CHAPTER X
A STRANGER AT THE FORGE
In the meanwhile Lady Patience, with Betty by her side, had been walkingtowards the forge as rapidly as the state of the road permitted.
A sudden turn of the path brought her within sight of the cross-ways andof the old gallows, on which a fragment of rain-spattered rag stillfluttered ghostlike in the wind.
But here, within a few yards of her goal, she stopped suddenly, witheyes dilated, and hands pressed convulsively to her heart, in an agonyof terror. Walking quickly on the road from Wirksworth towards Stich'scottage were some half-dozen red-coated figures, the foremost manamongst them wearing three stripes upon his sleeve.
Soldiers with a sergeant at the forge! What could it mean but awfulperil for the fugitive?
Her halt had been but momentary, the next instant she was flying downthe pathway closely followed by Betty, and had reached the shed just asthe soldiers were skirting the cottage towards it.
She glanced within, and gave a quick sigh of relief: there was no signof her brother, and John was busy at his anvil.
Already the smith had caught sight of her.
"Hush!" he whispered reassuringly, "have no fear, my lady. I've hadsoldiers here before."
"But they'll recognise me, perhaps ... or guess..."
"No, no! my lady! Do you pretend to be a waiting wench. They are menfrom Derby mostly, and not like to know your face."
There was not a moment to be lost. Patience realised this, togetherwith the certainty that her own coolness and presence of mind mightprove the one chance of safety for her brother.
"Halt!" came in loud accents from the sergeant outside.
"The lock, Master Stich," said Patience, loudly and carelessly, as thesergeant stepped into the doorway, "is it ready? Her ladyship's coachis following me from Aldwark, and will be at the cross-roads anon."
"Quite ready, mistress," replied the smith, casting a rapid glance atthe soldier, who stood in the entrance with hand to hat in militarysalute.
The latter took a rapid survey of the interior of the forge, then saidpolitely,--
"Your pardon, ladies!"
"Well, and what is it now, Sergeant?" queried John, with affectedimpatience.
"I have heard that there's a stranger at your forge, smith," replied thesoldier. "My corporal came down from Aldwark early this afternoon andtold me about him. I'd like just to have a talk with him."
"One moment, Sergeant," said John, interposing his burly figure betweenPatience and the prying eyes of the young soldier.
"I think you'll find the lock quite secure now, mistress," he said,trying, good, honest fellow that he was, to put as much meaning into thecareless sentence as he dared. She mutely thanked him with her eyes,took the padlock from his hands, and gave him over some money for hispains, the while her heart was nearly bursting with the agony ofsuspense.
"No stranger, Sergeant," rejoined the smith, once more turning withwell-assumed indifference to the soldier, "only my nephew out o'Nottingham. Your corporal was a Derby man, and knew the lad's mother, mysister Hannah!"
"Quite so, quite so, smith," quoth the Sergeant, pleasantly; "then youwon't mind my searching your forge and cottage just for form's sake."
Even then Patience did not betray herself either by a look or a quiverof the voice.
"Lud! how tiresome be those soldiers," she said with an affected pout."I'd hoped to wait here in peace, friend smith, until the arrival of herladyship's coach."
"Nay, mistress, you need not be disturbed," said the smith, jovially,"the Sergeant is but jesting, eh, friend?" he added, turning to thesoldier. "There! I give you my word, Master Sergeant, that there isnought here for you to find."
"I've my orders, smith," said the Sergeant, more curtly.
"Nay, friend," interposed Lady Patience, "surely you overstep yourorders. John Stich is honest and loyal, you do him indignity by suchunjust suspicions."
"Your pardon, ma'am, but I know my duty. There's no suspicion againstthe smith, but there are many rebels in hiding about here, and I'vestrict orders to be on the lookout for one in particular, PhilipGascoyne, Earl of Stretton, who is known to be in these parts."
John Stich interrupted him with a loud guffaw.
"Lud, man!" he said, "there's no room for a noble lord in a waysidesmithy; you waste your time."
"My orders say I've the right to search," quoth the Sergeant, firmly,"and search I'm going to."
Then he turned to his squad, who were standing at attention outside.
"Follow me, men," he said, as he stepped forward into the forge.
Fortunately the remote corners of the shed were dark, and Patience stillhad her hood and cloak wrapped closely round her, or her deathlikepallor, the wild, terrified look in her eyes, would at this moment havebetrayed her in spite of herself.
But honest John was standing in the way of the Sergeant.
"Look'ee here, Sergeant," he said quietly, "I'm a man of few words, butI'm a free-born Englishman, and my home is my castle. It's an insult toa free and loyal citizen for soldiers to search his home, as if he werea felon. I say you _shall not_ enter, so you take yourself off, beforeyou come by a broken head."
"Smith, you're a fool," commented the Sergeant with a shrug of theshoulders, "and do yourself no good."
"That's as it may be, friend," quoth John. "There are fools in everywalk in life. You be a stranger in these parts and don't know me, butfolk'll tell you that what John Stich once says, that he'll stick to.So forewarned is forearmed, friend Sergeant. Eh?"
But to this the Sergeant had but one reply, and that was directed to hisown squad.
"Now then, my men," he said, "follow me! and you, John Stich," he addedloudly and peremptorily, "stand aside in the name of the King!"
The men were ranged round the Sergeant with muskets grasped, ready torush in the next moment at word of command. John Stich stood betweenthem and a small wooden door, little more than a partition, behind whichPhilip, Earl of Stretton, was preparing to sell his life dearly.
That death would immediately follow capture was absolutely clear both tohim and to his devoted sister, who with almost superhuman effort of willwas making heroic efforts to keep all outward show of alarm in check.Even amongst these half-dozen soldiers any one of them might know LordStretton by sight, and was not likely to forget that twenty guineas--alarge sum in those days--was the price the Hanoverian Government wasprepared to pay for the head of a rebel.
Philip was a man condemned to death by Act of Parliament. If he werecaptured now, neither prayer, nor bribes, nor even proofs of innocencewould avail him before an officious magistrate intent on doing his duty.A brief halt at Brassington court-house, an execution in the earlydawn!... these were the awesome visions which passed before Patience'seyes, as with a last thought of anguish and despair she turned to Godfor help!
No doubt John Stich was equally aware of the imminence of the peril,and, determined to fight for the life of his lord, he brandished hismighty hammer over his head, and there was a look in the powerful man'seyes that made even the Sergeant pause awhile ere giving the final wordof command.
Thus there was an instant's deadly silence whilst so many hearts werewildly beating in tumultuous emotion. Just one instant--a few seconds,mayhap, whilst even Nature seemed to stand still, and Time to pausebefore the next fateful minute.
And then a voice--a fresh, young, happy voice--was suddenly heard tosing, "My beautiful white rose."
It was not very distant: but twenty yards at most, and even now seemedto be making for the forge, drawing nearer and nearer.
Instinctively--what else could they do?--soldiers and Sergeant turned tolook out upon the Heath. There was such magic in that merry, boyishvoice, clear as that of the skylark, singing the quaint old ditty.
They looked and saw a stranger dressed in elegant, almost foppishfashion, his brown hair free from powder, tied with a large bow at thenape of t
he neck, dainty lace at his throat and wrists, scarce a speckof mud upon his fine, well-cut coat. He was leading a beautifulchestnut horse by the bridle and had been singing as he walked.
Patience, too, catching at this happy interruption like a drowning mandoes at a straw, turned to look at the approaching stranger.
Her eyes were the first to meet his as he reached the entrance of theforge, and with an elaborate, courtly gesture he raised histhree-cornered hat and made her a respectful bow.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Ho! ho! ho! but here's a pretty to-do. Why, John Stich, my friend, youlook a bit out of temper."
He stood there framed in the doorway, with the golden light of theafternoon sun throwing into bold silhouette his easy, graceful stature,and the pleasant picture of him, with one arm round the beautifulhorse's neck and his slender fingers gently fondling its soft, quiveringnose.
John Stich, at first sound of the stranger's voice, had relaxed from hisdefiant attitude, and a ray of hope had chased away the threatening lookin his eyes.
"So would you be, Captain," he said gruffly, "with these red coatsinside your house, and all their talk of rebels."
"Captain?" murmured the Sergeant.
"Aye, Captain Bathurst, my man, of His Majesty's White Dragoons," saidthe stranger, carelessly, as without more ado he led his horse withinthe forge and tethered it close to the entrance. Then he came forwardand slapped the Sergeant vigorously on the back.
"And I'll go bail, Sergeant, that John Stich is no rebel. He's far toobig a fool!" he added in an audible whisper, and with a merry twinkle inhis grey eyes.
Patience still stood rigid, expectant, terrified in the darker corner ofthe shed. She had not yet realised whether she dared to hope, whetherthis young stranger, with his pleasant, boyish voice and debonnairmanner, would have the power to stay the hand of Fate, which was evennow raised against her brother.
Betty, behind her mistress, was too terrified to speak.
But already the Sergeant had recovered from his momentary surprise. Atmention of the stranger's military rank he had raised his hand to histricorne hat. Now he was ready to perform his duty, and gladly notedthe smith's less aggressive attitude.
"At your service, Captain," he said, "and now I have my orders. I've aright o' search and..."
But like veritable quicksilver, Captain Bathurst was upon him in amoment.
"A right o' search!" he said excitedly. "A right o' search, did yousay, Sergeant? Odd's my life, but I'm in luck! Sergeant, you're thevery man for me."
And he pulled the Sergeant by the sleeve.
"I pray you, sir..." protested the latter.
But the young man was not to be denied.
"Sergeant," he whispered significantly, "would you like to earn ahundred guineas?"
"One hundred guineas," rejoined the soldier readily enough; "that Iwould, sir, if you'll tell me how."
He kept an eye on the little wooden door behind John Stich, but his earleaned towards the stranger; the bait was a tempting one, a hundredguineas was something of a fortune to a soldier of King George II.
"Listen then," said Bathurst, mysteriously. "You've heard of BeauBrocade, the highwayman, haven't you?"
"Aye, aye," nodded the Sergeant, "who hasn't?"
"Well then you know that there is a price of a hundred guineas for hiscapture, eh? ... Think of it, Sergeant! ... A hundred guineas! ... alittle fortune, eh?"
The Sergeant's eyes twinkled at the thought. The soldiers too listenedwith eager interest, for the stranger was no longer talking in awhisper. A hundred guineas! three little words of wondrous magic, whichhad the power to rouse most men to excitement in those days of penury.
Lady Patience's whole soul seemed to have taken refuge in her eyes. Herbody leaning forward, her lips parted with a quick-drawn breath, shegazed upon the stranger, wondering what he would do. That he waspurposely diverting the Sergeant's attention from his purpose she didnot dare to think, that he was succeeding beyond her wildest hopes wasnot in doubt for a moment.
And yet there did not seem much gained by averting the fearfulcatastrophe for the span of a few brief minutes.
"Aye! a fortune indeed!" sighed the Sergeant, with obvious longing.
"And I have sworn to lay that dare-devil highwayman by the heels,"continued the young man. "I know where he lies hidden at this verymoment, but, by Satan and all his crew, I cannot lay hands upon therascal."
"How so?"
"The house is private! worse luck! _I_ have no right of search!"
The Sergeant gave a knowing wink.
"Hm!" he said. "I understand."
Then he added significantly,--
"But the reward?"
"Odd's life! you shall have the whole of that, Sergeant, and, if yourmen will help me, there shall be another hundred to divide between them.I have sworn to lay the rogue by the heels for my honour's sake. Wouldyou believe me, Sergeant, 'tis but a week ago that rascally highwaymanrobbed me in broad daylight! ... fifty guineas he took from me. NowI've a bet with Captain Borrowdale, five hundred guineas aside, thatI'll bring about the rogue's capture."
There was no doubt now that the Sergeant's interest was fully aroused;the soldiers, at mention of the reward which was to be theirs, hung upontheir Sergeant's lips, hoping for the order to march on this verylucrative errand.
"Hm!" muttered the latter, with a knowing wink, "perhaps that highwaymanis a personal enemy of yours as well, sir!"
"Aye!" sighed Captain Bathurst, pathetically, "the worst I ever had."
"And you'd be mightily glad to see him hanged, an I mistake not. What?"
"Zounds! but I wouldn't say that exactly, Sergeant, but ... I have nolove for him ... 'tis many an ill turn he has done me of late."
"I understand! Then the reward?"
"You shall have every penny of it, friend, and a hundred guineas foryour men. What say you, gallant soldiers?" And he turned gaily to thelittle squad, who had stood at very close attention all this while.
But there was no need to make this direct appeal. The men were only tooready to be up and doing, to earn the reward and leave John Stich andthe very problematical rebel to look after themselves.
"Now, quick's the word," said the young man, briskly, "there's not amoment to be lost."
"At your service, Captain," replied the Sergeant, turning once moretowards the inner door before which John Stich still held guard, "assoon as I've searched this forge..."
"Nay, man, an you waste a minute, you and your men will miss BeauBrocade and the hundred guineas reward. Quick, man!" he addedhurriedly, seeing that the soldier had paused irresolute, "quick! withyour fellows straight up the road that leads northward. I'm onhorseback--I'll overtake you as soon as may be."
"But..."
"You'll see a lonely cottage about half a mile from here, then a bridlepath on the left; follow that, you'll come to a house that was once aninn. The rascal is there. I saw him not half an hour ago."
"But the rebel, Captain..." feebly protested the Sergeant, "my duty..."
"Nay, Sergeant, as you will," said Bathurst, coolly, with a great showof complete indifference; "but while you parley here, Beau Brocade willslip through your fingers. He is at the house now: he may be gone bysunset. Odd's life! search for your rebels! go on! waste time! and thehundred guineas are lost to you and your men for ever."
It was obvious that both sergeant and men were determined not to losethis opportunity of a bold bid for fortune.
"Done with you, sir," he said resolutely. "After all," he added, as aconcession to his own sense of duty, "I can always come back and searchthe forge afterwards."
All the soldiers seemed as one man to be uttering a sigh of relief andeager anticipation, and even before the Sergeant had spoken the word,they turned to go.
"You are a wise man, Sergeant," said Bathurst, jovially. "Off with you!straight along that road you see before you. The cottage is just beyondthat clump of distant firs, there you'll see
the bridle path. But I'llovertake you before then, never fear. Time to give my horse a handfulof oats..."
But even while he spoke the Sergeant had called "Attention!"
"I'll not fail you, sir," he shouted excitedly. "A hundred guineas!odd's my life! 'tis a fortune! Left turn! Quick march!"
The young man stood in the doorway and watched the little squad as,preceded by their Sergeant, they plodded their way northwards in questof fortune. John Stich too followed them with his eyes, until the bendin the road hid the red coats from view. Then both turned and camewithin.
But Lady Patience through it all never looked at the soldiers; her eyes,large, glowing, magnetic, were fixed upon the stranger in the forge, asif in a trance of joy and gratitude.
Beau Brocade: A Romance Page 10