Looking back over my long life I scarcely remember any day more
pleasant than that I spent riding side by side with Father Donovan
from London to Rye. The fine old man had a fund of entertaining
stories, and although I had heard them over and over again there was
always something fresh in his way of telling them, and now and then I
recognized a narrative that had once made two separate stories, but
which had now become welded into one in the old man's mind. There was
never anything gloomy in these anecdotes, for they always showed the
cheerful side of life and gave courage to the man that wanted to do
right; for in all of Father Donovan's stories the virtuous were always
made happy. We talked of our friends and acquaintances, and if he ever
knew anything bad about a man he never told it; while if I mentioned
it he could always say something good of him to balance it, or at
least to mitigate the opinion that might be formed of it. He was
always doing some man a good turn or speaking a comforting word for
him.
"O'Ruddy," he said, "I spent most of the day yesterday writing letters
to those that could read them in our part of Ireland, setting right
the rumours that had come back to us, which said you were fighting
duels and engaged in brawls, but the strangest story of all was the
one about your forming a friendship with a highwayman, who, they said,
committed robberies on the road and divided the spoil with you, and
here I find you without a servant at all at all, leading a quiet,
respectable life at a quiet, respectable inn. It's not even in a
tavern that I first come across you, but kneeling devoutly, saying a
prayer in your mother church. I see you leaving your inn having paid
your bill like a gentleman, when they said you took night-leave of
most of the hostelries in England. Dear me, and there was the landlord
bowing to you as if you were a prince, and all his servants in a row
with the utmost respect for you. Ah, O'Ruddy, it's men like you that
gives the good name to Ireland, and causes her to be looked up to by
all the people of the world."
I gave Father Donovan heartfelt thanks for his kindness, and prayed to
myself that we would not come upon Jem Bottles on the road, and that
we would be left unmolested on our journey until we saw the sea-coast.
Of course, if we were set upon, it would not be my fault, and it's not
likely he would blame me; but if we came on Bottles, he was inclined
to be very easy in conversation, and, in spite of my warnings, would
let slip words that would shock the old priest. But when a day begins
too auspiciously, its luck is apt to change before the sun sets, as it
was with me.
It was nearing mid-day, and we were beginning to feel a trifle hungry,
yet were in a part of the country that gave little promise of an inn,
for it was a lonely place with heath on each side of the road, and,
further on, a bit of forest. About half-way through this wooded plain
an astonishing sight met my eyes. Two saddled horses were tied to a
tree, and by the side of the road appeared to be a heap of nine or
ten saddles, on one of which a man was sitting, comfortably eating a
bit of bread, while on another a second man, whose head was tied up in
a white cloth, lay back in a recumbent position, held upright by the
saddlery. Coming closer, I was disturbed to see that the man eating
was Jem Bottles, while the other was undoubtedly poor Paddy, although
his clothes were so badly torn that I had difficulty in recognizing
them as my own. As we drew up Jem stood and saluted with his mouth
full, while Paddy groaned deeply. I was off my horse at once and ran
to Paddy.
"Where are ye hurted?" said I.
"I'm killed," said Paddy.
"I've done the best I could for him," put in Jem Bottles. "He'll be
all right in a day or two."
"I'll not," said Paddy, with more strength than one would suspect;
"I'll not be all right in a day or two, nor in a week or two, nor in a
month or two, nor in a year or two; I'm killed entirely."
"You're not," said Bottles. "When I was on the highway I never minded
a little clip like that."
"Hush, Bottles," said I, "you talk altogether too much. Paddy," cried
I, "get on your feet, and show yer manners here to Father Donovan."
Paddy got on his feet with a celerity which his former attitude would
not have allowed one to believe possible.
"My poor boy!" said the kindly priest; "who has misused you?" and he
put his two hands on the sore head.
"About two miles from here," said Paddy, "I was set on by a score of
men--"
"There was only nine of them," interrupted Jem, "count the saddles."
"They came on me so sudden and unexpected that I was off my horse
before I knew there was a man within reach. They had me down before I
could say my prayers, and cudgelled me sorely, tearing my clothes, and
they took away the packet of papers you gave me, sir. Sure I tried to
guard it with my life, an' they nearly took both."
"I am certain you did your best, Paddy," said I; "and it's sorry I am
to see you injured."
"Then they rode away, leaving me, sore wounded, sitting on the side of
the road," continued Paddy. "After a while I come to myself, for I
seemed dazed; and, my horse peacefully grazing beside me, I managed to
get on its back, and turned toward London in the hope of meeting you;
but instead of meeting you, sir, I came upon Jem with his pile of
saddles, and he bound up my head and did what he could to save me,
although I've a great thirst on me at this moment that's difficult to
deal with."
"There's a ditch by the side of the road," said the priest.
"Yes," said Paddy sadly; "I tried some of that."
I went to my pack on the horse and took out a bottle and a leather
cup. Paddy drank and smacked his lips with an ecstasy that gave us
hope for his ultimate recovery. Jem Bottles laughed, and to close his
mouth I gave him also some of the wine.
"I hope," said Father Donovan with indignation, "that the miscreant
who misused you will be caught and punished."
"I punished them," said Jem, drawing the back of his hand across his
mouth.
"We'll hear about it another time," said I, having my suspicions.
"Let the good man go on," begged Father Donovan, who is not without
human curiosity.
Jem needed no second bidding.
"Your Reverence," he said, "I was jogging quietly on as a decent man
should, when, coming to the edge of this forest, I saw approach me a
party of horsemen, who were very hilarious and laughed loudly. If you
look up and down the road and see how lonely it is, and then look at
the wood, with no hedge between it and the highway, you'll notice the
place was designed by Providence for such a meeting."
"Sure the public road is designed as a place for travellers to meet,"
said the father, somewhat bewildered by the harangue.
"Your Reverence is right, but this place could not afford better
accommodation if I had made it myself. I struck into the wood before
they saw me, tore the black lining from my hat, punched two holes in
it for the eyes, and tied it around my forehead, letting it hang down
over my face; then I primed my two pistols and waited for the
gentlemen. When they were nearly opposite, a touch of the heels to my
horse's flank was enough, and out he sprang into the middle of the
road.
"'Stand and deliver!' I cried, pointing the pistols at them, the words
coming as glibly to my lips as if I had said them no later ago than
yesterday. 'Stand and deliver, ye--'" and here Jem glibly rattled out
a stream of profane appellatives which was disgraceful to listen to.
"Tut, tut, Jem," I said, "you shouldn't speak like that. Any way we'll
hear the rest another time."
"That's what I called them, sir," said Jem, turning to me with
surprise, "you surely would not have me tell an untruth."
"I wouldn't have you tell anything. Keep quiet. Father Donovan is not
interested in your recital."
"I beg your pardon, O'Ruddy," said Father Donovan, looking at me
reproachfully; "but I am very much interested in this man's
narrative."
"As any good man should be," continued Jem, "for these were arrant
scoundrels; one of them I knew, and his name is Doctor Chord. He fell
off his horse on the roadway at once and pleaded for mercy. I ordered
the others instantly to hold their hands above their heads, and they
did so, except one man who began fumbling in his holster, and then, to
show him what I could do with a pistol, I broke his wrist. At the
sound of the shot the horses began to plunge, nearly trampling Doctor
Chord into the dust.
"'Clasp your hands above your heads, ye--'"
Here went on another stream of terrible language again, and in despair
I sat down on the pile of saddles, allowing things to take their
course. Jem continued:
"The lesson of the pistol was not misread by my gentlemen, when they
noticed I had a second loaded one; so, going to them one after the
other I took their weapons from them and flung them to the foot of
that tree, where, if you look, you may see them now. Then I took a
contribution from each one, just as you do in church, your Reverence.
I'm sure you have a collection for the poor, and that was the one I
was taking up this day. I have not counted them yet," said the
villain turning to me, "but I think I have between sixty and seventy
guineas, which are all freely at your disposal, excepting a trifle for
myself and Paddy there. There's no plaster like gold for a sore head,
your Reverence. I made each one of them dismount and take off his
saddle and throw it in the pile; then I had them mount again and drove
them with curses toward London, and very glad they were to escape."
"He did not get the papers again," wailed Paddy, who was not taking as
jubilant a view of the world as was Jem at that moment.
"I knew nothing of the papers," protested Bottles. "If you had told me
about the papers, I would have had them, and if I had been carrying
the papers these fellows would not have made away with them."
"Then," said the horrified priest, "you did not commit this action in
punishment for the injury done to your friend? You knew nothing of
that at the time. You set on these men thinking they were simple
travellers."
"O, I knew nothing of what happened to Paddy till later, but you see,
your Reverence, these men themselves were thieves and robbers. In
their case it was nine men against one poor half-witted Irish lad--"
"Half-witted yourself," cried Paddy angrily.
"But you, sir," continued his Reverence, "were simply carrying out the
action of a highwayman. Sir, you _are_ a highwayman."
"I was, your Reverence, but I have reformed."
"And this pile of saddles attests your reformation!" said the old man,
shaking his head.
"But you see, your Reverence, this is the way to look at it--"
"Keep quiet, Jem!" cried I in disgust.
"How can I keep quiet," urged Bottles, "when I am unjustly accused? I
do not deny that I was once a highwayman, but Mr. O'Ruddy converted me
to better ways--"
"Highways," said Paddy, adding, with a sniff, "Half-witted!"
"Your Reverence, I had no more intention of robbing those men than you
have at this moment. I didn't know they were thieves themselves. Then
what put it into my head to jump into the wood and on with a mask
before you could say, Bristol town? It's the mysterious ways of
Providence, your Reverence. Even I didn't understand it at the time,
but the moment I heard Paddy's tale I knew at once I was but an
instrument in the hand of Providence, for I had not said, 'Stand and
deliver!' this many a day, nor thought of it."
"It may be so; it may be so," murmured the priest, more to himself
than to us; but I saw that he was much troubled, so, getting up, I
said to Paddy:
"Are you able to ride farther on to-day?"
"If I'd another sup from the cup, sir, I think I could," whereat Jem
Bottles laughed again, and I gave them both a drink of wine.
"What are you going to do with all this saddlery?" said I to Bottles.
"I don't know anything better than to leave it here; but I think, your
honour, the pistols will come handy, for they're all very good ones,
and Paddy and me can carry them between us, or I can make two bags
from these leather packs, and Paddy could carry the lot in them, as I
do the swords."
"Very well," I said. "Make your preparations as quickly as you can and
let us be off, for this latest incident, in spite of you, Jem, may
lead to pursuit and get us into trouble before we are ready for it."
"No fear, sir," said Jem confidently. "One thief does not lay
information against another. If they had been peaceable travellers,
that would be another thing; but, as I said, Providence is protecting
us, no doubt because of the presence of his Reverence here, and not
for our own merits."
"Be thankful it is the reward of some one else's merits you, reap,
Bottles, instead of your own. No more talk now, but to horse and
away."
For some miles Father Donovan rode very silently. I told him something
of my meeting with Jem Bottles and explained how I tried to make an
honest man of him, while this was the first lapse I had known since
his conversion. I even pretended that I had some belief in his own
theory of the interposition of Providence, and Father Donovan was
evidently struggling to acquire a similar feeling, although he seemed
to find some difficulty in the contest. He admitted that this robbery
appeared but even justice; still he ventured to hope that Jem Bottles
would not take the coincidence as a precedent, and that he would never
mistake the dictates of Providence for the desires of his own nature.
"I will speak with the man later," he said, "and hope that my words
will make some impression upon him. There was a trace of exaltation in
his recital that showed no sign of a contrite spirit."
On account of the delay at the roadside it was well past twelve
o'clock before we reached Maidstone, and there we indulged in a good
dinner that put heart into all of us, while the horses had time to
rest and feed. The road to Rye presented no difficulties whatever, but
under ordinary conditions I would have rested a night before
travelling to the coast. There would be a little delay before the Earl
discovered the useless nature of the papers which he had been at such
expense to acquire, but after the discovery there was no doubt in my
mind that he would move upon Brede as quickly as horses could carry
his men, so I insisted upon pressing on to Rye that night, and we
reached the town late with horses that were very tired. It was a long
distance for a man of the age of Father Donovan to travel in a day,
but he stood the journey well, and enjoyed his supper and his wine
with the best of us.
We learned that there was no boat leaving for France for several days,
and this disquieted me, for I would have liked to see Father Donovan
off early next morning, for I did not wish to disclose my project to
the peace-loving man. I must march on Brede next day if I was to get
there in time, and so there was no longer any possibility of
concealing my designs. However, there was no help for it, and I
resolved to be up bright and early in the morning and engage a dozen
men whom I could trust to stand by me. I also intended to purchase
several cartloads of provisions, so that if a siege was attempted we
could not be starved out. All this I would accomplish at as early an
hour as possible, get the carts on their way to Brede, and march at
the head of the men myself; so I went to bed with a somewhat troubled
mind, but fell speedily into a dreamless sleep nevertheless, and slept
till broad daylight.