Tales from Blackwood Volume Ii Part 13

"I say, Pounset, if she tries that trick again I'll hamstring her without the slightest ceremony."

"Pooh--nonsense!" replied Pounset. "Woa, Miss Frolic--woa, la.s.s!--she's the gentlest creature in the creation--a child might ride her with a feather. Mere playfulness, my dear fellow, I a.s.sure you!"

"Hang her playfulness!" cried Anthony; "I've no idea of having my brains made a batter pudding for the amus.e.m.e.nt of a jade like that."

"Are you sure, Whaup, that you did not tickle her tail?" asked Pounset, with provoking coolness. "She's a rare 'un to scatter a crowd."

"Hang me if I'd come within three yards of her if I possibly could help it," quoth Anthony. "If any gentleman in the neighbourhood has a fancy to exchange places, I'm his man."

"Threes right!" cried the commanding-officer, and we executed a movement of which I am wholly unconscious; for, to the credit of Masaniello be it said, he took the direction in his own mouth, and performed it so as to save his rider from reproach.

Then came the sword exercise, consisting of a series of slashes, which went off tolerably well--then the skirmis.h.i.+ng, when one of our flank men was capsized--and at last, to my great joy, we were permitted to sit at ease; that is, as easily as our previous exertions would allow. I then learned to appreciate the considerate attention of the authorities in abrogating the use of pistols. In each man's holsters were a soda-water bottle, filled for the nonce with something more pungent than the original Schweppe, and a cigar-case. These were now called into requisition, and a dense wreath of smoke arose along the lines of the squadron. The officer then in command embraced the opportunity of addressing us in a pithy oration.

"Gentlemen!" said he, "I would not be performing my duty to my Queen and my country, (cheers), if I did not express to you my extreme surprise and satisfaction at the manner in which the new recruits have gone through the preliminary drill. Upon my honour I expected that more than one half of you would have been spilt--a spectacle which might possibly have been pleasing to those veteran warriors of Dalmahoy, but which I should have witnessed with extraordinary pain. As it is, you rode like bricks. However, it is my duty to inform you, that a more serious trial of your fort.i.tude is about to come. The squadrons will presently form together, and you will be called upon to charge. Many of you know very well how to do that already"--

"Especially the Writers to the Signet," muttered Anthony.

"But there are others who are new to the movement. To those gentlemen, therefore, I shall address a few words of caution; they are short and simple. Screw yourselves tight in your saddles--hold hard at first--keep together as you best can--think that the enemy are before you--and go at it like blazes!"

A shout of approval followed this doughty address, and the heart of every trooper burned with military ardour. For my own part, I was becoming quite reconciled to the thing. I perfectly coincided with my commanding-officer in his amazement at the adhesive powers of myself and several others, and with desperate recklessness I resolved to test them to the utmost. The bugle now sounded the signal to fall in. Soda bottles and cigar-cases were returned to their original concealment, and we once more took our respective places in the ranks.

"Now comes the fun," said Randolph, after the leading squadron had charged in line. "Mind yourselves, boys!"

"March--trot--gallop."

On we went like waves of the sea, regularly enough at first, then slightly inclining to the line of beauty, as some of the weaker hacks began to show symptoms of bellows.

"Cha--a--rge!"

"Go ahead!" cried Randolph, sticking his spurs into his Bucephalus.

Masaniello, with a snort, fairly took the bridle into his teeth, and dashed off with me at a speed which threatened to throw the ranks into utter confusion. As for Pounset, he appeared to be possessed with the fury of a demon. His kicking mare sent up at every stride large clods of sand in the teeth of the unfortunate Anthony Whaup, whose presence of mind seemed at last to have forsaken him.

"What the mischief are you after, Whaup?" panted the trooper on his left. "Just take your foot out of my stirrup, will you?"

"Devil a bit!" quoth Anthony, "I'm too glad to get anything to hold on by."

"If you don't, you're a gone 'c.o.o.n. There!--I told you." And the steed of Anthony was rus.h.i.+ng riderless among the press.

I don't know exactly how we pulled up. I have an indistinct notion that I owed my own arrest to Neptune, and that Masaniello was chest deep in the sea before he paid the slightest attention to my convulsive tugs at the bridle. Above the rush of waves I heard a yell of affright, and perceived that I had nearly ridden over the carca.s.s of a fat old gentleman, who, _in puris naturalibus_, was disporting himself in the water, and who now, in an agony of terror, and apparently under the impression that he was a selected victim for the tender mercies of the yeomanry, struck out vigorously for Inchkeith. I did not tarry to watch his progress, but returned as rapidly as possible to the squadron.

By this time the sh.o.r.es of Portobello were crowded with habitual bathers. There is a graceful _abandon_, and total absence of prudery, which peculiarly characterise the frequenters of that interesting spot, and reminds one forcibly of the manners of the Golden Age. Hirsute Triton and dishevelled Nereid there float in unabashed proximity; and, judging from the usual number of spectators, there is something remarkably attractive in the style of these aquatic exercises.

The tide was pretty far out, so that of course there was a wide tract of sand between the s.h.i.+ngle and the sea. Our squadron was again formed in line, when a bathing-machine was observed leisurely bearing down upon our very centre, conveying its freight towards the salubrious waters.

"Confound that boy!" cried the commanding-officer; "he will be among the ranks in a minute. Sergeant! ride out, and warn the young scoundrel off at his peril."

The sergeant galloped towards the machine.

"Where are you going, you young sc.u.m of the earth? Do you not see the troops before you? Get back this instant!"

"I'll do naething o' the kind," replied the urchin, walloping his bare legs, by way of encouragement, against the sides of the anatomy he bestrode. "The sands is just as free to huz as to ony o' ye, and I would like to ken what richt ye have tae prevent the foulks frae bathin'."

"Do you dare to resist, you vagabond?" cried the man of stripes, with a terrific flourish of his sabre. "Wheel back immediately, or"----and he went through the first four cuts of the sword exercise.

"Eh man!" said the intrepid shrimp, "what wull ye do? Are ye no ashamed, a great muckle fellie like you, to come majoring, an' shakin' yer swurd at a bit laddie? Eh, man, if I was ner yer size, I'd gie ye a licking mysel'. Stand oot o' the gate, I say, an' I'll sune run through the haill o' ye. I'm no gaun to lose a saxpence for yeer nonsensical parauds."

"Cancel my commission!" said the lieutenant, "if the brat hasn't bothered the sergeant! The bathing-machine is coming down upon us like the chariot of Queen Boadicea! This will never do. Randolph--you and M'Whirter ride out and reinforce. That scoundrel is another Kellerman, and will break us to a dead certainty!"

"Twa mair o' ye!" observed the youth with incredible nonchalance, as we rode up with ferocious gestures. "O men, but ye're bauld bauld the day!

Little chance the Frenchies wad hae wi' the like o' you 'gin they were comin'! Gee hup, Bauldy!"

"Come, come, my boy," said Randolph, nearly choking with laughter, "this is all very well, but you must positively be off. Come, tumble round, my fine fellow, and you shall have leave to pa.s.s presently."

"Aum no gaun to lose the tide that way," persevered the urchin. "The sands is open to the haill o' huz, and I'll no gang back for nane o' ye.

Gin ye offer tae strike me, I'll hae the haill squad o' ye afore the Provost o' Portobelly, and, ma certie, there'll be a wheen heels sune coolin' in the jougs!"

"By heavens! this is absolutely intolerable!" said the sergeant--"M'Whirter, order the man in the inside to open the door, and come out in Her Majesty's name."

I obeyed, as a matter of course.

"I say--you, sir, inside--do you know where you are going? Right into the centre of a troop of the Royal Yeomanry Cavalry! If you are a gentleman and a loyal subject, you will open the door immediately, and desire the vehicle to be stopped."

In order to give due effect to this remonstrance, and also to impress the inmate with a proper sense of the consequences of interference with martial discipline, I bestowed cut No. Seven with all my might upon the machine. To my horror, and that of my companions, there arose from within a prolonged and double-voiced squall.

"Hang me, if it isn't women!" said the sergeant.

"Yer mither wull be proud o' ye the nicht," said the Incubus on the atomy, "when it's tell't her that ye hae whanged at an auld machine, and frichtet twa leddies to the skirlin'! Ony hoo, M'Whirter, gin that's your name, there'll be half-a-croun to pay for the broken brodd!"

The small sliding-panel at the back of the machine was now cautiously opened.

"Goodness gracious, Mr M'Whirter!" said a voice which I instantly recognised to be that of Edith Bogle, "is it possible that can be you?

Is it the custom, sir, of the Scottish yeomen to break in upon the privacy of two young defenceless females, and even to raise their weapons against the place which contains them? Fie, sir! is this your boasted chivalry?"

"O George--go away, do! I am really quite ashamed of you!" said the voice of my cousin, Mary Muggerland.

I thought I should have dropped from my saddle.

"Friends of yours, eh, M'Whirter?" said Randolph. "Rather an awkward fix, I confess. What's to be done?"

"Would the regulars have behaved thus?" cried Edith, with increased animation. "Would they have insulted a woman? Never. Begone, sir--I am afraid I have been mistaken in you"----

"By my honour, Edith!--Miss Bogle, I mean--you do me gross injustice! I did not know--I could not conceive that you, or Mary, or any other lady, were in the machine, and then--consider my orders"----

"Orders, sir! There are some orders which never ought to be obeyed. But enough of this. If you have delicacy enough to feel for our situation, you will not protract this interview. Drive on, boy! and you, Mr M'Whirter, if you venture to interrupt us further, never expect my pardon."

"Nor mine!" added Mary Muggerland.

"Who the mischief cares for yours, you monkey!" muttered I _sotto voce_.

"But Edith--one other word"----