nephew is here, and has company.’
‘My nephew here?’ gasped the old man. ‘Good folks, will you come up to the door with me? I mean – hee – hee – just for company! Dear me, I thought my house was as quiet as a church?’
They went back to the window, and the farmer looked in, his mouth falling apart to a greater width at the corners than in the middle, and his fingers assuming a state of radiation.
‘’Tis my best silver tankards they’ve got, that I’ve never used! O! ’tis my strong beer! ’Tis eight candles guttering away, when I’ve used nothing but twenties myself for the last half-year!’
‘You didn’t know he was here, then?’ said Loveday.
‘O no!’ said the farmer, shaking his head half-way. ‘Nothing’s known to poor I! There’s my best rummers jingling as careless as if ’twas tin cups; and my table scratched, and my chairs wrenched out of joint. See how they tilt ’em on the two back legs – and that’s ruin to a chair! Ah! when I be gone he won’t find another old man to make such work with, and provide goods for his breaking, and house-room and drink for his tear-brass set!’
‘Comrades and fellow-soldiers,’ said Festus to the hot farmers and yeomen he entertained within, ‘as we have vowed to brave danger and death together, so we’ll share the couch of peace. You shall sleep here to-night, for it is getting late. My scram blue-vinnied gallicrow of an uncle takes care that there shan’t be much comfort in the house, but you can curl up on the furniture if beds run short. As for my sleep, it won’t be much. I’m melancholy! A woman has, I may say, got my heart in her pocket, and I have hers in mine. She’s not much – to other folk, I mean – but she is to me. The little thing came in my way, and conquered me. I fancy that simple girl! I ought to have looked higher – I know it; what of that? ’Tis a fate that may happen to the greatest men.’
‘Whash her name?’ said one of the warriors, whose head occasionally drooped upon his epaulettes, and whose eyes fell together in the casual manner characteristic of the tired soldier. (It was really Farmer Stubb, of Duddle Hole.)
‘Her name? Well, ’tis spelt, A, N – but, by gad, I won’t give ye her name here in company. She don’t live a hundred miles off, however, and she wears the prettiest cap-ribbons you ever saw. Well, well, ’tis weakness! She has little, and I have much; but I do adore that girl, in spite of myself!’
‘Let’s go on,’ said Anne.
‘Prithee stand by an old man till he’s got into his house!’ implored Uncle Benjy. ‘I only ask ye to bide within call. Stand back under the trees, and I’ll do my poor best to give no trouble.’
‘I’ll stand by you for half-an-hour, sir,’ said Loveday. ‘After that I must bolt to camp.’
‘Very well; bide back there under the trees,’ said Uncle Benjy. ‘I don’t want to spite ’em?’
‘You’ll wait a few minutes, just to see if he gets in?’ said the trumpet-major to Anne as they retired from the old man.
‘I want to get home,’ said Anne anxiously.
When they had quite receded behind the tree-trunks and he stood alone, Uncle Benjy, to their surprise, set up a loud shout, altogether beyond the imagined power of his lungs.
‘Man a-lost! man a-lost!’ he cried, repeating the exclamation several times; and then ran and hid himself behind a corner of the building. Soon the door opened, and Festus and his guests came tumbling out upon the green.
‘’Tis our duty to help folks in distress,’ said Festus. ‘Man a-lost, where are you?’
‘’Twas across there,’ said one of his friends.
‘No! ’twas here,’ said another.
Meanwhile Uncle Benjy, coming from his hiding-place, had scampered with the quickness of a boy up to the door they had quitted, and slipped in. In a moment the door flew together, and Anne heard him bolting and barring it inside. The revellers, however, did not notice this, and came on towards the spot where the trumpet-major and Anne were standing.
‘Here’s succour at hand, friends,’ said Festus. ‘We are all king’s men; do not fear us.’
‘Thank you,’ said Loveday; ‘so are we.’ He explained in two words that they were not the distressed traveller who had cried out, and turned to go on.
‘’Tis she! my life, ’tis she said Festus, now first recognizing Anne. ‘Fair Anne, I will not part from you till I see you safe at your own dear door.’
‘She’s in my hands,’ said Loveday civilly, though not without firmness, ‘so it is not required, thank you.’
‘Man, had I but my sword – ’
‘Come,’ said Loveday, ‘I don’t want to quarrel. Let’s put it to her. Whichever of us she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss Anne, which?’
Anne would much rather have gone home alone, but seeing the remainder of the yeomanry party staggering up she thought it best to secure a protector of some kind. How to choose one without offending the other and provoking a quarrel was the difficulty.
‘You must both walk home with me,’ she adroitly said, ‘one on one side, and one on the other. And if you are not quite civil to one another all the time, I’ll never speak to either of you again.’
They agreed to the terms, and the other yeomen arriving at this time said they would go also as rearguard.
‘Very well,’ said Anne. ‘Now go and get your hats, and don’t be long.’
‘Ah, yes; our hats,’ said the yeomanry, whose heads were so hot that they had forgotten their nakedness till then.
‘You’ll wait till we’ve got ’em – we won’t be a moment,’ said Festus eagerly.
Anne and Loveday said yes, and Festus ran back to the house, followed by all his band.
‘Now let’s run and leave ’em,’ said Anne, when they were out of hearing.
‘But we’ve promised to wait!’ said the trumpet-major in surprise.
‘Promised to wait!’ said Anne indignantly. ‘As if one ought to keep such a promise to drunken men as that. You can do as you like, I shall go.’
‘It is hardly fair to leave the chaps,’ said Loveday reluctantly, and looking back at them. But she heard no more, and flitting off under the trees, was soon lost to his sight.
Festus and the rest had by this time reached Uncle Benjy’s door, which they were discomfited and astonished to find closed. They began to knock, and then to kick at the venerable timber, till the old man’s head, crowned with a tasselled nightcap, appeared at an upper window, followed by his shoulders, with apparently nothing on but his shirt, though it was in truth a sheet thrown over his coat.
‘Fie, fie upon ye all for making such a hullaballoo at a weak old man’s door,’ he said, yawning. ‘What’s in ye to rouse honest folks at this time o’ night?’
‘Hang me – why – it’s Uncle Benjy! Haw – haw – haw?’ said Festus. ‘Nunc, why how the devil’s this? ’Tis
