Part 9

An angry growl ran through the room, and things looked ugly; but at that moment a man I knew leaned over Ferguson and whispered quickly in his ear. The chaplain nodded eagerly; then, turning to the Duke, said:

"By your leave, my lord, I understand the matter fully now. This poor young fellow" (here he waved his pen at me, but did not dare to look) "lost his father suddenly this morning, and doubtless such a shock hath----" he tapped his head and added: "Yes, 'tis plain enough."

"Ah! if that be true----" began the Duke in no unkindly voice.

"'Tis true in part, my lord," I broke in scornfully, "as far as it regards my loss, that is. The other is rank folly. I vow my head is quite as sound and clear as this your godly chaplain's. For the rest, I would repeat my warning. Scripture hath fluttered somewhat freely here to-night, therefore, I pray you, let me add my quota to it, namely: 'Beware of those who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves'. Yea, have a care, my lord. I wish you well."

With that I bowed, took one last look at Ferguson, then, passing through the crowd, went forth as I had come, and left them to their own devices.

Being in no mood for conversation, I turned towards the kitchen regions, hoping thus to slip out unobserved, except by servants, with whom there was no need to traffic. Kind fortune favoured me in this respect, for, save a hot, perspiring scullion, I met no one, and so I gained my quiet, lonely street again without the utterance of a word.

Oh, how fresh and sweet the cool air was after that crowded, reeking room! I drank it in like nectar, and felt mightily refreshed. What next? Whither should I go? The thought of home (two days before the dearest place on earth for me) was now abhorrent to my soul. The hum of whispering, mournful voices; the reddened eyes that followed me about with pitying looks--nay, by my life I would not, could not face them. To be alone, to think in solitude, was what I needed. Just then the murmur of the sea broke in upon my ears. Ah! what better place than that? I had communed with it, told it many a secret in the past, and now it seemed like some old friend who would not fail me in the hour of need.

Striking across some fields, in order to avoid the town, I made a wide sweep for the eastern shore. To do this I must needs go through the churchyard, and there I chanced upon the sexton finishing a grave--whose I knew full well. I did not stop, but, as I passed, the old man raised a sweating face to glance at me; then, seeing who it was, he touched a dripping forelock, shook his head, and, mumbling sadly, bent o'er his task again; while I--with what black thoughts you may imagine--descended by a narrow cliff-path to the beach, and set off swiftly towards Charmouth.

Dusk was now falling fast, and as I strode along, scarce knowing whither, the cool breeze fanned my burning cheeks refreshingly, the ceaseless thunder of a full-tide sea fell like some soothing music on my ears, until at length a strange deep calm came stealing over me. Rousing myself, I took a backward glance (I know not why), and saw two figures--blurred and indistinct by such a failing light--following in the distance far behind. "Two Charmouth fishers going home," thought I. "Wise men, who will not risk their necks e'en for the pretty Duke of Monmouth." With that I clean dismissed them from my mind, and so pressed on again.

In this aloof, abstracted state I must have gone two miles or more, when, coming to a low, inviting rock, I sat down thereon and let my thoughts go wandering where they pleased. A silver moon tipped Gold Cap; the waves broke loudly close beneath my feet, and cast their welcome spray right over me. I seemed a part of nature, nothing else. The blackened past--Ammon, Ferguson, my father's death, and even that which had just happened in the Great Room at the "George"--all these were like so many ugly dreams from which I should awake to find my old sweet life the only real thing.

How long I sat there brooding thus I know not; but suddenly my reverie was broken by a sound like that of footsteps close enough to be just hearable above the turmoil of the waves. "Ah! they of Charmouth," thought I; and with that was about to turn and look, when, like a flash, two men rushed in upon me from behind.

*CHAPTER XIV*

*"Zion!"*

Even great strength (as mine then was) when taken unawares avails but little; and so, ere ever I could move--much less draw a weapon--I was borne down, crashing on the shingle; and there I lay, stretched out upon my back, with two great lusty knaves above me. One of them had a knee upon my chest and pinned my arms down, while the other threw his weight upon my legs; and thus, although I wrenched and strained (not caring to be mastered like a sheep), and made the villains hiss forth oaths, my struggles gained me naught beyond a woeful loss of breath. Indeed, such posture, with that crushing knee upon my breast, was hopeless, as anyone is free to prove who cares to try it. Besides, the horrors of the night before, coupled with loss of rest, had left their mark upon me; therefore, 'tis little to my shame to state that I was vanquished.

Panting, I lay and stared into the face that almost touched my own. The moonlight showed it to me as a coarse one, blotched and hairy; while there was that about the eyes which spoke of desperate deeds, and life held cheap as dust. In truth, the man looked a ruffian of the lowest kind, who would have bartered whatsoever soul he had for money. I doubted not whose tools both he and his companion were.

"Well, and what now?" I asked, as well as want of breath would let me.

Grinning, he pressed still harder on my chest, and answered:

"Well said! What now?"

"Off with that knee of yours," I gasped, "unless you wish to kill me."

"Well, now, it might e'en go as far as that. Can't say. Hi! Dick," he called across his shoulder to the other, "take you his sword and pistols."

Forthwith my legs were loosed, and, thus freed, I would certainly have broke out struggling afresh, had not the galling knee made closer friendship with my heart until it wellnigh stopped its beating.

"Brute!" I gasped again, "you're killing me."

"Nay, not yet, methinks," quoth he, biting his lip and gloating o'er my agony. "Hold you his left hand, and gi' me a pistol, Dick," he added, with another cruel jab that fairly made me groan.

The other, who had withdrawn my weapons, hasted to obey, and next moment I was staring up the barrel of a pistol which threatened me between the eyes.

"Make one sound," hissed my tormentor savagely, "and there's a bullet through your head in no time."

His face endorsed the statement, and certainly I was not going to put it to the proof. At least his knee had left my chest, and for so much I was more than thankful. I took a long, deep breath, then gazed at each of them intently, as they knelt beside me, holding down my hands and threatening me with pistols--and those, alas! my own. Both were as ill-favoured, wicked-looking rascals as one could hope to see, armed with swords and knives, hired desperadoes fit for anything. In truth, things had an ugly look enough, but I was minded to know something of my future fate if it were possible.

"Well, and what next?" I asked.

"You come with us," said he who had been kneeling on me.

"Ah! and where to?"

"Where bidden and where led."

"Who sent you on this business?"

"That's our concern. Ask no more questions."

I had no wish to do so; and, indeed, I knew the answer to my last one just as well as they did. Yes, their master's name was graven on their evil faces. The tools of Ferguson were not to be mistaken.

"Wilt let me rise?" I asked.

Their answer was to free my arms and draw back a little, though still covering me with both pistols. So I sat up and stared at them afresh, the while I strove to form swift plans for their destruction. But this seemed hopeless beyond measure, for my sword lay well behind them; I had no weapon save my fists, and what were they against two pistol bullets, which the slightest threatening movement would most assuredly bring crashing through my skull? Nor would a shout for help be any less disastrous, even supposing help were to be had in such a lonely place at such a time. But I had little chance to think upon such profitless affairs, for, bringing the pistol nearer to my face, the leader said:

"Put your hands close together, that we may bind them. The rope, Dick!"

There being nothing else for it, I instantly obeyed, and held them out; while the man he called Dick brought forth a knot of cord and hasted to unwind it. Thus it seemed that, notwithstanding all my strength, I should soon be bound and helpless--entirely at the mercy of these two conspiring villains. But in that pressing moment some words of Coram's flashed into my brain.

"Stay!" I said, "there's surely some mistake."

He with the rope grinned mockingly, while his companion jerked the pistol threateningly and growled:

"What's that? What mean you?"

"Why, this," I answered, lowering my hands apart. "'Twere well to make quite sure of things before you act."

"What riddle's that?" asked he.

"No riddle," I replied. "A warning. Again I say, there's some mistake about this matter."

"Pish!" quoth he, "I'll take my chance of that. There's no mistake, I fancy, save on your side. Keep a still tongue, and hold your hands out. Dick, do you bind him instantly, We've lost good time enough already."

"All right!" I put in, as the other bent to do his work; "but don't blame me when it turns out that you have bound the wrong man after all."

Both started somewhat.

"Wrong man!" mocked he who held the pistol. "Not much, I fancy. A spy, a dangerous malcontent, an enemy to Monmouth's cause! What say you?"

"Why, this," said I, "that I am neither, therefore have a care. Listen," I went on slowly; "do enemies of Monmouth know his secret passwords?--Zion!"

The cord which had gone once around my wrists dropped off; the pistol jerked aside. With my left hand I struck the would-be binder in the chest and sent him flying backwards; while with my right I seized the barrel of the pistol. It went off with a deafening bang, and the bullet, missing my head by scarce an inch, went singing to the cliffs behind. Leaping up I wrenched the smoking weapon from its holder's grasp and brought the butt-end down with all my might upon his shoulder.

With a loud, fierce cry he staggered back, thus giving me the chance I needed. Snatching up the other pistol and my sword, which lay close by the water, I took a hurried aim at him; but the spray had got into the pan, and so when I pulled the trigger nothing came of it except a flash of flint and steel. Casting the faithless thing away, I turned a keen look on my foes. Their amaze was great, nor do I wonder at it, for indeed the change had been both sudden and bewildering. Thus for a moment we stood staring at each other, then out flew their swords.

Now, two to one is no great odds provided that the one cannot be taken in the rear; but as I then stood such a thing was more than possible. Therefore I made a sudden rush between the half-dazed fellows, and reaching the cliffs, which rose some dozen yards behind, stood with my back thereto and faced them.

"Come on!" I shouted, jeeringly. "The sooner this is settled now the better!"

At first they did not move, but stood there staring in the moonlight, dumbstricken as it seemed by such a turning of the tables. Then they came on slowly, cautiously, their heads thrust forward and their swords held back.

I waited for them eagerly, with blade-point lowered, impatient of their slowness and the space that lay betwixt us. Here was the very thing I longed for, sure enough--a clean, straight sword-fight--no one to disturb us, a kindly moon by way of light, and risk enough to make the matter pleasant. 'Twas as near as I could get to Robert Ferguson just then; besides, I owed these his varlets something, and was minded to repay the debt with usury.

On they came, creeping step by step, as though expecting I might rush upon them, until they were within three yards of me, and there they stopped. Then he whose knee I had such painful knowledge of made shift to speak.

"Hearken!" said he. "Wilt yield, or must we kill thee?"

"That is a question easy of the answering," said I. "Kill me if you can; but as for yielding--go to, now, act like men, not craven cowards. Fight, I say!"

I took a threatening step towards them, and they fell back hurriedly.

"Not so," quoth he, and verily methought I saw him quake with fear. "You have outwitted us, I own it freely. That being so it seems to me 'twere fair to strike a bargain. Thus, we will leave you here in peace and go our way."

"A very pretty plan," I answered mockingly; "but one which scarce commends itself to my desire. Listen! you go not from this place alive if I can help it."

That settled it. They drew together whispering for a moment, then came upon me with a desperate rush.

*CHAPTER XV*

*Tells How I Fleshed My Sword*

A moment later and the clash of steel rose merrily above the thunder of the waves; and with each movement of my sword the eager blood rushed faster through my veins and gave new zest to life. In short, I revelled in the business, and thought no more of lurking death than you do when you breathe. I had learned swordsmanship beneath my father's trained and watchful eye; the blade I wielded was his gift to me; my foes were Ferguson's own hirelings. What more could any man require to give him skill and courage? I needed nothing else at any rate; and so, with tight-set lips and watchful eye, I fought beneath the moon.

As for my adversaries, notwithstanding that they had been made to fight against their will, and thus lacked spirit, they yet soon proved themselves to be no paltry swordsmen; indeed, they showed such knowledge of the game that I was more than once hard put to it to save myself from thrust or cut. But, verily, my length of reach exceeded theirs by many inches--moreover, zeal and hatred count for much--and so it was not long before I sent one of them (he who had tried to bind me) reeling with a sword-thrust in the heart. His death-cry echoed loud above us in the cliffs, then down he crashed, a harmless heap, upon the shingle.

At that the other leapt back panting, and stared at me with fearful, terror-stricken eyes.

"Enough!" gasped he. "I yield!"

"Down with your sword, then," I answered sternly.

He cast his weapon to the ground, and, turning, would have fled; but in a moment I had darted after him and seized him by the neck.

"Hold! not so fast!" I said, shaking him till his teeth clicked. "To save your miserable life is one thing, to spread tidings is another."

"I swear to spread no tidings," came his chattering answer.

"Well said," quoth I; "you will not get the chance." Here my eye fell on the cord which had fallen from his hand when I had knocked him over. I led him to it. "See," I said, "you would have bound me with that rope; now let me do so much for you. On your back, I pray you."

Down he went, and lay thus while I tied him hand and foot.

"Good!" said I, regarding him intently when my task was finished. "That is another way we have with those who serve one Robert Ferguson. Be thankful that you do not lie as still as your companion yonder."

"The sea!" he gasped. "I pray you drag me nearer to the cliffs lest I be drowned."

"Nay, have no fear," said I, "'tis now high water; a little spray will serve to cool your blood. So now, good morrow to you, friend, and when you see your master tell him that his plans have failed for once."

With that I picked my pistols up and turned to leave him; but as I looked along the shore towards Lyme, I saw, to my dismay, three men come running in the moonlight; and by the way the foremost of them waved a hand to those behind I knew that they had seen me also.

What now? I wondered. Well, friends or foes, I judged it best to meet them ere they came upon my handiwork, and so I strode straight on towards them. Soon I made out that they were armed, for when some twenty yards away they stopped, drew swords, and thus stood waiting for me.

Moving boldly on as though they were not there, I had come within a dozen paces, when one of them stepped forward, right across my path.

"Halt!" cried he. "Who art thou?"

"Zion!" said I, stopping.

"Ah! and thy business?"

"Such as brooks no delay," I answered firmly, moving on again.

"Stay!" said he, while those behind pressed forward in a threatening fashion. "We heard pistol shots a little while ago; what was it?"

"Some fellows brawling on the shore up yonder," I replied; "but, look you, as I said before, my business brooks not dalliance. Go and make search yourselves."

With that I made to leave them, and by the look of things they were for letting me depart in peace; but at that very moment a ringing cry broke out behind us. I started round, and saw a sight which seemed to spell disaster. The wretch whom I had left for helpless on the shore had managed to break free, and now came running on with waving sword.

"Stop him! Hold him fast! Make sure of him!" he shouted.

*CHAPTER XVI*

*Concerning one Dan Foe--A Friend in Need*

My state was now more desperate than ever, for, in the twinkling of an eye, three swords were pointed at me, to which a fourth would soon be added. Drawing my own I went back slowly to the cliffs, they following.

This time the odds were overwhelming, and there seemed little chance enough of winning through; but still I was resolved to fight it out until I either did so or was killed. Take me alive they should not--that I swore.

At first I was for making one big dash for it; cutting my way right through the knaves, that is, and so escaping: but a moment's thought convinced me that 'twere madness to attempt it, for who could safely hope to turn aside three ready swords at once? One would be sure to find a place inside my body. No, there was nothing for it save to wait and play the ugly game out to a finish--whether life or death. And even as I told myself this was so, up came number four.

What with the struggle he had had to free himself, and then the run, his breath was wellnigh sped, and so he stood there, pumping out his very heart, the while he pointed at me with his sword.

"Well, and what now?" enquired the leader sternly. "Why gape you thus? Know you this fellow?"

"Know him!" gasped the bond-breaker. "Know him! Aye, verily!"

"Who is he, then?"

"One--Michael--Fane ... Spy ... malcontent ... murderer! I, Dick Harland, tell you so."

"Ah! whom hath he murdered?"

"My goodly comrade Adam Blunt. He lies up yonder stricken through the heart by this same fellow's sword."

"Is this thing true?" enquired the leader, turning to me.

"'Tis true enough that I have killed the rascal," I replied; "but 'twas a fair straight fight--not murder."

"This hath an ugly look," quoth he, stroking his beard the while he frowned upon me. "Why killed you him?"

"'Twas either that, or being killed myself," I answered; "and most of us choose life in place of death."

He paused a moment with a puzzled look, then turned to Harland, saying:

"You would have killed this man, then, eh?"

"Nay, not so. We had him down and were about to bind him, when he escaped us by a trick. Then we called on him to yield, but he withstood us."

"And why would ye have bound him?"

"Because our orders were to take him, dead or living."

"Ah! whose orders?"

"Our godly chaplain's."

"What! Dr. Ferguson's?'"

"The same. He bade us take this fellow at all costs. Two pounds was the reward for him if dead, and five if----"

He stopped and glanced around him foolishly. In his excitement he had let out a secret which he had not meant to. I started at his words: so did the leader.

"Two pounds if dead," he murmured to himself, "and five if living. Verily, the fellow hath some value, then. But, come," he added quickly, "you say that he escaped you by a trick. What trick was that?"

"Why, as we held him safely on the ground he gave the password of the night, and when, in our amazement, we drew back, he freed himself and laid about him handsomely."

"Ah, a dangerous fellow, by my life," rejoined the other, in whom, no doubt, the thought of promised gold was working. "He also gave it unto us just now. How came you by that word, young man?"

"I got it from a friend," I answered.

"Liar! liar!" broke in Harland fiercely. "He is a spy--a malcontent! He hath no friends among us."

"Stop!" said the leader, holding up a hand. "Such ranting will not help us. Young man," he added, frowning on me, "'tis clear that you are up to no good purpose; and now I come to think of it, you did deceive me when I spoke about the pistol shots we heard. Yea, verily, methinks the statement of our comrade here is true. But say, now, are you for us or against us?"

"Neither."

"Ah, there you stand condemned. A man who fights and kills as you have done this night, and then claims that he takes no side, is little to my liking. I trust him not. Therefore, lay down your sword and pistols and come with us peaceably. So shall your words be proven, whether they be true or false. Down with your arms, I say!"

I did not move, but gripped my sword a little tighter, and stood ready for the worst.

"You will not yield, then?" he went on, after watching me intently for a moment.

"Try me and see," I answered curtly.

"Which means a threat of further violence," quoth he.

"Nay, a simple invitation," I replied.

"Ah, so you mock me, eh?"

He took a threatening step towards me.

"Have a care! I pray you have a care!" sang Harland from behind. "That sword of his is over-ready, as my poor comrade Adam Blunt proved to his cost."

"Perchance your comrade lacked my skill," returned the leader sneeringly. "Again I ask, young man, wilt yield?"

"And again I answer--try me and prove the matter," I replied.

"I pray you let us fall upon him in a heap," cried Harland. "His pistols count for naught, for one of them hath been discharged and the other hath been soaked with water. Let us fall to, I say, and smite him hip and thigh."

"What now!" rejoined the other, turning on him angrily. "Dost take me for a craven coward? Do I, who fought in Cromwell's Ironsides, and who with this same blade have slain a good score of lusty fellows; do I, I say, need help from such as you against this stripling? Nay, verily, I trow not. I give you one more chance, young man," he added turning to me. "Wilt yield?"

"Not while I have a sword and life," I answered firmly.

"Your blood be on your head, then, not on mine," said he. "Friends, bear witness that I would have spared this fellow; also mark well my strokes, from which ye may learn something. Now, back with you and give us room."

They fell back hurriedly, and next moment we were at it tooth and nail.

That was a fight indeed, and one which even now, with over forty years between, still sets my blood a-tingling when I think of it.

This time my foe was no half-hearted fellow, but a battle-seasoned soldier, who by his own account--and as I doubted not--had fought in Cromwell's Ironsides, and smitten many a skilful swordsman to the death. As I write these words I see again the stern, set face, the gleaming eyes that flashed beneath his head-piece, the moonlight glimmering on his breastplate, the sword that seemed to be alive--so swift and ready were its movements. His height was little less than mine, and though I judged his years to be well over fifty, his quickness, both of hand and foot, was wonderful to see.