 8 Anne makes a circuit of the camp. When Anne was crossing the last field, she saw approaching her an old woman with wrinkled cheeks, who surveyed the earth and its inhabitants through the medium of brass rims spectacles. Shaking her head at Anne till the glass is shone like two moons, she said, Ah, ah, I zeed ye. If I had only kept on my short ones that I use for reading the collect and gospel, I shouldn't have zeed ye. But, thanks I, I be going out of doors and I'll put on my long ones, little thinking would they show me. I, I can tell folk at any distance with these, does a beautiful pair for out of doors, though my short ones be best for close work, such as darning and catching fleas. That's true. What have you seen, Granny Seymour? said Anne. Five-five, Miss Nancy, you know, said Granny Seymour, shaking her head still. But he's a fine young fellow, and will have all his uncle's money when he's gone. Anne said nothing to this, and, looking ahead with a smile, passed Granny Seymour by. Festus, the subject of the remark, was, at this time, about three and twenty. A fine fellow as to feet and inches, and of a remarkably warm tone in skin and hair, symptoms of beard and whiskers had appeared upon him at a very early age, owing to his persistent use of the razor before there was any necessity for its operation. The brave boy had scraped unseen in the outhouse, in the cellar, in the woodshed, in the stable, in the unused parlor, in the cow stalls, in the barn, and wherever he could set up his triangular bit of looking-glass without observation, or extemperize a mirror by sticking up his head on the outside of window-pane. The result now was that, did he neglect to use the instrument he had once trifled with, a fine rust broke out upon his countenance on the first day, a golden lichen on the second, and a fiery stubble on the third to a degree which admitted of no further postponement. His disposition divided naturally into two, the boastful and the contankerous. When Festus put on the big pot, as it is classically called, he was quite blinded, if so fact, out to the diverting effect of that mood and manner upon others. But when he disposed to be envious or quarrelsome, he was rather shrewd than otherwise, and could do some pretty strokes of satire. He was both liked and abused by the girls who knew him, and, though they were pleased by his attentions, they never failed to ridicule him behind his back. In his cups he knew those vessels, though only twenty-three. He first became noisy, then excessively friendly, and then invariably nagging. During childhood he had made himself renowned for his pleasant habit of pouncing down upon boys smaller or poorer than himself and knocking their bird's nests out of their hands, or overturning their little carts of apples, or pouring water down their backs. But his conduct became singularly the reverse of aggression the moment the little boy's mothers ran out to him, brandishing brooms, frying-pan skimmers, or whatever else they could lay hands on by way of weapons. He then fled and hid behind bushes, under faggots or in pits, till they had gone away, and on one such occasion was known to creep into a badger's hole quite out of sight, maintaining that post with great firmness and resolution for two or three hours. He had brought more vulgar exclamations upon the tongues of respectable parents in his native parish than any other boy of his time. When other youngsters snowballed him he ran into a place of shelter where he needed snowballs of his own with a stone inside, and used these formidable missiles in returning their pleasantry. Sometimes he got fearfully beaten by boys of his own age when he would roar lustily, but fight on in the midst of his tears, blood, and cries. He was early in love, and had at the time of the story suffered from the ravages of that passion thirteen distinct times. He could not love lightly and gaily, his love was earnest, cross-tempered, and even savage. It was a positive agony to him to be ridiculed by the object of his affections, and such conduct drove him into a frenzy of persisted in. He was a torment to those who behave humbly towards him, cynical with those who deny the superiority, and a very nice fellow to those who had the courage to ill-use him. This stalwart gentleman and Anne Garland did not cross each other's paths again for a week. Then her mother began as before about the newspaper, and though Anne did not much like the errand, she agreed to go for it on Mrs. Garland pressing her with unusual anxiety. Why her mother was so persistent on so small a matter quite puzzled a girl, but she put on her hat and started. As she expected, Festus appeared at a style over which she sometimes went for shortness of sake, and showed by his manner that he awaited her. When she saw this she kept straight on, as if she would not enter the park at all. Surely this is your way, said Festus. I was thinking of going round by the road, she said. Why is that? She paused, as if she were not inclined to say. I go that way when the grass is wet, she returned at last. It is not wet now, he persisted. The sun has been shining on at these nine hours. The fact was that the way by the park was less open than by the road, and Festus wished to walk with her uninterrupted, but of course it is nothing to me what you do. He flung himself from the style and walked away towards the house, and, supposing him really indifferent, took the same way upon which he turned his head and waited for her with a proud smile. I cannot go with you, she declared decisively. Nonsense, you foolish girl! I must walk along with you down to the corner. No, please, Mr. Derriman, we might be seen. Now, now, that shyness, he said jacosely. No, you know I cannot let you, but I must. But I do not allow it. Allow it or not, I will. Then you are unkind and I must submit, she said, her eyes brimming with tears. Ho, ho, what a shame of me, my wig! I won't do any such thing for the world, said the repentant yeoman. Ha, ha, why, I thought your go-away meant, come on, as it does with so many of these women I meet, especially in these clothes, who was to know you were so confoundedly serious. As he did not go, Anne stood still and said nothing. I see you have a deal more caution and a deal less good nature than I ever thought you had, he continued emphatically. No, sir, it is not any planned manner of mine at all, she said earnestly, but you will see I am sure that I could not go down to the hall with you without putting myself in a wrong light. Yes, that's it, that's it. I am only a fellow in the yeomanry cavalry, a plain soldier, I may say, and we know what women think of such, that they are a bad lot, men you mustn't speak to for fear of losing your character, chaps you avoid in the roads, chaps that come into a house like oxen, dob the stairs where their boots stain the furniture where their drink, talk rubbish to the servants, abuse all its holy and righteous, and are only saved from being carried off by old Nick because they are wanted for boney. Indeed, I didn't know your thought of so bad as that, said she simply. What? Don't my uncle complain to you of me? You are a favorite of that handsome ol' gaffers, I know. Never. Well, what do we think of our nice trumpet-major, hey? Anne closed her mouth up tight, built it up, in fact, to show that no answer was coming to that question. Oh, now come, seriously! Love Day is a good fellow, and so is his father. I don't know. What a close little rogue you are, there's no getting anything out of you, I believe you would say I don't know to every mortal question, so very discreet as you are. Upon my heart there are some women who would say, I don't know, too, will ye marry me? The brightness upon Anne's cheek and in her eye during this remark showed that there was a fair quantity of life and warmth beneath the discretion he complained of. Anne spoke, and thus he drew a side that she might pass and bowed very low. Anne formally inclined herself and went on. She had been at vexation point all the time that he was present, from a haunting sense that he would not have spoken to her so freely had she been a young woman with thriving male relations to keep forward admirers in check. But she had been struck, now as at the previous meeting, with the power she possessed of working him up either to irritation or to complacency at will, and this consciousness of being able to play upon him as upon an instrument disposed her to a humorous considerousness and made her tolerate even while she rebuffed him. When Anne got to the hall the farmer as usual insisted upon her reading what he had been able to get through, and held the paper tightly in the skinny hand till she had agreed. He sent her to a hard chair that she could not possibly injure to the extent of a penny worth by sitting in it a twelve month and watched her from the outer angle of his near eye while she bent over the paper. His look might have been suggested by the sight that he had witnessed her in his window on the last occasion of her visit, for it partook of the nature of concern. The old man was afraid of his nephew, physically and morally, and he began to regard Anne as a fellow sufferer under the same despot. After this sly and curious gaze at her he withdrew his eyes again, so that when she casually lifted her own there was nothing visible but his keen, bluish profile as before. When the reading was about half way through the door behind them opened and footsteps crossed the threshold. The farmer diminished perceptibly in his chair and looked fearful, but pretended to be absorbed in the reading and quite unconscious of an intruder. Anne felt the presence of the swashing festus and stopped a reading. Please go on, Miss Anne, he said, I am not going to speak a word. He withdrew to the mantelpiece and leaned against it at his ease. Go on, do ye, maite Anne, said Uncle Benji, keeping down his trembling by a great effort to half their natural extent. Anne's voice became much lower now that there were two listeners, and her modesty shrank somewhat from exposing to festus the appreciative modulations which an intelligent interest in the subject drew from her went unembarrassed. But she still went on that he might not suppose her to be disconcerted, though the ensuing ten minutes was one of disquietude. She knew that the bothering yeoman's eyes were traveling over her from his position behind, creeping over her shoulders, up to her head, and across her arms and hands. Old Benji on his part knew the same thing, and after sundry endeavours to peep at his nephew from the corner of his eye he could bear the situation no longer. Do you want to say anything to me, nephew, he quaked? No, Uncle, thank ye, said festus hardly. I like to stay here, thinking of you and looking at your back here. The nervous old man writhed under this vivisection, and Anne read on, till to the relief of both the gallant young fellow grew tired of his amusement and went out of the room. Anne soon finished her paragraph and rose to go, determined never to come again as long as festus haunted the precincts. Her face grew warmer as she thought that he would be sure to waylay her on her journey home today. On this account when she left the house, instead of going in the customary direction, she bolted round to the further side, through the bushes, along under the garden kitchen wall, and through a door leading into a rutted cart track which had been a pleasant gravel drive when the final hall was in its prosperity. Once out of sight of the windows she ran with all her might till she had quitted the park by a root directly opposite to that towards her home. Why was she so seriously bent upon doing this she could hardly tell, but the instinct to run was irresistible. It was necessary now to clamor over the down to the left of the camp, and to make a complete circuit round the ladder, infantry, cavalry, settlers and all, descending to her house on the other side. This tremendous walk she performed at a rapid rate, never once turning her head and avoiding every beaten track to keep clear of the knots of soldiers taking a walk. When she at last got down to the levels again she paused to fetch breath and murmured, Why did I take so much trouble? He would not, after all, have hurt me. As she neared the mill an erect figure with a blue body and white thighs descended before her from the down towards the village, and went past the mill to a style beyond, over which she usually returned to her house. Here he lingered. On coming nearer and discovered this person to be trumpet major love-day, and not wishing to meet anybody just now, Anne passed quickly on, and entered the house by the garden gate. My dear Anne, what a time you've been gone, said her mother. Yes, I have been round by another road. Why did you do that? Anne looked thoughtful and reticent, for her reason was almost too silly a one to confess. Well, I wanted to avoid a person who was very busy trying to meet me, that's all, she said. Her mother glanced out of the window. And there he is, I suppose, she said, as John Loveday, tired of looking for Anne of the style, passed the house on his way to his father's door. He could not help casting his eyes towards their window, and seeing them he smiled. Anne's reluctance to mention Festus was such that she did not correct her mother's error. And the dam went on, well, you're quite right, my dear. Be friendly with him, but no more at present. I have heard of your other affair, and think it is a very wise choice. I am sure you have my best wishes in it, and I only hope it will come to a point. What's that, said the astonished Anne? You and Mr. Festus Dariman, dear, you need not mind me, I have known it for several days. Old Granny Seamer called here Saturday and told me she saw I'm coming home with you across Park Close last week when you went for the newspaper, so I thought I'd send you again today and give you another chance. Then you didn't want the paper, and it was only for that? He's a fine young fellow, and he looks a thorough women's protector. He may look it, said Anne. He has given up the freehold farm his father held at Pitzcock, and lives in independence on what the land brings him. And when Farmer Dariman dies he'll have all the old mans for certain. He'll be worth ten thousand pounds of a penny in money, besides sixteen horses, cart and hack, a fifty cow dairy, and at least five hundred sheep. Anne turned away, and instead of informing her mother that she had been running like a doe to escape the interesting air presumptive alluded to, merely said, Mother, I don't like this at all. CHAPTER IX After this Anne would on no account walk in the direction of the hall for fear of another encounter with young Dariman. In the course of a few days it was told in the village that the old farmer had actually gone for a week's holiday and change of air to the royal watering-place near at hand at the instance of his nephew Festus. This was a wonderful thing to hear of Uncle Benji, who had not slept outside the walls of Oxwell Hall for many a long year before, and Anne well imagined what extraordinary pressure must have been put upon him to induce him to take such a step. She pictured his unhappiness at the bustling watering-place and hoped no harm would come to him. She spent much of her time indoors or in the gardens, hearing little of the camp movements beyond the periodical tata-tata of the trumpeters, sounding their various ingenious calls for watch-setting, stables, feed, boot and saddle, parade, and so on, which made her think how clever her friend the trumpet-major must be to teach his pupils to play those pretty little tunes so well. On the third morning after Uncle Benji's departure, she was disturbed as usual while dressing by the tramp of the troops down the slope to the mill pond, and during the now familiar stamping and splashing which followed there sounded upon the glass of the window a slight smack, which might have been caused by a whip or switch. She listened more particularly, and it was repeated. As John Loveday was the only dragoon likely to be aware that she slept in that particular apartment, she imagined the signal to come from him, though wondering that he should venture upon such a freak of familiarity. Wrapping herself up in a red cloak, she went to the window, gently drew up the corner of the curtain, and peeped out as she had done many times before. Nobody who was not quite close beneath her window could see her face, but as it happened somebody was close. The soldiers who sploundering Anne had heard were not Loveday's dragoons, but a troop of the York Hussars quite oblivious of her existence. They had passed on out of the water, and instead of them there sat Festus Derriman alone on his horse, and in plain clothes, the water reaching up to the animal's belly, and Festus' heels elevated over the saddle to keep them out of the stream, which threatened to wash rider and horse into the deep millhead just below. It was plainly he who had struck her lattice, for in a moment he looked up and their eyes met. Festus laughed loudly and slapped her window again, and just at that moment the dragoons began prancing down the slope in review order. She could not wait a minute or two to see them pass, while doing so she was suddenly led to draw back, drop the corner of the curtain, and blush privately in her room. She had not only been seen by Festus Derriman, but by John Loveday, who riding along with his trumpet slung up behind him had looked over his shoulder at the phenomenon of Derriman beneath Anne's bedroom window, and seemed quite astounded at the sight. She was quite vexed at the conjunction of incidents and went no more to the window till the dragoons had ridden far away, and she had heard Festus' horse laboriously wade on to dry land. When she looked out there was nobody left but Miller Loveday, who usually stood in the garden at this time of the morning to say a word or two to the soldiers, of whom he already knew so many, and was in a fair way of knowing many more, from the liberality with which he handed round mugs of cheering liquor whenever parties of them walked that way. In the afternoon of this day Anne walked to a christening party and a neighbor is in the adjoining parish of Springham, intending to walk home again before it got dark. But there was a slight fall of rain towards evening, and she was pressed by the people of the house to stay over the night. With some hesitation she accepted their hospitality, but at ten o'clock when they were thinking of going to bed, they were startled by a smart wrap at the door, and on it being unbolted a man's form was seen in the shadows outside. Is Miss Garland here, the visitor inquired, at which Anne suspended her breath? Yes, said Anne's entertainer, warily. Her mother is very anxious to know what's become of her. She promised to come home. To her great relief Anne recognized the voice as John Loveday's, and not in Festus Derriman's. Yes, I did, Mr. Loveday, said she, coming forward. But it rained, and I thought my mother would guess where I was. Loveday said, with diffidence, that it had not rained anything to speak of at the camp or at the mill, so that her mother was rather alarmed. And she asked you to come for me, Anne inquired. This was a question which the trumpet major had been dreading during the whole of his walk thither. Well, she didn't exactly ask me, he said rather lamely, but still in a manner to show that Mrs. Garland had indirectly signified such to be her wish. In reality, Mrs. Garland had not addressed him at all on the subject. She had merely spoken to his father on finding that her daughter did not return, and received an assurance from the miller that the precious girl was doubtless quite safe. John heard of this inquiry, and having a pass that evening resolved to relieve Mrs. Garland's mind on his own responsibility. Ever since his morning view of Festus under her window, he had been on thorns of anxiety, and his thrilling hope now was that she would walk back with him. He shifted his foot nervously as he made the bold request, and felt that once that she would go, there was nobody in the world whose care she would more readily be under than the trumpet-majors in a case like the present. He was their nearest neighbor's son, and she had liked his single-minded ingenuousness from the first moment of his return home. When they had started on their walk and said, in a practical way, to show that there was no sentiment whatever in her acceptance of his company, mother was much alarmed about me, perhaps. Yes, she was uneasy, he said, and then was compelled by conscience to make a clean breast of it. I know she wasn't easy, because my father said so, but I did not see her myself. The truth is, she doesn't know I am calm. Anne now saw how the matter stood, but she was not offended with him, what woman could have been. They walked on in silence, the respectful trumpet-major keeping a yard off on her right as precisely as if that measure had been fixed between them. She had a great feeling of civility towards him this evening, and spoke again. I often hear your trumpeters blowing the calls. They do it beautifully, I think. Pretty fair, they might do better, said he, as one too well-mannered to make much of an accomplishment in which he had a hand. And you taught them how to do it? Yes, I taught them. It must require wonderful practice to get them into the way of beginning and finishing so exactly at one time. It is like one throat doing it all. How came you to be a trumpeter, Mr. Loveday? Well, I took to it naturally when I was a little boy, said he, betrayed into quite a gushing state by her delightful interest. I used to make trumpets of papers, elder-sticks, eltrot roots, and even stingy nettle stalks, you know, and my father set me to keep the birds off that little barley ground of his, and gave me an old horn to frighten him with. I learned to blow that horn so that you could hear me for miles and miles. Then he bought me a clarionet, and when I could play that I borrowed a serpent, and I learned to play a tolerable base. So when I elisted, I was picked out for training as trumpeter at once. Of course you were. Because however I wish I had never joined the army. My father gave me a very fair education, and your father showed me how to draw horses, or on a slate, I mean. Yes, I ought to have done more than I have. What? Did you know my father? She asked with new interest. Oh, yes, for years. You were a little might of a thing then, and you used to cry when we big boys looked at you and made pigs eyes at you, which we did sometimes. He and many a time have I stood by your poor father while he worked. You don't remember much about him, but I do. And remained thoughtful, and the moon broke from behind the clouds, lighting up the wet foliage with the twinkling brightness, and lending to each of the trumpet-major's buttons and spurs a little ray of its own. They had come to Oxford Village, and he said, Do you like going across or round by the lane? We may as well go by the nearest road, said Anne. They entered a gate following a half obliterated drive till they came almost opposite the rear of the hall when they entered a footpath leading towards the Downs. While hereabout they heard a shout or chorus of exclamation apparently from within the walls of the dark buildings near them. What was that, said Anne? I don't know, said her companion. I'll go and see. He went round some intervening buildings into a wilderness which had once been a flower garden, crossed an orchard of aged trees, and advanced to the wall of the house. Boisterous noises were resounding from within, and he was tempted to go round the corner where the low windows were and look through a chink into the room once the sounds proceeded. It was the room in which the owner dined, traditionally called the Great Parlor, and within it sat about a dozen young men of the Yeoman Recavary, one of them being festers. They were drinking, laughing, singing, bumping their fists on the tables, and enjoying themselves in the very perfection of confusion. The candles blown by the breeze from the partly opened window had guttered into coffin handles and shrouds, and choked by their long black wicks for want of snuffing gave out a smoky yellow light. One of the young men might possibly have been in a maudlin state, for he had his arm round the neck of his next neighbor. Another was making an incoherent speech to which nobody was listening. Some of their faces were red, some were sallow, some were sleepy, some wide awake. The only one among them who appeared in his usual frame of mind was Festus, whose huge burly form rose at the head of the table, enjoying with a serene and triumphant aspect the difference between his own condition and that of his neighbors. While the trumpet major looked, a young woman, niece of Anthony Cripplestra, and one of Uncle Benji's servants, was called in by one of the crew, and much against her will, a fiddle was placed in her hands, from which they made her produce discordant screeches. The absence of Uncle Benji had in fact been contrived by young Derriman that he might make use of the hall on his own account. Cripplestra had been left in charge, and Festus had found no difficulty in forcing from that dependent the keys of whatever he required. John Loveday turned his eyes from the scene to the neighboring moonlit path where Anne still stood waiting. Then he looked into the room, then at Anne again. It was an opportunity of advancing his own cause with her by exposing Festus, for whom he began to entertain hostile feelings of no mean force. No, I can't do it, he said, to his underhand. Let things take their chance. He moved away and then perceived that Anne, tired of waiting, had crossed the orchard and almost came up with him. What is the noise about, she said? This company in the house said Loveday. Company? Farmer Derriman is not at home, said Anne, and went on to the window once the rays of light leaked out, the trumpet major standing where he was. He saw her face into the beam of candle-light, stay there for a moment, and quickly withdraw. She came back to him at once. Let us go on, she said. Loveday imagined from her tone that she must have an interest in Derriman, and said sadly, You blame me for going across to the window and leading you to follow me. Not a bit, said Anne, seeing his mistake as to the state of her heart and being rather angry with him for it. I think it was most natural, considering the noise. Silence again. Derriman is sober as a judge, said Loveday as they turned to go. It was only the others who were noisy. Whether he is sober or not is nothing whatever to me, said Anne. Of course not. I know it, said the trumpet major in accents expressing unhappiness at her somewhat curt tone and some doubt of her assurance. Before they had emerged from the shadow of the hall, some persons were seen moving along the road to the gate. Loveday was forgoing on just the same. But Anne, from a shy feeling that it was as well not to be seen walking along with a man who was not her lover, said, Mr. Loveday, let us wait here a minute till they have gone in. On nearer view the group was seen to comprise a man on a piebald horse and another man walking beside him. When they were opposite the house they halted and the rider dismounted. Thereupon a dispute between him and the other man ensued, apparently on a question of money. "'Tis old Mr. Derryman come home,' said Anne. He has hired that horse from a bathing machine to bring him, only fancy. Before they had gone many steps further the farmer and his companion had entered their dispute and the latter mounted the horse and countered away, Uncle Benjy, coming on to the house at an nimble pace. As soon as he observed Loveday and Anne he fell into a febler gate. When they came up he recognized Anne. "'And you have torn yourself away from King George's esplanade so soon, Farmer Derryman?' said she. "'Yes, Faith, I couldn't bide at such a ruination place,' said the farmer. "'You're hand in your pocket every minute of the day. There's a shelling for this, half a crown for that. If you only eat one egg or even a poor windfall of an apple, you've got to pay. And a bunch of radishes is a-hapen-y, and a quarter cider, a good tuppence three farthings at lowest reckoning. Nothing without paying. I couldn't even get a ride homeward upon that screw, without the man wanting a shelling for it, when my weight didn't take a penny out of the beast. I've saved a pen-earth or so or a few leather to be sure. But the saddle was so rough with patches that it took tuppence out of the seat of my best britches. King George have ruined the town for other folks. More than that, my nephew promised to come there tomorrow to see me, and if I had stayed, I must have treated him.' "'Hey, what's that?' It was a shout from within the walls of the building, and Loveday said, "'Your nephew is here and has company.' "'My nephew here?' asked the old man. "'Good folks, will you come up to the door with me? I mean, he-he-he, just for a company. Dear me, I thought my house was as quiet as that church.' They went back to the window when the farmer looked in, his mouth falling apart to a greater width at the corners than in the middle, and his fingers assuming a state of radiation. "'Tis my best silver tankards they've got that I've never used. Oh! Tis my strong beer! Tis eight candles gutter in a way when I've used nothing but 20s myself for the last half year.' "'You didn't know he was here then?' said Loveday.' "'Oh, no!' said the farmer, shaking his head halfway. "'Nothing's known to poor I. "'There's my best rumours jingling as careless as if it was ten cups, and my table scratched and my chairs wrenched out of joint. See how they tilt him on the two back legs, and that's ruined to a chair. Ah, when I be gone, he won't find another old man to make such work with, and provide goods for his breaking-and-house-room and drink for his tear-brass set.' Comrades and fellow soldiers set Festus to the hot farmers and yeoman he entertained within. As we have vowed to brave danger and death together, so will share the couch of peace. You shall sleep here tonight, for it is getting late. My scram-blue-vinnyed gallicrow of an uncle takes care that there shan't be much comfort in the house, but you can curl up on the furniture if beds run short. As for my sleep it won't be much. I'm melancholy, a woman has, I may say, got my heart in her pocket, and I have hers in mind. She's not much to other folk, I mean, but she is to me. The little thing came in my way and conquered me. I fancy that simple girl. I ought to have looked higher. I know it. What of that? It is a fate that may happen to the greatest men. Rush her name, said one of the warriors whose head occasionally drooped upon his epaulets, and whose eyes fell together in the casual manner characteristic of the tired soldier. It was really farmer stub of Dottelhol. Her name? Well, to spelt, a, n. But by Gad I won't give ye her name here in company. She don't live in a hundred miles off, however, and she wears the prettiest cap-rivens you ever saw. Well, well, this weakness, she has little, and I have much, but I do adore that girl in spite of myself. Let's go on, said Anne. Prithee, stand by an old man that he's got into his house, implored Uncle Benjie. I only ask ye to bide with an call. Stand back unto the trees, and I'll do my poor best to give no trouble. I'll stand by you for half an hour, sir, said Love Day. After that I must bolt to camp. Very well, bide back there unto the trees, said Uncle Benjie. I don't want to spite him. You'll wait a few minutes just to see if he gets in, said the trumpet major to Anne, as they retired from the old man. I want to get home, said Anne anxiously. When they had quite receded behind the tree trunks, and he stood alone, Uncle Benjie, to their surprise, set up a loud shout altogether beyond the imagined power of his lungs. Man a lost, man a lost, he cried, repeating the exclamation several times, and then ran and hid himself behind a corner of the building. Soon the door opened, and Festus and his guests came tumbling out upon the green. "'Tis our duty to help folks in distress,' said Festus. "'Man a lost. Where are you?' "'Twas across there,' said one of the friends. "'Nah, it was here,' said another. Meanwhile Uncle Benjie, coming from his hiding place, had scampered with the quickness of a boy up to the door they had quitted and slipped in. In a moment the door flew together, and Anne heard him bolting and barring it inside. The revelers, however, did not notice this, and came on towards the spot where the trumpet major and Anne were standing. "'His sucker at hands, friends,' said Festus. "'We are all king's men. Do not fear us.' "'Thank you,' said Loveday, so are we.' He explained in two words that they were not the distressed traveller who had cried out, and turned to go. "'Tis she, my life, tis she,' said Festus, now first recognizing Anne. "'Fair Anne, I will not part from you till I see you safe at your own dear door.' "'She's in my hand,' said Loveday, civilly, though not without firmness. "'So it is not required. Thank you.' "'Man, had I but my sword?' "'Come,' said Loveday, I don't want to quarrel. Let's put it to her. Whichever of us she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss Anne? Which?' Anne would much rather have gone home alone, but seeing the remainder of the yeomanry party staggering up, she thought it best to secure a protector of some kind. How to choose one without offending the other and provoking a quarrel was the difficulty. "'You must both walk home with me,' she adroitly said, one on one side and one on the other, and if you are not quite civil to one another all the time, I'll never speak to either of you again.' They agreed to the terms and the other yeoman arriving at this time, said they would go also as rear guard. "'Very well,' said Anne, now go and get your hats and don't be long.' "'Ah, yes, our hats,' said the yeomanry, whose heads were so hot that they had forgotten their nakedness till then. "'You'll wait till we've got them. We won't be a moment,' said Festus eagerly. Anne and Loveday said yes, and Festus ran back to the house followed by all his band. "'Now let's run and leave him,' said Anne, when they were out of hearing. "'But we've promised to wait,' said the trumpet major in surprise. "'Promise to wait,' said Anne indignantly, as if one ought to keep such a promise to drunken men as that, you can do as you like. I shall go.' "'It is hardly fair to leave the chaps,' said Loveday reluctantly, and looking back at them. But she heard no more, and flitting off under the trees was soon lost to his sight. Festus and the rest had by this time reached Uncle Benji's door, which they were discomforted and astonished to find closed. They began to knock and then to kick at the venerable timber, till the old man's head, crowned with a tassled nightcap, appeared at an upper window followed by his shoulders, with apparently nothing on but his shirt, though it wasn't truth, a sheet thrown over his coat. "'Fie upon you for making such a hullabaloo at a weak old man's door,' he said, yawning. "'What's in ye to rouse on his folks at this time of night?' "'Hang me, why, it's Uncle Benji.' "'Hur, hur, hur,' said Festus. "'Nunk! Why, how's the devil this?' "'Tis I, Festus, wanted to come in.' "'Oh, no, no, my clever man, whoever ye be,' said Uncle Benji, in a tone of incredulous integrity. "'My nephew, dear boy, is miles away at quarters and sound asleep by this time, as becomes a good soldier. That story won't do to-night, my man, not at all.' "'Upon my soul, tis I,' said Festus. "'Not to-night, my man, not to-night. "'Anthony, bring my blunder-bus,' said the farmer, turning and addressing nobody inside the room. "'Let's break in the window-shutters,' said one of the others. "'My wig, and we will,' said Festus. "'What a trick of the old man!' "'Get some big stone,' said the yeoman, searching under the wall. "'No, forbear, forbear,' said Festus, beginning to be frightened at the spirit he had raised. "'I forget. We should drive him into fits, for he's subject to him, and then, perhaps, it would be manslaughter. Some rads we must march. No, we'll lie in the barn. I'll see into this. Take my word for it. Our honor is at stake. Now, let's back to see my beauty home.' "'We can't, as we haven't got our hats,' said one of the fellow troopers, in domestic life Jacob Norx, of Nethermointen Farm. "'No more we can,' said Festus, in a melancholy tone. But I must go to her, and tell her the reason. She pulls me in spite of all. "'She's gone. I saw her flee across the knap, while we were knocking at the door,' said another of the omenry. "'Gone?' said Festus, grinding his teeth and putting himself into a rigid shape. Then tis my enemy. He has tempted her away with him. But I am a rich man, and he's poor, and rides the king's horse, while I ride my own. Could I but find that fellow, that regular, that common man? I would—' "'Yes,' said the trumpet-major, coming up behind him. "'I,' said Festus, starting round, I would seize him by the hand and say, guard her. If you are, my friend, guard her from all harm.' "'A good speech, and I will, too,' said Loveday, heartily. "'And now, for shelter,' said Festus, to his companions. Then they unceremoniously left Loveday without wishing him good night, and proceeded towards the barn. He crossed the field, and ascended the down to the camp, grieved that he had given Anne cause of complaint, and fancying that she held him of slight account beside his wealthy arrival. And she was so flurried by the military incidents, attending her return home, that she was almost afraid to venture alone outside her mother's premises. Moreover, the numerous soldiers, regular and otherwise, that haunted overcommented neighborhood, were getting better acquainted with the villagers, and the result was that they were always standing at garden gates, walking in the orchards, or sitting gossiping just within cottage doors with the bowls of their tobacco pipes thrust outside, for politeness's sake, that they might not defile the air of the household. Being gentlemen of a gallant and most affectionate nature, they naturally turned their heads and smiled if a pretty girl passed by, which was rather disconcerting to the latter if she were unused to society. Every bell in the village had a lover, and when the bells were all allotted, those who scarcely deserved that title had their turn, many of the soldiers being not at all particular about half an inch of nose more or less, a trifling deficiency of teeth, or a larger crop of freckles than as customary in the Saxon race. Thus with one and another courtship began to be practiced in Overcombe, on rather a large scale, and the dispossessed young men who had been born in the place were left to take their walks alone, where, instead of studying the works of nature, they meditated gross outrages on the brave men who had been so good as to visit their village. And watch these romantic proceedings from her window with much interest, and when she saw how triumphantly other handsome girls of the neighborhood walked by on the gorgeous arms of Lieutenant Nakiel Mann, Cornette Flitzenhart, and Captain Clasp and Kissen of the thrilling York Hussars, who swore the most picturesque foreign oaths and had a wonderful sort of estate or property called the fodderland in their country across the sea, she was filled with a sense of her own loneliness. It made her think of things which she tried to forget, and to look into a little drawer at something soft and brown that lay in a curl there, wrapped in paper. At last she could bear it no longer and went downstairs. Where are you going, said Mrs. Garland, to see the folks because I am so gloomy. Certainly not at present, Anne. Why not, mother, said Anne, blushing with an indefinite sense of being very wicked? Because you must not. I have been going to tell you several times not to go into the street at this time of day. Why not walk in the morning? There's young Mr. Derriman would be glad to. Don't mention him, mother, don't. Well, then, dear, walk in the garden. So poor Anne, who really had not the slightest wish to throw her heart away upon a soldier, but merely wanted to displace old thoughts by new, turned into the inner garden from day to day, and passed a good many hours there, the pleasant birds singing to her, and the delightful butterflies alighting on her hat, and the horrid Anne's running up her stockings. This garden was undivided from love days, the two having originally been the single garden of the whole house. It was a quaint old place, and closed by a thorn hedge, so shapely and dense from incessant clipping that the mill boy could walk along the top without sinking in, a feat which he often performed as a means of filling out his day's work. The soil within was of that intense fat blackness which is only seen after a century of constant cultivation. The paths were grasped over, so that people came and went upon them without being heard. The grass harbored slugs, and on this account the miller was going to replace it by gravel as soon as he had time. But as he had said this for thirty years without doing it, the grass and the slugs seemed likely to remain. The miller's man attended to Mrs. Garland's piece of the garden as well as to the larger portion, digging, planting, and weaning indifferently in both. The miller observing with reason that it was not worthwhile for a helpless widow lady to hire a man for her own little plot when his man, working alongside, could tend it without much addition to his labor. The two households were on this account even more closely united in the garden than within the mill. Out there there were almost one family, and they talked from plot to plot with the zest and animation which Mrs. Garland could never have anticipated when she first removed thither after her husband's death. The lower half of the garden, farthest on the road, was the most snug and sheltered part of this snug and sheltered enclosure, and it was well watered as the land of lot. Three small brooks, about a yard wide, ran with the tinkling sound from side to side between the plots, crossing the path under wood slabs laid as bridges, and passing out of the garden through little tunnels in the hedge. The brooks were so far overhung at their brinks by grass and garden produce that had it not been for their perpetual babbling, few would have noticed that they were there. This was where Anne liked best to linger when her excursions became restricted to her own premises, and in a spot of the garden not far removed the trumpet major loved to linger also. Being by virtue of his office no stable duty to perform, he came down from the camp to the mill almost every day, and Anne, finding that he adroitly walked and sat in his father's portion of the garden whenever she did so in the other half, could not help smiling and speaking to him. So his epaulettes and blue jacket and Anne's yellow gypsy hat were often seen in different parts of the garden at the same time, but he never intruded into her part of the enclosure nor did she into love-days. She always spoke to him when she saw him there, and he replied in deep firm accents across the gooseberry bushes, or through the tall rows of flowering peas, as the case might be. He thus gave her accounts at fifteen paces of his experiences in camp in quarters and flanders and elsewhere, of the difference between line and column, of forced marches, billeting and such like, together with his hopes of promotion. Anne listened at first indifferently, but knowing no one else so good-natured and experienced, she grew interested in him as in a brother. By degrees his gold lace, buckles, and spurs lost all their strangeness and were as familiar to her as her own clothes. At last Mrs. Garland noticed this growing friendship and began to despair of her motherly scheme of uniting Anne to the moneyed festus. Why she could not take prompt steps to check interference with her plans arose partly from her nature, which was the reverse of managing, and partly from a new emotional circumstance with which she found it difficult to reckon. The near neighborhood that had produced the friendship of Anne for John Loveday was slowly affecting a warmer liking between her mother and his father. Thus the month of July passed. The troop horses came with the regularity of clockwork twice a day down to drink under her window, and as the weather grew hotter, kicked up their heels and shook their heads furiously under the maddening sting of the Dunfly. The green leaves in the garden became of a darker dye, the gooseberry ripened, and the three brooks were reduced to half their winter volume. At length the earnest trumpet-major obtained Mrs. Garland's consent to take her and her daughter to the camp, which they had not yet viewed from any closer point than their own windows. So one afternoon they went, the miller being one of the party. The villagers were by this time driving a roaring trade with the soldiers, who purchased of them every description of garden produce, milk, butter, and eggs at liberal prices. The figures of these rural subtlers could be seen creeping up the slopes, laden like bees, to a spot in the rear of the camp where there was a kind of marketplace on the greensward. Mrs. Garland, Anne, and the miller were conducted from one place to another and on to the quarter where the soldiers' wives lived who had been able to get lodgings in the cottages near. The most sheltered place had been chosen for them, and snug huts had been built for their use by their husbands of clods, hurdles, a little thatch, or whatever they could lay hands on. The trumpet-major conducted his friends thence to the large barn which had been appropriated as a hospital, and to the cottage with its windows bricked up that was used as the magazine. Then they inspected the lines of shining dark horses, each representing the then high figure of two-and-twenty guineas purchased money. Standing patiently at the ropes, which stretched from one picket post to another, a bank being thrown up in front of them as a protection at night. They passed on to the tents of the German legion, a well-grown and rather dandy set of men, with a poetical look about their faces which rendered them interesting to feminine eyes. Hanoverians, Saxons, Prussians, Swedes, Hungarians, and other foreigners were numbered in their ranks. They were cleaning arms which they lent carefully against the rail when the work was complete. On their return they passed the mess-house, a temporary wooden building with a brick chimney. As Anne and her companions went by, a group of three or four of the hussars were standing at the door, talking to a dashing young man who was expatiating on the qualities of a horse that one was inclined to buy. Anne recognized Festus Derriman in the cellar and Cripple Straw who was trotting the animal up and down. As soon as she caught the omen's eye, he came forward, making some friendly remark to the miller, and then turning to Miss Garland, who kept her eyes steadily fixed on the distant landscape till he got so near that it was impossible to do so longer. Festus looked from Anne to the trumpet-major and from the trumpet-major back to Anne with a dark expression of face, as if he suspected that there might be a tender understanding between them. Are you offended with me? he said to her in a low voice of repressed resentment. No, said Anne. When are you coming to the hall again? Never, perhaps. Nonsense, Anne, said Mrs. Garland, who had come near and smiled pleasantly on Festus, he can go at any time as usual. Let her come with me now, Mrs. Garland. I should be pleased to walk along with her. My man can lead home the horse. Thank you, but I shall not come, said Anne coldly. The widow looked unhappily in her daughter's face, distressed between her desire that Anne should encourage Festus and her wish to consult Anne's own feelings. Leave her alone, leave her alone, said Festus, his gaze blackening. Now I think of it. I am glad she can't come with me, for I am engaged. And he stalked away. Anne moved on with her mother, young Love Day silently following, and they began to descend the hill. Well, where is Mr. Love Day? asked Mrs. Garland. Father's behind, said John. Mrs. Garland looked behind to solicitously, and the miller who had been waiting for the event, back into her. I'll overtake you in a minute, she said to the younger pair, and went back, her color, for some unaccountable reason, rising as she did so. The miller and she then came on slowly together, conversing in very low tones, and when they got to the bottom, they stood still. Love Day and Anne waited for them, saying but little to each other, for the encounter with Festus had dampened the spirits of both. At last the widow's private talk with miller Love Day came to an end, and she hastened onward, the miller going in another direction to meet a man on business. When she reached the trumpet major and Anne, she was looking very bright and rather flurry, and seemed sorry when Love Day said that he must leave them and return to the camp. They parted in their usual friendly manner, and Anne and her mother were left to walk the few remaining yards alone. There I've settled it, said Mrs. Garland. Anne, what are you thinking about? I have settled in my mind that it is all right. What's all right, said Anne? That you do not care for Deremen and mean to encourage John Love Day. What's all the world so long as folks are happy? The child don't take any notice of what I have said about Festus and don't meet him any more. What a weather cock you are, mother! Why should you say that just now? It's easy to call me a weather cock, said the matron, putting on the look of a good woman, but I have reasoned it out, and at last, thank God, I have got over my ambition. The Love Days are our true and only friends, and Mr. Festus Deremen, with all his money, is nothing to us at all. But, said Anne, what has made you change all of a sudden from what you have said before? My feelings and my reason which I am thankful for. Anne knew that her mother's sentiments were naturally so versatile that they could not be depended on for two days together, but it did not occur to her for the moment that a change had been helped on in the present case by a romantic talk between Mrs. Garland and the Miller. But Mrs. Garland could not keep the secret long. She chatted gaily as she walked, and before they had entered the house, she said, What do you think Mr. Love Day has been saying to me, dear Anne? Anne did not know at all. Why? He has asked me to marry him. CHAPTER XI our people are affected by the presence of royalty. To explain the Miller's sudden proposal, it is any necessary to go back to that moment when Anne, Festus, and Mrs. Garland were talking together on the down. John Love Day had fallen behind, so as not to interfere with a meeting in which he was decidedly superfluous, and his father, who guessed the trumpet-major's secret, watched his face as he stood. John's face was sad, and his eyes followed Mrs. Garland's encouraging manner to Festus in a way which plainly said that every parting of her lips was tribulation to him. The Miller loved his son as much as any Miller or private gentleman could do, and he was pained to see John's gloom at such a trivial circumstance. So what did he resolve but to help John there and then, by precipitating a matter which, had he himself been the only person concerned, he would have delayed for another six months? He had long liked the society of his impulsive, tractable neighbor, Mrs. Garland, had mentally taken her up and pondered her in connection with the question whether it would not be for the happiness of both if she were to share his home, even though she was a little his superior in antecedents and knowledge. In fact, he loved her, not tragically, but to a very creditable extent for his years, that is, next to his sons, Bob and John, that he knew very well of that plowed ground appearance near the corners of her once handsome eyes, and that the little depression in her right cheek was not the lingering dimple it was poetically assumed to be, but a result of the abstraction of some worn-out Nether millstones within the cheek by Roodle, the Budmouth man, who lived by such practices on the heads of the elderly. But what of that, when he had lost two to each one of hers and exceeded her in age by some eight years? To do John a service, then, he quickened his designs and put the question to her while they were standing under the eyes of the younger pair. Mrs. Garland, though she had been interested in the miller for a long time, and had for a moment now and then thought on this question as far as, suppose he should, if he were to, and so on, had never thought much further, and she was really taken by surprise when the question came. She answers with utter affectation that she would think over the proposal, and thus they part it. Her mother's infirmity of purpose set Anne thinking, and she was suddenly filled with a conviction that in such a case she ought to have some purpose herself. Mrs. Garland's complacency at the miller's offer had in truth amazed her. While her mother had held up her head and recommended festus, it had seemed a very pretty thing to rebel. But the pressure being removed and awful sense of her own responsibility took possession of her mind. As there was no longer anybody to be wise or ambitious for her, surely she should be wise and ambitious for herself, discountenance her mother's attachment, and encourage festus in his addresses for her own and her mother's good. There had been a time when a love-day thrilled her own heart, but that was long ago, before she had thought of position or differences. To wake into cold daylight like this, when and because her mother had gone into the land of romance, was dreadful and new to her, and like an increase of years without living them. But it was easy to think that she ought to marry the yeoman than to take steps for doing it, and she went on living just as before, only with a little more thoughtfulness in her eyes. Two days after the visit to the camp when she was again in the garden, soldier Love Day said to her at a distance of five rows of beans and a parsley-bed, "'You've heard the news, Miss Garland?' "'No,' said Anne, without looking up from her book she was reading. "'The king is coming to-morrow.' "'The king?' she looked up then. "'Yes, that lost a lodge, and he will pass this way. He can't arrive till long past the middle of the night if what they say is true, that he is timed to change horses and wood-yates in between Mid- and South Wessex at twelve o'clock,' continued Love Day, encouraged by her interest to cut off the parsley-bed from the distance between them. Middle Love Day came round the corner of the house. "'Have you heard about the king coming, Miss Madey-Anne?' he said, and said that she had just heard of it, and the trumpet-major, who hardly welcomed his father at such a moment, explained what he knew of the matter. "'And you will go with your regiment to Meadon, I suppose,' said Old Love Day. Young Love Day said that the men of the German Legion were to perform that duty, and turning half from his father and half towards Anne, he added, in a tentative tone, that he thought he might get leave for the night, if anybody would like to be taken up to the top of the ridge-way over which the royal party must pass. Anne, knowing by this time of the budding hope in the gallant Dragoon's mind, and not wishing to encourage it, said, "'I don't want to go.' The men looked disappointed as well as John. "'Your mother might like to?' "'Yes, I'm going indoors, and I'll ask her if you wish me to,' said she. She went indoors, and rather coldly told her mother of the proposal. Mrs. Garland, though she had determined not to answer the millen's question on matrimony just yet, was quite ready for this jaunt, and in spite of Anne she sailed off at once to the garden to hear more about it. When she re-entered she said, "'Anne, I have not seen the king or the king's horses for these many years, and I am going.' "'Ah, it is well to be you, mother,' said Anne, in an elderly tone. "'Then you won't come with us,' said Mrs. Garland, rather rebuffed. "'I have very different things to think of,' said her daughter with virtuous emphasis, then going to see sights at that time of night. Mrs. Garland was sorry, but resolved to adhere to the arrangement. The night came on, and having gone abroad that the king would pass by the road, many of the villagers went out to see the procession. In the two love-days of Mrs. Garland were gone, Anne bolted the door for security, and sat down to think again on her grave responsibilities and the choice of her husband, now that her natural guardian could no longer be trusted. A knock came to the door. Anne's instinct was at once to be silent that the comer might think the family had retired. The knocking person, however, was not to be easily persuaded. He had in fact seen rays of light over the top of the door, and, unable to get an answer, went on to the door of the mill which was still going. The miller, sometimes grinding all night, went busy. The grinder accompanied the stranger to Mrs. Garland's door. "'The door is certainly at home, sir,' said the grinder. "'I'll go round to other side and see if she's there, Master Dermond.' "'I want to take her out to see the king,' said Festus.' Anne had started at the sound of the voice. No opportunity could have been better for carrying out her new convictions on the dispose of her hand. But in her mortal dislike of Festus Anne forgot her principles, and her idea of keeping herself above the love-days. Tossing on her hat and blowing out the candle, she slipped out of the back door and hastily followed in the direction that her mother and the rest had taken. She overtook them as they were beginning to climb the hill. "'What? You've altered your mind after all,' said the widow. "'How came you do that, my dear?' "'I thought I might as well come,' said Anne. "'To be sure you did,' said the miller heartily. "'A good deal better than binding at home there.' John said nothing, that you could almost see through the gloom how glad he was that she had altered her mind. When they reached the ridge over which the highway stretched, they found many of their neighbours who got there before them idling on the grass-border between the roadway and the hedge, enjoying a sort of midnight picnic, which it was easy to do, the air being still and dry. Some carriages were also standing near. There most people of the district who possessed four wheels, or even two, had driven into the town to await the king there. From this height could be seen in the distance to the position of the watering-place, an additional number of lanterns, lamps, and candles have been lighted to-night by the loyal burgers to grace the royal entry if it should occur before dawn. Mrs. Garland touched Anne's elbow several times as they walked, and the young woman at last understood that this was meant as a hint to her to take the trumpet-major's arm, which its owner was rather suggesting than offering to her. Anne wondered what infatuation was possessing her mother, declined to take the arm, and contrived to get in front with the miller, who mostly kept in the van to guide the other's footsteps. The trumpet-major was left with Mrs. Garland, and Anne's encouraging pursuit of them induced him to say a few words to the former. By your leave, ma'am, I'll speak to you on something that concerns my mind very much indeed. Certainly. It is my wish to be allowed to pay my addresses to your daughter. I thought you meant that, said Mrs. Garland simply, and you're not object? I shall leave it to her. I don't think she will agree, even if I do. The soldier sighed and seemed helpless. Well, I can but ask her, he said. The spot on which they had finally chosen to wait for the king was by a field-gate, whence the white road could be seen for a long distance northwards by day, and some little distance now. They lingered and lingered, but no king came to break the silence of that beautiful summer night. As half-hour after half-hour glided by, and nobody came, Anne began to get weary. She knew why her mother did not propose to go back, and regretted the reason. She would have proposed it herself, but the Mrs. Garland seemed so cheerful and as wide awake as at noonday, so that it was almost a cruelty to disturb her. The trumpet-major at last made up his mind, and tried to draw Anne into a private conversation. The feeling which a week ago had been a vague and peacorn aspiration was to-day altogether too lively for the reasoning of this warm-hearted soldier to regulate. So he persevered in his intention to catch her alone, and at last, in spite of her maneuvers to the contrary, he succeeded. The miller and Mrs. Garland had walked about fifty yards further on, and Anne and himself were left standing by the gate. But the gallant musician's soul was so much disturbed by tender vibrations and by the sense of his presumption that he could not begin, and it may be questioned if he would ever have broached the subject at all, had not a distant church-clock opportunally assisted him by striking the hour of three. The trumpet-major heaved a breath of relief. "'That clock strikes in G-sharp,' he said. "'Indeed, G-sharp,' said Anne civilly. "'Yes, to a fine-toned bell. I used to notice that note when I was a boy.' "'Did you? The very same. "'Yes, and since then I had a wager about that bell with the bandmaster of the north-western militia. He said the note was G. I said it wasn't. When we found it G-sharp, we didn't know how to settle it. "'It is not a deep note for a clock. Oh, no! The finest tenor bell about here is the bell of St. Peter's, Castlebridge, in E-flat. "'Tum! That's the note. Tum! "'The trumpet-major sided from far down his throat what he considered to be E-flat, with a parenthetic sense of luxury unquenchable even by his present distraction. "'Shall we go on to where my mother is?' said Anne, less impressed by the duty of the note that the trumpet-major himself was. "'In one minute,' he said tremulously, "'talking of music, I fear you don't think the rank of a trumpet-major much to compare with your own?' "'I do. I think a trumpet-major a very respectable man. "'I'm glad to hear you say that. It is given out by the king's command that trumpet-majors are to be considered respectable.' "'Indeed. Then I am by chance more loyal than I thought for. "'I get a great deal a year extra to the trumpet-ners because of my position. "'That's very nice. And I'm not supposed ever to drink with the trumpet-ners who serve beneath me. "'Naturally. "'And by the orders of the war-office I am to exert over them, "'that's the government's word, exert over them full authority, "'and if anyone behaves towards me with the least impropriety "'on the decks my orders, is to be confined and reported.' "'It is really a dignified post,' she said, "'with, however, a reserve of enthusiasm "'which was not altogether encouraging. "'And, of course, some day I shall—' "'Stammered the gloom-doom-doom, "'shall be in rather a better position than I am at present. "'I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Loveday.' "'And in short, Mr. San,' continued John Loveday, "'bravely and desperately, "'may I pay court to you in the hope that—' "'No, no, no, don't go away. "'You haven't heard yet, that you may make me the happiest "'of men, not yet, but when peace is proclaimed "'and all is smooth and easy again? "'I can't put it any better, though there's more to be explained.' "'This is most awkward,' said Anne, evidently with pain. "'I cannot possibly agree. "'Believe me, Mr. Loveday, I cannot. "'But there's more than this. "'You will be surprised to see what snug rooms "'the married trumpet and sergeant-majors have in quarters. "'Baracks are not all considered camp and war. "'That brings me to my strong point,' exclaimed the soldier, hopefully. "'My father is better off the most "'non-commissioned officer's fathers, "'and there's always a home for you at his house "'in any emergency. "'I can tell you privately that he has enough to keep us both. "'And if you wouldn't hear of barracks, well, "'Peace once established, I'd live at home as a miller "'and farmer, next door to your own mother.' "'My mother would be sure to object,' expostulated Anne. "'No, she leaves it all to you.' "'What, you've asked her?' said Anne, with surprise. "'Yes, I thought it would not be honourable to act otherwise.' "'That's very good of you,' said Anne, "'her face warming with a generous sense of his straightforwardness. "'But my mother is so entirely ignorant of a soldier's life "'and the life of a soldier's wife. "'She's so simple in all such matters "'that I cannot listen to you any more readily for what she may say. "'Then it is all over for me,' said the poor trumpet-major. "'Wiping his face and putting away his handkerchief "'with an air of finality. "'Anne was silent. "'Any woman who has ever tried will know without explanation "'what an unparatable task it is to dismiss, "'even when she does not love him, "'a man who has all the natural and moral qualities she would desire "'and any fails in the social.' "'Would be lovers are not so numerous, even with the best women, "'that the sacrifice of one can be felt as other "'than a good thing wasted in a world where there are few good things?' "'You are not angry, Miss Garland,' said he, "'finding that she did not speak.' "'Oh, no. Don't let her say anything more about this now.' And she moved on. When she drew near to the miller and her mother, she perceived that they were engaged in a conversation of that peculiar kind which is all the more full and communicative from the fact of definitive words being few. In short, here the game was succeeding, which with herself had failed. It was pretty clear from the symptoms, marks, tokens, telegraphs, and general bi-play between widower and widow, that Miller Love Day must have again said to Mrs. Garland some such thing as he had said before, with what result this time she did not know, as the situation was delicate, and halted a while apart from them. The trumpet major, quite ignorant of how his cause was entered into by the white-coated man of a distance, for his father had not yet told him of his designs upon Mrs. Garland, did not advance, but stood still by the gate as though he were attending a princess, waiting till he should be called up. Thus they lingered, and the day began to break. Mrs. Garland and the miller took no heed of the time and what it was bringing to earth and sky so occupied were they within themselves. But Anne, in her place, and the trumpet major in his, each in private thought of no bright kind, watched the gradual glory of the East through all its tones and changes. The world of birds and insects got lively. The blue and the yellow and the gold of Love Day's uniform again became distinct. The sun bored its way upwards, the fields, the trees, and the distant landscape kindled to flame. And the trumpet major, backed by a lilac shadow as tall as a steeple, blazed in the rays like a very god of war. It was half-past three o'clock. A short time after, a rattle of horses and wheels reached their ears from the quarter in which they gazed, and there appeared upon the white line of road a moving mass which presently ascended the hill and junior. Then there arose a huzzah from the few knots of walkers, watchers gathered there, and they cried, Long live King George! The cortege passed abreast. It consisted of three travelling carriages escorted by a detachment of the German legion. Anne was told to look in the first carriage, a post chariot drawn by four horses, for the king and queen, and was rewarded by seeing a profile reminding her of the current coin of the realm. But as the party had been travelling all night and the spectators here gathered were few, none of the royal family looked out of the carriage windows. It was said that the two elder princesses were in the same carriage, but they remained invisible. The next vehicle, a coach and four, contained more princesses, and the third some of their attendants. Thank God I have seen my king, said Mrs. Garland, when they had all gone by. Nobody else expressed any thankfulness, for most of them had expected a more pompous procession than the bucolic taste of the king cared to indulge him. And one old man said grimly that that sight of dusty old leather coaches was not worth waiting for. Anne looked hither and thither in the bright rays of the day, each of her eyes having a little sun in it, which gave her lance of peculiar golden fire and kindled the brown curls grouped over her forehead to a yellow brilliancy, and made single hairs, burn astray by the night, looked like lacquered wires. She was wondering if Festus were anywhere near, but she could not see him. Before they left the ridge, they turned their attention towards the royal watering-place, which was visible at this place only as a portion of the sea-shore, from which the night mist was rolling back. The sea-beyond was still wrapped in summer fog, the ships in the roads showing through it as black spiders suspended in the air. While they looked and walked, a white jet of smoke burst from a spot which the miller knew to be the battery in front of the king's residence, and then the report of guns reached their ears. This announcement was answered by a salute from the castle of the adjoining isle, and of the ships in the neighbouring anchorage. All the bells in the town began ringing. The king and his family had arrived. CHAPTER XII. HOW EVERYBODY GREAT AND SMALL CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE DOWNS As the days went on, echoes of the life and bustle of the town reached the ears of the quiet people in Overcomb Hollow, exciting and moving those unimportant natives as a ground swell moved the weeds in a cave. Travelling carriages of all kinds and colours climbed and descended the road that led towards the seaside burrow. Some contained those personages of the king's suite who had not kept pace with him in his journey from Windsor. Others were the coaches of aristocracy, big and little, whom news of the king's arrival drew thither for their own pleasure, so that the highway, as seen from the hills about Overcomb, appeared like an ant-walk, a constant succession of dark spots, creeping along its surface at nearly uniform rates of progress, and all in one direction. The traffic and intelligence between camp and town passed in a measure over the villagers' heads. It being summertime, the miller was much occupied with business, and the trumpet-major was too constantly engaged in marching between the camp and Gloucester Lodge with the rest of the dragoons to bring his friends any news for some days. At last he sent a message that there was to be a review on the downs by the king, and that it was fixed for the day following. This information soon spread through the village and country round, and next morning the whole population of Overcomb, except two or three very old men and women, a few babies and their nurses, a cripple, and corporal tullage, ascended the slope with the crowds from afar and awaited the events of the day. The miller wore his best coat on this occasion, which meant a good deal. An Overcomb man in those days would have a best coat, and keep it as a best coat half his life. The millers had seen five and twenty summers chiefly through the chinks of a clothes-box, and was not at all shabby as yet, though getting singular. But that could not be helped. Common coats and best coats were distinct species and never interchangeable. Living so near the scene of the review, he walked up the hill accompanied by Mrs. Garland and Anne as usual. It was a clear day, with little wind stirring, and the view from the downs, one of the most extensive in the county, was unclouded. The eye of any observer who cared for such things swept over the wavewashed down and the bay beyond, and the isle, with its pebble bank lying on the sea to the left of these, like a great crouching animal tethered to the mainland. On the extreme east of the maritime horizon, St. Alhelm's head closed the scene, the sea to the southward of that point glaring like a mirror under the sun. Inland could be seen Badbury Rings, where a beacon had been recently erected, and nearer, Rain Barrow, on Eggdon Heath, where another stood, farther to the left Bull Barrow, where there was yet another. Not far from this came Nuddlecombe Tout, to the west, Dogbury Hill, and Blackon, near to the foreground, the beacon thereon being built of fursfaggots thatched with straw, and standing on the spot where the monument now raises its head. At nine o'clock sharp the troops marched upon the ground, some from the camps in the vicinity, and some from quarters in the different towns round about. The approaches to the down were blocked with carriages of all descriptions, ages and colors, and with pedestrians of every class. At ten the royal personages were said to be drawing near, and soon after the king, accompanied by the dukes of Cambridge and Cumberland, and a couple of generals appeared on horseback, wearing a round hat turned up at the side with a cockade of military feather. Sensation Among the Crowd. Then the queen and three of the princesses entered the field in a great coach, drawn by six beautiful cream-colored horses. Another coach, with four horses of the same sort, brought the two remaining princesses. Confused acclamations, There's King George, that's Queen Charlotte, Princess Elizabeth, Princesses Sophia and Melior, etc. from the surrounding spectators. Anne and her party were fortunate enough to secure a position on the top of one of the barrows which rose here and there in the down, and the miller, having gallantly constructed a little cairn of flints, he placed the two women thereon, by which means they were unable to see over the heads, horses and coaches of the multitudes below and around. At the march, past the miller's eye, which had been wandering about for the purpose, discovered his son in his place by the trumpeters who had moved forwards in two ranks and were sounding the march. That's John, he cried to the widow. His trumpet sling is of two colors, do you see, and the others be plain. Mrs. Garland, too, saw him now, and enthusiastically admired him from her hands upwards, and Anne silently did the same. But before the young woman's eyes had quite left the trumpet major they fell upon the figure of Yeoman Festus riding with his troop and keeping his face at a medium between haughtiness and mere bravery. He certainly looked as soldierly as any of his own core, and felt more soldierly than half a dozen, as anybody could see by observing him. Anne got behind the miller in case Festus should discover her, and regardless of his monarch, rushed upon her in a rage with, Why the devil did you run away from me that night, eh, madam? But she resolved to think no more of him just now, and to stick to Love Day, who was her mother's friend. In this she was helped by the stirring tones which burst from the latter gentleman and his subordinates from time to time. Well, said the miller complacently, there's a few more consequence in a regiment than a trumpeter. He's the chap that tells him what to do after all, eh, Mrs. Garland? So he is, miller, said she. They could no more do without Jack and his men than they could without generals. Indeed they could not, said Mrs. Garland again, in a tone of pleasant agreement with any one in Great Britain or Ireland. It was said that the line that day was three miles long, reaching from the high ground on the right of where the people stood to the turnpike road on the left. After the review came a sham fight, during which action the crowd dispersed more widely over the downs, enabling widow Garland to get still clearer glimpses of the king and his handsome charger, and the head of the queen, and the elbows and shoulders of the princesses and the carriages, and fractional parts of General Garth and the Duke of Cumberland, which cites gave her great gratification. She tugged at her daughter at every opportunity, exclaiming, Now you can see his feather. There's her hat. There's her Majesty's Indian Muslim shawl, in a minor form of ecstasy that made the miller think her more girlish and animated than her daughter Anne. In those military maneuvers the miller followed the fortunes of one man, Anne Garland of two. The spectators, who, unlike our party, had no personal interest in the soldiery, saw only troops and battalions in the concrete straight lines of red, straight lines of blue, white lines formed of innumerable knee-bridges, black lines formed of many gaiters, coming and going in kaleidoscopic change. Who thought of every point in the line as an isolated man, each dwelling all to himself in the hermitage of his own mind? One person did. A young man, far removed from the barrel where the garlands and miller Loveday stood. The natural expression of his face was somewhat obscured by the bronzing effects of rough weather, but the lines of his mouth showed that affectionate impulses were strong within him, perhaps stronger than judgment well could regulate. He wore a blue jacket with little brass buttons, and was plainly a seafaring man. Meanwhile, in the part of the plain where rose the tumulus on which the miller had established himself, a broad brim tradesman was elbowing his way along. He saw Mr. Loveday from the base of the barrel and beckoned to attract his attention. Loveday went halfway down, and the other came up as near as he could. "'Miller,' said the man, a letter has been lying at the post- office for you for the last three days. If I had known that I should see you here, I'd have brought it along with me.' The miller thanked him for the news, and they parted, Loveday returning to the summit. "'What a very strange thing,' he said to Mrs. Garland, who had looked inquiringly at his face, now very grave. That was Bud Mouth Postmaster, and he said there's a letter for me. Ah, I now call to mind that there was a letter in the cradle three days ago this very night, a large red one. But foolish like I thought nothing of it. Who can that letter be from?' A letter at this time was such an event for hamleteers, even of the miller's respectable standing, that Loveday thenceforward was thrown into a fit of abstraction which prevented his seeing any more of the sham fight, or the people, or the king. Mrs. Garland imbibed some of his concern, and suggested that the letter might come from his son Robert. "'I should naturally have thought that,' said miller Loveday. But he wrote to me only two months ago, and his brother John heard from him within the last four weeks, when he was just about starting on another voyage. "'If you'll pardon me, Mrs. Garland, ma'am. I'll see if there's any overcomer man here who is going to Bud Mouth today, so that I may get the letter by night time. I cannot possibly go myself.' So Mr. Loveday left them for a while, and as they were so near home, Mrs. Garland did not wait on the barrel for him to come back, but walked about with Anne a little time, until they should be disposed to trot down the slope to their own door. They listened to a man who was offering one guinea to receive ten in case Bonaparte should be killed in three months, and two other entertainments of that nature which at this time were not rare. Once during their peregrination the eyes of the sailor before mentioned fell upon Anne, but he glanced over her and passed her unheatingly by. Loveday the elder was at this time on the other side of the line looking for a messenger to the town. At twelve o'clock the review was over, and the king and his family left the hill. The troops then cleared off the field, the spectators followed, and by one o'clock the downs were again bare. They still spread their grassy surface to the sun, as on that beautiful morning, not historically speaking so very long ago, but the king and his fifteen thousand armed men, the horses, the bands of music, the princesses, the cream-colored teens, the gorgeous centerpiece, in short, to which the downs were but the mere mount or margin, how entirely they have all passed and gone. Lying scattered about the world as military and other dust, some at Talavera, Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, Toulouse, and Waterloo, some in home church yards, and a few small handfuls in royal vaults. In the afternoon John Loveday, lightened of his trumpet and trappings, appeared at the old millhouse door and beheld Anne standing at hers. I saw you, Miss Garland, said the soldier gaily. Where was I, said she, smiling, on the top of the big mound to the right of the king. And I saw you lots of times, she rejoined. Loveday seemed pleased. Did you really take the trouble to find me? That was very good of you. Her eyes followed you everywhere, said Mrs. Garland, from an upper window. Of course I looked at the dragoons most, said Anne, disconcerted, and when I looked at them my eyes naturally fell upon the trumpets. I looked at the dragoons generally. No, more. He did not mean to show any vexation to the trumpet-major, but he fancied otherwise and stood repressed. The situation was relieved by the arrival of the miller still looking serious. I am very much concerned, John. I did not go to the review for nothing. There's a letter awaiting for me at Budmouth, and I must get it before bedtime or I shan't sleep a wink. I'll go, of course, said John, and perhaps Mrs. Garland would like to see what's doing there today. Everybody is gone or going. The road is like a fair. He spoke pleadingly, but Anne was not one to assent. You can drive in the gig. It'll do blossom good, said the miller. Let David drive, Miss Garland, said the trumpet-major, not wishing to coerce her. I would just as soon walk. Anne joyfully welcomed this arrangement, and a time was fixed for the start. CHAPTER XIII. 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 Roger Malim. THE TRUMPET-MAJOR by Thomas Hardy. CHAPTER XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD. In the afternoon they drove off, John Loveday being nowhere visible. All along the road they passed and were overtaken by vehicles of all descriptions going in the same direction. Among them the extraordinary machines which had been invented for the conveyance of troops to any point of the coast on which the enemy should land. They consisted of four boards placed across a sort of trolley, thirty men of the volunteer companies riding on each. The popular Georgian watering place was in a paradoxism of gaiety. The town was quite overpowered by the country round, much to the town's delight and profit. The fear of invasion was such that six frigates lay in the roads to ensure the safety of the royal family, and from the regiments of horse and foot quartered at the barracks or encamped on the hills round about, a picket of a thousand men mounted guard every day in front of Gloucester Lodge where the king resided. When Anne and her attendant reached this point, which they did on foot, stabling the horse on the outskirts of the town, it was about six o'clock. The king was on the esplanade, and the soldiers were just marching past to mount guard. The band formed in front of the king, and all of the officers saluted as they went by. Anne now felt herself close to and looking into the stream of recorded history within whose banks the littlest things are great, and outside which she and the general bulk of the human race were content to live on as an unreckoned, unheeded superfluity. When she turned from her interested gaze at this scene, there stood John Love Day. She had had a pre-sentiment that he would turn up in this mysterious way. It was marvellous that he could have gone there so quickly, but there he was, not looking at the king or at the crowd, but waiting for the turn of her head. Trumpet Major, I didn't see you, said Anne demurely. How is it that your regiment is not marching past? We take it by turns, and it is not our turn, said Love Day. She wanted to know then if they were afraid that the king would be carried off by the First Consul. Yes, Love Day told her, and his Majesty was rather venturesome. A day or two before he had gone so far to see that he was nearly caught by some of the enemy's cruisers. He is anxious to fight Boney single-handed, he said. What a good brave king, said Anne. Love Day seemed anxious to come to more personal matters. Will you let me take you round to the other side where you can see better? he asked. The Queen and the Princesses are at the window. Anne passively assented. David, wait here for me, she said. I shall be back again in a few minutes. The Trumpet Major then led her off triumphantly and they skirted the crowd and came round on the side towards the sands. He told her everything he could think of, military and civil, to which Anne returned pretty syllables and parenthetic words about the color of the sea and the curl of the foam, a way of speaking that moved the soldier's heart even more than long and direct speeches would have done. And that other thing I asked you, he ventured to say at last. We won't speak of it. You don't dislike me. Oh, no, she said, gazing at the bathing machines, digging children and other common objects of the seashore, as if her interests lay there rather than with him. But I am not worthy of the daughter of a genteel professional man, that's what you mean? There's something more than worthiness required in such cases, you know, she said, still without calling her mind away from surrounding scenes. Ah, there are the Queen and Princesses at the window. Something more? Well, since you'll make me speak, I mean the woman ought to love the man. The Trumpet Major seemed to be less concerned about this than about her supposed superiority. If it were all right on that point, would you mind the other? He asked, like a man who knows he is too persistent, yet who cannot be still. How can I say, when I don't know? What a pretty chipp hat the elder Princess wears. Her companion's general disappointment extended over him almost to his lace and his plume. Your mother said, you know, Miss Anne, yes, that's the worst of it, she said. Let us go back to David. I have seen all I want to see, Mr. Loveday. The mass of the people had by this time noticed the Queen and Princesses at the window and raised a cheer to which the ladies waved their embroidered handkerchiefs. Anne went back towards the pavement with her Trumpet Major, whom all the girls envied her, so fine-looking a soldier was he, and not only for that, but because it was well known that he was not a soldier from necessity, but from patriotism, his father having repeatedly offered to set him up in business, his artistic taste in preferring a horse and uniform to a dirty rumbling flour mill was admired by all. She, too, had a very nice appearance in her best clothes as she walked along. The sarsenet hat, muslin shawl, and tight-sleeved gown being of the newest overcomed fashion that was only about a year old in the adjoining town and in London three or four. She could not be harsh to Loveday and dismiss him curtly, for his musical pursuits had refined him, educated him, and made him quite poetical. Today he had been particularly well-mannered and tender, so instead of answering, never speak to me like this again, she merely put him off with a treat. Let us go back to David. When they reached the place where they had left him, David was gone, and was now positively vexed. What shall I do? she said. He's only gone to drink the king's health, said Loveday, who had privately given David the money for performing that operation. Depend upon it. He'll be back soon. Will you go and find him? said she, with intense propriety in her looks and tone. I will, said Loveday reluctantly, and he went. Anne stood still. She could now escape her gallant friend, for, although the distance was long, it was not impossible to walk home. On the other hand, Loveday was a good and sincere fellow for whom she had almost a brotherly feeling, and she shrank from such a trick. While she stood and amused, scarcely heeding the music, the marching of the soldiers, the king, the dukes, the brilliant staff, the attendants, and the happy groups of people, her eyes fell upon the ground. Before her she saw a flower lying, a crimson sweet William, fresh and uninjured. An instinctive wish to save it from destruction by the passenger's feet led her to pick it up, and then, moved by a sudden self-consciousness, she looked around. She was standing before an inn, and from an upper window Festus Derriman was leaning with two or three kindred spirits of his cut and kind. He nodded eagerly and signified to her that he had thrown the flower. What should she do? To throw it away would seem stupid, and to keep it was awkward. She held it between her finger and thumb, twirled it round on its axis, and twirled it back again, regarding and yet not examining it. Just then she saw the trumpet-major coming back. I can't find David anywhere, he said, and his heart was not sorry as he said it. Anne was still holding out the sweet William as if about to drop it, and, scarcely knowing what she did under the distressing sense that she was watched, she offered the flower to Love Day. His face brightened with pleasure as he took it. Thank you indeed, he said. Then Anne saw what a misleading blunder she had committed towards Love Day and playing to the omen. Perhaps she had sown the seeds of a quarrel. It was not my sweet William, she said hastily, it was lying on the ground. I don't mean anything by giving it to you. But I'll keep it all the same, said the innocent soldier, as if he knew a good deal about womankind, and he put the flower carefully inside his jacket between his white waistcoat and his heart. Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in the face, rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a turnip lantern. Let us go away, said Anne timorously. I'll see you safe to your own door, depend upon me, said Love Day, but I had near forgot. There's Father's letter that he's so anxiously waiting for. Will you come with me to the post office? Then I'll take you straight home. Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad to be off anywhere, so she accepted the suggestion and they went along the parade together. Love Day set this down as a proof of Anne's relenting. Thus, in joyful spirits, he entered the office, paid the postage, and received the letter. It is from Bob, after all, he said. Father told me to read it at once, in case of bad news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a moment. He broke the seal and read, Anne standing silently by. He is coming home to be married, said the trumpet major, without looking up. Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her face at his words, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her rather paler than before. She disguised her agitation and then overcame it, Love Day observing nothing of this emotional performance. As far as I can understand, you will be here Saturday, he said. Indeed, said Anne quite calmly, and who is he going to marry? That I don't know, said John, turning the letter about. The woman is a stranger. At this moment the miller entered the office hastily. Come, John, he cried, I have been waiting and waiting for that there letter till I was nigh crazy. John briefly explained the news, and when his father had recovered from his astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the exact line where his forehead joined his hair, he walked with Anne up the street, leaving John to return alone. The miller was so absorbed in his mental perspective of Bob's marriage that he saw nothing of the gayities they passed through, and Anne seemed also so much impressed by the same intelligence that she crossed before the inn occupied by Festus without showing a recollection of his presence there. CHAPTER XIV Later in the evening of the same day. When they reached home the sun was going down. It had already been noise abroad that miller Love Day had received a letter, and his cart having been heard coming up the lane, the population of Overcoum drew down towards the mill as soon as he had gone indoors. A sudden flash of brightness from the window, showing that he had struck such an early light as nothing but the immediate deciphering of literature could require. Letters were matters of public moment, and everybody in the parish had an interest in the reading of those rare documents. So that when the miller had placed the candle, slanted himself, and called in Mrs. Garland to have her opinion on the meaning of any hieroglyphics that he might encounter in his course, he found that he was to be additionally assisted by the opinions of the other neighbours, whose persons appeared in the doorway, partly covering each other like a hand of cards, yet each showing a large enough piece of himself for identification. To pass the time while they were arranging themselves, the miller adopted his usual way of filling up casual intervals, that of snuffing the candle. We heard you got a letter based on Love Day, they said. Yes, Southampton, the 12th of August, dear father, said Love Day, and they were as silent as relations of the reading of a will. Anne, for whom the letter had a singular fascination, came in with her mother, and sat down. Bob stated in his own way, that had since landing taken into consideration his father's wish that he should renounce a seafaring life and become a partner in the mill, he decided to agree to the proposal, and with that object in view he would return to Overcombe in three days from the time of writing. He then said, incidentally, that since his voyage he had been in lodgings at Southampton, and during that time had become acquainted with a lovely and virtuous young maiden, in whom he found the exact qualities necessary to his happiness. Having known this lady for the full space of a fortnight, he had had ample opportunities of studying her character, and, being struck with the recollection that if there was one thing more than another necessary in a mill which had no mistress, it was somebody who could play that part with grace and dignity, he had asked Miss Matilda Johnson to be his wife. In her kindness she, though sacrificing far better prospects, had agreed, and he could not but regard it as a happy chance that he should have found at the nick of time such a woman to adorn his home, whose innocence was as stunning as her beauty. Without much ado, therefore, he and she had arranged to be married at once, and at Overcombe, that his father might not be deprived of the pleasures of the wedding feast. She kindly consented to follow him by land in the course of a few days, and to live in the house as their guest for the week or so previous to the ceremony. "'Tis a proper good letter,' said Mrs. Comfort from the background. "'I never heard true love better put out of iron in my life, they seem nation fond of one another.' "'You haven't known her such a very long time,' said Job Mitchell dubiously. "'Oh, that's nothing,' said Esther Beach. "'No, to will find a way, very rapid when your time comes for it.' "'Well, it is good news for ye, Mella.' "'Yes, sure, I hoped is,' said Loveday. Without, however, showing any great hurry to burst into the frantic form of fatherly joy which the event should naturally have produced, seeming more disposed to let off his feelings by examining thoroughly into the fibres of the letter paper. "'I was five years, according my wife,' he presently remarked, "'but folks were slower about everything in them days. "'Well, since she's coming, we must make her welcome. "'Did any of you catch by my reading which day it is, he means? "'What, with making out the penmanship, my mind was drawn off from the senses here and there?' "'He says in three days,' said Mrs. Garland, "'the date of the letter will fix it.' "'On examination, it was found that the day appointed was the one nearly expired. "'Of which the miller jumped up and said, "'There'll be here before bedtime. I didn't gather till now that he was coming before Saturday. Why, he may drop in this very minute!' He had scarcely spoken when footsteps were heard coming along the front, and they presently halted at the door. Loveday pushed through the neighbours and rushed out, and seeing in the passage a form which obscured the declining light, the miller seized hold of him, saying, "'Oh, my dear Bob, then you are come!' Scrantched on the miller, "'Don't quite pull my poor shoulder out of joint. Whatever is the matter?' said the newcomer, trying to release himself from Loveday's grasp of affection. It was Uncle Benjy. "'Ah, thought was my son,' thought of the miller, sinking back upon the toes of the neighbours who had closely followed him into the entry. "'Well, come in, Mr. Derriman, and make yourself at home. Why, you haven't been here for years.' "'Whatever has made you come now, sir, of all times in the world?' "'Is he in there with ye?' whispered the farmer with misgiving.' "'Oh!' "'My nephew, after that maid that he so mighty spit with!' "'Oh, no, he never calls here.' Farmer Derriman breathed a spreath of relief. "'Well, I've called to tell ye,' he said, that there's more news of the French, which will have him here this month, as sure as a gun. The gun-boats be already nearly two thousand of them, and the whole army is at Boulogne. "'A miller, I know you to be an honest man.' Loveday did not say nay. "'Nay, but Loveday, I know you to be an honest man,' repeated the old scurrying. "'Can I speak to ye alone?' As the house was full, Loveday took him into the garden, all the while upon tenterhooks, not lest Bonaparte should appear in their midst, but lest Bob should come while he was not there to receive him. When they got into a corner, Uncle Bendrie said, "'Miller, what with the French, and what with my nephew Festus? I assure ye, my life is nothing but worried from morning to night.' "'Miller Loveday, you're an honest man,' Loveday nodded. "'Well, I've come to ask a favour, to ask if you will take charge of my few poor title-titled deeds, and documents, and such like, while I'm away from home next week, lest any thing should befall me, and they should be stole away by Boney or Festus, and I should have nothing left in the whole wide world. I can trust neither banks nor lawyers in these terrible times. And I've come to you,' Loveday, after some hesitation, agreed to take care of anything that Derriman should bring, whereupon the farmer said he would call with the parchment some papers alluded to in the course of a week. Derriman then went away by the garden-gate, mounted his pony, which had been tethered outside, and rode on till his form was lost in the shades. The miller rejoined his friends, and found that in the meantime John had arrived. John informed the company that after parting from his father and Anne, he had rambled to the harbour, and discovered the puet by the key. On inquiry he had learnt that she came in at eleven o'clock, and that Bob had gone ashore. "'Well, go and meet him,' said the miller. "'It is still light out of doors!' So as the dew rose from the meads, and formed fleeces in the hollows, Loveday and his friends and neighbours strolled out, and loitered by the styles which hampered the footpath from Overcoum to the High Road at intervals of a hundred yards. John Loveday, being obliged to return to camp, was unable to accompany them, but Willow Garland fought proper to fall in with the procession. When she put on her bonnet, she called to her daughter. Anne said from upstairs that she was coming in a minute, and her mother walked on without her. What was Anne doing? Having hastily unlocked her receptacle for emotional objects of small size, she took thence the little folded paper with which we have already become acquainted. And, striking a light from her private tinder-box, she held the paper and curl of hair it contained in the candle till they were burnt. Then she put on her hat and followed her mother and the rest of them across to the moist grey fields, chiefly singing in an undertone as she went, to assure herself of her indifference to circumstances.