CHAPTER XIV
THE FIGHT IN THE FORGE
John Stich ventured no further opposition, well knowing the recklessspirit which his own quiet devotion was powerless to keep in check;moreover, Lady Patience, closely followed by the ever-faithful Betty,had just entered by the door that gave from the yard.
"I was wondering, honest Stich," she said, "if my coach were yet insight. Meseems the horses must have had sufficient rest by now."
"I'll just see, my lady," said John.
At first sound of her low, musical voice, Bathurst had turned to her,and now his eyes rested with undisguised admiration on her gracefulfigure, dimly outlined in the fast-gathering shadows. She too caughtsight of him, and sorely against her will a vivid blush mounted to hercheeks. She pulled her cloak close to her, partly to hide the bunch ofwhite roses that nestled in her belt.
Thus there was an instant's silent pause, during which two hearts, bothyoung, both ardent, and imbued with the spirit of romance, beat--unknownto one another--in perfect unison.
And yet at this supreme moment in their lives--supreme though theythemselves knew it not--neither of them had begun to think of love. Inher there was just that delightful feeling of feminine curiosity,mingled with the subtle homage of a proud woman for the man who, in herpresence, and for her sake, had proved himself brave, resourceful, fullof invention and of pluck: there was also an unexplainable sense of themagnetism caused by the real _personality_, by the unmistakable_vitality_ of the man. He lived, he felt, he thought differently toanyone else, in a world quite apart and entirely his own, and she feltthe magic of this sunny nature, of the merry, almost boyish laugh,overlying as it were the undercurrent of disappointment and melancholywhich had never degenerated into cynicism.
But in him? Ah! in him there was above all a wild, passionate longing!the longing of an intensely human, aching heart, when it is brought nighto its own highest ideal, and knows that that ideal is infinitely beyondhis reach.
The broken-down gentleman! the notorious hero of midnight adventures!highwayman! robber! thief! what right had he even to look upon her, theperfect embodiment of exquisite womanhood, the beautiful realisation ofman's tenderest dreams?
Perhaps at this one supreme moment in his reckless career the wildadventurer felt the first pang of humbled pride, of that pride which haddefied existing laws and built up a code of its own. He understood thenall at once the stern, iron-bound rule which makes of man--free lord ofcreation though he be--the slave of those same laws which he himself hasset up for his own protection.
Beau Brocade, the highwayman, closed his eyes, and no longer dared tolook on his dream.
He turned to his horse, and with great tenderness began stroking Jack o'Lantern's soft, responsive nose.
The next moment Stich, who had been busy with his work, looked up insudden alarm.
"The soldiers!" he said briefly, "all running ... the Sergeant's at thehead o' them, and some of the shepherds at their heels."
At first Patience did not understand where the actual danger lay.
"My brother!" she gasped, terrified.
But a look from Bathurst reassured her.
"Absolutely safe," he said quickly and decisively, "a hiding-place knownto no one but me. I give your ladyship my word of honour that there isnot the remotest danger for him."
She felt all her terrors vanishing. But these few words spoken tocomfort her went nigh to costing Bathurst dear. In those few briefseconds he had lost the opportunity of jumping on Jack o' Lantern's backand getting well away before the soldiers had reached the entrance ofthe forge, and had effectually barred his chance of escape.
As it was, he had only just undone the halter, and before he had time tolead Jack o' Lantern out, the voice of the Sergeant was heard quiteclose to the doorway, shouting breathlessly,--
"Forward! quick! Arrest that man!"
"My sword, John! for your life!" was Bathurst's ready answer to thechallenge.
Stich darted to a corner of the forge. Lady Patience gave a quick,short gasp, she had suddenly realised that for some reason which shecould not quite fathom, the man who had so pluckily saved her brotherfrom the soldiers an hour ago, was now himself in imminent danger.
Jack snatched the sword eagerly which the smith was holding out to him,and resting the point of the blade on the ground before him, he testedwith evident satisfaction the temper of the steel. Not a moment toosoon this, for already the Sergeant, running, panting, infuriated by thetrick played upon him, had appeared in the doorway, closely followed bytwo of his men.
Caught like a rat in a hole, Jack was prepared to fight. Perhaps atbottom he was glad that circumstances had not compelled him to show aclean pair of heels before this new danger to himself. Alone, he mighthave liked to flee, before _her_ he preferred to fight.
"Odd's my life!" he said merrily, "'tis my friend, the Sergeant."
"You sent me on a fool's errand," shouted the latter as loudly as hisscant breath would allow, "and 'tis my belief you are one of them rebellords yourself: at anyrate you shall give an account of yourself beforethe magistrate. And if the smith dares to interfere, he does so at hisperil," he added, seeing that John Stich had seized his hammer, and washandling it ominously, fully prepared to resist the establishedauthority on behalf of his friend.
But whilst the Sergeant parleyed, Jack, with the rapid keen eye of apractised fencer, and the wary glance of a child of the Moor, had takennote of every advantage, however slight, which his present precariousposition had left him.
The Sergeant and two men were in the doorway, momentarily pausing inorder to recover their breath. Three more of the squad were runningforward along the road, but were still some little distance off, andwould be a few minutes before they reached the smithy.
Further on still there were the others, at present only appearing asscarlet dots on the Heath. Close on the heels of the Sergeant, two orthree shepherds, with Jock Miggs in their rear, had come to see what washappening in the forge.
It had taken Jack Bathurst only a couple of seconds to note all thesedetails. Luck so far favoured him that, for the next minute or two atleast, he would only have to deal with the Sergeant and two soldiers.
"Into it, my men! Arrest him in the name of the King!" shouted theSergeant, and the two soldiers, grasping their bayonets, made a rush forthe interior of the shed, ready to surround Jack and his horse.
But quick as a lightning flash, Bathurst gave Jack o' Lantern a slightprick in the ribs with his sword; the nervous creature, already renderedrestive by the sudden noise, began to plunge and rear, and thus, as hismaster had hoped, scattered the compact group of assailants momentarilyaway from the vicinity of his hoofs.
This gave the young man the desired opportunity. Nimble as a fox whenhotly pursued, he stepped back and with one bound took up a position onthe top of a solid oak table, which stood in the deep shadow caused bythe doorway, thus, for the moment, leaving Jack o' Lantern as a barrierbetween himself and his enemies.
"Friend Stich," he shouted from this exalted height, "do you stand bythe ladies. Stir not from their side whatever happens, nor interfere'tween me and the soldiers at your peril."
The lust of battle was upon him now. He was satisfied with his positionand longed to begin the fight. On his left was the outside wall of theshed, and guarding his right was the huge furnace of the smithy, out ofwhich the burning embers cast fitful flickering lights upon his tall,slim figure, and drew from his blade sparks of blood-red gold.
He had wrapped the thick capes of his heavy cloth coat round his leftarm: the folds of it hung down to his feet, forming a shield round thelower part of his figure.
Already the soldiers had recovered from the short panic caused by Jacko' Lantern's timely rearing. One of them now seized the horse by thebridle and led him out into the open, thus exposing Bathurst more fullyto the onslaught of their bayonets.
Jack was fully prepared for them, and
as soon as the Sergeant had giventhe order to attack, his steel began to dart in and out of the gloomlike some live snake, with tongue of steel; illumined by the fitfulembers of the furnace fire, it seemed to give forth a thousand sparks ofwitch-like flame with every turn of the cunning wrist. The outline ofhis head and shoulders was lost in the dense shadows above, whilst hisassailants stood in the full glare of the setting sun, which, hot andblinding, came streaming into the shed.
Dazed by the flickering light of the furnace and the sunset glow beyond,the soldiers made very ineffectual plunges into the dark shadow, whence,fencing and parrying, and with many a quip and sally, Jack had at firstan easy task in keeping them at bay.
This was mere child's play to him; already one of the men had an uglygash in his cheek, and the next moment saw the Sergeant reelingbackwards, with a well-directed thrust through his right arm.
But easy and exciting as was this brilliant sword-play, it could not inthe long run be of much avail. Hardly had the Sergeant fallen back thanthree more soldiers, also hot and furious, came rushing in to reinforcetheir comrades. Bathurst had in his day been counted the finest fencerin England, his wrist was as fresh and strong as the steel which heheld, but the odds were beginning to accumulate against him.
Five men in the shed, and the others could not be very far away!
John Stich felt his muscles nearly cracking with the vigorous effort tomaintain his quiescent position and not to come to the rescue of hishard-pressed friend.
Suddenly one of the soldiers levelled his musket.
Patience saw it and gave a cry of horror. Stich, throwing prudence tothe winds, would have rushed forward, to prevent this awful thing at anycost, but the Sergeant, though wounded, had lost none of his zest, andhis eye had been fixed on the smith.
"Keep back the smith!" he shouted, "use your bayonets! quick!"
And as two of his men obeyed him, he himself threw his full weightagainst John, and together the three men succeeded in rendering theworthy fellow momentarily powerless.
"Captain! Captain!" he shouted desperately, "have a care!"
Of course Jack had realised his danger. The group of his assailantsstood out in every detail before him, like a clear-cut sunlit picture.But against the musket levelled at him he could do nothing, it wasLuck's chance to do him a good turn; he himself was hard pressed by twomen close to his knees.
Patience felt as if her heart would cease to beat, her impulse was torush blindly, stupidly forward, when suddenly a piping voice, vague anduncertain, was heard above the click of Jack's sword.
"Don't 'ee let 'em get 'ee, sir!" and Jock Miggs, with trembling, yetdetermined hands, gave a vigorous tug to the coat tails of the soldier,who was even now pulling the trigger of his musket. The latter, who hadbeen aiming very deliberately for the one bright patch on Jack's personcaused by the red glow of the furnace, lost his aim: there was a loudreport, and a bullet went whizzing high above Bathurst's head, andburied itself in the woodwork above him.
This was the signal for a new phase of this curious and unequalstruggle. The shepherds, at first, knowing nothing of the cause of thisquarrel, had stood open-mouthed, somewhat frightened and awaitingevents, at a short distance from the scene of the scuffle.
But when the chestnut horse had been led out into the open, theysuddenly had an inkling as to who its owner was. Jack o' Lantern,bearing the masked highwayman on his back, was well known to the poorfolk on Brassing Moor.
Beau Brocade, who but yesterday had left fifty guineas in theBrassington poor box! Beau Brocade, the hero of the Heath! He! to becaught by a parcel of red coats?
Never! Jock Miggs but voiced the feeling of the majority.
"Noa! Noa!" they shouted lustily. "Don't 'ee let 'em get 'ee, sir!"
"Not if I can help it, friends!" rejoined Bathurst in gay response.
They did not resist the soldiers; not they! Your Derbyshire yokel istoo cautious an individual to run absolutely counter to establishedauthority, but they saw their friend, their helper and benefactor, introuble and they did what they could to help him. They got in the way,jostled the soldiers when they dared, kept the attention of one or twooccupied, preventing a general onslaught on the oak table, on whichBathurst, still alert, still keen, was holding his own against suchterrible odds.
"There's for you, my gallant lobster," quoth Jack, gaily.
He was standing far back on the table, entrenched between the wall onone side and the furnace on the other, and every time one of thesoldiers ventured too near, his sword would dart out of the gloom: itseemed like a living creature of fire and steel, so quick and bold werehis feints and parries, his sudden attacks in quarte and sixte, and allthe while he kept one eye on the open Moor, where Jack o' Lantern,quivering with impatience, stood pawing the ground, and sniffing thekeen evening air, ready to carry his master away, out upon the Heath,out of sight and out of danger.
Obviously the unequal contest could not last much longer. Jack knewthat as well as any one. Already the red dots in the far distance haddrawn considerably nearer, the next few minutes would bring this freshreinforcement to the wearied, exhausted assailants.
The Sergeant too was ready to seize his best opportunity. He still kepttwo men on guard over the smith, but he soon saw that the two, who werestorming Bathurst's improvised citadel, were no match with their clumsybayonets against a brilliant fencer who, moreover, had the advantage oflight and shadow, and of his elevated position.
Though he was wounded, and bleeding profusely, he had set his heart onthe capture of this mysterious stranger, and having cast a glance on theopen Moor beyond, he saw with renewed zest two more of his men hurryingalong. With all the strength he had left he shouted to them to come on,and then turned to encourage the others.
"Take it easy, my men! Hold out a moment longer. We've got the rebelat last."
But Jack too had seen and understood. He was neither tired nor hurt,but two more men against him would inevitably prove his undoing.Already he could hear the shouts of the soldiers hurrying in response totheir Sergeant's call. The next minute they would be in the forge.
A sudden change of tactics led his two assailants to venture nearer thanthey had done hitherto; he drew back into the shadows, and they, firedby the lust of capture, under the impression that he was at lastexhausted, ventured nearer and nearer still; already they were leaningover the edge of the table, one man was thrusting at Bathurst's legs,when the latter, with a rapidity that seemed quicker than a flash oflightning, disengaged his left arm from his heavy coat, and with bothhands threw it right over the heads of the two men. Before they hadtime to release themselves from its folds, Jack, with one bound was offthe table, and the next instant he had torn open the door of the furnaceand dragged out the huge iron poker with which the smith raked his fire,and with a cry of triumph slung this new and formidable weapon high overhis head.
The effect of this sudden move was one of uncontrollable panic: thered-hot metal, as he swung it over his head, dropped a far-reachingshower of burning sparks; soldiers and Sergeant all drew backinstinctively, and Jack, still brandishing his weapon, reached theentrance and was out in the open before any one dared to stop him.
There he flung the great glowing thing in the direction of hisassailants, who even now were rallying to the attack.
But the moment had been precious to Bathurst, and Jack o' Lantern was aking among horses. Without use of stirrup or rein, Jack, like the truechild of the wild Moor that he was, flung himself upon the beautifulcreature's back.
Thus Patience saw him for one brief second, framed in the doorway of theforge, the last rays of the setting sun forming a background of crimsonand gold for his slim, upright figure, and the brown curls on his head.
It was but a moment's vision, but one she would carry enshrined in hermemory through all the years to come. His eyes, large, glowing,magnetic, met hers in a flash, and hers, bright with unshed tears, methis in quick response.
"Soldiers!" he shouted, as he ro
de away, "an you think I am a rebellord, then after me, quick! whilst I ride towards the sunset."
PART II
THE HEATH
Beau Brocade: A Romance Page 14