# Joan, The Curate/Chapter 5

Lieutenant Tregenna was quite prepared to find the gentlemen at Hurst Court in a very merry mood, after the hours which they had spent at the dinner-table since his abrupt departure.
He sent in his message that his business was urgent, and chose to wait in the great hall, with the staghounds sniffing about his ankles, rather than have to discuss small-talk with the ladies, as the old butler wished him to do.
In a few minutes Squire Waldron, not very steady as to gait, or clear as to utterance, came out of the dining-parlor, followed by the brigadier, who was less coherent still.
The news of the murder of the coastguardsman, however, startled them both into sobriety; and the squire made less difficulty than Tregenna had expected about making out a warrant ​for the apprehension of the one man whom he had tracked down.
"What's his name, say you?" asked the squire, who had conducted his companions into the study, through the walls of which they could hear the stertorous snoring of the other guests, who had fallen asleep, whether upon or under the table Tregenna could only guess.
"I know only that he is called Tom," replied Tregenna, who remembered that the parson had uttered that name.
"Ah, then 'twill be 'Gardener Tom,' as they call him, as fine a lad as ever you clapped eyes on," almost sighed the squire, as he began to make out the warrant, not without erasures, in a decidedly 'after-dinner' handwriting. "Poor Tom, poor Tom! You will not have him moved to-night, general, and jolt a man in a fever across the marshes to Rye?"
"Egad, squire, since he will certainly be hanged, what signifies a jog more or less to his rascally bonesh?" retorted the brigadier ferociously.
The warrant made out, and the soldiers summoned from the servants' hall, where they had been regaled by the squire's command, the ​lieutenant and the brigadier took leave of their host, and started from the house without loss of time, Tregenna keeping pace on foot with the officer's charger, while the soldiers followed.
The brigadier was in the highest spirits, and was inclined to look down upon Tregenna's capture, and upon his methods of work.
"'S'no use, my lad, no mortal use," he said, laying down the law with vigor, and trying to sit straight upon the saddle so that his gesticulating arm should not overbalance him, "to try t' get on in anything without th' women! Now, I alwaysh make up to th' women!" he went on, with a wink and a roguish leer; "and they're going to pull me through thish time, as they've done a hundred timesh afore! Did you see me with that lass?" he went on, resting his hand upon his hip, and cocking his hat knowingly. "That lass that went up the village with me?"
"A decent-looking woman, that has the appearance of a farmer's wife or daughter?" said Tregenna, somewhat dryly.
"Ay, that's she. Name's Ann Price, keepsh house for her brother, who's a farmer living a little way inland yonder. Forget name of ​place. Squire told me all about her. Fine woman, sir; doosed fine woman; sh'perior woman, too, monstrous sh'perior. She's going to put me on the track of the beggars; took me up the hill, and showed me the way to one of their haunts, that she did, sir. Though in these parts one wouldn't have thought she'd ha' dared do it, sir; and she wouldn't if I hadn't known how to wheedle it out of her!"
"You don't think, general, she was playing you false?"
"False! No, sir. I'm too devilish artful to be played tricks with. No, sir; I played with her as a cat plays with a mouse, and led her on so far that she can't draw back. She is to come and see me at my quarters in Rye next market day, and—" he paused a moment to give a fatuous chuckle—"if I don't get out of her afore she goes back every damned thing I want to know, why, sir, then they may court-martial me for a d-d-d-damned blunderer, sir!"
Tregenna did not attempt to betray further his doubts as to the woman's good faith. But when they reached the angle where the road through the village was joined by the by-road ​up to the Parsonage, and he saw a woman's figure which he thought he recognized at the door of one of the cottages, he dropped behind, and let the brigadier, who had the warrant, and the soldiers, go up to the Parsonage without him.
As he had supposed, the woman who had attracted his attention proved indeed to be Ann Price, who now wore a long round cloak of full pleats, with a hood attached to it, and who appeared to be waiting for some one.
It was so dark by this time that the poor oil-lamp over the door of the little thatched inn opposite made a small patch of light in the miry roadway; into this patch, while the woman still stood waiting, and Tregenna watched her, came, reeling from the inn-door, a tall, brawny, muscular man, in a rough fisherman's dress, wearing on his head the long, knitted, tasseled cap of his kind. He had a couple of huge pistols stuck in his belt, which showed under the flaps of his loose, open coat; and his whole appearance betrayed the unmistakable fact that he was no peaceful seafarer, but an active participator in the contraband trade of the neighborhood.
​Crossing the road with an unsteady gait, and uttering the while a chuckling, coarse laugh, he made his way towards the woman, who, by a quick movement, avoided his close approach.
"Why, Ann, my lass, what's to do that thou'rt grown too nice to give a greeting to a friend, and thy cousin to boot? Is't for yon knave Tom thou'rt grieving? Ods life, but he's no fit match for thee; thou'lt never wed with a landsman, thou, when there's a better man ready, eh, lass?"
And with that he steadied himself, ran towards her, intercepted her as she would have gone through the alley between the cottages, and seized her roughly by the cloak.
"Coom, lass, no airs with me!" he said, in an angry tone, as she tried, to wrench her cloak away from his grasp. "Thou canst keep thy coyness for the soldier-chaps."
"Have done, Ben!" cried Ann, imperiously, but in a low voice. "Dost want to have the soldiers after thee? They're nigh enough!"
"What care I for the fules in red? or thou either, cousin Ann? Come, now, one kiss, lass, and I'll be gone."
Seeing that the man, who was a hulking ​rascal some six feet high, and broad in proportion, was plainly preparing to take by force what he could not get by coaxing, Tregenna hurried up to rescue the woman from her too persistent admirer.
To his surprise, however, before he came up with the disputants, Ann suddenly struck out with her right fist straight from the shoulder, caught the unsteady Ben unawares, and landed him flat on his back in the mud in the middle of the road.
"Well done!" cried Tregenna, involuntarily below his breath.
"Get up, Ben!" cried Ann, as it were apologetically, and without the least resentment. "Thou shouldst not ha' crossed me, lad."
Ben was sitting up, and swearing the most appalling oaths. Perceiving Tregenna, and hearing his ejaculation, he was seized with a sudden access of brutal ferocity; and with a yell of rage he clapped his hand to his belt, drew out one of the huge pistols he wore, and, pointing it at the lieutenant, would have fired at him, if Ann had not sprung into the middle of the roadway with astounding agility, and jerked up the weapon.
​"Up, up!" cried she, in a low voice; "up and begone. You must do no more mischief to-night."
Ben continued to swear, but he obeyed her, getting up slowly and with difficulty, and meekly suffering her to strip off his coat, which she put into his hands, telling him to get the hostess of the Frigate to cleanse it for him. This command also he took with docility; but once more catching sight of Tregenna as he turned to re-enter the inn, he shook his fist at him, and growled out something which sounded like a threat of settling arrears between them on some future occasion.
When he had disappeared within the hospitable doors of the Frigate, whence issued a great noise of singing, shouting, and hoarse laughter, Ann turned with some appearance of impatience to the lieutenant.
"Why are you not with your friends, the soldiers, searching the parson's house, yonder?" she asked shortly.
He did not tell her the truth, that he was suspicious of her, and was keeping watch on her movements, wondering for whom she was waiting. He only said—-
​"There are enough of them to perform that simple office. And I am loath to incommode Mistress Joan, by forcing upon her more intruders than can do the task there is to do."
"Nay, then, you should return to your ship, sir; for there be a wild sort of characters about to-night, and none too sober. Your person is known, too, and you may chance to get a bullet through you, which will further neither the king's cause nor your own, I reckon."
"I thank you for the advice, mistress," said Tregenna, who was more interested in this grave woman with the quiet manners, low voice, and tranquil air of authority, the more he saw of her. "But 'tis my business to carry my life in my hand; and truly the vicinity of a woman as quick of eye and ready of hand as yourself is as safe a one as I could wish."
But Ann Price shook her head. "I might not always be so fortunate," said she. "Besides, I must be stirring myself. I have another two miles to trudge to get to my mother's home."
"If my escort would be any protection to you, which, perhaps, you would deny, me-thinks 'twould be less hazardous than a walk across a wild road alone."
​Dark as it was; for the light given by the moon was as yet but faint, and the inn's oil-lamp scarcely threw its light so far as the place where they stood, Tregenna fancied he saw a smile on her face. She answered quite gravely, however—
"I shall not walk, I thank you, sir. I have a load of hay to take home; and yonder, as I think, comes the cart with it. I'll bid you a good-night, sir."
She was looking up the road, and listening, Tregenna heard the creaking of wheels; but he did not take her hint to retreat; he followed her, as she went to meet the cart, which was at that moment descending into the main street by a narrow lane behind the cottages on the right. He was suspicious of that cart with its load of hay.
There was a great difficulty in getting the heavy wheels out of the mire of the lane; and Ann hurried to the assistance of the young boy who was leading the horse. At the same moment, the brigadier, cursing loud and deep, came at a smart pace down the hill from the Parsonage.
"They've tricked us! They're a set of ​rascally thieves!" yelled he, as soon as he caught sight of Tregenna. "Your parson and his daughter are in league with the smugglers, damn them!"
"Why, what—what mean you, general?"
"We've searched the house, from garret to cellar; and devil a ghost of a smuggler is there in the place."
Tregenna glanced quickly from the brigadier to the hay-cart, which was just clear of the lane. As he did so, he was on the point of suggesting to the brigadier that he and his soldiers should follow that vehicle, when he was stopped by seeing Ann Price raise her arm, while, at the same moment, she hailed him in a clear voice—
"Sir, one moment! Will you come hither, sir?"
It was plainly Tregenna whom she addressed. It is doubtful whether the brigadier even recognized his charmer of the daylight hours, for the frown did not lift from his brows, neither did he salute her in any way.
Tregenna, with a word to his companion, returned quickly to the woman's side.
"Maybe, sir," said she, in the same low, ​level voice as before, "you would not mind if I use my sex's privilege, and beg you'll be so good as come with me as far as the ford. The roads be monstrous bad, and I've but this little lad with me, to help me at a pinch to get the cart along."
Tregenna assented at once; though by no means so confiding or so self-confident as the brigadier, and well aware that there was something rather uncanny, rather mysterious, about this woman who could fell a man like an ox while addressing him with lamb-like gentleness; he was too young, too full-blooded, not to relish the adventure, and was quite ready to face the danger into which she might lead him.
His first idea had been that the cartful of hay was merely a receptacle for contraband goods, and it had been his intention to make this suggestion to the brigadier. But this request on the part of the woman that he should accompany her on her drive, necessarily put that notion out of his head.
He got up beside her, the boy mounted behind, and they started on their journey. jogging through the miry, rutty roads at a snail's pace, with the lantern swinging on the ​off-side of the cart with every motion of the vehicle.
They went so slowly, and the cart was so uncomfortable from the lack of springs, that the journey would have been miserably tedious but for the interest Tregenna felt in the woman herself, an interest which increased tenfold as he listened to her conversation.
She was very frank, very straightforward, and made no more pretense than she had done to the brigadier of being shocked by the doings of the smugglers.
"They've been brought up to it like to a trade," said she, "and it's passed from father to son. And when duties be high, so I've heard say, the free-traders start up from the ground like to mushrooms. And look, sir, be they so much to blame as the folks that buy their goods from them, and that think no harm of getting goods cheap, seeing that, after all, defrauding a Government never seems like the same thing as defrauding a man? Governments doan't seem to be flesh and blood like to ourselves, do they, sir?"
"Well, maybe not. But still——"
"Still, it brings it home to us that 'tis a crime ​to smuggle when the king sends down a troop of redcoats to shoot us down, sir. Ah, yes, sir, I'm not defending 'em, though there's many a good-hearted lad among them; ay, and some of my own kin too, I'm main sorry to tell."
"Surely they'll not be so foolhardy as to continue in these ways, now that they must do it at such fearsome risk!" urged Tregenna.
"Nay, sir, I know not. But 'twould be a fair day for Sussex if you could but get the men to give it up, and to take to honester work again."
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the cart sank down into a small morass with such a jerk that Tregenna, less used to this type of vehicle than his companions, was all but precipitated into the road. At the same moment a slight groan from the back part of the cart struck upon his ears, and startled him considerably.
All at once it flashed into his mind that it was not a load of contraband tobacco and spirits, laces and silks that the hay was concealing, but the wounded smuggler Tom, who had eluded the brigadier, escaping by the back way from the Parsonage on the approach of the soldiers. Almost at the same moment he realized why it ​was that Ann Price had shown such a sudden desire for his own company. The artful woman had guessed his suspicions of herself and her load of hay, and had invited Tregenna to put him off the scent, and to avoid having her vehicle overhauled by the soldiers.
He took care not to betray, by word or sign, that he had heard that groan from the wounded man; he went on talking to Ann, getting her opinions on agricultural topics, which she gave with characteristic intelligence. And all the while he was congratulating himself that he should find out where Tom lived, and be able to follow him up and bring him to justice.
There was another thing that he wished to find out: whether the tipsy smuggler whom Ann Price had treated so cavalierly was the "Ben Bax" whose knife he had found beside the murdered coastguardsman. He put the question to her direct—
"Was that fellow who affronted you in the street yonder the man they call 'Ben Bax'?" he asked at the first convenient opening in their conversation.
But Ann, whether she knew the reason of his question or not, was cautious in her answer.
​"Maybe," she answered, as if indifferently, "there be plenty o' Baxes in these parts; they're in every village. I know not whether I ever heard yonder fellow called by any other name than 'Ben the Blast.'"
"He's a fisherman, I suppose, by his dress?" pursued Tregenna.
She gave him a straight look, turning her head stolidly towards him to do so.
"He's mate of a merchantman, I think," said she. "We don't see much of him up here, and we shouldn't mind if we saw less. He's a rough fellow, and free with his fists when he's in liquor."
"It seems you know how to manage him, however," said Tregenna.
Ann only smiled. And Tregenna, who saw that she meant to let him know no more, allowed the subject to drop.
They had by this time jogged some distance out of the village, and were descending a slope towards the river.
"We shall have to cross the water by the ford," said she. "You're not afraid, sir, to do it in the dark?"
"Not with you," answered Tregenna, ​promptly. "Have you much further to go, when the river is crossed?"
"Not above another mile," replied Ann. "And if you can't stay the night at the farm, sir, we can put you in the way of coming back by a path, a little higher up, where there's a ferry-boat to take you across."
"Thanks," replied Tregenna. "I wish I could avail myself of your hospitality, but I must return to my boat to-night."
They were descending the hill in the same jog-trot fashion, and were within a few yards of the river, which was flowing swiftly, and looked, Tregenna thought, somewhat perilous to negotiate, when Ann uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"Mercy on me!" cried she, in a tone of great annoyance, "if I haven't dropped my whip! And it'll need all the lashing I can give her to get the mare across, with the river running as swift as it does to-night."
She had reined in the animal, and was peering round in the road with anxious eyes.
"Did you mind, sir, when I had it last? Nay, nay, for sure you don't. You'd have spoken if you'd seen it drop. Would you hold ​the reins a moment, sir, while I go back up the hill in search of it?"
"Nay, I'll do that," replied Tregenna, readily. "I'll take the lantern."
He had unfastened the great clumsy thing from the side of the vehicle while he spoke, and had already begun his search. He had almost reached the crest of the hill before he found the whip, lying in a pool of mud under the hedge by the side of the road.
"Hey!" cried he, as he picked it up and cracked it in the air. "I've found it!"
As he turned, with the lantern in one hand, and the whip in the other, and looked down the hill towards the cart, he was astonished to see, by the light of the moon which had grown stronger since they started, the lad who had been at the back of the cart leap up to the seat beside Ann, with a long stick, cut from the hedge, in his hand.
The next moment, with a speed which, compared with her former jog-trot, was like that of an arrow from a bow, the mare was galloping towards the river, lashed unsparingly by her driver.
Pursuit was hopeless. Almost before Tre​genna had time to recognize that he had been tricked, the cart, swaying, splashing, dashing through little eddies of foam, was in the middle of the stream.
He ran a few paces, stumbling in the ruts of the road, and muttering uncomplimentary things of the high-spirited lady and all her sex. But, long before he reached his side of the river the cart had gained the other, and was galloping along the road at a pace which put all thoughts of overtaking it to flight.
Disgusted, furious, and vowing vengeance against both Ann and smuggler Tom, Lieutenant Tregenna dashed the lantern on the ground, flung the whip into the middle of the stream, and returned towards the shore as fast as possible, taking a byway to the cliffs, lest any of Ann's friends should see him, and rejoice at his discomfiture.