CHAPTER FOUR
_Of how We fell in with a Highwayman at the Cross Roads_
Myself and Bentley were returning from another dog-fight. This time mydog had lost (which was but natural, seeing its very unfit condition,though to be sure it looked well enough at a glance). Alas! the sport isnot what it was in my young days, when rogues can so put off a sick dogupon the unsuspecting. Methinks 'tis becoming a very brutal, degradingpractice--have determined to have done with dog-fighting once and forall. Bentley was in a high good humour (as was but to be expected,seeing he had won nigh upon two hundred guineas of me), but then, as Ihave said, Bentley never wins but he must needs show it.
"By the way," said he, breaking off in the middle of the air he washumming, "did you see him at the fight?"
"Him?" says I.
"Raikes," nodded Bentley. "Man Dick, I never see the fellow but myfingers itch for his throat. I heard some talk that he had won athousand or so from young Vesey, by this one bout alone."
"Humph!" says I.
"Come, Dick," says Bentley, "let's get on; he cannot be so very farbehind, and I have no stomach for his society--I'll race you to thecross roads for fifty."
"I'll hurry myself for no such fellow as Raikes!" says I.
"Nor fifty guineas?"
"No," says I, "nor fifty guineas!"
Whereupon, Bentley yielding to my humour, we rode on with never a wordbetwixt us. It lacked now but a short three weeks to Christmas, andevery day served but to bring Jack nearer to his grave, and add afurther load to that which pressed upon my heart. At such times thethought of Pen, and the agony I must see in her eyes so soon, drove mewell-nigh frantic. In this rough world men must be prepared forfortune's buffets--and shame to him that blenches, say I--but whenthrough us Fate strikes those we fain would shelter, methinks it isanother matter. Thus, had Jack proved coward, I for one should haverejoiced for Pen's sake, but as it was, no power on earth could staythe meeting, and this Christmas would bring her but anguish, and a greatsorrow. With all these thoughts upon my mind I was very silent anddespondent--and what wonder! As for Bentley, he, on the contrary,manifested an indifference out of all keeping with his character, aninsensibility that angered and disgusted me not a little, but surprisedand pained me, most of all.
So it was in moody silence that we walked our horses up the hill wherethe beacon stands, and were barely on top, when we heard the sound ofrapidly approaching hoofs behind us, and a few minutes later Sir HarryRaikes with his friend, Captain Hammersley, galloped up.
Hereupon Bentley, in his usual easy, inconsequent fashion, fell intoconversation with them, but as for me, having bowed in acknowledgment oftheir boisterous salutation, I relapsed once more into gloomy thought.Little by little however, it became apparent to me that for some reasonI had become a mark for their amusement; more than once I caught themexchanging looks, or regarding me from the corners of their eyes in suchfashion as set my ears a-tingling. The Captain was possessed of apeculiarly high-pitched, falsetto laugh, which, recurring at frequentintervals (and for no reason as I could see), annoyed me almost beyondbearing. But I paid no heed, staring straight before me and meditatingupon a course of action which had been in my head for days past--a planwhereby Jack's duel might be prevented altogether, and our sweet maidshielded from the sorrow that must otherwise blight her life so verysoon. As I have said before, there was a time, years ago, when I wasaccounted a match for any with the small-sword, and though a man growsold he can never forget what he has learned of the art. I had, besides,seen Raikes fight on two or three occasions, and believed, despite thedisparity of our years, that I could master him. If on the other hand Iwas wrong, if, to put it bluntly, he should kill me, well, I was a verylonely man with none dependent upon me, nay, my money would but benefitothers the sooner; moreover, I was a man of some standing, a Justice ofthe Peace, with many friends in high authority, both in London and theneighbourhood, who I know would raise such an outcry as would serve torid the county of Raikes once and for all. And a better riddance couldnot well be imagined.
Thus, I argued, in either case my object could not fail, and therefore Idetermined on the first favourable opportunity to put the matter to asudden issue. Presently the road narrowed so that we were forced to ridetwo abreast, and I noticed with a feeling of satisfaction that Raikespurposely reined in so as to bring himself beside me.
"By the way, Sir Richard," says he carelessly, "what of Jack Chester?"
"You possibly allude to my friend Sir John Chester," I corrected.
"To be sure," he answered, staring me in the eyes--"to be sure--JackChester." Hereupon the Captain giggled. "They tell me his leg yettroubles him," continued Raikes, seeing I was silent.
"'Tis nearly well," says Bentley, over his shoulder, and at the sametime I noticed his great mare began to edge closer to the Captain'slight roan.
"Can it be possible?" cried Raikes, in mock surprise. "On my soul, youastonish me!" At this the Captain screeched with laughter again, yet hebroke off in the middle to curse instead, as his horse floundered intothe ditch.
"Pink my immortal soul, sir!" says he, as he got down to pick up hishat, "but I verily believe that great beast of yours is gone suddenlymad!" And indeed, Bentley's mare was sidling and dancing in a mannerthat would seem to lend truth to the words.
"No," says Bentley, very solemn, "she has an objection to suddennoises--'twas your laugh frightened her belike."
The Captain muttered a curse or two, wiped the mud from his hat, andclimbing back into the saddle, we proceeded upon our way.
"Speaking of Jack Chester," began Raikes, but here he was interrupted byBentley, who had been regarding us for some time with an uneasy eye.
"Gentlemen," says he, pointing to the finger-post ahead of us, "'tissaid Sir Charles d'Arcy was stopped at the cross roads yonder by ahighwayman, no later than last night, and he swears the fellow was noneother than the famous Jerry Abershaw himself, and he is said to be inthese parts yet."
"The devil!" exclaimed the Captain, glancing about apprehensively, whileI stared at Bentley in surprise, for this was the first I had heard ofit. As for Sir Harry Raikes, he dismissed the subject with a carelessshrug, and turned his attention to me once more.
"Speaking of Jack Chester," says he, "I begin to fear that leg of hiswill never mend."
"Ah?" says I, looking him in the eyes for the first time, "yes?"
"Considering the circumstances," he nodded.
"It would seem that your fears were wasted none the less, sir."
"My dear Sir Richard," he smiled, "as I was saying to some one only theother day, an injured arm--or leg for that matter, has often supplied alack of courage before now."
As he ended, the Captain began to laugh again, but meeting my eye,stopped, for the moment I had waited for had arrived, and I reined roundso suddenly as to throw Sir Harry's horse back upon its haunches.
"Damnation!" he cried, struggling with the plunging animal, "are youmad?"
"Do me the favour to dismount," says I, suiting the action to the word,and throwing my bridle to Bentley.
"And what now?" says Raikes, staring.
"You will perceive that the road here is passably even, and the lightstill fairly good," says I.
"Highly dramatic, on my soul!" he sneered.
"Sir Harry Raikes," says I, stepping up to his stirrup, "you will noticethat I have here a sword and a whip--which shall it be?"
The sneer left his lips on the instant, his face as suddenly grew red,and I saw the veins start out on his temples.
"What," cries he, "is it a fight you're after?"
"Exactly!" says I, and laid my hand upon my small-sword; but at thismoment Bentley rode betwixt us.
"By God, you don't, Dick!" says he, laying his great hand upon myshoulder.
"By God, but I do!" says I, endeavouring vainly to shake off his grasp.
"Man, Dick," cries he, "you are a madman--and full six inc
hes shorterin the reach! Now I--"
"You!" I broke in, "you are a mountain--besides, the quarrel ismine--come, loose me, Bentley--loose me, I say."
"No! Devil take me--do you think I'll stand by and see you murdered?"
"Bentley," I cried, "if ever you were friend of mine you will free myarm this instant."
All this time Raikes sat regarding us with a look of such open amusementas came nigh driving me frantic.
"Mr. Bentley," says he, with a flourish of his hat, "I fancy 'twould beas well for Sir Richard were I and Captain Hammersley to ride on before,yet do not loose him till I am out of sight, I beg."
"You hear, Bentley?" says I, trembling with passion. "Come--let usgo--fool," I whispered under my breath, "for her sake!" Bentley'sfingers twitched upon my arm.
"Ah, I thought so!" he nodded.
"Then quick, do as I bid, and get it over."
"On condition that you settle the affair in the meadow yonder--'tis abetter place in all respects," says Bentley, under his breath.
"I care not where it be," says I.
"So," sneered Raikes, "you are bent on fighting, then?"
"In the meadow yonder," nodded Bentley, pointing with his whip to afield that lay beyond the narrow stone bridge, some little distanceahead.
"As you will," says Raikes, shrugging his shoulders; "but whatever theconsequences, I call you all to witness that Sir Richard's ownimpulsiveness is entirely to blame."
So, having remounted, we rode forward, Raikes and the Captain leadingthe way.
Now as we drew nearer to the bridge I have mentioned, I noticed asolitary figure wrapped in a horseman's cloak who sat upon the coping,seemingly absorbed in watching the flow of the stream beneath. We werealmost upon him when he slowly rose to his feet, and as he turned hishead I saw that he was masked, and, furthermore, that in either hand heheld a long-barrelled pistol.
"Abershaw, by God!" exclaimed the Captain, reining up all of a sudden.
"Stand!" cried a harsh voice, whereupon we all very promptly obeyed withthe exception of Raikes, who, striking spurs to his horse, dashed inupon the fellow with raised whip. There was the sound of a blow, abitter curse, and the heavy whip, whirling harmlessly through the air,splashed down into the stream.
"Ah! would you then?" says the fellow, with the muzzles of the pistolswithin a foot of Sir Harry's cowering body. "Ah, would you? Curse me,but I've a mind to blow the heart and liver out of you--d'ye take me?"
"I'll see you hanged for this," said Raikes, betwixt his teeth.
"Maybe aye, maybe no," says the fellow, in the same rough yethalf-jovial voice, "but for the present come down--get down, d'yehear?" Muttering oaths, Sir Harry perforce dismounted, and being by thisstill nearer the threatening muzzles, immediately proceeded to draw outa heavy purse, which he sullenly extended toward the highwayman, who,shifting one pistol to his pocket, took it, weighed it in his hand amoment, and then coolly tossed it over into the stream.
"What the devil!" gasped Raikes, "are you mad?"
"Maybe aye, maybe no," says the fellow, grinning beneath his mask, "butthat's neither here nor there, master, the question betwixt us being acoat."
"What coat?" cries Raikes, with a bewildered stare.
"This coat," says the fellow, tapping him upon the arm with his pistolbarrel, "and a very passable coat it is--fine velvet, I swear, and asI'm a living sinner, a flowered waistcoat!--come, take 'em off, d'yehear?"
Very slowly, Sir Harry obeyed, swearing frightfully, while the fellow,sitting upon the parapet of the bridge, swung his legs and watched him.
"Humph!" says he, as if to himself, "buckskin breeches, and boots brandnew--burn me!" and then suddenly in a louder tone: "Off with them!"
"What d'ye mean?" snarled Raikes, and his face was murderous.
"What I says," returned the other, with a flourish of his pistols, "suchbeing my natur', d'ye take me? And if the gentleman in the muddy hatmoves a finger nearer his barkers, I'll blow his head off--curse me ifI won't." Saying which the highwayman began to whistle softly, swinginghis legs in time to himself. As for the Captain, the hand which hadcrept furtively towards his pistols dropped as if it had been shot, andhe sat watching the fellow with staring eyes.
And indeed he made a strange, fantastic figure sitting there hunched upin the fading light, with the quick gleam of his ever restless eyesshowing through the slits of his hideous half-mask, and the pout of hiswhistling lips beneath; nay, there was about the whole figure, from therusty spurs at his heels to the crown of his battered hat, somethingalmost devilish, with an indefinable mockery beyond words.
"Bentley," I whispered, as Raikes slowly kicked off his boots one afterthe other, "this fellow's a madman beyond a doubt, or we are dreaming."Bentley's reply was something betwixt a groan and a choke, and lookinground, I saw that his face was purple.
"Man, don't do that," I cried, "you'll burst a blood-vessel!"
"Come," says the fellow, breaking off his whistle of a sudden, andturning over the garments at his feet with the toe of his boot, "youwouldn't go for to cheat me out of your breeches, would you? Come now,master, off with 'em, I say, for look ye, I mislike to be kept waitingfor a thing as I wants--such being my natur', d'ye take me?"
Sir Harry Raikes stood rigid, his face dead white--only his burning eyesand twitching mouth told of the baffled fury that was beyond all words.Twice he essayed to speak and could not--once he turned to look at uswith an expression of such hopeless misery and mute appeal as moved evenme to pity. As for the highwayman, he began to whistle and swing hislegs once more.
"Bentley," says I, "this must go no farther."
"What can we do?" gasped Bentley, and laid his heavy hand upon my arm.
"Come," says the fellow again, rising to his feet.
"No," cries Raikes, in a choking voice, "not for all the devils inhell!"
"I'll count five," grinned the fellow, and he levelled his pistols.
"One!" says he, but Raikes never stirred--"Two," the harsh, inexorablevoice went on, "three--four--" There was a sudden wild sob, and SirHarry Raikes was shivering in his hat and shirt. The highwayman nowturned his attention to Raikes's horse--though keeping a wary eye uponus--and having drawn both pistols from their holsters, motioned him toremount. Sir Harry obeyed with never so much as a word; which done, thefellow gave a whistle, upon which a horse appeared from the shadow ofthe hedge beyond, from whose saddle he took two lengths of cord, andbeckoning to the Captain, set him to bind Raikes very securely to thestirrup-leathers. As one in a dream the Captain proceeded about it(bungling somewhat in the operation), but it was done at last.
"Now, my masters," says the fellow briskly, "I must trouble each one ofyou for his barkers--and no tricks, mark me, no tricks!" With this henodded to Bentley, who yielded up his weapons after a momentaryhesitation, while the Captain seemed positively eager to part with his,and I in my turn was necessitated to do the same.
It may be a matter of wonder to some, that one man could so easilydisarm four, but 'tis readily understood if you have looked into themuzzle of a horse-pistol held within a few inches of your head.
Thus, all being completed, the highwayman, having mounted, gave us theword to proceed, Bentley and I riding first, then Raikes and theCaptain, and last of all the fellow, pistol in hand. So thus it was, inthe dusk of the evening, that we came into Tonbridge Town, with never aword betwixt us--myself silent from sheer amazement, the Captain forreasons of his own, Sir Harry Raikes for very obvious causes, but mostly(as I judge) on account of his chattering teeth, and Bentley because aman cannot whistle "Lillibuleero" beneath his breath and talk at thesame time.
Lights were beginning to gleam at windows as we entered the High Street,and here I made sure the highwayman would have left us--but no, onturning my head, there he rode, close behind--his battered hat over hisnose, and his pistol in his hand, for all the world as if we were backon the open road rather than the main thoroughfare of a Christian town.
By this time we were become a mark
for many eyes; people came runningfrom all sides, the air hummed with voices; shouts were heard, mingledwith laughter and jeers, but we rode on, and through it all at a gallop.As we passed "The Chequers" I saw the windows full of faces, andTruscott and Finch with five or six others came running out to stareafter us open mouthed. So we galloped through Tonbridge Town, and neverdrew rein until we were out upon the open road once more. There thefellow stopped us.
"Masters all," says he, "'tis here we part--maybe you'll forgetme--maybe not--especially one of you; d'ye take me?" and he pointed tothe shivering figure of Raikes. "The wind is plaguily chill I'll allow,but burn me! could I be blamed for that, my masters--what, all silent?Well! Well! Howsomever, give me that trinket, Master--just to showthere's no ill-feeling, so to speak; and he indicated a small goldlocket that Raikes wore round his neck on a riband, who, without a word,or even looking up, slipped it off and laid it in the other'soutstretched hand.
"Well, good-night, my masters, good-night!" says he, in his jovialvoice; "maybe we shall meet again, who knows? My best respects to youall--me being respectful by natur'. Good-night." So, with an awkwardflourish of his hat, he wheeled his horse and galloped away towardsLondon.