If this should fail,
And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'Twere better not essay'd: therefore this project
Should have a back, or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof.
HAMLET.
It was night before Affidavy returned again to the prison; a
circumstance that might be supposed to puzzle the brain of the jailer
not a little, whenever he happened to cast his eyes upon the bottle
provided at the lawyer's own expense, and considered the notorious
degree of attraction existing between the material spirits of the
one, and the immaterial spirit of the other. Before he had yet
determined whether the phenomenon should be attributed to the
disorder of mind he was first disposed to suspect on the part of
Affidavy, or to some uncommon display of his zeal on the prisoner's
behalf, Affidavy made his appearance, and notwithstanding the
lateness of the hour, was immediately admitted,--not so much,
however, as a man of law visiting his client, as an old friend and
crony, whom Lingo introduced for his own private satisfaction. The
attorney, nevertheless, after squeezing the jailer's hand, and giving
way to a grin of extraordinary friendship, averred he must see his
client, before indulging a moment in pleasure; and assuring Lingo,
with uncommon spirit and generosity, that he designed treating him
like a prince, bade him, out of the funds he had placed in his hands,
lay in a store of all drinkables he could devise, with pipes and
tobacco, and so forth, so that they might have a jolly time of it
together. Then, after remaining half an hour with the prisoner, he
returned to the jailer's private quarters, snapped his fingers, as if
exulting at being delivered from toil and restraint, swore he was the
busiest dog that ever slaved at a case, but would take his comfort
and his ease, without troubling himself farther for the night, were
all the gallows-dogs in the world calling on him for assistance.
"Drink, Lingo, you rogue," said he; "give me a pipe, and snuff the
candle; for I abhor taking the first whiff out of a greasy old
cotton-wick. Drink, you big-fisted, honest old sly-boots; and I'll
tell you all about the case."
"Well, squire, I'm for you," said Lingo, swallowing a draught that
showed him to be serious; "but I reckon I know all about the case;
and it's a clear hanging matter, as you must own."
"If I do, botheration on me!" said the lawyer. "There's two sides to
every case; and all killing a'n't murder, nor manslaughter neither,
for the matter of that."
"Well, it's well to keep a good heart--I always said you had good
pluck, Affidavy, especially in desperate cases: but there was old
Timberkin here this afternoon, who went off with a long face; and
there was Pepperel, who as much as confessed there was no hope for
the young one. And why should there be? For my part, I don't reckon
it any great matter to have plumped a bullet into one of the Falconer
kidney; but when it comes to a bloody refugee playing such outdacious
tricks, why there, Affidavy, I stick; it's clear ag'in all principle;
and there's ne'er a man of any jury you can pack in the county, but
will say--_Hang!_"
"Tush, drink--here's to you. You've been gabbling with Pepperel and
Timberkin--numskulls, Lingo--between you and me, numskulls. What do
they know about the case? what have they been doing to study it? Here
have they been all day laying their fool's pates together over it,
like two owls at mid-day over a dead bull-frog, not knowing what to
make of it. Drink, you rascal. Now had you but been at old
Schlachtenschlager's last night! Ah!--However, that's neither here
nor there. Now, I, my boy, botheration, I study my cases in another
manner, and I have been studying this hard all day. But how? Ay,
there's the question, tush. Riding about, hunting witnesses from post
to pillar, serving _subpoenas_, and all that, and smelling out the
intents of the prosecution."
"What witnesses do you want?" said Lingo: "it's a clear case, and the
younker owns to it. I'm to swear myself, that he admitted the murder:
he made no denial"----
"He's an ass," said Affidavy; "a fool and a madman, who would knock
his head against a post, sooner than go round it, were his skull no
thicker even than a pumpkin-shell."
"Oh, ay!" said Lingo, nodding over his glass, "I see what you're at:
you'll make it out a _non cumpuss_ case? But that won't do, squire; I
swear ag'in' you there: there's no mad in him; there's more in some
of the witnesses. But I suppose you have been raking up for witnesses
about old Elsie Bell's? The lad begged I would send for her; but,
they say, she is in a dying way?"
"Bad enough, bad enough," said the lawyer: "and a good witness, too;
but we can do without her."
"Well, I reckon you'll want all you have," said the jailer; "for
they're strong for the commonwealth. There's Dancy Parkins, they've
taken him for state's evidence, along with this here gallivanting
fellow, Sterling, that came in for quarter, and a power of others
beside. I dunna why they're so easy on Dancy; but they say, he's not
deep in for't; and the prosecution's ag'in' hanging him. They say,
Colonel Falconer has sworn he will have the youngster's blood, if it
costs him the price of Hawk-Hollow twice over."
"Tush, what care we? The devil take Falconer, and the witnesses
too,--as undoubtedly the devil will. As for your Sterling, I can
smash his testimony as I would a rotten apple. Botheration, the man
has a neck of his own."
"Oh, ay, in the matter of the spying?" said Lingo: "but they say,
they will wink and let him off, if Colonel Falconer be so minded; and
they say, too, he was promised protection by the soldiers, and a
clear pardon, on condition he fetched 'em into all Oran Gilbert's
hiding-places. I don't see, for my part, how a soldier can promise
any such thing, seeing that a soldier is neither a judge nor a
governor. And moresomover, there's the matter of the attempt to do
murder on Colonel Falconer; for, I reckon, that can be proved on him;
and how he is to get clear of that, if the Colonel pushes him, I
don't know. Howsomever, his case is bad--the man has a bad
conscience; though, perhaps, 'tis only a small touch of the
horrors,--for he has been drinking hard ever since he has been in
prison."
"Oh, the devil take him, base turncoat and betrayer," said Affidavy:
"I hold honour among thieves to be as good a rule as honesty between
friends. And between you and me, Lingo, he has served the Hawks a
turn they will not forget. You know how they hanged that soldier,
Parker? Well now, two pigs to a pound of butter, as the saying is,
you'll hear of this fellow swinging in a swamp, some time before
doomsday."
"Ay; when they get him," said Lingo, "and with all my heart. But, you
see, there's no talk of proceeding against him; and when the trial's
over, I reckon he'll show the county a clean pair of heels--that is,
if he ever gets over his hurts; for, you must know, there's something
of the staggers about him,--a sort of horrors, as I said,--but I
don't know; and if you stay here long enough, you'll hear him squeal
out in his sleep, like a choking dog. Ods bobs! he made a squeak last
night, and I thought the devil had him: so I runs into his room, and
there I sees him sitting on his bed-side, all of a shiver, and as
white as a sheet, singing out, as if he was talking to old Nicodemus,
'Shake not your jolly locks at me,'
or something of that natur', I dunna what, but it was about locks and
bolts, and the lord knows what; but I fetched him a box on the ear;
and that brought him to, and he fell to groaning. And now, Affidavy,
here's to you; and I don't care if I do you a bit of a service,
though I don't see what good can come of it. If it will do your cause
any service, to knock this here testimony on the head, why a hint's
as good as a long sermon, as the saying is. Just 'validate him on the
p'int of his upper story, and call me and Hanschen to swear to his
doings and sayings; for I reckon, he's a clearer _non cumpuss_ case
than the prisoner. Howsomever, that can't do no good; for I'm clear
in for swearing to the youngster's admitting he killed the deceased,
which is quite a settler of the whole hash."
"Tush," said Affidavy, "let him swear, and swear his best. There is
testimony enough to do the business, if we trust to that. The devil
take the case; I won't bother my brains with it any further. However,
Lingo, my boy, it was a queer thing of yours, that letting the
prisoner go clear of gloves and garters. He might break jail,--eh, my
boy!"
"As how?" said Lingo. "No, squire, you don't come over me there. I
clapped the irons on him at first; but, you see, poor fellow, I saw
he was sick, and just as weak and heavy-hearted as a pipped poult,
and no more fear of dodging in him than an old horse: so I knocked
the clinkers off, and let him have the swing of the room, poor
fellow; and there he's safe enough. Moresomover, I never heard tell
of his being much of a Hawk, only in blood and name; and I have a
sort of pity on him."
"Ah, yes," said Affidavy, with a melancholy stare; "if you were to
hear his story, Lingo, it would melt your heart; for you have a soft
heart, Lingo, a merciful heart, Lingo; and it will go well with you,
Lingo; for there's something said in the Bible about the merciful."
"Well," said Lingo, "I don't set up for much of that, nor for much
religion neither; but I never beats a prisoner, except when he's
contrary; and this here youngster seems much of a gentleman; and I
have a notion, if he's well treated, he may leave me something; for
he has a gold watch, (howsomever, the Sheriff's got it;) and, they
say, he's well-to-do in the world.--But, squire, drink on; it's
getting late."
"Let it," said Affidavy; "here am I fixed for the night; for how do I
know but that you may be in trouble before morning, and may want a
friend to help you?"
"Trouble! and help!" said Lingo, looking up with surprise. "If you
mean that Sterling and his squeaking, why, ods bobs, it only needs a
cuff or two to bring him about. Ods bobs, Affidavy," he added, with a
grin, "if you stay, I reckon, it's _you_ may want a friend to help
you. I don't say nothing; but he that's got a speech to make before
court and jury to-morrow, should not be too free of the creatur'
to-night."
Affidavy, who had not yet betrayed any strong symptoms of being
affected by his good cheer, shook his head mysteriously, and then
replied,
"There's no telling what might happen, Lingo. These refugees are
devils incarnate, as far as daring goes. The whole regiment here is
out in chase of them, and all the able-bodied men of the village in
company; so that there's nothing left to keep guard over us but old
women and young ones. Now, Lingo, we'll suppose a case--how many men,
armed with muskets and axes, would it take to sack your stone jug
here, smash open a door, and let out the prisoners?"
"Ods bobs!" said Lingo, "I don't know: but I reckon I could hold out,
me and Hanschen, until we had assistance. But, howsomever, that's
supposing a case that can't happen."
"Don't be too secure," said the attorney, with a solemn voice; "for
there's no saying what may happen, when there's such a man as Oran
Gilbert in the case. I reckon, an axe and a few crowbars, with an
auger or two, might soon make way through the yard-gate; and then,
the back-door would be but a mere joke; and then, Lingo, why
surrender, or hard axe and soft head would be the end of it."
"Ods bobs!" said Lingo, "what puts such a notion as that into your
head? There's ne'er a tory, now, within forty miles of us!"
"Ah, Lingo! This is a wicked world, with a good many crooked ways in
it; and there's a deal of 'em lead to the jail-door. My own notion
is, that Oran Gilbert is lying where no one would think of disturbing
him. Now, Lingo, you and I are friends. You're an honest fellow,
Lingo, but, botheration, you're mortal. And so, Lingo, I shouldn't
trust you too far, if Oran Gilbert came to the wall-gate, about the
time of cricket-cry, chucked you over a purse with a matter of ten
guineas or so in it, while you stood peeping at the key-hole."
"Oho!" said Lingo, staring at the attorney with that sort of
perplexity which a stupid man betrays when endeavouring to fathom the
point of a jest, which he is sensible ought to be laughed at; "Oho,
squire, I see what you are after,--he, he, he!" he said, beginning to
giggle, and lifting a glass as he laughed. "I'm a mortal man, sure
enough, and might take a fee, as well as e'er a lawyer in the land.
But ten guineas is a small sum, Affidavy; and as for opening a
jail-door for such a small matter, why, Affidavy, that's only--he,
he, he! And so you've been retained by the tories? he, he, he! Well,
I was wondering where the yallow boy came from,--he, he, he!"
"Tush! retained by the tories? _I!_" said the man of law, somewhat
disconcerted.
"Oh, squire, a joke for a joke's all fair; tit for tat, you know,--
'Tit for tat,
Butter for fat,
Kick my dog, and I'll kill your cat,'
as the saying is;" and the worthy Lingo again burst into a peal of
mirth, which allayed the sudden alarm of his companion. Affidavy
looked him in the face, and became satisfied from the air of stupid
glee which invested the jailer's features, that the liquor was
suddenly beginning to fill his noddle; and in this conceit he was
confirmed by Lingo adding, after another preliminary giggle,
"Well now, Affidavy, I'm an honest feller,--as you say, but I scorn
being a fool. I know what's what; and I wish somebody would chuck me
ten guineas over the wall-gate; I wouldn't ask him whether he was a
tory or true American; for, you see, a guinea's a guinea, and clean
stuff, no matter what pocket it comes from. But then, squire, as to
opening the gate for such a small matter, he, he, he! why, I'm too
honest for that. I'm a poor man, but, as I said, he, he, he! I scorn
being a fool; and so, he, he, he! as you and me is friends, Affidavy,
why, if the man was to chuck about fifty more to the back of 'em,
why, he, he, he! I don't know what might become of my prisoners."
"Fifty guineas!" cried Affidavy, grinning in return, but with a sort
of scorn; "that's putting your honesty at a higher price than your
soul, for which, botheration, I would not give half the money."
"He, he!" said Lingo, slapping his boon companion on the knee, and
nodding and winking in a manner meant to be exceedingly significant;
"but come now, what'll they give? for I'll stand to reason."
"Give! _who_ give?" said Affidavy, affecting surprise. "Oh! the
tories, you mean. Tush, how do I know? Perhaps you might get twelve
or thirteen guineas out of them; and that's a good round sum."
"He, he, he!" said Lingo; "but what do you get yourself?"
"I!" said Affidavy, again alarmed. His trepidation was however driven
to flight by another fit of laughter, in which Lingo's honest
countenance indicated the most expressive innocence of all suspicion.
"Ods bobs!" said he, "I wouldn't sell a prisoner under fifty pounds;
and if they'd talk to me about that, he, he, he!"--and here he could
scarce proceed for laughing: "No, no; if you'll strike a bargain for
me for fifty pounds, in hard money, why then, he, he! they may take
my prisoners, and hang them, if they will. But it's all one; there's
no such luck for poor Bob Lingo: honesty won't fetch any thing worth
having now-a-days. Fifty guineas! a small sum: why one could get more
for letting a tory _in_ jail. But, he, he, he! it's all one to Bob
Lingo. I'm 'mazing sleepy, squire! But I know what'll keep me awake,
he, he! I've got a barrel of wonderful fine cherry bounce; and, he,
he! I'll go fetch a pitcher of it, and we'll make a night of it, I
warrant me."
With these words, he left the apartment.
"Bravissimo!" said the attorney, as soon as he had departed; "I'll
cheat the unconscionable rascal out of every penny. He's as drunk as
a pig already."
He stole to the door, peeped out, and then, satisfied that Lingo was
beyond observation, proceeded to pour into a glass, from a little
vial he drew from his pocket, a goodly dose of laudanum, to which he
forthwith added sugar and brandy, muttering to himself all the while,
"Here's a dose for the dog will make him sleep like a wood-chuck at
Christmas; but 'twont hurt him. Botheration, I'm sleepy myself, the
lord knows: but two thousand guineas! Two thousand devils! I'm a made
man, even if the young ass repents his bargain and makes me 'bate one
half!--Give _him_ fifty guineas! pearls before swine! He'll sleep
like a top; and as for Hanschen, why he's fast already----Devils!
what's that?--Oh, the drunken fool has tumbled over a chair, and
smashed the pitcher!--Could hear the clink and clatter together. Am
somewhat drunk myself; but a little does me good."
Having completed the soporific potion so kindly designed for Lingo,
and not without producing some clattering of glasses, for he was far
from being sober, he sat down and prepared a second glass as much
like the first as possible, except that he took good care not to
qualify it from the vial, which he restored to his pocket. He then
began to hum, and kick his heels together, wondering what kept the
jailer away so long. "The town is already fast asleep," he grumbled,
"and my three jolly tories will be whistling at the gate like seven
thousand katydids. Poor Mrs. Affidavy! how she will stare and scold
in the morning! Odd rabbit her, she has a tongue might suit a judge
on the bench; and, botheration, it will be a lucky day for me, when
I'm well quit of her."
While he rejoiced over his prospect of deliverance, Lingo re-entered
the apartment, bearing a huge pitcher, from which he contrived, at
every step, to discharge, so wide and uncertain was his gait, no mean
quantity of its purple contents. Indeed, if appearances were to be
trusted, he was already so far gone in intoxication, that it needed
but one glass more to stretch him on the floor; and Affidavy hailed
his infirmity as the herald of success.
"Ods bobs!" said the jailer, staggering up to the table, and
depositing his burthen with so little dexterity that half its
contents went splashing over his friend, "here's stuff for you! But a
jail's a bad place to keep liquor. Ods bobs, I broke my shin over a
fetter-bolt, and, ods bobs, I broke my new blue pitcher; but, ods
bobs, who cares for expense?"
"Botheration," said Affidavy, "here I've mixed you a brandy
cock-tail, and you've spilled the bounce into it. However, I warrant,
it's all the better."
"Ay, I warrant me, old Teff," said Lingo, giving him an affectionate
hug round the neck, "and we'll drink it, my boy, like a lord and a
true-hearted American. But, ods bobs, my boy, gi' me a chair; for,
d'ye see, I sprained my leg, and it's weak under me."
"Oh, ay," said Affidavy, dragging the jailer's chair round to his own
end of the table.--"But stop there, you fool, you've got _my_ glass!"
"Hic--cup--where's the difference? he, he!" said Lingo, yielding,
however, the glass he had taken, and receiving that which Affidavy
had so craftily prepared. "Here's to you, old Teff Affidavy!"
"Here's to you!" said the lawyer; and both raised the glasses to
their lips. The attorney watched his victim with the eyes of a mouser
intent upon her prey. He saw him swallow one mouthful, and then a
second, and then--the jailer withdrew the vessel from his lips.
"Botheration!" murmured Affidavy to himself, "does the villain taste
it?"
He was soon relieved from his fear. Lingo laid the glass on the
table, and turning to Affidavy, burst into a fit of maudlin weeping,
betraying, at the same time, a strong disposition to repeat the
fraternal embrace. As Affidavy felt no inclination to balk this
friendly intention, he laid down his own glass, and was instantly
taken round the neck by the jailer, who exclaimed, in the most
pathetic manner in the world,
"Ods bobs, old Teff, I don't know what will become of me!"
"Why, what's the matter?" said Affidavy.
"Why, ods bobs," blubbered the other, "one day, when I was a little
boy, I licked my father; and there's no good can come of it."
"Tush, you ass," said the attorney, "you might have trounced your
mother too, if you had been so minded. But, botheration on you, let
me go, and drink your cock-tail."
"Well, I will," said Lingo; "but it's a murdering piece of business
to whip one's father; and I've a notion to give myself up, and let
'em hang me. But I can't hang without counsel, and I can't spare
money to pay a fee. Now, old Teff, my boy, you're my friend, and if
you'll make a speech for me for nothing----I always stuck up for your
being the cutest lawyer in the county, and I'll lick any body that
says No to it----now if you'll make me a speech, I reckon I may get
off for nothing, with a clear 'quittal."
"Drink, you fool," said Affidavy; "I'll take the case, and charge you
nothing."
"He, he!" said Lingo, snatching up his glass, "we'll go 'em, then,
slick as a snake in a new skin. Here's to you, Teff, my old boy! and
the devil eat his liver that don't drink smash down to the bottom!
Hic--cup,--here's to you."
He swallowed his potation, and the attorney, without a moment's
hesitation, drained his own at a single draught. But scarce had he
withdrawn the glass from his lips, before he started up, exclaiming,
"God bless our two souls! what was in the glass? Ah, Lingo, you fool,
'twas that cursed bounce you spilled in it! Vile trash, you dog, vile
trash!"
"What! my bounce?" cried Lingo, indignantly; "as good bounce as was
ever brewed, and, ods bobs, a good deal better. But now, you jolly
old Teff, let's sing a song. Don't sit there staring at me, like a
starved cat; but sing, you old rascal; let's sing 'Vain Britons.'"
"The oddest taste in the world," said Affidavy, in obvious
bewilderment: "sure there must have been some mistake!"--And, in
effect, there was; for at the very moment when the jailer was
embracing his friend, and beseeching the favour of his counsel, he
slid one hand behind him to the table, and there kept it until he had
effected a mutual interchange of places between the two glasses; the
consequence of which was, that when the fondling fit was over, and
the vessels resumed, he himself got possession of the innocent
draught, while Affidavy caught up and swallowed that designed for his
companion. Had Lingo been in any condition but that in which he
appeared, the attorney would have conceived the trick in a moment;
but a look at the jailer's innocent visage was sufficient to banish
all suspicion of foul play; and in consequence, he could only stare
about him in wonder and perplexity, nodding his head up and down in a
manner the most ludicrous in the world, while Lingo testified his
indifference and patriotism together, by lanching out, in a
quavering, drunken voice, upon a camp-song, said to be then highly
popular among the continental soldiers.
'Vain Britons! boast no longer, with insolence and glee,
By land your conquering legions, your matchless strength by sea;
For lo! at length Americans their sword have girded on,
And sung the loud Huzza! huzza! for war and Washington!'
'Sent forth by North for vengeance, your gallant champions came;
With _tea_, with _treason_, and with _George_, their lips were all
on flame:
Yet, sacrilegious though it seem, we rebels still live on,
And laugh to scorn your empty threats, and so does Washington.'
'Still deaf to mild entreaties, still blind to England's good,
Your knaves, for thirty pieces, betrayed your country's blood:
Like Æsop's cur, you'll only gain a shadow for a bone,
Yet find us dangerous shades, indeed, inspired by Washington.'
The third stanza of this patriotic roundelay (there are a dozen
stanzas altogether,) was sung by Lingo with especial emphasis,
particularly the second and third line, and might have conveyed to
the attorney some inkling of the true state of the question between
them, had not his senses been already overpowered. The strength of
the draught, aided not a little by the vigilance of the succeeding
night, was too much for Affidavy's brain; and before the stanza was
concluded, he slipped from his chair to the floor, and there lay like
a log.
The jailer concluded the song; then springing up, he burst into a
hearty laugh, exclaiming, "Ods bobs, I've outlawyered the lawyer! and
there he is, as fast as a poker. Now, you old fool," he added,
without a vestige of intoxication remaining, (and indeed his
drunkenness had been all assumed) "if there was too much stuff in the
mixing, why e'en take the consequence, for it was all of your own
brewing."
Then stooping down, he examined Affidavy's pockets. The first thing
he laid hands on, was the vial of laudanum, which he smelt at with
great glee; he then filched out a leathern purse, containing,
according to his own verbal inventory, "sixteen guineas in gold, two
Spanish dollars, a French crown-piece, and an English shilling--Oho
old Teff!" The next thing discovered was the pocket-wallet, from
which he drew to light the note of hand which the cormorant had
caused the prisoner to sign in the morning. All these different items
he deposited under lock and key, in a closet, from which he also drew
a pair of horse-pistols, and an old horseman's sword, all of which he
proceeded to buckle round his body.
While thus engaged, some one softly approached, tapped at the door,
and being bidden to enter, disclosed the features of his assistant
Hanschen.
"Done him up!" said Lingo, pointing to the prostrate figure; and then
demanded, "All ready?"
"Yaw."
"How many?"
"Fy, dtare's Sturmhausen, Schnapps, and tree oders, mit guns and
pistols."
"Ods bobs, then, we'll nab 'em; for they can't muster half so many.
Have you chained the prisoner?"
"Yaw; and he turned pale, and fainted afay. Then I put polts on Tancy
Parkins; and now I fill go fix the t'oder, Shterling."
"Never mind him; he's safe. Now, Hans, you must fight like a
bull-dog, if there's any fighting at all. But not a word about the
lawyer here. Here's a pistol: take a swig at the bounce, and we'll
carry it down to the boys, to warm their hearts a little. If we catch
that Oran, ods bobs, I don't know what the reward is, but it will be
the making of us."
"Yaw," said Hans; and picking up the pitcher, he followed the jailer
into the yard. Here they found five stout men, with whom the jailer
conversed in whispers, and then, after all had drunk of the pitcher,
he led them towards the gate, saying, as he bade them lie down on
either side of it,--"Now mind ye, men; I hold to the lock, and here's
my cue: If any enters, why I claps the gate to behind them, and then
outs with the key; and then you're to jump up and on 'em, taking 'em
alive, if you can. But mind ye, you're not to stir, till you hear me
give the signal to fall on; and the signal is, _You're welcome,
gentlemen_. Don't forget it. Now, 'taint sure they'll come; but if
they do, ods bobs, we've got 'em!"
Having thus received their instructions, the whole party squatted
down on the ground, and awaited the issue of their adventure in
silence. The village jail was a small, though strong, building of
stone, and the yard, therefore, on the rear, in which the prisoners
were sometimes allowed to air themselves, was of no great extent. It
was surrounded, however, by a high and strong wall, the gate to which
was of heavy double planking, strengthened with bars of iron; and the
lock was of weight sufficient to make any prisoner despair of forcing
it.
It was perhaps midnight, when these silent guards,--seven in number,
including the jailer and his assistant,--took their places. The night
was perfectly clear, and so far unfavourable to the assailants, if
assailants they really were; of which, it must be confessed, honest
Lingo could not affect to be certain, his whole information amounting
to no more than the few ambiguous phrases he had caught from
Affidavy. But then this fellow, under a stupid countenance, concealed
an astonishing fund of quickness and cunning, of which the attorney
little dreamed; and long before Affidavy had opened his lips on the
subject, Lingo had seen and noted enough to give edge to the native
suspiciousness of his character. The appearance of Affidavy himself,
claiming to be one of the prisoner's counsel, instantly set his wits
to work; he marvelled who had retained him, since he knew he had not
yet seen the prisoner. Then the appearance of the guinea, a rare coin
in such hands, and devoted with such magnificent nonchalance to the
purpose of doing honour to _him_, was not without its virtue in
stirring his conjectures, especially when it came to be added to the
invitation Affidavy so coolly gave himself to repeat his visit, and
spend the night in the jail. He ascertained without trouble, that the
attorney soon after leaving the prisoner, had ridden into the
country, where he remained all day, without once seeking a conference
with either of the prisoner's original counsellors; and one or two
other little circumstances he discovered, which prepared him to
understand, and make the most of what Affidavy afterwards divulged in
the form of supposition.
All his discoveries, however, went no further than to induce a belief
that some design for rescuing the young Gilbert was on foot; but
where, and in what manner, the enterprise was to be attempted, he was
left to infer as he could. He did not doubt, indeed, that the attempt
was expected to be made with his connivance, and that Affidavy had
been bought to bribe him into compliance; though the covetousness of
this unworthy and degraded limb of the law had led him upon a device
for dispensing with the jailer's services, and so clapping the
additional reward into his own pocket. This circumstance convinced
him the force of the conspirators could not be very great; and
besides, he had good reason to suppose that not more than two or
three could succeed, whatever might be their boldness, in making
their way to the village, while the band was so closely beset at a
distance. "At all events," he muttered to himself, as he sat by the
gate, listening for the sound of footsteps, "if there should come
even a dozen of them, and there's not so many left in the gang, I can
let in just as many as will serve my turn, and then slap the door to
on the rest.--Hist! It sounded like the tramp of a horse; yet 'twas
only the splash of the river over the stones. Well now, if they
shouldn't come, here's so much trouble for nothing, and the lord
knows how much cherry-bounce. Silence there, you Hanschen! you're
asleep. Ods bobs, men, don't scratch your heads so hard!"
He kept watch for perhaps the space of an hour, without hearing the
stir of man or beast, or indeed any other sound besides the rush of
the river, which rolls down a pebbly declivity hard by, and the
chirping of numerous field-crickets on the trees of neighbouring
gardens; when suddenly one of these insects, tired, as it seemed, of
its dewy perch, which it had exchanged for the dry planks of the
gate, or perhaps just waked up in the key-hole, began its nocturnal
cry with a zeal and energy that instantly captivated the jailer's
attention. It now struck his recollection that the attorney had, in
some way or other, drawn these minstrels of the night into his
suppositions; and he began to fancy the sound might be a signal made
by the tories, though he could not imagine how the organs of a human
being could be ever taught to imitate a cry so peculiar. He felt his
own inability to answer it in the same tone; and not knowing how
otherwise to bring the affair to a point, he replied by a goodly
whistle, which his companions supposed to be the signal of the enemy,
and therefore prepared to start up at a moment's warning. The whistle
was instantly followed by a slight tap on the gate, and Lingo, waving
his hand to his backers to be silent, boldly turned the key. Then
slipping the bolt aside, he saw three human figures on the outside,
ready to enter. "Two to one," he muttered to himself, opening the
gate wide enough to admit one to pass at a time. One actually
entered, and was moving aside, without speaking, to make way for the
others, when Lingo's scheme was defeated by a sudden rattling of
chains at the window of Hyland's cell, and by a voice crying out,
"Beware! beware! you are betrayed!"--"Up and on 'em!" cried
Lingo--"_Gentlemen, you are welcome!_" and as he spoke, he made a
grasp at the first comer, which was answered so effectually, that he
instantly found himself sprawling on his back, with such a blaze of
lights dancing in his eyes, that he thought his whole brain had been
converted into a ball of fire. The next instant, there was a loud cry
of voices, and a roar of pistols, which, reverberating from wall to
wall, filled the narrow yard with the most dreadful din; and Lingo
started up just in time to behold a tall figure darting through the
gate into the open air.
"Fire and furies!" he cried, rushing after the fugitive; "I'll pay
you for that touch of the tomahawk, you bloody tory!" and the next
moment coming up with his chase, he struck him a blow with his heavy
sword, that brought him to the ground. Then pouncing upon him, and
assisted by another who ran to his assistance, crying that 'all were
taken,' he dragged the prisoner into the yard and secured the gate.
"Lights, Hanschen!" he cried, "Yaw," said Hanschen; "but fat's the
use? Here's one teadt, and anoder tying. And here's Sturmhausen has
his headt proke; and here's me mit my finkers chopped off by the tamt
_schelm_ rogues. But I have kilt vone, mine Gott be thank'd! and I
fill hang the t'oders!"
Before Hanschen had wholly delivered himself of his private ills and
triumphs, a loud huzza was set up by the others, upon hearing that
all the three assailants were secured. Lights were instantly brought
into the yard, and, sure enough, there lay three men on the ground,
one of whom was stone dead, his head blown to atoms by Hanschen's
pistol, a second writhing to all appearance in the agonies of death,
and a third--but what were the surprise and mortification of the
jailer, when in this third, the man he had cut down with his own
hands, he beheld the visage of his prisoner, Sterling.
Upon this discovery being made, all was again confusion; the gate was
a second time thrown open, but only that they might behold the whole
village in commotion, the alarm having been given by the previous
tumult. It was plain that the third individual, and he perhaps the
most important of all, had made his escape. To add to the confusion
of the scene, the wounded tory, upon hearing some of those who raised
him pronounce the name of Sterling, suddenly snatched a pistol from
one, and discharged it at this unlucky personage, with a bitter oath.
It was struck from his hands, however, so that it did no hurt to any
one.
The jailer, now in fear lest the other prisoners might have broken
from their cells, ran to those occupied respectively by Hyland
Gilbert and Dancy Parkins, both of whom he found in fetters, the
former, in truth, secured by a bolt to the floor, so that, although
he had some freedom of motion, he could not approach the window near
enough to look out, and must therefore have been led to give the
alarm to the rescuers by hearing the crash of the bolt in the gate.
This was additional evidence of the guilt of Affidavy; but at that
moment, the jailer did not trouble himself to think of that
discomfited personage. He stared at the prisoner, heard his
beseeching demand, 'Who had been taken? who had been hurt?' answered
it by a profane oath, and then ran to Parkins's cell. He then stepped
to that occupied by Sterling, and found that this individual, seduced
perhaps by the sounds of wassailing below, had employed his time in
removing with a knife a hinge from his door, by which means he had
made his way into the yard, where he took advantage of the commotion
so unexpectedly displayed, to make a bold dash for freedom. What had
seduced this wretch, who was in no immediate peril of death, or even
trial, and who had freely rendered himself into the hands of justice,
to attempt his escape, Lingo could not imagine; and in truth he did
not attempt to solve the mystery. He satisfied himself that he had
given him a severe, perhaps a serious cut, betwixt the neck and
shoulder, and then had him carried into his cell, not without some
very hearty curses upon his enterprise, and its effects in robbing
him of a more valuable prize. These were borne by the adventurer
without any reply save ghastly looks; and indeed Mr. Sterling was a
greatly altered man, presenting an appearance even more wo-begone and
wretched than that of Hyland, the victim of his anger. As if to mark
the jailer's indignation in the strongest way, the wounded refugee
was deposited in the same chamber, as well as the body of his
comrade.
Upon examining into the condition of the defenders, it was found that
Hanschen had received a cut over the hand, which, as was discovered
afterwards, had been inflicted not by a foe, but by one of his
fellow-defenders; and this had deprived him of a finger, and perhaps
of the service of two others. Another man had been hurt by a bullet
in the leg, and a third had been stunned, like Lingo, by a stroke on
the head. As for Lingo himself, he discovered, with some surprise,
that the blow which prostrated him had left a wide and ugly gash on
his crown, though not one from which he had cause to apprehend
serious consequences. The only ill effect it produced was, to sour
his temper to an uncommon degree; so that after peace was restored in
his dominions, and his aiders and abettors all discharged for the
night, he betook himself to the sleeping Affidavy, and bestowed some
three or four such kicks upon his ribs, that it was a wonder he left
a sound one in his body. But even these failed to rouse the stupified
attorney; and at last, calling to Hanschen for assistance, he dragged
him up into Sterling's cell, where he deposited him on the floor,
betwixt the dead man and the dying.
"Now here are four bites for the devil together," he said; "and if
they all die before morning, it's all one to Bob Lingo."
With these words, he descended to look after his wound, which was
bleeding freely.