by J. C. Snaith
CHAPTER XVIII
CONTAINS A PANEGYRIC ON THE GENTLE PASSION
It was truly a novel kind of amusement to enjoy the patronage of such aclodhopper; but it was one infinitely rich in the comic. Thehighwayman fell in exactly with the spirit of this comedy. He seemedto take an almost diabolical pleasure in causing this pitiful specimenof human nature to reveal the weakness and sterility of his mind. AndI fear that this pleasure was communicated to Cynthia and myself.Could we have forgotten the persecution endured at the hands of thefellow that afternoon, we must have found it in our hearts to pity himin his fool's paradise. But with the sense of our late indignities yetabiding within us, we followed the course of the play with the keennessand zest of the leading actor in it. It was our revenge, and a veryample and satisfying one we felt it to be, although in the tameness ofprint it may not appear to possess the solid satisfaction of oneadministered with a cudgel or a pair of resolute fists.
When at last the squire proposed to depart, he vowed that never had hespent an evening with such profit and enjoyment. It far exceeded, hewas good enough to say, the memorable one he had once had the honour topass in the society of Colonel Musket of Barker's Hill. He swore hewould cherish the memory of it to his last day; and having humblythanked his grace for his condescension and his affability; and havinggiven a curt nod to Cynthia and myself, since the boon companion of aduke is surely entitled to dispense his patronage, our justice stumbledout into the rainy night, with more good wine in him than he deserved,and certainly more than he could decently carry.
"Ships, pegs, coos and 'osses," says the highwayman, breaking out intolaughter as soon as our guest had lurched into the rain. "Let a manlive with them long enough, and they shall reduce his wit andunderstanding to the level of their own. Was there ever such a pitifulcheese of a fellow in the world before? If it were not such a foulnight, and I lay less snug in my corner, I would go after him, drub himsoundly, and fling him into the kennel. But at least we have had anentertainment, and I have thought well to exact a ransom of him for hisown."
Here to our surprise our strange companion pulled forth a purse which afew minutes since had been the squire's. The justice had been seatednext the venerable duke, and had paid for the high privilege. Besides,is it not an axiom among the great that they never condescend unlessthey are in need of a service, or can get something by theircondescension? His grace's exaction was the latter. Neither Cynthianor I could find it in our hearts to blame the highwayman for histrick. Nay, I do not know that in one sense we were not secretly gladthat a tangible and material punishment had been inflicted upon thefellow. When the purse was opened it was found to contain the sum ofnineteen pounds and a few odd shillings. The highwayman, after acareful mental calculation, doled the money out into three heaps ofequal value, and having slipped one portion, some six pounds twelveshillings, into his fob, pushed the two remaining portions over to us,insisting that in this adventure it was share and share alike.
Of course we could not bring ourselves to accept of our friend'ssomewhat embarrassing generosity. But the sight of such a fortune topeople in our penurious state, who had already partaken of much morethan they could pay for, was temptation indeed. Although we refusedthe gifts with the same courtesy with which they were offered, I fearthat our eyes shone with a singular lust, and our minds rebelled as wedid so. The highwayman himself was astonished by our scruples.
"My dear friends," says he. "I confess I have never observed suchreluctancy in persons of your kidney before. You baffle me. I cannothold it to be generosity in you, since there can be little doubt thatWilliam Sadler makes a fatter living than you do with all your talents.Why then should you refuse a gift from a brother of your calling? Andit cannot be pride either, for if we come down to plain terms it is nota gift at all. By all those unwritten laws that obtain amongst thebrethren of our profession, you are each honourably entitled to take ashare with me. Come, my friends, pocket the affront and let no more besaid."
The highwayman's high sense of right and wrong in regard to those hewas pleased to call "the brethren of our profession" was reallytouching. Nothing in the first place could convince him that we werenot in that sense his brethren, and that we did not earn our livelihoodby his uncompromising methods. We had entered the inn by the aid offalse protestations; we had ordered a meal that he was sure we had nomeans of paying for; we had connived at the escape of a desperatemalefactor, and had committed a gross fraud on a justice of the peace;therefore he had every good reason to stand firm in his estimate of ourcharacter. To my rejoinder that we hoped he would not pursue thematter, as we were anything but what we appeared to be, and weredebarred by circumstances that had recently befallen us from publishingour true condition to him or to any one else, he replied with laughterof the most immoderate sort.
"Rat me," says he, "this is no new tale. I wonder how many times in atwelvemonth it does duty at Old Bailey! But I do not like to bebaffled by anybody, and I must say your behaviour is inexplicable. Itis Quixotic, my friends, it is Quixotic. I cannot possibly let itpass. I must beg you to accept these small monies as a token of mygratitude."
He had the devil for his advocate too. It truly was Quixotic. It waswealth untold to persons in our condition; persons condemned to blowthe flute from place to place for a livelihood. We were reminded ofnights in the rain; of empty bellies; of fainting limbs; of rags,misery and mud, and the hundred other ills that attend on a bitterpoverty. We had sevenpence in our pockets with which to discharge ascore that would be reckoned in pounds. What wonder that we felt ourresolution falter before the lure that was laid before us? Together,however, we prevailed where one of us singly might have given way.
The highwayman vented his perplexity in various ways. He put forth adozen theories that would cover our irreconcilable conduct. But all ofthem were equally wide of the mark. To all sources but the true onedid he trace our demeanour. That we were striving to be as honest asour circumstances would permit, never entered his head. And when atlast we gave him a cordial good-night prior to retiring to the chamberthat had been prepared for us, he was fain to acknowledge that he wasnever so completely beaten by anything as by our behaviour.
"Smart you are, the pair of you," says he, "there's no manner of use indenying that. But I'm damned if I can make head or tail of you. Neverheard of such a thing in my life as two pads on the road refusing theirshare of the booty. But I like you none the less. You are awell-favoured well-mannered pair, with rare good heads on yourshoulders. I'faith you are endowed with a most excellent presence.You are bound to succeed in the line you have adopted; but if you arenot above taking a piece of advice from one who hath had a pretty longapprenticeship on the road, you will dress a trifle better. Clothes gofor a great deal. A lord in rags counts for less than a postilion inruffles and a laced coat. You will not forget now; it is sure to meansuch and such a sum per annum to you. And harkee, here's a proposal.I've got such a fancy for you both, that if you like to take up withme, we will do the country in company and share the profits; and this Imay tell you is an offer not to be blinked at, when it is made byWilliam Sadler. Little madam there shall be the decoy, and you and I,my lad, shall lift the blunt and generally attend to the practicalmatters. Come now, I can't speak fairer; what do you say!"
Much to Mr. Sadler's disappointment, and I believe to his astonishmenttoo, I politely declined this liberal proposal. It was almostincredible to him that a gentleman of his eminence and success couldmeet with a refusal. It was like two green apprentices declining toenter into partnership with a master of the highest credit!
"I confess you pass me altogether," says he in despair.
The last glimpse we had of this strange, whimsical, and in a sensegifted man, was his sitting at the table, with his wig, his spectaclesand false whiskers removed, waving his good-night in the most cordialfashion. He was as handsome and intelligent a fellow as I everencountered; and I can readily believe what was asserted of him at
thetime of his hanging less than a year from this date, that he was acadet of a noble family. Certainly in his gaiety, generosity, andgallant good humour, he was the very type of man to win the great fameof the public that I believe was his. Strange as it may appear, therewas not one trace of vulgarity that I could discern in him; and leavinghis peculiar ideas in regard to _meum_ and _tuum_ out of the question,in all other particulars he was a charming gentleman. And if I am oneday burnt for the heresy, I shall be ever the first to admit that in myshort acquaintance of this wicked rogue that so richly came to behanged on the Tree, I discovered better parts, a more chivalrous heart,and vastly more liberal talents than in half the persons of highconsideration and great place, whose intimacy it has been my misfortuneto submit to for a longer period.
As for Cynthia, the first thing she did in the privacy of our chamberwas to burst into tears.
"Oh," she sobbed, "to think that a man like that should be such avillain. Oh, I am sure I cannot believe it of him."
"Then why weep for him?" says I. "But what a pity it is that thesevillains are so delectable. Even a man like your husband if he getshis deserts will come to be hanged. Can you tell me, my dear, why itis that virtue never walks in these radiant colours? Can it be thatyou strait-laced madams secretly lean to the wicked?"
Poor Cynthia sobbed louder than ever.
"Oh, I cannot, I will not believe it of such a dear fine gentleman!"says she.
The next morning found us heavy of heart. In what manner we could meetthe landlord's charges we did not know. Although we were both tooproud to say so, I am sure we should have been greatly thankful couldwe have had our share of the highwayman's booty to comfort us. Afterall it was a queer kind of scruple that preferred to rob the innkeeperrather than the squire. For it was plain that he, poor fellow, must gounpaid. Honesty, I take it, is largely a question of terms; and why weshould hold it to be more venial to rob the one than the other I cannottell. We breakfasted over the hard problem of what to do. We had noother course, we decided, than to persevere in the original fiction ofour misfortunes on the road at the hands of a highwayman, and defer thesettlement of the landlord's account against the time when our affairshad assumed a more prosperous shape.
As it happened, our misgivings and searchings of conscience were invain. The highwayman, who had ridden away in the small hours of themorning, had insisted unknown to us in giving at least some token ofhis gratitude. He had discharged our score and his own in a handsomemanner, the innkeeper said. Perchance it was he held that our hostmerited some sort of reward for his behaviour too; and he doubtlessheld in the shrewd opinion he had formed of our condition, that it waslittle enough he was likely to receive at our hands.
In this fortunate manner we were able to go forth into the world again.Our hunger and weariness had been amply refreshed and our debts paid.We did not pause to consider that these happy contingencies had beenbrought about by the very means that we had so loftily disdained. Itwas the squire's purse after all that had paid our charges. Honesty,as I have said, is largely a question of terms.
To the downpour of the night had succeeded a sullen morning. Thelowering sky promised more misery to follow. The air was wet withmists; the trees dripped incessantly; every blade of grass shone withthe dankness that clung to it, and the state of the deep-rutted, rude,uneven roads was terrible. But even all these things together, and thefact that we had to plough our way, step by step, slowly through seasof mud could not entirely depress our spirits. We felt ourselves inthe society of one another, to be in spite of everything, invincible inour common courage, unconquerable in our common resolution. The onesustained the other in these adventures.
"My prettiness," says I, "it is under embarrassing conditions such asthese that we should endeavour to sustain ourselves with a few tender,amorous passages of love. I think I will pay you a compliment or twoupon your beauty, if you will give me but a minute's time in which torack my mind to find them."
"For your pretty speeches to be sincere, sir," says Cynthia, "theyshould be quite spontaneous."
"Here is one," says I. "The sunshine of your countenance lights up themorning's gloom."
"A common enough figure, I confess," says she, "which a hundred poetshave better exprest."
"Here is another, then," says I, undaunted. "The solace of yourcompanionship sweetens the bitter miles."
"Nay," says she, "I think no better of that trope than the first. Itwants a poet to give an originality, a point and grace, to things ofthis sort."
"But every lover is a poet," says I triumphantly.
"I am deluded then," says Cynthia, "for if your love is measured byyour poetry I am like to die of a broken heart. But after all, thatlast glib phrase of yours is but a poor sort of speech for a man tomake to his mistress. A poet, as all the world knows, is but anembellisher of common things."
"A poet is more than that," says I. "A thousand times more. A poetis---- A poet is----"
"A poet is?" says Cynthia archly.
"The human mind cannot express what a poet is," says I. "He is all,and he is nothing. He weaves a sovereign spell about material things.He can put a new glamour in the stars, although he cannot hold a candleto the sun. He is the airy nothing that can reveal the face of God tosimple men."
"But what hath all this to do with Love?" says Cynthia. "And I confessI never suspected this phase to your character. I always held you fora common four-square kind of a fellow enough, by no means given tothese sudden heats and violences, these sudden whimsies andnonsensicals."
"No more did I," says I ruefully. "But it is so like this wretchedpassion to take us in our weakest part, which in me, as you are everthe first to remind me, is the head."
"It is not such a wretched passion neither," says Cynthia, "if it isbut left to itself. It is these low poets and people that debase it.Love is the noblest thing in the world, until your puny twopenny poetsand the like sing of it, and prate of it, and write an advertisement ofit, that they may earn enough to spend at the nearest tavern."
"Alas! mistress," says I, "you are too severe on the muse. There havebeen elegies composed to Love that could dignify even that sacredpassion."
"All of which the sacred passion could very well have done without,"says my didactic miss. "There is not a painter in the world, be henever so cunning, that can put a new colour in the sunset, nor is therean author of them all that can add a new rapture to a kiss."
"Body o' me," says I, "you are not a little right there."
If there is any vindication needed of the sex's incontestableprerogative to enjoy the last word in any argument, be it of the natureof metaphysics, reason or common practice, here is it to be found. Westopped in the middle of the road and concluded our discourse with achaste salute. And I think there was a strain of poetry in us both aswe did so. The weeping heavens smiled upon us; all the wet verdure ofthe spring was a sparkling face that laughed and greeted us. We wentalong refreshed and more cheerful of heart.
Yet it was a toilsome journey. The mud clogged our feet, the damppervaded our clothes, and our unaccustomed fatigues of the last fewdays were beginning to tell upon us terribly. Never in all our liveshad we given our feet such exercise. We had not walked much beyond anhour this morning before I noticed with something of a sinking heartthat poor Cynthia was limping. At first these symptoms were hardly tobe discerned, and when I taxed her with them, she denied them stoutly.But too soon were they revealed beyond a doubt. It was getting towardsnoon before my proud little miss would in any wise admit this to be thecase, though. By then, however, she was so footsore that she couldscarce drag one foot behind the other. Chancing to pass near ahandrail bridge a little later, that spanned a small clear streamrunning over long floating moss and stones, nothing would content mebut she should go and sit upon it, take off her shoes and stockings,and bathe her bruised feet by dangling them over the side. A littlecottage nestling close at hand, fenced with box in front andapple-trees behind, thithe
r I repaired to beg clean linen rags to wrapthem in.
The cottage door was opened at my knock by a smiling, buxom housewife,who stood out upon a background of crowing babes. No sooner had I mademy request than with cheerful energy, says she:
"Oh yes, sir, to be sure I can," and feeling that we were like to finda true friend in her, no sooner had I explained the occasion for itthan she proved a friend indeed. Having procured these requisites witha bustling promptitude, she carried them to Cynthia and found herseated on the bridge as I had left her, bathing her toes in the coolsweetness of the stream. With many a "poor lamb!" and many a "deary,deary me!" she played the good Samaritan to my unlucky little one. Shedried them, comforted them, and bound them up with all the honest graceof her great good nature. Never did I see a woman so brisk andmotherly, and certainly never one so overflowing with true charity.When she had fulfilled her tender offices, and having kissed poorCynthia on both cheeks in a most resounding manner, "because she wassuch a little beauty," she had us both go back with her to the cottage,that we might eat a bowl of curds and whey in the arbour cut in thelaurel bushes, next the well, at the bottom of the garden.
Looking back on the scenes of our itinerary, this bustling, kindlyhousewife makes the fairest picture of them all. Can the great whodwell in palaces conceive the degree of simple happiness it is in thepower of such a creature to bestow? Whenever subsequently, in an hourof gloom, I may have been led to doubt the essential goodness that liesburied in the hearts of our human kind, I insensibly recall the conductof this honest woman on that wet spring morning when we came to herdoor afflicted of mind and body.
By gentle walking we were able to make many more miles that day. But ashadow had come over us. We had no longer the joyous intrepidity withwhich we had set out less than a week ago. A foreboding had come uponus. We could not hope to go much farther by our present mode. Mylittle companion, strive as she might to conceal the dire fact, wasrapidly being overcome. Her boots were wearing thin, she was alreadysuffering much pain, and there was the sum of sevenpence left to us bywhich she could obtain her ease. We had not the heart to endeavour toincrease it by blowing further on the flute. Besides, if the truth ofthat matter must be told, the stocks had given us a particular distastefor the gentle instrument. As the slow, cloud-laden hours passed tothe occasional accompaniment of rain, with no glint of sunshine torelieve their drab monotony, it called for all the courage of which wehad made a boast that morning to keep us from repining. The nearer weapproached the evening the greater was our gloom. There was theeternal problem of food and shelter to be solved. The previous nightour audacity had solved it for us. But in our present state we bothfelt quite incapable of furnishing the necessary spirit and effronteryfor a repetition of that bold trick. Alas! our one desire was to bewafted by some magic into warmth and plenty that we might sup and fallasleep.
We spent our last pence at a hedge inn on our habitual repast of breadand cheese and ale. But the longer we lingered, the cheerless,wretched place appeared to heighten our dejection, so that we hailedthe wet countryside as a relief when we walked out again upon it. ButI cannot tell you how we dreaded the coming of night. The barrencharacter of the landscape, and the few people and the fewerhabitations that we came upon probably increased the depression of ourspirits. Indeed, towards evening, the only human being that weencountered in several miles was a travelling tinker singing on astile, and I think we could have wished to have been spared thismeeting. In our forlorn state we regarded such an irresponsible gaietyin the light of a personal affront. But the dirty rogue had such acheerful, jolly look that I was fain to accost him with my curiosity.
"I beg your pardon, sir," says I, "but why do you uplift your soul inmerriment on such a dismal afternoon?"
The tinker looked at me suspiciously, and then at his bundle reposingat his feet. He evidently speculated as to what designs I could haveupon it.
"It is a good world, my lad, that is why I sing," says he, "and you'dbe singing too, I fancy, if this was your first day out o' jail."
However that might be I am sure we both envied the tinker his frame ofmind. Our own was desperate indeed. There was nothing for it but topush on relentlessly, and to hope against hope for some happy chance.We were both utterly wearied and dispirited by this; no houses werenear at hand; and the night was closing in. We were consoled in aslight degree with the thought that we were on a high road and that ashelter of one sort or another should not be far to seek. By whatmeans we should be able to avail ourselves of it in our destitute statewas another question.
In the very height of our distresses we suddenly came upon a waysideinn, and a scene of a violent and singular character was being enactedon the threshold. Two persons, a man and a woman of mean appearance,had evidently just been ejected from it, since they stood resentfullyin the middle of the road with divers bundles containing their goodsand chattels scattered around them. The landlord stood at the inndoor, shaking his fist and declaiming his great indignation, whilst hiswife, standing in a haven of security behind him, was giving rein toher own sentiments with neither hesitation nor uncertainty.