Two mornings after the period to which I have brought the reader in the
preceding chapter, I sat by my fire at the bottom of the dingle. I had
just breakfasted, and had finished the last morsel of food which I had
brought with me to that solitude.
"What shall I now do?" said I to myself: "shall I continue here, or
decamp? This is a sad lonely spot--perhaps I had better quit it; but
whither should I go? the wide world is before me, but what can I do
therein? I have been in the world already without much success. No, I
had better remain here; the place is lonely, it is true, but here I am
free and independent, and can do what I please; but I can't remain here
without food. Well, I will find my way to the nearest town, lay in a
fresh supply of provision, and come back, turning my back upon the world,
which has turned its back upon me. I don't see why I should not write a
little sometimes; I have pens and an ink-horn, and for a writing-desk I
can place the Bible on my knee. I shouldn't wonder if I could write a
capital satire on the world on the back of that Bible; but first of all I
must think of supplying myself with food."
I rose up from the stone on which I was seated, determining to go to the
nearest town, with my little horse and cart and procure what I wanted.
The nearest town, according to my best calculation, lay about five miles
distant; I had no doubt, however, that by using ordinary diligence, I
should be back before evening. In order to go lighter, I determined to
leave my tent standing as it was, and all the things which I had
purchased of the tinker, just as they were. "I need not be apprehensive
on their account," said I to myself; "nobody will come here to meddle
with them--the great recommendation of this place is its perfect
solitude--I dare say that I could live here six months without seeing a
single human visage. I will now harness my little gry and be off to the
town."
At a whistle which I gave, the little gry, which was feeding on the bank
near the uppermost part of the dingle, came running to me, for by this
time he had become so accustomed to me that he would obey my call for all
the world as if he had been one of the canine species. "Now," said I to
him, "we are going to the town to buy bread for myself, and oats for
you--I am in a hurry to be back; therefore, I pray you to do your best,
and to draw me and the cart to the town with all possible speed, and to
bring us back; if you do your best, I promise you oats on your return.
You know the meaning of oats, Ambrol?"
Ambrol whinnied as if to let me know that he understood me perfectly
well, as indeed he well might, as I had never once fed him during the
time he had been in my possession without saying the word in question to
him. Now, Ambrol, in the Gypsy tongue, signifieth a pear.
So I caparisoned Ambrol, and then, going to the cart, removed two or
three things from out it into the tent; I then lifted up the shafts, and
was just going to call to the pony to come and be fastened to them, when
I thought I heard a noise.
I stood stock still, supporting the shaft of the little cart in my hand,
and bending the right side of my face slightly towards the ground; but I
could hear nothing. The noise which I thought I had heard was not one of
those sounds which I was accustomed to hear in that solitude--the note of
a bird, or the rustling of a bough; it was--there I heard it again--a
sound very much resembling the grating of a wheel amongst gravel. Could
it proceed from the road? Oh no, the road was too far distant for me to
hear the noise of anything moving along it. Again I listened, and now I
distinctly heard the sound of wheels, which seemed to be approaching the
dingle; nearer and nearer they drew, and presently the sound of wheels
was blended with the murmur of voices. Anon I heard a boisterous shout,
which seemed to proceed from the entrance of the dingle. "Here are folks
at hand," said I, letting the shaft of the cart fall to the ground: "is
it possible that they can be coming here?"
My doubts on that point, if I entertained any, were soon dispelled: the
wheels, which had ceased moving for a moment or two, were once again in
motion, and were now evidently moving down the winding path which led to
my retreat. Leaving my cart, I came forward and placed myself near the
entrance of the open space, with my eyes fixed on the path down which my
unexpected and I may say unwelcome visitors were coming. Presently I
heard a stamping or sliding, as if of a horse in some difficulty; and
then a loud curse, and the next moment appeared a man and a horse and
cart; the former holding the head of the horse up to prevent him from
falling, of which he was in danger, owing to the precipitous nature of
the path. Whilst thus occupied, the head of the man was averted from me.
When, however, he had reached the bottom of the descent, he turned his
head, and perceiving me, as I stood bareheaded, without either coat or
waistcoat, about two yards from him, he gave a sudden start, so violent
that the backward motion of his hand had nearly flung the horse upon his
haunches.
"Why don't you move forward?" said a voice from behind, apparently that
of a female; "you are stopping up the way, and we shall be all down upon
one another;" and I saw the head of another horse overtopping the back of
the cart.
"Why don't you move forward, Jack?" said another voice, also of a female,
yet higher up the path.
The man stirred not, but remained staring at me in the posture which he
had assumed on first perceiving me, his body very much drawn back, his
left foot far in advance of his right, and with his right hand still
grasping the halter of the horse, which gave way more and more, till it
was clean down on its haunches.
"What's the matter?" said the voice which I had last heard.
"Get back with you, Belle, Moll," said the man, still staring at me:
"here's something not over-canny or comfortable here."
"What is it?" said the same voice; "let me pass, Moll, and I'll soon
clear the way," and I heard a kind of rushing down the path.
"You need not be afraid," said I, addressing myself to the man,--"I mean
you no harm; I am a wanderer like yourself---come here to seek for
shelter--you need not be afraid; I am a Rome chabo {82} by
matriculation--one of the right sort, and no mistake. Good day to ye,
brother; I bids ye welcome."
The man eyed me suspiciously for a moment--then, turning to his horse
with a loud curse, he pulled him up from his haunches, and led him and
the cart farther down to one side of the dingle, muttering as he passed
me, "Afraid? Hm!"
I do not remember ever to have seen a more ruffianly-looking fellow: he
was about six feet high, with an immensely athletic frame; his face was
black and bluff, and sported an immense pair of whiskers, but with here
and there a grey hair, for his age could not be much under fifty. He
wore a faded blue frock coat, corduroys, and highlows--on his black head
was a kind of red nightcap, round his bull neck a Barcelona
handkerchief--I did not like the look of the man at all.
"Afraid," growled the fellow, proceeding to unharness his horse; "that
was the word, I think."
But other figures were now already upon the scene. Dashing past the
other horse and cart, which by this time had reached the bottom of the
pass, appeared an exceedingly tall woman, or rather girl, for she could
scarcely have been above eighteen; she was dressed in a tight bodice, and
a blue stuff gown; hat, bonnet or cap she had none, and her hair, which
was flaxen, hung down on her shoulders unconfined; her complexion was
fair, and her features handsome, with a determined but open expression.
She was followed by another female, about forty, stout and
vulgar-looking, at whom I scarcely glanced, my whole attention being
absorbed by the tall girl.
"What's the matter, Jack?" said the latter, looking at the man.
"Only afraid, that's all," said the man, still proceeding with his work.
"Afraid at what?--at that lad? Why, he looks like a ghost--I would
engage to thrash him with one hand."
"You might beat me with no hands at all," said I, "fair damsel, only by
looking at me: I never saw such a face and figure, both regal--why, you
look like Ingeborg, Queen of Norway; she had twelve brothers, you know,
and could lick them all, though they were heroes--
"'On Dovrefeld in Norway,
Were once together seen,
The twelve heroic brothers
Of Ingeborg the queen.'"
"None of your chaffing, young fellow," said the tall girl, "or I will
give you what shall make you wipe your face; be civil, or you will rue
it."
"Well, perhaps I was a peg too high," said I: "I ask your pardon--here's
something a bit lower--
"'As I was jawing to the gav yeck divvus {84a}
I met on the drom miro Rommany chi--'" {84b}
"None of your Rommany chies, young fellow," said the tall girl, looking
more menacingly than before, and clenching her fist; "you had better be
civil. I am none of your chies; and, though I keep company with gypsies
or, to speak more proper, half and halfs, I would have you to know that I
come of Christian blood and parents, and was born in the great house of
Long Melford."
"I have no doubt," said I, "that it was a great house; judging from your
size, I shouldn't wonder if you were born in a church."
"Stay, Belle," said the man, putting himself before the young virago, who
was about to rush upon me, "my turn is first." Then, advancing to me in
a menacing attitude, he said with a look of deep malignity, "'Afraid' was
the word, wasn't it?"
"It was," said I, "but I think I wronged you; I should have said,
aghast--you exhibited every symptom of one labouring under uncontrollable
fear."
The fellow stared at me with a look of stupid ferocity, and appeared to
be hesitating whether to strike or not: ere he could make up his mind,
the tall girl stepped forward, crying, "He's chaffing; let me at him!"
and, before I could put myself on my guard, she struck me a blow on the
face which had nearly brought me to the ground.
"Enough," said I, putting my hand to my cheek; "you have now performed
your promise, and made me wipe my face: now be pacified, and tell me
fairly the ground of this quarrel."
"Grounds!" said the fellow; "didn't you say I was afraid? and if you
hadn't, who gave you leave to camp on my ground?"
"Is it your ground?" said I.
"A pretty question," said the fellow; "as if all the world didn't know
that. Do you know who I am?"
"I guess I do," said I; "unless I am much mistaken, you are he whom folks
call the 'Flaming Tinman.' To tell you the truth, I'm glad we have met,
for I wished to see you. These are your two wives, I suppose; I greet
them. There's no harm done--there's room enough here for all of us--we
shall soon be good friends, I dare say; and when we are a little better
acquainted, I'll tell you my history."
"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" said the fellow.
"I don't think he's chaffing now," said the girl, whose anger seemed to
have subsided on a sudden; "the young man speaks civil enough."
"Civil!" said the fellow, with an oath; "but that's just like you: with
you it is a blow, and all over. Civil! I suppose you would have him
stay here, and get into all my secrets, and hear all I may have to say to
my two morts."
"Two morts," {86} said the girl, kindling up--"where are they? Speak for
one, and no more. I am no mort of yours, whatever some one else may be.
I tell you one thing, Black John, or Anselo, for t'other an't your name,
the same thing I told the young man here, be civil, or you will rue it."
The fellow looked at the girl furiously, but his glance soon quailed
before hers; he withdrew his eyes, and cast them on my little horse,
which was feeding amongst the trees. "What's this?" said he, rushing
forward and seizing the animal. "Why, as I am alive, this is the horse
of that mumping villain Slingsby."
"It's his no longer; I bought it and paid for it."
"It's mine now," said the fellow; "I swore I would seize it the next time
I found it on my beat--ay, and beat the master too."
"I am not Slingsby."
"All's one for that."
"You don't say you will beat me?"
"Afraid was the word."
"I'm sick and feeble."
"Hold up your fists."
"Won't the horse satisfy you?"
"Horse nor bellows either."
"No mercy, then."
"Here's at you."
"Mind your eyes, Jack. There, you've got it. I thought so," shouted the
girl, as the fellow staggered back from a sharp blow in the eye. "I
thought he was chaffing at you all along."
"Never mind, Anselo. You know what to do--go in," said the vulgar woman,
who had hitherto not spoken a word, but who now came forward with all the
look of a fury; "go in, apopli; {87} you'll smash ten like he."
The Flaming Tinman took her advice, and came in bent on smashing, but
stopped short on receiving a left-handed blow on the nose.
"You'll never beat the Flaming Tinman in that way," said the girl,
looking at me doubtfully.
And so I began to think myself, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the
Flaming Tinman disengaged himself of his frock-coat, and, dashing off his
red nightcap, came rushing in more desperately than ever. To a flush hit
which he received in the mouth he paid as little attention as a wild bull
would have done; in a moment his arms were around me, and in another, he
had hurled me down, falling heavily upon me. The fellow's strength
appeared to be tremendous.
"Pay him off now," said the vulgar woman. The Flaming Tinman made no
reply, but planting his knee on my breast, seized my throat with two huge
horny hands. I gave myself up for dead, and probably should have been so
in another minute but for the tall girl, who caught hold of the
handkerchief which the fellow wore round his neck with a grasp nearly as
powerful as that with which he pressed my throat.
"Do you call that fair play?" said she.
"Hands off, Belle," said the other woman; "do you call it fair play to
interfere? hands off, or I'll be down upon you myself."
But Belle paid no heed to the injunction, and tugged so hard at the
handkerchief, that the Flaming Tinman was nearly throttled; suddenly
relinquishing his hold of me, he started on his feet, and aimed a blow at
my fair preserver, who avoided it, but said coolly:--
"Finish t'other business first, and then I'm your woman whenever you
like; but finish it fairly--no foul play when I'm by--I'll be the boy's
second, and Moll can pick you up when he happens to knock you down."
The battle during the next ten minutes raged with considerable fury, but
it so happened that during this time I was never able to knock the
Flaming Tinman down, but on the contrary received six knock-down blows
myself. "I can never stand this," said I, as I sat on the knee of Belle:
"I am afraid I must give in; the Flaming Tinman hits very hard," and I
spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Sure enough you'll never beat the Flaming Tinman in the way you
fight--it's of no use flipping at the Flaming Tinman with your left hand:
why don't you use your right?"
"Because I'm not handy with it," said I; and then getting up, I once more
confronted the Flaming Tinman, and struck him six blows for his one, but
they were all left-handed blows, and the blow which the Flaming Tinman
gave me knocked me off my legs.
"Now, will you use Long Melford?" said Belle, picking me up.
"I don't know what you mean by Long Melford," said I, gasping for breath.
"Why, this long right of yours," said Belle, feeling my right arm--"if
you do, I shouldn't wonder if you yet stand a chance."
And now the Flaming Tinman was once more ready, much more ready than
myself. I, however, rose from my second's knee as well as my weakness
would permit me; on he came striking left and right, appearing almost as
fresh as to wind and spirit as when he first commenced the combat, though
his eyes were considerably swelled, and his nether lip was cut in two; on
he came, striking left and right, and I did not like his blows at all, or
even the wind of them, which was anything but agreeable, and I gave way
before him. At last he aimed a blow which, had it taken full effect,
would doubtless have ended the battle, but, owing to his slipping, the
fist only grazed my left shoulder, and came with terrific force against a
tree, close to which I had been driven; before the Tinman could recover
himself, I collected all my strength, and struck him beneath the ear, and
then fell to the ground completely exhausted, and it so happened that the
blow which I struck the Tinker beneath the ear was a right-handed blow.
"Hurrah for Long Melford!" I heard Belle exclaim; "there is nothing like
Long Melford for shortness all the world over."
At these words, I turned round my head as I lay, and perceived the
Flaming Tinman stretched upon the ground apparently senseless. "He is
dead," said the vulgar woman, as she vainly endeavoured to raise him up;
"he is dead; the best man in all the north country, killed in this
fashion, by a boy." Alarmed at these words, I made shift to get on my
feet; and, with the assistance of the woman, placed my fallen adversary
in a sitting posture. I put my hand to his heart, and felt a slight
pulsation. "He's not dead," said I, "only stunned; if he were let blood,
he would recover presently." I produced a penknife which I had in my
pocket, and, baring the arm of the Tinman, was about to make the
necessary incision, when the woman gave me a violent blow, and, pushing
me aside, exclaimed, "I'll tear the eyes out of your head, if you offer
to touch him. Do you want to complete your work, and murder him
outright, now he's asleep? you have had enough of his blood already."
"You are mad," said I; "I only seek to do him service. Well, if you
won't let him be blooded, fetch some water and fling it into his face;
you know where the pit is."
"A pretty manoeuvre," said the woman: "leave my mard {90a} in the hands
of you and that limmer, {90b} who has never been true to us: I should
find him strangled or his throat cut when I came back." "Do you go,"
said I to the tall girl, "take the can and fetch some water from the
pit." "You had better go yourself," said the girl, wiping a tear as she
looked on the yet senseless form of the tinker; "you had better go
yourself, if you think water will do him good." I had by this time
somewhat recovered my exhausted powers, and, taking the can, I bent my
steps as fast as I could to the pit; arriving there, I lay down on the
brink, took a long draught, and then plunged my head into the water;
after which I filled the can, and bent my way back to the dingle. Before
I could reach the path which led down into its depths, I had to pass some
way along its side; I had arrived at a part immediately over the scene of
the last encounter, where the bank, overgrown with trees, sloped
precipitously down. Here I heard a loud sound of voices in the dingle; I
stopped, and laying hold of a tree, leaned over the bank and listened.
The two women appeared to be in hot dispute in the dingle. "It was all
owing to you, you limmer," said the vulgar woman to the other; "had you
not interfered, the old man would soon have settled the boy."
"I'm for fair play and Long Melford," said the other. "If yow old man,
as you call him, could have settled the boy fairly, he might, for all I
should have cared, but no foul work for me; and as for sticking the boy
with our gulleys {91} when he comes back, as you proposed, I am not so
fond of your old man or you that I should oblige you in it, to my soul's
destruction." "Hold your tongue, or I'll . . ."; I listened no farther,
but hastened as fast as I could to the dingle. My adversary had just
begun to show signs of animation; the vulgar woman was still supporting
him, and occasionally cast glances of anger at the tall girl, who was
walking slowly up and down. I lost no time in dashing the greater part
of the water into the Tinman's face, whereupon he sneezed, moved his
hands, and presently looked round him. At first his looks were dull and
heavy, and without any intelligence at all; he soon, however, began to
recollect himself, and to be conscious of his situation; he cast a
scowling glance at me, then one of the deepest malignity at the tall
girl, who was still walking about without taking much notice of what was
going forward. At last he looked at his right hand, which had evidently
suffered from the blow against the tree, and a half-stifled curse escaped
his lips. The vulgar woman now said something to him in a low tone,
whereupon he looked at her for a moment, and then got upon his legs.
Again the vulgar woman said something to him; her looks were furious, and
she appeared to be urging him on to attempt something. I observed that
she had a clasped knife in her hand. The fellow remained standing for
some time, as if hesitating what to do; at last he looked at his hand,
and, shaking his head, said something to the woman which I did not
understand. The tall girl, however, appeared to overhear him, and,
probably repeating his words, said, "No, it won't do: you are right
there; and now hear what I have to say,--let bygones be bygones, and let
us all shake hands, and camp here, as the young man was saying just now."
The man looked at her, and then, without any reply, went to his horse,
which was lying down among the trees, and kicking it up, led it to the
cart, to which he forthwith began to harness it. The other cart and
horse had remained standing motionless during the whole affair which I
have been recounting, at the bottom of the pass. The woman now took the
horse by the head, and leading it with the cart into the open part of the
dingle, turned both round, and then led them back, till the horse and
cart had mounted a little way up the ascent; she then stood still and
appeared to be expecting the man. During this proceeding Belle had stood
looking on without saying anything; at last, perceiving that the man had
harnessed his horse to the other cart, and that both he and the woman
were about to take their departure, she said, "You are not going, are
you?" Receiving no answer, she continued: "I tell you what, both of you,
Black John, and you Moll, his mort, this is not treating me over
civilly,--however, I am ready to put up with it, and to go with you if
you like, for I bear no malice. I'm sorry for what has happened, but you
have only yourselves to thank for it. Now, shall I go with you? only
tell me." The man made no manner of reply, but flogged his horse. The
woman, however, whose passions were probably under less control, replied,
with a screeching tone, "Stay where you are, you jade, and may the curse
of Judas cling to you,--stay with the bit of a mullo {93a} whom you
helped, and my only hope is that he may gulley {93b} you before he comes
to be--Have you with us, indeed! after what's past, no, nor nothing
belonging to you. Fetch down your mailla {94a} go-cart and live here
with your chabo." {94b} She then whipped on the horse, and ascended the
pass, followed by the man. The carts were light, and they were not long
in ascending the winding path. I followed, to see that they took their
departure. Arriving at the top, I found near the entrance a small donkey-
cart, which I concluded belonged to the girl. The tinker and his mort
were already at some distance; I stood looking after them for a little
time, then taking the donkey by the reins I led it with the cart to the
bottom of the dingle. Arrived there, I found Belle seated on the stone
by the fireplace. Her hair was all dishevelled, and she was in tears.
"They were bad people," said she, "and I did not like them, but they were
my only acquaintance in the wide world."