Stories by English Authors: England | Page 8

their big hats and executing clumsy scrapings with their feet
while bowing in mock fashion to the two nervous widows, who sat in
one corner regarding them askance: the leader of these lawless ones
dropped his cloak from his shoulders, left it trailing on the pantile floor,
and made a rapid signal with his hand to Sophie to pause an instant
before she entered the room.
"Treat them with fair words, and not too much strong waters," he said,
quickly; "we have a long ride before us."
He said it like a warning, and Sophie nodded as though she took his
advice and was not ungrateful for it. Then they both went into the
parlour and joined the company; and the maid-servant, becoming used
to the position or making the best of it, began to bustle about and wait
upon their visitors, who had already drawn up their seats to the
supper-table, which had been spread with good things two hours ago
anticipative of the return Reuben Pemberthy to Maythorpe.

It was an odd supper-party at which Sophie Tarne presided, the
highwaymen insisting, with much clamour and some emphatic oaths,
that they would have no old women like Mrs. Tarne and Mrs.
Pemberthy at the head of the table. Sophie was a pretty wench, and so
must do the honours of the feast.
"The young girl's health, gentlemen, with three times three, and may
her husband be a match for her in good looks," cried one admiring
knight of the road; and then the toast was drunk. The ale flowed freely,
and there was much laughter and loud jesting.
The man whom they called "Guy" and "Captain" sat by Sophie's side.
He ate very little, and kept a watchful eye upon his men after Stango
and his companion had come in from the stable and completed the
number. He exchanged at first but few words with Sophie, though he
surveyed her with a grave attention that brought the colour to her
cheeks. He was a man upon guard. Presently he said:
"You bear your position well. You are not alarmed at these wild
fellows?"
"No--not now. I don't think they would hurt me. Besides--"
"Besides--what? "he asked, as she paused.
"I have your word for them."
"Yes," he answered; "but it is only a highwayman's word."
"I can trust it."
"These men can be demons when they like, Mistress Pemberthy."
Sophie did not think it worth while to inform the gentleman that her
name was not Pemberthy; it could not possibly matter to him, and there
was a difficulty in explaining the relationship she bore to the family.
"Why are you with such men as these?" she asked, wonderingly.

"Where should I be? Where can I be else?" he asked, lightly now; but it
was with a forced lightness of demeanour, or Sophie Tarne was very
much deceived.
"Helping your king, not warring against him and his laws," said Sophie,
very quickly.
"I owe no allegiance to King George. I have always been a
ne'er-do-well, despised and scouted by a hard father and a villainous
brother or two, and life with these good fellows here is, after all, to my
mind. There's independence in it, and I prefer to be independent; and
danger, and I like danger. A wronged man wrongs others in his turn,
mistress; and it is my turn now."
"Two wrongs cannot make a right."
"Oh, I do not attempt the impossible, Mistress Pemberthy."
"What will be the end of this--to you?"
"The gallows--if I cannot get my pistol out in time."
He laughed lightly and naturally enough as Sophie shrank in terror
from him. One could see he was a desperate man enough, despite his
better manners; probably as great an outcast as the rest of them, and as
little to be trusted.
"That is a dreadful end to look forward to," she said.
"I don't look forward. What is the use--when that is the prospect?"
"Your father--your brothers--"
"Would be glad that the end came soon," he concluded. "They are
waiting for it patiently. They have prophesied it for the last five years."
"They know then?"
"Oh yes; I have taken care that they should know," he answered,

laughing defiantly again.
"And your mother--does she know?"
He paused, and looked at her very hard.
"God forbid."
"She is--"
"She is in heaven, where nothing is known of what goes on upon
earth."
"How can you tell that?"
"There would be no peace in heaven otherwise, Mistress Pemberthy;
only great grief, intense shame, misery, despair, madness, at the true
knowledge of us all," he said, passionately. "On earth we men are
hypocrites and liars, devils and slaves."
"Not all men," said Sophie, thinking of Reu Pemberthy.
"I have met none other. Perhaps I have sought none other--all my own