as a little boy,' said he, betrayed
into quite a gushing state by her delightful interest. 'I used to make
trumpets of paper, eldersticks, eltrot stems, and even stinging-nettle
stalks, you know. Then father set me to keep the birds off that little
barley-ground of his, and gave me an old horn to frighten 'em with. I
learnt to blow that horn so that you could hear me for miles and miles.
Then he bought me a clarionet, and when I could play that I borrowed a
serpent, and I learned to play a tolerable bass. So when I 'listed I was
picked out for training as trumpeter at once.'

'Of course you were.'

'Sometimes, however, I wish I had never joined the army. My father gave
me a very fair education, and your father showed me how to draw horses--on
a slate, I mean. Yes, I ought to have done more than I have.'

'What, did you know my father?' she asked with new interest.

'O yes, for years. You were a little mite of a thing then; and you used
to cry when we big boys looked at you, and made pig's eyes at you, which
we did sometimes. Many and many a time have I stood by your poor father
while he worked. Ah, you don't remember much about him; but I do!'

Anne remained thoughtful; and the moon broke from behind the clouds,
lighting up the wet foliage with a twinkling brightness, and lending to
each of the trumpet-major's buttons and spurs a little ray of its own.
They had come to Oxwell park gate, and he said, 'Do you like going
across, or round by the lane?'

'We may as well go by the nearest road,' said Anne.

They entered the park, following the half-obliterated drive till they
came almost opposite the hall, when they entered a footpath leading on to
the village. While hereabout they heard a shout, or chorus of
exclamation, apparently from within the walls of the dark buildings near
them.

'What was that?' said Anne.

'I don't know,' said her companion. 'I'll go and see.'

He went round the intervening swamp of watercress and brooklime which had
once been the fish-pond, crossed by a culvert the trickling brook that
still flowed that way, and advanced to the wall of the house. Boisterous
noises were resounding from within, and he was tempted to go round the
corner, where the low windows were, and look through a chink into the
room whence the sounds proceeded.

It was the room in which the owner dined--traditionally called the great
parlour--and within it sat about a dozen young men of the yeomanry
cavalr