CHAPTER VIII
I AM LEFT FORLORN
At the extreme end of a narrow and somewhat dingy passage we came on adoor, from behind which proceeded a din of voices in loudconfabulation, together with much jingling of glasses, so that Ijudged the worthies we sought were engaged upon what I believe isknown as "making a night of it."
This hoarse babel ended suddenly as, opening the door, Anthony strodein, his whole person and attitude suggestive of that air I havealready mentioned as one of polite ferocity.
"Aha!" said he, feet wide-planted, Captain Danby's stout cane bendingin his powerful hands. "How far is it to Sevenoaks, pray?"
"Better nor seven mile!" answered the surly landlord, setting down hisspirit-glass.
"Ah, all o' that!" nodded the ostler over his tankard.
"Every bit!" added the postboy.
"An' 'oo might you be?" demanded an individual in top-boots, a largeman chiefly remarkable for a pair of fierce, black whiskers and atruculent eye.
"Seven miles!" exclaimed Anthony, unheeding his interrupter. "I hadfeared it shorter--oh, excellent! Now my lads, we require thechaise--up with you, set to the horses and be ready to start in tenminutes at most. Come--bustle!"
"Lord!" exclaimed Black Whiskers, "You'd think 'e was a nearl or ajook to 'ear un--'oo is 'e?"
"Why, it's 'im as we was tellin' you of, Mr. Vokes!" quoth thelandlord.
"'Is werry own selluf!" nodded the postboy.
"The desp'rit cove as gie me the one-er!" added the ostler.
"Aye, Mr. Vokes," continued the landlord with unction, "this is 'im ascommitted the 'ssault an' battery on 'is betters."
"Oh, is it?" said Mr. Vokes, nodding in highly menacing fashion.
"Ah!" nodded the landlord. "An' then goes for to make us go for tonigh drownd the pore, unfort'nate genelman in my own 'oss-trough, an''im now a-sneezin' an' a-groanin' an' a-swearin' in bed fit to breakyour 'eart. 'Ere be the desp'rit rogue as done the deed!"
"Oh, is it!" repeated Black Whiskers, scowling. "Why, very well,then--'ere's to show 'im 'oo's 'oo!" and he reached for a heavyriding-whip that lay on the floor beside him.
"Sit still, Mr. Vokes--remain seated, lest I pink you!" commandedAnthony, saluting him with the Captain's cane as if it had been asword. The man Vokes stared, swore and rose up, whip in hand,whereupon Anthony lunged gracefully, thrusting the cane so extremelyaccurately into the middle of Mr. Vokes' waistcoat that he doubled upwith marked suddenness and fell back helpless in his chair, groaningand gasping painfully.
"Now, my lads," quoth Anthony cheerily, as he picked up the whip, "theword is 'horses'! Come, bustle now!" and he cracked the whip like apistol shot.
"Lord love me!" exclaimed the landlord, retreating precipitately. "Inever see no thin' like this 'ere--no, never!"
"That'll do, my lad, that'll do!" said Anthony, flourishing the whip."In six minutes or so I expect the chaise at the door."
"But I can't drive a hoss wot's cast a shoe, can I, sir?" whined thepostillion, his eye on the whip.
"You can get another, my lad."
"Theer ain't no other 'oss nowhere, except Mr. Vokes' mare!" quoth theostler.
"Then of course Mr. Vokes will be glad to lend us his mare, I'm sure."
But here Black Whiskers found voice and breath for a very decidednegative, with divers gasping allusions to Anthony's eyes and limbs.Hereupon Anthony betook him again to his posture of _escrime_,the cane-point levelled threateningly within a foot of Mr. Vokes'already outraged person.
"Fellow," said he, "next time address me as 'sir'--and say 'yes'!"
For a moment the flinching Mr. Yokes paused to eye the levelled cane,the ready hand and fierce grey eyes behind it, then spoke the desiredwords in voice scarcely audible by reason of pain and passion; butthey sufficed, the cane was lowered, the whip cracked, and forthwithinto the yard filed landlord, ostler and postillion with us at theirheels. And here by aid of flickering lanthorns, amid wind and rain,the horses were harnessed and put to, the chaise brought to the doorwhere stood one cloaked and hooded who, with Anthony's readyassistance, climbed nimbly into the chaise.
"Anthony--your pistol!" and I handed it to him. "Take care," said I,as he thrust it carelessly into his bosom.
"Tush!" he laughed, "had it been loaded I should have blown out whatbrains I have days ago!"
"Good-bye, Anthony!" said I, and, or ever he could prevent, thrust aguinea into his hand. For a moment I thought he would toss it in myface, then he thrust it into his pocket.
"Egad, Perry!" said he, seizing my hand in his vital clasp. "You are adevilish--likeable fellow and--d'ye see--what I mean is--oh, dammit!Look for me at Tonbridge." Having said which, he sprang down thesteps, entered the chaise and banged to the door. But now at the openwindow was a lovely face. "Good-bye--Peregrine," and with the word shereached out her hand to me.
"Good-bye," said I.
"Barbara," she suggested.
"Good-bye, Barbara!" said I, and lifted the hand to my lips.
"At Tonbridge, Perry!" repeated Anthony.
"At Tonbridge!" said I, whereupon the postillion vituperated the rainand wind, chirruped to his horses, and the chaise rolled away into thetempestuous dark.
For them, rain and wind and darkness, for me such comfort as the innafforded, but of the three it was I who was desolate and forlorn.
Peregrine's Progress Page 10