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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Strike a light, one of you." "There's two of them, two wenches, by God, and young ones." "Fetch them into the meeting-house and make them dance." "Ay, by God, we'll tie their petticoats round their necks and then make them dance." There was a rush of men to the door of the meeting-house. Lord Dunseveric and Captain Twinely were borne back before they could see what was going on.
Neal recognised it as that of the Kilulta yeomen, the men who had raided his father's meeting-house. He recognised one of the officers Captain Twinely. The sergeant made his report. He and his men had been patrolling the lane as they had been ordered. They had heard a man running fast towards them, had stopped him, and arrested him.
The men tramped about, upsetting the benches and cursing as they tripped upon them. "It's as dark as hell," said Captain Twinely. "Send a man down to the minister's house and let him fetch up a bundle of bogwood to serve us for torches. I must have light." One of the men departed on the errand.
You must admit, General Clavering, that only a man with a feeling for the ridiculous would have thought of " "It will be better for you to hear what the sentry has to say, my lord, and I beg of you to regard the matter seriously. I assure you it will not bear joking on. The rescue of a prisoner is a grave offence. Captain Twinely, kindly order your man to tell his story."
Lord Dunseveric himself shut the door of the room and drew a bolt across it. Captain Twinely took a sealed packet from his breast. Lord Dunseveric looked carefully at the address, broke the seal, and read the contents of the paper within. "Do you know the contents of this paper, Captain Twinely?"
The earths are all stopped. We'll have a fine burst, and kill the vermin in the end." Neal stood upright. "I surrender to you, Captain Twinely. I surrender as a prisoner of war." It seemed to him the only chance of saving Peg MacIlrea. It was just possible that the yeomen would be satisfied with one prisoner. "By God," said the captain, "if it isn't that damned young Ward again.
There was an expression of loathing on the girl's lips and in her eyes when he stepped up to her, hat in hand. "Una," said the Comtesse, "the dear captain will take pity on us. He will send one of his men back to the house to fetch a cold chicken and some wine and all the delightful things we are to eat and drink. Give him a note to the butler, Una, we will go on with Captain Twinely."
The troopers who had brought the baskets from Dunseveric House sat on their horses at the end of the rough track which led to the strand. The Comtesse reclined on a cloak spread for her on the grass. Captain Twinely, a worshipper with bold eyes and stupid tongue, sat at her feet and gazed at her. He had ceased even to wonder at his own good fortune in captivating so fair a lady.
"Since I am not a prisoner at the bar," said Lord Dunseveric, "I shall, with your permission, sit down. As to the seriousness of the business in hand, I confess that for the moment the thought of the worthy Twinely waking this morning not only with a splitting headache but without a pair of breeches on him keeps the humorous side of the situation prominent in my mind." The sentry told his story.
Did you take the clothes off Captain Twinely?" "Yes." "And was that part of the scheme entirely your own? Did the idea originate with you or with the prisoner whom you helped to escape?" "It was my idea." "I apologise to you, Maurice. I did you an injustice. You have a certain sense of humour.
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