The Trumpet-Major | Page 4

of the King's doings at his
favourite watering-place were augmented by details from records of the
time. The drilling scene of the local militia received some additions
from an account given in so grave a work as Gifford's 'History of the
Wars of the French Revolution' (London, 1817). But on reference to the
History I find I was mistaken in supposing the account to be advanced
as authentic, or to refer to rural England. However, it does in a large
degree accord with the local traditions of such 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