CHAPTER XXIV
HIS HONOUR, SQUIRE WEST
Squire West was an elderly man, with a fine military presence and apleasant countenance beneath his bob-tail wig: in his youth he had beenreckoned well-favoured, and had been much petted by the ladies at thecounty balls. Owing to this he had retained a certain polish of mannernot often met with in the English country gentry of those times.
He came forward very politely to greet the courier of Lady PatienceGascoyne.
"What hath procured to Brassington the honour of a message from LadyPatience Gascoyne?" he asked, motioning Bathurst to a chair, and seatinghimself behind his desk.
"Her ladyship herself is staying in the village," replied Jack, "butwould desire her presence to remain unknown for awhile."
"Oh, indeed!" said the Squire, a little flurried at this unexpectedevent, "but ... but there is no inn fitting to harbour her ladyship inthis village, and ... and ... if her ladyship would honour me and mypoor house..."
"I thank you, sir, but her ladyship only remains here for an hour or so,and has despatched me to you on an important errand which brooks of nodelay."
"I am entirely at her ladyship's service."
"Lady Patience was on her way from Stretton Hall, your Honour,"continued Bathurst, imperturbably, "when her coach was stopped on theHeath, not very far from here, and her jewels, money, and also certainvaluable papers were stolen from her."
Squire West hemmed and hawed, and fidgeted in his chair: the matterseemed, strangely enough, to be causing him more annoyance thansurprise.
"Dear! dear!" he muttered deprecatingly.
"Her ladyship has written out her formal plaint," said Jack, laying thepaper before his Honour. "She has sent her coach on to Wirksworth, butthought your Honour's help here at Brassington would be more useful incapturing the rogue."
"Aye!" murmured the worthy Squire, still somewhat doubtfully, and with afrown of perplexity on his jovial face. "We certainly have a posse ofsoldiers--a dozen or so at most--quartered in the village just now,but..."
"But what, your Honour?"
"But to be frank with you, sir, I fear me that 'twill be no good. An Imistake not, 'tis another exploit of that rascal, Beau Brocade, and therogue is so cunning! ... Ah!" he added with a sigh, "we shall have nopeace in this district until we've laid him by the heels."
It was certainly quite obvious that the Squire was none too eager tosend a posse of soldiers after the notorious highwayman. He had himselfenjoyed immunity on the Heath up to now, and feared that it would be histurn to suffer if he started an active campaign against Beau Brocade.But Bathurst, from where he sat, had a good view through the casementwindow of the village green, and of the Royal George beyond it. Everymoment he expected to see Sir Humphrey Challoner emerging from under theporch and entering this Court House, when certainly the situation wouldbecome distinctly critical. The Squire's hesitancy nearly drove himfrantic with impatience, yet perforce he had to keep a glib tongue inhis head, and not to betray more than a natural interest in the subjectwhich he was discussing.
"Aye!" he said gaily, "an it was that rogue Beau Brocade, your Honour,he's the most daring rascal I've ever met. The whole thing was done ina trice. Odd's fish! but the fellow would steal your front tooth whilsthe parleyed with you. He fired at me and hit me," he added ruefully,pointing to his wounded shoulder.
"You were her ladyship's escort on the Heath, sir?"
"Aye! and would wish to be of assistance in the recovery of herproperty: more particularly of a packet of letters on which her ladyshipsets great store. If the rogue were captured now, these might be foundabout his person."
"Ah! I fear me," quoth his Honour, with singular lack of enthusiasm,"that 'twill not be so easy, sir, as you imagine."
"How so?"
"Beau Brocade is in league with half the country-side and..."
"Nay! you say you have a posse of soldiers quartered here! Gadzooks! ifI had the chance with these and a few lusty fellows from the village,I'd soon give an account of any highwayman on this Heath!"
"Dear! dear!" repeated Squire West, sorely puzzled, "a very regrettableincident indeed."
"Can I so far trespass on your Honour's time," queried Bathurst, with aslight show of impatience, "as to ask you at least to take note of herladyship's plaint?"
"Certainly ... sir, certainly ... hem! ... er.... Of course we mustafter the rogue ... the beadle shall cry him out on the green at once,and..."
It was easy to see that the worthy Squire would far sooner have left thewell-known hero of Brassing Moor severely alone; still, in his officialcapacity he was bound to take note of her ladyship's plaint, and to actas justice demanded.
"'Tis a pity, sir," he said, whilst he sat fidgeting among his papers,"that you, or perhaps her ladyship, did not see the rogue's face. Isuppose he was masked as usual?"
"Faix! he'd have frightened the sheep on the Heath, maybe, if he wasnot. But her ladyship and I noted his hair and stature, and also thecut and colour of his clothes."
"What was he like?"
"Tall and stout of build, with dark hair turning to grey."
"Nay!" ejaculated Squire West, in obvious relief, "then it was not BeauBrocade, who is young and slim, so I'm told, though I've never seen him.You saw him plainly, sir, did you say?"
"Aye! quite plainly, your Honour! And what's more," added Jack,emphatically, "her ladyship and I both caught sight of him inBrassington this very morning."
"In Brassington?"
"Outside the Royal George," asserted Bathurst, imperturbably.
"Nay, sir!" cried Squire West, who seemed to have quite lost his air ofindecision, now that he no longer feared to come in direct conflict withBeau Brocade, "why did you not say this before? Here, Inch! Inch!" headded, going to the door and shouting lustily across the passage, "whereis that cursed beadle? In Brassington, did you say, sir?"
"I'd almost swear to it, your Honour."
"Nay! then with a bit of good luck, we may at least lay _this_ rascal bythe heels. I would I could rid this neighbourhood of these rogues.Here, Inch," he continued, as soon as that worthy appeared in thedoorway, "do you listen to what this gentleman has got to say. There'sa d----d rascal in this village and you'll have to cry out hisdescription at once, and then collar him as soon as may be."
Master Inch placed himself in a posture that was alike dignified andexpectant. His Honour, Squire West, too, was listening eagerly, whilstJack Bathurst with perfect _sang-froid_ gave forth the description ofthe supposed highwayman.
"He wore a brown coat," he said calmly, "embroidered waistcoat, buffbreeches, riding-boots and three-cornered hat. He is tall and stout ofbuild, has dark hair slightly turning to grey, and was last seencarrying a gold-headed riding-crop."
"That's clear enough, Inch, is it not?" queried his Honour.
"It is marvellously pellucid, sir," replied the beadle.
"You may add, friend Beadle," continued Jack, carelessly, "that herladyship offers a reward of twenty guineas for that person's immediateapprehension."
And Master Inch, beadle of the parish of Brassington, flew out of thedoor, and out of the Court House, bell in hand, for with a little bit ofgood luck it might be that he would be the first to lay his hand on thetall, stout rascal in a brown coat, and would be the one to earn thetwenty guineas offered for his immediate apprehension.
Squire West himself was over pleased. It was indeed satisfactory torender service to so great a lady as Lady Patience Gascoyne withoutinterfering over much with that dare-devil Beau Brocade. Thedepredations on Brassing Moor had long been a scandal in the county: ithad oft been thought that Squire West had not been sufficiently activein trying to rid the Heath of the notorious highwayman, whose exploitsnow were famed far and wide. But here was a chance of laying a cursedrascal by the heels and of showing his zeal in the administration of thecounty.
The Squire, in the interim, busied himself with his papers,
whilstBathurst, who was vainly trying to appear serious and only casuallyinterested, stood by the open window, watching Master Inch's progressacross the green.
Outside the Court House faithful John Stich stood waiting, with Jack o'Lantern pawing the ground by his side.
Beau Brocade: A Romance Page 24
