“What of the gentleman that I brought in wounded? Is he better, Jacob?”
“The women,” said Jacob, “have coddled and nursed him, I promise you. What, he hath lived like a fighting cock, and is now able to move about again. Yea, yea, the young lasses do hover round him like a parcel of hens round a young cock’ril. ’Tis a fine thing, I warrant ye, William, to wear the King’s uniform and fight in the wars.”
“Why, for that matter, Jacob,” I answered, “I have worn his Majesty’s uniform while I’ve been away, and have not only fought but got wounded.”
“What, thou hast fought, lad? With a sword, and in battle? And hast killed thy man, I warrant, eh?”
“I killed one or two poor fellows, Jacob,” I said, sighing at the thought of the dead men’s faces.
“God be praised!” said Jacob. “The King hath the less enemies. Yea, I will warrant thee for a right swashing blow. ’Twas I who taught thee, lad, eh? And John, our parson’s son, did he kill his man, too? Ay, ay, ay! Oh, if I had but been there to see it! Thank the Lord for all mercies, say I.”
I was somewhat proud of my achievements, of which I had to give a full and particular account to my mother and the girls as soon as they appeared in the great kitchen to give me my breakfast. Not a jot of my story did they lose, nor did I spare any of the details save when their faces showed such signs of fear that I forbore to trouble them further. Glad indeed were they all three to see me back, and embraced me one and all as if I had returned from the dead instead of from so short a journey.
“But what of your guest, mother?” said I, when I had eaten and drunk and had delivered to Rose certain messages sent by her father. “Jacob tells me he can move about again and seems somewhat recovered.”
“He kept his bed until yesterday afternoon,” said Lucy, “and then came down into the garden a while. Such a white face as he has. You would not think that he had much fighting in him.”
“He has been very ill,” said my mother, “for he has lost a deal of blood, and I insisted on his keeping quiet. But he is now somewhat recovered, and will, please God, do well under my nursing. He has asked to see you, William, when you can find it convenient to attend him, for he heard of the battle yesterday and he is anxious to hear your news.”
So I presently went up to the sick man’s chamber and there told him all that I had seen and heard, he meanwhile listening with much sorrow that the King’s cause had again suffered a defeat.
“This Cromwell, Master Dale,” said he, “is showing himself such a leader that I fear me he will obtain the upper hand in the struggle. Time and again he beats us by sheer persistence in his own methods. Yea, I cannot see aught but defeat in this matter. Newcastle and his following, you say, have gone, and our forces are therefore the weaker. Alas! and while men are wanted, here I lie helpless and naught but a burden to you.”
“As to that, sir,” I hastened to say, “burden you are none, for we count ourselves happy in being able to serve you, and I am very sure that my mother will not let you out of her keeping until you are cured and sound.”
And that indeed she would not, for it was her great delight to be nursing and healing of sick people, as all that neighbourhood knew. So, however impatient Captain Trevor was of the delay necessitated by his wound, he was bound to remain at Dale’s Field until he was sound again, for my mother treated him like a child and prescribed and ordered for him just as she would have done for me or Lucy had we been in like case. Now and then her patient professed to repine at his cruel fate, but I do not think that there was much reality in his sorrow, for he had all that man can want and was never lonely.
Our harvest began early that year, and it was nearly over by the middle of August, and Captain Trevor was still with us. He had then so far recovered from the effects of his wound that he was able to walk about the garden and orchard, and even into the harvest field, which he often did, accompanied by Rose and Lucy, who had not been behindhand in nursing him. These two, indeed, chiefly amused him and saw to his needs, for I was out all day in the land, and my mother was busily occupied about the house. These three, then, became great friends, and you might find them at any hour of the afternoon under one of the great apple-trees in our orchard, the two maidens busy with their needles, and the captain telling them stories of his adventures, of which he had a considerable store, having travelled in many lands and seen much service. For myself, I was pleased that he and they should be thus diverted; but Ben Tuckett, coming one day and finding them thus engaged, was somewhat disturbed, and came straight to me with a face as long as a fiddle.
“It seems to me, Will,” said worthy Benjamin, “that one of us two, or maybe both, had better look to our own business.”
“That, Ben,” said I, “is just what I am doing, for I have been in this barley-field since five o’clock this morning.”
“A fig for the barley!” said he. “What has that to do with it?
