The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1901-09-24
THE GUIDE.
A Tale Of III Time When the Duke Of
Monmouth Claimed the
British Throne.

deed know the way among these cursed
bikes and bitches of Sedgemoor as well
as the wine pot knows the way to my
mouth?" The other nodded. "Hold up
the torches there and let me see this
springald's face"
guide stood looking at each other in ST.
lence for a long minute. They were in
differently well matched in height and
In personal comeliness, and Sergeant
Thomas Dove noticed with a tinge Of
surprise that the eyes of both young
men were of a curious yellow color, like
the eyes of hawks.
The would be guides straight young
limbs were clad all in duffel gray, and
q frieze cap vas pulled well over a
forehead too white for a countfyman's,
while Anthony Grace's tall figure was
wrapped in a scarlet cloak whose gay
coloring part hid and part accumulated
the worn leather of his jerkin and the
ragged lace crayat about his throat.
"You have feet, sirrah." Anthony
Grace said sharply. 81 IA see for my
self. Does it happen to you to have a
tongue as wellY
aye, captain"
"And you know these rhines that you
would guide us among them? You
know them-well?"
"Aye. l know them"
"Dove. my horse, and lead up your
troop closely and quietly as may be.
Now, friend, We'll test your skill, but
If you think to play will-o'-the-wisp
among these rhines bear in mind that
I have a naked sword in my hand. Dost
understands"
AYE. Please you to mount, captain,
for presently the moon will be up, and
we can walk safer in darkness"
"Egad, but | and White Bess can
not" muttered Anthony Grace, a few
minutes later, as he and his troop toll
ed and 1oundered over the t~reacherous
moor after the silent guide. cart sure
Of the way, sirrah? 'Sdeath! Who shows
q light yonder"
"Will-o'-the-wisp, captain; come to
lure you away" said the guide, with a
low laugh. land drown you in a mud
hole and take your soul into his COM
pany. Mistress Grace will wait you
long"
''There is no Mistress Grace, fool"
Anthony Grace said irritably. Peace
now with your chatter"
"There is no peace in England now,
Captain Grace; only a drawn sword.
Please you, have a care with your
\ ho,eo fo. Io,o ,,a ~, ,1,, ~ l..-
rhines'-
"Ten thousand curses!" said Anthony
Grace in a fierce whisper as his mare
suddenly plunged. struggled and slip
ped down the steep bank of a ditch and
he had to throw himself in haste from
the saddle just in time to avoid a fall.
whittier have you brought US, fool?
White Bess hath broke her leg"
"Well. and'what matter"
"Hist! Not SO loud, my cockerel!'
And Anthony Grace brought the fat of
his sword down sharply on the lads
shoulder. Hast gone crazy"
"What matter, l say| And the
guides voice rose to a shrill cry. "What
matter. Captain Grace, If a mares leg
VI q iloh "hGSA VI u lidlu . ueuIl UC
broken for King Monmouth? And If /
I'M a cockerel l will crow, since the day
Is so near though | crow no more for
ever. A Monmouth! A Monmouth!
Mon Anthony Grace's sword cut
the word in two.
"Gad," cried Sergeant Dove. pressing
forward. forgetful for the moment of
discipline, 1--WE have walked into a trap,
captain! We are nigh upon the enemy's
camp. sir. l can hear the stir of pick,
eted horses. Hark all! Shall l bid
sound the recall. captain? They have
heard or seen us yonder."
Then a bugle in the kings camp rams
shrilly out in the call to arms, and the
little troop of Monmouth's men drew
closely together and stood steady, ex.
pecting an instant attack. The moon
had shaken herself free Of her clouds
now, and her uncanny silver flooded
the rhines. showing up in sharp relief
the dark figures of Monmouth's pike
men and the shelving ground before
the troop, where their captain stood
looking down with dazed eyes at the
slim figure lying at his feet.
my God" he said, staring at the
tossed yellow hair that had fallen will
the fallen cap and lay round the up
turned face like q frame of carved golC
setting a great pearl. ut is Jennet Ash
ton, and have killed her!!"
mo" the false guide gasped, "Kinl
Monmouth. he, killed me first, Tony
All. Tony. thy sword Anthony
Grace snatched up his fallen swort
and broke it iercely in two, but tn,
girl only laughed feebly. "Thy sword
Tony, was kinder than King Nor
mouths kisses. And-and-was it no
"a rare jest, Tony"
So subtle and so sharp a Jest that FOL
its sake Anthony Grace threw his lif,
away next morning soon after day
, break among the rhines of Sedgemoor