Part 20 (2/2)

Bearing away too far to the right, as men are apt to do in the darkness, he missed the cross-ways by Ashen-cross, whence his true line ran straight through Pelynt; and after an hour or so of blind-man's-buff in a maze of cornfields, the gates of which seemed to hide in the unlikeliest corners, emerged upon a fairly good high road, which at first deceived him by running west-by-north and then appeared to change its mind and, receding through west, took a determined southerly curve back towards the coast. In short, Captain Arbuthnot had entirely lost his bearings.

Deciding once more to trust the stars, he left the high road, struck due north across country again and by and by found himself entangled in a valley bottom beside the upper waters of the same stream which Gunner Sobey had forded two hours before and some miles below.

The ground hereabouts was marshy, and above the swamp an almost impenetrable furze-brake clothed both sides of the valley.

The Dragoons fought their way through, however, and were rewarded, a little before dawn, by reaching a good turf slope and, at the head of it, a lane which led them to the small village of Lanreath.

The inhabitants of Lanreath, aroused from their beds by the tramp of hoofs and with difficulty persuaded that their visitors were not the French, at length directed Captain Arbuthnot to the village inn, the ”Punchbowl,” where he wisely determined to bait and rest his horses, which by this time were nearly foundered. Being heavy brutes, they had fared ill in the mora.s.s, and the most of them were plastered with mud to their girths.

The troopers, having refreshed themselves with beer, flung themselves down to rest, some on the settles of the inn-kitchen, others on the benches about the door, and others again in the churchyard across the road, where they snored until high day under the curious gaze of the villagers.

So they slept for two hours and more; and then, being summoned by trumpet, mounted and took the road again, the most of them yet heavy with slumber and not a few yawning in their saddles and only kept from nodding off by the discomfort of their tall leathern stocks.

In this condition they had proceeded for maybe two miles, when from a by-lane on their left a horseman dashed out upon the road ahead, reined up, and, wheeling his horse in face of them, stood high in his stirrups and waved an arm towards the lane by which he had come.

It took Captain Arbuthnot some seconds to recognise this apparition for Mr. Smellie. But it was indeed that unfortunate man.

He had lost both hat and wig; his coat he had discarded, no doubt to be rid of its noisome odour: and altogether he cut the strangest figure as he gesticulated there in the early suns.h.i.+ne. But the man was in earnest--so much in earnest that he either failed to note, or noting, disregarded, the wrathful frown with which Captain Arbuthnot, having halted his troop, rode forward at a walk to meet him.

”Back, Captain, back!” shouted Mr. Smellie, pointing down the lane.

”I beg your pardon, sir”--the Captain reined up and addressed him with cold, incisive politeness--”but may I suggest that you have played the fool with us sufficiently for one night, and that my men's tempers are short?”

”Havers!” exclaimed the indomitable Smellie, rising yet higher in his stirrups and lifting a hand for silence. ”I ask ye to listen to the racket down yonder. The drum, now!” (Sure enough Captain Arbuthnot, p.r.i.c.king his ears, heard the tunding of a drum far away in the woods to the southward.) ”Man, they've diddled us! While they put that trick on us at Talland Cove, their haill womankind was rafting the true cargo up the river. I've ridden down, I tell you, and the clue of their game I hold in my two hands here from start to finish.

The brandy's yonder in Sir Felix's woods, and the men are lying around it fou-drunk as the Israelites among the pots. Man, if ye would turn to-night's laugh, turn your troop and follow, and ye shall cull them like gowans!”

”It is throwing the haft after the hatchet,” hesitated Captain Arbuthnot, impressed against his will by the earnestness of the appeal. ”You have misled us once to-night, I must remind you; and I give you fair warning that my troopers will not bear fooling twice.”

With all his faults the Riding Officer did not lack courage.

Disdaining the threat, he waved his hand to the Dragoons to follow and put his horse at a canter down the leafy lane.

It is recorded in the High History of the Grail, of Sir Lohot, son of King Arthur, that he had a marvellous weakness; which was, that no sooner had he slain a man than he fell across his body. So it happened this night to the valiant men of Troy.

The Dragoons, emerging from the woods of Pentethy into close view of the house and its terrace and slope that falls from the terrace to the river, found themselves intruders upon the queerest of domestic dramas.

On the terrace among the leaden G.o.ds danced a little man, wigless, in an orange-coloured dressing-gown and a fury of choler. At the head of the green slope immediately under the bal.u.s.trade Major Hymen, surrounded by a moderately sober staff, faced the storm in an att.i.tude at once dignified and patient.

”An idea has occurred to me,” he put in at length with stately deliberation as Sir Felix paused panting for fresh words of opprobrium. ”It is, sir, that overlooking the few minutes by which our salvoes were--er--antedated, you allow us to acclaim your latest-born as Honorary-Colonel of our corps.”

”But,” almost shrieked Sir Felix, ”d.a.m.n your eyes, it's _twins_--and both _girls_!”

The Major winced. A rosy flush of indignation mantled his cheeks, and only his habitual respect for the landed gentry (whom he was accustomed to call the backbone of England) checked him on the verge of a severe retort. As it was, he answered with fine suavity.

”There is no true patriot, Sir Felix, but desires an accelerated increase in our population just now, whether male or female. I trust your good lady's zeal may be rewarded by a speedy recovery.”

Sir Felix fairly capered. ”Accelerated! Acc--” he began, and, choking over the word, turned and caught sight of the Dragoons as they emerged from the woods, the sunlight flas.h.i.+ng on their cuira.s.ses.

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