THE PERILS OF PEREGRINE

à laJeffrey Farnol

à la

Jeffrey Farnol

I awoke very sore from the gruelling adventures of the previous day. Being more hungry than was my wont, I quickly despatched the hunch of crusty bread and bit of cheese, which the highwayman had left me, and fared forth upon my journeying. My way lay adown a leafy lane, lined with hedgerows, gemmed with myriad sparkling dew drops, wherein birds sang a jubilant pæan. So faring forth, I crossed a small rustic bridge spanning a murmurous brook and so into a dense wood, whose twisted, writhen branches and myriad leaves made a dim twilight, wherein a wind dank and chill moaned fitfully, very dismal to hear.

I sought to flee these gloomy shades, but tripped and fell headlong into a leafy glade, where sat a small, fierce, quick, keen-eyed tinker a-tinkering.

“Oh!” said I, “pray pardon my intrusion.”

“’Old ’ard!” quoth he in mighty voice,“that’s a good word. I’m a poet myself. Wot d’ye think o’ this?

“Full fathom five my father liesIn Xanadu with Kubla Khan.With a heigh and a ho and a hey nonny-no!Night and day on me he cries‘Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine!’Cuckoo! Cuckoo!So was it when my life beganSo is it now that I’m a manI’ve always had to chase the can.Heigho, fair Rosaline!”

“Full fathom five my father lies

In Xanadu with Kubla Khan.

With a heigh and a ho and a hey nonny-no!

Night and day on me he cries

‘Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine!’

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

So was it when my life began

So is it now that I’m a man

I’ve always had to chase the can.

Heigho, fair Rosaline!”

“Oh!” cried I, “you say that is original?”

“Aye, it is,” he answered.

“Strange how much you resemble your father,” quoth I, and left him.

I had scarce advanced an hundred paces ere I espied a murmurous brook and at the same time was aware of snapping of twigs and sounds of one, who burst through all obstacles in desperate flight. I gazed wildly about and espied a gypsy girl, who came bounding adown the steep. At sight of me she checked and stood at gaze.

There she stood, a young dryad of the woods, gray eyes adream, passionate with life yet boldly virginal.

“Who the hell are you?” she murmured softly. Then she seized me by the hand. “Come, let’s run,” she quoth; “they’re after me.”

“Oh,” I gasped, “who?”

“Shadrach, Meschech and Abednego,” she stated briefly, “The Rommany Three. Count them!” and so saying, she fled, I perforce following.

Ensued wild scramble through dismal wood, where mournful wind stirred, trees dankly dripped, wet leaves brushed faces, rain-sodden underbrush clung about wearied limbs. Came we at last out upon a broad highway, between grassy banks, topped by hedgerows and trees, whose wide-flung rustling leafage cast a pleasant shade, while, high in air, a lark caroled, faint and sweet against the blue.

Then looked I again upon my companion so vivid with life, so boldly virginal, and, catching my breath, which had hitherto eluded me,

“Some runner!” I quoth. “Haven’t I met you somewhere before?”

“I dessay,” she lightly answered. “You see, George Borrow was my father and I playedIsopel Bernersto hisLavengro. You’ll meet a lot of those old troupers before you’re throughthis book. There’s the Tinker now, and old Mrs. Herne. She playsAzorin this piece. Oh! them was the days!” she sighed, “when we was playin’ in the legit, before we come down to this movie stuff.”

“Oh,” quoth I, “then I suppose I ought to teach you grammar. It seems to me——”

“Cut it out!” she responded wearily. “Don’t!Lavengrodone that once and for all. You can’t improve on him.”

After a space were we ware of a wayside inn, the yard whereof was a-throng with gigs, carts, currycombs and other vehicles. One was a handsome closed traveling carriage, with blood horses stamping impatient hoofs and tossing proud heads. Standing by it was a man, tall, slim, superlatively dark, clad in garments of quiet elegance. His handsome pale face was paler by contrast with locks of raven hue. When we drew anear, he espied Diana.

“Come, my goddess, let us fly,” said he, and, seizing her by the waist, half lifted, half tossed her into the carriage, leapt lightly after. In an instant the carriage, rocking and reeling with its swift motion, disappeared in a cloud of dust. Dazed, I looked about me, but Diana was nowhere to be seen.

Not a moment was to be lost. Seizing the nearest horse, a jet black creature with blood-red nostrils, I leapt lightly into the saddle and was after them. Hedges, gemmed with dewdrops, trees, with wide-flung leafage, spun by as my gallant steed fell into his racing stride. Onward we flew, mile after mile, horse after carriage, me after her. Ever I gained upon the pursued. At last drew level with whiffle-trees, stooped over, with one stroke of knife cut the traces. I was at the door of the carriage as it lurched to a full stop.

“Come, Diana,” I said, “this is no place for you. I do not think this is a very nice man. And as for you, sir, I shall spare you now because, methinks, you will get yours in the last chapter but one.” With that we left him.

And now our way lay adown a leafy lane lined with grassy banks, topped by hedgerows and trees, whose wide-flung rustling leafage cast a pleasant shade, while, high in air, a lark caroled faint and sweet against the blue. Crossing by a rustic bridge, a murmurous brook, I was ware of a rough-clad, villainous-looking man, who stood opposed to us, powerfullegs apart, hairy fist grasping a short heavy stick or bludgeon, as the case may be. Evil face outthrust, he leered upon Diana’s loveliness.

“Oh,” said I, “what do you want?”

“Not you!” he snarled and, snarling, leapt at me. With his bludgeon he struck full force a crashing blow upon my hat. Staggering back, I reeled for a moment’s space, but as he made to smite again, I leapt lightly aside. “Strike one!” I cried, the joy of battle welling within me. Then my right flashed and smote him full on his bristly chin. His great body shrank horribly upon itself, rolled a limp and twisted lump upon the ground and lay still. I turned to look for Diana, but she was nowhere to be seen.

So I went my way, sorrowing for my lost love adown leafy lanes lined with hedgerows, gemmed with myriad sparkling dew drops, wherein birds sang a jubilant pæan, till I came to a broad highway lined with grassy banks, topped by trees, whose wide-flung rustling leafage cast a pleasant shade, while, high in air, a lark caroled faint and sweet against the blue. Full many a weary mile I trod before I was ware of strange sounds from a dingle hard by. Crashing into the dingle, I came at last tobehold Diana struggling in the arms of a man and him none other than he from which I had so lately rescued her. Then, as I stood at gaze, ere yet I leapt lightly to her succor, a hand gripped me.

I turned and saw a little man, his slender figure erect, one hand in the bosom of his coat.

“Devereux!” he called, with a terrible loud voice.

The villain started, loosed Diana and turned upon the speaker of the evening.

“Meaning me, withal?” he sneered; “that’s not my name.”

“Quite unimportant,” said the little man. “Devereux, Haredale, Marmaduke, Chester, Steerforth—name’s unimportant. I’ve met you a hundred times in a hundred books and plays and whatever the name, you’re always the same.”

The stranger’s lips curled from gnashing teeth, as he seized his heavy riding whip. A blinding flash, a deafening report, the oncoming figure stopped, right arm dangling helplessly, then lurched and stumbled out of sight, as the little man restored his little silver-mounted pocket-pistol to his pocket.

“My child,” said he, “yonder comes my manwith the tea equipage. He always comes when he hears me shoot any one. Let us have tea. I am the Earl of Wyvelstoke.”

So we had tea but lingered not long, as yet there was much to be done ere the rising of the orbed moon gave us surcease of action.

And so we fared forth many a weary mile along the broad highway, lined with grassy banks, topped by——

“Hist!” remarked Diana.

“Oh,” said I, “my dear! You must not interrupt my description of the scenery. Pray, why hist?”

“Shadrach, Meschech and Abednego!” she averred, pointing to where three evil faces peered through three gaps in the hedgerow.

Ensued a scrambling rush of three dark figures, with upraised heavy sticks or bludgeons. One, snarling as was his wont, strode me-wards. I leapt lightly aside only to meet both the other weapons, which simultaneously descended upon my head. Instant blackness overwhelmed me, interspersed, however, with luminaries of dazzling hue. When I recovered consciousness, Diana was nowhere to be seen.

So I went my way, sorrowing for my lost love. It was growing dusk when I reached a ruined and desolate barn. A solitary place and dismal, remote from the world, a very sinister place forsooth, such indeed as might be the haunt of grisly specters and angry moo-cows. Breath in check, with eyes of horror stared I at that dreadful barn, whence emanated the sound of hollow knocks. Instantly I was transformed into a cool, dispassionate, relentless creature, intent upon one desperate purpose, though as yet I wot not what that purpose was.

“Be damned to ye, Shadrach!” panted a hoarse voice. “’Eave, man! ’Eave! Her’s a sittin’ on th’ trap door.”

I crept toward the ladder whereon they stood, leapt and smote with all my might. Ensued a battle grim and great. Ensued thereupon a silence, an emptiness, a stillness and from afar I heard lugubrious voices growing fainter and fainter.

“Oh,” cried I, “Diana! Ah there, Diana!”

“Well, what’s wanted?” queried she.

“Will you marry me, Diana?”

“Don’t be foolish, kid. You’ve mixed your cues. That line belongs in the last chapter. You’d better go to bed now. You’ve had a busy day.”

So, knowing that the morrow would bring further adventure, I lay down and fell into a dreamless sleep, but when I awoke in the morning, Diana was nowhere to be seen.

Back to Index Next