Chapter Twenty Two.
My heart beat faster than ever at his words, and as the troop advanced at a walk, wheeled, and then came along towards us, I felt that the time had nearly come, and offered up a short prayer for help, strength, and protection; for never before had the world seemed to me so beautiful, or life so sweet. For the moment, I felt as if I should certainly be killed in the encounter so near; and in a desperate mood I told myself that it did not matter, so long as the honour of our troop was redeemed by the rescue of the guns from the mutineers. Then, with the quickness of thought, I dwelt on my father getting the news, and quietly breaking it to my mother and sister, who would bitterly weep for me; and I thought of their wearing mourning, and I hoped that my father would feel proud of what I had done, and have a marble tablet put up to my memory in the old Devon church, near which I was born. In fact, so vividly picturesque were those thoughts which flashed through me, that I could see in imagination the bent, mourning figures of my mother and sister standing before the marble tablet.
I was just building up some more sentimental nonsense about myself—for I’m afraid that just at that period I was very romantic, and fond of thinking too much of Gil Vincent—when I was brought back to the present by Brace.
“Look at them,” he cried. “They are going through that movement remarkably well. Be careful, and don’t show yourself.”
I shrank back a little among the trees, and for a few minutes we watched the troop go through some of the regular evolutions, passing us on their way down the plain, at a distance of about two hundred yards, and I trembled lest our horses should select that moment for whinnying or trying to break away. But they were quiet, and the cavalcade went slowly on at a walk towards where our men ought to be in ambush.
Then I turned to look at Brace, whose left hand was fidgeting with the hilt of his sword, lifting it nervously, and dropping it again as he watched the guns; and I could see the veins in his temples throbbing heavily.
“Why does he not act?” I said to myself. “We shall lose our chance.”
And on went the troop till they were nearly half a mile to our left, and I was in despair.