The Masqueraders Read online

  ‘She’s on the road now, sir, behind me! I must get to my lord.’

  ‘We won’t trouble his lordship,’ said Sir Anthony. ‘This is my affair.’

  John looked doubtful. The large gentleman had a masterful way with him, but John was inclined to trust to no one but my lord. He waited.

  Sir Anthony passed his riding whip absently down the neck of his horse. His eyes looked straight ahead, and they were frowning. After a moment he turned his head, and spoke. ‘Yes, I think we might compass it, John,’ he said placidly. ‘Have you a mind to a fight?’

  John smiled grimly. ‘Try me, sir! You’ll stop the coach?’

  Sir Anthony nodded. ‘I hope so. How many men?’

  ‘Two inside – naught to fear from them. There’s the coachman on the box, and a man with him.’

  ‘Four.’ Sir Anthony was unperturbed. ‘Possibly a pistol in the coach.’

  ‘There’d be one in the holster, maybe. But Miss Prue’s inside and she has all her wits, sir.’ John looked at the large gentleman in some awe. From the first he had felt respect for Sir Anthony, but he had not thought that he would undertake such a lawless venture as this quite so calmly. John was of the opinion that he might well be a good man in a fight, provided his size did not make him slow.

  Sir Anthony came down out of the saddle, and produced his handkerchief. ‘Have you a muffler, my man? Cover your face to the eyes, and pull your hat well over your nose.’

  John loosened the cloth at his neck. ‘There’s enough of it for two, sir. You’d best wear your greatcoat.’ His glance rested expressively on Sir Anthony’s fine cloth coat.

  Sir Anthony was unstrapping it from the saddle. He was handed a half of John’s generous neckcloth, and proceeded to arrange it to cover the lower half of his face. The greatcoat was buttoned up, and the sword-hilt pulled through the placket. ‘I’ve pistols,’ Sir Anthony said, ‘but I don’t want to make this a killing matter. Break yourself a thick stick: it should suffice.’

  ‘Give me one of your barkers, sir. I’ll do as I did when we held up Mr Markham – fire over the coachmen’s heads. It frightens them so they think they’re killed.’

  ‘My dear good man, do you want every cottager running from miles round to see what the noise means? Threaten a shot if you like, but on no account fire. It is understood?’

  ‘Ay, sir,’ said John, abashed. He went off to find a likely cudgel in the little spinney close at hand. Returning presently with a rough stick of ash, he ventured a piece of information. ‘Miss Prue has her sword-stick, sir. I saw to that. They don’t know it, but she does, and she knows how to use it, too.’

  Sir Anthony smiled a little. Ay, she would know, that cool, daring bride of his. He mounted again, and pushed forward to the spinney. ‘We’ll lie in wait here. It’s as lonely a stretch of road as there is. Now attend to me a moment, John. You can do as you’re told?’

  John, reining in under the trees beside the large gentleman, nodded assent. It was in his mind that there were few who would care to refuse to do Sir Anthony’s bidding.

  ‘I am going to take your mistress down to my sister in Hampshire. I shall want the mare for her, but I’ll throw her up before me on the roan until we’re out of sight. We stop as soon as possible to mount her, and I fear me, John, you will have to walk back to Richmond. You’ll tell Mr Robin what I’ve done, and get him out of the place as soon as may be. Let him know I have his sister safe, and be urgent with him to fly.’ He paused; John nodded. ‘As to my chaise: – You’ll send it on to my Lady Enderby’s. I’d best give you a note for my man.’ Out came tablets: Sir Anthony scrawled a few lines, and gave them to John. ‘You are to be understood to have carried a message to me. Naturally I don’t stay with my Lady Lowestoft when Mr Merriot is not there to play host. I’ve told my man that I may break my journey at the house of a friend, a little out of the way, so there will be naught to wonder at when I don’t join my chaise at the stage to-night. It’s clear?’

  ‘Ay, sir.’ John bestowed grudging praise. ‘You’ve a fine head on your shoulders, sir.’

  ‘I don’t aspire to my Lord Barham’s genius, but I believe I have my wits. As for your mistress – why, you may trust her to me. If she has woman’s clothes with her bring them to Dartrey in Hampshire as soon as may be. She’s done with this masquerade.’

  ‘H’m!’ said John. ‘Mistress Prue has a will of her own, sir, I’d make bold to tell you.’

  ‘I know it full well, my man. But I too have a will.’

  John did not doubt this: the large gentleman looked as though he would carry all before him. Well, it was a man worthy of Miss Prudence, and certain, she would come to no harm while she was in his charge. John said no more, but sat still under the trees, awaiting the coming of the coach.

  There was not long to wait. The clip-clop of the horses plodding stolidly along was heard, and the creak and rumble of the coach. Came a scrape of steel beside John: Sir Anthony’s sword was out, and Sir Anthony’s hand was tight on the bridle. John took a good grip on his cudgel, and awaited the word of command.

  ‘Take them in a charge,’ Sir Anthony said, and pulled the muffler up over his mouth.

  The coach rounded the bend in the road; Sir Anthony drove in his heels hard, and the big roan bounded forward, snorting indignantly. The mare, fidgeting all this time, needed no spur to follow suit; together the two horsemen came thundering down upon the staid equipage journeying so placidly along.

  John followed the large gentleman’s lead as best he might, but he had to admit he lacked that consummate horsemanship. Ahead of the chestnut mare a few paces Sir Anthony came down the centre of the road in a cloud of dust. It seemed as though he must crash full into the horses drawing the coach. So at least the coachman thought. This unfortunate individual had a sudden vision of two horsemen bearing down upon him at a mad, runaway pace, and instinctively dragged his own startled horses up, and tried to get to the side of the road. On and on came the first horseman, nearer, and perilously nearer. Then, even as the frightened men on the box thought collision inevitable, the roan, held so far on a straight course by an iron hand and an insistent knee, swerved off to the right, and was forced back almost upon his haunches, and held rigidly.

  The coach horses were plunging in fright; the coachman had all he could do to hold them. Seeing Sir Anthony swing to the right of the coach, John, all the time on his heels, wrenched the mare to the left. Sir Anthony’s sword flourished horribly near the men on the box; instinctively the one nearest to it shrank from it, throwing himself sideways against his companion, who lurched, still pulling at his reins, towards John.

  The vicious tug brought one of the horses up on its hind legs; confusion reigned between the traces; John brought the nervous mare in close, rose in his stirrups, and struck hard and true. The coachman crumpled where he sat, and came sliding to the floor of the box; his companion caught desperately at the loose rein as the horses plunged forward. The animal that had reared up became entangled in one of the traces, and the confusion was complete.

  Inside the coach Prudence’s two gaolers were taken entirely by surprise. Such an unheard of thing as an attack on a vehicle of the Law, in daylight, and only a few miles out of town did not occur to them as a reason for this sudden stop and commotion.

  The apologetic man opposite Prudence, who had abstained carefully from looking at her till now, brought his eyes round to her, and said with inspiration: ‘Ah! We’ve gone over a pig. That’ll be it.’

  Prudence said nothing at all, but her hand slid to that innocent-looking cane beside her, and closed round its head. She still leaned back in her corner, and there was nothing either in her pose or in her expression to tell her captors that every nerve and muscle in her body was taut and ready.

  ‘That’s no pig, Matthew!’ said the leader of the two. ‘We’ve run into another coach belike.’ He got up