back on his abashed
ranks. His breast swelled; he seemed on the point to say more; but,
indignation mastering him, mutely with a wave of the hand he bade the
Gallants resume their march. Mutely, contritely, with bowed heads,
they obeyed and followed him down the street, leaving the Vicar at
gaze.

What had happened? Why, this.--

After the fiasco in Talland Cove Captain Arbuthnot had formed up his
Dragoons and given the word to ride back to Bodmin Barracks, their
temporary quarters, whence Mr. Smellie had summoned them.

He was in the devil of a rage. From the Barracks to Talland Cove is
a good fourteen miles as the crow flies, and you may allow another
two miles for the windings of the road (which, by the way, was a
pestilently bad one). To ride sixteen miles by night, chafing all
the while under the orders of a civilian, and to return another
sixteen, smarting, from a fool's errand, is (one must admit)
excusably trying to the military temper. Smellie, to be sure, and
Smellie alone, had been discomfited. Smellie's discomfiture had been
so signally personal as to divert all ridicule from the Dragoons.
Smellie, moreover, had made himself confoundedly obnoxious.

Smellie had given himself airs during the ride from Bodmin; and
Captain Arbuthnot had with an ill grace submitted to them, because
the fellow knew the country. They were quit of him now; but how to
find the way home Captain Arbuthnot did not very well know. He rode
forward boldly, however, keeping his eyes upon the stars, and
steering, so far as the circuitous lanes would allow him, north by
west.

Bearing away too far to the right, as men are apt to do in the
darkness, he missed the cross-ways by Ashen-cross, whence his true
line ran straight through Pelynt; and after an hour or so of
blind-man's-buff in a maze of cornfields, the gates of which seemed
to hide in the unlikeliest corners, emerged upon a fairly good high
road, which at first deceived him by running west-by-north and then
appeared to change its mind and, receding through west, took a
determined southerly curve back towards the coast. In short, Captain
Arbuthnot had entirely lost his bearings.

Deciding once more to trust the stars, he left the high road, struck
due north across country again and by and by found himself entangled
in a valley bottom beside the upper waters of the same stream which
Gunner Sobey had forded two hours before and some miles below.
The ground hereabouts