The Mayor of Troy Part 18

"Where?" panted Miss Marty.

"Here . . . if you will stoop while I lift the brim. . . . Carefully, please. Now!"

Miss Marty stooped, but could not reach low enough to peer under the shako. She dropped on her knees. The Doctor was kneeling already.

He showed her how to look, and this brought their cheeks close together. . . .

"Oh!" cried Miss Marty, suddenly.

"I couldn't help it," said the Doctor.

"And--and you have let him escape!" She buried her face in both hands, and broke into a fit of weeping.

"I don't care. . . . Yes, I do!" He caught her hands away from her face and, their hiding being denied her, she leant her brow against his shoulder. With that, his arm crept around her waist.

For a while he let her sob out her emotion. Then, taking her firmly by both wrists, he looked once into her eyes, led her to a seat upon the pebble ridge, and sat himself down beside her.

For a long while they rested there in silence, hand clasped in hand.

The uproar across the river had ceased. They heard only the splash of the small waterfall and, in its pauses, the call of bird to bird, mating amid the hazels and the oaks.

They drew apart suddenly, warned by the sound of dipping oars, the creak of thole-pins; and in a few seconds the rower hove into view, pulling up-stream as if for dear life. It was Cai Tamblyn. Catching sight of them, with a sharp exclamation he ceased rowing, held water, and bringing the boat's nose round, headed in for sh.o.r.e.

"You're wanted, quick!" he called to the Doctor. "They sent me off in search of you."

"Hey? What? Has there been an accident?"

Cai brought his boat alongside, glanced at Miss Marty, and lowered his voice.

"'Tis Lady Felix-Williams. These here conquerin' 'eroes of the Major's have swarmed down through the woods an' ran foul of the liquor. The Band in partikler's as drunk as Chloe, an' what with horning and banging under her ladyship's window, they've a-scared her before her time. She's crying out at this moment, and old Sir Felix around in his dressing-gown like Satan let loose. Talk about Millenniums!"

"Good Lord!" Dr. Hansombody caught up his haversack.

"The Millennium? I'd clean forgot about it!"

Miss Marty gazed at him with innocent inquiring eyes.

"But--but isn't this the Millennium?" she asked.

CHAPTER X.

GUNNER SOBEY TURNS LOOSE THE MILLENNIUM.

Let us return for a while to Talland Cove, and to the moment when Captain Arbuthnot's Dragoons broke ambush and charged down upon the Gallants.

Of all our company you will remember that Gunner Sobey pa.s.sed for the readiest man. This reputation he now and instantly vindicated.

For happening to be posted on the extreme left in the shadow of the western cliff, and hearing a sudden cry, "The French! The French!"

he neither fell back with the rest of the crowd nor foolhardily resisted an enemy whose strength could not yet be measured: but leaping aside, and by great good luck finding foothold on the rocks to his left, he wriggled over the low ledge of the cliff and thence-- now clutching at the gra.s.s bents or cl.u.s.ters of the sea-pink, now digging his fingers into the turf, but always flat, or nearly flat, on his belly--he wormed his way at incredible speed up the slope, found covert behind a tall furze-bush, and surveyed for a few seconds the scene below him.

The outcries which yet continued, the splashing as of men in desperate struggle at the water's edge, the hoa.r.s.e words of command, the scurrying lanterns, the gleam of a hundred tossing sabres--all these told their own tale to Gunner Sobey. He arose and ran again; nor drew breath until he had gained the top of the rough brake and flung himself over a stone wall into the dry ditch of a vast pasture field that domed itself far above him against the starry heavens.

Now let it be understood that what lent wings to Gunner Sobey's heels was not cowardice, but an overmastering desire to reach home with all speed. Let no reader mistake for panic what was in truth exceptional presence of mind.

The Major, you must know, had drawn up, some months before, and issued in a General Order, certain _Instructions in Case of Invasion_--in case, that is to say, the enemy should momentarily break through our coast defence and effect an actual footing.

The main body of the Gallants would then, converting itself into a rearguard, cover the town and keep the foe in check, while separate detachments fell back swiftly, each to execute its a.s.signed duty.

For example:

Detachments A and B would round up and drive off the cattle.

Detachment C would a.s.sist the escape of the women and children.

Detachment D would collect and carry off provisions, and destroy what was left.

Detachment E would set fire to the corn and the hayricks.

Detachment F would horse themselves and ride inland to warn the towns and villages, and make all possible preparations for blowing up the bridges and otherwise impeding the enemy's advance after the rearguard's pa.s.sage. And so on.

Gunner Sobey, though but a volunteer, possessed that simplicity of intellect which we have come to prize as the first essential in a British soldier. It was not his to reason why; not his to ask how the French had gained a footing in Talland Cove, or how, having gained it, they were to be dislodged. Once satisfied of their arrival, he left them, as his soldierly training enjoined, severely alone. Deplorable as he might deem the occurrence, it had happened; and _ipso facto_, it consigned him, in accordance with general orders, to Detachment D, with the duties and responsibilities of that detachment. On these then--and at first on these, and these only--he bent his practical, resolute mind. It will be seen if he stopped short with them.

Picking himself up from the dry ditch, intent only on heading for home, he was aware of a dark object on the brink above him; which at first he took for a bramble bush, and next, seeing it move, for a man.

It is no discredit to Gunner Sobey that, taken suddenly in the darkness, and at so hopeless a disadvantage, he felt his knees shake under him for a moment.

"Parley-voo?" he ventured.

The proverb says that a Polperro jacka.s.s is surprised at nothing, and this one, which had been browsing on the edge of the ditch, merely gazed.

"I--I ax your pardon," went on Gunner Sobey, still slightly unhinged.

"The fact is, I mistook you for another person."

The jacka.s.s drew back a little. It seemed to Gunner Sobey to be breathing hard, but otherwise it betrayed no emotion.

"Soh, then! Soh, my beauty!" said Gunner Sobey, and having clambered the ditch, reached out a caressing hand.

The donkey retreated, backing, step by step: and as Gunner Sobey stared a white blaze on the animal's face grew more and more distinct to him.

"Eh? Why, surely--soh, then!--you're Jowter Puckey's naggur? And if so--and I'll be sworn to you, seein' you close--what's become of th'

old mare I sold him last Marti'mas?"

The beast still retreated. But Gunner Sobey's wits were now working rapidly. If Jowter Puckey pastured his jacka.s.s here, why here then (it was reasonable to surmise) he also pastured the old mare, Pleasant: and if Pleasant browsed anywhere within earshot, why the chances were she would remember and respond to her former master's call.

I repeat that Gunner Sobey was a ready man and a brave. Without pausing to reflect that the French might hear him, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled into the night.

For a while there came no reply. He had his two fingers in his mouth to repeat the call when, happening to glance at the jacka.s.s, he perceived the beast's ears go up and its head slew round towards the ridge. Doubtless it had caught the distant echo of hoofs; for half a minute later a low whinny sounded from the summit of the dark slope, and a grey form came lumbering down at a trot, halted, and thrust forward its muzzle to be caressed.

"Pleasant! Oh, my dear Pleasant!" stammered Gunner Sobey, reaching out a hand and fondling first her nose, then her ears. He could have thrown both arms around her ewe neck and hugged her. "How did I come to sell 'ee?"