Saddle and Sabre. A novel

Chapter I. North Leach

Nestling at the foot of one of the long undulations of the Lincolnshire wolds stood a large, many-gabled, irregular house, a house wont to puzzle the traveller as to what manner of man might be its owner. It was too big for a farmhouse, nor did it look in the least like a rectory ; moreover, nothing stood near it but some three or four labourers' cottages. As you looked closer you became conscious that the central VOL. i. b portion was most substantially built, and evidently of older date than the wings, which had apparently been added to it later. One peculiarity about it, rather striking in a house of this size, was that it was thatched, neatly and very trimly thatched, no doubt, but still that wras a roof you would have hardly expected to find on a house of this class. North Leach, as the place was called, had been the home of the Devereuxes for certainly something like four centuries.

There they had farmed some four hundred acres of their ow7n so successfully that they had now for many years rented an adjoining farm of some seven or eight hundred acres, a property of the great territorial magnate of that part of Lincolnshire. This was farming on a large scale ; but, although the times were not so prosperous for agricul turists as during the days of the tremendous struggle with Napoleon, still things were very flourishing. The farmers, albeit the Corn Laws had been repealed, made money hand over hand, and lived royally. Old Tom Devereux kept so many horses of one kind and another at North Leach that gossip had it that Mrs. Devereux was always asked whether she would have four greys, browns, chestnuts, or what not, for Doncaster races, a festival which the Devereuxes had attended with the utmost regularity for many years.

The present generation of the family had been brought up in very different fashion from their predecessors. Both sons had been to Cambridge, while Lettice Devereux had acquired everything that masters and a fashionable school could teach her. As for riding, there never was a Devereux that could not ride. Both the men and women of the family were thoroughly at home in the saddle, and well-known as amongst the best and boldest riders with the Brocklesby. In front of the house, indeed running round three sides of it, and just beyond the gardens and shrubberies which immeb2 diately surrounded it, was what was called " the paddock," a large grass-field of about fifty acres, virgin turf which had never known the ploughshare. Along one side of it were various artificial fences, such as are used for schooling purposes; for the making of hunters was always being pursued at North Leach with great assiduity.

Neither Tom Devereux nor his sons could be correctly designated horse-dealers, but when you have such a quantity of horses as were required for the wrork of a farm, to say nothing of a long string of hunters and carriage-horses, it stands to reason that there must necessarily be a good deal of buying and selling connected wdth the establishment. Further, there were a few brood-mares at North Leach, and, consequently, a certain amount of young stock, some of which usually had to be disposed of. There was one thing certain at the big farm, they could utilise horseflesh in a great number of ways, and if a horse gave no promise of making a hunter there were many other paths in life to which he could be introduced. Inside, the house was, as might be ex pected, a roomy, comfortable old building, which had been most judiciously modern ised.

In the central, or original house, so to speak, the rooms were low, with black oak paneling, and floors to match ; but in the wings the rooms were far more lofty, and a very pleasant drawing-room in the one wing was balanced by an equally com fortable billiard-room on the other side of the hall. At the time my story opens, John Deve reux, the eldest son, had left the Uuiversity some two years, and had steadily settled down as his father's partner : not but what old Tom Devereux was a hale, hearty man of his years yet ; but men do not, as a rule, ride quite so hard to hounds at sixty as they do in the days of their hot youth. We all learn to take our pleasures more (i SADDLE AND SABRE. soberly, and it is well for us, too, if we can take our work somewhat more leisurely. The overlooking of two such farms as North Leach and the adjacent one, held upon lease, involves a considerable amount of hard work, and Tom Devereux was well pleased wdien his son settled down to follow steadily in his footsteps.

There had been times when he had somewhat doubted the wisdom of having allowed his sons to go to the University — at all events, the eldest ; he had been afraid it might unsettle him, and give him a distaste for the calling of a yeoman farmer ; and then the old man had thought solemnly of what was to become of the land if there was no one to take his place when he was gone. He was fond of the old acres that had come down to him through so many generations of Devereux. He had made his money out of the land, and respected it accordingly. Moreover, he was as honestly proud and fond of the old home of his family as any noble in the land could be of the stately mansion transmitted to him through a long line of ancestors. A grey November day is closing in as Lettice Devereux enters the drawing-room, and promptly rings for tea.

She is soon seated in a comfortable armchair in front of the glowing fire, in lazy enjoyment of that luxury. A sharp gallop with the hounds that morning has induced a pleasant lan guor, wdiich, now that she has changed her dress, she feels justified in indulging in. She is already half-asleep, when the door opens abruptly, and her brother, in well splashed boots and well-stained pink, enters the room. " Holloa, Lettice," he exclaimed, " what became of you ? You didn't come to grief of any kind with the young one, did you ? But I missed you just after that rattling burst we had in the morning ; and though we were lucky enough to find an afternoon fox, who gave us a very decent run, I never caught sight of your habit again." "No, John," rejoined the girl laughing, "and I will tell you why. That four-year old has the makings of as good a hunter as we have got in the stable.

He carried me beautifully, and made never a mistake at his fences all the morning. But, when we trotted off to look for that second fox, he began to blunder a good deal. And the reason was obvious, the horse was tired; quite reason enough for taking him home. We all knowr nothing breaks the heart of a young one so much as asking him to go on when he is tired." " Ah ! you really think well of the young one then, do you ? " said John Devereux with evident interest, as he sipped his tea. " I do," replied Lettice, " and, what is more, I have an idea that he has a great turn of speed. I think it would be quite worth your while at the end of the hunting season to try him. I think you will find that he is rather above hunter class." " We shall see," replied John. "Anyway, your schooling will go a great way towards the completion of his education.

Have you heard from Charlie, and when he is coming down ? " " Next week. Do you knowr anything of this Mr. Furzedon that he is bringing with him ? " " No. You see, although Charlie and I certainly just were together at Cambridge, I was a good bit before his time. I was leav ing just as he came up, and during the term we were there together our sets were very different. As for this fellow, Eurzedon, I never heard of him, but he is evidently a great pal of Charlie's ; at all events he can ride a bit, and therefore we shall have no trouble about making him happy here, as long as the horses hold out ; and, if he wants a breather after partridges, goodness knows we've plenty of them, although it takes hard walking to pick up a few brace now." " I've no doubt we can make it pleasant enough for Mr. Furzedon," rejoined Lettice.

" I am bound to say that most of the friends you and Charlie ask here generally seem excessively pleased with the amusements we provide for them, and I have very little doubt Mr. Furzedon will fall into our grooves quite as naturally as the rest of them." " Well, now I'm off," rejoined John Devereux, " to exchange my dirty boots, &c, for more civilised garments." And so saying, he left his sister to enjoy her second cup of tea, and indulge in dreamy reflection. Miss Devereux was so far very well satis fied with her lot in life. A high-spirited girl of twenty, disposed to make the best of everything, she found her home-life very enjoyable. There was always plenty to amuse her about the farm, and, although North Leach was rather an isolated resi dence, yet people in those parts had generally full stables, and made little of distances, and thought nothing of a ten or twelve mile drive to a country ball, or other revel.

Balls, it is true, were not very nume rous ; but then Lettice, though she could throw her heart and soul into a dance, was by no means hungry for such entertainments. As for the winter time, the prevalent feeling in those parts was, as Whyte Melville puts it, that " the business of life was to hunt every day ;" and Lettice dearly loved a good gallop. As she sat lazily there in front of the fire, she was speculating a good deal on the return of her favourite brother. She was very fond of John, but his quiet, sedate manner did not accord with her own mirth loving nature, like Charlie's. John was some six or seven years older than herself, but might have been, from the grave, serious way in which he took both his work and his pleasure, a score of years her senior. It wras difficult to wrork John up to great enthusiasm about anything ; his cool head never seemed to lose its balance for one moment ; such high spirits as at times possessed herself and Charlie never ran awav with John.

She did not trouble her head very much about this Mr. Furzedon, although her brother had been very full of him during the last few months. Truth to tell, she was thinking more about how well her horse had carried her than anything else. Sitting in the sitting-room of a quiet lodging in Duke Street, smoking a short pipe, was a fair-haired blue-eyed young fellow, gazing into the fire, and evidently deeply absorbed in thought — thoughts not of the pleasantest, apparently, to judge from the knit brows and somewhat serious aspect of the young face. "What an ass I have been," muttered Charlie Devereux as he puffed savagely at his pipe. " I wish to Heaven I'd never let Furzedon persuade me to go to Newmarket. I have had a bet before, of course, but I never went regularly in for it till this time, and three such meetings as I've had are enough to break any one ; indeed, if it hadn't been for Furzedon's help, I should have been unable to settle.

Bad form, too, borrowing money from a pal, and, as to paying him, there's only one thing for it. I must sell the hunters. It is rough, but, as he is coming down to North Leach to hunt with me, I suppose he'll let me have two or three months of them before the sacrifice. How ever, even then, if I'm bid a good price I shall have to take it. I wonder whether they have anything at home they will let me have the riding of." None knew better than Charlie that the big London dealers always had their eye upon North Leach. Many a letter did Tom Devereux get in the course of the season to know whether he had a hunter or two that he was disposed to part with. The dealers knew very well that when a horse from North Leach was guaranteed a made hunter, they could perfectly rely that it was so. And for an animal of that description a London dealer invariably has a market.

There are plenty of his wealthy customers who would always sooner trust to his judg ment than their own, and have no objection to pay the extra price. " Well," thought Charlie with all the elasticity of youth, " it will be very jolly to have a real good gossip with Lettice, and to have a good time with the Brocklesbys. I never think hunting so good anywhere as it is in my ' ain countree.' " Here his re flections were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, and the appearance of a tall dark young man, with a florid countenance and slightly Semitic nose. " What, Charlie, all in the downs ! " he said; " what nonsense ! It is no use being down in your luck because you've had a facer, besides, it's all squared up nowr. Let's dine together, have a bottle of champagne, and then go off to the theatre.

I've got all my business done in London, and am good to go down to North Leach with you whenever you like, and what's more we ought not to lose such beautifully open weather as this." So the two dined at Limmer's, and the bottle of champagne, as was only natural, expanded into two, and then they adjourned to the Strand Theatre, and were convulsed with laughter at one of the burlesques which characterised those palmy days of the Strand. I am writing of a good many years ago, when night-houses existed in the Hay market, and in pursuit of that very questionable experience, the seeing of life, it was deemed incumbent on the young men of the day to drop into two or three before returning home. Inferior alcohol, and the most dubious company, male and female, was all the entertainment that these dens afforded, but then it was the proper thing to do, and in our younger days there are very few of us who do not deem that sufficient reason for the committal of any absurdity.

Furzedon and Charlie Devereux, of course, thought it necessary to have a lobster or some oysters at one of these houses, and, as they sallied out after having their supper, a dilapidated man suddenly exclaimed : " Ah, Furzedon — I beg pardon, Mr. Furzedon — you're good I'm sure to stand a sovereign to an old pal who is down in his luck." Furzedon's eyes gleamed dangerously in the gaslight for a moment as he retorted in stern measured tones, " I don't know who you are, but I do know that you'll get never a sixpence from me to-night." " D'ye hear him, mates ? " replied the dilapidated one, addressing some three or four similar birds of ill-omen, who were hanging about the entrance of the house in question. " Pretty conduct this to expect from a fellow who was your intimate friend, and for whom you did some tolerably dirty work no very short time ago."

" Shame, shame! " cried the ragged chorus, " why don't you stand to the gentleman now he is down in his luck?" Keenly alive, these supporters of the sturdy mendicant, to the probability of "glasses round," should he succeed in extorting that sovereign from the " swell." " Close up, Charlie," said Furzedonin a low voice, " these curs are going to rush us, and see what they can make in turning our pockets out. Just follow my lead. As soon as that scoundrel comes up with his whining petition again, I shall let him have it hot. Hit out at once all you know, and we shall be through them and into a hansom in less than two minutes. In the meantime do as I do." And Mr. Furzedon rapidly buttoned his overcoat up tightly. Another moment, and the suppliant for relief advanced with an impudent leer, and said, " Come, Mr. Furzedon, we don't part like this ; I'm not going to want a sovereign while your pockets are well lined."

" Ah ! you think so," replied Furzedon, with a low laugh. " I told you you should get nothing from me to-night. I lied ; you shall," and, taking a step forward, Furzedon let go his left straight and true from the vol. I. c shoulder, and stretched the luckless mendi cant well-nigh senseless on the pavement. There was a rapid rush of his companions, but the quick, straight, determined hitting of Furzedon and Charlie speedily dissipated that attempt at plunder, and in another minute the pair were driving rapidly home to their lodgings in Duke Street. Nothing perhaps in the episode of a mere night-row in the Haymarket to influence the destiny of anybody connected with this history, and yet it is these very small events that so often bear curiously upon our lives. Had Furzedon given the unfortunate out cast of the Haymarket a sovereign, instead of a blow, it would probably have made a considerable difference in the course of his life.

Chapter II. Major Braddock's Dinner

The strangers' room at the Thermopolium was very full, and there was much talk and laughter going on at the various little tables as the wine passed merrily round them ; but, perhaps, from none did the laughter ripple more freely than from a round table in the middle of the room, around which half-a dozen men were gathered, the guests of jolly Major Braddock. The Major was in his element ; he was never more happy than when giving a little dinner ; he flattered himself that he knew how to do it, and, what was more to the point, he did. Look ing at his rubicund face and portly figure, c2 it was difficult now to imagine the Major a smart officer of Hussars, and yet, ten years before, when he finally doffed the pelisse, he was as good-looking a dragoon as ever wore sabretache. But a man naturally a bon vivant gives himself free licence in the matter of good living, and who is not given in any way to field-sports, rapidly puts on weight after he has turned thirty.

The Major was comfort ably off, and when he sold out subsided at once into a man about town. The giving and partaking of little dinners entered pro minently into the scheme of his life, and it wras now well known that an invitation from Bob Braddock was not a thing to be lightly declined ; nor, on the other hand, was he a man to wdiom an invitation was to be lightly issued. It was understood through Clubland that Bob Braddock's verdict on a dinner was unimpeachable, and there were some one or two of those monachal institutions which he specially tabooed, saying that it was a positive insult to ask any thing but a raw boy to partake of food within their gates while they kept such an atrocious cook. "Ha-ha!" laughed the Major, and it wras one of those mellow laughs wdiich almost instinctively carried the hearers away with it.

" What times those were ! What con stitutions we all had in those days, and, Heaven help us, how shamefully ignorant we were on the subject of wine and cookery ! Just you try that champagne, Norman. Here, waiter, get Mr. Slade a clean glass ; don't be afraid of it ; there's no gout in it, and, even if there is, upon my soul it is worth risking an attack for." Norman Slade, a dark, wiry little man, whose age defied all conjecture, filled his glass gravely, and, as he tasted it, said : " Yes, it's rare good stuff, but you ought to have laid the foundation of podagra pretty substantially by this time." " Yes, it wras the Exhibition year, and they wanted some cavalry just to show off before the big swells who came over to see Paxton's glass-house," continued the Major. "So they brigaded five regiments of light cavalry at Hounslow, and, you may guess, with all that going on in London, that the way us young ones streamed up to town every day was a caution.

Except the un happy subaltern for the day, I should think there wasn't an officer left iu any one of the regiments." " And you were the fellows the rest of us were paying taxes to provide for." "Of course you were," retorted the Major. " We looked well, were full of go, and did very well for ornamental purposes, which was all you wanted in those days. We didn't do so badly either in the Crimea as long as we lasted ; the wrorst of it was we were so soon used up. However, they don't stand those sort of larks now ; do they, Bertie ? " "Well," replied the young man addressed, "I don't think the authorities would stand some of the things you've been recounting." Bertie Slade wTas nephew to both these gentlemen. Norman's brother had married a Miss Braddock, and hence the connection ; and, different as the two men were, was, strange to say, an equal favourite with both of them.

No greater contrast than the two brothers-in-law could be conceived. The one, open-hearted, full of jest and story, with the art of dining as the main pursuit of his life. The other, a quiet, self-contained, reticent man, whose passion wras the Turf, with a dry caustic wit of his own, who often dribbled out a thing that brought down the laugh of the smoking-room of the club to which he was affiliated. Capable, too, of biting sarcasm, if exasperated, and it was not very difficult to move Norman Slade's wrath. " Have a glass of claret," said the Major, "or a glass of Madeira if you prefer it, while I relate another reminiscence of those times. As I have said, we all trooped up to London pretty wTell every day. Well, in those days there was a very famous supper house just off the Haymarket, which was much frequented by the soldiers.

Indeed, if Her Majesty's officers, to speak meta phorically, ever did rally round the old flag, it was that particular supper-house in '51. The precious institution has long since dis appeared, but, about three in the morning in those days, you were sure to find fellows from Woolwich, men from Hounslow, all anxious to pick up some one to share a hansom home. Indeed, as far as the Hounslow division, as they called us, went, we formed a perfect procession of hansoms ; constantly ten or a dozen of them proceeding in file past Hyde Park Corner on their wav to our quarters. Well, there was usually considerable difference about the fare when we arrived at Hounslowr. The cabbies in variably argued that they had waited a good bit for us, and then demanded an excessive tariff for the time we had employed them.

Now, remember the prize-ring was by no means dead in England in those days, and most of us had more or less learnt to use our hands pretty smartly ; a turn-up or two with the cabmen became at last quite an orthodox finish to the evening, and we seldom came home without a fare or two being referred to the arbitration of battle. No need to tell you that the London cabman is pretty wideawake, and, as our fellows in variably went on the double-or-quits system, the Hounslow lot were soon taken up by some pretty clever bruisers amongst them. Well, it was a bright June morning, about five o'clock, and the cabmen were in great feather ; they had sent dowrn that night a couple of semi-professionals, and tw'o or three of our best men had been handsomely polished off. We'd a big empty barrack room, containing nothing but some empty wine-cases, where these little differences were adjusted.

They were glove-fights, you must remember, so that our fellows didn't get so dreadfully marked as you might suppose. It was all over, the successful cabmen had carried away their double fares, and were gone, wdien the attention of those who were left of us was suddenly called to Jerry Moclere. I and one or two others recol lected seeing him at the beginning of the scrimmage struggling with a small cab man in the corner, but we had all been too absorbed in the fight to take further note of his proceedings. Now he was sitting on a champagne-case mopping his brows with a cambric handkerchief, and exclaiming in maundering tones, ' Oh, dear, what a time I've had of it ! Do, for goodness sake, get me a hammer and a few nails, some of you fellows.' ' What's the matter, Jerry ? ' we exclaimed ; ' what's the matter, old man?' 'Oh, dear, what an evening I've had,' he replied, in half-crying tones. ' What a trouble he has been to me ! for Heaven's sake s-et me a hammer and nails. ' What do you want — what's the matter ? ' we cried. ' Oh, don't,' he said, still halfweeping ; ' oh, dear, what a time I've had.

You never saw such a disagreeable little beggar.' ' What do you mean, Jerry — what is it?' 'The little beast,' he replied, in a broken voice ; ' he wouldn't go into the case, though I told him I wanted to send him to my mother. It'll please the dear old lady. But I've got him in at last, thank goodness ; do help me to nail him down at once, the discontented little brute ! I can feel him still wriggling about.' ' Do you mean to say,' we cried, ' that you've got a man in the case ? ' ' Got him in ?' he returned, lugubriously, ' yes, and it has taken me the whole night to get him there. Now do, like good fellows, bring the nails and a direction card.' But here we thought it was high time to intervene. Jerry, who had attained a high state of maudlin drunken ness, was carried off to bed, earnestly re questing that the case might be sent by the first train in the morning to his mother.

Of course, wre deuced soon had the top off the case, and high time, for the small cab man inside was quite past making any further efforts on his own account. Indeed, it required the help of a doctor to bring him round, and a handsome solatium on Jerry's part to hush up the business. Poor Jerry! A shell at Balaklava, as I dare say some of you know, killed as good a fellow as ever crossed saddle Nocv, gentlemen, come along, and we'll have a cigar and coffee dowmstairs." " Well, Bertie, how's the regiment getting on ? Still in it's chronic state of difficulties as regards ways and means, I suppose ? " " Yes," replied Gilbert Slade, laughing ; " we still hold a ten-pound note in much veneration, but, fortunately, we are not tried quite so high at Aldershot as they were in the days of your Hounslowr campaign.

The powers that be don't stand such incessant running up to town — a restriction which, though unpleasant, keeps us afloat." Gilbert Slade was a subaltern in his uncle's old corps, and, of course, amongst the seniors were several who had been in the regiment with him. Besides, the Major never missed the annual dinner, and, indeed, had much to say to its management. They said at the Albion that Major Braddock was a very fastidious gentleman, but, as the chef added enthusiastically, "he is a judge, and it's quite a pleasure to cook for him." So that, one way and another, Major Braddock had never lost touch of his old regiment, and knew something about pretty well every officer in it. " I suppose you'll be moving in the spring," he said, as he lit a big cigar. " Yes," replied Gilbert ; " it's our turn to move, and, I suppose, in April we shall go to the Northern district ; but where I don't exactly know — Manchester, I'm afraid."

" And wdiy afraid ? " rejoined Major Brad dock. " Merchant princes, bless you, who know how the thing should be done. If you play your cards properly, you ought to manage to get your legs under the maho gany of all the best houses, and wdnd up by marrying a hundred thousand pounds. Don't tell me, sir ! It's not often a young fellow gets such a chance so early in life. I can only say I regard it as sending the regiment to play by the waters of Pactolus, and it'll be a disgrace to the lot of you if you ever know want afterwards." " All I know is that Manchester is not a popular quarter with the Dragoons generally," rejoined Gilbert, laughing. "How ever, it is by no means settled yet that that is our destination." " Going on leave ? " asked the Major, dryly. " Yes — am on leave, indeed, now, though I shall probably run back to Aldershot for a night to arrange one or two little matters that I left unsettled when I came away.