Our Admirable Betty Part 77

"Content ye, my lushy cove, the others aren't far."

"The others, curse 'em! And what o' me s.h.i.+vering to the bones o' me as I'm a roaring lad----"

"What, Jerry," cried another voice, "is the Captain wi' you?"

"Aye, here I am--show a light!"

"Why so I will an ye gimme time. So we're all met, then--all here, Nick?" Followed the sound of flint on steel, a flash, a glow, a light dazzling in its suddenness, a light that revealed four masked men, mud-splashed and bedraggled, thronged about a lanthorn on the uneven floor.

"Now mark me all," said Joseph pus.h.i.+ng up his vizard. "You, Jerry and the Captain will ride to the cross-roads, the finger-post a-top o' the hill. The coach should reach thereabouts in half an hour or so. Benno and I strike across the fields and join my gentleman's coach and come down upon you by the cross-roads. So soon as you've stopped the coach, do you hold 'em there till we come, then it's up wi' the lady and into my gentleman's coach wi' her. D'ye take me?"

"No we don't!" growled Jerry, shaking the rain from his hat, "how a plague are we t' know which is the right coach----"

"By stopping all as come your way----"

"Ged so--we will that!" nodded the Captain.

"And look'ee Jerry and be d.a.m.ned, if you----"

"Stand!" The four sprang apart and stood staring at the Major who stood, a pistol in each hand, blocking the doorway between them and the howling desolation outside. "Move so much as a finger either one of you and he's a dead man. Quick, Sergeant---their wrists--behind!"

Thus while the Major stood covering the four with levelled weapons watchful and ready, Sergeant Zebedee stepped forward with several lengths of stout cord across his arm. Coming up to the Captain who chanced to be nearest, the Sergeant was in the act of securing him, when Jerry uttered a dreadful cry:

"G.o.d save us--look!" For an instant the Major's glance wavered and in that moment Joseph had kicked out the light and there and then befell a fierce struggle in the dark, a desperate smiting and grappling; no chance here for pistol-play, since friend and foe were inextricably mixed, a close-locked, reeling fray. So while the storm raged without, the fight raged within, above the howling of wind and lash of rain rose piercing cries, shouts, groans and hoa.r.s.e-panted oaths. Smitten by a random blow the Major fell and was kicked and trampled upon by unseen feet; yet he staggered up in the dark, his long arms closed in relentless grip, his iron fingers sought and found a hold that never loosed even when he fell and rolled again beneath those unseen, trampling feet. Little by little the ghastly sounds of conflict died away and in their place was again the roar and shriek of wind.

"Zebedee--Sergeant Zeb!"

"Thank G.o.d!" a hoa.r.s.e voice panted. "A moment sir--must have--light.

Hot work your honour--never ask for warmer!" After some delay the Sergeant contrived to light his lanthorn; and the Major, looking into the face of the man he held, loosed his grip and got to his feet.

"'Tis him they call the Captain!" said the Sergeant, flas.h.i.+ng his light.

"Pray G.o.d I haven't killed him!" the Major panted, clasping one hand to his side.

"'Twould but save the hangman a job, sir. Lord! but you're ripped and tore, sir!" The Major glanced from his disordered dress to the Sergeant's b.l.o.o.d.y face:

"Are you hurt, Zeb?" he questioned.

"Nought to matter, sir. Look'ee, here lies the rogue Jerry--zounds, and a-coming to already! Hold the light, sir--may as well tie him up nice and comfortable."

"And this other fellow too, Zeb--he's stirring, I'm glad to see----"

"Glad sir? Zooks, 'tis pity you didn't kill him----"

"Nay, I'll ha' no killing, Zebedee----"

"Zounds sir, why so queasy-stomached nowadays? 'Tain't as if you'd never----"

"Enough, Sergeant! I'm no longer a soldier and besides--things are--are different quite--nowadays."

"Why look'ee sir, where's t'others? Here be but two o' the rogues----"

"Only two, Zeb?--give me the lanthorn!" By its light they searched the mill inside and out; gruesome signs of the vicious struggle they found in plenty but, save themselves and their two groaning captives, the place was empty.

"'Tis mortal hard," mourned the Sergeant, "here's me i' the dark, seemingly a-knocking of 'em all down one arter t'other, continual.

Yet, 'spite said zeal here's but two to show for same, sure enough."

"Why then we must after 'em, Zeb!" said the Major with a sudden sharp catch of the breath. "Go fetch the horses!" Forthwith Sergeant Zebedee hurried away and, left alone, the Major, leaning against the wall, set a hand to his side and kept it there until the Sergeant reappeared, leading their horses.

"You picked up my pistols, Zeb?"

"And put 'em back i' the holsters, sir. And the rogues are got away sure enough, their horses are gone, d'ye see."

"Then we must spur, Zebedee."

"Aye sir. And the rain's stopped, praise G.o.d!" quoth the Sergeant and blew out the lanthorn leaving their captives to groan in the dark.

"Take the lead, Zeb," said the Major as they reached the high-road--"the finger-post a-top the hill--and gallop."

CHAPTER XLI

CONCERNING HIGHWAYMEN AND THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE

My lady Betty leaned back in the corner of her coach, gazed at her aunt's slumbering features dim-seen in the light of the flickering lamps, and yawned. The storm had abated, the rain had pa.s.sed, but the darkness was around them, a darkness full of rioting wind, and mud was below them through which the heavy wheels splashed dismally as the great coach laboured on its way.

My lady Betty, stretching rounded limbs luxuriously, yawned again and having nothing particular to look at, closed her eyes; but, almost immediately she opened them rather wider than usual, and sat up suddenly as, from somewhere amid the gusty dark outside, a loud voice hailed, a pistol cracked and the coach pulled up with a jerk.

Instantly Lady Belinda awoke, screamed "Highwaymen!" and swooned. Next moment the coach door swung open and Lady Betty saw a sodden hat with a hideous, masked face below; she saw also two arms that seized her roughly, dragged her forward and whirled her out into the tempestuous darkness. Hereupon my lady struggled once, found it vain, screamed once, felt the cry blown away and lost in the wind and, resisting no more, reserved her forces for what might be. Next she was aware of a dim shape, was bundled through a narrow opening, was seized by hands that aided her to a cus.h.i.+oned seat, heard the slam of a door, a hoa.r.s.e command, and was jolted fast over an uneven road.

Instinctively she reached out her hand, groping for the door, felt that hand clasped in smooth, strong fingers, and a voice spoke close beside her:

"That would be unwise, sweet Bet?"

Recognising that voice, she freed her hand and shrank back into her corner, s.h.i.+vering all at once; yet when she spoke her voice was almost casual.

"This is quite surprising, Mr. Dalroyd."

"But more delightful!" he retorted, and she was aware that his hand, in the darkness, was seeking hers again.

"Yet--how very foolish and--and unnecessary!" said she a little breathlessly.

"Unnecessary--ha, perhaps, dear Betty----"

"Had I not promised to fly with you, next week?"

"True, my Bet, true, but next week is--next week. And then besides though you would have run off with me in your own time yet I prefer to run off with you in my own time. Moreover----"