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Fortescue, J. W. (John William), 1859-1933

"The Drummer's Coat"


So Lady Eleanor went out and Colonel George with her; and there the
woman was, with her face ghastly white, her eyes wild and weary, and
every line in her countenance ploughed thrice as deep as when they had
last seen her. She was sitting in a chair which the frightened maid
had brought to her, but rose wearily as Lady Eleanor came to her.
"Are you in trouble, my poor soul?" said Lady Eleanor, shocked at her
appearance. "Tell me what has happened!" and she motioned to her to
sit down again.
The woman waited for a moment and then said in a hard voice, "'Tis my
boy Jan; I can't rightly tell what's wrong wi' mun"--and then she
stopped, but seeing the sympathy in Lady Eleanor's eyes broke out
hurriedly, "Oh, my Lady, I believe that they've a-killed mun. Since I
took mun home three days agone he won't eat and won't take no notice of
naught, but lieth still; and 'twas only when I left mun for a minute
that he made a kind of crying and clung to me like. I had to carry mun
home herefrom the day I left you."
"You carried him home?" broke in Colonel George astonished.
"Yes," said the woman simply; "'most all the way, for he soon gived out
walking; and ever since he's growed weaker and weaker, till this
morning at daylight he didn't take notice of me no longer, so then I
was obliged to leave mun"--she stopped a minute and went on in a harder
voice--"I couldn't help it; I come to ask you if you could spare mun a
drop of wine or what you think might do mun good, for"--she stopped
again and buried her face in her hands.


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