“How now, Captain Stickles?” cried Kirke,
the more angry because he had shown his cowardice;
“dare you, sir, to come betwixt me and my lawful
prisoner?”
“Nay, hearken one moment, Colonel,” replied
my old friend Jeremy; and his damaged voice was the
sweetest sound I had heard for many a day; “for
your own sake, hearken.” He looked so full
of momentous tidings, that Colonel Kirke made a sign
to his men not to shoot me till further orders; and
then he went aside with Stickles, so that in spite
of all my anxiety I could not catch what passed between
them. But I fancied that the name of the Lord
Chief-Justice Jeffreys was spoken more than once,
and with emphasis and deference.
“Then I leave him in your hands, Captain Stickles,”
said Kirke at last, so that all might hear him; and
though the news was good for me, the smile of baffled
malice made his dark face look most hideous; “and
I shall hold you answerable for the custody of this
prisoner.”
“Colonel Kirke, I will answer for him,”
Master Stickles replied, with a grave bow, and one
hand on his breast: “John Ridd, you are
my prisoner. Follow me, John Ridd.”
Upon that, those precious lambs flocked away, leaving
the rope still around me; and some were glad, and
some were sorry, not to see me swinging. Being
free of my arms again, I touched my hat to Colonel
Kirke, as became his rank and experience; but he did
not condescend to return my short salutation, having
espied in the distance a prisoner, out of whom he
might make money.
I wrung the hand of Jeremy Stickles, for his truth
and goodness; and he almost wept (for since his wound
he had been a weakened man) as he answered, “Turn
for turn, John. You saved my life from the Doones;
and by the mercy of God, I have saved you from a far
worse company. Let your sister Annie know it.”
[Illustration: 612.jpg Tailpiece]
SUITABLE DEVOTION
[Illustration: 613.jpg Illustrated Capital]
Now Kickums was not like Winnie, any more than a man
is like a woman; and so he had not followed my fortunes,
except at his own distance. No doubt but what
he felt a certain interest in me; but his interest
was not devotion; and man might go his way and be
hanged, rather than horse would meet hardship.
Therefore, seeing things to be bad, and his master
involved in trouble, what did this horse do but start
for the ease and comfort of Plover’s Barrows,
and the plentiful ration of oats abiding in his own
manger. For this I do not blame him. It is
the manner of mankind.
But I could not help being very uneasy at the thought
of my mother’s discomfort and worry, when she
should spy this good horse coming home, without any
master, or rider, and I almost hoped that he might
be caught (although he was worth at least twenty pounds)
by some of the King’s troopers, rather than
find his way home, and spread distress among our people.
Yet, knowing his nature, I doubted if any could catch,
or catching would keep him.
