 CHAPTER 27. He stopped and reflected how to turn this rebuff to advantage. Direct in his project of entering the watering-place and enjoying congratulations upon his patriotic bearing during the advance, he subtly considered that he might be able to make some more use of his enforced retirement by riding to Oberkuhm and glorifying himself in the eyes of Miss Garland before the truth should have reached that hamlet. Having thus decided, he spurred on in a better mood. By this time the volunteers were on the march, and as Deremon ascended the road he met the Oberkuhm Company, in which trudged Miller Love Day shoulder to shoulder with the other substantial householders of the place and its neighbourhood, duly equipped with pouches, cross-belts, fire-locks, flint-boxes, pickers, worms, magazines, priming-horns, heel-ball and per-martem. There was nothing to be gained by further suppression of the truth, and, briefly informing them that the danger was not so immediate as had been supposed, Festus galloped on. At the end of another mile he met a large number of pikemen, including Bob Love Day, whom the yeoman resolved to sound upon the whereabouts of Anne. The circumstances were such as to lead Bob to speak more frankly than he might have done on reflection, and he told Festus to the direction in which the women had been sent. Then Festus informed the group that the report of invasion was false, upon which they all turned to go homeward with greatly relieved spirits. Bob walked beside Derriman's horse for some distance. Love Day had instantly made up his mind to go and look for the women, and ease their anxiety by letting them know the good news as soon as possible. He said nothing of this to Festus during their return together, nor did Festus tell Bob that he also had resolved to seek them out, and by anticipating everyone else in that enterprise make of it a glorious opportunity for bringing Miss Garland to her senses about him. He still resented the ducking that he had received at her hands, and was not disposed to let that insult pass without abstaining some sort of sweet revenge. As soon as they had parted Festus cantered on over the hill, meeting on his way the long puddle volunteers, sixty rank and file, under Captain Cunningham, the Castorbridge Company, Ninety Strong, known as the Consideration Company in those days, under Captain Strickland, and others, all with anxious faces and covered with dust. Just passing the word to them and leaving them at halt, he proceeded rapidly onward in the direction of Kingsborough. Nobody appeared on the road for some time, till after a ride of several miles he met a stray corporal of volunteers who tell Festus in answer to his inquiry that he had certainly passed no gig full of women of the kind described. Seeing that he had missed them by following the highway, Derrimon turned back into a lane along which they might have chosen to journey for privacy's sake, notwithstanding the badness and uncertainty of its track. Arriving again within five miles of Overcum, he had length heard tidings of the wandering vehicle and its precious burden, which, like the Ark, when sent away from the country of the Philistines, had apparently been left to the instincts of the beast that drew it. A laboring man, just at daybreak, had seen the helpless party going slowly up a distant drive, which he pointed out. No sooner had Festus parted from this informant than he beheld Bob approaching, mounted on the miller's second and heavier horse. Bob looked rather surprised, and Festus felt his coming glory in danger. They went down that lane, he said, signifying precisely the opposite direction to the true one. I too have been on the lookout for missing friends. As Festus was riding back, there was no reason to doubt his information, and Love Day rode on as misdirected. Immediately that he was out of sight, Festus reversed his course and followed the track which Anne and her companions were asked to see to pursue. This road had been ascended by the gig in question nearly two hours before the present moment. Molly, the servant, held the reins, Mrs. Love Day sat behind her and Anne behind. Their progress was but slow, owing partly to Molly's want of skill, and partly to the steepness of the road, which here passed over downs of some extent and was rarely or never mended. It was an anxious morning for them all, and the beauties of the early summer day fell upon unheeding eyes. They were too anxious even for conjecture, and each sat thinking her own thoughts, occasionally glancing westward, or stopping the horse to listen to sounds from more frequented roads along which other parties were retreating. Once, while they listened and gazed thus, they saw a glittering in the distance and heard the tramp of many horses. It was a large body of cavalry going in the direction of the king's watering-place, the same regiment of dragoons, in fact, which Festus had seen further on in its course. The women in the gig had no doubt that these men were marching at once to engage the enemy. By way of varying the monotony of the journey, Molly occasionally burst into tears of horror, believing bone-apart to be incontinence and habits precisely what the caricatures represented him. His love-day endeavored to establish cheerfulness by assuring her companions of the natural civility of the French nation, with whom unpretated women were safe from injury, unless through the casual excesses of soldiery beyond control. This was poor consolation to Anne, whose mind was more occupied with Bob than with herself, and a miserable fear that she would never again see him alive so paled her face and saddened her gaze forward, that at last her mother said, Who was you thinking of, my dear? Anne's only reply was a look at her mother, with which a tear mingled. Molly whipped the horse by which she quittent his pace for five yards, when he again fell into the perverse slowness that showed how fully conscious he was of being the mastermind and chief personage of the fall. Whenever there was a pool of water by the road he turned aside to drink a mouthful, and remained there his own time, in spite of Molly's tug of the reins and futile fly-flapping on his rump. They were now in the chalk district where there were no hedges, and a rough attempt at mending the way had been made by throwing down huge lumps of that glaring material in heaps, without troubling to spread it or break them abroad. The jolting here was most distressing and seemed about to snap the springs. How that wheel do wobble! said Molly at last. She had scarcely spoken when the wheel came off, and all three were precipitated over into the road. Fortunately, the horse stood still, and they began to gather themselves up. The only one of the three who had suffered in the lease from the fall was Anne, and she was any conscious of a severe shaking which had half-stupidized her for the time. The wheel lay flat in the road, so there was no possibility of driving further in their present plight. They looked around for help. The only friendly object near was a lonely cottage, from its situation evidently the home of a shepherd. The horse was unharnessed and tied to the back of the gig, and the three women went across to the house. On getting close they found that the shutters of all the lower windows were closed, but on trying the door it opened to the hand. Nobody was within. The house appeared to have been abandoned in some confusion, and the probability was that the shepherd had fled on hearing the alarm. Anne now said that she felt the effects of her fall too severely to be able to go on any further just then, and it was agreed that she should be left there while Mrs. Loveday and Molly went on for assistance, the elder lady deeming Molly too young and vacant-minded to be trusted to go alone. Molly suggested taking the horse, as the distance might be great, each of them sitting alternately on his back while the other led him by the head. This they did, Anne watching them vanish down the white and lumpy road. She then looked round the room, as well as she could do so by the light from the open door. It was plain from the shutters being closed that the shepherd had left his house before daylight, the candle and the extinguisher on the table pointing to the same conclusion. Here she remained, her eyes occasionally sweeping the bare, sunny expanse of down, that was only relieved from absolute emptiness by the overturned gig hard by. The sheep seemed to have gone away, and scarcely a bird flew across to disturb the solitude. Anne had risen early that morning, and leaning back in the withy chair which she had placed by the door, she soon fell into an uneasy dose, from which she was awakened by the distant tramp of a horse. Feeling much recovered from the effects of the overturn, she eagerly rose and looked out. The horse was not miller-love-days, but a powerful bay bearing a man in full yeomanry uniform. Anne did not wait to recognize further, instantly re-entering the house, she shut the door and bolted it. In the dark she sat and listened, not a sound. At the end of ten minutes, thinking that if the rider, if he were not Festus, had carelessly passed by, or that if he were Festus he had not seen her, she crept softly upstairs and peeped out of the window. Accepting the spot of shade formed by the giggers before, the down was quite bare. She then opened the casement and stretched out her neck. Ha! young madam, there you are, I knew ye, now you are caught!" Came like a clap of thunder from a point three or four feet beneath her, and turning down her frightened eyes she beheld Festus Derriman lurking close to the wall. His attention had first been attracted by her shutting the door of the cottage, then by the overturned gig, and after making sure by examining the vehicle that he was not mistaken in her identity, he dismounted, let his horse round to the side, and crept up to entrap her. And started back into the room, and remained still as a stone. Festus went on, Come! You must trust me. The French have landed. I've been trying to meet you every hour since that confounded trick you played me. You threw me into the water. Faith it was well for you, I didn't catch ye then. I should have taken a revenge in a better way than I shall now. I mean to have that kit of ye. Come, Miss Nancy, do you hear? It is no use for you to lurk inside there. You'll have to turn out as soon as Boney comes over the hill. Are you going to open the door, I say, and speak to me in a civil way? What do you think I am, then, that you should barricade yourself against me as I was a wild beast or Frenchman? Open the door, or put your head out, or do something, or, upon my soul, I'll break in the door. It occurred to Anne at this point of the tirade that the best policy would be to temperize till somebody should return, and she put out her head and face, now grown somewhat pale. That's better, said Festus, now I can talk to you. Come, my dear, will you not open the door? Why should you be afraid of me? I am not altogether afraid of you. I am safe from the French here," said Anne, not very truthfully, and anxiously casting her eyes over the vacant down. Then let me tell you that the alarm is false, and that no landing has been attempted. Now would you open the door and let me in? I am tired. I have been on horseback ever since daylight, and have come to bring you the good tidings." Anne looked as if she doubted the news. Come, said Festus. No, I cannot let you in, she murmured, after a pause. Dash my wig, then, he cried, his face flaming up. I'll find a way to get in. Now don't you provoke me? You don't know what I am capable of. I asked you again, would you open the door? Why do you wish it? She said faintly. I have told you I want to sit down, and I want to ask you a question. You can ask me from where you are. I cannot ask you properly. It's about a serious matter, whether you will accept my heart and hand. I am not going to throw myself at your feet. But I ask you to do your duty as a woman, namely, give your solemn word to take my name as soon as the war is over, and I have time to attend to you. I scorned to ask if, to a haughty hussy, you only speak to me through a window. However, I put it to you for the last time, madam. There was no sign on the dine of anybody's return. And she said, I'll think of it, sir. You thought of it long enough. I wanted to know. Will you or won't you? I know well. I think I will. And then she felt that she might be buying personal safety too dearly by shuffling thus, since he would spread the report that she had accepted him, and caused endless complication. No, she said, I have changed my mind. I cannot accept you, Mr. Derriman. That's how you play with me, he exclaimed, stamping. Yes, one moment, know the next. Come, you don't know what you refuse. That old hall is my uncle's own, and he has nobody else to leave it to. As soon as he's dead, I shall throw up, farming, and start as a squire. And now, he added with a bit of sneer, what a fool you are to hang back from such a chance. Thank you. I don't value it, said Anne. Because you hate him, who would make it yours? It may not lie in your power to do that. What, has the old fellow been telling you his affairs? No. Then why do you mistrust me? Now after this would you open the door, and show that you'd treat me as a friend, if you won't accept me as a lover? I only want to sit and talk to you." Anne thought she would trust him. It seemed almost impossible that he could harm her. She retired from the window, and went downstairs. When her hand was upon the bolt of the door, her mind misgave her. Instead of withdrawing it, she remained in silence where she was, and he began again. Are you going to unfasten it? Anne did not speak. Now dash my wig, I'll get at you. You tried me beyond endurance. One kiss would have been enough that day in the mead. Now I'll have forty, whether you will or no." He flung himself against the door. But as it was bolted, and had in addition a great wooden bar across it, this produced no effect. He was silent for a moment, and then the terrified girl heard him attempt the shuttered window. She ran upstairs, and again scanned the down. The yellow gig still lay in the blazing sunshine, and the horse of Fester stood by the corner of the garden. Nothing else was to be seen. At this moment there came to her ear the noise of a sword drawn from its scabbard, and peeping over the windowsill she saw her tormentor drive his sword between the joints of the shutters in an attempt to rip them open. The sword snapped off in his hand. With an implication he pulled out the piece, and returned the two halves to the scabbard. Ha-ha! he cried, catching sight of the top of her head. It is only a joke, you know, but I'll get it all the same, all for a kiss. Never mind, we'll do it here." He spoke in an effectively light tone, as if ashamed of his previous resentful temper. But she could see by the livid back of his neck that he was brimful of suppressed passion. Only a jest, you know, he went on. How are we going to do it now? Oh, why, in this way, I go and get a ladder, and enter the upper window where my love is. And there's the ladder lying under that corn-rick and the first enclosed field, back in two minutes, dear." He ran off, and was lost to her view. CHAPTER XXVIII Anne fearfully surveyed her position. The upper windows of the cottage were of flimsiest leadwork, and to keep him out would be hopeless. She felt that not a moment was to be lost in getting away. Running downstairs, she opened the door, and then it occurred to her terrified understanding that there would be no chance of escaping him by flight of foot across such an extensive down since he might mount his horse and easily ride after her. The animal still remained tethered at the corner of the garden. If she could release him and fright him away before Festus returned, there would not be quite such odds against her. She accordingly unhooked the horse by reaching over the bank, and then, pulling off her muslin neck-chief, flapped it in his eyes to startle him. But the gallant steed did not move or flinch. She tried again, and he seemed rather pleased than otherwise. At this moment she heard a cry from the cottage, and turning beheld her adversary approaching round the corner of the building. I thought I should tull out the mouse by that trick, cried Festus exultingly. Instead of going for a ladder, he had simply hidden himself at the back to tempt her down. Poor Anne was now desperate. The bank on which she stood was level with the horse's back, and the creature seemed quiet as a lamb. With the determination of which she was capable in emergencies she seized the rain, flung herself upon the sheepskin, and held on by the mane. The amazed charger lifted his head, sniffed, wrenched his ears, hither and thither, and started off at a frightful speed across the down. Oh, my hearts and limbs! said Festus under his breath, as thoroughly alarmed he gazed after her. She's on champion! She'll break her neck, and I shall be tried for manslaughter, and his grace will be brought upon the name of Derriman. Champion continued to go to stretch Gallop, but he did nothing worse. Had he plunged or reared, Derriman's fears might have been verified, and Anne have come with deadly force to the ground. But the course was good, and in the horse's speed lay a comparative security. She was scarcely shaken in her precarious half-horizontal position, though she was ordered to see the grass, loose stones, and other objects pass her eyes like strokes whenever she opened them, which was only just for a second at intervals of half a minute, and to feel how wildly the stirrup swung, and that which struck her knee was the bucket of the carbine, and that it was a pistol holster which hurt her arm. They quickly cleared the down, and Anne became conscious that the course of the horse was homeward. As soon as the ground began to rise towards the outer belt of Upland which lay between her and the coast, Champion, now panting and reeking with moisture, lessened his speed in sheer weariness, and proceeded at a rapid, jolting trot. Anne felt that she could not hold on half so well, the gallop had been child's play compared with this. They were in a lane ascending to a ridge, and she made up her mind for a fall. Over the ridge rose an animated spot, higher and higher, it turned out to be the upper part of a man, and the man to be a soldier. Such was Anne's attitude that she only got an occasional glimpse of him, and though she feared that he might be a Frenchman, she feared the horse more than the enemy, and she had feared Festus more than the horse. Anne had energy in her flesh to cry, Stop him! Stop him! as the soldier drew near. He, astonished at the sight of a military horse with a bundle of drapery across his back, had already placed himself in the middle of the lane, and he now held out his arms till his figure assumed the form of a Latin cross planted in the roadway. Trampion Duneer swerved and stood still almost suddenly, a check sufficient to send Anne slipping down his flank to the ground. The timely friend stepped forward and helped her to her feet, when she saw that he was John Loveday. Are you hurt? he said hastily, having turned quite pale at seeing her fall. Oh! Oh! No! Not a bit! said Anne, gathering herself up with forced bristness to make light of the misadventure. But how did you get in such a place? There he's gone! she exclaimed, instead of replying, as champion swept round John Loveday and counted off triumphantly in the direction of Oxwell, a performance which she followed with her eyes. But how did you come upon his back, and whose horse is it? I will tell you. Well, I cannot tell you. John looked steadily at her, saying nothing. How did you come here? She asked. Is it true that the French have not landed at all? Quite true. The alarm was groundless. I'll tell you all about it. You look very tired. You'd better sit down a few minutes. Let us sit on this bank. He helped her to the slope indicated, and continued, still as if his thoughts were more occupied with the mystery of her recent situation than with what he was saying. We arrived at Budmouth Barracks this morning, and had to lie there all the summer. I could not write to tell father we were coming. It was not because of any rumour of the French, for we knew nothing of that till we met the people on the road, and the colonel said in a moment the news was false. Born apart is not even a bologna just now. I was anxious to know you how you were born the fright, so I hastened to overcome it once, as soon as I could get out of Barracks. Anne, who had not been at all responsive to his discourse, now swayed heavily against him, and looking quickly down, he found that she had silently fainted. To support her in his arms was, of course, the impulse of a moment. There was no water to be had, and he could think of nothing else but to hold her tenderly till she came round again. Certainly he desired nothing more. Again he asked himself, what did it all mean? He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids and at the row of lashes lying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed itself in singular perfection, now that the customary pink had given place to a pale luminousness caught from the surrounding atmosphere. The dumpy ringlets about her forehead behind her pole, which were usually as tight as springs, had been partially uncoiled by the wildness of her ride, and hung in split locks over her forehead and neck. John, who joined the long months of his absence, had lived only to meet her again, was in a state of ecstatic reverence, and bending down he gently kissed her. Anne was just becoming conscious. Oh, Mr. Derriman, never, never! she murmured, sweeping her face with her hand. I thought he was at the bottom of it, said John. Anne opened her eyes and started back from him. What is it? she said wildly. You are ill, my dear Miss Garland, replied John, in trembling anxiety and taking her hand. I'm not ill, I'm weirded out, she said. Can't we walk on? How far are we from Uvercoum? But a mile. But tell me, somebody has been hurting you, frightening you. I know who it was. It was Derriman, and that was his horse. Now, do you tell me all? Anne reflected. Then if I tell you, she said, would you discuss with me what I had better do, and not for the present, let my mother and your father know. I don't want to alarm them, and I must not let my affairs interrupt the business connection between the mill and the hall that has gone on for so many years. The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told of the adventure. His briar readened as she went on, and when she had done, she said, Now you are angry. Don't do anything dreadful, will you? Remember that this Festus will most likely succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite of present appearances, and if Bob succeeds at the mill, there should be no enmity between them. That's true. I won't tell Bob. Leave him to me. Where is Derriman now? On his way home, I suppose. When I have seen you into the house, I will deal with him quite quietly, so she shall say nothing about it. Yes, appeal to him, do perhaps he will be better then. They walked on together, love-day seeming to experience much quiet bliss. I came to look for you, he said, because of that dear sweet letter you wrote. Yes, I did write you a letter, she admitted, with misgiving, now beginning to see her mistake. It was because I was sorry I had blamed you. I'm always glad you did blame me, said John cheerfully, since, if you had not, the letter would not have come. I read it fifty times a day. This put Anne into an unhappy mood, and they proceeded without much further talk till the mill-chimneys were visible below them. John then said that he would leave her to go in by herself. Ah! You are going back to get into some danger on my account? I can't get into much danger with such a fellow as he, can I? said John, smiling. Well, no, she answered, with a sudden carelessness of tone. It was indispensable that he should be undeceived, and to begin the process by taking in an effectively light view of his personal risks was perhaps a good-as-way to do it as any. Where friendliness was construed as love, and assumed indifference was a necessary expression for friendliness. So she let him go, and bidding him hasten back as soon as he could, went down the hill, while John's feet retraced the upland. The trumpet-major spent the whole afternoon and evening in that long and difficult search for Festus Derriman. Crossing the down at the end of the second hour, he met Molly and Mrs. Loveday. The gig had been repaired, they had learnt the grandessness of the alarm, and they would have been proceeding happily enough but their anxiety about Anne. John told them shortly that she had got a lift home, and proceeded on his way. The worthy object of his search had in the meantime been plodding homeward on foot, sulking at the loss of his charger, encumbered with his sword, belts, high boots, and uniform, and in his own discomforture cared us whether Anne Garland's life had been endangered or not. At length Derriman reached a place where the road ran between high banks, one of which he mounted, and paced along as a change from the hard trackway. Ahead of him he saw an old man sitting down, with eyes fixed on the dust of the road, as if resting and meditating at one at the same time. Being pretty sure that he recognised his uncle in that venerable figure, Festus came forward stealthily, till he was immediately above the old man's back. The latter was clothed in faded nankine britches, speckled stockings, a drab hat, and a coat, which had once been light blue, but from exposure as a scarecrow, had assumed the complexion of fibre of a dried pudding-cloth. The farmer was in fact returning to the hall, which he had left in the morning some time later than his nephew, to seek an asylum in a hollow tree about two miles off. The tree was so situated as to command a view of the building. An uncle Benji had managed to clamber up inside this natural fortification high enough to watch his residence through a hole in the bark, till, gathering from the words of occasional passers-by, that the alarm was at least premature, he had ventured into daylight again. He was now engaged in abstractly tracing a diagram in the wood-dust with his walking-stick, a muttered word to himself aloud. Presently he arose and went on his way without turning round. Festus was curious enough to descend and look at the marks. They resembled an oblong with two semi-diagonals and a little square in the middle. Upon the diagonals were the figures twenty and seventeen, and on each side of the parallelograms stood a letter signifying the point of the compass. What crazy thing is running in his head now? said Festus to himself with supercilious pity, recollecting that the farmer had been singing those very numbers earlier in the morning. Being able to make nothing of it, he lengthened his strides and treading on tiptoe overtook his relative, saluting him by scratching his back like a hen. The startled old farmer danced round like a top, and gasping, said, as he perceived his nephew, What, Festi, not from the o' horse and killed, then after all? No, Nunk, what made you think that? Champion passed me about an hour ago when I was in hiding, poor timid soul of me, for I had nothing to lose by the French coming, and he looked awful, with the stirrups dangling and the stash-addle empty. It is a gloomy sight, Festi, to see a horse cantering without a rider, and I thought you'd been, feared you'd been thrown off and killed as dead as a knit. This, your dear old heart for being so anxious, and what pretty picture were you drawing just now with your walking stick? All that. That's only a way I have of amusing myself. It showed how the French might have advanced to the attack, you know. Such trifles fill the head of a weak old man like me. Or the place where something is hid away, money, for instance. Festi, said the farmer reproachfully, You always know I use the old glove in the bedroom, cupboard for any guinea or two I possess. Of course I do, said Festi's ironically. They had now reached a lonely inn about a mile and a half from the hall, and, the farmer not responding to his nephew's kind invitation to come in and treat him, Festi's entered alone. He was dusty, draggled, and weary, and he remained at the tavern long. The trumpet-major in the meantime, having searched to the roads in vain, heard in the course of the evening of the yeoman's arrival at this place, and that he would probably be found there still. He accordingly approached the door, reaching it just as the dusk of evening changed to darkness. There was no light in the passage, but John pushed on at hazard, inquired for Derrimon, and was told that he would be found in the back parlour alone. When Lovide first entered the apartment he was unable to see anything, but following the guidance of a vigorous snoring, he came to the settle, upon which Festi's lay asleep, his position being faintly signified by the shine of his buttons and other parts of his uniform. John laid his hand upon the reclining figure and shook him, and by degrees Derrimon stopped his snore and sat up. "'Who are you?' he said, in the accents of a man who's been drinking hard. "'Is it you, dear Anne? Let me kiss you. Yes, I will.' "'Shut your mouth, you pitiful blockhead, I'll teach you gentler manners than to persecute a young woman in that way!' And taking Festi's by the ear, he gave it a good pull. Festi's broke out with an oath and struck a vague blow in the air with his fist, whereupon the trumpet-major dealt him a box on the right ear and a similar one on the left to artistically balance the first. Festi's jumped up and used his fists wildly, but without any definite result. "'Want to fight, do ye, eh?' said John. Nonsense, you can't fight, you great baby, and never could. You're only fit to be smacked.' And he dealt Festi as a specimen of the same on the cheek with the palm of his hand. "'No, sir, no, you are Loveday. Your marriage is going to be married to, I suppose. Dash me, I didn't want to hurt her, sir.' "'Yes, my name is Loveday, and you'll know where to find me since we can't finish this tonight. Girls or swords, whichever you like, my boy. Take that and that, so that you may not forget to call upon me.' And again he smacked the yeoman's ears and cheeks. "'Do you know what it's for, eh?' "'No, Mr. Loveday, sir. Yes, I mean I do. What is it for, then? How do you keep smacking until you tell me?' "'Gad, if you weren't drunk, I'd half kill you here tonight, I would.' "'It's because I served her badly. Damn, if I care, I'll do it again and be hanged to her. Where's my horse-champion? Tell me that!' And he hit at the trumpet-major. John parried this attack, and, taking him firmly by the collar, pushed him down into the seat, saying, "'Here I hold ye till ye beg pardon for your doings today. Do you want any more of it, do you?' And he shook the yeoman to a sort of jelly. "'I do beg pardon. No, I don't. I say this, that you shall not take such liberties with old squire-dermant nephew, you dirty miller's son, you flower-worm, you smut in the corn. I'll call you out to-morrow morning, and have my revenge.' "'Of course you will. That's what I came for.' And, pushing him back into the corn of the settle, Loveday went out of the house, feeling considerable satisfaction at having got himself into the beginning of as nice a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most jealous lover could desire. But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the least notion, that, fester's derriman, misled by the darkness, the fumes of his petations, and the constant sight of Anne and Bob together, never once supposed his assailants to be any other man than Bob, believing the trumpet-major miles away. There was a moon during the early part of John's walk home, but when he had arrived within a mile of Oberkuhm, the sky clouded over, and rain suddenly began to fall with some violence. Near him was a wooden granary on tall stone staddles, and perceiving that the rain was only a thunderstorm which would soon pass away, he ascended the steps and entered the doorway, where he stood, watching the half-obscured moon through the streaming rain. Presently, to his surprise, he beheld a female figure running forward with great rapidity, not towards the granary for shelter, but towards open ground. What could she be running for in that direction? The answer came in the appearance of his brother Bob from that quarter, seated on the back of his father's heavy horse. As soon as the woman met him, Bob dismounted, and caught her in his arms. They stood locked together, the rain beating into their unconscious forms, and the horse looking on. The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw himself on a heap of empty sacks which lay in the corner. He had recognized the woman to be Anne. Then he reclined in a stupor till he was aroused by the sound of voices under him. The voices of Anne and his brother, who, having at last discovered that they were getting wet, had taken shelter under the granary floor. "'I have been home,' said she. "'Mother and Molly have both got back long ago. We were all anxious about you, and I came out to look for you. Oh, Bob, I am so glad to see you again!' John might have heard every word of the conversation which was continued in the same strain for a long time. He stopped his ears, and would not. Still they remained, and still was he determined that they should not see him. With the conserved hope of more than half a year dashed away in a moment, he could yet feel that the cruelty of a protest would be even greater than its in-utility. He was absolutely by his own contrivance that the situation had been shaped. Bob, left to himself, would long ere this have been the husband of another woman. The rain decreased, and the lovers went on. John looked after them as they strolled, aqua-tinted by the weak moon and mist. Bob had thrust one of his arms through the rain of the horse, and the other was round Anne's waist. When they were lost behind the detativity the trumpet-major came out, and walked homeward even more slowly than they. As he went on his face put off its complexion of despair for one of serene resolve. For the first time in his dealings with friends he entered upon a course of counterfeiting, set his features to conceal his thought, and instructed his tongue to do likewise. He threw fictitiousness into his very gait even now when there was nobody to see him, and struck at stems of wild parsley with his regimental switch as he had used to do when soldiering was new to him, and life in general a charming experience. Thus cloaking his sickly thought he descended to the mill as the others had done before him, occasionally looking down upon the wet road to notice how close Anne's little tracks were to Bob's all the way along, and how precisely a curve in his course was followed by a curve in hers. But after this he erected his head, and walked so smartly up to the front door that his spurs rang through the court. They had all reached home, but before any of them could speak he cried gaily, Ah Bob, I have been thinking of you, by God, how are you, my boy? No friend to cut roads after you all, you see? Here we are, well and happy together again. A good providence has watched over us, said Mrs. Loveday, cheerfully, Yes, in all times and places we are in God's hand. So we be, so we be, said the miller, who still shone in all the fierceness of uniform. Well now, we'll have a drop of drink. There's none, said David, coming forward with a drawn face. What, said the miller, for I went to church for a pike to defend my native country from boney. I pulled out the spigots of all the barrels, myster, for think's I'd damn him since we can't drink it ourselves, he shan't have it, nor none of his men. But you shouldn't have done it till you were sure you'd come, said the miller, aghast. Chug it all, I was sure, said David, I'd soon see churches fall than good drink wasted, but I was I to know better. Well, well, what with one thing and another this day will cost me a pretty penny, said Loveday, bustling off to the cellar, which he found to be several inches deep in stagnant liquor. John, how can I welcome ye? He continued helplessly on his return to the room. Only go and see what he's done. I've ladled up a drop with a spoon, drop it, Major, said David, mm, doesn't bad-drinking, though it do taste a little of the floor, that's true. John said that he did not require anything at all, and they all sat down to supper, and were very temperately gay with a drop of mild elder wine which Mrs. Loveday found at the bottom of a jar. The trumpet-major, adhering to the part he meant to play, gave humorous accounts of his adventures since he had last sat there. He told them that the season was to be a very lively one, that the royal family was coming as usual, and many other interesting things. Said that when he left them to return to Barracks few would have supposed the British army to contain a lighter-hearted man. The man was the only one who doubted the reality of his behaviour. When she had gone up to her bedroom, she stood for some time looking at the wick of the candle as if it were a painful object, the expression of her face being shaped by the conviction that John's afternoon words when he helped her out of the way of the champion were not in accordance with his words to-night, and that the dimly-realised kiss during her faintness was no imaginary one. But in the blissful circumstances of having Bob at hand again she took optimistic views, and persuaded herself that John would soon begin to see her in the light of a sister. Chapter 29 of the trumpet-major. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers. The trumpet-major by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 29 A December. To curse-review, John Loveday seemed to accomplish this with amazing ease. Whenever he came from Barracks to Overcoome, which was once or twice a week, he related news of all sorts to her and Bob with infinite zest, and made at the time as happy a one as had ever been known at the mill, save for himself alone. He said nothing of Festus, except so far as to inform Anne that he had expected to see him and be disappointed. On the evening after the king's arrival at his seaside residence, John appeared again, staying to supper, and describing the royal entry the many tasteful illuminations and transparencies which had been exhibited, the quantities of tallow candles burnt for that purpose, and the swarms of aristocracy who had followed the king thither. When supper was over, Bob went outside the house to shut the shutters, which had, as was often the case, been left open some time after lights were kindled within. John still sat at the table when his brother approached the window, though the others had risen and retired. Bob was struck by seeing through the pain how John's face had changed. Throughout the supper-time he had been talking to Anne in the gay tone habitual with him now, which gave greater strangeness to the gloom of his present appearance. He remained in thought for a moment, took a letter from his boot-pocket, opened it, and with a tender smile at his weakness, kissed the writing before restoring it to its place. The letter was one that Anne had written to him at Exenbury. Bob took perplexed, and then a suspicion crossed his mind that John, from brotherly goodness, might be feigning a satisfaction with recent events which he did not feel. Bob now made a noise with the shutters at which the trumpet-major rose and went out. Bob at once following him. "'Jack,' said the sailor, ingenuously, "'I'm terribly sorry that I've done wrong.' "'How?' asked his brother, in courting our little Anne. "'Well, you see, John, she was in the same house with me, and somehow or other I made myself her beau. But I've been thinking that perhaps you had the first claim on her, and if so, Jack, I'll make way for you. I don't care for her much, you know, not so very much, and can give her up very well. It's nothing serious between us at all. Yes, John, you try to get her. I can look elsewhere.' Bob never knew how much he loved Anne, till he found himself making this speech of renunciation. "'Oh, Bob, you are mistaken,' said the trumpet-major, who was not deceived. When I first saw her, I admired her, and I am mahanah, and like her. I like her so well that I should be glad to see you marry her.' "'But,' replied Bob with hesitation, "'I thought I saw you looking very sad as if you were in love. I saw you take out a letter in short. That's what it was, disturbed me, and made me come to you.' "'Oh, I see your mistake,' said John, laughing forcibly.' At this minute Mrs. Loveday and the miller, who were taking a twilight walk in the garden, strolled round to near where the brothers stood. She talked volubly on events in Budmouth, as most people did at this time. "'And they tell me that the theatre has been painted up afresh,' she was saying, and that the actors have come for the season with the most lovely actresses that ever were seen. When they passed by, John continued, "'I am in love, Bob, but not with Anne.' "'Ah, who is it then?' said the mate, hopefully.' "'One of the actresses in the theatre,' John replied, with a concoctive look at the vanishing forms of Mr. and Mrs. Loveday. "'She is a very lovely woman, you know, but we won't say anything more about it. It dashes a man, so.' "'Oh, one of the actresses,' said Bob, with open mouth. "'But don't you say anything about it?' continued the trumpet-major heartily. "'I don't want it known.' "'No, no, I won't, of course—may I not know her name?' "'No, not now, Bob. I cannot tell you,' John answered, and with truth, for Loveday did not know the name of any actress in the world. When his brother had gone, Captain Bob hastened off in a state of great animation to Anne, whom he found on the top of a neighbouring hillock, which the daylight had scarcely as yet deserted. "'You've been a long time coming in, sir,' said she, in sprightly tones of reproach. "'Yes, dearest, and you'll be glad to hear why. I've found out the whole mystery. Yes, why, he's queer in everything.' Anne looked startled. "'He's up to the gunnel in love. We must try to help him on it. Or I fear he'll go melancholy mad like. Can we help him?' she asked faintly. "'He's lost his art to one of the play-actors it, but Bob Marathon, I think she slights him.' "'Oh, I'm so glad,' she exclaimed. "'Glad that his venture don't prosper. Oh, no, glad he's so sensible. How long is it since that alarm of the French?' "'Six weeks, honey. Why do you ask?' "'Men can forget in six weeks, can't they, Bob?' The impression that John had really kissed her still remained. "'Well, some men might,' said observed Bob judiciously. "'I couldn't. Perhaps John might. I couldn't forget you in twenty times as long. Do you know, Anne, I half thought it was you John cared about, and it was a weight off my mind when he said he didn't. "'Did he say he didn't?' "'Yes, he assured me himself that the only person the whole of his heart was this lovely play-actress and nobody else. "'How I should like to see her?' "'Yes, so should I. "'I'd rather it had been one of our own neighbour's girls whose birth and breeding me know of, but still, if that is his taste, I hope it will end well for him. "'How very quick he has been. I certainly wish we could see her.' "'I don't know so much as her name. "'He's very close and wouldn't tell a thing about her.' "'Couldn't we get him to go to the theatre with us, and then we could watch him, and easily find out the right one? "'Then we would learn if she is a good young woman, and if she is, could we not ask her here, and so make it smoother for him? "'He's been very gay recently. That means budding love. And sometimes between his gayities he's had melancholy moments. That means there's difficulty.' Bob fought her plan a good one, and resolved to put it into practice on the first available evening. Anne was very curious as to whether John did really cherish a new passion, the story having quite surprised her. Possibly it was true, six weeks had passed since John had shown a single symptom of the old attachment, and what could not that space of time effect in the heart of a soldier whose very profession it was to leave girls behind him. After this, John Loveday did not come in to see them for nearly a month, a neglect which was set down by Bob as an additional proof that his brother's affections were no longer exclusively centred to his old home. When at last he did arrive, and the theatre going was mentioned to him, the flush of consciousness which Anne expected to see upon his face was unaccountably absent. "'Yes, Bob, I should very well like to go to the theatre,' he replied anxiously. "'Who's going besides?' "'Only Anne,' Bob told him, and then it seemed to occur to the trumpet major that something had been expected of him. He rose and said privately to Bob with some confusion. "'Oh, yes, of course we'll go, as I am connected with one of the—in short, I could get you in for nothing, you know. At least let me manage everything.' "'Yes, yes, I wonder you didn't propose to take us before Jack, and let us have a good look at her.' "'I ought to have. You should go on a king's night. You won't want me to point her out, Bob. I have my reason at present for asking it.' "'We'll be content with guessing,' said his brother. When the gallant's jawn was gone, Anne observed, "'Bob, how he is changed. I watched him. He showed no feeling, even when you burst upon him suddenly, with the subject nearest his heart. "'It must be because his suit don't fae,' said Captain Bob. End of Chapter 29. Recording by Simon Evers. Chapter 30. In two or three days a message arrived, asking them to attend at the theatre on the coming evening, with the added request that they would dress in their gayest clothes, to do justice to the places taken. Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon they drove off, Bob having clothed himself in a splendid suit recently purchased as an attempt to bring himself nearer to Anne's style when they appeared in public together. As finished off by this dashing and really fashionable attire, he was a perfection of a bow in the doggays, pantaloons and boots of the newest make, arms and yards of muslin wound round his neck, forming a sort of asylum for the lower part of his face. Two fancy waistcoats and coat buttons like circular shaving glasses. The absurd extreme of female fashion, which was to wear muslin dresses in January, was at this time equal by that of the men, who wore clothes enough in August to melt them. Nobody would have guessed from Bob's presentation now that he had ever been aloft on a dark night in the Atlantic, or knew the hundred ingenuities that could be performed with ropes in and a marlin spike as well as his mother tongue. It was a day of days. Anne wore her celebrated celestial goo, police, her leghorn hat, and her muslin dress with the waist under the arms. The latter being decorated with excellent Hanaton lace, bought of the woman who traveled from that place to Overcomb in its neighborhood with a basket full of her own manufacture, and a cushion on which she worked by the wayside. One met the lovers at the inn outside the town, and after stabling the horse, they entered the town together, the trumpet major informing them that the watering place had never been so full before, that the court, the Prince of Wales, and everybody of consequence was there, and that an attic could scarcely be got for the money. The king had gone for a cruise in his yacht, and they would be in time to see him land. Then drums and fives were heard, and in a minute or two they saw a sergeant's standard advancing along the street with a firm countenance, fiery pole, and rigid staring eyes in front of his recruiting party. The sergeant's sword was drawn, and at intervals of two or three inches along its shining blade were impaled fluttering one-pound notes to express the lovers' bounty that was offered. He gave a stern, suppressed nod of friendship to our people and passed by. Next they came up to a wagon, bowered over with leaves and flowers so that the men inside could hardly be seen. Come to see the king, hip-hip-or-ah cried a voice within, and turning they saw through the leaves and nose and face of cripple straw. The wagon contained all Derriman's work people. Is your master here, said John? No trumpet major, sir, but young maester is coming to fetch us at nine o'clock in case we should be too blind to drive home. Oh, where is he now? Nevermind, said Anne impatiently. It was the trumpet major obediently moved on. By the time they reached the pier, it was six o'clock. The royal yacht was returning, a fact announced by the ships in the harbor firing a salute. The king came ashore with his hat in his hand and returned the salutations of the well-dressed crowd in his old indiscriminate fashion. While this cheering and waving of handkerchiefs was going on, Anne stood between the two brothers who protectingly joined their hands behind the hurac as if she were a delicate piece of statuary that a push might damage. Soon the king had passed and receiving the military salutes of the piquette joined the queen and princesses at Gloucester Lodge, the homely house of red brick in which he unauthenticiously resided. As there was yet some little time before the theater would open, they strayed upon the velvet sands and listened to the songs of the sailors, one of whom extemporized for the occasion. Portland Road, the king aboard. The king aboard. Portland Road, the king aboard. We wade and sailed from Portland Road. When they had looked on awhile at the combats at Singlestick, which were in progress hard by and seen the sum of five guineas handed over to the modest gentleman who had broken most heads, they returned to Gloucester Lodge once the king and other members of his family now reappeared and drove at a slow trot round to the theater in carriages drawn by the Hanoverian white horses that were so well known in the town at this date. When Anne and Bob entered the theater, they found that John had taken excellent places and concluded that he had got them for nothing through the influence of the lady of his choice. As a matter of fact, he had paid full prices for those two seats like any other outsider and even then had a difficulty in getting them, it being a king's night. When they were settled, he himself retired to an obscure part of the pit from which the stage was scarcely visible. We can see beautiful said Bob in an aristocratic voice as he took a delicate pitch of snuff and drew out the magnificent pocket handkerchief brought home from the east for such occasions, but I'm afraid poor John can't see it all. But we can see him, replied Anne, and noticed by his face which of them it is he is so charmed with. The light of that corner candle falls right upon his cheek. By this time, the king had appeared in his place which was overhung by a canopy of crimson satin fringed with gold. About 20 places were occupied by the royal family in suite and beyond them was a crowd of powdered and glittered percentages of fashion completely filling the center of the little building. Though the king so frequently patronized the local stage during these years that the crush was not inconvenient. The curtain rose and the play began. Tonight it was one of Coleman's who at this time enjoyed great popularity and Mr. Bannister supported the leading character. Anne with her hand privately clasped in Bob's and looking as if she did not know it, partly watched the piece and partly the face of the impressionable John who had so soon transferred his affections elsewhere. She had not long to wait. When a certain one of the subordinate ladies of the comedy entered on the stage, the trumpet major in his corner not only looked conscious but started and gazed with parted lips. This must be the one whispered Anne quickly. See, he is agitated. She turned to Bob but at the same moment his hand convulsively closed upon hers as he too strangely fixed his eyes upon the newly entered lady. What is it? Anne looked from one to the other without regarding the stage at all. Her answer came in the voice of the actress who now spoke for the first time. The accents were those of Miss Matilda Johnson. One thought rushed into both of their minds on the instant and Bob was the first to utter it. What, is she the woman of his choice after all? If so, it is a dreadful thing, Murmured Anne. But as maybe imagined, the unfortunate John was as much surprised by this re-encounter as the other two. Until this moment he had been in utter ignorance of the theatrical company and all that pertain to it. Moreover, much as he knew of Miss Johnson, he was not aware that she had ever been trained in her youth as an actress. And that after lapsing into straits and difficulties, for a couple of years she had been so fortunate as to again procure an engagement here. The trumpet major, though not prominently seated, had been seen by Matilda already who had observed still more plainly her role betrothed and Anne in the other part of the house. John was not concerned on his own account at being face-to-face with her, but at the extraordinary suspicion that this conjuncture must revive in the minds of his best beloved friends. After some moments of pain reflection, he tapped his knee. Gad, I won't explain. It shall go as it is, he said. Let them think her mind, better than that. Better than the truth, after all. Had personal prominence in the scene been at this moment proportioned to intentness of feeling, the whole audience, regal and otherwise, would have faded into an indistinct mist of background, leaving as the sole emergent and telling figures Bob and Anne at one point. The trumpet major on the left hand and Matilda at the opposite corner of the stage. But fortunately, the denlock of awkward suspense into which all four had fallen was terminated by an accident. A messenger entered the king's box with dispatches. There was an instant pause in the performance. The dispatch box being opened, the king read for a few moments with great interest. The eyes of the whole house, including those of Anne Garland, being anxiously fixed upon his face, for terrible events fell as unexpectedly as thunderbolts at this critical time of our history. The king at length beckoned to Lord, who was immediately behind him. The play was again stopped and the contents of the dispatch were publicly communicated to the audience. Sir Robert Calder, cruising off Finisterre, had come inside of Villanueva and made the signal for action, which, though checked by the weather, had resulted in the capture of two Spanish line of battleships and the retreat of Villanueva into Feral. The news was received with truly national feeling if noise might be taken as an index of paid tradition. Rule Britannia was called for and sung by the whole house. But the importance of the event was far from being recognized at this time. And Bob Loveday, as he sat there and heard it, had very little conception how it would bear upon his destiny. This parathetic excitement diverted for a few minutes the eyes of Bob and Anne from the trumpet manger. And when the play proceeded and they looked back to his corner, he was gone. He's just slipped around to talk to her behind the scenes, said Bob knowingly. Shall we go to and tease him for a sly dog? No, I would rather not. Shall we go home then? And, nonetheless, her presence is too much for you. Oh, not at all. We'll stay here. Oh, there she is again. They sat on and listened to Matilda's speeches, which she delivered with such delightful coolness that they soon began to considerably interest one of the party. Well, what a nerve the young woman has, he said at last in tones of admiration and gazing at Miss Johnson with all his might. After all, Jack's taste is not so bad. She's really deuced clever. Bob, I'll go home if you wish to, said Anne quickly. Oh no, let us see how she fleets herself off that bit of a scrape she's playing at now. Well, what a hand she is at it, to be sure. Anne said no more, but waited on, supremely uncomfortable and almost tearful. She began to feel that she did not like life particularly well. It was too complicated. She saw nothing of the scene and only longing to get away and to get Bob away with her. At last, the curtain fell on the final act and then began this farce of no song, no supper. Matilda did not appear in this piece and Anne again inquired if they should go home. This time Bob agreed and taking her under his care with redoubled affection to make up for the species of coma which had seized upon his heart for a time. He quietly accompanied her out of the house. When they emerged upon the Esplanade, the August moon was shining across the sea from the direction of St. Altam's head. Bob unconsciously loitered and turned towards the pier. Reaching the end of the promenade, they surveyed the quivering waters and silence for some time until a long dark line shot from behind the promontory of the Knoth and swept forward into the harbor. What boat is that, said Anne? It seems to be some frigate lying in the roads, said Bob carelessly as he brought Anne round with a gentle pressure of his arm and bent his steps toward the homeward end of the town. Meanwhile, Miss Johnson having finished her duties for that evening, rapidly changed her dress and went out likewise. The prominent position which Anne and Captain Bob had occupied side by side in the theater left her no alternative but to suppose that the situation was arranged by Bob as a species of defiance to herself and her heart, such as it was, became proportionately embittered against him. In spite of the rise in her fortune, Miss Johnson still remembered and always would remember her humiliating departure from Overcomb and it had been to her even a more grievous thing that Bob had acquiesced in his brother's ruling than that John had determined it. At the time of setting out, she was sustained by a firm faith that Bob would follow her and nullify his brother's scheme but though she waited, Bob never came. She passed along by the houses facing the sea and scanned the shore, the footway and the open road close to her which illuminated by the slanting moon to a great brightness, sparkled with minute facets of crystallized salts from the water sprinkled there during the day. The promenaders at the further edge appeared in the dark profiles and beyond them was the gray sea parted into two masses by the tapering braid of moonlight across the waves. Two forms crossed this line at a startling nearness to her. She marked them at once as Anne and Bob of Day. They were walking slowly and in the earnestness of their discourse were oblivious of the presence of any human being saved themselves. Matilda stood motionless till they had passed. How I love them, she said, treading the initial step of her walk onwards with a vehemence that walking did not demand. So do I, especially one, said a voice at her elbow and looked in her face which had been fully exposed to the moon. You, who are you? She asked. Don't you remember, man? We walked some way together towards Overgold early in the summer. Matilda looked more closely and perceived that the speaker was derriman and plain clothes. He continued, you are one of the ladies of the theater, I know. May I ask why you said in such a queer way that you love that couple? In a queer way? Well, as if you hated them. I don't mind your knowing that I have good reason to hate them. You do too, it seems. That man, said Festa Savagely, came to me one night about that very woman, insulted me before I could put myself on my guard and run away before I could come up with him and avenge myself. The woman tricks me at every turn. I want to part him. Then why don't you? There's a splendid opportunity. Do you see that soldier walking along? He's a marine. He looks into the gallery of the theater every night. And he's in connection with the press gang that came ashore just now from the frigate lying in the Portland roads. They are often here for men. Yes, our boatman gred him. Well, we have only to tell him that Love Day is a semen to be clear of him this very night. Done, said Festa, take my arm and come this way. They walked across to the footway. Fine night, Sergeant. It is, sir. Looking for hands, I suppose? It is not to be known, sir. We don't begin till half past 10. It is a pity you don't begin now. I could show you an excellent game. What, that little nest of fellows at the old rooms in Covro? I have just heard of them. No, come here. Festa's witness Johnson on his arm led the sergeant quickly on the parade. And by the time they reached the narrow as the lovers who walked, but slowly were visible in front of them. There's your man, he said. That buck in pantaloons and half boots, a looking like a squire? 12 months ago, he was mate of the brig pivot, but his father has made money and keeps him at home. Faith, now you tell of it, there's a hint of sea legs about him. What's the young bow's name? Don't tell, whispered Matilda, impulsively clutching, impulsively clutching Festa's arm. But Festa's had already said, Robert Love Day, son of the miller at Overcomb, you may find several likely fellows in that neighborhood. The Marine said that he would bear it in mind and they left him. I wish you had not told, said Matilda tearfully. She's the worst. Dash my eyes now, listen to that. While you chicken-hearted old stager, you was as well agreed as I. Come now, hasn't he used you badly? Matilda's acrimony returned. I was down to my luck or he wouldn't have had the chance, he said. Well then, let things be. End of chapter 30, recording by Mark Mann. Chapter 31 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 Mark Mann. The trumpet major by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 31. Midnight visitors. Miss Garland and Love Day walked leisurely to the inn and called for horse and gig. While the hustler was bringing it around, the landlord who knew Bob and his family well swucked in quietly in the passage. Is this then because you want to throw dust in the eyes of the black diamond chaps with an admiring glance at Bob's costume? The black diamond, said Bob, and Anne turned pale. She hoved in sight just after dark and at nine o'clock a boat having more than a dozen marines on board with cloaks on, rode in the harbor. Bob reflected, then there'll be a press tonight. Depend on it, he said. They won't know you, will they, Bob? Sent Anne anxiously. They certainly won't know him for a semen now, remarked the landlord, laughing, and again surveying Bob up and down. But if I was you two, I should drive home along straight and quiet and be very busy in the middle of all tomorrow, Mr. Love Day. They drove away and when they had got onward out of the town, Anne strained her eyes wistfully toward Portland. Its dark contour, lying like a whale on the sea, was just perceptible in the gloom as the background to half a dozen ships lights near at hand. They can't make you go. Now you are a gentleman tradesman, can they? She asked. If they want me, they can have me, dearest. I have often said I ought to volunteer and not care about me at all. It is just that that keeps me at home. I won't leave you if I can help it. It cannot make such a vast difference to the country whether one man goes or stays. But if you want to go, you had better and not mind us at all. Bob put a period to her speech by a mark of affection to which history affords many parallels in every age. She said no more about the Black Diamond, but whenever they ascended the hill, she turned her head to look at the lights in Portland roads and the gray expanse of intervening sea. Though Captain Bob had stated he did not wish to volunteer and would not leave her if he could not help it, the remark required some qualification. That Anne was charming and loving enough to chain him anywhere was true, but he had begun to find the millwork terribly irksome at times. Often during the last month, when standing among the rumbling cogs in his new miller suit, which ill became him, he had yawn, fought wistfully of the old P-jacket and the waters of the deep blue sea. His dread of displeasing his father by showing anything of this change of sentiment was great, yet he might have braved it just for knowing that his marriage with Anne, which he hoped might take place the next year, was dependent entirely upon his adherence to the mill business. Even were his father indifferent, Mrs. Love Day would never entrust her only daughter to the hands of a husband who would be away from home five, six of his time. But though, apart from Anne, he was not averse to seafaring in itself. To be smuggled tither by the machinery of a press gang was intolerable and the process of seizing, stunning, pinioning and carrying off unwilling hands was one which Bob as a man had always determined to hold out against to the utmost of his power. Hence as they went towards home, he frequently listened for sounds behind him, but hearing none, he assured his sweetheart that they were safe for that night at least. The mill was still going when they arrived. Though old Mr. Love Day was not to be seen, he had retired as soon as he had heard the horse hooves in the lane, leaving Bob to watch the grinding mill till three o'clock when the elder would rise and Bob would draw to bed a frequent arrangement between them since Bob had taken the place of grinder. Having reached the privacy of her own room, the hand through opened the window for she had not the slightest intention of going to bed just yet. The tale of the black diamond had disturbed her by a slow and serious process that was worse than sudden fright. Her window looked into the court before the house, now wrapped in the shadow of the trees and the hill and she leaned upon its sill listening intently. She could have heard any strange sound distinctly enough in one direction, but in the other all low noises were absorbed in the pattern of the mill and the rush of the water down the race. However, what she heard came from hither to sign inside and was intelligible in a moment as being the footsteps of men. She tried to think they were some late stragglers from Budmouth, allow us to know the tramp was too regular for that of villagers. She hastily turned, extinguished the candle and listened again. As they were on the main road, there was after all every probability that the party would pass the bridge which gave access to the mill court without turning in upon it or even noticing that such an entrance existed. In this again, she was disappointed. They crossed into the front without a pause. The pulsations of her heart became a turmoil now. For why would these men, if they were the press gang and strangers to the locality, have supposed that a sailor was to be found here? The younger of the two millers loved a being never seen now in any garb which could suggest that he was other than a miller pure like his father. One of the men spoke. I am not sure that we are in the right place, he said. This is a mill anyhow, said another. There's lots of out here. Then come this way a moment with your light. Two of the group went towards the car house on the opposite side of the yard and when they reached it, a dark lantern was opened. The rays being directed upon the front of the miller's wagon. Love day and sun over comb mill continued the man reading from the wagon. Son you see is lately painted in, that's our man. He moved to turn off the light, but before he had done so it flashed over the forms of the speakers and revealed a sergeant, a naval officer and a file of Marines and waited to see no more. When Bob stayed up to grind as he was going tonight, he often sat in his room instead of remaining all the time in the mill and this room was an isolated chamber over the bake house which could not be reached without going downstairs and ascending the step ladder that served for his staircase and descended in the dark, clambered up the ladder and saw that light strayed through the chink below the floor. His window faced towards the garden and hence the light could not as yet have been seen by the press gang. Bob, dear Bob, she said through the keyhole, put out your light and run out by the back door. Why, said Bob, leisurely knocking the ashes from the pipe he had been smoking. The press gang, they have come by God. Who can have blown up upon me? All right, dearest, I'm game. Anne, scarcely knowing what she did, descended the ladder and ran to the back door, hastily unbolting it to save Bob's time and gently opening it in readiness for him. She had no sooner done this than she felt hands laid upon her shoulder from without and a voice exclaiming, that's how he does it. Quite an obliging young man. Though the hands held her rather roughly and did not mind for herself and turning she cried desperately in tones intended to reach Bob's ears. They are at the back door, try the front. But inexperienced Miss Garland little knew the shrewd habits of the gentlemen she had to deal with who well used to the sort of pastime had already posted themselves every outlet from the premises. Bring the lantern shout of the fellow who held her. Why, it is a girl, a half also. Here is a way in he continued to his comrades hastening to the foot of the ladder which led to Bob's room. What do you want, said Bob quietly opening the door and showing himself still radiant in the full dress that he had worn with such effect at the theater royal which he had been about to change for his mill suit when Anne gave the alarm. This gentleman can't be the right one, observed the Marine, rather impressed by Bob's appearance. Yes, yes, that's the man's of the sergeant. Now take it quietly, my young cock-a-wax. You look as if you meant to and to his wise of ye. Where are you going to take me, said Bob? Only aboard the Black Diamond. If you choose to take the bounty and come voluntarily, you'll be allowed to go ashore whenever your ships import. If you don't and we've got to pinion ye, you will not have your liberty at all. As you must come willy-nilly, you'll do the first if you have any brains, whatever. Bob's temper began to rise. Don't you talk so large about your pinioning, my man, when I've settled. Now or never, young blowhard interrupted his informant. Come what jabber is this going on, said the lieutenant, stepping forward. Bring your man. One of the Marines set foot on a ladder, but at the same moment a shoe from Bob's hand hit the lantern with a well-aimed directness, knocking it clean out of the grasp of the man who held it. In spite of the darkness, they began to scramble up the ladder. Bob thereupon shut the door, which being but of slight construction, was as he knew only a momentary defense. But it gained him time enough to open the window, gather up his legs on the sill, and spring across into the apple tree, growing without. He alighted without much hurt, beyond a few scratches from the bows, a shower of falling apples testifying to the force of his leap. Here he is, shouted several below, who had seen Bob's figure flying like a ravens across the sky. There was a stillness for a moment in the tree. Then the fugitive made haste to climb out upon a low-hanging branch towards the garden, at which the men beneath all rushed in that direction to catch him as he dropped, saying, you may as well come down, old boy. It was a spry jump, and we give you credit for it. The latter movement of Love Day had been a mere faint. Partly hidden by the leaves, he glided back to the other part of the tree from whence it was easy to jump upon a thatched covered outhouse. This intention, they did not appear to suspect, which gave him the opportunity of sliding down the slope and entering the back door of the mill. Here's he, here's he, the man exclaimed, running back from the tree. By this time, they had obtained another light and pursued him closely along the back quarters of the mill. Bob had entered the lower room, seized hold of the chain by which the flower sacks were hoisted from story to story by connection with the mill wheel and pulled the rope that hung alongside for the purpose of throwing it into gear. The foremost pursuers arrived just in time to see Captain Bob's legs and shoe buckles vanishing through the trap door in the joist overhead, his person having been whirled up by the machinery like any bag of flour, and the trap falling to behind him. He's gone up by the hoist, said the sergeant, running up the ladder in the corner to the next floor and elevating the light just in time to see Bob's suspended figure ascending in the same way through the same sort of trap in the second floor. The second trap also fell together behind him and he was lost to view as before. It was more difficult to follow now. There was only a flimsy little ladder and the men ascended cautiously. When they stepped out upon the loft, it was empty. He must have let go here, said one of the Marines who knew more about mills than the others. If he had held fast a moment longer, he would have been dashed against that beam. They looked up, the hook by which Bob had held on had ascended to the roof and was winding down the cylinder. Nothing was visible elsewhere, but the boarded divisions like the stalls of a stable on each side of the stage they stood upon, these compartments being more or less heaped up with wheat and barley in the grain. Perhaps he's buried himself in the corn. The whole crew jumped into the corn dens and stirred about their yellow contents, but neither arm, leg, nor coattail was uncovered. They removed sacks, peaked among the rafters of the roof, but to no purpose. The lieutenant began to fume at the loss of time. What cursed fools to let the man go? Well, look here, what's this? He had opened the door by which sacks were taken in from wagons without and dangling from the cat-head projecting above it was the rope used in lifting them. There's the way he went down, the officer continued. The man's gone. Amidst mumblings and curses, the gang descended a pair of ladders and came into the open air, but Captain Bob was nowhere to be seen. When they reached the front door of the house, the miller was standing on the threshold, half dressed. Your son is a clever fellow, miller, said the lieutenant, but it would have been much better for him if he had come quiet. That's a matter of opinion, said Love Day. I have no doubt that he's in the house. He may be, and he may not. Do you know where he is? I do not, and if I did, I shouldn't tell. Naturally. I heard steps beating up the roads, said the sergeant. They turned from the door and leaving for the Marines to keep watch around the house. The remainder of the party watched into the lane as far as where the other road branched off. While they were pausing to decide which course to take, one of the soldiers held up the light. A black object was discernible upon the ground before them, and they found it to be a hat, the hat of Bob Love Day. We are on the track, cried the sergeant, deciding for this direction. They tore on rapidly, and the footsteps previously heard became audible again, increasing in clearness, which told that they gained upon the fugitive, who in another five minutes stopped in turn. The rays of the candle fell upon Anne. What do you want, she said, showing her frightened face. They made no reply but wheeled round and left her. She sank down on the bank to rest, having done all she could. It was she who had taken down Bob's hat from an ale and dropped it at the turning with the view of misleading them till he should have got clear off. End of chapter 31, recording by Mark Mann. Chapter 32 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 Mark Mann. The trumpet major by Thomas Hardy, chapter 32. Deliverance. But Anne Garland was too anxious to remain long away from the center of operations. When she got back, she found that the press gang were standing in the court discussing their next move. Waste no more time here, the lieutenant said. Two more villages to visit tonight and the nearest three miles off. There's nobody else in this place and we can't come back again. When they were moving away, one of the private marines who had kept his eye on Anne and noticed her distressed contrived to say in a whisper as he passed her, we're coming back again as soon as it begins to get light. That's only said to deceive E. Keep you young men out of the way. They went as they had come and a little household then met together Mrs. Love Day, having by this time dressed herself and come down. A long and anxious discussion followed. Somebody must have told upon the chat, Love Day remarked. How should they have found out about him else? Now he's been home from sea this 12 month. Anne then mentioned what the friendly marine had told her in fearing less Bob was in the house and would be discovered there when daylight came. They searched and called for him everywhere. What clothes has he got on, said the miller. His lovely new suit, said his wife. I warn it is quite spoiled. He's got no hat, said Anne. Well said Love Day. You two go and lie down and I'll buy it up. And as soon as he comes in, which he'll do most likely in the course of the night, I'll let him know that they are coming again. Anne and Mrs. Love Day went to their bedrooms and the miller entered the mill as if he were simply staying up to grind. But he continually left the floor shoot to go outside and walk around. Each time he could see no living being near the spot. Anne meanwhile had laid down, dressed upon her bed, the window still open, her ears intent upon the sound of footsteps and dreading the reappearance of daylight and the gang's return. Three or four times during the night, she descended to the mill to inquire of her stepfather if Bob had shown himself. But the answer was always in the negative. At length, the curtains of her bed began to reveal their pattern. The brass handles of the drawers gleamed forth and day dawned. While the light was yet no more than a suffusion of pallor, she arose, put on her hat and determined to explore the surrounding premises before the men arrived. Emerging into the wrought onliness of the daybreak, she went up on the bridge and looked up and down the road. It was as she had left it empty and the solitude was rendered yet more insistent by the silence of the mill wheel, which was now stopped. The miller having given up, expecting Bob and retired to bed about three o'clock. The footprints of the Marines still remained in the dust on the bridge, all the heel marks toward the house, showing that the party had not as yet returned. While she lingered, she heard a slight noise in the other direction and turning saw a woman approaching. The woman came up quickly and to her amazement and recognized Matilda. Her walk was convulsive, face pale, almost haggard and the cold light upon the morning invested it with all the ghostliness of death. She had plainly walked all the way from Budmouth for her shoes were covered with dust. Has the press game been here, she gasped? If not, they are coming. They have been. And got him? I am too late. No, they are coming back again. Why did you? I came to try to save him. Can we save him? Where is he? Anne looked the woman in the face and it was impossible to doubt that she was in earnest. I don't know, she answered. I am trying to find him before they come. Will you not let me help you? Cried the repentant Matilda. Without either objecting or assenting, Anne turned and led the way to the back part of the homestead. Matilda too had suffered that night. From the moment of parting with Festus Derriman, a sentiment of revulsion from the act to which she had been a party set in and increased, till at length it reached the intensity of remorse which she could not passively bear. She had risen before day and hastened to the toward, to the worst and of possible hinder consequences that she had been the first to set in train. After going hither and tither in the adjoining field Anne entered the garden. The walks were bathed in gray dew and as she passed observantly along them, it appeared as if they had been brushed by some foot at a much earlier hour. At the end of the garden, bushes of broom, laurel and ewe formed a constantly encroaching shrubbery that had come there almost by chance and was never trimmed. Behind these bushes was a garden seat and upon it lay Bob's sound asleep. The ends of his hair were clothed with damp and there was a foggy film upon the mirror-like buttons of his coat and upon the buckles of his shoes. His bunches of new gold seals was dimmed by the same insidious dampness. His shirt, frill and muslin neckloth were limp as seaweed. It was plain that he had been there a long time. Anne shook him but he did not awake, his breathing being slow and stir-tors. "'Bob, wake, till's your own end,' she said with innocent earnestness and then fearfully turning her head she saw the Matilda was close behind her. "'You needn't mind me,' said Matilda bitterly. "'I am on your side now, shake him again.' Anne shook him again but he slept on. Then she noticed that his forehead bore the mark of a heavy wound. "'I fancy I hear something,' said her companion, starting forward, endeavoring to wake Bob herself. He is stunned or drug'd,' she said. There is no rousing him. Anne raised her head and listened. On the direction of the eastern road came the sound of a steady tramp. "'They're coming back,' she said, clasping her hands. "'They will take him in as he is. He won't open his eyes. No, it is no use. Oh, what shall we do?' Matilda did not reply but running to the end of the scene on which Bob lay tried its weight in her arms. "'It is not too heavy,' she said. "'You take that end and I'll take this. We'll carry him away to some place of hiding.' Anne instantly seized the other end and they proceeded with their burden at a slow pace to the lower garden gate, which they reached as the tread of the press game resounded over the bridge that gave access to the mill court. Now hidden from view by the hedge and the trees of the garden. "'We will go down inside this field,' said Anne faintly. "'No,' said the other. "'They will see our foot tracks in the dew. We must go into the road. It is the very road they will come down when they leave the mill. It cannot be helped. It is neck or nothing with us now.' So they emerged upon the road and staggered along without speaking, occasionally resting for a moment to ease their arms then shaking him to arouse him and finding it useless, seizing the seat again. When they had gone about 200 yards, Matilda betrayed signs of exhaustion and she asked, "'Is there no shelter near?' "'When we get to that little field of corn,' said Anne. "'Surely there is some place near.' She pointed to a few scrubby bushes overhanging a little stream which passed under the road near this point. "'They are not thick enough,' said Anne. "'Let us take him under the bridge,' said Matilda. "'I can go no further.' "'Entering the opening by which cattle "'descended to drink, they waded into the weedy water, "'which here rose a few inches above their ankles. "'To ascend the stream, stoop under the arch, "'and reach the center of the roadway "'was the work of a few minutes. "'If they look under the arch, we are lost,' murmured Anne. "'There is no parapet to the bridge "'and they may pass over without heeding. "'They waded their heads almost in contact "'with the reeking arch "'and their feet encircled by the stream "'which was at its summer lowness now. "'For some minutes they could hear nothing "'but the babble of the water over their ankles "'and round the legs of the seed on which Bob slumbered. "'The sounds being reflected in a musical tinkle "'from the hollow sides of the arch. "'Anne's anxiety now was lest he should not "'continue sleeping till the search was over, "'but start up with his habitual imprudence "'and scorning such means of safety "'rush out into their arms. "'A quarter of an hour dragged by "'and then indications reached their ears "'that the reexamination of the mill had begun and ended. "'The well-known tramp drew near "'and reverberated through the ground over their heads, "'where its volume signified to the listeners "'that the party had been largely augmented "'by oppressed men since the night preceding. "'The gang passed the arch "'and the noise regularly diminished "'as if no man among them had thought "'of looking aside for a moment. "'Matilda broke the silence. "'I wonder if they have left to watch behind,' "'she said doubtfully. "'I will go and see, said Anne. "'Wait until I return.' "'No, I can do no more. "'When you come back, I shall be gone. "'I ask one thing of you. "'If all goes well with you and him, "'and he marries you, don't be alarmed. "'My plans lie elsewhere.' "'When you are his wife, tell him who helped "'to carry him away. "'But don't mention my name to the rest of your family, "'either now or at any time.' "'Anne regarded the speaker for a moment "'and promised, after which she waited out from the archway. "'Matilda stood looking at Bob for a moment "'as if preparing to go. "'Til moved by some impulse, she bent "'and lightly kissed him once. "'How can you, cried Anne reproachfully, "'when leaving the mouth of the arch "'she had bent back and seen the act?' "'Matilda flushed. "'You jealous baby,' she said scornfully. "'Anne hesitated for a moment "'that went out from the water "'and hastened towards the mill. "'She entered by the garden "'and, seeing no one, advanced and peeped in at the window. "'Her mother and Mr. Love Day were sitting within "'as usual. "'Are they all gone?' said Anne softly. "'Yes, they did not trouble us much "'beyond going into every room "'and searching about the garden where they saw steps. "'They have been lucky tonight. "'They have caught 15 or 20 men at places further on, "'so the loss of Bob was no hurt to their feelings. "'I wonder where in the world the poor fellow is. "'I will show you,' said Anne, "'and explaining in a few words what had happened. "'She was promptly followed by David "'and Love Day along the road. "'She lifted her dress and entered the arch "'with some anxiety on account of Matilda, "'but the actress was gone "'and Bob lay on the seat as she had left him. "'Bob was brought out and water thrown upon his face. "'But though he moved, he did not rouse himself "'until some time after he'd been born into the house. "'Here he opened his eyes "'and saw them standing around "'and gathered a little consciousness. "'You are all all right,' my boy said his father. "'What have happened to you? "'Where did you get that terrible blow?' "'Ah, I can mine now,' murmured Bob "'with a stupefied gaze around. "'I fell in slipping down the top cell. "'Halyard, the rope that is, was too short, "'and I fell upon my head. "'And then I went away. "'When I came back, I thought I wouldn't disturb you. "'So I lay down out there to sleep out the watch. "'But the pain in my head was so great "'that I couldn't get to sleep. "'So I picked some of the poppy heads in the border, "'which I once heard was a good thing "'for sending folks to sleep when they are in pain. "'So I mushed up all I could find "'and dropped off quite nicely. "'I wondered who had picked them,' said Molly. "'I noticed they were gone.' "'Why, you might never have woke again,' said Mrs. Love Day, "'holding upper hands. "'How is your head now?' "'I hardly know,' replied the young man, "'putting his hand to his forehead "'and beginning to doze again. "'Where be those fellows that bordered us? "'With this smooth water and fine breeze "'we ought to get away from them. "'Hull in the lower-board braces "'and bring her to the wind. "'You went home, dear Bob,' said Anne, "'bending over him, and the men are gone. "'Come along upstairs. "'The beast hardly awake now,' said his father, "'and Bob was assisted to bed.' End of chapter 32, recording by Markman. Chapter 33 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, the trumpet major by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 33, A Discovery Turns the Scale. In four and 20 hours, Bob had recovered. But though physically himself again, he was not at all sure of his position as a patriot. He had that practical knowledge of seamanship, of which the country stood much in need, and it was humiliating to find that impressments seemed to be necessary to teach him to use it for her advantage. Many neighboring young men, less fortunate than himself, had been pressed and taken, and their absence seemed to reproach to him. He went away by himself into the mill roof and surrounded by the corn heaps gave vent to self-condemnation. Certainly I am no man to lie here so long for the pleasure of sighting that young girl 40 times a day and letting her sight me, bless her eyes, tell I must needs, want to press gang to teach me what I forgot. And is it then all over with me as a British sailor? We'll see. And when he was thrown under the influence of Anne's eyes again, which were more tantalizing and beautiful than ever just now, so it seemed to him, his intention of offering his services to the government would wax weaker and he would put off his final decision till the next day. Anne saw these fluctuations of his mind between love and patriotism and being terrified by what she had heard of sea fights, used the utmost art of which she was capable to seduce him from his forming purpose. She came to him in the mill, wearing the very prettiest of her morning jackets, the one that only just passed the waist and was laced so tastefully around the collar and bosom. There she would appear in her new hat with a bouquet of primroses on one side and on the following Sunday, she walked before him in lemon colored boots so that her feet look like a pair of yellow hammers flitting it under her dress. But dress was the lease of the means she adopted for chaining him down. She talked more tenderly than ever, asked him to begin small undertakings in the garden on her account. She sang about the house that the place might seem cheerful when he came in. This singing for a purpose required great effort on her part, leaving her afterwards very sad. When Bob asked her what was the matter, she would say, nothing, only I am thinking how you will grieve your father and cross his purposes if you carry out your unkind notion of going to sea and forsaking your place in the mill. Yes, Bob would say uneasily, it will trouble him, I know. Being also quite unaware how it would trouble her, he would again postpone, and thus another week passed by. All this time, John had not come once to the mill. It appeared as if Miss Johnson absorbed all his time and thoughts. Bob was often seen chuckling over the circumstance. A sly rascal, he said, pretending on the day she came to be married that she was not good enough for me when it was only that he wanted her for himself, how he could have persuaded her to go away as beyond me to say. Anne could not contest this belief of her lovers and remained silent, but there had more than once occurred to her mind a doubt of its probability. Yet she had only abandoned her opinion that John had schemed from Matilda to embrace the opposite error, that finding he had wronged the young lady he had pitied and groaned to love her. And yet Jack, when he was a boy, was the simplest fellow alive, resumed Bob. By George though, I should have been hot against him for such a trick. If in losing her, I hadn't found a better. But she'll never come down to him in the world. She has high notions now. I'm afraid he's doomed to sigh in vain. Though Bob regretted this possibility, the feeling was not reciprocated by Anne. It was true that she knew nothing of Matilda's temporary treachery and that she disbelieved the story of her lack of virtue. But she did not like the woman. Perhaps it would not matter if he is doomed to sigh in vain, she said, but I owe him no ill will. I have profited by his doings incomprehensible as they are. And she bent her fair eyes on Bob and smiled. Bob looked dubious. He thinks he has affronted me. Now I have seen through him and that I shall be against meeting him. But of course I am not so touchy. I can stand a practical joke as can any man who has been afloat. I'll call and see him and tell him so. Before he started, Bobby thought him of something which would still further prove to the misapprehending John that he was entirely forgiven. He went to his room and took from his chest a packet containing a lock of Miss Johnson's hair, which she had given him during their brief acquaintance and which till now he had quite forgotten. When it starting, he wished Anne goodbye. It was accompanied by such a beaming face that she knew he was full of an idea and asked him what it might be that pleased him so. Why this, he said, smacking his breast pocket, a lock of hair that Matilda gave me and sank back with parted lips. I'm going to give it to Jack. He'll jump for joy to get it and it will show him how willing I am to give her up to him. Find peace as she is. Will you see her today, Bob? Anne asked with an uncertain smile. Oh no, unless it is by accident. On reaching the outskirts of the town he went straight to the barracks and was lucky enough to find John in his room at the left-hand corner of the quadrangle. John was glad to see him, but to Bob's surprise he showed no immediate contrition and thus afforded no room for the brotherly speech of forgiveness which Bob had been going to deliver. As the trumpet major did not open the subject, Bob felt it desirable to begin himself. I have brought you something that you will value, Jack, he said as they sat at the window overlooking the large square barrack yard. I have got no further use for it and you should have had it before if it had entered my head. Thank you, Bob, what is it, said John, looking absently in an awkward squad of young men who were drilling in the enclosure to see young woman's lack of hair. Ah, said John, quite recovering from his abstraction and slightly flushing. Could Bob and Anne have quarreled? Bob drew the paper from his pocket and opened it. Black, said John. Yes, black enough. Who's? Why Matilda's? Oh, Matilda's. Who's did you think then? Instead of replying, the trumpet major's face became as red as a sunset and he turned to the window to hide his confusion. Bob was silent and then he too looked into the court. At length he arose, walked to his brother and laid his hand upon his shoulder. Jack, he said in an altar voice, you're a good fellow, now I see it all. Oh no, that's nothing, said John hastily. You've been pretending that you care for this woman that I mightn't blame myself for heaving you out from the other, which is what I've done without knowing it. What does it matter? But it does matter. I've been making you unhappy all these weeks and weeks through my thoughtlessness. They seem to think at home, you know John, that you had grown not to care for her or I wouldn't have done it all for the world. You stick to her, Bob and never mind me. She belongs to you, she loves you. I have no claim upon her and she thinks nothing of me. She likes you, John, thoroughly well. So does everybody and if I hadn't come home putting my foot in it, that coming home of mine has been a regular blight upon the family. I ought never to have stayed. The sea is my home and why couldn't I buy there? The trumpet major drew Bob's discourse off the subject as soon as he could and Bob, after some unconsidered replies and remarks, seemed willing to avoid it for the present. He did not ask John to accompany him home as he had intended and on leaving the barracks, turned southward and entered the town to wander about till he could decide what to do. It was the 3rd of September, but the King's watering place still retained its summer aspect. The Royal Bathing Machine had been drawn out just as Bob reached Gloucester buildings and he waited a minute in the lack of other distraction to look on. Immediately that the King's machine had entered the water, a group of floored men with fiddles, violin cellos, a trombone and a drum came forward, packed themselves into another machine that was in waiting and were drawn out into the waves in the King's rear. All that was to be heard for a few minutes were the slow pulsations of the sea and then a deafening noise burst from the interior of the second machine with power enough to split the boards asunder. It was the condensed mass of musicians inside, striking up the strains of God save the King as his Majesty's head rose from the water. Bob took off his hat and waited till the end of the performance, which intended as a pleasant surprise to George III by the loyal burgers was possibly in the watery circumstances tolerated rather than desired by the dripping monarch. Love Day then passed on to the harbor where he remained a while looking at the busy scene of loading and unloading craft and swabbing the decks of yachts at the boats and barges rubbing against the quay wall and at the houses of the merchants, some ancient structures of solid stone. Others green shuttered with heavy wooden bow windows, which appeared as if about to drop into the harbor by their own weight. All these things he gazed upon and thought of one thing that he had caused great misery to his brother, John. The town clock struck and Bob retraced the steps till he again approached the Esplanade and Gloucester Lodge where the morning sun blazed in upon the house fronts and not a spot of shade seemed to be attainable. A Huzang attracted his attention and he observed that a number of people had gathered before the King's residence where a brown curicle had stopped out of which stepped a hail man in the prime of life wearing a blue uniform, gilt epaulets, cocked hat and sword, who crossed the pavement and went in. Bob went up and joined the group. "'What's going on?' he said. "'Captain Hardy,' replied a bystander. "'What of him?' "'Just gone in, waiting to see the King. "'But the captain is in the West Indies. "'No, the fleet has come home. "'They can't find the French anywhere. "'Will they go and look for them again?' asked Bob. "'Oh, yes, Nelson is determined to find him. "'As soon as he's refitted, he'll put to sea again. "'Ah, here's the King coming in.'" Bob was so interested in what he had just heard that he scarcely noticed the arrival of the King and a body of a tendon gentleman. He went on thinking of his new knowledge. Captain Hardy was cum. He was doubtless staying with his family at their small manor house at Palsum a few miles from Overcomb where he usually spent the intervals between his different cruises. Love Day returned to the mill without further delay and shortly explaining that John was very well and would come soon, went on to talk of the arrival of Nelson's captain. "'And has he come at last?' said the mother, "'throwing his thoughts years backward. "'Well, I can mine when he first left home "'to go on board the Helena as a midshipman. "'That's not much to remember. "'I can remember it too,' said Mrs. Love Day. "'Tis more than 20 years ago, anyhow. "'And more than that, I can mine when he was born. "'I was a lad serving my apprenticeship at the time. "'He had been in this house often when I was young. "'When he came home after his first voyage, "'he stayed about here a long time "'and went to look in at the mill whenever he went past. "'What will you be next, sir?' said mother to him one day "'as he stood with his back to the doorpost. "'A lieutenant, Dame Love Day,' says he. "'And what next?' says she. "'A commander. "'And next?' "'Next post, Captain. "'And then?' "'Then it will be almost time to die. "'I'd warrant that he'd mine it to this very day "'if you were to ask him.' "'Bob heard all this with a manner of preoccupation "'and soon retired to the mill. "'Thence he went to his room by the back passage "'and taking his old seafarin garment "'from a dark closet in the wall "'convade them to the loft at the top of the mill "'where he occupied the remaining spare moments of the day "'in brushing the mildew from their folds "'and hanging each article by the window to get aired. "'In the evening he returned to the loft "'and dressing himself in the old salt suit "'went out of the house unobserved by anybody "'and ascended the road towards Captain Hardy's native village "'in present temporary home. "'The shadeless downs were now brown "'with the droughts of the passing summer "'and few living things met his view, "'the natural rotundity of the elevation "'being only occasionally disturbed "'by the presence of a barrow, a thornbush, "'or a piece of drywall, "'which remained from some attempted enclosure. "'By the time that he reached the village, it was dark, "'and the larger stars had begun to shine "'when he walked up to the door of the old-fashioned house, "'which was the family residence of this branch "'of the southwest six Hardys. "'Will the captain allow me to weigh on him tonight? "'Inquired Love Day, explaining who and what he was. "'The servant went away for a few minutes "'and then told Bob that he might see the captain "'in the morning. "'If that's the case, I'll come again,' replied Bob, "'quite cheerful that failure was not absolute. "'He had left the door but a few steps "'when he was called back and asked if he had walked "'all the way from Overcomb Mill on purpose. "'Love Day replied modestly that he had done so. "'Then will you come in?' he followed the speaker "'into a small study or office "'and in a minute or two, Captain Hardy entered. "'The captain at this time was a bachelor of 35, "'rather stout in build with light eyes, "'bushy eyebrows, a square broad face, "'plenty of chin, and a mouth whose corners "'played between humor and grimness. "'He surveyed Love Day from top to toe. "'Ruppet Love Day, sir, son of the miller at Overcomb,' "'said Bob, making a low bow. "'Ah, I remember your father, Love Day,' "'the gallant seamen replied. "'Well, what do you want to say to me?' "'Seeing that Bob found it rather difficult to begin. "'He'd lent leisurely against the mantelpiece and went on. "'Is your father Will and Hardy? "'I have not seen him for many, many years.' "'Quite well, thanky. "'You used to have a brother in the army, I think. "'What was his name, John? "'A very fine fellow, if I recollect. "'Yes, Captain, he's there still. "'And you are in the merchant service? "'Late first mate of the Brig-Pewitt. "'How is it you're not on board a man of war?' "'Aye, sir, that's the thing I've come about,' said Bob, recovering confidence. "'I should have been, but his womankind has hampered me. "'I've waited and waited on at home because of a young woman, "'lady,' I might have said, "'for she sprung from a higher class of society than I. "'Her father was a landscape painter. "'Maybe you've heard of him, sir. "'The name is Garland.' "'He painted that view of our village here,' said Captain Hardy, "'looking towards a dark little picture "'in the corner of the room.' "'Bob looked and went on as if to the picture. "'Well, sir, I have found that. "'However, the press game came a week or two ago "'and didn't get hold of me. "'I didn't care to go board as a pressed man. "'There has been a severe impressment. "'It is, of course, a disagreeable necessity, "'but it can't be helped.' "'Since then, sir, something has happened "'that makes me wish they had found me, "'and I have come tonight to ask "'if I could enter on board your ship the victory.' "'The Captain shook his head severely and presently observed. "'I'm glad to find that you think "'of entering the service love day. "'Smart men are badly wanted, "'but it will not be in your power to choose your ship.' "'Well, well, sir, then I must take my chance elsewhere,' said Bob, his face indicating the disappointment he would not fully express. "'Twas only then I felt I would much rather serve "'under you than anybody else, "'my father and all of us being known to you, Captain Hardy, "'and our families belonging to the same parts.' "'Captain Hardy took Bob's altitude more carefully. "'Are you a good practical seaman?' he asked musingly. "'I, sir, I believe I am. "'Active, fond of skylocking? "'Well, I don't know about the last. "'I think I can say I am active enough. "'I could walk the yard arm if required, "'cross from mass to mass by the stays, "'and do what most fellows do, who call themselves spry.' "'The Captain then put some questions "'about the details and navigation, "'which love day having luckily been used to square rigs, "'answered satisfactorily. "'As to reefing top sails,' he added. "'If I don't do it like a flash of lightning, "'I can do it so that they will stand blowing weather.' "'The Pooitt was not a dull vessel, "'and when we were convoyed home for Lisbon, "'she could keep well in sight of the frigate "'scutting at a distance by putting out full sail. "'We had enough hands on board to reef top sails "'man-a-war fashion, which is a rare thing in these days, sir, "'now that able seamen are so scarce on trading craft. "'And I hear that men from square rigged vessels "'are like much the best in the Navy "'as being more ready for use. "'So that I shouldn't be altogether so raw,' "'said Bob earnestly. "'If I could enter on your sip, sir. "'Still, if I can't, I can't. "'I might ask for you, Love Day,' said the captain thoughtfully. "'And so you get there that way. "'In short, I think I may say I will ask for you.' "'So consider it settled. "'My thanks to you, sir,' said Love Day. "'You are aware that the victory is a smart ship "'and that cleanliness and order are of necessity, "'more strictly insisted upon there than in some others. "'Yes, I quite see it. "'Well, I hope you will do your duty as well "'on a line of battleship, "'as when you did, when made of the brig, "'for it is a duty that may be serious. "'Bob replied that it should be his one endeavor "'and receiving a few instructions "'for getting on board the guard ship "'and being conveyed to Portsmouth. "'He turned to go away. "'You'll have a stiff walk before you fetch "'overgo a mill this dark night, Love Day,' "'concluded the captain, peering out of the window. "'I'll send you in a glass of grog "'to help you on your way.' "'The captain then left Bob to himself. "'And when he had drunk the grog that was brought in, "'he started homework, with a heart not exactly light, "'but large with a patriotic tearfulness, "'which had not diminished when, "'after walking so fast in his excitement, "'as to be beaded with perspiration, "'he entered his father's door. "'They were all sitting up for him, "'and at his approach, anxiously raised their sleepy eyes "'for it was nearly eleven o'clock. "'There, I knew he'd not be much longer, "'cried Anne, jumping up and laughing in her relief. "'They had been thinking you were very strange "'in silent today, Bob. "'You were not, were you?' "'What's the matter, Bob,' said the miller, "'for Bob's countenance was sublime by his recent interview, "'like that of a priest just come from the penitralia "'of the temple.' "'He's in his mate's clothes, just as when he came home,' observed Mrs. Love Day. "'They all saw now that he had something to tell. "'I'm going away,' he said, when he had sat down. "'I'm going to enter on board a man of war, "'and perhaps it will be the victory.' "'Going,' said Anne faintly. "'Now don't you mind it, there's a deer.' "'He went on solemnly, taking her hand in his own. "'And you, Father, don't you begin to take it to heart.' "'The miller was looking grave. "'The press gang has been here, "'and though I showed them that I was a free man, "'I'm going to show everybody that I can do my duty.' "'Neither are the other three answered.' "'Anne and the miller having their eyes bent upon the ground, "'and the former trying to repress her tears. "'Now don't you grieve, either of you,' he continued. "'No, vex yourselves that this has happened. "'Please not to be angry with me, Father, "'for deserting you in the mill where you will want me, "'for I must go. "'For these three years, we in the rest of the country "'have been in fear of the enemy, trade has been hindered, "'poor folk made hungry, and many rich folk made poor. "'There must be a deliverance, "'and it must be done by sea. "'I have seen Captain Hardy, "'and I shall serve under him, if so be I can.' "'Captain Hardy? "'Yes, I have been to his house at Pozum, "'where he's staying with his sisters. "'Walk here and back. "'I wouldn't have missed it for fifty guineas. "'I hardly thought he would see me, but he did see me, "'and he hasn't forgot you.' "'Bob then opened his tail in order, "'relating graphically the conversation "'to which he had been a party, "'and they listened with breathless attention. "'Well, if you must go, you must,' said the miller "'with emotion. "'But I think it's somewhat hard that, of my two sons, "'neither of them can be got to stay "'and help me in my business as I get old. "'Don't trouble and vex about it,' said Mrs. Love Day, "'suitingly. "'They're both instruments in the hands of Providence, "'chosen to chastise that Corsican ogre "'and do what they can for the country in these trying years. "'That's just the shape of it, Mrs. Love Day,' said Bob. "'And he'll come back soon,' she continued, "'turning to Anne. "'And then he'll tell us all he has seen "'and the glory that he's won, "'and how he has helped to sweep that scourge "'Bonaparte off the earth. "'When be you going, Bob,' his father had inquired. "'Tomorrow, if I can, I shall call at the barracks "'and tell John as I go by when I get to Portsmouth. "'A burst of sobs and quick succession,' interrupted his words. "'They came from Anne, who till that moment "'had been sitting as before with her hand in that of Bob "'and apparently quite calm. "'Mrs. Love Day jumped up, "'but before she could say anything "'to soothe the agitated girl, she had calmed herself "'with the same singular suddenness "'that had marked her giving way. "'I don't mind Bob's going,' she said. "'I think he ought to go. "'Don't suppose, Bob, that I want you to stay.' "'After this she left the apartment "'and went into the little side room "'where she and her mother usually worked. "'In a few moments, Bob followed her. "'When he came back, he was in a very sad emotional mood. "'Anybody could see that there had been a parting "'of profound anguish to both. "'She is not coming back tonight,' he said. "'You will see her tomorrow before you go,' said her mother. "'I may or may not,' he replied. "'Father and Mrs. Love Day, do you go to bed now? "'I have got to look over my things and get ready, "'and it will take me some little time. "'If you should hear noises, you will know "'it is only myself moving about.' "'When Bob was left alone, he suddenly became brisk "'and set himself to overhaul his clothes "'and other possessions in a business-like manner. "'By the time his chest was packed, "'such things as he meant to leave at home "'folded into cupboards, and what was useless destroyed, "'it was past two o'clock. "'Then he went to bed so softly "'that only the creak of one week's stare "'revealed his passage upward. "'At the moment that he passed "'Anne's chamber door, her mother was bending over her "'as she lay in bed and saying to her, "'Won't you see him in the morning?' "'No, no,' said Anne. "'I would rather not see him. "'I have said that I may, but I shall not. "'I cannot see him again.' "'When the family got up next day, Bob had vanished. "'It was his way to disappear like this, "'to avoid affecting scenes at parting. "'By the time that they had sat down to a gloomy breakfast, "'Bob was in the boat of a budmouth waterman "'who pulled him alongside the guard ship in the roads, "'where he had laid a hole of the manrope, "'mounted and disappeared from external view. "'In the course of the day, the ship moved off, "'set her royals, and made sail for Portsmouth, "'with five hundred new hands for the service on board, "'consisting party of pressmen and partly of volunteers, "'among the latter being Robert Love Day.'"