On return for Hollymead, the hawking party did not pass through
Ruardean, as it would have been round about. Nevertheless, Sir Richard
went that way. At a forking of the forest paths the knight excused
himself to the ladies, leaving Eustace Trevor to escort them home; he,
with his own servant, turning off towards the village.
Some matter of importance must have influenced him to deviate from the
direct route; and that it was pressing might be deduced from the speed
to which he put his horse. Soon as parted from the others, he and
Hubert made free use of their spurs, going in reckless gallop down the
steepest pitches, nor drawing bridle till they had reached Ruardean. A
small place then as now, of some two hundred houses, contiguous to a
fine old church, and ancient hostelry opposite, the streets all
declivities, with some scattered dwellings that radiated off into quaint
nooks and by-ways.
The clattering of hoofs had brought faces to every window, and figures
into every door; for this had been heard long before the two horsemen
made their appearance. And now, as these came to a halt in front of the
inn, their horses breathing hard, all eyes were bent upon them with
inquiring curiosity.
"Wind your horn, Hubert!" commanded the knight, in an undertone, without
waiting for any one to come up to them.
A command which Hubert instantly obeyed by drawing a small cornet from
under his doublet, clapping it to his lips, and sounding the "Assembly."
He had been troop-trumpeter in "the army that swore so terribly in
Flanders," and so understood the cavalry calls.
No cavalry, however, answered this one, nor soldiers of any arm; though
it was answered by what looked the right material for making soldiers.
Before the cornet's notes had ceased reverberating from the tower of the
church, and the walls of the old castle--then in ruins--men could be
seen issuing from the doors of the nearer houses, others hastening along
the lanes from those more remote, all making for the spot where the
horsemen were halted.
In a few seconds nearly twenty had gathered, up and grouped around the
horses; the expression on their faces showing that they understood the
signal in a general way, but not the reason for its having been sounded
to summon them just then. All looked inquiry, one putting it in the
form of speech,--
"What belt, Sir Richard?" He who interrogated was a man of gigantic
size, inches taller than any of the others. But something more than his
superior stature privileged him to be first spokesman, as could be
deduced from Sir Richard's answer.
"A troop coming from Lydney, Rob. They're through Drybrook by this,
making for Hollymead. You and your friends will, no doubt, be there,
too, curious to see how the soldiers behave themselves?"
"We'll be there, sure, Sir Richard. Rob Wilde for one, an' belikes a
good many more."
"So well," rejoined the knight, with a satisfied look. Then leaning
over on his saddle he whispered some words of a confidential character
into the ear of the deer-stealer. After which, setting himself straight
in the stirrups, he again set his horse into a gallop, and rode out of
the village as rapidly as he had entered it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I hear they're coming, Sir Richard?"
"They are, Mr Powell. By all signs, it's the party you've been
expecting. Indeed, there can be no doubt about its being Wintour's
troop. One of the officers at its head we made out to be Master
Trevor's cousin, as you've heard, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes. And of their purpose there can be as little doubt--to levy
for that 3,000 pounds the King facetiously terms _loan_. A downright
robbery, I call it."
"I too."
"What ought I to do, Sir Richard? I have the money in the house, and
suppose I must give it to them. But if you say the word, I'll refuse."
"Let me leave the word unsaid till I see what sort of following is after
them. There appeared to be a good many from Mitcheldean, likely to be
joined by more at Drybrook, to say nothing of the contingent from nearer
home. Everything must depend on their numbers and the spirit we find
them in."
"I understand," said the other, with an assenting nod, "and will trust
all to you."
This brief dialogue was at the door of Hollymead House, its owner
standing in the porch, Sir Richard still on horseback, just arrived from
that passage at courier-speed through Ruardean. It ended by his
dismounting and giving his horse to Hubert, with directions to take both
their animals round to the stable-yard, and there keep them under saddle
and bridle. Some other instructions were delivered to the same _sotto
voce_. Then to the symphony of clanking spurs the knight ascended to
the porch; and after a few more words exchanged with the master of the
house, he passed on into the withdrawing-room.
His entrance was a welcome intrusion, as the company inside consisted of
the awkward number three.
And soon they paired, each pair passing into the embayment of a window,
and there taking stand. Not to talk of love, or even think of it;
though something equally serious occupied their thoughts--something less
agreeable. All were alike imbued with an instinct of danger drawing
nigh, and so close, their eyes were now on the alert, apprehensively
gazing down the oak-shadowed avenue.
A few seconds more and they saw what they were expecting--horses, plumed
hats, and the glancing of armour--a troop outside the park gate halted
till its fastenings could be undone. In an instant it was dashed open,
and soldiers seen filing through--the same as they had descried on the
hill beyond Drybrook.
On came they up the avenue, without making stop till within fifty yards
of the house, where they were again brought up at the entrance to the
ornamental grounds. These were enclosed by a _haw-haw_; the causeway
which crossed it having a gate also. And while this was being got open
all four looking from the windows had now no difficulty in identifying
Reginald Trevor in one of the officers at the head of the troop; while
two of them at the same time recognised the other.
"Why, bless me!" exclaimed the ex-gentleman-usher, "that's Colonel
Lunsford."
"As I live, Tom Lunsford!" was the almost simultaneous exclamation of
the knight.
"Colonel Lunsford?" interrogated Vaga, addressing herself to him by her
side.
"Tom Lunsford?" in like manner questioned Sabrina, but with more
earnestness as she saw Sir Richard's brow suddenly darken. "Who and
what is he?"
"One of the most notorious--but never mind, now. By-and-by we'll talk,
of him. Like enough he'll favour us with a taste of his quality before
leaving Hollymead. But," he added, the cloud upon his brow becoming
darker, "if he do--."
The knight did not finish what was evidently intended to be a threat,
partly because he saw fear coming over the face of his betrothed, and
partly that the man for whom his menace was meant had got through the
gate, and, with Reginald Trevor by his side, and the soldiers filing in
behind them, was now close up to the house.