CHAPTER EIGHT
WHICH IS WITHIN A HAIR'S-BREADTH OF PROVING HIGHLY INTERESTING.
Leaving Captain Crowe and his nephew for the present, though they, andeven the misanthrope, will reappear in due season, we are now obliged toattend the progress of the knight, who proceeded in a southerlydirection, insensible of the storm that blew, as well as of the darkness,which was horrible. For some time, Crabshaw ejaculated curses insilence; till at length his anger gave way to his fear, which waxed sostrong upon him, that he could no longer resist the desire of alleviatingit, by entering into a conversation with his master. By way ofintroduction, he gave Gilbert the spur, directing him towards the flankof Bronzomarte, which he encountered with such a shock, that the knightwas almost dismounted.
When Sir Launcelot, with some warmth, asked the reason of this attack,the squire replied in these words: "The devil, God bless us! mun beplaying his pranks with Gilbert too, as sure as I'm a living soul--I'sewager a teaster, the foul fiend has left the seaman, and got intoGilbert, that he has--when a has passed through an ass and a horse, I'semarvel what beast a will get into next." "Probably into a mule," saidthe knight; "in that case, you will be in some danger--but I can, at anytime, dispossess you with a horse-whip."--"Ay, ay," answered Timothy,"your honour has a mortal good hand at giving a flap with a fox's tail,as the saying is--'t is a wonderment you did not try your hand on thatthere wiseacre that stole your honour's harness, and wants to be anarrant with a murrain to 'un. Lord help his fool's head, it becomes himas a sow doth a cart saddle." "There is no guilt in infirmity," said theknight; "I punish the vicious only." "I would your honour would punishGilbert then," cried the squire, "for 't is the most vicious tuoad thatever I laid a leg over--but as to that same seafaring man, what may hisdistemper be?"
"Madness," answered Sir Launcelot. "Bodikins," exclaimed the squire, "Idoubt as how other volks are leame of the same leg--but it an't vor suchsmall gentry as he to be mad; they mun leave that to their betters.""You seem to hint at me, Crabshaw. Do you really think I am mad?" "Imay say as how I have looked your honour in the mouth; and a sorry dogshould I be, if I did not know your humours as well as I know e'er abeast in the steable at Greavesbury Hall." "Since you are so wellacquainted with my madness," said the knight, "what opinion have you ofyourself, who serve and follow a lunatic?" "I hope I han't served yourhonour for nothing, but I shall inherit some of your cast vagaries--whenyour honour is pleased to be mad, I should be very sorry to be foundright in my senses. Timothy Crabshaw will never eat the bread ofunthankfulness--it shall never be said of him, that he was wiser than hismeaster. As for the matter of following a madman, we may see yourhonour's face is made of a fiddle; every one that looks on you, lovesyou." This compliment the knight returned, by saying, "If my face is afiddle, Crabshaw, your tongue is a fiddlestick that plays upon it--yetyour music is very disagreeable--you don't keep time." "Nor you neither,measter," cried Timothy, "or we shouldn't be here wandering about under acloud of night, like sheep-stealers, or evil spirits with troubledconsciences."
Here the discourse was interrupted by a sudden disaster; in consequenceof which, the squire uttered an inarticulate roar, that startled theknight himself, who was very little subject to the sensation of fear.But his surprise was changed into vexation, when he perceived Gilbertwithout a rider passing by, and kicking his heels with great agility. Heforthwith turned his steed, and riding back a few paces, found Crabshawrising from the ground. When he asked what was become of his horse, heanswered in a whimpering tone, "Horse! would I could once see him fairlycarrion for the hounds--for my part, I believe as how 't is no horse, buta devil incarnate; and yet I've been worse mounted, that I have--I'd liketo have rid a horse that was foaled of an acorn."
This accident happened in a hollow way, overshadowed with trees, one ofwhich the storm had blown down, so that it lay over the road, and one ofits boughs projecting horizontally, encountered the squire as he trottedalong in the dark. Chancing to hitch under his long chin, he could notdisengage himself, but hung suspended like a flitch of bacon; whileGilbert, pushing forward, left him dangling, and, by his awkward gambols,seemed to be pleased with the joke. This capricious animal was notretaken, without the personal endeavours of the knight; for Crabshawabsolutely refusing to budge a foot from his honour's side, he wasobliged to alight, and fasten Bronzomarte to a tree. Then they set outtogether, and, with some difficulty, found Gilbert with his neckstretched over a five-barred gate, snuffing up the morning air. Thesquire, however, was not remounted, without first having undergone asevere reprehension from his master, who upbraided him with hiscowardice, threatened to chastise him on the spot, and declared that hewould divorce his dastardly soul from his body, should he ever beincommoded or affronted with another instance of his basebornapprehension.
Though there was some risk in carrying on the altercation at thisjuncture, Timothy, having bound up his jaws, could not withstand theinclination he had to confute his master. He therefore, in a mutteringaccent, protested, that, if the knight would give him leave, he shouldprove that his honour had tied a knot with his tongue, which he could notuntie with all his teeth. "How, caitiff!" cried Sir Launcelot, "presumeto contend with me in argument?" "Your mouth is scarce shut," said theother, "since you declared that a man was not to be punished for madness,because it was a distemper. Now I will maintain that cowardice is adistemper, as well as madness; for nobody would be afraid, if he couldhelp it." "There is more logic in that remark," resumed the knight,"than I expected from your clod-pate, Crabshaw. But I must explain thedifference between cowardice and madness. Cowardice, though sometimesthe effect of natural imbecility, is generally a prejudice of education,or bad habit contracted from misinformation, or misapprehension; and maycertainly be cured by experience, and the exercise of reason. But thisremedy cannot be applied in madness, which is a privation or disorder ofreason itself."
"So is cowardice, as I'm a living soul," exclaimed the squire; "don't yousay a man is frightened out of his senses? for my peart, measter, I canneither see nor hear, much less argufy, when I'm in such a quandary.Wherefore, I do believe, odds bodikins! that cowardice and madness areboth distempers, and differ no more than the hot and cold fits of anague. When it teakes your honour, you're all heat, and fire, and fury,Lord bless us! but when it catches poor Tim, he's cold and dead-hearted,he sheakes and shivers like an aspen leaf, that he does." "In thatcase," answered the knight, "I shall not punish you for the distemperwhich you cannot help, but for engaging in a service exposed to perils,when you knew your own infirmity; in the same manner as a man deservespunishment, who enlists himself for a soldier, while he labours under anysecret disease." "At that rate," said the squire, "my bread is like tobe rarely buttered o' both sides, i'faith. But, I hope, as by theblessing of God I have run mad, so I shall in good time grow valiant,under your honour's precept and example."
By this time a very disagreeable night was succeeded by a fair brightmorning, and a market-town appeared at the distance of three or fourmiles, when Crabshaw, having no longer the fear of hobgoblins before hiseyes, and being moreover cheered by the sight of a place where he hopedto meet with comfortable entertainment, began to talk big, to expatiateon the folly of being afraid, and finally set all danger at defiance;when all of a sudden he was presented with an opportunity of putting inpractice those new-adopted maxims. In an opening between two lanes, theyperceived a gentleman's coach stopped by two highwaymen on horseback, oneof whom advanced to reconnoitre and keep the coast clear, while the otherexacted contribution from the travellers in the coach. He who acted assentinel, no sooner saw our adventurer appearing from the lane, than herode up with a pistol in his hand, and ordered him to halt on pain ofimmediate death.
To this peremptory mandate the knight made no other reply than charginghim with such impetuosity, that he was unhorsed in a twinkling, and laysprawling on the ground, seemingly sore bruised with his fall. SirLauncelot, commanding Timothy to alight and secure the prisoner, couch
edhis lance, and rode full speed at the other highwayman, who was not alittle disturbed at sight of such an apparition. Nevertheless, he firedhis pistol without effect; and, clapping spurs to his horse, fled away atfull gallop. The knight pursued him with all the speed that Bronzomartecould exert; but the robber, being mounted on a swift hunter, kept him ata distance; and, after a chase of several miles, escaped through a woodso entangled with coppice, that Sir Launcelot thought proper to desist.He then, for the first time, recollected the situation in which he hadleft the other thief, and, remembering to have heard a female shriek, ashe passed by the coach window, resolved to return with all expedition,that he might make a proffer of his service to the lady, according to theobligation of knight-errantry. But he had lost his way; and after anhour's ride, during which he traversed many a field, and circled divershedges, he found himself in the market-town aforementioned. Here thefirst object that presented itself to his eyes was Crabshaw, on foot,surrounded by a mob, tearing his hair, stamping with his feet, androaring out in manifest distraction, "Show me the mayor! for the love ofGod, show me the mayor!--O Gilbert, Gilbert! a murrain take thee,Gilbert! sure thou wast foaled for my destruction!"
From these exclamations, and the antique dress of the squire, the people,not without reason, concluded that the poor soul had lost his wits; andthe beadle was just going to secure him, when the knight interposed, andat once attracted the whole attention of the populace. Timothy seeinghis master fell down on his knees, crying, "The thief has run away withGilbert--you may pound me into a peast, as the saying is. But now I'seas mad as your worship, I an't afeard of the divil and all his works."Sir Launcelot desiring the beadle would forbear, was instantly obeyed bythat officer, who had no inclination to put the authority of his place incompetition with the power of such a figure, armed at all points, mountedon a fiery steed, and ready for the combat. He ordered Crabshaw toattend him to the next inn, where he alighted; then, taking him into aseparate apartment, demanded an explanation of the unconnected words hehad uttered.
The squire was in such agitation, that, with infinite difficulty, and bydint of a thousand different questions, his master learned the adventureto this effect. Crabshaw, according to Sir Launcelot's command, hadalighted from his horse, and drawn his cutlass, in hope of intimidatingthe discomfited robber into a tame surrender, though he did not at allrelish the nature of the service. But the thief was neither so much hurtnor so tame as Timothy had imagined. He started on his feet with hispistol still in his hand; and presenting it to the squire, swore withdreadful imprecations, that he would blow his brains out in an instant.Crabshaw, unwilling to hazard the trial of this experiment, turned hisback, and fled with great precipitation; while the robber, whose horsehad run away, mounted Gilbert, and rode off across the country. It wasat this period, that two footmen, belonging to the coach, who had stayedbehind to take their morning's whet at the inn where they lodged, came upto the assistance of the ladies, armed with blunderbusses; and thecarriage proceeded, leaving Timothy alone in distraction and despair. Heknew not which way to turn, and was afraid of remaining on the spot, lestthe robbers should come back and revenge themselves upon him for thedisappointment they had undergone. In this distress, the first thoughtthat occurred was to make the best of his way to the town, and demand theassistance of the civil magistrate towards the retrieval of what he hadlost; a design which he executed in such a manner, as justly entailedupon him the imputation of lunacy.
While Timothy stood fronting the window, and answering the interrogationsof his master, he suddenly exclaimed, "Bodikins! there's Gilbert!" andsprung into the street with incredible agility. There finding hisstrayed companion brought back by one of the footmen who attended thecoach, he imprinted a kiss on his forehead; and, hanging about his neck,with the tears in his eyes, hailed his return with the followingsalutation: "Art thou come back, my darling? ah, Gilbert, Gilbert! a pizeupon thee! thou hadst like to have been a dear Gilbert to me! how couldstthou break the heart of thy old friend, who has known thee from a colt?seven years next grass have I fed thee and bred thee; provided thee withsweet hay, delicate corn, and fresh litter, that thou mought lie warm,dry, and comfortable. Han't I currycombed thy carcass till it was assleek as a sloe, and cherished thee as the apple of mine eye? for allthat thou hast played me an hundred dog's tricks; biting, and kicking,and plunging, as if the devil was in thy body; and now thou couldst runaway with a thief, and leave me to be flayed alive by measter. Whatcanst thou say for thyself, thou cruel, hard-hearted, unchristian tuoad?"To this tender expostulation, which afforded much entertainment to theboys, Gilbert answered not one word; but seemed altogether insensible tothe caresses of Timothy, who forthwith led him into the stable. On thewhole, he seems to have been an unsocial animal; for it does not appearthat he ever contracted any degree of intimacy, even with Bronzomarte,during the whole course of their acquaintance and fellowship. On thecontrary, he has been more than once known to signify his aversion, bythrowing out behind, and other eruptive marks of contempt for thatelegant charger, who excelled him as much in personal merit, as his riderTimothy was outshone by his all-accomplished master.
While the squire accommodated Gilbert in the stable, the knight sent forthe footman who had brought him back; and, having presented him with aliberal acknowledgment, desired to know in what manner the horse had beenretrieved.
The stranger satisfied him in this particular, by giving him tounderstand, that the highwayman, perceiving himself pursued across thecountry, plied Gilbert so severely with whip and spur, that the animalresented the usage, and being besides, perhaps, a little struck withremorse for having left his old friend Crabshaw, suddenly halted, andstood stock still, notwithstanding all the stripes and tortures heunderwent; or if he moved at all, it was in a retrograde direction. Thethief, seeing all his endeavours ineffectual, and himself in danger ofbeing overtaken, wisely quitted his acquisition, and fled into the bosomof a neighbouring wood.
Then the knight inquired about the situation of the lady in the coach,and offered himself as her guard and conductor; but was told that she wasalready safely lodged in the house of a gentleman at some distance fromthe road. He likewise learned that she was a person disordered in hersenses, under the care and tuition of a widow lady, her relation, andthat in a day or two they should pursue their journey northward to theplace of her habitation.
After the footman had been some time dismissed, the knight recollectedthat he had forgot to ask the name of the person to whom he belonged; andbegan to be uneasy at this omission, which indeed was more interestingthan he could imagine. For an explanation of this nature would, in alllikelihood, have led to a discovery, that the lady in the coach was noother than Miss Aurelia Darnel, who seeing him unexpectedly in such anequipage and attitude, as he passed the coach, for his helmet was off,had screamed with surprise and terror, and fainted away. Nevertheless,when she recovered from her swoon, she concealed the real cause of heragitation, and none of her attendants were acquainted with the person ofSir Launcelot.
The circumstances of the disorder under which she was said to labourshall be revealed in due course. In the meantime, our adventurer, thoughunaccountably affected, never dreamed of such an occurrence; but beingvery much fatigued, resolved to indemnify himself for the loss of lastnight's repose; and this happened to be one of the few things in whichCrabshaw felt an ambition to follow his master's example.