The Mayor of Troy

to the moment when Captain Arbuthnot's Dragoons

ther fell back with the rest of the crowd nor foolhardily resisted an enemy whose strength could not yet be measured: but leaping aside, and by great good luck finding foothold on the rocks to his left, he wriggled over the low ledge of the cliff and thence- now clutching a

the gleam of a hundred tossing sabres-all these told their own tale to Gunner Sobey. He arose and ran again; nor drew breath until he had gained the top o

ot cowardice, but an overmastering desire to reach home with all speed. Let

ay, the enemy should momentarily break through our coast defence and effect an actual footing. The main body of the Gallants would then, converting itsel

would round up and d

sist the escape of th

and carry off provisions,

set fire to the cor

llages, and make all possible preparations for blowing up the bridges and ot

, or how, having gained it, they were to be dislodged. Once satisfied of their arrival, he left them, as his soldierly training enjoined, severely alone. Deplorable as he might deem the occurrence, it had happened; and ipso facto, it consigned hi

me, he was aware of a dark object on the brink above him; which at f

enly in the darkness, and at so hopeless a disadvan

voo?" he

prised at nothing, and this one, which had been

bey, still slightly unhinged. "The fact

ed to Gunner Sobey to be breathing hard

nner Sobey, and having clambered the

d as Gunner Sobey stared a white blaze on the a

r? And if so-and I'll be sworn to you, seein' you close-

ss here, why here then (it was reasonable to surmise) he also pastured the old mare, Pleasant: and if Pleasant b

thout pausing to reflect that the French might hear him, h

beast's ears go up and its head slew round towards the ridge. Doubtless it had caught the distant echo of hoofs; for half a minute later a low wh

hand and fondling first her nose, then her ears. He could have thrown b

not, this good fortune

loquence than I, its narrator, might have made a fortune by reporting. For once Gunner Sobey's readiness failed him, under emotion too deep for words. He laid a hand on the mare's withers and

ick on, my dear, if you'l

nfirm limbs and heade

e road for the Little Ferry, still down hill by Lanteglos Vicarage, by Ring of Bells, to the ford of Watergate in the valley bottom, where now a bridge stands; but in those days the foot-passengers crossed by a plank and a hand-rail. Splashing through the ford and choosing unguided the road which bore away to the right from the silent smithy, and steeply uphill to Whiddycross Common, she took it gamely though with fast failing breath. She had been foaled in Troy parish, and marvellously she was proving, after thirty years (her age was no less), the mettle of her ancient pasture. While he owned her, Gunner Sobey-who in extra-military hours traded as a carrier and haulier between Troy and the market-towns to the westward-had worked her late and fed her lean; but the most of us behold our receding youth through a mist of romanc

tter of hoofs, and tumbled out to unchain his boat; a trifli

of the gunner's regimentals. "I allowed you'd be a messeng

y, and waved an arm. "Man, the French

on the slip and ran two trembli

ne. There's Hosken's blue boat; you'll find her moored of

ner Sobey. "I wish now I'd waited

good night, soce. I'm of

slip-way and rubbed her muzzle against his sleeve, dumbly beseeching him to fetch the horse-boat that s

he town was deserted, Cai Ta

, he lit his study fire, set the kettle upon it, and having mixed himself a bowl of brandy-punch (in the concoction of which all Troy acknowledged him to be an expert), drew his arm-chair close to the genial blaze, and sat alternately sipping his brew and co

ing and reassuring himself that the armour of his proof was

nd his course of habit to sleep upright in an arm-chair. A vague trouble haunted them; or, rather, a presentiment of trouble. It grew and grew; and almost as it became intolerable, a bell seemed to clang in his ears, and he started up, awake, gripping h

, it seemed, of voices, yet not of human voices; a moaning, and yet not quite a moaning, but rather what the French would call a m

rchyard; and the churchyard was filled-packed-with cattle! Oxen and cows, steers, heifers, and young calves; at least thirty score were gathered there, a few hardier phlegmatic bea

he ran to the passage, caught his hat down

he herd beyond his garden railing, he saw that through this avenue he could not hope to force a passage; it was crowde

re ran a narrow cobbled lane known as Pease Alley (i.e., pis aller, the Vicar was wont to explain humorously). Through

creaking of the gate the nearest brutes retreated, pressing back against their fellow

sically, answering the appeal in their frightened, liquid eyes, "it's

leeping cottage, and hailed its occupants by name. No one answered. Only, on the other side of the alley, a few of t

ore giving egress upon the street, the Vicar lifted his head and sniffed the morning air. Surely his nose det

above the church. The rooks, too, up there

lley here, and along it rushed and foamed a dark copper-coloured flood which, in an instant,

whole house swam with beer, but not with beer only; for when, no inmate answering his call, he followed the torrent up through yet another doorway and found himself in the inn cellar, in the d

blame to him, I say! Without a thought of turning off the taps, he waded ba

struck the hour of five. He gazed up at it stupidly, saw the smoke drifting through the elm-tops beyond, heard

keys? How? Why, by the little door at the east end of the south aisle, which stood ajar. Across the alley he could see it, and that it stood ajar; and mor

doorway into the aisle, shouting a challenge. A groan from the belfry answered him, and there, in the dim light, he

ng broken into the belfry and laid hands on the first bell-rope (which happened to be that of the ten

r peered at him, stoo

bey. "I'll never be

t has ha

d off the bell-rope. You

yes; b

e away wearily and continued to rub his hurt. "I didn't know till

ke! What's the meaning of all these cattle outside, and the

r Sobey drowsily. "Single-handed

e that all this ha

I've run it out of every public-house in the town; that was Detachment D's work. And the hayricks; properly speakin', they belonged to Detachment E, and I hadn' time to fire more than Farmer Coad's on

Fre

urderin' as they come! And the Troy lads be cut down like a swathe o' grass; and I, only I, escaped to c

"The French? The French?" he kept rep

walk with any degree of comfort, an' that's a fact. And next you'd turn to an' drive off the cattle inland, an' give warning as you go. 'Tis a que