I should...." She stopped,
+hesitating.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My Lord Brocton?" said I interrogatively. For the second time her face
+burned, and I saw in it shame and distress and fear. My lord was piling up
+a second account with me, and for humbling this proud beauty he should one
+day pay the price in full.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it was time to act. I ran to the porch and roared out, "Jane! Jane!
+Where are you? Come here quick!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jane came running in from the kitchen. She stopped dead with surprise
+when she saw my companion, and could not even cackle on about the jack.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Jane, do exactly what I say. Take this lady upstairs and dress her
+as nearly like yourself as you can. It's good you are much of a height.
+Pack her own clothes carefully out of sight. Off, quick!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They disappeared upstairs, and I watched the yard gate with eager eyes.
+No dragoons appeared, and in a short time madam and Jane were back in the
+house-place. Jane had done her work well. The great lady was now a fine
+country serving-wench, her shapeliness obscured in a homespun gown that
+fitted only where it touched, her feet in huge, rough boots, her yellow
+hair plastered back off her forehead and bunched into one of Jane's
+'granny caps,' and indeed totally hidden by the large flap thereof, which
+in Jane's case served the purpose of "keepin' the draf out'n 'er
+neck-hole" when she was at work in the dairy. For my share of disguising,
+I now rubbed together some ruddle and dry soil, and the mixture gave a
+necessary touch of coarseness to her hands. Altogether she was changed out
+of recognition, even if, which was not the case, any of her pursuers had
+seen her previously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Jane," said I, "her name is Molly Brown. She has served here two years.
+Her mother lives at Colwich. Have you both got that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Molly Brown--two years--mother at Colwich," said madam with a smile, and
+Jane repeated it after her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Molly," said I, with an answering smile, "Jane will start you
+churning. It's an easy job. You just turn a handle till the butter comes.
+Do not flatter yourself that you'll get any butter, but I'll forgive you
+that. And, having learned from Jane how to pretend to do it, you need not
+churn in earnest till the dragoons ride into the yard. Listen to Jane, and
+you, Jane, for the next ten minutes, teach the lady how to talk
+Staffordshire fashion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said Jane, who was plainly bursting with the
+importance of her task.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"First lesson, madam," said I. "'Rate y'are,' not 'Right you are!' It was
+not Mr. Pope's manner of speech, but it will suit your circumstances
+better. Off to the dairy, and leave the dragoons to me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Rate y'are, Master Noll," said madam, and, our anxieties
+notwithstanding, we both joined in Jane's rattle of laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They went off to the dairy, and I began my own preparations. I displayed
+the great jack in full view on the table, forestalling Kate's housewifely
+objections by disposing him on an old coat of mine, so that he should not
+mess the table. In the house-place he looked much finer and longer than in
+the open air, and I gloated over him as he lay there. I longed to change
+my clothes, not so much for comfort's sake as to cut a better figure in
+her eyes; but I dared not run the risk of not being at hand when the
+dragoons arrived. I drew a quart jug of ale, threw most of it away, got
+down a horn drinking-cup, drank a little, spilled some down my clothes,
+slopped some on the table, made up the fire, and sat down to wait. It was
+now about half-past three, the straw-coloured sun was perching on the
+hill-tops, and darkness would soon be drawing on apace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For perhaps a quarter of an hour I sat there, living over again the
+precious minutes under the bridge, when the clatter of hoofs awakened me
+to the realities of the situation. Peeping cautiously past the edge of the
+blind, I saw the dragoons--there were six of them--ride up to the gate.
+Sharp orders rang out, and three of the men dismounted, including him who
+had given the orders, and came up the yard. One stayed at the gate to mind
+the horses, and the other two trotted off on the scout round the fields
+near the farm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I slipped back to my chair, and let my chin drop on my chest, as if I
+were dozing in drink.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some one said at the porch door, "In the King's name!" I took no notice,
+and they crowded, jingling and noisy, into the porch. Again sharp commands
+were given; the two men grounded their arms with a clang on the stone
+floor of the porch, and waited there. The man in command stepped forward
+into the firelight and said crisply, "In the King's name!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was idle to pretend any longer. I raised my head and blinked drunkenly
+at him. Then I filled the horn, sang thickly and with beery gusto, "Here's
+a health unto His Majesty," and said, "Fill up and drink, whoever you are,
+and shut the door. It's damned cold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had little, red, ferrety eyes, and they looked fiercely at me
+--fiercely but not suspiciously, I thought. He waved my hospitality
+aside, and said, "You are Oliver Wheatman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, Esquire, at His Majesty's service to
+command," I replied with great gravity, and filled another horn of ale. I
+might pretend to be drunk, but I could not, unfortunately, pretend to
+drink, and it was strongish ale. He made a motion to stop me--welcome
+proof that he believed me tipsy in fact--and said, "Master Wheatman, the
+less drunken you are, the better you will answer my questions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, draining off the horn, "I can drink and talk with any man
+living, and, drunk or sober, I only answer the questions of my friends. So
+get a horn off the dresser--I'm a bit tired--fill up, and tell me what you
+want. D'you happen to be of my Lord Brocton's regiment?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then you'll be as drunk as me before you've finished with the Hanyards.
+Our ale goes to the head most damnably quick, let me tell you. You tell my
+dear old butty, the worshipful Master Jack Dobson, that I've caught a jack
+half as thick and more than half as long as himself. Here it be. Fetch a
+horn, I tell you, and drink to me and the two jacks--Jack Dobson and this
+jack beauty here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was getting no nearer to the object of his visit, and, perhaps
+thinking it would be well to humour me, he fetched a horn and tried our
+Hanyards ale. This gave me a chance of taking stock of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was a thin, wiry man of middle height and middle age. Such a face I
+had never seen. The first sight of it made me suck in my breath as if I
+had touched the edge of a razor. The bridge half of his nose had gone, or
+he had never had it, and the lower half was stuck like a dab of putty
+midway between mouth and eyebrows. His little, beady eyes were set in
+large, shallow sockets, giving him an owl-like appearance. A mouth
+originally large enough, and thickly lipped like a negro's, had been
+extended, as it seemed, to his left ear by a savage sword slash which had
+healed very badly. He had an air of mean, perky intelligence, as of one of
+low rank and no breeding who had for many years been accustomed to cringe
+to the great and domineer over smaller fry than himself. Some sort of
+military rank he had, judging by his stained and frayed but once gaudy
+jacket. He carried a tuck of unusual length, stretching along his left
+side from heel to armpit, and a couple of pistols were stuck in his belt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He put down the horn, smacked his lips, and began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman, I am searching for a Jacobite spy--a woman. We took her
+father up at the 'Barley Mow,' and I learned from a man of yours that the
+daughter was at his mother's ale-house down the road. She is not there,
+and left to walk to meet her father, she said. She has certainly not done
+that, and I have called to see if she is hiding here or hereabouts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By gad, we'll nab her if she is," said I heartily. "She's not been
+through that gate in the last half-hour, for it takes me that to drink yon
+jug dry, and I started with it full. But I'll ask the maids. Mother and
+our Kate are at the parson's yonder, gaping at you chaps. I dare say you
+saw them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said he doubtingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the men stepped out of the porch, saluted, and, being bidden to
+speak, informed his officer that he had seen Lord Brocton and Mr. Cornet
+Dobson talking to two ladies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That'd be they," I said, and going with unsteady steps to the door, I
+vigorously shouted, "Jin, Moll, Jin, Moll, come here! They're in the
+dairy," I added by way of explanation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The crucial moment came. Jane and 'Moll' scurried across the yard like
+rabbits, but stopped at the porch door with well-simulated surprise at the
+sight of the dragoons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom, I thawt 'e'd set the house a-fire," said Jane thankfully,
+addressing the company at large, and she bravely bustled through and
+shrilled at me, "At it again, when your mother's out; y'd better get off
+to bed afore she comes in. She'll drunk yer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jane's acting was so much better than mine that I nearly lost my head at
+being thus crudely accused before 'Moll,' but she went on remorselessly,
+addressing the dragoon, "Dunna upset him for God's sake, Master Squaddy.
+'E'm a hell-hound when 'e'm gotten a sup of beer in'im."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't trouble, my good girl. I'm used to his sort. Leave him to me and
+answer my questions. The truth or the jail, my girl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yow," sniffed Jane, "he'd snap yow in two like a carrot. Bed's best
+place for 'im. He's as wet as thatch with his silly jacking."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Jane," said I, "never mind me. I'm neither dry enough nor drunk enough
+to go to bed yet. Captain here wants to ask you and Moll some questions.
+Stop clacking at me like a hen at a weasel and listen to him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jane went through the ordeal easily, appealing to 'Moll' for verification
+at every turn, and so cleverly that the latter appeared to be as much
+under examination as herself. Moreover, Jane stood square in the
+firelight, but so as to keep 'Moll' shouldered behind the chimney in
+comparative gloom. They'd been churning all afternoon, the butter was
+there to be seen, stacks of it; nobody had been in or near the yard; the
+gate had never clicked once, and nobody could open it without being heard
+in the dairy. She overwhelmed the dragoon with her demonstrations of the
+impossibility of anybody coming up the yard without her or 'Moll' knowing
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's all right, Jane," said I, at length. "But she could easily have
+got into the house or into the stables without you or Moll seeing her.
+Let's all have a look for her. Unless she's small enough to creep into a
+rat-hole, we'll soon find her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sergeant Radford--to give him his name and rank, which I learned later
+from Jack Dobson--agreed to this, and in my joy at knowing that the ordeal
+was over, I was on the point of forgetting that I was drunk till I caught
+the clear eyes of madam fixed in warning on me. Jane acted as leader to
+the two dragoons in overhauling the barns and stabling, while 'Moll,' the
+sergeant, and I searched the house as closely as if we were looking for a
+lost guinea. Of course our efforts were futile, slow as we were so as not
+to outpace my drunken footsteps, and careful as we were so as to satisfy
+the keen eyes of the sergeant, who was very evidently on no new job so far
+as he was concerned. 'Moll' too seemed jealous of Jane's laurels, and went
+thoroughly into the business. She and the serjeant peeped together under
+beds and into closets, and she laughed brazenly at certain not very
+obscure hints of his as to the great services I should render to the
+search-party if I kept my eye on the house-place. She even said, "Master
+Noll, don't 'e think as 'ow th' ale be gettin' flat downstairs? It wunna
+be wuth drinkin' if y'ain't sharp."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The result was, that in about half an hour a thoroughly satisfied and
+rather tired assembly filled the house-place, for the two scouts rode up
+to the porch with the news that they, too, had found no trace of the
+fugitive. With the sergeant's leave I sent the five dragoons into the
+kitchen with the two maids to have a jug of ale apiece, while he stayed
+with me in the house-place, to crack a bottle of wine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I hoped, but in vain, that he would tell me news of the stranger's
+father, but he was too wary for that, and I did not dare to ask him. He
+made close inquiries as to the lie of the land hereabouts, and I pointed
+out that there was a field-path leading plainly to the village from the
+other side of the bridge and coming out at an obscure stile at the back of
+the "Barley Mow." The spy might have taken that and become alarmed. She
+could then avoid the village by another plain path, and so get ahead of
+the troops on the Stafford road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to
+find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ah!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old
+sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your
+eyes on those big houses in the East Gate. As for me, look at that back
+and breast and good broad-sword there. Damn me if I don't rub 'em up and
+come and have a ding with 'em at these rebels. On Naseby Field they were,
+Captain, long before your time and mine, but they did good work against
+these same bloody Stuarts. Crack t'other bottle, there's a good fellow.
+I'm dry with talking and wet with fishing, and it'll do me good."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pressed him to stay and 'have a good set to,' but he refused, and after
+drinking enough to keep me dizzy for a week, he nipped out and ordered his
+men to horse. I walked to the gate with him. He thanked me for my help and
+good cheer, and said it was quite clear that the spy was nowhere in or
+near the Hanyards. I renewed my greetings to Cornet Dobson and even sent
+my respects to his lordship. Off they rode, and it was with a thankful
+heart that, remembering my happy condition in time, I stumbled back up the
+yard to the house-place, where madam and beaming Jane were awaiting me.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="3">CHAPTER III</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MISTRESS MARGARET WAYNFLETE</h3>
+
+<p>
+Jane had taken the lady back to the house-place and was hovering around
+her, with little of the grace of a maid-of-honour to be sure, but with a
+heartiness and zeal that more than atoned for any lack of style. From
+mother's withdrawing-room I fetched our chief household god, a small
+ancient silver goblet, and, filling it with wine, offered it to the
+stranger with what I supposed, no doubt wrongly, to be a modish bow. She
+drank a little, and then, at my urging, a little more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," I said, "I think you do not need to be 'Molly Brown' any longer.
+Yon dragooner is quite certain that you are not here, and we can safely
+take advantage of his opinion. As for you, Jane, you've done splendidly,
+and I heartily thank you." I re-filled the goblet and handed it to Jane,
+saying, "Drink, Jane, to madam's good luck."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The honest girl blushed with joy at my words, and as for drinking wine
+out of the famous silver goblet of the Hanyards--such a distinction, as she
+conceived it, was reward enough for anything.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thanks are payment all too poor for what you have done, sir," said
+madam, "and any words of mine would make them poorer still. But, sir, I do
+thank you most heartily. And you, too, Jane, have done me splendid
+service. You are as brave and clever as you are bonny and pretty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," said I, bowing low, "you are too kind to my services, which
+have, indeed, been rather crudely performed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not so," she replied, "but with shrewd, ready wit and certain judgment.
+I cannot imagine myself in a tighter corner than at the bridge, and your
+device had the effective simplicity of genius. Your plan here was, to be
+sure, commonplace, but it, too, required caution and good acting, and you
+and Jane supplied both. It was nicer than popping me into some musty
+priest's hole, though I expect this ancient building has one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked at the wall as half expecting the sword of Captain
+Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman to rattle to the ground under this awful
+insinuation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The only use our family has found for priests, madam," I said, "has
+been, I fear, to hunt them like vermin. As a Wheatman of the Hanyards, I'm
+afraid I'm a degenerate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll not even be that much longer if I keep you from getting into some
+dry clothes. And, if Jane is willing, I will make myself myself. I would
+fain be on."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a sweet smile and a gracious curtsy, she followed the ready Jane
+upstairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I removed all traces of what had taken place, and carried my precious
+jack into the pantry, where I hung him in safety. He should be set up by
+Master Whatcot of Stafford as a trophy and memento in honour of this great
+day. I then hurried off to my room to attend to my own appearance, and
+indeed I needed it, for I was caked with mud up to my knees and soaking
+wet up to my waist. For the first time in my life I was grieved to the
+bone at the inadequacy of my wardrobe, and even when I had donned my
+Sunday best my appearance was undoubtedly villainous from the London point
+of view. I feathered myself as finely as my resources permitted, but it
+was a homely, uncouth yeoman that raced downstairs and awaited her coming.
+I drew the curtains, lit the candles, kicked the fire into a blaze, and
+built it up with fresh logs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would be impossible for me to set down the hubbub of thoughts and
+ideas that filled my mind. I had been plunged into a new world, and
+floundered about in it pretty hopelessly, I can tell you. The days of
+knight-errantry had come over again, and chance, mightier even than King
+Arthur, had commanded me to serve a sweet lady in distress. But I had had
+no training, no preliminary squireship, in which I could learn how things
+were done by watching brave and accomplished knights do them. I had lived
+among the parts of speech, not among the facts of life. I could hit a bird
+on the wing, snare a rabbit, ride like a saddle, angle for jack and trout,
+strike like a sledge-hammer, swim like a fish--and that was all. I knew,
+too, every turn and track and tree for miles round; and that might be
+something now, and indeed, as will be seen, turned out my most precious
+accomplishment. Some people said I was as proud as Lucifer, others that I
+was as meek as a mouse, and I once overheard our Kate tell Priscilla
+Dobson, Jack's vinegary sister, that both were right--which confounded me,
+for our 'Copper Nob,' as I used to call her, was a shrewd little woman.
+Still, such as I was, the stranger lady should have me, an she would, as
+her squire, to the last breath in my body. Only let me get out of my
+cabbage-bed, only give me a man's work to do, and I would ask for no more.
+Neither for love nor for liking would I crave, but just for the work and
+the joy of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The yard gate clicked, and a moment later mother and Kate came in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Noll, it's been grand!" burst out Kate. "I wish you'd been there.
+There were hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers, horse and foot, and guns
+and wagons without end. Lord Brocton was there, and Sir Ralph Sneyd, who
+is just a duck, and a nasty-looking major with his face all over blotches.
+And they saw us, and crowded into the vicar's to talk to us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what about Jack Dobson?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Oliver, what have you got your best clothes on for?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because I got wet through catching a great jack. But never mind my best
+clothes. How did Jack look in his uniform?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A lot better than Lord Brocton, or anyone else there, if you must know,"
+she said, jerking the words at me, with her cheeks near the colour of her
+hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can he talk sense yet?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He talked like the modest gentleman he is," said my mother, "and looked
+nearly as handsome as my own boy. He sent his loving greetings to you, and
+would fain have come to see you but his duties would not allow of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course my gibes at Jack were all purely foolish and jealous, and,
+moreover, I could now afford to be truthful; so I said, "If Jack doesn't
+do better, as well as look better, than my Lord Brocton, I'll thrash him
+soundly when he gets back. But he will. He's a rare one is Master Jack,
+and by a long chalk the pluckiest soul, boy or man, I've ever come across.
+And he'll learn sense, of the sort he wants, as fast as anybody when the
+time comes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course the lad will," said mother, taking off her long cloak, and
+Kate, when mother turned to hang it on its accustomed hook, gave a swift
+peck at my cheek with her lips, and whispered, "You dear old Noll!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this time I had been listening with strained ears for footsteps on
+the stairs. Now I heard them, and waited anxiously. The door opened, and
+Jane came in, upright and important. She curtsyed to my mother, announced,
+"Mistress Margaret Waynflete," and my goddess came into the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Straight up to my mother she walked,--a poor word to describe her sweet
+and stately motion, <i>et vera incessu patuit dea</i>, as the master has
+it,--curtsied low and nobly to her and said, "Mistress Wheatman, I am a
+stranger in distress, and should have been in danger but for your son, who
+has served me and saved me as only a brave and courteous gentleman could."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had ever loved my mother dearly, but I loved her proudly now, for the
+greatest dame in the land could not have done better than this sweet,
+simple mother of mine. Without surprise or hesitation, she took Mistress
+Waynflete's hands in her own, and said, "Dear lady, anyone in distress is
+welcome here, and Oliver has done just as I would have him do. And this is
+my daughter, Kate, who will share our anxiety to help you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then I was proud of our Kate, Kate with the red hair and the
+milk-white face, the saucy eye and the shrewd tongue, Kate with the
+tradesman's head and the heart of gold. She shook madam warmly by the
+hand, and led her to my great arm-chair in the ingle-nook as to a throne
+that was hers of right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus was Mistress Waynflete made welcome to the Hanyards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother and Kate took their accustomed seats on the cosy settle beside the
+hearth. I sat on a three-legged stool in front of the fire, and Jane
+flitted about as quietly as a bat, laying the table for our evening meal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Never had the house-place at the Hanyards looked so fair. The firelight
+danced on the black oak wainscot which age and polishing had made like
+unto ebony, and the row of pewter plates on the top shelf of the dresser
+glimmered in their obscurity like a row of moons. Our special pride, a
+spice-cupboard of solid mahogany, ages old, glowed red across the room,
+and from the neighbouring wall the great sword and back-and-breast with
+which Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, Captain of Horse, had done service at
+Naseby, seemed to twinkle congratulations to me as one not unworthy of my
+name. Not an unsuitable frame, perhaps, this ancient, goodly house-place,
+for the beautiful picture now in it, on which I looked as often as I dared
+with furtive eyes of admiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She told her story with simple directness. Her father's name was
+Christopher Waynflete, a soldier by profession, who had seen service in
+many parts of the Continent and had attained the rank of Colonel in the
+Swedish army. Her mother she had never known, for she had died when
+Mistress Margaret was but a few months old, and her father had maintained
+an unbroken reticence on the subject. Some six months ago, Colonel
+Waynflete had returned to England to settle, desiring to obtain some
+military employment, a plan which his long service and professional
+knowledge seemed to make feasible. In London he made the acquaintance of
+the Earl of Ridgeley, to whom, indeed, he bore a letter of introduction
+from a Swedish diplomat in Paris. Through the Earl he had met Lord
+Brocton, the Earl's only son and heir. The Colonel's hope of employment in
+the army had not been realized, and this and certain other reasons, which
+she did not specify, had embittered him against the Government. Not having
+any real allegiance to King George, whom he had never served, and who now
+refused his services, he easily entered into the plans of certain
+influential Jacobites in London whose acquaintance he had made. Three days
+previously he had set out from London to join Prince Charles. For certain
+reasons (again she did not give details) she was unwilling to be separated
+from her father, at any rate not until circumstances made it necessary for
+them to part, and then the plan was that she should go to Chester, with
+which city she was inclined to think her father had some old connexion,
+and stay there with the wife of a certain cathedral dignitary of secret
+but strong Jacobite inclinations. Colonel Waynflete's connexion with the
+Jacobite cause had, naturally, been kept secret, but she was almost
+certain that Lord Brocton had discovered it through a certain spy and
+toady of his, one Major Tixall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pimples all over his face?" broke in Kate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," said Mistress Waynflete, with a little shudder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was in the village this afternoon with Lord Brocton," returned Kate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Peace, dear one," said mother, "our turn is coming. Be as quiet as
+Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver, mother dear, hasn't seen Major Tixall, whose face is enough to
+make an owl talk, let alone a magpie like me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her right ear was near enough to me, the stool being big and I bigger, so
+I pinched the pretty little pink shell, and whispered in it, "Shut up,
+Kit, and think of Jack," which effectually silenced her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mistress Waynflete had little more to tell. They had travelled rapidly,
+avoiding Coventry and Lichfield, where the royal forces had assembled, but
+bending west so as to get by unfrequented roads to Stafford, and so on to
+the main north road along which the Prince was now reported to be
+marching. Just outride the "Bull and Mouth" her horse had cast a shoe.
+Leaving her to rest in the ale-house, the Colonel had gone on with the
+horses to the nearest smithy at Milford. He was quite unaware of the
+northward movement of troops from Lichfield, and was under the impression
+that he was now well beyond the danger zone. We had heard from the
+serjeant of his capture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Kate, at mother's request, took up the tale here. The road past the
+Hanyards to the village enters the main road abruptly, and clumps of elms
+prevent anyone travelling along it from seeing what is happening in the
+village. The vicarage is opposite the smithy and the inn, and when mother
+and Kate got there, only a few dragoons were about. They watched the
+Colonel ride up, leading his daughter's horse, and saw him turn round at
+once and attempt to go back as soon as he caught sight of the dragoons;
+but a larger body, under the command of Major Tixall, cantered in at the
+moment and, trapped between the two bodies, the Colonel had been compelled
+to surrender. He was kept until my Lord Brocton's arrival nearly an hour
+later, and had then been sent on to Stafford under a strong guard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the only fresh piece of information that was of any importance.
+There is a jail at Stafford, and no doubt the Colonel was by now lodged in
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I fear that my views, or at any rate my father's views, make me a
+dangerous guest," said Mistress Waynflete, "though your kindness has made
+me a welcome one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," I said coldly, "the only politics I know is that my Lord Brocton
+is fighting against the Stuart, and if by fighting for the Stuart I can
+get in a fair blow at my Lord Brocton, I fight for the Stuart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver," said mother, "it is wrong--I say nothing about its wisdom--to
+choose sides in such matters on grounds of personal enmity."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord Brocton's a beast," said Kate shortly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mistress Waynflete had turned a richer colour at the mention of Brocton's
+name, but at Kate's words she became scarlet, and for that I vowed I would
+knock him on the head as ruthlessly as if he were a buck rabbit as soon as
+I got the chance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She recovered and continued her story, but as it only concerned my share
+in the day's doings, it is unnecessary to repeat it here. She told it,
+however, in such kind terms, that I made an end to my discomfort by going
+to fetch the great jack for mother and Kate to look at. When returning,
+however, I could not help hearing Kate say to Mistress Waynflete, "Without
+a 'by your leave'?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As indifferently as if I had been a bag of flour," was the cool reply.
+And I had dithered like an aspen leaf!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose he half drowned you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On the contrary, there was not a wet stitch on me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver," added my mother, "has not many things to do that are worth his
+doing, but what he finds he does well."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Such as catching jack," said I, staggering in with my heavy load. It was
+admired unstintingly, and was indeed worthy of all praise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Supper is ready, mam," said Jane; "and Joe says he knowed it wor as big
+as a gate-post."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And where is Joe?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the kitchen, Master Noll."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Give him a good supper, not much ale, and that small, and tell him to
+stop there. I shall want him." Then, turning to Mistress Waynflete, I went
+on: "There's one way, and only one, into Stafford that's perfectly safe
+to-night. Joe and I will row you there. Now, mother, I'm hungrier than the
+great jack ever was."
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="4">CHAPTER IV</a></h2>
+
+<h3>OUR JOURNEY COMMENCES</h3>
+
+<p>
+I have already said that the river was the boundary of the Hanyards on
+the side towards the village. About a hundred yards above the pocket of
+deep water where the jack had lain, I had built a little covered dock, and
+here I kept a craft, half boat and half punt, which I used for my fishing,
+and in which mother and Kate could lie on cushions while I rowed them on
+the river on warm summer nights. It was heavy and ungainly, but very
+comfortable, and as safe as the ark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Joe received the information that he was to row to Stafford as cheerfully
+as an invitation to a jug of beer, and went off whistling to get the boat
+ready.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everything that care could suggest was done for Mistress Waynflete's
+comfort. Jane carried down to the boat two huge stone beer bottles, filled
+with boiling water. Mother insisted on madam taking her thick hooded
+cloak, shaped like a fashionable domino, and covering her from head to
+ankles. Kate slipped into my pocket a pint flask of her extra special
+concoction of peppermint cordial, the best possible companion on a night
+like this. Jane came back and returned again laden with rugs and cushions,
+and soon reported that the boat was ready.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother and Kate, with Jane behind them, came to the garden gate to bid us
+farewell. Little was said, for Mistress Waynflete was too moved by their
+kindness to say much, and I was too preoccupied. Madam kissed them all in
+turn and murmured a good-bye. I kissed mother and Kate, and they wished me
+a good voyage and a safe return. We turned our faces riverward and started.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now nearly eight o'clock. The night was pitch-dark, the sky
+star-studded and moonless. It was freezing hard, the keen air stung our
+faces, the tiniest twig was finger-thick with hoar-frost, and the grass
+crunched under our feet at every step. I went ahead as guide, and in five
+minutes we arrived at the dock, where Joe, the boat out, cushioned and
+trim for the voyage, was vigorously slapping his hands crosswise round his
+waist to keep them warm. He held the boat up to the bank, I stepped in,
+handed in Mistress Waynflete, bestowed her with all possible comfort,
+settled by her side, and took the ropes. Then Joe, clambering in, pushed
+off and the voyage began.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was up-stream, but fortunately the current was gentle, though there
+was a fair amount of water coming down. There was, or rather would have
+been on an ordinary night, no danger of discovery, since the river was
+half a mile from the main road at our starting-place, and ran still
+farther away from it for nearly two miles. Then came the one possible
+danger-spot on such a night as this, with the road occupied by troops on
+the march. A long bend in the river took it so close to the road that the
+yard of a wayside inn ran right down to the water. If we got safely past
+this, all danger would be over till we ran sheer up to the ruined wall of
+the town. The moon would not rise for two hours, so there was ample time
+for our row of about five miles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I trust you are comfortable, madam?" I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Comfortable and warm and cosy," she replied. "But for my fears for my
+father I should even be happy, for it has never before been my lot, and I
+have wandered far and wide over half Europe, to experience such and so
+much kindness in one day from perfect strangers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am, indeed, happy in my mother and sister. They are pearls of great
+price."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"None better in all Staffordsheer," said Joe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have rendered me a greater service than you know of, and I must not
+let you leave yourself out." To hide a note of wistfulness in her voice,
+she added mischievously, "Must I, Joe?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yow could find wus'n' Wheatman o' th' 'Anyards," said Joe, with sturdy
+precision of praise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is he really a hell-hound, Joe, when he's got a sup of beer in him? I've
+no clear notion what a hell-hound is, but clearly it means something as
+bad, say, as a janissary--the worst animal I ever came across."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sup o' beer in 'im," snorted Joe contemptuously. "He dunna really know
+what beer is, my lady. It's a grand thing is beer, if y'll only tak'
+enough of it to do y' good, but there's no vartue in half a pint of it.
+I've told 'im that lots of times. But it's God's truth, my lady, 'e dunna
+want no beer, dunna Master Noll, to mak 'im 'it like the kick of a 'oss. I
+on'y brought 'im a few daceys up t'ouse this mawnin', an'--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You row harder, Joe, and yawp less," said I, interrupting him. "Between
+you and Jane I shan't have a rag of character left."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sup o' beer in him," he growled, and spat loudly on his hands. Joe
+looked at all men as potential customers of the "Bull and Mouth," and
+judged them accordingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know the worst about you now, Master Wheatman, and by way of providing
+you with a less embarrassing topic of conversation, you might tell me what
+we shall do when we get to Stafford."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are going to Marry-me-quick's."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She started so abruptly that I laughed outright, and Joe rumbled like an
+overloaded wagon. I explained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall approach the town on the south side where the wall comes down
+to the river. 'Marry-me-quick' is not, as you seem to suppose, a
+disagreeable process, but an agreeable old woman who lives in a cottage
+which backs on to the river. Every schoolboy in the town knows her by that
+name, which is also the name of a kind of toffee she makes, and by the
+sale of which she earns a modest living. I cannot tell you how the name
+originated, but there it is. I went to the grammar school in the town, and
+in my time I must have bought and consumed some hundredweights of her
+'marry-me-quick.' In her tiny cottage you may rest in safety while I hunt
+up Jack Dobson and learn what has been done with your father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An' if I'd got a shilling," said the irrepressible Joe, "for every pat
+of butter I've taken owd Marry-me-quick, I'd--I'd--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seemed lost for words, so I assisted him, and paid him back at the
+same time, by saying, "Pluck up courage enough to speak to Jane."
+
+"That's rate, Master Noll."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is Jane so very fond of money, Joe?" asked Mistress Waynflete curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said Joe. "She ain't grasping, ain't Jin. She told me t'nate, she
+c'd 'ave 'ad a mint of money if she'd liked, but she wouldna tak' it. Said
+it would 'a' burnt 'er fingers. 'More fool yow,' says I; 'it'd 'a' soon
+gotten cowd weather like this'n.' But Jin's all rate. Er'll never bre'k
+'er arm at church door, wunna Jin."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I explained to Mistress Waynflete that a woman who broke her arm at the
+church door was a housewifely maiden who became a slatternly housewife
+after marriage. "There's no fear of Jane doing that," she replied; "she's
+as good as the guineas she would not take."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a space silence fell on us. All my attention was required to keep the
+boat clear of the banks, for the little river turned and twisted through
+its meadows like a hunted hare. There was only the starlight to steer by,
+but I had fished every yard of the river, and knew it so well that I gave
+Joe a clear channel to row in. Not a sound jarred on the rhythmic purr of
+the oars in the rowlocks and the gentle lapping of the stream against the
+bow. This day had God been very good to me. This was life as I would have
+it; work to do for brain and brawn, and a woman to do it for who was worth
+the uttermost that was in me. Romance had flushed the drab night of my
+life with a rosy dawn, and my heart was lifted up within me. If it faded
+away, there would at least be the memory of it. But it might not fade. I
+was under no illusions as to the stiffness of my task. I was matched
+against the powers that be, against my Lord Brocton, whose ability to work
+this maiden ill was increased a thousandfold by his military authority. I
+saw my way into Stafford, and I saw no more, not even my way out of it,
+and least of all my way out of it with the Colonel rescued and restored to
+his daughter. Mistress Waynflete had been so determined in her decision to
+follow her father that perhaps she had some plan in mind. She said nothing
+if she had, and if she had, it would, I supposed, depend on her woman's
+power of influencing Brocton. The future was as black as the outlook along
+the river, but I faced it eagerly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She broke the silence: "The last boat I was in was a gondola. It was on a
+perfect night in a Venetian June, the sky a sapphire sprinkled with
+diamonds, the warm, scent-laden air filled with murmurings and snatches of
+song. And there was no danger."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Romance, perchance," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot have a one-sided romance. Romance is an atmosphere breathed
+by two, not an emotion felt by one. To be sure, he was the most
+appallingly in earnest lover woman ever had. He wept for a kiss with his
+fingers twiddling on the hilt of his stiletto. Dear heart, these Italians!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should like to meet his countship," said I energetically.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, he was a count, with a pedigree as long as the Rialto, and he had
+not two silver piastres to rub against each other. He was the handsomest
+man I have even seen. Fortunately, we left Venice before he had quite
+decided that it was time to dig his knife into me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You speak lightly of your danger, madam," I said coldly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A hot-blooded Italian with a stiletto in his hand is a much more
+desirable creature, let me tell you, than a cold-blooded Englishman with
+the devil in his heart. That fiery little count, conceited and
+poverty-stricken, did at any rate pay me the compliment of thinking for at
+least a fortnight that I was a patch of heaven fallen in his way, whereas
+to your cold-livered English lord I am no more than an appetizing dish."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was not speaking lightly now, but with cold, concentrated anger. I
+remembered the reticencies of her statement at the Hanyards, and began to
+see dimly some of the connecting links in her story. My Lord Brocton's
+character was well enough known to be the subject of common talk at our
+market ordinaries. My very manhood shamed me in the presence of this
+queenly woman, marked down by a titled blackguard as his quarry, and I sat
+still, fists tightly clenched on the tiller-ropes, and said nothing,
+waiting for her to speak again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have seen to-day, Master Wheatman," she said, "a sight I have never
+seen before--a beautiful English maiden growing up to womanhood in the
+calm and safety of an English country home. You will be tempted, I know,
+to envy me my wanderings, my experiences, my freedom, but, believe me, I
+would rather be your sweet Kate in the quiet of the Hanyards."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It isn't as quiet as it might be when Jack's about," said I, seeking to
+change the current of her thoughts. Then I had to tell her all about Jack,
+and our boyish escapades and fightings and friendings, and because I had
+earlier in the day though evil of dear Jack, I now could say nothing good
+enough about him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was time to relieve Joe at the oars. At first he would not agree, for,
+he said, he'd been "lagging a bit during the day 'long o' them squaddies,"
+and wanted to put in a day's work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will, before you've done, Joe, for you've got to pull the boat back.
+So have a swig of beer and we'll change over. And madam shall acknowledge
+the virtues of our Kate's peppermint cordial."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Joe shipped his oars and reached out for his bottle of beer. I got out
+the flask and said in a sing-song voice: "Take two gallons of the best
+Hollands money can buy, and add thereto, first, four pounds of choice
+Barbados sugar, and, secondly, two bushels of freshly gathered leaves of
+the plant peppermint. Steep together for a whole moon, stirring the
+concoction every four hours during the daytime, and as often as you wake
+o' nights. Strain through a piece of linen, if you've got one; if not, do
+what our Kate did this year, use a fair maiden's silk stocking. The result
+is a drink fit for the gods, and, indeed, one which may even be offered to
+goddesses. Drink, madam!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was laughing merrily before I had finished. "Kate's stocking sounds
+the most innocent ingredient in it, Master Wheatman, but I must try her
+skill in brewing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did so, and pronounced it excellent but strong. I tried it too,
+rather more copiously, I confess. Indeed, it was good, but to me, I know,
+the charm of the cordial this time lay in the thought of the rich red lips
+that had touched the flask before mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Joe and I then changed places, and I kept hard at the oars until we came
+to the reach which ran close up to the "Why Not." Here Joe resumed the
+oars and I the ropes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is the only danger-spot," I said. "Yonder are the lights of the
+ale-house. On an ordinary night there would be no one about, even if it
+mattered if there were, but to-night, when it does matter, there are
+thousands of soldiers on the march, and there is some risk of our being
+observed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In another five minutes or so we heard faint snatches of song and bursts
+of applause, and shouting and laughing. The "Why Not" was now about a
+hundred yards ahead on our left. On the right the bank was lined with
+willows which, not having been pollarded for many years, stretched their
+long, thin branches well over the river. I ran the boat as far under them
+as I could. Joe pulled with short, soft strokes, and we crept slowly
+along. For a minute the lighted windows were obscured by the outhouses,
+and just as I caught sight of them again, a door was flung open, and the
+jumble of noises swelled into a roar of jeering laughter. A young woman
+flew out, heedlessly and noisily as a flustered hen, and a burly soldier
+lurched after her down the yard. At a whisper, Joe shipped his oars, and I
+ran the boat right into the bank. I grabbed in the dark for a hold-to, and
+luckily seized the roots of a willow. At his end Joe did the same. We
+hardly dared to breathe as we watched the doings on the other bank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lust, of blood or worse, and the fear of it, were there. The lighted
+windows and the open door made every movement of the man and the girl
+clearly visible. No one followed them. It was so ordinary an event to the
+company, perhaps that it was not worth while leaving mirth and beer to see
+the issue. But all serious elements in their affair changed abruptly and
+to our instant jeopardy. On the very edge of the water the girl, knowing
+her whereabouts to an inch, turned cleverly. The man, a stranger
+obviously, ran on and pitched clean and far into the river, while she,
+laughing and triumphant, scuttled back to the house. Her tale brought out
+at once a spurt of men, yelling with joy, to watch the fun. Some of them
+had snatched up lanterns and lighted candles, and they were followed later
+by a fresh, older, shrieking woman who carried a huge, burning brand
+plucked from the hearth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Happily for us the river was shallow, for a couple of strokes would have
+brought the man clean into us. The shock of the icy water sobered him. He
+splashed and spluttered to his feet, climbed up the bank like a giant
+water-rat, and would have slunk towards the house; but the rabble were on
+him before he had taken a dozen paces, and tormented him till he roared
+like a wounded bull. The woman with the brand cried out on him with vile
+words that made my face burn in the dark, and belaboured him about the
+head with her blazing cudgel. At every blow a shower of sparks flew out
+that drove his rollicking mates into a ring around them at a safe distance
+away. The man must have been set afire had he not been soused in the river
+beforehand. None of his fellows tried to help him, just as before none had
+tried to hinder him. It was his look out either way, and they enjoyed his
+discomfiture with all the gusto of children. At last the breathless woman
+and the cowed man came to a parley, the result of which was that, with a
+whoop of "pots round," they all crowded back into the ale-house, and we
+were once more alone on the river.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The ordeal by water and by fire," I said. "Push out, Joe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom! Owd Bess give 'im sock," he replied, and levered the nose of the
+boat into midstream again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Although there was no real need for it, the escape kept us all quiet. I
+persuaded Mistress Waynflete to lie down, so as to avoid the biting wind
+that was sweeping across the river, and Joe and I by turns made such
+progress that in less than an hour we drew up to the town meadow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The greatest caution was now necessary, since we saw that the bridge
+leading into the town was thronged with people, many carrying lanterns or
+torches. The town wall ran parallel to the river, on our right, with a
+narrow fringe of meadow between them. Here the wall was for the most part
+tumbled into ruins, and in the gaps stood little cottages, built in part
+of the stones that had once formed the wall. In one of these lived little
+old Marry-me-quick, Mistress Martha Tonks, to give her her christening
+name, and we ran up to the bank level with her place without being
+observed from the bridge, although it was only a few boat-lengths distant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stepped cautiously out and tiptoed to her back window. There the
+ancient maiden was, busily engaged in the manufacture of her staple, no
+doubt in anticipation of a greater demand for it in these stirring days,
+when much extra money would be passing around in the town, and many
+pennies thereof would dribble into the pockets of the youngsters. I lifted
+the latch and stepped in. She squeaked with affright till she saw who it
+was, and then turned her note into a gurgle of astonishment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you alone?" I asked. She nodded. "Just a minute then, and I'll be
+back again, with a visitor. Keep quiet!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I returned to the boat, and as I was obliged to move as stealthily as a
+cat, I could not help, as I approached, hearing Joe say emphatically, "I
+wunna." I cursed him silent, without troubling to ask what he was
+objecting to, and handed Mistress Waynflete out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Joe," I whispered, "off you go back! The moon will be up in a few
+minutes, and you ought to do it in an hour. You can sit in the kitchen all
+to-morrow to make up for this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Jin said 'er'd sit up for me," he said, and I was glad he had such a
+good motive to keep him up to his hard task.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Joe," said Mistress Waynflete, shaking the good fellow warmly
+by the hand. "Give my loving remembrances to your mistresses and to Jane.
+Say how grateful I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, my lady," he said simply, "and God bless you." So that only I
+could hear him, he added, "Tak' good keer on 'er, Master Noll. Jin's awful
+sot on 'er, and wunna luk at me if any 'arm 'appens 'er."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gripped his hard hand, gave him my parting message home, and then
+crouched and pushed the boat into and down the stream. As I lifted my hand
+from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the
+last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand
+was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with
+the new life.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="5">CHAPTER V</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE ANCIENT HIGH HOUSE</h3>
+
+<p>
+I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she
+manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night. Her cottage
+contained only one other room, serving as shop and living room, and
+fronting on a narrow lane which turned abruptly from the main street at
+the bridge-end to follow the curve of the walls. By the time I returned
+with Mistress Waynflete she had shuttered the window of the shop, snuffed
+the candles, and stirred the fire into a blaze.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marry-me-quick was an ancient, wizened, little woman, so small that she
+hardly escaped being a dwarf, humpbacked, and inexpressibly ugly. In times
+not so long gone by she would assuredly have burned as a witch, and many
+supposed her to be in league with the evil one. But in actual fact she was
+a cheery, voluble, and warm-hearted little body, and one on whom I could
+rely to serve us in this pinch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mistress Tonks," I said, "I want you to shelter this lady for the night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To be sure," chirped the little woman. "Luckily I've kept the sojers
+off. Every house in the town is full of 'em, and the Mayor's at his wits'
+end to know how to stuff 'em all in. I should think a score of 'em have
+come here, in ones, and twos, and threes; and when I stood bold up to them
+and said, 'Do you want any marry-me-quick?' they were off like scared
+rabbits. A great, sweet lady like you wouldn't think it, of course, but
+it's a godsend at times for a lone woman when she's ugly enough to turn
+cream sour, and somedeal crooked o' the body into the bargain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall certainly desire some marry-me-quick," said Mistress Waynflete,
+deftly evading the awkward conclusion of this speech, "for Master Wheatman
+has described it in terms that make my mouth water. And though you do not
+want to billet soldiers, you will, I know, befriend a soldier's daughter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should befriend the devil's dam, asking your ladyship's pardon, if
+Master Wheatman brought her here. I'm a little, lone, ugly woman, but
+Master Noll always stood by me. The lads, drat 'em, were for ever pinching
+Master Dobson's bull's-eyes and gingerbread, and him mayor of the town,
+though he's got lots grander than that since, but they never pinched any
+marry-me-quick, not in Master Noll's time. But he's gone now, and I'm not
+as nimble as I used to be. Jesus help me, how he had used to fight! He
+used to put my heart in my mouth, coming in here all blood and muck to
+wash himself afore he went home. But take your things off and make
+yourself at home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm afraid you'll hear a too full and too true account of me, madam,
+while I am away," said I. "Soldiers are likely to call, but you can leave
+Mistress Tonks to deal with them. Still, please discard your own jacket
+and hat, and wear mother's domino. It's homely and country-like, and you
+must pull the hood over your head, since, if your hair has been described,
+and any soldier who calls has heard of it, he will have to be blind not to
+notice it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, it's dreadful stuff," she said, with amusing meekness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So dreadful, madam," said I soberly, "that all England cannot match it.
+Therefore you must hide it, lest it should shock some poor soldier who
+comes seeking a billet and finds it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took off her hat, preparing to do what I asked, and the wondrous
+yellow hair, coils upon coils of it, was revealed. "Jesus help me," said
+little Marry-me-quick in a hushed voice, "the back of her head looks like
+a harvest moon. If the same God that made her ladyship made me, we shall
+begin life in heaven with a row, that's all I've got to say."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I smiled at the quaint conceit of the little woman, which lost its
+irreverence towards God in its reverence for His handiwork. "Now mother
+Tonks," said I, "I leave this lady in your charge for a time while I go
+into the town to see Master Dobson. I may be away some time, and you'll
+get us some supper. Anything you have will do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Anything I have?" she echoed scornfully. "I've got one of them rabbits
+you sent me last market day by that lozzicking Joe Braggs, but he's a good
+gorby is Joe"--here her voice softened, and madam smiled agreement--"and
+this frost has kept it as sweet as a nut. If you're not too hungry to
+wait, I'll make you some rabbit-stew."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Rabbit-stew? I'll wait for that, and I'm sure Mistress Waynflete will,"
+said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll live on marry-me-quick in the meantime," she replied, laughing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I leave you then in good hands, and hope to come back with cheerful
+news," I said, bowing low, and stepped forth on my errand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turned to the left and fifty paces brought me into the main street. A
+gun and a train of wagons were rumbling over the bridge, convoyed by a
+handful of dragoons and a riff-raff of noisy lads and lasses. Late and
+cold as it was, the main street was thronged as on a fair day at noon.
+Most of the shops, especially those that dealt in provisions, were open
+and full of vociferous customers, while every alehouse was a pandemonium.
+The street was choked with townspeople and soldiery; lanterns flickered
+and torches flamed; oath and jest, bravado and buffoonery, filled the air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pushed my way to the market-place. Here about a dozen guns were parked,
+and at least a hundred horses tethered. At each corner a huge fire cracked
+and roared. The town hall was a blaze of light, and I heard from passersby
+that the mayor and council had been in session since noon. The current
+rumour was that the Stuart, with fifty thousand Highlanders, savages who
+disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food, had sacked
+Manchester and was now marching south, with hell in his heart and
+desolation in his train. If one-hundredth of it were true, the worthy
+mayor had his work cut out, for the town was so ill-found that it would
+have fallen to a bombardment of turnips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took my stand on the town-hall steps to scan the scene and collect my
+thoughts. And here I had the best of luck, for who should come clanking
+down the steps but Jack Dobson. I had no need to envy him now, having
+better work on hand than his, but even if the mood of the midday had been
+prevailing, it would have disappeared before his hearty greeting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Noll, by gad, Noll," he cried, wringing my hand joyously. "I am glad to
+see you, bully-boy; I thought you were sulking in your tent like--like,
+you know his name, the fellow old Bloggs was always yarning about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Iphigenia," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was that the chap?" he said cheerily. "And now I've got you, come along
+to the house. I've more to tell you than there is in all your silly old
+Virgil, and it's alive, man, alive, alive. That's why it suits me. Come
+along, Noll. Lord Brocton's supping and staying with dad, so's Sneyd, and
+a lot more, and you'll hear all the news. Brocton's a beast, and I'm glad
+I'm an officer, if it's only a cornet in his rotten dragoons. There'll be
+one beast less in the world, I'm thinking, before long."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What's he done to upset you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I say, Noll," was his reply, "Kate did look sweet this afternoon. I was
+glad to have her come and see me off to the wars. I only had a few
+snatches of talk with her. Brocton was for ever finding me something to
+do, rot him, but she did look sweet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All right, if she did. Never mind our Kate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never mind your Kate, you barbarian, you one-eyed anthropathingamy! Oh,
+Noll, old friend"--there was a catch in his voice as he dragged me into
+the entry at the side of old Comfit's shop,--"she's your Kate now, but if
+I come back, I want her to be my Kate. Don't breathe a word to her, Noll,
+unless I never come back,--war has its risks, Noll, and I'm going to take
+'em all,--but if I never come back, Noll, just tell Kate that I loved her."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A plump of townspeople yelled their way past the entry, and their torches
+lit up his fresh, boyish face, all alight with the enthusiasms of war and
+love. I clasped his hand, and we looked into each other's eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm glad to tell you, Noll."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm glad to hear it, Jack. Come back, for Kate's sake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good fellow bubbled with joy at the meaning in my words, and we
+continued our way up the entry, intending a detour where we could talk in
+quiet, but before we had got out of the glare of the torches, he stopped
+me, looked searchingly at me and said, "Old Noll, there's more in your
+head now than Virgil." This confirmed my suspicion that Master Jack Dobson
+was learning in his way more than I had learned in mine.
+
+"Farming," said I. "Tell me why Brocton is a beast."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He thinks every pretty woman a butterfly for his filthy fingers to crush
+the beauty out of. But if he rolls his beast's tongue round one name,
+either he or I will want that ferryman chap. What's his name?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Charon," said I, forgetting to tease him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's him, Charon, I'm sure you're right this time. I wasn't sure about
+the sulky old boy in the tent. I always thought Iphi-something was the one
+that got his throat--Abram and Isaac sort of tale without any ram and
+thicket at the end of it--but of course you'll be right."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And what sort of dragoons are you cornet of?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They give me the bats, Noll. There's about two hundred town-sweepings,
+not worth powder and shot, who want tying on their horses, and hardly know
+butt from bayonet, and there's another two hundred better men, got
+together coming along, or in the country around Lichfield. Sneyd, a
+rattling good fellow, and I have tossed for stations, and when it comes to
+a battle he's to lead the yokels and I'm to follow behind, kicking the
+scum of London into the firing-line. Damn 'em. But I'll kick 'em right
+enough. Then there's Major Tixall--major, by gad--a slinking cut-throat,
+with a face the colour of pigs' liver. What he's majoring it for, Brocton
+and the devil alone know. The only good thing is we've got a first-rate
+drill sergeant. He's Brocton's toady, and for that I don't like him, but
+he does know his business, I must say that for him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Big-headed man, with a mouth slit up to his left ear?" said I, seizing
+the welcome opportunity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How the deuce do you know?" asked Jack, astonished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He came searching the Hanyards this afternoon for a Jacobite spy, a
+woman. But he didn't find her. She slipped through his fingers somehow. I
+understood from big-mouth that you'd caught her father. What have you done
+with him? Is he crow's meat yet?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, for some reason or other, which is a mystery to me, Brocton sent him
+on with the van."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, farther on. Their orders are to push into Stone to-day, and
+Newcastle to-morrow. They ought to be in touch with the enemy there. Of
+course it's not certain which way they'll come, and if they come this way,
+Noll, mark you, we've made a mistake. We ought to have waited for 'em at
+Milford. We could have blown 'em to bits from the top of the hills, long
+before they could have got at us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our talk had brought us to an alley containing a side entrance to Master
+Dobson's fine, old, timbered house, the pride of the town and known there
+as the "Ancient High House." It stood on the main street of the town,
+which led from the bridge to the market-place. For a moment I was
+undecided, since I had obtained the news that mattered most, but I had
+only been out a short time, the rabbit-stew would not be ready, Mistress
+Waynflete was safe and comfortable, and might prefer to be alone, it was
+possible that I might learn something further--and on these grounds I
+decided that it would be well worth while to accept Jack's invitation. I
+therefore followed him into the withdrawing-room. Here I paid due
+courtesies to buxom Mistress Dobson and Mistress Priscilla Dobson, Jack's
+oldest sister, a wasp-waisted bundle of formalities, for ever curtsying
+and coquetting, after the London mode as she fondly imagined. My back
+fairly ached with answering bobs and bows before we had drunk our part of
+a dish of tea, which Mistress Dobson had brewed wherewith to refresh
+herself after the toils of hospitality, but at last I jerked my way out at
+Jack's heels, and we climbed to the stately barrel-roofed room where the
+great ones were assembled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Horseshoe-wise round a mighty fire of logs, with a small table covered
+with decanters and glasses between each pair, some dozen men sat at their
+wine. There was, of course, Master Dobson, his meagre body all a twitter
+with importance, sitting in the centre of the bend, opposite the fire,
+whence he could survey all his guests at once, and urge them on with their
+carousing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My son returneth, my lord," he said, "with news from the worshipful the
+Mayor, and he hath brought with him a worthy yeoman, one Master Wheatman,
+who--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of the Hanyards, Esquire," said I in a testy whisper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha, yes," he corrected and compromised, "Master Wheatman of the
+Hanyards, a loyal subject of His Gracious Majesty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The best friend and hardest hitter in broad Staffordshire," added Jack
+heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stepped into the horseshoe and made a bow general to the company, and a
+lower one for the benefit of my Lord Brocton, who sat next to the hearth
+in pride of place and comfort. Some years older than I, but not yet
+thirty, handsome as a god carved by Phidias, but with drink and devilment
+already marking him out for a damned soul, he sat there, the idol of that
+lord-worshipping company. The only vacant chair was on his left. It was
+Jack's place, earned by his father's guineas, which had remained vacant
+during his absence. The good lad, I record it with pride, notwithstanding
+a forbidding glance from his father, motioned me towards it, and fetched a
+glass and poured out wine for me. As I was stepping forward his lordship
+was good enough to address me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha, Master Wheatman of the Hanyards,"--there was a sneer in his voice,
+--"it is well I see thee on the right side, or, by gad and His Gracious
+Majesty, we'd have that other five hundred acres of yours." He tossed off
+a bumper of wine and added, "Or a solatium, Master Wheatman, a solatium."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I caught Jack's eye as I stepped right into the middle of the group. To
+my astonishment it was glowing with anger. Did he not think I could take
+care of myself? Really Jack was becoming mysterious, but I supposed that
+as I was Kate's brother he was feeling unusually interested in my welfare.
+For my own part I was quite comfortable, and I replied easily, "As a
+matter of fact, my lord, I have chosen my side expressly on account of the
+well-known propensities of your lordship's family."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a full minute nothing was heard in the room but the cracking and
+sputtering of the fire. This was not because of what I had said, though no
+one present, and he least of all, could be fool enough to misunderstand
+it, but because of its effect on him. Then, as now, blood flowed like
+water on far lighter occasions than this, and Brocton, with all his
+faults, was a ready fighter. For once, however, his fingers did not seek
+his sword hilt, but fumbled with his empty glass, and his face went white
+as the ashes at his feet. At length he recovered himself somewhat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The loyal propensities of my family are well known to all men," he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And its determination to profit by them," I retorted coldly, and plumped
+me down at his side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Right opposite me was the rector, a gross, sack-faced, ignorant
+jolt-head, jowled like a pig and dew-lapped like an ox. Nature had meant
+him for a butcher, but, being a by-blow of a great house, a discerning
+patron had diverted him bishopward. In a voice husky with feeling and
+wine, he said, "Surely it is the part of a gracious king to reward such
+faithful service as that of the noble Earl of Ridgeley and my Lord
+Brocton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Decidedly, your reverence," I answered briskly, "and of others too, and
+if, as seems likely, the Highlanders have left a vacant deanery or two
+behind them, I hope your loyal services and pastoral life will be suitably
+rewarded with one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here Jack drew up another chair and I moved to make more room, so that he
+could sit next to Brocton, to whom he was soon detailing in eager whispers
+the result of his visit to the town hall. The others took up the broken
+links of talk, and this gave me an opportunity of inspecting the company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There could be no doubt about the man on my left. His vicious, pimply
+face manifested him Major Tixall, and Mistress Margaret's shudder was
+easily accounted for. He turned his shoulder to me and talked to another
+officer, who, so far, was only in his apprenticeship at the same game.
+Beyond were two other officers of a wholly different stamp, and the one
+who smiled at me with his eyes I took to be Sir Ralph Sneyd, a young
+Staffordshire baronet of high repute. Then came Master Dobson, separating
+the military sheep from the civilian goats. There was the Friday-faced
+clothier and mercer, Master Allwood, strange company here since he was the
+elder of a dissenting congregation in the town, and therefore well
+separated from his reverence. The worthy mercer's dissent did not extend,
+so rumour had it, to the making of hard bargains, and doubtless he was for
+once hob-nobbing with the great in respect of his long purse rather than
+of his long prayers. Other townsmen, whose names I did not know or cannot
+recall, separated deacon from rector.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The last man in the company, sitting opposite to his lordship, was a
+stranger, and by far the man best worth looking at in the room. He had
+drawn back a little, either out of the heat of the fire or to avoid his
+reverence's vinous gossip as much as possible. Except that he was
+certainly neither soldier nor parson, and probably not a lawyer, I could
+make nothing of him. He had a massive head and a resolute and intelligent
+face. He wore no wig and his hair was grey and closely cropped. I judged
+him to be a man nearing sixty, but he appeared strong and vigorous. He was
+dressed with rich unostentation, in grey jacket and breeches, with a
+lighter grey, silver-buttoned waistcoat, and stockings to match.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was only one thing to be talked about in any company in Stafford
+that night. What was going to happen? What of truth and substance was
+there in the rumours that filled all mouths? At Master Dobson's two
+currents of opinion ran violently in opposite directions. The soldiers on
+my left were of course certain that the Stuart Prince and his Highland
+rabble would be driven back. The towns-people opposite were equally
+impressed with the fact that so far he had not been driven back but had
+carried all before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Ralph had been stoutly maintaining that the rebellion was hopeless.
+"There's no getting away from it, Sir Ralph," squeaked Master Dobson,
+summing up for the doubtful townsmen; "between the rebels and us this
+night there's not thirty miles nor three hundred men, and you've so far
+only got about two thousand men in Stafford. I'm as loyal a man as any in
+England, but there's no getting away from that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nobody wants to get away from it, Master Dobson," replied Sir Ralph.
+"Any body of men with arms in their hands and the knack of using them, can
+march much farther than the Highlanders have come, if no other body of
+armed men stands in their way. The Stuart Prince's march will come to an
+end just as soon as he is opposed, and we're here to oppose him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Dobson was still gloomy. "What sort of men have you got? Raw
+militia lads, young recruits, and newly raised dragoons form at least half
+of your force in Stafford."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Agreed," said Sir Ralph, "but we're rapidly licking 'em into shape, and
+the Duke will be after us to-morrow with the regulars."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My good Sir Ralph," put in the mercer, "fifty thousand savage
+Highlanders will cut through Stafford as easily as if it were a Cheshire
+cheese. I fear the worst."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My worthy sir," said his lordship, and in his dulcet tones I heard the
+tinkle of the mercer's guineas, "you need fear nothing. Neither stick nor
+stone in Stafford will be disturbed. We are at least strong enough to make
+good terms."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And Mistress Allwood," said the rector with a leer, "will be spared the
+wastage of her charms on a ragged Highlander."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mercer's wife had all the charms of a withered apple, but here was
+opening for discord, and our twittering host staved it off by appealing to
+the stranger: "What do you think, Master Freake, of the way things are
+going?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have not formed an opinion as to what is likely to happen here, good
+Master Dobson," he replied, "but, speaking generally, I should feel much
+easier in mind if the Duke's horses were not so utterly worn out."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a distinct note of patronage in the tone in which this shrewd
+and sensible remark was uttered, nor was this affected, I thought, but
+rather the natural manner of a strong man speaking to a weak one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Egad, you're right there, sir," cried Jack. "Nineteen out of twenty of
+them couldn't be flayed into doing another five miles. I was over an hour
+getting them from Milford, under five miles."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Highlanders would march it in less," replied Master Freake, "and
+this is not a campaign, but a race."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where to?" It was Brocton who spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"London," was the prompt reply. "That's the heart of England, my lord,
+and if Prince Charles gets into the heart he need not be concerned over
+Wade marking time in the heels or the Duke sprawling about in its belly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your speech is light, Master Freake," said the rector with drunken sense
+and gravity. "I trust it savoureth not of treasonable hopes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turned during this absurd remark to glance at Brocton to see what
+effect this excellent summary of the situation had had on him. To my
+surprise I caught him looking so meaningly at the pimple-faced Major, that
+I felt sure something was going to happen, and I was right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God rot the man," said the Major thickly. "Does he say that I'm
+sprawling about in somebody's belly?" He staggered to his feet, hand on
+sword, and made to cross to the stranger, shouting, "Damnation to you,
+I'll thrust something into your belly!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brocton, not in the least to my surprise, made no attempt to interfere.
+Jack couldn't, for I was in the way. His father began to splutter
+helplessly. I shot out my foot, and swept the Major heavily to the floor.
+I plucked him up by his collar as if he were a rabbit, and choked him till
+his face was nearly black. Then I put him back in his chair, where he sat
+huddled up and gasping.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I to him, with much politeness, "you are tired by the
+exertions of the evening. But I like a man who sticks up for his
+commander, and desire to have the honour of drinking your health." And I
+toasted him complacently, smiling the while into his little pig's eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This terminated the trouble, which Master Freake had watched with quiet
+amusement. For my own part I was now anxious to go, for I was learning
+nothing. Accident favoured me, for a servant came in and whispered
+something to Brocton which took him out of the room. I seized the
+opportunity to follow, declining to allow Jack to accompany me, and
+wishing him good-bye and good luck. "Remember about Kate," were his last
+words, whispered eagerly as he loosed my hand and opened me the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several rooms opened on the landing, and I noticed that one door was
+ajar. As I passed the slit of light I caught sight of the sergeant of
+dragoons, and stopped beyond the door to listen. I heard Brocton's voice,
+and caught the words, "Egad, I'll e'en try her. Take the best horse
+available. There's no danger, but speed is everything." He dropped his
+voice to a whisper and for a moment or two I caught nothing. Then, raising
+his voice again, he said, "And now for your prize." I heard him move to
+go, and darted ahead, silent as a bat in a barn, and a moment later was in
+the noisy street. There was nothing to keep me now, and a few minutes
+later I quietly lifted Marry-me-quick's latch, stepped into the room, and
+observed at once that Mistress Waynflete's look imported news.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, little mother," said I to Mistress Tonks, "supper's the blessedest
+word I know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And the rabbit-stew's as good as done by now," she said, and went into
+the back room to dish it up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The man with the slit face has been," said Mistress Waynflete
+composedly. "He came hunting for quarters, but Mistress Tonks frightened
+him off. At any rate, he soon left."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did he recognize you as 'Moll' of the Hanyards?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm quite sure that he did not. I turned my back the moment he entered,
+and my hood was up. Moreover, I did not speak a word. Mother Tonks said
+that I was staying here for the night because my father's house was full
+of soldiers. She couldn't and wouldn't, she said, have a soldier here for
+all the worshipful mayors in England. I was quite amused at the way she
+talked him back to the door and through it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little woman bustled in to lay the supper things. She was bubbling
+over with elation. "It'll be another ten or fifteen minutes, will the
+rabbit-stew. The lady will have told you about ugly mug, Master Oliver. I
+got him out in no time. His head was all mouth like a cod-fish. I'll soon
+be back. I expect you're both hungry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Off she bustled again, and we again settled down to our talk. I was
+anxious to see if she could throw any light on Brocton's dealing with her
+father. His conduct was to me wholly inexplicable. Then, too, there was
+his obvious understanding with Major Tixall in the matter of the latter's
+attack on Master Freake. Who was this stranger and why had he incurred
+Brocton's enmity? Here was a whole string of puzzles awaiting solution.
+But before I could start the conversation we were again interrupted. The
+latch clicked, the door opened, and in walked my Lord Brocton.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="6">CHAPTER VI</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MY LORD BROCTON</h3>
+
+<p>
+I was as new to a life of action as an hour-old duckling is to water, and
+this ironical upset of all my plans left me helpless. The very last man
+whom I wanted to see Mistress Waynflete was here, his plumed hat sweeping
+to the floor, triumph on his handsome face and in his easy, languid tones.
+Indeed, more astonishing than his being here, was his manner and bearing.
+At Master Dobson's, a natural remark of mine had beaten all his wits out
+of him. Here his assurance was such that it puzzled me out of action.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My sergeant, madam," he began, "no mean judge, since he has seen the
+reigning beauties of half the capitals of Europe, told me to expect a
+prize, but it is the prize. Master Wheatman, you are not, I am told, as
+good a judge of cattle as Turnip Townshend, but you are, let me tell you,
+a better one of women. I understand you know. Both acres and solatium
+shall be mine in any event. And, dear Margaret, though I do not understand
+what your haughtiness is doing here alone with my farmer friend, I need
+hardly say that your devoted servant greets you with all humility."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again his hat curved in mockery through the air. He replaced it on his
+head, drew his rapier, with quick turns of his wrist swished the supple
+blade through the air till it sang, then flashed it out at me like the
+tongue of an adder, and said, "Sit you still, Farmer Wheatman, sit you
+still. Move but your hand and I spit you like a lark on a skewer. So,
+little man, so!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The contempt in his words stirred the gall in my liver, but I neither
+spoke nor shifted, and he continued, addressing her, but with cold, amused
+eyes fixed on me, "You see, sweet Margaret, how yokel blood means yokel
+mood. Your turnip-knight freezes at the sight of steel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In part at least he spoke truth. I had rarely seen a naked sword, other
+than our time-worn and useless relic of the doughty Smite-and-spare-not,
+and had never sat thus at the point of one drawn in earnest on myself. It
+is easy to blame me, and at the back of my own mind I was blaming and
+cursing myself, as I sat helpless there. I was keen as the blade he bore
+to help her, for here was her hour of uttermost need, but I did not see
+that I should be capable of much service with a hole in my heart, and he
+had me at his mercy beyond a doubt, so long as he had me in his eye. No,
+galling as it was, there was nothing to do but to wait the turn of events.
+Something might divert his attention. One second was all I wanted, and I
+sat there praying for it and ready for it. Meanwhile the scene, the talk,
+and she were full of interest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marry-me-quick's cottage was no hovel, either for size or appointments.
+Brocton was standing with his back to a dresser. On his left was the outer
+door, and on his right, between him and Mistress Waynflete, the door in
+the party wall leading to the back room where the rabbit-stew was now
+being dished up. Madam and I sat on opposite sides of the large hearth, a
+small round table, drawn close to the fire for comfort and covered with
+the supper things, occupied part of the space between us, but there was
+plenty of room for action. When Brocton had stretched out his rapier
+towards me in threat and command, the point was perhaps three feet from my
+breast, and he could master my slightest movement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Mistress Waynflete. At the bridge in the afternoon I had noticed that
+while danger for her father had stirred her heart to its dearest depth,
+danger for herself troubled her not one whit. When I looked at her now
+there was no fear in her face, which was calm as the face of a pictured
+saint, but I saw questionings there and knew they were of me. Plainly as
+if she spoke the words, her great blue eyes were saying, "Am I leaning on
+a broken reed?" As she caught my look she turned to Brocton, and I gritted
+my teeth and listened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So your lordship has found me!" She spoke easily and lightly. "How small
+the world must be since it cannot find room for me to avoid you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Say rather, dear mistress, that my love draws me unerringly towards you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought I gathered that there was another motive for your coming here
+to-night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Margaret, believe me, I am distraught," he said, not wholly in mockery
+it seemed to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So distraught, it seems, that you neglect your plainest duty as an
+officer in order to corrupt, if you can, a supposed country maiden, of
+whom you have heard by chance. His Grace of Cumberland will be glad to
+hear of such devotion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Won't you listen to me, Margaret? You know I love you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you were offering me, my lord, the only kind of love which an
+honourable man can offer, I should still refuse it. Your reputation,
+character, and person are all equally disagreeable to me, and that you
+should imagine that there is even the smallest chance of your succeeding,
+is an insult for which, were I a man, you should pay dearly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On the contrary, dear Margaret," he replied, in his most silken tones,
+plainly shifting to more favourable ground, "I fancy that the chance is by
+no means small."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your fancy does not interest me," was the cold reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Every woman has her price, if I may adapt a phrase of the late Sir
+Robert's, and I can pay yours. Excuse my frankness, Margaret. It would be
+unpardonable if we were not alone. Yon cattle-drover hardly counts as
+audience, I fancy, for he is already as good as strung up as a rebel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a long silence, so long that I tried to find an explanation of it,
+she said, "You refer to my father?" There was a quaver in her voice which
+all her bravery could not suppress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Exactly, Margaret, to your dear father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In times like this, no doubt, your conduct in arresting him will pass
+for legal, but fortunately some evidence will be required, and you have
+none. The fact is that in your loyal zeal you have acted too soon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought your daughterly instincts would be aroused," he answered,
+scoffing openly as he saw his advantage. "They have lain dormant longer
+than I expected. Believe me, Margaret, for my own purposes I have acted in
+the very nick of time, and you will do well to drop your unfounded hopes
+of the future. Your father's fate is certain if I act, for I can call a
+witness--you remember Major Tixall, a beery but insinuating person--whose
+evidence is enough to hang him fifty times over. Whether or not I produce
+it depends, as I say, on the depth of your affection for him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall know how to save my father, my lord, when the time comes. Now,
+perhaps, having played your last card, you will leave me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear Margaret," was the cool reply, "your innocence amazes me. My
+last card! Not at all, sweet queen. You are my last card."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I? How so?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You, too, are a rebel, if I choose to say the word, and a dangerous one
+to boot. So here's your choice: come where love awaits you or go where the
+gallows awaits you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And if I could so far forget my nature as to come where love of your
+sort, the love of a mere brute beast, awaits me, you would forget
+everything?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Everything, Margaret."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your duty to your King included?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly. There's nothing I will not do, or leave undone, at your
+behest for your fair sake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You flatter me, my lord, far above my poor deserts. And now, if your
+lordship will excuse me,"--she arose at the words, pale and determined as
+death,--"I will e'en go and give myself up to some responsible officer and
+acquaint him with your conduct."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He would not believe you, my sweet Margaret."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You forget I have a witness, my lord." For the first time during the
+conversation she looked across at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He would not be there to witness, Margaret. Surely you suppose that I am
+wise enough to prevent that move. Keep on sitting still, Farmer Oliver.
+I'm glad, believe me, to see you so interested. A difficult piece of
+virtue she is, to be sure, and if you could only escape a hanging, which
+you will not, you might have learned to-night a useful lesson in the art
+of managing a woman. It's an art, sir, a great, a curious art, and I
+flatter myself I am somewhat of a master therein."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this time he had kept me in his eye, and the point of his rapier was
+ready for my slightest move. It had grieved me to the heart to hear him
+shame this noble woman so, bargaining for her honour as lightly as a
+marketing housewife chaffers for a pullet. How she had felt it, I could
+judge in part by the deathly paleness of her face, and the tight hold she
+was keeping on herself. She dropped into her chair again and buried her
+face in her hands. He only smiled as one who presages a welcome triumph. I
+kept still and silent, never moving my eyes from his, praying and waiting
+for my second.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She raised her head and spoke again: "If I did not know you, my lord, I
+would plead with you. Two men's lives are in my hands, you say, and there
+is"--she paused--"but one way"--another terrible pause--"of saving them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You want me to throw in the cattle-drover?" he asked gaily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," she replied, in a scarcely audible whisper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's throwing in five hundred acres of land each of which my father
+values at a Jew's eye, let me tell you, but, egad, Margaret, you're not
+dear even at that. Run away home, Farmer Wheatman, and don't be fool
+enough to play the rebel again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sat still and silent. Speech was useless, and action not yet possible.
+That keen swordsman's eye must be diverted somehow. There was a God in
+heaven, and the rabbit-stew would be ready soon. It was useless to attempt
+to force matters. And as for his taunts, well, he was but feathering my
+arrows. So I sat on like a stone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go, Master Wheatman," she urged faintly, but I did not even turn to look
+at her. My heart was thumping on my ribs, my nerves tingling, my muscles
+involuntarily tightening for a spring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These yokels are so dull and lifeless, Margaret. He cannot understand
+our impatience." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crimson to the
+roots of her hair at this vicious insult. "Off, my man," he added to me,
+"or I'll prick your bull's hide." He thrust out his rapier to give point
+to the threat. Nothing moved me. My eyes were glued to his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now the door on his right hand opened, and little Mistress
+Marry-me-quick appeared with our supper. She saw the sword directed at the
+breast of the one man on earth she loved with all the fervour of her
+honest, womanly heart. The sight scattered her senses. With a
+nerve-racking shriek she flopped heavily to the floor, and the rabbit-stew
+flew from her hands and crashed loudly at his feet. It was too much for his
+wine-sodden nerves. His eyes turned, his body slackened, the point of his
+rapier flagged floorward. God had given me my second.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bounded at him, not straight, but somewhat to his left. He recovered,
+but, anticipating a straight rush, thrust clean out on the expected line
+of my leap. His blade ran through between my coat and waistcoat, and the
+guard thumped sore on my ribs. Then he was mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I struck hard on heart and belt and knocked the wind out of his body. He
+sucked for breath like a drowning man. Now he could not call for help, and
+I finished him off, quickly, gladly, and smilingly. His twitching fingers
+fumbled at his belt as if seeking a pistol. Finding none, he made no
+further attempt to defend himself, and covered his face with his arms to
+keep off my blows, but I struck him with such fierce strength on his
+unprotected temples that he weakened and dropped them. His ghastly,
+bleeding face turned upwards, his dazed eyes pleading for the mercy he had
+denied her a moment ago. It was brute appealing to brute in vain, and with
+one last blow on the chin that drove his teeth together like the crack of
+a pistol and nearly tore his head off his shoulders, I knocked him
+senseless to the floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His rapier hung in the skirt of my coat, so close had I been to sure and
+sudden death. I drew it out and tossed it to the floor at his side. "I
+wish, madam," said I, reaching out for mother's domino, "that we could
+have saved the rabbit-stew."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is he dead?" she whispered, with white lips, coming forward and looking
+shudderingly down on him with troubled eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No such luck," said I. "He may be round in five minutes, but that's
+enough, though poor little Marry-me-quick will have to be left to fend for
+herself." I helped her into the domino, pulled the hood over the wonderful
+hair, and seized my own hat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "the northern halt of Staffordshire is
+before us, and the sooner some of it is behind us the better." With these
+words I led her to the door, which I closed carefully behind me, and into
+the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A little explanation will make our subsequent movements clearer. The
+eastern side of Stafford is roughly bow-shaped. The main street is the
+straight string and the wood is the curve of the wall, now mostly fallen
+down and in ruins, the line of which was followed by the street we were
+in, and only some fifty yards from the southern end of the string. The
+marksman's thumb represents the market square, and the arrow the line of
+the east gate street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No cat in the town knew it better than I did, or could travel it better
+in the dark. Indeed, our only danger now came from the moon, but,
+fortunately, she had not yet climbed very high. Mistress Waynflete placed
+her arm in mine and we turned to the right, away from the still noisy and
+crowded main street. We passed an ale-house bursting with customers, the
+central figure among whom, plainly visible from the street, was Pippin
+Pat, an Irishman with so huge a head that he had become a celebrity under
+this name for miles around. He had made himself rolling drunk and,
+suitably to the occasion, had been made into a Highlander by the simple
+process of robbing him of his breeches and rubbing his head with ruddle.
+He was a sorry sight enough, but, the main thing, he had attracted an
+enormous company. I rejoiced to see him, for it meant that the wicket of
+his master's tanyard, half a stone's throw ahead, would be unbolted. This
+would save us a longish detour and lessen the danger of being observed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the tanyard gate, I tried the wicket. It was unbolted, as I
+had anticipated, and we were soon in the quiet and obscurity of the
+tanyard. The far side of the yard was separated by a low stone wall from
+the end of a blind alley leading into Eastgate Street. I guided my
+companion safely by the edges of the tan-pits, and on arriving at the
+wall, I made no apology but lifted her on to it. As she sat there a shaft
+of moonlight lit up her fine, brave face. I feasted my eyes upon it for a
+moment, and then made to leap over to assist her to the other side, but
+she stayed me with a hand on each shoulder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will go no farther, Master Wheatman," she said in a low, troubled
+voice, "till you forgive me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive you?" I cried, astounded. "Forgive you? What for?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For thinking meanly of you. I thought you were afraid of Brocton. Not
+until that lion leap of yours did I realize how cleverly and nobly you had
+sat there through his insults, foreseeing the exact moment when you could
+master him. My only explanation, I do not offer it as an excuse, is that
+the utter beast in Brocton makes it hard for me to think well of any man.
+Oh, believe me, I am ashamed, confounded, and miserable. Say you forgive
+me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," I said laughingly, "the next time I play the knight-errant, may
+God send me a less observant damsel. There's nothing to forgive. The plain
+truth is that I was frightened, a little bit. But I'm new to this sort of
+thing, and I hope to improve." Then, after a pause, I met her eyes full
+with mine and added, "As we go on."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Frightened," she said scornfully, "you frightened, you who leaped
+unarmed on the best swordsman in London? No, don't mock me, Master
+Wheatman, forgive me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course I do, and thank you for your kind words. And we've both got
+some one to forgive."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled radiantly--"Whom? And what for?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I leaped over the wall, and put my arms around her to lift her down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Marry-me-quick, for dropping the rabbit-stew."
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="7">CHAPTER VII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE RESULTS OF LOSING MY VIRGIL</h3>
+
+<p>
+We slipped down the blind alley and came out in the street leading to the
+East Gate. There was still great plenty of people strolling up and down,
+for night had not yet killed off the novelty and excitement caused by the
+arrival of the army. The smaller houses were crowded with soldiery,
+hob-nobbing with the folk on whom they were billeted, and all were yelling
+out, "Let the cannakin clink!" and other rowdy ditties in the intervals of
+drinking. At the East Gate itself, a fire blazed, and pickets warmed
+themselves round it, while along the street late-coming baggage and
+ammunition wagons were trailing wearily. It was idle to expect to pass
+unseen, so we plunged into the throng, threaded through the wagons, and
+skirted leftward till we arrived at a quieter street running down to the
+line of the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here every brick and stone was as a familiar friend, for the little
+grammar school backed on to the wall at the very spot where the main
+street led through the old north gate of the town. Old Master Bloggs lived
+in a tiny house on the side of the school away from the gate. There were
+the candles flickering in the untidy den in which the old man passed all
+his waking hours out of school-time, and there, I doubted not, they would
+be guttering away if the Highlanders sacked the town. I led the way across
+the little fore-court, paled off from the street by wooden railings,
+gently opened the door, and walked in to the dark passage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The study door was ajar, and we peeped in. There the old, familiar figure
+was, eyesight feebler, shoulders rounder, hair whiter, and clothing
+shabbier than of yore, crumpled over a massive folio. He was reading
+aloud, in a monotonous, squeaky half-pitch. Latin hexameters they were,
+for even his voice could not hide all the music in them, and as I listened
+it became clear that the old man had that night been moved to select
+something appropriate to the occasion, for he was going through the
+account of the fall of Troy in the second Aeneid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I put my fingers on my lips and crept on, followed by Mistress Waynflete.
+In the little back room I whispered, "My old school and schoolmaster. We
+will not disturb the old man. Poor little Marry-me-quick may have to
+suffer on our account, and old Bloggs shall at any rate have the excuse of
+knowing nothing about us. He's happy enough over the fall of Troy. Nothing
+that he can do can help us. Let him be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She nodded assent and I looked round. Opening a cupboard, I found half a
+loaf of bread, a nipperkin of milk, and a rind of cheese. "Eat," said I,
+"and think it's rabbit-stew." I made her take all the milk, but shared the
+bread and cheese. Troy went on falling steadily meanwhile, and when we had
+finished our scanty nuncheon I once more led the way, and we passed out
+into the little yard behind the schoolhouse, and gained the playground,
+the outer boundary of which was the town wall, here some twelve feet high
+and in a fair state of preservation. Many generations of schoolboys had
+cut and worn a series of big notches on each side of the wall, and by long
+practice I could run up and down in a trice to fetch ball or tipcat which
+had been knocked over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the bridge at the Hanyards onwards, Mistress Waynflete had always
+acted promptly and exactly to my wish. I felt a boor, and was in truth a
+boor, in comparison with her. Brocton's 'yokel blood' gibe had put murder
+into my blows, but it had truth enough in it to make it rankle like a
+poisoned arrow. Yet here was this wonder-woman, trustful as a child and
+meeker than a milkmaid. My work was new, but at any rate I had sometimes
+dreamed that I could do a man's work when I got my chance, and I had limbs
+of leather and steel to do it with. My thoughts, however, were newer
+still, and had no background of daydreams to stand against. Moreover,
+things had gone with such a rush that I had had no time to shake and sift
+them into order. At the foot of that wall all I knew, and that but dimly,
+was that there were thoughts that made a man's work the one thing worth
+living for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Get your breath, madam," said I. "You want it all now, and there's no
+need to hurry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She leaned easily against the wall, and peered round to make out her
+surroundings. The only result could be to give her the impression that she
+was cooped up like a rat in a trap, but with characteristic indifference
+for herself, she only said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And this was your school?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For many years, seven or more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was silent for a time and then went on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have led a quiet life, Master Wheatman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha," thought I, "she's gauging my capacity to help her," and added
+aloud, bitterly reminiscent, "The life of a yokel, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have read much?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I'm fond of reading. It passes the long winter nights."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And no doubt you know by heart the merry gests of Robin Hood and the
+admirable exploits of Claude Duval?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt her eyes on me in the dark, and longed for the sun so that I could
+see the blue glint in them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No such rubbish, indeed," said I hotly. It was a slight on Master
+Bloggs, droning away yonder at the fall of Troy, not to say the sweet old
+vicar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What then?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Livy and Caesar, and stuff like that, but mainly Virgil."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then it's very, very curious," she whispered emphatically.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No doubt yokel blood ought not to run like wine under the mighty pulse of
+Virgil, and I sourly asked, "What's curious, madam? Old Bloggs has nothing
+to teach except Latin, and I happened to take to it. Why curious?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Master Wheatman, not curious? Here we are in a narrow yard at
+the foot of a high wall. I'm perfectly certain that within five minutes I
+shall be whisked over to the other side. And you got that out of Virgil?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Straight out of Virgil, madam. Stafford was our Troy, and this the wall
+thereof. I've got in and out thousands of times."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She peered comically around the dark playground and said gaily, "I see no
+wooden horse. There should be one, I know. Master Dryden says so, and he
+knows all about Virgil."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poof," said I. "If old Bloggs heard you, he'd tingle to thrash you black
+and blue."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He couldn't now I've got my breath again," she laughed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm glad of that. Let me explain. Here is a ladder of notches in the
+wall, left and right alternately. Feel for them." She did so, and I went
+on: "They are roughly three feet apart on each side. I'll climb up first
+and assist you up the last few. Your skirts will trouble you, I fear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not much, for I'll turn them up." She promptly did so, and fastened the
+edges round her waist. She also discarded the long, cumbrous domino, and I
+took it from her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Watch me," said I, "and follow when I give the word. I'll have a look
+round first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Up I went, hand over hand, as easily as ever I had done it. I crouched
+down on the top of the wall, which, fortunately, lay in the shadow of the
+schoolhouse. I saw in the sky the reflected glare of a fire at the north
+gate, another picket I supposed, but there were houses without the gate,
+and these were dark and silent. There was no fear of our being observed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come!" I whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She started boldly and came up with cheering swiftness. I spread the
+domino in readiness, then stretched down to help her, and in another
+moment she was sitting the wall as a saddle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Splendid, for a novice," I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And a novice in skirts, short ones."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She went first down the other side, and I nearly pitched headlong in
+assisting her as far down as possible. She lowered her skirts while I
+followed and then I helped her into the domino, rejoicing in the silken
+caress of her hair on my hands as I arranged the hood, a pleasant piece of
+officiousness for which I got thanks I did not deserve, and off we started.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again she asked nothing as to what we were going to do and whither we
+were bound. The blazing windows of a comfortable inn might have been in
+sight for aught she cared to all outward seeming. Yet here she was, close
+on midnight, in bitterly cold weather, stepping out into rough and unknown
+country in company with a man she had only known a few hours.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went ahead and thought it over. For ten minutes we picked our way in
+the deep shadow along the foot of the wall, <i>per opaca locorum</i>, as
+the great weaver of words puts it, and then I turned outwards into the
+open field and the clear moonlight. Of her own accord she placed her arm
+in mine, and we stepped it out bravely together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are in unenclosed land here," I explained. "On our right is a patch
+which varies between bog and marsh and pool, according to the rains. The
+townsmen call it the King's Pool, whatever state it is in. Just ahead, you
+can see the line of it, is a little stream, the Pearl Brook. If it isn't
+frozen over yet, I can easily carry you across, as it's not more than six
+inches deep. The freemen of the Ancient Borough--yon little town has
+slumbered there nearly eight hundred years--have, by immemorial custom,
+the right of fishing in the Pearl Brook with line and bent pin."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They do not catch many thirty-pound jack, I suppose?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear me, no. But it was here I learned to like fishing, and I went on
+from minnows and jacksharps to pike."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And wandering damsels," she interrupted, with a laugh that sounded to me
+like the music of silver bells. A minute later, on the edge of the brook,
+she said vexedly, "And it's not frozen over." But I had already noticed
+that fact with great elation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not more than six inches, you say," she muttered, and made to step in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And if it were not so much as six barley-corns," I said, "I would not
+suffer you to wade it. What am I for, pray you, madam?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without more ado, I lifted her once more in my arms--the fourth time that
+day--and started. I cursed the narrowness of the Pearl Brook. I could
+almost have hopped across it, but by dawdling aslant the stream I had her
+sweet face near mine in the moonlight, and my arms round her proud body,
+for a couple of minutes. "Yokel blood or not," I thought, "this is
+something my Lord Brocton will never do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A quarter of an hour later, after helping her up a short, steep scarp, we
+stood and looked back on the little town. Its roofs were bathed in
+moonlight, and the great church tower stood out in grey against the
+blue-black sky. Patches of dull, ruddy glow in the sky marked the sites of
+the picket-fires, and there came to us, like the gibbering of ghosts in
+the wind, the dying notes of the day's excitement. To our left, bits of
+silver ribbon marked the twistings of the river, and that darker line in
+the distant darkness was the hills of my home and boyhood. At their feet
+was the Hanyards, and Kate and mother. There was a little mist in my eyes,
+and the eyes I turned and looked into were brimming with tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And now, Mistress Waynflete," said I, "let us on to our inn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our inn!" she echoed, and there was dismay in her voice. "Our inn, and I
+haven't a pennypiece. For safety, I put my hat, my riding jacket, and my
+purse under the bed at Marry-me-quick's, and the fight and hurry drove
+them out of my mind completely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I'm in the same case exactly," said I, and laughed outright. I had
+little use for money at the Hanyards, least of all in the pockets of my
+Sunday best, and not until she told me her plight did I realize the fact
+that in the elation of starting from home, I had forgotten that money
+might be necessary. Though I laughed, I watched her closely. Now she would
+break down. No woman's heart could stand the shock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My possessions," she said, "are precisely two handkerchiefs, one of
+Madame du Pont's washballs, and most of a piece of the famous
+marry-me-quick."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had been mistaken. She made no ado about our serious situation, but
+spoke with a grave humour that fetched me greatly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite a lengthy inventory," I replied. "My contributions to the common
+stock are--" and I fumbled in my pockets--"item, one handkerchief; item,
+a pocket-knife; item, one pipe and half a paper of tobacco; item, one
+flask, two-thirds full of Mistress Kate Wheatman's priceless peppermint
+cordial, the sovereign remedy against fatigue, cold, care, and the
+humours; item, something unknown which has been flopping against my hip
+and is, by the outward feel of it, a thing to rejoice over, to wit, one of
+Kate's pasties."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pushed my hand down for it, and then laughed louder than ever, as I
+drew forth my dumpy little Virgil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Item," I concluded, "the works of the divine master, P. Vergilius Maro,
+hidden in my pocket by that mischievous minx and monkey, Kate Wheatman of
+the Hanyards." And I told the story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then if Kate had not hidden your beloved Virgil, you would not have gone
+fishing?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sure I shouldn't."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Life turns on trifles, Master Wheatman, and to a pretty girl's sisterly
+jest I owe everything that has happened since I first saw you on the river
+bank."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We owe it, madam," I corrected gently, and I turned to go on, for I saw
+that she was moved and troubled at the evil she thought she had brought on
+me. Evil! I was enjoying every breath I drew and every step I took, and my
+heart was like a live coal in the midst of my bosom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have no fear, Mistress Margaret," said I cheerfully, sweeping my hand
+out. "There's broad Staffordshire before us, a goodly land full of meat
+and malt and money, and we'll have our share of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But you'll have to steal it for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Convey the wise it call," "I quoted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's better," and she smiled up at me in the moonlight. "Virgil puts
+you right above my poor wits, but say you love Shakespeare too, and we
+shall have one of the great things of life in common."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do, madam, but you must learn to rate things at their true value. You
+speak French?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh yes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And Italian?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And play the harpsichord?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, madam, I am a half-educated boor compared with you, for I know
+none of these things. But though I do not know the French or Italian for
+marry-me-quick, if you will get it out of your pocket, I'll show you the
+Staffordshire for half of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We marched on gaily for another quarter of an hour, eating the sweet
+morsel. Then I said, "Even an old traveller and campaigner like you will
+be glad to learn that our inn is at hand."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very glad, but I see no signs of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, no," said I, "it's not exactly an inn, but just a plain barn. You
+shall sleep soft and safe and warm, though, and even if we had money and
+an inn was at hand, it would be foolish to go there. Your case is hard,
+madam, and I wish I could offer you better quarters."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Under the shelter of a round knoll clumped with pines, lay an ancient
+farmhouse. We were approaching it from the front, and its sheds and barns
+were at the rear. We therefore turned into the field and fetched a
+circuit, and soon stood at the gate leading into the farmyard. No one
+stirred, not even a dog barked, as I softly opened the gate and crept,
+followed by Mistress Waynflete, to the nearest building. I pushed open the
+door, we entered a barn, and were safe for the night. The moon shone
+through the open door, and I saw that the barn was empty, probably because
+the year's crops, as I knew to my sorrow, had been poor indeed in our
+district. The fact that the barn was bare told in our favour, as no farm
+hand would be likely to come near it should one be stirring before us next
+morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A rick stood handy in the yard, and on going to it I found that three or
+four dasses of hay had been carved out ready for removal to the stalls. I
+carried them to the shed, one by one, and mighty hot I was by the time I
+dumped the last on the barn floor. Starting off again, I poached around in
+another shed, and was lucky enough to find a pile of empty corn sacks.
+Spreading these three or four deep in the far corner of the barn, I
+covered them thickly with hay, and having reserved a sack on purpose, I
+stuffed it loosely with hay to serve for a pillow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this busy time Mistress Waynflete stood on the moonlit door-sill,
+silent as a mouse, and when I stole quietly up to tell her all was ready,
+I saw that her hands were clasped in front and her lips moved. I bared my
+head and waited, for she had transformed this poor barn into a maiden's
+sanctuary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She turned her face towards me. "Madam," said I, very quietly, "your bed
+is ready, and you are tired out and dead for sleep. Pray come!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still silent, she stepped up and examined my rude handiwork. Then she
+curled herself up on the hay, and I covered her with more hay till she lay
+snug enough to keep out another Great Frost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good night, madam, and sweet sleep befall you," and I was turning away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ho!" she said, "and pray where do you propose to sleep?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall nest under the rick-straddle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," and her tone was almost unpleasant, "for the modesty you attribute
+unto me, I thank you. For the gratitude you decline to attribute unto me,
+I dislike you. But pray give me credit for a little common sense. I shall
+desire your services in the morning, and I do not want to find you under a
+rick, frozen to a fossil."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sprang out of bed, tumbling the hay in all directions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman, I will not pretend to misunderstand you, and indeed, I
+thank you, but you are going to put your bed here," stamping her foot, "so
+that we can talk without raising our voices. I am much more willing to
+sleep in the same barn with you than in the same town with my Lord
+Brocton. Where's your share of the sacks?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did without sacks, but I fetched more chunks of hay, and she helped me
+strew a bed for myself close up to her own. I tucked her up once more, and
+then made myself cosy. I was miserable lest I should snore. Yokels so
+often do. Joe Braggs, for instance, would snore till the barn door rattled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remembered the cordial, and we each had a good pull at the flask. I
+felt for days the touch of her smooth, soft fingers on mine as she took it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It certainly does warm you up," she said. "I feel all aglow without and
+within."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I may take it that you are comfortable?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If it were not for two things, I should say this was a boy-and-girl
+escapade of ours, every moment of which was just pure enjoyment."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Naturally you are uneasy about your father, but I cannot think he will
+come to any immediate harm. Why Brocton should send him north instead of
+south is, I confess, a mystery, but to-morrow will solve it. And what else
+makes you uneasy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You," she replied, very low and brief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I? And pray, madam, what have I done to make you uneasy?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Met me." Still the same tone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am not able to talk to you in the modish manner, nor do I think you
+would wish me to try to ape my betters, so I say plainly that our meeting
+has not made me uneasy. Why then you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Had you not met me, you would now be asleep at the Hanyards, a free and
+happy country gentleman. Instead you are here, a suspect, a refugee, an
+outlaw, one tainted with rebellion, the jail for certain if you are
+caught, and then--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She broke off abruptly, and I think I heard a low sob.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And then?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perhaps the gibbet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's true that the thieving craft is a curst craft for the gallows, but
+to-morrow's trouble is like yesterday's dinner, not worth thinking on. We
+are here, safe and comfortable. Let that suffice. And to-day, so far from
+doing harm at which you must needs be uneasy, you have wrought a miracle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wrought a miracle? What do you mean?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have found a cabbage, and made a man. Good night, Mistress Waynflete."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good night, Master Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I imitated the regular breathing of a tired, sleeping man. In a few
+minutes it became clear that she was really asleep, and I pretended no
+longer, but stretched out comfortably in the fragrant hay and soon slept
+like a log.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE CONJURER'S CAP</h3>
+
+<p>
+I awoke between darkness and daylight. Mistress Waynflete still slept
+peacefully and there was as yet no need to rouse her. I had slept in my
+shoes, but now, I drew them off, lifted the bar of the door, and stole out
+to look around. Not a soul was stirring about the farm, and the only
+living creature in sight was a sleepy cock, which scuttled off noisily at
+my approach. I entered a cowshed, where a fine, patient cow turned a
+reproachful eye on me, as if rebuking me for my too early visit. I
+cheerily clucked and slapped her on to her hoofs, and then, failing to
+find any sort of cup or can, punched my hat inside out and filled it with
+warm foaming milk. With this spoil I hurried back to our quarters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had to leave the door open, and this gave me light enough to look more
+closely at my companion. She was still sleeping, her face calmly content,
+and so had she slept through the night, for the coverlet of hay was rising
+and falling undisturbed on her breast. It was now time to wake her, and,
+having no free hand, I knelt down to nudge her with my elbow. As I did so,
+her face changed. A look of concern came over it, then one of hesitation,
+then a sweet smile, chasing each other as gleam chases gloom across the
+meadows on an April day. She was dreaming, dreaming pleasantly, and it was
+to a hard world that I awakened her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At my second nudge she half-opened her eyes and murmured, "It's very
+wide." Then my greeting aroused her fully, and she blushed wondrous red
+and beautiful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good morrow, Mistress Waynflete," said I. "I grieve to disturb you, and,
+pray you, do not move too abruptly or over goes the breakfast."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good morrow, Master Oliver," she replied. "I have slept well. I feel as
+if I've quite enjoyed it. We do enjoy sleep, I think, sometimes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Or the dreams it brings, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She glanced quickly at me, as if afraid that I had the power of reading
+dream-thoughts, and gaily said, "And breakfast ready! This is even better
+than the Paris fashion. What is it? More of dear Kate's cordial?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not know what the Paris fashion of breakfast was, and she did not
+enlighten me. Anyhow, I, the yokel, had improved on it, and that was
+something.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A far better brewage, madam," I said, "but you must pardon the
+Staffordshire fashion of serving it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sat up, took the cap, and drank heartily, the dawn still in her eyes
+and cheeks, and masses of yellow hair tumbling down from under her hood on
+throat and bosom. When she handed back the cap, I could not forbear from
+saying, "You look charming after your night's rest, and I profess that
+tear of milk on the tip of your nose becomes you admirably." With the rim
+of my cap at my lips, I added with mock concern, "Have a care, Mistress
+Waynflete, or you'll rub off tip as well as tear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose you thought 'As a jewel of gold' and the rest of it," she
+said, squinting comically down to examine her nose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, no, madam; I thought of nothing so scandalous, from the Bible
+though it be. I thought of--of...."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm all ears," she said archly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm a poor hand at turning compliments to ladies," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On the contrary, you turn them admirably. See!" She held up my sopping
+cap, and laughed merrily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's ruined for best," said I, "but it will do for market days. And now,
+madam, it's cold enough to freeze askers, as Joe Braggs says, and for
+toilet you must e'en be content with first a shiver and then a shake. I
+will await you at the yard gate, and pray close the door behind you. The
+quicker the better."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She rejoined me in two or three minutes. I closed the gate cautiously
+behind me, and we started our journey. From the farm we got away quite
+unobserved, but I looked behind me at every other step to make surer, till
+we turned the top of the knoll, and it was with great relief that I saw
+the chimney-pots sink out of sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a time we walked along briskly and in silence. So far I had carried
+everything with a high hand and successfully, but the cold grey of the
+morning began to creep into my thoughts as I looked ahead over miles and
+miles of dreariness and danger. Houses were few and far between; every
+village was a source of danger; the high roads were closed to us by our
+fear of the troops. Further, the object we had in view was vague and
+unformed, if not impossible of achievement, for even if we arrived at the
+very place where Colonel Waynflete was held prisoner, what could we do to
+help him? We should be safe from immediate need and danger if we could
+reach the Prince's army, but where that was, and which way it was
+travelling, were unknown to us. Certain it was that between us and any
+real help ranged some thirty miles of cold, bleak country packed with
+enemies for miles ahead. And here we were, on foot, penniless and hungry.
+I had longed for a man's work; this was a regiment's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A sidelong look at my companion drove all the mist and frost out of my
+heart. Something about her made me feel a sneak and a traitor even for
+harbouring such thoughts. From the first she had asked for no help of
+mine. I had forced it on her, or circumstances had forced me to help her
+in helping myself, as when I cut our way from Marry-me-quick's cottage.
+The more I was with her, the better I began to understand Brocton's
+madness. It was the madness of the mere brute in him to be sure, and a man
+should kick the brute in him into its kennel, though he cannot at times
+help hearing it whine. Her majestic beauty had dazzled him as a flame
+dazzles a moth, but at this stage, at any rate, it was not her beauty that
+made me her thrall. That I could have withstood. Because she was so
+beautiful, so stately, so compelling, she made no appeal to me. What I
+mean is, that I did not fall in love with her at first sight, simply
+because the mere stupidity of such a thing kept me from doing it.
+Glow-worms do not fall in love with stars or thistles with sycamores. She
+was something to be worshipped, served at any cost, saved at any
+sacrifice, but not loved. No, that was for some lucky one of her own class
+and state, not for a simple squireling like me. Her comradeship, her
+graciousness, her sweet equalizing of our positions, were, I felt, just
+the simple, natural adornments of the commanding modesty which was her
+spiritual garment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Manlike, however, I had an evil streak in me, and thence, later, came
+madness. In any company I must be top dog. I had been head of the school,
+not because of any special cleverness, but because I would burst rather
+than be second to anybody in anything. I had fought and fought, at all
+hazards, until not a boy in school or town dare come near me. So now,
+since my Lord Brocton--and many a lord beside, I doubted not--had failed,
+I must needs step in and say, "I will please her, whether she like it or
+not." And so, plain countryman as I was, I had done my work ungrudgingly
+but not, I feared, too modestly, and since I could not speak court-like, I
+had been over-masterful, and given her mood for mood, and turned no cheek
+for her sweet smiting. And as I had of old time licked every lad in
+Stafford, so now neither Staffordshire nor all the King's men in it should
+turn me back. Through she should go, and in safety and comfort, so that
+when the time came for me to hand over my precious charge to a worthier,
+she should say that the yokel had done a man's work and done it
+gentlemanly. Therefore, when Mistress Waynflete looked up to me from the
+bleak uplands with serious, questioning eyes, I said, as calmly as if we
+were pacing the garden at the Hanyards, with Kate and Jane active in the
+kitchen behind us, "Ham and eggs for breakfast!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't see any," she said, in answering mood, scanning the fields
+around us. "Not that that matters. I didn't see the steps, but they were
+there. You make me think, Master Wheatman, of a Turk I saw in a booth at
+Vienna, who drew rabbits and rose-bushes out of an empty hat.
+Staffordshire is your conjurer's hat. And I do like ham and eggs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My assurance and her comfortable belief in it made us both brighter, and
+we stepped out merrily. She gave me an entertaining account of Vienna,
+where she had spent some months, and which was then the great outpost of
+Christendom against the Turk. When this talk had brought us on to the
+field of Hopton Heath, I gave her the best account I could of the battle
+there in the Civil War time, and of the slaying of the Marquis of
+Northampton. And this led me on to my pride of ancestry, and I told her of
+Captain Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, a tower of strength to the
+Parliament in these parts, who fought here and later on Naseby Field
+itself. Many tales I told of him that had been handed down from one
+generation of us to another, and how so greatly was he taken with his
+incomparable lord-general that he had named his first-born son Oliver, and
+ever since there had been an Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. Then I told
+how one of these later Olivers, which one a matter of no consequence, had
+written verses and put them into the mouth of the doughty
+Smite-and-spare-not, sitting his horse, stark and strong, at the head of
+his men on Naseby Field, and gazing with grim, grey eyes on the opening
+movements of the fight. And, nothing loth, I trolled them out roundly
+across the meadows, till the peewits screamed and a distant dog began to
+bay:
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ "Princelet and king, and mitre and ring,<br>
+ Earl and baron and squire,<br>
+ Oliver worries 'em, harries and flurries 'em,<br>
+ With siege and slaughter and fire.<br>
+ With the arm of the Flesh and the sword of the Spirit,<br>
+ Push of pike and the Word,<br>
+ Smiting and praying, and praising and slaying,<br>
+ Oliver fights for the Lord.<br>
+ With the sword He brought the work is wrought,<br>
+ We finish here to-day.<br>
+ When yon rags and remnants of Babylon<br>
+ Are blown and battered away.
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ Hurrah for the groans of 'em, soon shall the bones of 'em,<br>
+ <i>Steady!</i> Hell-rakers at large,<br>
+ Rot under the sod. <i>Pass the word: 'God</i><br>
+ <i>Is our strength?'</i> There goes Oliver. <i>Charge!</i>"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I had done she applauded so that my face burned until I was
+discommoded and fell into her trap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish you'd written them, Master Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I did," said I grumpily, not liking to be bereft of any little
+glory in her eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What, you?" Her eyebrows arched and her lips curled. "You, oh, never.
+'Smiting and praying'? 'The arm of the Flesh and the sword of the
+Spirit.'" She mouthed the words deliciously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, doubtless, when you see my Lord Brocton again, you'll put in the
+Word and the praying." Here her sweet voice trailed off into a dainty
+snuffle: "'My dear lord, since out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
+proceedeth wisdom, hearken, I pray you, unto me, Oliver Wheatman, to wit
+of the Hanyards, and amend ye your ways lest I hit you over your cockscomb
+again, and very much harder than before. Repent ye, my lord, for the hour
+is at hand, and if you don't, I'll thump you into one of our Kate's
+blackberry jellies.' And here endeth the goodly discourse of that saintly
+rib-roaster, Master Hit-him-first-and-then-pray-for-him Wheatman of the
+Hanyards."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was simply glorious to be so tormented by this witch with the dancing
+blue eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For this scandalous contempt of the Muses," said I soberly, "I shall
+punish you by frizzling your share of the ham to a cinder."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During my schoolboy days I had roamed the countryside till I knew it as
+an open book, and this minute knowledge was our salvation now. The
+immediate need was food, and food obtained without price and without our
+being observed by anyone. At seven o'clock on a hard winter morning in
+open country, this seemed to require a miracle. As a matter of fact, it
+was as easy as shelling peas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since crossing the heath we had been travelling nearer to one of the main
+roads, that leading out of the east gate to the town, and now we got our
+first glimpse of it lying like a broad, brown ribbon half-way down the
+slope of a very steep hill. In the upper half, this hill was pretty well
+wooded and the road cut clean through the wood, but between us and the
+wood there lay the level crest of the hill, cut by hedges into several
+fields, and crossed by a rough cart-track leading past a roomy,
+one-storied cottage, grey-walled and brown-thatched, and on through the
+wood into the main road. The cottage, with its outbuildings, made a
+little farmstead, and here lived Dick Doley and his wife Sal, who did a
+little farming, but mainly lived by huckstering. Today was market-day at
+Stafford, and unless they had broken the routine of half a lifetime, they
+would now be packing their little cart with marketables and soon be off
+for the town. They had neither chick nor child, lad-servant nor lassie,
+and they would leave the cottage empty and at our disposal. At this time
+of the day I could, of course, have trusted both, but they were very human
+bodies of a sort to rejoice the business side of the heart of Joe Braggs,
+and it was best not to give them the chance of blabbing later in the day
+when, for a moral certainty, they would both be market fresh. Besides, it
+was unfair to thrust myself on the kindness of anyone. I had more than
+once wondered what had happened to poor little Marry-me-quick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I scrambled through the hedge and peeped down the road. I was right. Dick
+and his wife were busy loading up. So we waited behind the hedge till they
+had cleared off, and indeed did not move till I saw them and their cart
+pass along the road at the foot of the hill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time has not blurred the memory of a single detail of our stay in this
+welcome house of refuge, but the telling of what was moving and charming
+to me would, I fear, bore others. There was a ham, two indeed, and
+flitches beside, in the rack hanging from the ceiling, and there were eggs
+--three, to be precise--in the larder, to which, by equal good luck
+considering the time of the year, I added two more by a raid into the
+hen-house. It was all natural and simple enough, but Mistress Waynflete
+hailed their production almost as amazedly as if I had indeed drawn them
+out of my hat. But how I fetched and carried, chopped wood and drew water,
+swept the floor and laid the table, fried ham and boiled eggs, doing all
+these things with music in my heart and a noisy song on my lips--is
+everything to me and nothing to my tale.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mistress Waynflete had disappeared into one of the three or four rooms of
+which the house consisted, to make herself presentable, as she absurdly
+put it. When the table was laid and the ham cooked, I halloed the news to
+her, and rushed off to the shed to attend to my outward appearance. I did
+want it, being indeed not far short of filthy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps I hurried unexpectedly. At any rate, on returning I found
+Mistress Waynflete bending over something on the hearth. Straightening
+herself hastily, and with a pretty confusion, at my approach, she cried,
+"Oh, Master Oliver, the ham was burning, and you threatened my share of
+it, you know!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could not reply. Down to her hips her rich amber hair flowed like a
+bridal veil, and from amid a wealth of snowy lace, fluttering on the orbed
+glory of perfect womanhood, her neck rose smooth and stately as a shaft of
+alabaster. Her cheeks crimsoned with maiden shamefastness, but the blue
+eyes met mine without a hint of maiden fear, and for that thanks as well
+as reverence filled my heart as I bowed to her. Maidenlike, she drew her
+golden veil more closely over her bosom, and tripped back to finish her
+toilet, leaving me amated and abashed by the vision I had beheld. I think
+it was from that moment that my joy in my work began to be mingled with
+the despair of my love. Certainly it was a chastened Oliver Wheatman who
+placed a chair for her when she came in again for breakfast, and helped
+her to the good things a kindly fortune had provided.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is my belief that each of us was secretly amused at the steady zeal
+with which the other attacked the meal. We wrangled over the odd egg, each
+insisting on the other having it, she because I was strong, and needed it,
+I because I was strong and could do without it, and finally adopted the
+usual compromise. We had more than gone round the clock with barely a
+mouthful, and we ate as those who know not where the next meal's meat is
+to come from. Frankly, I, at any rate, gave myself a fair margin before
+the pinch should come again, and Mistress Waynflete averred that she had
+never in her life before eaten so much or so toothsomely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our meal over, I stacked the fire with fresh logs, asked and obtained
+permission to smoke a pipe, and made my sweet mistress cosy in the
+chimney-corner. Then we began to take stock of our position.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's no good to come of hurrying," said I. "Here we are both snug and
+safe, and your night's rest was but short. Let us see where we stand."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not really believe that any amount of talking would help much, but
+repose would do her good, and I had a big idea running in and out of my
+mind. Our first difficulty, food and rest, had been overcome, and I was
+bent on mastering the next. No amount of discussion gave us any key to the
+one great mystery. When Brocton had captured Colonel Waynflete at Milford,
+the obvious thing to do with him was to send him prisoner to the Duke at
+Lichfield. Though the Colonel carried no papers which made his purpose
+clear, Brocton knew well what the object of his journey was, and the
+suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act put the Colonel in his power. Or, he
+might have carried him before a justice of the peace, his friend Master
+Dobson for choice, and had him committed to the town jail. The course
+actually taken, that of sending him ahead, under guard, in the very van of
+the royal army, was to us utterly inexplicable. His mad lust for Mistress
+Margaret explained the separation of father and daughter. The thought did
+occur to me, though I took great care not to hint at it, that he intended
+to make away with the Colonel, and looked to finding tools among his
+blackguardly dragoons and an opportunity when in actual conflict with the
+Highlanders. I hesitated, however, to believe that Brocton was such a
+villain as to commit an unnecessary murder. The plan he had adopted had,
+anyhow, this advantage to us that, when we did come into touch with the
+prisoner, our chances of assisting him were far greater than if he were in
+jail in Stafford or Lichfield.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whatever my lord's motives were, it was clear that he was not acting in
+the plain, straight-dealing manner to be expected of one in his position.
+There were other signs of crookedness, slight but not without weight. I
+could understand his joy on finding me at Marry-me-quick's. It meant that
+I was a rebel, and as a loyal man, who had gone to expenses to prove his
+loyalty, he might easily get the Hanyards as a reward, and thus round off
+the family property in our neighbourhood. His reference to a "solatium"
+puzzled me, but it did not seem anything of consequence. What had I but
+the Hanyards to solace him with? A more important puzzle had been his
+behaviour at Master Dobson's. To find me on the royal side, as he then
+supposed, and to hear my reason for it, had clean dazed him. Then there
+was the look, a signal-look beyond a doubt, which I had surprised him
+giving his bully, Major Pimple-face, and which was followed by the
+latter's attempt to embroil the stranger from London in a row.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is useless, Master Wheatman, to speculate further on what Lord
+Brocton is doing," said my mistress at last. "He has his ends. I am one of
+them. Another is, no doubt, to fill his pockets, somehow or other. It was
+common talk in town that he was head over ears in debt."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While we had talked and had rested, I had not been idle. Dick Doley's
+roomy kitchen had two windows, one overlooking the cart-track, and another
+the slope of the hill. The hill was so made and the house so placed that
+from this second window we could see the strip of road at the bottom of
+the hill where it curved on to the level again. I had kept a sharp look
+out on that bit, but had seen no one pass along it either way as yet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In one corner of the room Dick kept an ancient fowling-piece, more of a
+tool of husbandry than a weapon, since his only use for it was to scare
+birds. It was a heavy, unhandy thing, with a brass barrel down which I
+could have dropped a sizable duck egg, and round its thick-rimmed nozzle
+some one had rudely graven, "Happy is he that escapeth me." I fetched it
+out of its corner, and cleaned and oiled it. I now loaded it, for
+powder-horn and shot-bag hung near it on the wall, putting in a handful
+of the biggest sort of shot, swan-shot as I should call them. During this
+task, Mistress Waynflete watched me narrowly, but made no reference to it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now," said I, "our main requisite is the stuff, the ready, the rhino,
+the swag--call it what you will. How do you fancy me as a knight of the
+road? The first copper-faced farmer I come across shall surely stand and
+deliver. Here's an argument he cannot resist."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last my scrutiny of the road was rewarded. A solitary horseman came in
+sight from the direction of the town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mistress Waynflete," said I, picking up the fowling-piece, "there's a
+traveller yonder coming from Stafford. It will be well if I go and ask him
+a few questions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She almost leaped at me, red anger flashing in her eyes but her face
+white as milk. "Sir," she said, "you shall not turn thief for me. I will
+not have it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pray, madam," replied I huffily, "expound the moral difference between
+stealing ham and stealing guineas. I'm all for morality."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I cannot, Master Wheatman, but you must not, shall not go." She caught
+hold of my sleeve. "Say you won't! If you are found out it means--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall not be found out. You may take that for sure. Think you that I
+cannot pluck yon chough without being pinched? It's no more robbery than
+our eating Dick's ham and eggs. We are soldiers in enemy's country, and we
+plunder by right of the known rules of war. As a concession to your
+prejudices in favour of the jog-trot morality of peace, I will e'en ask
+him whether he be for James or George, and borrow or command his guineas
+in accordance with his reply. Loose my sleeve, madam!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I loosened the grip of her fingers, and led her back to her chair. "You
+overrate my danger, sweet mistress, and under rate our need. Without
+money, we might as well lie under the nearest hedge and leave Jack Frost
+to settle matters his way, and a cold, nasty way it would be. Your guinea
+is a good fighter, and we need his help. It must be done, and, never fear,
+I'll carry it through safely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So I left her, white hands grappling the arms of her chair, and white
+face turned away from me.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="9">CHAPTER IX</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MY CAREER AS A HIGHWAYMAN</h3>
+
+<p>
+I left the cottage from the rear and struck slantwise across the fields
+to reach the shelter of the trees and undergrowth that covered the slope
+down to the road. I ran hard so as to shake irresolution out of my mind,
+for I found myself half wishing that Mistress Waynflete had pleaded with
+me at first instead of trying to thrust me out of my plan. After all the
+highwayman's was hardly my calling in life. So I ran hard, saying to
+myself that it must be done, and the sooner it was over the better. Then I
+laughed. With my rusty old birding-piece I was as ill-equipped for
+highwaymanship as I was for farming with my Georgics. "Stand and deliver,"
+quoth I to myself, "or I'll double your weight with swan-shot." Were the
+unknown horseman a resolute man armed with a hair-trigger, I was as good
+as done for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived in the shelter of the wood, I began picking my way through the
+thick undergrowth towards the road. Fallen branchlets snapped beneath my
+heedless feet and the sounds rang in my ears like pistol-shots. A saucy
+robin cocked his care-free eye on me from the top of a crab-tree, and I
+could have envied him as I stumbled by. It was perhaps fourscore yards
+through, and half-way I stopped to listen. Yes, there came to my ear the
+slow trot-ot-ot of hoofs on the hard road. I went on again until, through
+the leafless tangle, I began to get glimpses of the highway. My fate was
+dragging me on. In a month's time my shrivelling carcase might be swinging
+in chains on the top of Wes'on Bank, an ensample to evil-doers. The
+thought made me shiver, and I jerked out a broken prayer that my intended
+victim might turn out some fat, unarmed farmer, as easy a prey as an
+over-fed gander. Then I cursed myself for a fool. No man can mortgage past
+piety for present sin. Who was I that I should be allowed to steal on good
+security?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Trot-ot-ot. Trot-ot-ot. He was within easy shot now, and I stopped to
+make sure of my rickety old weapon. A dragoon's musket would not have
+needed such constant care. "Life turns on trifles," said Mistress
+Waynflete.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In lifting my eyes from the priming to move on again, something in the
+line of vision made me start. On my left, less than a dozen paces from me,
+there lay on the ground, on a clean patch beneath a conspicuously-forked
+hawthorn, a man's jacket and plumed hat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A lion playing with a lamb would not have given me pause more abruptly. I
+stole silently up to them. They were fine but somewhat faded garments,
+modish and even foppish, and, so far as I could distinguish any
+peculiarity, military in appearance, and evidently belonged to a person of
+some quality. Nor had they been flung there in haste, for the coat was
+neatly folded and the hat disposed carefully on top of it. How long had
+they been there? I picked up the hat, and there was still the gloss of
+recent sweat on its inside brim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This, however, was no time for idle problems, a very urgent one being on
+hand. Forward I crept to the side of the road, and, lying flat down on the
+ground, pushed the stock of my gun on to the short grass, and peeped
+cautiously to my right down the hill. I was about thirty or forty yards
+from a bend in the road, and had intended to be much less, but my
+discovery and my confused, half-conscious thinking about it, had deflected
+me a little from my course.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Trot-ot-ot. He would be in sight in a few seconds. Trot-ot-ot, plainer
+than ever, and there he was. The moment that he was in full view I made an
+astonishing discovery, and saw an astonishing sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The discovery was that the solitary horseman, walking his powerful grey
+with a slack rein, and lost in thought, was Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sight was the rush of three men from their lurking-places in the
+brushwood. Two of them were soldiers, and Brocton's dragoons at that, a
+sample of the town-sweepings Jack had complained of. One seized the reins,
+the other held a carbine point-blank at the horseman's head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were plainly deserters or freebooters, acting after their kind, and
+they had picked up a strange partner during their foray. He wore a yokel's
+smock much too big for him, and yet not big enough to hide his bespurred
+riding-boots. On his head he had a dirty tapster's bonnet, and his face
+was completely hidden by a rudely-cut crape vizard. This singular person
+was evidently the leader of the gang. He threatened Master Freake with a
+glittering, long-barrelled pistol, and in gruff, curt tones ordered him to
+dismount on pain of instant death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here was a strange overturn to be sure. Here again fate had rudely upset
+my plans, and no fat purse would there be for me in this coil. However,
+though I would have robbed Master Freake willingly enough, my blood being
+up and he a manifest Hanoverian, I was not going to see Brocton's ruffians
+rob him, much less kill him. The purse must wait, and when I took it--for
+take it I must--God would perchance balance one thing against the other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All that I had seen and thought took place in a mere fraction of time,
+and even before Master Freake had pulled up, I was creeping like a ferret
+from bush to bush to get nearer. Then, just as in his quiet, measured
+tones he was asking what they wanted, I burst out into the wood, shouting,
+"Forward, my men, here the villains are!" With the words, I fired my
+handful of swan-shot clean into the group, and then charged at them
+yelling, in boyish imitation of a knight of old, "Happy is he that
+escapeth me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two dragoons instantly fled with yelps of pain and terror, and the
+horse, squealing with fright, began to rear and plunge madly about the
+road. Black Vizard turned on me, his pistol rang out, and the bullet
+hissed by my ear. I sprang at him with clubbed gun, and struck hard for
+his head, but caught him on the neck as he too turned to flee. He went
+down, spinning and sprawling, in the road, right under the plunging horse.
+With a squeal that curdled my blood, she rose in the air, kicking
+viciously. Her hoofs came down with sickening thuds on the squirming man's
+skull, cracking it like an egg-shell. His body twitched once or twice, and
+then settled into the stillness of death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I seized the horse's rein and soothed her. She let me pat her neck and
+rub her nose, and soon stood quiet, her neck flecked with foam, her flanks
+reeking with sweat. Master Freake, who had not spoken a word, dismounted,
+and I led the mare into the wood and hitched her reins over a bough. Then
+I returned to the man I had saved, and found him looking calmly down on
+the man I had killed. The black vizard was now soaking in a horrid pool of
+blood and brains. I stooped, and with trembling fingers moved it aside and
+revealed the features of the dead man. It was the pimple-faced Major.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turned to my intended victim, and found him looking calmly and
+impassively at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman of the Hanyards, unless I am mistaken," he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your servant, sir," said I, rather sourly. But for that dead rascal at
+our feet I could beyond a doubt have plucked him like a chough, and here I
+was, still penniless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman, I am not a man of many words, but what I say I stand
+by. I am your very grateful debtor for a very fine and courageous action.
+Three to one is long odds, but you won with your brains, sir, as much as
+by your bravery. Your shout was an excellent device, happily thought on."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He held out his hand. I shook it heartily and then burst out laughing,
+and laughed on till tears stood in my eyes. And this was the end of my
+highwaymanship!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Since the danger is, thanks to you, over, Master Wheatman," he said, "I
+would e'en like to share your mirth--if I may."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," I replied, "I am laughing because I have saved you from robbers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But why laugh?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because I set out ten minutes ago to rob you myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake gazed casually up and down the hill, and then, fixing his
+quiet grey eyes on me, said whimsically, "I am a man of peace, and
+unarmed; the road is of a truth very lonely, and I have considerable sums
+of money on me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, I'm quite vexed. This fire-faced scoundrel has upset my plans
+finely. I may not get as good a chance for hours."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now it was his turn to laugh. "Master Wheatman," he said, "you are not
+the stuff highwaymen are made of. As you are in need of money, you need it
+for some good purpose, and I shall--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stopped short. As we stood, he was facing the wood from which the
+robbers had burst on him, while I had my back on it. As he stopped, his
+strong, calm face changed, and his eyes were fixed on something in the
+wood. Wonder, amazement, delight, awe--not one, but all of these emotions
+were visible in his face. He looked as one who sees a blessed spirit. I
+turned. It was Margaret, leaning, pale and spent and breathless, against
+the trunk of a tree, looking and shuddering at the dread object in the
+road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bounded up to her and touched her on the arm. "All's well, Mistress
+Waynflete," said I. "I am as yet no gallows-bird."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But--" Her eyes were still staring wide on the road, and she trembled
+violently, so I stepped between her and the ghastly sight, and said,
+"Courage, dear lady. The dead man is your father's worst enemy, Major
+Tixall, and yon horse killed him, not I."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this, Master Freake had come nearer to us, and I turned to greet him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," said I, "this is my friend, Master Freake, whom I set out to
+rob." To him I added, "This is Mistress Waynflete, whom I have the honour
+to serve."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bared his head and bowed. "And whom I hope to have the honour of
+serving too."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked at him curiously. All other emotions had faded from his face
+now, but it was clear that her peerless and now so helpless beauty had
+appealed home to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," she said, recovering herself with a great effort, "I am pleased to
+make your acquaintance. And now,"--speaking to me,--"since you have given
+me a great fright and made me behave like a milkmaid rather than a
+soldier's daughter, perhaps you will tell me what has happened, and how
+it"--she looked over my shoulder--"comes to be lying there. I heard shots
+and shrieks that turned me to stone. What has happened?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman," said our new acquaintance, taking my words out of my
+mouth, "is hardly likely to give you a reasonably correct account. Allow
+me to be the historian of his fine conduct." He told the story with
+overmuch kindness to me, and as he told it the colour came back to her
+face, and she was herself again. While he was telling it, I noticed for
+the first time, or rather for the first time gathered its meaning, that
+she had run out after me without the domino, and in the biting air she
+might easily catch a chill. So while Master Freake was making a fine
+sprose about me, much more applicable to Achilles or the Chevalier Bayard,
+I slipped off and fetched the hat and coat. He was just concluding his
+story on my return, and without interrupting him, I clumsily thrust the
+hat on her head and flung the coat over her shoulders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Freake," she said, in her sweetest bantering tones, "my servant,
+as he absurdly calls himself, is really an artist in helping people. I
+told him this morning that his native shire was his conjurer's hat, when
+he fetched ham and eggs out of it for poor hungry me. Now he observes that
+I am coatless and a-cold, and lo, a hat is on my head and a coat on my
+shoulders. It is marvellous and nothing short of it. Nay, I shall shun him
+as one in league with the powers of darkness if there's much more of it.
+If I be saved, you remember Master Slender,"--this in a sly aside to me,
+--"I'll be saved by them that have the fear of God."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ingrate!" I cried, half angry and yet wholly delighted; "what of marvel
+or devilment is there in picking up a hat and coat one has found lying
+under a tree?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Major Tixall's," said Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ass that I am, of course they are. Steady, Mistress Margaret, while I go
+through the pockets. The odds are we shall find something useful in
+checkmating my Lord Brocton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this I was wrong, for there was not a single scrap of writing in any
+of them. I did, however, fish out two small but heavy packets, wrapped in
+paper. They were easily examined, and each contained a roll of ten guineas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The hire of the two rascals," explained Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, Mistress Margaret," said I, "there's something in what you said
+just now. I do have his nether highness's own luck. I came out for
+guineas, prepared to rob for them, and here's twenty of the darlings lying
+ready for me to pick up. Now we can go ahead in comfort."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through all this talk I was turning over in my mind what account, if any,
+we were to give Master Freake of our being here. If I had had only myself
+to consider I should have trusted him without hesitation. He was the sort
+of man that inspires confidence, his grave, serene, intelligent face
+having strength and steadfastness written in every line of it. But I had
+Mistress Waynflete to consider, and if any appeal was to be made for his
+assistance, she must make it. I'm afraid that I hoped she wouldn't, since
+I was jealous of any interference in my temporary responsibility for her
+welfare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Freake," I said, "some account will, I suppose, have to be given
+of yon ruffian's death. The two runaways are scarcely likely to appear as
+witnesses, so, for Mistress Waynflete's sake, I must ask you, should an
+explanation become necessary, to conceal my share in the matter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The manner of his death is fortunately quite obvious, and if it were
+not, any account I choose to give of it will pass unquestioned."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then it will be easy for you, I hope, to forget me when giving it. And
+now, madam, I think we must be moving."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Before you go," said Master Freake, "let me say again that if I can help
+you, you have only to ask. You, Master Wheatman, because your twofold
+signal service is something it would shame me for ever not to be allowed
+to return, and you, madam, because," he paused, and the curious rapt
+expression came over his face again, "because you are very beautiful and
+need help. Your father's politics will make no difficulty, so far as I am
+concerned."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know my father?" she asked, surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Know of him. My Lord Brocton was boasting last night of his capture--and
+of other things," he lamely concluded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is he boasting this morning?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have not seen him," he said, "but Mistress Dobson told me she thought
+he'd been rooks'-nesting and had fallen off the poplar."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I met him again," said I, "and did not like his conversation."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman means," explained Mistress Waynflete, "that he saved me
+from my Lord Brocton's clutches at the imminent risk of his own life." She
+stretched out her hands and touched the holes in my coat with her white,
+slender fingers. "My lord's rapier made these," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An inch to the left, my friend," quoth Master Freake, "and you'd have
+been as dead as mutton. His lordship, it seems, is busily piling up a big
+account with both of us. Well, in my own way, I'll make the rascal pay as
+dearly as you have in yours. If you will be pleased to accept my help,
+madam, I will do all I can for you. There are, fortunately, other means
+than carnal weapons of influencing such persons as Lord Brocton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Like Master Wheatman, sir, you are too good to a poor girl." She said it
+gratefully and humbly, and indeed so she felt, but no man could listen to
+her meek words without pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm glad I turned footpad, in spite of you," said I to my dear mistress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can never thank you enough," was the simple reply. "It was wicked in
+me to accept the sacrifice, but in God's good providence it was not made
+in vain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I come into the firm," said Master Freake smilingly, and when,
+catching the meaning of his metaphor, she smiled brightly back at him, and
+held out her hand, he bowed over it formally, but very kindly, and kissed
+it. She blushed prettily, and then, after a moment's hesitation,
+stretching it out to me, said, "But I must not forget the original
+partner." I took the splendid prize in my rough, red, farmer's hand, and
+kissed it reverently. The touch of my lips on her sweet, smooth flesh made
+me tremble, and I knew the madness was creeping over me, but I gritted my
+teeth, and our eyes met again. The blush had gone, but not the smile. It
+was not now, however, the smile of a frank maiden but of an inscrutable
+and dominating woman. I knew the difference, for instinct is more than
+experience, and I chilled into the yokel again and wondered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In one sense, at any rate," said Master Freake, "I am the senior
+partner, and as such may, without presumption, speak first. I must go on
+to Stone, but that will, I think, be best for our purpose. As I view the
+situation, two things are requisite, first that you, Master Wheatman,
+should get Mistress Waynflete in advance of all the royal troops, and so
+out of danger, and secondly that we should learn precisely what has become
+of Colonel Waynflete."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Exactly," I agreed. "The action of Lord Brocton in sending the Colonel
+north instead of south, or at least of lodging him in jail at Stafford, is
+inexplicable. True, his plan separates father and daughter, which is what
+he wants, but either of the other methods would have served equally well
+for that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course I said nothing of the other idea that was haunting my thoughts,
+the idea that Brocton was scheming to get rid of the Colonel altogether.
+In his lust and anger he might not stick at that, and any kind of
+encounter with the enemy would serve his turn. The rascals under him were
+worthy of their commander, a fact of which we had already ample proof.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It looks crooked, I confess," was his reply, "but there is this to be
+said for it, that the Duke is following north along with the bulk of his
+army, and, I hear, intends to make Stone his head-quarters."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That seems absurd," said I, "but of course he knows best."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The movements of the Prince's army are uncertain. The plan of their
+leaders is never to say where the next halt will be. They will be to-day,
+I know, in or near Macclesfield, and I learn that it is possible they may
+turn off for Wales, where they believe they will find many recruits. The
+farther north the Duke can safely go, the better placed he will be for
+checking them if they do that, and his advance guard is posted at
+Newcastle. The question is, how are you to get there first and without
+being taken?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By travelling the by-roads," said I. "We'll go through Eccleshall."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How long will it take you to get there?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"About three hours," said I, "if Mistress Waynflete can stand the pace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very good," he replied. "I will join you there, and do my best to get
+horses for you in the meantime, and bring them along with me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's splendid," said I, "but I'd rather we met outside the village.
+Not more than a mile and a half beyond it on the Newcastle road there's a
+little wayside ale-house called the 'Ring of Bells,' at the foot of a
+steep hill, with a large pool ringed with pines, known as Cop Mere, in
+front of it. It's a lonely place and will serve better. Small place as
+Eccleshall is, I shall skirt round it, and so get to the 'Ring of Bells.'
+You cannot miss it if you ride through the village on the Newcastle road.
+Whoever's there first will await the other."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then in about three hours we'll meet at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I hope
+I shall bring good news of the Colonel. Believe me, dear lady, short of
+foul play on Brocton's part, and we have no reason to suspect that, your
+father will be all right. Plain John Freake is not without influence. As
+for the ruffian lying dead in the road, think no more of him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So saying he unhitched his horse, led her into the road, and mounted. He
+bowed and smiled, said cheerily, "A pleasant walk to the 'Ring of Bells,'"
+and cantered off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stepped between madam and the dead man. "We've found a good friend
+there, Mistress Waynflete. Now we'll put the hat and coat as we found
+them, save for the guineas, and go back to the cottage for your domino."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gave them to me, and stepped out briskly towards the cottage. I
+folded up the coat, put the hat on it, looked again at the still, stiff
+horror in the road, soaking in its own blood, and silently followed her.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="10">CHAPTER X</a></h2>
+
+<h3>SULTAN</h3>
+
+<p>
+The lie of the land was as follows: To get to the "Ring of Bells," Master
+Freake would have to ride over the hill to the main road at Weston, thence
+some six miles north-west to Stone, thence another six or seven miles
+south-west to the inn. Mistress Waynflete and I had a stiff walk of about
+nine miles in front of us. For the first three miles our way ran east by
+north, and then bent almost due east to the ale-house. Our difficulty
+would come at the bending point, for there we should have to cross the
+main road from Stafford along which the troops would be filtering north to
+get into touch with the Prince and his Highlanders. If the Duke had heard
+of the supposed intention of the Jacobites to turn off for Wales, he
+would, I imagined, send a scouting party through Eccleshall to look out
+for them, and we should, for the second time in our journey, be on
+dangerous ground in the neighbourhood of that village. The "Ring of
+Bells," however, lay north of that village, off his obvious line of march
+in that direction, so that we stood a good chance of passing unchecked to
+our goal, provided that we got across the main road north in safety.
+Fortunately, at the place where I intended to cross, it climbed over a
+fairly steep hill, and we could, if need were, lie and watch the road till
+it was safe to venture out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was ticklish work at the best and any break in our run of luck might
+ruin us. How ticklish was vividly brought home to me within a few minutes
+of our getting safe under cover in the cottage. I had, of course, brought
+back the birding-piece and, after once more helping in the blissful task
+of getting Mistress Waynflete into the domino, bungling as usual over
+arranging the hood because my fingers lost control of themselves at the
+touch of her hair, I sat down to reload it, intending to carry it with me.
+I had settled matters with the absent gaffer, Doley, by putting one of my
+guineas conspicuously on the table, and was just finishing my task when
+Mistress Waynflete, who had stepped to the rear window and was looking
+back on the scene of my recent exploit, suddenly called out, "Oliver! Come
+here!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My heart leaped within me at that 'Oliver.' True, it was the familiarity
+of one born to command, one who had last night icily desired my services
+in the morning, and, womanlike, knew that she could queen it over me as
+she listed, but still, and this was the main thing, it was familiar and
+friendly, and seemed to lift me a shade nearer to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it, madam?" I asked respectfully, and ran toward her, but not so
+swiftly that I had not time to see the blue eyes fixed hard on mine. For
+answer, she turned and pointed down the hill, and there I saw the patch of
+brown road covered with wagons and soldiers. In five minutes they would
+come across the dead body of the Major.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good," said I indifferently, "they save me a guinea," and I put the coin
+back in my pocket. The soldiers didn't matter, but that look in her eyes
+did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Isn't that rather mean?" For some reason she spoke quite snappily. The
+soldiers clearly didn't matter to her, and something else did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Which of the soldiers provided our breakfast, madam? We might as well
+leave a note asking them to pick us up at the 'Ring of Bells.' And, madam,
+you can trust me to make Dick Doley content enough some day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She smiled, with her characteristic touch of chagrin. I liked her best
+so, for she never looked daintier. "With a bit of luck, Master Wheatman,"
+she said whimsically, "there will surely come a time when you'll be wrong
+and I right. Then, sir, look out for crowing. I've never been so unlucky
+with a man in my life. But you'll slip some day!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Surely, madam," I said, and smiled, "and then I'll abide your gloating.
+Now, pray you, let us be off. We've hardly a minute to spare."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without losing another second we started on our long walk. It was now
+about ten of the clock. The sun was shining cheerily, with power enough to
+melt the white rime off every blackened twig it lit upon, and it was still
+so cold that sharp walking was a keen delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Eight miles and more of it, Mistress Waynflete. I hope you can stand the
+pace and the distance."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," she replied curtly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The vicar was right. "Oliver," he said to me one day, "what is the
+difference between the Hebrew Bible and a woman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, gaping with astonishment, "I know not, but of a truth it
+seems considerable."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is, Oliver," replied the sweet old scholar. "Man can understand the
+one in a dozen years, if he try, but the other not in a lifetime, strive
+he as earnestly as he may."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fragment of my dear friend's talk came back to me now as we walked
+in silence side by side. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her sweet
+face set in earnest thinking, her rich lips compressed, her speaking eyes
+fixed resolutely ahead. Not having to trouble about finding the road, and
+there being no sign of anyone, either enemy or neutral, stirring on the
+countryside, I let her go on thinking, and set myself the pleasant but
+impossible task of accounting to myself for her mood. I went over all we
+had said and done together that day, and at last, after perhaps half an
+hour of unbroken silence, fell back on what seemed the only possible
+explanation. She was thinking of her father. But why that suspicion of
+asperity on her face? Was this explanation correct?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The vicar was right. She suddenly slipped her hand round my arm, looking
+at me with laughing lips and dancing eyes, and said, "Isn't it splendid to
+be alive on a day like this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed it is," I replied, "but from your looks and your long
+silence, I should hardly have judged that you were thinking so."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have been taking stock of me, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly I have been wondering why you were so silent, and looked
+so ... grave."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be honest and fear not, Master Wheatman. You were not going to say
+'grave.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the expense of many whippings from old Bloggs, I learned to be
+precise in the use of words."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know, hence you were not going to say 'grave.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will allow me to choose my own words, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, so long as you choose the right ones."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She unhooked her hand, and we walked a minute or two without another
+word, she frowning, and I fuming. Then she said wistfully, "Why did you
+think I was cross?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I feared I had offended you," said I hastily and innocently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She laughed long and merrily. "Old Bloggs taught you the silly rigmarole
+you men call logic, but he didn't teach you woman's logic, that's plain.
+Don't you see what I've made you do, Master Wheatman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not yet, Mistress Waynflete."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poof, slow-coach! I've made you admit that you were going to say 'cross'
+but altered it, too late, to 'grave.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You outrun me with your nimble and practised wit," said I, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And when did you offend me, think you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I answered you rather roughly when you took me up about the guinea."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, then? Not at all. You snibbed me, but I richly deserved it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well?" she said. "Go on! I say I richly deserved it. Go on!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go on where?" I asked testily. "You're not expecting me to say you
+didn't, are you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, I'm not," she said, "but it was good practice trying to make you."
+So saying, she slipped her hand under my arm again, and we stepped it out
+together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The current of her thoughts now ran and glittered in the opposite
+direction. She made me for the moment her intimate, lifting up the veil
+over her past life, and giving me peeps and vistas of her wanderings and
+experiences. She jested and gibed. She sang little snatches of song in
+some foreign tongue. "You're sure you don't understand Italian?" she
+demanded, stopping short half-way through a bar, and quizzing me with her
+eyes, now blue as sapphires in the bright sunshine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not a word of it," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A grave disadvantage," she said airily. "It's the only language one can
+love in." And off she struck again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now she sang something soothing and sad, with a wistful lilt in it that
+died into a low wail. It needed no Italian to be understood, for it was
+written in the language of human experience. A woman's heart throbbed in
+the lilt and broke in the wail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This sweet interval of intimacy verging on friendship was ended by our
+close approach to the main road. We had been travelling, heedless of roads
+and tracks, across a champaign country, and the slope up to the top of
+Yarlet Bank now lay before us. I led the way, skulking behind such poor
+cover as the gaunt hedgerows provided, and, when only a hundred paces from
+the top, I asked her to crouch down, awaiting my signal to advance, while
+I crept forward on my hands and knees to the edge of the road which here
+climbed the brow of the hill through a deep cutting, along either margin
+of which ran a straggling hedge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To my relief, the road down the hill, both to right and left, was
+completely deserted. I joyfully waved my arm to Mistress Waynflete, who
+was soon by my side, looking down the road. To the right we could see for
+nearly a mile. On the left our view was cut short by a bend, and I walked
+a score of yards in that direction and shinned up a stout sapling. Our
+luck was absolute. Not a soldier, not a living soul, was in sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We might have had to skulk here for hours, waiting for an opportunity to
+cross unseen," said I, on rejoining her, "but our gods above are
+victorious, and we share their victory. So now for the 'Ring of Bells.'
+There's a gate at the bottom of the hill. Come along, Mistress Waynflete!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She followed me down the hedge-side. I turned once or twice to look at
+her, carefully pretending that it was only to see how she was getting on.
+The last time I thus stole another memory of her splendid presence we were
+only a few paces from the gate, and when my reluctant eyes turned again to
+their rightful work, they looked straight into a pair of fishy eyes set in
+a face as blank and ugly as a bladder of lard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Face and eyes belonged to a big, sleek, sly man, perched on the top bar
+of the gate. He had a notebook in his hand in which he had been entering
+some jottings. He suspended his writing to examine us, picking his nasty,
+yellow teeth meanwhile with the point of his pencil. His horse was hitched
+to the post on the Stoneward side of the gate, where the stile was. He was
+well enough dressed, and, as far as I could see, unarmed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a most exasperating thing to have pitched into him, whoever and
+whatever he was, and indeed I much disliked the look of him, and would
+gladly have knocked him on the head. True, travellers were not rare on
+this road, since it was part of the great highway from London to Chester,
+and the little thoroughfare town of Stone, some three miles ahead, had a
+noted posthouse. However, I kept, or tried to keep, my feelings out of my
+face and voice, and accosted him cheerily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good day, friend! What may be the price of fat beeves in Stafford market
+to-day?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dearer than men's heads will be at the town gates after the next
+assizes," he replied, stroking his notebook and grinning evilly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll never light on a Scotsman, dead or alive, that's worth as much as
+a Staffordshire heifer," said I, leading the way past him to the stile,
+over which I handed Mistress Margaret into the road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They won't all be Scotsmen, my friend," he replied, still stroking his
+notebook.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No?" said I, eager at heart to knock him off his perch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nor men," he added, leering at Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come along, Sal," said I to her laughingly, "before the good gentleman
+jots you down a Jacobite."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So we left him, and when, fifty paces down the road, I looked back at
+him, he was jotting in his notebook again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think he knows something about us," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very likely," she replied calmly. "I've seen him once before in London,
+talking to Major Tixall. Who could forget a face like that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's uglier than the big-mouthed dragoon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The dragoon was at any rate a soldier."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And the worst of soldiers has, no doubt, some savour of grace in him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite so," she retorted. "His calling makes it necessary."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And, so reasoning, you would say, I suppose, that the best of farmers
+was to seek in the higher reaches of manliness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have I not told you, Master Oliver, that between man's logic and woman's
+logic there's a great gulf fixed?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Minds are minds," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And hearts are hearts," replied she, and so shut me up to my thinking
+again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We turned into a cart-track on our left leading in the direction of
+Eccleshall. As we turned I saw that Bladder-face had mounted his horse and
+was coming on toward Stone. There was no doubt that we should be pursued
+from that quarter before long, and I grew heavy with anxiety as I saw how
+hardly we were being pressed. The encounter had not, however, disturbed
+Mistress Waynflete. On the contrary, she became gayer than ever, so gay
+that, fool-like, I got quite vexed at it, for it was clear that something
+had relieved her anxiety, and I knew it was nothing that I had done. I
+worried over it, and at last hit on the explanation. She was rejoicing in
+the help of the new partner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you make of Master Freake?" said I boorishly, cutting short a
+lightsome trill, more Italian maybe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Make of what?" said she lightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Freake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forgive me, Master Wheatman," she replied, "but I didn't take you as
+quickly as I ought to have done. I like the look of him. How pretty, pluck
+them for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stopped to gather the spray of brilliant vermilion berries she fancied,
+saying meanwhile, "I wonder what he is? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor,
+or what?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She seemed much more concerned with her berries, which she praised
+rapturously, and placed carefully in the bosom of her riding-dress before
+replying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's no doubt a grave and prosperous citizen of London. I've seen many
+such, and he looks sworn brother to worthy Alderman Heathcoat. Moreover,
+he talks merchantlike."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It seemed pretty certain that she had hit the right nail on the head. Her
+explanation fitted his account of the large sums he was carrying and his
+stay with and hold over Jack's father. True, Staffordshire seemed the
+wrong place for such a man. Both he and his money would have been far
+safer in Change Alley. If her explanation was acute and probable, her
+manner of making it had convinced me that my explanation of her gaiety was
+wrong. Of him she certainly had not been thinking. Then there was only one
+thing left to account for it. What makes a maid as merry as a grig? Didn't
+our Kate sing all morning when Jack was coming in the afternoon?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no concern of mine, and as a man sometimes makes his right hand
+play his left hand at chess, so I now made stern Oliver lecture paltering
+Wheatman, but without doing him much good. Naturally all this made me a
+poor companion on the road, and for a long time Mistress Waynflete bore
+with me patiently. Then she turned from her tra-la-la-ing to waken me up,
+roundly declaring that I was bored with her company; and I had no defence,
+ridiculous as the charge was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've sung every song I know, and sung them my best, too, and you've
+never once praised me. You'll have to learn, you know, Master Oliver, to
+smile at a lady even when you really want to smack her. What do you do?
+You just write on your face as plainly as this"--and here her dainty
+finger toured her face, ending up where the tear of milk had trembled
+--"S-M-A-C-K." I roared aloud, she did it so frankly and mirthfully. What
+a treasury of moods she was! She had stepped across our house-place like a
+queen, she had fronted that devil, Brocton, like a goddess, and now she
+was larking like a schoolmaid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Long as the way was, we seemed to me to be getting over the ground too
+rapidly. Mistress Waynflete did not tire, and did full credit to her
+father's soldiership. We circled round the red-tiled roofs of Eccleshall,
+and at length took shelter in the pines that ringed the great pool. Across
+the mere lay the road, and on the far side of the road from us was the
+"Ring of Bells," standing well back, with a little green in front, in the
+centre of which a huge post carried a board bearing the rudely painted
+sign of the ale-house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I scouted ahead, dodging from tree to tree along the edge of the mere, in
+order to keep out of view of anyone moving on the road. Over against the
+ale-house I crept still more warily through the wood to the edge of the
+road. There was no one moving in or about the ramshackle little place, but
+there was one unexpected thing in sight which gave me pause. Hitched by
+the reins to a staple in the signpost was the finest horse I had ever set
+eyes on, a slender, sinewy stallion, champing on his bit and pawing
+nervously on the stone-hard ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here was the shadow of a new trouble, though, indeed, there was nothing
+to be surprised at, seeing that the countryside far and near was buzzing
+with enemy activities. A rat in a barn might as justly complain of being
+tickled by straws as I of jostling into difficulties. The horse without
+betokened a rider within, and probably some one in the Duke's horse. I
+beckoned Mistress Waynflete, and by signs indicated that extreme caution
+was necessary. During the moments I was awaiting her I examined the
+birding-piece to make sure it was in order. Caution, however, she flung to
+the winds, for the moment she set eyes on the horse she joyously shouted
+'Sultan' and made a wild, happy dash to cross the road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stopped her sternly, and in a brief whisper asked, "Who's Sultan?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Father's horse."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We do not know for sure that your father is in the inn because his horse
+is outside, and by your leave, madam, we'll make sure first. Keep right
+behind yon thick tree, and await my return."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked calmly at me, but even before she could glide off, there came
+from the ale-house an appalling volley of oaths and curses. It was a man's
+voice, yelling in agonized blasphemy, and a woman's shrill treble floated
+on the surface of the stream of virulence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I caught Mistress Waynflete's wrist and steadied her. "Not your father,
+apparently?" I said in a cool voice, though my head was whirling a bit
+under the strain. "Here," I went on, fetching a fistful out of my pocket,
+"are some guineas. Follow me, unhitch the horse, and if I shout to you to
+be off, mount him from yon horse-trough, and away like lightning. That's
+the road to Eccleshall, along which Master Freake is bound to come."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I thrust the guineas into her hand, gripped my weapon, slipped out of the
+pines and across the road, circled the horse, and made to peep round the
+jamb of the open door into the guest-room of the ale-house. As I did so,
+the man yelled, "God damn, I'm on fire!" and the woman shrieked back,
+"Burn, you foul devil, burn, and be damned!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was enough, and I burst in on a spectacle, strange, serious, on the
+point of becoming terrible, and yet almost laughable. In the middle of the
+room, a stout, shock-headed, red-elbowed woman stood, a pikel in her
+strong outstretched hands. The sergeant of dragoons, with his back to a
+roaring fire, was pinned against the hearthstead by the pitchfork, the
+tines of which were stuck in the oak lintel of the chimney-piece, so that
+a ring of steel encircled his throat like the neckhole of a pillory, and
+held him there helpless and roasting. When I first caught sight of him he
+was making a frenzied attempt to wrench the prongs out, but, finding it
+hopeless, drew his tuck, and lashed out at the woman. She calmly shifted
+out of reach along the handle of the fork. He then hacked fiercely but
+without much effect on the wooden handle, and finally, in his despair and
+agony, poised the tuck and cast it at her javelin-fashion. The woman,
+cooler than he in both senses of the term, dodged it easily. How she had
+contrived to pin him in such a helpless manner, I could not imagine. The
+motive was obvious. A little girl lay writhing and sobbing on the floor
+amid the fragments of a broken mug and a scattering of copper and silver
+coins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You've got him safe enough, mother," said I, "and it's no good cooking
+him since you can't eat him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be yow another stinking robber, like this'n?" she demanded. The epithet
+was as apt as it was vigorous, for the stink of singeing cloth made me
+sniff. "If y'be," she went on, "I'll shove' im in the fire and set about
+yow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not a bit of it, mother. I've come to help you, but shift him along a
+bit out of the heat, and then we'll settle what to do with him." To him I
+added, "Understand, sergeant, any attempt to fight or fly, and your neck
+will be wrung like a cockerel's." Then laying down my gun I pulled out the
+tines and shifted him along the lintel till he was out of danger. The
+woman, whose fierce determination never faltered, jammed the pikel in
+again and kept him trapped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went to the door and saw Mistress Waynflete standing by Sultan's head,
+and the proud beauty arching his neck in his joy at finding his mistress
+near him. I beckoned her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An old acquaintance, in a fix. Come in!" said I, and introduced her to
+the strange scene. "The sergeant, madam," I went on, "and he has been
+plucked like a brand from the burning." She took in the scene, judged what
+had happened, and then gathered up the child, who had ceased crying out of
+curiosity, and mothered the little one so sweetly that the red-elbowed
+woman cried out hearty thanks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In brief the story, as collected later from the mother and child, was
+that the sergeant had ridden up and asked for a meal. After he had had
+some bread and cheese and ale, he had taken advantage of the alewife's
+absence to ask the child where mother kept her money, and, receiving no
+answer, had twisted the poor little one's arm until in her terror and
+agony she had told him of the secret hole in the chimney where the money
+was kept in a coarse brown mug. The child's cry had brought the mother
+running back with the pikel, snatched up on the way, and she, taking him
+at unawares with the mug in his hand, had darted at him and luckily caught
+him round the neck, and pinned him against the fireplace as I had found
+him. Let him go she dared not, for she was alone except for the child, and
+but for my arrival he would have roasted right enough till he was
+helpless. As it was the skirts of his coat were smouldering, and he had
+only just escaped serious injury. In fact, although smarting sore, he was
+so little damaged that after tearing away the burnt tails, he collected
+himself and tried to bam me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman," he began, "I call upon you in the King's name to aid
+and assist me. This woman's tale is all a lie. The mug was on the
+chimney-top for anyone to see, and I only took it down to examine it,
+being struck with its appearance."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Also in the King's name, Master Sergeant," was my reply, "I propose to
+have you handed over to the nearest justice as a rogue and vagabond."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you shall explain why you are here with your--" I should have
+strangled him if his foul tongue had wagged one word of insult, and he saw
+it in my eyes. He stopped, and his face showed that he had discovered the
+secret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The sergeant recognizes you again, Molly," said I lightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bammed and beaten by a damned yokel?" he burst out. "Ten thousand
+devils! Where were my eyes yesterday?" In his anger he began to strain at
+his steel cravat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Virgil for ever! The first town we come to I'll buy me a Latin grammar,"
+said Margaret to me, with a low ripple of laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How'd on, fool," said the alewife to the sergeant. "Yow wunna be wuth
+hangin' if y' carry on a this'n."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you don't loose me, you old bitch," he shouted, "I'll see you hanged!
+Loose me, for your neck's sake! These people are Jacobites!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom, I dunna know what that be, but I wish Stafford-sheer was full on
+'em. 'Tinna any good chokin' y'rsen, I shanna let go."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This method of keeping him, however, rendered the alewife useless, so I
+took her place, and bade her fetch the longest and toughest rope she'd
+got. She brought me a beauty and with it I trussed the sergeant, tying him
+securely into a heavy, clumsy chair, and leaving him as helpless as a fowl
+ready for roasting. Then a thought struck me and I went through his
+pockets. His very stillness made me careful in my search, but I found only
+some old bills for fodder and other military papers, and a heavily sealed
+letter addressed "To HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS." I was not quite Jacobite enough
+to make me willing to steal a dispatch addressed to the Royal Duke, and I
+should have thrust it and the oddments of paper back again but for the
+rattle of hoofs outside. It was probably Master Freake, and I was
+particularly anxious that the sergeant should not see him, so I rushed out
+with all the papers in my hand to forestall him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hurrying outside I saw Master Freake hitching his horse to the signpost,
+and Mistress Waynflete already talking to him eagerly. When I got up he
+delivered his news briefly and to the point, and bad news it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had learned in Stone that the Colonel had again been taken on ahead
+towards Newcastle in charge of a troop of Brocton's dragoons under the
+command of Captain Rigby, "last night's table companion of the dead
+Major," he explained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whatever for?" asked Mistress Waynflete.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake said nothing, but his eyes were troubled, and I knew there
+was something he would fain conceal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whatever for?" she repeated. "Could you learn of no reason?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was told," he answered slowly, "that Colonel Waynflete's knowledge and
+assistance would be invaluable to the royal troops."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Told that my father had turned traitor! Is that what you mean, sir?"
+Scorn too great for anger covered her face, veiling its sweetness as with
+a fiery cloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is the plain English of what I was told, I must admit." Here was
+the grave, businesslike nature of the man, plainly posing awkward
+questions that had to be answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's a wicked lie!" she burst out. She turned her face proudly to look
+into mine, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Naturally, madam," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father's honour is mine, Master Wheatman, and I am your debtor for
+another splendid courtesy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I argue from the flower to the tree. Man's logic, and therefore
+necessarily imperfect, you would say, but for once I stick to it." I spoke
+lightly and reminiscently, so as to chase the gloom from her mind, and she
+was immediately herself again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake continued his story, which went from bad to worse. As I had
+expected, Bladderface had ridden into Stone, and the result of his
+communication to Captain Rigby had been that orders were issued for our
+pursuit, and Master Freake had left the town not very far in advance of
+the squad of horse sent on our track. He had thus been unable to procure
+horses for us, but at Eccleshall he had managed to obtain a pillion for
+Margaret's use behind him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was awkward indeed, for though Master Freake had ridden hard, the
+pursuit could not be very far behind, and if, as was almost certain, the
+dragoons turned up at the "Ring of Bells," the sergeant would be set free,
+and be after us like a mad bull. There was, however, a margin of time
+available, and therefore I put this problem out of my mind, and attended
+only to the urgent one of the Colonel's position.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To me there was only one explanation possible. This continual shifting of
+the Colonel, ever under the charge of those rascally dragoons, commanded
+now by a man whose familiarity with Tixall was an evil augury, meant one
+thing only. Soon, perhaps within an hour or two, there would be fighting,
+and under cover of that a stab in the back or a bullet in the head would
+clear the Colonel out of Brocton's path for ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take these papers, Master Freake," said I. "Mistress Waynflete will tell
+you what has happened here, and you can give them back to their owner if
+you choose. But do not, I beg you, on any account let the rascal inside
+see or hear you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I raced indoors, seized the sergeant's tuck and took his baldrick from
+him, heedless of his vile threats. I left him there, choking with
+foulness, unhitched Sultan, sprang into the saddle, and cantered up to my
+friends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Mistress Margaret," I said, "describe your father so that I shall
+know him when I see him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sketched his portrait in broad, clear outlines, and I fixed the
+description point by point in my memory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's the road to Newcastle," said I, pointing along the edge of the
+mere, "and it's fairly straight and good. Follow me there as quickly as
+you can, and inquire for me at the 'Rising Sun.' I'll have news of the
+Colonel, if not the Colonel himself, when we meet again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bowed to Margaret, dug my heels into Sultan, and was off like a flash.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH I SLIP</h3>
+
+<p>
+Sultan was a horse for a man, long and regular in his stride, perfect in
+action, quick to obey, cat-like at need. I might have ridden him from the
+day on which the blacksmith drank his colt-ale, for we understood each
+other exactly, and I was as comfortable on his back as in my bed at the
+Hanyards. In the open road at the mere-end, he settled down into a steady,
+loping trot, and I was free to think matters out to the music of his
+hoof-beats on the road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was only eight or nine miles into Newcastle, and as the dragoons would
+travel slowly and warily there was just a chance that I should be there
+first. Further, it was wholly unlikely that I should be interfered with,
+since the only two enemies who knew I was aiding Mistress Margaret were
+helpless in my rear--Brocton at Stafford, and the sergeant in the "Ring of
+Bells." I was unknown in the town, not having been there since my
+schooldays, and then only on rare occasions, as a visit to the town meant
+a thirty-mile walk in one day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plan-making was futile. Everything would depend upon chance, but if
+chance threw me into touch with the Colonel, it should go hard if I did
+not free him somehow or other. The most splendid thing would be if I could
+free him before Margaret overtook me at the "Rising Sun." True, I had only
+an hour or so to spare, but now strange things happened in an hour of my
+life, and this great luck might be mine. Then would come my rich and rare
+reward--the light in her deep, blue eyes and the tremulous thanks on her
+ripe, red lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then a thought smote me like a blow between the eyes, so that I
+dizzied a moment, and the day grew grey and the outlook blank. The finding
+of the Colonel meant the losing of Margaret. Father and daughter reunited,
+my work would be done; the day of the hireling would be accomplished. Need
+for me there would be none. The old life would again claim me, justly
+claim me too, for was I not, though all unworthily and unprofitably, the
+only son of my sweet mother, and she a widow. I could see her in the
+house-place at the Hanyards, her calm eyes fixed in sorrow on my empty
+chair. <i>A man shall leave father and mother</i>, yes, for one particular
+cause, but the only son of a widowed mother for no cause whatsoever.
+Christ, I said to myself, would not have raised the young man of Nain
+merely to get married.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still there was the work, and I spurned my gloomy thoughts and turned to
+think of it. And first I took stock of my means of offence. There were
+loaded pistols in the holsters, fine long weapons with polished walnut
+stocks inlaid with silver lacery and the initials 'C.W.', the Colonel's
+without a doubt. At the saddle-bow there hung a sizeable leathern pouch,
+and this I found to contain a good supply of charges. I was a sure shot,
+and I tried my skill on a gate as Sultan flew by, splintering the latch at
+which I aimed to a nicety, the well-trained horse taking no more notice of
+the shot than of a wink at a passing market-wench. So far so good. Then
+there was the sergeant's tuck, and I shouted with a schoolboy's glee at
+having for the first time in my life a sword at my side. Of how to use it
+I knew nothing, unless many bouts at single-stick with Jack should be some
+sort of apprenticeship in swordcraft. I practised pulling it out, and
+then, imitating Brocton, made the forty-inch blade twist and tang in the
+air, which pleased me greatly. I felt quite a Cavalier now, and said
+within myself that old Smite-and-spare-not's bones should soon be rustling
+in their grave with envy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And so into Meece, wondering if the fat host of the "Black Bull" would
+recognize in the splendidly mounted horseman the dusty schoolboy of ten
+years ago. There he was in the porch, grown intolerably fatter, talking to
+my ancient gossip, Rupert Toms, the sexton, now heavily laden with years
+and infirmities. I pricked on, having no time to spare for either prayer
+or provender, since every moment was precious, though a tankard of double
+October, mulled with spice and laced with brandy, would have been precious
+too, for the matter of that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the tail of the village, where the curve of the road runs into the
+straight again to climb the long hill, I came for a moment into touch with
+my affair. A horseman was in sight, rattling down the slope, and I saw
+that he was an officer, a keen-featured, middle-aged man, with the set
+face of one who rides on urgent business. Yet he checked his horse when
+near me, and cried curtly, "What news from Stafford?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A word with him might be worth while, so I too pulled up and answered
+very politely, "It's market-day."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn the market! What news of the troops, sir? Is my Lord Brocton still
+there?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I believe he is."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then damn my Lord Brocton! Did you chance to see him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had that honour late last night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Anything the matter with him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He'd had enough," said I simply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's what comes of shoving sprigs of your bottle-sucking nobility into
+the service. Damn his nobility! There's another of them back yonder, as
+much use as an old tup."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I detain you much longer," said I, with exaggerated sweetness,
+"you'll be damning me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing likelier. I damn everything and everybody that don't suit me.
+That's why I'm captain at fifty instead of colonel at thirty. What of it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord Brocton's nine miles off, and I'm not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Think I care? Damn you, too, and I'll fight you when we meet again. Like
+a lark! Wish I'd time now. Good day, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He dug the rowels into his horse and was off. An earnest, choleric man
+with his heart in his work, for which I liked him, even to his persistent
+damning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I put Sultan to the slope and he kept bravely at it till I eased him off
+where the rise was steepest. My late encounter clearly meant that affairs
+were ripening fast farther north, and it might also mean danger behind me
+sooner than I had looked for. The blood danced in my veins at the prospect
+of the adventures that awaited me. Ho, for life and work! Would it be long
+before the blue eyes lanced me through and through again, as when I kissed
+her hand among the trees by the roadside? I looked at the frosty sun and
+judged that it was nigh on twenty-four hours since I had stood in the
+porch and watched mother and Kate across the cobbles into the road
+--twenty-four hours that had done more for me than the twenty-four years
+that had gone before them, for they had given me a man's task, a man's
+thoughts, the stirrings of a man's being, the beginning of a man's agony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were at the top now with the open country stretching for miles around
+us. But the dale beneath, through which the main road ran a mile away to
+the east, was thick with trees, and I could get no inkling of how things
+were going. I strained my ears to listen, but no warning sound could I
+hear. The countryside was still and calm as a frozen sea, and war and its
+terrors seemed so impossible that for a moment I felt as if it was only a
+dream-life that I was living and that I must wake soon and hear Joe Braggs
+trolling out his morning song in honour of Jane. But Sultan craned round
+his shapely head as if to ask me why I was loitering in the cold, bleak
+air; so with a cheery slap on his glossy neck, I gave him the reins and
+away he went, with me spitting ghostly Broctons on the sergeant's tuck.
+Through the skirts of the woodland he carried me, and then up again till
+on the top of Clayton Bank I pulled him up a second time for another
+survey of the situation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little town was now in full view a mile ahead, lying on the slope and
+top of some rising ground. Across the meadows to my right, and now plainly
+to be seen less than half a mile away, was the main road from Stone. Again
+I was disappointed. A long, rude post-wagon, pulled by eight horses and
+driven by a man on an active little nag, was groaning its way south; a
+solitary horseman was ambling north--and that was all I could see.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What had happened to the Colonel? Were the dragoons in the town or not? I
+dug my heels into Sultan's flanks and put him to it at his best, and in a
+few minutes was on the outskirts of the town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The town consists in the main of two streets. The High Street is simply
+the town part of the main road from the south and Stone to Congleton and
+the north--the line along which the Stuart Prince was marching. It
+deserves its name, for it lies along the edge of the slope on which the
+town lies. Parallel to it in the dip lies Lower Street, and the road I was
+on curls past the end of this street and climbs gently to join the upper
+road. I could thus get into the heart of the town through the poorer
+quarter of it, and soon the kidney-stones of Lower Street rang under
+Sultan's hoofs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The stir and noise of Stafford was completely absent. The townspeople,
+mainly hatters by trade, were plying their craft indoors as if no enemy
+were at their gate. In fact, as I learned afterwards, there was no fuss
+and much fun and good business when the Highlanders actually came on the
+scene. The farther a town was from them the more it funked them, which
+was, as everybody knows now, truest of all of London. As I turned up the
+lane by St. Giles', the church bells chimed two. Past the church in the
+corner between the lane and the High Street was the "Rising Sun." Once
+Sultan was safe in its stables I could set about getting news of the
+Colonel before Margaret and Master Freake arrived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was stiff work up the last thirty yards, and Sultan shook himself
+together after it when he drew out on the level High Street. Here were
+throngs of people and some signs of trouble toward. In particular I
+noticed the town fathers in their black gowns of office, and, most
+conspicuous of all, the crimson and fur of his worship. I judged they were
+coming from a council meeting in the town hall, which stood in the middle
+of the wide High Street. There was much high debate, wagging of fingers
+and smiting of fist in palm, but no approach to the tumult and terror of
+yesternight. The Mayor stood for a moment confabbing at the door of a
+grocery, and then shot into it. I saw him struggling out of his gown as he
+disappeared, and thence inferred that the chief burgess was a grocer in
+private life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So much I saw before pulling Sultan round to pass under the archway
+leading into the yard of the "Rising Sun." I dismounted and called for an
+ostler. No man appearing, I was about to lead Sultan farther down the yard
+towards the stables when there was a scurry of feet behind me as if the
+whole ostler-tribe of the "Rising Sun" was hastening to my assistance. I
+turned round rattily to find myself looking into the barrel of a pistol,
+while three or four men pounced on me and pinned me against the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn ye, horse-thief, for the black of a bean I'd blow your brains out,"
+said Colonel Waynflete. "Stick tight, lads; and you, good host, fetch
+along Master Mayor and the constable, and have me the scoundrel laid by
+the heels. If this were only my commandery on the Rhine! I'd strappado you
+and then hang you within the next half-hour. My bonny Sultan! How are you,
+my precious?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When a raw youth leaves farming for knight-erranting he must expect sharp
+turns and rough tumbles, but surely Fate and Fortune were overdoing it
+now. It was the Colonel beyond doubt, and Margaret had limned him to the
+life. The hawk-eyes, the hook nose, the leathery skin, the orange-tawny
+campaign-wig with the grizzled hair peeping under the rim of it, the tall,
+thin, supple figure, all were there. And if I had been in any doubt of it,
+Sultan would have settled the matter, for his pleasure at finding his
+master was delightful to witness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In hot blood I did not mind a pistol, and in the coldest blood I could
+easily have kicked loose from the men who had got hold of me. But Margaret
+kept my limbs idle and my mouth shut. There was no real danger, for that
+matter, unless Margaret and Master Freake failed to turn up at the "Rising
+Sun," and there was no reason to suppose they would fail. The Colonel gave
+me no chance to speak to him privately, and to speak to him publicly might
+upset his plans. How he had got here a free man, what strange turn things
+had taken in his favour, I could not imagine. Margaret would be here in an
+hour and put matters right, so for her sake it would be best and easiest
+to say nothing. I simply made up my mind that the varlet on my right,
+whose dirty claws and beery breath were sickening me, should have the
+direst of drubbings before the day was out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mine host bustled off for the Mayor, and, the news having gone around,
+the yard was filled with people watching the fun and making a
+mocking-stock of me. The Colonel saw Sultan off to be groomed and baited,
+and then, without so much as a look at me, went into the inn and sat down
+to his interrupted meal. I could see him plainly through the window, and
+hugely admired his coolness. The maids clustered around to have a peep at
+me. Such as were old and ugly declared off-hand that I was indisputably
+ripe for the gallows, but a younger one with saucy eyes and cherry-red
+cheeks blew a kiss, and called out to beery breath to deal gentlier with
+me. He moved a little in turning to grin at her, and I shot my knee into
+his wind and doubled him up on the ground. A stouter lad took his place,
+but his breath was sweet and I gained much in comfort by the change.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The situation had the saving grace of humour. For twenty-four hours I had
+been on the stretch to save Colonel Waynflete from his enemies. To do it I
+had left mother and sister, and home and lands. To do it I had come out
+openly on the side of rebellion and treason. The sword had been at my
+breast, and the wind of a bullet had stirred the hair of my head. I might
+have spared my pains. All this pother of mine was over the man sitting
+yonder, heartily enjoying his dinner. All my heroics had ended in my being
+arrested as a horse-thief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I closed my eyes. Picture after picture came before me of Margaret in her
+changing moods and her unchanging beauty. Gad! How cheaply I had bought
+this gallery of precious memories!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A throng of lads crowding noisily under the archway heralded the approach
+of the dignitaries. First came the town beadle, a pompous little fellow
+who wore a laced brown greatcoat many sizes too large for him, and carried
+a cudgel of office thick as his own arm, and surmounted by a brass crown
+the size of a baby's head. His office enabled him to be brave on the
+cheap, so by dint of digging his weapon into the ribs of all and sundry,
+they being, as he expressed it, too thick on the clod, he cleared a path
+for the grocer-mayor, who had gotten himself again into his scarlet gown.
+His worship was gawky, flustered, and uncertain, and listened like a
+scared rabbit to mine host, a man of much talk, who explained proudly what
+was to be done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is 'im, y'r worship," he said. "A dirty 'oss-thief as badly wants
+'anging. Copped in the act, y'r worship, of riding into this 'ere yard o'
+mine, as big as bull-beef, sitting on the very 'oss 'e'd stolen from his
+lordship 'ere."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His lordship was the Colonel, who had leisurely left his meal again to
+settle my hash. I can see him now as he stood on the step of the inn-door,
+carefully flicking a stray crumb or two from his waistcoat, and taking the
+measure of the man he had to bamboozle, with clear, amused, grey eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Mayor of the town, I think," he said softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, your honour," said the good man surreptitiously wiping something,
+probably sugar, off his hands on the lining of his gown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And his beadle, your lordship," added the host, and the under-strapper
+inside the greatcoat saluted the Colonel with a flourish of his tipstaff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am Colonel Waynflete," he answered in level measured tones, "riding on
+important business of His Majesty's, and my horse was stolen at an inn,
+some miles back, beyond Stafford. But for the kindness of my Lord Brocton
+in providing me with another, His Gracious Majesty's affairs would have
+been badly disarranged. This fellow came riding in on my horse, Sultan, a
+few minutes ago and I ordered his arrest. He is now in your worship's
+hands. I leave him there with confidence, merely remarking, on the warrant
+of many years' observation in such matters, that he will require a stout
+rope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He nodded to his dithering worship, and marched back slowly and calmly to
+his dinner.
+
+"This beats cock-fighting," said mine host admiringly. He spread himself,
+happy and conspicuous as a tom-tit on a round of beef, and the crowd,
+pleasantly anticipating mugs of beer later on, urged the Mayor to be up
+and doing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What have you to say for yourself?" said his grocer-ship to me, with a
+dim and belated idea, perhaps, that I might be interested in the
+proceedings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The beadle's coat is much too large for him," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "Samson Salt was a big man and had only
+had the coat three years when he died, and we couldn't afford a new one
+for Timothy. Dear me, but this isn't a council meeting, and what's the
+beadle's coat got to do with horse-stealing?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As much as I have," I replied gravely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yow've 'ad enough, my lad," said the host, "to last y'r the rest of y'r
+life. The next 'oss you rides'll be foaled of an acorn. Let Timothy put
+him in clink, Master Mayor, and come and have a noggin of the real thing.
+Gom, I'm that dry my belly'll be thinking my throat's cut."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Arrest this man, Timothy Tomkins, and put him in jail till I can take
+due order for his trial."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Timothy turned up the sleeves of his coat, and arrested me by placing his
+hand on my arm, and flourishing the brass crown in my face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't hurt me, Timothy," I said. "I'll come like a lamb, and I'll go
+slow lest you should tumble over the tail of your coat."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you say another word about the blasted coat I'll split your head
+open," was his angry reply. It was evidently a sore topic with him and a
+familiar one with his frugal townsmen, for some man in the crowd cried
+out, "'Tinna big enough for the missis, be it, Timothy?" And while the
+peppery little beadle's eyes were searching the japer out, another added,
+"More's the pity, for 'er's a bit of a light-skirt." At this there was a
+roar of laughter, so I saved the frenzied officer further trouble by
+saying, "Come along, Timothy. Let's go to jail."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the Mayor's orders, mine host despoiled me of the sergeant's tuck, and
+Timothy marched me off to the jail, the rabble following, as full of
+chatter as a nest of magpies. The jail was a small stone building,
+standing, like the town hall, in the middle of the street. Arrived there,
+Timothy thrust me into an ill-lit dirty hole below the level of the
+street, locked the door behind me, and left me to my reflections.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only furniture of the den was a rude bench. A nap would do me good,
+so, after a good pull at Kate's precious cordial, I curled up on the bench
+and in a few minutes was sound asleep. And in my sleep I dreamed that two
+blue stars were twinkling at me through a golden cloud.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE GUEST-ROOM OF THE "RISING SUN"</h3>
+
+<p>
+A wisp of cloud, a long trail of shimmering gold, broke loose, swept with
+the touch of softest silk across my cheek, and half awakened me. I was
+lazily and sleepily regretting that such caresses only came in dreams,
+when I was brought sharply back to full life by a ripple of hearty
+laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gloat on!" said I complacently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew you'd slip some time or other. Gloat! Of course I shall gloat."
+And she laughed again. I should have borne it easily enough, coming from
+her, under any circumstances, but there was one circumstance which made it
+a pure joy. The white hands were busy with her unruly yellow hair, and I
+was so far gone foolward that I was in some sort hopeful that they were
+imprisoning the wisp of golden cloud that had awakened me. I bitterly
+regretted that I was not as nimble at waking as Jack. He would be sleeping
+like a leg of mutton one second and, at the touch of a feather, as wide
+awake as a weasel the next. I took time--it was the Latin rubbish
+cumbering my brain, he used to say--or I might have made sure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mistress Margaret was perched on the edge of my bench. She seemed in no
+hurry to move, and I could not get up till she did, so I lay still,
+cradling my head in my hands, and looked contentedly at her. It was now so
+gloomy that I had evidently been asleep some time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew you'd slip," she repeated with great zest. "All men do. And I'm
+glad you slipped, for it proved you human. I was getting quite overawed by
+the terrible precision with which you did exactly the right thing at
+exactly the right time. It made me feel so very small and inferior, and no
+woman likes that. It's not nice."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Or natural," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I see you're unmistakably awake, sir!" was the tart reply. She rose and
+took short turns up and down the cell and went on: "But why slip into
+jail, Master Wheatman? Why did you not tell father who you were and what
+you had done for me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And so prove at once to the authorities in the town that he was not what
+he pretended to be!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ho!" she said, and stopped short.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our idea was, I think, to free the Colonel, if we could."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes." She was not gloating now, but wondering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, madam, I found him free, and the only advantage I can see in your
+plan is, that I should have had him as a companion in jail. Whereas now
+I've mended my night's sleep with a refreshing nap, and Master Freake has
+so lucidly explained things to the Mayor that Timothy of the long coat is
+kicking his heels at the top of the stairs, and wondering how much longer
+you're going to be. Shall we once more breathe the upper air, as Virgil
+would put it? This hole is as bad as a corner in his under-world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I laughed at you for slipping, Master Wheatman! I shall never dare
+to look you in the face again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't you believe it, madam," said I airily, leading the way to the
+steps. "I've heard Copper Nob say the same thing scores of times."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who's Copper Nob?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question came like the crack of a whip, and I was glad the familiar
+phrase had slipped out unawares and diverted her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our Kate," I explained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh indeed, sir! A more beautiful head of hair no woman in this land
+possesses, and you glibly call her 'Copper Nob.' Doubtless you have
+selected some nice expressive name for me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shouldn't dare!" I protested hotly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why not? You do it for her, brazenly and wantonly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, madam, but she's my sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How does that assure me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A man's sister isn't a woman," said I, and went ahead and pushed open
+the door. There, sure enough, was Timothy, looking very uncertain and
+rueful. The little man's complaisance had given me the greatest wonder of
+my life--Margaret's silent watching over me as I lay asleep, and I gave
+him a guinea with much gladness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The coat's too big for you, Timothy, and it's no good denying it. I'll
+speak to his worship about a new one of the right length."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank yer, sir," he said, grinning oafishly as he pouched the guinea.
+"I'd rather have a new coat than a new missus, and, swelp me bob, I want
+both."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret joined me, and we at once made our way to the "Rising Sun." Work
+for the day was over, and the street was now getting thronged and noisy.
+Many curious looks were bent on us, but no one dared to interfere with a
+man of my evil reputation, a horse-thief being the last thing in
+desperadoes. We had only a few yards to go, but my mistress apprised me in
+sweet whisperings that Master Freake's explanation was that Sultan had
+been innocently obtained from the real thief, that I was his servant, and,
+not knowing of the horse deal, had loyally kept silent lest I should make
+mischief--a happy and reasonably truthful rendering of the real facts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"After his private talk with Master Mayor," she added, "that worthy man's
+knees were as hard worked as the hinges of an ale-house door."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The poor cringeling is but a grocer," said I, as we turned in under the
+archway of the "Rising Sun." The host saw us through the kitchen window,
+and ran out to usher us in with the assurance of a brass weathercock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sommat like a jail delivery, eh, y'r 'onour? Gom, if I wudna pinch fifty
+'osses to be fetched out o' clink by such a bonny lady, begging your
+ladyship's pardon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She shall fetch you out," said I sourly, "when you're jailed for not
+stealing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His honour's commands are a law unto his handmaiden," said Margaret
+demurely and icily, addressing him, but aiming point-blank at me. Her shot
+blew me clean out of the water, and I stood there guggling like a born
+idiot. "Curse you, will you never get out of your yokel's ways?" said I to
+myself. It was as if I had said to the sergeant, speaking of Jane, "She
+shall draw you a mug of beer." I was clean nonplussed, and felt as
+uncomfortable as a boiling crawfish, but fortunately rattle-pate came to
+my aid and drowned my confusion in a flood of words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And all he said, y'r ladyship, was that Timothy's coat was too big for
+'im. Gom, it beat cock-fighting, it did. Swelp me bob it did. I never saw
+a man so staggered as the Mayor, but he's got over it fine, and gone 'ome,
+good man, with a crick in his back and near on a pint of my best brandy in
+his belly. When these 'ere wild Highland rappers and renders come, he's
+just primed up to make 'em a grand speech at bridge yonder, and if that
+dunna frighten 'em off, nuthin' wull, and my cellars will be as ill filled
+with beer as Timothy's coat is with brawn. I'm getting the best supper on
+the Chester road for yer, y'r honour, and that'll mike you feel as bold as
+sixpence among sixpenn'orth o' coppers. But come along, y'r ladyship. The
+Colonel's upstairs. Follow me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Words ran out of him like ale out of a stunned barrel. He clacked on
+incessantly on the way upstairs, and clacked as boldly as ever as he
+ushered us into the room, where the Colonel was awaiting us alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Ere 'e is, y'r lordship," he said gustily. "'Ere's the nobby gentleman
+as didna steal yer 'oss. But yow'd best keep yer eye on 'im, on my say so.
+He'll pinch sommat o' yow'n yet afore 'e's done."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel, who was toasting his toes at a roaring fire, rose as I
+followed Margaret towards him. He made me a precise and formal bow, which
+I imitated farmer fashion. "This is Master Oliver Wheatman of the
+Hanyards, father," said Margaret, in so low a tone that the host,
+lingering, hand on door-knob, nearly a dozen paces behind us, could not
+have heard her.
+
+"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said, repeating his bow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The honour is mine, sir," I replied, repeating mine, and wondering the
+while if I ever should learn to bend like a willow instead of a jointed
+doll.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, I protest, sir." This suavely to me; then, stepping sharply towards
+the host, he stormed, "Damn ye, man, get on the landlord's side of the
+door, or I'll rout it down around your lazy ears. Slids! I've shot an
+innkepeer for less in the Rhineland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Them 'ere furriners--" began the host, but the Colonel swamped him with
+something of which I could make out nothing except that it was a fairly
+successful attempt to talk and sneeze at the same time. It finished off
+the host, who retired, beaten with his own weapon. The victor, waiting
+till the door was closed, tiptoed up to it and listened carefully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A rather interesting feature about dad," whispered Margaret with
+mischief in her eyes, "is that when he's angry he curses in French, and
+when he's mad he execrates in German."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Neatly rounding off his daughter's accomplishments," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And how, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who gibes in English and loves in Italian."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stabbed me with her eyes, and said, "Your services give you no
+privileges, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know that, madam, but my yokelship does."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke lightly, keeping the bitterness of my heart out of my voice,
+though it had surged up into my speech. I may have been mistaken, misled
+by the flickering fire-light, but the anger seemed to melt out of her eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The return of the Colonel ended our cut-and-thrust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Soldiering," he said, "is nine-tenths caution and one-tenth devilment.
+Yon glavering idiot has long ears to match his long tongue. And now, sir,
+let me greet you as I should."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seized my hand, shook it warmly, and continued, "A father's thanks,
+Master Wheatman, for your kindness to my Margaret. Anon she shall tell me
+the whole story, but I know already that you are a gallant gentleman whom
+I shall have the honour of turning into a fine soldier, and neither angel,
+man, nor devil could make you fairer requital."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Praise and promise were far beyond any desert or hope of mine, but I said
+boldly, "I am no gentleman, but just a plain, few-acred yeoman, who has
+tried to serve your daughter--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tried?" he snorted. "Tried, indeed! I've been soldiering man and boy
+these forty odd years, and, slids, I've never known better work." He ran
+me up and down with his eyes and, turning to Margaret, continued, "By the
+beard of the prophet, Madge, Master Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards is a
+vast improvement on the Baron."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret blushed daintily and hastily covered his mouth with her fingers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You dare, dad, and I won't kiss you good night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme," he said, freeing himself and grinning at me with delight.
+"This is rank mutiny. Prithee note, Master Wheatman, the
+prepare-to-receive-cavalry look in her eye! The last time I lost her was
+at Hanover, and she rejoined me, if you please, at Dresden."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Magdeburg, you libellous old father," said Margaret, pouting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So it was," he said heartily, conceding the point. "Escorted by, or
+escorting, I was never clear which, a fat German baron nearly five feet
+high, who begged me to horsewhip her into marrying him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You shot him?" said I, so very energetically that Margaret's pout turned
+into a smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear me, no," he said, pretending to yawn. "I left him to Madge, poor
+fellow! I hope you've given her every satisfaction, Master Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That he hasn't," said Margaret briskly. "He's spent far too much time
+putting me in what he considers my proper place."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My friend," said he to me gravely, "you're in for a dog's life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're right about the life, dad, but wrong about the dog. Good-bye till
+supper, you nasty ripper-up of your daughter's character!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So saying, she kissed him on each cheek, smiled at me, and left us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'd like to sluice the jail feeling off myself," said I to the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Right," he replied, looking at his watch. "You've just half an hour. I
+find England irksomely restful and law-abiding after the Continent, but
+I'm glad of it for once. I should be damnably vexed if I'd hanged you, and
+Madge wouldn't have liked it either."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had a grave voice, like a judge's, and a quick, pert eye, like a
+jackdaw's. Outwardly he was as unlike Margaret as the haft of a pike is
+unlike a lily, but I already saw her spirit in him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, "when I am fortified by a good supper, I will venture to
+indicate my preferences on the subject."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took out his snuff-box, tapped it carefully, opened it, and held it
+out to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have begun well, sir. I hear you are a great scholar, Latin and all
+that, quite pat. Damme, sir, those ancients understood things. They knew
+how to honour the gods, for they made soldiers of 'em and set 'em fighting
+in the clouds. There's divinity for you! You've got twenty-eight minutes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I laughed and left him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The room in which my introduction to the Colonel had taken place was
+immediately over the archway. Its window opened on to a balcony which,
+supported on thick oak balks, stood over the causeway of the street; its
+door was in a passage leading from one wing of the house to the other, and
+in the passage were three leaded lattice-windows of greenish glass,
+plentifully sprinkled with blobs and nodes, giving on the long inn-yard.
+The room was thus admirably situated for people in our precarious
+position, having a look-out back and front, and a way of escape right and
+left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cherry-cheeked lass who had thrown me the kiss was tripping past the
+door as I opened it. She told me that she had been attending on ''er
+ladyship,' and willingly led me to a bedroom and brought me thither the
+things I needed for my sluicing, among them a passable razor and a
+huckaback fit to fetch the hide off a horse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Give me now the kiss you threw me," said I, as she was turning to leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, sir," she said. "You're not in trouble now, and dunna need it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lassie," said I, "that's a right womanly reply, and here's something to
+buy a ribbon with that shall be worthy of you." And I gave her one of the
+dead Major's guineas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank yer, sir," she said. "And besides there's no need for you to be
+kissing the likes of me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're a sweetly pretty lassie," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Y' dunna want to be gawpin' around after pennies when there's guineas to
+be picked up," she replied, with a toss of her head. "Struth, I wish at
+times I wasna quite so pretty. There's some men, bless you, I know one
+myself, such fools that they think a pretty wench doesna want kissin'.
+But, sartin sure, there's never been the like of 'er ladyship in Newcastle
+in my time. I'll 'ave a ribbon on Sunday as near the colour and shine of
+'er ladyship's hair as money can buy, and Sail'll wish 'er'd never been
+born. I'll Sim 'er."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With this terrible threat she flounced out of the room, and I laughed and
+wondered who and what 'Sim' was. A decent fellow and a good tradesman, I
+hoped, and wished him pluck and luck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I was tidying myself up, my mind was busy with the strange tangle
+things were got into. The mysterious Master Freake, after turning the
+Mayor into his pliant tool, had apparently disappeared. The Colonel had
+not breathed a word of explanation, and seemed to feel so secure that he
+was dawdling in the town as if no enemy were at hand. Of the state of
+affairs in the town itself I knew nothing. The one clear thing was that I
+had got my neck right into the noose, and Brocton could, and would, pull
+tight at the first opportunity. What did all this matter? What did any
+untoward event or result matter? I was going to be a soldier, and, after
+the fashion of love-lorn Cherry-Cheeks, I said to myself, "I'll Jack him!"
+I was going to be near Margaret, and, so rejoicing, bethought me of the
+hapless Roman's "<i>Infelix, properas ultima nosse mala.</i>" And what did
+that matter either? I rubbed myself the colour of a love-apple, humming
+the while old-time ditties long since driven out of my head by the Latin
+rubbish. Jack was right. Of course it was rubbish. "Latin be damned," said
+I gleefully. "Nothing counts but life and love."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was more than a pinch of swagger in me as I made my way back to the
+passage overlooking the yard. Arrived there, I cautiously opened the
+nearest lattice and peered out. The inn-yard was dark and silent, and I
+was on the point of closing the window when I heard the clatter of hoofs
+on the stone-paving under the archway. A moment later a man on foot came
+in sight, and was followed into the yard by two men on horseback, one of
+them in charge of a led horse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At once all was bustle. Ostlers ran up with lanterns, and the host came
+forward, candle in hand and a multitude of words on his tongue, to order
+things aright.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man afoot was Master Freake, and it was clear that the riders were
+men of his, for I heard him ask them if they were quite clear as to their
+instructions, and both answered respectfully that they were. I could see
+they wore swords and that their horses were splendid, powerful animals,
+not much inferior to Sultan himself. Who and what was this man--"plain
+John Freake," as he called himself,--who carried large sums of money,
+domineered over self-important burgesses and mayors, who was served by
+such well-appointed horsemen, whom Master Dobson, a parliament man,
+feared, and my Lord Brocton had thought it worth while to attempt to put
+out of the way?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a riddle I could not read, but as I stood there, peering round the
+half-open lattice at the scene below, I was happier than ever I had been
+in my life. "Poor old Jack," said I to myself, "sweating and swearing over
+your riff-raff dragooners, and here am I, who envied you yester-morn, on
+the top rung of life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall get it if we're late," said Mistress Margaret playfully in my
+ear. "Not because dad worries whether he eats or not, but because he's so
+strong on mil-it-ary dis-cip-line." I write the words so, as a poor, paper
+imitation of the mincing gait she could put into her speech, which was
+ever one of her delightfulnesses. "You'd have been the better," she went
+on, "for a bringing-up on a troop-sergeant's switch. See what it's done
+for me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So she challenged me to admire her, and indeed I think that the witch was
+verily bent on casting a spell over me. No words can paint her as she
+stood in the dim-lit passage, the infinite sum of womanhood, peerless in
+every grace and gift; not now the tense, proud Margaret of the quick
+rebuke and the shattering sarcasm, but the mirthful, trustful, grateful
+companion of our boy-and-girl escapade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think you're right, madam," said I. "Bloggs, dear old chap, flogged
+the meaning of Virgil into me, but I wish he had flogged in some of the
+meaning of life along with it. I feel as helpless as Saul would have felt
+with David's sling and stones."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you as one fighting a Goliath?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am," said I, not able now to speak lightly, and not daring to look at
+her. Could any enterprise be more hopeless than the one my heart, against
+all the strivings of sense and reason, was beginning to set me? Through
+the open lattice I watched the flicker of lanterns in the yard, where the
+horses were being upped and whoaed stablewards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will favour me, sir, with your escort into supper," said Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This brought me to myself with a jerk. I closed the lattice, offered her
+my arm, and we walked towards the guest-room where the Colonel was
+awaiting us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think you'd better revise your knowledge of the Scriptures, Master
+Oliver," said she very quietly as I led her into the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In what respect, Mistress Margaret?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You seem to have an imperfect recollection of the way in which Goliath
+met his death. It's idle to say we're late, dad, when supper's not yet
+served."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He exploded into words I did not understand. "It's all right, only
+French," whispered Margaret mischievously. "It means 'name of a dog.' I
+could swear better myself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's right," stormed the Colonel. "As fast as I curse soldiering into
+one ear of him, you coax it out of the other! I'll be thankful when you're
+under Mother Patterson's wing in Chester."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The coming of Cherry-Cheeks and one of the hard-favoured maids with the
+supper, followed by our host with the wine, followed in turn by Master
+Freake, put an end to my first lesson in soldiering and the imprecatory
+wealth of continental languages, and straightway the host slopped over
+with apologies for the delay in serving the supper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Things are a bit upset in the town, y' mun know," he said, "and every
+wench in the 'Rising Sun' 'as been a devil unknobbed all day. This
+red-faced hussy here, when 'er was wanted to set the table, was off to see
+if that spindle-shanked Sim across at the Mayor's was safe and sound. And
+besides, my lady and y'r 'onours, the famous steak-and-kidney puddin' o'
+the 'Rising Sun' must be boiled to a bubble or it's dummacked. If one got
+spiled, the news 'ud run down to Chester and up to London in no time, and
+the 'Red Lion' 'ud get all my customers. His Grace of Kingston put up at
+the 'Red Lion' in all innocence until his worship, for old friendship's
+sake and a bottle of brandy, 'ticed 'im over 'ere to one of my puddin's.
+'E started an inch off the table and ate till 'e touched, as we say in
+Staffordsheer, and then sent for 'is baggage, and 'as lain 'ere ever since
+in the great bedchamber over y'r yeds, an' I'm thinking to call it the
+Duke's Room an' charge sixpence extra for it. It's worth another sixpence
+to sleep in the same bed as a duke's slep' in. If it ain't, by gom, I'd
+like to know what he is for. Damn if y'r can tell by lukkin' at 'im."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What I have for convenience' sake set down here as a continuous speech
+addressed to us all, was really a series of remarks addressed to whichever
+of us appeared for the moment to be listening, and broken by commands,
+scoldings, and threats addressed to the women. The tail-end of his remarks
+made me cock my ear, for it indicated that we were at the centre of the
+danger zone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I were you," interposed Master Freake at last, "I'd coax Prince
+Charlie to sleep in it and then charge a shilling extra. A prince, and my
+dislike of his ways doesn't unprince him, is surely worth twice as much as
+a duke."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Swelp me bob," cried the delighted host, slapping his thigh in high
+glee, "that 'ud be better than a murder. It's wunnerful how a murder 'elps
+a 'ouse. Tek the 'Quiet Woman' o' Madeley. There was a murder there, and a
+damn poor thing of a murder it was, nothing but a fudge-mounter cuttin' a
+besom-filer's throat; poor wench, 'er lived up on th' Higherland yonder,
+and I'll bet it was wuth two-and-twenty barrel of beer to owd Wat. A
+murder's clean providential to a pub--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn, get out," vociferated the Colonel, "or I'll provide the murder and
+you the corpse."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The meal, be it said, was thoroughly good in every way. I'm not the man
+to despise my belly, and I don't hold with those that do. There are better
+things in life than steak-and-kidney puddings, but my experience is they
+want a lot of finding. The Colonel would not hear of any talk about our
+affairs till supper was over. "I dare say you're all agog to know what
+I've been doing and what we are going to do," he said to me. "That's
+because you're a youngster at everything and a mere infant-in-arms at
+soldiering. When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that the
+only things really worth bothering about are supper and bed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argument
+with Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if I
+remember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a rare
+treat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with a
+mischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, but
+I prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radiance
+of her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're a
+brute."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her hand
+beneath the hawthorns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who was
+right about the dog's life?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The host was rung for, his supper praised to his heart's content, the
+table cleared, and a dish of tea ordered for Margaret. Bethinking me of
+the sergeant's tuck, which might be useful, I asked the host to bring it
+up, and he did so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we were again left to ourselves, the Colonel took the sword, and
+examined it with his skilful eyes and practised hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Somewhat heavy," said he, "but well balanced and well made, and of the
+truest steel. Are you a swordsman, Master Wheatman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never had one in my hand in my life till to-day," was my reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gird him for the wars, Margaret," said he. "So much of the ancient rules
+and customs of chivalry as can be observed in these mechanic days shall,
+by us at any rate, be observed. In strict law you ought to have spent a
+night in prayer and fasting, but your loyal service to Margaret is a good
+equivalent. To labour is to pray, say the parsons, and, my lad, always
+remember in your soldiering that a so-minded man can offer up a powerful
+prayer between pull of trigger and flash of priming. Kneel, Oliver, and in
+God's sight you shall be more truly knighted than any capering and
+chattering of German Geordie's can contrive."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And so, in the guest-room of the "Rising Sun," I knelt to my sweet
+mistress, and, before God and in the presence of Christopher Waynflete,
+Colonel of Horse in the service of the King of Sweden, and John Freake,
+citizen of London, Margaret, gravely and serenely beautiful, touched my
+shoulder with the sword and then girded it upon me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sirs," she said, addressing her father and Master Freake, "the accolade
+has never been given to a worthier." Then, bending swiftly as a swallow
+dips in its flight over the meadows, she whispered emphatically in my
+ears, "Yokel it no more!"
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>PHARAOH'S KINE</h3>
+
+<p>
+"And now to business," said Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To pleasure, sir," said the Colonel. "Business is over."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was leisurely filling his pipe, an example which Margaret, with a
+smile and a nod, gave me permission to follow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tell us how you escaped," said Margaret. "Master Wheatman cannot too
+soon begin to learn the tricks of the trade. Sorry, dad," bending to kiss
+his hand; "you needn't look at me in German. I mean rudiments of the
+profession."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A woman who calls soldiering a trade ought to be forcibly married to a
+parson," said the Colonel passionately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There'll be a reasonable quantity of parsons to choose from at Chester,"
+she retorted, laughing up in his face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Chester? Why Chester?" demanded Master Freake, suddenly tense and
+vigilant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I need name no name, but a certain dignitary's lady there, one of our
+supporters, undertook to take her in charge while this affair was on,"
+explained the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake, it seemed to me, was disappointed with the explanation,
+and, knowing that what Margaret wanted was to have the rumour of her
+father's intended treachery blown to pieces by his own account, I said,
+"There's only one parson in England fit to look at Mistress Margaret, and
+he's sixty and married. Let me learn, I pray you, sir, the art of slipping
+out of the hands of a squad of dragoons on a road crowded with soldiery."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If you think you are to hear a tale that will make you grip the arms of
+your chairs, you're in for a sad disappointment. Yesterday and through the
+night, they stuck to me as if Geordie had offered thirty thousand pounds
+for me, dead or alive, but this morning their hold on me slackened. They
+might have intended me to escape. I was put on a fresh horse, about the
+best they'd got; the dragoon in charge of me was three parts drunk when we
+started; we got mixed up in a crowd of foot retreating south, and
+separated from our main body, and finding myself alone on the road with
+one man, and him drunk, I just knocked him off his horse, and cleared off
+across the fields.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I rode on until I got a sight of this town, and the main road into it,
+from a hill-top, and watched for an hour or so to see what was happening.
+I knew by my pace that I was well ahead of my late escort, and seeing no
+signs of them, came on to this inn, and was enjoying a good dinner when I
+saw Sultan and Oliver on him. The rest you know. Not much of a tale. Madge
+has done better many a time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you really think the Captain intended you to escape?" It was Margaret
+who asked the question, looking intently at me as she spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked from her to Master Freake and back again, meaning to remind her
+that I wanted no convincing, but she still kept her eyes on mine, her chin
+cupped in her long white hands, and I was glad of her insistence for I
+could look at her without offence. I thought the mellow fire-light made
+her look more beautiful than ever. The lustrous yellow hair shone like
+molten gold, and the dark blue eyes became a queenly purple.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If it were done on purpose it was done cleverly," continued the Colonel,
+"for the chance which set me free came quite naturally. The horse I rode
+yesterday was wanted in the usual way by a trooper to whom it belonged,
+and where so many men were more or less drunk, the choice of my particular
+drunkard was certainly accidental. And, besides, what possible motive
+could there be in letting me escape? Brocton knows I'm an experienced
+soldier of great repute--I state plain facts--and am eagerly expected by
+the Prince and by my old companion-in-arms, Geordie Murray. They couldn't
+have planned it better if they had wished it, but it's absurd to say they
+wished it. There ought to be a cashiered captain and a half-flayed dragoon
+somewhere south of us. Damme, I merit that at least."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bent over the hearth to relight his pipe. Master Freake smiled and
+rubbed his hands gently. Margaret's eyes blazed with triumph, and
+challenged me, still me, to share it. Woman-logic was clean beyond my poor
+wits. I was sick for action. These glorious interludes with Margaret gave
+me no chance. It was like setting me afire and asking me not to burn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thinking of the poor, half-flayed devil behind us, made me think of the
+sergeant, and I asked Master Freake, "Did you give the sergeant his papers
+and letter?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," was the ready reply. "The papers dealt rather frankly with certain
+regimental accounts, and, since the sergeant is now very bitterly set
+against us, may be useful in my hands. I had a shrewd notion that the
+letter concerned the title to certain lands as to which Lord Brocton and I
+are at odds, and on opening it I found to my satisfaction that I was
+right. With your permission, Oliver, I will keep it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By all means do so," said I, anxious to burn again, and turning back to
+Margaret. If this silent, capacious man, so great a stranger yet so clear
+a friend, had said that the letter was about a new edition of Virgil, I
+should have believed him, and also, I fear me, have been equally
+uninterested. Latin be damned!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Something for you in Oliver's magic-hat," said Margaret smilingly to
+Master Freake. "He really must fetch something out for himself soon.
+Staffordshire is by far the most delightful country I have ever been in.
+Only one little day has gone by, and in that day Staffordshire has given
+me more and truer friends than Europe gave me in ten years. I shall cross
+its borders with regret. Shall we make the most of it while we have it and
+sleep here, dad?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Unless we're routed out," was his reply, "and I do not think we shall
+be, for the enemy have all cleared out of the town. Cumberland is, of
+course, doing the right thing. He had few men north of Stafford, and fewer
+still worth powder and shot. Where the Prince is I've no idea."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Resting for the day at Macclesfield," said Master Freake, "and his plans
+are not certain, or, at least, not known. The Duke of Kingston has a small
+body of horse at Congleton and is watching his movements."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme," the Colonel broke in, "I did not know we had enemies north of
+us. Are you sure?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certain. One of my men reported the facts to me just before supper."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's awkward, or rather will be awkward if anyone who knows me turns up.
+That rascally landlord of ours must have known where Kingston was, but
+amid all his talk he never told me that. Damme, somebody's got hold of
+him. Still, you can't take the bull by the horns till his nose is
+slobbering your waistcoat, so pass the wine, Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He refilled his glass and then, leisurely and with his eyes dreamily
+fixed on the fire, loaded his pipe with a new charge of tobacco, and went
+on smoking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you a Jacobite?" suddenly asked Margaret, looking inquiringly at
+Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear me, no, Mistress Margaret," was the frank reply. "But you need not
+curl those sweet lips of yours, for neither am I a Hanoverian."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then what are you?" she asked again, with the same uncompromising
+directness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A Freakeiteian," said he with a smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It puzzles me," was her brief comment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let me explain," said he simply. "A Jacobite wants Charles to win; a
+Hanoverian wants George to win; a Freakeiteian wants to know who is going
+to win."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time Margaret was no more puzzled than I was. Yesterday when I
+stood on the river-bank watching my cork, I cared not a rap whether George
+or Charles won, and that was an understandable position; but why a man
+should be spending money in handfuls, and roughing it in the wilds of
+Staffordshire, merely in order to know who was going to win, was beyond my
+poor wits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You do not understand?" he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said Margaret and I together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel took no notice. He was puffing away at his pipe,
+long-drawn-out, solemn puffs, and gazing at the fire in a brown study.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Margaret and Oliver," said Master Freake, "this is no time to be
+giving you lessons in the way the great world wags that neither knows nor
+cares of outs and ins and party shufflings, but is busy with rents and
+crops, and incomings and outgoings, and debts and credits, and wivings and
+thrivings. But, believe me, in being anxious to know who is going to win,
+I am as plainly and simply doing my duty as is the Colonel who is going to
+do his best to help his Prince to win. I am one, and, I thank God, not the
+least, of that great race of men who are destined to mould a mightier
+England than the sword could ever carve--the merchant of London whose nod
+is his bond."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke with simple dignity and his word was established. I had trusted
+him on sight. "His nod was his bond." You saw it in the man's clear,
+steady eyes and knew it by the set of his firm, square chin. After a
+warning glance at the silent Colonel, he leaned forward, and Margaret bent
+to meet him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If Charles loses," he murmured, "many heads will be smitten from their
+shoulders."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The colour left her cheeks instantly and tears welled forth from her eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But not the Colonel's," he whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was watching her with the eye of a hawk. A smile dawned on the white
+face, the sad eyes began to lose their gloom, and my fool of a heart began
+to flutter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet once more he whispered, "And not Oliver's."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She leaned farther forward still and kissed him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And it was just at that moment that the door opened smartly and
+Cherry-Cheeks put her sweet head round it and swiftly and peremptorily
+beckoned me outside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret laughed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the dim passage, Cherry-Cheeks caught my hand affrightedly and
+babbled, "Oh, sir, there's the ugliest beast you ever saw spying on her
+ladyship. Take your boots off, sir, and creep after me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I tugged them off and we started. Along the passage she flew and upstairs
+into the corresponding passage above. Here, outside the Duke's room, she
+stopped and whispered, "He'll think I'm that bitch Sal. Hide behind me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She opened the door and stole into the room with me in tow, holding her
+skirt and crouching down nearly to the floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was somewhat broad in the beam, like a Dutch hoy, and all I could see
+was a dull glimmer somewhere ahead in the darkness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ssss-h, damn ye," said the beast fiercely. "Stand still!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cherry-Cheeks took care not to stop till near the light, and then, with
+wonderful ready wit, put her right hand on her hip and I peeped through
+between arm and waist.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Full length on his belly lay the man from Yarlet Bank. There was a small
+spy-hole in the floor, on the edge of the hearth, and he had his right ear
+against it, which was lucky, for it kept his face turned from me. The
+notebook lay open on the floor near a guttering tallow candle in an iron
+candlestick, and the stump of pencil was clenched in his dirty yellow
+teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I threw my handkerchief on the floor, took my fat little Virgil in my
+left hand, and crept out to him. When near on top of him, I gripped him
+round the nape of the neck, digging my fingers in his flabby throat, and
+he went slimy with fright like a great, fat lob-worm. I swooped down on
+him with my full weight, and pinned him to the floor. His big mouth opened
+as he fought for breath, and I clapped the Virgil hard and far into it,
+tying it tight in with my handkerchief, and gagging him effectually.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked up and found, to my relief, that Cherry-Cheeks, like a sensible
+girl, had crept out of the room, and her share in the affair was never
+even suspected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawing my tuck, I touched the back of his neck with the point. He
+flinched and squirmed, great drops of sweat larded his nasty face, and I
+knew the fear of death and hell was in his marrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do exactly what I say," I whispered, "or through it goes. Understand?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He could hardly nod his ugly head for the trembling of his body, and I
+fairly dithered as I knelt on him. I made him rise, and then caught hold
+of the skirt of his coat. Holding him by it at arm's length, I stuck my
+point to his neck again, and said, "Forward."
+
+I marched him downstairs and along the passage. There was great risk of
+being met by some one, and it was the most anxious time I had had since
+the affair with the sergeant in the house-place at the Hanyards. Oddly
+enough, as I drove him along, the thought came to me of the bygone days
+when Jack and I had played horses just like this at the Hanyards, and when
+my prisoner stuck a trifle at the door of the guest-room, I growled at
+him, "Come up!" It was a strange trick of the mind. To me he was just
+play-horse Jack dawdling to look at ten-year-old Kate feeding her
+chickens.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I got him in unseen without and unnoticed within, for the Colonel and
+Master Freake were again at their arguments of state, hammer and tongs,
+and they minded the click of the door behind them no more than the crack
+of a spark at their feet. Indeed the Colonel said "Pish!" with great
+vehemence, and Master Freake's "My dear sir!" had a shake of pepper in it.
+As for me, I like a man who, when he gets into a thing, gets into it up to
+the neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret added to my amusement, for as I pricked my prisoner on into the
+fire-light, and peeped over his shoulder, he being a good six inches
+shorter than I, madam leaned forward and became absorbed in the high
+debate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I beg to report, sir," said I, as indifferently as I could manage to
+speak, "the capture of a spy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hang him at daybreak," said the Colonel, without so much as looking at
+him. "Pish, man, the trade in salted herrings is no more a nursery of
+seamen than I'm--Damme, what's this, Oliver? Damme, it's Weir. Your
+servant, Mister Weir, and I shall vastly relish seeing you strung up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave a brief account of where and how I had found him, making no
+mention of our helpful girl friend, but pointing out that he had
+co-scoundrels at work for him in the inn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Another good piece of work, Oliver," said the Colonel. "I like the way
+you use your available material. I've seen many things used as gags, but
+not a book before; yet it makes a very good one. Keeps him quiet as a
+stone and withal leaves him free to lick up a few crumbs of learning."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret had not looked at me yet, and indeed seemed bent on keeping her
+face, heightened in colour by the warmth and glow of the fire, turned away
+from me. Now a rather big matter had come into my mind, so I said
+urgently, "Name of a dog," and thus shook her into looking at me.
+Whereupon, I pointed first to Mr. Freake, then to the spy, and wagged my
+head sagely. Her quick mind saw at once that I was afraid that our friend
+would be compromised if we were not careful. She promptly said something
+to her father in an unknown tongue, and by the cock of his eye I knew he'd
+taken the point.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My good friend," he said, "pray step over to his worship the Mayor and
+ask him to come over and commit this rascally spy to the town jail. Say, I
+beg, that I am grieved to have to disturb him, but His Majesty's servants
+must ever be at the disposal of His Majesty's affairs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I grinned behind the spy's back at this masterly way of getting George's
+servant to do James's work. Master Freake started at once, and, stepping
+with him to the door, I whispered, "Give us fifteen minutes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Right!" he whispered back again. "Look in your holsters!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he had gone, the Colonel ordered me to guard the door, and
+this gave me the chance of putting on my boots again. The Colonel, cutting
+off with his sword a good length of bell rope, made a swift and most
+workmanlike job of tying the spy into a knot. He then opened the window,
+and, Margaret taking my place meanwhile, he and I cautiously bundled Weir
+on to the balcony, shut down the window, and left him safe and silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be in the porch in ten minutes, Margaret, ready to start. Oliver, get
+the horses there ready in that time. You ride the troop-horse, and Freake
+has provided a mare for Margaret. Quick's the work and sharp's the motion!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret and I started together to carry out our orders. Once in the
+passage we had to go different ways, and I bowed and was going mine
+without a word, when she put her hand on my arm and stayed me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sorry you've lost your Virgil," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wondered, as already so many times I had wondered, at the somersaults
+of feeling she was capable of. Where was now the Margaret of the short,
+disdainful laugh? Not here, in the twilight between the bright room and
+the black yard. Here was a subtle, mysterious Margaret, half regret and
+half caprice, with one thought in her eyes and another on her lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So am I, madam. I wish it had been Kate's cookery-book."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She would have mastered me had I stayed another second. I bowed again and
+left her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And this is, perhaps, the best place to say that I did not lose my Virgil
+after all. Here it is on the table as I write, still the dearest of all my
+books. On each side of the healing an irregular curve of teeth-marks cuts
+into the yellowing parchment. Dear, brave Cherry-Cheeks sent it home by
+the hands of a vagrom pedlar, laboriously and exactly writing on the
+package the inscription she found on the fly leaf:
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ OLIVER WHEATMAN, Esquire,<br>
+ of the Hanyards,<br>
+ Staffordshire,<br>
+ <i>Aetatis anno</i> 13
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I routed out ostlers, and by dint of a judicious blend of cursings and
+bribings had the horses ready under the archway in time. Margaret was
+there waiting, with our pretty maid fluttering around her. The Colonel was
+within, settling with the word-warrior host. I helped Margaret into the
+saddle and led her horse into the street, turning its head northward. In a
+moment, her father clattered after her on Sultan. I went back to smile
+farewell to Cherry-Cheeks and deal out my bribes, but was after them
+before they had trotted a stone's throw.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were cantering towards the bridge by which the high street of the
+town crosses a tiny streamlet and again becomes the high road to the
+north-west. It was only a pistol-shot from the portico of the "Rising Sun"
+to the hither side of the bridge, where a group of townsmen were collected
+round a man with a lantern. We had ridden forth into a strangely quiet
+town, but before I was half-way to the bridge, and not yet settled down to
+my saddle, loud shrieks rang out behind me. Looking back, I saw a woman
+leaning forth, candle in hand, from the Duke's bedroom window. She waved
+her light and yelled as one distraught. There was no mistaking what had
+happened. Sal, the sour-faced hussy who wanted me hanged, had learned the
+fate of the spy. Folks rushed from all quarters to see what was the
+matter. The sooner we were well out of it the better, and I pricked on to
+overtake the Colonel and Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was near on them at the bridge, where the gossips had lined up to watch
+them pass. Timothy was there, thankful for once, I thought, of his long
+coat, while the man who held the lantern was the man to whom I owed a
+drubbing. I wondered what he was doing there with a lantern, for it was a
+brilliant moonlight night, and, since he made to run townwards as soon as
+he saw who was passing, I felt in my bones that he meant mischief and was
+probably in league with the spy. I turned my horse at him before he was
+clear of the bridge and tumbled him back headlong on Timothy, who yelled
+the most astonishing yell I ever heard, snatched the lantern out of Beery
+Breath's unresisting fingers, and with it smashed into him with such a
+fury that he beat him to his knees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I laughed, for the man had got his drubbing after all, through me if not
+by me. As for the other townies, they enjoyed it like a play.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom!" said one. "He's trod on Tim's gammy toe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn if he don't turn on 'is missus when 'er does that," said another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel and Margaret were looking back when I drew level.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Anything the matter?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The spy is discovered, sir," I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Does that mean harm to Master Freake?" inquired Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not it," replied the Colonel. "He's got the Mayor in his pocket. Do you
+know this country, Oliver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, sir," was my answer. "Only in broad outline. This is the main road
+to Chester, and away on our right is an open country running up into
+roughish moorland and hills. Leek lies that way on the Derby road to
+London. The country to our left I know nothing about."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then we'll stick to the main road as long as possible and stop at the
+first inn after all danger-spots are behind us. Sorry to turn you out,
+Madge, but it was impossible to stop once Weir found us out, since
+Kingston and his men might have turned up at any moment, and then we
+should have been done for. All we have to do is to get north of him. From
+the south we have nothing to fear now. Brocton's dragoons would have
+turned up hours ago if there was any intention of trying to recapture me.
+Freake had sent one of his men down the road to give us time to clear off
+if Brocton did pursue. That was why I was content to stay on at the inn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Weir knows who you are, sir, I take it?" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Exactly. He's a notorious Government spy, and is busy here worming into
+our local plans. There are plenty of the honest party hereabouts, and
+especially over to the west there in Wales."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are we still in Staffordshire, Master Wheatman?" asked Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh yes, for quite a distance ahead," I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The spirit of prophecy is upon me, gentlemen," she said merrily. "Our
+Staffordshire luck is not yet out, and this time it's Master Wheatman's
+turn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, then, Master Wheatman shall ride ahead and scout for it. About
+thirty yards, Oliver. Keep your horse well in hand, and be all eyes and
+ears. Damn this moon! It picks us out like three crows on a field of snow,
+and this infernal road's as straight and level as a plank. Ride in any
+available shadow!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went ahead and set them an easy pace. Work had begun again, the work of
+my heart's desire, and all along the Chester road there was no blither
+spirit than mine that night. I was astride a flaming sorrel, no match for
+Sultan, but still a good sound horse. He knew I was his master and so I
+made him a friend, patting his neck, crooning to him, and giving him a
+lick of sugar out of my hand. The danger we were in was like wine to my
+heart. Enemies ahead and enemies behind, and this bare, bleak,
+moon-smitten road between. Now and again, for remembrance' sake and the
+joy of it, I cocked my ear to pick out the patter of Margaret's mare from
+the heavier, longer strides of Sultan. Yes, there she was, doubtless
+murmuring Italian love-ditties to her happy inmost self and thinking of
+--Pshaw! This was romancing, and another's romance at that, and it
+deadened me against my will, while here was a man's work to do. So I
+turned to it and lived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I examined the holsters, according to Master Freake's orders. I found a
+pair of pistols which, even in the pale moonlight, looked what they indeed
+were--handsome, accurate weapons, the best work of the best gunsmith in
+London. I was the equal of most men with the pistol, and usually had,
+indeed, a capital pair at the Hanyards, but Jack had taken them off with
+him on his dragooning. Over and above the pistols and their ammunition I
+found a sizeable leathern bag, and the feel of it to my fingers showed
+that it was chock-full of money. When I did turn it out next day, I found
+near on sixty pounds, mostly in guineas and half-guineas, and a note:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dear lad, this town is very bare of guineas and many of them are lighter
+than the law alloweth, but you shall have more as occasion offers.--Your
+friend, J. F."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turned to the road again with a merrier heart than ever, for I thought,
+as Smite-and-spare-not would have thought before me, that the very
+handiwork of God Himself was here displayed, in that the seemingly most
+untoward events of our journey had been turned into means of strength and
+assurance. Had I, as I ought to have done, brought money of my own from
+the Hanyards, I should never have started highwayman, and so never have
+met Master Freake on Wes'on Bank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Three miles or more we made in this manner, and I had heard nothing more
+alarming than the hoot of an owl from an ivy-crusted elm. Some distance
+back the road had climbed slightly for a space, then fallen into the level
+again, and now ran, open and unhedged, across the bleaky top of a barren
+upland. I chirruped to the sorrel and gave him another lick of sugar to
+comfort him. A moment later, I knew by the forward cock of his ears and
+the swift up-shake of his head that something was in the wind, and
+strained my own ears to listen, for there was nothing of note visible
+ahead or around.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From far ahead came the faint rattle of hoofs on the hard road. I pulled
+up, and, a moment later, Margaret and the Colonel stopped beside me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it?" asked the latter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Horse coming this way, sir," was my reply. The sounds were already
+plainer. For a full minute he listened carefully. "A good number of them,
+and making a smart pace," he said. "It can only be Kingston's advance
+guard falling back. Most likely the van of the Highlanders has beaten up
+their quarters. Once past them we shall be--Hello! Slids! What's that?
+Reinforcements! Egad. Oliver, we're between the hammer and the anvil."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned his head round sharply and so did Margaret and I. From behind
+us came again the unmistakable rattle of a body of horse. We were trapped
+completely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is damned annoying," said the Colonel. He looked casually around,
+as indifferently as he would have looked round the guest-room of the
+"Rising Sun," and added, "Follow me, and ride as if the devil were at your
+tail."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned off into the bare, flat country, and we after him. How we rode!
+He was making for a little group of trees, some dozen wind-sown pines,
+stuck like a forlorn picket in enemy country a stone's-throw from the
+road. We got there in a bunch, for there was no time for Sultan's pace to
+count.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn the moon!" he said, and dismounted. "But this is better than
+nothing. Take off Margaret's saddle, Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I got down, and assisted Margaret to dismount. She thanked me, briefly
+and smilingly, as unperturbed as the gaunt pine beneath which she stood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel and I changed the saddles, and in a few seconds Margaret was
+on Sultan. I asked him in vain to take the sorrel and leave the mare to
+me, for she was getting restive, and the Colonel was not quite so able as
+I was with a strange horse. I insisted, however, in taking off my coat and
+wrapping it about the mare's head, and, being thus blanketed, she gave us
+no further trouble. By the Colonel's orders, Margaret, on Sultan, took her
+place between us, heading for the open country, while he and I turned to
+the road. The thin, straggling pine-branches cast but little shadow, and I
+knew it was next to impossible for us to pass unnoticed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Madge," said the Colonel, "it's bound to come to a fight. As soon
+as the fun begins, off you go like the wind into this bog-hole in front of
+you, and in five minutes you'll be out of danger. Make a detour round to
+the road again, keep the moon behind your back, and push on to the nearest
+inn. Oliver and I will join you there, if so God wills. If we don't,
+you're on the Chester road. Have you your money still?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, dad."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You understand, Madge?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite clearly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then kiss me, sweetheart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She kissed him without a word, and turned to look goodbye to me. For a
+moment I went all aquiver with emotion. This wonderful new life of mine
+had at times to be lived in the outskirts and suburbs of death.
+Fortunately, a thought came into my head, and I tugged out the leathern
+bag and thrust it into her hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't leave that under the bed," said I, and, being very bold, as one
+may be with death at one's door, I drew her gloved hand, with the bag in
+it, towards me, and kissed it. She said nothing to me, but the light in
+her eyes was like moonlight on the dancing surface of a mountain spring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look to your pistols, Oliver," ordered the Colonel briefly and crisply.
+"See your tuck slips easy in the scabbard. Another minute will decide. You
+and I can easily give Madge all the start Sultan requires."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Easily, sir," I answered stoutly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad!" said the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Margaret, leaning across until her lips were near my cheek as I bent
+to see what she wanted, said, for the third time, "Well done, fisherman!"
+I laughed lightly and was glad, for was not this calm, brave, splendid
+woman thinking of how we two had met?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the first cock of the sorrel's ears to this so characteristic remark
+of Margaret's could not have been five minutes, and now, although owing to
+the downward slope to our left I have mentioned, and its corresponding
+slope to the right, neither body was yet in sight, they were so nearly on
+us that differences between them became obvious. The southern troup was
+small, was not travelling beyond a smart trot, and was, so far as the men
+were concerned, absolutely quiet. The body from the north was large, was
+forcing a hot gallop, and much noise and shouting came from the troopers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was plain that we were in for it. The men from Newcastle were no doubt
+coming north as a reinforcement, but it was absurd to suppose that they
+had not been told of our doings and of our escape northwards. They had not
+overtaken us, and we must be on the road somewhere. The men from the north
+had not met us. Never since the world began had two and two been easier to
+put together. There was only one place for us to be in and this was it. A
+short parley, a glance our way, and an overwhelming force would dash at
+the picket of pines.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bare road lay there in the moonlight, half a mile of it in clear view
+on either hand. The two bodies came in sight within a few seconds of each
+other, and the Colonel snapped his fingers and chuckled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the north a wild rush of spurring, flogging, shouting, cursing
+horsemen, about a hundred of them. No order, no discipline, no soldiership
+--nothing but mad haste and madder fear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mare began to plunge, and the Colonel, leaping off, nearly strangled
+her in the coat. The sorrel got uneasy but gave me no real trouble. Sultan
+took not the slightest notice of the din behind him, and leisurely cropped
+the tough bussocks of grass at his feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked to the road again. The southern body was small, not more than a
+score, compact, riding smartly but with military order and precision. The
+man at their head, the officer in command, no doubt, spurred on and began
+to shout at the oncoming northerners. He might as well have spoken fair
+words to an avalanche, and the men behind him began to waver and most of
+them pulled up. It was useless. The torrent swept into them and bore them
+backward, tumbling some of them over, men and horses together, but
+incorporating most of them in its own madness. In less than five minutes
+the last batch of dragooners had cursed and spurred themselves out of
+sight, and the bright moon shone down on a road once more bare and white
+save for a few scattered patches of black.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel uncovered the mare's head and nuzzled her. All he said was,
+but that very gleefully, "Geordie, my boy, I'll be routing you out of St.
+James's within the fortnight. I'll learn you to neglect the King of
+Sweden's Colonels! Damme, Oliver, it made me think of Pharaoh's kine--one
+lot eating the other up. Now, sweetheart my Madge, we'll have your pretty
+eyes a-bye-bye in no time."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never saw anything so funny in my life," said Margaret. "On with your
+coat, Oliver, before you take cold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From all of which I learned to take, as they did, the fat with the lean
+in soldiering, and not to care a brass farthing which it was. Still, I was
+as yet so young at the game, that, though I was careful to swagger it out
+and say nothing, I did wonder why the body from the south was so small.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And I wonder as I write whether it was or was not the mistake of my life
+merely to wonder then.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2>
+
+<h3>"WAR HAS ITS RISKS"</h3>
+
+<p>
+I slept unsoundly and in snatches. Margaret was in the room beneath me,
+"dreaming in Italian," thought I, in unhappy imitation of her dainty gibe
+at her father. A problem was on my mind, and that was ever with me an
+enemy to sleep. I meant being the best of soldiers, and this that worried
+me was a military problem. To be short, I could not help asking myself,
+"Were the dragoons from the south intended as a reinforcement to the horse
+from the north?" And somehow I could not think they were. As the top-dog
+spirit in me put it: "It was like sending Jack to reinforce me. <i>Quod
+est absurdum</i>."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time the Explainer permits me to be frank. There was this other side to
+my problem that I could not bring myself to be sure the Colonel's escape
+had come merely by happy chance. He was no party to contriving it, of that
+I never doubted, but it did look like a contrivance. We had been at the
+"Rising Sun" for six hours or more. Stone, the nearest head-quarters of
+Cumberland's forces, was only nine miles south of it, yet no attempt had
+been made to follow the fugitive. No, thought I again, that's wrong. Weir
+was sent on his track and actually found him. But this was as useless, so
+it seemed, as sending twenty dragoons, hundreds being available, to
+reinforce a thousand stout horse. There was no proportion between the ends
+proposed and the means adopted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If the handful of dragoons were not a reinforcement, it was a pursuit of
+us, and this posed another problem. Why had the pursuit been allowed to
+flag all the afternoon and evening, to be taken up again far on in the
+night? What fresh fact, if any, had determined it? I could think of none,
+nor, on reflection, was one wanted, since both Master Freake and Jack had
+last night witnessed to the worn-out state of Brocton's horses.
+Consequently his dragoons would have been sent after the Colonel earlier
+had they been fit. Their coming, when fit, proved their anxiety to retake
+him. Therefore he was not allowed to escape, and the conclusion of my
+argument hit its major premise clean in the teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver, my boy," said I to myself, "say a bit of Virgil and go to sleep.
+These matters are beyond you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I picked on a passage and started mumbling it to myself. It was a lucky
+hit, for when I had in solemn whispers rolled off the great lines in the
+sixth Aeneid which foretell the work and glory of Rome, I thought of my
+Lord Ridgeley, thiever by cunning process of law of most of my ancient
+patrimony, and his blackguard son, my Lord Brocton, lustfully hunting the
+proud, gracious woman beneath, and I said grandiosely to myself, "Rome's
+destiny is thine too, Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, and these betitled
+scullions are the proud ones you shall war down."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The notion was so soothing that I fell asleep again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have leaped over uninteresting but by no means unimportant events. We
+were staying the night at a wayside hostel, called the "Red Bull,"
+situated at the point where a cross-road cut the main road. We were still
+in Staffordshire, a matter on which Margaret had laughingly placed the
+utmost importance, though an urchin, standing by the rude signpost, could
+have flung a pebble into Cheshire. Houseroom was of the narrowest, and I
+was tucked away in the attics, in a room I had to crawl about in
+two-double, walking upright being out of the question. It was the grown-up
+daughter's room, and she had been bundled out to make place for me, a fact
+I did not learn till it was beyond need of remedy. The lass had a good
+pleasant woman to mother, but her father, the host, was an
+ill-conditioned, surly runt, whose only good point was a still tongue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret was in the room below, and her father next to her along a narrow
+gangway. From my attic I got down to this gangway by means of a staircase
+hardly to be told from a ladder. The gangway, just past the Colonel's
+door, became a little landing whence three or four steps led down to a
+larger landing, from which one could mount up to the other and
+corresponding half of the house or descend to the entrance hall with which
+the various rooms of the ground floor connected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I awoke again in a dim dull dawn. Tired of these bouts of wakefulness I
+got off the bed--for I was lying full-dressed even to my boots--and crept
+softly to the window. I would keep watch and ward for Margaret, as a true
+knight oweth to do. Then, if my obscure misgivings were unfounded, I
+should at any rate have done my duty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There had been a slight fall of snow, enough to cover the ground and
+bring everything up into sharp relief. My window was a dormant-window, its
+sill being about four feet from the eaves. I flung it open, careful not to
+make a sound, pushed out head and shoulders, and took stock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I dipped my fingers in the snow and found there was near an inch of it.
+The "Red Bull" stood back from the road, and on each side of the inn
+proper, outhouses and stables jutted out to the wayside. Drawn up under a
+hovel on the left was a huge wagon piled with sacks, probably of barley
+bound for Leek, a town renowned for its ale.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without was silence and stillness, as of the grave, and it was nipping
+cold, but my mind was happily busy, having so many delicious moments to
+live over again. If by some unhappy chance I never saw her again and lived
+to be a hundred, I should never tire of my memories. She had as many
+facets as Mr. Pitt's diamond, as many tones as the great organ in
+Lichfield Cathedral. To know her had enriched my life and opened my mind.
+What Propertius had said of his Cynthia, I repeated to myself of my
+Margaret, <i>Ingenium nobis ipsa puella est</i>. 'My' Margaret! Well, it
+did her no harm for me to think it, and, after all, the sly, silly
+babblings of my under-self could be shouted down by the stern voice of
+common sense.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, under the stress of a new force, my thoughts flew off at a tangent,
+and I said to myself, "Bravo, Romeo! You shall find me a rare Juliet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had, indeed, much ado to keep from laughing aloud, as my situation was
+delicious, not to say delicate. For, on a sudden, noiselessly as the beat
+of a bat's wing, two feet of ladder had shot up above the eaves, and even
+now an ardent lover was hasting aloft, dreaming of lispings and kissings
+to come. I mustn't frighten him too soon or too much or he'd drop off, but
+as soon as he was fairly on the slope he should sip the sweetness of lips
+of steel. So I crept back, got a pistol, and stood to the left of the
+window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I waited till his body darkened the room and then took a furtive look at
+him. It was no village lover climbing up at peep of dawn to greet his
+lass. It was one of Brocton's dragoons, one of the five who had been at
+the Hanyards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a twink I shot him. Without a word, he slithered down the tiles,
+leaving a mush of blood-red snow. His right leg slipped aslant between two
+rungs of the ladder, and his body, checked in its fall, swung round and
+dangled over the eaves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the room was a large oaken clothes chest. I dragged it to the light,
+tilted it on end, and jammed it into the gable of the window, which,
+luckily, it fitted completely, and so blocked any further attack from the
+roof. Snatching up my weapons, I tumbled down the ladder, only to hear the
+heavy tramping of feet upstairs. Standing by Margaret's door, I waited
+until the head and shoulders of the first man came in sight. He carried a
+lantern, and its yellow rays lit up for me the ugly face of the sergeant
+of dragoons. I fired my second pistol at him, crashing the lantern to
+pieces. Down he went, whether hit or not I did not know. In the darkness I
+heard the rush of a second man who came on so fearlessly and fast that he
+was far into the passage before I met him with a fierce thrust of my
+rapier. I thrilled with the zeal of old Smite-and-spare-not as, for the
+first time, I felt the point of my rapier in a man's body, and drove it
+home with a yell. Down he went too, with a gurgle of blood in his throat,
+and Margaret, coming out of her room, stumbled over his body as she raced
+after me along the passage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel was at the stair-head before me, but there was, for the
+moment, no work for him. The enemy had tumbled noisily downstairs into the
+hall, and were collecting their scattered wits after their first rout. To
+my regret, the raucous cursings of the sergeant showed that he had not
+been killed and apparently not even hit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God damn ye!" he yelled. "Ten of you driven back like sheep by a raw
+youth. I'll settle with ye for it. Think I picked ye out of the stews and
+stink-holes of London to stand this? There isn't one of ye with the guts
+of a louse. I'll take the skin off the ribs of you for this, damn ye, and
+most of your pimp's flesh along with it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What sort of guts was it brought yow tumblin' down so quick?" put in the
+surly voice of the landlord. "Yow cudna 'a come any faster if yer blasted
+yed 'ad been blown to bits instead of my lantern."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some of the men laughed at this, whereon the sergeant blasphemed enough
+to make a devil from hell shiver. He cowed the dragoons, but the innkeeper
+only growled, "A three-bob lantern blown to bits! Fork out three bob!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll have him if I have to blow the house to bits!" vociferated the
+sergeant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fork out three bob!" repeated the host.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not a word had passed between us on the stair-head, and now, at the sound
+of preparations for a fresh assault, the Colonel took each of us by the
+arm and led us into his room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The stair-head cannot be held against fire from the opposite landing,"
+he whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When inside, he locked the door, and I helped him pile the bed on end
+behind it, heaping all the other furniture against the bed-frame to hold
+the mattress and bedding up against the door. Margaret, at a brief word of
+command, had meanwhile kept watch through the window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's a fair defence," he said contentedly. "What are these devils?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brocton's dragoons," said I. "I've settled two of them, one on the roof
+and one in the passage."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad! Ten of 'em would be long odds in the open; here we ought to
+have the laugh of them. Load your pistols! Damme, it's a bit chilly.
+Fortunately there's some warm work ahead."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stamped up and down the room, swishing his arms round his body, and
+stopping every now and again to make some trifling change in our hurriedly
+contrived barricade. Margaret stood by quietly at the window, and when I
+had reloaded my pistols, I joined her there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladder had been shifted and now lay along in the snow. There, too,
+lay the body of the dragoon I had shot, crumpled up in his death-agony. A
+brood of owls were clucking and cluttering about under the hovel, and
+there, too, leaning against the rear wheel of the wain, were a lumpish
+wagoner and our surly host. The one was stolidly smoking, the other was
+holding the battered lantern out at arm's length, and I could, as it were,
+see him growling to the lout at his side, "'Ew's to fork out for this'n?"
+A girl went towards them from the house, circling, with averted head, far
+round the dead dragoon, bearing them from the kitchen a smoking jug of ale.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In England," said Margaret, "snow adds the charm of peace and purity to
+the countryside. There's never, I should think, enough of it to give the
+sense of utter desolation and deadness that it gives one in Russia."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's so uncertain with us," was my reply. "I've known a whole winter
+without a snowflake, and I've walked knee-deep in it in May."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel stopped his marching and swishing and came to the window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't bother, Madge," said he. "We'll pull through. Hallo, I didn't see
+yon wagon last night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took out his snuff-box and, hearing the noise of the enemy in the
+corridor, walked with it in his hand across to the door. He tapped his box
+with accustomed preciseness, but I, a step behind, having lingered for a
+last look into Margaret's eyes, heard him mutter, "Damn the wagon!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ho, there within, in the King's name," shouted the sergeant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ho, there without, in the devil's name," mimicked the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want speech with Colonel Waynflete," shouted the sergeant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, seeing that Colonel Waynflete cannot at the moment give himself
+the pleasure of slitting your ruffian's throat, you may speak on," was the
+reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You and your daughter may proceed on your way unharmed if you surrender.
+It's only Wheatman the farmer, now with you, that I want."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He could be heard all over the room to the last syllable, and Margaret
+quickly left her place at the window and came towards us, but the Colonel
+in a stern whisper ordered her back. "How dare you leave your post! Watch
+that wagon!" She crimsoned and returned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If Master Freake were here, Oliver, I think he would remark that there
+was no market for colonels to-day," said her father to me with a wry
+smile. He gave the lid of his snuff-box a final tap, opened it, and held
+it out to me. In the sense of the term known to fashionable London, he was
+not a good-looking man, but as he stood there, waiting gravely while I
+took my pinch, he had the irresistible charm of the highest manliness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you agree, Colonel?" bawled the sergeant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not," he shouted, and took his snuff with great relish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By God," and now the sergeant roared like a wounded bull, "I'll have you
+all in ten minutes." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Here, I say, you
+Wheatman, do you agree?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly," said I, "I'll come at once." And I should have gone, there
+and then, but for the Colonel, who, as I laid a hand on the nearest piece
+of our barricade, promptly said, "I've only one way with deserters," and
+levelled a pistol at my head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For Margaret's sake, sir," I pleaded in low tones. "Let me go!" She had
+flown like a bird across to us, and so heard me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I had hoped you thought better of me, Master Wheatman," she said coldly,
+and went back to her watching.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant heard, or at least understood, what had been said in the
+room. We heard him say, "You know your job. Fifty guineas for Wheatman,
+dead or alive. Any man who touches the girl will be flogged bare to the
+bones." Then we heard him walk off along the corridor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dragoons without made no attempt on the door, and we joined Margaret
+at the window. Hardly had we got there when half a dozen dragoons dashed
+out of the porch and ran for the road. The Colonel flung the window open
+and emptied both his pistols at them, but they zigzagged like hares and
+the shots appeared to be thrown away. In the road they halted, formed a
+line in open order, and levelled their carbines at the window. All three
+of us moved aside, the Colonel tugging Margaret with him to the right
+while I hopped to the left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take it easy, Oliver," he said very good-humouredly. "Until they think
+of the wagon we're safe enough on this side. These walls would almost
+stand up to a carronade."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a clash the first bullet came through the window and knocked a huge
+splinter off a bedpost. There were six shots without, and six bullets
+spattered in a small area opposite.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's quite good shooting," said the Colonel. "Much better than I
+expected from such poor stuff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him what Jack had said about the mixed quality of Brocton's
+dragoons. These good shots, I explained, were picked men off the Ridgeley
+estates, probably gamekeepers and bailiffs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very like," he said. "They're used to shooting but not to fighting.
+Rabbits are more in their line."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no stir in the passage, and I wondered what the job was these
+men had in hand. The fusillade at the window was kept up unceasingly,
+generally in single shots, sometimes in twos and threes. The barricade
+took on a ragged appearance. I occupied my mind in thoughts of Margaret.
+She was in the corner, beyond her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bullets had by now nearly cleared the window of glass, fragments of
+which covered the floor of the room. Through the cracking and spluttering
+we at last heard the noise of a wagon moving. The Colonel and I leaped up
+and peered round the edge of the window. It was being pulled by two
+horses, and was shifted till it was exactly opposite the window, and to my
+surprise some twelve feet distant. The sacks made a firm platform level
+with the window-sill. Flush with the window it would have made an
+admirable means of attack, but why the space between?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the wagon was being put in position, there was a cessation of
+firing. We saw the six dragoons from the road climbing on to the wagon,
+while as many again joined them from the inn. The Colonel said, "Now's our
+chance!" and fired carefully. One man, who was poised on the rear wheel,
+fell into the road and hopped round to the back of the wagon holding his
+right foot in his hand; another, already mounted, sprawled full length on
+the sacks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's the way," he said, with much satisfaction, and stepped aside to
+reload. "See if you can improve on it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this, under orders from the sergeant, two or three dragoons were
+creeping under the wagon to fire from behind the wheels. I dropped a man
+standing at the horses' heads and then, in the nick of time and on second
+thoughts, made sure of the mare and hit her in the neck. She squealed,
+kicked, and plunged, and the other horse sharing her fears, they began to
+drag the wagon off. The sergeant and two or three men leaped at them and
+managed to quiet them, and then took them out of the traces to save
+further trouble of the sort. The Colonel, meanwhile, having reloaded,
+brought down another dragoon with one shot, and ripped open a sack with
+another. It was barley.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For perhaps a minute the window had been as safe as her corner, and
+Margaret had been quietly watching the scene. Now, with seven or eight men
+lying on the top of the sacks, with a stout row of them piled in front as
+a bulwark, it was time for us to run to cover again. This time, of her own
+accord, she came my side, and nestled beyond me in the nook between the
+wall and my body.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The men in the passage still made no sign.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Slids, Oliver," said the Colonel, "I can't see this ugly devil's game
+yet, but, whatever it is, you came near to spoiling it. Damme, it was a
+good idea to pepper the horse. Curse me! Where were my fifty years of
+soldiering that I couldn't think of it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose it comes from my being--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sweetest and whitest fingers in the world closed my mouth, and
+Margaret, thinking that I was on the verge of backsliding, whispered in my
+ear, "The readiest-witted gentleman in England."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I tingled with the joy of her touch, and turned to her so that I might go
+on into the coming fight with her last shade of emotion burnt into my
+memory. A stream of lead poured through the window, but the spluttering of
+bullets on the walls of the room had no more effect on me than the
+pattering of hailstones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May I finish my sentence, madam?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not as you intended, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I can't go back on old Bloggs' teaching, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She pouted and frowned, both at once, and the Colonel bawled through the
+noise of the fusillade, "Being what?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fond of Virgil," roared I back again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret laughed. Could a nightingale laugh, it would laugh as Margaret
+laughed then.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before the music of it died away the sergeant showed his hand, and death
+at its grizzliest grinned through the window. A great mass of damp,
+smouldering straw, lifted on pikels, was thrust into the window-frame,
+filling it completely, and thick wreaths of dense, foul smoke eddied into
+the room, while through the straw the rain of bullets poured on, smashing
+and splintering on walls and ceiling, door and barricade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel slashed and poked at the straw with his rapier. Telling
+Margaret to crouch on the floor, I crawled on my belly and fetched the
+bed-staff, which stood in its accustomed corner of the chimney-piece. It
+made a much more serviceable tool for the job, and I flung it across to
+the Colonel, who seized it and worked it like a blackamoor till he was
+almost the colour of one, and had, to judge by his voice and demeanour,
+got almost beyond his German in his rage. Asking for Margaret's
+handkerchief, I tied it loosely round her mouth, my heart near to bursting
+as I looked into her calm and patient face. Then I lay down flat and
+wormed out into the room and, after a hard struggle, wrenched off one of
+the rods which carried the rings of the bed-curtains. I remember that, as
+I lay there, writhing and struggling, I counted the bullets, eleven of
+them, as they spattered about me. However, I got back to Margaret's side
+untouched, and poked and thrust and slashed to make a hole near her face
+between straw and window-frame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our efforts were practically useless. The straw was cunningly fed from
+below, and the pall of smoke was now so heavy and dense that the fringe of
+it was settling down on Margaret's tower of yellow hair, and as I watched
+the rate at which it was falling, I knew the end was coming. The Colonel
+had worked with the energy of despair to tear down the vile enemy that was
+killing us by inches, and now suddenly collapsed and fell like a log to
+the floor. Margaret would have crawled to him, but I kept her by main
+force against the wall while I wriggled out of my coat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have one chance left, Margaret," said I. "Your father is only
+overcome by the smoke--see, there's no sign of a wound about him--and his
+fall is a godsend. Give me your other handkerchief and lie down flat, face
+to the floor and close to the window, and listen for my next instructions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She did so without a word. I wrapped my coat loosely about her head, and
+before I could close it in the smoke cloud was settling down on her, even
+as she lay. I was nearly done for, but she was safe for a few minutes.
+Lying full length on the floor, under the window, I tied her handkerchief
+to the end of the curtain-rod, thrust it through the straw, and waved it
+about as vigorously as I could.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant's voice rang out. The firing ceased. The foul masses of
+straw were removed. Then the scoundrel came forward and leered up at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do your terms hold good?" I shouted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Colonel Waynflete and his daughter will be left at liberty to go their
+way, if I surrender?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then in one minute I'll be with you," said I. Stepping inside the room,
+I first of all pulled the Colonel to the window, tore loose the clothes
+round his neck, and laid his head on the window-sill, in the good sweet
+air. Then crawling to Margaret, I unwrapped the jacket, and said briefly,
+"Force some of Kate's cordial down your father's throat. Goodbye!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I returned to the window, clambered out, hung at arm's length, and
+dropped to the ground. Striding up to the sergeant, I said carelessly,
+"Your turn this time, sergeant. To-day to thee, to-morrow to me--it's
+neater in the Latin but you wouldn't understand it--and all Brocton's
+dragoons shan't save your ugly neck."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where the hell's your coat?" he demand fiercely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A cool question, indeed, after trying to suffocate me, but it was never
+answered. The air was on a sudden filled with the weirdest row I had ever
+heard. It was as if all the ghosts in Hades had suddenly piped up at their
+shrillest and ghostliest. This was followed by a splutter of musketry, and
+this again by loud yells. Looking round I saw a swarm of strange figures
+sweep into the yard, half women as to their dress, for they wore little
+petticoats that barely reached their knees, but matchless fighting men as
+to their behaviour. On they came, with the pace of hounds, the courage of
+bucks, and the force of the tide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the Highlanders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant fled into and through the inn and, with the men from the
+corridor, got clean away. Not a man else escaped. Half the dragoons on the
+wagon were picked off like crows on a branch. The rest, and those in or
+about the yard, got their lives and nothing else barring their breeches,
+and that not for comeliness' sake but because they were useless. Every man
+jack of them, in less than five minutes, looked like a half-plucked
+cockerel, and their captors were wrangling like jackdaws about the plunder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I glanced at the window. To my relief, the Colonel was already sitting
+up, pumping the sweet air into his befouled lungs, and Margaret smiled
+joyously and waved her hand to me. I was waving victoriously back to her
+when my attention was forcibly diverted by two Highlanders, who collared
+me, intent on reducing me to a state of nature plus my breeches. There was
+no time to explain, neither would they have understood my explanation. One
+of them, a son of Anak for height and bulk, already had his hands to my
+pockets. Him I hit, as hard-won experience had taught me, and he fell all
+of a heap. His fellow was struck with amazement at seeing such a great
+beef of a man put out of action so easily, and stood gaping over him for a
+while. Recovering himself, he snatched a long knife out of his sock and
+made for me murderously, but I had meantime fished out a guinea and now
+held it out to him. He took it with the eager curiosity of a child, looked
+at it wonderingly, made out what it was, and then ran leaping and frisking
+up and down the yard, holding it high over his head, and shouting, "Ta
+ginny, ta ginny, ta bonny, gowd ginny!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was saved further trouble by the approach of one of the officers, or,
+to speak with later knowledge, chiefs, of these wild warriors. He informed
+me in excellent English that he had heard the firing, seen my parleying at
+the window and my subsequent surrender, and desired to know the meaning of
+it all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The gentleman at the window," I explained, "is Colonel Waynflete,
+travelling to join Prince Charles. The lady is his daughter, and I am
+their servant, by name Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. These King's men,
+belonging to my Lord Brocton's regiment of dragoons, attacked us; we
+refused to surrender, and the rascally sergeant in command smoked us out.
+I pray you, sir, to run the wagon up to the window that I may hand them
+down, since the door is heavily barricaded."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was done immediately, and he and I ran up to the window together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You young dog," said the Colonel. "You surrendered after all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In strict accordance, sir, with military usage, I used my discretion as
+commander of the party."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Slids!" His grey eyes had the old laugh lurking in them already.
+"Commander of the party?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There were only Mistress Margaret and I left," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And the peppermint cordial," put in Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So in sheer wantonness of joy we sought relief in bantering one another.
+Then I introduced the chieftain, who had stood there silent and graceful,
+a fine figure of a man, finely and naturally posed, and mutual compliments
+and thanks passed between us. Yet in that first minute, with Margaret and
+the Colonel perched on the sill, and the Highlander and I standing on the
+sacks of barley, I saw another thing happen, for the big things of life
+come into it with the swiftness of light and the inevitability of death. A
+chieftain proudly climbed the wagon; a bond-servant humbly handed Margaret
+down. As was fair and courteous, and suitable to my real position, I let
+him do it, and aided the Colonel, who was as yet somewhat shaky. After
+seeing him safe down, I rushed up again and recovered our weapons and my
+coat. Down once more, I was getting into my coat when Margaret, who was
+talking to the Highlander, looked at me and said quietly, "Pray, Master
+Wheatman, fetch me the domino from my room!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said it simply and mistress-like, and of course I shot off to do her
+bidding. I supposed, as I went, that it was the white snow all around that
+had brought out the blue in her eyes so vividly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the inn I found the host, the lantern still dangling from his finger,
+notwithstanding his greater woe, and his pleasant, placid wife weeping
+bitterly. Of the original twenty guineas of the Major's, I now had only
+four left, and these I thrust into her hand as I passed, and told her to
+be comforted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From my shooting the dragoon on the roof to my running upstairs for the
+domino was in all not more than twenty minutes. I skipped over the man who
+had fallen to my maiden sword. He was lying between the door of the
+Colonel's room and that of Margaret's, and opposite one of the doors on
+the other side of the passage. Darting into Margaret's room, I recovered
+the domino.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was only a moment, but in that moment some one opened the door in the
+passage against which the man lay and so brought him into the light, and I
+could not help taking a look at him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My heart stopped with the horror of it; my whole being fell to pieces at
+the agony of it. I remember running from it as from the gates of hell. I
+remember reeling on the stairs. I remember a headlong fall. I remember no
+more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was Jack.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE MOORLANDS</h3>
+
+<p>
+I was in bed, there was no doubt about that, and a strange sort of bed
+too, for it moved lightly and deliciously through the keen, open air like
+the magic carpet of the Eastern tale. The bedposts at my feet were most
+curiously carved into life-like images of warriors, so life-like, indeed,
+that when the one on the right turned its shaggy head and spoke to the one
+on the left, I was not shocked and scarcely surprised. Bed it was,
+however, for mother's soft, smooth hand was on my cheek, and under the
+balm of its touch I went off to sleep again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When my eyes opened again, the mists had cleared out of them and I was no
+longer in the land of shadows. The carven bedposts were Highlanders; the
+bed was a litter slung between four of them; the touch was hers. Somebody
+spoke, the Highlanders came to a halt, and Margaret bent over me. Her face
+was pale, grave, and anxious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you better, Oliver?" she whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As right as rain," I answered, pushing my new trouble behind me and
+speaking stoutly because of the whiteness of her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try to sleep again. You've had a bad fall, and there's an ugly cut in
+your skull."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed, I'll do no such thing," was my reply. "I don't want carrying
+like a great baby, and I do want my breakfast. I'm as empty as a drum."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can you stand?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sure of it, and also hop, skip, jump, and, above all, eat and drink with
+any man alive. So, if you can make these men-women understand you, tell
+them I'm very grateful, but I've had enough."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The four tousled warriors were easily made to understand what I wanted,
+and, stout and strong as they were, welcomed the end of their labours with
+broad grins of satisfaction. They lowered me to the ground, and
+immediately Margaret's hands were outstretched to help me to my feet. But
+for the black death between us, it would have been new life indeed to see
+the colour and sunshine creeping back to her face, and to hear her
+whispered "Thank God!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My head was bumming and throbbing, but nothing to speak of. The gash was
+behind and above my right ear, so I must have somersaulted down the
+stairs. Margaret, as I learned later, had bathed and bandaged the wound,
+and after my recovery of consciousness, it only gave me the happy trouble
+of persuading Margaret that it gave me no trouble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stamped and shook myself experimentally, took a few strides, and jumped
+once or twice, Margaret watching me as curiously and carefully as a hen
+watches her first chicken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do mind, Oliver!" she said. "It bled horribly, and you'll start it again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I believe I needed a blood-letting," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Should you ever need another," she said crisply, "I hope you'll take it
+in the usual way. How did it happen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had steeled myself for the inevitable question, and so answered
+ruefully, "I must have tripped over the domino."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If it were not your mother's I would never wear it again," she said,
+plucking the skirt of it into her hand and shaking it as if it were a
+naughty child. "I thought you would never come round. For nearly an hour,
+I should think, you looked stone-dead. Then you just opened your eyes, but
+closed them before I dared speak, and lay so at least another hour. You
+have given me such a fright, sir, that, now you are up and about again,
+I'm beginning to feel I have a grievance against you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sorry, madam," said I, very soberly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now you're laughing at me, sir," was the brisk reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word made me shiver. "Laughing"--over Jack's body! Margaret was in
+her stride back to her mistress-ship again yet her eye changed instantly
+with her mood when she saw me wince. Indeed, her mind flashed after my
+mind like a hawk after a pigeon, but I dodged the trouble by looking
+casually around to examine our whereabouts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were following a track down a dip in an open moorland. Across the
+shallow valley, and climbing the slope ahead of us, was another small body
+of Highlanders, whom I took to be our scouting party. The sun was a dim
+blob in the sky, and I saw from its position that our direction was
+easterly. A joyous hail from behind made me spin round, whereupon I saw
+the Colonel on Sultan and the young Chief on the sorrel turning the brow
+behind us. It took them a few minutes to trot down to us, and before they
+reached us four more wild warriors, our rear-guard apparently, came in
+view. One of them was my son of Anak, astride Margaret's mare, and so
+looking more gigantesque than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good morning, commander!" was the Colonel's greeting. "Slids! But I'm
+glad to see you on your feet again. How's the head?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It still bumbles a bit," said I, "but, truth to tell, I'm thinking more
+of my breakfast than my head. I'm as empty as a drum."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's a guid prognostick to feel hungry after sic a crack o' the head,"
+said the chieftain, smiling, and I thought with a twinge what a handsome,
+wholesome sight he made.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm another drum," said the Colonel, "but deuce take me, Oliver, if I
+know how we're to be filled. Madge would have us start off with you at
+once, quite rightly too, and we'd neither bite nor sup before we took the
+road."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And where were you taking me?" cried I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To the doctor's," explained the Colonel. "There's one in a village
+tucked away somewhere among these hills, and we've a lad on ahead to guide
+us. Colonel Ker, who commands the Highlanders who rescued us, gave us our
+friend here, Captain Maclachlan in the Prince's army, and a great
+chieftain among his own people"--here the chief and I bowed to one another
+--"and a dozen or so of his stout men as an escort. Two plaids were knitted
+into a litter, a log of a man named Wheatman was bundled into it, and off
+we started breakfastless, as I said before."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm very grateful to you, Mistress Margaret," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be silly!" she answered very sharply. "It is no praise to tell me
+I acted with common decency. And you weren't bundled in!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was not praising you, madam," I retorted, quick as ever to return like
+for like. "I was thanking you, and I venture, with respect, to thank you
+again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bother old Bloggs!" she said, suddenly all of a glow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bloggs? Who's Bloggs?" asked the Colonel, plainly enjoying the fun.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A rascally schoolmaster," she explained, "who flogged Oliver into a
+precision of speech which I find most trying. But I must not miscall the
+dear old man, for I stole his supper."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I wish he'd flogged him into precision on a staircase," said the
+Colonel. "Damme, I am hungry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm thinking there'll be a dub of water in the bottom yonder," said the
+chieftain, "and Mistress Waynflete shall, if she will, take her first meal
+Highland fashion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I firmly declined to be carried another yard, the Highlanders unmade
+my litter and resumed their plaids. In the trough of the valley we found a
+streamlet of clear sweet water, and our repast consisted of a handful of
+oatmeal, of which every clansman carried a supply in a linen bag, stirred
+in a horn of water. It was not our Staffordshire notion of a breakfast,
+but it was better than nothing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Water-brose is a guid enough thing at a pinch," said Maclachlan to
+Margaret, "guid enough to take a big loon like yon Donald to London and
+back."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald, it appeared, liked an addition to it, notwithstanding his chief's
+praise of it, for he was taking a long pull from a leather bottle. This,
+he explained, was usquebaugh, "ta watter of life," and the spice of poetry
+in the description tempted the Colonel and me to try a dram. The Colonel
+probably had had worse drink in his time, but even he made no comment. I
+would almost as lief have had a blank charge fired into my mouth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While we all took our brose, and Maclachlan squired Margaret, the Colonel
+told me how it had happened that the Highlanders chanced to come to our
+rescue in the very nick of time. My own trouble is to get my tale straight
+and simple, and I have no intention of making a hard task harder by trying
+to interweave with the threads of my own story a poor history of these
+important days. Mr. Volunteer Ray saw much more of these things than ever
+I did, and the curious reader may turn to his fat, little, brown volume
+for particulars. He was on the other side, and is too partial for a
+perfect historiographer, but the account of things is there, and
+reasonably well done too. But as what happened to Margaret, the Colonel,
+and me, happened because of the campaign of the rival armies, I must boil
+down what the Colonel told me if I am to make my tale clear. The Colonel,
+to his credit, as I think, was so enthusiastic over all matters military
+that he was rather long-winded in his account, and, in like fashion with
+our housewifely Kate, it behoves me, so to speak, to make a jar of jelly
+out of a pan of fruit, which is easier done with crab-apples than words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+According to the Colonel, one of the master maxims of the military art
+is, "Find out what the enemy thinks you are going to do, and then don't do
+it." My Lord George Murray, the Prince's chief adviser in military
+matters, had acted on this plan, and had given the go-by to the Duke of
+Cumberland in grand style. At Macclesfield, the traveller to London had
+choice of two high roads, one through Leek and Derby, and the other
+through Congleton and Stafford. Leaving the Prince at Macclesfield with
+the bulk of his men, Murray had pushed with a big force as far as
+Congleton on the Stafford road, and the news of his advance had made
+Cumberland withdraw all his northerly outposts to his head-quarters at
+Stone. It was the last body of horse, routed out of Congleton, which we
+had watched from the pines last night, racing in fear and disorder back to
+the main of their army. Before daybreak Murray had sent on a force of
+Highlanders under Colonel Ker towards Newcastle, to maintain the illusion
+that the Stafford road was the one the Prince would take, and the vanguard
+of this force, under Maclachlan, had saved us at the "Red Bull." Murray
+himself was marching from Congleton across country to Leek, while the
+Prince was marching thither also from Macclesfield. Murray would be there
+first, and did not mean to wait for the Prince, but to push on as far as
+possible towards Derby. We, too, were bound for Leek, where we should be
+safe at last, and the end of the Colonel's explanation came, not because
+he had said all he could have said, but because Donald was yelling to the
+clansmen in preparation for our retaking the road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan accepted with alacrity an offer I made to go ahead and join
+our advance. He ordered Donald to accompany me, giving as his reason: "For
+he kens the English fine when the spirit of understanding is on him, and
+ye'll easy get it on him by raxing him a crack in the wame, same as ye did
+back yonder at the yill-house."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Highlander maintained the expression of a wooden doll throughout this
+explanation, but, as I leaped hard after him across the brook, I overtook
+a grin on his face that promised well for my future entertainment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She pe recovert," he said. "Tat was a foine shump."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before I could reply Margaret was upon us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The mare is quite frisky. She thinks me a mere <i>fardello</i> after
+Donald. You're sure you're all right, Oliver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So near right, madam, that I beg you not to worry about me further,"
+said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Worry about you or worry you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It hurt me to have her go so chilly all of a sudden, but I replied
+frankly, "Both. It does indeed worry me to have you breakfastless in these
+wilds through my doings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," she said, smiling down on me, "I ken fine the distinction between
+water-brose and ham and eggs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are still in Staffordshire," I said cheerily, "and I'll go ahead and
+see what I can do for you. Now, Donald, your best foot first!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He and I started ahead again, leaving her waiting for the rest of the
+party, detained by some explanation on the Colonel's part of the military
+aspects of the lie of the land.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's a wheen foine leddies wi' ta Prince, Got bless him," said
+Donald, "but when yon carline gets amangst 'em she'll pe like a muircock
+amangst a thrang o' craws. She'll ding 'em a'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I expected that Donald would cherish ill will to me for my blow, but in
+this I was wrong. So far from bearing me a grudge, he quite obviously
+liked me for it. He had a fist, or nief, as he called it, nearly as big as
+a leg of lamb, and almost the first thing he did when we were alone was to
+hold it out, huge, dirty, and hairy, and put it alongside mine. He
+scratched his rough head in his perplexity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At Gladsmuir," he said, "'er nainsell did take ten Southron loons wi'
+'er own hant, wi' nobody to help 'er, an' now one callant had dinged 'er
+clean senseless wi' nothin' but a bairn's nief."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It wasn't clean fighting, Donald," said I. "Nothing but a sort of trick.
+If you were to hit me fair and square I should snap in two like a carrot.
+Tell me how you captured the ten men!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a longish story, at any rate as he told it, in quaint uncertain
+English, intermixed with spates of his own Gaelic as he got excited over
+the account of his prowess. One of them was an officer, and Donald
+finished up by ferreting out of his meal-bag a magnificent gold watch,
+lawful prize from his point of view, taken out of the officer's fob.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ta tam t'ing was alife when I raxed 'er out of 'is poke," he said, "but
+'er went dead sune after. She can 'ave 'er for a shillin'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had no idea, nor could I make him understand, what it was and what
+purpose it served. When it had run down for want of winding, to his simple
+mind it had 'died.' He pushed it into my hand as indifferently as if it
+had been a turnip, and I promised to pay him at Leek, for my pockets were
+empty again and Margaret had the bag.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Er nainsell wad rather 'ave a new pair o' progues," said he. "And what
+for does anybody want a thing tat goes dead to tell ta time wi'? T'ere's
+ta sun and ta stars, tat never go dead."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As we walked rapidly we overtook our party soon after settling the matter
+of the watch. The plough-lad who had been pressed as guide told me we were
+near the road to Leek, and I let him return. We dropped down to a rough
+road running our way, and a mile or so along it the roofs of a village
+came in sight, and we halted till the main body came up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is it, Oliver?" asked the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Breakfast, sir," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We marched into the village in military array. At our head strode Donald,
+stout of heart and mighty of hand, with two pipers skirling away at his
+heels, and the clansmen stepping it out bravely two abreast behind them.
+Margaret came next, with me at her mare's head, and the Colonel and
+Maclachlan brought up the rear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our arrival created as much stir as an earthquake. The Highlanders, in
+twos and threes, swarmed into the houses and ordered their unwilling hosts
+to prepare them a meal. That it was war I was engaged in was, for the
+first time, brought clearly home to me when I saw a fearsome Highlander,
+with claymore, dirk, and loaded musket, posted at each end of the village.
+A touch of ordinary human nature was, however, added, when the children,
+fearless and happy in their ignorance, sidled up to the sentries and
+stared at them as eagerly as if they had been war-painted Indians in a
+travelling show.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At first, we, the gentry for short, intended to seek accommodation in the
+inn, poor and shabby though it looked, and Donald was ordered thither to
+give instructions. The Colonel and the chieftain rode along the village to
+observe how things were going, and this left Margaret and me together, and
+spectators of a delightful little passage. For as Donald approached the
+inn-door, the hostess, a sharp-nosed, vixenish woman, charged at him with
+a very dirty besom and routed him completely. Truth to tell, Donald, who
+had the sound, sweet nature of a child, had all the natural child's
+indifference to dirt, but even he, long-suffering in such matters as he
+was, had to stop to scrape the filth out of his eyes. This gave me the
+chance of making peace, and I went up and explained that we should pay for
+everything like ordinary travellers, good money for good fare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh aye!" she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Jonnock!" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're a Stafford chap," she asserted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am," I agreed, "and I'll see you done well by."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That settled her, and Donald was settled too, for his immediate wants
+were satisfied by a large glass of brandy, and those more remote by a
+bucket of water and a towel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom!" said the virile little woman to me, "a wesh'll do him no harm.
+I've got the biggest gorby of a mon," she went on, "between Mow Cop and
+the Cocklow o' Leek. He's gone trapesing off, with our young Ted on his
+shoulders, to see yow chaps march into Leek. There's about a dozen on 'em
+gone, as brisk as if they were goin' to Stoke wakes. Fine fools they'll
+lukken when they comes whom to-nate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As it happened, the "Dun Cow" was after all left to Donald and the
+pipers. When I rejoined Margaret, she said, "Pray help me down, Oliver,
+and we'll find the doctor, and have him dress your head. And, once out of
+Donald's sight, I'll have the laugh that's nearly killing me to keep
+under."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I helped her down, and said, "Never mind doctor! That fine old church
+yonder must be well worth looking into."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will mind, sir," she flashed. She beckoned to Donald to take charge
+of her mare, and then waylaid a passing girl, running from one sentry to
+the other, and got her to show us the doctor's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So we started thither, and as we went she said, "Really, Oliver, you are
+inconsiderate at times."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nonsense," said I. "It's my head."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was angry, not at her words, for I knew she did not mean them, but at
+my inability to see what the fascinating jade was driving at.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Inconsiderate," she repeated firmly. "You'd be content to be introduced
+to the Prince with a great swathe of dirty, blood-stained linen round your
+head, regardless of how it reflected on me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Reflected on you?" I echoed blankly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes. We shouldn't match. I suppose dear old Bloggs was a bachelor?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was," said I, resigning the contest in despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The doctor lived in a fair-sized stick-and-wattle house. He was a dapper
+little man, with a cleverish, weakling cast of face, and was all on the
+jump with the turn things had taken. He had just opened the door to us,
+and was eyeing us uncertainly, when the Colonel and the Chief, returning
+on foot from their inspection, having left their horses to be baited under
+the watchful eye of a Highlander, stopped beside us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you the doctor?" asked Margaret promptly, as if to forestall any
+backing out on my part. If I could have joyed at anything, I should have
+been overjoyed at her keenness in having me seen to.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," he said, but very softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then please attend to this gentleman's wound," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is he a rebel?" he asked, so loudly that he might have been talking to
+some one across the street, and instinctively I turned round There, sure
+enough, was the parson, a pasty, pursy, mean-looking rogue, coming across
+to see what was doing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's his head I want you to attend to," retorted Margaret, "not his
+politics."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I doctor no rebels," said he, louder than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Man," intervened Maclachlan, taking a pistol from his belt, and
+emphasizing his words by gently tapping its barrel on the palm of his
+hand, "if in ten minutes yon head isn't doctored to pairfection, it's your
+own sel' will be beyond all the doctoring in England."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's against all law," said the doctor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm the law in this clachan to-day," said Maclachlan simply, still
+tapping away with his pistol. Hearing the parson behind, he turned round
+and added drily, "And the gospel." Hereupon the parson's face took on the
+appearance of ill-made, ill-risen dough, and he turned and slipped off
+with creeping, noiseless steps, like a cat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come in," whispered the doctor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye're a man o' sense," said Maclachlan, and pushed his pistol back into
+his belt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We all passed into the hall, and the doctor made the door carefully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That damned pudding-face is a Whig," said he, "and so, of course, he's a
+Justice. The Squire's a Whig, and he's a Justice. Here am I, well-reputed
+in the faculty, and my wife coming of the Parker Putwells, one of the rare
+old county stocks--none of your newfangled button-men and turnip-growers
+--and I'm no Justice, because I'm a Church-and-King man of the old
+school."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They went out of fashion with flaxen bobs," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come on, my tousled macaroni!" said he. "There's nothing the matter with
+the inside of your head at any rate, though the outside looks as if you'd
+been arguing with the parish bull."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a verra fine house," said Maclachlan slowly and slily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A mere dog-kennel," said the doctor, "considering she's a Parker Putwell."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I'm thinking," said Maclachlan, very thoughtfully "that there'll be
+some guid victuals in the pantry and, mayhap, a gay wheen bottles of right
+liquor in the cellar."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh aye!" said he, taken aback.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I'm thinking we'll e'en have breakfast here and try their merits.
+And if it's a guid ane, I'll see you a Justice, whatever that may be, when
+the King enjoys his own again. A Maclachlan has spoken it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The doctor went to an inner door and bawled, "Euphemia," and a
+discontented wisp of a woman answered his call.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam and gentlemen, my wife, Mistress Snooks, born a Parker Putwell.
+Mistress Snooks, like me, will bow to your will with pleasure, nor will
+you mislike her table, I assure you. Now, my buck, let's see to this crack
+in your head."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took me into his druggery, unwrapped the bandage, and examined my wound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So ho!" said he, "a right good sock on the head. How did it happen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's lucky for you, my buck," he said, "that you've got a baby's flesh
+and a tup's skull, and some one had the sense to wash the cut clean as
+soon as it was done."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He set to work and made a good job of it, with a pledget of lint and
+strips of plaister, and meanwhile I speculated as to why, in all these
+bottles and jars and gallipots, neither nature nor art could contrive to
+store a drug magistral for the blow that had riven my heart asunder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's better than two yards stripped off a wench's smock," he said at
+last. "And a damnably fine smock too, you lucky rascal."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He twittered a snatch of ribaldry that made my foot twitch in my boot.
+Behind his back, I pocketed the priceless relic, dank and red with my
+unworthy blood, and followed him back to the company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We made a longish stay, and fared well at his table. The doctor was a
+good enough fellow in himself, but his wife, a salt, domineering woman,
+lived in the light of the Parker Putwells, and he, poor devil, in the
+shadow they cast. He was playing a double game too, for whenever the
+red-elbowed serving-wench came into the room, he roared his dissent from
+our lawlessness, and drank to the King with his glass over the
+water-bottle as soon as she went out. Once when she brought us a rare dish
+of calvered roach and, with wenchlike curiosity, lingered to pick up a
+crumb or two of gossip, we had a snap of comedy, for, in his play-acting,
+he would take none till Maclachlan, to keep up the farce, thrust a pistol
+at his head and forced him. Whereupon the maid, in plucky fashion, threw a
+cottage loaf at Maclachlan and took him fairly in the chest. The doctor, to
+his credit, rose to protect her, but she braved it out. She would, she
+averred, lend the thingamyjig a better petticoat than the one he'd got on.
+"If he mun wear 'em," she added, "he mought wear 'em long enough to be
+dacent." The doctor bustled her out at last, palpitating but triumphant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan had sprung up like a wild cat when the missile hit him.
+Luckily he was flustered by the bouncing of the loaf on the table and off
+again clean into Margaret's lap, or the ready trigger would surely have
+been drawn in earnest. Then Margaret promptly took the edge off his anger
+by saying with menacing sweetness, "I'm sorry the fun has gone further
+than was desirable, but I will not have the girl blamed for what was in
+her a brave deed, nor suffer any unpleasantness here on account of it.
+Pray be seated."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This ended the matter, and Maclachlan, with a wry smile, settled down
+again to his fish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was a verra guid thing after a' said," he explained, "that it wasna
+my mouth, for it was an unco' ding. I'm half hungry yet, and, to be sure,
+breakfast and broillerie gang ill together."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was well said, and Margaret rewarded him with a smile and engaged him
+in merry conversation. The Colonel, who had kept silent during the
+trouble, now plied the doctor with questions about the surrounding country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's a poor biding-place for a Parker Putwell," he replied. "If there's
+a drearier or lonelier stretch in England than the moorlands of Leek, I
+would not care to see it. I go miles on end about it to visit my sick
+folk, and mostly in a day's riding I see nobody but a stray shepherd, a
+flash pedlar twanning his way across country with his gewgaws, and now and
+then a weaver scouring the outlying cottages for yarn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the meal was over Maclachlan insisted on paying for it, and bestowed
+a shilling on the loaf-thrower. In theory, I found, the clansmen paid for
+what they had, and Donald, being quartermaster to the party, was very busy
+discharging his obligations up and down the village. The only cause of
+dissatisfaction, but that not a slight one, was his Scots mode of
+reckoning, in which a pint was near on half a gallon, while his shilling
+was a beggarly penny. It always took a whirl of his dirk and a storm of
+Gaelic to convince a cottager of his accuracy, but he got through at last,
+and we reformed our order of march and started for Leek.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This time I took the sorrel and Maclachlan marched beside Margaret on her
+mare, for the Colonel wanted to give me an account, derived from the young
+Chief, of the Prince's marchings and victories. The Highlanders being
+astonishing foot-folk, and the Colonel being full of analogies and
+digressions, the tower of Leek church came in sight before we had got the
+Prince out of Edinburgh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A halt was called to discuss what was to be done. The Colonel dismounted,
+and we followed his example. Margaret, I noticed, coloured slightly as
+Maclachlan lifted her down. She had been as cool and unfluttered as a
+marble image when she lay in my arms. Maclachlan was for marching on into
+the town, and the doubt on the Colonel's face rather nettled him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The considerable town of Manchester," he said, "was entered, and in part
+seized, by one Scots sergeant and his drummer. Of a certainty near a score
+of Maclachlans can intake yon little clachan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of a certainty," retorted the Colonel, "Margaret and one of your pipers
+would be enough if we only had the townspeople to consider. There's no
+game much easier than walking into a lion's den when the lion isn't there,
+but it's pure foolishness to play the game till you're sure he's not at
+home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lion! What's to do here wi' lions?" asked Maclachlan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As I'm only a volunteer," answered the Colonel, "and not yet a man of
+authority under the Prince's commission, which you are, I must ask your
+leave to explain that our getting into Leek is a military problem. I grant
+ye it's a little problem, since it wouldn't matter a pinch of snuff if we
+marched in and every one of us was promptly hanged in the market-place.
+But I undertook to make Oliver here a soldier, and, damme, what you want
+to do isn't soldiership, and he'll only learn soldiership by mastering the
+little problems first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Like sums at school," said I, whereat Margaret laughed aloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme, you young rascal," stormed the Colonel, "if I'd got my commission
+in my pocket, I'd put you under arrest for impertinence."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With great respect, sir," I answered, "I beg to say that I understand
+that, at a council of war, the youngest officer gives his opinion first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's bowled you over, dad," said Margaret cheerfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme, I'll bowl you off to Chester to-night," he retorted. "As sure as
+a gun's a gun, you'll ruin Oliver. Stop grinning like an ape, sir, at that
+jade's tricks, and listen to me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm thinking, sir," said Maclachlan, "that in my present responsible
+position I would greatly value your observations on the matter in hand."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a clever remark so far as the Colonel was concerned, for he
+would have talked to a viper about soldiering, but Maclachlan did not see,
+and I did, the delicate little mouth that Margaret made.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My observations are simply these," said the Colonel: "We do not know
+where Murray is, we do not know where the Prince is, and we do not know
+where the Duke of Devonshire is. Any one of them may be in Leek."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And who may be the Duke of Devonshire?" asked the chief. "I've never
+heard of him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One of Geordie's dandiprats, who has got together a big force of militia
+at Derby, and who, if he's any pluck, may have forestalled us all by
+marching to Leek."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's sair awkward," said Maclachlan, completely taken aback by the news.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is so," said the Colonel, "and seeing that Oliver knows the rules and
+procedures of courts martial, he shall deliver his judgment first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, bowing low, "I would, with respect, suggest...."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I got no further, for Donald, who was within a yard of my elbow, suddenly
+bounded into the air and let off a most astonishing yell. Then he ran up
+and down, like a foxhound after a lost scent, gabbling away in Gaelic. The
+clansmen put their hands to their ears, and their ears to the wind,
+listening intently, whereon Donald ceased his capering and chattering, and
+called out to us, "Ta pipes! Ta Prunce! Ta pipes! Ta Prunce!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whist, ye auld fule," said the chief. "Ye're enough to deafen a clap of
+thunder."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm telling it ye, ta pipes! ta Prunce!" he babbled, and then fell
+still, and we all listened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The clansmen must have had ears like the bucks of their own mountains. I
+could hear nothing but the soft sough of the breeze as it swept o'er the
+rank grass of the moorlands, but they, Maclachlan as madly as any of them,
+yelled their slogan, and the pipers filled their bags and blew fit to
+burst. Like was calling to like across the wilds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret glowed with enthusiasm, and the Colonel's eyes sparkled as he
+handed me the box for the customary pinch--a courtesy, I found by later
+experience, he conferred on very few. Indeed, in my new trouble, the
+kindness and affection of the Colonel were becoming my best stand-by.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The great game's afoot, Oliver," he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And we'll play it to the end, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad," said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Donald, ye auld skaicher," said Maclachlan, "get your bairns agait. The
+Maclachlans are going to be last, where they should be first, at the
+intaking of a town, but the Prince, God bless him, will think me balm in
+Gilead when he sees the reinforcements I bring."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was in high feather, and it interested me to watch in another the
+tonic effect of Margaret's presence. I took no advantage of my capacity as
+her body-servant, but leaped into my saddle and sat the sorrel like a
+wooden image as he dodged about to get her horsed again and ready for the
+road. He was, indeed, fit to serve a queen; the Highland fashion
+marvellously well set off the clean, strong lines of his body, and the
+single eagle's feather in his bonnet was the right sign to be waving over
+him. The top-dog spirit was fast oozing out of me, and I sat there sourly
+dusting the skirts of my poor country-tailor-made coat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The men were lined up on the rough moorland track, Donald at their head,
+and the two pipers filling their bags and fingering their chanters behind
+him. Maclachlan took Margaret's rein and began to lead her mare up the
+slope of the path, but the Colonel called to him and diverted his
+attention, and she stopped beside me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver," she said, "you must let me have your coat for half an hour when
+we are settled in the town, so that I can mend it. The holes in it make me
+shiver every time I see them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are very kind, madam," said I, still dusting away, lest she should
+see how my hand trembled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She forced me to look at her now, she spoke so peremptorily, and when the
+blue eyes met mine they were so clear and intent that I feared she might
+read my secret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Smile!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Smile! I was to smile, was I? And when our Kate got the news at the
+Hanyards, the smile would die out of her eyes for ever, for Jack, dear,
+splendid Jack, was the weft that had been woven into the warp of her being.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not smile to order, madam," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She flicked the mare sharply and cantered up to the level, whither
+Maclachlan raced after her with the speed of a hound.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2>
+
+<h3>BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE</h3>
+
+<p>
+On our way into the town a thing happened which greatly shook me, being,
+as I was, nothing in the world but a small farmer who had never seen the
+wars. At a point where the rough road cut across a fold in the moorlands
+we saw, half a mile to our right, a herd of cattle being lashed and
+chivvied away to the remoter crannies among the hills by a throng of
+sweating hinds and fanners. Had it happened our way, thought I broodily,
+Joe and I would be there among the like, saving our own stock from the
+marauders. Donald looked at them longingly, but our haste brooked no
+delay, and besides, as he put it to me later, "It's a puir town, but,
+after a' said, better than a wheen lousy cattle, for I've come by a fine
+pair o' progues for a twa-three bawbees."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Leek was as full of Highlanders as a wasp-cake is of maggots, and still
+they were swarming in. Donald and the clansmen, indifferent to the crush
+and hubbub, clave a way for us to the market-place, where, on the
+Colonel's advice, they were dismissed to beat for billets. I then took
+charge and led my companions across to the "Angel," where the throng was
+so dense that they might have been giving the ale away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To get the horses stabled and baited was easy enough, for few of the
+Highlanders rode south, although it was different going north again. Then,
+leading my companions into the yard, I pushed into the inn and, by good
+hap, lighted on the host, nearly out of his five wits with trying to
+understand one word of English in a score of Gaelic.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hello, surry!" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom!" said he, "Staffordsheer at last."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've heard a lot about Leek ale," said I. "Draw me a mug of it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He brought it in a trice, and his face beamed with honest pride as he
+said, holding it up between my eyes and the light, "What do you think o'
+that for colour and nap? Damn my bones! None of your London rot-gut,
+master, but honest Staffordsheer ale. Damme, you can fairly chew the malt
+in it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll bet you a guinea I've drunk better," said I, with the aleyard at my
+lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'd bet on my own ale," said he, "if the 'Angel' was full of devils let
+alone petticoats. An', as between friends, y'r 'onour, win or lose, dunna
+tell my missus you've 'ad better ale than ourn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I drank off his ale and said judiciously, "No, I haven't. That's the best
+ale I've ever drunk," and handed him his guinea.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This'n's a bit of fat along with the lean," said he, spinning the guinea
+up in the air, and, countrywise, spitting on it for luck. "Be there owt I
+can do for y'r, sir? A gentleman as knows good ale when he drinks it
+shudna be neglected for a lot of bare-legged savages that 'anna as much
+judgment in beer as a sow 'as in draff." He leaned towards me and added in
+a whisper, "I'm giving 'em bouse I wudna wesh my mare's fetlocks in, an'
+they're neckin' it as if it was my rale October."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was thundery in the summer," said I gravely, whereat he grinned
+intelligently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Y'r 'onour's up to snuff," said he. "Be there owt I can do for y'r, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fetch the missus," said I, "and we'll talk."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hostess came. Her cheeks were brown as her own ale, and we talked,
+nineteen to the dozen, for at least ten minutes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the end I snapped up the best parlour overlooking the square for
+Margaret's use, and bedrooms for each of us, paying a substantial
+bargain-penny, for Mistress Waynflete had handed me back the bag of gold
+Master Freake had given me. It would be necessary, I found, to oust two or
+three bare-knees who had marked them for their own, but that could easily
+be done, if, as was unlikely to be the case, they were sober enough at
+night to crawl bedwards. These arrangements made, I pushed out and fetched
+in Margaret, who was very grateful for what I had done, and went off to
+her room, while we three men took our stand on the bricked causeway and
+watched the doings in the square.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We saw two or three battalions swing into the square from the
+Macclesfield road, and the Colonel scanned them keenly, and, as I thought,
+anxiously. Even to my untrained eye they were a mixed lot; the bulk of
+them, to be sure, were stout, active, well-armed fighting men, who marched
+in fair order, six or eight abreast; but there were numbers of oldish men
+and boys among them, and many were but indifferently armed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you number all told?" asked the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan answered in French. There was now no mistaking the gravity in
+the Colonel's face, and he took snuff so thoughtfully that, for the first
+time, he forgot me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Excuse me, my dear lad," said he, recovering himself and thrusting out
+the box towards me. "I hope there's a tobacco-man in the town who sells
+right Strasburg. I'm running out, and rappee and Brazil are mere rubbish
+to the cultivated palate." Then, looking around the square, he added
+cheerily, "Quite a show for the townsmen!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just in front of us, standing on the edge of the gutter, was a little,
+ancient, distinguished dame, who had been watching the scene with quick,
+avid eyes. She turned her fierce, scornful face up to the Colonel, and
+said, "Yes, sir! You are right. It's a show, just a show, for the
+townsmen. Yet I remember that, thirty years ago, the fathers of these
+spiritless curs were as eager for the cause as is the eagle for his
+quarry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So, madam," said the Colonel very gently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So, indeed," she returned. "But now, in their accursed grubbing for
+money, they have rooted up every finer instinct, and they think only of
+their tradings in silks with the Court ladies of London. Better a fine
+gown sold to godless Caroline than a stout blow struck for God-anointed
+James."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was beyond doubt a lady of quality, but fallen on poverty and now,
+worst of all to her, on evil, faithless days. As she stopped, short of
+breath with her sharp speaking, for she was very ancient, a mean lout of a
+man edged himself up against her to get a better position for watching the
+arrival of another body of clansmen. In a fierce access of rage she struck
+him with the ebony stick on which she leaned and, almost hissing the words
+at him, said, "Back to your buttons and your tassels, Thomas Ashley, and
+get grace by thinking on your worthy father!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man sidled off, and she continued, addressing the Colonel, "In the
+fifteen his father was one of us, and suffered worthily."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For what, madam?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For the cause," she replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For what particular service to the cause, madam?" I persisted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was zealous against the schismatics, sir," she said boldly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," was my reply, "if the zeal of any one of us, townsman or
+clansman, takes the same form this day, I shall certainly wring his neck.
+We can fight for Charles without burning chapels."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Smite-and-spare-not would subscribe to that doctrine," said Margaret,
+thrusting her way gently between the Colonel and me, and hooking a hand
+round an arm of each of us. Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered
+merrily, "<i>Push of pike and the Word</i>," and then looked so winningly
+at me that the black shadow lifted, and I smiled back at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now the craning of necks at the angle where the great road curved
+into the square, betokened something out of the ordinary, which turned out
+to be the arrival of the Prince's life-guards. They were splendid,
+well-mounted fellows, clothed in blue, faced with red, and scarlet
+waistcoats heavy with gold. With them were the leading chiefs of the army,
+and I heard Maclachlan reeling off their names and qualities in the
+Colonel's ear. The guard, in number some sixscore, formed three sides of a
+square and sat their horses, while one of the leaders proclaimed James and
+took possession of the town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cheers of the clansmen died away, only to be renewed more loudly and
+proudly when another column swept into the square. Here, indeed, were men
+apt for war and the battle, six abreast and a hundred files deep, with a
+dozen pipers piping their mightiest, and a great standard flinging to the
+breeze its proud <i>Tandem triumphans</i>. At their head strode a tall
+young man, very comely and proper, with a frank, resolute, intelligent
+face. He was dressed in the Highland fashion, with a blue bonnet topped
+with a white rosette, a broad, blue ribbon over his right shoulder, and a
+star upon his breast. The thronging thousands of clansmen burst into
+thundering volleys of Gaelic yells, the waiting leaders bared their heads
+and bowed, and I knew it was the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a short consultation with his intimate counsellors, Charles walked
+almost directly towards us, making, as it seemed, for the fine house that
+neighboured the "Angel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the townsmen, as he approached, raised their hats and cheered a
+little, for he was on sight a man to be liked. When I hear sad tales of
+him now, I think of him as I saw him then, and as I knew him in those few
+stirring days when hope spurred him on, and the star of his destiny had
+not yet climbed to its zenith. I come of a stock that sets no value on
+princes, and I would not now lift a hand to snatch the Stuarts out of the
+grave they have dug for themselves, but it is due to him, and, above all,
+due to the chiefs and clansmen who followed and fought and died for him,
+to say that the Bonnie Charlie I knew was every inch of him a man and a
+prince to his finger-tips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan darted out and dropped on his knee before Charles, who, with
+kindly impatience, seized the shoulder-knot of his plaid, haled him to his
+feet, and plied him with a throng of questions. At some reply made by the
+young chief, Charles turned his eyes on us, and, easily picking out the
+Colonel, made for him with eager outstretched hands. For his part, the
+Colonel stepped clear of the crowd on the causeway and stood at the
+salute. He was, I thought, the most self-possessed person in the square,
+and, indeed, was taking a pinch of snuff as soon as the formality was
+over, while Margaret was red and white by turns, and I shook at the knees
+as if expecting the Prince, in the manner of old Bloggs, to call me out
+and thrash me soundly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The joy of the Prince at being joined by Colonel Waynflete was overflowing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My Lord Murray has talked of you," I heard him say, "until I felt that
+you were the one man in England that mattered, and now here you are. I
+must tell Sheridan and all of them the good news."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned off and called to a group of men near him, and several of them
+came up and were made known to the Colonel. After more handshaking and
+chatting, the eager Prince caught the Colonel by the arm and was for
+dragging him off into the house destined for his lodging, but the Colonel
+in his turn resisted and led him towards Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My daughter, sir," he said, briefly and proudly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Off came the bonnet, and Charles bowed low and greeted her with very
+marked courtesy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your prince, madam," he said, "but also your very humble servant. My
+Court is a small one, and you are as important and welcome an addition to
+it as is your distinguished father to my army. Swounds, Colonel," turning
+to him with a merry smile, "I shall put a flea in his lordship's ear when
+I see him at Derby. He never so much as mentioned your daughter. Man, one
+might as well talk of stars and forget Venus!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is this excuse for him, sir," said the Colonel, very sedately,
+"that on the only occasion on which my Lord Murray saw her, which was at
+Turin in 1738, she was a whirlwind of arms and legs, long plaits and short
+petticoats."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+
+"Whereas now she--but I will reserve my opinion for the shelter of a fan
+in a secluded corner at my next little Court." Then, very abruptly, fixing
+his eyes on me, all of a swither, with my milk-stained cap in my hand,
+"And whom have we here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whereupon, strangely enough, forgetting all courtliness, Margaret, the
+Colonel, and Maclachlan fell over one another, so to speak, in telling the
+Prince who I was. For a few seconds there was a gabble of introductions,
+which made me feel hot and foolish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One at a time," laughed the Prince, "and, of course, Mistress Waynflete
+first."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your Royal Highness," said Margaret, "this is my splendid friend and
+gallant comrade, Oliver Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Enough, and more than enough, for a poor Prince Adventurer. Give me but
+the leavings of your friendship and comradeship, Master Wheatman, and I
+shall be beholden to you. And now, excuse us, madam, I have much to say to
+your father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, "I crave a little boon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You begin well," he said, and added, after a little laugh, "With all my
+heart."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here at hand," said I, "is an ancient lady who has faced this rough
+crowd and this bitter weather to see the Prince of her heart's desire. She
+is brave as a lion for you, but too modest to do more than stand and pray
+for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then he did one of those princely things that made rough men willing
+to be cut down in swathes for him. He strode up to her and seized her
+trembling hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, kneel not, dear lady," he said, putting an arm around her to
+restrain her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless your Royal Highness, and give you victory," she said brokenly.
+"This is the hour I have prayed for daily these thirty years, and I thank
+God for giving us a Prince so worthy of an earthly throne. The Lord shall
+yet have mercy upon Jacob."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thank God," said Charles, "for giving me a friend like you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His green plaid was looped up at his shoulder by a fine brooch, a
+cairngorm set in a silver rim. This he took off, and pinned it on the
+trembling woman's breast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wear this from me and for me," he said, speaking with great feeling.
+Tears were standing in Margaret's eyes, there was a big lump in my throat,
+and the Colonel was wasting precious Strasburg on the cobbles in the
+square. When the Prince had pinned it there, he doffed his bonnet, bent
+gracefully down, kissed her on the lips, and so left her. The standers-by
+now cheered in earnest, and the ancient dame fell on her knees in prayer.
+When she rose she plucked her robe around her, safeguarding her royal gift
+in her withered hands, and was for timidly stealing away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," said I, "I think you are alone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir," she whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I offered her my arm, saying, "Allow me to escort you to your home?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sharp eyes swept over me from my belt upward, and then, without a
+word, she placed her arm in mine. I looked around to bow to Margaret
+before starting, but she had disappeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We soon reached her house or, rather, cottage, which was in a street
+behind the west side of the square. She was too tottery, too dazzled, too
+afflated to speak on the way thither, but, at the door, when with a bow I
+was intending to leave her, she bade me, in a madam-like way that cut off
+debate or refusal, to enter with her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plain to the casual eye, it was the home of decayed gentility. Here would
+be refined eating of a dinner of herbs, solaced by talk of prideful
+yesterdays. You saw it in the few things that still kept their grip on the
+past: on the wall an old, black painting of a knight in ruff and quilted
+doubtlet; a pounce-box and a hawking-glove on the chimney-piece, and above
+it an oval scutcheon, with a golden eagle <i>naissant</i> from a <i>fesse
+vert</i>. And hope was ever new-born here, but it was the hope centred in
+the Virgin-Mother, posed in ivory over a wooden <i>prie-Dieu</i>. Nor did
+I feel that I had shifted from my familiar moorings as I bowed my head
+when she knelt in prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," said I, when, with a happy face, she rose and turned and thanked
+me, "it is in your power to do me a great kindness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall, then, most surely do it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ask you to pray for the soul of John Dobson."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He was your friend?" she said gently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My friend from boyhood, madam, and this morning I slew him."
+
+There was silence for a space. Then she said, "I will pray daily for the
+soul of your friend, and for you that God will have mercy upon you and
+give you peace. We women, who can only pray, do not, I fear, realize how,
+for our men, the facts of life seem to make havoc of our creeds."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are right, madam," I said sombrely. "For me to-day there is no God
+in heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yet the morrow cometh," she replied confidently. "It has come for me. My
+mind goes back to the time when the evil began that our glorious Prince is
+now uprooting. In eighty-eight, when I was a maid of some twenty Junes,
+not uncomely as I remember myself in my mirror, though not comparable with
+your sweet and splendid mistress, we, then the ancient Hardys of
+Hardywick, gave our all and lost our all for the cause. Yon scutcheon then
+hung in a noble hall. I have looked at it with pride and, God be thanked,
+without regret, during nearly sixty years of loneliness and poverty, but I
+shall die rich and friended in the possession of this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She lifted the brooch to her lips and kissed it, and then, poor soul,
+broke into a fit of coughing that racked her thin frame. A comely
+serving-woman rushed in to her aid, and together we seated her near the
+fire and wrapped a shawl around her. She seemed as one who slept with
+half-shut eyes and dreamed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She's of'n tuk like this'n," whispered her woman. "As lively as a lass
+at a wedding for an hour maybe, and then dreamy and dead-like for hours at
+a stretch. She's seventy-six come June, but I dunna think she'll live to
+see it, and to be sure, God bless her, I shall be glad to see her broken
+heart at rest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She put a smelling-bottle to her mistress's nose, and bathed the white
+lips with eau-de-Luce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I love her no end," she said simply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was time to go. I dropped on my knee and kissed the fair, thin,
+wrinkled hand. At the touch of my lips she spoke again:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Harold, my beloved! The God of all good causes go with thee!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was back in the long-ago with her lover at her knee, sending him off
+to fight for the cause, and the ringless finger showed that he had never
+come back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stole out of the room with a mist in my eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I got on the corner by the Prince's lodging, the first thing that
+caught my eye was a calash drawn up in the middle of the square, with two
+very elegant ladies in it, and a sprig of a blackamoor in green breeches
+and yellow doublet at the horse's head. Margaret and Maclachlan were
+standing by, and a merry rattle of conversation was going on between them
+and the new-comers, though Margaret, her quick mind interested in the
+vivid scenes around, kept turning her head to sweep the square with her
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had always felt and, for the most part I trust, observed the difference
+between us, but it struck me now like a blow between the eyes. It was easy
+to see that Margaret, for all her grey domino, was the mistress of the
+gay, courtly group; easy, too, to catch the meaning of the eyes the
+stranger ladies made at one another as they noted with amusement the young
+Chief's infatuation. Well, he was there, and I was here, by right. I said
+so to myself very savagely, that there should be no mistake about it, but
+I must admit to a sour taste in my mouth as I pushed into a passing group
+of clansmen, and then dodged behind a clump of ammunition wagons, and so
+got into a side-alley unseen by those searching eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came to an ale-house where I managed very well, for all that it had its
+full share of clansmen stuffed into it, making a square meal of bread and
+cheese and cold bacon, washed down with excellent ale. I made a point of
+marking myself off as an Englishman by paying for my meal in the English
+fashion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sallying forth, and still avoiding the square, I roamed round the little
+town, distracting my mind by forcing an interest in what was going on. The
+Highlanders were happy, noisy, and full of confidence--not unjustly, for
+so far they had played ninepins with the Royal troops. Everywhere they
+were hard at it, sharpening dirks and claymores and furbishing muskets,
+and such of their talk as I could understand was all of battle imminent.
+In the churchyard I found a number of them practising shooting, with a
+grand old cross as a target. They had chipped it somewhat already. I
+cursed them roundly and then bargained it off at the price of a few
+shillings. They turned their attention, with hopeful grins, to the brass
+weathercock on the church tower, which I did not deem worth saving.
+Moreover, it was a better mark, and good shooting was to be encouraged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I mooned around for an hour or so, very miserable. If my mind was idle a
+moment, I saw Jack's body lying in the dim-lit passage and the calash in
+the market-square.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tired of watching the Highlanders, I suddenly struck out for the "Angel,"
+intending to see how the horses were doing, a necessary task which I was
+to blame for neglecting so long. I was going at a great pace along by the
+shops on one side of the square and, in heedlessly passing a mercer's, had
+to skip aside to avoid a finely dressed lady coming out of the door, with
+the shopmaster, his nose nearly at his knees, bowing behind her. She was a
+stranger to me and, moreover, I had my eye on the spot where the calash
+had stood, so that, having clean avoided her, I was for striding on, but
+she said sharply, "What do you mean by such conduct, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot remember any other occasion in my life when I have been so
+completely taken aback. The elegant lady who stood there, a quizzing smile
+on her face and a roguish twinkle in her eyes, was Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've waited and waited your honour's convenience till I could wait no
+longer," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was still the delightful mock anger in her voice, but the smile and
+twinkle changed their meaning, so to speak. At least I, who delighted to
+watch the varying shades of expression sweep over her exquisite face,
+thought so as I stood there, twizzling my cap in my hand, and feeling an
+utter fool.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You cannot expect a perfect match in this light," she went on, plainly
+enjoying my discomfiture, "especially as I have had to carry the colour in
+my eye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, madam," said I desperately, having to say something, but not having
+the faintest idea of what she was driving at.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I disclaim all responsibility if it's a bungle. It will be your fault
+entirely. Your arm, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I offered her my arm, into which she slipped hers, jammed on my wretched
+hat, and together we made for the "Angel." Of course we must meet
+Maclachlan, to complete my misery I suppose, and he was keen on joining
+us, but Margaret disposed of him in a way that reminded me of Kate shooing
+a turkey off from her feeding chickens. Arrived at the "Angel," she led
+the way to her parlour overlooking the square, dragged me hurriedly to the
+window, and undid the packet. From it she took a patch of cloth and a hank
+of silk thread. These she first dabbed on my sleeve, and then flourished
+before my eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite a good match after all! Do they suit me, Oliver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was dressed in a cinnamon-brown joseph, buttoned at the waist, and
+showing, above and below, an under-dress of supple woven material, creamy
+in colour and flowered in golden silk. A hat of a military cast, made of
+some short-napped fur and set off with a great white panache, half hid and
+half revealed her masses of yellow hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You look perfect," I said emphatically.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For my Prince," she replied softly. "Off with your coat, and let me show
+you what sort of a housewife I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did as she bade me, and she doffed hat and joseph. She set me
+comfortably before the fire in an elbow-chair, and handed me a new pipe
+and a fresh paper of tobacco, and insisted on my smoking. Then, sitting
+almost at my feet in a squat rush-bottomed chair, with quaint bow legs and
+a back like a yard of ladder, she set to work on the holes Brocton's
+rapier had made in my coat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt very cubbish as I sat feeding my soul on the picture she made as
+she bent over her stitchery. A rare hobbledehoy I was in my villainous
+coat, but what I looked like in my shirt-sleeves, good linen enough but
+home-made and with never a shred of cuff or ruff to them, was past
+imagining.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was quite silent too, and though talk of any sort would have been
+distasteful to me then, for the picture was enough, I could not help
+remembering how she had rattled on with Maclachlan. Here was another
+cursed deficiency. My conversation was as country-like and
+poverty-stricken as my clothes. I had always ruled the roast at our market
+ordinaries, where I was looked upon as a bit of a fop and a miracle of
+learning, and even my farming was solemnly respected because I was so hard
+and ready a hitter. Here, in a parlour and with her, so beautiful that
+even her beautiful dress scarce attracted a passing glance, I was dull and
+ill at ease. The only thing I did, except to look at her, was to let my
+pipe out and light it again, time after time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The man in the shop told me," Margaret said, "that was the best tobacco
+that comes from the Americas."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I should think it is," said I; "I've never smoked better."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It gives you a lot of trouble," she answered, and stayed her stitching
+for a moment to look at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you get some right Strasburg for the Colonel?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No. Is he running short?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And no marvel, either. He puts his snuff-box under his pillow, and when
+I take him his chocolate of a morning, he takes a long, affectionate
+pinch, and then says, 'Good morrow, sweetheart!'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I laughed, and then fell silent and wondered. While I had been loafing
+about the town, she had been attending to my small whims and needs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now, after a smart rap at the door, in flounced a sprightly, elegant
+lady, very gay and very certain of herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a charming, domestic picture!" she broke out. "I fear I intrude,
+Margaret dear, but I'm going to stay. The girl is bringing up the tea, and
+I'm positively dying for a cup and a sit-down. Of course this"--turning
+gaily round on me, standing there like a great gawk, volubly cursing my
+shirt-sleeves under my breath--"is the incomparable Oliver! Charmed to
+meet you, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bowed, and Margaret said staidly, "Yes, my lady. This is Master Oliver
+Wheatman of the Hanyards. Oliver, I have the privilege of introducing you
+to the Lady Ogilvie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bent in the middle again and gabbled something. It was suitable to the
+occasion, I hope.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Ogilvie eyed me up and down carefully, much as I should overlook a
+bullock I had a mind to buy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When Davie left me at Macclesfield I told him I'd be guid, and I will be
+guid, but I wish he hadn't asked me," she said. "Never mind! At Derby,
+when we meet again, my promise will be lapsed, and I shall flirt with you,
+sir, most furiously."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Really, my lady," I replied, "my knowledge of the art of flirtation is
+merely rudimentary, but I always understood that it required two."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Naturally," she retorted, "that's its great charm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I see my mistake now," said I, as if thoughtfully. Margaret sat with her
+needle poised for a stitch, and waited.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're learning already, you see! What is it?" said Lady Ogilvie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One and a bit would suffice when your ladyship was the one," I said
+boldly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret laughed and resumed the swift play of her needle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed so, and I've struck sparks out of turnips in my time," she
+replied, with much complaisance. "There's a glisk of intelligence about ye
+now that was sair to seek when I came into the room. Men are like
+diamonds, you must know, Margaret darling, all the better for being cut
+and rubbed. I'll teach ye things, sir, at and after Derby, that is. Till
+then I'm to be verra guid."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bringing in of the tea interrupted us. Over the cups, though Margaret
+stuck to her work, there was gay talk about the main business of the day
+--the supper and ball to come.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The men will simply rave over you, dear," she said to Margaret. "There's
+only six of us, seven with you added, you see, for no town ladies wait on
+His Royal Highness nowadays, and I'm danced off my feet. Maclachlan will
+want you every time, and you'll be wise to have him as often as possible,
+for he dances like a fairy. Davie's none so bad, but Maclachlan is just
+grand. And the incomparable one," grimacing prettily at me, "will foot it
+trippingly by the look of him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dance like a three-legged bear," said I, grim enough at having my
+defects brought home to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it that you're telling me?" she replied. "Legs like yours and no
+music in them! Well, well, I'll take you in hand, that's flat. At Derby,
+of course."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Oliver, pray attend to the simpler matters that I deal with," said
+Margaret, cutting off the last needle of silk. "I've done the best I can
+for you. Come and appraise my work!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She held the coat up by the collar, and I stepped forward and examined it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Marvellous!" said I. "It's as good as new."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her ladyship screeched with laughter. "Oh, you courtier!" she said. "I
+never saw anything better done at the Tuileries. Look a foot higher, you
+rogue!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Still even there the job was neatly and thoroughly done, and I thanked
+Margaret for it heartily. With my coat on, I brightened up, and indeed I
+had need to, for most of their talk was in and about a world of which I
+knew nothing. Thanks to Margaret's hints and half-lights, I did well
+enough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There came a gentle rap at the door and then, without further ceremony,
+the Colonel bowed in a visitor. In the twilight at the door there was no
+seeing who the new-comer was, but as he stepped forward the full light
+revealed him. It was Prince Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stir not, ladies, on your allegiance!" he said gaily. I rose, bowed him
+into my chair, and stood behind him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oddsfish, as my great uncle used to say, I've come to save your life,
+Master Wheatman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You need not trouble, sir," said I, "to save what is freely yours to
+throw away."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very well said, sir," he answered, "and I shall not forget it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad, Oliver!" said the Colonel, dipping for his snuff-box.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Still, I must prove my point!" said Charles, smiling merrily. "My Court
+consists of precisely seven ladies and an unlimited number of gentlemen,
+the latter, for the most part, fiery chiefs who slash off men's heads as
+if they were tops of thistles. Yet here are you, sir, keeping two of them
+all to yourself. And such a two! Lady Ogilvie, whose charms are without
+blemish--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, sir," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May I pull his ears, Your Highness?" asked her ladyship tartly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You may," said Charles, "unless he proves his point. A Prince must be
+just, you know!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's fair," said Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course," retorted Lady Ogilvie. "He'll be right if he says I've an
+eye like an ox and a mouth like a frog."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Save your ears, Master Wheatman!" said Charles, grinning at me. "What's
+the blemish?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Davie!" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Prince rocked with laughter, and her ladyship enjoyed it quite as
+fully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's the smartest hit I've heard since I left Paris," said the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, "be good enough to explain. Who is Davie?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Her ladyship's husband," he replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme!" I ejaculated. "I thought he was only an ordinary Scotchman."
+Whereat everybody laughed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A most delightful interlude in a heavy day's work," said the Prince. "I
+am unfeignedly vexed, ladies, at having to rob you of so agreeable a
+cavalier, but I need Master Wheatman myself."
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+Half an hour later the Colonel stood with me at the town's end to give me
+my final instructions. I was on Sultan, with urgent letters in my pocket
+and important work on hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We took a pinch of snuff together very solemnly. Then he snapped his box,
+rubbed Sultan's velvet nose, shook my hand, said good-bye gruffly, and
+strode back townward. I cantered on into the open road and the night.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MY NEW HAT</h3>
+
+<p>
+Here was what I had dreamed of. Here was the dearest wish of my heart
+gratified. I was twenty-three, and I had three-and-twenty's darling
+equipment--a magnificent horse, a pair of unerring pistols, a fine rapier,
+a pocket full of guineas, the memory of a woman's grace and beauty, and a
+tough job in hand. The only material thing I really wanted was a new hat,
+for yester morning's milk and subsequent bashings and bruisings had ruined
+my old one. I had not bothered about it as long as it had bobbed alongside
+the grey woollen hood of Margaret's domino, but, cheek by jowl with her
+new hat, it had become an offence, and must be remedied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The black shadow flitted in and out of my mind. I was clean and clear of
+all blood-guiltiness. I had struck for Margaret as he would have struck
+for Kate. Fate had been too strong for us, but whatever penance life
+should lay upon me should be paid to the uttermost farthing. I had this
+comfort that, could Jack ride up to me now, there would be no change in
+him. There would be for me the old hearty hand-grip and the boyish,
+affectionate smile, just as when he had run in to me on the town-hall
+steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had been commissioned by the Prince to do three things: first, to
+deliver a dispatch to my Lord George Murray, wherever I should find him,
+which would probably be at Ashbourne, twelve miles ahead along a good
+road; second, to carry a letter to Sir James Blount at his house called
+Ellerton Grange, somewhere near Uttoxeter; third, to make a wide circuit
+west and south of Derby, picking up all the information I could as to the
+feeling of the populace and the disposition of the enemy's forces, and to
+report on this to the Prince in person at Derby at six o'clock the
+following night. On this third commission the Prince and Colonel Waynflete
+had laid great stress. An independent and trustworthy report was, it
+appeared, of the utmost importance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally, as a dependent commission arising out of the first of the duties
+imposed on me by the Prince, I bore a letter to my Lord Ogilvie from her
+ladyship. She had summoned me willy-nilly to her room privily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tell Davie yonder that I'm very well and very, very guid," she said, as
+she handed me the letter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With infinite pleasure, my lady," I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will be true, ye ken," she asserted, as if there was a corner for
+dubiety in her own mind regarding the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Solemnly and obviously true, my lady," I agreed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, thou incomparable Oliver, I wish you were a lass," she said, lifting
+her merry, girlish face level with mine, and putting a hand on each of my
+shoulders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, my lady?" I said, straightening at her touch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then you could give Davie this as well!" which said, she pecked lightly
+at me with her sweet lips and kissed me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It had flustered me greatly, but she only laughed ringingly and
+delightsomely as I backed out of the room. And when, door-knob in hand, I
+made my last bow, she had wagged her finger at me for emphasis and said,
+"Dinna forget to tell Davie I'm very guid."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Good she was, as beaten gold, and she kept her spirits up to this high
+pitch to the very end. You can read in Mr. Volunteer Ray's history of the
+whole affair of the 'Forty-five' how, after Culloden, she was taken
+prisoner while dressing for the ball which was to crown the expected
+victory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I smiled a young man's smile as I thought of it. Experience was writing
+some items on the credit side of my new account with life. I had met a
+winsome lady of title and she had kissed me. Margaret, behind my back and
+to a third party, had called me an "incomparable" something. What, I knew
+not,--"servant" probably, but I cared not what.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mile after mile passed without incident of any kind until, at a second's
+notice, I rode into a ring of muskets which closed round me out of vacancy
+as if by magic. It was the outermost picket of the army at Ashbourne. I
+gave the parole, "Henry and Newcastle," and demanded a guide to my Lord
+George Murray's quarters. There came a Gaelic grunt out of the gloom; men
+and muskets disappeared, with the exception of a single clansman, who
+seized Sultan's bridle and led me into the town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The General was quartered at the "Swan with Two Necks," a very
+respectable hostelry, where my first care was to have a cloth thrown over
+Sultan, and to order for him a bucket of warm small beer with three or
+four handfuls of oatmeal stirred into it. While this was adoing, and I was
+awaiting a summons to his lordship's presence, I took a nip of brandy in
+the public room of the inn, and over it amused myself by reading a crude
+fly-sheet nailed on the wall, offering a reward of fifty guineas to anyone
+giving information leading to the arrest of one Samuel Nixon, commonly
+called 'Swift Nicks,' a notorious highwayman, six feet high, of very
+genteel appearance, well-spoken, but a cruel, bloody ruffian with it all.
+The Highlander interrupted my reading by beckoning me to follow him.
+Upstairs we went, and he ushered me into a room where were two gentlemen
+seated on opposite sides of a table on which were a small map and two
+large glasses containing a yellowish liquid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The younger of them was of much the same general appearance as
+Maclachlan, though by the look of him a simpler and sweeter man. The
+other, a middle-aged, domineering man with a powerful face, looked angrily
+at me as I handed him my dispatch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He read it impatiently, threw it down beside the map, and said, "They're
+coming on to-night, Davie." Then, curtly to me, "Your name, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wheatman of the Hanyards."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hanyards? Humph! Are you an Irishman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, my lord. Not even a Scotchman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He glared at me, but his companion laughed, and said, "That's one under
+your short ribs, Geordie!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn the Irish!" cried Murray. "They're the ruination of the whole
+business, Davie, and ye know it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course they are," he replied, "but that's no reason for telling it to
+an English loon who thinks less of a Scotchman than he does of a pickelt
+herring."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That may be, my lord," said I to him, "but I think so well of one
+Scottish lady that I'm proud to be her humble courier." And I handed him
+his letter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Man! man!" he said ecstatically, as he ripped it open, "ye're welcome as
+sunshine in December. It's from Ishbel. God bless her pretty face!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He read the letter eagerly and then thrust it into his bosom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am, further," I went on, "entrusted with a message from her ladyship."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless her! Out with it, man, out with it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was to inform you that she was very, very good," said I, soberly as a
+judge passing sentence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What do you think of that, Geordie Murray? Very, very guid! Eh, man,
+isn't she a monkey? God bless her!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll send the whole lot of 'em packing off back to Edinburgh," said
+Murray. "Women are a nuisance on a campaign. Your Ishbel, be hanged to
+her, wants a carriage all her own and another for her fineries."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye ken a lot about soldiering, Geordie," retorted Ogilvie, "no man more,
+but ye ken less about soldiers than a lad of ten. At Gladsmuir I said to
+MacIntosh, 'Let's get the damn thing over, Sandy, and be back to breakfast
+wi' the leddies!' And we did."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You did so," acknowledged Murray. "Now, Davie, take our courier out and
+feed him. I thank you, sir! You have ridden speedily. Your pace is faster
+than your tongue."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," said I, "although I am doing his Royal Highness such poor
+service as lies in me, I am not yet duly acting under his commission and
+authority."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What of it?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hence I am not an officer under your command, my lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Excellent logic! And the therefore, my beef-eating friend, is....?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That I would as lief knock your head off as look at you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you are an officer," cried he, "by gad, sir, I'll teach ye the
+manners of an officer. Till then, my birkie," rising and holding out his
+hand, "guid luck to ye!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We shook hands heartily and so parted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's a grand man is Geordie Murray," said Ogilvie, as he led me to
+another room across the landing. "Just a wee bit birsy, maybe, but these
+damned Irish have got his kail through the reek. They're o'ermuch on his
+spirits of late."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All his other talk was of his lady, though he looked well enough after
+me, and I made a good meal of the better half of a cold chicken, a cottage
+loaf, and a tankard of poor ale. Ashbourne is noted, say the wise in such
+matters, for the best malt and the poorest ale in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am overmuch English, as is often the case with us who live in the very
+heart of England. The famous Mr. Johnson is a shire-fellow of mine, and
+very proud I am of it, and reckon it among the greatest events of my life
+that he has bullyragged me soundly for differing from him, and being
+right, about a line of Virgil he had misquoted in my hearing. Like Mr.
+Johnson, I love men and loathe dancing-masters, and these Scotsmen were
+men indeed, my Lord Ogilvie, as I came to know later, one of the choicest.
+He was a spare-built man, in years thirty or thereabouts, with a face all
+lines and angles, and dotted with pock-marks. For a lord, his purse was
+very bare of guineas, and nature had made up for it by giving him a belly
+full of pride. For him, the Highland line had been the boundary of the
+known world, so that his mind was a chequer-work of curious ignorance and
+knowledge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the first I liked him for his joy in his dainty lady. She was the
+daughter of a cadet of a distant branch of the famous Bobbing John's
+family, and had spent nearly all her life in France till, on a chance
+visit to Scotland, she had been snapped up by Ogilvie. They were a
+strangely matched pair, she from the gay <i>salons</i> of Paris, he from
+the misty mountains of the north; but mutual love had assorted them to
+admiration, for the heart of each was sound as a bell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Between bites I answered questions as to how she had looked, what she'd
+said, done, and so forth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was she wearing her brown riding-coat with the pretty wee shoulder
+capes?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said I, becoming more interested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Or her creamy dress with the gold flowers all over it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said I again, smiling at my discoveries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She's keeping 'em for London," he explained. "Gosh, man! She will look
+divine in 'em."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She won't," said I, clipping away at the sweet bits still hanging on the
+carcass of my chicken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It'll take your logic all its time to keep six inches o' cauld steel out
+of your brisket," he said very fiercely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never had better chicken in my life," said I, watching him out of one
+eye--quite enough for any Scotsman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn the chicken!" he roared. "Why won't she?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because she's given 'em away," I explained in my airiest tones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The blue blazes of hell!" gasped his lordship. "Given 'em away, and they
+cost me twenty pounds English! Given 'em away!" he whined, utterly lost
+for words, "given 'em away! The callack's clean dawpit. Twenty pounds good
+English money!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing like enough!" said I. "You'll be sorry it wasn't two hundred."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two hundred pounds English was, however, something too stupendous for his
+mind to grasp, and the gibe had no effect on him. While I finished my ale
+he chuntered away in his own Gaelic.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll mak' it up in London," he said at length, "but it'll be the deil's
+own job."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will indeed," I agreed, and drained my tankard dry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A look at my watch told me it was time to set about my second commission.
+Sultan was brought from the stable, fit as a fiddle and eager to be going.
+I examined my pistols, ran the tuck up and down in its scabbard, leaped on
+Sultan, and asked for the Uttoxeter road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My Lord Ogilvie parted from me on the fairest terms, bringing me with his
+own hands a great stirrup-cup, or "dock-an-torus," as he called it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Man," said he, "I'm right glad to be acquent wi' ye. I was thinking I'd
+gang all the way to London without coming across a man worth fighting,
+much less friending, but I was in the wrang of it. Here's to ye!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," said I, "you match your sweet lady. Both of you have been
+wondrous kind to a hard-hit man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We gripped hands, saluted, and parted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was all but pitch-dark, and the moon was not due to rise for more than
+an hour, but the sky was clear and the stars were out in masses for
+company and guidance. Ellerton Grange was near Uttoxeter, and Uttoxeter
+was a sizeable townlet just inside my own county, and some fifteen miles
+from Ashbourne. The road was the usual cross-road, all of it bad and most
+of it vile. I left the going to Sultan, who did the best he could, like
+the gallant and experienced creature he was. There was nothing for me to
+do except to keep a good look out and the north star just behind my right
+hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My mind was busy going over all the memories of the last three days. I
+tried hard, but in vain, to skip the black part, the thought of which made
+me flinch as if the branding-iron was white-hot against my cheek. Mentally
+I saw double--Jack's red blood with one eye and Margaret's amber hair with
+the other. As I rode I fought memory with memory, mingling gall and honey,
+now mumbling broken prayers and now singing snatches of country
+love-songs, and so got on as best I could. In the journey of life a man
+pays for what he calls for. Life had given me what I wanted, and the price
+thereof had been death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not only was the night dark but the countryside was empty. I rode past
+dim outlines of houses and through vague, dreamlike villages without
+seeing a soul or hearing a sound. Once I saw a light ahead by the
+roadside, but out it went as the rattle of Sultan's hoofs told of my
+coming. It was no wonder, for these poor folk were living between two
+armies and wanted neither, friend nor foe. For them it was only a choice
+between the upper and the nether millstone. At last I came to a wayside
+ale-house where lights were showing. I rode up, dismounted, ran the reins
+over the catch of the shutter, and went in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the low, untidy room I found a man and a woman, bent over a miserable
+fire, with their backs to a table whereon were set out mug and platter and
+other things useful for a meal. They rose to greet me, and their faces
+told me that they were expecting some one and supposed that I was he. When
+they saw their mistake, the woman stepped smartly in front of the man and
+said, "Lord, sir, how you frighted us! What can I get for your worship?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A mug of good mulled ale," said I. "Give me good mulled ale and a little
+information, and you shall have a crown for your pains."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke pleasantly, having no need, as a mere passer-by, to do otherwise,
+but if I had been obliged to have dealings with them, I should have begun
+by distrusting them outright. The man was of the common sort of ale-house
+keeper, ugly, beery, and stupid, and old enough to be the father of his
+wife, as I call her on account of the wedding ring on her finger. She was,
+for the place and post, a complete surprise, being a jaunty, townish,
+garish woman, dressed in decayed finery. He would have slit my throat for
+a groat, she for a grudge. They looked that sort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The woman went into another room, beyond the little bar where the
+drinkables were stored, to get the spices for the mulling, and the man
+shuffled grumpily after her. Hanging on the wall behind the bar was a
+fly-sheet, the very same I had read in the "Swan with Two Necks" at
+Ashbourne.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Swift Nicks" was a much-wanted gentleman, and evidently a tobie-man with
+a wide range of activities. Out of mere vacancy of mind I walked near to
+read the fly-sheet again, and, by a curious chance, among the drone of
+words from the other room, the only one my quick ear could pick out
+distinctly was "Nicks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This made me wary, and when the woman came out and busied herself at the
+fire, and called me to see what a prime mull she was brewing, I stood over
+her, to all intent watching the process but ready for anything. And not
+without need, for her dirty husband crept softly out after her, thinking
+to catch me unawares. I flashed at him like a jack at a minnow, wrenched a
+wretched old blunderbuss out of his hands, and with the butt of it knocked
+him sprawling back into the other room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prime muller merely cackled with false laughter and went on with her
+mulling. I fetched him in by the scruff of the neck, stood him up against
+the bar, and said, "I think you're in for the soundest thrashing you've
+ever had in your life."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sarves yer right, sawney," said the woman. "Plase let him off, sir. He
+thought yow was Swift Nicks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yow bitch!" he growled. "Yow set me on!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yow'm a ligger!" she retorted. "I towd yow the gen'leman was nowt like
+Swift Nicks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How do you know that?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By the print," was the quick reply. "It tells yow all about him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fetched the fly-sheet down, held it out to her, and said sharply, "Read
+it to me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I thought this would clean beat her, but she said, simply enough, "I
+canna rade it mysen, but I've heard it read lots o' times."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you heard it read?" I asked the man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lots o' times," he echoed surlily, and I saw the woman's fingers twitch
+as if she longed to furrow his ugly face with her nails.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then why didn't you know?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke to him but turned sharp on the woman, and saw hell in her face.
+She was almost too quick for me, and answered fawningly, "The thought o'
+the money made a fool on 'im, sir. Plase let him off. I've mulled th' ale
+prime for her honour."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was true and I enjoyed it greatly. I sent the man out to rub Sultan
+down while she prepared for him under my eyes a warm drench of ale and
+meal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Be y'r honour going far?" she asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That depends how far it is to Ellerton Grange. Do you know it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh aye, y'r honour. Sir James Blount lives there. It's three miles out'n
+Tutcheter on the Burton road."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it a straight road to Uttoxeter?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Half a mile on yow'll come to a fork. Tek the road on the right and just
+ride after y'r nose. Fetch the drench, Bob!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She carried it off well, but I felt there was a deep strain of roguery in
+her. Still, willing to part on a lighter note, I gave her the crown,
+saying, "You deserve a better trade."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's none so bad," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And a better husband."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oddones! D'ye think...."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stopped abruptly, plainly caught out for the first time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A minute later I was off again. At the fork Sultan made for the left, and
+I had to pull him sharply to the right. The road got steadily worse, but
+Orion was clear in view ahead of me, dropping down behind Uttoxeter, and I
+pushed on. If a man is to turn back because of a bad road, he'll not
+travel far in the Shires. Soon, however, there was no road at all, and I
+was plump in open country. Sultan stopped and sniffed, and then turned his
+head round as if to tell me, what I already felt was the truth, that I had
+been an ass for not leaving it to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So ho! Sultan!" said I, patting his warm neck. "I deserve all you say,
+my beauty! I've put you in for a nice job."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The right road must lie somewhere to my left. I turned him that way and
+he walked on suspicious and sniffing. Fortunately the moon had risen, and
+the Jezebel's lie would only cost me a trifling delay. She would have lied
+with a purpose, and I puzzled myself in trying to reason it out. In a few
+minutes we came to the side of a spinney with a low wall of rough stones
+cutting it off from the field. I was intently looking ahead, when on a
+sudden Sultan swerved so powerfully that I rocked in the saddle. I
+wouldn't have touched him with the spur, short of utter necessity, for a
+fistful of guineas, and I soothed him, and then turned to look for what
+had upset him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To be candid I swerved myself. Most of us in these days are pleased to
+laugh at superstitions, provided we are in good company round a roaring
+fire. I was here alone in a lonely field, at nine of the clock on a winter
+night, and there, flittering and gliding through the spinney was a
+something in white. Virgil believed in ghosts, and so did Joe Braggs, and
+I, by oft reading the one and listening to the other, had preserved an
+open mind. Apparently Sultan had his doubts, for he shivered and whinnied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pulled his head round away from the ghost, drew out a pistol, and
+watched the unchancy thing's movements. It was evidently meant for me, for
+it made a slight turn and came straight towards me. Then my man's logic,
+as Margaret twittingly called it, came to my aid. Gloomy as it was, I saw
+the outlines of some steps by which the low wall could be crossed, and
+ghosts, both my authorities being in agreement on this, were independent
+of such purely human contrivances. So, waiting till the ghost was climbing
+down on my side, I said sternly, "Stop, or I fire!" Whereon it heaved a
+great sob and tumbled full length to the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I jumped down, slipped the reins over Sultan's head, and pulled him up to
+the spot. The ghost was a well-grown girl, dressed in nothing but a white
+night-gown, for I could see her bare feet beyond the hem of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be afraid, dear," said I soothingly, for she was dumb and half
+dead with fright. "What can I do for you? Say it, and it's done. Come now,
+be brave!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She sat up, leaning on her right hand, and turned her pallid, quivering
+face up to mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Robbers, sir!" she gasped. "They're murdering father and mother. For
+God's sake, sir, go and stop them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course," I replied cheerfully, slipping off my jacket. "Come on, my
+brave lass!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I helped the lass to her feet, put her into my jacket, jumped into the
+saddle, and lifted her astride behind me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Clip me tight! Which way?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Round the spinney first, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Off we went, and this time I touched Sultan with the spur and he flew
+along. Round the spinney; slantways across a field; up and over a gate,
+the girl clinging to me like a leech; down a lane; up and over another
+gate; and then the girl's shaking right arm was thrust over my shoulder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's th' ouse! 0', God, if we anna in time!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How many are there?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Two, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pulled Sultan up at the farmyard gate, helped her down, and jumped
+after her. Hitching the horse, we started across the yard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Luckily the low-down moon was on the far side of the house, and we could
+run softly up in the pitch dark. As I write I feel that brave girl's hard
+grip of my hand as we raced on. At a half-open door we halted; she loosed
+hold of me, and I tiptoed on alone. From within I heard the crash of one
+pot and then another on the brick floor of the kitchen, as the villain,
+searching for hidden money, smashed them to the ground. Bitten to the
+vitals by his want of success, he yelled, "I'll burn the sow's eye out!
+That'll open her mouth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With wrath flaming in my heart I stepped into the doorway leading to the
+kitchen. My eyes lit on a poor woman bound hard and fast in a chair, and a
+masked beast, his big white teeth showing through lips thrust wide apart
+in a grin of hellish rage, approaching a red-hot poker towards her face. I
+shot him, and he tumbled into a squirming heap. The other villain raced
+for dear life through the open front door. My second bullet got him on the
+very threshold, for he yelped and sprang into the air like a stricken
+buck, but he held on. I e'en let him go, not daring to leave the unkilled
+scoundrel on the floor, for he had a regular battery of pistols in his
+belt. The girl was already untying her mother, and her father, bound and
+gagged in his chair in the ingle-nook, could bide a while. So I plucked
+the pistols out, there were six of them, and rattled them down on the
+table. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig, and his purpling face and
+heaving throat showed that he was choking. As I destined him for the
+gallows, I picked him up, flung him face down on the table, and thumped
+him violently in the back, whereupon he coughed up a tooth. My bullet had
+stripped out all his grinning front teeth clean and clear, just as our
+Kate's dainty thumb strips the row of peas out of a peascod. Once the
+tooth was up he was not greatly hurt, and, holding one of his own pistols
+to his head, I bade him unstrap the farmer. As soon as the latter was
+free, I ordered him to strap the robber to a kitchen chair, which he did
+very thoroughly. The instant this job was done, he leaped to fondle and
+hearten his wife. She kissed him back and, without a word, feebly pointed
+to me, whereupon he turned and thanked me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank your brave daughter," said I, and then he jumped at her and hugged
+her in his big arms, blubbing out, "My bonny, bonny Nance!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At my wish he lit a lantern, and we went out and stabled Sultan. We went
+back through the kitchen to make a search of the front of the house. A
+pretty sight awaited me within doors. The good wife was sipping at a cup
+of parsnip wine, and the girl was again wearing nothing but her
+nightdress. With crimson face and downcast eyes, she stood there holding
+my coat out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hallo, ghostie!" said I, smiling at her. "You want to frighten me again,
+do you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Too confused to say a word, she lackeyed me into my coat and then ran
+upstairs. To cut short her mother's tearful thanks, I led the way to the
+door, and we started our examination.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some two yards from the door-sill the feeble rays of the lantern were
+reflected from something on the ground. To my great satisfaction it was
+fair booty to me, nothing less than my closest need, a rare good hat made
+of the finest beaver. The band was buckled with gold, and there was a
+taking and surely very fashionable cock to the brim. I sent my old one
+spinning into the blackness and clapped my new treasure on my head. Now I
+could walk side by side with Margaret and not be ashamed, at any rate not
+of my hat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The rogue jerked it off when I winged him," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gom! He did jump, that's sartin," said the farmer, whose name, I ought
+to say, I had learned was Job Lousely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was quite a step down to the road, and we made no further discovery
+till we got to the gate. Here it was his turn to be lucky, for there was
+an excellent nag hitched to a rail. It was on Job's ground and he gave it
+a home in his stable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It'll mak up for the crockery," he said, with great delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Back in the kitchen we found Nance fully dressed and busy laying a meal
+on the table. She was so taken aback when I declared I was not hungry and
+couldn't stay if I had been, that, to save her distress, I had a bite and
+a sup of ale, while Job fetched Sultan round to the door. She was a sweet,
+comely maiden, and it did my heart good to see her put a horn of ale to
+the bleeding lips of the robber. He drank ravenously, like a dog after a
+hard run. He was where he deserved to be, with his feet in the short,
+straight path to the gallows, and I pitied him not. Nance did, and it's
+good for the world that women are made that way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How far is it to Ellerton Grange?" I asked Job, who came in to tell me
+Sultan was ready.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A matter of six miles, sir. Three from here to Tutcheter, and three more
+on to the Grange."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How funny, father," interposed Nance. "This is the second time tonight a
+gentleman has asked the road to Ellerton Grange."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would hardly have struck Job as funny if it had been the
+twenty-second, but Nance was quick and shrewd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ho! Ho!" said I. "Tell me about it, little woman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was wishing my Jim good night at the gate, just before father came
+home, when a man riding by pulled up and asked the road to Ellerton
+Grange."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did you make him out, Nance?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not much of him, sir, but the moon shone on his face when he took his
+hat off to wipe his forehead, and it looked for all the world like an
+addled duck-egg."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well put, Nance," said I, laughing. "First time I saw that face I
+thought it was like a bladder of lard."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know him, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think I do, Nance, and I must be after him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Out of the robber's string of pistols I selected a pair for myself. They
+were lawful prize, and equal in quality to those Master Freake had given
+me, so that the rascal had probably stolen them. I saw that all the others
+were loaded, and advised Job to watch him all night and to lift him, chair
+and all, into a cart the next morning and drive him off to the nearest
+Justice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Job and his wife renewed their thanks when I was in the saddle. Nance
+insisted on coming to open the gate, and on the way there she gave me full
+and careful directions as to the way to Tutcheter and thence to the Grange.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She swung the gate open and let me through. Then she came to my sword
+side and held up her face to be kissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, ghostie!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, sir! God bless you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Kissing and blessing were reward enough for my service, and I rode on
+lighter at heart for them.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE DOUBLE SIX</h3>
+
+<p>
+The time had not been wasted. I had had a stirring experience and got a
+hint of dangers and uncertainties ahead. Moreover, and on this I plumed
+myself most, I had acquired a handsome hat. It was a trifle roomy, but a
+wisp of paper tucked within the inside rim would remedy that defect. The
+moon was getting higher and brighter, and I pulled my new treasure off
+again and again to admire it. It had belonged to a rascal with an
+excellent taste in hats. I was very content with it, and looked forward
+eagerly to catching the glint in Margaret's eyes when she saw it. After
+all it behoved me to look well in her presence, and I regretted that the
+rogue had not shed his coat and breeches as well. No doubt they were
+equally modish and becoming, and would have set me up finely, though all
+the tailors in London town couldn't make me a match for Maclachlan. A man
+has to be born to fine clothes, like a bird to fine feathers, before he
+looks well in them. The thought made me rueful. I jammed my hat on
+fiercely, and slapped Sultan into a longer stride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man ahead of me was, out of question, the Government spy, Weir. It
+was now a full day and more since I had crammed my Virgil into his maw,
+and he had had time to get into these parts. Thirty years before there had
+been much feeling for the honest party hereabouts, and among the gentry
+along the border of the shires there would be some in whose hearts the old
+flame still flickered. Indeed, my own errand proved so much, and a
+noser-out like Weir would be well employed in rooting up fragments of
+gossip over the bottle and memories of beery confidences at market
+ordinaries--sunken straws which showed the back-washes of opinion beneath
+the placid surface flow of our rural life. I dug my fingers into my thigh
+and imagined I was wringing the rascal's greasy neck, and the feeling did
+me good.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began to ride past scattered houses and then between rows of cottages.
+Sultan was tiring a little, but, being an experienced horse, pricked up at
+the sight and cantered down the dead main street of the town. The shadows
+of the houses on my left ended in an irregular line on the cobbled
+causeway on my right. Near the town end I came on an exception to the
+black-and-white stillness of the houses--an inn on my right ablaze with
+light and full of noise. A merry liquorish company it held, some
+quarrelling, some rowdily disputatious, and a few stentors trying to drown
+the rest by roaring a tipsy catch. I pulled Sultan towards the verge of
+the shadows to see if I could make anything out, and he, supposing, no
+doubt, that I was guiding him towards bait and stable, made a half-turn
+towards the portico that ran on pillars along the face of the inn. I
+checked him at once, but, in that trice of time, a man leaped from behind
+a pillar, laid one hand on the pommel of my saddle, and raised the other
+in warning. He was a little man, and in his eagerness he stood on tiptoe
+and whispered, "Ride on, Master Wheatman! One second may cost you dear!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even as he spoke, some movement within startled him, and he leaped back
+into the shadow before I could question him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I urged Sultan onward, and once out of footfall of the inn, pricked him
+into a gallop. Out of the town he fled, past the end of the Stafford road,
+along which two hours of Sultan's best would bring me to the Hanyards and
+mother and Kate, and I kept him at it for a full two miles before I gave
+him a breather and settled down to think out what it meant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not know the man from Adam, but he had me and my name quite pat. He
+was obviously a friend, for his bearing and his warning alike bespoke his
+goodwill towards me. He must be waiting there for some purpose, and he
+must have seen me somewhere and learned enough about me to know from what
+source danger to me was certain to come. In this case it was plain that
+the danger was within the inn. The carousers might be, nay, almost
+certainly were, soldiers, though there had been none in the town when Job
+Lousely had left it less than two hours ago. The news of my escapade might
+well have leaked into Stafford by now; I was very well known in the town,
+and the stranger might be some Stafford chap benighted at Uttoxeter after
+his business at the market. As I say, I did not know the man, but he might
+very well know me; he was, perhaps, some old schoolfellow, grown out of
+recollection by moonlight, and still willing to serve an old butty. This
+seemed the likeliest solution of the difficulty, and it made me very sad.
+The news about Jack would be whispered round by now, and I could never
+walk the old streets again without seeing nods and shudders everywhere.
+<i>See him? That's him! Killed his best friend! Wheatman of the Hanyards!
+Never held his head up since! And hadn't ought to!</i> The chatter of the
+townsfolk crept into my ears between the hoof-beats, and made me sick and
+dizzy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would not have happened but for the bladder-faced scoundrel ahead of
+me, now creeping around like a loathsome insect to sting a man of ancient
+name and fame, and I was eager to be at him again. Sultan, without more
+urging, had made the furlongs fly in gallant style, and it was time to be
+looking out for my landmarks. Nance had made me letter-perfect in them.
+Here, on the right, was the woodward's cottage where the road began to run
+downhill into a bottom dark with ancient elms: there, on my left, in an
+open space among the boles, the moon showed up a worn, grey column which
+marked the spot where, in the wild days of the Roses, a Parker Putwell had
+slain a Blount in unfair fight for a light of love not worth the blood of
+a rabbit. Nance had very earnestly told me the old, sad tale, to impress
+the spot on my mind, for the long lane up to Ellerton Grange began in the
+shadows just beyond the monument, and wound away up the slope to the
+right. The road carried us up where the moon-light fell on meadows that
+were almost lawns, and across them to a maze of buildings. A minute later,
+I leaped off Sultan and hammered away at the studded oaken door of
+Ellerton Grange.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No man came to my summons, and I sent a second volley of rat-tats echoing
+through the house before I heard a shuffling of feet within and a drawing
+of big bolts. The door crept open for a foot or so, and an old man's head,
+with a lantern trembling over it, appeared in the gap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who's there?" he quavered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wheatman of the Hanyards," I answered; "but my name is nothing to the
+purpose and my business is. I must see Sir James Blount."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's abed," said he, "hours ago!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then fetch him out!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man pushed his lantern close to my face and straightened himself
+to take a fair look at me. He had sunken cheeks and toothless gums, and
+hairless eyes with raw, red lids, and out of all question was some
+ancient, rusty serving-man, tottery and slow, but quick-minded enough, and
+of a dog-like faithfulness to the hand that fed him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Young and masterly," he muttered, "and o'er young to be so o'er
+masterly. But I mind the day when I would 'a' raddled his bones with my
+quarterstaff."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I won't naysay it, grandad," I answered, seeking to humour him. "In your
+time you've been a two-inch taller lad than I am. Not so big o' the chest,
+though, grandad."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who're you grandadding? I was big enough o' the chest when I could neck
+meat and drink enough to fill me out. Now!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he spoke he gripped a handful of the waistcoat that hung loosely about
+him, and added, "Once it was a fair fit, my master. It's cold and late for
+my old bones to be creaking about, but Trusty's the dog for the tail-end
+of the hunt, and a Blount's a Blount and mun be served."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fetch him out!" I repeated. "I've ridden hard and far to serve him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ancient took another look at me and said to himself in a loud
+whisper, after the manner of old and favoured serving-men, "A farmering
+body all but his hat, and none o' your ride-by-nights."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fetch him out!" said I again, not for want of fresh words to say to the
+candid old dodderer but to keep him to the point.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh-aye," said he, and shuffled off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He left me fuming, for his last mutteration, as he shook his lantern to
+stir the flame up a bit, was, "Knows a true man when he sees one. More
+used to a carving-knife than a sword, I'll be bound. What did he say?
+Wheatman o' sommat! Reg'lar farmering name!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I kicked the door wide open and watched the lantern bobbing along the
+hall. The light made pale shimmerings on complete suits of mail hanging so
+life-like on the high, bare, stone walls, that it seemed for all the world
+as if the knights had been crucified there and, little by little, age
+after age, had dropped to dust, leaving their warrior panoplies behind
+--empty shells on the shore of time from which the life had dripped and
+rotted. The old man toiled up the grand staircase at the far end of the
+hall and turned to the right along a gallery. The friendly light
+disappeared, leaving me darkling and alone. Sultan sniffed his way to the
+door, pushed in his head and neck, and rubbed his nose against my breast
+in all friendliness. I flung my arms round his neck and caressed him, and
+in those anxious minutes in the doorway of Ellerton Grange he was comrade
+and sweetheart to me, and comforted my spirit greatly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Footsteps and a voice within made me turn my head. A man came at a run
+down the stairs and along the hall. After him the old serving-man
+hastened, lantern in hand, as best he could.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir James Blount?" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The same," said he curtly and confusedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I bring you a letter from a very exalted person, Sir James," I explained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took it from me much as he would have taken a bowl of poison. "The
+light! The light! You slow old fool! The light!" he said, jerking the
+words out as if his soul was in distress, and the ancient, barely half-way
+down the hall, quickened his poor pace up to his master. He, tearing the
+lantern out of the feeble hands, and rattling it down on a table, ripped
+open the letter and devoured its contents.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The light of the lantern revealed the face of a man still young, but at
+least a half-score years my elder. He had a thin-lipped, sensitive mouth,
+a great arched nose, and quick, eager eyes. His mind was running like a
+mill-race, and his fine face twitched and wreathed and wrinkled under the
+stress of the flow. Another thing plain enough was that the old man had
+lied when he said his master was abed, for he was fully and carefully
+dressed and his wig had not in it a single displaced or unravelled curl.
+This was no half-awakened dreamer, but a man with the issues of his life
+at stake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He crushed the letter in his hand and paced up and down the hall,
+muttering to himself. I turned and rubbed Sultan's nose to keep him quiet
+and happy. The old servant took charge of the lantern again, and followed
+his master up and down with his eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A year ago, yes! A year ago, yes!" I heard Sir James say. He quickened
+his steps and the words came in jerks, mere nouns with verbs too big with
+meaning for him to utter them. "A word! A dream! A dead faith! Yes,
+father! The devil! Sweetheart!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is a great line in the Aeneid which I had tried in vain a hundred
+times to translate. Three days agone I would have tilted at it once more
+with all the untutored zeal of a verbalist. I should never need to try
+again. There are some lines in the Master that life alone can translate.
+<i>Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a turn or two in silence, Sir James broke off his pacing and came
+to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," he said, "you will know enough to excuse my inattention to a
+guest. I must make it up if I can. Give me the lantern and wait for us
+here, Inskip. Come with me, sir, and stable your horse. Gad so, sir,"
+holding up the lantern, "you ride the noblest animal I have ever seen.
+Woa, ho, my beauty! All my men are abed, so we must do it ourselves, but,
+by Heaven, it will be a pleasure, Master--what may I call you, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Just the plain name of my fathers--Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A good strong name, sir, though my fathers liked it not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you, Sir James?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Frankly, it is a name which to me has ceased to be a symbol. A good
+fellow can call himself 'Oliver' without setting my teeth on edge. I had a
+grand foxhound once, and called him 'Noll,' just because he was grand. My
+dear old father consulted a London doctor as to the state of my mind. It
+made him anxious, you see! The great man said, gruffly enough, that I was
+as sane as a jackdaw. Thereupon my dear dad, one of the best men that ever
+lived, had the dog shot!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He laughed, reminiscently rather than merrily, and was to my mind bent on
+getting a grip on himself again. We made Sultan comfortable for the night,
+and then Sir James courteously said it was high time to be attending to
+me. He made no further indirect reference to the situation, until, as he
+was leading me along the hall, he stopped opposite a great dim picture,
+hanging between two sets of mail, and held the lantern high over his head
+to give me a view of it. With a strange mixture of resentment and pathos,
+he said, "A man's ancestors are sometimes a damned nuisance, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are indeed!" I replied. "There's one of mine shaking his fist at me
+over the battlements of the New Jerusalem."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He laughed heartily, and, with Inskip trailing patiently behind us, led
+me upstairs, and through the gallery into a long corridor, lit by lanterns
+fixed in sconces on the walls. We stopped opposite a door, and he was
+about to lead me in when another door farther along the corridor opened
+and a lady came out. She was all in white with dark hair hanging loose
+about her shoulders, and there was a something in her arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Down went the lantern with a bang, and Sir James flew like a hunted buck
+along the corridor. He whipped his arms around the lady and kissed her
+passionately, and then flung on his knees and held out his arms. She put
+the something in white into them and there was a little puling cry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Married a year come Christmas," whispered old Inskip, "and the babby's
+five weeks old to-morrow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A serving-woman bustled out of another room, and the lady and child were
+affectionately driven off to bed under her escort. Sir James came slowly
+back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My wife and son, Mr. Wheatman," he said. "You must meet them to-morrow.
+The young rascal cries out whenever I desecrate him with my touch. It
+would have served him right to have christened him 'Oliver.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I laughed heartily, for he was fighting himself again by gibing at me. He
+sent off the old man to scour the pantry for a supper for me, and then
+pushed open the door and led me into the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For size and dignity, it was a room to take away the breath of a poor
+yeoman. It seemed to me a Sabbath day's journey to the great blazing
+hearth, where two men were sitting; the high white ceiling was moulded
+into a wondrous design, with great carved pendants hanging from it like
+icicles from the eaves of the Hanyards. Many bookcases ran half-way up the
+walls round the greater part of the room, filled with stores of books such
+as my heart had never dreamed of, great leather-bound folios by platoons,
+and quartos by regiments. If I could get permission I would steal an hour
+or two from sleep to eye them over, and as we walked towards the hearth I
+got behind my host in my slowness and had to step up smartly to get level
+with him to make my bow of introduction. I gasped with the shock as I
+stepped into the arms of Master John Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear lad," he cried, "what luck! What luck! How are you? How are they?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He made me sit down beside him, for here as elsewhere he was easily the
+most important man present, though his bearing was ever quiet and modest.
+He spoke of me to Sir James in warm and kindly phrases, and it soon became
+manifest that his good word was a passport into my host's confidence and
+regard. The three gentlemen filled their glasses and toasted me with grave
+courtesy, and I easily slid out of the uneasy mood into which Inskip's
+candour and my unaccustomed surroundings had driven me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The third man present was a Welsh baronet, Sir Griffith Williams, a
+far-away cousin and close friend of Sir Watkin Wynne, whose name I
+remembered to have heard on the Colonel's lips at Leek. Sir Griffith was a
+brisk, apple-cheeked man of forty or thereabouts, very fluent of speech in
+somewhat uncertain English, with fewer ideas in his head than there are
+pips in a codlin, but what there were of them singularly clear and
+precise. He reminded me of Joe Braggs, who could only whistle three tunes,
+but whistled them like a lark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Inskip brought me a rare dish of venison-pie and various other good
+things, and laid out the table for me. I left Master Freake's side to eat
+my supper and listen to their talk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They made various false starts, followed by dead silences. It was clean
+useless for Sir James to talk about his baby. Sir Griffith had had a long
+family and so had exhausted the topic years ago, whilst Master Freake, a
+bachelor, knew nothing about it. There had been a great flood in the
+Welshman's valley in the autumn and he harangued upon it in style, and not
+without gleams of native poetry, but Sir James had never seen a flood and
+Master Freake had never been to Wales, so the flood soon dried up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a silence for some minutes, busy minutes for me with an apple
+tart that was sublime with some cream to it, and I was settling down to
+the sweet content of the well-fed when Sir James broke out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Wheatman has brought me an invitation, hardly to be distinguished
+from a command, to meet His Royal Highness at the Poles' place tomorrow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The eager Welshman bounced on to his feet, raised his glass and said, "To
+the Prince, God bless him." Sir James had to follow his example, though he
+was in no mood for it, and it would have looked ill had I not joined in,
+and moreover the wine was excellent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Master Freake. "I am not clear
+which Royal Highness is referred to, and besides I have no politics."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God bless him," bubbled the Welshman. "I shall join him when he has
+crossed the Trent."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again there was silence for a space.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So the question is put, and I must give my answer," said Sir James,
+breaking the stillness. "I must put my hand to the plough or draw back. I
+must keep my word or break it. Can I be loyal to my father's creed and
+also to my child's interests? I've got to be both if I can. If I can't be
+both, which is to have the go-by? Fate has put me in a cleft stick, Master
+Wheatman. On his death-bed my father handed on to me his place in the old
+faith. He was a devoted adherent of the exiled House, the close friend and
+associate of Honest Shippen, and even more intimately concerned than he in
+the underground network of intrigue and preparation which was constantly
+being woven, ruined, and re-woven up to his death ten years ago. He left
+me poor and encumbered with debt, for he had been prodigal in his
+sacrifices for the cause. It is a wonder that he died in his bed rather
+than on the block, but he was as wary as he was zealous. For nine years I
+lived here the life of a hermit, alone with my debts and my books. Then I
+met a young girl"--his voice broke badly--"who became to me the
+all-in-all of my life. By good fortune I also met Master Freake, who took
+my affairs in hand for me and has helped me wisely and generously."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For ten per cent, Oliver," interrupted Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nonsense! Wisely and generously, I repeat," said Sir James warmly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For ten per cent on good security, I repeat," answered Master Freake
+gravely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn your ten per cent!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Looks like it, and the security into the bargain!" said Master Freake
+very quickly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Swounds! that's just it!" said Sir James. He rose and paced backwards
+and forwards between me and the hearth. "A year ago, sir,"--he addressed
+me in particular--"I should have shouted with joy at the summons to take
+the place among the adherents of the cause which my father would have held
+had he lived, and which it was his heart's wish on his death-bed that I
+should take for him. The cause and the creed are nothing to me as such,
+for I place no value on either. Your talk about the right divine of old
+Mr. Melancholy, mumming and mimicking away there at Rome, makes me smile.
+He's an old fool, that's the long and short of it. But a Blount's a Blount
+after all. I owe something to my ancestors. My word to my father ought not
+to be an empty breath. Yet here I am, with all the interests of life
+pulling one way--wait till you've a boy five weeks old by a wife you'd be
+cut in little pieces for, and you'll know, sir,--and a dead father and a
+dead creed pulling the other. I knew what was coming, and I've talked
+about it and thought about it till my head's like a bee-hive. Now, sir,
+give me your advice!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have joined the standard of your Prince," I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme, sir, you mock me. That's not advice. That's torture."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have turned my back on the creed of my life and on every sound
+instinct in me," I continued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stopped his walk and looked intently at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have ancestors whose memory I cherish, and I have torn up their work
+as if it were a scrap of paper covered with a child's meaningless
+scribble."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir James stepped up to the table, his fine face alive with emotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For what?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I rose and looked straight into his eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For a woman," I whispered, very low but very proudly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our hands met across the table in a hard grip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have done well, sir!" he said. "I asked you to give me advice. You
+have set me an example."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat down again, and looked hopefully at the fire and then moodily at
+Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is this unfortunate difference between Mr. Wheatman's case and
+mine. I have, and he has not, given my plain word to a father."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I admit that is a striking difference," said Master Freake. "I am no
+Jesuit, however, and cannot decide cases of conscience. I deal with
+business problems only, which are all cut and dry, legal and formal. When
+I make a promise in the way of business I always keep it precisely and
+punctually, for the penalty of failure to do so is a business man's death
+--bankruptcy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's such a thing as moral bankruptcy," said Sir James gloomily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very likely," replied Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is all nothing whatefer but words, words, words," said the
+Welshman. "And words, my goot sirs, are indeed no goot whatefer. Sir
+James's head is wrapped up in a mist of words, words, words, and indeed he
+cannot see anything whatefer. I am not a man of words, and what you call
+'em--broblems."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very good," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed it is goot," said he. "To hell with your words and your broblems.
+They are of no use whatefer, whatefer. Our good friend, Sir James, is up
+to his neck in broblems like a man in a bog, and he cannot move. Now I
+have not your broblems. To hell with your broblems. My Cousin Wynne is
+full of 'em, and he's still gaping up at the cloud on Snowdon, while I'm
+here, ready. I say plain: if the Prince cross south of the Trent I will
+join him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why the Trent?" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is my mark. It is my way of knowing what I will do. It is all so
+simple. Indeed I am a simple man, not a broblem in my brain, none
+whatefer, I tell you plain. It is as this--so. If the Prince cross the
+Trent, say I to myself, well and goot. He do his share. It is time for me
+to do mine. It is better indeed, I tell you plain, to have it settled by a
+simple thing like the Trent than to have it all muddled up by your
+broblems. I can sing you off my ancestors by dozens, right back to the
+standard-bearer of the great Llewellyn, but they're all dead, and indeed
+I'm not going to poke about among their bones to find out what to do. I
+look at your pretty river, and I wait."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir James had looked at him during this harangue with unconcealed
+impatience.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I sent a letter to Chartley of Chartley Towers," he said, "one of us,
+and a strong one by all accounts. At any rate, my father always reckoned
+him as such. So I asked him guardedly what he thought, and his reply was,
+"The chestnut is on the hob. I am waiting to see whether it jumps into the
+fire or into the fender." I cannot decide by appealing to rivers or nuts.
+There's much more in it than that."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fate snatched the problem out of his hands. Without a tap, without a
+word, the door of the room was flung open, and a dozen troopers filed
+swiftly and silently in, and covered us with their carbines. An officer,
+sword in hand, pushed through a gap in their line and stepped half a dozen
+paces towards us. He saluted us ceremoniously with his sword and said, "In
+the King's name!" Behind the line a man in citizen clothes hovered
+uncertainly, and dim as the light was I made him out only too plainly. It
+was the Government spy, Weir. My goose was cooked. I had played for life's
+highest stake, and thrown amb's ace. It was good-bye to Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Welshman stuck to his chair, stolid as his native hills. Master
+Freake, whose back was to the new-comers, made a swift half turn, and then
+he, too, settled down again as indifferently as if the interruption had
+only been old Inskip with the bedward candles. Blount leaped to his feet,
+livid with rage, and strode up to the officer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My Lord Tiverton, what does this intrusion mean?" he demanded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It means," was the composed reply, "that if any one of you makes the
+slightest attempt to resist, he will be shot out of hand. Close up, lads,
+and cover your men!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The order was obeyed briskly and exactly. The three on the left of the
+line attended to me, and I sat there, toying with a wine-glass for
+appearance sake, though the three brown barrels levelled straight and
+steady at my head made my heart rattle like a stone in a can. These were
+none of Brocton's untrained grey-coats, but precise, disciplined veterans
+in blue tunics and mitre-shaped hats, white breeches and high boots,
+belted, buttoned, and bepouched. It was almost a compliment to be shot by
+such tall fellows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seeing we were all harmless, the officer dropped his military preciseness
+as if it were an ill-fitting garment. He was the daintiest, handsomest
+wisp of a man I had ever set eyes on, and looked for all the world like an
+exquisite figure in Dresden china come to life. He could not have had much
+soldiering--the air and aroma of the London <i>salon</i> still hung
+closely around him--and he was so very self-possessed that he was
+play-acting half his time, doing everything with a grace and relish that
+were highly diverting. It took all my pride in my new hat out of me to see
+this desirable little picture of a man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I assure you, my dear Sir James," he said, "that it's a damned annoying
+thing to me to have to act so unhandsomely. Stap me! I shouldn't like it
+myself, but law's law and duty's duty, and so on, you know the old tale,
+and I'm obleeged to do it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He opened his snuff-box and offered it to Sir James, who brusquely waved
+it aside, saying, "Your explanation, if you please, my lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme, don't be peevish! Smoke the Venus in the lid? Isn't she a
+sparkler? Wish I'd lived in the times when ladies lay about on seashores
+like it! I hate these damned crinolines. Saw Somerset in 'em in the
+Pantiles. Could have pushed her over and trundled her like a barrel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," reiterated Blount, "I await your explanation."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Boot's on the other leg," he chirped. "A'nt I pouched you all cleverly,
+stap me, seeing the ink on my commission's hardly dry? Didn't think it was
+in me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will take the authority of your commission as sufficient, my lord, the
+times being what they are. But will you be good enough to tell me why you
+come?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gadso! Certainly! There's a dirty rascal in pewter buttons behind there
+--come here, sir, and let Sir James see your ugly face!--who says you're a
+disloyal person, a traitor, and so forth. I don't believe him. I wouldn't
+crack a flea on his unsupported testimony, but he's in the know of things,
+and showed me a commission from Mr. Secretary, calling on His Majesty's
+liege subjects, etc., you know the run of it, and I was bound to look into
+it. Charges are charges, stap me if they a'nt. Don't come too near, pig's
+eyes! Out with your tale!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His lordship plainly disliked the whole business, and it was a very
+awkward thing for Sir James that I was here, a circumstantial piece of
+evidence against him. I looked straight into Weir's eyes as he came
+forward, ungainly and uncertainly, smiling half his dirty teeth bare, and
+mopping his yellowy face with a dirty handkerchief. To my astonishment he
+made not a single sign of recognition. I was his trump card, and he left
+me unplayed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir James is a known Jacobite, my lord!" he quavered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite right, Mr. Weir, and if you propose to keep me out of bed these
+cold nights calling on known Jacobites, stap my vitals, Mr. Weir, if I
+don't have you flung into a pond with a brick tied round your sweaty neck
+like an unwanted pup. Anything else?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is a Jacobite plot, my lord. There's scheming and plotting against
+our gracious lord the King agoing on here, my lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll e'en have a closer look at 'em. Plots are damned interesting
+things, stap me if they a'nt, and I'm glad to see one. Here's a likely
+young fellow," striding up and examining me. "His is a plot in a meat-pie,
+it seems. There was one in a meal-tub once, I remember, so the meat-pie
+does look mighty suspicious, Mr. Weir. We're getting on. And here's a
+plotter toasting his toes. Not an intelligent member of the cabal. Stap
+me, if he a'nt asleep! I must circumambulate and have a quiz at him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He walked gaily in his play-acting way round Master Freake's chair on to
+the hearth and then turned and took a peep at him. As soon as he had done
+so he gave a great shout, and then, recovering himself, burst into a roar
+of laughter. He clapped his hands on his knees and fairly swayed with
+merriment. Master Freake looked at him with a sedate half-smile, and said,
+"How d'ye do, my lord?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very well, thankee!" cried his lordship gaily, too gaily. "Damme! It's
+the funniest thing that's happened since Noah came out of the Ark. Come
+here, spy! Mean to tell me this is a Jacobite?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the spy crept near, Master Freake stood up, wheeled round on him
+smartly, and said, "How d'ye do, Turnditch?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stap me!" cried his lordship. "His name's Weir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He will know me better if I call him Turnditch," said Master Freake icily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke unmistakable truth. I could see the shadow of the gallows fall
+across the man's face. What stiffening there was in him oozed out, and he
+stood there wriggling in an agony of apprehension, like a worm in a
+chicken's beak. Master Freake knew him to the bottom of his muddy soul. My
+Lord Tiverton was a man of another mould, but he too was in the hands of
+his master. Plain John Freake, citizen of London, had taken a hand in this
+game of fate, and had thrown double six.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This noble room had seen the agonizings and rejoicings of a dozen
+generations of the sons of men, but nothing to surpass this scene in
+living interest. They come back to me now--the line of blue-and-white
+troopers, still with levelled carbines; the stolid Welshman, as
+indifferent as Snowdon; the dapper nobleman, still polished and lightsome,
+no longer play-acting but rather vaguely anxious; the high-minded troubled
+Jacobite, fear for his wife and babe gnawing at his heart; the spy, Weir
+or Turnditch, with the noose he had made for another drawn round his own
+neck; Master John Freake, the quiet, Quakerlike merchant, whose power was
+rooted deep in those far haunts of the world's trade, so that we were here
+shadowed and protected by the uttermost branches thereof. Last of all I
+remember myself, with my heart thrumming good-morrow to Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come now, Houndsditch, or Turndish, or whatever it is," said his
+lordship. "Precisely what have you to say?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The poor devil had nothing to say. He was aflame to be off and out of
+Master Freake's eyesight. He choked up something about mistakes, and zeal,
+and forgiveness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's enough! Out you go, the whole damn lot of you!" cried my lord.
+These not being familiar military words of command, the men stuck there
+like skittles. "Ground arms, or whatever it is!" he continued. "About
+turn! Quick march!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their sergeant took charge of them and they filed out. Sir James followed
+them and became their host, routing out servants to wait on them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as the door was closed on Sir James, his lordship hastened to
+Master Freake's side, and entered into low and earnest conversation with
+him. I walked across to the folios, hoping to find amongst them an
+<i>editio princeps</i> of Virgil, but was recalled by a loud "Oliver" from
+Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver," he said, when I reached his chair, "I should like you to know
+the most noble the Marquess of Tiverton!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bowed, and his lordship bowed in reply, and said light and pleasant
+things about our meeting. Then, vowing he was monstrous hungry, he tackled
+the venison pasty, summoning me to sit opposite him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gadso! I am sharp-set," he said, and indeed he ate with the zeal of a
+plough-lad. He pushed me over his snuff-box, which nearly made me sneeze
+before I took the snuff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It really is a masterpiece," he said, in a pause between pasty and pie.
+"I shall never hear the last of it at the 'Cocoa Tree' and White's. Stap
+me, I shan't want to! It's too good. The tale will keep my memory green
+when that old mummy, Newcastle, is dust at last."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What tale?" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"D'ye know why, a month ago, I badgered Newcastle into getting me a
+company in the Blues?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not the faintest idea!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He leaned across the table and, from under cover of me, nodded towards
+Master Freake, now talking with the Welsh-man. "To get out of his way!" he
+whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked incredulous, whereupon his lordship tapped his pocket
+significantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's a damned good fellow. He gave me another six months without a
+murmur. Wish I'd known! There'd have been no campaigning for me. I prefer
+the Mall!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So he said now, yet he was as steady as a wall and as bold as a lion at
+Culloden. He came of a great stock, and greatness was natural to him. The
+play-acting and gaming was only the fringe that Society had tacked on to
+him. It lessoned me finely to see him when Sir James came back into the
+room. Tiverton knew the position by instinct.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir James," he said, "I crave a word with you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At your service, my lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will be frank," continued his lordship. "I ask no questions. I make no
+inferences. I simply point out that the spy fell to pieces because he
+found Mr. Freake here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I observed so much, my lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know why," said the Marquess dubiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I could hang him at the next assizes," interrupted Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I see. He doesn't want to be hanged, of course. No one does. It's a
+perfectly natural feeling. So he crumpled up at the prospect."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my lord," said Sir James.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I allowed him to crumple up, and I took full advantage of the fact. You
+saw so much?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Sir James, you, as a Blount, that is, as a man bearing an honoured
+name, are under the strictest obligation to me to see that I can say, if
+my conduct is challenged, that I saw nothing here because there was
+nothing to see. I have put myself absolutely in your power, Sir James.
+Whoever else joins the Prince, you must not, or you take my head along
+with you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+
+It was well and truly said, and there was no posing about it. Sir James
+Blount's problem was settled. He taught me something too, for all he did
+was to put out his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's an end of Tundish!" said Tiverton, grasping it firmly. "And it's
+the best end too, for the Highland army hasn't a snowball's chance in
+hell."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned at once to banter me on my indifference to art, seeing that I
+had sniffed at a miniature by one of the most famous artists at the French
+Court. I let him rattle on, for my eye was on Sir James, who was rolling
+something in his hands. A moment later the Prince's letter went up in a
+tongue of flame and burnt along with it the Jacobitism of the Blounts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A knock at the door interrupted his lordship's valuation of art and
+artists of the French school, and his sergeant entered to say that his men
+were in the saddle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Campaigning be damned!" said his captain wearily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Beg pardon, my lord," added the sergeant, "but Mr. What's-his-name has
+cut off."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good riddance. He's gone back to his crony at the 'Black Swan.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my lord. T'other's a sergeant in my Lord Brocton's dragoons."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ah, I saw they were hob-and-nob together. A fellow with a ditch in his
+face you could lay a finger in!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fortunately for me, the Marquess was busy with a last glass of wine. Here
+was ill news with a vengeance. I had got out of the smoke into the smother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," said Master Freake, "there is a man of mine, one Dot Gibson,
+at the 'Black Swan,' and I shall be greatly beholden to you if you will
+let your sergeant carry him a note of instructions from me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stap me! I'll take it myself," cried his lordship heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake went to a table to write the note. I knew now who it was
+that had given me the warning. My lord pocketed the note and we all crept
+quietly down to the main door to see him off. The guards made a gallant
+show in the brilliant moonlight, and Master Freake, taking my arm, dragged
+me out to watch them canter across the stretch of meadow, and drop out of
+sight down the hill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sleep in peace, Oliver," he said. "Dot Gibson will give us early news of
+the movements of the enemy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then we strolled back, talking of the Colonel and Margaret.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT CAME OF FOPPERY</h3>
+
+<p>
+It was eight by the clock next morning before I set about my third
+commission. To begin with, the bed pulled, and small wonder, since I had
+not slept in a bed since leaving home. Then I took my fill of the books,
+finding among them no less a prize than the <i>editio princeps</i> of
+Virgil, printed at Rome in 1469, which it was hard to let go. Next there
+was Baby Blount to be waited upon, and his mother, a pretty, appealing
+lady, with the glory of motherhood about her like a fairy garment. Part of
+the ceremonial was the putting of Master Blount into my arms, which was
+done very gingerly, with abundant cautions and precautions against my
+crushing or dropping him. He had a skin like white satin and a silvery
+down on his charming little head. Altogether I thought him a most
+desirable possession for a man to have, and wished he was mine,
+particularly when, to his father's outspoken chagrin, instead of puling he
+stared steadily at me with big blue eyes and smiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Precious ikkle ducksy-wucksy," said his mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ugly ikkle monkey-wonkey," cried his father. "Why the deuce can't he
+smile at me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try him!" said I, handing him over to Sir James, glad to be free of the
+responsibility.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Baby Blount looked at his father and smiled again, and it was a
+revelation to me of the deepest and finest feelings of a man's heart to
+see how ravished Sir James was with this first smile of his baby boy's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's you that's changed, James, not our little darling," said his wife.
+"He'll always smile at a face as happy as yours is this morning."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lingered through these delightful moments over an old book and a new
+baby with an easy conscience, for Master Freake had brought me news which
+made my third task much easier. I had not told him what I had in hand to
+do, thinking it unfair to force the knowledge on him, but he must have
+made a good guess at it, for he came to tell me that the latest news from
+Stone was that the Duke was moving south again at top speed, with the
+intention of getting between the Prince and London if he could. He told me
+further that Charles had joined Murray at Ashbourne in the small hours,
+and that their reunited forces had started out for Derby. In all these
+important matters he was, as is obvious enough now, fully and exactly
+informed, and I expressed my admiration of his thoroughness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Business, my dear Oliver, nothing but business. Some great man of old
+time has said 'Knowledge is power.' I'm expanding that a little to fit
+these modern days. That's all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How does the maxim run now, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Knowledge is money and money is power," said he, with a dry smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as to matters small in themselves but of more immediate concern to
+me, he told me that his man, Dot Gibson, had reported that the spy, Weir,
+had at an early hour ridden off towards Stafford, while the sergeant of
+dragoons was still lurking at the "Black Swan." There had been long
+consultations between them as if they were acting in concert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was likely to be the case. It was a noteworthy fact that the spy had
+seen me, and had had an opportunity of denouncing me, before Master Freake
+had bowled him over. There was, therefore, reason to suppose that he would
+in any case have remained silent about me--the one man against whom his
+evidence was overwhelming. The sergeant of dragoons would, of course, be
+only too glad to see me out of action, dead for choice, but in jail as a
+useful alternative, yet the opportunity of putting me there had been let
+slip. I could not, try how I would, work out any reasonable explanation of
+their conduct.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bade good-bye to the Grange, going off with a pressing invitation in my
+ears to return as soon as possible. Master Freake walked at my saddle till
+we were out of earshot of the group in the open doorway.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We meet again at Derby, Oliver," he said, holding out his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's good news, sir. I shall be there by six o'clock to-night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Keep a good look out for the sergeant. He and his precious master mean
+to have you if they can. They've a heavy score against you, lad."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will be heavier before the account's settled, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You shall have your tilt at 'em, Oliver. You'll enjoy it, and I've no
+fear as to the result. But take care! Ride in the middle of the road, and
+keep your eye on every bush. Brocton has half a regiment of thorough-paced
+blackguards at his service and will compass hell itself to fetch you down.
+What about money?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've plenty and to spare," I answered, "thanks to your generous loan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No loan, lad, but my first contribution to the expenses of--what shall
+we say for safety? Your tour. How will that do?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, sir--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yea. Oliver, and no more said. My favourite rate is ten per cent. You've
+let me off with a paltry two."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not like joking in money matters, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"John Freake joking in money matters?" said he, smiling. "Tell it not
+when you get to town, Oliver, or you'll be the ruin of a hard-won
+reputation. I sent you sixty guineas odd."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Which is, to be precise, slightly less than two per cent of what you
+saved me when you snatched me out of the dirty grip of Brocton's rascals.
+I had a good thick slice of his lordship's patrimony in my pocket. Off you
+go, lad! Sultan is impatient at my trifling. So ho! You beauty! Good-bye!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, sir!" I cried heartily, swinging my new hat in a grand bow.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+At three o'clock in the afternoon, having ridden hard and far without
+bite or sup, I came out in a little hamlet huddled about the great London
+road where it ran along the hem of a forest, and drew rein before the
+"Seven Stars." I was to be in presence with my report at six o'clock, and,
+as Derby was only fifteen miles off and the road one of the best, there
+was ample time for Sultan and me to take the rest and refreshment we both
+stood in need of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was, too, in need of quiet and leisure to get my report straightened
+out in my mind ready for delivery. The largeness and looseness of my
+commission left everything to my discretion, with the vexatious result
+that I had discovered nothing. I had, indeed, carried out my orders. I had
+been so far west of Derby that I had seen the famous spires of Lichfield
+cutting into the sky like three lance-heads, and had learned on abundant
+and trustworthy evidence that the Duke's forces there were leaving for the
+south, under orders to march with all speed to their original camp at
+Merriden Heath. This squared exactly with Master Freake's news, and was
+all the stock of positive information I had got together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the kind of news the Prince would best like to hear there was none. Of
+preparations to join him, none. Of open well-wishers to his cause, none.
+The time when the Stuart banner could rally a host around it had gone
+beyond recall. There was no violent feeling the other way. People simply
+did not care. The old watchwords were powerless. The old quarrel had been
+revived in a world that had forgotten it, and would not be reminded of it.
+It was Charles and his Highlanders against George and his regiments, and
+as the latter were sure to win, nobody bothered. It is the strange but
+exact truth that the only sign I discovered of the great event in
+progress, was to come across a group of four respectable men of the middle
+station in life bargaining with an innkeeper for the hire of a chaise, in
+which they meant to drive to watch the Highlanders march by. They were
+very keen to bate him a shilling, and as indifferent as four oysters to
+the issues at stake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Riding into the inn-yard, I shouted to the host to get me his best
+dinner, and, while it was preparing, I overlooked the grooming and baiting
+of Sultan. I left him comfortable and content, and strolled indoors to
+look after my own needs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though on the London road, and only fifteen miles from the scene of
+action, the inn was quiet. I learned from the host that a courier had
+galloped through an hour before, spurring southwards, and cried out from
+the saddle that the bare-legs were only five miles from Derby when he
+left. Earlier in the day a cart had driven through loaded up with the
+gowns of the town dignitaries, "going to Leicester to be done up,"
+explained the host, delighted with his own shrewdness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A hunger-bitten traveller with a good dinner in front of him commonly
+pays no attention for the time being to anything else. I found two men in
+the guest-room, and, after a civil greeting, which made one of them open
+his eyes and mouth very uncivilly, I sat down to eat, very content with
+the fare set before me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As my hunger steadily abated before a steady attack on a cold roast
+sirloin of most commendable quality, I began to take more interest in the
+two men. In fact, more interest in them was forced on me by the beginnings
+of a pretty quarrel between them, and by the time I had got to the cheese,
+they, utterly regardless of my presence, were at it hammer and tongs. The
+row was about a horse-deal lately passed between them, and there are few
+things men can quarrel about more easily or more vigorously. The yokel who
+had gaped at me, had been cheated by his companion, and was accordingly
+resentful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two men more at odds in outward appearance could not easily have been
+found. The gaper was plain country, a big, bulky man, with a paunch that,
+as he sat, sagged nearly to his knees, a triple chin, and a nose with a
+knobly end, in shape and colour like an overripe strawberry. His companion
+was a little fellow, lean and sharp-cut, with a head like a ferret's. We
+country-siders know your Londoner. Many an hour I had sat under the clump
+of elms at the lane-end and watched the travellers. Hence, doubtless, my
+taste in fashionable head-gear, like this of mine, lately belonging to
+Swift Nicks, now disposed carefully on the table at my side. I would have
+wagered it against Joe Braggs' frowsy old milking-cap that the little man
+was a Londoner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little as he was, his cold, calculating anger overbore his antagonist,
+who was no great hand at stating his case, good as it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The landlord knows me and knows the gelding," said the little man. "You
+know less about horses than a Mile End tapster. Fetch him in, and let him
+decide. I suppose you rode him!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a God's name, d'ye think I bought him for, Mr. Wicks? To look at?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By the look of you I should think you bought him as a present for a
+baby. Sixteen stone six if you're an ounce, and riding a two-year-old!
+Damme, no wonder he throws out curbs! Fetch the landlord, I tell ye!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Out burst the fat man in a great fury, and in a minute or two came back
+with the landlord and an ostler. Then the wrangle became hotter and more
+amusing than ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Finally, the little man, losing all patience, drew a pistol, whereon the
+big man ran backwards, shrieking "Murder!" Not heeding where he was going,
+he tumbled up against my table, and jammed it hard against my midriff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I attempted to rise but was too late. The fat man seized my wrists, the
+landlord and the ostler ran round, and pinned me to the chair, and the
+little man held the barrel of the pistol to my forehead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good afternoon, Mr. Swift Nicks!" said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I dare say my liver was turning the colour of chalk, but, though I'm too
+easily frightened, I'm always too proud to show it, which has unjustly got
+me the character of being a brave man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good afternoon, Mr. Too-swift Wicks!" I retorted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What d'ye mean?" he asked, plainly disconcerted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I mean," said I, "that the zeal of your office hath eaten you up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What the hell does he mean?" he asked, appealing to the company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn my bones if I know," answered the host. "I've 'eerd parson say
+sommat like it in church a Sundays. He's one of these 'ere silly
+scholards."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They do say as how Swift Nicks is a scholard," put in the ostler wisely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's no time for chattering," said I. "Take me at once before a
+justice. That's the law, and you know it. I warn you that any delay will
+be dangerous. My cocksure friend here is already in for actions for
+assault, battery, slander, false imprisonment, and the Lord knows what. My
+gad, sir, I'll give you a roasting at the assizes. Take me off at once to
+the nearest magistrate. I'll have the law on you before another hour's
+out."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My energy flustered the Londoner, who had sense enough to know the peril
+of his being wrong, but the fat man, dull as an ox, cheered him on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's Swift Nicks right enough, Master Wicks," he said. "Pocket full of
+pistols, four on 'em; a chap of the right size, a matter of six feet odd;
+hereabouts, where he is known to be; speaks like a gentleman; and, damme,
+I saw Swift Nicks myself with my own eyes not two yards off, and that's
+Swift Nicks' hat or I'm a Dutchman; I know'd it again the minute he walked
+into the room."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn the hat!" cried I heartily enough, but feeling very crestfallen at
+this telling piece of evidence against me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little man snatched it up and looked carefully at the inside of it, a
+thing I had never done, being wrapped up in its outside.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There y'are!" he cried triumphantly. "'S. N. His hat.' What more d'ye
+want?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want the nearest magistrate," cried I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Mr. Wicks," said the fat man, "he can easily have what he wants.
+It's only a matter o' two mile to the Squire's."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Squire'll welly go off 'is yed," remarked the host. "He's that sot on
+seeing Swift Nicks swing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then he'll very likely go bail for Mr. Wicks," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will he?" said Mr. Wicks sourly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If he don't," I retorted, "you'll spend the night in Leicester jail."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They do say as 'ow Swift Nicks is a rare plucked 'un," said the ostler.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then they're liars," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was handcuffed and put on Sultan, with my feet roped together under his
+belly. Then we started off, and the whole village, which had dozed in
+peace with the Highlanders only five hours off, turned out gaily and
+joyously to see Swift Nicks. The landlord left his guests, and the ostler
+his horses, to go with us, and at least a score of villagers, mostly
+women, joined in and made a regular pomp of it. Once or twice we met a man
+who cried, "What's up?" and at the response, "Swift Nicks," he added
+himself to the procession and was regaled, as he trudged along, with an
+account of the affray at the inn. My capture was exceedingly popular, and
+they gloated to my face over the doom in store for me, wrangling like
+rooks as to the likeliest spot for my gibbet. The majority fixed it at the
+Copt Oak, where, as they reminded me with shrill curses, I had murdered
+poor old Bet o' th' Brew'us for a shilling and sixpence. It was a relief
+to hear the host shout to Master Wicks, "Yon's th' Squire's!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We trooped up to a fair stone house of ancient date with a turret at the
+tip of each wing. My luck was clean out. The Squire was not yet back home
+from hunting, for he went out with the hounds every day the scent would
+lie. He had ridden far, or was belated, or his horse had foundered, and
+there was no telling, said his ruddy old butler, when he would be back. So
+the villagers were driven off like cattle, Sultan was stabled, and we five
+were accommodated in the great hall, for the host and the ostler stayed on
+the ground that so dangerous a villain as Swift Nicks wanted a strong
+guard. They put me under the great chimney and sat round me, in a half
+circle, each man with a loaded pistol in one hand and a jug of ale in the
+other. The Squire's lady came in and stood afar off examining me, and I
+saw that she was in deadly fear of me, handcuffed and guarded as I was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Over an hour crawled by, taking with it my last chance of getting into
+Derby, with my task accomplished, by six o'clock. What would Margaret
+think of me? Her obvious pride in the honour the Prince had conferred upon
+me by selecting me as his personal helper, had been a great delight to me,
+and now I had failed him and disquieted her. The thought made me rage, and
+I gave my captors black looks worthy of any tobie-man on the King's
+highway.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last relief came in the shape of the Squire's youngest son, a stout
+lad of some twelve years old, who raced in, rod in hand, and made up to me
+without a trace of fear. He was in trouble about his rod, having snapped
+the top joint in unhandily dealing with a fine chub. After some wrangling,
+I got my hands freed, and set about splicing the joint.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They do say," said I mockingly, "as how Swift Nicks is a good hand at
+splicing fishing-rods."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never 'eerd tell of that'n," said the stolid ostler.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you really Swift Nicks, sir?" asked the lad, looking steadily at me
+with frank, innocent eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No more than you are Jonathan Wild or Prester John, my son," I answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then who are you?" he persisted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm a poor splicer of fishing-rods. I get my living by riding about the
+country on a fine horse, with one pair of pistols in my holsters and
+another pair in my pocket, looking for nice little boys with broken
+fishing-rods, and mending 'em--the rods, not the boys--so that father
+never finds it out and the rod's better than ever it was. How big was the
+chub?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That big!" said he, holding his hands about two feet apart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The great advantage, my son, of having your rod mended by me is that
+ever afterwards you'll be able to tell a chub from a whale."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said he proudly, "a Chartley never lies."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course," said I, "it's hard to say exactly how big a fish is when
+you've missed him. So your name's Chartley. Is this Chartley Towers?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is," said he, with a taking boyish pride ringing in his voice. "We
+are the Chartleys of Chartley Towers. We go back to Edward the Third."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Did ever man enjoy such fat luck as mine? I had been as hard beset as a
+nut in the nutcrackers. To prove that I was not Swift Nicks I should have
+to prove that I was Oliver Wheatman. The Bow Street runner would see to
+that, for, as Swift Nicks, I was worth fifty guineas to him, a sum of
+money for which he would have hanged half the parish without a twinge.
+Cross or pile, I should lose the toss. Drive away the cart! Such had been
+my thoughts, and now a lad's young pride had snatched me out of danger. I
+grew quite merry over the splicing, and told young Chartley all about my
+fight with the great jack.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The job was near on finished when there was a rattle of hoofs without,
+and, a minute later, the door was flung open and in swept a torrent of
+yapping foxhounds, followed by a big, hearty, noisy man in jack-boots and
+a brown scratch bob-wig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dinner! Dinner!" he shouted to his wife, who came in to meet him. "The
+best run o' the year, lass! Thirty miles before he earthed, the dogs
+running breast-high every yard of it, and the very devil of a dig-out!
+There was only me and parson and young Bob Eld o' Seighford in at the
+death. Dinner, dinner, my lass! I could eat the side of a house. Hallo,
+damme! What art doing here, Jack Grattidge?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The question was put to the host, who was shuffling down the hall to meet
+him. The Squire slashed the dogs silent with his half-hunter to catch the
+reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Please, y'r honour," said the host, "we've copped Swift Nicks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By G--! You a'nt!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We 'an," declared the host.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hurrah!" roared the Squire. "That's news! I owe you a guinea for it,
+Jack."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He clumped up to the hearth, crying out as he came, "Show me the black,
+bloody scoundrel! I'd crawl to London on my hands and knees to watch him
+turned off."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seeing me engaged in the innocent task of mending his lad's fishing-rod,
+with the lad himself at my knees intent on the work, he took Mr. Wicks for
+the highwayman, and cursed and swore at him hard enough to rive an
+oak-tree. He was, indeed, so hot and heady that it was some minutes before
+his mistake could be brought home to him. By the time he realized that the
+man mending the rod was Swift Nicks, he had fired off all his powder, and
+only stared at me with wide-open eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I suppose," said I, very politely, "that, as you've been hunting, the
+chestnut is still on the hob."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm damned!" says he, and flops down into his elbow-chair.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+In the end we made a treaty, to Mr. Wicks' great disgust, who saw the
+guineas slipping through his fingers. Nor was the Squire less aggrieved at
+first, for clearly it was to him a matter of high concern to nail Swift
+Nicks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What's it matter to us here who's got a crown on his head in London?" he
+said. "London-folk care nothing for us, and we care nothing for them. But
+Swift Nicks does matter. We want him hung. No man about here with any
+sense bothers about your politics except at election-times, when politics
+means a belly full of beer and a fist full of guineas for every damned
+tinker and tallow-chandler in Leicester. But you, or that bloody villain
+Swift Nicks, if you a'nt him, keep us sweating-cold o' nights. To hell
+with your politics! Hang me Swift Nicks!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The terms of our treaty were that I was to remain peaceably and make a
+night of it, giving my word to make no attempt to escape or harm anyone.
+In the meantime, and at my proper charges, a post was to be sent to fetch
+Nance Lousely and her father to give evidence on my behalf.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"DEAR GHOSTIE,"--I wrote to her,--"I am in great danger because a
+red-nosed man vows I am Swift Nicks. I want you and your father to come
+and prove he's an ass. If you don't I am to be hung on a gibbet at a place
+called the Copt Oak, and I can't abide gibbets, for they are cold and
+draughty. So come at once, my brave Nance!--Your friend,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O. W."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A groom was fetched and I told him how to get to Job Lousely's. He was
+well mounted from the Squire's stables and set off. However quickly he did
+his business, it would be many hours before he could be back. So I settled
+down to make a night of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was nothing original in the Squire's way of making a night of it.
+The parson who had been in at the death and who, during the settlement of
+my affair, had been busy in the stables, now joined us at dinner. He was
+but lately come from Cambridge, at which seat of learning the chief books
+appeared to be Bracken's <i>Farriery</i> and Gibson on the <i>Diseases of
+Horses</i>, with Hoyle's <i>Whist</i> as lighter reading for leisured
+hours. He was a hard rider, a hard swearer, and a hard drinker, and, after
+being double japanned, as he called it, by a friendly bishop, had been
+pitchforked by the Squire into a neighbouring parish of three hundred a
+year in order that the Squire's dogs and hounds, and the game and poachers
+on the estate, might have the benefit of his ministrations. He had,
+however, sense enough to buy good sermons. "At any rate the women tell me
+they're good," explained the Squire. "I can't say for myself, for Joe's a
+reasonable cock, and always shuts up as soon as I wake up."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Bow Street runner, Mr. Wicks, and the red-nosed petty constable of
+the hundred, who answered to the name of Pinkie Yates, were of the party.
+I ate little and drank less, but the others emptied the bottles at a
+great pace and were soon hot with drink. One brew, which the huntsmen
+quaffed with much zest, I insisted, out of regard for my stomach, on
+passing round untouched, though the men of law took their share like
+heroes, and, I doubt not, thought they were for once hob-nobbing with the
+gods. The manner of it was thus. The parson drew from his pocket a leg of
+the fox they had killed that day, and, stinking, filthy, and bloody as it
+was, squeezed and stirred it in a four-handled tyg of claret. In this evil
+compound the Squire solemnly gave us the huntsman's toast:
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ "<i>Horses sound. Dogs hearty,<br>
+ Earth's stopped, and Foxes plenty</i>."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The parson then hiccoughed a song for which he should have been put in
+the stocks, after which Mr. Wicks, with three empty bottles and three
+knives to stand for the gallows, gave us a vivid account of the
+turning-off of the famous Captain Suck Ensor, who kicked and twitched for
+ten minutes before his own claimed him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was five o'clock next morning before my courier returned with Nance
+Lousely and her father. I had gone to sleep in the Squire's elbow-chair
+before the hall fire, with the zealous thief-takers in attendance, turn
+and turn about, as sentries over me, fifty guineas being well worth
+guarding. The butler watched at the door, wakefully anxious to earn the
+crown I had promised him. The noise he made in unchaining and unbolting
+the door awakened me, and it warmed my heart to see Nance standing timidly
+just inside the hall, her hand in her father's, till she spied me, when
+she broke away and ran up to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You knew I'd come, sir, didn't you?" she said, appealing to me more with
+her pretty anxious face than by her words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course, ghostie!" I replied promptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, sir!" she said, with evident relief. At a trace of doubt in
+my words or face, she would have broken down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't be a goose, ghostie," said I. "Sit down and get warm! And how are
+you. Job? Much obliged to you both."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We'n ridden main hard to get here, sir. Your mon didna get t'our 'ouse
+afore one o'clock, an' we wor on the way afore ha'f-past. Gom! We wor
+that'n. Our Nance nearly bust. Gom, she did that'n."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your Nance is a darling," said I, stroking her disordered hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At my request backed by a promise to turn the crown into half a guinea,
+the butler got them some breakfast. Fortunately the Squire and the parson
+were due at a duck-shooting ten miles off by seven o'clock, and so were
+stirring early. My matter was soon settled. The Squire sat magisterially
+in his elbow-chair, and Nance and her father told their tale, precisely as
+I had told it before them. It cleared me and made the thief-catchers look
+mightily confused and sheepish, and very relieved they were when, as a
+politic way of staving off awkward questions, I grandly accepted their
+apologies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew you weren't Swift Nicks," said the Squire, "when I saw you
+mending my lad's fishing-rod. Damme, we'll get him though, before we've
+done."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He invited me to join him at breakfast, where we were alone for the first
+time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it into the fire or into the fender?" he asked meaningly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was ready for him and, stopping with the carving knife half-way through
+a fine ham I was slicing, said, as if amazed, "Is what into the fire or
+into the fender?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The chestnut," said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The chestnut!" I retorted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, well! I don't blame you for your caution, sir. Sir James Blount
+sounded me and I know you know my reply. Whether fire or fender will make
+no difference to me, and I wouldn't miss to-day's duck-shoot to make it
+either."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope there'll be plenty of birds, and strong on the wing," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This ended all the talk that passed between us on the great event that
+had so strangely brought us together. He, the squire of half a dozen
+villages, went duck-shooting while the destiny of England was being
+settled just outside his own door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the second time Nance walked a space by my side to wish me good-bye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nance, my sweet lass," said I, pulling Sultan up, "do you know that
+dirty little ale-house near your home?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where the painted woman lives, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That very place! Now Swift Nicks is hiding there. Go back and tell the
+Squire you can find Swift Nicks for him, and they'll fill your pinner with
+guineas. You'll kiss me for a pinnerfull of guineas, won't you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, sir," said she very decidedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then kiss me, Nance, because, though we shall never meet again, we've
+helped one another when we did meet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She put her foot on mine, and I lifted her up in my arms and kissed her
+red young lips and tear-stained cheeks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Nance!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, sir. God bless you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At a bend in the road I turned to look at her again. She was standing
+there, looking after me, and waved her bonnet in farewell. I took off my
+hat and waved back, and then she was gone from sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She's a good girl is Nance," said I aloud, "and you, curse you, are the
+cause of all my troubles"--this to my new hat. My foppery had cost me
+dear. What would the Prince say to my failure? What would Margaret say?
+There would once more be questionings in her eyes, and the shadow of doubt
+on her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Curse you!" I said again to the hat, and then, with a swift, strong
+sweep of my arm, sent it spinning into a brook.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sultan showed his points. He did ten miles in fifty minutes by my watch,
+accurate timing and counting from one milestone to another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last the broad Trent came in sight and I rattled over Swarkston
+bridge, only to be pulled up on the other side by a strong post of
+Highlanders. My luck still held, however, for Donald was amongst them,
+and, on his explaining who I was, the chief in command let me pass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald trotted by my side for half a mile to give me all the news. The
+Prince had lain all night at Derby in the Earl of Exeter's house. There
+had been many rumours and wranglings among the chiefs at night, a council
+of war was fixed for this morning, and no one knew what it was all about.
+There had been great doings overnight in the town, and he, Donald, had
+stood guard at the Prince's lodging.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She dinged 'em a', as I tell't ye she would," he said. "Losh, man, it
+was a grand sight to see her an' the bonny Maclachlan gliding ower ta
+flure in ta dancin'. They were like twa gowden eagles gliding in the air
+ower a ben wi' ta sun shinin' on it. Losh, man, I tell it ye, they're a
+bonny, bonny pair. Got pless 'em."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good-bye, Donald! I'll push on. Damn Swift Nicks!" I cried, and gave
+Sultan such a dig in the flanks that he shot ahead like an arrow from a
+bow. I was sorry immediately, but it was more than I could stand.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE COUNCIL AT DERBY</h3>
+
+<p>
+It was a relief to get into the chock-full streets of the town, where
+thinking was impossible and good round cursing indispensable. Even with
+its aid in clearing a course for him, Sultan tumbled over a brace of
+Highlanders, two of a swarm of Maclachlans and Macdonalds who were
+disputing possession of a cutler's shop on the corner of Bag Street. After
+their native fashion, they immediately suspended their quarrel to unite
+against a common foe, but on a Maclachlan recognizing me as a friend, went
+at one another again with infinite zest, and I saw them hard at it as I
+turned into the market-square.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our meagre collection of cannon had been packed here with their
+appendancies, and I was threading my way through them to the far side of
+the square, where stands Exeter House, and was within a flick of a pebble
+of it, when the Colonel ran out, bareheaded and eager, and came up to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You young dog! What's happened?" said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've lost my hat, sir," I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lost your--Damme! I'll have you court-martialled yet before I've done
+with you. Off you come! Hello, my precious. Hitch him to the tail of yon
+wagon and come along. The Prince saw you from the window. Steady, my
+beauty! Come along, Noll! Fancy a town the size of this and not a damned
+pinch of Strasburg in it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I hurried after him through the hall and up the stairs. Something big was
+in hand beyond a doubt, for hall and stairs were thronged with groups of
+Highland leaders, and in one set, somewhat apart, I saw Murray and
+Ogilvie. The Colonel took no notice of the curious looks that were cast
+upon us, particularly me, but, after a word with the chief on duty,
+ushered me unceremoniously into the presence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles was taking short turns up and down near the hearth, but stopped
+as I bowed before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You've failed me!" he said bitterly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have carried out your Royal Highness's commands exactly, though, to my
+deep regret, not punctually, but every hour I am late has been spent under
+arrest. In riding on your business, sir, I have ridden up to the foot of
+the gallows."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke quietly but crisply, for I would not be girded at unjustly, no,
+not by a prince. He took my meaning, and answered generously, "As I knew
+you would, Master Wheatman, if need were."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The noble panelled room in which we were was set out with a long table
+and many chairs. At the head of the table a mean-looking man was busily
+writing. At the window two other men stood in earnest conversation, and
+these, as I learned later, were the Irishmen, Sir Thomas Sheridan and
+Colonel O'Sullivan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Leave your dispatch, Mr. Secretary, and come hither. And you, too,
+gentlemen!" said Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So, with the Prince sitting near the fire and the four leaders ranged
+behind him, I stood and told my tale, cutting out all that was meaningless
+from their point of view. As I had expected, there was no mistaking its
+effect on him. I had indeed, come back empty-handed. Yet he pulled himself
+together and said lightly, "Well, gentlemen, if the men of the Midlands
+are not for me, they are certainly not against me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is a strong point in your favour, sir," said O'Sullivan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"When I've thrashed the Duke and got into London," said Charles, buoyed
+up at once by any straw of comfort, "they'll be round me like wasps round
+a honey-pot. I wasn't clear last night, but Master Wheatman has decided
+me. I ride into London in Highland dress."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I applaud the decision of Your Royal Highness," said the foxy secretary.
+"It is a merited compliment to your brave clansmen." He afterwards ratted
+and so helped to hang some of the best of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now for your dispatch to the Marquis," said Charles, going towards the
+secretary's papers. "There's time to look at it before Murray and his
+supports arrive." O'Sullivan walked softly to one of the windows
+overlooking the square, and we followed him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Faith, Colonel," said he. "The game's up if we go on."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is," said the Colonel, tapping at his box. "Damn this rappee, Oliver.
+I'd as lief sniff at sawdust."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But if the Prince wants to go on, I back him up," added O'Sullivan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So do I," said Sir Thomas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So do I," echoed the Colonel, "but, damme, I shall tell him the precise
+truth about the military aspect of the situation. One's my duty as a
+soldier just as much as the other. I haven't the least objection to dying,
+but be damned if I want my reputation to die with me. The most you can say
+of rappee, Oliver, is that it's better than nothing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's just what I've been thinking, sir," said I, with equal gravity,
+"about my old hat."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're keeping that story for Margaret, you young dog, but she's bound
+to tell me. I was out of bed till two o'clock this morning, listening to
+her clatter about getting married quick, and walls of Troy, and ham and
+eggs. She nearly prated the top of my head off, and did not kiss me
+good-night till I'd told her for the seventeenth time that there was no
+need to worry about you. Seventeen times"--a vigorous sniff and a merry
+twinkle--"I counted 'em."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was obvious nonsense, but it pained me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was very kind of her, sir," I said at last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Humph!" said he, and turned to talk with the Irishmen. I kept a sharp
+look out on the square below, hoping for a glimpse of Margaret, paying no
+heed to the earnest conversation buzzing in my ear. Princes and dominions,
+and marches and battles, were nothing to me as I stood there fighting for
+mastery over myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was pulled back from these slippery tracks of thought by the Colonel,
+who gripped my arm and whispered, "Here they come, Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked to the door and saw the chiefs filing into the room, led by
+Murray, with the greater ones immediately behind him and the others in due
+degree, till the room was fairly crowded. Charles continued his colloguing
+with Mr. Secretary while they disposed themselves according to their rank
+in council, though the Duke of Perth was pleased to take his stand on the
+hearth among some of the smaller sort. Sir Thomas Sheridan and Colonel
+O'Sullivan left us and seated themselves nearer the Prince, and when they
+had done so, and while there was still some noisy settling down to be
+done, I whispered to the Colonel, "Oughtn't I to go out now, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm for going on to London," said he, grinning at me with his eyes,
+though he kept the face of a wooden image. "And first thing we do, Oliver,
+we'll lead a desperate attack, you and I, on a tobacco-man's. Damme!
+There's wagon-loads of Strasburg in London!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Suppose I start off now, sir, and mark down one or two of the primest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Suppose you stay where you are, lad," he replied. "You're here by
+rights: first, because the Prince asked ye here and has not dismissed you,
+and you never leave the presence of royalty till royalty kicks you out;
+secondly"--pausing to take a pinch of rappee that would have lifted the
+roof of my head off--"because you can't have less sense than some of these
+chatterers. Council of war! Mob of parliament-men!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus it came about that, thanks to Swift Nicks, I was present at the
+great council which was to decide the fate of the Stuarts. I pushed behind
+the Colonel, so that I could now and again steal a peep for Margaret. Just
+at the last minute, with Charles lifting his eyes up to begin, the door
+opened again to admit Maclachlan, red with the haste he had been making.
+It made me grit my teeth to see him, for I knew why he was so hot. He had
+been fluttering around Margaret, and so had lost count of time. Then I
+stopped my gritting and started grinning. Much Margaret would think of a
+man who neglected his soldiering to dangle at her apron-strings!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His Royal Highness, after his usual habit, opened the Council by stating
+his own opinion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have called you together, gentlemen," he said, "to consider our next
+step. The question is: Shall we march west, cut the Duke's forces in two,
+and so beat him, or, shall we take advantage of the fact that we are
+nearer London than he is, press on, and take possession of the Capital? I
+am strongly for the second plan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damme, sir! Well put!" said the Colonel under his breath. And indeed it
+was so well put that the chiefs looked rather hopelessly at one another,
+for this was by no means the alternative that they had in mind. It was to
+them, as soon appeared, no choice between south and west that they had
+come to discuss, but the much more important choice between south and
+north. For a minute or two there was a muttering of Gaelic, which the
+Prince did not understand, at any rate, so far as the words were
+concerned. Then Lord George Murray rose, bowed profoundly to the Prince,
+and began the case for the chiefs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Duke of Cumberland," he said, "was that night at Stafford with an
+army of ten thousand foot and two thousand horse. Mr. Wade was coming by
+hard marches down the east road and could easily get between His Royal
+Highness's army and Scotland. They had authentic news that an army was
+being encamped on the north of London. If, then, they marched to London
+they would have two armies in their rear and one in front of them, and,
+high as he rated the valour and prowess of the army he had the honour,
+under His Royal Highness, of commanding, it was vain to suppose that they
+could defeat three armies each at least twice as numerous as they. None of
+the advantages on which they had relied when they agreed to enter England
+had been realized. They had received no accession of strength worth
+considering from the English Jacobites; the population were not friendly
+but at all times surly and neutral, and on all possible occasions openly
+hostile; the promised French invasion had not even been attempted.
+Scotland they had won for His Majesty and could and should keep it for
+him. To do this required them to return with all speed and with
+undiminished forces. On all these grounds he, and those for whom he spoke,
+implored His Royal Highness to return thither and consolidate his forces
+for a fresh attempt under more favourable conditions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His lordship had spoken calmly and with no outward sign of feeling except
+that, as he got toward the end of his speech and his drift became open and
+manifest, his voice gained more and more emphasis as he saw the
+undisguised impatience and growing anger of Charles. The Prince paid no
+courteous attention to the arguments of his chief military adviser, but
+shot eager glances round the ring of faces, and particularly at His Grace
+of Perth, who was visibly flattered by this mute appeal. The Colonel, who
+noted all this by-play, was nettled by the Prince's indifference to
+military authority, and whispered, "Well done, Geordie Murray! Right as a
+trivet!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The speech done, the Prince struck his clenched fist on the table and
+said, "I am for marching on London."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was plain, however, that the chiefs were against him almost to a man.
+Murray was clearly in the right, and his military skill and experience
+gave him great authority. As yet there was no open murmuring against the
+Prince; nothing but manifest determination not to be won over by his
+cajoleries or threats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why should we not go on?" demanded the Prince passionately. "Here we
+are, masters of the heart of England. A quick, bold stroke, and London is
+ours. The game is in our hands."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Game?" cried a rugged, headstrong chief, Macdonald of Glencoe. "The
+game's up, sir, thanks to these beer-swilling English friends of your
+house, who are Jacobites only round a cosy fire with mugs in their hands."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are only awaiting an earnest of victory," said Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Waiting for us to do the work," said Glencoe bitterly, "and then blithe
+they'll be to hansel the profits. We can gang back to Scotland as quick as
+we like when we've ance got London for 'em!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a growl of assent from the chiefs, but silence fell again when
+the venerable Tullibardine, too racked with gout to stand, took up the
+word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke as one who had grown old and weary and poor in the service of
+the exiled House. The conditions of success, he said, had always been the
+same: the Highland adherents of His Majesty could never hope to be more
+than the centre around which the real sources of strength, English support
+and French aid, might gather; and these had failed now as they had failed
+in '15. "I dare not," he concluded, "lift my voice to urge men to take
+risks which I am too feeble to share."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles put up a stout fight, but it was no use. Chief after chief had
+his say, and then said it again and again. Maclachlan shifted from his
+place near the door to the corner of the hearth and, after whispering a
+while with the Duke of Perth, confusedly gave his opinion in favour of
+going back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was no sort of a speaker, being ill at ease, and plainly occupied in
+rummaging about in his mind. Having wits, however, he stumbled on a new
+line of argument.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in.
+There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, and
+its moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising a
+great army for the spring."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefs
+was a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action.
+There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering and
+incapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant in
+dealing with a man by himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to his
+feet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He was
+almost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, jutting
+cheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like a
+rat-trap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If we
+dinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barely
+a dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' the
+name, will ride on my back for the rest of my days."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye're in the right of it, Strowan," said my Lord Ogilvie. "There's too
+few of us for this work, but a little peat will boil a little pot. Let us
+gang back and raddle the Glasgow bodies. Ye hae my advice, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here the Prince, to my mind, made a fatal mistake. He had begun by trying
+to carry matters merely by the weight of his royal authority. This was
+ever his plan in council, and as long as things went well it served, since
+the chiefs, looking forward as they then did to ultimate triumph, were not
+willing to risk his displeasure by standing out against him. Now that they
+were in a tight corner this cock would fight no longer, and he made
+matters worse by appealing to the Irishman, O'Sullivan, for his opinion.
+He briefly gave it in favour of going on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One tale will hold till another's told. O'Sullivan had a great reputation
+as a master of the irregular mode of fighting, which must be adopted by an
+army composed, like ours, of untrained men not equipped according to the
+rules and requirements of soldiership. But my Lord George Murray was ready
+for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Great as Colonel O'Sullivan's reputation is, sir," he said sweetly, "we
+have with us in Colonel Waynflete another soldier of great distinction.
+His views would be welcome, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed," said the Prince eagerly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"For myself, sir," said the Colonel, snuff-box open in hand, for he had
+been surprised with the rappee between his fingers, "I am ready to go on.
+I came to serve your Royal Highness, and I serve my commander as he
+chooses, not as I would choose myself. But when you ask me as to the
+military result of going on, I tell you frankly, as becomes a soldier of
+experience asked in Council to deliver his opinion, that it is idle to
+expect this present force to get to London. As you get nearer London, sir,
+the country becomes of a kind which your army could not successfully
+operate in. It would be confined to roads lined with hedges and passing
+through many defendable towns and villages. Your short, powerful charges
+would be out of the question. The English as a whole fight well, no men
+better; we can't rationally expect all of them to run off at a Highland
+yell, and with the country in their favour and London behind them, a
+source of constant fresh supplies to them, we should be wiped out in
+detail. Your Royal Highness wishes to go on, and therefore I am willing to
+go on, but your Royal Highness cannot capture London with the force at
+your disposal."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He finished and took his snuff with zest, seeing that it was still
+rappee, and handed me the box with great composure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In all they talked and wrangled for three hours, and I got very tired of
+it all and spent my time looking through the window for Margaret. There
+would be no profit in setting down more of what was said. Indeed, no fresh
+point was raised until the Prince argued vehemently in favour of turning
+off for Wales, where his adherents were supposed to be very strong.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This produced a fresh crop of speeches, all on one note--the necessity of
+starting back for Scotland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Duke of Perth had been silent so far. He had stood on the hearth,
+near the fire, the warmth of which he stood greatly in need of, being
+slight and weakly. He had turned his eyes from one speaker to another as
+the debate went on, and had gently rubbed the back of his head against the
+panelling, as if to stimulate thought. The speech of Colonel Waynflete
+plainly had a great effect on him, and I could see that he was making up
+his mind, for he continued the gentle rubbing of his head but took no note
+of the wrangling and jangling about the Welsh project. The storm lulled,
+for it had blown itself out. Everything sayable had been said times out of
+number.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am for marching back at once," he declared in a loud voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was heartily sorry for the Prince. In his mind's eye he had seen
+himself in the palace of his fathers with a nation repentant at his feet.
+He did not know England,--no Stuart ever did,--or he would have known that
+the wave of chivalry that had carried him so far was bound to spend itself
+on the indifferent English as a wave spends itself on the indifferent
+sands. Yet it was hard to go back, hard to know that he had done so much
+more than his grandfather in '89 or his father in '15, and done it in
+vain. His standard was proudly flaunting in the heart of England over the
+grave of his cause.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he died well. "Rather than go back," he cried, "I would wish to be
+twenty feet under ground!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Council.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I am
+aide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the "Bald-Faced
+Stag" in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should find
+Margaret there, and Mr. Freake."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr. Secretary, moved
+thereto by the Prince, sidled up to me, his sly eyes overrunning the
+outgoing chiefs as he came. He laid his hand on my arm, which gave me the
+creeps, and said, "His Royal Highness would speak with you, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sidled back again with me behind him, wondering how far one fair kick
+would lift him. I stood stiff and awkward before the Prince, who, however,
+addressed the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your speech was a shrewd blow to me, Colonel. Nay, don't protest! You
+did a soldier's duty by me in Council as you will do it in battle. I ask
+no more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I shall do no less, sir," said the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, give me a pinch of snuff, and I'll ask your advice on another
+military point."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the straight way to the Colonel's heart, taking snuff and
+talking soldiership being to him the twin boons of life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles took his rappee thoughtfully and then said, "What is the best way
+of dealing with a solid body of the enemy with inferior forces?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Split 'em up and smash 'em in detail, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What d'ye say to that, Tom Sheridan?" asked Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied Sir
+Thomas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, with
+great good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning you
+used to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatman
+writhe to hear it. The only advantage I ever got out of being a Prince was
+that old Tom here never dared thrash me for gulping up his rubbish."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Wheatman knows Latin enough to stock a couple of bishops, sir,"
+said the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The devil he does!" said Charles admiringly. "He'll come in handy for
+writing me a letter to His Holiness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's not such bad stuff as all that, sir," said I, glad of a chance of
+saying something, for I had been hurt to the quick by talk that reminded
+me of how I had quizzed Jack's classics in Old Comfit's entry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To come back to the Colonel's advice," said Charles. "I've split 'em up
+and now I'm going to smash 'em in detail. We're not going back, sirs, if I
+can help it. Master Wheatman,"--and here he naturally and unaffectedly
+took on a princely tone--"we appoint you our assistant aide-de-camp, and
+desire your attendance on our person during the day, under the more
+immediate authority of our excellent friend, Colonel Waynflete."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At a sign from the Colonel, which I was lucky enough to see the meaning
+of, I dropped on my knee before the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, Master Wheatman," said Charles, in his ordinary frank way,
+when I rose. "You're worth a hundred rats like young Maclachlan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I coloured, partly with the praise and partly because I was wondering how
+many Smite-and-spare-nots I was worth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was then closely questioned about the lie of the land to the south of
+Stafford and Derby. After a long consultation, the Prince dismissed me,
+with a gracious invitation to be one of the Royal party at dinner,
+promising me, with a sly smile, that the company should be to my liking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel and I withdrew. In the corridor he put me in charge of an
+upper servant of the household, and went to see to Sultan.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My new acquaintance was an elderly man of a solemn, soapy aspect, set off
+by a sober black livery and a neat wig. He took me up to a bedroom, and
+saw to my comfort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"William, or whatever it is," I began.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"William it is, sir," said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do I look like an assistant aide-de-camp to a prince?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took stock of me, from my dirty boots to my bare head, and then said
+solemnly, "No, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"William," said I, "but that's precisely what I am."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir," he replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Therefore this is precisely your opportunity, William."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir," said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"William," I went on insinuatingly, "I think you could, knowing this
+house so intimately as you do, make me look something like an assistant
+aide-de-camp to a prince. It's a tough job, William, but you'll do it. I
+can see it in your eye. By virtue of the power adherent to the assistant
+aide-de-camp of a prince, we hereby authorize you to do all things that
+may be necessary for the accomplishment of our purpose, and, when your
+task is over, you will, by a curious coincidence, find five guineas under
+yon candlestick. Life, William, is full of coincidences."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But not as full of guineas, William, as it should be. Set to work!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instead of going he stood there, gently washing his hands with imaginary
+soap and water, and finally said, "You will of course, sir, be very angry
+if I do not do as you bid me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall, William," said I, lathering away at my chin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I may take it, sir, that you'll blow my brains out if I don't."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blow your--Oh, I see! Certainly!" said I, tailing off from astonishment
+into understanding.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The quiet humour of the man was delightful. I fetched a pistol out of my
+pocket and added gravely, "William, unless I am, in appearance as well as
+in fact, a prince's assistant aide-de-camp in half an hour, I'll blow your
+brains out. Now clear out, while I have a bath!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thankee, sir. It'll be all right now. My lord is, I should say, just of
+a size with your honour."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+William was an artist and fitted me out with the nothing-too-much of
+exact taste. There were garments by the score that would have made a
+popinjay of me, but he knew better, and turned a sober young yeoman into a
+sober young gentlemen, and there's no harder task, as I have frequently
+observed since.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said he at length, stepping back a few paces to con me over, "in
+any other man I should deplore the obstinacy-excuse my plainness, sir
+--which declines to wear a wig, but the general result, the <i>tout
+ensemble</i>, as my lord would put it, is agreeable."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"William," I replied, "you err through ignorance--excuse my plainness,
+William. The best Wheatman of the Hanyards that ever lived would have
+burned at the stake rather than wear a wig. I've done most of the other
+things he would have burned for, but I'll stick by him to this extent that
+I'll be damned if I'll wear a wig."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I never have, and it is no small measure due to me that the wearing of
+wigs is being left to lawyers and doctors, who, I understand, find it pays
+to look old and old-fashioned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quite so, sir! A very proper sentiment," said William, with his eye on
+the candlestick. "It's family pride that keeps the great families agoing,
+sir, and they're the backbone of the Constitution, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this high sentence, as I was ready to go, he gravely escorted me to
+the door and bowed me out. I dropped my ear to the keyhole and heard the
+chink of the guineas. William clearly had a very pretty appreciation of
+the best means of keeping himself agoing. A suaver, defter rascal I have
+never set eyes on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had already so much of soldiership as to know that it is well to master
+the ins and cuts and roundabouts of a strange house. If an emergency comes
+it may be the best guide to action. "Know your ground and win your fight,"
+the Colonel used to say, and it's as true of a house as of a province. So
+I walked softly and watchfully about, and in doing so had turned sharp to
+the right to gain a view of the river and the gardens, when I came on the
+Lady Ogilvie. She was kneeling on a cushioned settle, resting her chin in
+her hands, and her elbows on the high back of the seat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She turned to see who it was. Her face was clouded over, but the sun of
+her smile broke through in a flash, and she darted joyously at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's the incomparable one!" she cried, bubbling over with merriment.
+"Nay, I vow, it's the still more incomparable one. Losh, man, and ye look
+bonny! I'm telling it ye, and I've seen more bonny men than you've seen
+bullocks. Sit down and tell me where you've been and what you've done.
+Davie says you tell't him I was very, very guid. And so I am," she ended
+complacently, "and if any man says the differ...."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He'll do well to keep out of Davie's road and mine," I cut in, as I was
+building up the cushions into a soft corner for her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're an unco' guid lad," she said, wriggling into her nest, "an' if it
+werena for some one I ken I'd gie ye anither kiss."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I willingly admit that I wished Davie far enough, for she was a very
+dainty lady, with a mouth like an open rose-bud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had a long talk, for I told her all about my doings with ghost,
+thieves, thief-catchers, and baby Blount. She enjoyed it to the top of her
+bent. Then, when I had come to the end of my tale, she sobered all of a
+sudden, and said, "Oliver, what's going to happen to us?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I don't know," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's something in the wind I dinna like. Davie's a' for ganging back.
+We women ought never to have come. Davie can think o' naething but me. As
+if I mattered a tup's head, the silly gomeril, bless him! Now there's your
+Maclachlan. He'd go to London if it was full o' deevils to fetch a
+stay-lace for Margaret, but he's a' for the homeward gait too!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The best military opinion is that it is hopeless to go on," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I dinna think it's much better to gae back, laddie. It's a retreat.
+Ca' it what you like, you can mak' nae ither thing of it, and these
+Highland bodies, ance they retreat, will break to bits. Naething will keep
+the main of 'em taegither, ance they cross the Highland line again. Sae
+it's a black look out, Oliver, but I dinna mind ane wee bit. If I'd no
+been a Jacobite, I'd never hae met my Davie yonder. He's worth it a', is
+Davie."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's a hard task for any man to be worthy of your ladyship," said I,
+"but Davie's worthy if any man is."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And Davie reckons you're fine," she replied, smiling. "Margaret pit him
+doon for three dances, and sat in a corner with him through 'em a'. I
+wonder the incomparable one's lugs"--I knew what she meant because she
+pinched one--"arena burnt off his head. You should hae seen Maclachlan
+ranting and raving like an auld doited tup!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is pleasant to learn that Mistress Waynflete is so interested in my
+doings," said I, with as much coolness and aloofness as I could muster. I
+would at least keep my foolishness on my own side of my teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Unco pleasant, I hae nae doot," was her dry comment. And she set her red
+lips aslant as if she were swallowing vinegar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remembered my new function, and looked at my watch. I had long overrun
+the hour the Colonel had given me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your ladyship will pardon me," said I, springing up, "but I'm overdue
+for duty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Duty?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes. His Royal Highness has appointed me assistant aide-de-camp to
+himself."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke with much impressiveness but, to my chagrin, instead of the
+congratulations that were my due on such an occasion, she looked concerned
+and almost angry, and cried, "The very deil's in it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am sorry your ladyship is displeased," I said coldly. Scot clings to
+Scot, and she did not like it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Displeased, ye daft gomeril!" she retorted. "And I suppose you'll be
+pleased, and Margaret will shout for joy, if ye get a dirk in your
+assistant aide-de-camp's ribs ane o' these fine nights. Just understand
+ance for a', my friend, that a Highlander kills a man wi' as little
+compunction as an Englishman squashes a beetle. There's nane o' your
+law-and-order bodies beyont the Highland line."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing but common murderers!" said I hotly. "I have heard much of the
+virtues of the Highlanders of late, but this surprises me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hoots! Murderers?" she cried. "No such silly Saxon whimsies. They've got
+as many virtues as any Englisher that ever snivelled prayer and shortened
+yardstick. Murderers! Hoots, my mannie! Just removers of difficulties!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So she turned it off with a jest in her pretty way, and got up and jigged
+along the corridor with me after her, longing to jig it with her, but
+hobbled by my new dignity. I had no clear notion of an assistant
+aide-de-camp's duties, but felt that they required a certain solemnity of
+manner inconsistent with her ladyship's grasshopper ways.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the end, she dancing and I lumbering along, we came on a cheerful
+group collected in the corridor below. There was the Prince, the Duke of
+Perth, the Lord Ogilvie, the two Irishmen, Mr. Secretary, the Colonel, a
+strange lady or two, and Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought your ladyship was lost," said Charles, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On the contrary, sir," she retorted, "I was found."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The usual explanation," he commented lightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A most unusual explanation, sir," she countered deftly, "for Mr.
+Wheatman has been explaining how it came to pass that he kissed a ghost."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It wasna necessary," she said airily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amused
+by the dialogue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not the
+advantage of knowing Master Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on,
+"I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman of
+the Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from the
+gentry of his shire."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentried
+me in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack in
+my coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himself
+singularly graceful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Prince
+with one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formal
+pairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was coming
+for Margaret, and thus left her to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked at
+me, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, Sir
+Kiss-the-ghost!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly,
+"Sensible ghost!"
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST</h3>
+
+<p>
+Dinner was a success from the Prince's point of view. The Duke was
+completely won over to the idea of our going on, and even the Lord Ogilvie
+at one time wavered before the Prince's onslaught. The Irishmen were
+strongly in favour of it, and Mr. Secretary, when thawed by wine, grew
+expansive over its advantages. I incline to think that the rascal had
+ratted already, and was anxious to get all he could out of the Government
+by leading the Prince into a trap. Trap it would have been, as Culloden
+plainly showed. Against English regular soldiers, resolutely led, the
+Highlanders would work no more miracles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So for a space the chatter and laughter went on. Charles was already in
+St. James's, and the ladies were already queening it in the new Court over
+the renegade beauties of the old one. Even Margaret caught some of the
+enthusiasm, so that I whispered to her, "You beat our Kate at counting
+your unhatched chickens."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whereat she sobered all of a sudden, and whispered, "Maybe you are right,
+Oliver!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope for your sake they are true prophets," I said. "I should dearly
+like to see you a marchioness before I go back to my farming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's one of the chickens I've not counted," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at me very steadily, and then turned and plunged into the
+stream of conversation flowing around her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her father had steered clear of all awkward topics, taking for granted
+that we were going on. Charles got less cautious as he got surer, and
+moreover, as I could not but observe, he was mellowing somewhat under the
+brandy he was drinking. Princes commonly have no judgment of men, having
+never the need of noting their humours in order to mould them to their
+will. So now Charles bluntly attacked the Colonel again on the military
+aspect of the situation, which was merely butting against a stone wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You must remember, Colonel," he said, "that my Highlanders have driven
+the English soldiery before them like sheep. They wiped out an army of
+them at Gladsmuir in less than fifteen minutes, and only lost thirty men
+killed in doing it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said the Colonel, "give me one thousand English soldiers for a
+week and I'll pit them against any thousand Highlanders you like to bring
+against 'em."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then it's a good job you're on my side," said Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is indeed, sir," said the Colonel, very quietly, "and under favour,
+sir, you will be well advised to have your troops exercised in the best
+ways of charging men who don't mean to run from them. There's no military
+science wanted to beat men who run away from you as soon as you attack. As
+I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance,
+throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he
+catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather shield,
+where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife
+through a cheese."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command
+against you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the
+Prince poured out his third glass of brandy. Everybody was intent on the
+dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the
+napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure
+in a Euclid book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How would you stop it, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more
+important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I only answer, as in the presence of God, for myself," said he
+piously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Leaving God to look after Mr. Secretary," said Charles, banging his
+empty glass on the table. "I'll answer for the rest. So get on with your
+plan, Colonel."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His Royal Highness has selected the easier task," whispered Margaret in
+my ear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, sir," began the Colonel, "I should say to my men: 'When the
+Highlanders charge, take no notice of the man who is coming straight at
+you. Keep your eye on his left-hand man, who is coming at your right-hand
+man. Don't fire at him till you can see the whites of his eyes, and if you
+don't bring him down with the bullet, have at him and thrust your bayonet
+into his right ribs. There's no buckler there, and his right arm will be
+up to strike. The man coming at you will be attended to in the same way by
+your left-hand man.' After a week's practice in that little trick, sir, I
+should face any charge your Highlanders liked to make, and would bet a
+thousand guineas to this pinch of rappee--poor stuff as it is--on stopping
+'em dead in their tracks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By gad! and so you would, sir!" said my Lord Ogilvie explosively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It sounds feasible," said old Sir Thomas, "but fortunately Colonel
+Waynflete is with us, and can teach us new tricks."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course he can," said Charles. "What do you say, Master Wheatman? You
+know him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That old poachers make the best gamekeepers, sir," I answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"<i>Nom de chien</i>," cried the Colonel, twirling fiercely round on me.
+Margaret, who sat between us, laughingly pretended to protect me from him,
+and he thrust his snuff-box across at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Prince rose, and, followed by Murray, left the room. We all stood
+gossiping together. Ogilvie and O'Sullivan talked very earnestly about the
+Colonel's trick. His Grace of Perth ogled Margaret off towards the window
+on pretence of showing her some sight of interest in the square.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did they leave him in the lurch?" twittered a voice mockingly in my ear.
+It was my lady Ogilvie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It must be nice to be with a duke," said I, very glum and miserable
+again all of a sudden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's a great deal nicer to be with a man," she answered. "Come and help
+me throw crumbs to the pretty wee birdies in the garden."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In his attempt to 'smash 'em in detail' the Prince was acute enough to
+use the Colonel, and condescending enough to use me, as supporters. The
+unrivalled military skill which the Colonel would devote to the winning of
+London was dwelt upon until even the Colonel, in no wise inclined to
+under-estimate it, got restive, and snuffed and pshawed with great vigour.
+I, of course, was the early, strong-winged swallow that announced the
+flights of laggards behind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were some dozen chiefs of considerable position in the Prince's
+army, and he tackled them one by one, and tried to argue them into his way
+of thinking. Some he sent for to his lodging; others he visited in theirs
+--a special but wasted mark of distinction. On the whole they would not
+budge. They were courteous and respectful, for they were gentlemen, and he
+was their Prince, but their minds were made up and they would not
+surrender their wills to his. Mostly, in their talk, they simply chewed
+over again the morning's cud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Secretary went off as envoy to fetch the chiefs to Exeter House,
+where the Prince received them in his little private chamber overlooking
+the gardens. He would stand, silent and moody, glowering out of the
+window, with the Colonel and me standing silent and thoughtful behind him.
+I felt keenly for him, for he was indeed a gracious, likeable young
+fellow, born to purple poverty and a shadowy princedom, and now, as he
+thought, with the reality of wealth and power snatched out of his grasp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If we go back," said he, turning his eyes on me, so that I saw how life
+and light had quite gone out of them, "it's all over with my House."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope not, sir," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it is," he cried bitterly, almost rudely. "All over with us--and
+all over with me. If we go on, I shall at the worst go to my grave strong
+and sweet. If we go back--"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He paused and looked moodily out of the window. I think now, as I picture
+him to myself standing there, that he knew himself well enough to know
+what was coming. For another picture of him comes to my mind, as I saw him
+in Rome many years later, and shuddered as I saw him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned and smiled at me, as one smiles who sips sour wine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If we go back, friend Wheatman, I shall just rot into it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke truth. I saw him rotting.
+
+And then, because he had more stuff in him than any other royal Stuart
+that ever lived, he turned round, proud and princely, as the door opened
+and in came Mr. Secretary with Macdonald of Glencoe, a short-horned bull
+of a man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And when was it," said he, rapping the words out like hammer-strokes on
+an anvil, "that the Macdonalds got feart?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Chief pulled up short, hit clean and hard between the eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye'll never see a feart Macdonald," he said, "if ye live to be as auld
+as Ben Nevis."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye're in the wrong, Glencoe," said Charles. "I saw one this morning, and
+he was frightened of the English."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll gie ye the lie o' that," roared Glencoe, "if I hae to scrat my way
+into London wi' ma nails."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll be glad of the lie from you on those terms," replied Charles
+calmly, "and you shall ride into London at my right hand while I take my
+words back."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Prince went to a table and filled a silver-gilt tass with brandy. He
+sipped it and then, handing it to the Chief, said, "We'll share the same
+glass to-day, Glencoe, as a pledge that we'll share the same victory
+to-morrow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not like his brandy-drinking, but he did it well this time. As I
+have said, he was at his best in dealing with a single man face to face.
+It is only the rarest and finest spirits that can dominate a crowd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At a sign from the Prince the Colonel and I escorted the Chief to the
+door, bestowing on him, as was due and politic, every courtesy. He looked
+like a man who, after days of doubt, had newly found himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We've got him!" cried Charles gleefully as the door closed behind him.
+"Now, gentlemen, I crave your attendance on a progress round the town. Mr.
+Wheatman, bear our compliments to my Lord Elcho, and bid him call out some
+score or so of our guards to escort us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We made a gallant show as we walked the streets of Derby in the early
+grey of that December evening. Ahead of us went a dozen dismounted
+life-guards to clear the causeways. Then followed Mr. Secretary with a
+brace or two of town notables unwillingly yoked to the task of giving an
+appearance of local support; then followed the Prince, between O'Sullivan
+and the Colonel, with young Clanranald and me at their heels; and another
+dozen life-guards in the rear. As we passed along the causeways, a score
+or so of mounted guards, with Lord Elcho at their head, kept level with us
+in the roadways. Volleys of slogans greeted us wherever we went, for the
+town was full to bursting of the clansmen. The townsmen crowded to doors
+and windows to watch us pass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Prince doffed to them every other yard, but he and all of us were
+mere curiosities to most of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The progress was stayed at the "White Horse" in Sadler-gate, and the
+Prince, with us, his immediate attendants, turned into the inn-yard, with
+its long uneven lines of stables and coach-houses, all packed with
+Camerons. At the news of the Prince's coming they trooped out, yelling
+lustily. Some sort of order was formed, and the Prince walked up and down
+among the swaying, uncouth masses, with a cheery smile on his face, and
+with now and again a phrase of their own Gaelic on his lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The men are keen enough," he said to the Colonel apart. "Let us go
+within and see what mood young Lochiel is in now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lochiel, 'young' only by way of distinction from a Lochiel still older,
+wanted no digging out, for, the news having been carried to him, he ran
+out bareheaded and breathless. He was, in fact, a middle-aged gentleman,
+broody and melancholy at times, as these men of the mountains are apt to
+be when they've got brains. At the Council he had been silently set on
+going back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your men are in fine fettle, Lochiel," said Charles, "and as keen as
+their claymores to be at it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They dinnae see the hoodie-craws gathering for the feast," said Lochiel
+sombrely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They see the battle won and the spoils of victory, after the usual way
+with the Camerons," replied the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They havenae the gift of far-seeing," said the Chief, gloomily proud of
+his own prophetic powers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles started impatiently, and there would have been a wrangle but for
+the Colonel.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said he, addressing the Prince, "you will forgive an old
+campaigner for being a stickler for the rules and procedures of military
+operations. An inn-yard, with soldiery around and townsfolk gaping through
+doors and windows, is no place for a council of war. The gentleman is
+pleased to dream, of birds, as I gather. Let him back to the fireside and
+dream of them in peace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without another word the Prince turned on his heel and strode out of the
+yard. I attended him at first, but missed the Colonel, and turned back to
+him, for Lochiel was all a Highlander, seer one minute and savage the
+next. Indeed, I found him, all his moodiness gone, as mad as a hatter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'll hae the heart's blood o' ye for this, prince or no prince," he
+bawled at the Colonel, who, precisely as I expected, was seizing the
+welcome opportunity of having a pinch of snuff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad!" said he, holding out the box, as indifferent to the crowding
+Camerons as if they were sheep. "Make it pigeons next time, Mr. Lochiel.
+Damme, Oliver, this rappee gets unendurable."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His coolness took Lochiel off the boil, and he and I passed out without
+another word into Sadler-gate and hurried after the Prince. We found the
+progress somewhat ragged, and, as we were only a few yards from the corner
+of Rotten Row, which forms the side of the square opposite Exeter House,
+it was, I suppose, hardly worth while to trim it into shape again. In
+those few yards, however, an incident much more to my liking occurred, for
+just as we turned round the leading file of the rear of guards, we found
+that the Prince had again halted, in the light of a shop-window, and this
+time it was to talk to Margaret, who was standing there with Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a large shop with two well-stocked bow-windows. The doorway
+between them, and half the inwards of the shop, were filled with the shop
+master, his apprentices, and customers, crowding and craning to get a
+sight of the Prince. Over the door was a shield-shaped sign, bearing the
+Derby ram for cognizance, and the legend, "Martin Moyle, Grocer and
+Italian Warehouseman." I noted it then, because the word 'Italian' carried
+me back to Margaret's tirra-lirring, and I note it down now because,
+having looked at it, my eyes ranged over the heads of the gapers in the
+doorway to where Maclachlan, on the fringe of the group, was dodging about
+to find a place where he could see Margaret without being seen by the
+Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake was talking with the Prince as composedly as if they had
+been friends of old standing. We had missed the beginning of their talk,
+but it was plain that Charles had expected a recruit and was disappointed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And why do you stand aside from us both?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said the sedate merchant, "I am not interested in making kings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What then?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kingdoms, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kingdoms!" cried the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kingdoms!" reiterated Master Freake, with pride and emphasis. "But for
+me, and men like me, this country would be a waste not worth fighting for."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Prince looked with astonishment at the calm, solid man who made this
+strange announcement. After a minute's reflection, he said, "Mr. Freake, I
+would talk with you in private, if you will."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With pleasure, sir," replied Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And, naturally, Mistress Waynflete will not be cruel," continued the
+Prince, offering his arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret took it, and the procession moved on again. Master Freake linked
+his arm in mine, and we walked on together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You've had adventures, I hear, since we parted, Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I fell into the claws of poetic justice," I answered, "and, having
+failed as a real highwayman, nearly hanged as an imaginary one."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He laughed. "Well, keep out of the sergeant's claws. He's only five miles
+off with a brace of his dragoons, but little Dot is watching him. The time
+to deal with him is not yet. Wait till his lordship of Brocton joins him.
+What do you think of the Prince?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I would not have believed a prince could be so likeable, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am, and shall remain, a mere observer," he said, "a mere tracker-down
+of ten per cent on good security, but I don't mind admitting that, prince
+for prince, I prefer this young gentleman to the fat, snuffy, waddling,
+little drill-sergeant he's trying to displace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know the King, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, and I know his weak spot, too, which is more important for our
+purposes. If His Gracious Majesty went to bed to-night with as many
+guineas in his pocket as that"--he jingled his loose coin vigorously
+--"he'd sleep in his breeches."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the way to Exeter House the Prince recovered his high spirits, and
+even kept us waiting in the hall while he continued some lightsome
+argument Margaret had led him into. At last he broke it off, laughing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Freake will think me an idle princeling for this, madam," he said.
+"For your offence in thus hindering our matters of state we commit you to
+ward, and straightly charge our loyal subject, Master Wheatman, to hold
+you safe in keeping till after supper, when we will undertake to show you
+that our Highland reel can be as graceful as your Italian fandango."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So, in great good humour, he went off with the Colonel and Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your aide-de-camp's commission runs so far, I trust," said Margaret
+demurely, "as to permit me to choose my own cell."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think that might be allowed, madam," I replied, with answerable
+gravity, "but of course I must sit outside the door and keep strict watch
+over you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You would, I suppose, feel surer of me if you sat inside the door?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Naturally, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then come along! I must know all that's knowable about that ghost. 'I
+never said any such thing,' quoth he! You're the cleverest man with your
+tongue I ever met, Oliver. And with what a pretty heat he said it! Just
+as, beyond a doubt, he did it with that pretty way he has."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If words were tones, and smiles, and eye-flashes, and lip-curlings, I
+could tell you not only what Margaret said but how she said it, and how,
+in saying it, she made mad sweet music ring within me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were out in the square again now, threading our way among people I
+hardly saw for being so wrapt up in her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was she a pretty ghost?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very," said I decidedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How old was she?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Eighteen, or thereabouts."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Eighteen! Oh, dear! I never dreamed it was as bad as that. I think
+kiss-giving and kissable ghosts over thirteen ought not to be allowed.
+Eighteen! It's a clear incitement to suicide!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was laughing at her whimsical sally when one particular item in the
+crowd demanded attention, for it obtrusively barred our way. It was
+Maclachlan, once again hot and red with haste, waving a small package he
+had in his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye left me, Mistress Margaret," he said. "I've been searching high and
+low for ye."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And I'm glad you've found me, for I see you've got me the olives. You
+are indeed kind, Mr. Maclachlan."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye left me!" he repeated passionately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's true," she said lightly. "I forgot all about you till I saw a
+hand with an obvious bottle of olives dangling from it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now this was not Margaret, or at least it was another strange side of
+her. With me she had been almost absurdly grateful for such little
+services as I had rendered. I had got her eggs, as he had got her olives,
+but I and my eggs had not been received like this. I looked from one to
+the other curiously. She was cool and smiling, as befitted some small
+social occasion. He was just as clearly throbbing with passion. He, the
+Maclachlan, had been neglected, and neglected for me! I wondered why
+Margaret did not tell him that the Prince had commanded her company. That
+should have satisfied even him; but no, she left him in his error, and
+merely took the olives out of his hand, saying, "I hope they'll be fresh,
+though it's hardly to be expected in a little town in the middle of
+England."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan had paid not the slightest attention to me and, while ready
+enough to deal with him, I paid none to him, and began to think him
+somewhat of an ass to be standing in the market-place of Derby airing his
+passions. Fortunately, perhaps, Lord George Murray, striding by towards
+Exeter House, caught sight of us and stopped abruptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha' ye made a' right at the bridge yonder, Maclachlan?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young Chief's face supplied the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye havenae!" stormed Murray. "By gad, sir," lugging out his watch, "if
+you don't, in two hours from now, report all arrangements made, I'll hae
+ye shot by a squad of the Manchester ragabushes. Aff wi' ye, ye jawthering
+young fule!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan went off without so much as a bow to Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you taken out your commission, sir?" said Murray to me, snapping
+the words out as though he would have them shear my head off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have, my lord," I answered, forestalling the words with a correct
+military salute.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then what the blazes are you doing here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," I answered firmly, "by the direct commission of His Royal
+Highness, given to me personally, I am escorting this lady to jail."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I'll forgive ye!" he retorted, and his strong face lost all its
+anger and found the wraith of a smile. "Dinnae be too hard on the lassie!
+She's ane of the right sort."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He returned my salute, bowed courteously to Margaret, and strode on
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad!" said Margaret, happily mimicking her father. "You shall have
+some of the olives in a minute or two."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Olives seem to me precisely the right thing for us," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And why, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was very curious to me to see how, in her speech to me, she whipped
+about from the familiar "Oliver" to the stately "Sir." There was always a
+reason for it, and I would have given much to know it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your olives come from Italy, and I have been thinking of your Italian
+count."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So have I," she said very soberly, and never said another word till we
+were safe and quiet in her day-room at the "Bald-Faced Stag."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For over two hours I had Margaret to myself, and we were as happy and
+companionable as we had been in Dick Doley's cottage. And at this I
+marvelled. Our Kate was the only woman I had to judge by, and when our
+Kate got into her very best Sunday gown she got into her tantrums along
+with it, and poor Jack, what with awe of her finery and anxiety lest he
+should anger the minx, commonly had a thorny time of it. With Margaret it
+was just the opposite. When we got in, she excused herself and went off to
+her own room, coming back, after a weary time, in such a glory of silks
+and satins that I blinked my eyes before her dazzlements. What made it
+worse was that there was a comb--as she called it, though I should in my
+ignorance have thought it some rich and rare work in filigree belonging to
+an empress--which, owing to the smallness of her mirror and the poor
+light, she could not get to sit perfectly in its golden cushion, and I was
+bidden to put it where and as it ought to be. I was a long time over the
+task, in part because I was really clumsy, but mainly because I was in no
+hurry. I got it right at last, and even ventured, very craftily and
+lightly, to kiss it as it lay there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's quite right now," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At last! I'm afraid it's been a trouble to you. Now, Oliver, open the
+bottle of olives, and, while we eat them, tell me all about the ghost."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many a time in the hard days that came to me later, I refreshed my soul
+by thinking those happy hours over again. They are part of me, but no part
+of my story, and I make no record of them here. We had long talks, with
+long silences between them, as can only happen with very real friends who
+are company for one another without a clatter of words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last this golden time came to an end, for in walked the Colonel and
+Master Freake to supper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am thankful," said the Colonel to Margaret. "Murray told me you'd been
+taken to jail."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You heard the news with great content, I suppose," said Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did, because--" He stopped to frown into the snuff-box.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because of what? Pray observe, gentlemen, what an affectionate father I
+have!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because he also told me the name of your jailer!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You don't deserve to have a daughter," declared Margaret, with such a
+pretence of vehemence that her cheeks, between and beneath her coils of
+yellow hair, blazed like two poppies in a wheat-shook.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've made up for it by deserving something even better, and that's a
+good supper. Pull the bell, Oliver!"
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+Arrived in the great chamber at Exeter House, we found Charles making his
+last stand. Feeling ran riot; there was little regard for the regentship
+of the Prince; true to itself to the end, the Stuart cause was dying in a
+babel of broken counsels.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies of the party were collected, uncertain and disquieted, on the
+hearth, where Margaret joined them, while the Colonel and I made our way
+and stood behind the Prince.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His Grace of Perth desires to go on," said Charles. "So does Glencoe. So
+do my faithful Irish friends. Your men, as you well know, expect to go on.
+To get them to go back, you must start in the dead of night and lie to
+them, telling them they are going on. Only you, their chiefs and fathers,
+want to go back."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To hell with the Irish!" cried one from the background. "They're no'
+worth the dad of a bonnet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's no matter to them," said another man by him. "They've neither haid
+nor maid to lose."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fetched O'Sullivan to his feet in a tearing rage. "We've got lives
+to lose," he cried, "and, by G--, we're not afraid to lose 'em!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this the yelling must have been heard in the square, and the
+gesticulating and grimacing would have been amusing on a less serious
+occasion. At last, in a lull in the gale, the Colonel, addressing the
+Prince, curtly demanded, "Who is the chief military commander of your
+army, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My Lord George Murray," answered Charles bitterly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then it's time your commander commanded. This spells disaster whether we
+go on or go back."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's the plain truth you're telling, Colonel Waynflete," said Lord
+Ogilvie loudly. In an undertone I heard him say, "Oot wi' it, Geordie!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Murray arose, everybody knew the finishing touch was to be put to
+the business, and a strained silence fell on the assembly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have advised ye to go back, sir," he said, "because, in the complete
+absence of the support we were led to expect, it is foolish to go on. Your
+Royal Highness wants to go on, and there's not a man here who does not
+honour you for your courage. Now, sir, I will go on, and so shall every
+man here I can command or influence, if those who hae tell't ye behind my
+back that they think we ought to go on will put their opinion down in
+writing and subscribe their names to it, here and now. One condition more,
+sir. That writing, so subscribed, shall be sent by a sure hand direct from
+this town to His Majesty in Rome, so that he may judge each man justly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I agree," said Charles eagerly. "Pen and paper, Mr. Secretary!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It at once became clear, however, that Murray had taken the measure of
+the men he had to deal with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why make flesh of one and fish of another?" asked O'Sullivan, and old
+Sir Thomas nodded approval of the question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The decision should be the decision of the Council," said the Duke of
+Perth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will ye write your names to it, or will ye not?" demanded Murray.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No one spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That settles it, sir," said Murray. "But I desire you, Mr. Secretary, to
+make a note of my offer and its reception."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have your way!" said Charles, in sullen anger. "But it settles another
+thing for ye. I call no more councils."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He turned and strode out of the room. The Stuart cause was in its coffin,
+and it only remained for us to give it a fair burial.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the door closed behind the Prince, the Colonel whispered in my ear,
+"Slip off and tell Freake!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did the journey at a run, and found Master Freake sitting, quietly
+meditative, but booted and spurred for his journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Oliver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We go back to-night."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In five minutes I was standing in the Ironmarket at his grey mare's head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm not deserting you, lad," said he, gripping my hand heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course not, sir. Good-bye, and good luck!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My love to Margaret. Look out for the sergeant. Good-bye!"
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>A BROTHER OF THE LAMP</h3>
+
+<p>
+Two days afterwards, towards six o'clock on a bitter evening, I rode
+wearily into Leek. I was having a hard apprenticeship in soldiering under
+a master who had no idea of sparing either me or himself. For the Colonel
+had accepted the post of second, under Murray, in command of our
+rear-guard, and had made it a condition of acceptance that I should be
+with him. Some thirty Highlanders, mostly Macdonalds, picked dare-devils,
+had been mounted and turned into dragooners, and I, thanks to the Colonel,
+had been made Captain over them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The lad's no experience, but he's got sense," he said to my lord George
+Murray.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I ken him weel aneugh," said his lordship. "He threatened to knock my
+head off. D'ye ca' that sense, Kit Waynflete?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Since your head's still on your shoulders," said the Colonel, fumbling
+for his snuff, "I do. He knocked Maclachlan's Donald into a log of timber,
+and, damme, I hardly saw his hand move."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's only a trick, sir," I protested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Weel, Captain Wheatman," said Murray, "keep your ugly English tricks to
+y'rsel. Mind ye, colonel or no colonel, I'll break ye first chance ye gie
+me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachan was, I must say, very obliging and complimentary over my
+promotion. He gave me Donald to be my sergeant and personal servant,
+finding him, how I knew not, a horse strong enough to carry him easily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is ferra guid," said Donald to his chief. "Er shall pe lookit to as
+if her were ma mither's own son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To me, Captain Wheatman, clinking about in the corridor waiting for the
+Colonel, comes William, suave and confidential as ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, William," said I. "Any more coincidences?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir," said he, and began his hand-washing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll die a rich man, William."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, sir. This particular coincidence made me the poorer by, I should
+say," suspending his washing to calculate, "some five shillings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The devil it did! How was that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your honour's clothes that you left behind, sir, when you were
+transmuted, as my lord would say, were stolen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And you value them at five shillings! I ought to crack your head for you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir. Cast-offs sells very cheap, sir. But the coincidence, sir!
+I've not really come to that yet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Go on, William! You interest me deeply."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I found them, sir, at the bottom of the garden, torn to rags, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And sold 'em for fivepence! Eh, thrifty William?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sixpence, to be exact, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel rushed me off, but I found time to give the rascal a crown,
+which put him sixpence in pocket. A servant ought to have his vails, and,
+besides, William's concern amused me a good crown's worth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was late on in the night after the final decision to go back, and
+since then I had been scouting miles behind the main body of our
+rear-guard, so as to make sure that the Duke's horse were not on our
+track. I had slept by driblets as opportunity offered. Now, my purpose
+accomplished, I was looking forward to supper and bed, having left a
+patrol of fresh men some six miles back to watch the southern road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was one thing in my mind, however, that must be attended to first.
+I must see Mistress Hardy of Hardiwick. My heart ached for her, for I knew
+how sorely she would feel the retreat of the Prince. Moreover, the
+clansmen were not likely to discriminate between her and other townsfolk,
+and I would save her from disturbance. So, jumping off the sorrel, and
+giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I
+was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly
+behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You've no need to trouble, Oliver," she said. "I've kept a room for you
+at the 'Angel.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you," I replied. "You are very kind, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes
+open to look at me. Come along, sir!" She was merrily pulling at my arm as
+she spoke. "I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you
+know, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, madam! Certainly not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very
+last resource."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I
+shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must
+see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We'll go together!" said Margaret, putting her arm in mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed.
+I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman
+appeared, candle in hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I knew you'd come, sir," she said simply. "And this is your lady! Come
+in!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Candle in hand, she paced ahead of us to the door of the room, and then
+stood aside, erect and solemn, to let us pass in. I looked at her closely.
+The worried, anxious look on her comely face had gone, and she was
+subdued, calm, and happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank God!" she whispered. "She's at peace!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stepped ahead of Margaret into the fine old room, with its pleasant
+memorials of ancientry. There they were, just as I had seen them
+--scutcheon, portrait, glove, and pounce-box. There was no change in them;
+they were the abiding elements on which a strong soul had kept itself
+strong. But change there was. At the <i>prie-Dieu</i>, kneeling in a
+rapture before the Virgin Mother, was a solemn, black-robed priest. A
+narrow white bed was in the room. Two large candles burned steadily at its
+head, two at the foot; and on the bed, the linen turned down to reveal the
+thin, frail hands crossed below the Prince's brooch, lay the still, white
+form of our lady of the square. God had taken her to Himself. Death had
+caught her with a welcoming smile on her face, and, in pity and ruth, had
+left it there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Hardys of Hardiwick had given their last gift to the cause.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tears were streaming down Margaret's cheeks. With shaking hands she
+removed her hat and, kneeling down at the bedside, clasped her hands in
+prayer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She talked no end about you, sir," whispered the serving-woman, "and
+about the beautiful lady with you. That standing in the cold square to see
+the Prince was the death of her. She would have her bed put down here,
+sir. She wanted to die here, with the old shield in her eyes, for she was
+proud of her blood, as well she might be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," I whispered back. "She was the last of a great race."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aye, sir. She was that. She was a bit moithered in her mind, dear heart,
+just afore she went. The last words she said were a prayer for his soul,
+--her sweetheart you know, sir, that she lost sixty years ago,--just as
+I'd heard her pray thousands of times. But, poor thing, she got his name
+wrong. She called him 'John.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Choking, I threw myself on my knees beside Margaret, and prayed and
+fought, and fought and prayed again. Here, before me, I saw Death in the
+only shape in which it can give no sorrow--sinless age that had gently
+glided into immortality; and, with equal vision, I saw the black
+passage ... and the still twisted thing lying there in a patch of
+gloom ... my friend, gone in the pride of his youth ... his life spilt out
+in anger and agony ... and by me. Then the innocent hand of her for whom,
+though all unwittingly, I had done this thing, crept on to my shoulder,
+and I turned to look at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank God we came, Oliver!" she whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before we could rise, the black-robed priest lifted his tall, gaunt frame
+slowly from the <i>prie-Dieu</i>. Standing on the opposite side of the bed
+he raised his hands in blessing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our sister is with God," he said, his deep voice vibrant with emotion.
+"My children, you are, as I think, those who were much in her prayers at
+the last. I know not who you are, but, in her memory and in God's name, I
+give you in this life His Peace, and in the life to come the assurance of
+His Everlasting Blessedness. Amen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ceased. Gravely, and in a solemn silence, he knelt again at the
+<i>prie-Dieu</i>. We rose. First Margaret, and then I, kissed the Prince's
+brooch and the folded hands, and then stole out of the room. We were too
+awe-stricken to speak, or even to look at each other, but, as we went, she
+placed her hand in mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Weary days, full of hard riding and scouting, passed before I saw
+Margaret again. I was always in the rear, generally far in the rear, while
+she and the other ladies were, very properly, kept well ahead. She now
+rode in the calash with Lady Ogilvie,--the two being inseparable,--and
+Maclachlan was with them. My work was hard and anxious but it kept me from
+thinking overmuch. I put all my soul into it so that it should.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The lad does very well, as I told you he would," said the Colonel to
+Murray one night when I rode in to make my report.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I see no signs of my chance of breaking him," said his lordship grimly,
+but he would have me sup with him that night, and was very unbending and
+helpful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is nothing I need say about this stage of the retreat. It was well
+managed, and is, I am told, a very creditable piece of soldiership. It
+does not belong to my story but to history, to which I leave it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Things did happen, however, that do concern me. The first was laughable
+though vexatious. This was the manner of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the Prince was making the stage from Macclesfield to Manchester,
+and Murray and the Colonel were in force a few miles in his rear, I had to
+keep the country behind them well observed. I had one patrol within sight
+of Macclesfield, and others stretching out along an edge of upland country
+running westward to the next main road. I spent the night in a little
+wayside ale-house, and was having my breakfast next morning when I was
+disturbed by a succession of yells from without.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I ran into the yard and there was Donald, the rough head of one of my
+dragoons in each hand, banging them together, varying his bangs with kicks
+at any accessible spot, and shrieking at them in Gaelic, while they
+shrieked back and wriggled to escape. He stopped when he saw me, but still
+held them by the pow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What's it all about, Donald?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The loons! It's Glencoe 'erself sail hang 'em," he said breathlessly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What for? Out with it, Donald!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, you gomeril"--shoving one of the men sprawling into the stable
+--"oot wi' it! Bring your tarn rogues wark 'ere!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man came sheepishly out with my saddle, cut and ripped and gutted
+till it wasn't worth a sou.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Strict and stern inquiry threw little light on the matter. I had my own
+suspicions, namely, of two licorous raffatags in the so-called Manchester
+regiment, whom I had handsomely kicked out of a roadside cottage where
+they were for behaving after their kind. They had been seen prowling about
+the curtilage of the ale-house the night before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went back to my breakfast. For a few hours I had to make shift with the
+saddle of one of my dragoons, but, after a short halt later on, Donald
+brought out the sorrel with a fine, and nearly new, saddle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tat's petter," said he. "'Er sail ride foine now."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This cost you a twa-three bawbees, I'll be bound," I remarked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald grinned intelligently and I made no closer inquiry. The good
+fellow made me uncomfortable, for he would have slit the throat of the
+greatest squire along the road to get me a shoe-lace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Early next morning his lordship sent me ahead into Manchester with a
+dispatch for the Prince, who had spent the night there. It was a welcome
+task, for it would, I hoped, give me at least a sight of Margaret. Instead
+of this sweet meat, however, I got sour sauce.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I got there our army was beginning its onward march, and there were
+thousands of people about to watch the clansmen fall in, and little
+disguise they made of their feelings. As it happened, when I rode into the
+square, Ogilvie's large regiment was lining up, and he left it in charge
+of his major to come and talk to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm wishing you'd come half an hour ago," he began. "Ishbel would ha'
+given much to see you, and so wad some one else, I'm thinking."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have the ladies started already?" I asked, with painful carelessness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Losh, man, Maclachlan has 'em up and away the morn in fine style. He's
+getting a very attentive chiel is Maclachlan, and I wonder ma Ishbel disna
+like him better than she does. There's too damn few of us to be spitting
+and sparring among ourselves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is so, my lord," I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm just plain Davie to ma friends," he said simply. "I'm no exactly a
+man after God's ain heart, like my Bible namesake, but I hae no speeritual
+pride where a guid man's concernit, and it ill becomes men who are in the
+same boat, and that only a cockle-shell thing, to be swapping off court
+terms wi' ane anither. They're aff, an' we mun step it out. An' I'm no
+really a lord."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want the Prince's lodging, Davie," I explained, as we walked on the
+causeway level with the head of his column.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We march past it, an' I'll drop ye there. The young man takes it verra
+ill. The heart's clean melted oot of him. An' sma' wonder! See the sour,
+mum bodies in this town! When we came down there were bonfires an'
+bell-ringings, an' cheerings, an' mostly every windie wi' a lit candle,
+maybe twa-three, in it. The leddies, an' they're nae bad-lookin' lassies
+either, had bunches o' plaid ribbons in their bosoms an'--this I hae from
+Maclachlan--plaid gairters to their stockings."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In such talk we spent the way to the Prince's lodging, where I charged
+him to carry my greetings to the ladies. He wrung my hand in parting and,
+his major having halted the regiment, stepped proudly to the head of his
+men. I stood on the edge of the causeway, drew my sword, and stood at the
+salute, according to the courtesy of the wars. He returned the honour in
+like soldierly fashion, rapped out a command, and so passed on into the
+hungry North. It was the last I was to see of Davie, commonly called the
+Lord Ogilvie.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To my astonishment the Prince was not yet risen, and it was some time
+before he came to me in his day-room, where I was awaiting him. I rose and
+bowed as he entered, and gave him the dispatch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Curse your foul English weather, Captain Wheatman. It's getting into my
+bones."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was, I fancy, only his way of excusing to me the nip of brandy he
+was pouring out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's better!" he said, putting down the empty glass. "I have something
+to thank France for after all." He laughed at his own poor joke, but there
+was no ring of merriment in his laughter, and added, "Now for what my
+runaway general has to say."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He read the letter impatiently and sneeringly. "I suppose Mr. Secretary
+must write something back," was his comment. "It doesn't matter much what,
+since we're running away as fast as our legs can carry us. Any fool, or
+rogue, or Murray can run away."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He paced up and down the room with long angry strides, muttering words I
+did not understand. Suddenly he stopped, and turned on me with the
+smiling, princely face of the greater Charles I knew and liked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Curse me for an ingrate! I am heartily obliged to you, Captain Wheatman,
+for your pains. My lord speaks of you in high terms of praise. And I must
+not keep you. Murray must have his answer. Come with me, and Mr. Secretary
+shall take it down while I have my breakfast."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I followed him out and along a passage with doors on either side, outside
+one of which stood a servant or sentry, who had eyed me furtively on my
+coming inward. When he saw the Prince, he opened the door and thrust in
+his head, to announce our visit. He was clumsy, too, and, keeping his head
+round the edge of the door too long, bumped into the Prince, who rapped
+out an oath and flung him aside. As I followed Charles in, I caught a
+glimpse of the back of a man in a heavy mulberry wrap-rascal, guarded with
+tarnished silver braid at the cuffs and pockets, who was hastily leaving
+the Secretary's room by an inner door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha!" said Charles sneeringly. "More plots and politics! If I could be
+schemed into a crown, you'd be the man to do it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must be acquent wi' what gaes on in the toun, your Royal Highness, an'
+ma man yonder's a rare ferret, but I didna think him worthy to be in the
+presence, sae I just bundled him oot."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All your plotting and contrivings will not do you as much good as a
+glass of brandy. The climate's getting at you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Indeed Mr. Secretary was all of a shake, and looked in a scared manner
+from the Prince to me and back again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's naething but a little queasiness, such as we elder, bookish men are
+apt to get by ower-much application. Your Royal Highness is gracious to
+note my little ailments," said he smoothly. He had recovered already.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Try brandy!" said Charles. "It settles the stomach fine. Well, come and
+take down a reply to this while I have some breakfast!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The queasiness seemed to return, for Mr. Secretary was slow, captious,
+and argumentative, though the matter of the dispatch was only as to where
+the army should halt for a day's rest. At last Preston was decided on, and
+the dispatch written accordingly. I bowed myself out, jumped on the
+sorrel, and started for the Stockport road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our rear was closer up than usual this morning. Manchester, being a
+considerable town, was not to be cleared of our main of troops until the
+first column of the rear was in the southern skirts of the town. Outside
+the Prince's lodging, his escort of life-guards was now drawn up. As I
+rode along the edge of the market-square the Camerons were massing, and
+the streets adjacent were seething with clansmen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I put the sorrel to it and was soon out in the low open country. After
+cantering a mile or so, I caught sight of two horsemen, well ahead of me,
+riding south at a round gallop. One of them wore a big mulberry
+wrap-rascal. It is no uncommon garment to see along a turnpike on a biting
+December day, but, ten minutes later, after they dropped to a walk to ease
+their horses up a slope, I saw the silver guarding round the pockets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If this were the man I had seen hurrying out of Mr. Secretary's room, a
+look at him would be worth while, so I spurred after them. The clatter I
+made had the desired effect. At the top of the slope, wrap-rascal turned
+round. It was Weir, the Government spy. He squealed to his companion, who
+looked back in turn. My heart leaped fiercely at the sight of his seamed
+leathery face and dab-of-putty nose. It was the sergeant of dragoons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Down the slope they raced, with me after them full tilt, proud as a
+peacock to be driving two men headlong before me, and one of them an old
+campaigner. It was my undoing. The road was lined with straggling hedges,
+and a long pistol shot ahead, a cross-track cut it. The sergeant was
+giving orders to the spy as they rode, and at the crossway the sergeant,
+shouting, "Shoot low!" turned sharp to the left while the spy made for the
+right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a pretty trick, for it put me between two fires. I was on the
+spy's pistol hand as he turned, and he let fly at me, not out of
+calculated bravery, as his face plainly showed, but in a flurry of
+despair. The motive behind a shot, however, does not matter. It's the
+bullet that counts, and his got me just above the left elbow. I was up in
+my stirrups, aiming at the sergeant, who was pulling his horse round to be
+at me. I saw splinters fly from a bough to his right.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had not looked to the spy. Now a shot rang out down the lane on his
+side. It was followed by a piercing shriek, and this by another shot. In
+between the shots, the serjeant wheeled round, and raced off down the lane
+for dear life, spurring and flogging like a maniac. It was useless to
+follow. My rein hand had lost its grip, my arm felt aflame, and blood was
+already dripping fast from my helpless fingers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Looking down the lane, I saw Weir lying in the road, and a strange
+horseman climbing down from his saddle. I rode up to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How d'ye do?" he said affably. "Sorry I could not get the other chap for
+you, but I meant having Turnditch. The dirty rascal has sent his last lad
+to the gallows. Faugh! I could spit on his carrion."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A glance to the road showed that he was right. The spy's blank, yellow
+face was turned upwards; his eyes, with the horror of hell still in them,
+stared wide-open at the sky. Just above his right eyebrow there was a hole
+I could have put my finger in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Damn my silly eyes!" cried the stranger. "You're winged, sir, and badly.
+It must be seen to at once."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He helped me down, took off my coat and waistcoat, and turned up my
+shirt-sleeve, doing all this deftly and almost womanly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hurrah! Missed the bone and gone clear through! Put you right in no
+time! Plug down your finger there, sir, while I cut a stick. That's
+excellent. You won't mind if I keep you while I reload my barkers? The
+safe side, you know!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With his handkerchief and my own, and a length of hazel for a tourniquet,
+he bound up the wound, and with much skill, for he at once reduced the
+flow of blood to a mere trickle. While he was busy over me, I took stock
+of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was a man of about my own age and height, but slimmer and wirier. His
+features were rather irregular, but an intelligent, humorous look atoned
+for this defect, and his bright grey eyes were the quickest I have ever
+seen. Though an utter stranger, there was a puzzling familiarity about
+him, and I tried hard to recall which of my acquaintance featured him. His
+horse, now cropping at the roadside, was a splendid brown blood mare, the
+best horse, barring Sultan, I had seen for many a day. The last thing I
+noted was that the man was singularly well dressed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's patched you up till you can get to a regular doctor. There's a
+first-class man at Stockport, opposite the west door of the church,
+Bamford by name. You can't miss his place, and he'll pocket his fee like a
+wise man ind ask no questions."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You've done very well, sir," said I. "The blood has almost ceased to
+flow. I'm greatly beholden to you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Say no more!" he cried earnestly. "It's a boon you've conferred on me,
+if you only knew it. <i>Nemo repente turpissimus</i>, as we say."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"<i>Video proboque</i>, as we also say," I countered, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oddones! A brother of the lamp!" he cried, laughing shortly, and
+suddenly sobering. "I must be on. Sorry to leave you, sir, but I think
+you're all right. Take care, however. I was touched myself t'other day,
+and the damned hole in my ribs still bleeds if I exert myself too much."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You should surely be in bed, if there's a hole in your ribs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In bed!" he sniffed. "I took to bed, egad, and nearly got pinched. Now
+I've no need for exertion. In this gap between the Highlanders, I'm as
+snug as a flea in a blanket."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After helping me into my clothes and on to my horse, he strolled up to
+the dead man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Turnditch," he said, "you know everything now, or nothing." Then,
+dropping lightly on his knee, he turned gaily to me, and said, "Always
+plunder the Egyptian, dead or alive."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He rifled the spy's pockets with the easy indifference of an expert,
+singing as he turned them out:
+</p>
+
+<p class="ind">
+ "The priest calls the lawyer a cheat;<br>
+ The lawyer beknaves the divine;<br>
+ And the statesman because he's so great,<br>
+ Thinks his trade is as honest as mine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stopped his singing and, tossing a well-stuffed leather bag up and
+down in his hand, said, "There's really no objection to virtue when the
+jade is not her own reward. Chunk! chunk! There's alchemy for you! Half an
+ounce of lead into half a pound of gold!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stowed the bag in his pocket, jumped on his mare, and together we
+walked our horses to the turnpike, where we halted side by side, our
+horses' heads to their respective destinations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I, holding out my hand, "I am greatly in your debt. My name
+is Oliver Wheatman, of the Hanyards, Staffordshire. May I have the
+pleasure of learning yours?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took my hand, looked at me intently, with his grey eyes very
+thoughtful and steady, and then said quietly, "Samuel Nixon, Bachelor of
+Arts, sometime Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Commonly called 'Swift Nicks,'" I added, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Right first time," he cried gleefully, and shot off like an arrow
+towards Manchester.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So Nance Lousely had not got her pinnerfull of guineas after all.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2>
+
+<h3>DONALD</h3>
+
+<p>
+I got my wound in the early forenoon of December the 10th. About eight
+o'clock on the night of the 17th I sat down in a deserted shepherd's hut
+to the meal Donald had got ready for me. The week had been in one respect
+a blank, for I had not seen Margaret. In every other respect it had been
+laborious, strenuous, and exciting, and we had just seen the end of the
+toughest job so far. We, meaning my dragoons and myself, were on the top
+of Shap. Some ammunition wagons had broken down on the upward climb,
+bunging up the road at its stiffest bit and delaying us for hours. His
+lordship and the Colonel, with the infantry of the rear-guard, were in
+Shap village a mile or two ahead. The Prince was still farther on,
+probably in Penrith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The delay was dangerous. Our army had rested one full day at Preston and
+another at Lancaster. Even at Preston the Colonel and I, with my dragoons,
+had barely ridden out of the town when a strong body of enemy horse rode
+in from the east, sent by Wade to reinforce the Duke. Our margin of safety
+was being cut down daily. We should have to fight before long, and I was
+posted here, on the top of Shap, to see that no surprise was sprung upon
+us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shieling, as Donald called it, was about a hundred yards past the
+highest point of the road, where a picket was on the watch. Across the
+road was a bit of a dip, and here my dragoons were making themselves
+comfortable round a roaring fire, fuel for which was provided by the
+smashed-up carcass of a derelict wagon. The country was as bare as a
+bird's tail, but by a slice of great good luck one of them had shot a
+stray sheep on the way up, and the air was thick with the smell of singed
+mutton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here I must say of my dragoons that they were men I loved to command.
+After twelve days' work of a sort to knock up an elephant they were as
+fresh as daisies. Donald they all feared, and as Donald, for my behoof,
+made no bones about telling them how the laddie's nief, sma' as it lookit,
+'ad dinged 'im, Donald, oot o' his seven senses, they feared me. I think
+they even liked me. Anyhow, I never had an ugly look or a glum word from
+one of them. Some people express surprise at the splendid Highland
+regiments now, thanks to Mr. Pitt's politic genius, serving in our army.
+It is no surprise to me who have commanded a body of clansmen for a
+fortnight in the back-end of a retreat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald was a very jewel of a man. He was servant, sergeant, nurse, and
+companion, and unbeatable in all capacities. My wound had given me more
+trouble than I expected, even though Mr. Bamford had told me that one of
+the larger arteries was injured. Once or twice since, as occasion served,
+a doctor had dressed it, but it was Donald's incessant care that did most
+for it. I still wore my left arm in a sling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had made me a fire of wood and turfs; given me roast mutton, a slice
+of cheese sprinkled with oatmeal, and good bread to eat, and a pint of
+milk laced with whisky to drink. Refinements which he would have scouted
+for himself in any place, he had taken thought to provide for me in these
+wilds--a pewter plate and a silver beaker, both stolen. The only
+furnishing in the hut was a squat log, almost the size of a butcher's
+block, which served as a table. For seat, Donald rigged up half the
+tail-board of the wagon across two heaps of turfs. He completed his work
+by producing a tallow candle stuck in a dab of clay by way of candlestick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald had left me to my food and gone over to the camp to get his own. I
+made a nourishable meal and then sat down before the fire to smoke and
+think.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had not seen Margaret since Leek, and had not been alone with her
+since, her hand in mine, we had crept out of the gracious presence of the
+dead. And I had got into a mood in which I felt that it was well I did not
+see her. Some day I should have to do without her altogether, and this was
+a chance of learning how to do it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though I had not seen her, I had heard of her. While our army stayed the
+day in Lancaster I had been watching the road within sight of the spires
+of Preston, wondering why the Duke's horse, after their accession of
+strength, did not come after us. The Marquess of Tiverton has since told
+me that the Duke had been kept a day at Preston by rumours of a French
+landing on the south coast. Being far behind, I had ridden through
+Lancaster without drawing rein, but in the main street a stranger--one of
+us, however, as his white cockade showed--had stepped up to my saddle and
+handed me a letter. It was plainly of a woman's writing, and I burned to
+think that it was Margaret's hand that had penned the direction to "Oliver
+Wheatman, Esquire, Captain of Dragoons in the army of His Royal Highness
+the Prince Regent." I tore it open, and found it was from the Lady
+Ogilvie. She would understand and forgive if she could ever know how
+disappointed I was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It had been written that morning before leaving the town, and bore traces
+of hasty composition. It ran as follows:--
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"SIR,--This is to let ye know, dear Oliver, that I'm sure M. has got a
+bee in his bonnet. I'm thinking that some one we know has tell't him she
+will hae no trokings with him in the way he wants. I dinna ken for
+certain, mark ye, but they were taegither last night, and this morning
+he's not hanging round to pit us in ye carriage, as he ordinarily does,
+and she is pale and quiet, and says she wishes her father was at hand, and
+I like it not, dear Oliver. I call you dear Oliver because y'are such a
+guid laddie, just as I'm a guid girl. Davie tell't me how you stood up and
+saluted him, and I was glad I'd kissed ye ance upon a time, though it was
+only to plague ye. Remember what I tell't ye about these Highland boddys.
+M. is like all the rest of 'em, and moreover the Prince made ye his
+aide-de-camp, and it was to have been him, tho' he didna mind at the first
+because it left him free to be courting his leddy, but noo he'll hae it
+rankling in his heart like poison. And keep your eye on that chiel,
+Donald. He's foster-brother to M., and wad stick his dirk in the Prince
+himself if M. tell't him to. They're not bad boddys, but that's how they
+are. She says naething about ye, and that's a guid sign, I'm thinking. I
+wish ye knew the French instead of that silly Lattin, for then I cud write
+ye a propper letter wi' nice words in it, but she says yell hae to learn
+Italian first to suit her, but that's only her daffery. Excuse this
+ill-writ note, for the paper is bad and I'm no sure o' my English when
+it's guid.--Your obedient servant and loving guid friend,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"ISHBEL OGILVIE"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pulled the dab of mud close to my elbow and read it again. In part it
+was plain enough. That Maclachlan was madly in love with Margaret had
+become almost a matter of common gossip. My Lord George Murray had hinted
+at it more than once, as he had at my displacing the young Chief in the
+Prince's favour. Maclachlan was son and heir to a chief of considerable
+power and reputation. That he should fall in love with Margaret was
+natural, and had she fallen in love with him I should not have been
+surprised. Even after the event, I still say that he was a fine,
+upstanding man, delightful to look on, and, so far as I knew, worthy of
+any woman, even of such a one as Margaret. But the heart is master not
+servant, and cannot be commanded. She loved him not and there was an end
+of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next, Lady Ogilvie hinted at danger to me from him. Well, if he wanted a
+fight, a fight he should have. There's no Englishman living thinks more of
+Scotsmen than I do, but I have never thought enough of the best Scot
+breathing to run away from him. As for Donald, unless I was an idiot and
+he a better actor than Mr. Garrick, he would far sooner have driven his
+dirk into himself than into me. That matter could rest. There would be no
+fighting that night, and I never put on my breeches till it's time to get
+up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Where her ladyship was wrong was in supposing, as clearly she did, that
+Margaret's love affairs interested me otherwise than as being Margaret's.
+I loved her, loved her dearly, all the more dearly because hopelessly. I
+had no qualifications which would enable me to speak my love. At my best
+nothing but a poor yeoman, I was now not even that, I was a declared rebel
+in a rebellion that had failed. And if I had had every qualification that
+rank and wealth could give me, it would still have been the same. Between
+her and me was the dead body of my friend and the widowed heart of my
+sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was meditatively refilling my pipe when I heard Donald's voice without,
+raised in earnest explanation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"An' if I didna think it wass auld Nick comin' for me afore ma reetfu'
+time, may I never drink anither drap whisky as lang as I live."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some one laughed at the explanation, and Donald, still explaining, pushed
+open the door and made way for Margaret, who, before I could rise, was
+glowering over me, in the delightful way she had, girlish pretence just
+dashed with womanly earnest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall never forgive you, nor father, nor Donald, nor anybody else. And
+you're not to move, sir!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm sorry, madam," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You always are. It's your favourite mood. You live on sorrow," she said,
+pelting me with the terse, sharp sentences. Then, for I twitched at her
+telling me I lived on sorrow, she melted at once, and said, "Oh, Oliver,
+I'm so sorry. Why did you not send for me and let me nurse it better?
+Surely that was my right as well as my duty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no contenting her till she had seen and dressed my wound. She
+had brought lint and linen with her, some kind of balsam which nearly made
+me glad she had not had the daily dressing of my arm, and even a basin and
+a huge bottle of clear spring water, which were brought in from the calash
+by Bimbo, Lady Ogilvie's little black coachman. The hut looked like a
+surgery, and Donald and Bimbo got mixed up in the most laughable way in
+dodging about to wait on her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Com' oot of it!" said Donald desperately, unwinding the little black out
+of his plaid for the second time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You one big elephant in pekkaloats!" he retorted, grinning bare his big
+white teeth. "You tread on Bimbo, Bimbo go squash."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How does it feel now?" asked Margaret, when her task was over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall be able to clout Donald with it in the morning," I answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tat's petter," said he, grinning with delight. "I'm thinkin' I'd suner
+be dinged wi' 'er again than see 'er hinging there daein' naethin'."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took Bimbo off to the camp-fire and left us alone. We wrangled about
+the seating accommodation of the hut, for the cart-tail was but short, and
+I wanted her to have it to herself. She flouted the idea, and in the end
+we shared it, and I minded its shortness no longer. She would fill my pipe
+for me, and held a burning splinter to the bowl while I got it going. Over
+her doctoring she had been very pale and quiet. Now she got her colour
+back in the light and warmth of the fire, but she quietened down again as
+soon as I was smoking in comfort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She told me briefly that she had stayed in Shap to see her father. Lady
+Ogilvie had insisted on her keeping the calash, so that she could come on
+in comfort in the morning. From her father she had learned of my wound,
+and had come on at once to see for herself how I was. She would start back
+for Shap shortly, where she was to stay the night with her father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She told me this and then leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands,
+and went quiet again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was glad of her silence, glad that she was hiding her face from me, for
+I needed to pull myself together. That something had happened was clear,
+and, whatever it was, it had struck home. In some way of deep concernment
+there was a new Margaret by my side, but in another way it was the old
+familiar Margaret as well, for she was wearing mother's long grey domino.
+She had unclasped it so that it now hung loosely on her, and flung back
+the hood so that the firelight made lambent flickerings in her hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have not seen you for twelve days," she said at last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, madam."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you been neglecting me, sir?" Just a touch of vigour was in her
+voice, but she still gazed at the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are a soldier's daughter, not an alderman's," I said quietly, and
+the retort brought her head round with a jerk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And how does that excuse your neglect?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By giving you the chance of ascertaining from your father whether my
+military duties have left me any opportunity of neglecting you," I
+answered steadily. As usual with me, since I could not woo, I would be
+master where I could. It was a source of mean delight to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"More logic," she said briefly, and turned to the fire again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Apparently she tested the logic in her mind and came to the conclusion
+that it was sound. She got up, threw some wood on the fire, thrusting me
+back playfully when I tried to forestall her, and then said merrily, "What
+do you think dad said to-night?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It would take hours to guess, I expect, so tell me at once, since I see
+it hipped you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It did," she said, with playful emphasis. "I fear I've not trained him
+up as fathers should be trained, for he coolly told me that if I had not
+had the misfortune to be a girl, I might perhaps have turned out as good a
+lad as you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Misfortune!" I echoed almost angrily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The exact word," she replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Misfortune! To be the most beautiful woman in England, with the world at
+your feet--he calls that a misfortune?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spoke energetically as the occasion demanded, being, moreover, glad of
+an outlet. Before I had finished, however, she was back in her old
+position, with her face hidden from me by her hands. She puzzled me more
+than ever, for, after a long silence, she burst out, "Not my world,
+Oliver!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The phrase shot up like a spout of lava from some deep centre of molten
+thought. I pitied and loved her, but I was helpless. To make a diversion I
+looked at my watch and luckily it was the time when the picket at the top
+should be changed, so I went to the door and opened it. A splendid blare
+of piping came in from the camp-fire as I did so, and Margaret tripped to
+the door to listen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is it?" she asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Donald," said I. "He's one of the great masters of the pipes. I believe
+in the tale of Amphion and the walls of Thebes now, for this afternoon I
+saw Donald pipe some broken-down wagons out of the road."
+
+I went across to see to the change of picket, and when I got back into
+the hut I saw that the tension was over. I relit my pipe, sat down again
+at her side, and started a rapid series of questions as to what she had
+seen and heard during the retreat. Try how I would, nay, try as we would,
+we did not get back to our old footing. We were afraid of silences, and
+skipped from topic to topic at breakneck speed. We two who had sauntered
+together in the sunlight, now stumbled along in a mist.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last she said she must be going, and I went out and shouted to Donald
+to get Bimbo and the calash ready, and four men as an escort. When I got
+back to her, she arose, somewhat wearily, and I put the domino on fully
+and fitted the hood round her head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You see I've gone back to the domino, Oliver," she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's the very thing for a cold night and a dirty road," I replied
+cheerfully, stepping in front of her, a couple of paces off, to take my
+last look at her in the light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have never met a man who understands so much about women as you do,"
+she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, madam," I cried boisterously, and bowed so as to avoid her
+eyes. But when I was upright again, they caught mine once more, and
+something in them made me tremble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Or so little," she whispered, and she was pitifully white and miserable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If it had not been for what I saw between us--there, on the floor of
+crazed and trampled mud, I should have flung my arms around her. But I
+could not step over <i>that</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ta carrish iss ready," cried Donald from the door-sill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I packed her snugly in the calash and started two dragoons ahead. Bimbo
+clucked to his horse and was off. I walked a hundred yards by the side of
+the carriage till it was time to whistle for the other dragoons to start.
+Then I made Bimbo pull up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young moon was battling with great stacks of clouds, but just at that
+moment won a brief victory, and gave me a clear view of Margaret. She put
+out her hand, which she had not yet gloved, and I took it in mine, bowed
+my head over it, and kissed it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good night, Oliver," she whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good night, Margaret," I replied, and whistled shrilly to hide my
+emotions. Something sent her away with her eyes ashine and her face
+glorious with a smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dragoons clattered by, and I stood for a few minutes staring
+downhill. <i>And so little. Not my world. And so little. Not my world</i>.
+The words rang in my ears like a peal of bells. Then, by one of the odd
+tricks the mind plays us, I remembered that I had left the Hanyards for
+the work's sake, and that my love for Margaret could only be justified to
+myself--the only one who could ever know it--by my work. Over the black
+top there, down in the blacker valley, was the enemy, her enemy, nibbling
+up the space between us as a rabbit nibbles up a lettuce leaf. I closed my
+mind to the maddening chime, and started forthright to visit my picket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The road was flush with the bare windswept summit. The crumpled ground
+was matted with coarse grass, almost too poor for sheep-feed. The
+camp-fire still blazed; near it a bagpipe crooned; now and again a horse
+shook in its harness. The moon whipped out for a moment, and then it was
+pitch dark again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I stepped it out there was a rush at me from the grass, behind and to
+my left. Down I dropped full length, and a man shot over me and sprawled
+in the road, but he was quick and lithe as a cat, and was up before me,
+for my slung arm disadvantaged me. I could just see his sword poised for a
+cut as he fairly pounced on me. I dived outward as he jumped, and he
+missed me, but before I could get behind him he was round and at me again
+like a fury. I was weaponless and crippled, but if I could once get past
+his sword, it would be all over with him. The pace was so hot, and my mind
+was so bent on the work, that I did not call for aid. At last I tricked
+him, for in jumping aside I flung my hat hard in his face, and in a flash
+had my right hand at his throat. He jabbed at me with his left, and I
+twisted round to his right side, pressing his sword-arm against his body,
+and digging my fingers into his windpipe. I heard his sword drop, and felt
+him feeling for a pistol. He was as hard as a nail, and I began to dream
+that he would get me before I had choked him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald ended the matter. He, doglike in his fidelity, came striding down
+the road after me. The moon outpaced the clouds again. He saw us at our
+death-grips, and came on with a rush and a yell. He drove his dirk into
+the nape of the man's neck and twisted the blade in its ghastly socket. A
+sharp, sickening click--and the man dropped out of my fingers like a
+stone. The moon went in again, and hid the evil thing from us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pe she hurtit?" asked Donald anxiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not a scratch!" I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tat's goot! Carry 'er up to the fire," he added to three or four men who
+had run up on hearing his yell. "She's English and, maybe, she sall hae
+fine pickins on 'er."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stooped down, careless of a dead man as of a dead buck, and stropped
+his dirk clean and dry on the man's breeches. Then the men, equally
+indifferent, picked up the body and started off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"D'ye ken wha the chiel is?" asked Donald, as we walked after them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A certain sergeant of dragoons, or one of his men," I answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He winna fash ye ony more," said he. "Tat's a fine way of mine, when I
+can get behint a mon. I've killt mony a stot like it, shoost t' keep in
+the way of it." And he stabbed the air, twisted his wrist, and clicked
+delightedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The men dumped the body near the fire. One of them stooped down and was
+for putting his hand in the man's pocket, but drew it back as if he had
+thrust it by mischance into the flames.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I knew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have heard a mare squeal in a burning stable, but I have never heard
+agony in sound as I heard it there, on the top of Shap, when Donald flung
+himself across the dead body of his chief and foster-brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is one tender memory of this distressing scene. Neither by look,
+word, nor tone did Donald attach blame or responsibility to me. He
+recovered himself in a few minutes, and then stood up, and gave a brief
+command in Gaelic. Four awe-struck men spread a plaid on the ground,
+placed the dead body on it, and carried it into the hut. Donald, gravely
+silent, took the pipes from the man who had been playing, and followed
+them. I bared my head and went after him miserably.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maclachlan's body lay on the floor of the hut. The eyes were wide open,
+but on his fine composed face there was no trace of the agony and passion
+in which he had gone before his God. It was as if, in that last terrible
+second, some vision of beauty had swept his soul clean. I knelt down and
+reverently closed the staring eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Donald," said I, when I arose, "I would to God that you had killed me
+instead."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's weird," said he solemnly, "and weird mun hae way."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked at him closely. That he was struck to the heart was plain to
+see, but, the first uprush of grief over, he had become sober, steadfast,
+almost business-like, as if he had something great in hand to do, and
+would be doing it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took the candle, now only the length of my ring-finger, and stuck it
+on the narrow window-ledge. Again he spoke to the men in Gaelic, and they
+moved out of the hut. Turning to me, he said, "Com in when ta licht gaes
+oot!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had the right to be alone with his dead. I wrung his hand and left
+him. When I looked back from the doorway, he was filling his bag with
+wind, but stopped to say, "Weird mun hae way." And as he said it he smiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I crossed the road to the edge of the dip. More wood had been piled on
+the fire, which now blazed cheerfully. Most of the men lay asleep in their
+plaids, but a few stood guard over the horses, and the men who had carried
+the body into the hut were squatting on the grass by the roadside. I took
+my stand near them, and looked and listened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The terrible similarity of Donald's case to mine appalled me. Each of us,
+in saving another, had struck down in the darkness a man near and dear to
+him. Two good men and true had gone when the lust of life is sweetest and
+the will to live strongest. I, who three weeks ago had never seen human
+life taken, had taken it, and seen it taken, as if men were of no more
+account than cattle. Between the house-place of the Hanyards and the top
+of Shap, Death had become my familiar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For Maclachlan I had nothing but pity. He had thought that I stood
+between him and Margaret. Clearly he had learned of her coming back to me,
+and the thought had maddened him. He had disguised himself as an
+Englishman and come after me, and this was the end of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were my thoughts as I watched the flickering flame dropping nearer
+and nearer to the window-ledge, and listened to the pipes. Donald was
+inspired. He and the pipes were one. In his hands they became a living
+thing. What he felt, they felt. They wept as he wept, they gloried as he
+gloried, they triumphed as he triumphed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He began with a murmur of grief that grew into a wail, became a
+passionate tempest, and died into a prolonged sob. Then he changed his
+note as memory wandered backward. The music became tenderly reminiscent,
+subduedly cheerful. They were again boys together at their play, youthful
+hunters swinging over the mountains after the red deer; young men with the
+maidens; warriors on their first foray. The threads of life ran in and out
+through the pattern of sounds he was weaving, and the older days of
+fighting and victories followed as I listened. There was hurrying,
+marching, charging; the groan of defeat; the mad slogan of final victory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He's fechtin' the Macleans noo," cried out one of the men, who had some
+English, and the others chattered vigorously for a minute in their own
+Gaelic.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The candle was now guttering on the window-ledge. These glories over,
+Donald came hard up against the end of them all--the Chief dead at his
+feet, slain by his own hand. For a time he faltered, playing only in
+little, melancholy snatches. Then he got surer, and the music began to
+come in blasts. He was seeing his way, learning what it all meant to him
+and the Maclachlans. Weird mun hae way. Destiny must work itself out. We
+children of a day are helpless before it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The flame fell to a golden bead as the music grew in strength and
+purpose. There was a burst of light, a peal of triumph, and the music and
+the flame went out together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Across the road I raced, threw open the door, and rushed in. Everything
+was dark and still.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Donald!" I called passionately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no reply. I crept on tip-toe to the fire and kicked the embers
+into a flame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Donald was lying dead across the dead body of his Chief, his dirk buried
+to the hilt in his own heart.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+At daybreak we buried them side by side in one grave on the top of Shap,
+their feet pointing northward to their own mountains. When the last clod
+had been replaced, and a great boulder reverently carried up to mark the
+spot, I turned, covered my head, and prepared to go, but the men stood on.
+I looked back. They were loath to go. Something that should be done, had
+been left undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I divined what they had in mind, turned back, bared my head as they
+uncovered, and repeated the Lord's Prayer aloud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am thankful to this day to those men whom fools and bigots call
+savages. They taught me to pray again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Man Captain," said the one who had English, as we walked away in a body,
+"ye wad mak' a gran' meenister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could not withhold a smile, but before I could reply there was a
+scattered rattle of shots from the dip. Looking around, I saw a body of
+enemy horse on the lower hill across the valley to my left.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were overtaken. We should have to fight.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h2>
+
+<h3>MY LORD BROCTON PILES UP HIS ACCOUNT</h3>
+
+<p>
+On the tenth day of my captivity, hope glimmered for the first time. When
+a man has been penned up in a dull room for ten days, with
+half-a-hundred-weight of rusty iron shackling his wrists and ankles, with
+poor food, and little of it at that, to eat, he can extract comfort out of
+a trifle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my case the trifle was a smile, her first smile in ten days. So far
+she had been as sulky as she was shapeless, bringing me my poor meals
+either without saying a word or, at best, snapping me up and saying that I
+got far better treatment than a rebel deserved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She never told me her name, and I never learned it from any other source,
+so 'she' she must remain for me and my tale. She was perhaps thirty,
+perhaps five feet high, the shape of a black pudding, with stony, rather
+than ugly, features, and cruel, cat-like eyes. I hated her handsomely till
+she smiled at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was, I suppose, my jailer's daughter, or servant, or something of the
+sort. I never knew, and my ignorance does not matter. She brought me my
+food, spake or spake not, according to the degree of vileness in her
+prevailing humour, and went off, leaving me to my thoughts and my painful
+shamblings round my prison-chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My ignorance was limitless. I was a prisoner, and my prison was a room in
+a sizable farm-house with thick stone walls. Where the house was I had no
+idea other than that it could not be far from the place where I was taken,
+which, again, could not be far from the town of Penrith. There was one
+window in my cell, the sill of which was as high from the ground as my
+chin when standing upright. But I never stood upright, being jammed into a
+cross made of good, solid iron, foul with rust, and having bracelets at
+the tips for my ankles and wrists. It kept me a foot short of my full
+stretch. I could get my eye to the edge of the window and no farther, and
+then I saw much sky and a little desolate moorland running up into a
+gauntly-wooded hill country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I spent my waking hours thinking of Margaret and the others dreaming of
+her. Now was my chance to learn to do without her altogether. It would not
+be for long. I was in the Duke's clutches, and he would not let me go till
+my head rolled off my shoulders. Had I been free and with her, we should
+have been farther apart than before--by the width of Donald's grave. But
+here, parted for ever, with the block or the gallows just ahead of me,
+there was no bar to my lonely love. Time and time again she was so near to
+me, so vividly present to my imagination, that I stretched out my arms to
+grasp her. The shackles clanked, and I cursed myself for a fool, but I
+never cured myself of the habit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Because this is the dreariest time of my life, I have plumped right into
+the middle of it to get it over. And, indeed, there is little worth the
+telling between the top of Shap and her smile. I was in jail because I was
+no soldier. That, apparently, should go without saying, and if I had come
+to grief over some piece of important soldier-craft, no one would have
+been surprised and I should not have been to blame. It galls me, however,
+to have to confess that I was very properly caught, jailed, and ironed for
+not knowing what a dragoon was. A man ought to know that after being
+captain of a troop of the best for a fortnight, but I didn't. Being all
+for logic, the least useful thing in life, I had arrived at the conclusion
+that a soldier on horseback is a horse-soldier. So he is, except when he's
+a dragoon, as I found to my cost. If the bold Turnus or Mr.
+Pink-of-Propriety Aeneas had hit upon the dragoon idea, I should have
+known all about it, because it would have been in Virgil. Even the Master
+has his deficiencies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My Lord George Murray elected to fight at Clifton, a defendable place
+between Shap and Penrith. Just south of the bridge the road ran off the
+moor into the outskirts of the village, with a stone wall on one side and
+a high edge on the other. The enclosures on either side were packed with
+clansmen, and our wings stretched beyond on to the moor, here dissected
+into poor fields by straggling hedges.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel, the happiest man in England that day, had posted me across
+the road, right out on the moor, ready to gallop back at once with news of
+the enemy's approach. It was now quite dark, except when the moon rode
+free of the dense blotches of clouds that filled the sky. In one such
+glimpse of light, I caught sight of several bodies of horse on the moor to
+the east of the road. The regiment nearest to me wheeled to the left, and
+trotted obliquely across the road. Its direction made its purpose clear.
+It was feeling its way across our front to our flank on the west of the
+village. I rode back at once to report.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good lad!" said the Colonel, offering me his snuff-box. "It's just what
+we want 'em to do. Go where there's a bellyful for you! Fine soldiering
+that! The fool duke ought to pound us out into the open with his guns.
+Hope you'll enjoy your first fight, Oliver! It's a glorious game. Pity of
+it is the counters are so costly. Good luck, my dear lad!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went back to my men whom I had left in the covered way between the wall
+and the hedge. It being clear that the exact whereabouts of the regiment I
+had particularly observed was of great consequence, I rode out again with
+a couple of men, at the request of one of the chiefs, to see if I could
+make out what was happening. There was no trace of it. It should by now
+have been visible on my right, the moon being out again, but there was not
+a single trace of it. I could see the line of one hedge and beyond that
+another. The other regiments had not advanced and this one had disappeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perplexed, I halted my men, pulled the sorrel's head round and cantered
+slowly towards the nearer hedge. Then I learned that dragoons are
+horse-soldiers who fight on foot, behind hedges for choice. Half a dozen
+carbines rang out, the sorrel rolled over, and though I escaped the
+bullets and jumped clear of my horse, I was pounced on by a body of men
+and pulled ignobly through the hedge. I did everything doable, but they
+swarmed over me like ants, bore me down by weight of numbers, and sat on
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's him right enough," I heard one of them say. "Fetch the sergeant!
+There's a bit of fat in this, lads!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A minute later, I was hauled on to my feet. A seared face, with a
+dab-of-putty nose on it, leered delightedly into mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Got you, by G--!" he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had been captured by Brocton's dragoons. Now we should come to points.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without another word to me, and after a savage injunction to the men to
+see I did not escape on peril of their lives, he went off and fetched his
+lordship. They came running back together as if the greatest event
+imaginable had happened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ha! Master Wheatman," cried my lord very happily, "this is indeed a
+sight for sore eyes."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To be sure," said I, "your lordship's were pretty bad the last time I
+saw them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He made no retort, being indeed too excited to notice pin-pricks, but
+ordered the sergeant to take me to the rear under a strong guard. "Make
+sure of him!" he cried, and added in a lower tone, as I moved off under
+the combined pull and push of my captors, "Make sure of it." He then went
+off to his own place in the line.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant did not come with us, and I had been tugged nearly to the
+second hedge before he overtook us. To my astonishment he was carrying my
+saddle on his head, where, in the dim light, it looked like a gigantic
+bonnet. He swore at the men for loitering, and on we went to the second
+hedge. We struck it at a point where there was neither gate nor gap, but
+the dragoons bashed it down with their carbines and trampled it down with
+their boots, and so made a way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two of the men were through, and I was being hauled through, when there
+was a spattering of shots from behind. Over the noise a stentorian voice
+called out "Claymores!" It was the Highland warcry, and, with
+reverberating yells, the clansmen poured out of the nearer enclosure to
+attack the dragoons lining the hedge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant drew his sword, and, as we raced on again, struck viciously
+with the flat of it at his men to make them run faster. A queer figure he
+cut in the moonlight as he raced along, swearing and slashing, with the
+skirts of the saddle flapping against his lean ribs. At last we got out on
+a poor road lined with trees and turned south along it. There was urgent
+need for him to haste now, for Brocton's dragoons had been cut out of
+their cover and were being pushed back to the hedge we had just left. The
+sergeant halted a moment to take stock of the situation, and then we
+hurried on again. Every time he struck a man for lazy running, the man in
+his turn paid me with punch or kick. After a mile or so, the avenue made
+an abrupt turn to the east and brought us out on the main road in the rear
+of the Duke's army.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The moon showed us a little cottage, standing off from the road in a poor
+plot of ground. The sergeant led the way up to it, turned the cottager and
+his family out of it into a shed, and set two men without as sentries. He
+then made the others strip me to the skin and examined every shred of
+clothing, ripping out the linings and even cutting my boots to pieces.
+Finding nothing, he flung me the rags to put on again, and then cut the
+saddle to pieces and searched that. I knew now why William had so nearly
+lost his vail and Donald had been obliged to steal me another saddle. The
+sergeant wanted, the letter and papers I had taken from him at the "Ring
+of Bells." He was so keen that he omitted to pouch any of my belongings,
+and I retained my money, Donald's watch, and the priceless strip of
+bloodstained linen. My tuck and pistols were naturally taken from me on my
+capture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Any luck?" I asked quizzingly, when he at last gave over the search.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Too furious or too cautious to reply, he brutally kicked a dragoon whom
+he caught smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a miserable drag of some two hours, a fresh dragoon came with a
+message, whereon the sergeant conducted me to the presence of the Duke,
+who was quartered in a large house in the village. The Lord Brocton, the
+Lord Mark Kerr, and other officers were with him, and also several ladies
+who would have been more at home in Vauxhall. For a minute or two I was
+unheeded, and the sergeant could hardly keep himself sufficiently stiff
+and awkward. His Grace was in the sourest of humours for, as the talk
+showed, he had been beaten. The claymores had taken the conceit out of him
+finely. He finished the subject with a string of oaths and then made an
+unprintable inquiry of Brocton concerning me. The ladies tittered
+profusely, and the most powdery one vowed that His Grace was a great wag.
+In further proof of this he snatched a feather near a yard long out of her
+pompom, and fanned himself with it while he examined me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This ducal waggishness gave me time to observe that the sergeant's
+uneasiness was icy coldness in comparison with his lordship's. He was
+uncertain of speech; his face was the colour of pea-soup; he looked
+anxiously, almost affrightedly, at me. He grew plainly more comfortable as
+the Duke failed to get any information out of me beyond the fact that the
+weather was cold. Finally, when the sergeant was ordered to keep me at his
+peril till such time as I could be lodged in Carlisle jail, Brocton
+greedily tossed off a bumper of wine and laughed aloud at some vulgar
+sally from a lady in a green paduasoy. On leaving I bowed to the Duke. He
+was a vigorous, able man with the manners and morals of a bull.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brocton followed the sergeant out. There was a consultation between them
+of which I heard nothing, but the result was that the sergeant picked up a
+man as guide who was waiting at the front door, obviously for the purpose,
+and took me through and beyond the village to a house on the roadside. The
+place was of fair size, built of rough slabs of stone, and evidently a
+farm-house. The owner was a lumpish, ungainly fellow, astonishingly
+bow-legged. He had a little yapping dog, which jumped backwards and
+forwards between his knees like a trick-dog through a hoop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Preparations had been made for my coming, "by his lordship," as the
+farmer blabbed out. I was taken upstairs to a back room, ironed, in the
+way I have described, by the parish constable, who had been prayed in aid
+for the job, and locked in in the dark. I heard a sentry posted without
+the door and another beneath the window. It was some consolation, and I
+needed all I could get, to know I was so prized. There was a rough bed in
+the room. I tumbled on it, wondered for a few minutes what Margaret would
+be thinking of it all, and then went to sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning I made her acquaintance to this extent that she brought me a
+jug of thin ale, a lump of horse-bread and a slab of cheese. Her looks
+froze my affability, but she does not become important till she smiled,
+and I need say no more about her at present.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw no other person till nightfall of the third day, when the door
+opened and the little dog hopped through his accustomed gap into the room,
+and was followed by his master carrying a lighted tallow candle in a rusty
+iron candlestick. This imported something unusual, as I was not allowed a
+light, and it turned out to be a visit from my Lord Brocton. He ordered
+the sentry to follow the farmer downstairs, and examined the door
+carefully to see if it was closed thoroughly. I sat on the edge of the bed
+and hummed a brisk air with a fine pretence of indifference.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat down on the one chair there was, placed his hat on the table, and
+said, "I am sorry to see you in this place and condition, Mr. Wheatman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of course you know there's only one end of it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," I replied, and hummed a stave of "Lillibullero."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He leaned forward and said impressively, "The gibbet, Mr. Wheatman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+
+"Draughty places!" said I, smiling, as I thought of Nance Lousely. "I can
+feel the wind whistling through my bones."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are pleased to be facetious, sir. It does credit, I must say, to
+your nerves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are pleased to be sympathetic, my lord," I riposted, "whereby you do
+no credit to my common sense."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took short breaths and then reflected a minute or two, during which I
+clinked a soft tattoo with my iron wristlets, and eyed him joyously. He
+was there--a free lordling, I was here--a chained rebel, but I had him set.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have a proposal to make to you, Mr. Wheatman," he said at length.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am indeed honoured, but be careful, my lord! It's not in the least
+likely, I fear, to be a proposal which you would like the sentry beneath
+the window to overhear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are plain and blunt," he said, leaning forward and speaking in a low
+tone, "and I will be the same. Return me all the papers you took from my
+sergeant at the 'Ring of Bells,' and I will see that you escape and get
+clear of the country."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The different personal ends for which you are anxious to turn traitor
+seem innumerable, my lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He met the taunt as if it had been a flip with a straw, and only said,
+"Is it a bargain?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is not," I replied emphatically.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If his life rather than his lands had depended on the recovery of the
+letter he could not have been more eager. For a long time he pleaded and
+wrestled with me; arguing, bullying, imploring, threatening, turn and turn
+about, but to no result. I would not go back on my casual word to Master
+Freake. The letter was important to him, and he would save Margaret and
+the Colonel, and me too, when the inevitable hour of need should come at
+last. Money was power, and lands were more than money. Acres meant votes,
+and with votes at your command you had ministers at your beck. I was sure
+of Master Freake. Why bother about my lord Brocton?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last he played his last card. "You shall have the Upper Hanyards back
+again, Master Wheatman," he quavered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rascal earl, his father, had juggled more than a thousand acres of
+the Hanyards away from my father by some musty process of law and a venal
+bench. The reference angered me, and I cried loudly, "You shall not have
+it back at any price!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked at the window, and paled as he thought of the sentinel ears
+without. Then he went off, vomiting curses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That day week, she brought me a shepherd's pie for dinner, very well made
+too, and a mug of ale not wholly unworthy of the name. She put them down,
+looked at me in a measure womanly, and smiled. It was a root of promise
+and fruit would follow. Any change would be welcome. I was ragged, dirty,
+galled, cramped, and bearded with a red stubble. She called me 'Carrots'
+in derision.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was right. At evening she brought me up a dish of tea, and when I
+lifted it off the table to take a drink of it, there was beneath it a
+paper folded letter-fashion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I steadied myself, drank my tea with only moderate haste, and then
+cautiously palmed my treasure and walked to the window. Standing with my
+back to the door, so that the sentry, who was given to popping his head in
+to have a look at me, could not catch me unawares, I opened the paper. It
+was a letter. It was written by a woman. The woman was Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You will be taken to-morrow to Carlisle. On the way friends will rescue
+you and bring you to me. Fear nothing, say nothing, and all will be well.
+Till to-morrow, dear Oliver. Destroy this. MARG. W."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It went hard against the grain to destroy this precious missive. I hid in
+the corner, and kissed it ravenously a hundred times. How straight and
+true the pen had ploughed its way across the paper! It was just such
+writing as I had expected of her, the resolute escription of her sweet,
+resolute self. Nor was the problem of destroying it easy to solve, since I
+had no fire, and there was no sure hiding-place accessible to my manacled
+hands. I mastered the difficulty heroically by eating the letter with my
+bread and butter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was even harder to pretend to be dull and sluggish with such a whirl
+of happy thoughts in my mind. I was her "dear Oliver," dear enough to make
+her risk her own life in saving mine. That she would plan wisely and
+execute swiftly, there was no shadow of doubt. This time tomorrow we
+should be together again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The night dragged through at last, and the first glimmer of dawn found me
+alert and hopeful. She brought my usual breakfast at the usual time, and
+smiled again, but put her finger on her lips to warn me to be silent and
+careful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She went downstairs, and left to myself again, I grew furious to think
+that Margaret would see me so, a regular wild man of the woods--<i>quantum
+mutatus ab illo Hectare</i>. But my ravings ceased at the sound of
+preparations without. My room was at the back of the house, but I heard
+the noise of wheels, and hoof-beats, and the harsh swearing of the
+sergeant. By and by he came noisily upstairs, burst into my room, and
+curtly ordered me downstairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Blithely I followed him. Try how I would I could not hide my joy, and,
+seeing that he noted it, I said in explanation, "Anything for a change,
+sergeant!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll wish yourself back here soon enough, blast ye!" he growled.
+"We'll stretch your neck for you till your eyes drop out, you swine!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You dear, good, Christian soul!" I simpered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For answer, he kicked me savagely, and then bundled me downstairs, out of
+the house, and into the road. Here a two-horsed coach was in waiting, with
+two dragoons and a corporal in front and two more behind. One of the rear
+men was holding a horse, and to my annoyance the sergeant got into the
+coach after me, bawled out a command, and off our party started.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stumbled into a corner and sat huddled up, straining my eyes ahead to
+catch what was to come. Margaret's information was clearly correct. We
+took the road north, passed through Penrith without a halt, and out again,
+still on the turnpike, proof that Carlisle was to be our destination. The
+city was obviously now in the Duke's power.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mile after mile we covered apace, and at every curve and cross-road I
+peered ahead and around with my heart in my mouth. One point in my favour
+was the desolate nature of the country, exactly fitted for such a
+stratagem as was in hand. On the right the gloomy sky was blotted out by
+jagged masses of gloomier hills. On the left the country varied between
+flat and upland, but was hardly less uninviting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Where d'ye think y're going?" asked the sergeant, joggling me with his
+spurred heel to make me look at him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No idea," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blast ye. I wish y'had," he growled viciously, and I turned away to smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We passed through a village littered with the Duke's baggage wagons and
+pretty full of soldiery. This chilled my spirit somewhat, for it looked as
+if we were about to run into the rear of the Royal army. Outside the
+village, however, we again had the road to ourselves, and a mile farther
+on dropped to a walk to climb a long slant of road.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whenever the road curved my way I had seen the corporal and his two men
+riding from fifty to a hundred yards ahead of us. Not very far up the
+slope we came on a farmstead lying flush on the roadside. In the yard were
+some thirty head of shaggy black cattle, of the northern kind seldom seen
+in our parts and therefore attractive to a farmer's eye. A farm-hand
+leaning over the gate had some noisy gossip with the dragoons as they
+passed, and bawled his news to a group of men sitting at meat under a
+hovel. It was a poor enough place to support so many men, for the
+farm-wife, who came to her kitchen door to see what the clatter was about,
+was of no better seeming than a yokel's wife with us. My eyes were on her
+curiously when the man on the gate skipped off and flung it open right
+across the muzzles of our horses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the tick of a clock the whole scene changed. The men under the hovel
+rushed out, fell on the cattle, thrashed them mercilessly with great
+battoons, yelled at them like maniacs, and drove them in a shoving,
+bellowing, maddened mass into the road, which here had a stone wall on the
+side opposite the farm. When the torrent was fairly going, two of the
+supposed yokels snatched up carbines, climbed on to the hovel, and opened
+fire on the dragoons in our rear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The master hand of the Colonel was in this beyond a doubt. With a loud
+curse, the sergeant, who was on the side away from the farm, opened the
+door and was for leaping out. He bethought himself and half turned, one
+hand on the door and one foot on the step, to look an evil inquiry at me.
+That half-turn was his undoing. Part of the living, struggling torrent of
+cattle was shoved round our way and came sweeping by. One beast brushed
+the door open even as he glared at me and tumbled him outwards. As he
+twisted in his fall another drove her sharp horns clean into him, and
+shook and twirled him off again like a terrier playing with a rat. The
+rearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off the
+scene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging after
+them. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked to
+perfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied and
+happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My rescuers took no notice of me but ran down the road in a body and
+stood round the sergeant. After some excited talk they carried him back,
+called on me to aid, and rammed him into the coach, where he lay huddled
+on the seat in front of me. Without so much as a word to me, the commander
+pulled our driver off the box, ordered a man up in his place, climbed
+after him, and said briefly, "Go like the devil!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The carriage turned up a rough lane which ran eastward out of the high
+road opposite the farm, leaving most of my rescuers standing uncertain in
+a group. The driver cut his horses savagely with his whip, and we went at
+a hard gallop. The jolting tumbled me about in the coach, and I had hard
+work, shackled as I was, to keep the sergeant on the seat. He was still
+alive, though so hideously injured that death could only be a question of
+minutes. Where we were going and why they were carrying him along with us,
+were questions it was useless to bother about. Margaret would explain
+everything when we met. I could make little of the men who had rescued me.
+They were clearly not farm-hands, for they were well armed, the guns I had
+seen looked to me to be military carbines, and they had carried through
+their business briskly and intelligently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I heard the men on the box talking, but their speech was only about the
+road and the speed. The country got rougher and wilder; the distant hills
+were losing their clear-cut, rolling outlines, and becoming neighbours and
+obstacles. The horses were thrashed unmercifully, but at times even the
+well-plied whip could get no more than a crawl out of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant's end was at hand. He rallied, as men commonly do before
+they put foot in the black river, and looked at me unrecognizingly. He
+closed his eyes again, and began to writhe and mutter strange words.
+Suddenly he cried plainly, "Curse the swine! Another wedge, ye damned
+chicken-heart!" He looked at me again, and this time made out who I was,
+and cursed loathsomely in his disappointment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"D'ye know where y're going?" he ended, leering wickedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Blast ye! I wish ye did!" He gurgled this almost jocosely, as if it were
+a pet bit of humour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do you know where you are going?" I asked solemnly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To hell," he cried, and, after a spout of blood that spattered me as I
+leaned over him, went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The carriage stopped and, before I could rise to see why, the door was
+opened and some one without said politely, "This is indeed a pleasure,
+Master Wheatman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was my lord Brocton.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+It would be foolish to pretend that I was not bitten to the bone, and I
+can only hope that I did not give outward expression to a tithe of the
+chagrin and dismay that possessed me. Being commanded to do so, I got out
+of the coach without a word and looked around.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rough road along which we had been travelling ran on through a slit
+in the hills. Where we stood a bridle-path parted from it at a sharp angle
+and made its way over the lower skirts of the hill country. It was a
+desolate, dreary spot where, as I suspected, the king's writ ran not and
+where, therefore, a man might be done to death with all conveniency.
+Master Freake would be useless to me now, and my chiefest enemy had me at
+his will.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no delay. A long cloak was put over me, so disposed as to hide
+my fetters, and I was lifted on a spare horse led by one of the
+new-comers. The skill with which the affair had been planned was shown by
+the fact that this horse, to accommodate my shackled legs, had been
+saddled as for a lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You know exactly what to do?" asked his lordship of the men on the coach.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, my lord," said one of them, "but what about--" He finished the
+sentence by a jerk of his thumb towards the dead sergeant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Leave him there! Egad, Master Wheatman, is not that a touch of the real
+artist?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The key of these things is in his breeches' pocket," said I, speaking
+for the first time, and waggling my fetters as I did so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Get it out, Tomlins!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man who had asked the question climbed down and obeyed the order with
+the callousness of a dog nosing a dead rabbit. Then our parties separated.
+The coach continued along the main road, if so it may be called, and we
+took to the track. I looked curiously after the coach, wondering where it
+was bound, and with what object.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"More art," said his lordship. "A coach is a seeable, trackable thing,
+and it will throw everybody off the scent. I'm glad the ruffian's dead. He
+was overmuch wise in my affairs."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As we rode on into the interminable wastes, he rallied me gleefully, but
+soon tired of my moroseness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"His arrival will make an affecting picture," he said mockingly to his
+men. He was feverishly excited, and must boast to some one. "No pliant
+damsel to rush into his longing arms! He is to be embraced though, my
+masters, if need be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What this obscure threat might portend, I could not see, but it chimed in
+with the delirious cruelty of the dead sergeant. Threats for the future
+mattered not, the present being so unendurable. A man in Brocton's
+position must be hard put to it to turn traitor in this strange fashion.
+He had "rescued" me with his own men, and, lord or no lord, he would hang
+for it were it once known to a lover of the gibbet like the Duke's Grace
+of Cumberland. What on earth was the letter about? Master Freake had
+definitely said lands, and therefore lands it must be, though nothing less
+than the whole Ridgeley estates could be in question. The thousand and
+more acres of the Upper Hanyards, sweet meadows stretching a mile along
+the river and a snatch of the chase at its wildest and loveliest, the
+prize that had fallen to the rascal earl in the great lawsuit, had been
+promised me as readily as a pinch of snuff. I gloated over the revenge I
+was winning for my race, a race rooted in those darling Hanyards a century
+before the Ridgeleys were heard of, for the first earl, the grandfather of
+the old rogue, started as an obscure pimp to Charles the Second, and was
+enriched and ennobled for his assiduity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But no familiary pride could cheer me for long. The dead landscape around
+chilled me. The chiefest misery was to remember the hope with which I had
+started that morning. Margaret was the fancied end of my journey, and the
+real end was this! I had to bite my lips till I felt the trickle of blood
+in the stubble on my chin to keep back unmanly revilings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last we came out on what was by comparison a made road, and now his
+lordship grew plainly anxious and haggard. We rode madly along it, so
+that, riding shackled and woman-fashion, I had hard work to keep my seat.
+Brocton's head was incessantly on the turn to see if we were observed, but
+his luck was absolute. We saw no one on the road, and, after a hard
+stretch, we turned up a gully to our left and were once more buried among
+the hills.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After much turning and twisting we came in sight of a small house of grey
+stone which, from its appearance and situation, I judged to be some
+gentleman's shooting lodge. We cut across the valley, on one slope of
+which it stood, and I caught a glimpse of cottage roofs beyond it. We
+worked round to the rear of the house, and, in a favouring clump of trees,
+his lordship called a halt. The horses were tethered, and I was lifted
+down, and the rings round my ankles were unlocked. The men took one each,
+and carried their carbines in their free hands. Brocton drew his rapier,
+and said, "Forward! Make a sound, show the slightest sign of resistance,
+and I run you through."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no sense in disobeying, and I accommodated myself to his
+design, which was clearly to get into the house unobserved from without.
+In this he was successful, or at any rate I saw no one during our crawl
+from one point of vantage to another up to the back entrance. Now his
+lordship skipped gaily from behind me and opened the door. He stepped
+softly in, and I was pushed after him by his dragoons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'Friends will rescue you and bring you to me,'" he quoted, jeering me.
+"There's no Margaret for you, Farmer Wheatman. I shall have her yet!"
+Then, beast as he was, while the men kept me back, nearly tearing my arms
+out of their sockets, he stuck the point of his rapier over my heart and
+babbled half-delirious beastliness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were in a big, bare kitchen, the other door of which was closed. There
+was no sign of anyone about, and Brocton, still with his sword ready for
+me, bawled out, "Where are you, you old hag?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The door opened at once. Brocton dropped his sword in his fright and I
+clapped my foot on it. The two men fled like rabbits. Familiar as the
+picture is to my mind, it is hard to find words to fit this crowning
+moment of my adventures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret walked into the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a second she was minded to rush at me, but thought better of it, and
+walked up to his lordship. She towered over his limp, cringing figure, and
+said coldly, "You are too poor a cur to be struck by a woman or I would
+strike you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was not alone. Master Freake was now wringing my shackled hands
+delightedly, and a little, deft man, whom I knew on sight to be Dot
+Gibson, was searching his unresisting lordship's pockets for the key of
+the irons. A minute later he banged them on the floor and said, "And how
+do you find yourself, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There's no more to be said about Brocton. He was as good as dead for the
+remainder of the business, and no one heeded him any more than if he had
+been a loathsome insect that a man's foot had trodden on. And what killed
+him was the presence of a third man, a perfect stranger to me. He was an
+old-looking rather than an old man, with rheumy eyes that looked through
+narrow slits, and a big unshapely nose; the skin of his face was brown and
+crinkled like a dried-up bladder; his whole appearance as a man was mean
+and paltry. What distinction he had was given him by gorgeous clothing and
+the attendance of a pompous ass in a flaming livery. Yet Brocton dared not
+look at him again, as he shuffled forward on his man's arm to speak to
+Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Freake," he piped, laying an imploring hand on the merchant's arm,
+"you will not be too hard on my foolish son?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the old rascal Earl of Ridgeley. I had not seen him since the
+trial, when I was but a lad. In the meantime vice had eaten out of him
+such manliness as had ever been in him. Rascaldom was still stamped on
+him, but he was now in a state of abject terror. He and his son were
+indeed, as Jane puts it to this day, two to a pair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Your lordships will be pleased to wait on me in the room yonder," said
+Master Freake, in his grave, decisive way, "and I will tell you my will on
+the matter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bowed ironically towards the door. Their unlordly lordships went off
+together, and he followed and closed the door behind him. Dot sensibly
+hustled off the lackey, and so we were alone together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As ever, I had my full reward. She turned to me, took my hands in hers,
+and whispered, "My splendid Oliver!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What, madam?" said I, laughing lest I should do otherwise and most
+unbecomingly. "In a red beard?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You look like a Cossack!" she declared, laughing in her turn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So, in the way we had, we kept ourselves at arm's length from each other
+and dropped at once into our old footing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, bit by bit, and unwillingly, and mainly in answers to my questions,
+she told a tale that made my heart bound within me. This is the mere
+skeleton of it, for I have no skill to give body and soul to such devotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel brought the news of my capture by Brocton, pieced together
+from the stories of my men, who got back unhurt, and of one of Brocton's
+dragoons who was luckily taken prisoner in order to be questioned.
+Margaret had immediately started on horseback for London, with one English
+servant in attendance, going by Appleby to evade the Duke's army, and
+across the mountains to Darlington. There she had travelled flying post
+down the great north road, getting to London in five days thirteen hours
+after her start from Penrith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Freake had started back with her within five hours of her arrival.
+They travelled post through Leicester and Derby, and then on over ground
+that was familiar. No wonder I had thought her near, since she had passed
+within fifty paces of me as I shambled about dreaming of her. Part of the
+five hours' delay in London was taken up by a visit paid by Master Freake
+to the Earl of Ridgeley. He had gone forth stern and resolute. What had
+happened she did not know, but as they sped north the Earl sped north a
+mile behind them, as if they were dragging him along by his heart-strings.
+At Carlisle, now in the hands of the Duke, they drew blank, for Brocton
+was unaccountably absent from military duty. Fortunately Margaret, from
+the window of her room, saw the sergeant ride by. Dot was sent on his
+track and learned that Brocton was here, the house being a hunting-lodge
+belonging to a crony of his who was an officer in the Cumberland militia.
+They had ridden out that morning to see him, at which point her tale
+linked up with mine and ended.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am greatly indebted to you, Margaret," said I, very lamely, slipping
+out her name at unawares.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nonsense!" she cried. "May I not do as much as your pet ghostie did for
+you without being a miracle? Do not you dare, sir, to offer me a
+pinnerfull of guineas!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She looked at me with a merry twinkle in her eyes, and I feel sure I knew
+what she was thinking of. But Nance Lousely was a simple country maiden,
+such as I was born and bred amongst, and at that time I had no vile red
+stubble, rough as a horse-comb, on my chin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were interrupted by the lackey, who came with Mr. Dot Gibson's
+respects to his honour, and would his honour like the refreshment of a
+shave and a bath as both were at his service? Like master, like man. This
+resplendent person was for the nonce humility's self. I went with him and
+was made clean and comfortable, and my rags trimmed a little.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was preliminary to being summoned by Master Freake to a discussion
+with their lordships, with whom was Margaret, aloof and icy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At the 'Ring o' Bells,'" began Master Freake, addressing me, "you took
+from my lord Brocton's sergeant, now dead, a bundle of papers?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Among them a letter addressed simply, 'To His Royal Highness'?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is so, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You gave that letter to me, unopened, in the presence of Mistress
+Waynflete?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did," said I, and Margaret nodded agreement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Several attempts have been made to recover the letter from you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At least three such attempts were made by the late sergeant, and two by
+my lord Brocton," I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Their lordships' urgent need of recovering the letter is thus proven,
+and the Court will attach due weight to the facts," said Master Freake.
+Brocton turned white as a sheet, and the old rogue shook as a dead leaf
+shakes on its twig before the wind strips it off. There was in them none
+of the family pride which keeps the great families agoing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I opened the letter. I mastered its contents. I still have it,"
+continued Master Freake, every sentence, like the crash of a
+sledge-hammer, making these craven bystanders shake at the knees. "It is
+deposited, sealed up again, with a sure friend, who has instructions,
+unless I claim it in person on or before the last day of this year, to
+deliver it in person to the King. At present no one knows its contents
+except my lord Brocton who wrote it, and I who read it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank God!" ejaculated the rascal old earl fervently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Egad," thought I to myself. "It's the Ridgeley estates no less."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will call it, for the purposes of our discussion," said Master Freake
+soothingly, "a letter about certain lands."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes! Yes! Certainly! A letter about lands! So it was!" cried the Earl
+eagerly, and Brocton began to look less like a coward on the scaffold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Would you prefer any other designation or description, my lords?"
+inquired Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I'm quite satisfied, my good Master Freake," babbled the Earl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What lands?" I burst out, unable to hold in my curiosity any longer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The lands known as the Upper Hanyards in the county of Staffordshire,"
+replied Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well I'm ----," cried I, in amazement, but pulling up in time, and
+Margaret's blue eyes were as wide open as mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are, Master Oliver Wheatman," said Master Freake, "the future,
+rightful owner of the ancient estate of your family in all its former
+amplitude; and all arrearages of rents and incomings as from the
+thirteenth of April, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two, with
+compound interest at the rate of ten per cent per annum, together with a
+compensation for disturbance and vexation caused to you and yours,
+provisionally fixed in the sum of two thousand pounds. The Earl of
+Ridgeley, smitten to the heart by the remembrance of his roguery and
+knavery, has agreed to make this full restitution. Am I right, my lord?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Absolutely, Master Freake, if you please," whined the rascal old earl.
+"My God, I'm a ruined man!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, my lord," said Master Freake, "if you lose your lands and moneys,
+and I will not bate an acre or a guinea of the full tale, you and your son
+will at least retain what, as I see, you both value more highly. The
+restitution is to be made by you to me personally, so that we can avoid
+quibbles about Oliver's legal position, he being a rebel confessed, and
+the day after he is inlawed I will in my turn convey the property in both
+kinds to him. When the restitution has been fully and legally made,
+without speck or flaw in title, and passed as such by my lawyers, the
+letter will be returned to you sealed as now, and of course I shall be
+rigidly silent on the matter. Your lordships," he ended coldly, "may start
+for London at once to see to the matter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old earl started for the door eagerly, calling down on his son dire
+and foul curses. Brocton looked poisonously at me before following, and I
+knew I had not done with him yet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've got you your lands, Oliver, but there has been no time to get you
+pardoned. The King was at Windsor; every moment was precious; and there
+was no use, in the temper of the town, in dealing with underlings. It will
+not do to run any risk of your being retaken, for Cumberland loves
+blood-letting, and is no friend of mine. We shall take you to a little
+fishing village on the Solway and get you a cast over to Dublin, whither
+my good ship, "Merchant of London," Jonadab Kilroot, Master, outward bound
+for the Americas, will pick you up. When we all meet again in London, in a
+few months, you will be pardoned. Margaret and I must now follow her
+father. The Stuart cause is smashed to pieces."
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+Late that night I stood with Margaret on the end of a jetty in a little
+fishing village on the Cumberland coast. Master Freake was giving final
+instructions to the owner of a herring-buss that was creaking noisily
+against the side of the jetty under the swell of the tide. Dot was busily
+handing to one of her crew of two certain packages for my use.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We stood together, and she had linked her arm in mine. We who had been so
+close together for a month were now to have an ocean put between us. Not
+that that mattered to me, already separated from her by something wider
+than the Atlantic, a lonely unnamed grave away there in Staffordshire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly she called to Dot, and he, as knowing just what she wanted,
+brought her a box. She loosed her arm from mine and took it from him, and
+when I would in turn have relieved her of it, she gently refused.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver," she said, in quiet, firm tones, "you met me when I was in grave
+danger and immediately, like the gallant gentleman you are, left mother
+and home to do me service."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was the privilege of my life, madam," I said earnestly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You have sweetened your service by so regarding it, giving greatly when
+you gave. And, sir, that service put me in your debt. You see that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is like you to say so. What of it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The time came when you were in danger, and I, in my turn, left my father
+and rode hard to save you. I am not boasting, you understand, sir. I am
+merely stating a fact. I rendered service for service, like for like, did
+I not, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You did, madam, and did it splendidly," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, sir, when we meet again," she said, and she was now speaking very
+clearly and sweetly, looking me full in the eyes, potent in all her beauty
+and queenliness, "when we meet again, we meet on level terms."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are you ready, lad?" called Master Freake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Coming, sir!" I cried, almost glad at heart of the escape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One moment, Oliver!" said Margaret. "So anxious to be rid of me? Nay, I
+jest of course! I've a little present for you here, Oliver. It will, I
+hope, make you think of me at times."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It will not," I replied, smiling. "It will make me think oftener of you,
+that's all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She handed me the box, and we walked up to the boat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The half-moon was bright in an unclouded sky, and it showed me tears on
+Margaret's cheeks, as I bent to clasp and kiss her hand. Then I said
+good-bye to Master Freake and Dot, and was helped into the boat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So we parted, and I set my face toward the New World. For ten weary
+months there is nothing to be said that belongs of right and necessity to
+my story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Except this: The first thing I did when I was alone in my cabin on the
+good ship, the "Merchant of London," was to open Margaret's box. It
+contained a full supply of books wherefrom to learn "the only language one
+can love in," and on the fly-leaf of a sumptuous "Dante" she had written,
+"From Margaret to Oliver."
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h2>
+
+<h3>I SETTLE MY ACCOUNT WITH MY LORD BROCTON</h3>
+
+<p>
+Of how I fared the seas with Jonadab Kilroot, master of the stolid
+barque, "Merchant of London," I say nothing, or as good as nothing. Master
+Kilroot was a noisy, bulky man, with a whiff of the tar-barrel ever about
+him and a heart as stout as a ship's biscuit. He feared God always, and
+drubbed his men whenever it was necessary; in his estimation the office of
+sea-captain was the most important under heaven, and Master John Freake
+the greatest man on earth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ship remained at anchor in Dublin harbour while tailors and tradesmen
+of all sorts fitted me out, for Master Freake had given me guineas enough
+for a horse-load. I did very well, for Dublin is a vice-regal city, with a
+Parliament of its own and reasonable society, so that the modes and
+fashions are not more than a year or so behind London, which did not
+matter to a man going to the Americas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Dublin I wrote home. I had laid one strict injunction on Margaret.
+She was not to go to the Hanyards, or write there, or allow anyone else to
+do either. I would not suffer her to know, or to run any chance of
+knowing, about Jack. She was greatly troubled over the matter, but I was
+so decided that she consented to my demand. It cost me a world of pains to
+write. I wrote, rewrote, and tore up scores of letters. Finally I merely
+sent them word that I was going to America to wait till the trouble was
+blown over, and that I should be with them again as soon as possible. I
+gave them no address. It was cowardly, but I could not bring myself to it.
+The nightmare that haunted me was my going home, home to our Kate, the
+sweetest sister man ever had, with her young heart wrapped for ever in
+widow's weeds. I used to dream that I rode up to the yard-gate on Sultan,
+and every time, in my dream, the Hanyards looked so desolate and
+woebegone, as if the very barns and byres were mourning for the dear dead
+lad who had played amongst them, that I pulled Sultan round and spurred
+him away till he flew like the wind, and I woke up in a cold sweat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On a Wednesday morning in the middle of February the "Merchant of London"
+swung into Boston Harbour on a full tide and was moored fast by the Long
+Wharf. Master Kilroot hurried me ashore to the house of the great Boston
+merchant, Mr. Peter Faneuil, to whom I carried a letter from Master
+Freake. It was enough. My friend's protecting arm reached across the
+Atlantic, and if it were part of my plan to tell at length of my doings in
+the New World, I should have much to say about this worthy merchant of
+Boston. He was earnest and assiduous in his kindness, and so far as my
+exile was pleasant he made it so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Faneuil was urgent that I should take up my abode with him, but this
+I gratefully declined, and he thereon recommended me to lodge with the
+widow of a ship-captain who had been drowned in his service. So I took
+lodging with her at her house in Brattles Street, and she made me very
+comfortable. She had a daughter, a pretty frolic lass of nine, who
+promoted me uncle the first day, and one negro slave, who was the autocrat
+of the establishment till my coming put his nose out of joint, as we say
+in Staffordshire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Master Kilroot unshipped most of his inward cargo and sailed away for
+Carolina and Virginia to get rice and tobacco. Then he would come back
+here to make up his return cargo with dried fish, to be exchanged at
+Lisbon for wine for England. This was his ordinary round of trade, and a
+very profitable traffic it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he had left, I settled down to make my exile profitable. By a great
+slice of luck there was at this time in Boston an Italian, one Signor
+Zandra, who gave lessons in his native tongue openly and in the art of
+dancing secretly. The wealth of the town was growing apace; there was a
+leisured class, and, speaking generally, the Bostonians were alert of mind
+and desirous of knowledge above any other set of men I have ever lived
+among. In the near-by town of Cambridge there was a vigorous little
+university with more than a hundred students. Moreover, there was a rising
+political spirit which gave me a keen interest in the men who breathed the
+quick vital air of this vigorous new England. In many respects I found
+myself back in the times of Smite-and-spare-not Wheatman, captain of horse
+in the army of the Lord-General. The genuine, if somewhat narrow, piety of
+the Bostoneers reminded me of him, and still more their healthy critical
+attitude towards rulers in general and kings in particular. They had the
+old Puritan stuff in them too, for some eight months before they had
+captured Louisberg from the French, a famous military exploit which the
+great Lord-General would have gloried in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My days were all twins to each other. Every morning, after breakfast, I
+went abroad and always the same way: past the quaint Town House, down King
+Street, and so on to the Long Wharf to see if a ship had come in from
+England, and to ask the captain thereof if he had brought a letter for one
+Oliver Wheatman at Mr. Peter Faneuil's. I got no letter and no news. Then,
+always a little sad in heart, I strolled back, and looked in at Wilkins'
+book-shop, where some of the town notables were always to be found, and
+where, one May morning, as I was higgling over the purchase of a fine
+Virgil, I made the acquaintance of a remarkable young gentleman, Mr. Sam
+Adams, a genius by birth, a maltster by trade, and a politician by choice.
+We would discuss books together in Master Wilkins', or slip out to a
+retired inn called "The Two Palaverers" and discuss politics over a glass
+of wine and a pipe of tobacco. I liked him so much that I was afraid to
+tell him I had been fighting for the Stuarts, and was content to pass in
+the rôle Mr. Faneuil had assigned to me of an ingenuous young English
+gentleman who had come out to study colonial matters on the spot before
+entering Parliament. Our talk over, I went on to Signor Zandra's and
+worked at Italian for two hours. Most days I took him back to my lodging
+for dinner and read and talked Italian with him for another hour or two.
+The rest of the day I gave to reading, exercising, and, thanks to the good
+merchant, to the best society in Boston.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Occasionally, when I knew for certain that no ship would clear for home
+for two or three days, I made little shooting journeys inland, but in the
+main this is how I spent my days, filling them with work and distraction
+so as not to have idle hours for idler thinking. Spring passed, summer
+came and went, and the leaves were turning from gold to brown when one
+morning, as I was at breakfast, Mr. Faneuil's man came in with a letter.
+It was from Master Freake, summoning me home as all was put right. It
+contained a few lines from Margaret, written in Italian. A ship was
+sailing for London that day, and I went on her.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+Jonadab Kilroot had found his way across the Atlantic into Boston Harbour
+much more easily than I was finding mine across London to Master Freake's
+house in Queen Anne's Gate. It was after nine at night, at which late
+hour, of course, I did not intend to arouse the inmates, but I meant to
+find the place so that I could stand outside and imagine Margaret within,
+perchance dreaming of me. At last I observed that men with torches were
+clearly being used as guides through this black maze of streets, and I
+stopped one such and offered him a guinea to do his office for me. He was
+a lean, shabby, hungry-looking man, who might be forty by the look of him.
+He stared vacantly at me for a few seconds, and then hurriedly led the
+way, holding his link high over his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This trouble over, another began, which put me in a towering rage. A
+gaudy young gentleman bumped into me and, though it was clearly his fault,
+I apologized and passed on, leaving him hopping about on one foot and
+nursing the other, which I had trodden on. He swore at me worse than a
+boatswain at a lubber, and but for the exquisite pain I had caused him I
+should have gone into the matter with him. I found my linkman leaning
+against a post and laughing heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Never you mind, sir. He'll not take the wall of you again in a hurry."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take the wall?" I said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Done on purpose, sir, to pick a quarrel with you. The young sparks do it
+for a game."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not much farther on, we met a sedan, with an elegant young lady in it,
+and an elegant gentleman walking along by her close up to the chains, she
+being in the roadway. There was ample room for me to pass between him and
+the wall, which was also the courteous thing to do; but as soon as my
+linkman had passed him, he shot clean in my way. I gave him all the wall
+he wanted and more, bumping his head against it till he apologized humbly
+through his rattling teeth. The lady shrieked viciously at me, and one of
+her chairmen, my back being turned, pulled out his pole and came to attack
+me. My man, however, very dexterously pushed the link in his face as he
+was straddling over the chains, and he dropped the pole and spat and
+spluttered tremendously. I stepped across to the lady and apologized for
+detaining her, and then my man and I went on, easy victors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at Queen Anne's Gate, another surprise awaited me. Master
+Freake's windows were ablaze with light, and the door was being held open
+by a man in handsome livery to admit an exquisite gentleman and a more
+exquisite lady who had just arrived there in chairs. I gave my man his
+guinea, and after dousing his link in a great iron extinguisher at the
+side of the door, he sped happily away. After watching the arrival of
+three or four more chairs and one carriage, I summoned up all my
+resolution and gave a feeble rat-tat with the massive iron lion's-head
+which served as knocker.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man in livery opened to me, and I was inside before he could observe
+that I was an intruder. True, I was in my best clothes--my Sunday clothes,
+as I should have called them at home--and they were none so bad; but they
+had been made in Boston, where fashions ranged on the sober side. Here I
+looked like a sparrow in a flight of bull-finches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Can I see Master Freake?" said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said he, with uncompromising promptness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is he at home?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," he retorted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This is his house, I think?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is," he assented.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I suppose all these people are coming to see you--and cook," said I
+gravely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sarcasm might have got through his thick skin perhaps but for the
+intervention of another liveried gentleman, who briefly asserted that I
+was "off my head," and proposed a muster of forces to throw me out. My own
+feeling distinctly was that I was on my head, not off it; but his
+suggestion interested me, as I do not take readily to being thrown out of
+anything or anywhere. Luckily, a fresh arrival took their attention off me
+for a minute or two, and while I was standing aside to admire the lady,
+who should come statelily down the grand staircase into the hall but Dot
+Gibson. He too was in livery, but of a grave, genteel sort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hello, Dot," said I, accosting him quietly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It bounced all the gravity out of him. He shook my outstretched hand
+vigorously, and then apologized for doing so, saying he was so glad to see
+me. "Jorkins, you great ass," cried he to the first servant, "what do you
+mean by keeping his honour waiting?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jorkins looked apprehensively at Dot and the suggester of violence looked
+apprehensively at Jorkins; but Dot was too full to bother with them, and
+went on: "Mr. Freake will be delighted, sir, and so will Miss Waynflete.
+They're always talking of you. Come along, sir! Allow me to precede you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took me upstairs into the library, and left me there alone. In a few
+seconds Master Freake burst in on me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear lad," he cried, wringing my hand heartily, "welcome--a thousand
+times welcome!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be back," was all I could say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He put a hand on each shoulder and stood at arm's length to examine me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And we're glad to have you back, looking as fit and brown as a bronze
+gladiator. Come along to your room! It's been ready for you this three
+months, for that silly Margaret set to work on it the very day we sent off
+your letter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How is Mistress Waynflete, sir?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You'll see in five minutes if you'll only bestir yourself. The wits say
+that there's no need for George to furnish the town with a new queen as I
+have provided it with an empress."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He hurried me off to my room, as he called it, and it was so grand that I
+crept about it on tiptoe for fear of damaging something. There was
+everything a young man could want except clothes, and Master Freake
+laughingly assured me that they (meaning Margaret and himself) had puzzled
+for hours to see if they could manage them, but had given it up in despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I declared you'd pine and get thin," he said, "and she vowed you'd get
+lazy and fat."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt very doltish and unready as I followed him to the drawing-room. It
+was very clear to me that no meeting on level terms was in front of me,
+and when I got into a large, brilliant room where some dozen splendid
+ladies and as many elegant, easy-mannered gentlemen were assembled, I felt
+inclined to turn tail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Empress." It was the exact word. Master Freake put his arm in mine and
+led me towards her. She was sitting throned in one corner of a roomy,
+cushioned sofa, with half a dozen young men--the least of them an earl, I
+thought bitterly--bending round her as the brethren's sheaves bent round
+Joseph's. And, as if she were not overpowering enough of herself,
+everything that consummate skill and the nicest artistry could do to
+enhance her beauty had been done. Juno banqueting with the gods had not
+looked more superb. "On level terms," I whispered to myself mockingly, as
+Master Freake led me on, for one of the circling sheaves, with whom she
+was exchanging easy, lightsome banter, was my finely chiselled
+acquaintance, the Marquess of Tiverton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Except that she cut a quip in two when she saw who it was that Master
+Freake was bringing, Margaret gave no sign of surprise. She neither paled
+nor reddened, nor gushed nor faltered. Empress-like she simply added me to
+her train.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I bring you an old friend, Margaret," said Master Freake, for whom, as I
+saw, the worshippers round the idol made way respectfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And my old friend is very welcome, sir," she answered, holding out her
+hand. I bowed over it and kissed it. I thought that it trembled a little
+as it lay in mine, but it is at least probable that I was the source of
+what fluttering there was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I trust you have had a good voyage, Mr. Wheatman?" she questioned easily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Excellent, madam," I replied, with imitative lightness of tone. "It was
+like rowing on a river."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a moment her eyes steadied and darkened, then she said with a smile,
+"That being so, even I, who am no sailor, should have enjoyed it along
+with you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was how we met. Whether on level terms or not, who shall decide?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I say, Mr. Wheatman," broke in the pleasant voice of the Marquess, "you
+don't happen to have any venison-pasty on you, I suppose? I've got some
+rattling good snuff, and I'll give you a pinch for a plateful, as I did up
+in Staffordshire. I vow, Miss Waynflete, it makes me hungry to see him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This speech caused much laughter, and Margaret said it was fortunate
+supper was ready. She then introduced me to the company around, and when
+this was done, Master Freake fetched me to renew the acquaintance of Sir
+James Blount and his lady, so that I was soon full of talk and merriment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Supper and talk, wine and talk, basset and talk--so the time went by till
+long after midnight. Then one by one the guests dropped off. The Marquess
+lingered longest, and on going, pledged me to call on him next morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At last," said Margaret. "Beauty sleep is out of the question to-night,
+Oliver, so tell us everything about everything. It's glorious to have you
+back."
+
+It is not my purpose to dwell on my life in London. After a few days it
+became one long agony because of, but not by means of, Margaret. She did
+her best for me, and was all patience, kindness, and graciousness, and was
+plainly bent on living on level terms with me according to her promise and
+prophecy. It only required a day or two to show me that she had many a man
+of rank and wealth in thrall. As wealth went then, the Marquess of
+Tiverton was, by his own fault and foolishness, a poorish man, but he was
+lost in love of her, and he was only one of the many exquisites who were
+for ever in and out of Master Freake's fine mansion. It did not become a
+Wheatman of the Hanyards to cringe or be abashed in any company, and with
+the best of them I kept on terms of ease and intimacy. I dressed as well,
+and perchance looked as well, as they did, and if my accomplishments
+differed from theirs they differed for the better in Margaret's eyes,
+which were the only eyes that mattered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brief as I intend to be, I must set down a few jottings on things that
+belong to the texture of my story. To begin with, the Colonel, though
+pardoned, was still in France, looking after his affairs there, for before
+starting to join the Prince he had wisely shifted all his fortune over to
+Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Davie Ogilvie had got clear away after Culloden, and his sweet Ishbel,
+though taken after the battle, had been permitted to join him there. It
+was a great comfort to know they were safe, for there were sad relics of
+my escapade in London--the row of ghastly, grinning heads over Temple Bar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon after my arrival, Master Freake had sent for his lawyers and
+delivered to me in full possession the Upper Hanyards and the huge tale of
+guineas which the rascal old earl had disgorged as the price of the
+letter. Master Freake kept a rigid silence over the contents of that
+famous document "about lands," and I had no wish to know. It was worth a
+thousand acres and near ten thousand guineas to the Earl. I was satisfied
+if he was. I put my guineas in a bank of Master Freake's choosing. What a
+dowry I could have given Kate if--
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My Lord Brocton was in town. I saw him several times, in the street or at
+the play, but took no notice of him. He was said to be eagerly hunting
+after a lady of meagre attractions but enormous fortune. Twice when I saw
+him he had with him the fellow I had bumped against the wall, a notorious
+shark and swashbuckler, by name and rank Sir Patrick Gee. Tiverton, who
+had his own reasons for being interested in Brocton, told me they were
+hand and glove together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a little while a month may be, a change came over the relation in
+which Margaret and I stood to each other. We both fought against it but in
+vain. We could not travel on parallel lines, we two. We must either
+converge or diverge, and fate had given me no choice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I used to pretend I was going out, to ride or lounge with the Marquess or
+some other acquaintance, and then slip upstairs to the quiet old library,
+bury myself in a windowed recess cut off by curtains, and try to forget it
+all in a book. Fool-like I thought I could solve my problem so. The
+Hanyards was calling me and I dared not go. I should leave Margaret, and I
+could not leave her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Why, I asked myself a thousand times, was I so poor a cur compared with
+Donald? He had done what I had done, and he had seen his way at once and
+followed it. He would not live, having, in all innocence and with the most
+urgent of all reasons, killed his friend. Not that I felt that his
+solution was my solution. My duty was to leave Margaret and to go to Kate,
+to help her, to the best of my ability, to live down her sorrow, and to
+show by my life and conduct that I would pay the price. And here I was,
+hovering moth-like round the flame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then again I would say that I would wait till the inevitable had
+happened, and Margaret was married to Tiverton. Anything to put it off,
+that was really all I was capable of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To me, in my recess, Margaret came one morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought you'd gone out, Oliver," she began.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," said I. "I altered my mind, and thought I'd like reading better."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You puzzle me. Are you quite well?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As fit as a fiddle," said I cheerily, and rose to give her my seat, for
+the recess would only hold one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You're not to move, sir."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She fetched a couple of cushions, flung them by the window, and curled up
+on them. I wished she wouldn't, for she made a glorious picture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, sir, I am going to have it out with you," she said severely and
+smilingly. I smiled back, and pulled myself together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hope 'it' is not a very serious 'it,' madam," I replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It may be. Does your head ever trouble you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My head ever trouble me?" I gasped, taken aback.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, your head, sir. When you fell down those stairs you received a very
+serious wound on the head. It gaped open so that I could have laid a
+finger in the hole. Are you sure it doesn't trouble you, Oliver? Blows on
+the head are dreadful things, you know."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look at it," said I, popping my head down, and very glad of the chance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her beautiful fingers parted my thick, short, bristly hair and found the
+spot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There's nothing wrong with the skull, is there?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No," very doubtfully. "It's healed splendidly."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, madam," said I, "talk to me in Italian!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the first time, by chance, that I had thought of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For ten minutes she questioned and cross-questioned me in Italian on all
+sorts of subjects, and I came out of the ordeal pretty well--thanks to
+Signor Zandra.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Point one," said I in English. "The outside of my head is all right.
+Point two: are you satisfied with the inside?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a full minute she gazed in silence at her feet, twisting them about
+swiftly and somewhat forgetfully. It was trying, almost merciless, for
+she was very beautiful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," she said at length, but without looking at me. "You've done
+marvellously well."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the only language one can love in," I said bitterly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The words had no apparent effect. She still stared at her twinkling feet.
+Suddenly she lifted her eyes up to mine and said, almost sharply, "Then
+what did happen to you between the Hanyards and Leek to change you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was clean, swift hitting, and made me gasp, but I managed to escape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madam," said I, "I set out with you from the Hanyards to serve you and
+for no other purpose whatsoever. In my opinion, speaking in all modesty, I
+served you as well after Leek as before it. At least, I tried to."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She leaped up, and, with great sweeps of her arm, flung the cushions into
+the library. She said briefly, "And you succeeded, sir!" Then she left me.
+swiftly and passionately, without another word or look.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this, the gap between us became obvious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile the Marquess of Tiverton was doing his best to give me a
+competent knowledge of the Court-end of the town. He had a spacious
+mansion in Bloomsbury Square, but this was now let to a great nabob, and
+he himself lived in close-shorn splendour in a small house in St. James's.
+Here I saw much of him, for commonly I would stroll round late in the
+forenoon and rout him out of bed. By an odd turn we took to each other
+greatly, and while he drank chocolate in bed or trifled with his breakfast
+we had many talks on the few subjects that mattered to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our favourite theme was Margaret, whom he outspokenly worshipped. He
+rhapsodized over her in great stretches, calling me to testify with him to
+her divineness, and rating me soundly if, in the bitterness of my heart, I
+was a little laggard in my devotions. And, at irregular intervals, like
+Selah in the Psalms, he would intone dolefully, "And I can't marry her!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no use my protesting that an unmarried man could marry any woman
+he liked if she would have him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A man can," he would reply, "but a bankrupt marquess can't. I've got to
+marry that jade. Pah! She's as lank as a hop-pole and as yellow as a
+guinea. But what's a marquess to do, Noll? They say she could tie up the
+neck and armholes of her shift and fill it with diamonds. Damn her! I wish
+Brocton would snap her up, but he can't. He'll never be more than an earl
+and I'm a marquess. Curse my luck! Fancy me a marquess! I'm a disgrace to
+my order and as poor as a crow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The 'jade' referred to was the nabob's only daughter and heiress, who
+was, as all the town knew, to make a great match. My Lord Brocton was
+keenly in pursuit of her, but she inclined to the Marquess, who could have
+had her and her vast fortune any day for the asking. She was certainly not
+overdone with charms, but Tiverton in his anger had made her out worse
+than she was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The morning after my encounter with Margaret in the recess, Tiverton was
+more than usually talkative, the fact being not unconnected, I imagine,
+with an unsuccessful bout at White's the night previous. We got through
+our usual talk about Margaret and the nabobess, and then he struck out a
+new line.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now if the divine Margaret," he said, "rightly so named as the pearl of
+great price among women, were only Freake's daughter and heiress, I'd be
+on my knees before her in a jiffy. They say he made cartfuls of money over
+that Jacobite business. Everybody here was selling at any price the stocks
+would fetch, and he was buying right and left on his own terms. He was
+back here, knowing of the retreat from Derby, over twenty-four hours
+before the courier came, and the old fox kept the news to himself. He's
+the first man out of the city to set up house in the Court-end. Old
+Borrowdell shifted his tabernacle as far west as Hatton Gardens in my
+father's time, and that was thought pretty big and bold, but here's Freake
+right in the thick of it, and holds his own like a lion among jackals.
+Fact is, he's a right-down good fellow. Being a marquess, I ought to
+despise him, 'stead of which I feel like a worm whenever he comes near me,
+and that, mark ye, Noll, not because I owe him close on ten thousand. I
+used to owe a rascal named Blayton quite as much, and every time he came
+whining round here I either wanted to kick him out or did it. Heigh-ho!
+I'm in the very devil of a mess but I'll cheat scraggy-neck yet. I'll
+reform outright, Noll. I'll never touch a card again as long as I live."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That's the talk!" said I heartily. "Eat something and let's have the
+horses out for a gallop across Putney Heath."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next evening, early, being very miserable, I went round to the Blounts,
+with whom I was very friendly. I forgot myself for a time, it being
+impossible to think of anything while lying on my back on the hearth, with
+baby Blount trying to pull my hair out by the roots and cutting a stubborn
+tooth on my nose. He was a delightful, pitiless, young rascal and would
+leave anything and anybody to maul me about.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had, however, for once mistaken my billet, for while thus engaged who
+should come in with his mother but Margaret?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aren't you afraid to trust baby with such an inexperienced nurse?" asked
+Margaret, smiling at my discomfiture, for I had to lie there till I was
+rescued from the young dog's clutches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not at all. When he's with a baby, he becomes a baby, which is what they
+want. He'll make an ideal father, don't you think?" said her ladyship
+happily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think he will," said Margaret in a very judicial tone, but she
+coloured as she said it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While Lady Blount disposed of baby, Margaret beckoned me aside. "Oliver,
+you'll do me a favour, won't you?" she asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As I came here in a chair, I saw the Marquess going into White's. I fear
+he may be gambling again. He easily yields to the temptation, and soon
+becomes reckless. Will you call in, as if by chance, and coax him out? I
+would have him saved from himself, and you have great influence over him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If he won't come out," said I, smiling, "I'll lug him out!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I excused myself to Lady Blount and set forth on my errand, willingly
+enough, since she desired it and I liked him, but all the way I thought of
+her anxious face as she asked me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At White's I found Tiverton playing piquet with Brocton. A heap of
+guineas was by his side, and he was flushed and excited with success. The
+bout had attracted some attention, for the stakes were running high, and
+eight or nine men were gathered round the players, among them Sir Patrick
+Gee. I waited while the hand was played out. Tiverton repiqued his
+opponent, and joyously raked over to his side of the table four tall piles
+of guineas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was my first meeting with Brocton. Chance and Margaret had brought us
+together again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Egad, Tiverton," said I to the Marquess, who now first observed me, "you
+had the cards that time with a vengeance. Are you playing on? What about
+your engagement with me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Marquess coloured slightly at my veiled rebuke. He looked doubtfully
+at his watch, then at me, and finally at Brocton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you had enough?" he asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Enough?" cried Brocton. "Since you took up with farmers you've got
+chicken-hearted at cards. Play on, my lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have told you," said I quietly to Brocton, "that his lordship has an
+engagement with me. That should be enough. If you want your revenge, which
+is natural, there are other nights available."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I want my revenge now, and will have it," he said meaningly, "and this
+is how I serve men who come between me and my revenge." He was shuffling a
+pack of cards as he spoke, and, with the words, he flung them in my face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At most of the tables play stopped, and the players there became silently
+intent on this new game where the stakes ran highest of all. It meant a
+fight, a fight between an expert swordsman and a man who knew nothing of
+the craft. To such a fight there could be but one end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tiverton was beside himself. "She'll never forgive me!" he muttered, and
+I looked amusedly at him and whispered, "Who? The nabobess?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was the highest in rank there, and as such a court of appeal and a
+sort of master of the ceremonies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My Lord Tiverton," said I aloud, "I am, as you know, a recent arrival in
+town from the Americas and other outlandish places, and, naturally enough
+under these circumstances, I am not clear on some points."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's clear you've been swiped across the face," broke in Sir Patrick Gee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold your tongue, sir!" said Tiverton, looking quietly at him. "Proceed,
+Mr. Wheatman!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It made me smile again, tight as the corner was, to see the play-acting
+spirit creeping over him. He was beginning to enjoy himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Therefore, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions," I
+continued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, sir," he replied, with great impressiveness, taking snuff in
+great style while he awaited my questioning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is there any doubt that I am the insulted person?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"None whatever," he replied. "My Lord Brocton insulted you wantonly and
+deliberately."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, my lord Marquess, I may be wrong, but I think I have the right of
+choosing the place, the time, and the weapons."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly, Mr. Wheatman," he answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then if I choose to say, 'On the banks of the Susquehanna, ten years
+hence, with tomahawks,' so it must be?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A wave of scornful laughter went round the room as the question passed
+from mouth to mouth. Even the most ardent gamblers left their play to join
+the circle around us. English even in their vices, they took a fight for
+granted, but were up in a moment to see some fun.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Marquess was disconcerted. He obviously felt that I was about to
+reflect on him in the gravest way; that, in short, I was backing out. He
+would be tarnished by the dishonour that had driven me out of the world of
+gentlemen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I think," said he, "that would be overstraining the privileges of an
+insulted gentleman."
+
+"Run away, farmer!" bellowed Sir Patrick raucously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tiverton looked disdainfully at him. "You may like to know, my lords and
+gentlemen," he said, as grandly as if he were reciting a set piece from
+the stage, "that on the night of his arrival from Boston my friend was
+rudely insulted in the Strand by a certain person." Here he stopped,
+whirled round on the hulking scoundrel, and added grimly to him, "I shall
+finish the story unless you leave the room at once."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gee thought better of it and slipped off like a disturbed night-prowler.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank you, my lord," said I very humbly, "for your decision. I hope my
+unavoidable ignorance entitles me to try again."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Certainly," said he, but with unmistakable uncertainty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked round the intent curious circle of faces and then at Brocton. On
+his face and in his cruel eyes there were the same gloating anticipations
+that were there when, in Marry-me-quick's cottage, he thought he was
+bending Margaret to his foul will. You could have heard a card drop in
+that crowded room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My time had come to the tick. Stretching myself taut, I said slowly and
+distinctly, "Here. Now. Fists."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Brocton went limp and ghastly. I strode up to him, took him, unresisted,
+by the scruff of the neck, and then said curtly, "Open the door, Tiverton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The willing little Marquess ran delightedly to do my bidding, and I
+kicked my lord Brocton into the kennel and out of my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning I went round to Tiverton's as usual, and while he was at
+breakfast, and we were starting our usual round of talk, in came Sir James
+Blount, a stranger at such an hour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have you heard the news?" he asked abruptly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What news?" asked Tiverton, rather sour at being cheated out of his
+morning's consolatory grumble with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mr. Freake has declared that Miss Waynflete is to be his sole heiress,"
+he replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had to thump Tiverton to prevent him being choked by something that
+went the wrong way. We had an excited talk about the news, which Sir James
+had received direct from Master Freake, which settled it as a fact beyond
+dispute or change. Margaret was now the most desirable match in London
+from every point of view. Blount went away quite pleased with the stir he
+had made.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Henry! Henry!" yelled Tiverton as soon as we were alone, and in came his
+man hastily. "Henry! What the devil do you mean by putting me into these
+old rags? Damme! I look like a chairman. Go and get some decent things
+out, you old rascal! I'm to call on the greatest lady in London town."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He hurried off after his servant, and I heard him singing and shouting
+over his second toilet. I crept miserably out of the house and made my way
+to the mews. The ostler saddled my horse, a beautiful chestnut mare which
+Master Freake had given me, and I rode out of town, deep in thought.
+Mechanically, I went the way we had intended to go, and found myself at
+last on the heights that overlook London from the north. Then I pulled up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The towers of the Abbey stood out nobly against the steel-blue sky.
+Within their shadow was Master Freake's house where, by now, Tiverton
+would not have pleaded his love in vain. I saw her there, in the splendid
+room she always dimmed with her greater splendour, the exquisite Marquess
+at her feet, happy in possession of the pearl of great price. Over this
+vision a shadow came, and I saw the house-place at the Hanyards, with our
+widowed Kate alone in her sorrow. Her flame-red hair was white as snow and
+tears of blood were on her cheeks. Donald's farewell, <i>Weird mun hae
+way</i>, boomed in my ears like a dirge. With a sigh that was near of kin
+to a sob, I pulled the mare round and urged her northwards, northwards and
+homewards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my fear and trembling I shirked everything, doing childishly and more
+than childishly. I was not on Sultan, and when I rode out of Lichfield I
+hugged that simple fact to my heart. So much of my dream had at least not
+come true, and I gave the lie to more of it by leaving the high road and
+wandering devious ways till, within four or five miles of home, I left
+even the by-ways and kept to the fields. So keen was I on my little
+stratagems that I rode over the Upper Hanyards without once recalling the
+fact that it was now mine as it had been my father's before me. About four
+o'clock on a December day, just over a year since leaving home, I leaped
+the mare over a hedge and was at the old gate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+More of the dream was untrue. The winter sun was dropping down to the
+hill-tops like a great carbuncle set in gold, and the Hanyards was all
+aglow in its flaming rays. The gate was open, so that I could at least
+begin by pitching into Joe Braggs for his negligence, and the windows of
+the house-place shimmered a welcome because of the cheerful blaze within.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not a soul stirred. I jumped down, threw the reins over the gate-post,
+and walked stealthily into the yard and up to the window. Still not a soul
+stirred.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I peeped in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was our Kate, leaning lovingly over my chair, pillowed as she had
+never pillowed it for me, and in the chair was clearly a man, for I could
+see his stockings and breeches stretching comfortably past her skirts. She
+laughed merrily at something said, and then stooped and kissed the person
+in the chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was woman's faith! With a great clatter, I strode into the porch,
+thrust open the door, and stepped in. There was a shout of delight, a
+babble of, "It's our Noll! It's our Noll!" and Kate leaped into my arms
+and rained kisses on me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man followed her, slowly and feebly, leaning heavily on a stick. When
+he turned his face so that the firelight showed him up, my legs sank
+beneath me and my knees knocked together. It was Jack, dear old Jack,
+nothing but the shadow of himself, but still Jack right enough, and his
+hand was in mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Run, Kit!" he cried. "Get some wine! The lad's overcome. God bless you,
+old Noll, how are you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Kate ran off into the parlour, where our wine was stored.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Jack!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hello, Noll!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I thought I'd killed you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was it you?" he asked, all amazed at my self-accusation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," I faltered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By gom, Noll, you did give me a sock!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He heard Kate tripping back with the wine, and put his finger on his lips
+for a warning. And that was the first and last remark Jack Dobson made on
+the subject.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h2>
+
+<h3>THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN</h3>
+
+<p>
+It took me to cure Jack. I administered one dose of medicine and he at
+once began to fill out and get strong and chesty in a manner almost
+absurd, whereon there was much twitting of our Kate who, in her old way,
+rated me soundly in public and crept up to me in private, and kissed me
+and wept gladly in the most approved maiden-like style.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the way of it. I sent Joe Braggs into Stafford the day after I
+got home to fetch out Master Dobson, and had him alone in my room. True he
+was as near and grasping as ever, but I saw even this side of him in a new
+light now, for he had been near and grasping for Jack. He was rather
+uncertain when we met; glad enough, of course, to see an old friend back
+again safe and sound, but dubious on the main point.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Dobson," said I, "your Jack desires to wed our Kate."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So he tells me," said he dolefully, rubbing his thin finger under the
+edge of his bob-wig to scratch his perplexed head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is an excellent young woman, and a comely," said I, grinning at him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Undoubtedly," he conceded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But, as the head of the family, Master Dobson, I offer no objection to
+the proposal." Much it would have mattered if I had, but I always take
+credit when and while I can.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It's very kind of you, Ol ... Mr. Wheatman," said he, "but...."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes," said I encouragingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But there's what I may call the material side of the matter to be
+considered. My son's bride should be suitable from the business point of
+view."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I've been considering that point, Master Dobson. It is undoubtedly
+important. Jack's a careless young dog, and I'm sure our Kate is just the
+woman he wants from a business point of view. She'll keep an eye on every
+meg in his pockets."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tut, tut!" said he, stirred to action, as I knew he would be. "You
+mistake me completely. My son will not be wanting in this world's gear and
+he must have a wife to match."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I see," said I. "One with something substantial in her pocket."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Precisely," said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, Master Dobson, if our Kate is willing to marry your Jack, a point
+on which I can offer only a conjecture, she will marry him with five
+thousand pound in her pocket."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat bolt upright and stared at me with his mouth wide open.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We fetched them in, mother coming with them, and the old man there and
+then gave them his blessing. Kate ran into mother's arms, while Jack wrung
+my hand and danced for joy. Afterwards he ate the most astonishing dinner
+imaginable, loudly asseverating that he was as right as nine-pence and
+sick of slops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My coming back made a great noise all over our countryside. Of what I had
+actually done there was no knowledge whatsoever. The tale went that I had
+been to America and found a goldmine, and come home and bought back the
+lost Hanyards. Acute sceptics in barbers' shops and market ordinaries
+advanced the opinion that it must have been a very little goldmine, but
+they were unable to substitute any other explanation and so fell into
+contempt. The tale suited me and I never contradicted it. In a world where
+a man who has travelled to London is a person of consideration and renown,
+I, who had been to America, was as a god. My first visit to Stafford put
+the sleepy old town into commotion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every night around the fire in the house-place I told them of my
+adventures. Jack, the sly fox, sat among his cushions, which he had not
+been fool enough to discard along with his slops, with Kate on a low stool
+at his knees. The vicar sat by mother's side on the settle. I drew a chair
+close to her, so that her hand could clasp mine as I talked, and very
+helpful I found it, for she understood in silence and in silence comforted
+me. Jane laid supper, taking a long time over it, for between journeys to
+and from the kitchen she would stand behind the settle and listen
+wide-eyed to a spell of my talk. Every night the vicar said grace, adding,
+in his simple, apostolic way, a special thanksgiving to the good God who
+had brought the young lad safe home again, through perils by sea and
+perils by land, and out of the very hands of evil men who had compassed
+him about to destroy him. Then, after supper, I escorted the good man home
+and came back through the moonlit lanes; and every night, without fail, I
+went and stood on the very spot where the gaff had slipped out of my
+collar, and I had turned round to see Margaret.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only discontented person in our little circle was Joe Braggs, who had
+caught the dace that caught the jack, and so started me out of my jog-trot
+yeoman's round into the great world of life and adventure. Joe had done
+well while I had been away; our fields had yielded fruitfully under his
+care as bailiff; and, having had a favourable harvest, we were much money
+in hand on the year's working. I had thanked him heartily, confirmed him
+as my bailiff now that I was back, and given him fifty guineas, a sum
+which to him was wealth untold. Still the rascal was not satisfied, and
+went about with a bear on his back, as Jane had it, so that I was greatly
+tempted to clip his ear for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The day before Christmas, he was busy all morning under Jane's garrulous
+command, getting in bunches of holly and other evergreens from the
+hedgerows. His last journey had been to one of the farms on the Upper
+Hanyards in quest of mistletoe, which grew abundantly there in an ancient
+orchard. On getting back he had held a sprig over Jane's head for a
+certain familiar and laudable purpose, and had been rewarded with a smack
+that sounded like the dropping of an empty milk-pail. A little later I
+found him glowering in a cowhouse, and had it out with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look here, Joe, my lad," said I, "tell me straight what's the matter
+with you or I'll break your head."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What d'ye want to come back 'ere for, upsettin' Jin like this'n?" he
+blurted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What the blazes have I done to upset Jin?" I asked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why didna y' bring 'er back wi' ye, then?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who's her, you jolt-head?" I demanded angrily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That leddy o' yourn. Jin's that upset 'er wunna luk at me, an' we wor
+gettin' on fine."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no use talking to Joe. I explained that she was a great lady and
+was to marry a marquess, that is a much more important person than an
+earl. He knew what an earl was, for of course he had heard of the 'Yurl,'
+meaning that old rascal Ridgeley. A marquess, however, was outside his
+ken, and the information was wasted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why didna y' marry 'er y'rsel', Master Noll, and bring 'er back 'ere,
+then Jin wud 'a' bin all rate?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I couldn't," said I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Did y' ask 'er?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"More fule yow," said he bitterly. "She'd 'a' 'ad y', rate enough. Jin
+says so, an' 'er knows."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What could be done with such a silly fellow? I left off discussing and
+took him indoors with me. In front of Jane I pledged him in a mug of ale
+and told him he was one of the best lads breathing, and I was greatly
+beholden to him. In front of him I kissed Jane under the mistletoe and
+told her that, bonny lass as she was, she was lucky to have the best lad
+in Staffordshire. I left them in the kitchen, and heard no more crashes.
+Later on, Joe whistled his three tunes with admirable skill and
+intolerable persistency while, under Jane's orders, he took in charge the
+boiling of the Christmas puddings in a vast iron pot hung over the kitchen
+fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was growing dark. Everybody was happy. Mother was out and round the
+village with her Christmas gifts, attended by one of our men and a cart
+packed with good things. Nothing could have made her happier. Jack and
+Kate were in the house-place busy with all sorts of housewiferies, in
+which he was as interested as she. Joe and Jane were in the kitchen, as
+merry as grigs. I went into my own room, across the passage from the
+parlour, sacrosanct to me, my books and my belongings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There, too, was the great jack, set up to the very life by the skilful
+hand of Master Whatcot. He appeared to be cleaving a bunch of reeds to
+pounce on a dace, just as he had done once too often on that memorable
+day. Brothers of the angle had made pilgrimages to see him from thirty
+miles round, and it was an added charm to fancy that the monster had been
+caught in a spot where Izaak Walton had fished as a boy, he having been
+born and bred in these parts. My jack is a famous jack, for the curious
+reader will find an account of him, with his dimensions and catching
+weight exactly given, in Master Joshua Spindler's folio volume entitled
+"Rudimenta Piscatoria, or the Whole Art of Angling set forth in a Series
+of Letters from a Nobleman to his Son," London, 1751. No one who has yet
+seen him has seen a bigger, though most of them have heard of one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lit my candles, got my pipe going, and drew my chair near the fire to
+read and smoke. It was, however, early days yet for me to read for long.
+Moreover, by habit I had picked up my Virgil, and it was as yet impossible
+for me to feel the tips of my fingers in the teeth-marks without thinking
+of the poor wretch who had made them. I could see in exactest detail his
+dead body lying in the road and Swift Nicks beside it, pitching the bag of
+guineas up and down in the air, and smiling gleefully and yet wistfully at
+me. From that grim event, whether my mind travelled backwards or forwards,
+it traversed scenes such as few men are privileged, or fated, to pass
+through.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was, again, too soon for me to realize the full effect of my
+experiences on myself. I was not moody, as in the days aforetime. I
+neither loathed my lot nor cursed my destiny. I had seen warfare and
+bloodshed, I had had my heart wrung and my nerves racked, and now the
+peaceful meadows winding along the river and stretching up to the purple
+hills were dear to eyes from which the scales had fallen. This was the
+life and labour on which the world was based, and it was worthy of any
+man. I had seen Death the Harvester at work, and he was a less alluring
+figure than Joe Braggs with a flashing sickle in his hand and a swathe of
+golden grain under his arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I should never be really alone again. I had company of which I should
+never tire as I sat here with my memories. Margaret was rarely absent from
+my mind, and every memory of her was a blessing and an inspiration. I did
+not regret my love, foolish and vain as it had been. The thing that really
+mattered was that Jack was alive. I could now look back on everything
+without bitterness. If Margaret came for me now, to call me forth to
+another hard round of struggle and adventure, I should be off with her
+like a shot. She had made a splendid companion. She would make a splendid
+marchioness. Some day, when the pain would not be unendurable, I would go
+to London and steal another peep at those matchless eyes and that tower of
+golden, gleaming hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not hear the door open, but I heard mother's calm voice, gently
+reproving Jane for an unseemly giggle. A pair of arms crept round my neck,
+and slim white fingers cupped my chin. Kate did not know that it was I who
+had so nearly sent her sweetheart to an untimely grave, for Jack had
+sternly forbidden me to mention the subject to anyone, and, as I have
+said, it might never have happened so far as he was concerned. Therefore
+Kate, always a loving and attentive sister, was now more loving and
+attentive than ever because she knew in her heart that, though I had
+gained much in my wanderings, I had lost the one thing she had found in
+the quiet sickroom where, during long weary months, she had lured Jack
+back to life. It was always her task to fetch me from my books and my
+thoughts to the beloved circle in the house-place, when, as now, she had
+prepared a dish of tea for us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The soft resolute hands raised my chin, and I gasped as I looked into
+Margaret's eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She lightly held me down, and, as if we had only parted five minutes
+before in the house-place, began to speak, quietly but rapidly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oliver, do you remember waking me in the barn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I nodded. I was too amazed to speak, and there was that in her eyes which
+made me tremble.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was dreaming," she said, and I nodded again and remembered how she had
+flushed like the dawn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Because you are the greatest goose of a man that ever lived, I am going
+to tell you my dream. I dreamed that you were carrying me across the Pearl
+Brook, and as you carried me the brook got wider and wider--you had made
+it as wide as you could, you know--until it seemed as if we should never
+get across it. And you would not put me down, though I begged you to do
+so, but carried me on and on. You grew tired and weary, and your face went
+white and drawn, as I find it now, but you would not let me go. Was it not
+a curious dream, Oliver?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again I nodded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why can't you speak, Oliver? Anything would make it less hard. Then,
+because you were so weary, and so good to me, and so faithful, and
+long-enduring, I did in my dream ... in my dream, you mark ... something
+very un-maidenly ... and immediately we were both on the other side; and I
+awoke as you put me down at last and found you by my side, having, in your
+knightly unselfishness, ruined your hat to give me a drink of milk. And
+because you are the best man on earth, and also a blind silly goose,
+Oliver, and I must take some risk or lose my all, I am going ... to do the
+unmaidenly thing I did in my dream ... and ... you ... must not misjudge
+me, Oliver."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stopped, smiled as only Margaret can, and bent her head until a loose
+coil of amber hair fell on my face Then she brushed it aside and, after a
+little gasping cry, kissed me on the lips.
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="epilogue">EPILOGUE</a></h2>
+
+<p>
+THE LITTLE JACK
+</p>
+
+<p>
+AT THE HANYARDS STAFFORDSHIRE <i>August 9th, 1757</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret and I had a hot dispute this morning. True she went away,
+singing happily, to rebuild the masses of yellow hair that had fallen all
+over her shoulders and mine, for the dreadful stuff seems to tumble down
+if I look at it, but still we had disputed, and vigorously, too. The plain
+fact is she had sniffed at Aristotle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The trouble arose out of this story of mine which I have been busy
+writing for the last twenty months. It has been hard work, for I was new
+to the business, and had to learn how to do it, but it has been a pleasant
+task and a labour of love. Now we disputed about it. I said it was
+finished. She said it wasn't. I said I ought to know. She replied not
+necessarily, since I was such a great goose. Then I loaded my big gun and
+thought to blow her clean out of the water.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My dear Margaret," said I, "Aristotle lays it down that every work of
+art has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning of our story was
+the catching of the great jack, the middle of it was the fight at the 'Red
+Bull,' and the end of it was the kiss you gave me. You see, dear, how
+exactly I have done what Aristotle says I ought to do."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bother Aristotle! What does he know about us?" It was here that she
+sniffed, not figuratively but actually. That is to say she held up her
+nose, on pretence of looking at me, and audibly ... well, sniffed. There's
+no other word for it. Then she cried triumphantly, "What is the use, Noll,
+of telling our story and not saying a single word about the most important
+people in it?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this question I made no reply. I was beaten. Aristotle, had he been in
+my place, would have been beaten too. If we had been in town I would have
+run round to Mr. Johnson's and asked him to assist me, but I feel sure he
+would have been as helpless as I was. There was no reply, so I contented
+myself with playing with her gorgeous hair till it was all a-tumble to the
+floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bother Aristotle! I must do as Margaret bids.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p>
+The Colonel and Master Freake were in the house-place when, at last, that
+memorable Christmas Eve, I proudly took my Margaret there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir," said I to the former, before he had ceased his hearty handshake,
+"I love Margaret dearly and Margaret loves me. May we be married?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"You young dog! What d'ye say to that, John?" he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nothing is nearer to my heart," said the great merchant of London,
+giving me his hand in turn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nor to mine, so that settles it," cried the Colonel, fishing out his
+snuff-box, while I led Margaret up to mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We spent a happy Christmas as lovers, and were married on New Year's Day
+by the vicar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jack and Kate were married in the spring, by which time he was as well
+and strong as ever. For years I feared lest his severe wound should have
+left some permanent source of weakness, but happily my fears were
+ill-founded. Jack, having had enough of soldiering, took to business at
+Master Freake's suggestion. He has developed all his father's shrewdness
+while retaining all his own boyish charm. He is now Master Freake's right
+hand, in the great London house of Freake & Dobson. Kate is Kate still,
+ardent, busy, level-headed, and loving, and the happy mother of three
+girls and a boy. Jack and I are as twins to one another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the summer after our wedding, Margaret and I went our journey over
+again. We saw Cherry-Cheeks, and made sure that Sim should have not only a
+good wife but a good business of his own to keep her on. We found out
+sweet Nance Lousely, and filled her pinner full of guineas after all, and
+left her tearful and happy. We knelt together by a simple grave in the
+Catholic burial-ground at Leek, and on the top of Shap we stood, with
+tears in our eyes, beside the great stone that marked the resting-place of
+Donald and his chief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did become a Parliament man, as Master Faneuil had said I should, and
+am a strong supporter of Mr. Pitt. We spend part of each year in London,
+where the Marquess is our great friend. He married the nabobess after all,
+and she loved him well enough to make it her business to reform him. He
+vows she is the finest woman in England, with a head on her shoulders as
+good as Mr. Freake's. She makes a good marchioness, too, for she always
+had sense, and has developed dignity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But most of our time we spend at the Hanyards, which I have made into a
+fine house by careful changes. Master Joe Braggs and Mistress Jane Braggs
+are our loyal, willing servants and our friends, and are as happy as
+sandboys together. They have now quite a large family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To-day we are all together again for a long stay at the Hanyards. The
+Archdeacon of Lichfield, once our beloved vicar, is with us, simple,
+fatherly, and learned as of old. I can see his white head when I lift mine
+up from my writing. He is sunning himself in the garden and talking with
+mother, who turns her eyes now and again to look at the road, for Kate and
+Jack are coming in from Stafford with their children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All these are familiar names, but it is fit that the record should be
+given before I go back to Margaret's sniff at Aristotle. For while I was
+busying myself with her hair, who should come in sight, walking through
+the orchard from the river, but the Colonel and Master Freake. They
+stopped to join mother and the Archdeacon in their talk, and we, looking
+at them, were proud and happy in the knowledge of their love for us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then there was a great clatter and chattering and excited shouting
+without. Margaret had left the door of my study open, and in raced the
+most important people in our story. They had a tale too big for coherent
+talk, and they gabbled away, one after the other or both together, to tell
+us all about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was Oliver who had done it. He held up with a pride that made him
+splutter a little jack about fourteen inches long, which he had just
+caught. They say he is his father over again. At any rate, he will fish
+morning, noon, and night, if he can coax one of us elders to go with him
+to take care of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There he stood, the fish dangling at arm's length, telling his mother
+exactly how he had done it. I do not pretend to be impartial, but a finer
+boy than mine is not to be found. He drops the fish to the floor to rush
+into his mother's arms to be kissed and praised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am busy, too; busy as I love best of all to be. For on my knee, her
+arms round my neck and her great mane of glorious wheat-coloured hair
+tickling my face, is the dearest little creature on God's earth, my other
+Margaret. If you want to see me when I am intensely proud and happy, you
+must see me with her at my side walking in the Park or down the Green Gate
+at Stafford, with all eyes turning on her because of her surpassing
+childish beauty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I helped him catch it, daddy," she says, lifting up her face to be kissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So does history repeat itself, and it is settled at once that Noll's jack
+is to be put by Master Whatcot in the same case as dad's, for all the
+world to know that he is as good a fisherman as his father before him. Joe
+is to send it to Stafford at once, and the two rush off eagerly to give it
+to him, leaving us alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To the glowing beauty of her maidenhood Margaret has added the serene
+beauty of motherhood. That is all the change I can see in her, as I put my
+arms round her and draw her to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she could speak she said happily, "Well done fisherman!"
+</p>
+<BR>
+<BR>
+<BR>
+<BR>
+<PRE>
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YEOMAN ADVENTURER ***
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