"Service!" says he, starting up, "why, I've just been pining, Dick, all

this time for you to come to it. 'What's Dick got?' says I to myself,

and says myself to I, 'Maybe (and I hope) he will be for letting me

strike a blow in behalf of youth and beauty?' Stab me, Dick! those was

my very words to myself."

"Well," said I, bluntly, "you shall have your wish, old man, and this

young gentleman too, who I see is regularly jumping for to join us."

"I--I know not what you mean," stuttered the peacock. "Having supped,

and being called on to retire to my lodging, which is far hence, I

will take the opportunity to thank you, sir, for your hospitality, and

begone."

Now at that I was only confirmed in the opinion I had formed of him as

nothing but a cur of no spirit: for here he was willing--nay, anxious,

to fly off and leave his lady in the hands of those whom he knew not,

with never a roof to cover her. He had taken a fear of Irons, maybe, or

perhaps his suspicion was due to my masterful air. But I was not going

to let him escape that way, specially as he was part of the plot I was

laying against old Nunky. So I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Sit down," said I, cheerily. "You must not begone till you have put

something inside of that brave coat of yours. Moreover," says I, "here

is a lady in trouble, and if I read your honest face aright, you are

not the man to leave a poor maid in the lurch--not you."

"Rip me, no!--he's a brave young gentleman. I can see it in his

cheeks," chuckled Old Irons.

"I--I do not know what can be done," said the other, in confusion. "I

am willing to help in any way. But her uncle refuses--"

"Well," said I, looking on him attentively, "you may be thankful that

you have met one who, however inferior in courage, does not need to cry

mercy to your wits. For here's my plan, plain and pat," and I gave it

them, there and then. It had come into my head as I walked along the

road with Mrs Nelly, but I had the whole form perfect only when I had

encountered the apprentice and heard Irons was in the tavern. Old Irons

and I were to make an entry into the house, and the peacock was to make

the rescue, by which means, as you will see, the way would be cleared

for Nunky's reconciliation with his niece's choice. But no sooner had I

told them than cries the peacock, stammering,--

"But--but--I could not--'tis not seemly. I will be no party. 'Tis time

I was gone home."

"Oh, very well," says I, "then we will adventure without you, and 'tis

I will rescue miss from Old Irons."

The girl's eyes lighted up. "You will do it, George?" says she,

beaming. "I believe it will convince my uncle of all that I have said

of you."

He hesitated, and being pushed into the corner, knew not what to say.

"But," says he in a troubled voice, and glancing from Old Irons to

me, and from me to Old Irons, anxiously, "I do not know who these

gentlemen are. I--"

"Sink me!" says Old Irons in a cozening voice, "d'ye think we are

really on the toby? Why, bless you, young master, we are both noblemen

in disguise, so we are, and would think shame of this job if it were

not to make an honest girl come by her own. We're only a-posing as

crib-crackers," says he.

"George!" says the girl, in a voice of soft entreaty that would have

persuaded a topsman.

"No good will come of it," said he with an air of protest. "'Twill

fail," and he cast up his eyes in despair.

"Agreed like a brave lad!" said I, clapping him on the back; "and you

shall drink to us and success," with which I filled him up a pot of

humpty-dumpty, well laced.

He drank and coughed, but the compound mounting in his blood, fired

him presently, so that he began to talk lightly and proffer advice and

boast of what he would do and what part he would take.

"Why, yes," says Old Irons, "a pistol clapped at the head, and bang

goes the priming, out flows the red blood. Sink me! there you are,

as cold as clay, and with no more life in you than in a dead maggot.

'Slife! here's a jolly boy, Dick, that is handy with his barker, I'll

vow."

But I stopped him ere he went too far, and he and I prepared the

arrangements. We left miss behind in Sally's charge with strict

instructions, and 'twas nigh three before we reached the house. There I

set the popinjay outside the window to shiver, pot-valiant, until so be

the time should come, while Irons and I went to the back of the house

and made scrutiny of the yard. There was little trouble in the job,

as it chanced, for Irons is skilled in the business, which I should

scorn to be, holding it for a scurvy, mean-livered craft, unworthy of

a gentleman. But I was committed to it for this occasion only, and so

was resolved to go through with it. Irons fetched out his tools and got

to work; and in a short time we were through the window of the kitchen,

and Irons with his glim was creeping up the stairs. But he stopped

half-way and whispered back to me--as if he had only then recalled

something.

"What ken's this?" he asked, using his cant word.

"Why, an honest merchant's house," said I, "and he traffics in

calicoes."

"Look ye, Dick Ryder," says he, sitting down on the stairs, "I may be

dullard, but rip me if I know how you stand in this!"

"Why," says I, "you need only know where you stand, Irons, and that's

pretty sure. You know me."

He stared at me a moment, and then said he, "Well, I'll empty old Nunky

of his spanks, and we'll settle afterwards," and he resumed his journey.

Now, what I had arranged with the apprentice was that I should knock

upon the window when the time was come, at which he would spring in

with cries of alarm and fury, falling upon the rascals that had dared

break into the merchant's house. At which Irons and I were to make off,

and the old gentleman, rising in terror from his bed, should discover

us in flight, and his deliverer George, full-armed, in possession. Yet

it did not fall out quite in this way, owing, as I believe, to Old

Irons's muddled head and his stopping on the stairs.

At anyrate, we were no sooner come to the hall, after Irons had visited

two rooms, than we were surprised by the figure of the old gentleman

moving down the staircase in his night-dress and a large blunderbuss in

his hand.

"Stand!" says he, seeing Irons in the faint light. "Stand, rogue, or I

fire!"

Old Irons uttered a curse, and, edging into the shadows, put up an arm

to slip the catches of the window. But his knuckles fell on it with a

rap as he withdrew the catch, and immediately after there was a loud,

shrill cry, the window fell open, and there was our peacock in the

midst, calling in his falsetto,--

"Surrender, or I will blow a hole in you! Surrender, by--!"

I could have broken out laughing at the sight, only the situation

promised to grow risky. For Old Irons, taken aback at this, and never

very particular when on his lay, jumped up sharply and smashed at

t'other with his pistol-butt; while, to make confusion worse, the old

man in the night-cap let off his blunderbuss. Such a screeching arose

as would have astonished a churchyard of ghosts, for the truth was,

old Nunky hit George somewhere in his hinderparts, and simultaneously

down came Irons's blow on his head. That set his finger to work on the

trigger of the pistol I had given him, and ere I was aware, something

had took me in the big toe, and set me cursing.

"Here!" says I, grabbing Old Irons in the darkness, for he was ready to

destroy both in his wildness, "this is no place for a tender-hearted

chicken like you or me. We're no match for savage fire-eaters like

these. We'd best go," and I dragged him through the window and we made

off together. When we reached the inn, I called out the girl.

"What has happened?" she cried eagerly.

"Well," said I, "I think you had best walk home sharp. I'll wager Nunky

will be calling for you presently to reward a gallant youth that has

risked his life for to save him."

Her eyes glistened, and, Lord! I believe the poor fool thought her

George _had_ been brave. She clasped her hands. "Oh, I must thank you,

sir!" she cried.

"Nay, never thank me," said I, "for, if I mistake not, Old Irons has

taken thanks for us both, and would have had more if it had not been

for young Jack-a-dandy."

"Split him!" cries Old Irons. "I would I had hit him harder."

"Hit!" she cries, and clutches at me.

"Nay, never fear," I said. "'Twas not Irons, but Nunky's blunderbuss.

Faith, he took both wounds like a lamb. I would I had his courage, and

was to be comforted like him. But he is in no danger."

"Oh, sir!" says she, gratefully, and if she were fool she was pretty

enough, and her innocence touched me, for she had scarce understood

anything of what we spoke.

"But run home," says I, "and I'll warrant you'll find him a-rubbing of

his head, and Nunky a-hugging him for joy and gratitude."

But even ere I had finished she was gone, flying lightly into the grey

of the coming dawn, and, as I heard afterwards from Costley, what I

had forecast was pretty accurate. But I had finished with miss then,

and the next business was to divide with Old Irons. 'Twas the first

time that I had ever engaged in a job with him, and I vow 'twill be

the last; so scurvy was he in the partition. But, then, I had always a

detestation of so ungentlemanly a game as cracking cribs.

MISS AND MY LADY

There are few people that can truly say they have tricked Dick Ryder,

and fewer still can say that in the end he did not wriggle out of his

predicament (whatsoever it might be) and turn the tables on them. Yet

of these few one, I will confess, was a woman, and a woman I had eyes

for, though I am not fool enough to cast my wits away for a petticoat.

I have always admired spirit in the sex, but there is a point at which

it degenerates into vice, and of such shrews or vixens I wish any man

joy. They are good to be beat if you be so inclined, but for myself I

have never taken up stick, lash, or fist against any woman, and never

would so long as I am free of the topsman.

The adventure happened when I was by Maidstone in the summer of 1683,

coming up from Dover very merry. I had ridden round from Deal and lain

at the Crown in Dover the night before, and I warrant I had made the

people of the inn open their eyes with what tales I told of Court and

Old Rowley and affairs of State. I cannot say why, but all the way

from Deal to London I seemed possessed of a devil that would wag me,

whether I willed it or not. I am not used to be so precipitate, but

'twas as if a cask of French brandy had gotten into my brains and set

'em a-quarrelling. At least, I was gay-headed and recked of nothing.

Not that I care for any risk or peril under the sun if it be necessary;

but this was to go rollicking, with the gait, so to say, of a drunken

man, whistling on danger and leering at fate--a mighty foolish thing to

do for any man. There is no question but I would not have fallen into

that blunder by Leeds Castle if I had been in any other mood. But there

it was--the devil was in me, as I say.

I pulled out of Dover pretty late, and with a parting wave of my hand

at as sweet a kinxiewinsy as I have seen, I started on the London Road

in good temper and good fettle. But ere I had gone a mile or so, I came

up with a little fat, dark fellow that had been at the inn and had

listened agog to my tales. It was, "Lord, sir, say you so?" and "Bless

me, I would not ha' believed it!" and then again, "Save us, what shall

we hear next?" Well, this little black man, as it seems, was steward,

or factotum, or what-ye-may-call-it to my Lady Dane, who, also, as it

seemed, had lain at Dover overnight, having crossed in a packet from

France, and was on her way to Winchester by Reigate and Guildford. The

fellow was not given to talking, but more to listening, with his "bless

me-s," but he was a simple rustic, and you may fancy that I led him on

so that he opened his mouth as wide as I my ears. For this Lady Dane

was a rich widow (so he said), and, moreover, a woman that was greatly

besought in marriage by many suitors of all degrees, and both for her

looks and her money. 'Tis not I that would blame any man that saw his

chance to seize beauty and booty alike together. 'Tis the worst of it

that they generally go singly--at least, to judge by what I have seen

of fine ladies. Well, says the little black man, my Lady Dane was on

a journey to her home on the Itchin in the company of her niece, that

was daughter to the late Sir Philip's brother, and he was going afore

to prepare for them at Maidstone, as they were not yet started. It

seemed that my lady had property in Maidstone, and was for giving a

water-fountain to the town in her kindness.

"My lady," says he, puffing himself out, "rises late, like any lady of

the Court."

"Why," said I, "she must be a rare fine woman--that she must, from

your accounts. I would like to clap eyes on her, so that I might

compare her with the beauties;" for he was the most obsequious in

praise of his mistress that ever you heard, and vexed my soul. "And the

niece," says I, "would be pretty handsome too."

"The niece!" says he, with a gesture of contempt, waving his hands in a

foreign way in imitation of what he had seen in France, and thus nearly

falling off his nag. "Oh! the niece is well enough," says he, and

recovered himself carefully. "_Je ne sais quoi_," says he, and shook

his head with a mighty knowing look. "She would do pretty well, but not

in a capital, not in Paris or London, where there is need always of the

most elegant style. You, sir, with your knowledge of cities, know that.

You have the air."

It tickled me to see the little fool a-sitting uneasily on his big

horse, with his toes cocked out on each side, looking for all the world

like a radish that would split as he bobbed and bounced up and down

upon the saddle, and mimicking foreign airs and tongues and manners as

if 'twere natural to him. But I kept a grave face until I had gotten

out of him what I wanted, by which time 'twas late in the afternoon

(for we had ridden together all the way), and we were within ten

miles of Maidstone. So I bade him good-bye and good-luck, for he was

not worth any gentleman wasting his hands on, and, turning the mare up

a lane, left him to pursue his way to Maidstone alone. But a mile or

so along the lane I pitched on a wayside tavern, where I took leave

to rest and refresh the mare and myself while waiting; for, from what

I had gathered from the steward, the lady would make no start before

twelve, in which case she would not be in Maidstone before six at the

least. So there I sat and waited, with never a companion, and not even

a serving-wench to clack tongues with. A little before six I rode down

and came into the Maidstone highway near by Leeds Castle, where the

moat was shining in the descending sun, and the pastures spread very

ample and green to the heights beyond. I waited there for an hour in a

convenient copse, and in the end got very tired.

"Damme!" says I, with a yawn, "this Mother Beauty has overslept herself

for certain, and will save her jewels after all;" for I was in no mood

to wait until the next day for the chance, being due in London. There

was the lake, first gleaming with the sun, then with long shadows

afloat and stretching, and at the last plunged in vacant blankness.

This was near upon twilight, and I was for cursing myself as a fool

to attend upon the whims of a woman, when there was the sound in the

distance of rumbling wheels, and I pulled Calypso out and waited by the

grassy border of the road.

'Twas not long before the chaise came up, rolling in a dignified way

down the hill, and speaking of wealth and consideration in every spoke

and appointment. There was the coachman with his fellow beside him, and

two spirited horses, and, if you please, by the lackey was a huge and

bell-mouthed blunderbuss, like a brass viol. I could ha' yelled for

laughter at the sight of them and their brave preparations. Rip me!

what a formidable array 'twas, with two gallant fellows in livery, all

ready to blow the soul out of such as Galloping Dick and his kidney!

Why, the first time I ever clapped peepers on 'em I could see that

there was no fight in them. So I put the mare right across the way and

waited. The twilight was come now, and the coachman called out to me to

stand aside.

"Are you drunk?" says he, as he draws up of necessity.

"No," says I; "I am only a poor fellow that's thirsty and tired of

waiting on you, and would like to be drunk," said I.

"'Tis a 'wayman!" shouted t'other lackey; and pulled up his

blunderbuss. But I put the point of my sword in his wrist, and he

dropped it with a howl.

"What's this?" now cried a voice from the interior of the chaise; and,

pushing the mare to the window, I looked in. There was the lady, sure

enough, of whom the little fat man had spoke; and he had been right

about her looks, for in her anger she was mighty handsome. But her

companion, that was the niece, according to the steward, was by no

means what he had suggested, being a tall girl of a delicate beauty,

with a gentle kindness in her eye, very becoming to modest virginity.

My lady was in a storm of anger.

"Who are you?" she said furiously.

"Why," said I, "I know not if 'tis of consequence to your ladyship to

discover who it is or who it isn't that rumpads you, so long as you be

rumpadded; but if it be any convenience to you, why, set me down in

your accounts as Galloping Dick of the Roads, and debit me with what

you will," says I.

"You would rob me?" said she, looking at me sharply, and, as I could

see, controlling herself with an effort.

"Your ladyship has a mind that flies direct to the point," said I,

politely; "I call miss in witness of its quickness. Never so much as

a word have I spoke afore you out with your guess. 'You would rob me,'

says you. Why, damme! I will not deny a lady."

She looked at me in doubt for a moment, as if she would count me up,

and then it was that I got my first idea of her quality, for her gaze

pierced me through, and there was capacity in her very bearing.

"You would rob a poor woman?" said she next, in a softer voice. "I

thought 'twas only fat, bloated purses that you gentlemen of the road

would steal."

"No," says I, "I take nothing under five hundred guineas, and if there

be some jewels to crown the pile I will not refuse them"--for this, I

knew from the little fat fool's talk, was what her ladyship carried.

She bit her lip, but still kept her temper.

"I see you are pleased to jest with me," said she. "You gentlemen are

as light of heart as of finger. Come, you shall have my twenty guineas,

if you are so hard, and I will even refrain my curse, if you will

kindly withdraw your head and allow me to proceed"--and at that she

thrust towards me a little bag. She was as cool as ever I have seen man

or woman, which was the more remarkable, seeing how evil was her real

temper. But I took the bag and still kept my place.

"Hark you, madam," said I, for I was not ill-pleased to have a duel

worthy of my tongue and skill; "Galloping Dick never makes a wanton

boast, nor asks what he gets not, nor is afraid of his own mind. There

is five hundred guineas with you, the which I will beg of you for a

keepsake, and in kind memory also will ask those pretty toys." And I

pointed at her necklace. "Had I not been kept a-yawning my head off the

two hours by the wayside, maybe I would have taken the one and left

t'other; but, sink me! I am of a mind for both now," says I.

Again she shot me a glance, and I thought for a moment that she would

have shouted an order to her servants, and have driven on and trusted

to chance. But perhaps she came to the conclusion that the hazard was

too great, as indeed it was, for I would have clapped holes through

chaise and coachman ere they had rolled three paces, and her ladyship

might have come off in that case worse than I was for leaving her. At

anyrate, she did nothing so foolish, but merely uttered an exclamation

in which her fury and her chagrin were indicated, and says she, in

angry despair,--

"Will nothing make you give up? Cannot I persuade you in any way to

use me decently? Lord forgive you, I thought that the toby had some

sense of gallantry."

"By the Lord!" said I, promptly, "and if there is any huff that

says 'no' to that, I would run him through his midriff. We are no

money-weasels, and least of all, Dick Ryder. And maybe that name is

known to you, madam," said I.

"Why, I have heard it, sure," says she, eagerly. "And those that have

spoken of you have given you a good name, for a brave and chivalrous

fellow."

"I have a good repute, and that widely," said I, for 'twas true enough,

and maybe she had heard of my adventure with Old Rowley and the Duchess

of Cleveland, in which I played a pretty figure.

"Why, of course," said she; "I recall you now. Your name, Captain,

has been bruited about the roads from one end of the kingdom to the

other, and it has always come to my ears in good condition. If I recall

aright, there was a tale in which you did some good to an honest woman."

"Does your ladyship refer to Mrs Barbara Crawford and to her

abduction?" said I.

"Why," said she, "now 'tis what I did think of, more especially as a

great friend of mine acquainted me with the facts."

"'Twas on the York Road," said I, looking at her, for her glib tongue

of a sudden had made me shy at her, like a colt of two years.

"'Twas there, Captain, as I remember now well," said she.

"Well," says I, "'tis strange you should ha' happened upon some

witnesses to that little episode, for I thought it had passed out of

mind. But seeing your ladyship is so mindful of me, let me hang if I do

not mark it upon my account with you."

This I said, having discovered how greatly false she spoke, for 'twas

not on York Road, but by Guildford, that the affair happened, and I

would swear that she had heard not a word of it, which, nevertheless,

she might very well have done, seeing that it was notorious in the town

at that time.

"I am always glad to meet a famous man," said she.

"No more than I a handsome lady," said I. "And to show how deeply I am

in earnest, I will forego half the account and all the jewels for a

salutation from miss there."

To say the truth, I had enjoyed my bout with the lady, and was disposed

to be lenient to her for all her airs and sharpness. But the sight

of the niece's eyes of a sudden warmed me and incited me; for she

was looking at me gently, with an odd expression of interest and of

wonder, and her bosom rose and fell swiftly. You may guess that that

set it on even a swifter ebb and tide.

"What d'ye mean?" asked her ladyship.

"I am a gentleman adventurer," said I, "and, damme! I will not deny my

calling; 'tis efficient at the least. But if miss there will permit me

the salutation, rip me! you shall go scot-free."

At that, miss shrank into her corner, all the expression fled from her

face, which was white and stark. But my lady turns on her.

"Hear you that, Celia?" says she. "Buss and let us get on, since this

gallant gentleman must have already delayed himself over-long."

"You are right," said I. "'Tis a scurvy long time since I ha' been

waiting here."

"If you haste not, Celia," says she, very ironic in tone, "the

gentleman will be getting impatient--as well he may, seeing your pale

beauty."

Now this (for 'twas nothing but a sneer) set me against her, the girl

being mightily more handsome than herself and of a fine frailty. But

I said nothing, only looked at miss, who seemed as if she would have

withered out of the chaise.

"Celia!" cries her ladyship, sharply.

"You--you must be jesting, madam. You cannot mean it," says miss in a

low voice. "I have stood much from you, but this insult--"

But my lady broke in, "You will do what I say," she said harshly; "I

command you."

"I will not," says t'other. "Indeed, madam, I may not. Ask me not so to

violate myself."

Upon that her ladyship turned about. "Hark ye," she said, and whispered

in her ear, and upon that, observing her to wince, she said aloud,

"What, d'ye hesitate, when 'tis to spare five hundred guineas and some

odd jewels, including your own?"

"I--I value not mine, madam," says miss, trembling.

"Well, there is mine," said she, "and if they be of not much marketable

value, there is a higher value I put upon them, since they were given

me by your dear uncle. You shall save them."

But, Lord! I am a pretty judge of jewels, and she was lying; for there

was more worth in her jewels far than in her guineas. But I said

nothing, only listened, to hear what miss would answer.

She hesitated, and her ladyship made a peremptory gesture. "Why, 'tis

cheap enough," said she, sardonically. Miss still hesitated, and then,

as it seemed, on a rap from her ladyship, very white of face and

drawn, leaned across to the window. I saw the large eyes gleam in the

faint light, and they were like pools at even in which the stars do

set; but her lips were trembling.

The High Toby Being further chapters in the life and fortunes of Dick Ryder, otherwise Galloping Dick, sometime gentleman of the road · 第 2 / 14 段