A POACHING EXPEDITION TO COLWICK PARK--JACK FORMS AN ACQUAINTANCE WHO
LEADS HIM INTO DIFFICULTIES.
As soon as the party broke up, Jack hurried to his room, and very
contrary to his usual custom threw himself into a chair, and
unconsciously pressing his hand on his brow, rested his elbow on the
little oak table which stood by his bedside. The way in which the walls
were adorned showed the tastes of the occupant of the chamber. The most
honoured ornament was a fowling-piece with a curious lock lately
invented, the gift of Cousin Nat, and which had superseded the stout
cross-bow hanging beneath it. One wall was devoted to fishing-rods,
tackle, and nets. Among them was a rod of which Izaak Walton, that
great professor of the gentle art, had himself spoken approvingly when
once, while fishing in the silvery Trent, he had seen it flourished in
Cousin Nat's hands. There were two sets of foils with masks and gloves,
and several cudgels with strange knots and devices, cut from ancient
trees in Sherwood Forest, beneath whose once wide-spreading boughs
certain feats of the renowned Robin Hood were said to have been
performed. In one and all the tales relating to the exploits of the
bold outlaw, it is scarcely necessary to say that Jack put the most
implicit faith, and would have been highly indignant had any one
ventured to doubt their authenticity or correctness. In one corner of
the room stood a book-case, a very unpretending piece of furniture in
itself, but it contained every ballad Jack believed to have been
written, or at all events on which he could lay hold, connected with
Robin Hood. It contained however other tomes: besides several
schoolbooks, their dark covers sadly battered, and their leaves inked,
dog's-eared, and torn, there were kind Izaak Walton's "Complete Angler,"
highly prized by Jack; Foxe's "Book of Martyrs," presented to him by
Aunt Bethia; and a work he valued more than all the others--Purchas's
"Travels:" and often and often as he conned these pages he longed to be
able to visit the strange countries and to go through the wonderful
adventures therein described.
The fact was that Jack had a very good head on his shoulders, and had he
broken his leg, or met with any other accident which would have confined
him to the house, he would have taken very readily to reading. In his
case his physical powers demanded more exercise than his mental, whereas
in the case of his brother Jasper his mental activity preponderated over
his mere animal spirits. Jack required a tether to keep him within
bounds, Jasper a spur to make him move fast enough to keep up with the
times. Yet in most respects the elder was superior to the younger
brother--cast in a finer mould, with keener sensibilities, a gentler
heart, and more moral if not physical courage. Jack had, however, many
good qualities, but many of his doings were not such as deserved
imitation. Such book knowledge as he possessed he had obtained at the
Nottingham Grammar School, where, as was the case at other places of
education of the same character, boys were allowed to pick up what they
chose, and if not inclined to learn, no great effort was made to
instruct them. Jack had therefore run wild, and had done many things
for which he had cause to be sorry, and had sometimes even got into
trouble about them. He had not, however, even yet learned wisdom. His
character was, however, to be developed, and may probably be so in the
following pages.
"I would do any thing to please her," he said to himself. "I do not
think she would like to know the work I have promised to engage in
to-night, and yet how am I to be off it? I know myself it is not right,
but I gave my word to those fellows, and ought I to break it? I do not
like the forest laws, but they are laws notwithstanding, and it behoves
honest men to obey them--there's the rub. How I did not come to think
of that before, I don't know. Perhaps Alethea put it into my head; and
yet she did not speak very approvingly of the king and the Parliament,
so I suppose she would not much object to my breaking the laws which
they have formed. Still she would not like to see me placed in the
pillory, and that would be my fate if I was caught poaching--there's no
use mincing the matter, that's the word. But I was never frightened at
any thing, and I am not going to be frightened at that. I gave my word,
and I must stick to my word."
Saying this, Jack started up, and began to throw aside his holiday suit.
Instead, he donned his roughest clothes, took down the fishing-boots
from the wall, filled his pockets with tackle, and threw a landing-net
over his shoulder. Thus prepared, with a slouched hat that concealed
his features, he gently opened the window, and by means of a leaden
water-spout, and a pear-tree growing up the wall under his window,
slipped noiselessly to the ground. He quickly scaled the garden wall,
and took his way down a narrow lane winding between tall and irregular
houses, till he reached the side of the narrow river Leen, which,
sweeping by the foot of the castle hill, ultimately falls into the
Trent. He was soon clear of all the buildings, when, stopping under a
tall hedge-row which ran down to the stream, a low whistle reached his
ears.
"That is Smedley," he said to himself. "Well, I will fulfil my promise,
and then break with these fellows for good."
He whistled in return, in the same manner, and immediately a youth of
about his own age stepped out from the shelter of a hedge.
"Well, Jack, I am glad you have come at last," said Smedley; "it's
growing late, and the other fellows will be waiting for us down the
stream."
"Where is the boat?" asked Jack. "I promised to go with you to-night,
and I am not the man to break my word; but just let me tell you, Tom,
once for all, I am determined that this shall be the last time."
"Don't say that, Jack," answered Smedley: "we cannot afford to lose you.
We want a good leader in all our work, and you are just the man for us.
As for the boat, she is down by the edge of Colwick Causeway, under the
bushes; and Ned Bligh has got mufflers for the oars, and all ready; so
come with us now, and don't be bothering your head about the future."
The young men were soon walking along the sward of Colwick Park, with
the great trees throwing their shadows across it, when the moon, often
hidden by clouds, came out, and cast its light upon them. Sometimes
also it showed groups of cattle lying down sleeping, or lazily chewing
the cud, among the sweet herbage of the river's side. No other living
creature was in sight, so that Jack and his companion were not afraid of
talking in their usual tone of voice. They kept, however, well under
the shade of the trees.
"Those are some of Mr Strelley's beasts, I believe," said Jack: "a fine
lot they are, too; they will soon be off towards Cambridge, and bring a
good round sum at Stourbridge Fair. I wish I had the driving of them;
and I should not mind the selling, either!"
"Are they the highland cattle which Will Brinsmead bought for him at
Saint Faith's?" asked a voice, so close to the two speakers that they
both started.
"Come out into the moonlight, friend," said Jack, boldly; "I don't
answer questions to a man that keeps out of sight."
The stranger stepped out from beneath the shadow of a row of beech-trees
which grew on the bank close to the path which Jack and his companion
were following. He was a broad-set countryman in appearance, habited in
a well-worn but strong riding-suit, with leather leggings, a horseman's
jackboots, and a broad leathern belt, in which Jack's quick eye caught
sight of a pistol-barrel. He seemed considerably entertained by Jack's
challenge, and repeated his question with great good-humour, in an
unmistakable Yorkshire accent.
"You perhaps know as much as I do about the beasts," answered Jack.
"Some of them are Scotch, and well fed on these rich water-meadows, till
they are nearly as valuable as the Leicestershire breed. I see a few
down there which are real Herefordshire, too. And now may I ask who you
are?"
"Well, a fair answer deserves another in return. I am a Yorkshire
cattle-dealer, at your service, just passing through Nottingham, and I
walked out here to see if there was any thing likely to suit me, in case
I chose to make a bargain to-morrow morning. I must be early on the
road to Derby. I hope you are satisfied, young man. And now let me ask
you what game you are after?"
"To be honest with you, we came out to catch a salmon or two," answered
Jack. "There are some fine ones now and then down the stream a little
way, though it is not often salmon come so far up the river. We shall
have a boat here, which will carry us close up to the weir."
"Ah! I like that sort of thing!" said the Yorkshireman; "I have seen a
good bit of such sport in my time. What now if I were to lend you a
hand? With the leister we would soon have a fine one that way, and if
we had a lantern ready, we might take a few by `sunning' besides."
"Oh, yes! we shall be glad for you to come," answered Smedley, before
Jack could say any thing. "I should like above all things to see fish
sunned."
"Well, then," answered the Yorkshireman, "you and your friend here must
give me your word to forget, if ever you should see me again, that you
met me this night. On that condition I will show you some north-country
sport--on that alone, mind. You," he added, turning to Jack, "for I can
trust you by the tone of your voice, must answer for your friends in the
boat."
"Oh, yes! I will answer for them as I would for myself," said Jack,
who, forgetting his former good resolutions, was almost as eager as
Smedley to witness the new style of sport which the stranger promised
them.
Just then the boat of which they had been talking came stealthily in
sight, rowed by two other lads, much of the same age as Jack and his
friend. The latter with the Yorkshireman quickly stepped into her, when
without loss of time the boat glided again down the stream.
"This is a friend we have picked up, who is going to show us some sport,
Bligh," said Smedley in a low tone of voice. "We can trust him, and he
knows that he can trust us; so it is all right."
In a short time they entered the Trent, and quickly arrived at the weir,
which was formed by large stones roughly laid together, so as to throw
the water into a broad cascade, as it came tumbling over it to the lower
reach of the river. Smedley was more inclined to be talkative than Jack
or the other lads in the boat.
"What are we to call you, master?" he asked of the stranger.
"Call me Master Pearson; that is a good midland-county name enough," he
said with a low laugh. "You have not got a leister in the boat, have
you? I have an idea, from the look of the place, that if I had one, I
could catch you a salmon quicker than by any other way."
The leister of which Master Pearson spoke is a three-pronged fork used
for spearing fish.
"No," answered Smedley; "none of us are good hands at using such a
thing."
"Well, just pull in here to the bank, and I will see if I cannot get a
stick which will answer the purpose," answered Master Pearson.
Without having to search long, he found a stake which had been driven
into the stream to prevent drawing nets across it. The stick apparently
suiting his fancy, with a piece of wire, with great dexterity, he in a
short time manufactured a pronged harpoon. Balancing it in his hand, he
seemed satisfied with his performance. Sitting down in the boat, he
next took off his boots and long-skirted great coat, which he deposited
on the seat, and then, tucking up his ample trousers, waded up to the
weir, while the boat was still rocking some distance from it. Jack
followed close behind him, and with delight saw a noble salmon
glistening now and then in the straggling moonlight, and playing
securely in the shallow water, but ready to dart out into the deeper
part of the stream at the slightest sound. In another instant a crimson
bubble came up to the surface of the water, showing with how unerring a
hand the clumsy-looking weapon manufactured by Master Pearson had been
struck home. At a signal the rest of the party came up to him to carry
off their prize, while he continued looking about for another. They
felt inclined to be rather annoyed at the ease with which the stranger
had captured a fish which they would have thought it impossible to kill
in the same way. Smedley at that moment declared that he heard sounds
in the distance, which made him fear that the keepers were coming
through the wood. "If we are not off we shall be getting into trouble,"
he sung out.
"Hoot, mon!" cried Master Pearson, loud enough to be heard through the
brawling of the weir; "you have time enough to learn how to strike a
`sawmon;' but come, I will show you another trick, since we have joined
company for the night."
Saying this, he returned to the boat, and, putting on his coat and
boots, produced a small lantern from his capacious horseman's pocket.
With a flint and steel it was lighted, when, leaning over the side of
the boat, he slowly moved the light along the surface of the water.
"Now stand by with your nets," he answered, "and you will soon pull up
enough fish for your suppers."
As he spoke, the lads saw a number of small fish attracted by the light
to the surface of the water; and, following his advice, in a short time
a considerable quantity were caught.
"This is not proper sunning," he observed: "if I had had such a lantern
as we use in the north, we should have caught far larger fish. It
should be made watertight, and then, when lowered down close to the net,
the fish are so eager to come and see the cause of the brightness,
thinking, maybe, that the sun has come down to pay them a visit, that
they swim right against the net, and are caught in great numbers. That
is what we call sunning in the north."
"I heard a voice!" exclaimed Smedley, as Master Pearson ceased speaking.
"There!--there again! It's the keepers as sure as we are living men!"
"Hold your tongue!" exclaimed Master Pearson somewhat sharply. "Here,
give me the oars; we will soon distance the keepers, if so be that they
are coming this way. You're right, I believe, though."
Taking the oars in his hands, he sent the boat through the water at a
rate she had seldom moved before. The noise of the oars attracted the
keepers, who rushed down to the water just in time to see the boat
turning a reach of the river. They hurried along the bank for some
distance, shouting to those in her to stop--an order not very likely to
be obeyed. So vigorously did Pearson ply the oars, that there seemed
every probability of the boat escaping its pursuers. Still the latter
continued to chase along the banks.
"You must take the consequences, then," exclaimed a voice, and directly
afterwards a shot whistled over their heads.
The lads crouched down in the boat, with the exception of Jack, who
followed Pearson's example in sitting still.
"A miss is as good as a mile," observed the latter coolly. "They must
be good marksmen to hit us at the rate we are going in this uncertain
light. Now, if I was minded, I might return the compliment with one of
my long pistols, and maybe they would wish I was farther off."
"What do you carry pistols for?" asked Jack in a tone of surprise.
"Never you mind, young man," replied Pearson, in a different style of
voice to that which he had hitherto spoken. "If I spoke of pistols,
maybe I was joking: you understand me?"
All this time he was vigorously rowing away, edging the boat off to the
other side of the bank to that on which the keepers were following. In
a short time they reached the shade of some tall trees which overhung
the stream, and here the boat was completely hid from sight.
"A few more strokes, and there is little danger of their finding us,"
observed the stranger; and now once more they entered the mouth of the
little river Leen, up which he turned the boat's head. "We have now to
pull against the current," he observed, "and my advice is to land and
leave the boat to look after herself."
"The best thing we can do," answered Jack, and a few strokes brought the
boat to a spot where they could easily leap on shore.
"Don't leave your fish behind you, lads, or your tackle either. If you
leave one, you will lose your suppers; and if you leave the other, you
will be very likely to be discovered. Now, lads, you take your way, and
I'll take mine, only just remember your promise. I consider it as good
as an oath, and any man who breaks his oath to me will have cause to
repent it. Now, good night to you all."
Having bid the stranger farewell, Smedley and the other two lads took
their way along the banks of the river, in the direction of some
dilapidated sheds, where they had arranged to meet and enjoy, according
to their own fashion, their hard-won supper. The stranger lounged away
across the bridge at some little distance from the sheds, while Jack,
anxious to get home, hurried off in the direction of the market-place.
"I was wrong to go," said Jack to himself. "Suppose one of us had been
shot, it would have been paying very dear for our night's sport. Such
doings might be easily overlooked in a boy, but I am one no longer. I
feel that. I claim to be a man, and as a man I must act. I hope there
is work for me to do in the world of some sort, and the sooner I begin
it the better, and put aside all my boyish pranks."
"A good resolution," said a voice behind him.
Jack was not aware he had been speaking aloud.
"I followed you, because I want to have a word more with you," said the
speaker, in whom Jack at once recognised his late companion, Master
Pearson. "There's mettle in you of the right sort," continued the
stranger. "What say you? Would you like to join a band of brave
fellows who have a right good cause to fight for?" he whispered in a low
voice. "There's honour and distinction to be gained, and a name, maybe,
and wealth in the end. It is what most men fight for, and I take it
that you would not be less ready than others to use your sword for such
an object."
"I am much obliged to you for the compliment you pay me," answered Jack,
"and for the good opinion you have formed of my courage; but I have no
great fancy for undertaking what I know nothing about. Men do not
always agree as to the goodness of a cause, and what you may consider a
good cause, you will pardon me for saying it, I may consider a bad one."
"A very discreet answer," observed Master Pearson, "and I think all the
better of you for making it. Well, I will not press you just now. I
have no doubt we shall meet again before long, and though I cannot tell
you where to find me, I have a fancy that I shall have no great
difficulty in putting my finger upon you at any time. So farewell,
Master John Deane: you see I know you, and moreover I wish you well."
Saying this, the stranger wrung Jack's hand cordially. Still he
lingered, rather unwilling perhaps to let the young man go without
making a more favourable impression.
"It is a good cause and a right cause which I invite you to join. I
must not explain it more to you just now, but just think the matter
over; and stay, it's just possible I shall remain in Nottingham all
to-morrow. Will you meet me in the evening as soon as it is dusk, down
by the bank of the river, where you fell in with me just now? I will
explain matters more fully to you then."
Jack did not answer for a minute or more. "I must think of it," he said
at last. "You may be a very honest man, Mr Pearson, and your
intentions towards me perhaps are fair, but I tell you again, I have no
fancy to take a leap in the dark. I have a plan in view myself, and I
would rather carry that out than try any other. You have wished me
farewell to-night already, and now I will wish you the same, and leave
you."
Saying this, Jack took the stranger's proffered hand, and shaking it,
hurried off in the direction in which he was previously going. Master
Pearson looked after him for an instant, and nodding his head, said to
himself, "He is an honest lad as well as a brave one, and may be made of
use if I can get a bridle into his mouth."