The Young Buglers Read online

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  THE YOUNG BUGLERS

  by G.A. Henty

  PREFACE

  To my Young Readers.

  I remember that, as a boy, I regarded any attempt to mix instructionwith amusement as being as objectionable a practice as theadministration of powder in jam; but I think that this feeling arosefrom the fact that in those days books contained a very small shareof amusement and a very large share of instruction. I have endeavoredto avoid this, and I hope that the accounts of battles and sieges,illustrated as they are by maps, will be found as interestingas the lighter parts of the story. As in my tale, "_The YoungFranc-Tireurs_," I gave the outline of the Franco-German war, soI have now endeavored to give the salient features of the greatPeninsular struggle. The military facts, with the names of generalsand regiments, the dates and places, are all strictly accurate, andany one who has read with care the story of "The Young Buglers" couldpass an examination as to the leading events of the Peninsular war.

  Yours truly,

  THE AUTHOR.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. A Coaching Adventure

  CHAPTER II. The Young Pickles

  CHAPTER III. Enlisted

  CHAPTER IV. A Tough Customer

  CHAPTER V. Overboard

  CHAPTER VI. Portugal

  CHAPTER VII. The Passage of the Douro--Talavera

  CHAPTER VIII. A Pause in Operations

  CHAPTER IX. "With the Guerillas"

  CHAPTER X. Madrid

  CHAPTER XI. The Fight on the Coa

  CHAPTER XII. Busaco and Torres Vedras

  CHAPTER XIII. Albuera

  CHAPTER XIV. Invalided Home

  CHAPTER XV. Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos

  CHAPTER XVI. Salamanca

  CHAPTER XVII. Caught in a Trap

  CHAPTER XVIII. Just in Time

  CHAPTER XIX. Vittoria

  CHAPTER XX. Toulouse

  THE YOUNG BUGLERS.

  CHAPTER I.

  A COACHING ADVENTURE.

  Had any of the boys in the lower forms of Eton in the year 1808, beenasked who were the most popular boys of their own age, they would havebeen almost sure to have answered, without the slightest hesitation,Tom and Peter Scudamore, and yet it is probable that no two boyswere more often in disgrace. It was not that they were idle, upon thecontrary, both were fairly up in their respective forms, but they wereconstantly getting into mischief of one sort or another; yet evenwith the masters they were favorites, there was never anything low,disgraceful, or ungentlemanly in their escapades, and they could betrusted never to attempt to screen themselves from the consequencesby prevarication, much less by lying. If the masters heard that aparty of youngsters had been seen far out of bounds, they were prettysure that the Scudamores were among them; a farmer came in from adistance to complain that his favorite tree had been stripped ofits apples--for in those days apples were looked upon by boys asfair objects of sport,--if the head-master's favorite white poodleappeared dyed a deep blue, if Mr. Jones, the most unpopular masterin the school, upon coming out of his door trod upon a quantity oftallow smeared all over the doorstep, and was laid up for a week inconsequence, there was generally a strong suspicion that Tom and PeterScudamore were concerned in the matter. One of their tricks actuallycame to the ears of the Provost himself, and caused quite a sensationin the place, but in this case, fortunately for them, they escapedundetected.

  One fine summer afternoon they were out on the water with two or threeother boys of their own age, when a barge was seen ahead at some shortdistance from the shore. She was apparently floating down with thestream, and the fact that a horse was proceeding along the towing-patha little way ahead was not noticed, as the rope was slack and wastrailing under water. The boys, therefore, as they were rowing againststream, steered their boat to pass inside of her. Just as they cameabreast of the horse a man on the barge suddenly shouted to the riderof the horse to go on. He did so, the rope tightened, rose from thewater just under the bow of the boat, and in another minute the boyswere struggling in the water. All were good swimmers, and wouldhave cared little for the ducking had it occurred accidentally, butthe roars of laughter of the bargeman, and the chaff with which heassailed them as they scrambled up the bank, showed clearly enoughthat they had been upset maliciously. The boys were furious, and oneor two proposed that they should report the case, but Tom Scudamorepointed out that the bargeman would of course declare that it wasa pure accident, and that the boys were themselves in fault in notlooking out whether the barge was being towed, before going insideher, and so nothing would come of reporting.

  The boat was dragged ashore and emptied, and in a few minutes theywere rowing back towards the town. The distance was but short, andthey did not repass the barge before they reached their boat-house.The brothers had exchanged a few words in a low voice on the way, andinstead of following the example of the others, and starting at a runfor the house where they boarded to change their clothes, they walkeddown by the river and saw that the barge had moored up against thebank, at a short distance below the bridge. They watched for a time,and saw the bargeman fasten up the hatch of the little cabin and goashore.

  That night two boys lowered themselves with a rope from the windowof one of the dames-houses, and walked rapidly down to the river.There were a few flickering oil lamps burning, and the one or twoold watchmen were soundly asleep in their boxes. They did not meet asoul moving upon their way to the object of the expedition, the bargethat had run them down. Very quietly they slipped on board, satisfiedthemselves by listening at the half-open hatch to the snoring withinthat their enemy was there, then loosened the moorings so that theycould be thrown off at a moment's notice.

  "Now, Peter," the elder brother said, "open our lantern. The night isquite still. You hold your hand behind it, so that the light will notfall on our faces, and I will look whether he is only wrapped up in ablanket or has a regular bed; we must not risk setting the place onfire. Get the crackers ready."

  A dark lantern was now taken out from under Tom's jacket, and wasfound to be still alight, an important matter, for striking a lightwith flint and steel was in those days a long and tedious business,and then opening it Tom threw the light into the cabin. It was atiny place, and upon a bench, wrapped up in a blanket, the bargemanwas lying. As the light fell on his eyes, he moved, and a momentafterwards started up with an oath, and demanded who was there.

  No answer came in words, but half a dozen lighted crackers were throwninto the cabin, when they began to explode with a tremendous uproar.In an instant the hatch was shut down and fastened outside. The ropewas cast off, and in another minute she was floating down stream withthe crackers still exploding inside her, but with their noise almostdeadened by the tremendous outcry of shouts and howls, and by acontinued and furious banging at the hatch.

  "There is no fear of his being choked, Tom, I hope?"

  "No, I expect he's all right," Tom said, "it will be pretty stiflingfor a bit no doubt, but there's a chimney hole and the smoke will findits way out presently. The barge will drift down to the weir before itbrings up, there is not enough stream out for there to be any risk ofher upsetting, else we daren't have turned her adrift."

  The next day the whole town was talking of the affair, and in theafternoon the bargeman went up to the head-master and accused one ofthe boys of an attempt to murder him.

  Greatly surprised, the Provost demanded what reason the man had forsuspecting the boys, and the bargeman acknowledged that he had thatafternoon upset a boat with four or five boys in her. "They would notbear you malice on that account," the Provost said; "they don't
thinkmuch of a swim such weather as this, unless indeed you did it onpurpose."

  The man hesitated in his answer, and the Provost continued, "Youevidently did do it on purpose, and in that case, although it wascarried too far, for I hear you had a very narrow escape of beingstifled, still you brought it upon yourself, and I hope it will be alesson to you not to risk the lives of Eton boys for your amusement. Iknow nothing about this affair, but if you can point out the boys yoususpect I will of course inquire into it."

  The bargeman departed, grumbling that he did not know one of the youngimps from another, but if he did find them, he'd wring their necks forthem to a certainty. The Provost had some inquiries made as to theboys who had been upset, and whether they had all been in at lock-uptime; finding that they had all answered to their names, he made nofurther investigation.

  This affair had taken place in the summer before this story begins,on the 15th of October, 1808. On that day a holiday was granted inconsequence of the head-master's birthday, and the boys set off, someto football, some for long walks in the country.

  The Scudamores, with several of their friends, strolled down thetowing-path for some miles, and walked back by the road. As theyentered their dames-house on their return, Tom Scudamore said for thetwentieth time, "Well, I would give anything to be a soldier, insteadof having to go in and settle down as a banker--it's disgusting!"

  As they entered a boy came up. "Oh, Scudamore, Jackson's been askingfor you both. It's something particular, for he has been out three orfour times, and he wanted to send after you, but no one knew where youhad gone."

  The boys at once went into the master's study, where they remained allthe afternoon. A short time after they went in, Mr. Jackson came outand said a word or two to one of the senior boys, and the word wasquickly passed round, that there was to be no row, for the Scudamoreshad just heard of the sudden death of their father. That evening, Mr.Jackson had beds made up for them in his study, so that they might nothave the pain of having to talk with the other boys. The housekeeperpacked up their things, and next morning early they started by thecoach for London.

  Mr. Scudamore, the father of the young Etonians, was a banker. He wasthe elder of two brothers, and had inherited his father's business,while his brother had gone into the army. The banker had married thedaughter of a landowner in the neighborhood, and had lived happily andprosperously until her death, seven years before this story begins.She had borne him three children, the two boys, now fifteen andfourteen years old respectively, and a girl, Rhoda, two years youngerthan Peter. The loss of his wife afflicted him greatly, and hereceived another shock five years later by the death of his brother,Colonel Scudamore, to whom he was much attached. From the time of hiswife's death he had greatly relaxed in his attention to his business,and after his brother's death he left the management almost entirelyin the hands of his cashier, in whom he had unlimited confidence.This confidence was wholly misplaced. For years the cashier hadbeen carrying on speculation upon his own account with the moniesof the bank. Gradually and without exciting the least suspicion hehad realized the various securities held by the bank, and at lastgathering all the available cash he, one Saturday afternoon, locked upthe bank and fled.

  On Monday it was found that he was missing; Mr. Scudamore went downto the bank, and had the books taken into his parlor for examination.Some hours afterwards a clerk went in and found his master lying backin his chair insensible. A doctor on arriving pronounced it to beapoplexy. He never rallied, and a few hours afterwards the news spreadthrough the country that Scudamore, the banker, was dead, and that thebank had stopped payment.

  People could believe the former item of news, but were incredulous asto the latter. Scudamore's bank was looked upon in Lincolnshire as atleast as safe as the Bank of England itself. But the sad truth wassoon clear to all, and for awhile there was great distress of mindamong the people, for many miles round, for most of them had entrustedall their savings of years to the Scudamores' bank. When affairs werewound up, however, it was found that things were not quite so bad ashad been feared. Mr. Scudamore had a considerable capital employedin the bank, and the sale of his handsome house and estate realizeda large sum, so that eventually every one received back the moneythey had entrusted to the bank; but the whole of the capital and theprofits of years of successful enterprise had vanished, and it wascalculated by the executors that the swindler must have appropriatedat least 80,000_l._

  For the first month after their father's death the boys stayed withthe doctor who had long attended the family and had treated all theirailments since they were born. In the great loss of their father theloss of their fortune affected them but little, except that they weresorry to be obliged to leave Eton; for the interest of the littlefortune which their mother had brought at her marriage, and which wasall that now remained to them, would not have been sufficient to payfor their expenses there, and indeed such an education would have beenout of place for two boys who had to make their own way in life. Atthe end of this month it was arranged that they were to go to theironly existing relative, an elder sister of Mr. Scudamore. The boys hadnever seen her, for she had not for many years been friends with herbrother.

  The letter which she had written to the doctor, announcing herwillingness to receive them, made the boys laugh, although it did nothold out prospects of a very pleasant future. "I am, of course," shesaid, "prepared to do my duty. No one can say that I have ever failedin my duty. My poor brother quarreled with me. It was his duty toapologize. He did not do so. Had it been my duty to apologize I shouldhave done so. As I was right, and he was wrong, it was clearly not myduty. I shall now do my duty to my niece and nephews. Yet I may beallowed to say that I regret much that they are not all nieces. I donot like boys. They are always noisy, and not always clean. They donot wipe their shoes, they are always breaking things, they go aboutwith all sorts of rubbish and dirt in their pockets, their hair isalways rough, they are fond of worrying cats, and other cruel games.Altogether they are objectionable. Had my brother made up his mind toleave his children in my charge, it was clearly his duty to have hadgirls instead of boys. However, it is not because other people failin their duty that I should fail in mine. Therefore, let them come tome this day fortnight. By that time I shall have got some strong andsuitable furniture in the room that my nephews will occupy, and shallhave time to make other arrangements. This letter will, if all goeswell, reach you, I believe, in three days after the date of posting,and they will take the same time coming here. Assure them that I amprepared to do my duty, and that I hope that they will make a seriouseffort at doing theirs. Ask my nephews, upon the occasion of theirfirst arrival, to make as little noise as they can, because my cat,Minnie, is very shy, and if she is scared at the first meeting,she will take a very long time to get accustomed to them. I alsoparticularly beg that they do not, as they come up to the house, throwstones at any of the pigeons who may be resting upon the roof, for theslates were all set right a few weeks ago, and I am sure I do not wishto have the slater here again; they were hanging about for ten daysthe last time they came. I do not know that I have anything else tosay."

  The boys received the reading of this singular epistle with shouts oflaughter.

  "Poor aunt," Tom said. "What does she think of us that she can supposethat, upon our very first arrival, we should come in like wildIndians, throwing stones at her pigeons, and frightening her Minnieinto fits. Did you ever hear such an extraordinary idea, DoctorJarvis?"

  "At any rate, boys," the doctor said, when the laughter had ceased,"you may find your aunt a little peculiar, but she is evidentlydetermined to do her duty to you, and you must do yours to her, andnot play more pranks than you can help. As to you, Rhoda, you willevidently be in high favor, and as you are fortunately a quiet littlelady, you will, I have no doubt, get on with her very well."

  "I hope so," Rhoda said, smiling, "you see she means to be kind,though she does write funny letters, and, at any rate, there areMinnie and the pigeons; it sounds nice, you
know. Do you know whataunt's place is like, Dr. Jarvis, and how to get there from here."

  "No, my dear, I never was in that part of England. It is close toMarlborough that she lives, a very pretty country, I believe. Thereis, of course, no way to go across from here. You must go up to Londonby coach from here, and then to Marlborough by the western coach. Iwill write to my brother James in town, where you stopped at night asyou came through, boys, and I know that he will take you all in forthe night, and see that you go off right in the morning."

  "You're very kind, indeed, Doctor Jarvis. I do not know how to thankyou for all you have done for us," Tom said earnestly, and the otherscordially echoed the sentiment.

  The day before starting the doctor had a long talk with the boys. Hepointed out to them that their future now depended upon themselvesalone. They must expect to find many unpleasantnesses in their way,but they must take their little trials pleasantly, and make the bestof everything. "I have no fear as to Rhoda," their kind friend said."She has that happy, amiable, and quiet disposition that is sure toadapt itself to all circumstances. I have no doubt she will become afavorite with your aunt. Try to keep out of scrapes, boys. You knowyou are rather fond of mischief, and your aunt will not be able tounderstand it. If you get into any serious difficulty write to me, youcan rely upon always finding a friend in me."

  The journey to London was no novelty to the boys, but Rhoda enjoyed itimmensely. Her place had been taken inside, but most of the journeyshe rode outside with her brothers. She was greatly amazed at thebustle and noise of London, and was quite confused at the shouting andcrowd at the place where the coach drew up, for two or three othercoaches had just arrived from other directions. Mr. Jarvis had senthis man-servant to meet them, their luggage was sent direct to thebooking-office from which the coach started for Marlborough, and theservant carried a small bag containing their night things. It wasevening when they got in, and Rhoda could scarcely keep her eyes openlong enough to have tea, for the coach had been two days and nightsupon the road. The next day they stayed in town, and Mrs. Jarvis tookthem out to see the sights of London--the Tower and St. Paul's, andWestminster Abbey, and the beasts at Exeter Change. The boys had twicebefore spent a whole day in London, their father having, upon twooccasions, made his visits to town to fit in with their going up toschool, but to Rhoda it was all new, and very, very wonderful.

  The next day the coach started early for Marlborough. It was totake rather over twenty-four hours on the way. As before, Rhoda rodeoutside with her brothers until the evening, but then, instead ofgoing inside, where there were five passengers already, she said, asthe night was so fine and warm, she would rather remain with them.They were sitting behind the coachman, there were two male passengersupon the same seat with them, and another in the box seat by thecoachman. The conversation turned, as in those days it was pretty sureto turn, upon highwaymen. Several coaches had been lately stopped bythree highwaymen, who worked together, and were reported to be morereckless than the generality of their sort. They had shot a coachmanwho refused to stop, the week before on Hounslow Heath, they hadkilled a guard on the great north road, and they had shot twopassengers who resisted, near Exeter.

  Tom and Peter were greatly amused by observing that the passenger whosat next to them, and who, at the commencement of the conversation,showed a brace of heavy pistols with which he was provided, with muchboasting as to what he should do if the coach were attacked, when heheard of the fate of the passengers who had resisted, became veryquiet indeed, and presently took an opportunity, when he thought thathe was not observed, of slipping his pistols under the tarpaulinbehind him.

  "I hope those dreadful men won't stop our coach," Rhoda said.

  "They won't hurt you if they do, Rhoda," Tom said assuringly. "I thinkit would be rather a lark. I say, Peter," he went on in a whisper, "Ithink we might astonish them with those pistols that coward next toyou has hid behind him."

  "I should just think so," Peter said; "the bargee at Eton would benothing to it."

  The hours went slowly on. Rhoda and the boys dozed uncomfortablyagainst each other and the baggage behind them, until they weresuddenly roused by a shout in the road beside them: "Stand for yourlives!"

  The moon was up, and they could see that there were three horsemen.One galloped to the horses' heads, and seized the rein of one of theleaders, the others rode by the coach.

  The first answer to the challenge was a discharge from the blunderbussof the guard, which brought one of the highwaymen from his horse.

  The other, riding up to the side of the coach, fired at the guard, anda loud cry told that the shot had taken effect. In another moment thefellow was by the side of the coachman.

  "Hold up!" he said, "or I will blow your brains out!"

  The coachman did as he was ordered, and indeed the man at the leader'shead had almost succeeded in stopping them. The passenger next to theboys had, at the first challenge, again seized his pistols, and theboys thought that he was going to fire after all.

  "Lie down at our feet, Rhoda, quick!" Tom said, "and don't movetill I tell you." The fate of the guard evidently frightened awaythe short-lived courage of the passenger, for, as the coachman againpulled up, he hastily thrust the pistols in behind him.

  "Get down, every one of you," the highwayman shouted.

  "Lie still, Rhoda," Tom whispered. "Now, Peter, get in underneath thetarpaulin."

  This was done as the passengers descended. The luggage was not soheavily piled as usual, and the boys found plenty of room beneath thetarpaulin.

  "Now, Peter, you take one of these pistols and give me the other. Nowpeep out. The moon is hidden, which is a good thing; now, look here,you shall shoot that fellow standing down below, who is swearing atthe ladies inside for not getting out quicker. I'll take a shot atthat fellow standing in front of the horse's heads."

  "Do you think you can hit him, Tom?"

  "I have not the least idea, but I can try; and if you hit the otherone, the chances are he'll bolt, whether I hit him or not. Open thetarpaulin at the side so as to see well, and rest the pistol uponsomething. You must take a good shot, Peter, for if you miss him weshall be in a mess."

  "All right," Peter said, in a whisper, "I can almost touch him withthe pistol."

  In loud and brutal tones the highwayman now began to order thefrightened ladies to give up their watches and rings, enforcing hiscommands with terrible curses. When suddenly a pistol flashed outjust behind him, and he fell off his horse with a ball through hisshoulder.

  Tom's shot, though equally well intended, was not so truly aimed.The highwayman had dismounted, and was standing just in front of theleaders, so that Tom had a fair view of him between them. The boys hadboth occasionally fired their father's pistols, for, in those days,each householder in the country always kept loaded pistols in hisroom, but his skill was not sufficient to make sure of a man at thatdistance. The bullet flew past at two feet to the left of his head.But its effect was scarcely less startling than if it had actually hithim, for, in its passage, it passed through the ear of the off leader.The horse made a start at the sudden pain, and then dashed forward.The rest of the team, already alarmed by the shot, followed her lead;before the startled highwayman could get out of the way they were uponhim, in another instant he was under their heels, and the coach gave asudden lurch as it passed over his body.

  "Lie still, Rhoda, a little longer; it's all right, but the horseshave run away," Tom exclaimed, as he scrambled forward, and caughthold of the reins, which the coachman had tied to the rail of the seatas he got down. "Catch hold of the reins, Peter, and help me pull."

  Peter did so; but the united strength of the boys was wholly unequalto arresting the headlong flight of the horses.

  Fortunately the highwaymen had chosen a low bottom between two hills,to arrest the coach, consequently the road was up a hill of moderatesteepness. The boys hoped that the horses would stop when they got tothe top; but they went on with redoubled speed.

  "This is som
ething like going it," Peter said.

  "Isn't it, Peter? They know their way, and we ain't lively to meetanything in the road. They will stop at their stable. At any rate,it's no use trying to steer them. Here, Rhoda dear, get up; are youvery much frightened?"

  Rhoda still lay quite still, and Peter, holding on with difficulty,for the coach quite rocked with the speed at which they were going,climbed over to her, and stooped, down. "Shall I help you up, Rhoda?"

  "No, please, I would rather stop here till it's all over."

  Fortunately the hill, up to the Tillage where they made the change,was a steep one, and the horses broke into a trot before they reachedthe top, and, in another minute drew up at the door of the inn.The astonishment of the ostlers at seeing the horses covered withlather, and coachbox tenanted only by two boys, behind whom a littlewhite face now peered out, was extreme, and they were unable to getbeyond an ejaculation of hallo! expressive of a depth of incredulousastonishment impossible to be rendered by words.

  "Look here," Tom said, with all the composure, and much of theimpudence, which then, as now, characterized the young Etonian, "don'tbe staring like a pack of stuck pigs. You had better get the freshhorses in, and drive back to the bottom, about four miles from here.There has been regular row with some fellows, and I expect two orthree are killed. Now, just put up the ladder; I want to get my sisterdown."

  Almost mechanically the men put the ladder up to the coach, and theboys and Rhoda got down.

  "Do you say the coach has been attacked by highwaymen in Burnetbottom?"

  "I don't know anything about Burnet bottom," Tom said. "It was abottom about four miles off. There were three of them. The guard shotone of them, and the others shot the guard. Then we were stopped bythem, and every one had to get down. Then the horses ran away, andhere we are."

  "Then there are two of those highwayman chaps with the passengers,"one of the men said.

  "You need not be afraid of them," Tom said carelessly; "one got shot,and I don't know about the other, but the wheel of the coach went overhim, so I do not suppose he will be much trouble. Now, if I were you,I should not stand staring any more, but should make haste and takethe coach back."

  "Hullo, look at this grey," one of the men exclaimed, as, at lastunderstanding what had taken place, they began to bustle about tochange horses. "He's got blood all over the side of his head. One ofthose scoundrels has shot him through the ear."

  Tom burst out laughing. "I am the scoundrel!" he said. "Peter, thatexplains why we went off so suddenly. I missed the fellow, and hit theleader in the ear. However, it comes to the same thing. By the way, wemay as well take the pistols."

  So saying, he ran up the ladder and brought down the pistols. By thistime the fresh horses were in.

  "I can't make nought of it," one of the ostlers said, climbing up intothe coachman's seat. "Jump up, Bill and Harry. It's the rummiest go Iever heard of in coaching."

  "Landlady, can you get us some tea at once, please," Tom said, goingup to the landlady, who was looking on from the door of the housewith an astonishment equal to that of the men at the whole affair;"as quickly as you can, for my sister looks regularly done up withfatigue, and then, please let her lie down till the coach is ready tostart again. It will be three quarters of an hour before it is back,and then, I daresay, there will be a lot of talking before they go on.I should think they will be wanting breakfast. At any rate, an hour'srest will do you good, Rhoda."

  Rhoda was too worn out with the over-excitement even to answer.Fortunately there was hot water in order to make hot grog for theoutriders of the coach, some tea was quickly made, and in ten minutesRhoda was fast asleep on the landlady's bed.

  Tom and Peter expressed their desire for something substantial in theway of eating, for the morning had now fairly broken. The landladybrought in some cold meat, upon which the boys made a vigorous attack,and then, taking possession of two benches, they dozed off until thecoach arrived.

  It had but three horses, for one had been sent off to carry Bill,the ostler, at full speed to the town at which they had last changedhorses, to fetch a doctor and the constable. The other two men hadremained with the guard, who was shot in the hip, and the highwayman,whose collar-bone was broken by Peter's shot. The fellow shot by theguard, and the other one, whom the coach wheels had passed over, wereboth dead.

  "There's the coach, Tom."

  "What a nuisance, Peter, they'll all be wanting to talk now, and I amjust so comfortably off. Well, I suppose it's no use trying to get anymore sleep."

  So saying, they roused themselves, and went out to the door just asthe coach drew up.

  There was a general shout of greeting from the passengers, which wasstopped, however, by a peremptory order from the coachman.

  He was a large, stout man, with a face red from the effects of windand exposure. "Jack," he said, to a man who was standing near, forthe news of the attack upon the coach had quickly spread, and allthe villagers were astir to see it come in. "Jack, hold the leader'shead. Thomas, open the door, and let the insides out. Gents," he saidsolemnly, when this was done, "I'm going to do what isn't a usualthing by no means, in fact, I ain't no precedence for doing it; butthen, I do not know any precedence for this here business altogether.I never did hear of a coachman standing up on his box to give a cheer,no, not to King George himself; but, then, King George never polishedoff two highwaymen all to himself, leastway, not as I've heard tellof. Now, these two young gents have done this. They have saved mycoach and my passengers from getting robbed, and so I'm going to give'em three cheers. I'll trouble you to help me up into the box seat,gentlemen."

  Assisted by the other passengers, the driver now gravely climbed upinto the box seat, steadied himself there by placing one hand uponthe shoulder of the passenger next him, took off his low-crowned hat,and said. "Follow me, gents, with three cheers for those young gentsstanding there; better plucked ones I never came across, and I'vetraveled a good many miles in my day."

  So saying, he gave three stentorian cheers, which were echoed by allthe passengers and villagers.

  Then there was a momentary silence, and Tom, who, with his brother,had been feeling very uncomfortable, although rather inclined tolaugh, seeing that he was expected to say something, said, "Thank youall very much; but we'd much rather you hadn't done it."

  Then there was a general laugh and movement, and a general pressingforward of the passengers to shake the boys by the hand. The driverwas assisted down from his elevated position, and got off the coachand came up to them. "That's the first speech I ever made, younggentlemen, and, if I know myself, it will be the last; but, you see,I was druv to it. You're a good sort, that's certain. What will youdrink?"

  The boys declared for beer, and drank solemnly with the driver,imitating him in finishing their mugs at a draught, and turning themtopsy-turvy. There was now a great deal of talking, and many questionswere asked. Tom and Peter modestly said that there was really nothingto tell. They saw that the gentleman next to them intended to use hispistols; but, not seeing a good opportunity, put them down behind thetarpaulin, and the thought occurred to them that, by slipping behindit, they would get a good chance of a certain shot. Accordingly, theyhad fired, and then the horse had run away; and there was an end ofit. There was nothing extraordinary in the whole matter.

  "At any rate, my boys, you have saved me from a loss of a coupleof hundred pounds which I had got hid in my boots, but which thosefellows would have been sure to have have discovered," one of thepassengers said.

  There was a general chorus of satisfaction at many watches andtrinkets saved, and then the first passenger went on,--

  "I propose, gentlemen and ladies, that when we get to the end of ourjourney we make a subscription, according to the amount we have saved,and that we get each of these young gentlemen a brace of the very bestpistols that can be bought. If they go on as they have begun, theywill find them useful."

  There was a general exclamation of approval, and one of the ladies,who had
been an inside passenger, said, "And I think we ought to givea handsome ring to their sister as a memorial through life. Of course,she had not so much to do as her brothers, but she had the courage tokeep still, and she had to run the risk, both of being shot, and ofbeing upset by the coach just as they did."

  This also was unanimously approved, and, after doing full justice tothe breakfast set before them, the party again took their places.Rhoda being carried down asleep, by the landlady, and placed in thecoach, one of the inside passengers getting out to make room for her,and she was laid, curled up, on the seat, with her head in a lady'slap, and slept quietly, until, to her astonishment, she was woke up,and told that she was in Marlborough.