Percy F. Westerman – The Complete Collection

Chapter 4

In my eagerness to start I could scarcely be persuaded to eat anything. In vain did Mistress Heatherington coax me--my excitement was too great. At length the two-horsed wain belonging to Farmer Hill drew up outside our house. By this conveyance I was to be taken to Petersfield, there to proceed by a chapman's cart that journeyed thrice weekly betwixt that town and Portsmouth.

My packages and boxes were lifted into the wagon. I climbed up beside the driver, and with many a handwave my old home was left behind me, and a new world lay before me.

I was now fourteen years of age, and for a country-bred lad I flattered myself that I was no fool. Tall for my age, broad-shouldered and supple-limbed, I possessed an unusual amount of strength, and could bear fatigue in a manner that could only be accounted for by the fact that I had led an active outdoor life.

Slowly the wagon ascended the steep incline of Rake Hill. The summit gained, there was time for a parting glance across the coombe ere the four-mile stretch of downhill road commenced. At first I talked excitedly with the driver, a sour-faced, wizened man, whose short jerky answers, spoken in broadest Sussex, did not encourage conversation; so presently I dropped all attempt at talking, and took note of the various places and persons we met on the road.

At Sheet Bridge we were stopped by a toll-gate, the driver exchanging a few angry words with the villainous-looking man who held the gate.

Beyond was a short, steep hill, up which we both walked, the driver having thrown the reins across his horse's back. At the summit was a gallows, from which hung something black. As we drew nearer I could see that the dark object was all that remained of what was once a man. The corpse, daubed with pitch, was encircled with iron hoops like a cage, and as the wind howled over the hilltop the chain that suspended the cage creaked horribly.

The corpse could not have been there for long; it certainly was not there on the occasion of my last journey with my father to Petersfield. I noticed that the little finger of each hand was missing!

The driver looked at me over his shoulder, as if to note the effect that this horrible sight might have on a youth.

"See you?" he queried, knowing full well that I could not well miss seeing it unless I were blind.

I nodded. "Let yon be a waarning to 'e, young maaster. Do 'e never taake to killin'. 'Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.'" And with this remarkable discourse he slowly climbed back to his seat on the wagon, I following him.

But I was not satisfied. Those missing fingers puzzled me, and I ventured to ask why the hands had been mutilated. For answer he plunged his hand into one of his many pockets and produced a small object that looked like a leather purse. This he opened and pulled out a human finger, the stump being mounted with silver! For a moment he held it before my eyes; then, as if too precious to be exposed to the light of day, he carefully replaced it in its wrappings.

"Young maaster," he replied, "for certain prevention of agues, fever, smallpox, plague, and all divers illnesses, for certain proof against the evil eye, there is nowt that can compare with the little finger of a murderer."

By this time the square tower of Petersfield Church was in sight, and soon after we drew up in the courtyard of the "Red Lion", where, since it was market day, there were numbers of carts and wagons from the countryside for miles around.

In the midst of the bustle and noise I saw that mingled with the countryfolk were several soldiers, while in a corner of the courtyard was a ponderous coach, which, if I mistook not, was the very one that passed me yesternight at Rake Hill.

It was but ten in the morning, and the two occupants of the coach had not yet appeared. Apparently an accident had befallen the conveyance, for a smith was busily engaged with hammer and cold chisel in repairing one of the wheels.

Notwithstanding their Puritanical garb, most of the troopers had, even at this early hour, partaken of spirituous drinks, and, judging by their gestures and talk, were evidently anticipating the restoration of His Majesty King Charles.

Perceiving a serving maid at one of the windows, one of the soldiers began to make love to her in dumb show, kissing his hand and waving his iron headpiece to the damsel, who seemed nothing loath to accept his advances.

Presently she opened the casement, and, leaning out, threw him a flower. Few women can throw straight, and this one was no exception. Her missile flew far above the man's head, and, running backwards in a vain endeavour to catch it, he fell heavily into a large trough of pigs' mash, where, half-stunned by the force of his fall, he lay wallowing in the sticky mess, till he was helped out by his comrades, to the accompaniment of their jeers and laughter.

Having carried all my belongings into the inn, the old carter bade me farewell; and as the sound of his footsteps was lost in the outside din, I felt as if the last link that bound me to the home of my childhood was severed.

The host of the "Red Lion", an old soldier by appearance, came in and asked me what I lacked. I told him I was waiting for the chapman who travelled between Winton, Petersfield, and Portsmouth, and at the same time ordered a meal, for the morning ride had made me hungry.

The landlord hurried off, for callers were many that morning, and whilst I was waiting I took stock of the room. It was panelled, and had thick oak rafters and low ceiling. Though the weather was warm, a large fire blazed on the hearth, while the wall above the chimney corner was hung with an assortment of old weapons.

There were three other occupants of the room, two of whom sat in the chimney corner, leaning over the fire as if it were a winter's day, while the third was spread out on the settle, gazing stolidly at his companions. They had evidently been engaged in deep conversation, but on my arrival they stopped talking and eyed me with no goodwill.

All three were villainous-looking men, dark-skinned and heavy-browed. One had a livid weal across his cheek, while another was deeply pitted with smallpox. The third had his face nearly concealed in a dark beard that grew so high on his cheek as almost to meet his eyebrows. Their clothes were old and ragged; their belongings were limited to a small bundle that was placed by each man's side. Three large tankards, lying upset on the floor, showed that their refreshment had been copious, while the reek of strong spirits hung around them like an invisible cloud.

They made no secret of the fact that my inquisitive glances were unwelcome, and so much did they scowl that I turned hastily away and looked out of the window, where the brilliant sunshine, beating down on the crowded courtyard, made a pleasing contrast to the dismal trio within.

The arrival of another wayfarer next diverted my thoughts. The newcomer was a burly, good-natured farmer, who, after giving the three men a cheery salutation, which they returned surlily enough, sat down opposite to me.

Just then the landlord reappeared, and offered excuses for not having a better room at his disposal. "Two officers and a troop of horse," said he, "have stayed here overnight. What their business is I know not. The men are free with everything but their own affairs. Not even spiced ale makes their tongues wag in that direction. Their masters say less. Still, 'tis not my business; they pay well. But even this young gentleman has to stay here for want of better room. Ah, bethink me! Didst pass Carver, the chapman, on your way hither?"

"Are your wits wool-gathering, Master Host?" replied the other. "Seeing that Carver gave notice that on Tuesday he would go direct from Winton, instead of through this town, and that to-day happens to be Tuesday----"

"Of course!" ejaculated the landlord; "I had forgotten."

For a moment I felt staggered, then I asked if there were other means of continuing my way.

"None, young sir; but there is ample accommodation here for man and beast till Thursday, when a wagon from Alton to Portsmouth passes this hostel."

I shook my head. The idea of spending two days and nights in this place was out of the question. "I must go on," I replied, "even if I walk."

"You've pluck!" exclaimed the farmer. "'Tis a good eighteen miles. Were it any day but this I'd take you part of the way."

I thanked him, and asked the landlord to take care of my trunks till the Thursday; and, having finished my repast, I prepared to go.

Having paid my account in gold, and received a quantity of silver change, which the landlord counted slowly into my hand, I bade the kindly farmer good-bye, and set off southward along a dusty, chalky road.

After crossing a small stream, and proceeding over a long causeway, the road began slowly, yet gradually, to rise, evidently making for a gap between two lofty hills. Two miles brought me to the foot of the downs, where all signs of cultivation terminated abruptly, and only a treeless expanse of turf-covered hills met my eye.

It was warm work that last part of the ascent, and on gaining the summit of the road I found that the hillside still towered on both sides, the highway running through a steep chalk cutting.

Out of breath, I sat down on a grassy bank and looked back upon the country I had just left. Miles and miles of well-wooded land lay beneath me, extending far away to the North Downs. I could see the town of Petersfield nestling around the square tower of the old church. I could trace the dusty road along which I had journeyed, save the last half-mile, which was hidden by a chalk cliff that rose some two hundred yards away on the right.

For over a quarter of an hour I sat enjoying this magnificent view, when suddenly round the bend of the road by the base of the cliff appeared three men whom I had no difficulty in recognizing as the ill-favoured visitors at the "Red Lion".

Then like a lightning flash the thought swept across my mind that, having seen the landlord give me a sum of silver, they had followed me to this lonesome spot.

I immediately sprang to my feet, and walked sharply onwards through the cutting. Ever and anon I looked back, and found that they were increasing their pace into almost a trot; so, directly I had put the brow of the hill betwixt them and me, I ran steadily but not too swiftly down the road. Even as I ran I took in my surroundings. In front was the long, white road, still descending till it turned to the left beyond a grassy spur of the hill that hid it from view, though at a considerable distance from it. Here and there were a few stunted bushes, too scanty to afford shelter, while not a habitation nor a human being was to be seen.

Again I looked back. Notwithstanding the climb, the men had gained on me, and were even now running at full speed down the incline--not two hundred yards away. One had out-distanced the others, yet all three were keeping up a rapid pace.

Instinctively I increased my speed to the utmost, and, with my elbows pressed closely against my sides, swung down the road in a vain endeavour to meet a friendly being, or at least to outdistance my pursuers.