Beau Brocade | Page 5

towards the forge.
"Hist!" said John, in a rapid whisper, pointing to the fire, "the bellows!
quick!"
The young man too had started in obvious alarm. His ear--the ear of a
fugitive, trained to every sound that betokened danger--was as alert as
that of the smith. With a sudden effort he pulled himself together, and
quickly seized the heavy bellows with a will. He forced his eyes to
glance carelessly at the door and his lips to whistle a lively country
tune.
The Corporal paused a moment at the entrance, taking a quick survey
of the interior of the forge, his men at attention behind him.

"In the King's name!" he said loudly, as he unfolded the Proclamation
of His Majesty's Parliament.
His orders were to read it in every hamlet and every homestead in the
district; John Stich, the blacksmith, was an important personage all
around Brassing Moor, and he had not heard it read from beneath the
old gallows at the cross-roads just now.
"Well, Corporal," said the worthy smith, quietly, as he put down his
hammer out of respect for the King's name. "Well, and what does His
Majesty, King George II., desire with John Stich, the blacksmith, eh?"
"Not with you alone, John Stich," replied the Corporal. "This is an Act
of Parliament and concerns all loyal subjects of the King. Who be yon
lad?" he asked, carelessly nodding towards the young man at the
bellows.
"My nephew Jim, out o' Nottingham," replied John Stich, quietly, "my
sister Hannah's child. You recollect her, Corporal? She was in service
with my Lord Exeter up at Derby."
"Oh, aye! Mistress Hannah Stich, to be sure! I didn't know she had such
a fine lad of her own," commented the Corporal, as the young man
straightened his tall figure and looked him fearlessly in the face.
"Lads grow up fast enough, don't they, Corporal?" laughed honest Stich,
pleasantly; "but come, let's hear His Majesty's Proclamation since
you've got to read it. But you see I'm very busy and..."
"Nay, 'tis my duty, John Stich, 'in every homestead in Derbyshire' 'tis to
be read, so says this Act of Parliament. You might have saved this
trouble had you come down to the cross-roads just now."
"I was busy," remarked John Stich, drily, and the Corporal began to
read:--
"It having come to the knowledge of His Majesty's Parliament that
certain subjects of the King have lately raised the standard of rebellion,

setting up the Pretender, Charles Edward Stuart, above the King's most
lawful Majesty, it is hereby enacted that these persons are guilty of
high treason and by the laws of the kingdom are condemned to death. It
is further enacted that it is unlawful for any loyal subject of the King to
shelter or harbour, clothe or feed any such persons who are vile traitors
and rebels to their King and country: and that any subject of His
Majesty who kills such a traitor or rebel doth thereby commit and act of
justice and loyalty, for which he may be rewarded by the sum of twenty
guineas."
There was a pause when the Corporal had finished reading. John Stich
was leaning upon his hammer, the young man once more busied
himself with the bellows. Outside, the clearing shower of September
rain began pattering upon the thatched roof of the forge.
"Well," said John Stich at last, as the Corporal put the heavy parchment
away in his wallet. "Well, and are you going to tell us who are those
persons, Corporal, whom our village lads are told to murder by Act of
Parliament? How shall we know a rebel... and shoot him... when we see
one?"
"There were forty persons down on the list a few weeks ago, persons
who were known to be in hiding in Derbyshire," said the young soldier,
"but..."
"Well, what's your 'but,' Corporal? There were forty persons whom
'twas lawful to murder a few weeks ago....What of them?"
"They have been caught and hanged, most of them," replied the soldier,
quietly.
"Jim, lad, mind that fire," commented John Stich, turning to his
"nephew out o' Nottingham," for the latter was staring with glowing
eyes and quivering lips at the Corporal, who, not noticing him,
continued carelessly,--
"There was Lord Lovat now, you must have heard of him, John Stich,
he was beheaded a few days ago, and so was Lord Kilmarnock... and

they were lords, you see, and had a headsman all to themselves on
Tower Hill, that's up in London: some lesser folk have been hanged,
and now there are only three rebels at large, and there are twenty
guineas waiting for anyone who will bring the head of one of them to
the nearest magistrate."
The smith grunted. "Well, and who are they?" he asked roughly.