The Yeoman Adventurer Part 44

"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone.

"It wasna necessary," she said airily.

"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amused by the dialogue.

"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not the advantage of knowing Master Wheatman."

He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on, "I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from the gentry of his s.h.i.+re."

It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentried me in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack in my coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himself singularly graceful.

There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Prince with one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formal pairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was coming for Margaret, and thus left her to me.

She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked at me, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, Sir Kiss-the-ghost!"

"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly.

She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly, "Sensible ghost!"

CHAPTER XXI

MASTER FREAKE KNOWS AT LAST

Dinner was a success from the Prince's point of view. The Duke was completely won over to the idea of our going on, and even the Lord Ogilvie at one time wavered before the Prince's onslaught. The Irishmen were strongly in favour of it, and Mr. Secretary, when thawed by wine, grew expansive over its advantages. I incline to think that the rascal had ratted already, and was anxious to get all he could out of the Government by leading the Prince into a trap. Trap it would have been, as Culloden plainly showed. Against English regular soldiers, resolutely led, the Highlanders would work no more miracles.

So for a s.p.a.ce the chatter and laughter went on. Charles was already in St. James's, and the ladies were already queening it in the new Court over the renegade beauties of the old one. Even Margaret caught some of the enthusiasm, so that I whispered to her, "You beat our Kate at counting your unhatched chickens."

Whereat she sobered all of a sudden, and whispered, "Maybe you are right, Oliver!"

"I hope for your sake they are true prophets," I said. "I should dearly like to see you a marchioness before I go back to my farming."

"That's one of the chickens I've not counted," she said.

She looked at me very steadily, and then turned and plunged into the stream of conversation flowing around her.

Her father had steered clear of all awkward topics, taking for granted that we were going on. Charles got less cautious as he got surer, and moreover, as I could not but observe, he was mellowing somewhat under the brandy he was drinking. Princes commonly have no judgment of men, having never the need of noting their humours in order to mould them to their will. So now Charles bluntly attacked the Colonel again on the military aspect of the situation, which was merely b.u.t.ting against a stone wall.

"You must remember, Colonel," he said, "that my Highlanders have driven the English soldiery before them like sheep. They wiped out an army of them at Gladsmuir in less than fifteen minutes, and only lost thirty men killed in doing it."

"Sir," said the Colonel, "give me one thousand English soldiers for a week and I'll pit them against any thousand Highlanders you like to bring against 'em."

"Then it's a good job you're on my side," said Charles.

"It is indeed, sir," said the Colonel, very quietly, "and under favour, sir, you will be well advised to have your troops exercised in the best ways of charging men who don't mean to run from them. There's no military science wanted to beat men who run away from you as soon as you attack. As I understand it, your Highlander fires his piece from a good distance, throws it away, and then rushes to the attack. If the enemy stands, he catches the bayonet of the man in front of him in his leather s.h.i.+eld, where it sticks, and so has him at mercy, and through you go like a knife through a cheese."

"That's just how it's done, Colonel," said Charles merrily.

"Well, sir, that's just how it wouldn't be done if I was in command against you."

There was neither eating nor drinking going on now, except that the Prince poured out his third gla.s.s of brandy. Everybody was intent on the dialogue. Ogilvie, his hand clasping his wife's under the skirt of the napery, looked so intently at the Colonel that his face was like a figure in a Euclid book.

"How would you stop it, sir?"

It was Mr. Secretary who spoke, for Charles was sipping at his brandy.

"We're all friends here?" said the Colonel brusquely.

"All loyal to the last drop of our blood," replied Mr. Secretary fervently.

"I dare say," was the Colonel's dry comment, "but it's much more important at times to be loyal to the last wag of your tongue."

"Then I only answer, as in the presence of G.o.d, for myself," said he piously.

"Leaving G.o.d to look after Mr. Secretary," said Charles, banging his empty gla.s.s on the table. "I'll answer for the rest. So get on with your plan, Colonel."

"His Royal Highness has selected the easier task," whispered Margaret in my ear.

"Well, sir," began the Colonel, "I should say to my men: 'When the Highlanders charge, take no notice of the man who is coming straight at you. Keep your eye on his left-hand man, who is coming at your right-hand man. Don't fire at him till you can see the whites of his eyes, and if you don't bring him down with the bullet, have at him and thrust your bayonet into his right ribs. There's no buckler there, and his right arm will be up to strike. The man coming at you will be attended to in the same way by your left-hand man.' After a week's practice in that little trick, sir, I should face any charge your Highlanders liked to make, and would bet a thousand guineas to this pinch of rappee--poor stuff as it is--on stopping 'em dead in their tracks."

"By gad! and so you would, sir!" said my Lord Ogilvie explosively.

"It sounds feasible," said old Sir Thomas, "but fortunately Colonel Waynflete is with us, and can teach us new tricks."

"Of course he can," said Charles. "What do you say, Master Wheatman? You know him."

"That old poachers make the best gamekeepers, sir," I answered.

"_Nom de chien_," cried the Colonel, twirling fiercely round on me.

Margaret, who sat between us, laughingly pretended to protect me from him, and he thrust his snuff-box across at me.

The Prince rose, and, followed by Murray, left the room. We all stood gossiping together. Ogilvie and O'Sullivan talked very earnestly about the Colonel's trick. His Grace of Perth ogled Margaret off towards the window on pretence of showing her some sight of interest in the square.

"Did they leave him in the lurch?" twittered a voice mockingly in my ear.

It was my lady Ogilvie.

"It must be nice to be with a duke," said I, very glum and miserable again all of a sudden.

"It's a great deal nicer to be with a man," she answered. "Come and help me throw crumbs to the pretty wee birdies in the garden."

In his attempt to 'smash 'em in detail' the Prince was acute enough to use the Colonel, and condescending enough to use me, as supporters. The unrivalled military skill which the Colonel would devote to the winning of London was dwelt upon until even the Colonel, in no wise inclined to under-estimate it, got restive, and snuffed and pshawed with great vigour.

I, of course, was the early, strong-winged swallow that announced the flights of laggards behind.

There were some dozen chiefs of considerable position in the Prince's army, and he tackled them one by one, and tried to argue them into his way of thinking. Some he sent for to his lodging; others he visited in theirs--a special but wasted mark of distinction. On the whole they would not budge. They were courteous and respectful, for they were gentlemen, and he was their Prince, but their minds were made up and they would not surrender their wills to his. Mostly, in their talk, they simply chewed over again the morning's cud.

Mr. Secretary went off as envoy to fetch the chiefs to Exeter House, where the Prince received them in his little private chamber overlooking the gardens. He would stand, silent and moody, glowering out of the window, with the Colonel and me standing silent and thoughtful behind him.