"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his
life for his friends."--JOHN XV. 13.
Twenty and odd years later the Grey Goose was still alive, and in full
possession of her faculties, such as they were. She lived slowly and
carefully, and she lived long. So did Miss Jessamine; but the General
was dead.
He had lived on the Green for many years, during which he and the
Postman saluted each other with a punctiliousness that it almost
drilled one to witness. He would have completely spoiled Jackanapes if
Miss Jessamine's conscience would have let him; otherwise he somewhat
dragooned his neighbors, and was as positive about parish matters as a
ratepayer about the army. A stormy-tempered, tender-hearted soldier,
irritable with the suffering of wounds of which he never spoke, whom
all the village followed to his grave with tears.
The General's death was a great shock to Miss Jessamine, and her
nephew stayed with her for some little time after the funeral. Then he
was obliged to join his regiment, which was ordered abroad.
One effect of the conquest which the General had gained over the
affections of the village, was a considerable abatement of the popular
prejudice against "the military." Indeed the village was now somewhat
importantly represented in the army. There was the General himself,
and the Postman, and the Black Captain's tablet in the church, and
Jackanapes, and Tony Johnson, and a Trumpeter.
[Illustration]
Tony Johnson had no more natural taste for fighting than for riding,
but he was as devoted as ever to Jackanapes, and that was how it came
about that Mr. Johnson bought him a commission in the same cavalry
regiment that the General's grandson (whose commission had been given
him by the Iron Duke) was in, and that he was quite content to be the
butt of the mess where Jackanapes was the hero; and that when
Jackanapes wrote home to Miss Jessamine, Tony wrote with the same
purpose to his mother; namely, to demand her congratulations that they
were on active service at last, and were ordered to the front. And he
added a postscript to the effect that she could have no idea how
popular Jackanapes was, nor how splendidly he rode the wonderful red
charger whom he had named after his old friend Lollo.
* * * * *
"Sound Retire!"
A Boy Trumpeter, grave with the weight of responsibilities and
accoutrements beyond his years, and stained, so that his own mother
would not have known him, with the sweat and dust of battle, did as he
was bid; and then pushing his trumpet pettishly aside, adjusted his
weary legs for the hundredth time to the horse which was a world too
big for him, and muttering, "'Tain't a pretty tune," tried to see
something of this, his first engagement, before it came to an end.
Being literally in the thick of it, he could hardly have seen less or
known less of what happened in that particular skirmish if he had been
at home in England. For many good reasons; including dust and smoke,
and that what attention he dared distract from his commanding officer
was pretty well absorbed by keeping his hard-mouthed troop-horse in
hand, under pain of execration by his neighbors in the mêlée.
By-and-by, when the newspapers came out, if he could get a look at one
before it was thumbed to bits, he would learn that the enemy had
appeared from ambush in overwhelming numbers, and that orders had been
given to fall back, which was done slowly and in good order, the men
fighting as they retired.
Born and bred on the Goose Green, the youngest of Mr. Johnson's
gardener's numerous off-spring, the boy had given his family "no
peace" till they let him "go for a soldier" with Master Tony and
Master Jackanapes. They consented at last, with more tears than they
shed when an elder son was sent to jail for poaching, and the boy was
perfectly happy in his life, and full of _esprit de corps_. It was
this which had been wounded by having to sound retreat for "the young
gentlemen's regiment," the first time he served with it before the
enemy, and he was also harassed by having completely lost sight of
Master Tony. There had been some hard fighting before the backward
movement began, and he had caught sight of him once, but not since. On
the other hand, all the pulses of his village pride had been stirred
by one or two visions of Master Jackanapes whirling about on his
wonderful horse. He had been easy to distinguish, since an eccentric
blow had bared his head without hurting it, for his close golden mop
of hair gleamed in the hot sunshine as brightly as the steel of the
sword flashing round it.
Of the missiles that fell pretty thickly, the Boy Trumpeter did not
take much notice. First, one can't attend to everything, and his hands
were full. Secondly, one gets used to anything. Thirdly, experience
soon teaches one, in spite of proverbs, how very few bullets find
their billet. Far more unnerving is the mere suspicion of fear or even
of anxiety in the human mass around you. The Boy was beginning to
wonder if there were any dark reason for the increasing pressure, and
whether they would be allowed to move back more quickly, when the
smoke in front lifted for a moment, and he could see the plain, and
the enemy's line some two hundred yards away.
[Illustration]
And across the plain between them, he saw Master Jackanapes galloping
alone at the top of Lollo's speed, their faces to the enemy, his
golden head at Lollo's ear.
But at this moment noise and smoke seemed to burst out on every side,
the officer shouted to him to sound retire, and between trumpeting and
bumping about on his horse, he saw and heard no more of the incidents
of his first battle.
Tony Johnson was always unlucky with horses, from the days of the
giddy-go-round onwards. On this day--of all days in the year--his own
horse was on the sick list, and he had to ride an inferior,
ill-conditioned beast, and fell off that, at the very moment when it
was a matter of life or death to be able to ride away. The horse fell
on him, but struggled up again, and Tony managed to keep hold of it.
It was in trying to remount that he discovered, by helplessness and
anguish, that one of his legs was crushed and broken, and that no feat
of which he was master would get him into the saddle. Not able even to
stand alone, awkwardly, agonizingly unable to mount his restive horse,
his life was yet so strong within him! And on one side of him rolled
the dust and smoke-cloud of his advancing foe, and on the other, that
which covered his retreating friends.
He turned one piteous gaze after them, with a bitter twinge, not of
reproach, but of loneliness; and then, dragging himself up by the side
of his horse, he turned the other way and drew out his pistol, and
waited for the end. Whether he waited seconds or minutes he never
knew, before some one gripped him by the arm.
"_Jackanapes_! _GOD bless you_! It's my left leg. If you could get me
on--"
It was like Tony's luck that his pistol went off at his horse's tail,
and made it plunge; but Jackanapes threw him across the saddle.
"Hold on anyhow, and stick your spur in. I'll lead him. Keep your head
down, they're firing high."
And Jackanapes laid his head down--to Lollo's ear.
It was when they were fairly off, that a sudden upspringing of the
enemy in all directions had made it necessary to change the gradual
retirement of our force into as rapid a retreat as possible. And when
Jackanapes became aware of this, and felt the lagging and swerving of
Tony's horse, he began to wish he had thrown his friend across his own
saddle, and left their lives to Lollo.
When Tony became aware of it, several things came into his head.
1. That the dangers of their ride for life were now more than doubled.
2. That if Jackanapes and Lollo were not burdened with him they would
undoubtedly escape. 3. That Jackanapes' life was infinitely valuable,
and his--Tony's--was not. 4. That this--if he could seize it--was the
supremest of all the moments in which he had tried to assume the
virtues which Jackanapes had by nature; and that if he could be
courageous and unselfish now--
He caught at his own reins and spoke very loud--
"Jackanapes! It won't do. You and Lollo must go on. Tell the fellows I
gave you back to them, with all my heart. Jackanapes, if you love me,
leave me!"
There was a daffodil light over the evening sky in front of them, and
it shone strangely on Jackanapes' hair and face. He turned with an odd
look in his eyes that a vainer man than Tony Johnson might have taken
for brotherly pride. Then he shook his mop and laughed at him.
"_Leave you?_ To save my skin? No, Tony, not to save my soul!"