The Highwayman

by H. C. Bailey

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  IN THE TAP

  When Harry came back to his tavern, he was, you'll believe, not anxiousto be seen. He made one step from the coach to the door, scurried throughthe tap and upstairs. But the coming of a coach, and a coach of somesplendour, to the humble "Hand of Pork" had brought folks to the windows,and at the staircase window Harry bumped into his landlady, who gasped athim and began a "Save your lordship--" which ended in "God help us, it'sMr. Boyce."

  "Cook me a steak, Meg," Harry said, and went up the stairs threeat a time.

  She screamed after him "Ha' you seen your letter? There's a letter foryou in the tap."

  When Harry came down in his natural clothes, his best and one remainingsuit, and shouted for his supper she was quarrelling with the potman andsearching the shelves: "Meg, you villain--Meg, where's my steak?"

  "Lord love you, it's to the fire. I be looking for your letter. Ain't youhad it now? Days it's been here, I swear, and I saw it again only thismorning. By the black jar of usquebaugh it was, George, Od rot you."

  "Burn the letter," says Harry. "Go, bring me that steak, you slut."

  "Oh, God save you," Mrs. Meg cried in a pet, and so for Alison's letterthere was no more search. But indeed they would not have found it.

  Harry, if he ever thought about it, supposed it one of the grumblingscreeds of the bookseller for whom he scribbled and was glad to be rid ofit so easily. But he was in no case to think usefully of anything. Theamazement of his deliverance left him in a queer state of excitedlassitude. His nerves were all tremulous, he must needs do everythingvehemently, and felt the while as if he were being whirled along,passive, in the grip of some force outside himself One moment he wasdreaming himself capable of miracles, the next he was limp with wearinessand utterly impotent. And naturally, as soon as he had food inside him,weariness won and he was overwhelmed with great waves of languor. Hehardly dragged himself up to his attic before he was asleep.

  When he woke, the world was grey. He could survey himself cynically andwonder why he had been such a fool as to be in a fluster overnight.Faith, it was a grand exploit to dabble in conspiracies and come out withyour head still (for a while) on your shoulders. And that only by a turnof the luck, not any wit of his. Well! Neither winners nor losers wouldwant more of the blundering offices of Mr. Harry Boyce. He was back againafter his conversation with royalty--and royal breeches--a hack writerin his garret. And Alison as far away as ever. The wonderful Alison! Thebeauty of her flashed into his squalor. He felt her passionate life. Behanged to Alison! Let the hack writer get to his writing.

  All that day he strove with the fluency of Ovid, and to this hour hislabours, much flaccid verse, survive in a decent obscurity. It was latein the afternoon before he yielded to his growing disgust with thewhinings of the Tristia and sought relief in the open air.

  There was not much movement in the air of Long Acre. The day had beenwarm and languorous, with heavy showers steaming up again in the sun.Clouds were darkening across the twilight for more rain. Harry turned offto stretch his legs and find some freer air across the fields by theOxford road. But he was soon tired of them. The moist heat oppressed himstill and lowering darkness across the sky threatened a storm. He had nodesire for a wetting and an evening spent in the Pretender's clothes. Hemade for his tavern again by St. Martin's Lane and there came full uponhis father.

  Colonel Boyce touched his hat. Harry touched his, gave him the walland was going by. Then the Colonel laughed and caught his son's arm."Well met, Harry. I was coming to seek you." (It's not known whetherthat was true.)

  "And I, sir--I had no notion of seeking you."

  "Fie, don't be haughty. I bear no malice."

  "Egad, sir, that's kind in you," Harry sneered and pushed on.

  Colonel Boyce linked arms with him. "Why, what's the matter? Youwent off with the honours. Od's heart, you left us like a pair ofwhipped dogs."

  "You've to thank yourself for that, sir. Not me."

  "No, zounds, you did very well. I profess I was proud of you, Harry."

  "Then I have to envy you."

  Colonel Boyce laughed. "You play that game well, you know. But sure, youneed not play it all the time. No, but I never knew you could put on suchan air, Harry. You carried it off _a merveille_. My lord was awhipper-snapper to you. I allow you were a thought too free of your wit.It's a young man's fault. But in the main you were admirable."

  "You make me uneasy," Harry said. "I hoped that I had quarrelledwith you."

  "Oh Lud, Harry, why be so bitter? You have won, and sure you can affordto be civil. You have beat me and broken as pretty a plot as ever I knew.Why the devil should you snarl at me?"

  They were now turning into Long Acre and the coming storm had alreadybrought darkness. Harry stopped and freed himself from his father's arm."If you please, we'll have no more of this. I've no will to make an enemyof you. But if you seek to be friends, enemies we must be."

  "Why then? Harry, you are not so mad as to declare Jacobite now? It's alost cause, boy. There's not a thing in it but noble hole-and-corner workand not a guinea for your pains. You--"

  "Aye, now we have it!" Harry laughed. "You want to be in mysecrets. Sir, I'm obliged to you, and by your leave I'lldiscontinue your company."

  "I swear I wish you nothing but well," his father cried.

  "Dear sir, it's your good wishes that I dread. Pray cut me off without ablessing." He waved his hand to his father and strode off.

  For a moment Colonel Boyce looked after him--shrugged--went his way.

  So Harry walked alone upon his danger. He was near the tavern, he waspassing the end of a court. From the blackness there men rushed upon him.They managed it well. He was almost borne down by the first onset, buthearing something in time, seeing a glimmer of steel, he swung aside andstaggered back into the kennel slashing at them with his stick. They wereborne past him by their vehemence, but he carried no sword and theirswords were all about him. There was no hope. Two blades seared throughhis body and he fell.

  Colonel Boyce heard the clatter of ash and steel and turned at hisleisure to look. It was a moment before he made out Harry in the midstof the melee. Then he shouted of help and threats and ran on withready sword.

  He came too late. Harry was down and the dripping blades again at hisbody. Colonel Boyce had one fellow pinked before they were aware. Theothers bore upon him furiously and he was hard beset. He made a goodfight--it's the best thing in his life--he understood the sword, and theywere but hackers and hewers, they were in a mad hurry to finish him andhe had a perfect calm. But he was hampered and overborne. He would notgive ground for fear of more thrusts into the body at his feet, and theyclosed upon him and he could not break them.

  But now doors were opening and heads out of windows. From Harry's taverna man came at a run. As Colonel Boyce reeled back with a point caught inhis shoulder, gripping at the blade and thrusting at empty air, anothersword shot into the fight. One man went down upon Harry's body. The otherthree broke off and bolted down the court by which they had come.

  "_Canaille_," says the deliverer mildly, and plucked at the cloak of theman he had overthrown to wipe his sword. "Is that a friend of yoursunderneath, sir?"

  "Egad, they have tickled me," quoth Colonel Boyce, feeling at hisshoulder. "Pray, lend me your hand, sir."

  The deliverer looked him over without much sympathy: "And, egad, it's theancient Boyce," he said. "Oh, you'll survive, _mon vieux_. Who is this inthe mud?" He rolled his own victim, who groaned effusively, off Harry'sbody. "It's the boy, _mordieu_!" he cried.

  "In effect, Captain McBean, it's the boy," says Colonel Boyce, who wastrying to fix a pad of handkerchief on his own wound.

  McBean was down on his knees beside Harry, handling him gently. "Twicethrough the body, by God," says he. "What does this mean, Boyce? Damme,did you set your fellows on him?"

  "I am not an imbecile," Colonel Boyce said fiercely, stared at McBeanand laughed his contempt. Then with another manner, he tu
rned to thelittle crowd which was mustered: "Bring me a shutter, good lads. We've agentleman here much hurt. And some of you call the watch."

  McBean rose with bloody hands. "He has it I believe," he muttered."Hark in your ear, Boyce. If this is your work, I'll see you dead, byGod, I will."

  "Oh, damn your folly," says Colonel Boyce. "I struck in to help him. Iknow nothing who the knaves were. Your own tail, maybe."

  "Aye, aye," McBean looked at him queerly. "You would say that. Well,maybe this rogue can speak. He groans loud enough." Down he dropped againby his victim to cry out "Ben! You filthy rogue! Ben! Who a plague setyou to this business?"

  "Oh, you've found a friend, then?" Colonel Boyce sneered.

  The man who groaned was Harry's old friend, Ben the fat highwayman of theNorth Road. He rolled his eyes and made hoarse, grievous noises."Captain! Lord love you, captain, I didn't know you was in it. Oh, gad,and you ha' been the death o' me,'

  "I shall be if you lie," quoth McBean. "You rogue, who set you onMr. Boyce?"

  "How would I know he was a friend of yours? 'Twas a squire out ofHornsey. Squire Waverton of Tetherdown. Paying handsome to have himdowned. Oh, gad, captain, don't be hard. I ha' had no luck since youturned me off."

  Now the constables came running up and Colonel Boyce turned to them:"Secure that fellow. He and some others which have escaped stabbed myson who lies there. I am Colonel Boyce at the Blue House in St.Martin's Lane."

  The wretched Ben was haled off, groaning.

  Harry, lifeless still and bleeding, for all McBean's work, they liftedand carried away to his father's lodging.

  "What's your Waverton in this, sir?" says McBean.

  "The silly gentleman wanted Harry's wife. Egad, I never thought he had somuch gall in him."

  "I believe I'll be letting some of it out," says McBean.

  "You'll be pleased to leave that to me," quoth Colonel Boyce.

  McBean looked up at him oddly. "_Ventrebleu_, I wonder if I'll make youmy apologies. Have you bowels after all, sir?"

  "You're impertinent."

  "If you like." McBean cocked a wicked eye at him.

  "You concern yourself with the affairs of my family. I resent it,Captain McBean."

  "I believe you, _mon vieux_."

  "You have done me a notable service to-night and I am ready to forgetthe older injuries, your ill offices with my son. Let us call quits andpart, sir."

  "It won't do," said McBean with a grin.

  "What now, sir?"

  "I must know how Harry does and make sure that he has the best there isfor him. Surgery and friends--he will need both, sound and sure."

  "Be satisfied. I shall well provide him."

  Captain McBean shook his head.

  "Damn your infernal impudence." Colonel Boyce's temper gave way. "Od'slife, sir, this is infamous. You put upon me that I would mishandle myown son as he lies wounded and near death! I shall murder him, Isuppose. You had that against me before. Shall I rob him too, ortorture him maybe? This is raving. Carry it where you will, I'll noneof it. You may go."

  "Fie, what a heat!" says McBean placidly.

  They were now come to Colonel Boyce's lodging and he bade the bearerstake Harry up to his own room.

  "I sent a brisk lad for Rolfe," says McBean. "I could but stop the blood.He'll be here soon enough. It's but a step to Chancery Lane. He knowsmore of wounds than any man in the town."

  Colonel Boyce was for a moment speechless. "I shall send for Dr.Radcliffe and Sir Samuel Garth," says he majestically. "I wish you goodnight, sir."

  "I believe they have sense enough to do no harm," said McBean. "And now,Boyce, a word with you. Not in the street."

  "I don't desire it, sir," which McBean answered by passing in front ofhim into the house. Colonel Boyce came after, fuming. "Egad, sir, youpresume upon my wound," he cried. "You--"

  "Not I. Patch yourself up and I'll meet you at your convenience. There'smore urgent matter. When the boy comes to himself--if ever he comes tohimself--I must have speech of him."

  Colonel Boyce, who now completely commanded himself, had grown very pale."You have gone too far, Captain McBean. I desired to forget that I haveyou in my power. You force me to use it. If you thrust yourself upon me Ishall have you arrested as a traitor."

  McBean flushed. "Odso, then there is some villainy of yours in theaffair! Devil take you, I have a mind to finish you now, a wounded man asyou are." He had his hand on his sword.

  "Will you go, sir?"

  "Not I. If you ha' murdered him, you"--he slapped his sword homeagain--"no, _mordieu_, I can't touch you so. And you may meddle with meif you dare."

  "Oh, you have a great devotion to the boy," Colonel Boyce sneered withpallid lips. "You would have him deeper dipped in your mad treasons? Ithink you have done him harm enough." He struck his bell.

  "Harm?" McBean cried. "Is it harm? You that begat him for the heir toyour damned infamy? You that soured him with your husk of a soul and yourcold cunning? You that made a dirt-heap of his life to suit your muddlingneed? You--"

  But Colonel Boyce swayed in his seat and fell sideways fainting.

  A moment McBean surveyed him as if he thought this too a trick. Then,"_Ventrebleu_" says he, "here's Providence takes a hand," and hewhistled, and it is not to be denied that he looked covetously at thecabinet which held Colonel Boyce's papers. "The poor old devil," he saidwith a shrug. "He grows old, in fact. I suppose there's more blood in hisshirt now than his damned body," and he knelt down and began to feelabout the wound.

  He was at that when a woman announced the surgeon. "Mr. Rolfe? Never morewelcome. Here's old Colonel Boyce with a hole in his shoulder, and youngMr. Boyce with two holes through and through. A street brawl. Pray go up,sir, the lad's in bad case."

  "Faith, it's Captain McBean," says Rolfe, a brisk, big man, as they shookhands. "What have you to do with Noll Boyce?"

  "A friend of the family," says McBean. "Away with you to the lad;" and heknelt again and ministered to the unconscious Colonel. "A friend of thefamily, old gentleman," says he with a grin.