"Your 'papers'?" said Forister. "Damn you and your papers. What would
I know of your papers?"
"I mean," said I fiercely, "the papers that you stole out of my
chamber in the inn at Bristol."
The man actually sank back in his chair and laughed me up to the roof.
"'Papers'!" he shouted. "Here's the king of the Irelands thinking that
I have made off with his papers!"
"You choose a good time for laughing," said I, with more sobriety. "In
a short time you will be laughing with the back of your head."
He sat up and looked at me with quick decision.
"Now, what is all this rubbish about papers?" he said sharply. "What
have I to do with your filthy papers? I had one intention regarding
you,--of that I am certain. I was resolved to kill you on the first
occasion when we could cross swords, but--'papers'--faugh! What do you
mean?"
The hoarse voice of Jem Bottles broke in from somewhere behind me. "We
might easily throw him to the earth and tie him, sir, and then make
search of him."
"And you would know how to go about the business, I warrant me,"
laughed Forister. "You muzzle-faced rogue, you!"
To my astonishment the redoubtable highwayman gave back before the
easy disdain of this superior scoundrel.
"My ways may not always have been straight and narrow, master," he
rejoined, almost in a whine, "but you have no call to name me
muzzle-faced."
Forister turned from him contemptuously and fixed his regard with much
enthusiasm upon Paddy.
"Very red," said he. "Very red, indeed. And thick as fagots, too. A
very delectable head of hair, fit to be spun into a thousand blankets
for the naked savages in heathen parts. The wild forests in Ireland
must indeed be dark when it requires a lantern of this measure to
light the lonely traveller on his way."
But Paddy was an honest man even if he did not know it, and he at once
walked to Forister and held against his ear a fist the size of a pig's
hind-leg.
"I cannot throw the talk back to you," he said. "You are too fast for
me, but I tell you to your face that you had better change your tongue
for a lock of an old witch's hair unless you intend to be battered
this moment."
"Peace," said Forister calmly. "I am a man of natural wit, and I would
entertain myself. Now, there is your excellent chieftain the king of
the Irelands. Him I regard as a very good specimen, whose ancestors
were not very long ago swinging by their tails from the lofty palms of
Ireland and playing with cocoanuts to and fro." He smiled and leaned
back, well satisfied with himself.
All this time I had been silent, because I had been deep in reflection
upon Forister. Now I said:
"Forister, you are a great rogue. I know you. One thing is certain.
You have not my papers and never did you have them."
He looked upon me with some admiration and cried:
"Aye, the cannibal shows a glimmer of reason. No, I have not your
foolish papers, and I only wish I had them in order to hurl the bundle
at your damned stupid head."
"For a kicked man you have a gay spirit," I replied. "But at any rate
I have no time for you now. I am off to Bristol after my papers, and I
only wish for the sake of ease that I had to go no farther than this
chamber. Come, Paddy! Come, Jem!"
My two henchmen were manifestly disappointed; they turned reluctantly
at my word.
"Have I the leave of one crack at him, your honour?" whispered Paddy
earnestly. "He said my head was a lantern."
"No," said I, "leave him to his meditations."
As we passed down the corridor we heard him laugh loudly, and he
called out to me,--
"When I come to Bristol I will kill you."
I had more than a mind to go back and stuff this threat into his
throat, but I better knew my business, which was to recover the
papers.
"Come," said I, and we passed down stairs.
The people of the inn made way for Paddy as if he had been a falling
tree, and at the same time they worshipped Jem Bottles for having
performed everything. I had some wonder as to which would be able to
out-strut the other. I think Jem Bottles won the match, for he had the
advantage of being known as one of the most dangerous men in
southwestern England, whereas Paddy had only his vanity to help him.
"'Tis all arranged," said Bottles pompously. "Your devil will come
forth as quiet as a rabbit."
We ordered our horses, and a small crowd of obsequious stable-boys
rushed to fetch them. I marvelled when I saw them lead out Paddy's
horse. I had thought from what I perceived over my shoulder when I
left Bristol that he would never be able to make half a league in the
saddle. Amid the flicker of lanterns, Bottles and I mounted and then I
heard Paddy calling to him all the stable-boys:
"Now, when I give the word, you heave for your lives. Stand, you
beast! Cannot four of you hold him by the legs? I will be giving the
word in a moment. Are you all ready? Well, now, ready again--heave!"
There was a short scuffle in the darkness, and presently Paddy
appeared above the heads of the others in the _melee_.
"There, now," said he to them, "that was well done. One would easily
be telling that I was an ex-trooper of the king." He rode out to us
complacently. "'Tis a good horse, if only he steered with a tiller
instead of these straps," he remarked, "and he goes well before the
wind."
"To Bristol," said I. "Paddy, you must follow as best you may. I have
no time to be watching you, although you are interesting."
An unhappy cry came from behind Bottles, and I spurred on, but again I
could not wait for my faithful countryman. My papers were still the
stake for which I played. However I hoped that Paddy would now give
over his ideas about catching little black men.
As we neared Bristol Jem Bottles once more became backward. He
referred to the seven ballads, and feared that the unexpected presence
of such a well-known character would create an excitement which would
not be easy to cool. So we made a rendezvous under another tree, and I
rode on alone. Thus I was separated from both my good companions.
However, before parting, I took occasion to borrow five guineas from
Jem's store.
I was as weary as a dog, although I had never been told that gentlemen
riding amid such adventures were ever aweary. At the inn in Bristol a
sleepy boy took my horse, and a sleepy landlord aroused himself as he
recognized me.
"My poor inn is at your disposal, sir," he cried as he bowed. "The
Earl has inquired for you to-day, or yesterday, as well as my young
Lord Strepp and Colonel Royale."
"Aye?" said I carelessly. "Did they so? Show me to a chamber. I am
much enwearied. I would seek a good bed and a sound sleep, for I have
ridden far and done much since last I had repose."
"Yes, sir," said the landlord deferentially.
After a long hard sleep I was aroused by a constant pounding on my
door. At my cry a servant entered. He was very abject. "His lordship's
valet has been waiting to give you a message from his lordship, sir."
I bid him let the valet enter. The man whose heroic nose had borne the
brunt of Forister's swift departure from the inn when I kicked him
came into my chamber with distinguished grace and dignity and informed
me that his noble master cared to see me in his chamber when it would
suit my convenience.
Of course the old Earl was after his papers. And what was I to tell
him,--that I was all befooled and befuddled?--that after my father had
kept these papers for so many years in faithful trust I had lost them
on the very brink of deliverance of them to their rightful owner? What
was I to speak?
I did not wish to see the Earl of Westport, but some sudden and
curious courage forced me into my clothes and out to the corridor. The
Earl's valet was waiting there. "I pray you, sir, follow me," he said.
I followed him to an expensive part of the inn, where he knocked upon
a door. It was opened by a bending serving-man. The room was a kind of
parlour, and in it, to my surprise, were Lord Strepp and Colonel
Royale. They gazed at me with a surprise equivalent to mine own.
Young Lord Strepp was the first one thoroughly to collect himself.
Then he advanced upon me with outstretched hand.
"Mr. O'Ruddy," he cried, "believe me, we are glad to see you. We
thought you had gone for all time."
Colonel Royale was only a moment behind his friend, but as he extended
his hand his face flushed painfully.
"Sir," he said somewhat formally, "not long ago I lost my temper, I
fear. I know I have to thank you for great consideration and
generosity. I--I--you--"
Whereupon we both began to stammer and grimace. All the time I was
chocking out:
"Pray--pray--, don't speak of it--a--nothing--in truth, you kindly
exaggerate--I--"
It was young Lord Strepp who brought us out of our embarrassment.
"Here, you two good fellows," he cried heartily, "a glass of wine with
you."
We looked gratefully at him, and in the business of filling our
glasses we lost our awkwardness. "To you," said Lord Strepp; and as we
drained our wine I knew that I had two more friends in England.
During the drinking the Earl's valet had been hovering near my
coat-tails. Afterward he took occasion to make gentle suggestion to
me:
"His lordship awaits your presence in his chamber, sir, when it
pleases you."
The other gentlemen immediately deferred to my obligation, and I
followed the valet into a large darkened chamber. It was some moments
before my eyes could discover that the Earl was abed. Indeed, a
rasping voice from beneath the canopies called to me before I knew
that anybody was in the chamber but myself and the valet.
"Come hither, O'Ruddy," called the Earl. "Tompkins, get out! Is it
your duty to stand there mummified? Get out!"
The servant hastily withdrew, and I walked slowly to the great man's
bedside. Two shining shrewd eyes looked at me from a mass of pillows,
and I had a knowledge of an aged face, half smiling and yet satirical,
even malignant.
"And so this is the young fortune-hunter from Ireland," he said in a
hoarse sick-man's voice. "The young fortune-hunter! Ha! With his
worthless papers! Ha!"
"Worthless?" cried I, starting.
"Worthless!" cried the Earl vehemently. He tried to lift himself in
his bed, in order to make more emphasis. "Worthless! Nothing but
straw--straw--straw!" Then he cackled out a laugh.
And this was my inheritance! I could have sobbed my grief and anger,
but I took firm hold on myself and resolved upon another way of
dealing with the nobleman.
"My lord," said I coolly, "My father is dead. When he was dying he
gave certain papers into my hands,--papers which he had guarded for
many years,--and bade me, as his son, to deliver them into the hands
of an old friend and comrade; and I come to this old friend and
comrade of my father, and he lies back in his bed and cackles at me
like a hen. 'Tis a small foot I would have set upon England if I had
known more of you, you old skate!"
But still he laughed and cried: "Straw! Straw! Nothing but straw!"
"Well, sir," said I with icy dignity, "I may be a fool of an Irishman
with no title save an older one than yours; but I would be deeply
sorry if there came a day when I should throw a trust back in the
teeth of a dead comrade's son."
"No," said the bright-eyed old man, comforting himself amid his
pillows. "Look you, O'Ruddy! You are a rascal! You came over in an
attempt to ruin me! I know it!"
I was awed by this accusation. It seemed to me to be too grand, too
gorgeous for my personal consumption. I knew not what to do with this
colossus. It towered above me in splendour and gilt. I had never
expected to be challenged with attempting to ruin earls. My father had
often ruined sea-captains, but he never in his life ruined so much as
a baronet. It seemed altogether too fine for my family, but I could
only blurt weakly, "Yessir." I was much like a lackey.
"Aye," said the old man, suddenly feeble from the excitement, "I see
you admit it, you black Irish rogue." He sank back and applied a
napkin to his mouth. It seemed to come away stained with blood. "You
scoundrel!"
I had a strange cowardly inclination to fling myself upon this ancient
survival and squeeze his throat until it closed like a pursel. And my
inclination was so strong that I stood like a stone.
The valet opened the door. "If it please your Lordship--Lady Mary," he
announced, and stood aside to let a lady pass. The Earl seemed
immediately to forget my presence. He began at once to make himself
uncomfortable in his bed. Then he cried fretfully: "Come, Mary, what
caused you to be so long? Make me easy! Ruffle my pillows! Come,
daughter."
"Yes, father," answered a soothing and sweet voice. A gracious figure
passed before me and bended over the bed of the Earl. I was near
blinded. It was not a natural blindness. It was an artificial
blindness which came from my emotion. Was she tall? I don't know. Was
she short? I don't know. But I am certain that she was exactly of the
right size. She was, in all ways, perfection. She was of such glory,
she was so splendid, that my heart ceased to beat. I remained standing
like a stone, but my sword scabbard, reminiscent of some movement,
flapped gently against my leg. I thought it was a horrible sound. I
sought to stay it, but it continued to tinkle, and I remember that,
standing there in the room with the old Earl and my love-'til-death, I
thought most of my scabbard and its inability to lay quiet at my
thigh.
She smoothed his bed and coaxed him and comforted him. Never had I
seen such tenderness. It was like a vision of a classic hereafter. In
a second I would have exchanged my youth for the position of this
doddering old nobleman who spat blood into a napkin.
Suddenly the Earl wheeled his eyes and saw me.
"Ha, Mary!" he cried feebly, "I wish to point out a rogue. There he
stands! The O'Ruddy! An Irishman and a fine robber! Mark him well, and
keep stern watch of your jewels."
The beautiful young lady turned upon me an affrighted glance. And I
stood like a stone.
"Aye," said the old wretch, "keep stern watch of your jewels. He is a
very demon for skill. He could take a ring from your finger while you
were thinking he was fluttering his hands in the air."
I bowed gallantly to the young lady. "Your rings are safe, my lady. I
would ill requite the kindness shown by your father to the son of an
old friend if I deprived your white fingers of a single ornament."
"Clever as ever, clever as ever," chuckled the wicked old man.
The young lady flushed and looked first at me and then at her father.
I thought her eye, as it rested upon me, was not without some
sympathetic feeling. I adored her. All the same I wished to kill her
father. It is very curious when one wishes to kill the father of the
woman one adores. But I suppose the situation was made more possible
for me by the fact that it would have been extremely inexpedient to
have killed the Earl in his sick bed. I even grinned at him.
"If you remember my father, your lordship," said I amiably, "despite
your trying hard to forget him, you will remember that he had a
certain native wit which on occasion led him to be able to frustrate
his enemies. It must have been a family trait, for I seem to have it.
You are an evil old man! You yourself stole my papers!"