Ainslee's, Vol. 15, No. 6, July 1905. Various

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СКАЧАТЬ spite of her peremptory commands, there was still further parley before the coach was once more in progress, but the Lady Barbara, held in converse by Mr. Ashley, did not hear it, nor did she see that one of her escorting cavaliers remained behind when the coach moved on.

      “I’ve reasons of my own for knowing whether the fellow still lingers in this vicinity,” Cecil Lindley had declared. “I’ll promise not to harm him, not to hold him; but I’ll search the spot where Lady Barbara’s coach was stopped.”

      “But not single-handed!” Lord Farquhart had cried. “If you must stay, if you must go on your fool’s errand, at least take one or more of the men with you.”

      “Nay, I’ve no fear for myself, but – but – ” Lindley had hesitated. “Our gentleman highwayman knows the standing of his victims too well for me to have fear for my own safety. But I’ll go alone, for I’ll pass the night at my cousin Ogilvie’s. His place is near at hand, and I’d not care to quarter men on him at this unseemly hour. Good luck to you,” he had cried; “and good luck to me,” he had added, as he separated himself from them and rode away.

      VIII

      The night was so far advanced that the moon was now directly overhead, and it was not very long before Lindley saw, not a hundred yards ahead of him, a white horse, ridden negligently by a somewhat slovenly lad – hooded, cloaked and doubled up in the saddle, as though riding were a newly acquired accomplishment. The road was lonely enough to instill an eerie feeling in the stoutest heart, and yet the lad seemed quite unmoved when Lindley, after one or two vocal appeals, laid a heavy hand on his horse’s bridle.

      “Are ye stone deaf, my lad, or asleep, or merely mooning over some kitchen wench?” demanded Lindley, with asperity.

      “Neither, my master,” answered the lad, in the cracking voice that leaps unbidden from piping youth to manly depths. “I’m uncommonly good of hearing. I’d sure fall off my horse if I were asleep, and the wench who’s most in my mind would be sadly out of place in a kitchen.”

      “Didn’t you hear me calling, then?” Lindley was reining in his own steed to keep pace with the white horse.

      “Surely I heard your halloo” – the boy’s hand drew his hood closer about his face – “but I did not know that it was addressed to me.”

      “You’re servant to Master James Ogilvie, are you not?” Lindley’s tone implied a statement rather than a question, but the lad denied him.

      “No, you’re wrong. I’m no servant of Master James Ogilvie’s.”

      “But it’s Mistress Judith Ogilvie’s horse you ride!” Again Lindley made an assertion.

      “Ay, you’re right there,” answered the boy. “Once wrong, once right. Try again, my master.”

      “It’s you who’ll be tried, I’m thinking,” said Lindley, once again laying his hand on the scarlet bridle of the white horse. “What do you with Mistress Judith’s horse at this hour of the night, if you’re not Master Ogilvie’s servant?”

      “I might be servant to Mistress Judith,” hazarded the lad.

      “No insolence, boy,” quoth Lindley, working himself into a fine rage. “Mistress Judith has no servants that are not of her father’s household.”

      “Ah, that proves that you’ve not seen Mistress Judith Ogilvie.” A faint ripple, that might have been laughter, shook the boy’s words. “All men are servants to Mistress Ogilvie, all men who have laid eyes on the lady.”

      “And so you’re serving Mistress Judith by riding her horse from The Jolly Grig to the Ogilvie stables?” The sneer in Lindley’s voice was evident, and he tried again to take possession of the scarlet bridle that had slipped or had been withdrawn from his fingers.

      “Ay, my master, the horse had strayed while Mistress Judith was gathering wild flowers in the Ogilvie woods. And since you may have reason for your curiosity, I’ll add that the maid was afraid her father would deprive her of the horse if he knew of this mischance, and she dared not trust one of the stable boys to search for it, so she came to me.”

      “And thanking you for so much courtesy, add but one more favor,” scoffed Lindley. “Who and what may you be that Mistress Judith should come to you for aid?”

      Lindley could see the careless shrug of the lad’s shoulders as he answered:

      “Why, as I told you to-night, I’m servant to Miss Judith Ogilvie, servant and lover of Mistress Judith Ogilvie.”

      “Lover!” The word halted at Lindley’s teeth, and his eyes rested superciliously on the slouched figure beside him.

      “Ay, lover,” answered the lad, ignoring Lindley’s tone, unconscious of his look. “As the brook loves the moon, as the brook holds the moon in its heart and cherishes her there, so hold I Mistress Judith in my heart.”

      “I like not your manner, boy, neither your manner nor your conversation.” Lindley’s anger expressed itself in his voice.

      “Alas! I cannot change my manner so readily, my lord. But the conversation? It is of your own seeking. It is yours to end when you please. I am in no hurry, and the road lies ahead of you.” The lad halted his horse, but Lindley also drew rein.

      “Answer straight who and what you are,” he cried. “I am cousin to Master James Ogilvie, and I have a right to demand an answer to those questions.”

      “Ah! A straight question always merits an answer, Master – Master – But I know not your name,” said the boy. “I’m called Johan, and I’m bonded for a term of years to a man who has many names, and who plays many parts.”

      “You are one of the play actors, then!” burst from Lindley’s lips.

      “Yes, one of the play actors.” The lad’s words were simple, yet something in his tone gave new offense.

      “I’ll have my cousin whip you from his lands before the morning’s an hour old,” spluttered Lindley.

      The boy’s laughter rang through the woods.

      “Master Ogilvie had already made that threat, but Mistress Judith sent him word that the day we were whipped from the common, that day would she whip herself from his house. Mistress Judith is, I think, only too ready to sign a bond with my master. She loves – She’d make a good actor, would Mistress Judith.”

      There was a long silence. The two horses were again pacing with well matched steps through the miry road. Twice, when the moonlight shone full upon them, Lindley tried to see the lad’s face, but each time only the pointed hood of the slouchy cape rewarded his curiosity. From his voice he judged his companion to be not more than fourteen or fifteen years old, although his words would have proved him older.

      Suddenly the lad spoke.

      “If you are cousin to Master James Ogilvie, as you say, why you are, then, cousin, too, to my Mistress Judith. You have seen her lately? Possibly she has confessed her plans, her ambitions, to you!”

      “Nay, I’ve not seen the girl since we were children,” admitted Lindley, almost against his will.

      “Well, she has – why, she has grown up since then. You would care to hear what she СКАЧАТЬ