LITMIR.BIZ

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itself under a drapery of rags.

      As the three came together, he was the first to speak, more particularly addressing himself to Jerky. For the sister had a little side business to transact, plunging her hand into one of the panniers, and bringing forth a basket, out of which the neck of a bottle protruded.

      “Well, Jack! What’s the news down Monnerth way?” was the commencement of the colloquy.

      “Lots, Rob; ’nough if they were wrote out on paper to fill them panners, an’ load the donkey down.”

      Jinkum’s owner was of a humorous turn, and dealt in figures of speech, often odd and varied as his bills of lading.

      “Tell us some o’ ’em,” requested Rob, placing himself in an attitude to listen.

      “Well,” proceeded the cadger, “it be most all ’bout politicks there now, wi’ rumours o’ war, they say be a brewin’. The market war full o’ them rough ’uns from Raglan side, Lord Worster’s people, bullyin’ everybody an’ threetenin’ all as wudn’t cry out for the King.”

      “Ay;” here interposed the big sister, with a sneer, “an’ you cried it, Jack—shouted till I was afeerd you’d split yer windpipe. That ye did!”

      “And if I did,” rejoined Jack, excusing himself, “how war I to help it? If I hadn’t they’d a throttled me; may-be pulled off my wooden leg, and smashed my skull wi’t. An’ ye know that, Winny. A man who’d a said word there favour o’ the Parlyment wud a stud good chance o’ gettin’ tore limb fro’ limb. Tho’ I han’t two for ’em to tear sunderwise, I wasn’t the fool to go buttin my head ’gainst a wall when no good could come o’t. If I did cry ‘Long live the King!’ I thinked the contrary, as Rob knows I do.”

      “That do I, Jack, right well. A true free-born Forester, as myself, I know you ha’ no leanin’ like as them o’ Monnerth and Lydney; Royalists an’ Papists, who want to make slaves o’ us, both body and soul, an’ keep us toilin’ for them an’ their fine-dressed favourites—devil burn ’em!”

      Having thus delivered himself, the free-born Forester dropped conversation with Jerky, confining it to the sister. For which Jack gave them an opportunity, shrewdly guessing it was desired. Once more saluting Jinkum with a “yee-up!” he started the animal off again up the hill, himself stumping briskly after.

Chapter Twelve.

       Table of Contents

      A Combat in a Quarry.

      The man and woman left behind, as they stood vis-à-vis, presented a striking appearance. Such a pair in juxtaposition were a sight not often given to the eye. He some inches the taller—though well matched as regarded the distinction of the sexes; but both of towering stature, with air so commanding that one, who could have seen them there and then, would not have given a thought to the coarseness of their apparel, or, if so, instantly forgetting it. Looking at their faces, in their eyes as they met in mutual gaze, he would have noticed something of a nature to interest more than any quality or fashion of dress—the light of love. For they loved one another warmly, and, perhaps, as purely and tenderly, as if their hearts had been beating under robes of silk.

      No words of love passed between them now. If they intended speaking such, they held them in reserve till matters more pressing should be disposed of.

      Upon these the man entered at once, asking,—

      “Heerd you anythin’ ’bout me, Win?”

      “Yes, Rob.”

      “What?”

      “They have been wonderin’ how ye managed to get out o’t gaol, an’ blame Will Morgan for lendin’ ye a hand. Day afore yesterday a party came over from Lydney wi’ that young officer as be wi’ Sir John Winter—Trevor I think they call him.”

      “Yes; that’s the name. I know him well enough—too well. ’Twas he as took me in the High Meadows.”

      “Oh! it was. Well; he hev taked Will, too, an’ carried him away to Lydney, where Sir John ha’ now got a gaol o’ his own. There wor some trouble ’bout it; the Lord Herbert, who’s governor at Monnerth, claimin’ him as his prisoner. But the other sayed as yours wor a case o’ deer-stealin’ in the Forest, an’ Will had helped, ye ought both be taken before Sir John an’ tried by him, he bein’ head man o’ it. Then Lord Herbert gave in, an’ let them take him off. Will did help ye a bit, didn’t he?”

      “More’n a bit. But for him, liker than not, I’d now be in theer lock-up at Lydney. Well, if he be goed there he mayn’t ha’ so long to stay as they think for—won’t, if what I’ve heerd be true.”

      “What’s ye heerd, Rob?”

      “Some news as ha’ just come down from Lunnun. It’s sayed the King’s been chased out o’t, an’ the Parlyment be now havin’ it all theer own way. Supposin’ that’s the case, Sir John Winter won’t hae it all his own way much longer. We Foresters’ll deal wi’ him diff’rent from what we’ve been a doin’. An’ ’bout that I ha’ got word o’ somethin’ else.”

      “What somethin’?”

      “A man, they say’s comin’ down here—from Lunnun too. One o’ the right sort—friend o’ the people. Besides, a soldier as ha’ seen foreign service, an’ is reckoned ’mong the best and kindest of men.”

      “I think I know who ye mean, Rob. Ain’t it Sir Richard Walwyn?”

      “That’s the man.”

      “He wor at Hollymead fore he went away to the wars. I’ve seed him many’s the time. He used to often ride past our place, an’ always stopped to ha’ a word an’ a joke wi’ Jack. That makes me remember him; an’ if I beant mistook somebody else ha’ remembrance o’ him in a different way, an’ ain’t like ever to forget him.”

      “Who?”

      “One o’ the young ladies o’ Hollymead—the older ’un, Miss Sabrina. I ha’ heerd as much from the house sarvints theer.”

      Just the shadow of a cloud had shown itself on Rob’s brow as Win commenced giving her reminiscences of the knight who had been visitor at Hollymead and used to crack jokes with Jerky. It passed off, however, ere her relation came to an end.

      “Well, dear Win,” he said, speaking more tenderly from consciousness of having harboured an unjust suspicion; “they say Sir Richard be comin’ down to raise soldiers for the Parlyment. If that be so, one o’ the first to join him’ll be Rob Wilde; an’ maybe the biggest, if not best, in the fightin’ line.”

      “You’ll be the best, Rob; I know you will. Who could equal you?”

      At which she threw open her arms, then closed them around his neck, covering him with kisses.

      In all probability, many soft words and much tender concourse would have succeeded this outburst of admiration. But the opportunity was not allowed them. Just then they heard a clattering of hoofs, horsemen coming down the road from Ruardean, at a gallop.

      Rob, setting his ears to listen, could tell there were two of them, but nothing more—nothing to admonish him whether they were friends or enemies. But with the consciousness of having stolen deer and broken jail, twenty to one on their being the latter, reflected he. In any case prudence counselled him hiding himself, and letting the horsemen pass on.

      His first impulse was to spring back up the bank, leaving the woman in the road. They could have nothing against her, whoever they were. But they were near now, still riding rapidly, and before he could scramble to the summit of the slope would be sure to see him. Just then, a hiding-place handier, and more easily accessible,

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