“´Tis safely buried, I trust, where I left it. You see, it happened in this wise: As ill luck would have it I came on a sergeant and two of his company, of Gormanstown´s regiment, I think, rifling a poor fellow who had but lately fallen, and catching sight of me through a tangle of briars that I had hoped would screen me, they called on me to stand. I could not do otherwise, for my load would not let me run. That was how I came by my knock--a shrewd one too; but for them, they will never answer to their names again till the muster roll is called at the Judgment. I must have lost my senses for a while, for when I came to reason there were we four lying stretched upon the road, but myself on the top with that devil´s box at my feet. With my load under my arm I set off again, but what with the loss of blood, and the enemy gathered round me so closely that I could not see my way through, I even crept into the shelter of a hedge and began to consider what I should do. Then it came into my mind that it were best buried out of sight for the present, and I even dug a hole for it where I sat with my sword blade; and marking the spot with what care I might--indeed, I have the record here--I went on blithely, with a great weight off my mind. That is the complete history of the venture, and I would that it had a different end.”
“It was better fortune after all than I had hoped for; but how came you to get in?”
“Oh! that was no great matter. Putting on a bold face, as though no man had a right to question me, I even saluted all that I met, inquiring what way lay Butler´s command, as one having urgent business there. It passed very well till a meddlesome captain of horse must needs take me under his protection, and know more of my business than I had a mind he should. I lied boldly and vehemently, which is a matter permissible by the laws of war, and having brought me hard by our lines at the Windmill, I even knocked him down with my fist, and ran for it as fast as my legs would carry me. They might have brought me down with their muskets had they taken time to aim, but though I heard the bullets singing about my ears, never a one touched me, and here I am in no very ill condition, after eating your supper and thanking Heaven for a merciful deliverance. And now let me hear how things fell out with you.”
Gervase told his story with little circumlocution, but dwelling, unconsciously, more than seemed necessary in a plain statement of facts, on the courage and devotion of Dorothy Carew, a thing which brought a twinkle into Macpherson´s eyes and a grave smile to his lips. Indeed, from the beginning to the end the adventure was hers, and the young soldier was only the companion who had shared her fortune in a humble way. He told how she had won the heart of Sarsfield; how she had broken down the boorish ill-will of Luttrel; and how she had carried herself throughout with a patience and fortitude that a man might envy; and all the while Macpherson watched him under his half-closed eyelids with the same grave smile upon his face. It was evident he was no less interested in the speaker than in the narrative, and when it was done he rose up and placed his hand on Gervase´s shoulder, and bade him forget that he had spoken a word in her disparagement. “God hath made few women like her, my lad,” he went on, “and had I met such another in my youth, I might not now have been the homeless vagrant that I am. Loyal she is and true, if the face and the eye have any meaning, and her voice hath a tender ring in it that might well touch a man´s heart, even if he be an old fool like myself--which indeed I think I am growing. I have come to think of you, Gervase Orme, as a son, I who never had wife or child of my own, and I think here is a woman who might make your life happier than mine has ever been.”
“Your conversion is of the suddenest,” Gervase said smiling, but the praise of Dorothy brought a warm flush of pleasure to his cheek. His love was a thing so new and so incomprehensible to himself that he preferred to dwell upon it in secret; and besides, he felt that she was so lifted above him that he dared not trust himself to speak of her. It did not come to him with surprise that Macpherson, whose cynicism he regarded as a matter of course, should have been captivated by her grace and spirit. It was the most natural thing in the world. But when he came to think of himself as her lover, the thought of his own unworthiness grew so great that it seemed to raise a barrier between them that it was a vain presumption to attempt to surmount.
So he passed lightly over Macpherson´s suggestion, and assured him that he had not forgotten the warning that he had given him before the journey began. Then, with some solicitude, he insisted on his having his wound looked to, and making use of his own wardrobe as far as it would supply his wants.
The old soldier in his careless camaraderie, was at no time loath either to lend or to borrow, and after his wound (which, he said, proved the thickness of his skull) had been dressed, arrayed himself in a clean shirt and stockings, and then lighted a pipe of fragrant Virginia, to which he had been for some time a stranger.
Gervase in the meantime had with some difficulty prevailed on Mistress Sproule to furnish him with a second supper, and as she placed it on the table she cast a look of indignation on the unconscious Macpherson. She watched him with lowering brows, blowing a cloud of smoke in his placid contentment; then her pent-up feelings broke out. “Marry,” she said, “there are some folk who care not what trouble they make in the world. To break into your house, and eat up your meat without even a ‘by your leave´, may be manners in some parts, but here we call it by a harder name.”
“In some parts where I have been,” said Macpherson grimly; “they have a bridle for the mouth of the shrew, and lead her down to the Market-place, where she stands for a warning to her neighbours. Your husband would be a happier man did the custom hold here.”
Long accustomed to an easy conquest in the domestic battle-field, she was staggered for a moment at this bold attack, but when her surprise was over, the storm broke out with renewed violence, and while Macpherson placed his fingers in his ears, Gervase intervened as a peacemaker with little success. It was only when her passion had completely exhausted itself, that she flung out of the room with a tragic stride.