'But--but Bob is in the navy now, and will most likely rise to be an officer. And then--'
'What is there like the army?' she interrupted. 'There is no smartness about sailors. They waddle like ducks, and they only fight stupid battles that no one can form any idea of. There is no science nor stratagem in sea-fights--nothing more than what you see when two rams run their heads together in a field to knock each other down. But in military battles there is such art, and such splendour, and the men are so smart, particularly the horse-soldiers. O, I shall never forget what gallant men you all seemed when you came and pitched your tents on the downs. I like the cavalry better than anything I know; and the dragoons the best of the cavalry--and the trumpeters the best of the dragoons!'
'O, if it had but come a little sooner!' moaned John within him. He replied as soon as he could regain self-command, 'I am glad Bob is in the navy at last--he is so much more fitted for that than the merchant-service--so brave by nature, ready for any daring deed. I have heard ever so much more about his doings on board the Victory.
Captain Hardy took special notice that when he--'
'I don't want to know anything more about it,' said Anne impatiently; 'of course sailors fight; there's nothing else to do in a ship, since you can't run away. You may as well fight and be killed as be killed not fighting.'
'Still it is his character to be careless of himself where the honour of his country is concerned,' John pleaded. 'If you had only known him as a boy you would own it. He would always risk his own life to save anybody else's. Once when a cottage was afire up the lane he rushed in for a baby, although he was only a boy himself, and he had the narrowest escape. We have got his hat now with the hole burnt in it. Shall I get it and show it to you?'
'No--I don't wish it. It has nothing to do with me.. But as he persisted in his course towards the door, she added, 'Ah! you are leaving because I am in your way. You want to be alone while you read the paper--I will go at once. I did not see that I was interrupting you.. And she rose as if to retreat.
'No, no. I would rather be interrupted by YOU than--O, Miss Garland, excuse me. I'll just speak to father in the mill, now I am here.'
It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose unquestionable gentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has been many times insisted on in the course of this history) was usually the reverse of a woman with a coming-on disposition; but, whether from pique at his manner, or from wilful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, or from coquettish maliciousness in reaction from long depression, or from any other thing,--so it was that she would not let him go.
'Trumpet-major,' she said, recalling him.
'Yes?' he replied timidly.
'The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it not?. She turned and fixed her bewitching glance upon him.
The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the point where the organ of comparison merges in that of benevolence, according to the phrenological theory of Gall. John, thus brought to, endeavoured to look at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drake fashion, so as to avoid dipping his own glance as far as to the plane of his interrogator's eyes. 'It is untied,' he said, drawing back a little.
She came nearer, and asked, 'Will you tie it for me, please?'
As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and assented. As her head only reached to his fourth button she necessarily looked up for his convenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he would it was impossible to touch the ribbon without getting his finger tips mixed with the curls of her forehead.
'Your hand shakes--ah! you have been walking fast,' she said.
'Yes--yes.'
'Have you almost done it?. She inquiringly directed her gaze upward through his fingers.
'No--not yet,' he faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart going like a flail.
'Then be quick, please.'
'Yes, I will, Miss Garland. B--B--Bob is a very good fel--'
'Not that man's name to me!' she interrupted.
John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the rustling of the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among the curls, and then touched her forehead.
'O good God!' ejaculated the trumpet-major in a whisper, turning away hastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting his face upon his hand.
'What's the matter, John?' said she.
'I can't do it!'
'What?'
'Tie your cap-ribbon.'
'Why not?'
'Because you are so--Because I am clumsy, and never could tie a bow.'
'You are clumsy indeed,' answered Anne, and went away.
After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he rated her happiness as of meaner value than Bob's; since he had persisted in his idea of giving Bob another chance when she had implied that it was her wish to do otherwise. Could Miss Johnson have anything to do with his firmness. An opportunity of testing him in this direction occurred some days later. She had been up the village, and met John at the mill-door.
'Have you heard the news. Matilda Johnson is going to be married to young Derriman.'
Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his features were searchingly exhibited. There was no change whatever in them, unless it were that a certain light of interest kindled by her question turned to complete and blank indifference. 'Well, as times go, it is not a bad match for her,' he said, with a phlegm which was hardly that of a lover.
