"He ain't no deserter," said the idiot's mother savagely, "he wasn't never 'listed."
"Then how comes he to drum as he did?" retorted the serjeant. "Our own drummers couldn't beat better."
The woman clenched her fists in despair, and the Corporal looked very grave; but he no sooner tried to speak to the serjeant than the women again raised a yell that he was not to be trusted, and renewed their cry that they would be troubled with witches no longer, but would drown them in the river and have done with them. At last they worked themselves up into such a state of fury that the Corporal saw that they meant mischief, and said sharply to the serjeant that if he didn't look out they would take his prisoner from him. Even while he spoke they made a rush, but the serjeant had his wits about him and brought down his halberd to the charge, just in time to stop them.
"Now, enough of this," he said sternly. "I know nothing about your witches and nonsense, but this young man's my prisoner, and if you don't leave him to me it will be the worse for you. Take him along, lads."
So the drummer and fifer led the idiot down the road, while the serjeant, with his halberd still at the charge, kept the women at bay; and thus slowly they passed clear of the village while the women and children, after following for a time with yells and execrations, at last dropped behind.
"Now, mistress," said the serjeant to the idiot's mother, "you'd best look out for yourself, I expect, and go away."
The woman turned upon him with a scornful laugh. "Do you suppose I be afraid of they?" she said. "Not I; and if 'ee think that I'm a going to leave my boy—here, let mun go," she said resolutely, shoving away the drummer's arm—"you've naught against mun. I tell 'ee he wasn't never 'listed."
The serjeant removed her hand instantly. "None of that," he said. "You can come along with him as far as you will, but the justice will see to the rest to-morrow morning."
The woman glanced at the Corporal in despair, but the Corporal could only shake his head. "Best go quietly along with him, mistress," he said; "I'll go to her Ladyship and do what I can." Then he turned to the serjeant and said: "I believe you've got hold of the wrong man; for this is only a poor half-witted lad, not the man that you want. Don't be hard on him."
"Not I, if he gives no trouble," said the serjeant. So he went on with his charge along the road to Kingstoke, the idiot staggering along on his mother's arm between the fifer and the drummer, and he himself walking behind. And the Corporal limped up over the park as quickly as he could to the Hall.