AN AUDACIOUS THEFT
RHODA was very busy now, seeing her old friends. Robin and his wife
told her how they had missed her weekly visit and reading.
"Us do be filled up and comforted by your bit o' chat," said the old
man. "'Tis very instructive for we, an' my old woman hur saith t'other
marnin',—
"'Robin,' hur saith, 'a'm thinkin' the Lord's Book be, arter all zaid
and done, a deal more interestin' than yonner Ashampton paper!'"
Poll nodded her head sagely. "You do be as good as a passon in how you
read an' explanize. If me dear departed Harry had but a heerd o' you,
maybe you cood 'a turned he vrom the drink, an' kep' he alive to this
day. But then there be Robin to be thought o'. Us must be thanvul he
were a-tooken afore I gotted vull tired o' he!"
But none seemed to thirst for her visits so much as Mrs. Dyke, and yet
Rhoda shrank from going to her very often. Her most direct way led
past the house she had been warned to avoid, and she generally made a
"détour" when near it, for she felt strangely nervous of encountering
Tom Evans, the surly owner, again. She neither saw nor heard anything
of Mr. Rokeby, and sometimes wondered what his communication to her
about them would have been.
One afternoon she had left Mrs. Dyke rather late; her husband had
come in, and Rhoda had been trying to persuade him to come over to
the Sunday service. As she rode along, the gathering dusk made her
determine to ride straight past the Evans's, for she did not want to
be out later than possible. She urged Sultana on as she came near, and
drew a breath of relief as she passed in safety. Lights were in the
windows, and, judging from the noise going on inside, there were plenty
of people within. She was wondering why they always seemed to be having
company, when suddenly, as she passed under the shadow of a thorn-bush,
a man sprang out, and seized her bridle with such a powerful hand that
Sultana was brought to a standstill with the jerk.
Rhoda's heart beat violently. She could not recognize the figure, as
his hat was well over his face, but a harsh voice commanded her to get
down, and she felt the only thing was to obey.
"What do you want?" she demanded, thinking, of course, that the next
thing would be a request for her purse.
But not a word did the man say; he turned Sultana's head, vaulted into
the saddle, and was out of sight before she could recover from her
fright.
Rhoda stood still for a moment, quite dazed, and then, realizing how
utterly unprotected she was, and how easy it was to rob, or perhaps
even murder her, without a chance of escape, she set off running as
fast as she could from the ill-fated place. Her foot was far from
strong, and she made slow progress. More than once she tripped and fell
in the long heather and bracken, a hidden piece of rock or a hole in
the ground being the cause. But gradually, as she got farther away, and
there were no signs of any pursuer, she came to the conclusion that it
was her horse and not herself that was wanted, and took courage.
Nearly an hour later, she staggered rather than walked into her
cottage, and Hannah, seeing her white face and exhausted state, could
not repress an exclamation of alarm. But wisely she held her tongue,
gave her a cup of hot coffee, put her into an easy-chair by the fire,
and took off her damp clothes herself. And Rhoda was soon able to tell
her of her misadventure.
"I don't know what to do, I am so exhausted. Ought I not to put it into
the hands of the police? Jock has gone home, I suppose. Oh, Hannah, I
cannot lose Sultana!"
"There's not much chance of the police being able to do anything
to-night, mum. I'm afraid the thief will have got clean away. It's
such a benighted place. There's only one policeman in Ashampton, I do
believe. Now, if only Mr. Rokeby knew of it, he would know what to do."
"I think I will go to bed. My ankle is hurting dreadfully, I do hope
I shall not have to lie up again. I hardly knew how to get home. Oh,
Hannah, if I have lost Sultana, what shall I do? I am so dependent on
her."
"We won't talk no more about it, mum, to-night."
And Rhoda was so overcome by her fright and fatigue that when, a little
later, Hannah put her to bed, she sank at once into a heavy slumber,
and never woke till broad daylight the next morning.
She persisted in getting up, though her ankle was swollen and painful.
And when Jock arrived, told him she would like him to go down to
Ashampton and fetch the policeman up to speak to her.
Jock stood with open mouth and eyes listening to the explanation that
followed, and then started off at a quick run down the lane. His pace
soon slackened, however. Such a piece of news did not often fall to him
to tell, and he looked about for some one to whom he might communicate
it. He had not to wait long; an old farm-labourer met him, and Jock
dilated to his heart's content upon the shocking adventure that had
befallen his mistress.
"Oi've never heerd tell afore on a young leddy bein' left, an' t'hoss
bein' taken. It be allays the t'other way; the young leddy do be the
prize!" And the old man rubbed his head dubiously. Then he added
slowly, "'Ee be but a thick-headed lad. Be un the young leddy that be
taken an' t' hoss coom home wi'out she?"
"Ay," retorted Jock, stolidly, "an' t'hoss have axed me to fetch the
perlice, an' not baide wastin' me toime over a dunder-headed numskull!"
He quickened his pace after this, but stopped to repeat his story at
the first cottage he passed, and then, as he approached the station,
which was midway down the hill, he saw Mr. Rokeby riding leisurely
towards it in front of him. It was too great a temptation to Jock.
Racing after him, he called out, "Hoi! Hoi!" till Mr. Rokeby looked
round, wondering if the boy was demented.
"The missus' black hoss be run off wi'!" shouted Jock.
He had the gratification of seeing interest at once aroused. Mr. Rokeby
brought his horse to a standstill, and questioned and cross-questioned
him, till poor Jock began to wish he had been more discreet. Then,
after getting as much of the truth out of him as was possible, Mr.
Rokeby turned his horse's head, and leaving Jock to continue on his
errand, cantered up the hill again as fast as he could go, and never
drew his rein till he reached Rhoda's cottage. He found her on the
couch by the fire, and she turned round on his entrance with a relieved
air.
"I wonder if you can help me, Mr. Rokeby?" she said, almost
appealingly; for the loss of Sultana weighed heavily on her, and it was
no time to stand on her dignity with him.
"I will, if I possibly can. I have heard of your loss from your boy
going down to Ashampton, and that is what has brought me. Will you give
me the exact details?"
Rhoda did so calmly and quietly, but as she noted Mr. Rokeby's knitted
brows and flashing eyes during her recital she said, "I know what you
are going to say—that I have brought it upon myself. I own I may have,
and yet I believe I would do it again, if it were only to comfort and
talk to that poor woman."
"You take your own way, and it is not for me to remark on it," he said
gravely, almost coldly. Then he added, "May I ask with what kind of
reception you met when you went to the Evans's?"
"The father opened the door, swore at me, and banged it in my face. I
suppose you think that served me right! I must say I wonder at your
taking such tenants—they are making our moorside quite unsafe."
"I do not think they will be here long. Was it the father or the son
who took your horse, do you think?"
"Neither, as far as I could see. This was an elderly man with a short
grey beard, but I could not see his face."
"Do you think he had any connexion with the Evanses?"
"I should think so. It was only just past the cottage. What do you know
about them? Why did you send me a warning?"
Mr. Rokeby smiled. "Which warning you considered extremely impertinent
and unnecessary, and which you totally disregarded, giving me to
understand that I ought to know my place better than to venture to
interfere with any of your proceedings, even though it was at my
instigation you were visiting them!"
Rhoda coloured. "It is ungenerous to triumph over my fall," she said.
"I have a new agent, a clever man, and he liked the look of Evans so
little that he traced him back to America, and there found that he had
been imprisoned for counterfeiting coin. He was only one of a gang,
and our suspicions were aroused hereby seeing several other men in
the habit of shutting themselves up with him towards night. I rather
think they fancy they have got hold of a nice quiet place, and will
beat liberty to carry out their nefarious practices without any fear
of molestation. My agent, Mr. Hughes, had kept me in the dark over
this, or I would never have dreamt of asking you to visit them. When I
returned home after seeing you, he told me, and I thought I could do no
less than send you a line."
Rhoda was silent.
He continued, "Hughes has been employing a detective this last week
to watch them, but where he was last night, I cannot imagine. He is
staying at the Dragon in Ashampton, and he will be of more help to
us now than this country policeman. It looks to me as if one of the
principal leaders in it has scented something, and has made off, using
your horse with that object."
"In which case I am not likely to see her again. I really don't know
what I shall do. I am afraid I shall be perfectly helpless, tied to the
house again, for I am no good at walking at present, as I proved last
night."
Mr. Rokeby looked sympathetic, then said, with a little hesitation in
his tone, "I wish you would do me the favour of exercising one of my
horses for a short time. They are eating their heads off in the stables
from want of work. And I have a chestnut which would carry you well,
as gentle and sure-footed as a moor pony. Let me have the pleasure of
sending her over to you till Sultana returns."
"Thank you very much," was the decided reply, "but I could not think of
such a thing. No, I shall get on in time, and be able to walk, I hope,
as I used to do before Sultana was given to me."
"I wish you were a little less proud, Miss Carlton."
Rhoda looked up, and met his keen, amused glance unflinchingly.
"I am never at ease on a borrowed horse," she said, "but I appreciate
the kindness of your offer. If you can find Sultana for me, I shall be
truly grateful."
"Will you allow me to wait for the advent of this policeman?"
"I shall be very glad for you to see him and take the matter into your
hands."
And this Mr. Rokeby did, for when the policeman arrived, Rhoda had only
to listen and answer the few questions put to her. He was able to give
them the information that the detective had planned a surprise, and,
taking several stalwart fellows up with him the night before, visited
the cottage in the hopes of capturing the party whilst actually engaged
in their business. How they got wind of it, no one knew, but when he
arrived there, the father and daughters were engaged in the peaceable
act of eating their supper, and, though they made a thorough search of
the premises, nothing was found that could implicate them.
The detective was not to be balked, however, and was now scouring the
moor in the hopes of coming across those that had made their escape.
"We can do nothing at present," Mr. Rokeby said. "It is possible he may
trace them, but not probable."
"Sultana is not fleet of foot," Rhoda remarked; "she is an old horse,
and if tried beyond her strength will collapse, I feel sure. In either
case, I am afraid it is a bad look-out for me. Have you given them
notice to quit, Mr. Rokeby?"
"Not yet."
When both men had left, Rhoda limped into the kitchen.
"Hannah, I feel like Job. It seems one trouble after another. How am I
to get across to the Tents' next Sunday? It stops all my work again."
"Perhaps Mr. Rokeby—"
"Mr. Rokeby, of course, has offered me the use of one of his horses.
But I could not take it. It would be out of the question. I wish I was
a little richer. Sultana costs me a good bit to keep, and I feel I
cannot go to the expense of hiring an animal from Ashampton. No, I must
be content to stay quietly at home for the present. I am afraid I have
partly brought it upon myself. I know that is Mr. Rokeby's opinion."
Very little causes excitement in a small country village, and Ashampton
and neighbourhood were soon aware of Rhoda's loss.
The day after, Miss Montague came up to see her.
"My dear Miss Carlton, you are quite a heroine! You will be having
newspaper reporters from Exeter to interview you. I am astonished to
see you looking so well. The first account that I heard was that you
had been robbed and nearly murdered by a highwayman. Next, that it was
your horse that was murdered, and you had to run for your life; then
that your horse fled in fright, and you had a hand-to-hand fight with
your assailant. I am hoping to hear a true account now."
Rhoda gave it, and Miss Montague heaved a sigh of relief.
"Well, it's only a horse. Ask your brother to send you another one. It
is absurd to think you will ever have it back again."
"My brother isn't rolling in riches," Rhoda said, smiling. "No, it was
an expensive luxury, and I shall be better without one, perhaps. It
is my foot that disables me so. When that gets well, I shall be able
to tramp the country again, but until that time comes, I shall be a
prisoner here, I'm afraid."
"I will come up and visit you as often as I can. Have you plenty of
books? I can lend you any amount of novels, but I suppose you're too
good to read those. Who is going to do the preaching up here next
Sunday? I heard you had started again."
"They must get on without me for a Sunday or two more;" and a sigh
followed her words.
"That is a pity. Look here; may I come up and spend Sunday afternoon
with you here, and then you can preach to me, to keep your hand in? I
really mean it. I will come up in a Sunday frame of mind, and will let
you talk to me exactly as you choose. Is it a bargain?"
"I shall be glad to see you," Rhoda said evasively.
"Very well, then I shall come."
And after talking away for some time longer, Miss Montague took her
leave, saying as she did so, "Don't be down-hearted about your horse,
nor about your meeting. I always look upon you as one of the most
sensible young women that I know, and I do believe it is not cant with
you, but principle. Don't you believe in a Providence arranging things
for you? Then isn't it all right?"
Rhoda's bright smile shone out again at this.
And with a nod of approval, Miss Montague departed.