CHAPTER II

————One of his peepers was putOn the bankruptcy list, with his shop windows shut,While the other made nearly as tag-rag a show,All rimmed round with black like theCourierin woe.

One black patch decorated his rainbow-colored cheek; another adorned his chin; a grinder having been dislodged, his pipe took possession of the aperture. His toggery was that of a member of the prize-ring; what we now call a "belcher" bound his throat; a spottedfoglebandaged hisjobbernowl, and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned the occiput of the Magus. And though, at first sight, there would appear to be some incongruity in the association of such a battered character as the Upright Man with his smart companions, the reader's wonder will rapidly diminish, when he reflects that any distinguished P. C. man can ever find a ready passport to the most exclusive society. Viewed in this light, Zoroaster's familiarity with hisswellacquaintance occasioned no surprise to old Simon Carr, the bottle-nosed landlord of the Falstaff, who was a man of discernment in his way, and knew a thing or two. Despite such striking evidences to the contrary, the Magus was perfectly at his ease, and sacrificing as usual to the god of flame. His mithra, or pipe, the symbol of his faith, was zealously placed between his lips, and never did his Chaldean, Bactrian, Persian, Pamphylian, Proconnesian, or Babylonian namesake, whichever of the six was the true Zoroaster—videBayle,—respire more fervently at the altar of fire, than our Magus at the end of his enkindled tube. In his creed we believe Zoroaster was a dualist, and believed in the co-existence and mystical relation of the principles of good and ill; his pipe being his Yezdan, or benign influence; his empty pouch his Ahreman, or the devil. We shall not pauseto examine his tenets; we meddle with no man's religious opinions, and shall leave the Magus to the enjoyment of his own sentiments, be they what they may.

One guest alone remains, and him we shall briefly dismiss. The reader, we imagine, will scarcely need to be told who was the owner of those keen gray eyes; those exuberant red whiskers; that airy azure frock. It was

Our brave co-partner of the roads.Skilful surveyor of highways and hedges;

in a word—Dick Turpin!

Dick had been called upon to act as president of the board, and an excellent president he made, sedulously devoting himself to the due administration of the punch-bowl. Not a rummer was allowed to stand empty for an instant. Toast, sentiment, and anacreontic song, succeeded each other at speedy intervals; but there was no speechifying—no politics. He left church and state to take care of themselves. Whatever his politics might be, Dick never allowed them to interfere with his pleasures. His maxim was to make the most of the passing moment; thedum vivimus vivamuswas never out of his mind; a precautionary measure which we recommend to the adoption of all gentlemen of the like, or any other precarious profession.

Notwithstanding all Dick's efforts to promote conviviality, seconded by the excellence of the beverage itself, conversation, somehow or other, began to flag; from being general it became particular. Tom King, who was no punch-bibber, especially at that time of day, fell into a deep reverie; your gamesters often do so; while the Magus, who had smoked himself drowsy, was composing himself to a doze. Turpin seized this opportunity of addressing a few words on matters of business to Jerry Juniper, or, as he now chose to be called, Count Conyers.

"My dear count," said Dick, in a low and confidential tone, "you are aware that my errand to town is accomplished. I havesmashedLawyer Coates'sscreen, pocketed thedimmock—here 'tis," continued he, parenthetically, slapping his pockets,—"and done t'other trick in prime twig for Tom King. With a cool thousand in hand, I might, if I chose, rest awhile on my oars. But a quiet life don't suit me. I must be moving. So I shall start to Yorkshire to-night."

"Indeed!" said thesoi-disantcount, in a languid tone—"so soon?"

"I have nothing to detain me," replied Dick. "And, to tell you the truth, I want to see how matters stand with Sir Luke Rookwood. I should be sorry if he went to the wall for want of any assistance I can render him."

"True," returned the count; "one would regret such an occurrence, certainly. But I fear your assistance may arrive a little too late. He is pretty well done up, I should imagine, by this time."

"That remains to be seen," said Turpin. "His case is a bad one, to be sure, but I trust not utterly hopeless. With all his impetuosity and pride, I like the fellow, and will help him, if I can. It will be a difficult game to set him on his legs, but I think it may be done. That underground marriage was sheer madness, and turned out as ill as such a scheme might have been expected to do. Poor Sybil! if I could pipe an eye for anything, it should be for her. I can't get her out of my head. Give me a pinch of snuff. Such thoughts unman one. As to the priest, that's a totally different affair. If he strangled his daughter, old Alan did right to take the law into his own hands, and throttle him in return. I'd have done the same thing myself; and, being a proscribed Jesuit, returned, as I understand, without the king's license for so doing, why Father Checkley's murder—if it must be so called, I can't abide hard terms—won't lie very heavy at Alan's door. That, however, has nothing to do with Sir Luke. He was neitheraccessory nor principal. Still he will be in danger, at least from Lady Rookwood. The whole county of York, I make no doubt, is up in arms by this time."

"Then why go thither?" asked the count, somewhat ironically; "for my part, I've a strange fancy for keeping out of harm's way as long as possible."

"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to confront danger. Run away! pshaw! always meet your foe."

"True," replied the count, "half-way! but you go the whole distance. What prudent man would beard the lion in his den?"

"I never was a prudent man," rejoined Dick, smiling; "I have no superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I shall try to find out this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my purse, such as it is, and it is now better lined than usual; a hand free to act as he lists; and a head which, imprudent though it be, can often think better for others than for its own master."

"Vastly fine!" exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised sneer. "I hope you don't forget that the marriage certificate which you hold is perfectly valueless now. The estates, you are aware——"

"Are no longer Sir Luke's. I see what you are driving at, count," returned Dick, coldly. "But he will need it to establish his claim to the title, and he shall have it. While he was Sir Luke, with ten thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, and would have stood out for the last stiver. Now that he is one of 'us', a mere Knight of the Road, he shall have it and welcome."

"Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be inclined to treat," maliciously insinuated the count; "the title may be worth something to Ranulph."

"It is worth more to Luke; and if it werenot, he gets it. Are you satisfied?"

"Perfectly," replied the count, with affectedbonhomie; "and I will now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, from which you may gather something for your guidance in this matter; and if the word of a woman is at all to be trusted, though individually I cannot say I have much faith in it, Sir Luke's planetary hour is not yet completely overcast."

"That's exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow," said Turpin, eagerly. "You have already told me you were witness to a singular interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke after my departure from the priory. If I mistook you not, the whole business will hinge upon that. What occurred? Let me have every particular. The whole history and mystery."

"You shall have it with pleasure," said the count; "and I hope it may tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the scene of action at the priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood party masters of the field, I fled with the rest of the crew towards the rocks. There we held a council of war for a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; but this was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those who had wives, daughters, and sisters, should join them as speedily as possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened to have none of these attractive ties, and had only a troublesome mistress, who I thought could take care of herself, I did not care to follow them, but struck deeper into the wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I suppose, towards the cave."

"The cave!" cried Dick, rubbing his hands; "I delight in a cave. Tom King and I once had a cave of our own at Epping, and I'll have another one of these fine days. A cave is as proper to a high-tobyman as a castle to a baron. Pray go on."

"The cave I speak of," continued the count, "was seldom used, except upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop Hole Abbey crew. It was a sort of retiring den of our old lionessBarbara, and, like all belonging to her, respected by her dupes. However, the cave is a good cave for all that; is well concealed by brushwood, and comfortably lighted from a crevice in the rock above; it lies near the brink of the stream, amongst the woods just above the waterfall, and is somewhat difficult of approach."

"I know something of the situation," said Turpin.

"Well," returned the count, "not to lose time, into this den I crept, and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my surprise on discovering that it was already occupied, and that Sir Luke Rookwood, his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, and, worst of all, the very person I wished most to avoid, my old flame Handassah, constituted the party. Fortunately, they did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care not to introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment impracticable, and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot tell what had passed between the parties before my arrival, but I heard Miss Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to her mother. He seemed half inclined to comply with her entreaties; but old Alan shook his head. It was then Handassah put in a word; the minx was ever ready at that. 'Fear not,' said she, 'that she will wed Sir Ranulph. Deliver her to her friends, I beseech you, Sir Luke, and woo her honorably. She will accept you.' Sir Luke stared incredulously, and grim old Alan smiled. 'She has sworn to be yours,' continued Handassah; 'sworn it by every hope of heaven, and the oath has been sealed by blood—by Sybil's blood.'—'Does she speak the truth?' asked Sir Luke, trembling with agitation. Miss Mowbray answered not. 'You will not deny it, lady,' said Handassah. 'I heard that oath proposed. I saw it registered. You cannot deny it.'—'I do not,' replied Miss Mowbray, with much anguish of manner; 'if he claim me, I am his.'—'And he will claim you,' said Alan Rookwood, triumphantly. 'He has your oath, no matter how extorted—you must fulfil your vow.'—'I am prepared to do so,' said Eleanor.'But if you would not utterly destroy me, let this maid conduct me to my mother, to my friends.'—'To Ranulph?' asked Sir Luke, bitterly.—'No, no,' returned Miss Mowbray, in accents of deepest despair, 'to my mother—I wish not to behold him again.'—'Be it so,' cried Sir Luke; 'but remember, in love or hate, you are mine; I shall claim the fulfilment of your oath. Farewell. Handassah will lead you to your mother.' Miss Mowbray bowed her head, but returned no answer, while, followed by old Alan, Sir Luke departed from the cavern."

"Whither went they?" demanded Turpin.

"That I know not," replied Jerry. "I was about to follow, when I was prevented by the abrupt entrance of another party. Scarcely, I think, could the two Rookwoods have made good their retreat, when shouts were heard without, and young Ranulph and Major Mowbray forced their way, sword in hand, into the cave. Here was a situation—forme, I mean—to the young lady, I make no doubt, it was pleasant enough. But my neck was in jeopardy. However, you know I am not deficient in strength, and, upon the present occasion, I made the best use of the agility with which nature has endowed me. Amidst the joyous confusion—the sobbings, and embracings, and congratulations that ensued—I contrived, like a wild cat, to climb the rocky sides of the cave, and concealed myself behind a jutting fragment of stone. It was well I did so, for scarcely was I hidden, when in came old Barbara, followed by Mrs. Mowbray, and a dozen others."

"Barbara!" ejaculated Dick. "Was she a prisoner?"

"No," replied Jerry; "the old hell-cat is too deep for that. She had betrayed Sir Luke, and hoped they would seize him and his granddad. But the birds were flown."

"I'm glad she was baulked," said Dick. "Was any search made after them?"

"Can't say," replied Jerry. "I could only indistinctly catch the sounds of their voices from my lofty retreat. Beforethey left the cavern, I made out that Mrs. Mowbray resolved to go to Rookwood, and to take her daughter thither—a proceeding to which the latter demurred."

"To Rookwood," said Dick, musingly. "Will she keep her oath, I wonder?"

"That's more than I can say," said Jerry, sipping his punch. "'Tis a deceitful sex!"

"'Tis a deceitful sex, indeed," echoed Dick, tossing off a tumbler. "For one Sybil we meet with twenty Handassahs, eh, count?"

"Twenty!—say rather a hundred," replied Jerry. "'Tis a vile sex."

Grimm.How gloriously the sun sets to-night.Moor.When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought.Grimm.True, captain.The Robbers.

Grimm.How gloriously the sun sets to-night.

Moor.When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought.

Grimm.True, captain.

The Robbers.

"Peace, base calumniators," exclaimed Tom King, aroused from his toothpick reverie by these aspersions of the best part of creation. "Peace, I say. None shall dare abuse that dear devoted sex in the hearing of their champion, without pricking a lance with him in their behalf. What do you, either of you, who abuse woman in that wholesale style, know of her? Nothing—less than nothing; and yet you venture, upon your paltry experience, to lift up your voices and decry the sex. Now Idoknow her; and upon my own experience avouch, that, as a sex, woman, compared with man, is as an angel to a devil. As a sex, woman is faithful, loving, self-sacrificing.We'tis that make her otherwise;we, selfish, exacting, neglectful men; we teach her indifference, and then blame her aptscholarship. We spoil our own hand, and then blame the cards. No abuse of women in my hearing. Give me a glass of grog, Dick. 'The sex!—three times three!'—and here's a song for you into the bargain." Saying which, in a mellow, plaintive tone, Tom gave the following:

PLEDGE OF THE HIGHWAYMAN

Come, fill up a bumper to Eve's fairest daughters,Who have lavished their smiles on the brave and the free;Toast the sweethearts ofDudley,Hind,Wilmot, andWaters,[94]Whate'er their attraction, whate'er their degree.Pledge! pledge in a bumper, each kind-hearted maiden,Whose bright eyes were dimmed at the highwayman's fall;Who stood by the gallows with sorrow o'erladen,Bemoaning the fate of the gallantDu-Val!Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one,Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop;And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one,In terms of entreatythe questionwe pop.How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeterThan the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring;While thatone otherkiss has brought off arepeater,And a bead as afavor—thefavoritestring.With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle,With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts;Life's risk for ourmistress's praiseis a trifle;And each purse as atrophyourhomageattests.Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit,Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex;Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit,And, for fear of omission, we'll drink theWHOLE SEX.

Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one,Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop;And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one,In terms of entreatythe questionwe pop.How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeterThan the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring;While thatone otherkiss has brought off arepeater,And a bead as afavor—thefavoritestring.

With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle,With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts;Life's risk for ourmistress's praiseis a trifle;And each purse as atrophyourhomageattests.Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit,Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex;Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit,And, for fear of omission, we'll drink theWHOLE SEX.

"Well," replied Dick, replenishing King's rummer, while he laughed heartily at his ditty, "I shan't refuse your toast, though my heart don't respond to your sentiments. Ah, Tom! the sex you praise so much will, I fear, prove your undoing. Do as you please, but curse me if ever I pin mylife to a petticoat. I'd as soon think of neglecting the four cautions."

"The four cautions," said King; "what are they?"

"Did you never hear them?" replied Dick. "Attend, then, and be edified."

THE FOUR CAUTIONS

Pay attention to these cautions four,And through life you will need little more,Should you dole out your days to threescoreBeware of a pistol before!Before! before!Beware of a pistol before!And when backward his ears are inclined,And his tail with his ham is combined,Caution two you will bear in your mind:Beware of a prancer behind!Behind! behind!Beware of a prancer behind!Thirdly, when in the park you may ride,On your best bit of blood, sir, astride,Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride:Beware of a coach at the side!At the side! at the side!Beware of a coach at the side!Lastly, whether in purple or gray,Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay,Whate'er he may do or may say,Beware of a priest every way!Every way! every way!Beware of a priest every way!

Pay attention to these cautions four,And through life you will need little more,Should you dole out your days to threescoreBeware of a pistol before!Before! before!Beware of a pistol before!

And when backward his ears are inclined,And his tail with his ham is combined,Caution two you will bear in your mind:Beware of a prancer behind!Behind! behind!Beware of a prancer behind!

Thirdly, when in the park you may ride,On your best bit of blood, sir, astride,Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride:Beware of a coach at the side!At the side! at the side!Beware of a coach at the side!

Lastly, whether in purple or gray,Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay,Whate'er he may do or may say,Beware of a priest every way!Every way! every way!Beware of a priest every way!

"Well," said Tom King, "all you can sing or say don't alter my good opinion of the women. Not a secret have I from the girl of my heart. She could have sold me over andover again if she had chosen, but my sweet Sue is not the wench to do that."

"It is not too late," said Dick. "Your Delilah may yet hand you over to the Philistines."

"Then I shall die in a good cause," said King; "but

The Tyburn TreeHas no terrors for me,Let better men swing—I'm at liberty.

I shall never come to the scragging-post, unless you turn topsman, Dick Turpin. My nativity has been cast, and the stars have declared I am to die by the hand of my best friend—and that's you—eh? Dick?"

"It sounds like it," replied Turpin; "but I advise you not to become too intimate with Jack Ketch. He may prove your best friend, after all."

"Why, faith, that's true," replied King, laughing; "and if I must ride backwards up Holborn Hill, I'll do the thing in style, and honest Jack Ketch shall never want his dues. A man should always die game. We none of us know how soon our turn may come; but come when it will,Ishall never flinch from it.

As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest,So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best;He dies not as other men die, by degrees,But at once! without flinching—and quite at his ease!

as the song you are so fond of says. When I die it will not be of consumption. And if the surgeon's knife must come near me, it will be after death. There's some comfort in that reflection, at all events."

"True," replied Turpin, "and, with a little alteration, my song would suit you capitally:

There is not a king, should you search the world round,So blithe as the king's king,Tom King, to be found;Dear woman's his empire, each girl is his own,And he'd have a long reign if he'd let 'em alone.

Ha, ha!"

"Ha, ha!" laughed Tom. "And now, Dick, to change the subject. You are off, I understand, to Yorkshire to-night. 'Pon my soul, you are a wonderful fellow—analibipersonified!—here and everywhere at the same time—no wonder you are called the flying highwayman. To-day in town—to-morrow at York—the day after at Chester. The devil only knows where you will pitch your quarters a week hence. There are rumors of you in all counties at the same moment. This man swears you robbed him at Hounslow; that on Salisbury Plain; while another avers you monopolize Cheshire and Yorkshire, and that it isn't safe even tohuntwithout pops in your pocket. I heard some devilish good stories of you at D'Osyndar's t'other day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I was a brother blade."

"You flatter me," said Dick, smiling complacently; "but it's no merit of mine. Black Bess alone enables me to do it, and hers be the credit. Talking of being everywhere at the same time, you shall hear what she once did for me in Cheshire. Meantime, a glass to the best mare in England. You won't refuse that toast, Tom. Ah! if your mistress is only as true to you as my nag to me, you might set at naught the tightest hempen cravat that was ever twisted, and defy your best friend to hurt you. Black Bess! and God bless her! And now for the song." Saying which, with much emotion, Turpin chanted the following rhymes:

BLACK BESS

Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse,And laud her attractions in languishing verse;Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express,The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess.From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire,From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire;No peer of the realm better blood can possessThan flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess.Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand!That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand!Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tressMight adorn prouder beauties—though none like Black Bess.Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night,With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white;That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caressNow is she not beautiful?—bonny Black Bess!Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather,Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together;Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same messNo couple more constant than I and Black Bess.By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day,Her headlong career there is nothing can stay;She cares not for distance, she knows not distress:Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess?

Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse,And laud her attractions in languishing verse;Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express,The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess.

From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire,From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire;No peer of the realm better blood can possessThan flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess.

Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand!That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand!Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tressMight adorn prouder beauties—though none like Black Bess.

Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night,With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white;That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caressNow is she not beautiful?—bonny Black Bess!

Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather,Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together;Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same messNo couple more constant than I and Black Bess.

By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day,Her headlong career there is nothing can stay;She cares not for distance, she knows not distress:Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess?

"Egad! I should think not," exclaimed King; "you are as sentimental on the subject of your mare, as I am when I think of my darling Susan. But pardon my interruption. Pray proceed."

"Let me first clear my throat," returned Dick; "and now to resume:"

Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I poppedOn a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped;That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess—Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess.Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he,"You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;"I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress;I was sure of analibithen with Black Bess.The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,[95]Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen;I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess,That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess.Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode,As the crow wings her flight we selected our road;We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less—My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess.Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green,Taking excellent care that by all I am seen;Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address,But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess.I mention the hour—it was just about four—Play a rubber at bowls—think the danger is o'er;When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess,Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess.What matter details? Off with triumph I came;He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same;I had robbed him atfour!—while at fourtheyprofessI was quietly bowling—all thanks to Black Bess!Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo!To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true!For the sportsman unborn shall the memory blessOf the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess!

Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I poppedOn a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped;That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess—Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess.

Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he,"You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;"I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress;I was sure of analibithen with Black Bess.

The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,[95]Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen;I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess,That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess.

Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode,As the crow wings her flight we selected our road;We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less—My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess.

Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green,Taking excellent care that by all I am seen;Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address,But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess.

I mention the hour—it was just about four—Play a rubber at bowls—think the danger is o'er;When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess,Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess.

What matter details? Off with triumph I came;He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same;I had robbed him atfour!—while at fourtheyprofessI was quietly bowling—all thanks to Black Bess!

Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo!To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true!For the sportsman unborn shall the memory blessOf the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess!

Loud acclamations rewarded Dick's performance. Awakened from his doze, Zoroaster beat time to the melody, the only thing, Jerry said, he was capable ofbeatingin his present shattered condition. After some little persuasion, the Magus was prevailed upon to enliven the company with a strain, which he trolled forth after a maudlin manner:

THE DOUBLE CROSS

Though all of us have heard ofcrostfights,And certaingains, by certainlostfights,I rather fancies that it's news,How in a mill,bothmen shouldlose;For vere theoddsare thus madeeven,It plays the dickens with thesteven;[96]Besides, against all rule they're sinning,Vereneitherhasnochance of vinning.Ri, tol, lol, &c.Twomilling coves, each vide avake,Vere backed to fight for heavy stake:But in the mean time, so it vos,Bothkidsagreed toplay a cross;Bold came eachbuffer[97]to thescratch,To make it look atightish match;Theypeeled[98]in style, and bets vere making,'Tvos six to four, but few veretaking.Ri, tol, lol, &c.Quite cautiously the mill began,For neither knew the other's plan;Eachcull[99]completely in thedark,Of vot might be his neighbor'smark;Resolved hisfibbing[100]not to mind,Nor yet topay him back in kind;So on each otherkept they tout,[101]Andsparreda bit, anddodgedabout,Ri, tol, lol, &c.Vithmawleys[102]raised, Tom bent his back,As if toplanta heavy thwack:Vile Jem, with neat left-handedstopper,Straight threatened Tommy with atopper;'Tis all my eye! noclaretflows,Nofacerssound—no smashing blows—Five minutes pass, yet not ahit,How can it end, pals?—vait a bit.Ri, tol, lol, &c.Each cove vasteazedwith double duty,To please his backers, yetplay booty;[103]Ven, luckily for Jem, atellerVos planted right upon hissmeller;Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called,Seconds in vain thesecondsbawled;Themillis o'er, the crossercrost,The loser'svon, the vinner'slost!Ri, tol, lol, &c.

Twomilling coves, each vide avake,Vere backed to fight for heavy stake:But in the mean time, so it vos,Bothkidsagreed toplay a cross;Bold came eachbuffer[97]to thescratch,To make it look atightish match;Theypeeled[98]in style, and bets vere making,'Tvos six to four, but few veretaking.Ri, tol, lol, &c.

Quite cautiously the mill began,For neither knew the other's plan;Eachcull[99]completely in thedark,Of vot might be his neighbor'smark;Resolved hisfibbing[100]not to mind,Nor yet topay him back in kind;So on each otherkept they tout,[101]Andsparreda bit, anddodgedabout,Ri, tol, lol, &c.

Vithmawleys[102]raised, Tom bent his back,As if toplanta heavy thwack:Vile Jem, with neat left-handedstopper,Straight threatened Tommy with atopper;'Tis all my eye! noclaretflows,Nofacerssound—no smashing blows—Five minutes pass, yet not ahit,How can it end, pals?—vait a bit.Ri, tol, lol, &c.

Each cove vasteazedwith double duty,To please his backers, yetplay booty;[103]Ven, luckily for Jem, atellerVos planted right upon hissmeller;Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called,Seconds in vain thesecondsbawled;Themillis o'er, the crossercrost,The loser'svon, the vinner'slost!Ri, tol, lol, &c.

The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was circulated so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its contents.

"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would willingly order another whiff of punch, but I think we have all hadenough to satisfy us, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!"

"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus.

"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. You must make all due allowances—hem!" And, clearing his throat, he forthwith warbled

THE MODERN GREEK

(Nottranslated from the Romaic.)

Come, gemmen, name, and make your game,See, round the ball is spinning.Black, red, or blue, the colors view,Une,deux,cinque, 'tis beginning,Then make your game,The color name,While round the ball is spinning.This sleight of hand myflatshalllandWhilecoveredby mybonnet,[104]Iplantmy ball, and boldly call,Come make your game upon it!Thus rat-a-tat!I land my flat!'Tis black—not red—is winning.At gayroulettewas never metA lance like mine forbleeding!I'm ne'erat fault, at nothing halt,All otherlegspreceding.To all awake,I never shakeAmag[105]unless I nip it.Blind-hookeysees how well I squeezeThewell-packedcards in shuffling.Ecarté, whist, I never missed,A nick thebroads[106]while ruffling.Mogul or loo,The same I do,I am down to trumps as trippet!French hazardta'en,I nick the main,Was ne'er so prime acaster.Nocrabsfor me, I'm fly, d'ye see;The bank shall change its master.Sevenquatre,trois,The stakes are high!Tenmains! tenmainsare mine, pals!AtRouge et Noir, youhellite[107]choirI'll make no bones of stripping;One gloriouscoupfor me shalldo,While they may deal eachpipin.Trente-un-aprèsNe'er clogs my way;The game—the game's divine, pals.At billiards set, I make my bet,I'llscoreand win therub, pals;I miss mycue, myhazard, too,But yet my foe I'll drub, pals.Thatcannon-twist,I ne'er had missed,Unless to suit my views, pals.To make all right, the match looktight,This trick, you know, is done, pals;But now be gay, I'llshowmy play—Hurrah! the game is won, pals.No hand so fine,No wrist like mine,No odds I e'er refuse, pals.Then choose your game; whate'er you name,To me alike all offers;Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list,Replenish quick your coffers.Thus, rat-a-tat!Ilandmyflat!To every purse Ispeak, pals.Cramped boxes'ware, all's right and fair,Barred ballsIbarwhen goaded;The deuce an ace is out of place!The deuce a die isloaded!Then make your game,Your color name;Success attend theGreek, pals.

This sleight of hand myflatshalllandWhilecoveredby mybonnet,[104]Iplantmy ball, and boldly call,Come make your game upon it!Thus rat-a-tat!I land my flat!'Tis black—not red—is winning.

At gayroulettewas never metA lance like mine forbleeding!I'm ne'erat fault, at nothing halt,All otherlegspreceding.To all awake,I never shakeAmag[105]unless I nip it.

Blind-hookeysees how well I squeezeThewell-packedcards in shuffling.Ecarté, whist, I never missed,A nick thebroads[106]while ruffling.Mogul or loo,The same I do,I am down to trumps as trippet!

French hazardta'en,I nick the main,Was ne'er so prime acaster.Nocrabsfor me, I'm fly, d'ye see;The bank shall change its master.Sevenquatre,trois,The stakes are high!Tenmains! tenmainsare mine, pals!

AtRouge et Noir, youhellite[107]choirI'll make no bones of stripping;One gloriouscoupfor me shalldo,While they may deal eachpipin.Trente-un-aprèsNe'er clogs my way;The game—the game's divine, pals.

At billiards set, I make my bet,I'llscoreand win therub, pals;I miss mycue, myhazard, too,But yet my foe I'll drub, pals.Thatcannon-twist,I ne'er had missed,Unless to suit my views, pals.

To make all right, the match looktight,This trick, you know, is done, pals;But now be gay, I'llshowmy play—Hurrah! the game is won, pals.No hand so fine,No wrist like mine,No odds I e'er refuse, pals.

Then choose your game; whate'er you name,To me alike all offers;Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list,Replenish quick your coffers.Thus, rat-a-tat!Ilandmyflat!To every purse Ispeak, pals.

Cramped boxes'ware, all's right and fair,Barred ballsIbarwhen goaded;The deuce an ace is out of place!The deuce a die isloaded!Then make your game,Your color name;Success attend theGreek, pals.

"Bravo, Jerry—bravissimo!" chorused the party.

"And now, pals, farewell!—a long farewell!" said Dick, in a tone of theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the bestfriends must separate. We may soon meet again, or we now may part forever. We cannot command our luck; but we can make the best of the span allotted to us. You have your game to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the success he deserves."

"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that case, the chances would be against us."

"Well, then, the success we anticipate, if you prefer it," rejoined Dick. "I have only to observe one thing more, namely, that I must insist upon standing Sam upon the present occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a syllable. Landlord, I say—what oh!" continued Dick, stepping out of the arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the reckoning?—what's to pay, I say?"

"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the Falstaff.

"Order my horse—the black mare," added Dick.

"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with you a mile or two on the road, Dick; perhaps we may stumble upon something."

"Very likely."

"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if nothing happens."

"Agreed," responded Juniper.

"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" said the Magus, taking his everlasting pipe from his lips.

Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search of the implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered gently on the green.

It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, and glowed like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring elm. Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was touched by this glorious sunset, we pretend not to determine. Certain it was that a shade of inexpressible melancholy passed across his handsome countenance, as he gazed in the directionof Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west of the green upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire and lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But Dick noticed the passing emotion.

"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of manner—"are you not well, lad?"

"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what came over me, but looking at Harrow, I thought of my school days, and what I wasthen, and that bright prospect reminded me of my boyish hopes."

"Tut—tut," said Dick, "this is idle—you are a man now."

"I know I am," replied Tom, "but Ihavebeen a boy. Had I any faith in presentiments, I should say this is the last sunset I shall ever see."

"Here comes our host," said Dick, smiling. "I've no presentiment that this is the last bill I shall ever pay."

The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the man's conduct was singular, and awakened his suspicions.

"Are our horses ready?" asked Dick, quickly.

"They are, sir," said the landlord.

"Let us be gone," whispered Dick to King; "I don't like this fellow's manner. I thought I heard a carriage draw up at the inn door just now—there may be danger. Be fly!" added he to Jerry and the Magus. "Now, sir," said he to the landlord, "lead the way. Keep on the alert, Tom."

Dick's hint was not lost upon the two bowlers. They watched their comrades; and listened intently for any manifestation of alarm.

Back to Index Next