The Master of Merripit Farm

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 28, 1 February 1913, Page 20

The Master of Merripit Farm

BY EDEN PHILPOTTS (_i_-fr.or of "The Three BroihcrsT' "'The American-Prisoner," -The Beacon* etc)

ST"Nj'l-sis OF TNSTALJiIRVrS 1.-T.— I i ft» t-_cat_f_l Snrah Rowland, courted by I ; .1'::l I'oole, a yuunp farmer, and by Saul < npj—<=tor_. the H--ai innkeeper, promises ::.l: Fbe will marry the mac who brings I < 1 iTiprif-e. some h:urfa-£y who are ' t-rr"T-i=in_ th<- whole countryside. The fci-Lwsrmen attempt !•-■ break mn at Walna ' ■wr.er :-o_s Copleston ana' >'oole are there. -* bnt ride off or seeinjr tbe nien Koth men ( £r- -i. their mettle, but CoplestoD is a i-TE-p—rt. while Goole is resourceful and ' reidi-wirtedL. Tbe two men quarrel, and .' ?._':: Lttacfcs <"oole. One day ns Sanh t p,ow:ET)d is dririn- T0 market with her . pr-nGfarber. the nrebwaymen. two brothers, rh-rlie _n_ I'rabb Spring:, meet them and 3 r~,ff ft* :he-_ "deliver up" John < 'oore saves ""rristina Rev. land from the attack of a , belt Mepirwhiie John Corte has worked •' or.T c plan to take the bi-hw_ym<"n. He : meets them on the hiiis and tells them he i e tired of iife. asKin- them to help him to rcT-ence himself or: his rival. They make ' an appointment with him. and he guides 1 -__tt to the "Kn_ and Hounds."' CHAPTER VI. 4 LrTTT-j; LOSS r.F .VERVE. Two bo—rs on the same ni-2*nt. Sau. i 'oplestor, to-ok the chair at a meeting which he had himself convened. TTT'-re were present a dozen men. in- '• ckr_nir Dennis Rowianc. and one 6<^: r e ' actuated tbe company. As their leader, saul behar-ec. in a mom lordly manner. The drink w-a« free, and since lie i -was Tirepared to defrsr the cost of the expedition now seriously planned against . the ' the corn-pan-,- pa.d him all dtie deference and itself quite ready and -willing fo act under his leadershirj"lf lies in a nut-hell, hoy-." sa.id the • innkeeper to the dozen tough, hard-rid-inc men he had chosen for this business. . "I've _ot most to gain out of this jo*>. and so I'm pre-pa.re\i t>» ?-.ak f - most. The guineas offerea for these- V.<_:kguards. Ofic or alive, you e_n shar" amemg you. i ; we succeed, an-c if »f do not. I pay a]' _«__ages to man or My everybody knows; Tre got an axe to frrrnc : but in the case of yc-u fellows, there's nothing bin the honour and glory and the credit of Dartymoor if we win. !Not a man here want-s the "in country" to have the iscg-ti us. I reckon: and ::" above a dozen of us shurp blad-es, cat; run dewn a couple of strang-ej ■frxpi in the oper.. we must have forgo- a Jot. There's no shadow of doubt that tie;-- >c harbouring tn the Xorr_h of the Forest, and if you tell o-ve-r a . score of farms, 'tis an— odds you'll he : nunrberinc the one that's helping 'em: so what I say is to start a spy system.' wat-ct es-ery .pla?e in turn, unknown toi the p-wn-ers. and when we've marked 'em down, -wait for the right moment and: dig >m otrt of their earth." "There's xn-ore'n fifty farms." -raid a | lantern-javr-ed man with 'bushy whiskers j and bright -eyes under heavy brows." | "No. Parker, there air."t—not fifty [ farms from -which they'd choose. They wouldn't show around the villages. Tis the ioneiy places—and the new-takes right out in the Moor, with nought but a cart mack to "em. that they'd be like to fancy." ■'Such as Harxer. on East Oketnenti Hirer, or Me_herill. aiove Cbagford. or Batwjrt3iy on Teign." suggefsted another man. "Exa-ctlv so: fetch in the -beer. r>avid." said -N_ui. "And what we've got to do be to keep a night watch on _-»eh and all I o: 'em: then we shal! soon find out ( where the men -be hid," "Most of their work be _M t-iat side of. the Moor, and fur that vt-1- reason they' may have their holt down here some-j wheres." argued Parker. B--rt the sense i of the co32B~_ny was against diis theory, j "TheyTl keep over there—'tis the | easiest way out."' declared an old man. I "I" they be smoked there, they can away to north or west — i o the Cornish moors, or else to Esemoor. But they won't be gone yet. ii they can berp it. They'm doing a darned sight too wen." "I wouidn't trust th-e NoTth Quarter men fttrther than I could see 'em. whether or no." declared a big man with a oush of a "neard and long unkempt hair upon his s_io_l_srs. "They'm a tricky lot. and I never have no market dealing] -with >->ne of "em if I can -help it. ISo [ good comes from the North." "They're done you. Timothy White?"' "Yes. that they have: and would asain if I was to gire ~lfi_a the chance," answered the famner. __ Then beer and talk fiowed. in the course of which -Saul planned a vigil, and a dozen men were toild off for the following night to wat-ch a dozen Tfarms. ~T"sTi do it all reg-Jar and -busines-5 like." explained Copleston. "*We must be in our places, snug hid. so soon as night be down. .Not too near must we hide, but near enough to mark if any go after dark and come back afore morning. But they ban"t feared to move by <_ay sometimes, as your lather knows to his cost. Rowland —so the watchers must "aide hid. so well as they can. till the sun he up. Well ail meet here the nest night and hear if any man's got a bit of news." The plan was agreeable to his listeners : the names of a dozen farms were dropped into Timothy 'White* hat and each man drew at a vent-ure. They drank again, matured details of their scheme, and parted. That any element of danger lurked in the vigil none suspected. To Saul's rrra lot had lalrlen Tehm Head Farm, a spot isolated ind-eed. in the heart oi tbe Moor, where dwelt a shepherd of whom no man spoke any good thing. The place lay several rnih-s from the "Fox and Horrnds." and wss arpproaiched c~ct the heights of Srt-__ford Tor. The company presently re-turned from San.}'? parlour «o the bar. where Constable Brimblecom-be. Ned. the coney ca-cher. Jack. the miner. and other k«eal men listened with deep interest "o the line ot attack. Ja-:rk indeed •was enlisted, and when Copleston'? little regiment had disbanded, he turned to the big man and spoke. "I've long wanted to reward you. •tack, for your line of conduct when Mater ,-amnrv Hurrell forgot himself in this bar a bit ago. and bade you attack mc. Very properly you refused. for what had I done! No more than bring to that rude chap, .lohn Coole. But you stood for the right on that occasion, and to show ro-u I -was pleased with you. Fll let you help us to catch the Twins." "Anc get a bullet in my guts? Thank you for nought. Innkeeper." "If you're feared, don'i. come: if you're brave and like the thought oi _akinj your share of the yrilo/w-'bovs. •when we catch these -raxuxurts, _ben tto, can join mc to-morrow night, and j'tis Teign Head _t_rt they h_,ri>o_T in Tor _m- T <_rt I ___ak it Tngsg than Ekeh <__a- w« «a___ be the tacky ones, ami £ e____=e -ff-red, >we might wm eovsrtnrBeives ■____ aad tafce tlhe dog iE-__Br-_C--__cTtßO___ri___D

__ tl two of them, and if we was on em like j d tigers, at some corner afore they knew o it. we'd have 'em did-Ued and done aiore a ther knew who' struck -"em," _ Jack was impressed by this offer, a? j well he might be. He thanked Saul y verr h-eart-i}" ior such an opiportunity to distinguish himself, and promised _or | r await the master oi the "Fox and I Hound?" on the io'llo-wrng evening at t certain lonely stones known as the "Grey Wethers." perched high on Sitta- , 1 lord's wild -bosom. "' Creep there as you can." directed | - Saul. "■ Keep out of view all you know. |c' and hide in the gul!ie=- if you sight it j ' soul. Ii! be up orer after dusk, and we'll i i drop down on Teign Head by way of the j x r.'ver. HI fetch a brave. doua>)e-barrelied : * pistol for you. and if we find 'em and ■ = : :i-re's any fight shown, don": you hesi- ! " :a:e to let fly. They be outlaws, and the , man that ?iay.- em be doing the State a Overwhelmed with this <rrca: adven-!' ture. honest ."a<-k went his way. and I | after a few word- with David Selleck. ' Copleston r-nut up h-is :iou-e and retired to re-t. He could not sleep, however, for thinking on the Twins. Hi? sanguine • spirit held them a- good ;..~ caught, and ' ihe :nr.aif cowardice that had made l him seek a companion in the forthcoming watcu hy night, saul explained away to hi- .-ou without a ciuairr-.. H.s was obviously the post of greatest danger: wha" ' more natural, then, for the sake of menterprise and the other men involved in it. that he should take a special pre- \ caution! He v.-as bravp by fits _nJ starts. H" began to count his chickens before they were hatched-, he was actually laughing at a possible triumph' when came the summon; from below, and i he star Tea up to near, as it seemed, the j voice of Great-grandfather Rowland. "' Wel! met. host." saia Charlie, when Coole shut the door. ""My faith, but ] hast an a<rue ? Tis the jump out of your i warm bed. 11l warrant. Lead the wai- j to the bar. We're three thirsty men." For a moment >au! _aired tie way. t "I bid you be irone!" he said. "This! ii- no time to— —" " Come. com", master, don't prattle. . Ytai know a- well enough. I'll warrant. | 'Or must we tell you your luck? *Tisn't I given to every man to toast Charlie | Spring and his brother. Crabb. to their faces. Get on to your bar. or well go | without you." | The big man hesitated, and. as he did ' i so. t.'rabb Spring lifted hi< hand and j I smote him across tbe face. ! "Learn manners, you Dartmoor dog!" :he said. " Light up your candles and j kick up yonr fire. or. by the Lord, we'll | l put a match to your fine nest and bum j it to the ground." Saul fell back, but he laid no finger on | them. His face was very white, save for j the red mark that Crabb'S hand had set there. Above on the stairs a board I creaked, and. as Copleston marched into 1 his bar. David Selleck rushed down and | hurled himself on the last of the party. He fought bravely for an unarmed man: but Crabb turned iike lightning, and before John Coole was cl<»ar. he had hit David across the head with the butt end j Jof a pistol, and stretched him senseless,. | "What fool is that?" he asked: but' I ,lohn held up his finger. It wa« under- I ' stood that he should speak no word. ! ! Saul Cople-ton lighted a great swinging j j lamp in his bar. and the robbers swiftly ■ | saw that their accomplice had not lied, j Here were the candle-ticks of Sheffield I plate, a good trinket or two behind the | | bar in a glass case, and the famous cup I -,nd belt that had been promised them. , ! -• Your man :.- bra-rpr than you. inn- ■ : keeper. He at least has got a cracked j crown for his pains." said Crabb. "' We'll | have him in here to join the fun—else . he might go forth and ride away on our j horses." ; A moment later be dragged the unfor- | -tunate David into the 'bar. and dropped bim like a log on the floor of it. :j "' Don't fear he's dead." iie said. " He'll 11 be none the worse in a week. And now. your best bottle. Master. 11l warrant i 'j such a fine fellow has a special tap fori lj his own drinking." Copleston looked helplessly upon his j I foes. The two smaller men aumgiiim like | ?' wasps, sneered at his cowardice, chaffed; 1 ; his pro-perity. Their companion preserved -j a stony sßence. On the ground lay David j SeDeck still senseless; above stairs wai »jone old woman, Saul's grandmother. MHe stared about him: but his knees s| were knocking together and he en- ? 1 vied the unconscious man on the ground, ' ! " We heard tou was the most valiant s ii-hap in the West Country." said C'rabb. . " But rou're not even pot-raliant: come. *"■ let's taste your tipple. Maybe you"i! "1 put a braver face on your Troubles, my ' . told hero, w hen you've had a draw. And this plucky toad here, as did his link? ' i be=t—hell want a drop when he comes He kicked David gently as he spoke, as , though he were a dead pig. Then -te-adied his tongue, thouch his leg- he could not steady, and ap- . pealed to the Twins. " For God's sake, kind gentlemen, don't be hard on a poor raap who's got much ado to live. The best in my poor cellar rou be welcome 10. and my savings, if rou must —twenty pound all told; 'but i don't hit a man too hard. I'm a sporting j blade, and I might be useful to you ; many a time. I'll be your friend, jf you'll let mc. and help you agamst the 2 rich." " Tis just what we want, my boy." said r Charlie. " We're out for friends, mc and j my brother. Tis quite a puzzle to us .. wbv people won't be friendly: and I'm z Ter y glad that you offer friendship. Let's = see the size of it. Brandy's our tipple, -i so fetch atong the best you've got. and tel! us the story of yonder fine cup in the i, glass case." Saul hastened to open a bottle of n brandy" as they bade him. and while he i did so he spoke of the trophy, r "" "Tis of no value, save to mc. And a a- brace of sportsmen like you would be the [ last to take it from mc. My father ■- handed it to mc on his deathbed. He won 5 it. and the belt also. 2 "Pour tbe brandy in the cup. then. and well drink round to your father's i health wherever he is!" said Charlie. "And let's look at the belt also. Twil! f fit my brother and mc like a glove —if we >i both get in it 1 reckon." s. Charlie walked behind the bar and posu sessed 'himself of the treasures, it "' Solid silver, innxeeper. Tis very a. rash in you to leave these things in a iy puhiichouse. where any rogue nrrght lay *f his claws on 'em." r " "' Very rash indeed." said Crabb. " "You js can't value them. Tis -clear you don't t» care a rush about 'em."

'" A heaj-Uess devil yon mast be," vd_ted Charlie. ■ V crar fine farther -wins .hese things hy the rweat oi his brow. md you jus, leave 'em for anybody to Dinah. _vt> good man -would ever have j lone it, and Fm ashamed of you." " Fill up."' cried Orab"b. " Pour in. and low a drop of water and round she roes!" He drank and handed it t-o Charlie: then ix was Johns turn, and finally tbe unhappy owner of the cup was made to drink from it- Meanwhile Charlie pu; on the belt sideways over his shoulder md looked at -himself in the glass over the chimDev-piece. " Tis what I've been wanting all these ; years to make a man of mc!" he cried. Crabo turned to D_vid. who began to • recover. ~ Hand tbe cup to mc." he said. "' Here".- j ibis poor worm turning at last." j He made Mr Selleck sit up. supported j him. and care him a drink. "Good luck to you," he said. "' You j did your best. You tried to save yonder : cowardly hulk. But his time ha? <ome. We've heard of him and his rascalities and hi- bra.gging and his non-er.se. A man with the body of an elephant an.! the soul of a lou-se. Well, his soul shall j set out after his father —to carry the last new-." He pulled out a pistol. ~ Be a man for once." he said to Sau'. •• Tis the la-: chance that ever you'll gel. ■ so take it i? you can." "That's ritrht —die game!'" added Charlie. I ""Don't —don't —take my life." begged, Copleston. "Think what it can serve ! you to have another dead man on you: 'conscience. l"or your hope of heaven ! ccn'i kill rue!' "Ou on your knee-." commanded Crabb j "Go on \our knees, here in the midst ol the floor, and make your peace. You're a ra-sral and seil bad liquor and grind the face of the poor. You bully th" weak and cringe to the strong. "A eve heard all about your "blaekzuard trick.. Your hour has come." -i'.oa judge mc if I've ever doDe any ros_n a wrong, or sold bad beer, or Treated a poor man ill. I'm poor myself." "You're a liar. We'll hear no more." Crabb cocked bis pistol and pointed it at Saul, who exhibited the very fren_y of unreasoning terror. He grovelled and he screamed. "Spare mc: spare my harmie--,. innocent life. I'll do anything 1 can—everything. Take my goods, but spare my be too young to die. I've done you no evil, but always -poke up for you and praised your rare courage and manhood." "We don"t shoot men lyin£ down." said Crabb. "Charlie. here* a lily-livered thing, like you. and he's at mc to give you another chance. Fork out. then. and you shall keep your cur's life. I'd : sooner shoot you first and take your j .-tuff afterwards, but he's for letting rou live. So be it. Gel up., you u-hin . ing wretch: hand out your money and ! your goods." i ' But Saul appeared to be petrified: his i volition had vanished. He still knelt. "spare me —spare my life. I'm on j your sid». I've always said you was a j brace of heroes." he repeated. 1 The highwaymen thrust into the bar. ! pulled open a till, emptied a cash-box and carried away the candlesticks of Sheffield plate. They rummaged through the drawers and a desk behind them. They thrust all that they could carry into their pockets. Meanwhile C-ooie waited, patient, silent, motionless, beside the door and watched his unhappy enemy's panic terror. He blushed for all manhood to see Saul Copleston thus j reduced by fear lo the level of a lunatic. Tbe Twins cam' 1 and went; they poured scorn and insult on their victim. I thrust the muzzle of a pistol in his face. ! kicked him, spat on him. Then they j took a pair of stag's horns from a naii ; upon the wall, tied them on the mnkecp ■■ er's head with his nightcap and ordered I him to dance. He obeyed, and while he i did so his grandmother, an old woman i of seventy, appeared at the door of the ' bar. She was scantily clad, with her ! grey hair about her neck and a ?hawi ] wrapped round her shoulders. Coole. long since heartily sick of the ; scene, felt fear that tbey would insult | the aged woman, for both men were ] drunk and were in reckless spirits: but Ihe did not know them, and even when | .lane Copleston. enraged at tbe sight oi I her grandson dancing like a bear in his i own bar. ax_aeked the Twins rigorously 1 with her tongue- they did not respond save with chaff and laughter. But the I scene was not destined to last much longer: Crabb and his brother had left no corner nnsearched. and they Don began to fling their spoils into a sack I which Charlie dragged from behind tbt bar. l__si to be flung into it was tb« Championship Cup. after Crabb had emp tied the little liquor that was left upor Saul's head, "1 anoint you King of Cowards!" h« said. "I've seen some poltroons in mv time: but a man who clung closer to hi; own worthless life 1 never yet did see Tis a scandal that a champion's belt anc mp should be in your bands; though hf was your father, and never more shal rou boast 'em. Nothing of value shouic home with you. and I'm right sorrj you've got a brave man and womai under your roof. Granny here is shamec of you. Good night, my lady! You'vi spoilt yonder lout, or else his motbe: did. No more than food for wormsbetter under ground than on it."* Charlie signalled to Coole to lead th< ' way out of the bar. and then the bro thers followed him. Grandmother Copleston followed t< tbe door aDd cursed them until the? 1 reached their horses; then all three rod' away until well beyond sound of he: : j tongue and sight of the "Tox ani ■ i Hounds." - ; A waning moon was now in the sky 1 I and already tbe first faint shadow o f j another dawn fringed the eastern hills - The highwaymen prepared to tak ; leave of Coole. and both were in a merr; 1 humour. i 1 "Well, friend, your part was proper]; 5 ! played. and what dost think of ours? i I asked Charlie. = j "A marvel —a miracle. The man ha- .'' sharp sauce, yet who shall say he di i j not deserve it? You have done wha ? ; you promised, and are paid for it." 1 ' "'We grant that: and now. farewel ; ' Maybe your life will be better worth lit a j ing when you hear your enemy tell hi | tale to-morrow." , I "IS tell it he can." added Crabb. 'T> imv certv. "twouid not much amaze m j to' hear his wits have fled. I have see: I men curl up like woodlice a: the touch c 1 a pistol's cold nose before to-night: bu ; n <.rer such a craven thing a? that." ' i The same idea had occurred to Job " I Coole. " j "Pie was like one out of his mind, ir ' I deed," he said, 1 i "fine daft man more or less is no inai ter." answered Charlie. "Ay.d now far; " well. "Twras a rare play, and "tis planout. Bide here till you hear, our horse: * feet no more, then go your rear an i think upon us kindly for a pair of wel f meaning men. misunderstood by th j herd we prey on." : I Coole lifted his hat gravely to there, t I "Good-night," he said, "I shall nc j forget you."

They gralloped off. and soon, by the j sudden cease of sound, be knew thax tbey i _ had left the road and taken to the Moor. 1 They -would doubtless turn anon to Fur | Tor and rhe springs of Tavy, then pur- , c sue the river to their secret burrows j at Ea-ttlebrook Farm. j 'They're right.*' he said to himself. | _ * Twas a rare play. But tbeyre -wrong c to tliink 'tis played out. To-night be but the first art. There's others yet to J - come." He turned his -weary horse, and was' at Merripit by cock-iio-bt. (To be continued on Saturday next.) i jj