Read Beau Brocade: A Romance Page 17


  CHAPTER XVII

  A FAITHFUL FRIEND

  How long he stood there on the spur of the hill he could not afterwardshave told. It may have been a few seconds, perhaps it was an eternity.

  During those few seconds or that eternity, the world was re-created forhim: for him it became more beautiful than he had ever conceived it inhis dreams. A woman's smile had changed it into an earthly paradise. Anew and strange happiness filled his being, and set brain and sinews onfire. A happiness so great that his heart well nigh broke with theburden of it, and the bitter longing for what could never be.

  The cry of a moorhen thrice repeated at intervals roused him from hisdreams.

  "John Stich," he murmured, "I wonder now what brings him out to-night!"

  And with a final sigh of deep regret, a defiant toss of the head, BeauBrocade turned Jack o' Lantern's head northwards whence the cry hadcome.

  There a rough track, scarce perceptible amongst the bracken, ledstraight up to the forge of John Stich. Horse and rider knew every inchof the way, although for the moment the fitful moon still hid her lightbehind a bank of clouds, and the mist now enveloped the Moor in a thickmantle of gloom.

  Soon the sensitive ears of the highwayman, accustomed to every sound,had perceived heavy footsteps on the unbeaten track, and presently aburly figure detached itself from the darkness beyond and came rapidlyforward.

  "Odd's my life! but it's friend John!" said Beau Brocade, with a greatshow of severity. "Zounds! but this is rank insubordination! How dareyou follow me on the Heath, you villain, and leave your noble guestunprotected? What?"

  "His lordship is safe enough, Captain," said the smith, who at sight ofthe young man had heaved an obvious sigh of relief, "and I could notrest until I'd seen you again."

  "Faith! you can't do that in this confounded mist, eh, John?" quothBathurst, lightly. But his fresh young voice had softened with a quainttenderness, whilst he looked down, smiling, at the upturned face of hisdevoted friend.

  "Well! what about my friend, the Sergeant and the soldiers, eh?" headded gaily.

  "Oh! the Sergeant is too sick to speak," rejoined the smith, earnestly,"but the men vow you're a rebel lord. Those that were fit walked downto Brassington directly after you left: one man, who was wounded in thearm, started for Aldwark: they've gone to get help, Captain; either moresoldiers, or loafers from the villages who may be tempted by the reward.They'll scour this Heath for you, from Aldwark to the cross-roads, andfrom Brassington to Wirksworth, and..."

  "And so much the better, friend Stich, for while they hunt for me hislordship will be safe."

  "But have a care, Captain! they're determined men, now, for you'vefooled them twice. Be gy! but you've never been in so tight a cornerbefore."

  "Pshaw!" quoth Beau Brocade, lightly, "life is none too precious a boonfor me that I should make an effort to save it."

  "Captain..." murmured Stich, reproachfully.

  "There, friend John," added the young man, with that same touch ofalmost womanly tenderness, that had endeared him to the heart of honestStich, "there! there! have no fear for me! I tell thee, man, they'llnot get me on this Heath! Think you the furze and bracken, the heron orpeewit would betray me? Me, their friend! Not they! I am safeenough!" he continued, while a strange ring of excitement made his youngvoice quiver. "Let them after me, and leave _her_ brother in peace! Andthen, John! when he is safe ... perhaps I may see her smile once more!... Heigh-ho! A fool am I, friend! A fool, I tell thee! fit for thegallows-tree outside thy forge!"

  John said nothing: he could not see Jack's face in the gloom, and didnot understand his wild, mad mood, but his faithful heart ached to hearthe ring of bitter longing in the voice of his friend.

  There was a moment's pause, whilst Bathurst made a visible effort tocontrol his excitement. Then he said more calmly,--

  "Here, John! take this money, friend!"

  He dived in the pocket of his big caped coat and then placed in John'shand the two bags of money he had extracted from Master Mittachip andhis clerk.

  "I've just got it from a blood-sucking agent of Sir HumphreyChalloner's: 'tis money wrung from poor people, who can ill afford it."

  "Aye! aye!" quoth John, with a sigh.

  "I want two guineas to go to Mistress Haddakin, who has just lost herhusband: the poor wretch is nigh to starving. Then thirty shillings arefor the Widow Coggins, up Hartington way: those blood-suckers took herlast shilling yesterday. Wilt see to it, friend John?"

  "Aye! aye!"

  "The rest is for the poor box at Aldwark this time. Perhaps there'll bemore before the morn."

  "Captain..."

  "Hush! don't begin to lecture, John!" said Beau Brocade, with curiousearnestness. "I tell thee, friend, there's madness in my veinsto-night. I pray thee go back home, and leave me to myself."

  "Don't send me away, Captain," pleaded John, "I ... I ... am uneasy,and..."

  "Dear, kind, faithful John," murmured Bathurst. "Zounds! but I'm anungrateful wretch, for I vow thou dost love me, friend."

  "You know I do, Captain. I ... I ... I'd give..."

  "Nay ... nothing!" interrupted Jack, quickly, "give me nothing but thatlove of thine, friend ... it is more precious than life ... but I praythee, let me be to-night ... I swear to thee I'll do no harm.... I'llsee thee in the morn, John.... I'll be safe ... never fear!"

  John Stich sighed. He knew that further protest was useless. AlreadyBeau Brocade had turned Jack o' Lantern's head once more towards thecrest of the hill. The smith waited awhile, listening while he could tothe sound of the horse's hoofs on the rain-sodden earth. His honestheart was devoured with anxiety both for his friend and for the braveyoung lady who was journeying townwards to-night.

  Suddenly it seemed to him as if far away he could hear the creaking ofwheels on the distant Wirksworth road. The air was so still, thatpresently he could hear it quite distinctly. 'Twas her ladyship'scoach, no doubt, plying its slow, wearying way along the quaggy road.

  It would be midway to the little town by now. The narrow track on whichJohn stood cut the road at right angles, about a mile and a half away.The smith took to blaming himself that he had kept her ladyship'sjourney a secret from Beau Brocade. The latter was a monarch on theHeath: he would have kept footpads at bay, watched and guarded thecoach, and seen it, mayhap, safely as far as Wirksworth.

  Never for a moment did the slightest fear cross the smith's mind thatthe notorious highwayman would stop Lady Patience's coach. Still, awarning would not have come amiss. Perhaps it was not too late. Theroad wound in and out a good deal, skirting bogland or massive boulders.John hoped that on the path he might yet come across Jack o' Lantern andhis master, before they had met the coach.

  He started to run and had covered nearly a mile when suddenly he heard ashout, which made his honest heart almost stop in its beating, a shout,followed by two pistol shots in rapid succession.

  The shout had rung out clear and distinct in the fresh, lusty voice ofBeau Brocade.

  "Stand and deliver!"

  John dared not think what the pistol shots had meant.

  With elbows now pressed to his sides, he began running at a wild gallopalong the rough, unbeaten track, towards the point whence shots andshout had come.