"O sir," she sighed, "I may prefer such to Major—Prudery—d'Arcy!" and setting aside a bramble-shoot she went on into the wood, and, when he would have followed, checked him with an imperious gesture. "Come no further, sir, here be thorns to spoil gay finery—and besides," she added, glancing back at him with merciless eyes, "your sober airs annoy me, your lofty virtue is an offence—pray suffer me to go alone!"
The Major flushed painfully, took off his hat and bowed.
"As you will, madam!" said he and, stepping aside, watched her go until the leaves had hidden her from sight. Then, putting on his hat, he took a score or so of slow strides away and as many slow strides back again, until, being come some little way in among the trees, he halted to listen. Faint and far he caught a rustle, a leafy stirring that told where she moved and, guided by this he began to follow into the depths of the wood. Suddenly he paused to listen intently, cane grasped in powerful fist, then hurried on at speed, choosing his way with quick, soldierly eye and making very little sound for all his haste and so reached a little clearing.
She stood, back set to a tree, hands gripping her basket, head erect and defiant but in her wide eyes a sickening fear as she fronted a tall, burly, gipsy-looking fellow who carried a knobby bludgeon and whose eyes, heedful and deliberate, roved over her trembling loveliness and whose hairy lips curled as he slowly advanced. Then the Major stepped out from the leaves, his gait unhurried and limping a little as was usual. But at sight of him my lady, uttering a gasp, let fall her basket almost forgetting shuddering fear in amazement as she beheld the face that looked out between the precise curls of the Major's great periwig. The gipsy fellow saw it also, and, reading its expression aright, sprang immediately to a defensive posture and spoke between a growl and a whine:
"What now, master? There be no harm done, sir—nought but a bit o' pleasantry wi' a country wench!" The Major neither spoke nor altered his leisurely advance until, coming within striking distance, he leapt. Heavy bludgeon whirled, long cane whizzed and the fellow, uttering a hoarse gasp, dropped his weapon and gave back, clutching at useless, dangling limb. But the Major's long arm rose and fell, beating the man to his knees, to his face; even then, as the fellow writhed helpless, those merciless blows rained down tirelessly until a voice cried:
"Don't! Don't! Ah, Major John—you'll kill him!" The Major stepped back, panting a little.
"Kill him," he repeated gently, "why no, mam, no—his sort take a vast deal of killing. I would but give him such a—er—reminder as shall not fade awhile."
"Nay sir, no more, I beg! And see, your cane is broke——"
"Why so 'tis!" said the Major and tossing it aside he picked up the knobby bludgeon, seeing which Lady Betty caught his arm and held it:
"Nay, you are cruel—cruel! You shall not, I say. He has enough!"