THE UNICORN.
When Sam Bunce returned, he had a straw in one corner of his mouth, and
was leading a sturdy roadster, with whom he seemed already on terms of
intimacy.
Mr. Dixon Mallaby, meantime, had introduced himself to Amaryllis,
getting, for his pains, but the Araminta of the sun-bonnet; and Dick,
when he and the ostler had harnessed Tod in his lonely distinction, went
round to find her the centre of an admiring group competing, it seemed,
for her company in the brake; the girl answering with "Na-ay!" "Na-ay,
thank 'ee kindly," and "Thank 'ee, sir, Ah'll ask feyther," with a
genuine flush on her face due to fear of speech rather than of men,
which did much to heighten her attraction for these kindly labourers and
mechanics.
"You be set on box 'long o' me," said Dick, and took her not too gently
by the arm.
But his way was barred by a red-faced cricketer in strange flannels.
"'Tis not every Ecclesthorpe fixture," he said, "as we gets a comely
wench for maascot. Us be trustin' our hossflesh to you----"
"Hosses is Grudgers', an' t' lass is mine," interrupted Dick, smiling.
"But there be Parson Mallaby to make we mind our manners," objected
Redface.
"T' cloth," said Dick, "is a good thing. And blood's a better," and so
marched his daughter to the front of the brake.
As the last of the team were climbing to their seats, a motor-cycle with
a side-car, coming from the north, pulled up behind them.
"Don't turn your head," whispered Dick on the box to Amaryllis beside
him. "They'll pass us soon, if they're Melchard's men. I had to yank you
up here, you little devil, or you'd have cooked the whole show by
laughing. You were shaking like a jelly, and they thought you were
afraid of me. You! With your 'Naays' and your 'Thank 'ee kindlys!'"
A tall man in motor-cycling overalls, goggles pushed up over his cap,
sauntered leisurely past the brake from behind, on its off side. From
the near-side box-seat Amaryllis saw him, and then looked down at the
splash-board, shaking her head.
"Nay, daddy, na-ay!" she said in a clear drawl, imitating Dick's.
"Always feared, Ah be, o' talkin', when there's a many men makin' simple
jests. That were a gradely word o' yourn, 'Cloth be a fine thing, but
blood's a better!'"
And she finished with a low, cooing chuckle.
Then, loud and clear, came the parson's voice.
"You can let 'em go now, Mr. Bunce," he said.
The stableman stood away from Tod's bridle, and the three horses put
their necks into their collars like one.
A little chorus of approbation rose from the body of the brake; the man
in the middle of the road jumped aside, cursing.
As they passed him, gathering pace, "That's one of 'em," muttered Dick.
"He'll go into 'The Goat in Boots' and hear all about us," said
Amaryllis.
"I don't think he'll want to draw too much attention to himself," said
Dick. "But if he does go in, Ned Blossom and the two hayseeds in the
bar'll tell him all about Sam Bunce."
"Do you think he really believes in Bunce?" asked the girl.
"He believes already in three pounds, and the next drink'll make him
believe in everything."
"You _are_ clever," said Amaryllis, "and it's awfully funny."
"You," said Dick, "are astonishing."
"Why?" asked the girl.
"You laugh all the time, as if----"
"As if I weren't afraid? I'm not," she answered. "But it's not courage.
It's you. I feel safe."
For a moment Dick was silent; then he said:
"My leader's a good little nag, isn't he?"
"Yes. He likes you."
"How d'you know?"
"He feels you through the lines. He's not used to being all alone out
there, but he's only tried to look round once, and then all you did was
to talk to him, and he said to himself: '_He's_ all right'--waggled his
head a little and broke into his jolly canter again."
"I'll show you what they can do, after that side-car has passed."
"Will they come after us?"
Two or three back-fire explosions answered her, and very soon the
motor-cycle and side-car tore past the brake, alarming with its insolent
speed even Dick's sober and industrious leader.
The machine was soon out of sight.
"Did they mean to scare poor Tod?" asked Amaryllis.
"He's only disgusted. No," said Dick. "All that fuss and stink is to get
'em to Gallowstree Dip before we pass it."
"But they don't know we're here," she objected.
"They don't know anything. If we turn off towards Harthborough Junction,
or if anyone leaves the brake to walk that way, they'll follow."
"Wasn't there to be a picket at Harthborough itself?" asked the girl.
"Yes. But they haven't made contact with it yet, and don't even know
whether it's arrived. If it hadn't and we went that way, we could nip
into the first train and get clean away. But when this picket sees us
driving straight on to Ecclesthorpe, they'll sit down at the Dip to wait
till we never come. I shall spring the Dip at such a pace that these
flannelled fools'll yell like a school-treat, and the picket'll forget
'em."
"But why should they even suspect?"
"They're ordered to suspect everything. They've never seen either the
man or the woman they're after. They see one woman and a lot of men on a
beanfeast, and she's got to pass on to the next picket to be accounted
for."
"Then why didn't you make Mother Brundage dress me up as a boy?"
"Because like this you may be somebody else. In trousers, these blokes
would shoot you on sight. My dear child," said Dick, "there are a good
many men that could masquerade as women, but not one young woman in ten
thousand can look anything but painfully ridiculous in a suit of
dittoes."
Amaryllis was not quite sure whether or not to be offended, but
remembered her hair, and was comforted.
The road now began to drop away in front of them so sharply that Tod had
no work to do. A little further, and the slow trot, which gentle use of
the foot-break had made possible, was reduced to a reluctant,
pastern-racking walk, with slack traces and strained collar-chains for
the wheelers; while the leader, too much at leisure, began to remember
his loneliness.
And then, as they rounded an acute bend at the steepest point of the
grade, Amaryllis saw below her, just beyond the bridge of grey stone
from which their road began its ascent to the moor, a single ancient
oak-tree, from the twisted trunk of which was stretched out across the
by-road which followed the course of the bridged stream, that cruel,
heavy arm, upon which in one day were hanged fifteen of Sir Thomas
Wyatt's rebels in days popularly supposed merrier than ours.
Near the foot of this evil old tree, worthy of its huge bough, the girl
saw the two men whose behaviour had offended Tod, pretending themselves
occupied with some defect of side-car or cycle. By the time that Dick
had brought his team within a hundred and fifty yards of the bottom, he
could see that the interest of his two enemies had been diverted from
their own vehicle to his: they stood erect with their backs to the oak,
each hiding a hand in a right-side pocket.
Whether they had gathered matter of suspicion at "The Goat in Boots,"
whether they would dare, here in peaceful English country, so desperate
an attempt as shooting him and Amaryllis as they passed the Dip, were
questions Dick could not answer. But the goggles were down, masking the
faces, while he and the girl, perched high on the box, made fine targets
for a pair of Brownings.
He turned in his seat and spoke to his passengers, catching Dixon
Mallaby's eye.
"Ah be goin' to show 'ee, sir," he said, "how three ornary hacks,
rightly drove, can take a dip an' a rise, even with a load like you
gentlemen makes. Howd tight."
Then to Amaryllis he said, with paternal tenderness:
"Don't you be fallin' off now, my dear. And grab t' rail, not me, when
they bump into their collars."
Simultaneously he lifted his foot from the break, uttered an exotic,
mournful cry, and for the first time brought his long lash across his
horses--Tod first, then the wheelers; and as the three shot down the
remnant of the slope, he kept Tod's traces tight while the heavy load at
their tails compelled the pair to run from it for their lives.
What he had foretold befell; the men in the body of the carriage broke
into a boyish cheer of delight, which drowned for all his passengers but
Amaryllis the words of that stream of polyglot invective, exhortation
and endearment which the driver poured out over his cattle; a lost
jeremiad, for Dick says he does not remember, and Amaryllis that, though
she heard it all, there was much that she did not understand and a great
deal more which nothing on earth will ever induce her to repeat.
As they rattled across the little stone bridge, Dick glanced to his left
at the Hangman's Oak, the motor-cycle and the two men; saw foolish,
innocent grins break through the suspicion on the two bad faces, and,
jovially lifting his whip, waved them a salute.
In response, the two right hands came out of their pockets, forgetting
for that moment what they left there.
The circling lash took each wheeler in turn, while the load still ran
light behind them, and Tod, honest worker, answered relief with fresh
effort.
By the time that the hill had reduced them to a straining walk,
Gallowstree Dip was out of sight, and Dick let out his breath with a
little hissing noise between the teeth. Amaryllis heard it and
understood.
"Dad!" she said.
"Ay, lass?" he answered.
"Those two men," she said, lowering her voice and speaking in her
natural manner: "as we were coming down to the bridge they pushed up
their goggles, and their faces were beastly--just as if they meant," she
whispered, "to kill somebody."
Dick nodded.
"And then the men behind began cheering, and those two horrid faces grew
quite silly and good-natured. And when you waggled your whip at them
they grinned and waved their hands, and one of them shouted something
meant to be jolly."
"It just means, lovey," he answered, "that they made up their minds it
was a beano after all, and that they'd got wind up about nothing. The
mongrel sportsman and the bashful wench in a sun-bonnet were after all,
they thought, a genuine substitute for Ned Blossom."
"Did you play for that?" she asked.
"Oh, well!" he answered vaguely; then added: "Don't worry, my lass. 'Tis
all well for a while."
He kept his horses on a steady strain until the long rise was topped,
and then climbed down from his seat and let them breathe, tightening
this and feeling that about their tackle, until each horse was tricked
into believing itself the object of especial interest; a belief of which
Amaryllis saw the effect in three pairs of swivelling ears. At last,
having lighted a cigarette dug from a yellow packet which he must have
bought, she was sure, at "The Goat in Boots," he climbed back to her
with this unusual ornament hanging stickily from his under lip.
The team started again willingly as he drew the reins softly in through
his fingers; but for a while he kept them walking.
Then he turned to Mr. Dixon Mallaby.
"Parson," he said, "Ah've Ned Blossom's repitation to consider. Ah'll
take 'em along easy-like, leastways if you're not in a hurry. Then you
gives me the word when us be nobbut half mile from tha pull-up, an' I'll
let 'em out champion."
"You don't know Ecclesthorpe, then?" said Dixon Mallaby.
"I dunno this ro'd," replied Dick. "If 'ee play match in Rectory field,
Ah be to drive 'ee there, Ah reckon."
"They've got the Green in excellent shape again. The Ecclesthorpians,"
said the parson, "don't like the match outside."
All this and more Dick knew already; for he had ears as keen as his
eyes, and words travel better to the coachman than from him.
"Then Ah'll drive 'ee to t' 'George,' sir," he said.
Twenty minutes later the St. Asaph's brake, wheelers at a swinging trot
and the leader cantering in his best form, bowled through
Ecclesthorpe-on-the-Moor, and drew up with a clatter and a scrape before
"The Royal George."