Читать книгу Over the Hills - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 10
ОглавлениеTELLETH OF NAKED STEEL
A vivid flash of scarlet, the glint of gold lace, and down I cowered amid the bracken at the edge of a broad glade, beyond which the road made a sharp bend for Firle village; so there lay I upon my face wellnigh aswoon with the sudden shock, while they (for it seemed there were two of them) drew slowly nearer my hiding place—nearer, until I could hear the jingle of their spurs—nearer yet, until I could catch the air one of them hummed, and then they stopped and my poor heart so thumping I trembled lest they hear it. Thus stood they for some moments, as if listening, for both were now silent, and then at last one of them spoke in a singularly pleasing voice I was destined never to forget, so rich was it, so soft yet sweetly clear; and this voice, being so beautiful, made the words it uttered only the more horrible:
"His head should look uncommonly well adorning Temple Bar. His right arm and leg should go, I think, to Carlisle, his left to Newcastle, his trunk to Perth or Inverness, but his head must to London for—family reasons."
"Family reasons," repeated another voice very languid and sleepy. "Gad's life, sir, what should they be?"
"His father's London house chances within an easy walk of Temple Bar, my dear Captain."
"His father, sir? You mean?"
"'Twould be an easy pilgrimage for the doating sire, 'twould not fatigue the old gentleman——"
"By heavens, sir, 'tis vile suggestion!" quoth the Captain, his voice sleepy no longer, "Tis devilish! Also, Sir Hector, before we may so exhibit his poor remains to a grieving father, we have first to capture him, I would remind you of this, sir."
"Capture him, ay, true, my dear Dallas, and very joyous duty 'twill be, to you as a zealous soldier of his thrice blessed Majesty King George whom God defend, and to me as—hum!"
"As what, may I ask?"
"As one equally zealous, sir."
"O faith, Sir Hector Keith MacFarlane's loyal zeal is notorious!"
"Sir, you overwhelm me!" answered the soft voice gently and yet a little mocking, I thought; and then they walked on but only to halt again well within earshot. And now, venturing to lift my head, I saw one for a tall gentleman in the dreaded gold and scarlet of a King's officer, who stood arms folded, booted legs apart, frowning a little, but it was his companion that drew and held my gaze.
A smallish, slender gentleman, who lolled against a tree, holding a snuff-box in fingers white as his long lace ruffles; a graceful gentleman of uncertain age, his full-skirted riding-coat of green velvet brave with rich embroidery, his long, brown riding-boots adorned with gilt spurs; all this finery I was instant to heed, but beholding his face I looked no other where.
A thin, dark face half hid in the flowing curls of his great periwig, a face in whose haggard, pale oval two restless, dark eyes glittered beneath a languor of drooping lids, a high, thin nose, and a mouth faint-smiling and disdainful above pointed chin; a face whose cold and mocking serenity I feared and hated at my first glance.
"You would seem strangely anxious for this particular gentleman's capture, sir!" said the Captain, chin aloft, "I might say even passionately anxious."
"Admitted, Captain, admitted full and freely."
"You have a—personal motive, perhaps, Sir Hector?"
"This, my dear Dallas, is as may be," he answered, and, as he spoke, there rushed upon me a strange sense of familiarity, and therewith something deadly in his languid pose, his look, his smile—some nameless evil in the man appalled me, and made him ever the more hateful. And now, too, I recognised him for that same man whose name was MacFarlane or Keith, Weaver or Weir of whom my fugitive young gentleman had spoken.
"Howbeit, Captain," said he, "the King's enemies are mine."
"His Majesty should rejoice to know it, sir!" retorted the Captain scornfully, whereupon the other, always smiling, saluted him with profound obeisance.
"Referring to this—ah—highly elusive fugitive of ours, he was a one-time friend of yours, I understand, my dear Dallas?"
The Captain stood up very straight, and squared his shoulders.
"In happier days, sir," he answered, very red in the face, "we were at school together."
"So—indeed, Captain—he was your friend? And now, alas, he is an enemy of your king, to be hunted down or killed by his Majesty's loyal subjects! Touching, sir, and very sad, considering his youth and his aged father. None the less, as a faithful subject of King George, whom God bless, I would humbly suggest your men beating the adjacent woods; 'tis beyond doubt our rebel hath gone to earth hereabouts."
"Sir," answered the soldier stiffly, "I lament to disoblige so loyal a subject as yourself, but 'tis out o' the question."
"Indeed, my very dear Dallas?"
"Indeed, sir! Seeing I have but scant twenty men, and that they have beaten the coverts beyond Firle since dawn and are hard at it still, I submit 'tis out o' the question."
"Hum!" says Sir Hector, stroking his chin, "Major West reports he had sight of him 'twixt here and East Bourne early this morning and turned him back in this direction—now, if you would spare me a few of your men——"
"Impossible, sir!"
"Aha!" sighed Sir Hector tapping his box delicately and extracting a pinch of snuff, "friendship, it seems, may have its—saving virtues."
"Sir!" exclaimed the Captain in choking voice, "I object to the insinuation and demand you retract it or——"
"Or?" questioned the other, gently. For answer the Captain flashed out his sword:
"This, sir!" said he, looking very fierce.
Sir Hector glanced at the Captain's suffused face, glanced at his sword and motioned it aside with languid hand.
"Put up, sir!" said he. "Pray put up! Had I the misfortune to kill you 'twould grieve me sensibly to do such disservice to the King, God bless him!"
"I cast the insinuation in your teeth, sir!" cried the Captain. "And what now?"
Sir Hector inhaled his pinch of snuff with apparent enjoyment.
"Talking of friendship, sir——" he began.
"Well?"
Sir Hector dusted his fingers and fobbed his box.
"Had I the happy capacity for winning friends, my dear Dallas, which, alas, seems denied me, I should count myself extreme fortunate in such friendship as—yours."
"MacFarlane," says the Captain in a fume, "you put a slur upon my honour as a soldier which, by Heaven, you must and shall retract—this instant!"
"But, my dear Dallas, I never retract——"
"Then so be it, sir. Draw—draw, I say!"
"Nay, nay!" laughed Sir Hector, shaking his head, "what folly! Yon mountain's but a molehill. And, sir, I draw but upon the King's enemies—or my own."
"What—what?" stuttered the Captain, "must I strike you?"
"Indeed, I think you must, sir."
Hereupon the Captain rapped him lightly upon the crown; next moment Sir Hector's sword was out and they were at it, thrusting and parrying, stepping lightly to and fro; now though the Captain was taller and longer in the arm, I sweated to see his antagonist so much quicker and (as it seemed even to my inexperienced eye) infinitely the more dangerous. The narrow blades glittered in the sun as they circled and darted viciously, and then all at once was a whirl of rasping steel, a quick stamp of feet and the Captain (to my horror) stood empty handed, his sword tucked securely beneath Sir Hector's arm, and all in less time than I write it.
For a moment they eyed each other, the Captain a little breathless and very red in the face.
"A—a devil's trick!" he panted.
"Though useful!" smiled Sir Hector.
"Well,—damn you—strike!"
"Tush, sir!" said Sir Hector, lowering his point, "I strike only to kill, and your death could advantage me no whit. So pray accept your sword and with it all the good wishes in the world, my dear Dallas."
The Captain hesitated, frowning and biting his lip, but he took his weapon at last and rammed it back into the scabbard.
"What now, sir?" he enquired.
"With your leave I'll inflict myself upon you as far as the inn—my horse is there."
"As you will, sir," answered the other gloomily, and they moved off together side by side, the soldier very stiff in the back, his companion seemingly more languid than ever, and I heard him once more humming to himself in his strangely pleasant voice.
