Bounce it went past him, missing his legs by a foot or less. The man turn’d, and catching sight of me as I stood waving, made his way up the hill. ’Twas indeed Captain Bilty: and coming up, the honest fellow almost hugg’d me for joy.
“Was seeking thee, Jack,” he bawled: “learn’d from Sir Bevill where belike I might find thee. Left his lodging at Launceston this mornin’, and trudged ivery foot o’ the way. A thirsty land, Jack—neither horse’s meat nor man’s meat therein, nor a chair to sit down on: an’ three women only have I kiss’d this day!” He broke off and look’d at Joan. “Beggin’ the lady’s pardon for sea manners and way o’ speech.”
“Joan,” said I, “this is Billy Pottery, a good mariner and friend of mine: and as deaf as a haddock.”
Billy made a leg; and as I pointed to the road where the cavalry had just disappeared, went on with a nod—
“That’s so: old Sir G’arge Chudleigh’s troop o’ horse sent off to Bodmin to seize the High Sheriff and his posse there. Two hour agone I spied ’em, and ha’ been ever since playin’ spy.”
“Then where be the King’s forces?” I made shift to enquire by signs.
“March’d out o’ Launceston to-day, lad—an’ but a biscuit a man between ’em, poor dears—for Stratton Heath, i’ the nor’-east, where the rebels be encamp’d. Heard by scouts o’ these gentry bein’ sent to Bodmin, and were minded to fight th’ Earl o’ Stamford whiles his dragooners was away. An’ here’s the long an’ short o’t: thou’rt wanted, lad, to bear a hand wi’ us up yonder—an the good lady here can spare thee.”
And here we both look’d at Joan—I shamefacedly enough, and Billy with a puzzled air, which he tried very delicately to hide.
She put her hand in mine.
“To fight, lad?”