The Splendid Spur: Being Memoirs of the Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, a Servant of His Late Majesty King Charles I, in the Years 1642-3Quiller-Couch, Arthur
History
The Splendid Spur: Being Memoirs of the Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, a Servant of His Late Majesty King Charles I, in the Years 1642-3
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction
“You have money about you, doubtless,” growled the man curtly, and in a
voice that made me start. For by his voice and figure in the dusk I knew
him for Captain Settle: and in the sorrel with the high white stocking
I recognized the mare, Molly, that poor Anthony Killigrew had given me
almost with his last breath.
The bully did not know me, having but seen me for an instant at “The
Crown,” and then in very different attire.
“I have but a few poor coins,” I answer’d.
“Then hand ’em over.”
“Be shot if I do!” said I in a passion; and pulling out a handful from
my pocket, I dash’d them down in the road.
For a moment the Captain took his pistol from my face, and stooped to
clutch at the golden coins as they trickled and ran to right and
left. The next, I had struck out with my right fist, and down he went
staggering. His pistol dropped out of his hand and exploded between
my feet. I rush’d to Molly, caught her bridle, and leap’d on her back.
’Twas a near thing, for the Captain was rushing toward us. But at the
call of my voice the mare gave a bound and turn’d: and down the road I
was borne, light as a feather.
A bullet whizz’d past my ear: I heard the Captain’s curse mingle with
the report: and then was out of range, and galloping through the dusk.
CHAPTER V.
MY ADVENTURE AT THE “THREE CUPS.”
Secure of pursuit, and full of delight in the mare’s easy motion, I must
have travelled a good six miles before the moon rose. In the frosty
sky her rays sparkled cheerfully, and by them I saw on the holsters the
silver demi-bear that I knew to be the crest of the Killigrews, having
the fellow to it engraved on my sword-hilt. So now I was certain ’twas
Molly that I bestrode: and took occasion of the light to explore the
holsters and saddle flap.
Poor Anthony’s pistols were gone—filched, no doubt, by the Captain:
but you may guess my satisfaction, when on thrusting my hand deeper, I
touched a heap of coins, and found them to be gold.
’Twas certainly a rare bargain I had driven with Captain Settle. For
the five or six gold pieces I scatter’d on the road, I had won close
on thirty guineas, as I counted in the moonlight; not to speak of this
incomparable Molly. And I began to whistle gleefully, and taste the joke
over again and laugh to myself, as we cantered along with the north wind
at our backs.
All the same, I had no relish for riding thus till morning. For the
night was chill enough to search my very bones after the heat of the
late gallop: and, moreover, I knew nothing of the road, which at this
hour was quite deserted. So that, coming at length to a tall hill with a
black ridge of pine wood standing up against the moon like a fish’s fin,
I was glad enough to note below it, and at some distance from the trees,
a window brightly lit; and pushed forward in hope of entertainment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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