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The men crowded through the door, eager for some new excitement. Lord Dunseveric and Captain Twinely followed as quickly as they could. There was another shriek, a sound of blows and cursing. Then men's voices rose above the tumult. "Down with the damned croppy." "Throttle him." "Knife him." "Hold him now you've got him." "Take a belt for his arms." "Ah, here's Tarn with the torches."
His face was cut and bleeding slightly. His coat was rent from collar to skirt. "Make way, make way, for the ladies." A trooper entered with two women. He had an arm clasped round each. Lord Dunseveric recognised with amazement and horror his daughter and sister-in-law. Una made no resistance. She was terrified into a state of helplessness.
No man cared to look at his neighbour. Lord Dunseveric's last words had been unpleasant ones to listen to. Besides, Lord Dunseveric was a man of some importance. It is impossible to tell how far the influence of a great territorial lord may stretch. Promotion is sometimes stopped mysteriously by influences which are not very easily baffled.
Neal fancied himself awaking from some hideous nightmare. It became impossible to believe in the reality of the battle, the fierce passion of it, the smoke, the sweat, the wounds, the cries. He was lulled into delicious ease. Rest was for the time the supreme good of life. His eyes closed drowsily. He was back in Dunseveric again, and in his ears the noise of a gentle summer sea.
He reaped the reward of courage and skill, extricating his musketeers from what seemed an impossible position. General Clavering seemed in no way disconcerted by the escape of Hope's musketeers. He marched through the town with drums beating and colours flying, having very much the air of a victorious general. Lord Dunseveric stepped out of the graveyard and saluted him.
"I deny it," said James Finlay. "You have no proof of what you assert. Will you murder a man on suspicion?" "Neal Ward," said Donald, "is this the James Finlay who was sworn into the society by your father?" "Yes," said Neal. "Tell us what you know about the visit of the yeomen to Dunseveric."
There should be no more of it." Lord Dunseveric entered the room where General Clavering and his officers sat at dinner. Captain Twinely stood at the end of the table, and Lord Dunseveric heard the orders he received. "Put him into the market-house to-night. I'll hang that fellow in the morning, whatever I do with the rest."
It is possible that our men will cease firing when they see that Maurice and I are between them and you." Neal stooped and raised the boy. "I can walk fine," he said, "if you let me put my arm round your neck." There was a pause in the fighting. The English infantry drawn up on the terrace behind the wall would not fire on Lord Dunseveric and his son.
Neal took him by the arm, and together they joined the remnant of Hope's musketeers in their march against the fresh troops who approached them. Lord Dunseveric, heedless of the bullets which still swept the street from the demesne, stood on the graveyard wall. He was excited at last. "Maurice," he cried, "these men are going to certain destruction, but, by God, their courage is glorious.
"You may be sure that your lordship's recommendation shall have due weight with me." The words were civil, but Lord Dunseveric detected a sneer in the voice which uttered them. He was not well pleased. "I trust, sir," he said coldly, "that I am to take your words literally and not interpret them in accordance with the tone in which they are spoken."
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