That evening Haco Barepoles was seen on the road to Cove, with his
coat-skirts, his cravat-ends, and his hair streaming in the breeze.
An hour previously, however, a brass band was seen walking towards the
same place, and, half an hour after that, a young midshipman was
observed posting rapidly in the same direction.
It was dark when Gildart entered the village, and all the inhabitants
were in their dwellings, so that he reached Gaff's cottage unperceived.
The village was a primitive one. Locks were deemed unnecessary in most
of the cottages, probably because there was nothing worth stealing
within them. Gildart lifted the latch and entered. A fire, nearly out,
with a large piece of coal on it, burned in the grate. The flicker of
this was sufficient to illuminate the boudoir faintly.
Having surveyed the apartment, examined the closet, and looked under the
bed, he went out, and, going to the back of the cottage, found the band
waiting in some anxiety.
"Now, lads, come this way," said Gildart; "and there's only one piece of
advice I've got to give you: don't stir hand or foot after Haco enters
the cottage. He's as big as an elephant, and strong as a lion. If you
stir, and he finds you out, he won't spare you."
"But you promise to come to the rescue, master," said the French horn in
some alarm.
"Ay, that will I; but he'll have two of you floored, another strangled,
and the fourth half-skinned before I can get him to stop."
"I don't half like it," said the clarionet anxiously.
"Pooh! pooh!" exclaimed the key-bugle, "we'll be more than a match for
him; come on; it's worth riskin' for twenty-five bob."
"Hear! hear!" cried the trombone.
"Well, then, enter," said Gildart, pushing open the door, and holding it
while the band filed into the passage. He followed them and closed the
door.
In a short time Haco Barepoles made his appearance. He also passed
through the village unobserved, and, entering the cottage, closed the
door. Thereafter he proceeded to make himself comfortable. The
"boodwar" was empty--at least of human beings, though there was the
Dutch clock with the horrified countenance in the corner, and the new
clock near it, and the portraits and the great four-poster, and all the
other articles of elegance and luxury with which Mrs Gaff had filled
her humble dwelling.
"A queer place," muttered the mad skipper in a soft voice to himself, as
he moved about the room, poked up the fire, and made preparations for
spending the night. "Gaff wouldn't know the old cabin--humph! but it's
all done out o' kindness; well, well, there's no accountin' for women,
they're paridoxies. Hallo! this here closet didn't use to be bolted,
but it's bolted now. Hows'ever here's the loaf and the tea-pot an' the
kettle. Now, Mrs Gaff, you're an attentive creetur, nevertheless
you've forgot bilin' water, an', moreover, there an't no water in the
house. Ah, here's a bucket; that'll do; I'll go to the well an' help
myself; it's _well_ that I can do it," said Haco, chuckling at his own
pun with great satisfaction as he went out to the back of the house.
There was a sudden, though not loud, sound of hollow brass chinking
under the four-post bed.
"Now then, _can't_ you keep still?" said the clarionet in a hoarse
whisper.
"It's cramp in my leg," growled the trombone. "I'd have had to come out
if he hadn't guv me this chance."
"_Won't_ you hold your tongues?" whispered Gildart from the closet, the
door of which he opened slightly.
He shut it with a sudden clap, and there was another clanking of brass
as Haco's footsteps were heard outside, but dead silence reigned within
the hut when the skipper re-entered, and set down on the floor a large
bucket full of water.
"Now then for tea," said Haco, rubbing his hands, as he set about the
preparation of that meal. Being acquainted with the ways and localities
of the cottage, he speedily had the board spread, and the tea smoking
thereon, while the fire flared cheerfully on the walls, casting fine
effects of light and shade on the pictures, and sprinkling the
prominences of the clocks, bed, and furniture with ruddy gleams.
Having devoured his meal with an appetite and gusto worthy of his size,
Haco filled his much-loved German pipe, and, selecting the strongest
chair in the room, sat cautiously down on it beside the fire to enjoy a
smoke.
Meanwhile the brass band endured agonies unutterable. The trombone
afterwards vowed that he "wouldn't for fifty sovs" again go through what
he had suffered during the hour that the mad skipper sat by that fire
enjoying his evening pipe!
At last the pipe was smoked out, and Haco began to divest himself of his
upper garments. Being an active man, he was soon undressed and in bed,
where he lay for a long time perfectly still. Presently he gave vent to
a deep sigh, and turned on his back, in which position he lay quite
still for at least five minutes. At last he gave a soft puff with his
lips, and followed it up with a mild snort from his nose.
This was immediately followed by a light single tap at the closet door.
Instantly the first bar of the Banging-Smash Polka burst from beneath
the bed with such startling suddenness and energy that Gildart was
himself rendered almost breathless. Haco awoke with a yell so dreadful
that the brass band stopped for a single instant, but it burst forth
again with a degree of fury that almost rent the trombone in twain!
The appalled skipper uttered another yell, and sprang up into the air.
The four-poster could not stand the test. Haco went crashing through
the bottom of the bed, flattened the French horn, and almost killed the
trombone, while the broken ends of the planking of the bed pinned them
to the floor. Escape was impossible.
Haco perceived the joke, and instantly recovered his self-possession.
Springing from the bed, he seized the bucket of water which he had
recently drawn, and dashed its contents on the struggling band.
Thereafter he hauled the trombone out of the _debris_ by the neck,
flattened his instrument on his head, and twisted it round his neck.
The key-bugle, who had struggled to his feet, fell before a well-aimed
backhander, and the French horn was about to perish, when Gildart
succeeded in restraining and pacifying the giant by stoutly asserting
that he had won his bet, and insisted on having payment on the spot!
Haco burst into a loud laugh, flung the key-bugle from his grasp, and
pulled on his nether garments.
"I confess that you've won it, lad, so now I'll have another pipe."
He proceeded to fill the German pipe, and stirred up the fire while the
band made good its retreat. Gildart paid the clarionet the stipulated
sum of twenty shillings outside the door, after which he returned and
seated himself beside the mad skipper.
Haco's laugh had changed into a good-humoured smile as he gazed into the
fire and puffed volumes of smoke from his lips.
"It was a risky thing to do, lad," he observed, as Gildart sat down;
"it's well for that feller wi' the long trumpet that the brass was so
thin and his head so hard, for my blood was up, bein' taken by surprise,
you see, an' I didn't measure my blows. Hows'ever, `it's all well that
ends well,' as I once heard a play-actor say."
"But it's not ended yet," said Gildart with decision.
"How so, lad?"
"You've got to pay up your bet."
Haco's brow became a little clouded. The bet had been taken more than
half in joke, for he was not given to betting in earnest; but he was too
proud to admit this on finding that Gildart took it in earnest.
"You'll not want it for a short while, I daresay?" he asked.
"Captain Barepoles--"
"Skipper, lad, I don't like to be cap'ned."
"Well, Skipper Barepoles," said the middy with much solemnity, "I always
pay my debts of honour on the spot, and I expect gentlemen who bet with
me to do the same."
Haco grinned. "But I an't a gentleman," said he, "an' I don't set up
for one."
"Still, as a man of honour you must feel bound--"
"No, lad, not as a man of honour," interrupted the skipper, "but as a
British seaman I'll hold the debt due; only, not bein' in the habit o'
carrying the Bank of England in my weskit-pocket, you see, I must ask
you to wait till to-morrow mornin'."
Haco said this with a slightly disappointed look, for he thought the
middy rather sharp, and had formed a better opinion of him than his
conduct on this occasion seemed to bear out.
"Now, skipper, I'll tell you what it is. I am not fond of betting, and
this bet of mine was taken in jest; in fact my usual bet is ten thousand
pounds, sometimes a million! Nevertheless, you have admitted the debt
as due, and although I do not mean to claim payment in the usual way, I
don't intend to forego my rights altogether. I'll only ask you to do me
a favour."
"What may it be, lad?"
"Will you grant it?"
"Well, that depends--"
"No, it doesn't; say Yes, or I'll claim the ten pounds."
"Well, yes, if it's right and proper for me to do it. Now, what d'ye
want?"
"Humph! Well then," said Gildart, "I want you to let your daughter
Susan get spliced to Dan Horsey."