One of the Six Hundred: A Novel
bull-terrier, with a huge head and close-shorn ears, was close to his
heels. His hand was held forth for charity, and he was fully prepared
to enforce that good quality.
Alarmed by the appearance of the fellow, who might very well have passed
for a twin brother of Bill Sykes, the young lady hovered with
irresolution on the upper step of the stile, and said, timidly--
"Permit me to pass, if you please, sir."
"Not without giving me summut, marm; and I tell yer I ain't neither sir
nor mister, but just Bill Potkins," growled the fellow. "I've a darned
good mind to set this ere dog at your ankles!"
"But I repeat to you that I have left my purse at home," she urged.
"You have left it at whoam have yer; that is all gammon, for I knows
yer, for all yer dainty airs, and the captain too, for the matter o'
that. Shall I tell his name?" he asked with a scowl, while he surveyed
her all over, as if looking for something to snatch ar wrench away; but
she seemed destitute of ornaments.
"Yes, I have indeed left it; but for pity sake allow me to pass," she
said, faintly, and then, gathering strength, added, "Moreover, fellow,
you must."
"Criky; that's a good 'un--must I really now?"
"Yes, please," returned the young girl, in tears.
"Well, I sha'n't then--not till I've overhauled your pockets, and
rummaged yer a bit, and that's all about it."
In a moment his ruffianly hands were upon her; the girl uttered a shrill
scream and he a ferocious oath. I spurred forward my horse, reined him
in with dragoon-like precision, and with the butt-end of my riding-whip
dealt the would-be thief a blow which tumbled him in a heap at the foot
of the stile.
With a terrible malediction, while the blood poured over his face, he
staggered up, stooped his head, and thrusting his hat well over his
eyes, was rushing on with uplifted cudgel, when I dexterously dealt him
cut "one" full on the face, and made my horse rear for the purpose of
riding him down. On this he uttered a yell, forced his way through the
hedge, and taking to flight, disappeared, with his bull terrier barking
furiously at his heels.
The young lady whom I had saved by such timely succour was still
standing, pale and trembling, on the summit of the stile, irresolute
which way to turn, when I dismounted, and throwing the reins over my
arm, lifted my hat, and expressing the great satisfaction it afforded me
to have been of such timely service, I offered my hand and assisted her
to descend.
She thanked me in an agitated voice, and with a hurried manner, in
language which was well chosen, but seemed perfectly natural to her.
I now perceived that she was older than her slender figure at first
suggested. She seemed to be about five-and-twenty years of age, with a
softly feminine and purely English face, long, tremulous eyelashes, and
a perfect nose and chin. She was almost beautiful; but with an air of
sadness in her charming little features, which, when her alarm subsided,
was too apparent to fail to interest me.
"If you will not deem me intrusive," said I, lifting my hat again, and
drawing back respectfully one pace, "I shall be most happy to escort you
home."
"I thank you, sir."
"It is almost dark now, and your friends may be anxious about you."
"Friends?" she repeated, inquiringly, in a strange voice, while a cough
of a most consumptive sound seemed to rack her slender form.
"Or permit me to escort you to where you were going. It was in this
direction luckily, or I could only have taken my horse over the stile by
a flying leap."
"But, sir----" she began, and paused.
"Consider, that fellow may be within ear-shot, and he may return again."
"True, sir. I do thank you very much. There was a time when I was not
wont to be so unprotected; but I am so loth--"
"To incommode me; is it not so?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, do not say so. I am from the barracks at Maidstone, though in
mufti, as you see, and trust you will permit me to be your escort. My
time at present is completely at your disposal."
"I live about half-a-mile on this side of the village; and if you will
be so very kind----"
"I shall have much pleasure," I replied, with a respectful bow; and
leading my horse by the bridle, I walked onward by her side.
She conversed with me easily and gracefully on many subjects--of the
oddness of her being abroad at such an hour alone; but in the country
folks thought nothing of it. She had been visiting a sick fisherman's
wife, or child, or something, at Herne Bay, and been detained; the roads
were not unsafe thereabouts in general; but she must be careful for the
future.
Then we remarked, of course, the beauty of the evening, the romance of
the scenery along the coast, and its associations, by Herne Bay, the
Reculvers, and Birchington; and my fair companion seemed well read, for
she knew all about the old kings of Kent, and, pointing seaward, showed
me that, where now the ocean rolled, there stood in other times a goodly
Saxon town, with something about a king named Ethelbert, whose palace
was close by the Reculvers; and so, chatting away pleasantly in a tone
of voice that was very alluring, for there was a musical chord in it, we
proceeded along the highway, until she suddenly paused at the iron gate
of a pretty little rustic cottage that stood within a garden plot, back
some fifty paces or so from the highway.
"Here, sir," said she, "is the gate of my home; at least, that which is
now so; and, with my best thanks, I must bid you adieu."
The girl's voice, air, and manner were certainly charming, and there was
a plaintive sadness about her that was decidedly interesting; but my
mind was too full of a pure passion, an exalted love for Louisa Loftus,
to have much enthusiasm about pretty girls then, or to have any taste
for running after them, as in the days when I first donned my lancer
trappings. Thus, quite careless of cultivating her acquaintance, I was
about to withdraw with a polite bow, when she added--
"After the great service you have rendered, and so bravely too, I hope
you do not deem me uncourteous in not inviting you to rest for a few
minutes; but--but----"
"Papa might frown, and mamma have some fears of a light dragoon," said
I, laughing. "Is it not so?"
"My papa!" she replied in a voice that was extremely touching. "Sir, of
course you cannot know; but he is dead, and my dear mamma has lain by
his side these seven years."
"Pardon me," said I, "if by a heedless speech I have probed a hidden
wound--a sorrow so deep. But your friends, perhaps, might wish to
discover the sturdy beggar from whom I saved you, and if I can be of any
service, by sending a note to Maidstone barracks, addressed----"
At that moment the door of the cottage opened, and a comely old woman,
dressed in good matronly taste, appeared with a lighted candle in her
hand, and with an expression of alarm in her good-humoured face, as she
exclaimed--
"La, miss! how late you are! I was quite alarmed for fear you had
returned, as you often do, by the sea-shore, and met with an accident
among the rocks."
"No, my dear friend, I am here in safety, thanks to this kind gentleman;
but for whose fortunate intervention I might have had a very different
thing to say."
And in a few words she related all that had taken place, caressing my
horse the while kindly and gracefully with her pretty hands, and even
without fear, kissing his nose, for although sad-eyed, the girl seemed
naturally playful.
The woman she addressed had all the appearance of a matronly servant or
elderly nurse; she took the young lady in her arms kindly, kissed her,
and thanked me very earnestly for my service. She then proposed that I
should enter the cottage, and have at least a glass of cowslip or
elder-flower wine, or some such distillation; but the girl looked rather
alarmed. She did not second the invitation, and, finding that I was
becoming _de trop_, I put my foot in the stirrup, and mounted.
"Do not deem us lacking either in courtesy or gratitude, sir," said she,
presenting her hand, and looking up with her sad, earnest eyes, which
were now full of tears; "but you do not know the--the peculiarity of my
position here."
I bowed; but of course remained silent.
"She is, perhaps, a governess--some useful young person, some victim of
a stepmother," thought I.
"I perceived that you were an officer, though out of uniform,
and--and----"
"You don't take every officer for a sad rake, I hope?" said I, laughing.
"Nay, nay, sir; the scarlet coat is very dear to me!"
"Your father, perhaps, was in the army?"
"My poor father was a man of peace, and a man after God's own heart,
sir. No, no; you mistake me," she replied, with an air of annoyance and
wounded pride; "but you belong, I presume, to the cavalry?"
"Yes," said I, as her manner puzzled me more and more.
"The lancers?" she asked, impetuously.
"Yes, the lancers."
I could see, even in the twilight, that her colour deepened, while a
painful sigh escaped her.
"Do you know any one in my corps?"
"Yes--no; that is, I never saw it; but I did know a--a----"
Who, or what she knew, I was not destined to learn, for, just at that
moment, the postman passed with a lantern glimmering in his hand, a bag
slung over his back.
"A letter. You have one for me, have you not?" she asked, in a clear
and piercing voice, while holding forth her hands.
"No, miss, I am sorry to say," stammered the man, touching his cap, and
passing abruptly on; "better luck in the morning, I hope."
"No letter, Nurse Goldsworthy, no letter yet," she muttered. "How cruel,
how very cruel! or, nursie dear, is this but the way of the world--the
world that he has lived in? Oh, it is cold--cold and selfish!" and,
pressing her hands upon her breast, she tottered against the iron gate,
and then a violent fit of coughing ensued.
"My good woman," said I, "the chill evening air is unsuited to such a
cough as your young lady seems afflicted with."
"Yes, sir, yes, I know it," replied the nurse, while supporting the girl
with one hand, she closed and locked the iron gate with the other; and,
kissing her forehead the while, said, "Patience, my poor suffering
angel, thou wilt get a letter in the morning I tell thee."
"Pray tell me if I can assist you. I am Captain Norcliff, of the --th
Lancers; do please say if I can be of service?" I urged.
"Oh, no, sir, you cannot serve me in that which afflicts me most,"
replied the girl, weeping; "but a thousand thanks to you; and now, good
evening."
"Good evening," I replied, and rode away, feeling strangely puzzled and
interested in this girl, by her beauty, grace, and singular manner.
At the village inn, the signboard of which, I may mention by the way,
actually bears the head of King Ethelbert, whose spirit seems somehow to
hover still about his Anglo-Saxon _ham_ of the Reculvers, I drew up on
pretence of obtaining a light for my cigar, but in reality to make some
inquiry concerning the pretty enigma who dwelt in the cottage on the
Margate-road.
Just as I reined in, a man on horseback passed me at full speed, and
from his figure, seat, and dress, I could have sworn that he
was--Berkeley! And he was riding in the direction of Chillingham Park,
too.
From two to three Kentish yokels, in hobnailed shoes and canvas frocks,
I endeavoured, after the distribution of a few shillings for beer, to
extract some information, and it was yielded cunningly and grudgingly,
and after much leering, grinning, and scratching of uncombed heads.
One informed me that she was "thowt to be, somehow, the wife o' vun o'
them calavary chaps at Maidstone;" another "thowt as she was the vidder
of a sea hossifer;" and a third, who thrust his tongue into his fat