CHAPTER XXV
SUCCESS AND DISAPPOINTMENT
Thus it was that when Sir Humphrey Challoner, after his lengthyinterview with Mittachip, stepped out of the porch of the Royal Georgeon his way to the Court House, he found the village green singularlyanimated.
A number of yokels, including quite a goodly contingent of women andyoungsters, were crowding round Master Inch, the beadle, who was ringinghis bell violently and shouting at the top of his lusty voice,--
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Take note that a robber, vagabond and thief is inhiding in this village."
Interested in the scene, Sir Humphrey had paused a moment, watching thepompous beadle and the crowd of gaffers and women. He still carried hisriding-crop, and flicked it with a certain pleasurable satisfactionagainst his boot, eagerly anticipating the moment when the village crierwould be giving forth in the same stentorian tones the description ofBeau Brocade, the highwayman.
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" continued Master Inch, with ever-increasingvigour. "Take note that this vagabond is apparelled in a brown coat,embroidered waistcoat, buff nether garments and riding-boots. Oyez!Oyez! Oyez! take note that he carried with him this morning agold-headed riding-whip, that he is tall and slightly rotund in hiscorporation and has raven hair slightly attenuated with grey.
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! take note that if any of you observate such aperson as I have just descriptioned, you are to apprise me of thisinstantaneously, so that I may take him by force and violence even intothe presence of his Honour.
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!"
The gaffers were putting their heads together, whilst the young oneswhispered eagerly,--
"Brown coat! ... embroidered waistcoat! ... a gold-headed whip!..."
Nay, 'twas often enough that Master Inch had to cry out the descriptionof some wretched vagabond in hiding in the village, but it was not usualthat such an one was attired in the clothes of a gentleman.
It even struck Sir Humphrey as very strange, and he pushed through thegroup of yokels to hear more clearly Master Inch's renewed descriptionof the rogue.
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!"
At first the interest in Master Inch's pompous words was so keen thatSir Humphrey remained practically unnoticed. One or two villagers,noting that a gentleman was amongst them, respectfully made way for him,then one youngster, struck by a sudden idea, stated at him and whisperedto his neighbour,--
"He's got a brown coat on..."
"Aye!" whispered the other in reply, "and an embroiderated waistcoattoo."
Some of them began crowding around Sir Humphrey, so that he raised hiswhip and muttered angrily,--
"What the devil are ye all staring at?"
It was at this very moment that Master Inch suddenly caught sight ofhim, just in the very middle of a stentorian,--
"Oyez!"
He gave one tremendous gasp, the bell dropped our of his hand, his jawfell, his round, beady eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
"'Tis him!" murmured the yokel, who stood close to his ear.
This remark brought back Master Inch to his senses and to the importanceof his position. He raised his large hand above his head and brought itdown with a tremendous clap on Sir Humphrey Challoner's shoulder.
"Aye! 'tis him!" he shouted lustily, "and be gy! he's got guilt writ allover his face, and 'tis a mighty ugly surface!"
Sir Humphrey, taken completely by surprise, was positively purple withrage.
"Death and hell!" he cried, clutching his riding-whip significantly."What's the meaning of this?"
But already the younger men, full of excitement and eagerness, hadclosed round him, impeding his movements, whilst two more lusty fellowsincontinently seized him by the collar. They felt neither respect norsympathy for a vagabond attired in gentleman's clothes.
Sir Humphrey tried to shake himself free, whilst the beadle majesticallyreplied,--
"You'll have it explanated to you, friend, before his Honour!"
The excitement and lust of capture was growing apace.
"Got him!" shouted most of the men.
"Showin' his ugly face in broad daylight!" commented the women.
"Hold him tight, beadle," was the universal admonition.
"You rascal! you dare!..." gasped Sir Humphrey, struggling violently,and shaking a menacing fist in the beadle's face.
"Silence!" commanded Master Inch, with supreme dignity.
"I'll have you whipped for this!"
But this aroused the beadle's most awesome ire.
"To the stocks with him!" he ordered, "he insultates the Majesty of theLaw!"
"You low-born knave! Aye! you'll hang for this!"
It was all this clamour that at last aroused Master Mittachip in theparlour of the Royal George from the happy day-dreams in which he wasindulging. At first he took no count of it, then he quietly strolled upto the window and undid the casement, to ascertain what all the tumultwas about.
What he did see nearly froze the thin blood within his veins. He wouldhave cried out, but his very throat contracted with the horror of thespectacle which he beheld.
There! across the village green, he saw Sir Humphrey Challoner, hisnoble patron, the Squire of Hartington, being clapped into the villagestocks, whilst a crowd of yokels, the clumsy, ignorant d----d louts!were actually pelting his Honour with carrots, turnips and potatoes!
Oh! was the world coming to an end? There! a peck of peas hit SirHumphrey straight in the eye. No wonder his Honour was purple, he wouldhave a stroke of apoplexy for sure within the next five minutes.
At last Master Mittachip recovered the use of his limbs. With one boundhe was out of the inn parlour, and had pushed past mine host andhostess, who, as ignorant as were all the other villagers of theirguest's name and quality, were watching the scene from the porch, andholding their sides with laughter.
Jack Bathurst had watched it all from the window of the Court House: hisdare-devil, madcap scheme had succeeded beyond his most sanguine hopes.When he saw Sir Humphrey Challoner actually clapped in the villagestocks, with the pompous beadle towering over him, like the sumptuousMajesty of the Law, he could have cried out in wild merry glee.
But Jack was above all a man of prompt decision and quick action. Forhis own life he cared not one jot, and would gladly have laid it downfor the sake of the woman he loved with all the passionate ardour of hisromantic temperament, but with him, as with every other human being,self-preservation was the greatest and most irresistible law. He hadreadily imperilled his safety in order to obtain possession of theletters, which meant so much happiness to his beautiful white rose: butthis done, he was ready to do battle for his own life, and to sell hisfreedom as dearly as may be.
He hoped that he had effectually accomplished his purpose through thearrest of Sir Humphrey Challoner, whose pockets Master Inch was even nowdeliberately searching, in spite of vigorous protests and terriblelanguage from his Honour. His heart gave a wild leap of joy when he sawthe beadle presently hurrying across the green and holding a paper inhis hand. It looked small enough--not a packet, only a single letter:but if it were the momentous one, then indeed would all risks, allperils seem as nothing when weighed against the happiness of havingrendered _her_ this service.
But Jack also saw Master Mittachip darting panic-stricken out of the innopposite. He knew of course that within the next few moments--secondsperhaps--the fraud would be discovered and Sir Humphrey Challonerliberated, amidst a shower of abject apologies from the Squire andparish of Brassington combined. What the further consequences of it allwould be to himself was not difficult to foresee.
He looked behind him. The Squire was sitting at his desk, apparentlytaking no notice of the noise and shouting outside. Down below, JohnStich, who had been watching the scene on the green with the utmostdelight, stood ready, holding Jack o' Lantern by the bridle. In amoment, with a few courteous words to the Squire, Bathurst had hurriedout of the Court House. He met the bead
le at the door, who, paper inhand, conscious of his own importance and flurried with wrath, washurrying to report the important arrest to Squire West.
Bathurst stopped him with a quick,--
"'Twas well done, Master Inch!"
And pressing a couple of guineas into the beadle's hand, he added,--
"Her ladyship will further repay when you've found the rest of herproperty. In the meanwhile, these, I presume, are the letters shelost."
"Only one letter, sir," said Master Inch, as somewhat taken off hispompous guard he allowed Jack to take the paper from him.
There was not a minute to be lost. Master Mittachip, having vainlytried to harangue the yokels, who were still pelting his Honour withmiscellaneous vegetables, was now hurrying to the Court House as fast ashis thin legs would carry him.
Bathurst took one glance at the paper which Master Inch had given him.A cry of the keenest disappointment escaped his lips.
"What is it, Captain?" asked John Stich, who had anxiously been watchinghis friend's face.
"Nothing, friend," replied Bathurst, "only a receipt and tally for somesheep."
John Stich uttered a violent oath.
"And the scoundrel'll escape with a shower of potatoes and no morepunishment than the stocks. And you've risked your life, Captain, fornothing!"
"Nay! not for nothing, honest friend," said Jack, in a hurried whisper,as he mounted Jack o' Lantern with all the speed his helpless arm wouldallow. "Do you go back to her ladyship as fast as you can. Beg herfrom me not to give up hope, but to feign an illness and on no accountspeak to anyone about the events of to-day until she has seen me again.You understand?"
"Aye! aye! Captain!"
At this moment there came a wild cry from the precincts of the CourtHouse, and Master Mittachip, accompanied by Squire West himself, andclosely followed by the beadle, were seen tearing across the greentowards the village stocks.
"The truth is out, friend," shouted Jack, as pressing his knees againstJack o' Lantern's sides, and giving the gallant beast one cry ofencouragement, he galloped away at break-neck speed out towards theMoor.