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The New Forest Spy, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 15. The Search Continued |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE SEARCH CONTINUED The man had on a cobbler's leather apron, which he had rolled up and tucked in the strap. He had pulled on his jacket, but evidently without turning down the sleeves of his shirt, which showed through just beneath his shoulders in two rolls like mock muscles, while a very much battered felt hat, with a flap looped up to form three cocks, was worn jauntily upon his head. "Morning, sir," said the sergeant, looking the boy up and down sharply. "Are you Squire Froy?" "No, I am his son," said Waller haughtily, as he strode past the stiff-looking military man so as to bring himself within arm's length of the cobbler, and, with a movement quick as a flash, struck off his cocked hat and sent it flying. "What do you mean by that, sir?" he shouted at him. "Is that the way to enter a gentleman's house?" and with a half-run across the echoing polished oak boards he made a kick at the hat, and, to the great delight of the soldiers, sent it flying out through the porch. "If you weren't an old man I'd kick you, too," he continued, as the astounded constable dressed in a little brief authority, opened his mouth like a carp, too much amazed to speak. "You would have come sneaking round to the back door if my father had been at home, or else have stood wiping your dirty shoes upon the mat." Then, turning his back upon the man he addressed, he faced the leader of the soldiers. "Now, sergeant," he said, "what's the meaning of this intrusion?" There was a good deal of the cock bantam about the boy's ways and speech, but it was manly all the same. He had real authority, too, for speaking out to the rough, coarse-looking villager, and with quick military precision the sergeant, whose eyes sparkled on hearing his rank acknowledged, saluted sharply. "Beg pardon, sir; on duty," he said. "Me and my men, we are in search of French spies who are loose somewhere about the forest, and this man from down the village tells me that one or two of them are likely to be harboured here. Not a pleasant job, sir, but I am only obeying orders, and we shall have to search the place." "Search the place!" cried Waller hotly. "Yes, sir, in the King's name." "Oh," said Waller coolly, as he darted a furious glance at Gusset, who was still opening and shutting his mouth without making a sound; and then, noting that Martha and Bella had come to the door leading to the servants' offices, and were looking on, while the gardener, bearing his scythe, had come round to the porch, to be stopped by the soldier placed as sentry, who held his musket across the man's chest, "In the King's name, eh?" said Waller coolly. "Yes, sir. Very sorry, but my duty." "Oh, well, I am not going to blame you," said Waller; "but I should have thought as my father is a county magistrate this house ought to be respected." "Yes, sir, of course," said the sergeant; "but don't you see, it's like protecting him against the French." "Search away, then," cried Waller, "and when you have done--here, Martha!" "Yes, sir," came from the door. "Don't let these soldiers go away without giving them a crust of bread and cheese." "No, sir; I'll have it ready directly," cried Martha; and then, in a whisper to her fellow-servant, "Bless the boy! Don't he speak up like a man!" "Where are you going to begin, sergeant?" "Thank you, sir, for the lunch," said the sergeant, smiling; and he gave the lad another admiring look--one that took him in from top to toe, while his eyes seemed to speak the thoughts of his heart. "What a smart young officer he'd make! Shouldn't I like the job of drilling him into shape!" "Oh, we will begin at the bottom, sir, and search to the top." "But suppose there are Frenchmen here," said Waller, laughing, "why, they might be getting away into the woods while you are talking!" "Not they, sir," said the man, with a cunning smile. "I have got a man at each door as sentry, and two more on vedette back and front. Not much fear of that." "But suppose they make a bolt, like the rabbits do in the forest," said Waller. "Bad for them if they did, sir," replied the sergeant, rather sternly. "My men can shoot." Waller whistled softly. "Oh, ho!" he said; and he tapped the barrel of the sergeant's musket with his knuckles. "Loaded?" The man gave him a quiet nod. "Go on, then; search away, and get it done. You have been in the dining-room, I see." The village constable, who had been listening, with his eyes starting and ears seeming to project forward, here broke in, speaking in a husky, oily voice. "Big cellar, sergeant, all underneath the house, and iron gratings to let in the light." "What do you know about it?" cried Waller sharply. "Have you been prying and peering in?" "I am a-doin' of my duty, Master Waller Froy," said the man, swelling up like a turkey-cock, which bird he seemed greatly to resemble as, having found his voice, he began to show his importance, but with no other effect than to make the soldiers grin, while one of them, who had walked out past the sentry and picked up the cocked hat with the muzzle of his musket, now presented it to him. "Don't--don't do that!" cried the constable, starting back as if it were something alive. "You should never point a gun at anyone when you speak!" "Didn't speak," said the soldier, grinning more widely. "There, take your hat, constable," cried the sergeant, giving Waller a comical cock of his eye. "Brown Bess never barks unless we touch the trigger. Yes, sir, I have looked through the dining-room. Beautiful old-fashioned room, too. Excuse me for saying so. No secret passages there, I suppose?" "No," said Waller; "not one. Come and look here, then, next. I'll take you wherever you want to go. This is the drawing-room," and he threw open the door of the handsome low-ceilinged, old panelled chamber, with most of the furniture dating back so that it was nearly as old as the house. As he led the way into the room Waller winced, for Anthony Gusset was putting on his cocked hat again; but as he caught the boy's furious look he snatched it off. "Look here, sergeant," said Waller quietly; "I'll take you all over the house and answer any questions you like to put, or won't answer them, just as I please, but you can do your duty without that fat, stupid, village bumpkin?" "To be sure I can, sir. Here, you, constable, stop there with my sentry at the porch, and if you see a Frenchman bolt, you shout." As he spoke, the man backed Gusset into the hall, for he was following into the drawing-room, making him open his thick lips in fish like fashion once again as if to speak; but a prod in the ribs given by the sergeant's forefinger forced obedience, and he went out unwillingly into the porch. The sergeant returned to Waller, who was standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, whistling an old country ditty softly, while the two soldiers made a pretence of searching the room, and then looked for orders from their officer. "You haven't looked up the chimney, my lads," cried Waller, laughing. "Oh, you needn't stare; there's plenty of room in it for a horse to get up," and he laughingly stepped forward into the wide chimney-corner. "Look here, officer, you don't often see a place like this." "My word, no, sir!" said the sergeant, stooping down and following Waller into the great wide place. "They used to build in the old days, and make room for the smoke. Why, the ivy's hanging right down through the top." "Yes," said Waller: "plenty of ivy here. Now you'd like to see the library?" This was looked into, and then a slight search was made of what Waller called the schoolroom, and a little, old-fashioned boudoir. "That's all here," said the boy, "except the servant's places." "What about the cellar, sir?" said the sergeant. "Oh, we'll go into that through the outer hall," and, Waller, leading the way, the searchers passed through the various offices, and, on lights being provided and a big key being fetched from the squire's study table, the big, crypt-like, vaulted cellars were searched from end to end. Lastly, Waller led the way upstairs to the gallery, where the oaken polished floor echoed to the soldiers' heavy tread. "Where does that staircase lead, sir?" said the sergeant, as his task drew near its end. "Attics in the roof," said Waller. "Up you go." "Well, sir, I am getting rather tired of this job," said the man, hesitating. "Oh, but you have got it to do. Finish it off," said Waller carelessly; and he made way for the soldiers to pass up, and stood below swinging himself to and fro, balancing himself toe and heel. "Come on, my lads," said the sergeant. "Forward, and be smart. I am thinking that crust of bread and cheese must be ready by now." The men laughed good-humouredly, and the bare staircase creaked and groaned beneath their heavy tread, which directly afterwards made the upper passage, with its sloping ceiling, which followed the shapes of the gables, echo. That part of the search was quickly done, not so quickly that it did not give time to Waller to whistle the stave of the old Hampshire ditty three times over. He had just got to the last bar for this third time when the butt of the sergeant's musket was dropped with a heavy bang upon the floor overhead. "Beg pardon, sir," he shouted down to Waller. "There's one of these 'ere doors locked!" "Eh?" cried Waller, whose face now looked scarlet, and who stood for a moment or two holding his breath. "One door here locked, sir. I ought to see into every room." "Oh, to be sure! That's my den," cried the boy cavalierly--"my workshop. I am coming," and springing up two steps at a time he faced the sergeant, who, with two men, was waiting by the locked door. Waller thrust his hand into his pocket, and the sergeant looked at him sharply, for his breath, possibly from the exertion, came thick and fast, while the key seemed to stick in his pocket as if it had got across. "There you are," he said jauntily. "It's full of my rubbish and odds and ends. Catch!" He pitched the key, and the sergeant caught it with one hand as cleverly as if he had been a cricketer, turned, and began to insert it in the lock. "Mind the snakes!" cried Waller mockingly; while, in spite of a strong effort, he felt half choked, and his voice sounded strained and hard. "Snakes?" said the sergeant, pausing with the key half turned. "Up here?" "Yes," said Waller; "at least a dozen. I am a collector, you know." The sergeant gave him a searching look, hesitated a moment, and then, with a half-smile upon his lip, he turned the key. The bolt flew back with a sharp snap and he threw open the door. _ |
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