"Stop! stop!" shouted Charles, "we are not highwaymen."
The Beau recognized the voice, and in accents wherein could be detected the faintest note of relief said:
"Charles--Mr. Lovely! and why, may I inquire, are you abroad on such an unpleasant night?"
"Why, sir," called out Charles, "what have you been about? There's a dead man lying in the road."
"Good G----!" said Mr. Ripple, "a dead man?"
Pridgeon descended from the box and, having tied the horses to a withered fir-tree, snatched one of the lamps from its socket.
As he came along, Charles observed by the wavering light primroses in flower.
"Surely, surely," said the Beau, "I cannot have killed this man."
"N! No!" cried Clare who was kneeling beside the body. "He has been dead some time. Z----ds! 'Tis the little Major."
"The little Major?" echoed Ripple sharply. "So 'tis! So 'tis!"
"All alone in the storm," said Charles in a low voice.
"It may have been highwaymen," said Ripple.
"And it may have been Vernon," said Charles, "d--n him."
"Charles," said the Beau, "I owe you an apology. I have been obstinate. This should never have been allowed to happen."
Charles grasped his hand in the darkness.
After all, Mr. Ripple was not in his kingdom and they were all levelled by the presence of Death.
"We cannot leave the body here," said Tony.
"It must travel in the chaise," said Charles.
"What about Mrs. Courteen?" questioned Mr. Ripple.
"You are sure he is quite dead?" asked Charles and wondered at the futility of the remark.
"Perhaps it would be better to send a waggon," said Clare. "We are not many miles from Roseland-in-the-Vale."
"Somebody has cut off his epaulettes," said Charles.
"Then it may have been footpads," said the Beau. "No wayfarer would rob the dead."
"It is a very dark night," said Clare simply.
"He fought at Fontenoy. Let us lift him out of the mud," said Mr. Ripple, vaguely recalling long stories which the dead soldier had poured into his ears.
"He gave his life for her. We must certainly lift him out of the mud," said Charles.
"A dead body is dangerous to horses," said Clare, "I will take his head."
"Say nothing of this to Mrs. Courteen," said Mr. Ripple to the diminutive coachman.
"I knew something 'd 'appen," replied the latter. "I knew something 'd 'appen when I see'd as how somebody had stuck a bunch of primmerroses in Blue Jenkins's toes."