The Trumpet-Major | Page 4

scenes that I have heard recounted, times without number, and the system of drill was tested by reference to the Army Regulations of 1801, and other military handbooks. Almost the whole narrative of the supposed landing of the French in the Bay is from oral relation as aforesaid. Other proofs of the veracity of this chronicle have escaped my recollection.
T. H.
OCTOBER 1895.

CONTENTS
I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DOWN II. SOMEBODY KNOCKS AND COMES IN III. THE MILL BECOMES AN IMPORTANT CENTRE OF OPERATIONS IV. WHO WERE PRESENT AT THE MILLER'S LITTLE ENTERTAINMENT V. THE SONG AND THE STRANGER VI. OLD MR. DERRIMAN OF OXWELL HALL VII. HOW THEY TALKED IN THE PASTURES VIII. ANNE MAKES A CIRCUIT OF THE CAMP IX. ANNE IS KINDLY FETCHED BY THE TRUMPET MAJOR X. THE MATCH-MAKING VIRTUES OF A DOUBLE GARDEN XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY XII. HOW EVERYBODY, GREAT AND SMALL, CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE DOWNS XIII. THE CONVERSATION IN THE CROWD XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY XV. 'CAPTAIN' BOB LOVEDAY, OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE XVI. THEY MAKE READY FOR THE ILLUSTRIOUS STRANGER XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT XVIII. THE NIGHT AFTER THE ARRIVAL XIX. MISS JOHNSON'S BEHAVIOUR CAUSES NO LITTLE SURPRISE XX. HOW THEY LESSENED THE EFFECT OF THE CALAMITY XXI. 'UPON THE HILL HE TURNED' XXII. THE TWO HOUSEHOLDS UNITED XXIII. MILITARY PREPARATIONS ON AN EXTENDED SCALE XXIV. A LETTER, A VISITOR, AND A TIN BOX XXV. FESTUS SHOWS HIS LOVE XXVI. THE ALARM XXVII. DANGER TO ANNE XXVIII. ANNIE DOES WONDERS XXIX. A DISSEMBLER XXX. AT THE THEATRE ROYAL XXXI. MIDNIGHT VISITORS XXXII. DELIVERANCE XXXIII. A DISCOVERY TURNS THE SCALE XXXIV. A SPECK ON THE SEA XXXV. A SAILOR ENTERS XXXVI. DERRIMAN SEES CHANCES XXXVII. REACTION XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION XXXIX. BOB LOVEDAY STRUTS UP AND DOWN XL. A CALL ON BUSINESS XLI. JOHN MARCHES INTO THE NIGHT

I. WHAT WAS SEEN FROM THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE DOWN
In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the vast amount of soldiering going on in the country was a cause of much trembling to the sex, there lived in a village near the Wessex coast two ladies of good report, though unfortunately of limited means. The elder was a Mrs. Martha Garland, a landscape-painter's widow, and the other was her only daughter Anne.
Anne was fair, very fair, in a poetical sense; but in complexion she was of that particular tint between blonde and brunette which is inconveniently left without a name. Her eyes were honest and inquiring, her mouth cleanly cut and yet not classical, the middle point of her upper lip scarcely descending so far as it should have done by rights, so that at the merest pleasant thought, not to mention a smile, portions of two or three white teeth were uncovered whether she would or not. Some people said that this was very attractive. She was graceful and slender, and, though but little above five feet in height, could draw herself up to look tall. In her manner, in her comings and goings, in her 'I'll do this,' or 'I'll do that,' she combined dignity with sweetness as no other girl could do; and any impressionable stranger youths who passed by were led to yearn for a windfall of speech from her, and to see at the same time that they would not get it. In short, beneath all that was charming and simple in this young woman there lurked a real firmness, unperceived at first, as the speck of colour lurks unperceived in the heart of the palest parsley flower.
She wore a white handkerchief to cover her white neck, and a cap on her head with a pink ribbon round it, tied in a bow at the front. She had a great variety of these cap-ribbons, the young men being fond of sending them to her as presents until they fell definitely in love with a special sweetheart elsewhere, when they left off doing so. Between the border of her cap and her forehead were ranged a row of round brown curls, like swallows' nests under eaves.
She lived with her widowed mother in a portion of an ancient building formerly a manor-house, but now a mill, which, being too large for his own requirements, the miller had found it convenient to divide and appropriate in part to these highly respectable tenants. In this dwelling Mrs. Garland's and Anne's ears were soothed morning, noon, and night by the music of the mill, the wheels and cogs of which, being of wood, produced notes that might have borne in their minds a remote resemblance to the wooden tones of the stopped diapason in an organ. Occasionally, when the miller was bolting, there was added