Hiding from the Enemy
I had been carried off in such haste as left me no time to look back
and see if my servants were equally well mounted, and for some time
all I could do was to cling to my cavalier. I felt his heart beating
as I did so and his warm breath fanning my cheeks. Moments seemed
hours as they passed.
And now shouts and the sound of pursuing horsemen entering the fields
in full career after us sounded in our ears, and, looking back, we
saw a company of riders as well as foot-runners.
'Hold tight, madam; we take the fence. Hurrah! old Sultan has done
it!' cried my knight, and we were over and speeding across a meadow
long before any one else had reached the fence.
Presently I heard shooting, and, looking back, perceived that my
knight's men, hampered by the wounded servants and unable to leap the
fence, were obliged to turn and fight. This kept back the pursuers
and gave us a better chance of escape.
My cavalier drew rein and looked back across the meadow. Alas, four
horsemen, having separated themselves from the others, had just
leaped the fence and were galloping after us.
'Sultan, good horse!' cried my knight encouragingly, and his steed
answered with a low whinny, and galloped along as before. 'Cling to
me, madam. Hold tight!'
Again I clung to him convulsively, not venturing to speak about my
fears for my poor servants and our own perilous position.
Another higher and thicker fence was leaped, not quite so
successfully this time, for poor Sultan was just done and,
floundering, caught his hoof in a long hawthorn branch. Down he fell
upon his knees, and I saw stars and thick darkness.
When I came to myself, I found I was being carried in the strong arms
of the good knight. I said nothing, for indeed what could I say?
What he was doing for me that day I should never forget, never in all
my life. But I could not speak of it.
Presently I could see that we were passing through a plantation of
young trees, on a path so narrow that my rescuer had much difficulty
in carrying me through it. He was exceedingly careful lest I should
receive a knock from some too prominent bough or tree-trunk, yet I
noticed he bruised his own hands more than once in his endeavour to
protect me. I thought I should never feel the same about those hands
again; they had suffered for me. Once as he carried me on I tried to
wipe off the blood that flowed from a scratch on his neck with my
neckerchief, torn off for the purpose, much to his concern.
'Do not,' he said. 'It does not matter about me.'
But I persisted that it did, and bound his neck with the neckerchief,
begging him to permit the liberty I was taking.
He looked at me then very kindly, saying, 'No one ever took so much
trouble about me before,' and that seemed to me the most
extraordinary shame that ever was.
When we were through the plantation we found a wooden shanty, or
covered shed, in the field at the other side of the trees. The door
of the place was not locked, and my knight set me down upon my feet
and opened it. Then he led me in, and we found there was an old cart
in it, full of cut grass.
'We must hide here a little while,' said my rescuer. 'Perhaps our
pursuers will not come to this side of the trees.'
'I am afraid they will,' returned I, 'if they saw us entering the
wood.'
'Then we must hide,' said he. 'Madam, can you get into the cart?'
'Easily,' I answered. 'My name,' I added shyly, for it was awkward
for us not to know each other's names, 'is Margaret Brown.'
'Mistress Margaret Brown,' said he, pronouncing the words so
beautifully that it seemed to me my cognomen had never sounded half
so well before. Then he added, 'And mine is Hubert Blair.'
'Sir Hubert Blair?' said I thoughtfully, thinking what a very nice
name it was and how well it seemed to suit the man.
'Yes,' answered he with a smile. 'But now, Mistress Brown, please to
get into the cart and lie down. Then I will cover you with the cut
grass which half fills it.'
'Will you hide yourself too?'
'Aye, aye.'
He assisted me into the cart and piled the grass over me, even
putting a thin layer of it over my head. Then, perceiving a heap of
grass in the corner of the shed, and, thinking he could conceal
himself more quickly in it, he told me that he was going to do so,
beseeching me, whatever happened, to make no sound, but to lie still
where I was hidden.
'You may rely upon me,' I said. 'You, Sir Hubert, are the captain of
this adventure, and I know how to obey.'
Sir Hubert then hid himself as well as he could in the heap of cut
grass in the corner of the shed, and scarcely had he done so when the
noise of men and horses was to be heard outside.
Presently a man pushed the door open and entered.
'What's in here?' he said aloud. 'A queer sort of a shed! Better
call the others. But no, it seemeth empty, except for this grass.
What have we here?'
He had approached the cart, and was peering in cautiously.
'Bad farming to leave so much stuff in a cart!' he went on, poking
the grass a little with his stick, or weapon.
I trembled, and was fearful that my trembling would cause the grass
to move. Indeed, he must have seen something of the sort, for he
said in a low tone, 'Thou needst not fear. As sure as my name is
Jack Fish, I will keep the other men out of this place.'
With that he went away, returning, however, in a moment to add, 'Thou
hadst best keep here a little while longer before thou attemptest to
go away. I am a true man. I will keep thy secret.'
With that he crossed over to the heap of grass in the corner of the
shed, behind which Sir Hubert was hidden. Then, being of a playful
humour, he began to poke the grass heap gently with his foot,
blustering a little as he did so.
'Hullo!' said he, ''tis strange how men and grass become mixed in
these days! Easy now, don't show thyself! I am a truthful man, and
I want to say I have seen no one. Thou needst not fear.'
'Thanks. You are a good man.'
The words came out of the grass with weird effect.
'I'll get the others away from here directly; I really joined them to
prevent their doing mischief. But do not stir for half an hour or
so. Then keep well to the right and thou wilt regain the high road,
and perchance find thy litter awaiting thee.'
Now Sir Hubert was so delighted to hear this, and so certain that the
man was a friend, that he threw the grass off him and sat up, but was
instantly almost smothered with the quantity of green stuff the other
immediately threw over him.
The next instant another voice at the door inquired: 'Is any one
hidden here, Jack Fish?'
''Twas a fancy of mine to search the shanty. However, I might have
known those fugitives would not have ventured to stay here,' returned
Master Fish.
'Well, there is no place to hide in here, unless it be the cart.
Have you looked into that grass on it?'
'Aye, aye. I've poked about it rarely, but nothing bigger than a
mouse ran out of it.'
'Well, come on then, if there is nothing here,' cried the other
impatiently.
They left the shed, Jack Fish lingering a moment to close the door
and to say noisily to those within and those without, 'All right!
All right!'
We were still for the next ten minutes, which seemed an age; then Sir
Hubert said:
'He was a good old fellow yon, and I liked his hint about your
litter. It will be a fine thing indeed if we can find it on the high
road when we get there.'
'Yes indeed,' I said, 'and my servants too, which last is a matter of
more importance, for they are very dear to me.'
I had raised my head out of the grass, and was sitting up.
'Do you think I can get out of the cart now?' I asked.
'Not yet. Wait a little longer where you are. I will look round
outside;' and shaking off the grass sticking to him on all sides, Sir
Hubert proceeded to the door, at which he listened cautiously before
attempting to open it.
The next moment he stepped back quickly to his place in the corner,
saying, 'Some one is coming.'
Then he hid himself under the grass as before.
An old man entered, with a large two-pronged hay fork in his hand.
'They will have stolen my cart, I'll be bound!' he said aloud.
He looked suspiciously around, but gave a grunt of satisfaction upon
seeing the cart.
Approaching it, he was about to plunge his fork into the grass, when
Sir Hubert sprang up, caught hold of the tool and wrenched it from
his grasp.
'Your pardon, master,' said the knight hastily to the man. 'But I
have placed something in your cart which you might unwittingly have
damaged had you plunged your fork into it.'
'Cannot a man do as he likes in his own shed?' cried the old
countryman. 'And who art thou,' he demanded, 'and what business hast
thou here?'
'I am Sir Hubert Blair, of Harpton Hall, in Sussex. I was travelling
in these parts with but a few retainers, when I met with a lady and
her servants set upon by roughs and in danger of their lives. I
carried the lady on my own horse across the fields until a mischance
happened to my horse in leaping the last fence before we came to the
wood close by. He fell down on his knees, throwing us off; the lady
fainted and I carried her through the wood, and then in here. She is
in your cart.'
I sat up in the cart, smiling at the old farmer's astonishment.
'Well, well,' he said, leaning on his fork and looking hard at me.
'These are troublous times! Vagabonds roam the country, and we never
know what they will be up to, and a knight and a lady hide in an old
cart-shed. The King, God bless him, is young and not by any means
strong, but it is to be hoped he and Parliament will do something to
make the highways safer.'
'Did you see any signs of the ruffians as you came here?' asked Sir
Hubert.
'Nay, not I. But then I was not looking for them. I was thinking of
the new calf that came this morning. Do you not know, young sir,
that what we are thinking of, that is what we see?'
'Aye, aye.'
Sir Hubert looked at me, and I knew he was reflecting that he could
see little else for thinking of me and my unfortunate plight.
'It seems a sorry tale for a knight to be running away from low
country rabble,' muttered the old farmer.
Sir Hubert coloured.
'I feel ashamed of myself,' he said. 'But it was for the lady's
sake. How would it have been with her if I had been killed? I was
obliged to think of her precious life.'
'Well, well. I'm thinking you must both be pretty hungry. Will you
come with me to my house, where my wife shall give you food?'
This was too good an offer to be refused, and we thankfully accepted
it, and accompanied the old man to his farmhouse.
It was but a poor place, yet we were as glad to find ourselves in it,
with the door bolted to keep out vagrants, as if we were in a palace.
And very thankful we were to the farmer's wife when she placed milk
and meat before us. I felt almost ashamed of the wonderful appetite
I had; but indeed I was very, very hungry when I sat down to the
table.
Sir Hubert helped me to everything before he would touch food
himself, and I felt a wonderful happiness when his big, strong
hands--which had been bruised for me--were serving me. Sweet it was
to be so tenderly cared for by him, with words and manner showing the
most reverent esteem. I had never experienced aught like it before.
At home I was treated by my father as a child and by my brothers as
if I were one of themselves; the servants were more deferential, but
then they were poor folk, not like this fine gentleman, who seemed to
lift me higher than himself that he might look up to me with a sort
of loving worship. It was very delightful and very, very beautiful.
I felt ennobled.
Sir Hubert seemed to be extremely happy, and would like to have
lingered talking over the meal, but the old man grew uneasy and
fidgetty.
'It would well nigh ruin me,' he said, 'if those rascals who attacked
you should come over here and find you on my premises. They might
sack the house and possibly maltreat us too. My old woman is not
very strong, and there's a young serving-lass also. Of course I
don't mind for myself, but----'
'We will go,' I said, rising at once. 'You have been very kind, and
we should be sorry to bring you into trouble.'
Then I stopped short. Where could we go? It was all very well to
say we would depart, but we had not even Sir Hubert's horse to convey
us away. The knight aroused himself to look the situation in the
face. He seemed somewhat dazed, for the fact was, as he told me
afterwards, he had been so extraordinarily happy sitting at the same
table, ministering to my wants, and watching the colour return to my
face and the light to my eyes, that he had forgotten all else.
'Supposing I leave the lady here a little whilst I go to try and find
her coach?' he said to the farmer.
But the latter answered sharply, 'Nay, sir, nay. Thou art not going
to leave her on our hands, just to bring the wrath of the
country-side upon us----'
'If you go, Sir Knight, she must go too,' interrupted the old
farmer's wife. 'It is bad enough for us to have to shelter you both
when you are here to help to fight if the rascals come, but without
you! Why, they might string us up to the rafters, and leave us
hanging like dried herrings, as easy as anything. My old man has not
any fight in him, bless you! When he thought there was a thief in
the house the other night, he made me go first to look for him!'
'Well, well,' said the old man. 'I'm getting old, and am not much
stronger than thee, Susannah. But thou canst scream rarely, and 'tis
a weapon of a sort, which sometimes is unexpectedly powerful.'
Sir Hubert laughed. Then he turned to me, saying with rare
tenderness, 'I could not leave you, Mistress Margaret, with these
people. Will you come with me?'
I said I would, and indeed I felt as if I could go with him anywhere,
anywhere in the world, and he a knight whom half a dozen hours before
I had never seen.
'Come then,' he said, and after throwing some silver on the table to
pay for our meal, he offered me his arm, and we went out together
into the night, now fast coming on.
'The darkness is our friend,' said Sir Hubert, 'for it will hide us
from our enemies.'
'Yes,' returned I, with great content, for I had no fear of darkness
when he was by my side, holding me with his firm, strong arm.
And in my heart I prayed to our Father in heaven to protect us both
and bring us in safety out of all danger.