With that I left them, and turned to climb the hill which rose sharply
on our right, its side dotted with furze-bushes, and its crest hidden
by a clump of trees.
Five minutes later I was back among them again.
"Well," said Daphne eagerly, "you haven't been right to the top, have
you?"
"Oh, no. I only came back to say that when I said 'Age before honesty'
just now, I really meant 'Death before dishonour,' you know," and I
turned up the bank again.
I regret to say that Berry and Jonah thought it decent to attempt to
stone my retreating figure. Ten minutes' walking brought me to a
clearing on the top, which afforded a magnificent view. Hill and dale,
woodland and pasture, stone wall and hedgerow, as far as I could see.
The sinking sun was lighting gloriously the autumn livery of the woods,
and, far in the distance, I could see the silver streak of the river
flowing to the village on whose skirts stood the house that was our
bourne. When I returned to the camp to find them gone I was rather
bored.
The note that they had left made it worse:
"Regret compelled retire owing to serious outflanking movement on part
of the Blues. Sorry, but that's the worst of being picket. The
natural intuition which characterizes all BSS will enable you to
discern our route. So long."
Although I tried four times--mainly because Jonah had my
matches--I was unable to discern their route. At last I came down to
shouting, but only succeeded in arousing the curiosity of three cows
and a well-nourished ram. The latter was so well nourished that when
he had stamped for the second time, I thought it prudent to get over
the wall. I did so with about four seconds to spare. Nothing daunted,
the winning animal took a short run and butted the wall with surprising
vigour. When three large stones had fallen for seven runs, I offered
up a short prayer that Berry & Co. might return to look for me, and
hastened to put two more walls between us. I suppose it was the river
that I saw in the distance, from the summit of that fair hill...
Three and a half hours later I came upon the first signs of animal life
as opposed to vegetable--since the ram. Up hill, down dale, along
roads, along imitation roads, along future roads, along past roads,
across moors I had tramped doggedly, blindly, and rather angrily. If I
had had one match--only one match--it would have been different.
Yes, it was a dog-cart. And through the gloom I could distinctly see
the shape of some one sitting in it, holding the reins.
I quickened my steps.
"I say, have you got a match?"
A girl's voice.
"That's about the worst thing you could have said." said I.
"Why?"
"Because a match is the one thing I've been wanting for the last four
hours."
"Sorry. Swear for me, will you?"
"Certainly, madam. What sort of an oath would you like? We have a very
large assortment in stock--fresh lot in only this afternoon. Let me
see. Now, I've got a very nice thing in oaths--"
"I want a round one."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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