landlord, the guests, and the liquor--to remark the sprawl of his
mighty jack-boots, before the sweep of which the timid guests edged
farther and farther away; and the languishing leers which he cast on
the landlady, as with wide-spread arms he attempted to seize upon
her.
When the ostler had done his duties in the stable, he entered the
inn, and whispered the landlord that "the stranger was riding John
Hayes's horse:" of which fact the host soon convinced himself, and
did not fail to have some suspicions of his guest. Had he not
thought that times were unquiet, horses might be sold, and one man's
money was as good as another's, he probably would have arrested the
Ensign immediately, and so lost all the profit of the score which
the latter was causing every moment to be enlarged.
In a couple of hours, with that happy facility which one may have
often remarked in men of the gallant Ensign's nation, he had managed
to disgust every one of the landlord's other guests, and scare them
from the kitchen. Frightened by his addresses, the landlady too had
taken flight; and the host was the only person left in the
apartment; who there stayed for interest's sake merely, and listened
moodily to his tipsy guest's conversation. In an hour more, the
whole house was awakened by a violent noise of howling, curses, and
pots clattering to and fro. Forth issued Mrs. Landlady in her
night-gear, out came John Ostler with his pitchfork, downstairs
tumbled Mrs. Cook and one or two guests, and found the landlord and
ensign on the kitchen-floor--the wig of the latter lying, much
singed and emitting strange odours, in the fireplace, his face
hideously distorted, and a great quantity of his natural hair in the
partial occupation of the landlord; who had drawn it and the head
down towards him, in order that he might have the benefit of
pummelling the latter more at his ease. In revenge, the landlord
was undermost, and the Ensign's arms were working up and down his
face and body like the flaps of a paddle-wheel: the man of war had
clearly the best of it.
The combatants were separated as soon as possible; but, as soon as
the excitement of the fight was over, Ensign Macshane was found to
have no further powers of speech, sense, or locomotion, and was
carried by his late antagonist to bed. His sword and pistols, which
had been placed at his side at the commencement of the evening, were
carefully put by, and his pocket visited. Twenty guineas in gold, a
large knife--used, probably, for the cutting of
bread-and-cheese--some crumbs of those delicacies and a paper of
tobacco found in the breeches-pockets, and in the bosom of the
sky-blue coat, the leg of a cold fowl and half of a raw onion,
constituted his whole property.
These articles were not very suspicious; but the beating which the
landlord had received tended greatly to confirm his own and his
wife's doubts about their guest; and it was determined to send off
in the early morning to Mr. Hayes, informing him how a person had
lain at their inn who had ridden thither mounted upon young Hayes's
horse. Off set John Ostler at earliest dawn; but on his way he woke
up Mr. Justice's clerk, and communicated his suspicions to him; and
Mr. Clerk consulted with the village baker, who was always up early;
and the clerk, the baker, the butcher with his cleaver, and two
gentlemen who were going to work, all adjourned to the inn.
Accordingly, when Ensign Macshane was in a truckle-bed, plunged in
that deep slumber which only innocence and drunkenness enjoy in this
world, and charming the ears of morn by the regular and melodious
music of his nose, a vile plot was laid against him; and when about
seven of the clock he woke, he found, on sitting up in his bed,
three gentlemen on each side of it, armed, and looking ominous. One
held a constable's staff, and albeit unprovided with a warrant,
would take upon himself the responsibility of seizing Mr. Macshane
and of carrying him before his worship at the hall.
"Taranouns, man!" said the Ensign, springing up in bed, and abruptly
breaking off a loud sonorous yawn, with which he had opened the
business of the day, "you won't deteen a gentleman who's on life and
death? I give ye my word, an affair of honour."
"How came you by that there horse?" said the baker.
"How came you by these here fifteen guineas?" said the landlord, in
whose hands, by some process, five of the gold pieces had
disappeared.
"What is this here idolatrous string of beads?" said the clerk.
Mr. Macshane, the fact is, was a Catholic, but did not care to own
it: for in those days his religion was not popular.
"Baids? Holy Mother of saints! give me back them baids," said Mr.
Macshane, clasping his hands. "They were blest, I tell you, by his
holiness the po--psha! I mane they belong to a darling little
daughter I had that's in heaven now: and as for the money and the
horse, I should like to know how a gentleman is to travel in this
counthry without them."
"Why, you see, he may travel in the country to GIT 'em," here
shrewdly remarked the constable; "and it's our belief that neither
horse nor money is honestly come by. If his worship is satisfied,
why so, in course, shall we be; but there is highwaymen abroad, look
you; and, to our notion, you have very much the cut of one."
Further remonstrances or threats on the part of Mr. Macshane were
useless. Although he vowed that he was first cousin to the Duke of
Leinster, an officer in Her Majesty's service, and the dearest
friend Lord Marlborough had, his impudent captors would not believe
a word of his statement (which, further, was garnished with a
tremendous number of oaths); and he was, about eight o'clock,
carried up to the house of Squire Ballance, the neighbouring justice
of the peace.
When the worthy magistrate asked the crime of which the prisoner had
been guilty, the captors looked somewhat puzzled for the moment;
since, in truth, it could not be shown that the Ensign had committed
any crime at all; and if he had confined himself to simple silence,
and thrown upon them the onus of proving his misdemeanours, Justice
Ballance must have let him loose, and soundly rated his clerk and
the landlord for detaining an honest gentleman on so frivolous a
charge.
But this caution was not in the Ensign's disposition; and though his
accusers produced no satisfactory charge against him, his own words
were quite enough to show how suspicious his character was. When
asked his name, he gave it in as Captain Geraldine, on his way to
Ireland, by Bristol, on a visit to his cousin the Duke of Leinster.
He swore solemnly that his friends, the Duke of Marlborough and Lord
Peterborough, under both of whom he had served, should hear of the
manner in which he had been treated; and when the justice,--a sly
old gentleman, and one that read the Gazettes, asked him at what
battles he had been present, the gallant Ensign pitched on
a couple
in Spain and in Flanders, which had been fought within a week of
each other, and vowed that he had been desperately wounded at both;
so that, at the end of his examination, which had been taken down by
the clerk, he had been made to acknowledge as follows:--Captain
Geraldine, six feet four inches in height; thin, with a very long
red nose, and red hair; grey eyes, and speaks with a strong Irish
accent; is the first-cousin of the Duke of Leinster, and in constant
communication with him: does not know whether his Grace has any
children; does not know whereabouts he lives in London; cannot say
what sort of a looking man his Grace is: is acquainted with the
Duke of Marlborough, and served in the dragoons at the battle of
Ramillies; at which time he was with my Lord Peterborough before
Barcelona. Borrowed the horse which he rides from a friend in
London, three weeks since. Peter Hobbs, ostler, swears that it was
in his master's stable four days ago, and is the property of John
Hayes, carpenter. Cannot account for the fifteen guineas found on
him by the landlord; says there were twenty; says he won them at
cards, a fortnight since, at Edinburgh; says he is riding about the
country for his amusement: afterwards says he is on a matter of
life and death, and going to Bristol; declared last night, in the
hearing of several witnesses, that he was going to York; says he is
a man of independent property, and has large estates in Ireland, and
a hundred thousand pounds in the Bank of England. Has no shirt or
stockings, and the coat he wears is marked "S.S." In his boots is
written "Thomas Rodgers," and in his hat is the name of the "Rev.
Doctor Snoffler."
Doctor Snoffler lived at Worcester, and had lately advertised in the
Hue and Cry a number of articles taken from his house. Mr. Macshane
said, in reply to this, that his hat had been changed at the inn,
and he was ready to take his oath that he came thither in a
gold-laced one. But this fact was disproved by the oaths of many
persons who had seen him at the inn. And he was about to be
imprisoned for the thefts which he had not committed (the fact about
the hat being, that he had purchased it from a gentleman at the
"Three Rooks" for two pints of beer)--he was about to be remanded,
when, behold, Mrs. Hayes the elder made her appearance; and to her
it was that the Ensign was indebted for his freedom.
Old Hayes had gone to work before the ostler arrived; but when his
wife heard the lad's message, she instantly caused her pillion to be
placed behind the saddle, and mounting the grey horse, urged the
stable-boy to gallop as hard as ever he could to the justice's
house.
She entered panting and alarmed. "Oh, what is your honour going to
do to this honest gentleman?" said she. "In the name of Heaven, let
him go! His time is precious--he has important business--business of
life and death."
"I tould the jidge so," said the Ensign, "but he refused to take my
word--the sacred wurrd of honour of Captain Geraldine."
Macshane was good at a single lie, though easily flustered on an
examination; and this was a very creditable stratagem to acquaint
Mrs. Hayes with the name that he bore.
"What! you know Captain Geraldine?" said Mr. Ballance, who was
perfectly well acquainted with the carpenter's wife.
"In coorse she does. Hasn't she known me these tin years? Are we
not related? Didn't she give me the very horse which I rode, and,
to make belave, tould you I'd bought in London?"
"Let her tell her own story. Are you related to Captain Geraldine,
Mrs. Hayes?"
"Yes--oh, yes!"
"A very elegant connection! And you gave him the horse, did you, of
your own free-will?"
"Oh yes! of my own will--I would give him anything. Do, do, your
honour, let him go! His child is dying," said the old lady,
bursting into tears. "It may be dead before he gets to--before he
gets there. Oh, your honour, your honour, pray, pray, don't detain
him!"
The justice did not seem to understand this excessive sympathy on
the part of Mrs. Hayes; nor did the father himself appear to be
nearly so affected by his child's probable fate as the honest woman
who interested herself for him. On the contrary, when she made this
passionate speech, Captain Geraldine only grinned, and said, "Niver
mind, my dear. If his honour will keep an honest gentleman for
doing nothing, why, let him--the law must settle between us; and as
for the child, poor thing, the Lord deliver it!"
At this, Mrs. Hayes fell to entreating more loudly than ever; and as
there was really no charge against him, Mr. Ballance was constrained
to let him go.
The landlord and his friends were making off, rather confused, when
Ensign Macshane called upon the former in a thundering voice to
stop, and refund the five guineas which he had stolen from him.
Again the host swore there were but fifteen in his pocket. But
when, on the Bible, the Ensign solemnly vowed that he had twenty,
and called upon Mrs. Hayes to say whether yesterday, half-an-hour
before he entered the inn, she had not seen him with twenty guineas,
and that lady expressed herself ready to swear that she had, Mr.
Landlord looked more crestfallen than ever, and said that he had not
counted the money when he took it; and though he did in his soul
believe that there were only fifteen guineas, rather than be
suspected of a shabby action, he would pay the five guineas out of
his own pocket: which he did, and with the Ensign's, or rather Mrs.
Hayes's, own coin.
As soon as they were out of the justice's house, Mr. Macshane, in
the fulness of his gratitude, could not help bestowing an embrace
upon Mrs. Hayes. And when she implored him to let her ride behind
him to her darling son, he yielded with a very good grace, and off
the pair set on John Hayes's grey.
"Who has Nosey brought with him now?" said Mr. Sicklop, Brock's
one-eyed confederate, who, about three hours after the above
adventure, was lolling in the yard of the "Three Rooks." It was our
Ensign, with the mother of his captive. They had not met with any
accident in their ride.
"I shall now have the shooprame bliss," said Mr. Macshane, with much
feeling, as he lifted Mrs. Hayes from the saddle---"the shooprame
bliss of intwining two harrts that are mead for one another. Ours,
my dear, is a dismal profession; but ah! don't moments like this
make aminds for years of pain? This way, my dear. Turn to your
right, then to your left--mind the stip--and the third door round
the corner."
All these precautions were attended to; and after giving his
concerted knock, Mr. Macshane was admitted into an apartment, which
he entered holding his gold pieces in the one hand, and a lady by
the other.
We shall not describe the meeting which took place between mother
and son. The old lady wept copiously; the young man was really glad
to see his relative, for he deemed that his troubles were over.
Mrs. Cat bit her lips, and stood aside, looking somewhat foolish;
Mr. Brock counted the money; and Mr. Macshane took a large dose of
strong waters, as a pleasing solace for his labours, dangers, and
fatigue.
When the maternal feelings were somewhat calmed, the old lady had
leisure to look about her, and really felt a kind of friendship and
goodwill for the company of thieves in which she found herself. It
seemed to her that they had conferred an actual favour on her, in
robbing her of twenty guineas, threatening her son's life, and
finally letting him go.
"Who is that droll old gentleman?" said she; and being told that it
was Captain Wood, she dropped him a curtsey, and said, with much
respect, "Captain, your very humble servant;" which compliment Mr.
Brock acknowledged by a gracious smile and bow. "And who is this
pretty young lady?" continued Mrs. Hayes.
"Why--hum--oh--mother, you must give her your blessing. She is Mrs.
John Hayes." And herewith Mr. Hayes brought forward his interesting
lady, to introduce her to his mamma.
The news did not at all please the old lady; who received Mrs.
Catherine's embrace with a very sour face indeed. However, the
mischief was done; and she was too glad to get back her son to be,
on such an occasion, very angry with him. So, after a proper
rebuke, she told Mrs. John Hayes that though she never approved of
her son's attachment, and thought he married below his condition,
yet as the evil was done, it was their duty to make the best of it;
and she, for her part, would receive her into her house, and make
her as comfortable there as she could.
"I wonder whether she has any more money in that house?" whispered
Mr. Sicklop to Mr. Redcap; who, with the landlady, had come to the
door of the room, and had been amusing themselves by the
contemplation of this sentimental scene.
"What a fool that wild Hirishman was not to bleed her for more!"
said the landlady; "but he's a poor ignorant Papist. I'm sure my
man" (this gentleman had been hanged), "wouldn't have come away with
such a beggarly sum."
"Suppose we have some more out of 'em?" said Mr. Redcap. "What
prevents us? We have got the old mare, and the colt too,--ha! ha!--
and the pair of 'em ought to be worth at least a hundred to us."
This conversation was carried on sotto voce; and I don't know
whether Mr. Brock had any notion of the plot which was arranged by
the three worthies. The landlady began it. "Which punch, madam,
will you take?" says she. "You must have something for the good of
the house, now you are in it."
"In coorse," said the Ensign.
"Certainly," said the other three. But the old lady said she was
anxious to leave the place; and putting down a crown-piece,
requested the hostess to treat the gentlemen in her absence.
"Good-bye, Captain," said the old lady.
"Ajew!" cried the Ensign, "and long life to you, my dear. You got
me out of a scrape at the justice's yonder; and, split me! but
Insign Macshane will remimber it as long as he lives."
And now Hayes and the two ladies made for the door; but the landlady
placed herself against it, and Mr. Sicklop said, "No, no, my pretty
madams, you ain't a-going off so cheap as that neither; you are not
going out for a beggarly twenty guineas, look you,--we must have
more."
Mr. Hayes starting back, and cursing his fate, fairly burst into
tears; the two women screamed; and Mr. Brock looked as if the
proposition both amused and had been expected by him: but not so
Ensign Macshane.
"Major!" said he, clawing fiercely hold of Brock's arms.
"Ensign," said Mr. Brock, smiling.
"Arr we, or arr we not, men of honour?"
"Oh, in coorse," said Brock, laughing, and using Macshane's
favourite expression.
"If we ARR men of honour, we are bound to stick to our word; and,