The Splendid Spur Part 31

Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had just disappeared, went on with a nod---

"That's so: old Sir G'arge Chudleigh's troop o' horse sent off to Bodmin to seize the High Sheriff and his _posse_ there. Two hour agone I spied 'em, and ha' been ever since playin' spy."

"Then where be the King's forces?" I made s.h.i.+ft to enquire by signs.

"March'd out o' Launceston to-day, lad--an' but a biscuit a man between 'em, poor dears--for Stratton Heath, i' the nor'-east, where the rebels be encamp'd. Heard by scouts o' these gentry bein' sent to Bodmin, and were minded to fight th' Earl o' Stamford whiles his dragooners was away. An' here's the long an' short o't: thou'rt wanted, lad, to bear a hand wi' us up yonder--an the good lady here can spare thee."

And here we both look'd at Joan--I shamefacedly enough, and Billy with a puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide.

She put her hand in mine.

"To fight, lad?"

I nodded my head.

"Then go," she said without a shade in her voice; and as I made no answer, went on--"Shall a woman hinder when there's fightin'

toward? Only come back when thy wars be over, for I shall miss thee, Jack."

And dropping my hand she led the way down to the cottage.

Now Billy, of course, had not heard a word of this: but perhaps he gathered some import. Any way, he pull'd up short midway on the slope, scratched his head, and thunder'd---

"What a good la.s.s!"

Joan, some paces ahead, turn'd at this and smil'd: whereat, having no idea he'd spoken above a whisper, Billy blush'd red as any peony.

'Twas but a short half hour when, the mare being saddled and Billy fed, we took our leave of Joan. Billy walked beside one stirrup, and the girl on the other side, to see us a few yards on our way. At length she halted---

"No leave-takin's, Jack, but 'Church and King!' Only do thy best and not disgrace me."

And "Church and King!" she call'd thrice after us, standing in the road. For me, as I rode up out of that valley, the drums seem'd beating and the bugles calling to a new life ahead. The last light of day was on the tors, the air blowing fresher as we mounted: and with Molly's every step the past five months appear'd to dissolve and fall away from me as a dream.

On the crest, I turn'd in the saddle. Joan was yet standing there, a black speck on the road. She waved her hand once.

Billy had turn'd too, and, uncovering, shouted so that the hilltops echoed.

"A good la.s.s--a good la.s.s! But what's become o' t'other one?"

CHAPTER XVI.

THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD HEATH.

Night came, and found us but midway between Temple and Lannceston: for tho' my comrade stepp'd briskly beside me, 'twas useless to put Molly beyond a walk; and besides, the mare was new from her day's journey. This troubled me the less by reason of the moon (now almost at the full), and the extreme whiteness of the road underfoot, so that there was no fear of going astray. And Billy engaged that by sunrise we should be in sight of the King's troops.

"Nay, Jack," he said, when by signs I offered him to ride and tie: "never rode o' horseback but once, and then 'pon Parson Spinks his red mare at Bideford. Parson i' those days was courtin' the Widow Hambly, over to Torrington: an' I, that wanted to fare to Barnstaple, spent that mornin' an' better part o' th' afternoon, clawin' off Torrington. And th' end was the larboard halyards broke, an' the mare gybed, an' to Torrington I went before the wind, wi' an unseemly b.l.o.o.d.y nose. 'Lud!' cries the widow, "tis the wrong man 'pon the right horse!' 'Pardon, mistress,' says I, 'the man is well enow, but 'pon the wrong horse, for sure.'"

Now and then, as we went, I would dismount and lead Molly by the bridle for a mile or so: and all the way to Launceston Billy was recounting his adventures since our parting. It appeared that, after leaving me, they had come to Plymouth with a fair pa.s.sage: but before they could unlade, had advertis.e.m.e.nt of the Governor's design to seize all vessels then riding in the Sound, for purposes of war; and so made a quick escape by night into Looe Haven, where they had the fortune to part with the best part of their cargo at a high profit. 'Twas while unlading here that Billy had a mind to pay a debt he ow'd to a cousin of his at Altarnun, and, leaving Matt Soames in charge, had tramped northward through Liskeard to Launceston, where he found the Cornish forces, and was met by the news of the Earl of Stamford's advance in the northeast. Further, meeting, in Sir Bevill's troop, with some north coast men of his acquaintance, he fell to talking, and so learn'd about me and my ride toward Braddock, which (it seem'd) was now become common knowledge. This led him to seek Sir Bevill, with the result that you know: "for," as he wound up, "'tis a desirable an' rare delight to pay a debt an' see some fun, together."

We had some trouble at Launceston gate, where were a few burghers posted for sentries, and, as I could see, ready to take fright at their own shadows. But Billy gave the watchword ("One and All"), and presently they let us through. As we pa.s.s'd along the street we marked a light in every window almost, tho' 'twas near midnight; and the people moving about behind their curtains. There were groups too in the dark doorways, gather'd there discussing, that eyed us as we went by, and answered Billy's _Good-night, honest men!_ very hoa.r.s.e and doubtfully.

But when we were beyond the town, and between hedges again, I think I must have dozed off in my saddle. For, though this was a road full of sharp memories, being the last I had traveled with Delia, I have no remembrance to have felt them; or, indeed, of noting aught but the fresh night air, and the constellation of the Bear blazing ahead, and Billy's voice resonant beside me.

And after this I can recall pa.s.sing the tower of Marham Church, with the paling sky behind it, and some birds chattering in the carved courses: and soon (it seem'd) felt Billy's grip on my knee, and open'd my eyes to see his finger pointing.

We stood on a ridge above a hollow vale into which the sun, though now bright, did not yet pierce, but pa.s.sing over to a high, conical hill beyond, smote level on line after line of white tents--the prettiest sight! 'Twas the enemy there encamped on the top and some way down the sides, the smoke of their trampled watch fires still curling among the gorsebushes. I heard their trumpets calling and drums beating to arms; for though, glancing back at the sun, I judged it to be hardly past four in the morning, yet already the slopes were moving like an ant-hill--the regiments gathering, arms flas.h.i.+ng, hors.e.m.e.n galloping to and fro, and the captains shouting their commands. In the distance this had a sweet and cheerful sound, no more disquieting than a ploughboy calling to his team.

Looking down into the valley at our feet, at first I saw no sign of our own troops--only the roofs of a little town, with overmuch smoke spread above it, like a morning mist. But here also I heard the church bells clas.h.i.+ng and a drum beating, and presently spied a gleam of arms down among the trees, and then a regiment of foot moving westward along the base of the hill. 'Twas evident the battle was at hand, and we quicken'd our pace down into the street.

It lay on the slope, and midway down we pa.s.s'd some watch fires burn'd out; and then a soldier or two running and fastening their straps; and last a little child, that seem'd wild with the joy of living amid great events, but led us pretty straight to the sign of "The Tree," which indeed was the only tavern.

It stood some way back from the street, with a great elm before the porch: where by a table sat two men, with tankards beside them, and a small company of grooms and soldiers standing round. Both men were more than ordinary tall and soldier like: only the bigger wore a scarlet cloak very richly lac'd, and was shouting orders to his men; while the other, dress'd in plain buff suit and jack boots, had a map spread before him, which he studied very attentively, writing therein with a quill pen.

"What a plague have we here?" cries the big man, as we drew up.

"Recruits if it please you, sir," said I, dismounting and pulling off my hat, tho' his insolent tone offended me.

"S'lid! The boy speaks as if he were a regiment," growls he, half aloud: "Can'st fight?"

"That, with your leave, sir, is what I am come to try."

"And this rascal?" He turned on Billy.

Billy heard not a word, of course, yet answered readily--

"Why, since your honor is so pleasantly minded--let it be cider."

Now the first effect of this, deliver'd with all force of lung, was to make the big man sit bolt upright and staring: recovering speech, however, he broke into a volley of blasphemous curses.

All this while the man in buff had scarce lifted his eyes off the map. But now he looks up--and I saw at the first glance that the two men hated each other.

"I think," said he quietly, "my Lord Mohun has forgot to ask the _gentleman's_ name."

"My name is Marvel, sir--John Marvel." I answer'd him with a bow.

"Hey!"--and dropping his pen he starts up and grasps my hand--"Then 'tis you I have never thanked for His Gracious Majesty's letter."

"The General Hopton?" cried I.

"Even so, sir. My lord," he went on, still holding my hand and turning to his companion, "let me present to you the gentleman that in January sav'd your house of Bocconnoc from burning at the hands of the rebels--whom G.o.d confound this day!" He lifted his hat.

"Amen," said I, as his lords.h.i.+p bowed, exceedingly sulky. But I did not value his rage, being hot with joy to be so beprais'd by the first captain (as I yet hold) on the royal side. Who now, not without a sly triumph, flung the price of Billy's cider on the table and, folding up his map, address'd me again--

"Master Marvel, the fight to-day will lie but little with the horse --or so I hope. You will do well, if your wish be to serve us best, to leave your mare behind. The troop which my Lord Mohun and I command together is below. But Sir Bevill Grenville, who has seen and is interested in you, has the first claim: and I would not deny you the delight to fight your first battle under so good a master.

His men are, with Sir John Berkeley's troop, a little to the westward: and if you are ready I will go some distance with you, and put you in the way to find him. My lord, may we look for you presently?"