Festus Derriman had remained in the Royal watering-place all that day,
his horse being sick at stables; but, wishing to coax or bully from his
uncle a remount for the coming summer, he set off on foot for Oxwell
early in the evening. When he drew near to the village, or rather to the
hall, which was a mile from the village, he overtook a slim, quick-eyed
woman, sauntering along at a leisurely pace. She was fashionably dressed
in a green spencer, with 'Mameluke' sleeves, and wore a velvet Spanish
hat and feather.
'Good afternoon t'ye, ma'am,' said Festus, throwing a sword-and-pistol
air into his greeting. 'You are out for a walk?'
'I _am_ out for a walk, captain,' said the lady, who had criticized him
from the crevice of her eye, without seeming to do much more than
continue her demure look forward, and gave the title as a sop to his
apparent character.
'From the town?--I'd swear it, ma'am; 'pon my honour I would!'
'Yes, I am from the town, sir,' said she.
'Ah, you are a visitor! I know every one of the regular inhabitants; we
soldiers are in and out there continually. Festus Derriman, Yeomanry
Cavalry, you know. The fact is, the watering-place is under our charge;
the folks will be quite dependent upon us for their deliverance in the
coming struggle. We hold our lives in our hands, and theirs, I may say,
in our pockets. What made you come here, ma'am, at such a critical
time?'
'I don't see that it is such a critical time?'
'But it is, though; and so you'd say if you was as much mixed up with the
military affairs of the nation as some of us.'
The lady smiled. 'The King is coming this year, anyhow,' said she.
'Never!' said Festus firmly. 'Ah, you are one of the attendants at court
perhaps, come on ahead to get the King's chambers ready, in case Boney
should not land?'
'No,' she said; 'I am connected with the theatre, though not just at the
present moment. I have been out of luck for the last year or two; but I
have fetched up again. I join the company when they arrive for the
season.'
Festus surveyed her with interest. 'Faith! and is it so? Well, ma'am,
what part do you play?'
'I am mostly the leading lady--the heroine,' she said, drawing herself up
with dignity.
'I'll come and have a look at ye if all's well, and the landing is put
off--hang me if I don't!--Hullo, hullo, what do I see?'
His eyes were stretched towards a distant field, which Anne Garland was
at that moment hastily crossing, on her way from the hall to Overcombe.
'I must be off. Good-day to ye, dear creature!' he exclaimed, hurrying
forward.
The lady said, 'O, you droll monster!' as she smiled and watched him
stride ahead.
Festus bounded on over the hedge, across the intervening patch of green,
and into the field which Anne was still crossing. In a moment or two she
looked back, and seeing the well-known Herculean figure of the yeoman
behind her felt rather alarmed, though she determined to show no
difference in her outward carriage. But to maintain her natural gait was
beyond her powers. She spasmodically quickened her pace; fruitlessly,
however, for he gained upon her, and when within a few strides of her
exclaimed, 'Well, my darling!' Anne started off at a run.
Festus was already out of breath, and soon found that he was not likely
to overtake her. On she went, without turning her head, till an unusual
noise behind compelled her to look round. His face was in the act of
falling back; he swerved on one side, and dropped like a log upon a
convenient hedgerow-bank which bordered the path. There he lay quite
still.
Anne was somewhat alarmed; and after standing at gaze for two or three
minutes, drew nearer to him, a step and a half at a time, wondering and
doubting, as a meek ewe draws near to some strolling vagabond who flings
himself on the grass near the flock.
'He is in a swoon!' she murmured.
Her heart beat quickly, and she looked around. Nobody was in sight; she
advanced a step nearer still and observed him again. Apparently his face
was turning to a livid hue, and his breathing had become obstructed.
''Tis not a swoon; 'tis apoplexy!' she said, in deep distress. 'I ought
to untie his neck.' But she was afraid to do this, and only drew a
little closer still.
Miss Garland was now within three feet of him, whereupon the senseless
man, who could hold his breath no longer, sprang to his feet and darted
at her, saying, 'Ha! ha! a scheme for a kiss!'
She felt his arm slipping round her neck; but, twirling about with
amazing dexterity, she wriggled from his embrace and ran away along the
field. The force with which she had extricated herself was sufficient to
throw Festus upon the grass, and by the time that he got upon his legs
again she was many yards off. Uttering a word which was not exactly a
blessing, he immediately gave chase; and thus they ran till Anne entered
a meadow divided down the middle by a brook about six feet wide. A
narrow plank was thrown loosely across at the point where the path
traversed this stream, and when Anne reached it she at once scampered
over. At the other side she turned her head to gather the probabilities
of the situation, which were that Festus Derriman would overtake her even
now. By a sudden forethought she stooped, seized the end of the plank,
and endeavoured to drag it away from the opposite bank. But the weight
was too great for her to do more than slightly move it, and with a
desperate sigh she ran on again, having lost many valuable seconds.
But her attempt, though ineffectual in dragging it down, had been enough
to unsettle the little bridge; and when Derriman reached the middle,
which he did half a minute later, the plank turned over on its edge,
tilting him bodily into the river. The water was not remarkably deep,
but as the yeoman fell flat on his stomach he was completely immersed;
and it was some time before he could drag himself out. When he arose,
dripping on the bank, and looked around, Anne had vanished from the mead.
Then Festus's eyes glowed like carbuncles, and he gave voice to fearful
imprecations, shaking his fist in the soft summer air towards Anne, in a
way that was terrible for any maiden to behold. Wading back through the
stream, he walked along its bank with a heavy tread, the water running
from his coat-tails, wrists, and the tips of his ears, in silvery
dribbles, that sparkled pleasantly in the sun. Thus he hastened away,
and went round by a by-path to the hall.
Meanwhile the author of his troubles was rapidly drawing nearer to the
mill, and soon, to her inexpressible delight, she saw Bob coming to meet
her. She had heard the flounce, and, feeling more secure from her
pursuer, had dropped her pace to a quick walk. No sooner did she reach
Bob than, overcome by the excitement of the moment, she flung herself
into his arms. Bob instantly enclosed her in an embrace so very thorough
that there was no possible danger of her falling, whatever degree of
exhaustion might have given rise to her somewhat unexpected action; and
in this attitude they silently remained, till it was borne in upon Anne
that the present was the first time in her life that she had ever been in
such a position. Her face then burnt like a sunset, and she did not know
how to look up at him. Feeling at length quite safe, she suddenly
resolved not to give way to her first impulse to tell him the whole of
what had happened, lest there should be a dreadful quarrel and fight
between Bob and the yeoman, and great difficulties caused in the Loveday
family on her account, the miller having important wheat transactions
with the Derrimans.
'You seem frightened, dearest Anne,' said Bob tenderly.
'Yes,' she replied. 'I saw a man I did not like the look of, and he was
inclined to follow me. But, worse than that, I am troubled about the
French. O Bob! I am afraid you will be killed, and my mother, and John,
and your father, and all of us hunted down!'
'Now I have told you, dear little heart, that it cannot be. We shall
drive 'em into the sea after a battle or two, even if they land, which I
don't believe they will. We've got ninety sail of the line, and though
it is rather unfortunate that we should have declared war against Spain
at this ticklish time, there's enough for all.' And Bob went into
elaborate statistics of the navy, army, militia, and volunteers, to
prolong the time of holding her. When he had done speaking he drew
rather a heavy sigh.
'What's the matter, Bob?'
'I haven't been yet to offer myself as a sea-fencible, and I ought to
have done it long ago.'
'You are only one. Surely they can do without you?'
Bob shook his head. She arose from her restful position, her eye
catching his with a shamefaced expression of having given way at last.
Loveday drew from his pocket a paper, and said, as they slowly walked on,
'Here's something to make us brave and patriotic. I bought it in
Budmouth. Isn't it a stirring picture?'
It was a hieroglyphic profile of Napoleon. The hat represented a maimed
French eagle; the face was ingeniously made up of human carcases, knotted
and writhing together in such directions as to form a physiognomy; a
band, or stock, shaped to resemble the English Channel, encircled his
throat, and seemed to choke him; his epaulette was a hand tearing a
cobweb that represented the treaty of peace with England; and his ear was
a woman crouching over a dying child. {225}
'It is dreadful!' said Anne. 'I don't like to see it.'
She had recovered from her emotion, and walked along beside him with a
grave, subdued face. Bob did not like to assume the privileges of an
accepted lover and draw her hand through his arm; for, conscious that she
naturally belonged to a politer grade than his own, he feared lest her
exhibition of tenderness were an impulse which cooler moments might
regret. A perfect Paul-and-Virginia life had not absolutely set in for
him as yet, and it was not to be hastened by force. When they had passed
over the bridge into the mill-front they saw the miller standing at the
door with a face of concern.
'Since you have been gone,' he said, 'a Government man has been here, and
to all the houses, taking down the numbers of the women and children, and
their ages and the number of horses and waggons that can be mustered, in
case they have to retreat inland, out of the way of the invading army.'
The little family gathered themselves together, all feeling the crisis
more seriously than they liked to express. Mrs. Loveday thought how
ridiculous a thing social ambition was in such a conjuncture as this, and
vowed that she would leave Anne to love where she would. Anne, too,
forgot the little peculiarities of speech and manner in Bob and his
father, which sometimes jarred for a moment upon her more refined sense,
and was thankful for their love and protection in this looming trouble.
On going upstairs she remembered the paper which Farmer Derriman had
given her, and searched in her bosom for it. She could not find it
there. 'I must have left it on the table,' she said to herself. It did
not matter; she remembered every word. She took a pen and wrote a
duplicate, which she put safely away.
But Anne was wrong. She had, after all, placed the paper where she
supposed, and there it ought to have been. But in escaping from Festus,
when he feigned apoplexy, it had fallen out upon the grass. Five minutes
after that event, when pursuer and pursued were two or three fields
ahead, the gaily-dressed woman whom the yeoman had overtaken, peeped
cautiously through the stile into the corner of the field which had been
the scene of the scramble; and seeing the paper she climbed over, secured
it, loosened the wafer without tearing the sheet, and read the memorandum
within. Unable to make anything of its meaning, the saunterer put it in
her pocket, and, dismissing the matter from her mind, went on by the by-
path which led to the back of the mill. Here, behind the hedge, she
stood and surveyed the old building for some time, after which she
meditatively turned, and retraced her steps towards the Royal watering-
place.