'You often come this way?' said Festus to Anne rather before he had overtaken her.
'I come for the newspaper and other things,' she said, perplexed by a doubt whether he were there by accident or design.
They moved on in silence, Festus beating the grass with his switch in a masterful way. 'Did you speak, Mis'ess Anne?' he asked.
'No,' said Anne.
'Ten thousand pardons. I thought you did. Now don't let me drive you out of the path. I can walk among the high grass and giltycups--they will not yellow my stockings as they will yours. Well, what do you think of a lot of soldiers coming to the neighbourhood in this way?'
'I think it is very lively, and a great change,' she said with demure seriousness.
'Perhaps you don't like us warriors as a body?'
Anne smiled without replying.
'Why, you are laughing!' said the yeoman, looking searchingly at her and blushing like a little fire. 'What do you see to laugh at?'
'Did I laugh?' said Anne, a little scared at his sudden mortification.
'Why, yes; you know you did, you young sneerer,' he said like a cross baby. 'You are laughing at me--that's who you are laughing at. I should like to know what you would do without such as me if the French were to drop in upon ye any night?'
'Would you help to beat them off?' said she.
'Can you ask such a question. What are we for. But you don't think anything of soldiers.'
O yes, she liked soldiers, she said, especially when they came home from the wars, covered with glory; though when she thought what doings had won them that glory she did not like them quite so well.
The gallant and appeased yeoman said he supposed her to mean chopping off heads, blowing out brains, and that kind of business, and thought it quite right that a tender-hearted thing like her should feel a little horrified. But as for him, he should not mind such another Blenheim this summer as the army had fought a hundred years ago, or whenever it was--dash his wig if he should mind it at all. 'Hullo! now you are laughing again; yes, I saw you!. And the choleric Festus turned his blue eyes and flushed face upon her as though he would read her through. Anne strove valiantly to look calmly back; but her eyes could not face his, and they fell. 'You did laugh!' he repeated.
'It was only a tiny little one,' she murmured.
'Ah--I knew you did!' thundered he. 'Now what was it you laughed at?'
'I only--thought that you were--merely in the yeomanry,' she murmured slily.
'And what of that?'
'And the yeomanry only seem farmers that have lost their senses.'
'Yes, yes. I knew you meant some jeering o' that sort, Mistress Anne. But I suppose 'tis the way of women, and I take no notice.
I'll confess that some of us are no great things. but I know how to draw a sword, don't I?--say I don't just to provoke me.'
'I am sure you do,' said Anne sweetly. 'If a Frenchman came up to you, Mr. Derriman, would you take him on the hip, or on the thigh?'
'Now you are flattering!' he said, his white teeth uncovering themselves in a smile. 'Well, of course I should draw my sword--no, I mean my sword would be already drawn; and I should put spurs to my horse--charger, as we call it in the army; and I should ride up to him and say--no, I shouldn't say anything, of course--men never waste words in battle; I should take him with the third guard, low point, and then coming back to the second guard--'
'But that would be taking care of yourself--not hitting at him.'
