Corporal Sam and Other Stories Part 7

'But what is the signification, sir?' I asked, rising from my chair and stepping close.

'Ah! You improve, soldier. It hath signification, not use: and it signifies the motion of the heavens. See--this larger ball is the sun; and here, on their several rods, the planets--all swinging in their courses. By a pointer on this dial-plate--observe me now--I reduce the s.p.a.ce of a day to one, two, three minutes, as I chose, r.e.t.a.r.ding or accelerating, but always in just proportion. 'Tis set for these December days; you will remark the sun's ambit--how it lies south of the zenith, and how far short it rises and falls from the equinoctial points. But wait awhile, and in a few minutes--that is to say, days--you shall see him start to widen his circuit. Here now is Saturn, with his rim: and here Venus--mark how delicately she lifts, following the motion of her lord--'

'Just with the Sun her dainty feet doth move--'

'And this is Dancing--Orchestra Coeli--the Dancing of the Firmament.'

'Wonderful!' I cried.

'You shall say so presently! So far you have only seen: now hear!'

He drew out a small bra.s.s pin from the foot of the mechanism, and at once it began to hum, on three or four notes such as children make with a comb and a sc.r.a.p of paper.

The notes lifted and fell, and the little b.a.l.l.s--each in his separate circle--wheeled and spun, twinkling in time with them, until my head, too, began to swim.

'It will run for an hour now,' my host a.s.sured me. 'Indeed, with one to watch and draw up the weights at due intervals, it will run for ever.'

'It dizzies me,' said I.

'Your head is light, belike, with the loss of blood. Sit you back in the chair, and I will try now what may be done with ointment and plaster.'

He forced me to seat myself and, fetching a small medicine-box from the press, began to operate. His fingers were extraordinarily quick and thin, and so delicate of touch that I felt no pain, or very little: but though I lay with my head far back and saw the machine no longer, it had set my brain spinning, and the pressure of his hands appeared to be urging it round and round, while his voice (for he talked without intermission) mingled and interwove itself with the drone of the music from the table. He was reciting verses; from his favourite poem, no doubt. But though the sound of them ran in my ears like a brook, I can remember one couplet only,--

'And all in sundry measures do delight, Yet altogether keep no measure right. . . .'

I dare say that, yielding to the giddiness, I swooned: and yet I can remember no interval. The circles seemed to have hold of me, to be drawing me down, and yet down; until, like a diver half-bursting for breath, I found strength, sprang upwards, and reached the surface with a cry.

The cry rang in my ears yet. But had it come, after all, from my own lips? I gripped the arms of the chair in a kind of terror, and leaned forward, staring at my host, who had fallen back a pace, and stood between me and the lamp.

'Pardon me, sir,' I found voice to say after a pause 'I must have fallen into a doze, I think. My head--' I put a hand up to it and discovered that it was bandaged. He did not answer me, but appeared to be listening. 'My head--' I repeated, and again stopped short-- this time at sound of a cry.

It came from the night without: and at once I knew it to be a repet.i.tion of the sound that had aroused me. Nor was it, in fact, a cry, though it rose like a cry against the wind: rather, a confused uproar of voices, continuous, drawing nearer and nearer.

Then, as I stared at my host and he at me, the noise became articulate as drunken singing--'_Tow, row, row! Tow, row, row! . . .

Crop-headed Puritans, tow, row, row. . . . Boot and saddle, and tow, row, row!_--and, nearing so, broke into chorus,--

'Waller and Hazelrigg, Stapleton, Scroop-- Way! Make way for His Majesty's troop!

Crop-headed Puritans durstn't deny His Majesty's gentlemen riding by, With boot and saddle and tow-row-row!'

'Good Lord!' muttered my host, casting out his two hands in despair.

'More soldiers!'

But by this time I had my hand on the door. 'Guide me down the stairs,' I commanded; 'down to the door! And, before you open it, quench the light!'

By the time we reached the door the voices were close at hand, coming down the lane: and by each note of them I grew more clearly convinced. 'Sir,' I asked in a whisper, 'does this lane lead off from the road on the near side of Alton?

For a moment it seemed that he did not hear me. 'Pray Heaven I dowsed the light in time!' he chattered. 'Three visits in one night is more than my sins deserve. . . . Yes; the lane enters a half-mile this side of Alton, and returns back--'

'Well enough I know where it returns back' said I. 'Man, did you bewitch them?--as, a while ago, you bewitched me?'

'Eh?'

I felt that he was peering at me in the dark.

'_Something_ has bewitched them,' I persisted. 'Either the wine or that devil's toy of yours has hold of them; or the both, belike.

These are the same men, and have travelled full circle, listen to them!--'tis the music of the spheres, sir.'

'I believe you are right,' said my host, with a chuckle.

'O, Copernicus!'

I drew the door open gently and looked aloft. The night, before so starry, was now clouded over. The troopers--I could hear their horses' hoofs above the whoops and yells of their chorusing--were winding downhill by a sunken way within ten yards of me. A gravel path lay between me and the hedge overlooking it. This I saw by the faint upcast rays of the lanterns they had lit for guidance.

I tip-toed across to the hedge, and, peering over, was relieved of my last doubt: for at the tail of the procession and under charge of one drunken trooper for whipper-in, rode all my poor comrades with arms triced behind them and ankles lamentably looped under their horses'

bellies.

Even as they pa.s.sed a thought came into my head: and the face of the whipper-in--seen dimly in the shadow of a lantern he joggled at his saddle-bow--decided me. I slipped off my sash, looped it loosely in my hand, and so, without waiting to say farewell to my host, slid down the bank into the lane.

Though I shot over the frozen bank a deal faster than ever I intended and dropped on the roadway with a thud, the trooper, bawling his chorus, did not turn in his saddle. I tip-toed after him, between a walk and a run, and still he did not turn. Not till I was level with his stirrup did he guess that I was on him; and even so he could scarcely roar out a curse before I had my sash flung over him and with a jerk fetched him clean out of his saddle. As he pitched sideways, the lantern fell with a clatter and rolled into the hedge.

'What the devil's up with you, back there!' At the noise, I heard two or three of the midmost troopers rein up.

'Right! All right!' I called forward to them, catching the horse's bridle and at the same time stooping over the poor fool--to gag him, if need were. He lay as he had fallen. I hope I have not his death to my account, and for certain no corpse lay in the road when I pa.s.sed along it a few hours later.

'Right!' I called st.u.r.dily, deepening my voice to imitate that of my victim as nearly as I could match it--

'Crop-headed Puritans, tow-row-row!'

Still shouting the chorus, I mastered the reluctant horse, swung myself into saddle, and edged up towards my comrades.

'Carey! Shackell!' I called softly, overtaking them.

At the sound of my voice, they came near to letting out a cry that had spoilt all. Masters, indeed, started a yell: but Small Owens (whose bands I had fortunately cut the first) reached out a hand and clapped it over his mouth.

'How many be they?' I asked as we rode.

'Twenty-two,' answered Randles, chafing his wrists, 'and all drunk as lords.'

'If we had arms,' said Carey, 'we might drive the whole lot.'

'But since you have not,' said I, 'we must pitch our attempt lower.

In three minutes we shall reach the high-road; and then strike spurs all to the right for Farnham!'

But our luck proved better than we hoped. For as we drew near the exit of the lane, I heard a voice challenge. The chorus, which had lasted us all the way, ceased on a sudden, and was taken up by a pistol-shot. At once I guessed that here must be help, and, feeling for my trumpet, found it and blew the call. Naked of weapons as my comrades were, we charged down on the rear, broke it, and flung it upon the darkness, where by this time we could hear the voice of Wilkins, our sergeant-major, bellowing above the tumult.

Within five minutes this double charge settled all. The pack-horses were ours again, with twenty-one inebriate prisoners. My mare, galloping home with the third pack-horse at her heels, had alarmed the picket, and Wilkins, with twenty men, had turned out to scour the Alton road.

So, while we secured our drunkards to the last man, I had leisure to bless my fortune.