The Surprising Adventures of Sir Toady Lion with Those of General Napoleon Smith

by S. R. Crockett

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  TOADY LION'S SECOND LONE HAND.

  Edam Water ran swiftly, surging and pushing southward on its way tothe sea. It was brown and drumly with a wrack of twigs and leaves,snatched from the low branches of the hazels and alders which fringedits banks. It fretted and elbowed, frothing like yeast about thelanding-place from which the two boat-loads were to set out for theattack.

  General Napoleon Smith, equipped with sword and sash, sat in the sternof the first, in order to steer, while Prince Michael O'Donowitchstood on the jetty and held the boat's head. The others sat still intheir places till the General gave the word. The eager soldiery ventedtheir feelings in a great shout. Cissy Carter took her place with aflying leap just as the rope was cast off, and the fateful voyagebegan.

  At first there was little to be done save in the way of keeping thevessel's head straight, for the Edam Water, swirling and brown withthe mountain rains, hurried her towards the island with almost toogreat speed. With a rush they passed the wide gap between theunsubmerged stones of the causeway, at which point the boldest heldhis breath. The beach of pebbles was immediately beyond. But they werenot to be allowed to land without a struggle; for there, directly ontheir front, appeared the massed forces of the enemy, occupying thehigh bluff behind, and prepared to prevent the disembarkation by adesperate fusillade of stones and turf.

  It was in this hour of peril that the soldierly qualities of theleader again came out most strongly.

  He kept the boat's head straight for the shore, as if he had beengoing to beach her, till she was within a dozen yards; then with aquick stroke of his steering oar he turned her right for the willowcopses which fringed the island on the eastern side. The water hadrisen, so that these were sunk to half their height in thequick-running flood, and their leaves sucked under with the force ofthe current. But behind there was a quiet backwater into which HughJohn ran his vessel head on till she slanted with a gentle heave up onthe green turf.

  "Overboard every man!" he cried, and showed the example himself bydashing into the water up to the knees, carrying the blue ensign ofhis cause. The enemy had not expected this rapid flank movement, andwaited only till the invaders had formed in battle array to retreatupon the castle, fearful perhaps of being cut off from theirstronghold.

  General-Field-Marshal Smith addressed his army.

  "Soldiers," he said, "we've got to fight, and it's dead earnest thistime, mind you. We're going to lick the Smoutchies, so that they willstay licked a long time. Now, come on!"

  This brief address was considered on all hands to be a model effort,and worthy of the imitation of all generals in the face of the enemy.The most vulnerable part of the castle from the landward side wasundoubtedly the great doorway--an open arch of some six feet wide,which, however, had to be approached under a galling cross fire fromthe ports at either side and from the lintel above.

  "It's no use wasting time," cried the General; "follow me to thedoor."

  And with his sword in his hand he darted valiantly up the steepincline which led to the castle. Cissy Carter charged at his leftshoulder also sword in hand, while Mike and Peter, with Gregory'sMixture and the Craw Bogle, were scarcely a step behind.

  Stones and mortar hailed down upon the devoted band; sticks and clodsof turf struck them on their shoulders and arms. But with their teethclenched and their heads bent low, the storming party rushedundauntedly upon their foes.

  The Smoutchies had built a breast-work of driftwood in front of thegreat entrance, but it was so flimsy that Mike and his companionskicked it away in a moment--yet not before General Smith, light as ayoung goat, had overleaped it and launched himself solitary on thefoe. Then, with the way clear, it was cut and thrust from start tofinish.

  First among the assailants General Smith crossed swords with the greatNipper Donnan himself. But his reserves had not yet come up, and so hewas beaten down by three cracks on the head received from differentquarters at the same time. But like Witherington in the ballad, hestill fought upon his knees; and while Prince Michael and Gregory'sMixture held the enemy at bay with their stout sticks, the strickenHugh John kept well down among their legs, and used his sword fromunderneath with damaging effect.

  "Give them the point--cold steel!" he cried.

  "Cowld steel it is!" shouted Prince Michael, as he brought down hisblackthorn upon the right ear of Nipper Donnan.

  "Cauld steel--tak' you that!" cried Peter Greg the Scot as he let outwith his left, and knocked Nosey Cuthbert over backwarks into the hallof the castle.

  Thus raged in front the heady fight; and thus with their faces to thefoe and their weapons in their hands, we leave the vanguard of thearmy of Windy Standard, in order that for a little we may follow thefortunes of the other divisions.

  * * * * *

  Yes, divisions is the word, that is to say Billy Blythe's gipsydivision and--Sir Toady Lion.

  For once more Toady Lion was playing a lone hand.

  So soon as Prissy and he had been left behind, we regret to be obligedto report that the behaviour of the distinguished knight left much tobe desired.

  "Don't be bad, Toady Lion," said his sister, gently taking him by thehand; "come and look at nice picture-books."

  "Will be bad," growled Toady Lion, stamping his little foot inimpotent wrath; "doan want t' look at pitchur-books--want to go andfight! And I will go too, so there!"

  And in his fiery indignation he even kicked at his sister Prissy, andthrew stones after the boat in which the expedition had sailed. Thegipsy division, which was to wait till they heard the noise of battleroll up from the castle island before cutting loose, took pity on SirToady Lion, and but for the special nature of the service required ofthem, they would, I think, have taken him with them.

  "That's a rare well-plucked little 'un!" cried Joe Baillie. "See howhe shuts his fists, and cuts up rough!"

  "A little man!" said the leader encouragingly; "walks into hissister's shins, don't he, the little codger!"

  "Let me go wif you, please," pleaded Toady Lion; "I'll kill youunless!--Kill you every one!" And his voice was full of bloodshed.

  "Last time 'twas me that d'livered Donald, when they all runned awayor got took prisoner; and now they won't even take me wif them!"

  Billy regretfully shook his head. It would not do to be cumbered withsmall boys in the desperate mission on which they were going. The hopewas forlorn enough as it was.

  "Wait till we come back, little 'un," he said kindly; "run away andplay with your sister."

  Toady Lion stamped on the ground more fiercely than ever.

  "Shan't stop and play wif a girl. If you don't let me come, I shallkill you."

  And with sentiments even more discreditable, he pursued their boat aslong as he could reach it with volleys of stones, to the great delightof the gipsy boys, who stimulated him to yet more desperate exertionswith cries of "Well fielded!" "Chuck her in hard!" "Hit him with a bigone!" While some of those in the stern pretended to stand shaking indeadly fear, and implored Toady Lion to spare them because they wereorphans.

  "Shan't spare none--shall kill 'oo every one!" cried the angry ToadyLion, lugging at a bigger stone than all, which he could not liftabove three inches from the ground.

  "Will smass 'oo with this, Billy Blythe--bad Billy!" he exclaimed, ashe wrestled with the boulder.

  "Oh, spare me--think of my family, Toady Lion, my pore wife andchilder," pleaded Billy hypocritically.

  "'Oo should have finked of 'oo fambly sooner!" cried Toady Lion,staggering to the water's edge with the great stone.

  But at this moment the noise of the crying of those warring for themastery came faintly up from the castle island. The rope that had beenpassed through the ring on the landing-stage and held ready in thehand of Billy Blythe, was loosened, and the second part of thebesieging expedition went down with the rushing spate which reddenedEdam Water. And as they fell away Billy stood up and called for threecheers for "little Toady Lion, the best m
an of the lot."

  But Toady Lion stood on the shore and fairly bellowed with impotentrage, and the sound of his crying, "I'll kill 'oo! I'll kill 'oodead!" roused Janet Sheepshanks, who was taking advantage of hermaster's absence to carry out a complete house-cleaning. She left theblanket-washing to see what was the matter. But Toady Lion, angry ashe was, had sense enough to know that if Janet got him, he would besuperintended all the morning. So with real alacrity he slipped asideinto the "scrubbery," and there lay hidden till Janet, anxious thather maids should not scamp their house-work, was compelled to hurryback to the laundry to see that the blankets were properly washed.

  After this there was but one thing to do, and so the second division,under Sir Toady Lion, did it. He resolved to turn the enemy's flank,and attack him with reinforcements from an entirely unexpectedquarter. So, leaving Prissy to her own devices, he took to his heels,and his fat legs carried him rapidly in the direction of the town ofEdam. Difficulties there were of course, such as the barrier of thewhite lodge gate, where old Betty lay in wait for him.

  But Toady Lion circumnavigated Betty by going to the lodge-door andshouting with all his might, "Betty, come quick, p'raps they's somesoldiers comin' down the road--maybe Tom's comin', 'oo come and look."

  "Sodjers--where?--what?" cried old Betty, waking up hastily from herdoze, and fumbling in her pocket for the gate-key.

  Toady Lion was at her elbow when she undid the latch. Toady Lioncharged past her with a yell. Toady Lion it was who from the safemiddle of the highway made the preposterous explanation, "Oh no, theyisn't no soldiers. 'Tis only a silly old fish-man wif a tin trumpet."

  "Come back, sir, or I'll tell your father! Come back at once!" criedold Betty.

  But she might shake her head and nod with her nut-cracker chin tillthe black beads on her lace "kep" tinkled. All was in vain. Toady Lionwas out of reach far down the dusty main road along which the ScotsGreys had come the day that Hugh John became a soldier. Toady Lion wasa born pioneer, and usually got what he wanted, first of all by dintof knowing exactly what he did want, and then "fighting it out onthat line if it took all summer"--or even winter too.

  The road to the town of Edam wound underneath trees great and tall,which hummed with bees and gnats that day as Toady Lion sped along,his bare feet "plapping" pleasantly in the white hot dust. He wasfurtively crying all the time--not from sorrow but with sheerindignation. He hated all his kind. He was going to desert to theSmoutchies. He would be a Comanche Cowboy if they would have him,since his brother and Cissy Carter had turned against him. Nobodyloved him, and he was glad of it. Prissy--oh! yes, but Prissy did notcount. She loved everybody and everything, even stitching and dollies,and putting on white thread gloves when you went into town. So he ranon, evading the hay waggons and red farm-carts without looking atthem, till in a trice he had crossed Edam Bridge and entered thetown--in the glaring streets and upon the hot pavement of which thesunshine was sleeping, and which on Saturday forenoon had more thanits usual aspect of enjoying a perpetual siesta.

  The leading chemist was standing at his door, wondering if the rusticwho passed in such a hurry could actually be on the point of enteringthe shop of his hated rival. The linen-draper at the corner under thetown clock was divided between keeping an eye on his apprentices tosee that they did not spar with yard sticks, and mentally criticisingthe ludicrous and meretricious window-dressing of his next-doorneighbour.

  None of them cared at all for the small dusty boy with thetear-furrowed countenance who kept on trotting so steadily through thetown, turned confidently up the High Street, and finally dodged intothe path which led past the Black Sheds to the wooden bridge whichjoined the castle island to the butcher's parks. As he crossed thegrass Toady Lion heard a wrathful voice from somewhere calling loudly,"Nipper! Nipper-r-r-r! Oh, wait till I catch you!"

  For it chanced that this day the leading butcher in Edam was withoutthe services of both his younger assistants--his son Nipper and hismessage boy, Tommy Pratt. Mr. Donnan had a new cane in his hand, andhe was making it whistle through the air in a most unpleasant andsuggestive manner.

  "Get away out of my field, little boy--where are you going? What areyou doing there?"

  The question was put at short range now, for all unwittingly Sir ToadyLion had almost run into butcher Donnan's arms.

  "Please I finks I'se going to Mist'r Burnham's house," explained ToadyLion readily but somewhat unaccurately; "I'se keepin' off thegrass--and I didn't know it was your grass anyway, please, sir."

  At the same time Toady Lion saluted because he also was a soldier, andMr. Donnan, who in his untempered youth had passed several years inthe ranks of Her Majesty's line, mechanically returned the courtesy.

  "Why, little shaver," he said not unkindly, "this isn't the way toMr. Burnham's house. There it is over among the trees. But, hello,talk of the--ahem--why, here comes Mr. Burnham himself."

  Toady Lion clapped his hands and ran as fast as he could in thedirection of the clergyman. Mr. Burnham was very tall, very soldierly,very stiff, and his well-fitting black coat and corded silk waistcoatwere the admiration of the ladies of the neighbourhood. He was neverseen out of doors without the glossiest of tall hats, and it waswhispered that he had his trousers made tight about the calves onpurpose to look like a dean. It was also understood in well-informedcircles that he was writing a book on the eastward position--afterwhich there would be no such thing as the Low Church. Nevertheless anupright, good, and, above all, kindly heart beat under the immaculatesilk M. B. waistcoat; also strong capable arms were attached to thearmholes of the coat which fitted its owner without a wrinkle. Indeed,Mr. Burnham had a blue jacket of a dark shade in which he had onceupon a time rowed a famous race. It hung now in a glass cabinet, andwas to the clergyman what Sambo Soulis was to General-Field-MarshalSmith.

  But as we know, the fear of man dwelt not in Sir Toady Lion, andcertainly not fear of his clergyman. He trotted up to him and said, "Iwants to go to the castle. You come."

  Now hitherto Mr. Burnham had always seen Sir Toady Lion as he came,with shining face and liberally plastered hair, from under the tendermercies of Janet Sheepshanks--with her parting monition to behave(and perhaps something else) still ringing in his ear.

  So that it is no wonder that he did not for the moment recognise inthe tear-stained, dust-caked face of the barefooted imp who addressedhim so unceremoniously, the features of the son of his most prominentparishioner. He gazed down in mildly bewildered surprise, whereuponToady Lion took him familiarly by the hand and reiterated his request,with an aplomb which had all the finality of a royal invitation.

  "Take me to the castle on the island. I 'ants to go there!"

  "And who may you be, little boy?"

  "Don't 'oo know? 'Oo knows me when 'oo comes to tea at our house!"cried Toady Lion reproachfully. "I'se Mist'r Smiff's little boy; and I'ants to go to the castle."

  "Why do you want to go to the castle island?" asked Mr. Burnham.

  "To find my bruvver Hugh John," said Toady Lion instantly.

  The butcher had come up and stood listening silently, after having,with a certain hereditary respect for the cloth, respectfully salutedMr. Burnham.

  "This little boy wants to go on the island to find his brother," saidthe clergyman; "I suppose I may pass through your field with him?"

  "Certainly! The path is over at the other side of the field. But Idon't know but what I'll come along with you. I've lost my son and mymessage-boy too. It is possible they may be at the castle.

  "There is some dust being kicked up among the boys. I can't get myrascals to attend to business at all this last week or two."

  And Mr. Donnan again caused his cane to whistle through the air in away that turned Toady Lion cold, and made him glad that he was "Mr.Smift's little boy," and neither the son nor yet the errand-boy of thebutcher of Edam.

  Presently the three came to the wooden bridge, and from it they couldsee the flag flying over the battlements of the castle, and a swarmingpress of blac
k figures swaying this way and that across the brightgreen turf in front.

  "Hurrah--yonder they'se fightin'. Come on, Mist'r Burnham, we'll be intime yet!" shouted Toady Lion. "They saided that I couldn't come; andI've comed!"

  Suddenly a far-off burst of cheering came to them down the wind. Blackdots swarmed on the perilous battlements of the castle. Other blackdots were unceremoniously pitched off the lower ramparts into theditch below. The red and white flag of jacobin rebellion was pulledunder, and a clamorous crowd of disturbed jackdaws rose from theturrets and hung squalling and circling over the ancient and loftywalls.

  The conflict had indeed joined in earnest. The embattled foes were inthe death grips; and, fearful lest he should arrive too late, ToadyLion hurried forward his reinforcements, crying, "Come on both of you!Come on, quick!" Butcher Donnan broke into a run, while Mr. Burnham,forgetting all about his silk waistcoat, clapped his tall hat on theback of his head and started forward at his best speed, Toady Lionhanging manfully on to the long skirts of his coat, as the Highlandershad clung to the cavalry stirrups at Balaclava till they were borneinto the very floodtide of battle.

  There were now two trump-cards in the lone hand.