Micah Clarke: His Statement as made to his three grandchildren Joseph, Gervas and Reuben During the Hard Winter of 1734Doyle, Arthur Conan
History
Micah Clarke: His Statement as made to his three grandchildren Joseph, Gervas and Reuben During the Hard Winter of 1734
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Grandparent and child -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
Saxon and I shot a sharp glance of surprise at each other at this
speech, which showed that our words of the night before were not unknown
to him. Sir Jacob, however, showed no signs of anger, but proceeded to
point out our road and to advise us as to our journey.
‘You must follow this sheep-track until you come on another and broader
pathway which makes for the West,’ said he. ‘It is little used, and
there is small chance of your falling in with any of your enemies upon
it. This path will lead you between the villages of Fovant and Hindon,
and soon to Mere, which is no great distance from Bruton, upon the
Somersetshire border.’
Thanking our venerable host for his great kindness towards us we gave
rein to our horses, and left him once more to the strange solitary
existence in which we had found him. So artfully had the site of
his cottage been chosen, that when we looked back to give him a last
greeting both he and his dwelling had disappeared already from our view,
nor could we, among the many mounds and hollows, determine where the
cottage lay which had given us such welcome shelter. In front of us and
on either side the great uneven dun-coloured plain stretched away to the
horizon, without a break in its barren gorse-covered surface. Over the
whole expanse there was no sign of life, save for an occasional rabbit
which whisked into its burrow on hearing our approach, or a few thin and
hungry sheep, who could scarce sustain life by feeding on the coarse and
wiry grass which sprang from the unfruitful soil.
The pathway was so narrow that only one of us could ride upon it at a
time, but we presently abandoned it altogether, using it simply as a
guide, and galloping along side by side over the rolling plain. We were
all silent, Reuben meditating upon his new corslet, as I could see from
his frequent glances at it; while Saxon, with his eyes half closed, was
brooding over some matter of his own. For my own part, my thoughts ran
upon the ignominy of the old soldier’s designs upon the gold chest, and
the additional shame which rose from the knowledge that our host had in
some way divined his intention. No good could come of an alliance with a
man so devoid of all feelings of honour or of gratitude. So strongly did
I feel upon it that I at last broke the silence by pointing to a
cross path, which turned away from the one which we were pursuing, and
recommending him to follow it, since he had proved that he was no fit
company for honest men.
‘By the living rood!’ he cried, laying his hand upon the hilt of his
rapier,’ have you taken leave of your senses? These are words such as no
honourable cavaliero can abide.’
‘They are none the less words of truth,’ I answered.
His blade flashed out in an instant, while his mare bounded twice her
length under the sharp dig of his spurs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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