Peregrine's Progress Part 91

"Good morrow to thee, Thomas!" quoth he to the portly and somnolent landlord who responded to the summons. "Chaise will be round soon, I hope?"

"Whenever ye do so wish, Mr. Anthony, sir."

"Excellent! Then pray, Tom, take hence this stuff!" And he pointed to a bottle at his elbow.

"Stuff, sir! Oh, Mr. Anthony--stuff?" exclaimed the landlord in sorrowful reproach, his somnolence forgotten in surprise. "It be brandy, sir--best French--your very own particular--"

"Aye, Tom, I know it is, and begad, I'm l.u.s.ting for a mouthful--that's why I bid you take it away--drink coffee instead, confound it! So hence with it, Thomas--away!"

Very round of eye, the landlord took up the bottle and wandered off with it like one in a dream.

Anthony gulped his coffee, but, though the fare was excellent, ate little, fidgeted with his stock, shuffled in his chair, glanced frequently and stealthily at his watch and, in fine, discovered all those symptoms that indicated an extreme perturbation of mind.

"Devil take it, Perry--how you eat!" he exclaimed at last.

"The ham is delicious, Anthony--".

"Dooced stuff would choke me! Oh, by heaven, I'd give anything--everything, to take your place for the next hour!"

"But then, Anthony, it would probably be I who could not eat!"

"Tush, man, I'll hit you the ace of spades six times out of seven at twelve paces! Four o'clock, by heaven! I wonder if that confounded chaise will be ready yet!" And up he sprang and hasted away into the yard and almost immediately came hurrying back to tell me the vehicle was at the door.

Outside the mist seemed thick as ever, though the east was brightening to day; so I entered the chaise, followed by Anthony growling disgust, the door slammed, and through the open window came the round head of Tom the landlord to bob at us in turn.

"'T will grow finer mayhap by an' by, sirs," quoth he, "hows'ever, good luck an' good fortun' to ye, gentlemen--all right, Peter!" he called to the postillion. Whereupon a whip cracked, the chaise lurched forward and landlord and inn vanished in the swirling mist.

For a while we rode without talking, Anthony scowling out of his window, I staring out of mine at an eddying haze which, thinning out ever and anon, showed vague shapes that peeped forth only to be lost again, spectral trees, barns and ricks, looming unearthly in the half-light.

"Perry, you--you are confoundedly silent!"

"You are not particularly loquacious either," I retorted, slipping my hand within his arm.

"Why, no--no, b'gad--I'm not, Perry. But then, it's such a peculiarly d.a.m.nable morning, d'ye see."

"Well, it will mayhap grow finer later on, remember."

"Hope to heaven it does!"

"It would make things--a little pleasanter, Anthony."

"Peregrine, if--should anything--anything--er--dooced happen to you, I'll--aye, by G.o.d, I'll fight the fellow myself."

"I beg you will do no such thing--I implore you Anthony."

"Oh? Damme and why not?"

"For the sake of Barbara--your Loveliness--your future happiness--"

"Tush, man!" he exclaimed bitterly. "That dream is over!"

"And I tell you Happiness is awaiting you--will come seeking you very soon, I feel sure."

"How should you know this?"

"You may have heard, Anthony, that people in such a position as mine--people who are facing the possibility of speedy dissolution, are sometimes gifted with a clearer vision--an intuition--call it what you will. However, I repeat my a.s.surance that Happiness is awaiting you, coming to you with arms outstretched, if you will but have faith and patience--a happiness greater, fuller, richer than you have ever known."

At this, he turned to scowl out of the window again and I out of mine, and thus we came to an end of the rutted by-lanes we had been traversing and turned into the smoother going of the main road.

We had gone but a mile, as I judge, when, borne to our ears came the faint, rhythmic beat of fast-galloping hoofs growing momentarily louder.

"Someone in the devil's own hurry!" exclaimed Anthony, letting down his window. "No man would gallop his horse so without reason!

Hark--hark, he must be riding like a madman--and in this fog! What the devil? n.o.body to lay us by the heels--eh, Perry?"

"G.o.d forbid!" I exclaimed fervently, as Anthony leaned from the window.

"Nothing to see--mist too thick!" said he. "But road's dooced narrow hereabouts, yet hark--hark how the fellow rides!" And indeed it seemed to me that there was something terrible in the relentless beat of these wildly galloping hoofs that were coming up with us so rapidly.

Anthony was peering from the window again; I heard him shout, felt the chaise swing jolting towards the hedge and the horseman was by--a blurred vision that flashed upon my sight and was gone.

"Missed by inches--dooced reckless, by Gad!" exclaimed Anthony, and I saw that his frown had vanished.

"What kind of a person was he?" I demanded.

"m.u.f.fled up to the ears, Perry, hat over his eyes--big horse--powerful beast. Going to clear up and be a fine day after all, I fancy."

"And it is nearly five o'clock!" said I, glancing at my watch.

"Hum!" sighed Anthony. "And here you sit as serenely untroubled, as placidly a.s.sured, as if you were the best shot in the world instead of the worst."

"Listen, Anthony!" I cried suddenly. "Do you hear anything--listen, man!" A faint throbbing upon the air, a pulsing beat growing louder and louder. "Do you hear it, Anthony, do you hear it?"

"No--yes--begad, Perry, it sounds like--"

"Another horse at full gallop, Anthony--and coming up behind us.

Another horseman--from the same direction!"

"Dev'lish strange, Perry. How many more of 'em?"

"There will be no more!" I exclaimed bitterly, and then, the chaise beginning to slow up, I thrust my head from the window to demand why we were stopping.

"Turnpike, sir!" answered the postboy. And peering through the haze before us I saw the tollgate, sure enough, and I turned to stare back down the road towards the second hard-riding horseman, and presently beheld a vague blur that resolved itself into a rapidly oncoming shape that swept down upon us through the swirling mist; the flutter of a long cloak, a spurred boot, a shadowy form bowed low in the saddle--all this I saw in one brief moment; then rose a hoa.r.s.e shout from the eddying mist ahead; the jingle of flung coins and, lifting his animal at the tollgate, the horseman cleared it at a bound and, plunging into the haze beyond, had vanished like a phantom.

And now I was seized with a pa.s.sion of haste and began to shout fevered orders at our postboy.

"Hurry--hurry! A guinea--ten guineas for your best speed! Drive, man, drive like the devil. Whip--spur!"

I remember tossing money to a hoa.r.s.e-voiced toll-keeper in a fur cap, and we were off in full career, the light chaise rocking and swaying.

I remember Anthony's look of surprise and my answering his half-hearted questions at random or not at all, for now I rode, my head out-thrust from the window, hearkening for the sound of galloping hoofs ahead of us.