Drop of the Dice Read Online Free Page B

never see him again.
    ‘He was a man, wasn’t he?’ said Harriet quietly.
    I knew what she meant and I thought: There will never be anyone like Hessenfield. Then it occurred to me that it was a pity there had to be such wonderful people in the world, because compared with them everyone else seemed lacking. Of course it would not be a pity if they did not die and go away for ever.
    Harriet leaned towards me and said quietly: ‘When people die they sometimes seem so much better than when they were alive.’
    I was pondering this when Gregory put his head inside the coach again. ‘Another ten minutes and we should be on our way,’ he said.
    ‘Good,’ cried Harriet. ‘Then we’ll reach the Boar’s Head before it’s really dark.’
    ‘We’re lucky to get clear. The roads are in a shocking state,’ replied Gregory.
    A little later he and Benjie were taking their seats in the coach and the horses, after their little rest, were quite frisky and soon bowling along at a good pace.
    The sun was setting. It had almost disappeared. It had been a dark and cloudy day and there was rain about. It was growing dark rapidly. We came to the wood. I had a strange feeling that I had been there before; then I guessed it was the place where Hessenfield had stopped this very coach all those years ago.
    We turned into the wood and had not gone very far when two figures stepped out. They rode along by the window and I saw one of them clearly. He was masked and carried a gun.
    Highwaymen! The place was notorious for them. My immediate thought was: It’s not Hessenfield. This is a real one. Hessenfield is dead.
    Gregory had seen. He was reaching for the blunderbuss under our seat. Harriet took my hand and gripped it tightly. Merry was shouting something. He had whipped up the horses and we were swaying from one side of the coach to the other as the horses galloped through the wood.
    Benjie took out the sword which was kept in the coach for such an emergency as this.
    ‘Merry seems to think we can outride them,’ muttered Gregory.
    ‘Best thing if we can,’ replied Benjie. He was looking at Harriet and me and I knew he meant he did not want a fight which might put us in danger.
    The coach rattled on. We were swaying furiously—and then suddenly it happened. I was thrown up in my seat. I remember hitting the top of the coach which seemed to rise as high as the trees.
    I heard Harriet whisper: ‘Oh God help us.’
    And then I was enveloped in darkness.
    When I regained consciousness I was in a strange bed and Damaris was on one side of it, Jeremy on the other.
    I heard Damaris say: ‘I think she’s awake now.’
    I opened my eyes and said: ‘We were in the coach…’ as memory flooded back.
    ‘Yes, darling. You’re safe now.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘There was an accident… but don’t worry about that now.’
    ‘Where am I?’
    ‘We’re in the Boar’s Head. We are going home very soon now. As soon as you are well enough to travel.’
    ‘Are you staying here, then?’
    ‘Yes, and we shall be here until we take you back.’
    It was one of those occasions when I could feel happy to be wrapped in such loving care.
    I recovered rapidly. I had a broken leg, it seemed, and many bruises.
    ‘Young bones mend quickly,’ they said.
    I was at the Boar’s Head for another two days and gradually the news was broken to me. The coach would never be on the road again. The horses had been so badly injured that they had had to be shot.
    ‘It was the best way,’ Damaris told me with a catch in her voice. She loved all animals.
    ‘It was the highwaymen,’ I said. ‘Were they real highwaymen?’
    ‘Yes,’ answered Damaris. ‘They made off. They did not stay when it happened. It was because of them. It was their fault. Merry and Keller whipped up the horses hoping to escape the robbers. They didn’t see the fallen tree-trunk. That was how it happened.’
    ‘Are Benjie and Harriet and Gregory here at the inn?’
    There was a