The Squire Posts Sentries--Sylvanus Arrests Tryphosa--Change of
Watchword--Nash Leads an Advance--The Cheek of Grinstuns--The
Hound--Guard-room Conversation--Incipient Fires Extinguished--The
Idiot Boy--Grinstun's Awful Cheek--The Lawyer and the Parson
Theologize--Coristine's Hands--Doctor and Miss Halbert.
The full strength of the garrison was twelve able-bodied men, of whom
five carried fowling pieces, one a blunderbuss, another a carbine,
another a rifle, and four were armed with pistols. The Squire was in
supreme command, and Mr. Nash was adjutant. They decided that the
garrison as a whole should go on guard for the night, that is, from ten
o'clock till six in the morning, a period of eight hours, making, as the
Captain put it, four watches of two hours each. Thus the remaining ten
were divided into two guards of five, and, as the morning guard, from
four to six, would probably not be required, it was determined to put
those who had most need of rest on the companion one from twelve to two.
These were Captain Thomas, the veteran Terry, the two parsons, with
Wilkinson, who was thrown in simply as a pistol man, the only other of
the kind being the lawyer. With ammunition in their pockets, or slung
round their shoulders, the first guard sallied forth under the Squire's
guidance. Coristine was left to watch the front of the house behind the
shrubbery bordering the fence, and keep up communication with Nash, who
patrolled the road on horseback. Ben Toner's station was the path
running parallel with the palings on the left of the garden, beyond
which was an open field, not altogether destitute of stumps. Silvanus
was posted on the edge of the meadow, at the back of the garden and
out-houses; and Timotheus, on the right of the stables and connected
buildings. Just where the beats of the brothers met, there was a little
clump of timber, the only point affording cover to an advancing enemy,
and to that post of honour and danger Rufus was appointed. Having
placed his men, the Squire returned to the guard-room, his office, and
ordered Tryphosa to bring refreshments for the guard, to which he added
a box of cigars. The guard discussed the cold ham, the cheese and
biscuits, and, in addition, Mr. Errol indulged in some diluted sherry,
Perrowne and Wilkinson in a glass of beer, and the Captain and the
veteran in a drop of whiskey and water. The Squire took a cigar with
those who smoked, but maintained his wakefulness on cold tea. Every half
hour he was out inspecting the sentries. Coristine had suggested that
the friendly answer to a challenge should be Bridesdale, but, lest the
enemy should hear this and take advantage of it, all suspicious persons
should be required also to give the countersign, Grinstuns. The dominie
sneered at him for the latter; but, when he saw his friend sally forth
with loaded pistol to the post of danger, his enmity died, and, rising,
he silently shook hands with him at the door. Returning to the
guard-room, he breathed a silent prayer for his friend's safety, and
then fortified his inner man with the fare provided. Conversation
accompanied the impromptu supper, and the subsequent cigar or pipe, at
first led by the divines, but afterwards taken clean out of their mouths
by the Captain and the veteran, who furnished exciting accounts of their
experience in critical situations.
The Squire had gone out for the second time to inspect the sentries. It
was eleven o'clock. Coristine, who was first visited, reported a sound
of voices at the back of the house, and Toner confirmed the report. The
commander-in-chief hastened to the gate leading into the hill meadow,
and perceived a figure struggling in the strong grasp of Sylvanus. The
sentinel's left arm was round the prisoner, and the gun was in his right
hand. As they came towards the gate, the Squire heard piteous entreaties
in a feminine voice to be let go, and the answer: "'Tain't no kind o'
use, Tryphosy, even ef ye was arter Timotheus an' not me; that ain't it,
at all. It's this: yer didn't say Bridesdale when I charlinged yer, nor
yer couldn't bar-sign Grinstuns. All suspicious carriters has got to be
took up, and, ef that ain't bein' a suspicious carriter, this mate on
the starn watch don't know what is. I'm rale sorry for yer, and I'm
sorry for Timotheus, but juty is juty and orders is strict. Come on,
now, and let us hope the Square'll be marciful."
"What is the meaning of this nonsense, Pilgrim?" asked the commander,
angrily.
"It's a suspicious carriter as can't give no account of itself, Square.
She might ha' been shot as like as not, ef I hadn't gone and took her
pris'ner."
"Let the girl alone, and don't make a laughing stock of yourself. You've
already said the passwords loud enough for any lurker to hear, so that
we'll hae to change them aa because o' your stupeedity. Be serious and
keep your eyes and gun for strange folk, men or women."
Tryphosa fled into the house, whither Tryphena--who, falling into the
same error, had crossed the beat of Timotheus--had already betaken
herself, being driven off the field by the more sensible and merciful
younger Pilgrim. When the Squire had completed his rounds, he returned
to the guard-room, and, telling the story of Sylvanus' folly, which
roused the Captain's ire, showed the necessity for new watchwords and
better instruction of sentries.
"It maun be something the lads and all the rest o' us ken weel, Squire.
What think ye o' Cricket and Golf?" asked Mr. Errol.
"I am afraid that Ben Toner might not know these words," put in the
dominie.
"What?" cried Mr. Perrowne, "do you really mean to say that
this--ah--Towner needs to be towld what cricket is?"
"I fear so," Wilkinson answered; with the effect that no heathen could
have fallen lower in the parson's estimation than did Ben.
"I say good, ship-shape words are Starbud and Port," growled the
Captain.
"In Sout Ameriky it was Constituthion and Libertad," suggested Mr.
Terry.
"Pork and Beans 'll no' do; nor Burdock and Blood Bitters; nor Powder
and Shot," said the Squire, ruminating; "for the one ca's up the tither
ower nayteral like. What say ye, Maister Wilkinson?"
Wilkinson was taken aback by the suddenness of the question, and blurted
out what had been only too much in his thoughts; "Idiot and Boy."
"Capital!" "Well said!" "The very thing!" "Jest suits Sylvanus!" the
various voices responded; and the Squire went out to the sentries to
make the desired change. The lawyer chuckled when he received the new
words, and all the other sentinels repeated to themselves the poetic
terms "Eejut and Boy."
It was just on the stroke of midnight, time to relieve the guards, when
the distant sound of pistol shots in rapid succession fell
simultaneously on the ears of Coristine, Ben and Sylvanus. The lawyer,
stepping hastily to the house, called out the armed inmates, and in
another minute or so Nash came galloping up. "Stay where you are,
Squire, with your sentries; and, you other men, look to your loading and
come on with me. I've been fired at by a waggon load of them." The five
unposted men hastened out into the road and away after the detective to
the left. After going a short distance, the adjutant called a halt, and
told the veteran to advance in military order. "Now, min," said Mr.
Terry quietly, "extind about tin paces from aich another to the lift,
an' Oi'll be the lifthand man. Thin kape wan eye on me an' the other
before yeez, and advance whin Oi advance undher cover av the stumps and
finces and things. Riddy now--extind!" The movement was well executed,
and, as the veteran was eager for the fray, he led them more rapidly
than it could be thought the old man had the power to run, until they
reached the spot where the waggon had halted. It was gone, without a
sign; so the gallant skirmishers re-formed in the road and marched back
to quarters. When they arrived at the gate, Coristine could not resist
the temptation of a challenge, unnecessary as it was. The dominie was
leading, and him he hailed: "Who goes there?" With momentary hesitation,
Wilkinson answered in the same undertone:--
"Friends."
"The word, friends?"
"Idiot."
"The countersign, Idiot?"
"Boy."
"Pass, Idiot Boy, and all's well!"
The schoolmaster could have boxed that sentry's ears, have slapped his
face, have caned him within an inch of his life; for there was a light
in an upper window, and he knew that bright eyes were looking down
through the slats of the closed green shutters, and that sharp ears had
caught the sound of the obnoxious words. He could detect the accents of
a voice, which he knew so well, pleading the cause of silence with
another that trembled with suppressed laughter as it made ineffectual
promises to be quiet. The two clergymen also heard the friendly
altercation at the window, so still was everything else, and chuckled as
they filed past the legal sentry, now on the broad grin. The Captain and
Mr. Terry were above taking notice of such trifles, for they were
eagerly persuading each other to take just the least drop before going
out into the heavy night dews. No sooner had the five entered the
guard-room than the Squire re-formed them and marched them off to
relieve the old sentries. The lawyer's place was taken by the dominie,
Toner's by the Captain, that of Sylvanus by Perrowne, that of Timotheus
by Errol, and Rufus' post of honour by the veteran, who would accept no
other. There was a sixth guard in the person of Muggins, who kept his
master company and behaved with the greatest propriety and silence.
Sylvanus and Timotheus, Rufus and Ben had a separate guard-house of
their own in the kitchen, where Mrs. Carmichael, who could not sleep
because of her apprehensions of evil to some unknown defender, furnished
them with bread and cheese and innocuous hot elderberry wine and cold
cider. After partaking plentifully of the refreshments, Sylvanus and Ben
lit their pipes, and the latter communicated to the company the story of
his woes in the case of Serlizer. Sylvanus related his adventure in
capturing Tryphosa, which caused Timotheus to move into a corner with
Rufus and declare solemnly and in a low tone, that "Ef Sylvanus warn't
my brother and older'n me, and the next thing t' engaged to Trypheeny,
I'd be shaved an' shampooed ef I wouldn't bust his old cocoanut open."
Rufus, however, replied that girls had no business to be about in war
times, unless it was to nurse the sick and wounded, which was only done
in hospitals, thus justifying Sylvanus' action as a pure matter of
military duty, and reconciling Timotheus to the slight put upon his lady
love.
The Squire and Coristine were alone in the guard-room, save when Mrs.
Carmichael put her head in to ask after the welfare of the party,
especially of the older members.
"Grandfather knows campaigning and can take care of himself," the Squire
answered; "and the Captain's used to out-door life; but there's the
minister now, puir man! Weel, weel, Marjorie, when I gang the roonds,
I'll see if he needs onything."
Then the pair chatted away, chiefly about the Grinstun man, whom
Carruthers came to regard in the light of a spy. Though surrounded on
every side by suspicious circumstances, there was nothing definite
against him, the nearest evidence to a conviction being the geological
or mineralogical expressions which the unguarded dilapidated farmer on
the way to the Beaver River had coupled with his name, and his own
admissions to the spurious Miss Du Plessis.
"Maister Coristine," said the Squire, "gin I thocht yon deevil, seein'
it's Monday mornin' the noo, was at the foondation o' this ploy, I'd
think naething o' spendin' five thoosand to pit an end til's tricks."
"All right, Squire; I think I'll go into criminal law, and work it up
for you."
"What's yon? I maun gang out, for I hear Mr. Wilkinson calling me."
The lawyer accompanied him to the door. Nash was at the gate to report
that he had seen small parties and single individuals, some distance off
the road on both sides of the house, whose actions were more than
suspicious. Had they carried firearms larger than pistols he would have
been sure to detect the gleam of steel. He was sorry now he had drawn
the fire of the waggon on himself, and thus given the miscreants to
understand that their plot was known. Still, they were at it, and meant
mischief. As he could do no further good patrolling the road, he would
put up his horse, and help the Squire to guard the house and
outbuildings. Hardly was his horse in the stable, and himself in the
guard-room, than Mr. Errol's voice, and then the dominie's, were heard
challenging loudly. The Squire flew to the minister, and Nash to
Wilkinson. A stout but elastic figure, so far as the step went, was
coming along the road from the right, whistling "The Girl I left behind
Me." As it came near, the whistling stopped, and Rawdon, with knapsack
on back and staff in hand, appeared before the astonished eyes of the
sentinels. He started at the sight of the minister's carbine. "Wy, Mr.
Herl," he said, "wot the dooce are you a doin' of at this time o' night?
Are you lookin' for night 'awks or howls hafter the chickins, or did you
think I was a wistlin' bear. And you too, Squire! I thought the Hinjins
was all killed bout. Blowed if there haint hold Favosites Wilkinsonia,
and a man as looks like Chisholm! Are you campin' out, 'avin' summer
midnight manoovers for the fun o' the thing?"
Nash went back to the house. "If it's a fair question, Mr. Rawdon," said
the Squire, "where are you going at this time of night?"
"Fair enough, Squire; I'm bound for Collinwood to ketch the mornin'
train. Bye, bye! no time to lose." Off trudged the Grinstun man, once
more whistling, but this time his tune was "It's no use a knockin' at
the door."
The Squire, the detective, and the lawyer held a council of war.
"Pity we hadn't arrested that chap," remarked Mr. Nash.
"Couldn't do it," said Coristine; "there is no warrant for his arrest,
no definite charge against him. A justice of the peace can't issue one
on mere suspicion, nor can he institute martial law, which would of
course cover the case."
"If what Maister Nash has seen be as he thinks," added the Squire, "it's
as weel we laid nae han' on him, for it would just hae preceepitated
metters, and hae brocht the haill o' thae Lake Settlement deevils doon
upon us. D'ye think Rawdon's gaun to Collingwood, Nash?"
"Not a bit of it. I believe he came past here, openly and dressed as he
was, for three reasons. First, he wants to prove an alibi for himself,
whatever happens. Second, he wanted to see how we are guarded, and by
that loud whistling has informed his confederates not far off that it is
useless to try the house from the front. Thirdly, he has circled round
to take command of the villains that fired on me out of the waggon we
couldn't find."
"What's to be done then?" asked the Squire and the lawyer in a breath.
"We must watch the means of access from the left to the right. You see,
there are bushes, young willows and alders, all along the bank of the
creek, behind which they can steal towards that ferny hollow under the
birches, and, from thence, either make for the bit of bush Mr. Terry is
guarding, or creep behind the scattered boulders towards the fence. Your
shrubberies about the house and live hedges and little meadow copses are
very pretty and picturesque, Squire, but a bare house on the top of a
treeless hill would be infinitely better to stand a siege."
"Aye, aye, Nash; but I'm no gaun tae cut doon my bonnie trees an' busses
for a wheen murderin' vagabones."
"Well, I'll get a gun from one of the men in the kitchen, and explore
the hillside below the Captain."
Having secured Ben Toner's gun, the best of the lot, the detective
walked down the garden to the gate, where he found Perrowne vainly
endeavouring to comfort Muggins. The poor dog did not even whine, but
shivered as he stood, otherwise paralyzed with abject terror.
"Crouch down by the fence," whispered the detective in the parson's ear,
and at once crouched down beside him.
"Do you see that moving object coming up the hill from the birches? By
Jove! there's another crawling behind it. What is it?"
"It's an animal of some sawrt," answered Perrowne.
"That accounts for your dog's fear. It isn't a bear, is it? There may be
some about after early berries."
"Now, it's not a bear, though I've been towld dawgs are very much afraid
of bears."
Just then the animal keeled over, and immediately there followed the
report of a rifle. The crawler behind the beast slid back into the
hollow and disappeared. Then, from the left of the house came a volley
that woke the echoes all round; it was the explosion of the Captain's
blunderbuss. The detective ran along the fence to Mr. Terry's beat, and
found the veteran reloading his rifle from the muzzle. "Keep your post,
Mr. Terry," he cried, "while I run and see what it is you have bagged. I
imagine your son-in-law will look after the Captain." Mr. Nash ran down
the hill, closely followed by the lawyer, who had come out to see the
fun. All the bedroom windows were lit up, and eager eyes strained to
learn the cause of the firing, while the remaining sentinels prepared
for action. The animal shot was a large bloodhound, in life a dangerous
brute with horrid, cruel-looking fangs, but now in the agonies of death.
The detective drew his long dagger-like knife, and drove it into the
creature's heart. Then, while Coristine lifted it by the two hind legs,
he took a grasp of its collar, and they carried the trophy of the
veteran's rifle on to the lawn in front of the house. There they learned
that the Captain, being half asleep with no chance of an enemy in sight,
dreamt his ship had been saluted coming into port on a holiday, and, as
in duty bound, returned the salute. The blunderbuss had not exploded; it
always made that grand, booming, rattling, diffusive sort of a report.
The dead hound's collar was examined, and was discovered to bear the
initials A.R. "Who is A.R.?" asked the Squire; and Mr. Nash replied: "He
is no doubt my affianced bridegroom, Haltamont Rawdon."
It was two o'clock in the morning; so the guard was relieved, and the
former sentries returned to their posts; but the Squire noticed, with a
frown, that, just as the relief arrived at Mr. Errol's beat, a female
form clothed in black darted round the stables towards the kitchen door.
Also, he saw that the minister had a most unmilitary muffler, in the
shape of a lady's cloud, round his neck, which he certainly had not when
he went on duty. His high respect for the reverend gentleman hindered
any outward expression of his combined amusement and annoyance. Muggins
came back with Mr. Perrowne, but obstinately refused to go near the dead
hound.
"Do you think he has ever seen it before?" asked the detective.
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," replied the clergyman.
"I lawst Muggins, you know, at Tossorontio, and there was a man there at
the time, a short man in a pea-jacket or cowt, down't you know, who had
a big dawg. When Muggins disappeared, I thought the big dawg might have
killed him. But now I think the man with the pea-cowt saved him from the
big dawg, and that's how Muggins came to gow after him. What do you
imagine that beast was after, coming up the hill towards Muggins?"
"I think he was coming to overpower you, Mr. Perrowne, and bring all
our forces to your aid, while the fellow behind him slipped in and fired
the house or did some similar mischief."
"I tell you, Mr. Nash, he'd have had my two barrels first, and I'm a
pretty fair shot, down't you know? But, look here, it's dry work
mounting guard, sow I'll have another pull at the tankard."
The Squire came in from guard mounting, somewhat fatigued. He had been
on the stretch mentally and physically ever since the Captain's arrival.
"You had better go to bed, grandfather, and take Thomas with you," he
said to the veteran.
"Not a wink this blissid noight, Squoire," replied Mr. Terry, "the smill
av the powther has put new loife into my owld carcash. The Captin can go
iv he plazes."
"Avast, there! I say, messmate," growled Captain Thomas, "I don't run
this mill, but my youngster's here under hatches, and I'm a goin' to
keep watch on, watch off along of any other man. I don't think that o'
yours is half up to the mark, Mr. Terry."
"Oi was thinkin' I was a bit wake mysilf," replied the old soldier,
filling up his glass, and handing the decanter to his neighbour, who
likewise improved the occasion.
"Oi'm suppawsin now, sorr," continued the veteran, addressing the
dominie, "that this is yer first apparance on shintry."
"You are right, Mr. Terry, in your supposition."
"An', sorr, it's a cridit to yeez to be shtandin' an' facin' the inimy
wid divel a thing in yer hand but a pishtil. Oi moind a big sthrappin'
liftinant av ours was called Breasel, an' sid he was discinded from the
great Breasel Breck av Oirish hishtry. Wan noight he was slapin', whin
four nagurs av Injuns kim into his tint, an' picked the sword an'
pishtils and the unifarm aff the bid he was on. Thin he woke up, an' him
havin' sorra a thing to difind himself wid but a good Oirish tongue in
his hid. But it's Tipperary the liftinant foired at the haythens, an' it
moight ha' been grape an' canister, for they dhropped the plundher and
run for loife, all but wan that got howlt av an anhevis drawin' plashter
the liftinant had for a bile an the back av his neck, an' wasn't usin'
at the toime. Someways the plashter got on to his nakid chist an'
gripped him, an' he was that wake wid froight, the other nagurs had to
carry him away. Afther that the Injuns called Breasel by the name of
Shupay, a worrud that in their spache manes the divil--savin' yer
prisence, Mishter Wilkinson."
"One time the _Susan Thomas_ was at Belle Ewart loadin' on lumber,"
growled the Captain. "Sylvanus heerd as how the Mushrats, that's the
folks acrost on t'other side of the bay, was a comin' over to fasten him
and me down in the hold and paint the schooner. They was a goin' to
paint her The Spotted Dog, than which there's no meaner kind o' fish.
So, I bid Sylvanus pile a great heap of useless, green, heavy, barky
slabs on top o' the good lumber; then we took the occasion of a little
wind, and stood her out to anchor a little ways from the dock. Sure
enough, when night come, the Mushrats came a hollerin' aand yellin'.
Unfortnitly I'd left the salutin' blunderbuss here at home, and hadn't
but one pike-pole aboard. 'How many boat loads of 'em is there,
Sylvanus?' I says. 'Two,' says he. 'All right,' says I, 'that's one
apiece. Take off your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeves, Sylvanus,'
says I, 'for you're a goin' to have heavy work slab heavin'!' On they
come to board us, one on each side. 'Fire out them or'nary useless
slabs, Sylvanus,' says I. 'But there's a boat with a lot of men in it,'
says he, a-chucklin' like an ijut. Hope I haven't given the pass word
away, John? Well, I said: 'Fire out the slabs, and let the men get out
o' the way.' And he began firing, and I kept my side a-goin', and the
slabs fell flat and heavy and fast, knockin' six at a shot, till they
cussed and swore, and hollered and yelled murder, and that was the last
we two saw of the Mushrats and the paintin' of the _Susan Thomas_."
Subdued but hearty laughter followed these stories, and, when the
Captain ended, the veteran pushed the decanter towards him, remarking:
"A good shtory is a foine thing, Captin, dear, but it makes ye just a
throifle dhroy." The Captain responded, and told Mr. Terry that he was
neglecting himself, an omission which that gentleman proceeded to
rectify. Mr. Errol, with his muffling cloud still round his neck, was
asleep in an easy chair. In his sleep he dreamt, the dream ending in an
audible smack of his lips, and the exclamation "Very many thanks, ma'am;
the toddy's warm and comforting." When his own voice aroused him, he was
astonished to witness the extreme mirth of all parties, and was hardly
convinced when it was attributed to the stories of the veteran and the
Captain. The Squire, though amused, was resolved to have a word with his
widowed sister.
The lawyer paced up and down in the cool night, trying to combine two
things which do not necessarily go together, warmth and wakefulness.
Everything was so quiet, that he seemed to hear Timotheus and Sylvanus
pacing about rapidly like himself, when suddenly a little spark of fire
appeared at the far end of the verandah towards the stables. Cautiously,
under cover of bushes he approached the spot, but saw nothing, although
he smelt fire. Then he knelt down and peered under the flower laden
structure. The light was there, growing. In a moment it became a flame,
and, as he rushed to the spot, a lad fell into his arms. Clutching his
collar with his left hand in spite of kicks and scratches, he hauled his
prisoner back to the verandah, and, thrusting in his right arm beneath
the floor, drew out the blazing rags and threw them on the gravel walk
or on the grass until he was sure that not one remained. Some watcher at
the front window had alarmed the guard-room, for out tumbled its
occupants, and the lad was secured by Nash, and handed over to the
Captain and Mr. Errol. Calling to Toner to keep an eye on the whole
front, the detective, taking in the situation, hastened to the stables
along with the lawyer, while the Squire and Mr. Perrowne went round the
back way on the same errand. No guard was visible, and there was fire in
two places, both happily outside sheds, one abutting on the garden
fence, the other farther to the right. The Squire went for water-pails,
while Nash and the veteran followed the course of the incendiaries
towards the bush guarded by Rufus. But the lawyer and the parson,
seizing stout poles, which were apparently Tryphena's clothes props,
knocked the blazing sheds to pieces with them, and scattered the burning
boards over the ground. Before the water came, the report of a rifle, a
fowling piece, and of several pistol shots, rang through the air. No
more signs of fire were discovered, so the water was poured upon the
still burning boards, and the firemen waited for the report of the
pursuers. While thus waiting, they heard a groan, and, going to the
place whence it proceeded, discovered Timotheus, with a gag plaster on
his mouth and an ugly wound on the back of his head, lying close to the
garden fence below the fired shed. Some water on his face revived him,
and at the same time moistened the plaster, but as it would not come
off, Coristine cut it open with his penknife between the lips of the
sufferer. Even then he could hardly articulate, yet managed to ask if
all was safe and to thank his deliverers. He was helped into the house,
and delivered over to the awakened and dressed Tryphena and Tryphosa,
the latter behaving very badly and laughing in a most unfeeling way at
the comical appearance cut by her humble swain. When Tryphena removed
the plaster, and Tryphosa, returning to duty with an effort, bathed his
head, the wounded sentry felt almost himself again, and guaised he must
ha' looked a purty queer pictur. Soon after, Rufus staggered into the
kitchen in a similar condition, and his affectionate sisters had to turn
their attention to the Baby. These were all the casualties on the part
of the garrison, and, overpowered though the two sentries had been,
their arms had not been taken by the enemy.
The Squire went forward to see after the welfare of his father-in-law,
and found Mr. Terry carrying his own rifle and the gun of Sylvanus,
while the said Pilgrim helped the detective to carry a groaning mass of
humanity towards the kitchen hospital.
"Oi tuk my man this toime, Squire," said Mr. Terry, gleefully; "Oi wuz
marciful wid the crathur and aimed for the legs av' im. It's a foine
nate little howl this swate roifle has dhrilled in his shkin, an' niver
a bone shplit nor a big blood vissel tapped, glory be, say Oi!"
It appeared, on examination of the parties, that Ben Toner and Sylvanus
had indulged in a prolonged talk at the point where their beats met,
during which a party of six, including the two prisoners, creeping up
silently through the bush, prostrated Rufus with the blow of a bludgeon
on the back of the head. Then, they advanced and repeated the operation
on Timotheus, after which three of them, with cotton cloths soaked in
oil, fired the sheds and the verandah. But for the lawyer's discovery of
the spark under the latter, the fire might have been beyond control in a
few minutes, and the end of the murderous gang accomplished. The whole
household was roused; indeed, save in the case of the children, it can
hardly be said to have been asleep. Mrs. Carruthers descended, and,
sending Tryphosa to look after her young family, helped her father to
bind up the wound of the grizzled incendiary, who refused to give any
account of himself. "I know him," said the detective to the Squire; "his
name is Newcome and he's a bad lot." Soon the Captain and Mr. Errol
brought their prisoner in. The hospital and guard-room was the winter
kitchen of the house, a spacious apartment almost unused during the
summer months. When the lad was brought into it, he seemed to recognize
the place with his dull big grey eyes, and spoke the first words he had
uttered since his capture. "Bread and meat for Monty." "Why," said
Tryphena, "it's the ijut boy." "So it is," ejaculated Mrs. Carruthers,
"What is your name, Monty?" With an idiotic smile on his face, but no
light in those poor eyes, he answered: "Monty Rawn, and mother's in the
water place." Mrs. Carruthers explained that the lad had been often in
the kitchen in winter, and that she had told Tryphena to feed him well
and be kind to him, so that it is no wonder he recognized the scene of
his former enjoyment. "Puir laddie," said the Squire, "he's no'
responsible, but the born deevil that set him on should be hanged,
drawn, and quartered."
"Squire," answered Mr. Errol, "I'm aye on the side o' maircy, but to yon
I say Amen."
"Come, come!" Carruthers cried hastily, regaining his natural speech;
"we must take off these haverals, Sylvanus and Toner, and bring them in
to guard the prisoners. They are not fit for sentry duty." Leaving the
Captain and the veteran as temporary guards, he sallied forth, followed
by the lawyer and the two parsons.
To the Squire's great delight, he found the dominie walking up and down
the front of the house, humming "A charge to keep I have." "Mr.
Wilkinson," he said, "you're a pairfec' treasure," and that so loud
that the schoolmaster was sure it was heard by the occupants of the
window over the porch. He marched along with redoubled pride and
devotion. Mr. Perrowne took Toner's place, and the lawyer that of
Sylvanus. Carruthers marched the two haverals to the kitchen, and placed
the prisoners in their charge, after roundly abusing them for talking on
guard. This set free the Captain and Mr. Terry, who were posted together
by the outbuildings, although the veteran was very anxious to go down to
the bush for the purpose of potting the Lake Settlement haythens. There
being no post for the minister, he was appointed hospital chaplain and
commander of the prisoners' guard. Mr. Nash, carrying Ben's gun, was
investigating the strip of bush and the clump of birches down the hill
for traces of the enemy. While so doing, two pistol bullets flew past
his head and compelled him to seek the cover of a tree trunk. Finding he
could do nothing in the imperfect light, he retired gradually towards
the sentries, and aided them in their weary watch. At length, as
daylight was coming in, and affording a pretext for the fair occupants
of the front room, whose windows hailed the beams of the rising sun, to
leave their seclusion and mingle with the wakeful ones below, the sound
of wheels was heard coming along the road to the left. Hurriedly, the
detective became Mr. Chisholm, and joined the dominie at the gate. There
were three men in the waggon, and one of them was the Grinstun man, as
cheerful as ever. What was in the waggon could not be seen, as it was
covered over with buffalo robes and tarpaulin, but the detective could
have sworn he saw it move, and give forth a sound not unlike a groan.
Mr. Rawdon jumped down, telling a certain Jones of truculent countenance
to drive on, as he guessed he'd walk the rest of the way this fine
morning. The waggon drove off accordingly and at a rapid rate, while the
working geologist accosted the sentinels.
"Wy, wot's hup 'ere, gents? 'Ere you hare on guard yet, and Jones there
terls me 'ee 'eard shots fired has 'ee was comin' along slowly. I 'ope
there hain't no gang o' city burglars bin tryin' hany o' their larks on
the Squire. We don't want none o' that sort hout in rural parts."
The dominie and the detective declined to satisfy him, but the former
said:--
"I thought you had pressing business at Collingwood, Mr. Rawdon?"
"So I 'ad, and stand to lose two or three 'undred dollars by missin' the
mornin' train. But, wen I got quite a step on the road, all of a sudding
I remembers my hoffer to Miss Do Please-us, and 'er hanswer as was to be
hat the Post Hoffice before ten. So I turned back, hand, lucky for me,
fell in with Jones and 'is man takin' 'ome some things from town. But,
come! tell a man can't you? 'As there bin any burglary or hanythink, any
haccident, anybody 'urt? I've got an hour and more to spare, if I can be
of any 'elp."
"I don't think we need trouble you, Rawdon," said the false Chisholm.
"Your suspicions are correct so far, that an attempt has been made to
fire the Squire's house, but by whom is a mystery, for there is no man
more respected in the neighbourhood."
"Respected! I should say 'ee is. Fire 'is 'ouse! O Lor'! wot a bloomin'
shame! Really, I must go him, if it's honly for a hinstant to hexpress
my feelins of hindignation to the Carrutherses."
The Grinstun man entered the gate, which was just what the detective did
not want. However, he held it open for him, saying: "You'll find the
Squire in his office talking to Nash, but I don't suppose he'll mind
being interrupted for a minute. Mrs. Carruthers is in the kitchen, and
you'll likely meet an old acquaintance of yours there, Mr. Perrowne of
Tossorontio."
Rawdon drew back. Nash he knew: Mr. Perrowne, of Tossorontio, he did
not; but the unknown to men of his stamp is often more dreaded than the
known. He wouldn't intrude upon his friends just now, while everything
must be upset. Playfully, he asked Favosites Wilkinsonia to remind Miss
Do Please-us of that hoffer and the hanswer before ten, and straightway
resumed his journey in the direction of the Lake Settlement.
"Of all the impudent blackguards that I have met in the course of my
experience, that fellow takes the cake," said the detective, removing
his disguise.
"What about Jones and the waggon?" asked the dominie.
"The waggon is the one I saw when patrolling. Jones and his man are two
of the ruffians who were in it. Old Newcome, here, is a third. The
boy--by-the-bye, what a wonderful inspiration that was of yours to give
us Idiot and Boy for passwords--well, the boy must have come from some
other quarter. But there's either one or two wounded men under these
buffaloes and bits of canvas, for I hit one in the waggon and sent the
contents of Ben's gun after another down the hill. They both squealed.
Men of that kind almost always squeal when they're hit. The impudence of
that fellow Rawdon! Pon't forget Miss Du Plessis' letter; that's our
card now. Never in all my life have I met with such colossal cheek!"
The Squire came out and dismissed the guard. The parson and the lawyer
strolled in together after Wilkinson and Nash. Coristine remarked "The
sunshine is a glorious birth, as my friend Wilkinson would say."
"Yes," answered Perrowne; "it brings to memory one verse of Holy Writ:
'Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to
behold the sun.' The words are very simple, but beautiful in their
simplicity. People are apt to say there's no dogma in them, and that's
why they are so acceptable to all. But that's a mistake. They contain a
double dogma; for they make a dogmatic statement about light, and
another about the relation of the sun to the human eye. In the Church we
down't get much training in dogma, outside of the dogma of the Church,
and a little in the Articles and the Catechism. Sow Mr. Enrol often
flores me with his texts. But I down't bear him any malice, you know,
nor any malice to dogma, so long as it's the dogma of the Holy
Scriptures; because that is just like the verse I quoted, it says what
is true of a thing in itself, or in its relation to man. To reject that
sort of dogma is to reject the truth."
"Still," replied the lawyer, "a man in a burning desert, or who had been
sunstruck, might curse the sun."
"Very true; but you know how wrong is the motto _ex uno disce omnes_.
Believe that, and we are all scoundrels, because your Grinstun man was
once under this roof."
"There are, however, many ecclesiastical dogmas professedly taken from
the Bible, against which good men, and earnest seekers after truth,
rebel."
"Of course! Mr. Errol says--I do wish he were a Churchman, he is such a
thoughtful, clever fellow--he says prejudice, imperfect induction, a
wrong application of deductive logic, and one-sided interpretation,
down't you know, literal, figurative, and all that sort of thing, are
causes of false dogmatic assertions."
"My friend Wilkinson, who is a long way past me in these matters, thinks
the dogmatists forget that Revelation was a gradual thing, that the ages
it came to were like classes in a graded school, and each class got only
as much as it could understand, both mentally and morally; and as, of
course, it was able to express."
"Yes; Errol says the same, but with exceptions; because the prophets
said a whowle lot of things they didn't understand. But, my dear fellow,
whatever is the matter with your hands and face? You're burnt, you pore
sowl, and never said a word about it. Come on here, I saye; come on!"
Mr. Perrowne laid hold on the lawyer's arm, and dragged him into the
hall. "Miss Marjorie!" he called; "hi! Miss Carmichael, come along here,
quick, I beg of you, please." The lady invoked came running out of the
breakfast room, looking very pretty in her fright. "Look here, Miss
Marjorie, at our pore friend's hands and face, all got by saving you
ladies from being burnt alive."
Miss Carmichael exhibited great concern, and took the patient, who
insisted his wounds were nothing to make a fuss over, into the work
room, setting him down, with the pressure of her two hands on his broad
shoulders, in a comfortable chair between a sewing machine and a small
table. Then she brought warm water, and sponged the hands, anointed the
wounds with some home-made preparation, and clothed them in a pair of
her uncle's kid gloves, which were so large and baggy that she had to
sit down and laugh at her victim, who felt very happy and very foolish.
Finally she found that Mr. Errol, whose hands were more shapely, had an
old pair of gloves in his pocket. So the Squire's were taken off, and
the discovery made that the hands needed more washing, soaping, and
anointing. Coristine said his ring, a very handsome one, hurt him;
would Miss Carmichael please take it off and keep it for him? Miss
Carmichael removed the obnoxious ring, and did not know where to put it,
but, in the meantime, to prevent its being lost, slipped it on to one of
her own fingers, which almost paralyzed the lawyer with joy. He could
have sat there forever; but the gong sounded for prayers, and he
accompanied his nurse into the dining-room. There the whole household
was assembled, even to the idiot Monty, with the exception of Tryphena,
engaged in culinary duties, and Sylvanus, who mounted guard over the
wounded Newcome. Ben Toner also was absent, having ridden off to summon
Dr. Halbert. Mr. Perrowne, at the Squire's request, read the chapter for
the day, and the minister offered a prayer, brief but fervent, returning
thanks for the deliverance of the past night, and imploring help in
every time of need, after which the entire company, Mr. Terry included,
joined in the Lord's Prayer. Adjourning to the breakfast room, the
events of the night were discussed over the porridge, the hot rolls and
coffee and the other good things provided. Mr. Terry had been induced to
desert the kitchen for once, and he and Coristine were the heroes of the
hour. The lawyer put in a good word for the parson, and the Squire for
Wilkinson, so that Miss Du Plessis and the other ladies were compelled
to smile on both gentlemen. While the dominie blushed, the Captain
settled his eye on him. "I told him when he was aboard the _Susan
Thomas_ that, with all his innercent sort of looks, he was a sly dog,
with his questions about an old man's pretty niece. I knowed I'd see him
in Flanders makin' up to the gals, the sly dog! Got set down right beam
on to their weather ports every time, even when he wasn't told to go on
watch at all, the sly dog. Wilkison is his name; it'll be Will-kiss-em
some day, ha! ha! ha! the sly dog!"
The schoolmaster was dreadfully uncomfortable, and his lady teacher
hardly less so. It was a blessed relief when a buggy drove up to the
gate, and Mrs. Carruthers, having left her sister-in-law in charge while
she went out to meet its occupants, returned shortly with the doctor and
his blooming daughter, who, as a friend of the family, insisted on
accompanying him to offer her services if she could be of help.
"Come, Doctor!" said the Squire, rising with the rest of the party to
greet him and his companion; "the patients are in no immediate danger,
so you and Miss Fanny must sit down and help us with breakfast."
Miss Fanny was nothing loath to do so, after an invigorating drive, and
in the company of such a number of eligible bachelors as was rarely seen
in Flanders. She had a word for Mr. Errol, for the detective, for the
lawyer and the dominie, but to Wilkinson's great relief she finally
pitched upon Mr. Perrowne and held him captive. Then Wilkinson improved
the time with Miss Du Plessis, using as his excuse the letter or note
she was to send to Rawdon declining his offer for the present, which the
schoolmaster expressed his desire personally to take to the office.
Breakfast over, the doctor inspected his patients, Newcome, Rufus, and
Timotheus. The two latter he dismissed as all the better of a little
blood letting, recommending lots of cold water applied externally. The
case of the incendiary was more serious, but not likely to be fatal.