The light of the candle which the Captain carried made Ben stir, and open drowsy eyes, but after muttering something inaudible, he slid back into slumber. The Captain carried a pillow and an armful of blankets into the kitchen, and made up the fire. Chirk, hauling off his cracked boots, said that he had slept on many worse beds.
Turning down the lamp on the table, John bethought him of something, and said: “Chirk, where’s the Wansbeck ford? Do you know?”
Chirk set his boots down carefully side by side. “No, I can’t say as I do. Which ford?”
“The Wansbeck. Have you ever heard of it?”
“Wansbeck,” repeated Chirk, a slight frown between his eyes. “Seems to me as though I know that name, but I can’t just think where I’ve heard it.” He scratched his chin reflectively. “Blessed if I can place it!” he said. “I’d say I’d never been there, but I got a feeling——” An irrepressible yawn broke off this utterance. He shook his head. “I can’t call it to mind, but I daresay it’ll come back to me.”
“Tell me if it does!” John said.
He then withdrew to his own bed, and, no one demanding his attendance on the gate, passed an untroubled night.
He possessed the soldier’s faculty of waking at what hour he chose, and got up at dawn to discover that Chirk shared it. The fire was burning brightly, and the kettle was already singing. John at once made tea, and Chirk, finding some cold bacon in the cupboard, clapped a hunk on to a slice of bread, and consumed it, observing that there was no knowing when he would get his breakfast. He then went off to saddle the mare, while John roused Ben, and told him he was off to exercise Beau. Under his father’s rule, it had always been Ben’s duty to attend to any early wayfarers, and since the dawn-light was creeping in at the little window he raised no demur, merely yawning, and knuckling his eyes.
A few minutes later, the Captain joined Chirk by the hedge skirting Farmer Huggate’s field, Beau snatching playfully at the bit, and dancing on his impatient hooves. He had strapped his great cloak to the saddle, but although he had pulled on his boots, he had not chosen to subject his only coat to whatever rigours might be in store, and he wore only his leather waistcoat over a flannel shirt.
“No sense in going by the road,” said Chirk. “If that highbred ’un of yours can take a fence or two, we’ll edge round by way of the fields.”