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Updated: June 19, 2025
The detective rubbed his chin reflectively. "What next?" "Margaret Langmore was so horrified she ran from the room screaming wildly. Her shrieks brought the servant to the spot, and a minute later two of the neighbors, Mrs. Bardon and her son Alfred, came over from next door." "Where was Mrs. Langmore at this time?" "Nobody knew.
"A good many folks from the village." "Anybody else?" "Yes, a detective from Brooklyn. He thought there might be a job for him, but there wasn't, so he went away," and the policeman smiled grimly. "What was his name?" "I think he said it was Peterson." "Is that the Bardon house yonder?" And Adam Adams pointed through the window and across the side lawn. "Yes.
He came closer. The young fellow raking up the leaves turned, and Andy exclaimed: "Link Bardon! What in the world are you doing here?" "Oh, I've come to college!" replied the young farm hand, smiling. "How do you do, Mr. Blair?" "Come to college, eh?" laughed Andy. "What course are you taking?" "I expect to get the degree B. W. bachelor of work," was the rejoinder.
The scout-master arrived after a brief delay, during which John traversed the apartment with, unequal and disordered steps. "Bardon," said he, "what did Waldemar desire of thee?" "Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern wilds, and skilful in tracking the tread of man and horse." "And thou hast fitted him?" "Let your grace never trust me else," answered the master of the spies.
The doors of the banqueting-hall opened, and Fawley, Radlett, Bardon, Ingrow, and Halfman came in, all brighter for wine and food. "'Tis boot and saddle, Rufus," Fawley cried. "I am yours," Rufus answered. He bowed over Brilliana's fingers. "Farewell, lady." One and all they turned and left her, and as they tramped into the air the chorus of the Cavalier song came back to her happy ears.
"One is from Hexamshire; he is wont to trace the Tynedale and Teviotdale thieves, as a bloodhound follows the slot of a hurt deer. The other is Yorkshire bred, and has twanged his bowstring right oft in merry Sherwood; he knows each glade and dingle, copse and high-wood, betwixt this and Richmond." "'Tis well," said the Prince. "Goes Waldemar forth with them?" "Instantly," said Bardon.
Out swords and force the toast." As he spoke he drew his sword with his best Mercutio manner, and the suggestion and the naked steel carried contagion. Every gentleman unsheathed his sword; all advanced upon Evander, a line of shining points. "Bait him, bait him!" Bardon shouted. Ingrow shrilled, "Tickle him, prick him, pink him till he drinks!"
But High Marshal of England! that," he said, extending his arm, as if to grasp the baton of office, and assuming a loftier stride along the antechamber, "that is indeed a prize worth playing for!" De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince John summoned an attendant. "Bid Hugh Bardon, our scout-master, come hither, as soon as he shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzurse."
A pleasant walk of two miles along the Wharfe brings us to the famous Strid, where the river is hemmed in between ledges of rock, and the scene of the rushing waters is very fine, especially after a rain. Beautiful paths wind along the hillsides and through the woods, and here, where the ruins of Bardon Tower rise high above the valley, is a favorite resort of artists.
One of the most lively of them was Joseph de Bardon, a celibate living the Parisian life in its fullest and most whimsical manner. He was not a debauche nor depraved, but a singular, happy fellow, still young, for he was scarcely forty.
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