Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story > This page
Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 23. An Exciting Watch |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. AN EXCITING WATCH Fred lay insensible for a few minutes, and when he did struggle back into consciousness, it seemed to him that he must be still dreaming, or else that the bewildering excitement of the civil war, with the misery, despair, and wretchedness, was all the result of his fevered imagination. What did it all mean? he asked himself. Were they back at home, and had he fallen from the pony and struck his head against a rock? or was he over at the Hall, and was this the time when he climbed the great elm to get the magpie's nest, and had that horrible fall? No; it was all true--this was the war time--he was badly wounded, and his enemy, Scarlett Markham, the young Cavalier, was bending over him in mocking triumph at his downfall, and revenging himself for the insult he had received in the loss of his flowing curls. It was a cruel revenge--one which, in spite of his efforts, brought the weak tears to his eyes, and, as he closed them tightly to hide his emotion three or four great drops were shut out by the lids, and rolled slowly down on either side, tickling him for the time before they were washed away. Then, as the time glided on, Fred opened his eyes, and looked up in Scarlett's, as he again asked himself whether it was all a dream, the consequence of his fevered state. For there, kneeling in the straw, was Scarlett Markham, his buff gauntlet gloves thrust in his sword-belt, his cavalier hat cast aside, and his brow knit and glistening with perspiration, as he kept on dipping a white kerchief in a bowl of cold water held by some one at the back, and carefully bathed Fred's forehead. How cool and delightful that water felt as the kerchief was opened out, and spread right across the brow from temple to temple! Then how hot it grew, till it was softly removed, to be resoaked and applied once more with all the tender solicitude that would have been shown by a woman. Fred wanted to speak, but no words would come; he could only lie there, with his breast heaving, as he watched the calmly stern, handsome face bending over him, and thought of the past--their old boyish friendship, the delightful days when they frolicked in the park; and fished, and sought for plovers' eggs on the moor. How short a time ago it seemed, and now they were acting the parts of men fighting on either side in the terrible civil war which was devastating old England; enemies--deadly enemies, and Scarlett Markham was pouring coals of fire upon his head. "Shall I fetch some more water, sir? This is getting quite warm," said a pleasant voice. "Yes, I was going to ask you to get some more," said Scarlett. "Be quick, my lass; we shall be called away directly." Then Fred had a glimpse of a bonny, little, round-faced lass, with red cheeks and hands, as the bowl was borne away. The straw rustled, and steps were heard upon the rough loft ladder, to be followed by the rattle of a chain, and the creaking of a windlass, Fred seeming to see all as plainly as if he were there, and watching the girl's actions at the draw-well in the yard below. And all this time the two boys gazed at each other in silence--a silence that was broken by the splash of water; then there were footsteps on the ladder again, and the red-faced lass came back, knelt down behind the injured lad's head, the kerchief was soaked, and the cool refreshing water did its work. "And we are enemies," thought Fred, with his eyes now closed, and a calm restful feeling coming over him like the beginning of sleep, from which he started, for there was the loud trampling of horses, the jingling of accoutrements, and the brazen bray of a trumpet. Scarlett started up, shook the water from his hands, snatched up his broad-leafed hat, and took his gloves from his belt. "Bathe his forehead for a few minutes longer, and then let him sleep. We shall be back before many hours, but the surgeon will be here before then." "Yes, sir." "And tell your father that General Markham will see that he is paid for all his trouble." "Oh, sir," said the girl, "you need not think of that. We'll do our best." By this time Scarlett was at the door, and Fred had turned his eyes toward him, but he did not look back. "Come, Nat," he cried loudly; and his follower stumped over the rough straw; the steps creaked, and voices were heard below. Loud orders followed. Then the trumpet brayed out again, the trampling of horses followed, and the girl set down the bowl, and went to the end of the loft, where she climbed up and looked through the little window, staying there till the trampling of the horses had died away. "Gone," she said, as she returned to Fred's side, and prepared to bathe his brow once more. "No," he said gently; "let me sleep now. But haven't I seen you before?" "Yes, sir; you came here and brought Captain Markham and the prisoners," said the girl, turning a deeper red, as she recalled her own action upon that occasion, and gazed suspiciously in his face for signs that he knew of all that she had done. "Yes, I remember now." "And I suppose you were wounded when they were rescued by a party of the king's horse?" "Yes," sighed Fred. "I thought I remembered you. The little inn near the moor." "Yes, sir. Father's inn." "And you are Royalists, I suppose?" "I don't know what we are, sir. We only wish the war was over, and we want to do all we can for the poor wounded folk." "For rebels, too?" said Fred, bitterly. "For any one who is in trouble, sir; and if you don't want me to bathe your head again, I'll go and attend to your servant. Father says there's nothing like clean cold water for a cut." "Yes, go and help the two poor fellows; but, one moment--there was quite a regiment there, was there not?" "Yes, sir; the greater part of one. Came from the town." "Do you know where they have gone?" "No, sir, only along the Exeter road. News came, I think, of the enemy being there, and I'm afraid we shall be having more wounded to-night." The girl went on to where Samson and the other man lay, and soon afterward the landlord's red face appeared at the head of the stairs, to cry hastily-- "Here, Polly! Dick has just come in from the top of the hill, and he could see soldiers riding this way to meet the regiment going along the road. There'll be a fight not far from here, I'll wager, and--Hark at that!" "I don't hear anything, father." "But I do. Horses galloping. Now can you hear?" There was a faint distant sound, gradually increasing--a sound which soon developed into the rapid beat of horses' hoofs, and the girl climbed to the window to look out again. "Yes, father, I can see them," she cried. "Well, well, what is it? the king's regiment?" "Yes, father, coming galloping back along the road, and--yes, I can see them too, a great regiment of the other side galloping after them, and you can see more soldiers off on the moor." "Coming this way?" "No; going right off behind the wood." "To cut them off," cried the landlord. "It's some one who knows the country, and if the king's regiment keeps to the road those last will get before them; they'll be between two parties of the rebels, and they'll be cut to pieces." "Hooray!" came from the straw where Samson lay, and the landlord turned upon him angrily, but there was too much that was exciting outside to let him find words of reproof. The clatter of hoofs and jingle of sword against stirrup increased, and Fred lay with his eyes glittering, panting heavily as, full of excitement, he listened to the sounds of hurried flight. Then came another trumpet blast, sounding distant, and a rushing sound as of a coming storm, ever increasing in power. Then another blast, and another, both sounding farther away, and as the wounded lad lay there, he pictured to himself the advance of two more regiments of the Parliamentary cavalry rapidly coming on in pursuit, his mental pictures being endorsed by the words of the landlord's daughter, as she forced her head out of the little opening to watch the retreat and pursuit, turning from time to time to speak to her father in answer to some eager question. "Are they keeping to the road, Polly? Quick, my girl? Why don't you speak?" "Yes, father; they are keeping to the road." "Can't you tell 'em to turn off across the moor?" "No, father; they are too far away." "Shout to them." "It's of no use, father. One, two, three rebel regiments are coming along at full gallop." "All on the road?" "No; one on the road, the others across the moor." "The poor fellows will be cut all to pieces. Can nothing be done? Here, Polly, come down, and let me look." "There is plenty of room beside me, father. How they are galloping now!" In spite of his weakness, Fred had turned himself a little on one side, so as to watch the backs of the pair who were now blocking out the little light which came from the window; and as the exciting events went on, and he listened to the galloping of the horses, the shouts of the horsemen--his own party--and the trumpet calls, the perspiration due to excitement stood upon his brow, and he at last groaned out-- "Oh, if I could only see!" "Ay, Master Fred, if we could only see!" came from close at hand. "Hark at 'em! hark at 'em!" There was no need for Samson's adjuration, for Fred's sense of hearing was strained to the utmost, and he was picturing mentally the effects of the scattered shots which were now being fired. "All waste, Samson; all waste," he said hoarsely. "No man can take aim when he's galloping full stretch." "No, Master Fred; but it'll scare t'other side a bit, p'raps make some of 'em surrender." Fred shook his head slowly, and then listened again as the girl exclaimed excitedly-- "Look, father; there's one down!" "Ay, how could he expect to leap the wall on a horse blown like that?" "Those two have galloped up to him. Ah, cowards! two to one. Father, they're killing him. Oh!" "They're not," cried Fred, hotly. "They're taking him prisoner." "Right!" cried the landlord, turning sharply; "but how did you know?" "Because I know our side would not act like butchers with a defenceless man," said Fred, proudly, "They take prisoners, sir, and always give quarter." The landlord uttered a grunt, and turned sharply to watch the progress of the fight and pursuit. "Look, Polly!" he cried; "they have got to the top of the hill, and see their danger." "Yes, father; look, look--they have halted and turned. Yes; they are coming back." "Can the two regiments trying to cut them off see them?" "No, I think not; they are down in the hollows. Look, father; they're coming back." "The enemy?" "No; the king's men. Can't you see!" "See? yes," cried the landlord, with increased excitement. "Why, they're mad. They're coming right into danger. Whatever do they mean?" "I don't know, father. Why, they'll all be taken." "They must have a fool for leader." "Ah!" sighed Fred, as he strained his ears to catch every word and sound from outside. But the landlord was wrong. The king's regiment of horse had no fool for colonel. On the contrary, he had suddenly woke to the fact that a regiment of Ironsides on his left, and another on his right, were trying to get round him by short cuts, so as to head him back to the regiment in pursuit; and, what was more, he saw that there could be no doubt of the success of the manoeuvre. With a gallantry that almost approached recklessness he faced round his regiment, and in the full intent of attacking his enemies, corps by corps, he gave the order to charge, and dashed right at the pursuing regiment. This movement resulted in bringing the engagement well within view of the spectators in the loft, or rather, it should be said, of the spectator; for, as soon as the landlord's daughter saw that a deadly shock was inevitable, she covered her face with her hands, stepped down from beside her father, and fell upon her knees in the straw close to where Fred lay. "God help them, poor men!" she murmured. "How horrible it is!" Then there was a painful silence within that straw-spread loft, while without there was a rushing sound, as of two great torrents hurrying to meet, and above this came the jingling of sword and spur, the hoarse shouting of words of command; then the brazen blare of trumpets, followed by a distant cheer; then one more near; and then one horrible, crashing, hurtling noise, as man and beast dashed at man and beast, and came into collision. There was the clash of sword upon sword, of sword upon helmet, and again of sword upon breastplate. Yells of pain, wild shrieks, shouts of defiance, and then one confused din, broken by a loud "Hah!" from the landlord. "Polly," he cried, "it's awful! Ah, here comes another regiment, and-- yes, here comes the other!" Almost as he spoke, came the sound of another shock, and then of another, followed by desperate clashing of steel, which grew less and less and less, and then gradually died out, to be followed by a dull, low murmur, and then silence, which lasted only a few moments, to be succeeded by a series of deafening cheers. "Is it all over, father?" whispered Polly, with hands over her face. "Yes, my girl," said the landlord, in a sad voice; "it is all over for the poor fellows." "Who have won, father?" "What's the use of asking that? What could you expect, when it was three to one? Plenty of killed and wounded, and not a man escaped. Yes; there they are, two or three hundred of them, and all prisoners." "Will they bring the wounded here, father?" "I don't know, Polly. Where are we to put them, if they do?" "Ah!" sighed the girl, rising and wiping her eyes, "it is very dreadful, and I nearly swooned away when they brought the first wounded men here; but I must be about and ready to help when they come. They'll want all we can do." She smoothed down her apron in a calm, matter-of-fact way, and then moved over the rustling straw, as if ready for any duty; but she seemed to recollect something, and came back to where Fred lay. "It's your side that has won, sir," she said. "You will not be a prisoner any longer, and--" "Yes?" said Fred, for she stopped short. "You heard what my father said, sir? You know he likes the Royalists, and if he fought would fight for the king?" "Yes, I could see all that from his manner. I had no need to hear his words." "But he is so good and kind, sir. He would not hurt a hair of any man's head. You will not betray him to the soldiers, sir, and let him be treated as a spy." Fred was conscious that the girl was talking to him, but her words seemed to be coming through a thick mist, and she looked far away somewhere down a long vista of light, which stretched right away into space, beginning upon the straw where he was lying, and passing right out through the end of the loft. And there, within this vista of light, surrounded by dancing motes, was the landlord's daughter. Then, as if a thin filmy cloud had passed over the sun, a cloud which grew thicker and thicker, so that the broad beam of light gradually died away, the pleasant young homely face grew less and less distinct, and, lastly, all was confused and mingled with singing noises and murmurs in his head, and then--a complete blank. _ |
||