A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
Presently after I had thus resolved, I came unawares out of the
trackless ground upon a beaten path, which methought led in the
direction of my course. To follow this path stood me in some danger of
meeting my foes; yet I should make speedier progress upon it, and have
my eyes for scanning the country instead of for taking heed of bogs or
pitfalls. Therefore I cast away all scruples of timidity and struck
with assured gait into the path.
’Twas not long before I repented of my temerity. On a sudden I heard a
patter of feet before me, and ere I could slip aside for hiding there
came into my sight, round a bend in the path, a man of lofty stature,
running as for a prize. At one and the same instant we halted upon our
feet, the runner and I, being divided by no more than thirty paces. I
had but just perceived by his garb that the man was an Irishman when he
leapt from the path down a shelving grassy bank at his right hand, and
bounded like a hunted stag towards a clump of woodland no great distance
away.
Bethinking me in a flash that every Irishman hereabout was an enemy, and
that this man, were he to escape, might fetch a horde of his wild
fellows upon my track, I sprang after him, in my soul doubting whether
with my utmost endeavour I could overtake him. For some little time the
man outsped me, but coming to the skirts of the woodland he suddenly
stumbled, sought desperately to recover his footing, and then sank upon
the ground. Gathering my speed, in four leaps I was upon him, and
closed with him, expecting that he would strive with me for the mastery;
but he lay limp and lumpish in my hands, his eyes beseeching mercy. So
stout of frame he was, I was no little amazed at my easy victory, until
I saw by his laboured breathing, the quivering of his nostrils, and the
pallor of his cheeks, that he was utterly spent. This put me in a
quandary. I had a mind to leave him and go my way; but in a moment I
saw that I might perchance make some profit of him. Taking a portion of
the cord about my bundle, I bound his hands behind him, and when the
heaving of his naked breast was somewhat stilled, I bade him arise and
lead me to the English camp, fearing the while lest he should be of the
wild barbarians that knew no tongue but their own. But at my words he
looked me in the face, and told me that the English were many miles
away, marching northward.
[Illustration: GATHERING MY SPEED, IN FOUR LEAPS I WAS UPON HIM]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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