Part 40 (1/2)
”G.o.d grant he may speak truly,” replied the young man, fervently; ”'tis shame enough on me that a brave man should risk his life for me, whilst I have to stand idly behind a cupboard door.”
The absence of definite news weighed heavily upon his spirits, and as the day wore on and neither John Stich nor Bathurst reappeared, his hopes very quickly began to give way to anxiety and then to despair.
Philip always had a touch of morbid self-a.n.a.lysis in his nature: unlike Jack Bathurst, he was ever ready to bend the neck before untoward fate, heaping self-accusation on self-reproach, and thus allowing his spirit to bow to circ.u.mstance, rather than to attempt to defy it.
And throughout the whole of this day he sat, moody and silent, with the ever-recurring thought hammering in his brain,-
”I ought not to have allowed a stranger to risk his life for me. I should have given myself up. 'Twas unworthy a soldier and a gentleman.”
By the time the shadows had lengthened on the Moor, and Jack o' Lantern covered with sweat had arrived riderless at the forge, Philip was formulating wild plans of going to Wirksworth and there surrendering himself to the local magistrate. He worked himself up into a fever of heroic self-sacrifice, and had just resolved only to wait until dawn to carry out his purpose, when John Stich appeared in the doorway of his smithy.
One look in the honest fellow's face told the young Earl of Stretton that most things in his world were amiss just now. A few eager questions, and as briefly as possible Stich told him exactly how matters stood: the letters stolen by Sir Humphrey Challoner, Bathurst's determination to re-capture them and the organized hunt proceeding this very night against him.
”Her ladys.h.i.+p and I both think, my lord, that this place is not safe for you just now,” added John, finally, ”and she begs you to come to her at Bra.s.sington as soon as you can. The road is safe enough,” added the smith, with a heavy sigh, ”no one'd notice us-they are all after the Captain, and G.o.d knows but perhaps they've got him by now.”
Philip could say nothing, for his miserable self-reproaches had broken his spirit of obstinacy. His boyish heart was overflowing with sympathy for the kindly smith. How gladly now would he have given his own life to save that of his gallant rescuer!
Obediently he prepared to accede to his sister's wishes. He knew what agony she must have endured when the letters were filched from her; he guessed that she would wish to have him near her, and in any case he wanted to be on the spot, hoping that yet he could offer his own life in exchange for the one which was being so n.o.bly risked for him.
Quite quietly, therefore, and without a murmur, he prepared to accompany Stich back to Bra.s.sington. At the Packhorse a serving-man's suit could easily be found for him, and he would be safe enough there, for a little while at least.
John Stich, having tended Jack o' Lantern with loving care, took a hasty farewell of his mother. While his friend's fate and that of his young lord hung in the balance he was not like to get back quietly to his work.
”The Captain may come back here for shelter mayhap,” he said, with a catch in his throat, as he kissed the old dame ”good-bye”; ”you'll tend to him, mother?”
”Aye! you may be sure o' that, John,” replied Mistress Stich, fervently.
”He'll need a rest mayhap, and some nice warm water; he's such a dandy, mother, you know.”
”Aye! aye!”
”And you might lay out his best clothes for him; he may need 'em mayhap.”
”Aye! I've got 'em laid in lavender for him. That nice sky-blue coat, think you, John?”
”Aye, and the fine 'broidered waistcoat, and the black silk bow for his hair, and the lace ruffles for his wrists, and...”
Stich broke down, a great lump had risen in his throat. Would the foppish young dandy, the handsome, light-hearted gallant, ever gladden the eyes of honest John again?
CHAPTER x.x.xI
”WE'VE GOTTEN BEAU BROCADE!”
The presence of Philip at the inn had done much to cheer Patience in her weary waiting. He and John Stich had reached the Packhorse some time before c.o.c.kcrow, and the landlord had been only too ready to do anything in reason to further the safety of the fugitive, so long as his own interests were not imperilled thereby.
This meant that he would give Philip a serving-man's suit and afford him shelter in the inn, for as long as the authorities did not suspect him of harbouring a rebel; beyond that he would not go.
Lady Patience had paid him lavishly for this help and his subsequent silence. It was understood that the fugitive would only make a brief halt at Bra.s.sington: some more secluded shelter would have to be found for him on the morrow.