CHAPTER II
The Two Dragoons on the Brockenhurst Road
"Leave me and shape your own course, Master Hammond!" exclaimed theCaptain composedly, for he had regained both his breath and hiswits. "You can do no more, and I'll warrant I can shift for myself."
So saying, he wriggled along the ground over the bank that screenedus from the soldiers, and lay hidden in the bracken on the same sideof the highway as the troopers.
Meanwhile, filled with anxiety on the behalf of Jeremy Miles--for hewas always a general favourite amongst the youths in and aroundLymington--Constance and I resumed our way, endeavouring to appearas unconcerned as possible.
Less than a minute must have passed since we saw Captain Miles'sgreat frame disappear beneath the bracken, when we heard the clatterof the troopers' horses as their hoofs struck the road. Knowing thatit would ill play our part to refrain from curiosity, we stopped andlooked back at the pursuing soldiers.
They were of the same troop that we had seen in Lyndhurst a shorthalf-hour ago. Great, swarthy men they were, hardened to cruelty byreason of their service at Tangiers, and, though I knew it not atthe time, ready to practise the barbarities acquired from the Moorsupon their own countrymen, as many a poor peasant of the marshes ofSomerset had learned to his cost.
"Curse him!" exclaimed one, with an oath. "Where hath he gone? Arewe to let a guinea slip through our fingers after all our trouble?"
"He's not far away," replied his comrade, pointing with anexclamation of triumph to the partially concealed tracks on theroad. "See, he hath had a fall. Methinks we have him by the heels."
"'Tis like looking for a sprat in the ocean," returned the firsttrooper, gazing across the wilderness of gorse. "So long as he stuckto his mount we could have tracked him. 'Tis what I feared: he hathmade off afoot."
"Here, sirrah," he shouted to me, urging his horse down the road towhere we were, "hast seen aught of a horseman riding likeBeelzebub?"
"Nay," I replied truthfully enough; "no horseman has passed thisway."
"You young prevaricator!" he exclaimed, tapping his pistolssignificantly. "You do but dissemble. You know whither that manwent."
I kept silence.
Suddenly the other trooper, who had forced his horse through thegorse by the side of the road, shouted, "Here's a find, David. Therogue hath lost his horse."
"Then you saw him fall," continued the dragoon who had overtaken us."Back you come with me, you young rebel!"
"I am no rebel," I replied, as stoutly as I could force myself tospeak.
"Back, I say!" he repeated, ignoring my protest, and producing apistol from his holster. There was no help for it. I had to go withhim. "Run off home, Constance," I said in a low voice; "I shall beall right."
"No, you don't, you little wench!" exclaimed the villain. "You'llcome in useful to make this young rebel open his mouth. Come on,both of you, I say!"
I looked at Constance. She was deathly white, yet she spoke not aword, although by the expression of her eyes she said, as plainly asif she had spoken, "Do not tell where he is."
"Mum's the word, eh?" was the greeting of the second trooper, as wewere told to stand still near the scene of our meeting with thefugitive, Captain Miles. "Shall I tell 'em about that stubborn youngrebel at Dulverton--it was Dulverton, wasn't it, David?--who thoughtto deceive one of Cornbury's Dragoons? A little tow tied to histhumbs did the trick, and I'll swear he's nursing his burns now.There's no tow to be had hereabouts, but I'll warrant a little dryheather will suffice. Now, sirrah, which way did the rebel go?"
"What! you won't answer?" he continued, as he dismounted from hishorse, his comrade following his example. Whipping out hisbroadsword, he struck me a heavy blow on the ankle with the flat ofthe weapon. The pain was intense, yet, though an involuntary cryescaped me, I kept my lips tightly closed.
I gave a hasty look right and left along the straight white road.Not a creature was in sight. Even if there had been, 'twas difficultto imagine that a solitary wayfarer would dare to interfere with twoarmed and powerful ruffians.
"Pluck me a wisp of dry grass," said my tormentor.
"Nay, Jim," replied the other, "we've no time to waste in thatfashion. If the rebel is making off afoot, every moment is precious.I know of a way." And, thrusting his huge fingers through mysister's golden locks, he shouted, "Now, sirrah, answer, or I'llpull out a handful of hair, to remember this pleasant meeting."
Constance cried with pain as the villain slowly tightened his grip.Knowing he was quite capable of carrying out his threat, I was tornwith conflicting thoughts, till my brave sister exclaimed, "Not aword, Clifford!"
Possibly the rogue answering to the name of Jim realized mydesperate intention, for at the risk of my life I was on the pointof dashing my clenched fist in the face of Constance's assailant.With his right hand the dragoon gripped me by the nape of the neck,so that in his powerful grasp I was as helpless as a kitten; whilewith his left he caught and slowly twisted my wrist.
Suddenly a huge, dark form sprang from the concealing heather, andlike an arrow from a bow Jeremy Miles flung himself upon the dragoonwhose fingers were still grasping Constance's tresses.
I saw it all as clearly as if 'twere the work of minutes rather thanof one instant. A swinging blow of the Captain's ponderous fist, andthe ruffian's arm fell nerveless to his side; and a second blowstretched him lifeless on the ground. The other dragoon, with afurious oath, flung me headlong. As I fell I heard the crashingexplosion of his pistol.
Slowly I raised myself on my arm, and watched the struggle betwixtour preserver and his antagonist. Powerful though the trooper was,the Captain, thanks to his strenuous life afloat, was his master.For a while they swayed to and fro in a desperate struggle, Jeremy'sarms clasping the soldier like bands of steel, till the villain'sresistance grew weaker and weaker.
Then, with a superhuman effort, Captain Miles wrenched his bulky foeclean off the ground, and hurled him, like a sack of flour, over hisshoulder.
"Bear a hand with your sister, lad," he then exclaimed, in amatter-of-fact tone, although he was breathing heavily. "She hasswooned."
This was a work of some difficulty, for water was not at hand, butat length Constance opened her eyes. Poor girl! Although not muchhurt, for the rogue had not had time to carry out his threat to thefullest extent, she was terribly frightened, and the sight of thetwo dragoons lying motionless on the road did not help matters.
"Take her down the road a little way, and make her sit down," saidCaptain Jeremy kindly. "Then hasten back, for I'll warrant we've afine job to make all shipshape and Bristol fashion."
"Have you seen any more of these lubbers?" he asked, after I hadreturned from carrying out his instructions.
"There was a troop of them in Lyndhurst this morning. They wentSouthampton-wards."
"I'll pray that they'll not return in a hurry," he exclaimed. "We'veenough to do to cover up our tracks."
"Are they dead?" I asked shudderingly.
"As a marline-spike," he replied. "For the time we are safe; theywere the only ones that battened themselves to me. The Duke istaken. I saw him seized by some of Portman's Militia near Ringwoodbut yesterday. Faith! I was disappointed in King Monmouth, for hefled from the field long before his men began to give way."
"And how did you escape?"
"'Twas touch and go. Monmouth, in a peasant's dress, lay hidden insome ferns, I but ten yards away. Little did I think 'twas the Duketill I heard Portman say as 'twas. I suppose that find satisfiedthem, for they searched no more. Farmer Shearing of Ringwood lent mehis mare, and I rode off early this morning, intending to shape acourse for Pitt's Deep, for 'twould have been madness to return toLymington. Master Hammond, I was a fool even to set out for theWest. What I've seen in forty years afloat is naught to what I'veseen these last few days. But let's to work!"
We thereupon dragged the bodies of the troopers into the bracken,and carefully obliterated all signs of the struggle. The troopers'horses were contentedly nibbl
ing the coarse grass by the roadside,our pony Trotter having followed Constance.
They were fine animals, these dragoons' mounts, and I wondered whatwould become of them. The same question evidently troubled CaptainMiles, for if they came within hearing of a trumpet call they wouldmost likely trot off to rejoin their fellows. Yet, as there were notroopers within several miles of us, the horses might be taken bysome of the peasants who lived on the outskirts of the heath,especially if we removed the saddlery.
"Nay, 'tis too much of a risk," muttered Jeremy to himself, though Iheard the words; and, lifting the fore-foot of one of the animals,he examined its hoof. There, in a manner that could not be effaced,were the royal monogram and regimental number; while a furthersearch revealed the government mark branded on the creature's flank.
"Those marks are their death warrant," he exclaimed.
"How so?"
"No man cares for a dumb animal more than I do," he replied. "Yet,when human life and liberty are at stake, it behoves us to takestern measures. Now, I pray you, take your sister home, and returnspeedily with a pair of serviceable spades."
So saying, he led the two animals aside into the gorse, while Ihastened to rejoin Constance. We had barely gone a hundred paceswhen a pistol shot rang out, quickly followed by another.
"What sound is that?" asked my sister.
"'Tis but naught," I replied, not daring to tell her the plaintruth. "Captain Miles has unloaded the troopers' pistols."
The Quest of the 'Golden Hope': A Seventeenth Century Story of Adventure Page 3