come in and welcome. You come in the nick of time to prevent murder."
"Why, I see you have been very merry," says he, with his leer.
I tapped the vintner on the shoulder. "Here is a party," I said, "that
will drink my health. I beg you to open a bottle of your best for these
good friends of mine. How many be you, Timothy?" I asked.
"Call it three, Dick," says he with his tongue in his cheek.
"Make it two bottles, host," said I cheerily.
The vintner, with his mouth open, now coming to his sober senses,
stared at the visitors and at me; but in obedience to my command, he
moved slowly towards the tap-room door, where Grubbe and the trap
stood. I followed him, and had, out of the tail of my eye, a glimpse of
the wench--struck dumb and terrified.
"As touching the guineas of Hogg, Timothy," said I, "you will find 'em
on that scratch-cat over yonder, with the red nose. She is an old hand,
Timothy, and hath a maw for gold, so she hath."
At that the widow started up, protesting and crying out that she knew
nothing of it, and she was innocent, and that he would spare her and
the Lord knows what. So I was avenged on her, the vain old noodle.
But I paid no heed, only walked up behind the vintner till I came
abreast of Grubbe, who grinned at me as he eyed me carefully.
"'Twas not so skilful as usual, Dick," says he, "'twas a boggle--a
blunder."
"Well, there's no boggle this time," said I shortly, and of a sudden
put my foot under him sharply, knocked away his leg and sent him flying
into the room on the top of Booby, who was standing, mouth open. And
next moment I thrust the solid body of the vintner in the face of
the trap and toppled 'em both over. That done, I clapped to the door
instantaneous and darted through the dark tavern and into the road.
There was no one there, so that I knew that Grubbe had lied, or else he
had posted a man behind the house, never thinking I should break out
in front. Once in the road I ran through the blackness of the night,
and, ere the pursuit was after me, was safe in a hiding-place I know,
cursing myself for a fool to have wasted my time and temper on a pack
of asses.
THE MAN IN BLACK
It was after the affair of the King's treasure that there was maybe the
hottest hue and cry raised on me which has ever fallen to my lot in
the course of many adventurous years. The pursuit opened in a little
tavern in Southwark, where I was foolish enough to spend a night and
some guineas in entertaining a pack of rude huffs that did not know
a gentleman from a dung-fork. I had took too much of liquor, and I
suppose that I had spoke too much also. At least, at three of the
morning comes me up the landlord, a decent fellow, with the news that
the traps were on me. I hardly rubbed my eyes, for the fumes were all
gone now, but skipped into my clothes, and, giving him good-day, was
out afoot in a twinkling by a back window, and made for Clapham. Here,
as chance had it, I encountered a stout man on his horse coming up for
the fair, and, laying him in the mud, I mounted and rode as hard as the
nag would carry me towards the south.
I passed through Kingston in the thick of the darkness, and made for
the wilds beyond, only pulling in when I had reached the village of
Ripley in the dawn. 'Twas bitter cold of a raw January day, and the
sun was in a grey welter of clouds that betokened snow. So I drank a
hot draught of ale and brandy, and, giving my nag a bite, was on the
road again, for I knew not how near the enemy might be, and I had vowed
to put ten leagues behind me ere I lay anywhere. The way was vile in
that weather, but I pushed on through Guildford, and at last came to
Liphook, where I sheltered for the night. Now what was my predicament
on the morrow but to find the nag lame and myself in chains to the
spot! But I had covered a long distance, and so says I to myself,
I will rest and give odds to fortune. So I tarried there, pretty
comfortable.
But in the afternoon there comes along a stage from town, in the which,
having spied the ground very carefully, I decided to journey; for I
had by now made up my mind to reach Portsmouth, and ply between there
and Southampton and the west, until such time as the chase was over.
So in goes I, much against my habit, along with a company that seemed
at first little to my taste. There was a respectable old gentleman
that was full of questions; and madam, his wife, that was fat and
slumberous; and to them was a daughter, pretty enough, but with eyes
that marched and countermarched, and usually upon a young man that was
dressed like a Court popinjay. This fellow, as I discovered, was her
lover, Harringay by name, and a pretty cupid he was. The last in the
coach was a staid-faced, sober-clad man, all in a dark kerseymere,
that had come in with me at Liphook, and read a book while 'twas light
and between the jolts. This was dull company, as you may guess, for
Dick Ryder to find himself in, all save the girl, whose eyes went on
a campaign with mine. So, thinks I, if I must be here for some drab
hours, I will at least take some merriment of it, and so I fell to
ogling her, at which she minced and took on a better colour.
'Twas in the act that the old gentleman broke the silence by addressing
me. Snow had fallen in the night, and 'twas now darkening for more. Out
on the Sussex waste tumbled the stage, and of a sudden took the wind.
It heeled her over, and the horses stayed and swayed.
"Heaven save us! We are overturned!" cried the old fellow, looking at
me.
"Not we," said I. "Why, 'twould take all the breath of two heavens to
capsize this old village."
"You think 'tis safe?" says he anxiously.
"As safe as a snail," said I, "and about as speedy. Confound all such
conveyances!" said I. "Give me a horse atwixt my legs and I ask no
more."
"You are a soldier, sir?" said he.
"You may call me that," says I--"a soldier of fortune."
"I knew it," says miss, beaming; and at that the wind took us again,
and the stage jolted on her creaking wheels, sending miss into my arms,
and the old lady upon the thin black fellow.
Miss got herself back with my assistance, blushing ripe and red, and
the old lady cries,--
"Geoffrey, my smelling-salts! Harringay, tuck my skirts down." At
which the popinjay began fumbling in his pockets, and with a sulky air
stooped to do as he was bid. T'other man feigned to go on reading, but
it was too dark now to see print.
"I have no taste for these common stages," says Harringay, presently,
in a fluting voice of affectation. "If I had my way, I would travel by
private coach."
"Maybe," said I, "you cannot stride a horse."
"Indeed," said he, loftily, "I am quite accustomed to it."
"'Tis the only way of progression," I said. "A stout nag and a pair of
barkers."
"Ah," said the old man admiringly, "you soldiers see strange things."
"I'll warrant, yes," said I. "I could tell you that which would make
your hair stand."
Miss was gaping at me, and so was the whole family, but young Harringay
crossed his legs, and says he indifferently,--
"'Tis said soldiers have long tongues."
"Why, they have long swords," said I peremptorily, for I was annoyed by
his airs and graces.
He gave a little laugh, as if he were amused with something all to
himself; and I was aware at the same time that the man in black was
eyeing me steadily. He had the look of a lawyer's clerk, or something
of the sort, so I returned him his stare with nonchalance. This made
him give way, and he turned his attention to the party opposite, for
there could be no pretence now of reading a page.
"You go armed always, sir?" inquired the old gentleman.
"One never knows whom one may meet," said I, with a yawn.
"You signify highwaymen?" he said in a lower voice.
"Why, I'm told there is danger from these gentry," said I.
Harringay laughed lightly.
"Pooh!" he says. "They are main cowards, and would not attack any man
with boldness and a pistol."
The man in black looked at him with interest.
"You carry a pistol, sir?" I asked politely of the popinjay.
He tapped his pocket significantly.
"There is none would dare assail me," he boasted; and miss cast him a
glance of admiration.
"We put ourselves in Mr Harringay's hands," explained the old gentleman
cheerily. "He is our escort."
I thought I saw a smile on the face of the man in black, and I could
not help meeting it; but his suddenly faded away, and he looked out at
the moor, on which the snow and the wind were threshing. The old coach
was lurching on, as if she had been a packet in a storm.
"I shall be sick. My stomach heaves," cried the fat woman, and applied
her smelling-salts; whereat she was attended by her husband and her
daughter, and, lying back, seemed to pass off into sleep.
"'Tis a wild night," says the old man. "I misdoubt we shall fetch
Petersfield."
"Why, that we shall," said I cheerfully, "unless these same gentry you
speak of play us a trick."
"Do you think it likely?" inquired a voice in my ear; and there was the
man in black, broken out of silence for the first time.
"Maybe," said I indifferently, "and maybe not."
"Why," he says, in a raucous voice, "there is nothing here to tempt any
such. What is there among us all?"
"Speak for yourself," said I. "I have that which I would not part with
willingly."
"And I, sir," said the old gentleman. "But with three such young
gentlemen to protect us we need fear nothing."
"Well, I will confess I wouldn't care to be stopped," says the man in
black. "But they would not have much of me."
"There is my box of jewels," says miss, looking eagerly at Harringay,
who smiled and nodded and clapped his hand to a pocket.
"'Tis safe," said he. "You may trust me for that, sweetheart." At which
she smiled on him adoringly.
The man in black had sunk back into his seat, and his heavy breathing
sounded presently in my ear, so that I concluded he, too, was fallen
asleep. I was like to have done the same, for the jolting and the
stuffiness of the air had wearied me; but at that moment the coach came
to a stop, and there was the voice of the coachman calling out that
this was Rake.
'Twas now darkling overhead, but the snow had ceased, and we entered
the Flying Bull to refresh ourselves--a long barn of a place, with
a surly landlord that had not sense enough to serve his customers
properly. But the wine was fair, and I ordered a bottle or two, in the
which I asked the old gentleman to join me.
Says he, "With all my heart, sir, seeing that you add this to my other
obligations."
"What be those?" said I.
He gave me a bow, for he was a civil gentleman, though of a rustic
habit. "You protect us, sir," he said. "We are relying upon your good
weapons and bright courage in the face of emergency."
I laughed. "Oh, as for that," I said, "I can promise you there's none
likely to infest you. You are as safe as in Whitehall within these
fields of white."
"That is well said," remarked the man in black. "And I shall eat, for
my part, with the better assurance after that promise."
He had certain sourness of voice, at which, however, I could not
take offence, for there was nothing in his words to warrant it. But
Harringay must be popping into the conversation, and so I turned my
spleen on him.
"I would not promise," said he, "that we shall not be molested. There
is plenty of cut-throats about, as I have heard."
"Lord, Harringay!" says the old lady, dropping her knife and fork, "you
terrify me. What possessed us to come on this journey?"
He simpered, as one pleased with his effort, adding, "'Tis known as the
worst road out of London."
"Dear heart!" cries the lady, and I saw miss whitening under the bloom
she had took of the cold air.
"'Tis a pity," said I, "that simpletons talk of what they know not.
'Tis the safest road in the kingdom."
"Oh," says he with an air, "I would not discompose anyone. 'Tis best
you should keep up your spirits." And he drank of his wine, whistling
gently, and as one who is superior to circumstance and the rest of the
company.
If he had not been so grotesque an ape I would have said something
more, but as it was I had not the heart to overwhelm him in miss's
presence. So said I good-humouredly, "Well, call me when there is
danger, and I will see if I can spy it out of two spectacles."
I gave miss a jorum of mulled wine, and I plied her mother, who would
eat anything. Never did I see a woman with such an appetite. But the
old gentleman took little or nothing, and only sipped his glass, being
clearly in an anxious state.
"I was promised we should lie at Petersfield to-night," he said in a
plaintive way, "for I have business in Portsmouth to-morrow."
"Oh, you shall lie there safe and warm," said I, "and madam and miss,
too, in as snug blankets as any in the realm, or call me hangman."
I got up and walked to the window. The black night stared back at me
with ominous eyes. Thinks I to myself that we must be hauling out at
once if my words were to come true; for there was snow in the sky
like lead. I turned about, and under the candles saw the man in black
guttling his wine as if he were in a haste to feel its temper in his
stomach. He had drunk one bottle and the better part of another. I
called out to the innkeeper, bidding him ask if we were to stay there
all night, for, if not, we had better be gone. And that seemed to
affect the coachman, for in a little news was come that we were to
start. The last I saw of the table was the figure of the man in black
drinking his second bottle to the dregs.
No sooner were we set in the stage again than the storm began. The wind
swept over the heights and rained on us a deadly flurry of snow. It
battered against the windows and penetrated even to the recesses of
the interior. But we were warm with our wine, and I, for one, lay back
with contentment, with one eye open on miss (who was conscious of my
stare, and fidgeted under it), and t'other on nothingness. The old lady
went off to sleep forthwith with the food she had taken, and trumpeted
at times to the chagrin of her daughter. But what's a snore? At least
it interfered not with me, and presently miss had slipped from me, and
I was at rest like any child. The coach rocked in my dreams, and then
there was a cry, and presently after I opened my eyes with the feeling
that the snow was on my temples.
'Twas not that, however, but the barrel of a pistol that the man in
black held.
"Move," says he fiercely, "and you are a dead man!"
As soon as I was awake I guessed what it was, and so, never stirring a
hand, said I,--
"That command concerns not my jaw, I conceive."
"'Twere best you kept your mouth closed," said he.
"Why," said I, "I perceive that my prognostications were all wrong,
and that we be fallen indeed into the hands of a tobyman, who will, I
trust, prove as gallant as all his kidney."
"Silence!" says he, "and give me what you have."
"You have my pistols?" I asked politely.
"Yes," he replied triumphantly; and at that I knew he was a mere
bungler, and no real gentleman of the road, for he was all a-tremble
with his excitement.
"Well," said I, "there is but the matter of a small bag of guineas--"
"Hand it out," said he sharply.
"Look'ee," said I; "you promise me death do I move."
"I will find it myself," he said quickly.
But I was not for having his dirty fingers on me; so said I, with a
heavy sigh, "If I must, I must." And I drew out a bag from my inner
pocket.
"You have saved yourself," said he hoarsely; and, Lord! I knew again he
was new to the game, for no born tobyman would have rested content with
what I gave him, when there was two bags more of golden pictures safely
stowed in my coat.
"Now that you have what you want," said I meekly, "maybe you will allow
me to ask after my companions."
"You will understand," said he, "that I am here with four loaded
pistols, with the which I will shoot any that moves."
"Oh, I accept my fate," I replied, as if desperately. "Tis the young
lady that I am thinking on."
He laughed harshly.
"You have cast sheep's eyes enough, my good man. I have her jewels."
"Damme, now," says I, "had the jewels been in my keeping I would not
have let 'em go so cheaply. Is the young gentleman in his gore?"
"No," says he curtly.
"We have all been taken by surprise and robbed," says the voice of the
old gentleman tremulously. "This man--"
"Silence!" said the man in black.
"Are you there, miss?" said I to the darkness.
A small voice says,--
"Yes"--very frightened.
"Keep up your heart," said I. "We are none of us hurt, and when once
this awesome ruffian--"
"I command you to be silent," said he savagely.
"Come," said I, "let us have some liberty. You have took our goods; let
us have our tongues left."
At that he said nothing, but there came an interruption. If you will
believe me the old lady had slumbered through it all, and now woke up
at a jolt of the coach, and cried out,--
"Thieves!"
"Why, madam, you say right," said I; "thieves it is, and as ferocious a
tobyman as ever I remember."
With that she fell to screaming, but the man in black clapped his
pistol to her, and gave her a fright that paralysed her to silence.
"Give me what you have," says he.
"I--I have nothing," she stammered. "There is no room on me to hide so
much as a--"
"Bah!" says he. "If you will cease your clatter I will do you no harm."
"The gentleman has promised to do none of us harm," said I, "if we
behave modestly. This coach shall not swim in blood, for the which we
should fall to our prayers in thankfulness."
Whether he perceived my ironic tone and was to resent it I know not;
but I would have been equal to him, the nincompoop. But as chance had
it, just at that moment the coach came to with a crash that sent him
flying against the window. He flourished his pistols wildly, and I
thought the fool would have let one off. Only the door opened on the
other side now, and the head of the coachman peered in. My man presents
at him, shouting,--
"Move, and you're a dead man!"
"What's all this stir?" says the coachman in amazement. "Are ye gone
out of your wits?"
"No," says he. "But you shall be gone out of yours if you stir, and do
not as I wish."
"This gentleman," says I in a mild voice, "has robbed the coach; and
'tis only of his kindness that we get off with our lives."
"You shall cut one of the horses loose and let me have it," said this
ridiculous tobyman, "or I will blow out your brains."
"You're welcome to a horse," grumbled the other, still in astonishment;
"you're welcome to 'em all, if you can get anywhere from here."
"What is it you mean?" he demanded haughtily.
"Why, we're astray--we're in a drift somewhere towards Liss--the Lord
knows where," says t'other.
"Indeed," says I imploringly, "you will not venture your valuable life
on such a night."
But he uttered a savage oath, yet appeared perplexed.
"Look you," said I in another voice. "If you take the horse you will
reach nowhere from here, and you will leave five hapless mortal beings
to starve of cold. Let 'em get back to the road, and then take your
nag."
He was silent for a while, but this argument seemed to appeal to him.
"Very well," said he, "I consent. But if there be any sign of treachery
I will not hesitate to shoot. Go back to your horses."
At this the coachman, no doubt well enough content to be let off at
such a price, shut the door and departed, and presently the stage began
to rumble on again, floundering on the hills towards Liss.
Now you may think how I was tickled at this muckworm trying his hand
at the road. He was some attorney's clerk or maybe 'prentice, I could
have sworn, and he was as fidgety as a cat, seeming not to know what to
do, or whom to confront and bully. Moreover, my attitude had put him in
a flurry, and the knowledge that we were astray had discomfited him.
So he stands with his back at the door, saying nothing, but holding a
barker in each fist. But I was not for letting him alone, and says I,--
"You done that very well. I would I had your composure, and I would
have been his Majesty's Chief Justice by now, with the hanging of
rogues for my business."
At that the old gentleman plucked up spirit enough to venture on a word.
"Alack," he said, "I fear that all those that follow a trade of
violence must come by violence to their end." And sighed.
"That's the truth," said I, smacking my leg. "You have spoke truth if
you die to-night."
"Silence!" cries this shoddy highwayman nervously.
"Your tongue wags, young man," says the fat old lady to me. "But it
appears to me you did little in the defence you boasted of some time
ago."
"I can't abide cold steel at my ears," said I. "Alas that I was born to
encounter so redoubtable a captain!"
"You are a soldier," says she angrily, "and you see us robbed and put
about like this."
"Why, I can endure any ordinary tobyman," said I. "But this fellow
is the very devil. I think any man may be excused to surrender to so
vehement an antagonist. His bark's his bite," says I.
"Harringay, my smelling-salts," says she petulantly.
"I--I have 'em not," stammers he.
"No," said I. "'Tis all along of this gentleman with the barkers.
See you. Mr Harringay and I have had to yield up; and if one of Mr
Harringay's spirit hath done so, why, I think it no shame myself.
But indeed," I went on, struck with a comic idea, "we are neither of
us in need of shame, for I believe this gentleman to be a notorious
gentleman of the road with a terrible reputation. Is't not so, sir?"
says I.
"You are at liberty to believe what you will," says he, but in a milder
voice.
"I have heard of these gentlemen," I went on, "and from his description
I would take oath this is not other than Galloping Dick, Dick Ryder,
that is a terror on the highways. Is it so?" says I again.
"What if I be?" says he; and I believe the huff was well pleased, as
indeed he might be.
"There!" said I triumphantly. "I guessed it. And, believe me, any man
might be proud to submit to Dick Ryder from all I hear."
"Ay, I have heard of him, too," says the old gentleman. "But they say
he is better than would appear, and merciful."
"Oh, never fear," said I. "This gentleman will prove merciful ere we
are finished with him."
"I warn you to expect nothing from me," said he in a more complacent
voice.
Just at that moment the coach began to roll along more smoothly and at
a faster pace, and I judged that we were upon the road again, and that
the coachman was whipping up. This same thought seems to occur to the
fellow, for he opened the window and shouted out to the man to stop,
with a lot of horrid threats. So that presently the coach came to and
the coachman appeared at the door, seeing his manoeuvre had failed.
"What is it?" he said innocently.
"You must keep your bargain," says the man in black. "We are on the
road?"
"Such road as there is," he grumbled.
"Well, cut me one of the horses out, or I will make a hole in you,"
cries the fellow.
"Come," says I, "we were getting on quite famously till now. 'Tis a
pity to end this pleasant party."
But he gave me an oath and stepped out of the vehicle, at which I
seized the young man, Harringay.
"Out with you," said I, "and we will see this mischief to an end."
We got out into the snow, which was still whirling in the air, and I
watched the coachman extricate one of his nags. The tobyman (if I may
so style him) stood with his legs apart, drawn up in his most dramatic
posture, pistols in hand.
"You will not stir," says he, "for full ten minutes after I am gone. If
you do, I will come back and blow your brains out."
This truculent fellow quite appalled the coachman, who busied himself
with the gear, and presently has one of his horses out. This t'other
mounted in an awkward fashion, and turned to us.
"Remember," says he in a warning voice, "I never forget or forgive."
"Now," whispered I to Harringay, "now is the chance to show your
quality. You take him on the near side and I will on the off. Leg or
arm will do. He will topple off on the least shove, the fool."
"But--but," he stammered, "he is armed."
"Damme," said I, furious to meet such cowardice, "are ye frightened of
a pistol in the hands of a mumchance?" And with an oath I left him and
flew at my quarry.
I had got half-way to him when he saw me coming and pointed a barker at
me.
"Stop!" cries he.
"Stop be damned!" says I, and sprang at him.
The pistol went off and took my hat, singeing my forehead, which made
me all the hotter. I seized him leg and neck, and swung him down into
the snow, where he grabbled for another weapon.
"If you move," said I, "I will crack your neck like a rotten stick, my
brave tobyman. Quit, you worm, quit!" And I gave him my fist between
the eyes, so that he lay still.
"Coachman," said I, "you may take your horse and throw a lantern here."
And I fumbled in the man's pockets for a pistol. "Now," said I, "we
are on terms again." And I dragged him to his feet. Harringay came up
now, and says he,--
"Let me help."