XXVIII. ANNE DOES WONDERS
Anne fearfully surveyed her position. The upper windows of the cottagewere of flimsiest lead-work, and to keep him out would be hopeless. Shefelt that not a moment was to be lost in getting away. Runningdownstairs she opened the door, and then it occurred to her terrifiedunderstanding that there would be no chance of escaping him by flightafoot across such an extensive down, since he might mount his horse andeasily ride after her. The animal still remained tethered at the cornerof the garden; if she could release him and frighten him away beforeFestus returned, there would not be quite such odds against her. Sheaccordingly unhooked the horse by reaching over the bank, and then,pulling off her muslin neckerchief, flapped it in his eyes to startlehim. But the gallant steed did not move or flinch; she tried again, andhe seemed rather pleased than otherwise. At this moment she heard a cryfrom the cottage, and turning, beheld her adversary approaching round thecorner of the building.
'I thought I should tole out the mouse by that trick!' cried Festusexultingly. Instead of going for a ladder, he had simply hidden himselfat the back to tempt her down.
Poor Anne was now desperate. The bank on which she stood was level withthe horse's back, and the creature seemed quiet as a lamb. With adetermination of which she was capable in emergencies, she seized therein, flung herself upon the sheepskin, and held on by the mane. Theamazed charger lifted his head, sniffed, wrenched his ears hither andthither, and started off at a frightful speed across the down.
'O, my heart and limbs!' said Festus under his breath, as, thoroughlyalarmed, he gazed after her. 'She on Champion! She'll break her neck,and I shall be tried for manslaughter, and disgrace will be brought uponthe name of Derriman!'
Champion continued to go at a stretch-gallop, but he did nothing worse.Had he plunged or reared, Derriman's fears might have been verified, andAnne 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 scarcelyshaken in her precarious half-horizontal position, though she was awed tosee the grass, loose stones, and other objects pass her eyes like strokeswhenever she opened them, which was only just for a second at intervalsof half a minute; and to feel how wildly the stirrups swung, and thatwhat struck her knee was the bucket of the carbine, and that it was apistol-holster which hurt her arm.
They quickly cleared the down, and Anne became conscious that the courseof the horse was homeward. As soon as the ground began to rise towardsthe outer belt of upland which lay between her and the coast, Champion,now panting and reeking with moisture, lessened his speed in sheerweariness, and proceeded at a rapid jolting trot. Anne felt that shecould not hold on half so well; the gallop had been child's play comparedwith this. They were in a lane, ascending to a ridge, and she made upher mind for a fall. Over the ridge rose an animated spot, higher andhigher; it turned out to be the upper part of a man, and the man to be asoldier. Such was Anne's attitude that she only got an occasionalglimpse of him; and, though she feared that he might be a Frenchman, shefeared the horse more than the enemy, as she had feared Festus more thanthe horse. Anne had energy enough left to cry, 'Stop him; stop him!' asthe soldier drew near.
He, astonished at the sight of a military horse with a bundle of draperyacross 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 Latincross planted in the roadway. Champion drew near, swerved, and stoodstill almost suddenly, a check sufficient to send Anne slipping down hisflank to the ground. The timely friend stepped forward and helped her toher feet, when she saw that he was John Loveday.
'Are you hurt?' he said hastily, having turned quite pale at seeing herfall.
'O no; not a bit,' said Anne, gathering herself up with forced briskness,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 sweptround John Loveday and cantered off triumphantly in the direction ofOxwell, 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 notlanded at all?'
'Quite true; the alarm was groundless. I'll tell you all about it. Youlook very tired. You had better sit down a few minutes. Let us sit onthis bank.'
He helped her to the slope indicated, and continued, still as if histhoughts were more occupied with the mystery of her recent situation thanwith what he was saying: 'We arrived at Budmouth Barracks this morning,and are to lie there all the summer. I could not write to tell father wewere coming. It was not because of any rumour of the French, for we knewnothing of that till we met the people on the road, and the colonel saidin a moment the news was false. Buonaparte is not even at Boulogne justnow. I was anxious to know how you had borne the fright, so I hastenedto Overcombe at once, as soon as I could get out of barracks.'
Anne, who had not been at all responsive to his discourse, now swayedheavily against him, and looking quickly down he found that she hadsilently fainted. To support her in his arms was of course the impulseof a moment. There was no water to be had, and he could think of nothingelse but to hold her tenderly till she came round again. Certainly hedesired nothing more.
Again he asked himself, what did it all mean?
He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids, and at the row of lasheslying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed itself in singularperfection now that the customary pink had given place to a paleluminousness caught from the surrounding atmosphere. The dumpy ringletsabout her forehead and behind her poll, which were usually as tight assprings, had been partially uncoiled by the wildness of her ride, andhung in split locks over her forehead and neck. John, who, during thelong months of his absence, had lived only to meet her again, was in astate of ecstatic reverence, and bending down he gently kissed her.
Anne was just becoming conscious.
'O, Mr. Derriman, never, never!' she murmured, sweeping her face with herhand.
'I thought he was at the bottom of it,' said John.
Anne opened her eyes, and started back from him. 'What is it?' she saidwildly.
'You are ill, my dear Miss Garland,' replied John in trembling anxiety,and taking her hand.
'I am not ill, I am wearied out!' she said. 'Can't we walk on? How farare we from Overcombe?'
'About a mile. But tell me, somebody has been hurting you--frighteningyou. I know who it was; it was Derriman, and that was his horse. Now doyou tell me all.'
Anne reflected. 'Then if I tell you,' she said, 'will you discuss withme what I had better do, and not for the present let my mother and yourfather know? I don't want to alarm them, and I must not let my affairsinterrupt the business connexion between the mill and the hall that hasgone on for so many years.'
The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told the adventure. His browreddened as she went on, and when she had done she said, 'Now you areangry. Don't do anything dreadful, will you? Remember that this Festuswill most likely succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite of presentappearances, and if Bob succeeds at the mill there should be no enmitybetween them.'
'That's true. I won't tell Bob. Leave him to me. Where is Derrimannow? On his way home, I suppose. When I have seen you into the house Iwill deal with him--quite quietly, so that he shall say nothing aboutit.'
'Yes, appeal to him, do! Perhaps he will be better then.'
They walked on together, Loveday seeming to experience much quiet bliss.
'I came to look for you,' he said, 'because of that dear, sweet letteryou wrote.'
'Yes, I did write you a letter,' she admitted, with misgiving, nowbeginning to see her mistake. 'It was because I was sorry I had blamedyou.'
'I am al
most glad you did blame me,' said John cheerfully, 'since, if youhad not, the letter would not have come. I have read it fifty times aday.'
This put Anne into an unhappy mood, and they proceeded without muchfurther talk till the mill chimneys were visible below them. John thensaid 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?' saidJohn, smiling.
'Well, no,' she answered, with a sudden carelessness of tone. It wasindispensable that he should be undeceived, and to begin the process bytaking an affectedly light view of his personal risks was perhaps as gooda way to do it as any. Where friendliness was construed as love, anassumed indifference was the necessary expression for friendliness.
So she let him go; and, bidding him hasten back as soon as he could, wentdown the hill, while John's feet retraced the upland.
The trumpet-major spent the whole afternoon and evening in that long anddifficult search for Festus Derriman. Crossing the down at the end ofthe second hour he met Molly and Mrs. Loveday. The gig had beenrepaired, they had learnt the groundlessness of the alarm, and they wouldhave been proceeding happily enough but for their anxiety about Anne.John told them shortly that she had got a lift home, and proceeded on hisway.
The worthy object of his search had in the meantime been ploddinghomeward on foot, sulky at the loss of his charger, encumbered with hissword, belts, high boots, and uniform, and in his own discomfiturecareless 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 hardtrackway. Ahead of him he saw an old man sitting down, with eyes fixedon the dust of the road, as if resting and meditating at one and the sametime. Being pretty sure that he recognized his uncle in that venerablefigure, Festus came forward stealthily, till he was immediately above theold man's back. The latter was clothed in faded nankeen breeches,speckled stockings, a drab hat, and a coat which had once been lightblue, but from exposure as a scarecrow had assumed the complexion andfibre of a dried pudding-cloth. The farmer was, in fact, returning tothe hall, which he had left in the morning some time later than hisnephew, to seek an asylum in a hollow tree about two miles off. The treewas so situated as to command a view of the building, and Uncle Benjy hadmanaged to clamber up inside this natural fortification high enough towatch his residence through a hole in the bark, till, gathering from thewords of occasional passers-by that the alarm was at least premature, hehad ventured into daylight again.
He was now engaged in abstractedly tracing a diagram in the dust with hiswalking-stick, and muttered words to himself aloud. Presently he aroseand went on his way without turning round. Festus was curious enough todescend and look at the marks. They represented an oblong, with two semi-diagonals, and a little square in the middle. Upon the diagonals werethe figures 20 and 17, and on each side of the parallelogram stood aletter 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 singingthose very numbers earlier in the morning. Being able to make nothing ofit, he lengthened his strides, and treading on tiptoe overtook hisrelative, saluting him by scratching his back like a hen. The startledold farmer danced round like a top, and gasping, said, as he perceivedhis nephew, 'What, Festy! not thrown from your horse and killed, then,after all!'
'No, nunc. What made ye think that?'
'Champion passed me about an hour ago, when I was in hiding--poor timidsoul of me, for I had nothing to lose by the French coming--and he lookedawful with the stirrups dangling and the saddle empty. 'Tis a gloomysight, Festy, to see a horse cantering without a rider, and I thought youhad been--feared you had been thrown off and killed as dead as a nit.'
'Bless your dear old heart for being so anxious! And what pretty picturewere you drawing just now with your walking-stick!'
'O, that! That is only a way I have of amusing myself. It showed howthe French might have advanced to the attack, you know. Such triflesfill the head of a weak old man like me.'
'Or the place where something is hid away--money, for instance?'
'Festy,' said the farmer reproachfully, 'you always know I use the oldglove in the bedroom cupboard for any guinea or two I possess.'
'Of course I do,' said Festus 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 inand treat him, Festus entered alone. He was dusty, draggled, and weary,and he remained at the tavern long. The trumpet-major, in the meantime,having searched the roads in vain, heard in the course of the evening ofthe yeoman's arrival at this place, and that he would probably be foundthere still. He accordingly approached the door, reaching it just as thedusk of evening changed to darkness.
There was no light in the passage, but John pushed on at hazard, inquiredfor Derriman, and was told that he would be found in the back parlouralone. When Loveday first entered the apartment he was unable to seeanything, but following the guidance of a vigorous snoring, he came tothe settle, upon which Festus lay asleep, his position being faintlysignified by the shine of his buttons and other parts of his uniform.John laid his hand upon the reclining figure and shook him, and bydegrees Derriman stopped his snore and sat up.
'Who are you?' he said, in the accents of a man who has been drinkinghard. 'Is it you, dear Anne? Let me kiss you; yes, I will.'
'Shut your mouth, you pitiful blockhead; I'll teach you genteeler mannersthan to persecute a young woman in that way!' and taking Festus by theear, he gave it a good pull. Festus broke out with an oath, and struck avague blow in the air with his fist; whereupon the trumpet-major dealthim a box on the right ear, and a similar one on the left to artisticallybalance the first. Festus jumped up and used his fists wildly, butwithout any definite result.
'Want to fight, do ye, eh?' said John. 'Nonsense! you can't fight, yougreat baby, and never could. You are only fit to be smacked!' and hedealt Festus a specimen of the same on the cheek with the palm of hishand.
'No, sir, no! O, you are Loveday, the young man she's going to bemarried 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 wecan't finish this to-night. Pistols or swords, whichever you like, myboy. 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 itis for, eh?'
'No, Mr. Loveday, sir--yes, I mean, I do.'
'What is it for, then? I shall keep smacking until you tell me. Gad! ifyou weren't drunk, I'd half kill you here to-night.'
'It is because I served her badly. Damned if I care! I'll do it again,and be hanged to 'ee! Where's my horse Champion? Tell me that,' and hehit at the trumpet-major.
John parried this attack, and taking him firmly by the collar, pushed himdown into the seat, saying, 'Here I hold 'ee till you beg pardon for yourdoings to-day. Do you want any more of it, do you?' And he shook theyeoman to a sort of jelly.
'I do beg pardon--no, I don't. I say this, that you shall not take suchliberties with old Squire Derriman's nephew, you dirty miller's son, youflour-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 intothe corner of the settle, Loveday went out of the house, feelingconsiderable satisfaction at having got himself into the beginning of asnice a quarrel about Anne Garland as the most jealous lover could desire.
But of one feature in this curious adventure he had not the leastnotion--that Festus Derriman, misled by the darkness, the fumes of hispotations, and the constant sight of Anne and Bob together, never oncesupposed his assailant to be any other man than Bob, believing thetrumpet-major miles
away.
There was a moon during the early part of John's walk home, but when hehad arrived within a mile of Overcombe the sky clouded over, and rainsuddenly began to fall with some violence. Near him was a wooden granaryon tall stone staddles, and perceiving that the rain was only athunderstorm which would soon pass away, he ascended the steps andentered the doorway, where he stood watching the half-obscured moonthrough the streaming rain. Presently, to his surprise, he beheld afemale figure running forward with great rapidity, not towards thegranary for shelter, but towards open ground. What could she be runningfor in that direction? The answer came in the appearance of his brotherBob from that quarter, seated on the back of his father's heavy horse. Assoon as the woman met him, Bob dismounted and caught her in his arms.They stood locked together, the rain beating into their unconsciousforms, and the horse looking on.
The trumpet-major fell back inside the granary, and threw himself on aheap of empty sacks which lay in the corner: he had recognized the womanto be Anne. Here he reclined in a stupor till he was aroused by thesound of voices under him, the voices of Anne and his brother, who,having at last discovered that they were getting wet, had taken shelterunder the granary floor.
'I have been home,' said she. 'Mother and Molly have both got back longago. We were all anxious about you, and I came out to look for you. O,Bob, I am so glad to see you again!'
John might have heard every word of the conversation, which was continuedin the same strain for a long time; but he stopped his ears, and wouldnot. Still they remained, and still was he determined that they shouldnot see him. With the conserved hope of more than half a year dashedaway in a moment, he could yet feel that the cruelty of a protest wouldbe even greater than its inutility. It was absolutely by his owncontrivance 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 asthey strolled, aqua-tinted by the weak moon and mist. Bob had thrust oneof his arms through the rein of the horse, and the other was round Anne'swaist. When they were lost behind the declivity the trumpet-major cameout, and walked homeward even more slowly than they. As he went on, hisface put off its complexion of despair for one of serene resolve. Forthe first time in his dealings with friends he entered upon a course ofcounterfeiting, set his features to conceal his thought, and instructedhis 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 wildparsley with his regimental switch as he had used to do when soldieringwas new to him, and life in general a charming experience.
Thus cloaking his sickly thought, he descended to the mill as the othershad done before him, occasionally looking down upon the wet road tonotice 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 frontdoor that his spurs rang through the court.
They had all reached home, but before any of them could speak he criedgaily, 'Ah, Bob, I have been thinking of you! By God, how are you, myboy? No French cut-throats after all, you see. Here we are, well andhappy 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 thefierceness of uniform. 'Well, now we'll ha'e a drop o' drink.'
'There's none,' said David, coming forward with a drawn face.
'What!' said the miller.
'Afore I went to church for a pike to defend my native country fromBoney, I pulled out the spigots of all the barrels, maister; for, thinksI--damn him!--since we can't drink it ourselves, he shan't have it, nornone of his men.'
'But you shouldn't have done it till you was sure he'd come!' said themiller, aghast.
'Chok' it all, I was sure!' said David. 'I'd sooner see churches fallthan good drink wasted; but how was I to know better?'
'Well, well; what with one thing and another this day will cost me apretty penny!' said Loveday, bustling off to the cellar, which he foundto be several inches deep in stagnant liquor. 'John, how can I welcome'ee?' he continued hopelessly, on his return to the room. 'Only go andsee what he's done!'
'I've ladled up a drap wi' a spoon, trumpet-major,' said David. ''Tisn'tbad drinking, though it do taste a little of the floor, that's true.'
John said that he did not require anything at all; and then they all satdown to supper, and were very temperately gay with a drop of mild elder-wine which Mrs. Loveday found in the bottom of a jar. The trumpet-major,adhering to the part he meant to play, gave humorous accounts of hisadventures since he had last sat there. He told them that the season wasto be a very lively one--that the royal family was coming, as usual, andmany other interesting things; so that when he left them to return tobarracks few would have supposed the British army to contain a lighter-hearted man.
Anne was the only one who doubted the reality of this behaviour. Whenshe had gone up to her bedroom she stood for some time looking at thewick of the candle as if it were a painful object, the expression of herface being shaped by the conviction that John's afternoon words when hehelped her out of the way of Champion were not in accordance with hiswords to-night, and that the dimly-realized kiss during her faintness wasno imaginary one. But in the blissful circumstances of having Bob athand again she took optimist views, and persuaded herself that John wouldsoon begin to see her in the light of a sister.