XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD
In the afternoon they drove off, John Loveday being nowhere visible. Allalong the road they passed and were overtaken by vehicles of alldescriptions going in the same direction; among them the extraordinarymachines which had been invented for the conveyance of troops to anypoint of the coast on which the enemy should land; they consisted of fourboards placed across a sort of trolly, thirty men of the volunteercompanies riding on each.
The popular Georgian watering-place was in a paroxysm of gaiety. Thetown was quite overpowered by the country round, much to the town'sdelight and profit. The fear of invasion was such that six frigates layin the roads to ensure the safety of the royal family, and from theregiments of horse and foot quartered at the barracks, or encamped on thehills round about, a picket of a thousand men mounted guard every day infront of Gloucester Lodge, where the King resided. When Anne and herattendant reached this point, which they did on foot, stabling the horseon the outskirts of the town, it was about six o'clock. The King was onthe Esplanade, and the soldiers were just marching past to mount guard.The band formed in front of the King, and all the officers saluted asthey went by.
Anne now felt herself close to and looking into the stream of recordedhistory, within whose banks the littlest things are great, and outsidewhich she and the general bulk of the human race were content to live onas an unreckoned, unheeded superfluity.
When she turned from her interested gaze at this scene, there stood JohnLoveday. She had had a presentiment that he would turn up in thismysterious way. It was marvellous that he could have got there soquickly; but there he was--not looking at the King, or at the crowd, butwaiting for the turn of her head.
'Trumpet-major, I didn't see you,' said Anne demurely. 'How is it thatyour regiment is not marching past?'
'We take it by turns, and it is not our turn,' said Loveday.
She wanted to know then if they were afraid that the King would becarried off by the First Consul. Yes, Loveday told her; and his Majestywas rather venturesome. A day or two before he had gone so far to seathat he was nearly caught by some of the enemy's cruisers. 'He isanxious to fight Boney single-handed,' he said.
'What a good, brave King!' said Anne.
Loveday seemed anxious to come to more personal matters. 'Will you letme take you round to the other side, where you can see better?' he asked.'The Queen and the princesses are at the window.'
Anne passively assented. 'David, wait here for me,' she said; 'I shallbe back again in a few minutes.'
The trumpet-major then led her off triumphantly, and they skirted thecrowd and came round on the side towards the sands. He told hereverything he could think of, military and civil, to which Anne returnedpretty syllables and parenthetic words about the colour of the sea andthe curl of the foam--a way of speaking that moved the soldier's hearteven more than long and direct speeches would have done.
'And that other thing I asked you?' he ventured to say at last.
'We won't speak of it.'
'You don't dislike me?'
'O no!' she said, gazing at the bathing-machines, digging children, andother common objects of the seashore, as if her interest lay there ratherthan with him.
'But I am not worthy of the daughter of a genteel professional man--that'swhat you mean?'
'There's something more than worthiness required in such cases, youknow,' she said, still without calling her mind away from surroundingscenes. 'Ah, there are the Queen and princesses at the window!'
'Something more?'
'Well, since you will make me speak, I mean the woman ought to love theman.'
The trumpet-major seemed to be less concerned about this than about hersupposed superiority. 'If it were all right on that point, would youmind the other?' he asked, like a man who knows he is too persistent, yetwho cannot be still.
'How can I say, when I don't know? What a pretty chip hat the elderprincess wears?'
Her companion's general disappointment extended over him almost to hislace and his plume. 'Your mother said, you know, Miss Anne--'
'Yes, that's the worst of it,' she said. 'Let us go back to David; Ihave seen all I want to see, Mr. Loveday.'
The mass of the people had by this time noticed the Queen and princessesat the window, and raised a cheer, to which the ladies waved theirembroidered handkerchiefs. Anne went back towards the pavement with hertrumpet-major, whom all the girls envied her, so fine-looking a soldierwas he; and not only for that, but because it was well known that he wasnot a soldier from necessity, but from patriotism, his father havingrepeatedly offered to set him up in business: his artistic taste inpreferring a horse and uniform to a dirty, rumbling flour-mill wasadmired by all. She, too, had a very nice appearance in her best clothesas she walked along--the sarcenet hat, muslin shawl, and tight-sleevedgown being of the newest Overcombe fashion, that was only about a yearold in the adjoining town, and in London three or four. She could not beharsh to Loveday and dismiss him curtly, for his musical pursuits hadrefined him, educated him, and made him quite poetical. To-day he hadbeen particularly well-mannered and tender; so, instead of answering,'Never speak to me like this again,' she merely put him off with a 'Letus go back to David.'
When they reached the place where they had left him David was gone.
Anne was now positively vexed. 'What _shall_ I do?' she said.
'He's only gone to drink the King's health,' said Loveday, who hadprivately given David the money for performing that operation. 'Dependupon it, he'll be back soon.'
'Will you go and find him?' said she, with intense propriety in her looksand tone.
'I will,' said Loveday reluctantly; and he went.
Anne stood still. She could now escape her gallant friend, for, althoughthe distance was long, it was not impossible to walk home. On the otherhand, Loveday was a good and sincere fellow, for whom she had almost abrotherly feeling, and she shrank from such a trick. While she stood andmused, scarcely heeding the music, the marching of the soldiers, theKing, the dukes, the brilliant staff, the attendants, and the happygroups of people, her eyes fell upon the ground.
Before her she saw a flower lying--a crimson sweet-william--fresh anduninjured. An instinctive wish to save it from destruction by thepassengers' feet led her to pick it up; and then, moved by a sudden self-consciousness, she looked around. She was standing before an inn, andfrom an upper window Festus Derriman was leaning with two or threekindred spirits of his cut and kind. He nodded eagerly, and signified toher that he had thrown the flower.
What should she do? To throw it away would seem stupid, and to keep itwas awkward. She held it between her finger and thumb, twirled it roundon its axis and twirled it back again, regarding and yet not examiningit. Just then she saw the trumpet-major coming back.
'I can't find David anywhere,' he said; and his heart was not sorry as hesaid it.
Anne was still holding out the sweet-william as if about to drop it, and,scarcely knowing what she did under the distressing sense that she waswatched, she offered the flower to Loveday.
His face brightened with pleasure as he took it. 'Thank you, indeed,' hesaid.
Then Anne saw what a misleading blunder she had committed towards Lovedayin playing to the yeoman. Perhaps she had sown the seeds of a quarrel.
'It was not my sweet-william,' she said hastily; 'it was lying on theground. I don't mean anything by giving it to you.'
'But I'll keep it all the same,' said the innocent soldier, as if he knewa good deal about womankind; and he put the flower carefully inside hisjacket, between his white waistcoat and his heart.
Festus, seeing this, enlarged himself wrathfully, got hot in the face,rose to his feet, and glared down upon them like a turnip-lantern.
'Let us go away,' said Anne timorously.
'I'll see you safe to your own door, depend upon me,' said Loveday.'But--I had near forgot--there's father's letter, that he's so anxiouslywaiting for! Will you come with me t
o the post-office? Then I'll takeyou straight home.'
Anne, expecting Festus to pounce down every minute, was glad to be offanywhere; so she accepted the suggestion, and they went along the paradetogether.
Loveday set this down as a proof of Anne's relenting. Thus in joyfulspirits he entered the office, paid the postage, and received the letter.
'It is from Bob, after all!' he said. 'Father told me to read it atonce, in case of bad news. Ask your pardon for keeping you a moment.' Hebroke the seal and read, Anne standing silently by.
'He is coming home _to be married_,' said the trumpet-major, withoutlooking up.
Anne did not answer. The blood swept impetuously up her face at hiswords, and as suddenly went away again, leaving her rather paler thanbefore. She disguised her agitation and then overcame it, Lovedayobserving nothing of this emotional performance.
'As far as I can understand he will be here Saturday,' he said.
'Indeed!' said Anne quite calmly. 'And who is he going to marry?'
'That I don't know,' said John, turning the letter about. 'The woman isa stranger.'
At this moment the miller entered the office hastily.
'Come, John,' he cried, 'I have been waiting and waiting for that thereletter till I was nigh crazy!'
John briefly explained the news, and when his father had recovered fromhis astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the exact line where hisforehead joined his hair, he walked with Anne up the street, leaving Johnto return alone. The miller was so absorbed in his mental perspective ofBob's marriage, that he saw nothing of the gaieties they passed through;and Anne seemed also so much impressed by the same intelligence, that shecrossed before the inn occupied by Festus without showing a recollectionof his presence there.