"'Why, how cold you are!' cried the viscount.
"'And how can you expect me to be otherwise,' replied La Vacherie, in a terrible voice, 'when you left me out there in the trenches through two long January nights?' and that moment he jumped out of bed, threw open the window, and went off. His body was found next morning where he had been killed two days before."
Arrah Neil was silent; but Falgate, who, while riding on at his slow pace had kept one ear always open to his companion's story, turned round and asked, "But what became of the viscount?"
"Why, when the town capitulated," replied Barecolt, "he went into a Capuchin convent, and was called Father Henry.--But, hark! There is the sound of a trumpet, by the Lord Harry! Gallop, Falgate! gallop! or I'll drive my sword through you!" and at the same time he drew the weapon and pricked forward the horse of his companion with the point.
The Galloway, for it deserved no higher title, started on, lashing out behind in a manner that had nearly sent the poor painter out of the saddle and over its head; but when once the beast had fairly started in a gallop, Falgate found his seat much more comfortable than at a trot; and away the whole party went at full speed over hill and dale for about a mile and a half, when suddenly, to Barecolt's surprise, the sound of a trumpet was again heard upon his left nearer than before. After pausing for a moment to listen, he made up his mind that whatever body of men were near, they did not come from the side of Hull; but judging that when escorting treasure or a lady he should best show his valour by discretion, the renowned captain turned sharp off from the high-road down a lane to his right, and after having gone rather more than one mile in that direction, through pleasant rows of trees, without hearing any more of the sounds which had alarmed him, he pulled up at a house, from the front of which a pole bearing a garland protruded over the road, indicating that some sort of entertainment would there be found for way-faring travellers.
"We will here water our horses, Mistress Arrah," he said; "and keeping in mind that we may not find loyal subjects in every house, we will refresh the inner man with gravity and moderation;" and assuming a sad and sanctimonious air, he addressed a dry-looking man who presented himself, asking if they could obtain wherewithal to strengthen themselves for their further journey. A ready affirmative was given, and, aiding Arrah Neil from her horse, Barecolt led her in, and then, never forgetting his military habits, returned to see that the beasts were taken care of. The landlord followed him out, and the worthy captain continued to eye him with a considerate glance as he aided in washing the horses' mouths and taking out their bits. By the time this was accomplished, Barecolt's opinion of his companion was completely formed, and when the latter remarked, "You seem to have been riding very bard, master," he replied in a solemn tone, much to the astonishment of Diggory Falgate--
"Yea, verily have we, for the sound of a trumpet met our ears, and we feared, being few in number, to fall in with a party of the swaggering malignants who we hear are riding about the country. Wilt thou get the horses, little corn, my friend?"
"Right willingly, master," replied the host; "I see thou art a godly man, and I am glad to serve thee."
The moment he was gone, Barecolt whispered to Falgate, who had remained silent, partly from fatigue and partly from surprise, "We must cozen the crop-eared knave. Whine, cant, and look devout, Master Falgate, and forget your swagger if you can."
"By St. Winifred!" replied Falgate, "this rough beast has taken all the swagger out of me. I can hardly stand, captain."