 21 Upon the hill he turned. Having entered into this solemn compact with his son, the elder loved action was to go to Mrs. Garland, and ask her how the toning down of the wedding had best to be done. It is plain enough that to make marriage just now would be slighting Bob's feelings, as if we didn't care who was not married, so long as we were, said, but then what is to be done about the vitals? Give her dinner to the poor folk, she suggested, we can get everything used up that way." That's true, said the miller, as enough of them in these times to carry off any extras whatsoever. Then it will say Bob's feelings wonderfully, and they won't know that the dinner was got for another sort of wedding and another sort of guest, so you'll have their good will for nothing. The miller smiled at the subtlety of the view. That can hardly be called fair, he said. Still, I did mean some of it for them, for the friends we meant to ask would not have cleared all. Upon the air-hole, they eased him well, particularly when he noticed the forlorn look of his sailor's son as he walked about the place, and pictured the inevitable jarring effect of fiddles and tambourines upon Bob's shattered nerves at such a crisis, even if the notes of the former were dulled by the application of a mute, and Bob shut up in a distant bedroom, a plan which had at first occurred to him. He therefore told Bob that the surcharged larder was to be emptied by the charitable process above alluded to, and hoped he would not mind making himself useful in such a good and gloomy work. Bob readily fell in with the sight of the scheme, and it was at once put in hand, and the tables spread. The alacrity with which the substitutive wedding was carried out seemed to show that the worthy pair of neighbours would have joined themselves into one long ago had there previously occurred any domestic incident dictating such a step as an apes' expedient apart from their personal wish to marry. The appointed morning came, and the service quietly took place at the cheerful hour of ten in the face of a triangular congregation, of which the base was the front pew, and the apex the west door. Mrs. Garland dressed herself in the muslin shawl like Queen Charlotte's that Bob had brought home, and her best plum gown beneath which peeped out her shoes with red resets. Anne was present, but she considerably could tone herself down so as not too seriously to damage her mother's appearance. At moments during the ceremony she had a distressing sense that she ought not to be born, and was glad to get home again. The interest excited in the village, though real, was hardly enough to bring a serious blush to the face of Coyness. Neighbours' minds have become so saturated by the abundance of showy military and regal incident lately vouchsafed to them that the wedding of middle-aged civilians was of small account, accepting in so far that it solved the question whether or not Mrs. Garland would consider herself too genteel to mate with a grinder of corn. In the evening Loveday's heart was made glad by seeing the baked and boiled in rapid process of consumption by the kitchen full of people assembled for that purpose. Three-quarters of an hour was sufficient to banish for ever his fears as to spoil to food. The provisions being the cause of the assembly and not its consequence had been determined to get all that would not keep consumed on that day, even if highways and hedges had to be searched for operators. And in addition to the poor and needy every cottage's daughter known to the miller was invited and told to bring her lover from camp, an expedient which, for letting daylight into the inside of full platters, was among the most happy ever known. While Mr. and Mrs. Loveday, Anne and Bob were standing in the parlour discussing the progress of the entertainment in the next room, John, who had not been down all day, entered the house and looked in upon them through the open door. I was just, John, why didn't you come before? I had to see the captain and other duties, said the trumpet-major, in a tome which showed no great disiel for explanations. Well, come in, however, continued the miller, as his son remained with his hand on the doorpost surveying them reflectively. I cannot stay long, said John advancing. The route is come, and we are going away. Going away? Where to? To Exembury. When? Friday morning. All of you? Yes, some to-morrow, and some next day. The king goes next week. I am sorry for this, said the miller, not expressing half his sorrow by the simple utterance. I wish you could have been here to-day, since this is the case, he reminded, looking at the horizon through the window. Mrs. Loveday also expressed her regret which seemed to remind the trumpet-major of the event of the day, and he went to her and tried to say something befitting the occasion. Anne had not said that she was either sorry or glad, but John Loveday fancied that she had looked rather relieved than otherwise when she heard his news. His conversation with Bob on the down made Bob's man, too, remarkably cool, notwithstanding that he had, after all, followed his brother's advice, which he was as yet too soon after the event for him to rightly value. John did not know why the sailor had come back, never supposing that it was because he had thought better of going. And said to him privately, You didn't overtake her? I didn't try to, said Bob, and you're not going to? No, I shall let her drift. I am glad indeed, Bob, you have been wise, said Bob John heartily. Bob, however, still loved Matilda too well to be other than dissatisfied with John and the event that he had precipitated, which the older brother only too promptly perceived, and he made his stay that evening of sheen. Before leaving he said with some hesitation to his father, including Anne and her mother by his glance, Do you think to come up and see us off? The miller answered with them all, and said that of course they would come. But she'll step down again between now and then, he inquired. I'll try to, he added after a pause, in case I should not remember that Rivali will sound at half-past five, which will leave about eight. Next summer perhaps, which will come and camp here again. I hope so, said his father and Mrs. Loveday. There was something in John's manner which indicated to Anne that he had scarcely intended to come down again. But the others did not notice it, and she said nothing. He departed a few minutes later, in the dusk of the August evening, leaving Anne still in doubt as to the meaning of his private meeting with Miss Johnson. John Loveday had been going to tell them that on the last night, no special privilege, it would be in his power to come and stay with him until eleven o'clock. But at the moment of leaving he abandoned the intention, and attitude had chilled him and made him anxious to be off. He utilised the spare hours of that last night in another way. This was by coming down from the outskirts of the camp in the evening and seating himself near the brink of the mill-pond as soon as it was quite dark, where he watched the lights in the different windows till one appeared in Anne's bedroom, and she herself came forward to shut the casement with a candle in her hand. The light shone out upon the broad and deep mill-head, illuminating to a distinct individuality every moth and nat that entered the quivering chain of radiance stretching across the water towards him, and every bubble or atom of froth that floated into its width. She stood for some time, looking out, little thinking what the darkness concealed on the other side of that wide stream, till at length she closed the casement, drew the curtains, and retreated into the room. Presently the light went out, upon which John Loveday returned to camp, and lay down in his tent. The next morning was dull and windy, and the trumpets of the enth sounded rivally for the last time on over-come-down. Knowing that the dragoons were going away, Anne had slept heedfully, and was at once awakened by the smart notes. She looked out of the window, to find that the miller was already a stir, his white form being visible at the end of his garden, where he stood motionless, watching the preparations. Anne also looked on as well as she could through the dim, gray gloom, and soon she saw the blue smoke from the cook's fires creeping fifthly along the ground, as it had done during the fine weather season. Then the men began to carry their bedding to the wagon, others to throw all refuse into the trenches, till the down was lively as an anthill. Anne did not want to see John Loveday again. But hearing the householder stir, she began to dress at leisure, looking out at the camp for a while. When the soldiers had breakfasted, she saw them selling and giving away their super-lust crockery to the natives who had clustered round, and then they pulled down and cleared away the temporary kitchen constructed when they came. A tapping of tent-pegs and wriggling of picket-posts followed, and soon the cones of white canvas, now almost become a component part of the landscape, fell to the ground. At this moment the miller came indoors and asked at the foot of the stairs if anybody was going up the hill with him. Anne felt that, in spite of the cloud hanging over John in her mind, it would ill-become the present moment not to see him off, and she went downstairs to her mother, who was already there, though Bob was nowhere to be seen. Each took an arm of the miller, and thus climbed to the top of the hill. By this time the men and horses were at the place of assembly, and, shortly after he reached at level ground, the troops slowly began to move forward. When the trumpet-major, half-buried in his uniform, arms and horse-furniture, drew near to the spot where the love-days were waiting him past, his father turned anxiously to Anne and said, �He will shake hands with John!� Anne faintly replied, �Yes,� and allowed the miller to come forward on his arm to the trackway so as to be close to the flank of the approaching column. It came up, many people on each side grasping the hands of the troopers in bidding them farewell, and as soon as John Love-days saw the members of his father's household, he stretched down his hand across his right pistol for the same performance. The miller gave his, then of day gave hers, and then the hand of the trumpet-major was extended towards Anne. But as the horse did not absolutely stop, it was a somewhat awkward performance for a young woman to undertake, and more on that account than on any other, Anne drew back, and the gallant trooper passed by without receiving her adieu. Anne's heart repredged her for a moment, and then she thought that after all he was not going off to immediate battle, and that she would in all probability see him again at no distant date, when she hoped that the mystery of his conduct would be explained. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice at her elbow. Thank heaven he's gone. Now there's a chance for me." She turned, and Festus Derriman was standing by her. There's no chance for you, she said indignantly. Why not? Because there's another left. The words had slipped out quite unintentionally, and she blushed quickly. She would have given anything to be able to recall them, but he heard and said, Who? Anne went forward to the miller to avoid replying, and Festus caught her no more. Has any one he'd been hanging around over come mill except Loveday's son the soldier? He asked of a comrade. His son the sailor? Was reply. Oh, his son the sailor! said Festus slowly. Damn his son the sailor! End of Chapter 21. Recording by Simon Evers. Chapter 22 of the trumpet major. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers. The trumpet major, by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 22 The Two Households United. At this particular moment the object of Festus Derriman's fulminator's arrival. Bob, after abstractly watching the soldiers from the front of the house till they were out of sight, had gone within doors and seated himself in the mill-parler, where his father found him, his elbows resting on the table, and his forehead on his hands, his eyes being fixed upon a document that lay open before him. What up, bruising Bob with such a long face? Bob sighed, and then Mrs. Loveday and Anne entered. It is only a state paper that I fondly thought I should have a use for," he said gloomily, and looking down as before he cleared his voice, as if moved inwardly to go on, and began to read in feeling-tones from what proved to be his nullified marriage-licence. Timothy Titus Philemon, by permission, Bishop of Bristol, to our well-beloved Robert Loveday of the parish of Overcombe, Bachelor, and Matilda Johnson of the same parish, Spinster, greeting. Here Anne sighed, but contrived to keep down her sigh to amear nothing. "'Beautiful language, isn't it?' said Bob. I was never greeted like that afore. "'Yes, I have often thought it very excellent language myself. Stay.' "'Come to that. The old gentleman will greet thee like it again any day for a couple of guineas,' said the miller. "'That's not the point, Father. You never could see the real meaning of these things.' "'Well, then he goes on. Whereas ye are, as it is alleged, determined to enter into the holiest state of matrimony?' "'But why should I read on? It all means nothing now, nothing, and the splendid words are all wasted upon air. It seems if I had been hailed by some venerable whore if it had turned away, put the helm about, and wouldn't hear.' Nobody replied, feeling probably that sympathy could not meet the case. And Bob went on reading the rest of it to himself, occasionally heaving a breath like the wind in a ship's shrouds. "'I wouldn't set my mind so much upon her, if I was thee,' said his father at last. "'Why not?' "'Well, folk might call thee a fool, and say thy brains were turning to water.' Bob was apparently much struck by this thought, and instead of continuing the discourse further, he carefully folded up the license, went out, and went up and down the garden. It was startlingly apt what his father had said, and worse than that what people would call him might be true, and the liquefaction of his brains turned out to be no fable. By degrees he became much concerned, and the more he examined himself by this new light, the more clearly did he perceive that he was in a very bad way. On deflection he remembered that since Miss Johnson's departure his appetite had decreased amazingly. He'd eaten in meat no more than fourteen or fifteen ounces a day, but one-third of a quarton pudding on an average, in vegetables only a small heap of potatoes and half a York cabbage and no gravy, whatever, which, considering the usual appetite of a seaman for fresh food at the end of a long voyage, was no small index of the depression of his mind. Then he'd wait once every night, on one occasion twice. While dressing each morning since the gloomy day he had not whistled more than seven bars of a hornpipe without stopping, and falling into thought of a most painful kind, and he told none but absolutely true stories of foreign parts to the neighbouring villagers, when they saluted and clustered about him, as usual, for anything he chose to pour forth, except that story of the whale whose eye was about as large as the round pond in Delamond's Ulyse, which was like tempting fate to set a seal forever upon his tongue as a traveller. All his innovation, mental and physical, had been produced by Matilda's departure. He also considered what he had lost of the rational amusements of manhood during these unfortunate days. He might have gone to the neighbouring fashionable resort every afternoon, stood before lost to lodge till the king and queen came out, held his hat in his hand, and enjoyed their majesties smart at his homage all for nothing. Watched the picket-mounting, heard the different bands strike up, observed the staff, and, above all, have seen the pretty town girls go trip-trip along the Esplanade, deliberately fixing their innocent eyes on the distant sea, the grey cliffs, and the sky, and accidentally on the soldiers and in himself. "'I'll raise her up my image,' he said. "'She'll make her fool of me no more.' And his resolve resulted in conduct which had elements of real greatness. He went back to his father, whom he found in the middle loft. "'Tis true, Father, what you say,' he observed. "'My brains will turn to bilge-water, or I think of her much longer. By the oath of a navigator, I wish I could sigh less and laugh more. She's gone. Why can't I let her go and be happy? But I'll begin.' "'Take it careless, my son,' said the miller, "'and lay yourself out to enjoy snacks and cordials.' "'Ah, that's a thought,' said Bob. "'Backey is good for it. So is Spirits. Though I don't advise thee to drink neat.' "'Backey, I'd almost forget it,' said Captain Love-day. He went to his room, hastily untied the package of tobacco that he brought home, and began to make use of it in his own way, calling to David for a bottle of the old household mead that had laid in the cellar those eleven years. He was discovered by his father three-quarters of an hour later as a half-invisible object behind a cloud of smoke. The miller drew a breath of relief. "'Why, Barbie,' said, I thought, the house was a fire. "'I'm smoking rather fast to drum my reflection's father. It is no use to chore.' To tempt his attenuated appetite the unhappy mate made David cook an omelette and bake a seed-cake, the latter so richly compounded that it opened to the knife like a freckled butter-cup. With the same object he stuck night-lines into the banks of the mill-pond and drew up next morning a family of fat eels, some of which were skinned and prepared for his breakfast. They were his favourite fish, but such had been his condition that until the moment of making this effort he had quite forgotten their existence at his father's back door. In a few days Bob Love Day had considerably improved in tone and vigour. One other obvious remedy for his dejection was to indulge in the society of Miss Garland, love being so much more effectually got rid of by displacement than by attempted annihilation. But Love Day's belief that he had offended her beyond forgiveness, and his ever-present sense of her as a woman who by education and antecedence was fitted to adorn a higher sphere than his own, effectually kept him from going near her for a long time, notwithstanding that they were inmates of one house. The reserve was, however, in some degree broken by the appearance one morning, later in the season, of the point of a saw through the partition which divided Anne's room from the Love Day half of the house. Though she dined and supped with her mother and the Love Day family, Miss Garland had still continued to occupy her old apartments, because she find it more convenient there to pursue her hobbies of wool-work and of copying her father's old pictures. The division-wall had not, as yet, been broken down. As the saw worked its way downwards under her astonished gaze, Anne jumped up from her drawing, and presently the temporary canvassing and papering which had sealed up the old door of communication was cut completely through. The door burst open, and Bob stood revealed on the other side, with the saw in his hand. "'I beg your ladyship's pardon,' he said, taking off the hat he had been working in, as his handsome face expanded into a smile. I didn't know this door opened into your private room. "'Indeed, Captain Love Day. I'm putting down a division on principle as we are now one family, but I really thought the door opened into your passage. It don't matter. I can get another room. Not at all. Father wouldn't let me turn you out. I'll close it up again.' But Anne was so interested in the novelty of a new doorway that she walked through it, and found herself in a dark, low passage which she had never seen before. "'It leads to the mill,' said Bob. Would you like to go in and see it at work? But perhaps you have already.' Only into the ground floor. "'Come all over it. I am practising as grinder, you know, to help my father.' She followed him along the dark passage, in the side of which she opened a little trap, when she saw a great, slimy cavern where the long arms of the mill-wheel flung themselves slowly and distractedly round, and splashing water-drops caught the little light that strayed into the gloomy place, turning it into stars and flashes. A cold, mist-laden puff of air came into their faces, and the roar from within made it necessary for Anne to shout as she said, "'It is dismal. Let us go on.' Bob shut the trap, the roar ceased, and they went on to the inner part of the mill, where the air was warm and nutty and pervaded by a fog of fire. Then they ascended the stairs and saw the stones lumbering round and round, and the yellow corn running down through the hopper. They climbed yet further to the top-stage, where the wheat lay in bins, and where long rays, like feelers, stretched in from the sun through the little window, got nearly lost among cobwebs and timber, and completed their course by marking the opposite wall with a glowing patch of gold. In his earnestness as an exhibitor, Bob opened the bolter which was spinning rapidly round, the result being that of a dense cloud of flour rolled out in their faces, reminding Anne that her complexion was probably much paler by this time than when she had entered the mill. She thanked her companion for his trouble and said she would now go down. He followed her with the same deference as he had the two, and with a sudden and increasing sense that of all cures for his former unhappy passion, this would have been the nicest, the easiest, and the most effectual, if he had only been fortunate enough to keep her upon easy terms. But Miss Garland showed no disposition to go further than accept his services as a guide. She descended to the open air, shook the flower from her like a bird, and went on into the garden amid the September sunshine, whose rays laid level across the blue haze which the earth gave forth. The gnats were dancing up and down in airy companies, the stersham flowers shone out in groups from the dark hedge over which they climbed, and the mellow smell of the decline of summer was exhaled by everything. Bob Folleter, as far as the gate looked after her, thought of her as the same girl who had half encouraged him years ago when she seemed so superior to him, though now they were almost equal she apparently fought him beneath her. It was with a new sense of pleasure that his mind flew to the fact that she was now an inmate of his father's house. His obsequious bearing was continued during the next week. In the busy hours of the day they seldom met, but they regularly encountered each other at meals, and these cheerful occasions began to have an interest for him quite irrespective of dishes and cups. When Anne had untook her seat she was always loudly hailed by Miller Love Day as he wetted his knife. From Bob she condescended to accept no such familiar greeting, and they often sat down together as if each had a blind eye in the direction of the other. Bob sometimes told serious and correct stories about sea-captains, pilots, bosons, mates, able seamen, and other curious fauna of the marine world, but these were directly addressed to his father and Mrs. Love Day, and being included at the clenching point by a glance only. She sometimes opened bottles of sweet cider for her, and then she thanked him. But even this did not lead her uncut. One day when Anne was pairing an apple she was left at the table with the young man. "'I've made something for you,' he said. She looked all over the table. Nothing was there save the ordinary remnants. Oh! I don't mean that it is here. It's out by the bridge at the mill-head.' He arose, and Anne followed with curiosity in her eyes and with her firm little mouth pouted up to a puzzled shape. On reaching the mossy mill-head she found that he had fixed the keem-damp draft which always prevailed over the wheel, and the aeolian harp of large size. At present the strings were partly covered with a cloth. He lifted it, and the wires began to emit a weird harmony which mingled curiously with the plashing of the wheel. "'I made it on purpose for you, Miss Garland,' he said. She thanked him very warmly, for she had never seen anything like such an instrument before, and it interested her. It was very thoughtful of you to make it,' she added. "'How came you to think of such a thing?' "'Oh, I don't know exactly,' he replied, as if he did not care to be questioned on the point. I've never made one in my life till now. Every night after this joined the mournful gales of autumn, the strange, mixed music of water, wind, and strings met her ear, swelling and sinking with an almost supernatural cadence. The character of the instrument was far enough removed from anything she'd hitherto seen of Bob's hobbies, so that she marveled pleasantly at the new depths of poetry this contrivance revealed as existent in that young seamen's nature, and allowed her emotions to flow out yet a little further in the old direction, notwithstanding her late, severe resolve to bar them back. One breezy night, when the mill was kept going into the small hours, and the wind was exactly in the direction of the water current, the music so mingled with her dreams as to wake her. It seemed to rhythmically set itself to the words, "'Remember me, think of me.' She was much impressed, the sounds were almost too touching, and she spoke to Bob the next morning on the subject. "'How strange it is that you should have thought of fixing that harp where the water-gush is,' she gently observed. "'It affects me almost painfully at night. You are poetic, O Captain Bob, but it is too, too sad.' "'I'll take it away,' said Captain Bob promptly. "'It certainly is too sad, and I thought so myself. I myself was kept awake by it one night.' "'How came you to think of making such a peculiar thing?' "'Well,' said Bob, "'it's hardly worth saying why. It's not a good place for such a queer noisy machine, and I'll take it away.' "'On second thoughts,' said Anne, "'I should like it to remain a little longer, because it sets me thinking.' "'Of me?' he asked, with earnest frankness. Anne's colour rose fast. "'Well, yes,' she said, trying to infuse much plain matter of fact into her voice. "'Of course I am led to think of the person who invented it.' Bob seemed unaccountably embarrassed, and the subject was not pursued. About half an hour later he came to her again with something of an uneasy look. "'There was a little matter I didn't tell you just now, Miss Garland,' he said, "'about that harp thing, I mean. I did make it, certainly, but it was my brother John who asked me to do it, just before he went away. John's very musical, as you know, and he said it would interest you. But it didn't ask me to tell, I did not. Perhaps I ought to have, and not have taken the credit to myself.' "'Oh, it is nothing,' said Anne quickly. "'It is a very incomplete instrument, after all, and it will just as well for you to take it away as you first proposed.' He said that he would. But if you got to do it that day, and the following night there was a high wind, and the harp cried and moaned so movingly that Anne, whose window was quite near, could hardly bear the sound with its new associations. John Loveday was present to her mind all night as an ill-used man, and yet she could not own that she had ill-used him. The harp was removed next day. Bob, feeling that his credit for a rigid identity was damaged in her eyes by way of recovering it, set himself to paint the summer-house which Anne frequented, and when he came out he assured her that it was quite his own idea. "'What is it wanted doing, certainly?' she said, in a neutral tone. "'It is just about troublesome.' "'Yes, you can't quite reach up. That's because you're not very tall. Is it not, Captain Loveday?' "'You never used to say things like that.' "'Oh, I don't mean that you are much less than tall. Shall I help the paint-fear to save you stepping down?' "'Thank you, if you would.' She took the paint-pot and stood looking at the brush as it moved up and down in his hand. "'I hope I shall not sprinkle your fingers,' he observed as he dipped. "'Oh, that would not matter. You do it very well.' "'I'm glad to hear that you think so.' "'But perhaps not quite so much art is demanded to paint a summer-house as to paint a picture. Thinking that as a painter's daughter and a person of education superior to his own, she spoke with a flavour of sarcasm, he felt humble and said, "'You did not use to talk like that to me.' "'I was perhaps too young then to take any pleasure in giving paint,' she observed daringly. "'Does it give you pleasure?' And nodded. "'I liked to give paint to people who have given paint to me,' she said smartly, without removing her eyes from the green liquid in her hand. "'I ask you pardon for that. I didn't say I meant you, though I did mean you.' Bob looked and looked at her side-faced, and he was bewitched into putting down his brush. "'He was that stupid for getting at me for a time,' he exclaimed. "'Well, I hadn't seen you for so very long. Consider how many years!' "'Oh, dear Anne,' he said, advancing to take her hand, "'how well we knew one another when we were children! He was a queen to me then, and so you are now, and always. Possibly Anne was thrilled pleasantly enough at having brought the truant village lads to her feet again, and he was not to find the situation so easy as he imagined, and her hand was not to be taken yet. "'Very pretty,' she said, laughing, and only six weeks since Miss Johnson left. "'Zooms don't say anything about that,' implored Bob. "'I swear that I never deliberately loved her, for a long time together that is. It was a sudden sort of thing, you know. But towards you I have more or less honoured and respectfully loved you off and on all my life. "'There, that's true,' Anne retorted quickly. "'I am willing, off and on, to believe you, Captain Robert, but I don't see any good in your making these solemn declarations. Give me leave to explain, dear Miss Garland. It is to get you to be pleased to renew an old promise made years ago that you'll think of me.' "'Not a word of any promise will I repeat. "'Well, I won't urge you today. Only let me beg of you to get over the quite wrong notion you have of me, and it should be my whole endeavour to fetch your gracious favour,' Anne turned away from him and entered the house. Wither, in the course of a quarter-an-hour, he followed her, knocking at her door, and asking to be let in. She said she was busy, whereupon he went away, to come back again in a short time, and receive the same answer. "'I have finished painting the summer house for you,' he said through the door. "'I cannot come to see it. I shall be engaged till supper-time.' She heard him breathe a heavy sigh and withdraw, murmuring something about his bad luck in being cut away from the stern like this. But it was not over yet. When supper-time came, and they sat down together, she took upon herself to reprove him for what he had said to her in the garden. Job made his forehead express despair. "'Now I beg you this one thing,' he said, "'just let me know your whole mind. Then I shall have a chance to confess my faults and mend them, or clear my conduct to your satisfaction.' She answered with quickness, but not loud enough to be heard by the old people at the other end of the table. Then, Captain Loveday, I will tell you one thing, one fault, that perhaps should have been given more proper to my character than to yours. You are too easily impressed by new faces. And that gives me a bad opinion of you. Yes, a bad opinion.' "'Oh, that's it,' said Bob Stoly, looking at her with the intense respect of a pupil for a master, her words being spoken in a manner so precisely between jest and earnest, that he was in some doubt how they were to be received. Impressed by new faces. It is wrong, certainly, of me. The popping of a cork, and the pouring out of strong beer by the miller with a view to giving it a head, were apparently distractions sufficient to excuse her in not attending further to him. And, during the remainder of the sitting, her gentle chiding seemed to be sinking seriously into his mind. Perhaps her own heart ached to see how silent he was, but she had always meant to punish him. Day after day for two or three weeks she preserved the same demeanour with a self-control which did justice to her character. And on his part, considering what he had put up with, how she eluded him, snapped him off, refused to come out when he called her, refused to see him when he wanted to enter the little parlour which he now appropriated to her private use, his patience testified strongly to his good humour. CHAPTER XXIII Christmas had passed. Dreary winter with dark evenings had given place to more dreary winter with light evenings. Rapid thaws had ended in rain, rain in wind, wind in dust. Shari days had come, the season of pink dawns and white sunsets, and people hoped that the March weather was over. The chief incident that concerned the household of the mill, was that the miller, following the example of all his neighbours, had become a volunteer, and duly appeared twice a week in a red long-tailored-tree coat, piped cloches, black cloth gaiters, a heel-balled helmet hat with a tuft of green wool, and epaulettes of the same colour and material. Bob still remained neutral. Not being able to decide whether to enrol himself as a sea-fensible, a local militia man or a volunteer, he simply went on dancing attendance upon Anne. Mrs. Loveday had become awake to the fact that the pair of young people stood in a curious attitude towards each other, but as they were never with their heads together or sat even in the same room, she could not be sure what their movements meant. Strangely enough, or perhaps naturally enough, since entering the Loveday family herself, she had gradually grown to think less favourably of Anne doing the same thing, and reverted to her original idea of encouraging Festus. This more particularly because he had of late shown such perseverance in haunting the precincts of the mill, presumed with the intention of lighting upon the young girl. But the weather had kept her mostly indoors. One afternoon it was raining in torrents. Such leaves as there were on trees at this time of year, those of the laurel and other evergreens, sagged beneath the hard blows of the drops which fell upon them, and afterwards could be seen trickling down the stems beneath and silently entering the ground. The surface of the mill-pond leapt up in a thousand spurts under the same downfall, and clucked like a hen in the rat-holes along the banks as it undulated under the wind. The only dry spot visible from the front windows of the mill-house was the inside of a small shed on the opposite side of the courtyard. While Mrs. Loveday was noticing the threads of rain descending across its interior shade, Festus Derrimon walked up and entered it for shelter, which, owing to the lumber within, it but scandalily afforded to a man who would have been a match for one of Frederick Williams's Patagonians. It was an excellent opportunity for helping on her scheme, and was in the back room, and by asking him in till the rain was over, she would bring him face to face with her daughter, whom, as the days went on, she increasingly wished to marry other than a Loveday. Now that the romance of our own alliance with the miller had in some respects worn off. She was better provided for than before, she was not unhappy, but the plain fact was that she had married beneath her. She beckoned to Festus through the window-pane, he instantly complied with her signal, having in fact placed himself there on purpose to be noticed, for he knew that Miss Garland would not be out of doors on such a day. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Loveday, said Festus on entering, there now, if I didn't think that's how it would be. His voice had suddenly warmed to anger, for he had seen a door closed in the back part of the room, a lithe figure having previously slipped through. Mrs. Lovedale turned, observed that Anne was gone, and said, What is it, as if she did not know? Oh, nothing, nothing, said Festus crossily, you know well enough what it is, ma'am. How do you make pretence otherwise? But I'll bring her to book yet. You shall drop your haughty airs, my charmer. She little thinks I have kept an account of a wall. But you must treat her politely, sir, said Mrs. Loveday, secretly pleased at these signs of uncontrollable affection. Don't tell me of politeness or generosity, ma'am. She's more than a match for me. She regularly gets over me. I have passed by this house five and fifty times since last morning, ma'am. I said, This is all my reward for it. But you will stay till the rain is over, sir. No, I don't mind rain. I'm off again. She's got somebody else in her eye. And the emmer went out, slamming the door. Meanwhile, the slippery object of his hopes had gone along the dark passage, passed the trap which opened the wheel, and threw the door into the mill, where she was met by Bob, who looked up from the flower-shoot, inquiringly, and said, You want me, Miss Garland? Oh, no! said she. I only want to be allowed to stand here for a few minutes. He looked at her to know if she meant it, and finding that she did, returned to his post. When the mill had rumbled on a little longer, he came back. Bob, she said, when she saw him move, remember that you are at work and have no time to stand close to me. He barred, and went to his original post again, and watching from the window till Festus should leave. The mill rumbled on as before, and at last Bob came to her for the third time. Now, Bob, she began, Oh, my honoured is only to ask a question. Would you walk with me to church next Sunday afternoon? Perhaps I will, she said. But at this moment the yeoman left the house, and Anne, to escape further Pali, returned to the dwelling by the way she had come. The afternoon arrived, and the family were standing at the door waiting for the church bells to begin. From that side of the house they could see southward across a paddock to the rising ground further ahead, where they grew a large elm tree beneath whose boughs footpaths crossed in different directions like meridians at the pole. The tree was old, and in summer the grass beneath it was quite trodden away by the feet of the many tristas and idlers who haunted to the spot. The tree formed a conspicuous object in the surrounding landscape. While they looked, a foot soldier in red uniform and white britches came along one of the paths, and stopping beneath the elm took from his pocket a paper which he proceeded to nail up by the four corners to the trunk. He drew back, looked at it, and went on his way. Bob got his glass from indoors and leveled it at the placard, but after looking for a long time he could make out nothing but a lion and a unicorn at the top. Anne, who was ready for church, moved away from the door, though it was yet early, and showed her intention of going by way of the elm. The paper had been so impressively nailed up that she was curious to read it even at this theological time. Bob took the opportunity of following and reminded her of her promise. They're more behind me, not at all close, she said. Yes, he replied, immediately dropping behind. The ludicrous humility of his manner led her to add playfully over her shoulder. It serves you right, you know. I deserve anything, but I must take the liberty to say that I hope my behaviour above, but till forgetting you a while, will not make you wish to keep me always behind. She replied confidentially. Why I am so earnest not to be seen with you is that I may appear to people to be independent of you. Knowing what I do of your weakness is I can do no otherwise. You must be schooled into— Oh, Anne, sigh, Bob, you hit me hard, too hard. If ever I do win you, I'm sure I shall have fairly earned you. You are not what you once seemed to be, she returned softly. I don't quite like to let myself love you. The last words were not very audible, and as Bob was behind he caught nothing of them, nor did he see how sentimental she had become all of a sudden. They walked the rest of the way in silence, and come into the tree, red as follows, addressed to all ranks and descriptions of Englishmen, friends and countrymen. The French are now assembling the largest force that ever was prepared to invade this kingdom with the professed purpose of effecting our complete ruin and destruction. They do not disguise their intentions, as they have often done to other countries, but openly boast that they will come over in such numbers as cannot be resisted. Wherever the French have lately appeared, they have spared neither rich nor poor, old nor young, but, like a destructive pestilence, have laid waste and destroyed everything that before was fair and furrishing. On this occasion no man's service is compelled, but you are invited voluntarily to come forward in defense of everything that is dear to you, by entering your names on the lists which are sent to the tithing man of every parish, and engaging to act either as associated volunteers bearing arms, as pioneers and laborers, or as drivers of wagons. As associated volunteers you will be called up only once a week, unless the act or landing of the enemy shall render your further service is necessary. As pioneers or laborers you will be employed in breaking up roads to hinder the enemy's advance. Those who have pickaxes, spades, shovels, billhooks, or other working implements are desired to mention them to the considerable or tithing man of their parish in order that they may be entered on the lists opposite their homes to be used if necessary. It is sort desirable to give you this explanation that you may not be ignorant of the duties to which you may be called, but if the love of true liberty and honest fame has not ceased to animate the hearts of Englishmen, pay, though necessary, will be the least part of your reward. You will find your best recompense in having done your duty to your king and country by driving back or destroying your old and implacable enemy, envious of your freedom and happiness, and therefore seeking to destroy them. In having protected your wives and children from death or worse than death, which will follow the success of such inveterate foes. Rouse therefore, and unite as one man in the best of causes. United we may defy the world to conquer us, but victory will never belong to those who are slothful and unprepared. I must go and join up once," said Bob, and turned to him all the playfulness gone from her face. I wish we lived in the north of England, Bob, so as to be further away from where he'll land. She murmured uneasily. Where we are would be paradise to me if you would only make it so. It is not right to talk so lightly at such a serious time. She thoughtfully returned, going on towards the church. On drawing near they saw through the boughs of a clump of intervening trees, still leafless, but bursting into buds of amber hue, and littering, which seemed to be reflected from the points of steel. In a few moments they heard, above the tender chiming of the church bells, the loud voice of a man giving words of command, at which all the metallic points suddenly shifted like the bristles of a porcupine, and listened anew. "'Tis the drilling,' said Loveday, their drill now between the services, you know, because they can't get the men together so readily in the week. It makes me feel that I ought to be doing more than I am. When they passed round the belt of trees, the company of recruits became visible, consisting of the able-bodied inhabitants of the hamlets thereabout, more or less known to Bob and Anne. They were assembled on the green plot outside the churchyard gate, dressed in their common clothes, and the sergeant, who had been putting them through their drill, was the man who nailed up the proclamation. He was now engaged in untying a canvas money-bag from which he drew forth a handful of shillings, giving one to each man in payment for his attendance. "'Men, I dismissed you too soon. Parade, parade again,' I say." He cried. "'My watch is fast,' I find. "'There's another twenty minutes before the worship of God commences. Now all of you that hadn't got pharlocks fallen at the lower end. Eyes right, and dress.' As every man was anxious to see how the rest stood, those at the end of the line pressed forward for that purpose, till the line assumed the form of a bow. "'Look at ye now. Why are you all croaking in? Dress, dress!' They dressed forthwith, but impelled by the same motive. They soon resumed their former figure, and so they were despairingly permitted to remain. "'Now I hope you'll have a little patience,' said the sergeant, as he stood in the centre of the ark, and pay strict attention to the word of command, just exactly as I give it out to ye. And if I should go wrong, I should be much obliged to any friend who will put me right again, for I've only been in the army three weeks myself, and we are all liable to mistakes. "'So wee-bee, so wee-bee,' said the line heartily. "'Tension the whole, then. Boys, four locks. Very well done. "'Please, what must we do then? Got no four locks,' said the lower end of the line, in a helpless voice. "'Now is ever such a question. Why, you must do nothing at all, but think how you'd pose them if you had them. You middlemen that are armed with hurdle-sticks and cabbage-stumps, just to make believe, must of course use them if they were a real thing. Now then, gock, four locks, present, fire. Pretend to, I mean, and at the same time throw your imagination into the fueler-battle. Very good, very good indeed, except that some of you were a little too soon, and the rest a little too late. "'Please, Sergeant, can I fall out, as our master player in the choir and my base vile strings don't stand at this time of year, unless they be screwed up a little before the passin' comes in? How can you think of such trifles as church going at such a time as this, when your own native country is on the point of invasion?' said the sergeant sternly. And as you know, the drill ends three minutes before church begins, and that's the law, and it wants a quarter of an hour yet. Now, at the word prime, shake the powder, supposing you've got it, into the priming pan, three last fingers behind the rammer, then shut your pants, drawing your right arm, nimble-like towards your body. I ought to have told you before this that, at hand your cartridge, seize it, and bring it with a quick motion to your mouth, bite the top well off, and don't swallow so much of the powder as to make you hawk and spet instead of attending to your drill. What's that a man a-saying of in the rear rank? "'Please, sir, it is Anthony Cripple-Strawl, wanting to know how he used to bite off his cartridge when he hasn't a tooth left in his head. Why, what's your genius for war? Hold it up to your right-hand man's mouth, to be sure, and let him nip it off for you. Well, what have you to say, Private Tremlett? Don't you understand English?" "'Iest you proud and sergeant, but what must we infantry of the awkward squad do if bony comes a four-weeker of farlocks? Take a pike like the rest of the incapable's, you'll find a straw of them ready in the core of the church tower. Now then, shoulder!" "'There they be tinging in the parson,' exclaimed David, Miller Loveday's man, who also formed one of the company, as the bells changed from chiming all three together to a quick beating of one. The whole line drew a breath of relief, threw down their arms, and began running off. "'Well, then I must dismiss ye,' said the sergeant. "'Come back! Come back! Next drill is Tuesday afternoon at four. And mind, if your masters won't let ye leave work soon enough, tell me, and I'll write a line to government. Tension, to the right, left wheel. I mean, no, no, right wheel. March!' Some wheel to the right, and some to the left. And some obliging men, including crippled straw, tried to wheel both ways. "'Stop, stop, try again,' croaked some comrades. Unfortunately, when I'm in a hurry, I can never remember the right hand from the left, and never could as a boy. You must excuse me, please. Practice makes perfect, as the saying is, and much as I've learned since I listed, we always find something new. Now then, right wheel. March. Halt. Stand at ease. Miss!' I think that's the order it, but I'll look in the government booker for Tuesday. Many of the company who've been drilled preferred to go off and spend their shillings instead of entering the church, but Anne and Captain Bob passed in. Even the interior of the sacred edifice was affected by the agitation of the times. The religion of the country had, in fact, changed from love of God to hatred of Napoleon Bonaparte, and is to remind the devout of this alteration, the pikes for the pikemen, all those accepted men who were not otherwise armed, were kept in the church of each parish. There, against the wall, they always stood, a whole sheaf of them, formed of new ash-stems, with a spike driven in at one end, the stick being preserved from spitting by a ferrule. And there they remained, year after year, in the corner of the isle, till they were removed and placed under the gallery stairs, and thence ultimately to the belfry, where they grew black, rusty, and worm-eaten, and were gradually stolen and carried off by sextons, parish clarks, whitewashers, window menders, and other church servants, for use at home as rake-stems, benefit-club staves, and pick-handles, in which degraded situations they may still occasionally be found. But in their new and shining state they had a terror for Han, whose eyes were involuntarily drawn towards them as she sat at Bob's side during the service, filling her with bloody visions of their possible use not far from the very spot on which they were now assembled. The sermon, too, was on the subject of patriotism, so that when they came out she began to harp uneasily upon the probability that they had all been driven from their homes. Bob assured her that with the sixty thousand regulars the military reserve of a hundred and twenty thousand, and the three hundred thousand volunteers, there was not much to fear. But I sometimes have a fear that poor John will be killed, he continued after a pause, he is sure to be among the first that will have to face the invaders, and the troperters get picked off. There is the same chance for him as for the others, said Han. Yes, yes, the same chance, such as it is. You have never liked John since that affair of Matilda Johnson, have you? Why? She quickly asked. Well, said Bob timidly, as it is a ticklish time for him, would it be not worthwhile to make up any differences before the crash comes? I have nothing to make up, said Anne, with some distress. She still fully believed the trumpet-major to have smuggled away Miss Johnson because of his own interest in that lady, which much has made his professions to her a mere pastime. But that very conduct had in it the curious advantage to herself of setting Bob free. Since John has been gone, continued her companion, I have found out more of his meaning out of what he really had to do with that woman's flight. Do you know that he had anything to do with it? Yes. That he got it to go away. She looked at Bob with surprise. He was not exasperated with John, and yet he knew so much as this. He said, yes, she said, what did it mean? He did not explain to her then. But the possibility of John's death, which had been newly brought home to him by the military events of the day, determined him to get poor John's character cleared. Reproaching himself for letting her remain so long with a mistaken idea of him, Bob went to his father as soon as they got home, and begged him to get Mrs. Love Day to tell Anne the true reason of John's objection to Miss Johnson as a sister-in-law. She thinks it is because they were old lovers new met, and that he wants to marry her, he exclaimed to his father in conclusion. And that's the meaning of the split between Miss Jones, Nancy, and Jack, said the member. What, were there any more than common friends, asked Bob uneasily? Not on her side, perhaps. Well, we must do it, replied Bob, painfully conscious that common justice to John might bring them into hazardous rivalry, yet determined to be fair. Tell it all to Mrs. Love Day, and get her to tell Anne. End of Chapter 23, Recording by Simon Evers. Chapter 24 of The Trumpet Major. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers. The result of the explanation upon Anne was bitter self-reproach. She was so sorry at having wronged the kindly soldier, that next morning she went by herself to the down, and stood exactly where his tent had covered the sod on which he'd lain so many nights, thinking what sadness he must have suffered because of her at the time of packing up and going away. After that she wiped from her eyes the tears of pity which had come there, descended to the house, and wrote an impulsive letter to him, in which occurred the following passages, indiscreet enough, under the circumstances. I find all justice, all rectitude, on your side, John, and all impertinence, all inconsiderateness, on mine. I am convinced of your honour in the whole transaction, that I shall for the future mistrust myself in everything. And if it be possible, whenever I differ from you on any point, I should take an hour's time for consideration before I say that I differ. If I have lost your friendship, I have any myself to thank for it. But I sincerely hope that you can forgive. After writing this she went to the garden, where Bob was shearing the spring grass from the paths. What is John's erection, she said, holding the sealed letter in her hand? Exembury Barracks! Bob faltered, his countenance sinking. She thanked him and went indoors. When he came in later in the day he passed the door of our empty sitting-room and saw the letter on the mantelpiece. He disliked the sight of it. Hearing voices in the other room he entered and found Anne and her mother there talking to Cripplestraw, who had just come in with a message from Squire Derriman, requesting Miss Garland, as she had added the peace of mind of an old and troubled man, to go at once and see him. I cannot go, she said, not liking the risk that such a visit involved. An hour later Cripplestraw shambled again into the passage on the same errand. Maester's very poorly, and he hopes that he'll come, Mrs. Anne. She wants to see very particular about the French. Anne would have gone in a moment, but for the fear that someone besides the farmer might encounter her. And she answered as before. Another hour passed, and the wheels of her vehicle were heard. Cripplestraw had come for the third time, with a horse and gig. He was dressed in his best clothes, and brought with him on this occasion a basket containing raisins, almonds, oranges, and sweet cakes. Telling them to her as a gift from the old farmer, he repeated his request for her to accompany him, the gig and best mare having been sent as an additional inducement. I believe the old gentleman who is in love with you, Anne, said her mother. Why couldn't he drive down himself to see me, Anne inquired of Cripplestraw? He wants you at the house, please. Is Mr. Festus with him? No, he's away to Bubmuth. I'll go, said she. And I may come and meet you, said Bob. There's my letter. What shall I do about that? she said, instead of answering him. Take my letter to the post-office, and you may come. She added. He said yes, and went out, Cripplestraw retreating to the door till she should be ready. What letter is it? said her mother. Only one to John, said Anne. I have asked him to forgive my suspicions. I could do no less. Do you want to marry him? asked Mrs. Loveday, bruntly. Mother! Well, he will take that letter as an encouragement. Can't you see that he will, you foolish girl? Anne did see instantly. Of course, she said, tell Robert that he need not go. She went to her room to secure the letter. It was gone for the mantelpiece, and on the inquiry it was found that the miller, seeing it there, had sent to Davy with it to Babmuth hours ago. Anne said nothing, and set out for Oxwell Hall with Cripplestraw. William sent Mrs. Loveday to the miller when Anne was gone, and Bob had resumed his work in the garden. Did you get that letter sent off on purpose? Well, I did. I wanted to make sure of it. John likes her, and now it will be made up, and why shouldn't he marry her? I'll start him in business, if so be she'll have him. But she is likely to marry Fester's dinnerman. I don't want her to marry anybody but John, said the miller, doggedly. What if she is in love with Bob, and as beer has been for years, and he with her? asked his wife triumphantly. In love with Bob, and he with her? repeated Loveday. Certainly, said she, going off and leaving him to his reflections. When Anne reached the hall, she found old Mr. Derriman in his customary chair. His complexion was more ashen, but his movement, in rising at her entrance, putting a chair and shutting the door behind her, were much the same as usual. Thank God you've come, my dear girl, he's heard honestly. Ah, you don't trip across to read to me now. Why did he cost me so much to fetch you? Five, a horse and a gig and a man's timing going three times. What I sent to you cost a good deal in Budmouth Market. Now, everything is so dear there, and would have cost more if I hadn't bought the raisins and oranges some months ago when they were cheaper. I tell you this, because we are old friends, and I have nobody else to tell my troubles to. But I don't regard you anything to you since you've come. I am not much pleased to come, even now, said she. What can make you so seriously anxious to see me? Would you be a good girl and true, and I've been thinking that of all people of the next generation that I can trust, you are the best. It is my bonds and my title deeds, such as they be, and the leases, you know, and a few guineas in packets, and more than these, my will that I have to speak about. Now, do ye come this way? Oh, such things as those! She returned with surprise. I don't understand those things at all. There's nothing to understand. It is just this. The venture will be here within two months. That's certain. I have it on the best authority that the army at Boulogne is ready, the boats equipped, the plans laid, and the first consul only waits for a tide. Heaven knows what will become of the men over these parts. But most likely the women will be spared. Now I'll show ye. He led her across the hall to a stone staircase of semicircular plan which conducted to the cellars. Down here, she said. Yes, I must trouble ye to come down here. I have thought and thought who is the woman that can best keep a secret for six months, and I say, I am garland. You won't be married before then? Oh, no! murmured the young woman. I wouldn't expect ye to keep a close tongue after such a thing as that, but it will not be necessary. When they reached the bottom of the steps he struck a light from a tinder-box and unlocked the middle one of three doors which appeared in the white-wast wall opposite. The rays of the candle fell upon the vault and sides of a long, low cellar littered with decayed woodwork from other parts of the hall, among the rest stair balusters, carved vinyls, tracery panels, and wainscoting. But what most attracted her eye was a small flag-stone turned up in the middle of the floor, a heap of earth beside it, and a measuring-tape. Derrimon went to the corner of the cellar and pulled out a clamped box from under the straw. You'd be rather heavy, my dear, eh? he said, affectionately addressing the box as he lifted it. But you're going to be put in a safe place, you know, or that rascal will get hold of you, and you carry he often ruin me. He then, with some difficulty, lowered the box into the hole, raked in the earth upon it, and lowered the flag-stone, which he was a long time in fixing to his satisfaction. Miss Garland, who was romantically interested, helped him to brush away the fragments of loose earth, and when he had scattered over the floor into the straw that lay about, they again ascended to upper air. Is that all, sir? said Anne. Just a moment longer, honey. Would you come into the Great Parlor? She followed him thither. If anything happens to me while the fighting is going on, maybe on these very fields, you will know what to do, he resumed. But first, please sit down again, there's a dear, while I write what's in my head. See, there's the best paper, and a new quill that I've afforded myself for it. What a strange business! I don't think I much like it, Mr. Derriman," she said, seating herself. He had by this time begun to write, a murmur as he wrote. Twenty-three and a half from N.W., sixteen and three-quarters from N.E. There, that's all. Now I seat it up, and give it to you to keep safe till I ask you for it, or you hear of my being trampled down by the enemy. What does it mean?" she asked, as she received the paper. Ha! Ha! Why, that's the distance of the box from the two corners of the cellar. I measured it before you came. Am I, honey, to make sure of the French soldier here after ye tell your mother the meaning on it, or any other friend, in case they should put ye to death, and the secret be lost? But that I am sure I hope they won't do, though your pretty face will be a sad bait to the soldiers. I often have wished ye was my daughter, honey, and in these times the less cares a man has the better, so I'm glad ye banked. Shall my man drive ye home? No, no, no," she said, much depressed by the words ye'd uttered. I can find my way. You need not trouble to come down? Then take care of the paper, and if ye outlive me, ye'll find, I have not forgot ye. CHAPTER XXV. Festus shows his love. Festus Derriman had remained in the royal water in place all that day, his horse been sick at stables. But wishing to coax or bully from his uncle a remount for the calming summer, he set off on foot for Oxwell early in the evening. When ye drew near to the village, or rather to the hall, which was a mile from the village, he overtook a slim, quick-eyed woman, sauntering along at a leisurely place. She was fashionably dressed in a green spencer with mawaluke sleeves, and wore a velvet Spanish hat and feather. "'Good afternoon to ye, ma'am,' said Festus, throwing a sword and pistol-air into his greeting. "'You are out for a walk?' "'I am out for a walk, Captain,' said the lady, who criticized him from the crevice of our eye, without seeming to do much more than continue her demure look forward, and gave the title as a sop to his apparent character. "'From the town?' "'I'd swear it, ma'am, upon my honour I would.' "'Yes, I am from the town, sir,' said she. "'Ah! You are a visitor. I know every one of the regular inhabitants. We soldiers are in and out there continually.' "'Festus, gentlemen, ye men in cavalry, you know. The fact is the watering-place is under our charge. The folks will be quite dependent upon us for their deliverance in the coming struggle. We hold our lives in our hands, and theirs, I may say, in our pockets. "'What made you come here, ma'am, at such a critical time?' "'I don't see that it is such a critical time.' "'Ah! But it is, though, and you'd say if you was as much mixed up with the military affairs of the nation as some of us.' "'Ladies Mild, the king is coming this year anyhow,' said she. "'Never,' said Festus firmly. "'Ah! You are one of the attendants at court, perhaps. Come on ahead to give the king's chambers ready, in case Bernie should not land.' "'No,' she said. "'I am connected with the theatre, though not just at the present moment. I have been out of luck for the last year or two, but I have fetched up again. I join the company when they arrive for the season.' Festus surveyed her with interest. "'And is it so? Well, ma'am, what part do you play?' "'I am mostly the leading lady, the heroine,' she said, drawing herself up with dignity. "'Ah! Come and have a look at ye of all's well, and the manning is put—hang me, if I don't. Hello, hello, what do I see?' His eyes were stretched towards a distant field, which Anne Garland was at that moment hastily crossing on her way from the hall to Overcombe. "'I must be off. Good day to you, dear creature,' he exclaimed, hurrying forward. The lady said, "'Oh, you droll monster!' And she smiled, and watched him stride ahead. Festus bound it on over the hedge, across the intervening patch of green, and into the field which Anne was still crossing. In a memble to-two she looked back, and seeing the well-known Herculium figure of the yeoman behind her felt rather alarmed, though she determined to show no difference in her outward carriage. But to maintain her natural gait was beyond her powers. She spazmodedly quickened her pace fruitlessly, however, for he gained upon her a mirage of her exclaimed, "'Well, my darling!' Anne started off at her run. Festus was already out of breath, and soon found that he was not likely to overtake her. On she went, without turning her head, till an unusual noise behind compelled her to look round. His face was in the act of falling back. He swerved on one side, and dropped like a log upon a convenient hedgerow-bank which bordered the path. There he lay, quite still. Anne was somewhat alarmed, and after standing at gaze for two or three minutes drew nearer to him a step and a half at a time, wondering and doubting, as Amique Eew draws near to some strolling vagabond who flings himself on the grass near the flock. "'He's in a swoon,' she murmured. Her heart beat quickly, and she looked around. Nobody was in sight. She advanced to step nearer still, and observed him again. Apparently his face was turning to a livid hue, and his breathing had become obstructed. "'Tis not a swoon, tis apoplexly,' she said in deep distress. "'I ought to untie his neck.' But she was afraid to do this, and only drew a little closer still. Miss Garland was now within three feet of him, whereupon the sand, who could hold his breath no longer, sprang to his feet and darted at her, saying, "'Ha-ha! A scheme for a kiss!' She felt his arm slipping round her neck. But twirling about with amazing dexterity, she wriggled from his embrace, and ran away along the field. The force with which she had extricated herself was sufficient to throw festus upon the grass, and by the time that he got upon his legs again, she was many yards off. Uttering a word, which was not exactly a blessing, he immediately gave chase, and thus they ran till Anne entered a meadow divided down the middle by a brook about six feet wide. An arrow-plank was thrown loosely across at the point where the path traversed this stream, and when Anne reached it she had once scampered over. At the other side she turned her head to gather the probabilities of the situation which were that festus Derrimon would overtake her even now. By a sudden forethought she stooped, seized the end of the plank, and endeavoured to drag it away from the opposite bank. But the weight was too great for her to do more than slightly move it, and with a desperate sigh she ran on again, having lost many valuable seconds. But her attempt, though ineffectual in dragging it down, had been enough to unsettle the little bridge, and when Derrimon reached the middle, which she did half a minute later, the plank turned over on its edge, tilting him bodily into the river. The water was not remarkably deep, but as the Yeoman fell flat on his stomach he was completely immersed, and it was some time before he could drag himself out. When he arose, dripping on the bank, and looked around, Anne had vanished from the mead. Then festus' eyes glowed like carbuncles, and he gave voice to fearful implications, shaking his fist in the soft summer air towards Anne, in a way that was terrible for any maiden to behold. Waiting back through the stream, he walked along its bank with a heavy tread, the water running from his coat-tales, wrists, and the tips of his ears, in silvery dribbles that sparkled pleasantly in the sun. Thus he hastened away, and went round by a bypass to the hall. Meanwhile the author of his troubles was rapidly drawing nearer to the mill, and soon, to an inexpressible delight, she saw Bob coming to meet her. She had heard the flounce, and feeling more secure from her pursuer, had dropped her pace to a quick walk. No sooner did she reach Bob than overcome by the excitement of the moment, she flung herself into his arms. Bob instantly enclosed her in an embrace so very thorough that there was no possible danger for her falling whatever degree of exhaustion might have given rise to her somewhat unexpected action. And in this attitude they silently remained, till it was born in upon Anne that the present was the first time in her life that she had ever been in such a position. Her face then burnt like a sunset, and she did not know how to look up at him. Feeling at length quite safe, she suddenly resolved not to give way to her first impulse to tell him the whole of what had happened, lest there should be a dreadful quarrel and fight between Bob and the Yeoman, and great difficulties caused the Lovedale family on her account, the miller having important wheat transactions with the Dermons. "'You seem frightened, dearest Anne,' said Bob tenderly. "'Yes,' she replied, "'I saw a man I did not like the look of, and he was inclined to follow me, but worse than that I am troubled about the French. Oh, Bob, I am afraid you will be killed, and my mother and John, and your father, and all of us hunted down. "'Now I have told you, dear little heart, that it cannot be. We shall drive him into the sea after a battle or two, even if they land, which I don't believe they will. We have got ninety sale of the line, and though it is rather unfortunate that we should have declared war against Spain at this tickish time, as enough for all.' Bob went into elaborate statistics of the Navy, Army, militia, and volunteers, to prolong the time of holding her. When he had done speaking, he drew rather a heavy sigh. "'What's the matter, Bob?' "'I haven't been yet to offer myself as a sea-fensible, and I ought to have done it long ago.' "'You are only one. Surely they can do without you?' Bob shook his head. She arose from her restful position, her eye catching his with the shame-faced expression of having given way at last. Love-day drew from his pocket a paper, and said as they slowly walked on, "'Here is something to make us brave and patriotic. I bought it in Budmouth. Isn't it a stirring picture?' It was a hieroglyphic profile of Napoleon. The hat represented a maimed French eagle. The face was ingeniously made up of human carcasses, knotted and writhing together in such directions as to form a physiognomy. A band or stock shaped to resemble the English Channel encircled his throat, and seemed to choke him. His epaulet was a hand tearing a cobweb that represented the Treaty of Peace with England, and his ear was a woman crouching over a dying child. "'It is dreadful, Sir Anne. I don't like to see it.'" She had recovered from her emotion, and walked along beside him with a grave, subdued face. Bob did not like to assume the privileges of an accepted lover, and draw her hand through his arm. For, conscious that she naturally belonged to a politer grave than his own, he feared lest her exhibition of tenderness were an impasse which cooler moments might regret. A perfect Paul and Virginia life had not absolutely set in for him as yet, and it was not to be hastened by force. When they had passed over the bridge into the mill-front, they saw the miller standing at the door with a face of concern. "'Since you've been gone,' he said, "'a government man has been here, and to all the houses, taking down the numbers of the women and children and their ages, and the numbers of horses and wagons that can be mustered, in case they have to retreat inland out of the way of the invading army.'" The little family gathered themselves together, all feeling the crisis more seriously than they liked to express. She loved a thought how ridiculous a thing social ambition was in such a conjuncture as this, and vowed that she would leave Anne to love where she would. Anne, too, forgot the little peculiarities of speech and manner in Bob and his father, which sometimes jarred for a moment upon her more refined sense, and was thankful for their love and protection in this looming trouble. On going upstairs she remembered the paper which Farmer Derriman had given her, and searched in her bosom for it. She could not find it there. "'I must have left it on the table,' she said to herself. It did not matter, she remembered every word. She took a pen and wrote a duplicate which she put safely away. But Anne was wrong. She had, after all, placed the paper where she supposed, and there it ought to have been. But in escaping from Festus when he feigned apoplexy it had fallen out upon the grass. Five minutes after that event, when pursuer and pursued were two or three fields ahead, the gaily dressed woman whom the woman had overtaken peeped cautiously through the style into the corner of the field which had been the scene of the scramble, and seeing the paper she climbed over, secured it, loosened the wafer without tearing the sheet, and read the memorandum within. Unable to make anything of its meaning, the saunterer put it in her pocket, and dismissing the matter from her mind went on by the by-path which led to the back of the mill. Here, behind the hedge, she stood and surveyed the old building for some time, after which she meditatively turned and retraced her steps towards the royal watering-place. CHAPTER XXVI. The night which followed was historic and memorable. Mrs. Loveday was awakened by the boom of a distant gun. She told the miller, and they listened awhile. The sound was not repeated, but such was the state of their feelings that Mr. Loveday went to Bob's room and asked if he had heard it. Bob was wide awake looking out of the window. He had heard the ominous sound, and was inclined to investigate the matter. While the father and son were dressing, they fancied that a glare seemed to be rising in the sky in the direction of the beacon-hill. Publishing to alarm Anne and her mother, the miller assured them that Bob and himself were merely going out of doors to inquire into the cause of the report, after which they plunged into the gloom together. A few steps' progress opened up more of the sky, which, as they had thought, was indeed irradiated by a lurid light. But whether it came from the beacon, or from a more distant point, they were unable to clearly tell. They pushed on rapidly towards higher ground. An excitement was merely of a piece with that of all men at this critical juncture. Everywhere expectation was at fever-heat. For the last year or two, only five and twenty miles of shallow water had divided quiet English homesteads from an enemy's army of a hundred and fifty thousand men. We had taken the matter lightly enough, eating and drinking as in the days of no, and singing satires without end. We ponded on Bonaparte and his gum-boats, chalked his effigy on stagecoaches, and published the same in prints. Still, between these bursts of hilarity it was sometimes recollected that England was the only European country which had not succumbed to the mighty little man who was less than human in feeling and more than human in will, that our spirit of resistance was greater than our strength, and that the channel was often calm. Boats built of wood, which was greenly growing in its native forest three days before it was bent as wails to their sides, were ridiculous enough, but they might be, after all, sufficient for a single trip between two visible shores. The English watched Bonaparte in these preparations, and Bonaparte watched the English. At the distance of Boulogne details were lost, but we were impressed on fine days by the novel site of a huge army moving and twinkling like a school of mackerel under the rays of the sun. The regular way of passing an afternoon in the coastal towns was to stroll up to the signal posts and chat with the lieutenant on duty there about the latest inimical object seen at sea. About once a week there appeared in the newspapers, either a paragraph concerning some adventurous English gentleman who'd sailed out on a pleasure boat till he lay near enough to be loin to see Bonaparte standing on the heights among his marshals, or else some lines about a mysterious stranger with a foreign accent who, after collecting a vast deal of information on our resources, had hired a boat at a southern port and vanished with it towards France before his intention could be divined. In forecasting his grand venture, Bonaparte postulated the help of Providence to a remarkable degree. Just at the hour when his troops were on board the flat bottom boats and ready to sail, there was to be a great fog that should spread a vast obscurity of the length and breadth of the channel and keep the English blind to events on the other side. The fog was to last twenty-four hours, after which it might clear away. A dead calm was to prevail simultaneously with the fog, with the twofold object of affording the boat's easy transit and dooming our ships to lie motionless. Thirdly, there was to be a spring tide which should combine its maneuvers with those of the fog and calm. Among the many thousands of minor Englishmen whose lies were affected by these tremendous designs may be numbered our old acquaintance Corporal Tullidge, who sported the crushed arm, and poor old Simon Burden, the dazed veteran who had fought at Minden. Instead of sitting snugly in the saddle of the old ship in the village adjoining overcoum, they were obliged to keep watch on the hill. They made themselves as comfortable as was possible in the circumstances, dwelling in a hut of clods and turf with a brick chimney for cooking. Here they observed the nightly progress of the moon and stars, grew familiar with the heaving of moles, the dancing of rabbits on the hillocks, the distant hoot of owls, the bark of foxes from woods further inland, but saw not a sign of the enemy. As night after night they walked round the two ricks which it was their duty to fire at a signal, one being of furs for a quick flame, the other of turf for a long slay radiance. They thought and talked of old times, and drank patriotically from a large wood-flaggon that was filled every day. Bob and his father soon became aware that the light was from the beacon. By the time that they reached the top it was one mass of tiring flame from which the sparks fell on the green herbage like a fiery dew, the forms of the two old men being seen passing and repassing in the midst of it. The Lovedays, who came up on the Snape's murky side, regarded the scene for a moment, and then emerged into the light. "'Who goes there?' said Corporal Tonnage, shouldering a pike with his sound arm. "'Oh! It is neighbour Loveday.' "'Did you get your signal to fire it from the east?' said the Miss Milla Haisley. "'No, from Aberdeen Sea Beach.' "'But you're not to go by a coast signal.' "'Chock it all. Wasn't the lord left hand's direction, whenever you see rain-barrels beacon-burn to the north-easterd, or haggarden to the north-westward, or the actual presence of the enemy on the shore?' "'But is he here?' "'No doubt on it. The beach-light's only just gone down, and Simon heard the guns even better than I.' "'Hark! Hark! I hear him,' said Bob.' They listened with parted lips, the night wind blowing through Simon Burden's few teeth as through the ruins of Stonehenge. From far down on the lower levels came the noise of wheels and the tramp of horses upon the Turnpike Road. "'Well, there must be something in it,' said Milla Loveday, gravely. "'Bob, we'll go home and make the women folk safe, and then I'll don my soldiers' clothes and be off. God knows where our company will assemble.' They hastened down the hill, and on getting into the road waited and listened again. Travellers began to come up and pass them in vehicles of all descriptions. It was difficult to attract their attention in the dim-light, but by standing on the top of a wall which fenced the road, Bob was at last a scene. "'What's the matter?' he cried to a butcher who was flying past in his cart, his wife sitting behind him without a bonnet. "'French have landed,' said the man, without drawing rain. "'Where?' shouted Bob. "'In West Bay, and old Bumpeth is in uproar,' replied the voice, now faint in the distance. Bob and his father hastened on till they reached their own house, as they had expected, Anne and her mother, in common with most of the people, were both dressed, and stood at the door bonneted and shawled, listening to the traffic on the neighbouring highway. Mrs. Lovedale, having secured what money and small valuables they possessed, in a huge pocket which extended all round her waist, and added considerably to her weight and diameter. "'Tis true enough,' said the miller, he's come. "'You and Anne and the maid must be off to Cousin Jimbs at Kingsbeer, and when you get there you must do as they do. "'I must assemble with the company.' "'And I?' said Bob. "'Thou has spent a run to the church, and take a pike before they all be gone.' The horse was put into the gig, and Mrs. Lovedale, Anne, and the servant maid were hastily packed into the vehicle, the latter taking the reins. David's duties as a fighting man forbidding all thought of his domestic offices now. Then the silver-tankered teapot, a pair of candlesticks like ionic columns and other articles too large to be pocketed, were thrown into a basket and put up behind. Then came the leave-taking, which was as sad as it was hurried. Bob kissed Anne, and there was no affectation in her receiving that mark of affection as she said through her tears, "'God bless you!' At last they moved off from the dim light of dawn, neither of the three women knowing which road they were to take, but trusting to chance to find it. As soon as they were out of sight, Bob went off for a pike, and his father, first new-flinting his far-lock, proceeded to don his uniform, pipe-claying his britches with such cursory haste as to bespatter his black gaiters with the same ornamental compound, finding when he was ready that no bugle has it yet sounded. He went with David to the cart-house, dragged out the wagon, and put therein some of the most useful and easily handled goods in case there might be an opportunity for conveying them away. By the time this was done, and the wagon pushed back and locked in, Bob had returned with his weapon somewhat mortified at being doomed to this low form of defence. The miller gave his son a parting grasp of the hand, and arranged to meet him at Kingsbeer at the first opportunity, if the news were true, if happily false, here at their own house. Father it all, he exclaimed, looking at his stock of flints. What? said Bob. I've got no ammunition, not a blessed round. What's the use of going? asked his son. The miller paused. Oh, I'll go, he said. Perhaps somebody will limit it a little if I get into a hot corner. Lead ye a little, father. He was always so simple, said Bob reproachfully. Well, I can't bagnet a few, anyway, said the miller. The bugle had been blown ere this, and Love Day the father disappeared towards the place of assembly, his empty cartridge box behind him. Bob seized a brace of loaded pistols which he had brought home from the ship, and, armed with these and a pike, he locked the door and saluted out again towards the term Pike Road. By this time the yeomanry of the district were also on the move, and amongst them Festus Derriman, who was sleeping at his uncle's, and had been awakened by Cripplestraw. About the time when Bob and his father were descending from the beacon, the stalwart yeoman was standing in the table-yard adjusting his straps, while Cripplestraw saddled the horse. Festus, clanked up and down, looked gloomily at the beacon, heard the retreating carts and carriages, and called Cripplestraw to him, who came from the stable leading the horse at the same moment that Uncle Benjy peeped unobserved from a mullion window above their heads, the distant light of the beacon far touching up his features to the complexion of an old brass clock-face. "'I think that before I start,' Cripplestraw said Festus, whose lurid visit was undergoing a bleaching process curious to look upon, you shall go on to Budmouth and make a bold inquiry whether the cowardly enemy is on shore as yet, or any looming in the bay.' "'I go in a moment, sir,' said the other, if I hadn't me bad leg again. I should have joined me company for all this, but they said at last drill that I was too old. So I shall wait up in the halo for tidings as soon as I have packed you off, poor gentleman.' "'Do such alarms as these Cripplestraw ever happen without foundation? Bonaparte is a wretch, a miserable wretch, and this may be only a false alarm to disappoint such as me.' "'Oh, no, sir, oh, no. But sometimes there are false alarms?' "'Well, yes, sir, yes, there was a pretended Sallio gumboats last year. And was there nothing else pretended, something more like this, for instance?' Cripplestraw shook his head. "'I noticed your modesty, Mr. Festus, in making light of things, but there never was, sir. You made a punt upon it. He's come.' "'Thank God my duty as a local don't require me to go to the front. But only the valiant men, like my master.' "'Ah, if Bode could only see now, sir, he knowed too well there is nothing to be got from such a determined, skilful officer, but blows and musket-balls.' "'Yes, yes, Cripplestraw, if I ride off to Budmouth and meet them, all my training will be lost. No skill is required, as the forlorn hope.' "'Mmm, true there's a point, sir. You'd outshine them all, and be picked off at the very beginning as a too-dangerous brave man. But if I stay here and urge on the faint-hearted ones, or get up into the turret stair by that gateway and pop the invaders through the loophole, I shouldn't be so completely wasted, should I?' "'You would not, Mr. Durhamon. But as you was going to say next, the fire in your veins won't let you do that. You are valiant. Very good. You don't want a husband, you're valiant, at home. That argument is plain. If my birth had been more obscure, murmured the yeoman, and I'd only been in the militia, for instance, or among the humble pikemen, so much wouldn't have been expected of me, of my fiery nature. Cripplestraw, is there a drop of brandy to be got at that end of the house? I don't feel very well.' "'Dear nephew,' said the old man from above, whom neither of the others had yet noticed, I haven't any spirits open, so unfortunate. But there's a beautiful barrel of crab-apple cider in draft, and there's some cold tea from last night.' "'What? Is he listening?' said Festus, staring up. "'Now, I warrant how glad he is to see me forced to go, called out of bed without breakfast, and he quite safe and short of escape because, you know, old man. Cripplestraw, I'd like to be in the yeoman recovery, but I wish I hadn't been in the ranks. I wish I had been out of the surgeon to stay in the rear while the bodies had brought back to him. I mean, I should have thrown my heart at such a time as this more into the labor of restoring wounded men and joining their shattered limbs together. More than I can into causing the wounds, I'm too humane, Cripplestraw, for the ranks.' "'Yes,' said his companion, depressing his spirits to a kindred level. And yet, such is fate, that instead of joining men's limbs together, you have to get your own joined, poor young soldier, all through having such a warlike soul.' "'Yes,' murmured Festus, and paused. "'You can't think how strange I feel here, Cripplestraw,' he continued, laying his hand upon the central buttons of his waistcoat. How I do wish I was any of the surgeon.' He slowly mounted. An Uncle Benjy, in the meantime, sang to himself as he looked on. "'Twenty-three-and-a-half from N.W., sixteen-and-three-quarters from N.E.' "'What's that old mummy singing?' Festus savagely. "'Orly a hymn for preservation from our enemies, dear nephew,' meekly replied the farmer, who'd heard the remark. "'Twenty-three-and-a-half from N.W.' Festus allowed his horse to move on a few paces, and then turned again, as if struck by a happy invention. "'Cripplestraw,' he began, with an artificial laugh, "'I'm obliged to confess. After all, I must see her. It isn't nature that makes me draw back. It is love. I must go and look for her.' "'A woman, sir?' "'I didn't want to confess it, but it is a woman. Strange that I should be drawn so entirely against my natural wish to rush at him.' Cripplestraw, seeing which way the wind blew, found it advisable to blow in harmony. "'Ah! Now at last I see, sir. Despite that few men live that worthy to be command ye, Despite that you could rush on, martyre the troops to victory, as I might say, but then what of it? There's the unhappy fate of being smitten with the eyes of a woman, and you are unmanned.' "'Mister Derryman, who is himself when he's got a woman round his neck, like a millstone?' "'It is something like that.' "'I feel the case. Be you valiant?' "'I know, of course, the words being a matter of form. Be you valiant,' I ask. "'Yes, of course.' "'Then don't you waste it in the open field?' "'Hold it up, I say, sir, for a higher class of war, the defence of your adorable lady. Think what you owe her of this terrible time. Now, myister Derryman, once more I ask ye to cast off that first haughty wish to rush to Bobmuth, and to go where your missus is defenceless and alone.' "'I will, Cripplestraw. Now you put it like that.' "'Thank ye, thank ye, Hartley, myster Derryman. Go now and hide with her.' "'But, but, but, can I?' "'Now, hang, Patrick, can a man hide without a stain?' "'Of course, I would not hide in any mean sense. No, not I.' "'If you be in love, it is plain you may, since it is not your own life, but another's, that you are concerned for, and you only save your own, because it can't be helped.' "'It is true, Cripplestraw, in a sense, but would he be understood that way? Will they see it as a brave hiding?' "'Now, sir, if you not been in love, I owed to ye that hiding would look queer. But being to save the tears, groans, fits, woundings, and perhaps death of a comely young woman, your principle is good. You honourably retreat, because you be too gallant to advance. This strange strange, ye may say, sir, but it is plain enough to less fire your minds.' Festus did for a moment try to uncover his teeth in a natural smile. But he died away. "'Cripplestraw, you flatter me, or do you mean it? Well, there's truth in it. I'm more gallant in going to her than in marching to the shore. But we cannot be too careful about our good names, be so as I must not be seen. I'm off.' Cripplestraw opened the hurdle which closed the arch under the Portico gateway, and Festus passed under. Uncle Benjamin singing, twenty-three-and-a-half from N.W., with a sort of sublime ecstasy, feeling as Festus had observed that his money was safe, and that the French would not personally molest an old man in such a ragged, mildewed coat as that he wore, which he'd taken the precaution to borrow from a scarecrow of one of his fields for the purpose. Festus rode on full of his intention to seek out Anne, and undercover of protecting her retreat accompanied her to Kingsborough, where he knew the Lovedays had relatives. In the lane he met Granny Seymour, who, having packed up all her possessions in a small basket, was placidly retreating to the mountains till all should be over. "'Well, Granny, have you seen the French?' asked Festus. "'No,' she said, looking out of him through her brazen spectacles. "'If I had, I shouldn't have seen thee!' "'Fuck!' replied the yogaman, and rode on. Thus as he reached the old road which he had intended merely to cross and avoid, his countenance fell. Some troops of regulars who appeared to be dragoons were rattling along the road. Festus hastened towards an opposite gate so as to get within the field before they should see him. But as ill luck would have it, as soon as he got inside, a party of six or seven of his own yeomanry, Troop, were straggling across the same field and making for the spot where he was. The dragoons passed without seeing him, but when he turned out into the road again, it was impossible to retreat towards Overcom Village because of the yeoman. So he rode straight on, and heard them coming at his heels. There was no other gate, and the highways soon became as straight as a bowstring. Unable thus to turn without meeting them, and caught like an eel in a water-pipe, Festus drew nearer and nearer to the fateful shore. But he did not relinquish hope. Just ahead there were crossroads, and he might have a chance of slipping down one of them without being seen. On reaching the spot, he found that he was not alone. A horseman had come up the right-hand lane and drawn rain. It was an officer of the German Legion, and seeing Festus, he held up his hand. Festus rode up to him, and saluted. It is to force report, said the officer. Festus was a man again. He felt nothing was too much of him. The officer, after some explanation of the cause of alarm, said that he was going across to the road, which led by the moor, to stop the troops and volunteers converging from that direction. Upon which Festus offered to give information along the Castlebridge Road. The German crossed over, and was soon out of sight in the lane, while Festus turned back upon the way by which he had come. The party of Yeoman recovery was rapidly drawing near, and he soon recognized among them the excited voices of Stubb, of Duddle Hole, Noakes of Muckleford, and other comrades of his orgies at the Hall. It was a magnificent opportunity, and Festus drew his sword. When they were within speaking distance, he reigned round his chargers' heads to Bubmouth, and shouted, On, comrades, on, I'm waiting for you. You've been a long time getting up with me, seeing the glorious nature of our deeds today. Well said, German, well said, replied the foremost of the riders. Have you heard of any new? Only that he's here with his tens of thousands of the we are to ride to meet him's sword in hand as soon as we've assembled in the town ahead here. O Lord! said Noakes, with a slight falling of the lurch o'er. The man who quails now is unworthy of the name of Yeoman, said Festus, still keeping ahead of the other troopers, and holding up his sword to the sun. O Noakes, fire, fire, you begin to look pale, man. Faith, perhaps you'd look pale, said Noakes, with an envious glance upon Festus's daring manner. If ye had a wife and family, depending upon ye. I'll take three frog-eating Frenchmen single-handed, rejoined Deremon, still flourishing his sword. They have as good swords as ye, as ye will soon find, said another of the Yeoman. If they were three times armed, said Festus, I, three times, I would attempt them three to one. How do you feel now, my old friend Stubb? Turning to another of the warriors. Oh, friend Stubb, no bouncing health to our Lady Loves in Oxwell Hall this summer at last. Hey, Brown John? I'm afraid not, said Brown John, gloomily. No rattling dinners at Stacey's Hotel and the King below with his staff. No retching-off door-knockers and sediments at the bake-house in a pie that nobody calls for. Weeks of cut-and-thrust work, rather. I suppose so. Fight how ye may. We shan't get rid of the cursed Tyrant before autumn, and many thousand brave men will lie low before it's done. Remarked a young Yeoman with a calm face, who meant to do his duty without much talking. No grinning matches of maiden castle this summer, Festus resumed. Do you thread the needle at Green Hill Fair and go into shows and driving the showman crazy with cock-a-doodle-doo? I suppose not. Does it make you seem just a trifle of uncomfortable nukes? Keep up your spirits, old comrade. Come forward. We're only ammly old like seventy donkey women. We have to get into Bubmouth, join the rest of the troop, then march along the coast westward, as I imagine. At this rate we shan't be well into the thick of battle before twelve o'clock. Spur on, comrades. No dancing on the Green Lockham this year in the moonlight. You was tender upon that girl. Gah! What will become of her in the struggle? Come, come, derrimon, expostulated Lockham. This is all very well, but don't care for it. I am as ready to fight as any man, but— Perhaps when you get into battle, derrimon, and see what it's like, your courage will cool down a little, added notes on the same side, but with secret admiration of Festus' reckless bravery. I shall be bayoneted first," said Festus. Now let's rally and on. Since Festus was determined to spur on wildly, the rest of the omen did not like to seem behind hand, and they rapidly approached the town. Had they been calm enough to reflect, they might have observed that for the last half-hour no carts or carriages had met them on the way, as they had done further back. It was not till the troopers reached the turnpike that they learned what Festus had known a quarter of an hour before. At the intelligence derrimon sheathed his sword with a sigh, and the parties soon fell in with comrades who had arrived there before them, whereupon the source and details of the alarm were boisterously discussed. Well, didn't she know of the mistake till now? asked one of these of the newcomers. Why, when I was dropping over the hill by the crossroads, I looked back and saw that man talking to the messenger, and he must have told him the truth. The speaker pointed to Festus. They turned their indignant eyes full upon him. That he had sported with their deepest feelings while knowing the rumour to be baseless was soon apparent to all. Beat him back and blew with a fad of our blades, shouted two or three, turning their horses' heads to drop back upon derrimon, in which move they were followed by most of the party. But Festus, foreseeing danger from the unexpected revelation, had already judiciously placed a few intervening yards between himself and his fellow yeoman, and now, clapping spurs to his horse, rattled like thunder and lightning up the road homeward. His ready flight added hotness to their pursuit, and as he rode and looked fearfully over his shoulder, he could see them following with enraged faces and drawn swords, a position which they kept up for a distance of more than a mile. Then he had the satisfaction of seeing them drop off one by one, and soon he and his panting-charger remained alone on the highway.