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CHAPTER XII. OF A WARM MORNING′S WORK.
The next morning Gervase was lying longer abed than usual, having had a double share of duty the night before, when he was awakened by the sound of Mistress Sproule′s voice raised high in expostulation and anger. Of late she had lost much of her alacrity and it was only on great occasions and against those to whom her antipathy was strong, that the old fighting spirit manifested itself.

“The poor lad shall not be awakened, I tell you. He does the work of three, and you can see that he is even wearing himself to death, if you can see anything. When he first came to live in my house he had a cheek like a rose, and now he goes about like an old man as crossgrained as yourself. This blessed morning he will have his rest, if Elizabeth Sproule can keep you out.”

Then Gervase heard the low tones of a man′s voice endeavouring to reason with her. But the honest woman was not to be driven from her position. “Not for all the colonels or governors who ever wore sword or sash. He has neither wife nor mother to look after his welfare, and though he is a gentleman I love him nearly like one of my own. 196For a week you have kept the poor lad marching and watching, and you are one of the worst of them, Captain Macpherson.”

Gervase smiled where he lay, for he dearly loved a battle royal between the two, in which the victory usually lay with the weaker. Macpherson had gone grimly to the attack, but he had ended by falling nearly as much under her power as her husband himself.

“You are very right, Mistress Sproule,” Gervase heard the voice of the old soldier say, “and though it is an urgent matter, he will have half an hour more. You are right to be careful for him, and I like you none the worse for your watchfulness. It may be you will let me sit down within till he wakens?”

“That I will not. And you may even go whither you came from and tell them that.”

But Gervase, who had been greatly amused at his friend′s conciliatory tone, thought it time to interfere, and called out that he was awake and would see him.

“You see how well I am guarded,” he said, as Macpherson came into the room, “and I think you did not dispute the passage very warmly. The enemy was too sharp for you.”

“I have been learning my own weakness,” answered Macpherson, sitting down on the bed. “Now, my dear lad, how is the world going with you? I would that I did not see those deep lines on your young face, and the youth dragged out of you before your manhood has well begun. Did I not 197tell you what it was to stand behind stone walls, and hope against hope for the relief that would never come, and see the tender women and children stricken down without help or pity?”

“Nay, Macpherson, you are ill or you would not talk thus.”

“Indeed, I think I am, and I am growing old and childish. But I have been mad or worse for a week. With the deep water to the quays, and the good ships yonder with brave hearts on board of them, to think of what might be done and is not! ′Twas all very well,” he went on bitterly, “for Kirke, the lying rogue, to dragoon the poor ploughmen who stood gallantly by Monmouth, but ′tis hard to think that for want of a little courage we should die here like dogs. Better throw open the gates and let them murder us where we stand, than fight for those who will not help us.”

“This is but wild talk,” said Gervase.

“Truly, I know that, and I would be apt to shoot another through the head did he prate as I have done, but twelve hours′ want of food and rest have somewhat weakened me.”

Gervase sprang from his bed, and hastily dressing himself set out his scanty breakfast, for meat and meal had become precious, and he could not afford to waste them. “There is enough for both of us,” he said, “and there is still tobacco for your pipe. The guns are going merrily yonder, and we′ll set ourselves to work as merrily here. We march to the tune of ‘No Surrender.′”

198Macpherson smiled at the young man′s simulated gaiety, and set himself down beside him to their frugal meal. When he had finished, he lighted his pipe and took a more hopeful tone. “I have not yet told you,” he said, “why I came here this morning, but the day is young and we have two good hours before us yet. We had a brave night of it.”

“A raid on the fish-house?” Gervase inquired. “I heard an expedition was forward, but I did not know that you were out. Have you succeeded?”

“In truth,” Macpherson answered, “we came off better than I hoped. But the fish had never been caught that we hoped to catch, and we shot our nets in vain. Having given up hope of Kirke and his ships, the Fourteen thought we might open up communication with Enniskillen, and Walker found a lad who thought he knew the way, and had the heart to make the journey. So having first set the story going that we purposed making a push for the fish-house, we waited until dark, and then pushed off up the river with the purpose of landing the lad outside the enemy′s lines. So there we were in the dark, Murray and myself and some fifteen others of the die-hard sort, holding by the gunwhale, and listening to the Irish mounting their guard and singing their idle songs. It passed very well till we got as far as Evan′s Wood, and then by ill luck the moon must come out and ruin us wholly. They caught sight of us there in the boat pulling hard in mid-stream, and then a great gun sent the shot 199driving past our ears like ducks in winter. They kept up the fire from the shore, but the night was, as you know, dark and stormy, and the moon that had given us so ill a start, went down behind the clouds again. I was strong for turning back, for I saw the lad had lost his spirit, but they must needs hold on as far as Dunnalong, and so we got so far and proposed to land our messenger. But we might as well have been abed, for the great gun had taken away his appetite for the venture, and he would not set a foot on shore. There was nothing for it but to go back the way we came, and put the best face we could on our bootless errand. So we came pulling down stream, never knowing the minute when a round shot would send us to the bottom, when we saw two boats making for us in the gray of the dawn that was now something too clear for safety. They were our old friends the dragoons, and soon the bullets began to fly, and we returned their fire with so much fervour that they kept their distance, like the careful lads they are. Then says Murray, who likes nothing better than a melée, ‘Lay us alongside the rascals, and we′ll treat them to a morning dram;′ and though they would have sheered off when they saw us resolute to close, we even ran up under their stern, and had clambered on board in a twinkling. We made short work of them and threw them overboard with a will. Some of them went to the bottom, and some of them got ashore, but for their boat we brought it with us, and it is even now lying by the quay.”

200“And what became of the other?”

“Oh! they did not like our entertainment and begged to be excused; so they stole off and left us with our prize.”

“It is good news,” said Gervase; “the best we have had for many a day. I would have ventured something to have been of your company.”

“I thought of you, my lad, as we clambered over the gunwhale and gave them the ends of our muskets. But there is still fun in the fair, and I have come for you this morning to join in it. With the boats we purpose paying them a visit yonder by the orchard, and drawing the teeth of the great guns that have been barking somewhat vehemently of late. Baker himself hath asked for you, which is to your credit in a garrison where brave men are not few. I think myself, you have come to handle your sword in a pretty fashion.”

“There is no lack of opportunity to learn,” said Gervase laughing, “but you must not spoil me with praise before I have deserved it.”

The old soldier looked at him with a friendly glance, as he bent down to examine the lock of his pistol. Most men were drawn towards Gervase Orme. His frankness, his courage, and his ready sympathy had no touch of affectation, while his handsome face and stalwart presence had made him many friends; but Macpherson, who had been on terms of intimacy with few for years, had come to look upon him as a father looks on a son. Gervase had found his way to a heart that had long been 201closed to human sympathy, and without knowing it, had brought light to a mind warped and darkened by a narrow and visionary creed. It was not that Macpherson′s character had undergone a change, but during the fortnight he had spent in the farmhouse, a part of his nature had awakened to life which he had been sedulously trying to stifle, and which he had not been able to reconcile with the hard and narrow creed he had adopted.

“Lay down your weapon,” he said, as Gervase with some eagerness was making his preparations to set out, “lay down your weapon, and liste............
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