Reputed Changeling, A eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 481 pages of information about Reputed Changeling, A.

Reputed Changeling, A eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 481 pages of information about Reputed Changeling, A.

The covering was stuffed into her mouth, and she was borne along some little way; then there was a pause, and she freed herself enough to say, “You shall have everything; only let me go;” and she felt for the money with which Sir Philip had supplied her, and for the watch given her by King James.

“We want you; nothing of yours,” said a voice.  “Don’t be afraid.  No one will hurt you; but we must have you along with us.”

Therewith she was pinioned by two large hands, and a bandage was made fast over her eyes, and when she shrieked out, “Mr. Fellowes!  Oh! where are you?” she was answered—­

“No harm has been done to the parson.  He will be free as soon as any one comes by.  ’Tis you we want.  Now, I give you fair notice, for we don’t want to choke you; there’s no one to hear a squall.  If there were, we should gag you, so you had best be quiet, and you shall suffer no hurt.  Now then, by your leave, madam.”

She was lifted on horseback again, and a belt passed round her and the rider in front of her.  Again she strove, in her natural voice, to plead that to stop her would imperil a man’s life, and to implore for release.  “We know all that,” she was told.  It was not rudely said.  The voice was not that of a clown; it was a gentleman’s pronunciation, and this was in some ways more inexplicable and alarming.  The horses were put in rapid motion; she heard the trampling of many hoofs, and felt that they were on soft turf, and she knew that for many miles round Winchester it was possible to keep on the downs so as to avoid any inhabited place.  She tried to guess, from the sense of sunshine that came through her bandage, in what direction she was being carried, and fancied it must be southerly.  On—­on—­on—­still the turf.  It seemed absolutely endless.  Time was not measurable under such circumstances, but she fancied noon must have more than passed, when the voice that had before spoken said, “We halt in a moment, and shift you to another horse, madam; but again I forewarn you that our comrades here have no ears for you, and that cries and struggles will only make it the worse for you.”  Then came the sound as of harder ground and a stop—­ undertones, gruff and manly, could be heard, the peculiar noise of horses’ drinking; and her captor came up this time on foot, saying, “Plaguy little to be had in this accursed hole; ’tis but the choice between stale beer and milk.  Which will you prefer?”

She could not help accepting the milk, and she was taken down to drink it, and a hunch of coarse barley bread was given to her, with it the words, “I would offer you bacon, but it tastes as if Old Nick had smoked it in his private furnace.”

Such expressions were no proof that gentle blood was lacking, but whose object could her abduction be—­her, a penniless dependent?  Could she have been seized by mistake for some heiress?  In that moment’s hope she asked, “Sir, do you know who I am—­Anne Woodford, a poor, portionless maid, not—­”

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Reputed Changeling, A from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.