The day, when it came, might bring about such a happy result. But then it might not. On the face of it, matters were desperate, for here were a mere handful opposed to crowds--crowds, too, incensed and filled with a dull and defiant hatred, which made success on their part a certain death warrant for the defenders of the village church.
Heavy drops of thunder rain, pattering upon the roof above and upon the stone flags that surrounded the front of the church, awakened Tom Clifford at early dawn on the morning after he had led the French troopers to their defensive post. Not that the rumbling thunder outside nor the patter of the raindrops awakened him to a sense of his position. For our hero had been sunk in a deep sleep, which nothing had disturbed up till this moment. Now, however, the disturbance gave rise in his half-slumbering brain to a train of thought which was half-delicious, half the reverse. For Tom was back again in his home, beneath the shadow of that grand mulberry tree, with Father Thames flowing past the forecourt silently, swiftly, incessantly, as if ever engaged upon a purpose. Yes, he was beneath the hospitable and safe roof of Septimus John Clifford & Son, Wine Merchants, with Marguerite as his chum and close attendant, with the ever-faithful Huggins, his father's senior clerk, to smile indulgently upon him, and Septimus John Clifford himself to praise his efforts to acquire Portuguese and Spanish and French.
"Heigho!" he yawned loudly, stretching his arms wide apart. "Beastly stuff this Portuguese and French and Spanish," he babbled, still half-asleep. "Let's go out on the river, Marguerite."
Then a shadow crossed the horizon of this pleasant half-waking dream. A youth slipped into the arena at the far corner, a youth of olive complexion, whose thin limbs writhed and twisted incongruously, whose fingers twitched and plucked at moving lips, and whose very appearance bespoke indecision, a wavering courage, meanness, and all that that implies. It was José, Tom's cousin, and his image drew a growl from our hero.
"Always interfering and getting in the way," he grunted peevishly. "I have to watch him like a cat for fear he will illtreat his sister. Was there ever such a fellow?"