That second"s hesitation was fatal, for the hay-fork driven with force by the yeoman, took him in the shoulder, and tumbled him heavily to the ground. He had a confused sense of having done something very foolish and unsoldierlike, of falling with a thud from his horse, of a sharp pain in the shoulder, and then his senses left him.
When he recovered consciousness, the unfortunate Roundhead found himself lying on a couch inside the farmhouse. He was at first dimly aware that a somewhat heated discussion was going on in one quarter of the room, and that some person with gentle touch bent over him and tended to his hurts. In another moment, his senses having fully returned, he could distinguish the voices of the disputants, and knew that they were talking about himself.
The farmer"s wife, good mistress Cooke, was denouncing her husband"s folly in having wounded the soldier, and thus brought the man nigh to death, and the yeoman, himself, in grave danger of arrest, court martial, and the gallows.
""Tis thy hot temper, of which I have so often spoken, and which thou never canst control, that has led thee into this mess--and a pretty mess it is, upon my conscience," said the dame, "What harm had the poor fellow done to thee or thine, that thou must prod him with the fork, as thou dost a truss of hay, and tumble him headlong out of the saddle. A mercy it is he did not break his neck by the fall. As it is, he is not seriously hurt, though the back of his head will carry a lump for many a day, and his shoulder will be stiff enough for weeks.
The next thing that will happen, I suppose, will be that thou wilt have the whole band of them--foot and horse--about the house, and they will carry thee away a prisoner, and I and the bairns will een be tumbled out upon the road-side."
"Stop thy chatter," growled the farmer, his courage somewhat overawed by the volubility and sting of his wife"s tongue. "Wouldst have me let a Roundhead knave, an enemy to the King, rob and plunder me of the grey mare, and a sheep from the fold, without using the hay-fork when "tis in my hand. Death and d.a.m.nation is too good for all such rogues."
..."Death and d.a.m.nation," quoth the dame. "Death and d.a.m.nation, forsooth. That is like to be thy reward for the business. Out of the room, man, for thy presence drives away my patience. Out thou goest, while I see if I can bring the poor fellow round, and make amends for thy fool"s folly."
She bundled the farmer out, and at this moment the Roundhead opened his eyes. Then he shut them suddenly, as though some bright light had dazzled him, for there, bending close above him, was the bonny face of the maiden, whose dazzling beauty had been the cause of his undoing.
She had been tending to his hurts, and was gazing at him anxiously, wondering the while if he were about to die.
The Roundhead did not long remain with closed eyes, for the vision of the maid was too sweet to lose for want of the effort of raising his lids. He gazed straight into her eyes, and smiled; and the girl, finding him fully alive, and conscious of her presence, blushed crimson, and drew backwards in confusion. Her movement attracted the dame, who by this time had got rid of her husband; and having no special desire to be the recipient of attentions from an old lady--no matter how estimable and kindly disposed she might be--the Roundhead, with an effort sat up. He had not been seriously injured by his fall, which had done nothing more than deprive him of his senses for a short time; and the thrust in the shoulder was nothing more serious than a flesh wound; now that the bleeding had been stopped, he was really little the worse for his misadventure.
"I thank you, madam," said he to the farmer"s wife, "for your kindness and attention. Doubtless your good offices, and those of the young lady, have saved my life; and I promise you they shall not be forgotten in my report to my commanding officer."
Relieved as she was to find the Roundhead out of all danger, poor Dame Cooke was terribly upset on hearing the concluding words of the soldier.
"Oh, sir," said she, the tears springing to her eyes, "must you indeed report the misdeeds of my hot-headed husband. If he is taken, and called to account for this mishap, I much fear that his punishment will be severe. If you could overlook--could find some excuse--could----"
She broke off, utterly unable to say more, but her eyes pleaded with the soldier.
Restraining an inclination to smile, with an effort, the Roundhead said solemnly:
"A bandaged head and shoulder must of necessity give rise to comment.
And how can I escape from the necessity of a report? Moreover, there is the matter of the grey mare, and the sheep."
"They shall be sent to your camp within the hour," put in the woman eagerly; "and more likewise, if ye will only be merciful to my good man."
Other talk followed, but for reasons of his own, the Roundhead omitted to a.s.sure the dame as fully as she could have wished, that she should hear no more about the matter. It was not without a feeling of great trepidation that she listened to his last words of grat.i.tude for her personal attentions, and witnessed his departure.
Mounted on his horse, he rode slowly down the lane, and not till the farmhouse had disappeared from sight--hidden by a bend in the lane, and a dip in the road--did he meet a single soul. Now, however, he reined in his charger suddenly; and he felt his heart beat quicker as he beheld the pretty maid standing in the road barring his path.
Off came his hat, with a sweeping bow, that would have done credit to a Cavalier; and he bent gallantly in the saddle to converse with the fair being who had waylaid him with the evident intention of speaking to him.
"Oh, sir," said the maid, her voice trembling with emotion, her face rosy with excitement and bashfulness; "you will forgive my father will you not? He is not a bad man, and if anything happened to him, it would break my heart, and my mother"s also. Do not punish him, and mother and I will make amends in some way."
The Roundhead looked at the maid, then cast his eyes rapidly up and down the lane, and a twinkle of merriment shone in his glance.
"You are quite willing to compensate for your father"s sins--to render a service if I pledge myself to silence on his misdeeds."
"I will do anything," said the maid, eagerly.
The Roundhead bent low in his saddle, until his face was dangerously near that of his companion. There was a look in his eyes which caused the maid to blush a deeper red, and set her heart pit-a-pat with a thrill of strange and joyous excitement.
"Then kiss me," was all he said.
The girl dropped her eyes a moment, then looked full into his, and finally raised her lips and kissed him.
"Now," she said, "remember your promise, and keep it."
Then with a mischievous nod of her head, that caused her curls to dance in the sun, she skipped out of his reach, and ran up the lane towards the farm.
He turned the horse as though to pursue her, but contented himself with calling after her, "Tell your mother not to trouble about the grey mare and the sheep. I will come for them myself--another day."
He doffed his hat, and the girl waved her hand; and then the Roundhead trotted off to explain in some cunning fashion how he had foolishly met with an accident, and if his colonel had no objection he would go for the grey mare and the sheep another day. The young man was a favourite officer with his superiors, and his colonel had no objection whatever, so the farmer heard no more about his attack upon the Parliamentary forager.
It is not to be supposed that human nature of the masculine gender, however much inclined to Puritanism, could, after having once tasted the sweet lips of the farmer"s daughter, resist the longing for more of such delights. And so the Roundhead more than once or twice made his way towards the farm; and either, owing to his cleverness, or to the strangest coincidence, it so happened that he never returned to quarters without having held some converse with the maid.
In this way the time pa.s.sed, and to the two lovers it seemed as though everything was sweet and fair, and as though war, and suffering, and death were not abroad in the land. Indeed, so far, the revolution had brought nothing but fortune to the young man, for he was already promised a captaincy when next the troops were put in motion; and then he would move onward to fresh adventures, wherein he hoped to add to his laurels, so that when the wars came to an end, he would have a position of some standing to offer to his bride.
At last there came a day when Colonel Dukinfield bade his men make ready to march. Messengers had ridden in on foam-flecked steeds, and it was understood that great events were about to transpire. The troops looked to their arms, burnished up their breast-plates, and head pieces, and after a busy day spent in preparations, made ready to pa.s.s their last night in Longdendale in the fashion that the Puritan soldier loved.
When the night had fallen, groups of soldiers were gathered within the best rooms of the farms whose owners--being favourers of the Parliament--had gladly welcomed and billeted the Roundheads, and the host having brought forth some musical instruments, which were tuned up forthwith, soon the voices of all were joining in a Puritan chant of praise. Loud and long that night sang the Puritans, and ever and anon, in the intervals between the chants, some of them, in nasal tones, would break out into prayer--strange old-fashioned pet.i.tions, in which the Lord was asked to strengthen the arms of the Parliament, and to sweep the Royalist faction away as the leaves are scattered before the wind. Then with the first break of day the bugles sounded; and, leaving the fair Longdendale land behind them, the Roundheads pa.s.sed to scenes of grim contest--some joining in the conflicts in Yorkshire, others partic.i.p.ating in different sieges in Lancashire and Cheshire. After their departure, Longdendale was visited in turn by bands of Cavaliers, who rode towards the points of strife; and then for a time the valley was left to its rural quietness.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "A PURITAN CHANT OF PRAISE."]
For some weeks the maid heard nothing of her lover and her only consolation during his absence was to chat and talk with the wives and sweethearts of Longdendale men who had joined Colonel Dukinfield"s troops, and ridden off to the fight.
One day, however, when the tasks about the farm were all done, she sat in the old-fashioned seat in the advanced porch of the steading, which looked out towards the west. It was the close of a glorious day, and far away over the great levels of the Cheshire plain, the sun was setting--flooding the earth and sky with a light that seemed too beautiful to be real. It was as though one looked right into the gates of heaven. The farmer and his wife were seated near, for they, too, were weary with the toil of the day, and were resting for a s.p.a.ce in the cool of the evening before the darkness fell.
Suddenly the girl raised her head as though to listen, and then pointing towards the sunset, she uttered a loud scream.
"There, there! do you not see them? the Roundheads are beaten back, and their leader falls. It is he, my love--and oh!--they have slain him----"
Then she fell back into the seat and sobbed, and shivered, and moaned.
The farmer took her by the shoulders, and shook her.
"Art daft, my la.s.s," said he, "or dreaming. What is it thou see"st?"
For a moment the girl could not do anything but sob and moan, then, recovering herself, she told her parents that, as she gazed at the sunset, it seemed as though the western heavens were alive with the figures of men--she could see the Roundhead troops rushing to the a.s.sault, at their head was the form of her lover, and even as she looked, the Royalists repulsed the attack, and in the melee she saw her lover fall, his brain pierced by a musket ball. It seemed, too, that she could hear the noise of the piece, and the death-shriek as he fell.
"Tut-tut," said the farmer, ""tis nothing but a dream. Thou hast been dozing, that is all."
The mother also tried to comfort her, and the two led her inside, but that night when the farmer and his spouse sought their chamber, the latter said in an awesome whisper:
""Tis the gift of sight, good man. My grandmother had it; and I fear that the vision she has seen will prove true."
Some days pa.s.sed, and nothing was heard of the great strife which waged beyond the valley; but one day a man, pale and thin from suffering, seated upon a jaded steed, rode wearily into Longdendale.
Near Mottram town he met Yeoman Cooke, whom he accosted; and the latter looked at him with a start of surprise.