gave it to him, the which he pocketed without so much as examining it.
"And for this warranty," said he, "I have quill and paper;" whereat I
knew that I was upon the right thought. He put a hand into his pocket,
but being by now unsuspecting that he had any to deal with save a mild
sheep, he paid little heed to his earlier precautions; and the next I
had his pistol hand in my clutch. He was taken aback at the first, but
struggled gamely, though (Lord save us!) he was no match for me. With a
twist of the wrist his pistol fell to the road with a dull clank, and
presently I had the door of the chaise open and was gripping him in the
darkness. And now 'twas my barker that was against his forehead.
"I was mistook," said I, as he came to a pause in his struggles, "and
'tis not the gallows will have you, sure, but this cold barrel o' mine.
And so say your prayers."
He uttered a little reckless laugh. "Oh, I will spare you them," says
he; "doubtless you're in haste to be on."
"Come," said I, "off with that mask," and I knocked it clean off his
face with the pistol, just as the moon emerged in her full whiteness.
'Twas a young man, well-formed, and of a handsome bearing, that stood
before me, and I saw that his features were disfigured by a cynical
smile. Yet there was in that expression, as I judged, something
impulsive and full-hearted that took me. I contemplated him.
"You're no tobyman," said I. "A tobyman would think shame to be took as
I took you just now."
For answer he whistled, and then, "Good my man, get forward with your
job," said he. "I have cast and lost."
"Why," said I, lowering my barker, "I know 'twas along of a wager this
was done, and so bungled."
He threw me a glance under the moon without offering to run. "How know
you?" he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Rip me," said I, "when a gentleman of the
road takes the road (save he be in liquor) 'tis for a serious purpose,
and that's guineas. He walks with a proper gait; he's no come-lightly.
But you--" I came to a pause.
"You're wrong," said he, "'twas no wager."
"Oh, well," said I "'tis a pity that so fit a youth should go woo the
Triple Beam, and I find it in my heart to give you a chance. What say
you? Your story for your life."
He thought a moment. "Agreed," said he. "'Tis no harm and no good to
no one. If your ears itch you shall have it."
"Then 'tis sealed on that," I replied, and happened to look away a
moment from him.
In the moonlight the heath emerged dimly, and I descried near a patch
of bushes a waiting figure.
"So," said I, "that is your game, my master. You bring confederates,
and accept of my terms to betray me. Damme, but I will shoot ye both
where ye stand or run."
Now, I was broke out very furious, for it seemed to me that I saw the
whole purpose of this ambush very clearly, and I raised my pistol as I
spoke.
"What's that?" said he, suddenly, and stared at me, and then away to
where my eyes had gone. But at that instant the waiting figure took to
its heels and ran in a white light, limping as it ran till it vanished
swiftly into the darkness.
"By the Lord, Crookes!" said my tobyman.
"So," said I, not now realising where I was, but feeling cautiously
ahead. "And who may Crookes be that's such a white-liver?"
"'Tis Sir Damon's servant," said he, and added: "'Tis in the tale and
the bargain."
"In that case," said I, "let's have the tale and the bargain ere my
mind shifts, as it is apt to do of a cold November night."
He shrugged his shoulders. "You have the advantage, and 'twill hurt nor
harm none. Sir Damon Boll is uncle and guardian to a young lady who
returns me my passion. But he will none of the match, being anxious
to dispose of her to a certain lord. This evening I besought him to
acquiesce in our betrothal, but he refused.
"'If it be money' said I. ''Tis not money,' says he, with his grin.
'If it be place and position,' said I again, but again he interrupted
me. ''Tis neither,' says he. 'Ye're well enough, man, but who weds my
niece must prove himself. Ye're a young gentleman of the town,' says
he. 'When I was young we was wont to be more than that; and, by God!
young man,' says he, 'ye shall have her if ye rob a coach or carry
stand-and-deliver to a chaise.' 'What mean you?' said I, not knowing
what he meant. 'If so be,' said he, speaking more slowly, 'you shall
have spirit and temper enough to take all that is within a traveller's
chaise this night you have my word you shall have my niece.'"
"Well," said I, seeing he paused.
"Well, here I am," said he, and laughed discordantly.
"Come, 'tis a very proper and romantic comedy," said I. "And why d'ye
suppose he gives you this chance?"
He shook his head. "I know not," he said.
"And why d'ye suppose this Crookes, Sir Damon's man, if that be his
name, is hanging about?"
He started. "I never thought of that," said he.
"Well," said I, deliberately, "it means if I was you, young cockerel, I
would think twice ere I put faith in Sir Damon Boll. He hath you in a
cleft stick."
"You mean--" he asked anxiously.
"Why, are you not took in the act?" I replied; "took with a red hand.
And why runs that rogue back to his master? He hath followed you."
"Damnation!" says he, starting, and looks at me.
"Upon my heart," I said, "ye're a pretty fellow to take to the roads,
with no more prudence or care about you than a sucking dove. If I
mistake not, down flies this Crookes with news of your discomfiture, as
he would also have been witness to your success; and presently maybe up
comes Sir Damon to gloat upon you. Oh, I have a fondness for such deep,
ripe rascals, stap me, I have!"
He stood moodily fiddling with his fingers, a frown on his brow.
"Well?" said he at last inquiringly, and smiling defiant.
"Well," said I, "I think I will have a look at this Sir Damon, and gads
me! if there be not the sound of a vehicle. Would ye like another fling
at the high toby?"
He looked at me in wonder, and I winked.
"Should this be Sir Damon--"
He whistled. "Now, damme," he cried briskly, "ye're the gamest cock
that ever crowed out of Whitehall."
"Well, let's go to meet him and seek what we shall find," I said, for I
did not want that the arriving carriage should come up with mine; and
so bestowing an order on my wondering fellow; we walked back briskly
upon the London Road.
The night was still relieved by the pale moon that shone through the
naked oaks behind us, and we could perceive the huddle of a chaise
separating out of the darkness a score or two of yards away.
"'Tis his livery," says my friend, "'tis his coach for sure."
"Well, may I perish, but he runs a hazard this night, does this said
Sir Damon," I said with a laugh, and I took him by the arm. "Look you,"
says I, "you were but a bantam, with a bantam's voice yonder. You
shrilled too high, damme, for your spurs. If you would venture another
main, take heed to one that knows, and keep your eyes straight--as
straight as your weapon. With level hands and eyes, rot me! I would be
afraid of nothing under heaven save stalking ghosts and ill-willing
witches. Set on, man, if so you have a mind, and I'll wager you will go
through with the adventure."
"Gad!" says he, with his laugh, "I will pluck him bare for his pains,
and enjoy it. I am your debtor, sir, for this night's topsy-turvy."
Just then the chaise rocked into the faint light before us that stood
in the darkness of the trees, and he made a step forward, halted as
if in doubt, and then dashed at it, shouting in a loud voice to the
postilion. But I lay close in my earth, like an old fox, watching of
'em.
Well, the chaise was at a stand-still, and there was a hubbub, as you
may fancy; for the old gentleman was come out to see a highwayman took,
and not to be rumpadded himself. But he was of a stout spirit, and
though there was my young gentleman at the window with his barker, and
his mask that he had refitted on him, I could descry a white head poked
forth and a voice exchanging words sharply.
"Deliver!" says my man.
"Deliver! I will see thee damned first," says the spirited old
bubblyjock.
"I regret the necessity," says my man, presently, but his barker drew
nearer.
"I will have this place scoured for you," said the old boy.
"If you make more ado," says my man, amiably, "I shall be in the sad
case of dabbling white hairs red." With that, seeming to recognise the
folly of resistance, Sir Damon sank back in his seat.
"What is't you want?" he asked in another voice.
"'Tis very simple," says t'other; "merely all that is in your chaise
with you, save what clothes you sit in." And now that the man's head
no longer blocked the window he pressed closer in, and at the same
instant uttered an exclamation of surprise. And so I daresay did Sir
Damon also, for he must have recognised by that saying with whom he had
to deal; the which must have astonished him who came forth to see the
young buck laid by the heels. But he gave vent to no sound just then,
and 'twas my young gentleman of the toby who spoke.
"I will be content with nothing short of all that is with you, sir,"
said he, in a gay voice, as of one well content with himself and
destiny. "And first, your purse."
Well, he must have got that, for says he next, "Now, your jewel-case;"
and that too came out of the window in the ghost of a hand that was
like a woman's for slenderness. "Ye're prompt in payment, my dear sir,"
continues my friend, "for the which I thank ye as an exacting creditor.
But you have still something by you."
Then comes in Sir Damon's voice, quite still and cool now. "You have
all, sir--you have all. My word spells my honour, unless, indeed, you
have changed your courteous intention about my clothes."
"Nay, I leave none bare," says he, "in particular to those wild winds.
But I see you have company, and fair company too;" at the which, as you
may guess, I pricked up my ears and moved forward a step out of the
darkness.
"Well, sir," says Sir Damon from the coach, sharply, "would you rob the
lady also?"
"No," says he, with a laugh, "only of your company. I trust I am a
gallant tobyman, if even upon compulsion. In truth I have no real
liking for the business, but was driven to it of necessity. Yet while I
am in it I must e'en make what I can out of it. And since I must take
all that is in the chaise, save yourself, my good sir, I will make bold
with the lady if she will forgive me."
Hearing that, I could have slapped my thigh in my delight at his wit
and quickness, for I began at once to see how matters stood. Here was
Sir Damon driving forth with his ward and niece, maybe with the intent
that she should publicly witness with her own eyes the wretched plight
and humiliation of her lover; and now that lover appears to discomfit
her guardian and wrest her triumphantly from his arms. It was an
excellent fine ploy and tickled me much; for, damme, 'twas after my own
heart.
But when he had spoken Sir Damon answers nothing for a time, and then
seeing, I suppose, that he was beaten all round he says,--
"Very well," says he, "I am, as I have assured you, my good scoundrel,
a man of my word and honour. So what I have said I have said. You
have now your wages, and shall have your reward, though I confess I
had not anticipated it. But to-morrow 'tis my turn, for I too have an
unexpected card in the game. And so, when the lady is safely alighted
in this balmy air and on this cosy heath, at your disposal, I shall be
obliged if you will order my man to drive on, so that I may finish this
somewhat benighted journey in peace."
This was, you will admit, a dignified surrender, and I could not but
see that he was really at the advantage. For though the lad had won
his wages and his bride, he was at the mercy of this man, as hard as
Satan, maybe, or as grim as Death. And he would go hang on the beam for
this night's work, if so be Sir Damon desired it, and this, you may
conceive, was not a pleasant plight for the young fellow. But, bless
you, he had no fears. He had won his bet, and he had handed forth his
sweetheart, and was, I doubt not, all in a flurry of passion for the
meeting. Bah! this love turns men dizzy; it steals their wits more
wildly than wine. Let be! 'Tis well enough in a way, but, rip me, if
I would be so rankly stirred. The old cock had the advantage and knew
it. He gazed out at the silly pair from his window with hard eyes and
expressionless face, and shouted a command to his man, at which the
chaise turned and began to move slowly towards London again.
At that instant, seeing how awkward a face things wore, and being of a
mind to see the stir through to the end, a notion flashed in my head
and I came forward to the couple. Miss I could not see, for she was in
wraps, and she might have been a scullion-wench for all I could tell.
But says I to him,--
"See you, take my coach and drive on to the Nag by Carshalton and there
await me. I will deal with this Lord Chief Justice myself;" and leaving
'em with no more words I ran after the departing chaise as fast as
maybe.
When I had reached it I rapped on the window, and out pops the old
gentleman's white head once more.
"Another of you?" says he; "this place grows 'em like brambles," and
would have discharged a pistol full in my face.
"Hold!" said I, "'tis your assistance I want, sir. I believe you have
been rumpadded by a tobyman just now. Well, I am in a like case, and
was bound whilst he took you. But now he is gone off with my chaise,
and I beg you will join us in pursuit. Sure, sir," seeing nothing on
his face but its pale mask, "we be enough, armed as we are, to overtake
and bring him to account, especially that he hath with him now, as it
seems, some go-lightly. But I cannot without my coach o'ertake them."
He seemed to consider a little, scrutinising me. "Well," said he, at
last, "you seem a likely man in emergencies. If you are armed, as you
say, and have the resolution, I do not know but the plan will fit in
with my own. I had another design, but maybe both are admirable, and at
least they will not conflict."
So without more ado he invited me into the chaise, and then conceive me
sitting in miss's place, the horse's heads turned again for the south,
and Sir Damon and Dick Ryder chatting agreeably and affably together
as they had been sworn friends or long acquaintances.
At least 'twas I that chatted, and he was mostly silent in an amicable
enough way, interjecting a question, or commenting with satiric
humour, what time we lurched along towards Ewell and Epsom. But now
you will have an inkling of my design when I say that if this old fox
was permitted to return straightway to town he would no doubt set the
officers on his enemy and have him forthwith lodged in the jug. Maybe,
thought I to myself, with a little trickery and a little persuasion of
my own kind, that could be prevented and the boy have a run for his
life at the least. So that was why we were jogging along the Epsom
Road through a dark and miry night on the track (as he thought) of the
runaways.
Presently, interrupting a tale of mine about Jeremy Starbottle, says
he, bluffly,--
"We seem no nearer, sir. It would look as if your horses were superior
to mine."
"Why," said I, in answer, "'tis odds they'll keep this road, for the
sideways are foul and lead nowhither. Moreover, they will not expect to
be pursued. We shall fetch 'em presently."
"Very well," says he, lying back, "but I beg you will give me a little
leave. I was shortened of my nap this afternoon."
Now this was a plain hint, as you see, for me to hold my tongue, but I
took no offence, for there was no occasion. "Sir," said I, "I am mum. I
do not overstay my welcome," and I too lay back.
For some time we proceeded in silence; but presently, the chaise
jogging more than usual, he sat up.
"It seems to me," said he, "that we are upon a wild-goose chase, we
shall not catch him in this wilderness."
"Oh," said I, "he cannot be so far in advance--not he with my nags,
I'll warrant."
He looked at me doubtfully in the small light. "Very well," he said at
last, shortly, "we will try a little longer;" and he peered out upon
the night if so be he might determine where we were.
I looked out also, and now we were passing through Carshalton, where
I had bid the doves assemble for to meet me. But, damme, my business
was not yet done, and the coach rolls creaking out of Carshalton and
on the way to Epsom. This seemed to stir the old gentleman again to
perplexity, for again he directed a look out of the window, and then
another at me. I felt his gaze wander over me from top to boot as if he
measured me.
"You have fought abroad," says he at last.
"Not I," says I; and added to that, "There's too many that babble about
these foreign wars. Deliver us, a good English war is more to my taste,
and better fighting too," says I.
"Ah!" says he, still coolly inspecting me, as if he cared not whether I
saw him or not, "then you will have fought in his Majesty's intestine
wars?" said he.
"What's that?" said I, turning on him.
"No doubt," said he, suavely, "you have fought, sir, for his Majesty
King James against the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth."
"Who gave you leave to suppose I have fought at all?" said I, sharply,
being irked by his persistence. "I am no fighting man, but one of
peace."
"Oh," says he, "but I took you for a soldier and a captain-at-arms at
least. And indeed I believe you would have furnished material for a
good soldier." He surveyed me meditatively. "Yes, I'll promise that;
good material, sir, sound fighting stock, and no splitting straws or
scruples."
"Damme," said I, bluntly, "what d'ye mean?"
He sank back in his seat. "I mean no offence," said he, "but I think as
'tis shrewd to-night I will e'en turn about for home."
"Nay," said I, masterfully, "you must not do that since we are come
so far. Let us finish the adventure, sir, and not leave hold of it.
'Twould never do. We will be catching of 'em by the heels presently."
He pursed his lips together, as if he whistled under his breath, and
there was a pause, while the noise of the chaise drowned all sound
about us. But my senses are not sharp for nothing, and next I was aware
of a glint of light upon steel, for the moon as we rocked swayed in at
the window, and I guessed that he was bringing his pistol from under
his cloak.
I pulled forth mine abruptly. "Yes," says I, "'tis as well to be
prepared, sir. I am glad you are so forward. We may have a fall-to when
we encounter, but I'll warrant ye're as good with your barker as I with
mine."
"I hope so," said he, without betraying any feeling. "I do earnestly
hope so; even, sir, to be a little better would be to my taste. As you
say, we may come to an encounter soon, and 'tis as well to be prepared."
Now the old buck puzzled me, and I perpended. If he had any suspicion
that this was not a genuine pursuit, and I was other than I had feigned
to be, why sat he there silent and cool? But if he had no scent of
danger what was the significance of his words, which did smell to me
of the ironic? It angered me to be so baffled by him and his quiet
features; but I did not well see what I might do or say just then, and
so kept silence like himself. And indeed 'twas he broke it.
"We must be drawing nigh Ewell, so far as I may guess," he said. "Would
you be good enough to tell me what course you propose when we reach
Ewell? If I might without impropriety make a humble suggestion, I would
advise that we ate some supper and lay there comfortably for the night,
to resume this interesting journey doubtless on the morrow, or perhaps
the next day."
With that I saw at once how it was, and I gave vent to a little laugh.
"Why, you shall do as you please, sir," said I, "and that plan will
serve me admirably."
"Ah!" says he, looking at me, "then maybe there is something amiss with
it. Suppose we come to an understanding. I think you are too young,
and I am too old, to want to die by violence. We both have a taste for
life, I take it. Where stand we then? We are pursuing a gentleman of
the road--"
"Pardon me," said I, interrupting, for the time was come now to
disclose myself, and I looked to be mightily tickled by the disclosure,
"no longer pursuing, but maybe even pursued."
"Pursued!" he asked doubtfully.
"Well, at least we are some miles ahead of the turtle-doves that are
cooing, maybe, somewhere safe and sound behind us."
His eyes never changed; only the thin lips moved a little. "Ah!" says
he, "the turtle-doves! I had some notion--but who then are you, my dear
sir?"
"I am but a philosophic observer," said I, airily. "'Tis my business to
look on and smile. I take no part in the rough acts of fortune."
"Pardon me," said he, suavely, "but I think you are too modest,
Captain."
"Captain!" said I, sharply.
"Well, well, I had forgot you were no soldier. You have the air of a
soldier, and the makings, as I have remarked. But, sir, let me tell
you, you are too modest. This journey, for example--"
"Oh, that was my whim," said I. "I interposed out of a benevolent
heart, for to serve two young folks fond of billing and to make an
illustrious acquaintance for myself."
He bowed in his corner. "I trust you will not make a more illustrious
acquaintance still," he said dryly.
"Why," said I, for I knew what he meant, "you forget that at your
invitation I am here in pursuit of our common enemy."
"True," he said, considering. "It has a smooth face upon it. I perceive
you, sir, to be a gentleman of your wits."
Now 'twas my turn to bow, and indeed he was not wrong, for it has ever
been my good fortune to find a way out of a difficulty when others
would stand agape, like oafs and asses. But he went on, in his still
voice: "But now that I see our friend, the common enemy, as you put it,
enjoyed a confederate, it appears I must reconsider the circumstances.
In fine, his wager fails--"
"I am no confederate," I broke in.
"And thus there is no necessity that he receive the penalty which I had
designed as a wedding-present for him," he finished, not appearing to
heed me.
"Sir Damon, I have told you that I am but an onlooker," said I.
He elevated his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
"Rip me," said I, angrily, "I never clapped eyes on the fellow till the
quarter-of-an-hour ere you came up, and I will be damned if I should
tick him off from Adam did I see him again."
"You perceive that you are rehabilitating the penalty," he remarked
dryly, and I could see he did not credit me, which made me angrier.
"By the Lord," said I, "I have the honour to tell ye that the young
muckworm rumpadded me in my chaise just as you were come up--damme, he
did, if it were not that I turned his barkers on him."
Sir Damon eyed me and then all of a sudden broke out into soft
laughter, as if he were greatly tickled.
"Is't so?" said he. "The Lord love him for a simpleton! Faith, I could
forgive--" He chuckled quietly, and then looked at me again, still
smiling.
"You know, sir, what penalty menaces them that abduct or hold a ward
from her guardian?"
"'Tis a guardian I have abducted from his ward," said I.
He laughed quietly. "Very well," said he, "let us leave it at that."
And then, "You know, sir, what a fool the fool is?"
"He is no tobyman," said I.
"'Tis commensurate with his life in general," said Sir Damon, easily.
"He is born Tom-fool and has two handsome, dancing eyes." He paused.
"I will not maintain," says he next, "that for happiness wisdom is
necessary, or even adequate. I have not found it so myself, nor perhaps
you, friend--Captain?"
"In that case," says I, "repay a fool with his folly, which is
marriage."
"Then we are agreed," said he, genially. "I too am a bachelor. And now
that we are agreed on one thing, Captain, Mr--" He hesitated.
"Ryder," said I.
"Mr Ryder," said he, "let us be agreed all along the line. If I forego
the penalty--"
"I will treat your worship to as damnable a fine supper and bottle as
was ever served in England," I interrupted, "and we will drink to the
turtles at Carshalton."
"Carshalton," he says reflectively. "I had an idea 'twas Carshalton,
but your pistol was persuasive."
"Well, sir," said I, "here is Ewell, and in a tavern that I know we
shall be hospitably received and used this foul night."
"Good," says he, preparing to alight as the chaise came to a stop, "and
pray bear in mind, Mr Ryder, that I am penniless and homeless."
"Damme," said I, heartily, "ye're welcome to all that's mine, and
that's not beggary; and, damme, while I can keep such company I envy
not the turtle with his mate at Carshalton."
He was now in the road, and he turned. "Nor I, Ryder, nor I," he said
pleasantly.
MY LADY'S RING