Miller Loveday and David, feeling themselves to be rather a desecration in the presence of Bob's sacred emotions, managed to edge off by degrees, the former burying himself in the most floury recesses of the mill, his invariable resource when perturbed, the rumbling having a soothing effect upon the nerves of those properly trained to its music.
Bob was so impatient that, after going up to her room to assure himself once more that she had not undressed, but had only lain down on the outside of the bed, he went out of the house to meet John, and waited on the sunny slope of the down till his brother appeared.
John looked so brave and shapely and warlike that, even in Bob's present distress, he could not but feel an honest and affectionate pride at owning such a relative. Yet he fancied that John did not come along with the same swinging step he had shown yesterday; and when the trumpet-major got nearer he looked anxiously at the mate and waited for him to speak first.
'You know our great trouble, John?' said Robert, gazing stoically into his brother's eyes.
'Come and sit down, and tell me all about it,' answered the trumpet-major, showing no surprise.
They went towards a slight ravine, where it was easier to sit down than on the flat ground, and here John reclined among the grasshoppers, pointing to his brother to do the same.
'But do you know what it is?' said Robert. 'Has anybody told ye?'
'I do know,' said John. 'She's gone; and I am thankful!'
'What!' said Bob, rising to his knees in amazement.
'I'm at the bottom of it,' said the trumpet-major slowly.
'You, John?'
'Yes; and if you will listen I'll tell you all. Do you remember what happened when I came into the room last night. Why, she turned colour and nearly fainted away. That was because she knew me.'
Bob stared at his brother with a face of pain and distrust.
'For once, Bob, I must say something that will hurt thee a good deal,' continued John. 'She was not a woman who could possibly be your wife--and so she's gone.'
'You sent her off?'
'Well, I did.'
'John!--Tell me right through--tell me!'
'Perhaps I had better,' said the trumpet-major, his blue eyes resting on the far distant sea, that seemed to rise like a wall as high as the hill they sat upon.
And then he told a tale of Miss Johnson and the --th Dragoons which wrung his heart as much in the telling as it did Bob's to hear, and which showed that John had been temporarily cruel to be ultimately kind. Even Bob, excited as he was, could discern from John's manner of speaking what a terrible undertaking that night's business had been for him. To justify the course he had adopted the dictates of duty must have been imperative; but the trumpet-major, with a becoming reticence which his brother at the time was naturally unable to appreciate, scarcely dwelt distinctly enough upon the compelling cause of his conduct. It would, indeed, have been hard for any man, much less so modest a one as John, to do himself justice in that remarkable relation, when the listener was the lady's lover; and it is no wonder that Robert rose to his feet and put a greater distance between himself and John.
'And what time was it?' he asked in a hard, suppressed voice.
'It was just before one o'clock.'
'How could you help her to go away?'
'I had a pass. I carried her box to the coach-office. She was to follow at dawn.'
'But she had no money.'
'Yes, she had; I took particular care of that.. John did not add, as he might have done, that he had given her, in his pity, all the money he possessed, and at present had only eighteen-pence in the world. 'Well, it is over, Bob; so sit ye down, and talk with me of old times,' he added.
'Ah, Jack, it is well enough for you to speak like that,' said the disquieted sailor; 'but I can't help feeling that it is a cruel thing you have done. After all, she would have been snug enough for me. Would I had never found out this about her. John, why did you interfere. You had no right to overhaul my affairs like this. Why didn't you tell me fairly all you knew, and let me do as I chose?
You have turned her out of the house, and it's a shame. If she had only come to me. Why didn't she?'
'Because she knew it was best to do otherwise.'
'Well, I shall go after her,' said Bob firmly.
'You can do as you like,' said John; 'but I would advise you strongly to leave matters where they are.'
'I won't leave matters where they are,' said Bob impetuously. 'You have made me miserable, and all for nothing. I tell you she was good enough for me; and as long as I knew nothing about what you say of her history, what difference would it have made to me. Never was there a young woman who was better company; and she loved a merry song as I do myself. Yes, I'll follow her.'
'O, Bob,' said John; 'I hardly expected this!'
'That's because you didn't know your man. Can I ask you to do me one kindness. I don't suppose I can. Can I ask you not to say a word against her to any of them at home?'
'Certainly. The very reason why I got her to go off silently, as she has done, was because nothing should be said against her here, and no scandal should be heard of.'
'That may be; but I'm off after her. Marry that girl I will.'
'You'll be sorry.'
'That we shall see,' replied Robert with determination; and he went away rapidly towards the mill. The trumpet-major had no heart to follow--no good could possibly come of further opposition; and there on the down he remained like a graven image till Bob had vanished from his sight into the mill.
Bob entered his father's only to leave word that he was going on a renewed search for Matilda, and to pack up a few necessaries for his journey. Ten minutes later he came out again with a bundle in his hand, and John saw him go diagonally across the lower fields towards the high-road.
'And this is all the good I have done!' said John, musingly readjusting his stock where it cut his neck, and descending towards the mill.
