The Black Box 11

The Black Box 11

The fellow glowered upon me for a space, looking me up and down with

angry eyes.

 

"Thy tongue wags over free for one so young," snarled he at last. "Nay,

Ferguson the godly. See how his face lights up with blazing zeal!"

 

But that was enough for me. Gaining the outskirts of the crowd I

hurried to the "George" to get my horse, pursued by such a hornet’s nest

of wild, bewildering thoughts as fairly made my head sing.

 

On coming near the jail I heard a great commotion going forward, and

there, as I live, was Simon Jackson, the Nonconformist blacksmith,

bare-armed and sledge in hand, raining fierce blows upon the stout,

nail-studded door. He had already burst the town-hall open to make a

storage place for Monmouth’s baggage, and was now bent on setting free

his brother Nonconformists, who, as I have said, had lately been

imprisoned by the Mayor.

 

Even as I looked the door flew open with a crash, and out stepped half a

score of white-faced, startled men, among them old Sampson Larke, the

grey-haired Anabaptist minister.

 

"There," methought as I turned away, "falls the pride and power of

Master Gregory Alford!"

 

I found the inn yard humming with excitement. Serving men and maids ran

to and fro distracted; for the news had already reached outlying

villages, and men poured in from every quarter, some armed and eager,

others idly curious, but all of them hot and thirsty, and calling loudly

to be served with ale: while on a top step stood the landlord, surveying

the giddy sight like one bedazed. The name of Monmouth was on every

lip, and each new-comer added to the din.

 

Shouldering my way through the buzzing, drinking throng I made for my

horse. The stable in which I had left her lay round a dark, far corner

of the yard, and on turning this I noticed that the door was closed and

that a flickering light showed underneath it. This surprised me not a

little, and hurrying up I tried the door. To my great astonishment I

found it fastened on the inner side. I called, but no one answered save

my mare, who gave a joyous whinny. Listening for a moment I made out

voices talking in a whisper, and thus feeling certain that some mischief

was afoot I put my shoulder to the door (an ancient, rickety affair) and

burst it open. Then indeed I started back, as well I might, for there

was my horse already saddled, while beside her stood two burly,

steel-capped fellows, armed with sword and pistol. One of them held a

lantern, the other Kitty’s bridle, and both regarded me with guilty,

startled faces, like the thieving dogs they were.

 

Just then the mare turned round her pretty head to look at me, and

neighed again.

 

"Is this thy mare?" asked he who held the bridle.

 

"Well--yes," I answered; "at least, that is, I thought it was; but now

it seems as though I must have been mistaken."

 

"Thou hast a mocking tongue, young man," whined he who held the lantern.

 

"Yet that were surely better than a thieving hand," quoth I.

 

"What mean you?" he asked, taking a step towards me.

 

"Exactly what I say," I answered slowly. "In other words, you are a

pair of sneaking thieves."

 

At that each laid a hand upon his sword and eyed me fiercely, while he

with the light came forward in a threatening fashion.

 

"We are no thieves," he hissed, showing his yellow teeth. "We claim thy

mare for the cause."

 

"And, prithee, what cause is that?" I asked.

 

"The cause of liberty and truth," whined he.

 

"The cause of Monmouth, eh?"

 

He nodded frowningly.

 

"Then," said I, "if liberty and truth go hand in hand with thieving, may

God help the Duke! Let go that bridle," I added, striding up to the

fellow who had laid a hand on it again.

 

He hesitated for a moment, glaring upon me with a pair of angry,

bloodshot eyes; but, though only eighteen years, I topped him by a good

three inches, and doubtless my face told tales besides. Growling

something anent "godless upstarts" he drew back sulkily and joined his

comrade by the door which he had closed. And there they stood muttering

together and casting ugly glances at me.

 

Turning Kitty round, I took her bridle on my arm and moved towards them.

 

"Open that door," I said, "and let me pass."

 

But they were two to one, and odds give courage even unto cowards.

Whipping out their swords they set themselves against the door.

 

"You leave that horse or go not," said one.

 

"Aye, verily," quoth the other.

 

Stopping, I also drew my sword and said:

 

"Ah! say you so? Listen; do you know that I have but to call, and half

a score good friends will come to teach you honesty? Again, I say, open

that door and let me pass."

 

"Ah!" jeered the fellow who had closed it. "You come not over us with

that, young man. Know you that we also have some friends without; not

half a score, but three score--well-armed withal, and zealous in the

cause to boot."

 

There was ugly truth in that. I thought swiftly for a moment. Yes,

’twas my only chance!

 

"Fools!" I cried. "You do not know what business I am bent on!"

 

"Nay, how should we know it?" growled the bridle man. "What is it?"

 

"Why, such as, if you knew it," I replied, "methinks would make you open

that door with right goodwill."

 

"Prithee then, tell us what such mighty business is," sneered the other.

"Whom doth it concern?"

 

"One Robert Ferguson," I answered slowly.

 

At that the fellows started as though my words had been a pistol barrel.

 

"Ferguson!" quoth one of them uneasily. "Our godly chaplain!"

 

I nodded, though more than doubtful of the godliness; and he added:

 

"Why, then, didst not tell us this before, friend?"

 

"What now!" I shouted with a show of anger as I sheathed my sword. "Am

I, then, to cry my business out to every brace of thieves I meet?"

 

"You speak with heat, not knowing," whined the lantern-bearer. "Verily,

we are no thieves, but honest fighters for the cause, seeking horses,

which are sorely lacking. And if we had known the nature of thy

business, we----"

 

"Fool!" I broke in fiercely. "Cease thy prating, and open that door at

once, or methinks ’twill be the worse for you. One word of this delay

to Dr. Ferguson, and----"

 

Back flew the door, and, as I moved slowly forward, the opener of it

laid a trembling hand upon my arm, saying:

 

"Pray you, sir, get not two honest fellows into trouble. ’Twas done in

ignorance."

 

"I will consider that," I answered sternly, striding beside my mare into

the yard with great relief. Truly, one Ferguson had served my purpose

handsomely!

 

Turning to the left, in order to avoid the crowded yard, I passed down a

well-known entry, and so came out into a dark and now quite deserted

street.

 

"That was a narrow squeak, old girl," I whispered, stroking Kitty’s

silken neck, and, as though she understood, the pretty creature whinnied

gently. Then I mounted, and away we fled for home.

 

In view of what had happened at the stable, I judged it best to keep as

far as possible to by-ways; and so, instead of going through the town

(the nearest road), I struck into a narrow, high-banked lane with

sheltering trees on either side.

 

’Twas now dusk. Far off I heard the tumult of the town, rising and

falling in a ceaseless hum; but here all seemed silent and deserted.

Yet, even so, it was not long before I proved that Monmouth’s men were

guarding even such unlikely avenues; for just as Kitty, with a hill

before her, dropped into an easy trot, I suddenly made out a group of

fellows gathered near the top, beneath the shadow of a tree.

 

This was plaguy awkward, but yet more so when, as I drew nearer, they

spread themselves across the road, and I made out they were armed with

muskets. Still, there was nothing for it save to put a bold face on the

matter; so, bringing Kitty to a walk, I went forward whistling

carelessly, and had come within fifty yards of them, when one, who

seemed to be a leader, stepped out, and holding up his hand, cried:

 

"Stop! Thy name and business, friend!"

 

At that I pulled up the mare, and shouted back:

 

"What’s that you say?"

 

Fingering his musket-lock, he came a few steps nearer me, and bawled:

 

"Thou’rt somewhat hard of hearing, friend. I said, Thy name and

business? Prithee, give both quickly."

 

"My name is of small account," I answered; "and for my business, know

that it concerns one Robert Ferguson."

 

That name had done so well for me before, that I could think of nothing

better; but, alack! it failed me this time.

 

"That will not serve thee, friend. ’Tis not sufficient," quoth the man

sternly. "If thy business indeed concerns our chaplain, show thy pass,

or give the watchword."