The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and EugeneStrang, Herbert
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The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene
Strang, Herbert
Blenheim, Battle of, Blindheim, Bavaria, Germany, 1704 -- Juvenile fiction
"Egad! ’tis a rare flam. Frank, this fellow here did it all, shouted
for a dozen; by George, ’twas a mighty neat trick! And, by George, I
know your face; I saw you yesterday, I believe! What’s your name, man?"
"Sherebiah Stand-up-and-bless Minshull, my lord," said Sherry, "by the
water o’ baptism, your honour, for I was born while old Rowley were in
furren parts. If a’d been born two year arter, my lord, I med ha’ been
chrisomed wi’ less piety."
"I remember you, and the old gaffer your father—a fine old fellow.
Well, my man, your name suits me better; ’tis for us to stand up and
bless, eh, Frank? And here’s a guinea for you."
Sherebiah put his hands behind him and looked down at the coin in my
lord’s hand.
"Nay, nay, my lord," he said slowly. "True, I did the shouten, or most
on’t, but ’twas Master Harry his notion. Pa’son’s son, you see, my lord;
know’d all the holy story o’ Gideon; says to me, ’Sherry,’ says he,
’shout high and low, bass and tribble, give it tongue,’ says he; and I
gi’d it tongue, so I did."
Both gentlemen laughed heartily.
"I recognize you now," said my lord, turning to Harry, who looked
somewhat embarrassed. "Surely you are the hero of yesterday’s cricket
match? You swing a straight bat, my lad, and, stap me! you’ve a quick
wit if you devised this late surprise. How came you on the scene?"
"We’d been fishing yonder, my lord, and I chanced to spy your carriage
and the villains waiting here, almost at the same time. It was clear
what they were about, and as there was no time to warn you we came along
the stream, and—Sherry shouted."
His smile as he said the last words met an answering smile on Lord
Godolphin’s face.
"A mighty clever trick indeed—eh, Frank? We’re beholden to you. ’Twas
a mere chance that I sent my mounted escort on ahead by the highway to
arrange a change of horses, never thinking to be waylaid at this time o’
day."
"Ay, ’twas the Queen’s purse, my lord," struck in Sherebiah. "To know
Queen’s purse-bearer were a-comen along old road like a common mortal,
’twere too much for poor weak flesh and blood."
"The ignorant bumpkins mistook your meaning," said Frank.
"So it appears. But come, you’re the parson’s son, I believe. I forget
your name?"
"Harry Rochester, my lord."
"Going to be a parson yourself, eh?"
"I am going up to Oxford in October, my lord; my father wishes me to
take orders."
"Ah! And your own wish, eh?"
Harry hesitated.
"Come, out with it, my lad."
"I had thought, my lord, I should like to carry the Queen’s colours; but
’tis a vain thought; my father’s living is small, and——"
"And commissions in the Queen’s army sell high. ’Tis so, indeed. Well,
I heard something of your father last night at Sir Godfrey’s; you can’t
do better than follow his example. And hark ’ee, if ever you want a
friend, when you’ve taken your degrees, you know, come and see me; I owe
you a good turn, my lad; and maybe I’ll have a country vicarage at my
disposal."
"Thank you, my lord!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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