“Save your ears, Master Wheatman!” said
Charles, grinning at me. “What’s
the blemish?”
“Davie!” said I.
The Prince rocked with laughter, and her ladyship
enjoyed it quite as fully.
“It’s the smartest hit I’ve heard
since I left Paris,” said the Prince.
“Sir,” said I, “be good enough to
explain. Who is Davie?”
“Her ladyship’s husband,” he replied.
“Damme!” I ejaculated. “I thought
he was only an ordinary Scotchman.” Whereat
everybody laughed.
“A most delightful interlude in a heavy day’s
work,” said the Prince. “I am unfeignedly
vexed, ladies, at having to rob you of so agreeable
a cavalier, but I need Master Wheatman myself.”
* * * *
*
Half an hour later the Colonel stood with me at the
town’s end to give me my final instructions.
I was on Sultan, with urgent letters in my pocket
and important work on hand.
We took a pinch of snuff together very solemnly.
Then he snapped his box, rubbed Sultan’s velvet
nose, shook my hand, said good-bye gruffly, and strode
back townward. I cantered on into the open road
and the night.
MY NEW HAT
Here was what I had dreamed of. Here was the
dearest wish of my heart gratified. I was twenty-three,
and I had three-and-twenty’s darling equipment—a
magnificent horse, a pair of unerring pistols, a fine
rapier, a pocket full of guineas, the memory of a
woman’s grace and beauty, and a tough job in
hand. The only material thing I really wanted
was a new hat, for yester morning’s milk and
subsequent bashings and bruisings had ruined my old
one. I had not bothered about it as long as it
had bobbed alongside the grey woollen hood of Margaret’s
domino, but, cheek by jowl with her new hat, it had
become an offence, and must be remedied.
The black shadow flitted in and out of my mind.
I was clean and clear of all blood-guiltiness.
I had struck for Margaret as he would have struck
for Kate. Fate had been too strong for us, but
whatever penance life should lay upon me should be
paid to the uttermost farthing. I had this comfort
that, could Jack ride up to me now, there would be
no change in him. There would be for me the old
hearty hand-grip and the boyish, affectionate smile,
just as when he had run in to me on the town-hall
steps.
I had been commissioned by the Prince to do three
things: first, to deliver a dispatch to my Lord
George Murray, wherever I should find him, which would
probably be at Ashbourne, twelve miles ahead along
a good road; second, to carry a letter to Sir James
Blount at his house called Ellerton Grange, somewhere
near Uttoxeter; third, to make a wide circuit west
and south of Derby, picking up all the information
I could as to the feeling of the populace and the
disposition of the enemy’s forces, and to report
on this to the Prince in person at Derby at six o’clock
the following night. On this third commission
the Prince and Colonel Waynflete had laid great stress.
An independent and trustworthy report was, it appeared,
of the utmost importance.
