Evening star., 1924-05-12
CONTINUED from Yesterdays Starr

Ahead of them, and over to the east,
the firing blazed and cracked, volley
upon volley, to tell them that already
battle had been Joined in earnest.
Monmouth's surprise had aborted.
and 1t passed through WildingS mind
that to great extent he was to blame
for this but it gave him little care.
At least his indiscretion had served
The purpose of rescuing Ruth from
Lord Feversham's unclean clutches.
For the rest knowing that Mon
mouths army far outnumbered Fever
sham's, he had no doubt that the ad-
vantage must still lie with the duke,
in spite of Feversham's having been
warned in the eleventh hour.
Louder grew the sounds of battle.
chorus rose upon the night, startling
and weird In such a time and place.
Monmouth's pious infantry went into
action singing hymns, and Went
worth, impatient to be at his post,
oade his men go faster.
The night was by now growing
faintly luminous, and the deathly
gray light of approaching dawn hung
IN the mists upon the moor. Objects
grew visible in bulk at least. if not
IN form and shape, by the time the
Httle. company had reached the end
or weston village and come upon the
deep mud dyke which had been Went
worth's objective-a ditch that COM
municated with the great rhine that
served the kings forces so we'll on
that night of Sedgemoor.
within some twenty PAGES of this
w entWorth called a halt and would
nave had Wilding's hands pinioned
oehind him and his eyes blindfolded
might not be done. Wentworth was,
as we know. impatient; and between
lmpatience and kindness, perhaps,
ne acceded to Wilding's prayer.
He even hesitated moment at the
last. 1t was in his mind to speak
some word of comfort to the doomed
man. Then a sudden volley, more ter
rltc than any that had preceded it,
followed by hoarSe cheering away to
eastward. quickened his impatience.
He bade the sergeant lead Mr.. Wild
ing forward and stand him on the
edge of the ditch. His object was
that thus the mans body would be
disposed of without waste of time.
This Wilding realized, and his soul
rebelled against this fate which had
come upon him in the very hour when
he most desired to live. Mad thoughts
of escape crossed his mind-of a leap
across the dyke, and a wild dash
through the fog. But the futility
of it was too appalling. The mus
keteers were already blowing their
matches. He would suffer the igno-
miny of being shot in the back, like
a coward, if he made any such at
tempt.
And so, despairing but not resigned,
he took his stand on the very edge of
the ditch. In an irony of obligingness
he set half of his heels over the void,
so that he was nicely balanced upon
the edge of the cutting, and must go
backward and down into the mud
when hit.
1t was this position he had taken
that had given him an inspiration in
that last moment. The sergeant had
moved away out OF the line of fire, and
he stood there alone, waiting. erect
and with his head held high. his eyes
upon the gray mass of muSketeers-
blurred alike by mist and seml-dark-
nesS-some twenty PAGES distant along
the line of which glowed eight red
fuses.
Wentworth's voice rang out with
the words of command:
BLOW your matches"
Brighter CLEANED the points of light
and under their steel pots the faces
of the muSketeerS, Suffused by dull
red glow. sprang for moment out
of the gray mass. to fade once more
into the general grayness at the word,
Cock your Matches
Guard your pans.' came a second
later the captains voice, and then:
"PreSentr'
There was a stir and rattle. and the
dark. indistinct figure standing on
the lip of the ditch was covered by
the eight muskets. To the eyes of
the firing party he was no more than
a blurred shadowy form, showing a
little darker than the encompassing
dark gray.
Give fire."
On the word Mr.. Wilding lost the
delicate, precarious balance he had
been sustaining on the edge of the
ditch, and went over backward. at the
imminent risk-as he afterWard re
Iated-of breaking his neck. At the
same instant jagged, eight-pointed
line of flame slashed the darkness.
and the thunder of the volley pealed
forth to lose itself in the greater din
of battle on Ponzoy Pound, hard by.
YYHI