The Toll-Gate

by Джорджетт Хейер

  “Never saw a cove so goshswoggled!” corroborated Chirk.

  “Keep that long tongue of yours still, Jerry!” commanded the Captain. “Of course I see what must have happened! Stornaway was such a ninnyhammer that he made Coate suspicious that he had discovered the truth. When Coate found that he had left the house mysteriously, he came to look for him here, because it was Stornaway who told him about this cavern in the first place!”

  “That,” said Stogumber bitterly, “is the only true thing you’ve said yet, Capting Staple!”

  “If ever I seen such a death’s head on a mopstick!” exclaimed the irrepressible Chirk. “Nothing don’t please him!”

  “Very well,” said the Captain, getting up. “If only the truth will do for you, let’s tell the truth—all of it! You sat at your ease in the Blue Boar while I baited a trap for Coate; you didn’t call up your patrol because I told you not to; you joined hands with a bridle-cull, and let him persuade you not to enter the cavern until I had done what I had to there; you—”

  “That’ll do!” said Stogumber. “There’s ways and ways of telling the truth! And while you’re reckoning up the things I done, don’t you go forgetting who broke Coate’s neck, big ’un, else I’d have to remind you!”

  “Oh, I won’t forget!” promised the Captain. “I was alone and unarmed—my reserves not having come up!—and I had a desperate fight with a man who held a loaded pistol. If, when we fell together on this rock-floor, his neck was broken, I fancy no one will blame me for it!”

  A silence fell. Chirk coughed deprecatingly. “I ain’t never been one for throwing a rub in the way, like this swell-trap we’ve got here, Soldier, but I’m bound to say I ain’t so very anxious you and him should blab all the truth!”

  The Captain laughed. “Nor I, Jerry! Come, Stogumber, what’s to be gained by blackening that wretched creature’s name? You found no proof that he was a party to these crimes, and although you say he would have shot me in the back you don’t know that either, for you were not here. He’s no longer alive to answer for himself: let him rest!”

  Stogumber looked up at him under lowering brows. “You’d go into the witness-box and swear you knew him for an honest man, wouldn’t you, Capting Staple?” he growled. “On your oath, you would, I don’t doubt!”

  “Stogumber, what could I do but that? His cousin is my wife!”

  Chirk gave a long whistle. “So-ho! To be sure, you been smelling of April and May ever since I met you, but I never suspicioned you was married!”

  “Two nights ago, in the Squire’s presence. He was dying, and I gave him my word that I would keep his name clean.”

  Another silence fell. “If we are going to move Coate’s body,” suddenly said Stogumber, with some violence, “why don’t we do it, ’stead of standing gabbing? As for you, rank-rider, you light the way, and bring the gun along, which he dropped! And if I have any more sauce from you, you’ll be sorry!”

  Twenty minutes later, they came out of the cavern, and stood for a few minutes, dazzled by the sunlight. Chirk, blowing on his numbed fingers, said caustically: “There’s coves as pays down their dust to go into places like that! It ain’t going to break my heart if I never see another!”

  “Nor mine,” agreed Stogumber. “Fair blue-devilled, I was, and I don’t mind owning it. We better close it up again, till I come back, with my patrol.”

  This done, the Captain left the Runner to tie the fence to the staples again, and went with Chirk to fetch Mollie and the landlord’s cob from where they had been tethered round the spur of the hill. As soon as he was out of earshot of Stogumber, the Captain said sternly: “Chirk, how dared you do that?”

  Chirk did not pretend to misunderstand him. He merely said: “You’d have had your toes cocked up now if I hadn’t, Soldier.”

  “Humdudgeon! I daresay he would have been glad enough to have shot me, could he but have summoned up the resolution, but whether he could have kept his hand steady is another matter! Good God, he was as scared as a rabbit! You had only to shout to him to drop his pistol, and he would have done it—and himself with it, in a swoon of terror! You knew that!”

  “If you don’t beat the Dutch!” remarked Chirk. “I didn’t see you with your fambles round Coate’s squeeze, did I? I didn’t hear the crack of his neck breaking, did I? Oh, no! out of course I didn’t!”

  “Yes, I killed Coate, and without compunction!” the Captain said. “There were three wretched fellows who owed their deaths to him, and an old man whose last days on earth were made hideous by his plots! But Stornaway was no more than a tool in his hands, and that you knew!”

  “Well,” said Chirk, quite unperturbed by this severity, “seeing as you was aiming to marry Miss Nell, Soldier, it seemed to me as you’d be a deal better off without a Queer Nabs like him to call cousins with you!”

  “I shall be, of course,” admitted the Captain frankly. “I daresay I should have been obliged, for my wife’s sake, to have extricated him a good few times from the consequences of his own folly. But you have made me feel that I’ve betrayed the Squire’s trust, Jerry, and I don’t like it!”

  “You’ve got no call to be hipped over that,” Chirk told him. “By what Rose has told me, Squire would have said I done right. He wouldn’t ha’ cared how soon his precious grandson was booked, so long as he didn’t kick up no nasty dust!”

  The Captain, thinking of the Squire, smiled reluctantly. “I suppose he wouldn’t.”

  “Besides,” said Chirk, stripping his greatcoat from Mollie’s back, and shrugging himself into it, “while we was about it, it would have been a crying shame not to have made a regular sweep of it! Don’t you go napping your bib over that young weasel, Soldier, because the only difference twixt him and Coate was that he was hen-hearted, and Coate weren’t!” He hoisted himself into the saddle. “I daresay the cob won’t founder under you, if you throw your leg acrost him,” he observed, handing this sturdy animal’s bridle to John. “ ’Least, not before we get back to the Redbreast, though I wouldn’t ask him to carry you further, me being a merciful man.”

  “Did you have any trouble with Stogumber?” asked John, mounting the cob.

  “Not to speak of, I didn’t, excepting how to get him over a hedge, him not being in the habit of it. If it’s all one to you, Soldier, we’ll take him back by way of the road.” He said over his shoulder, as the mare moved forward: “He ain’t a bad cove—for a trap! Him and me got talking while we was waiting for you and Stornaway, and I’m bound to say he’s got a lot of useful ideas in his noddle. We got it settled all right and tight how I come to be mixed up in this business, and a rare Banbury story it is! ’Cos the Redbreast don’t want it known what my lay is, and no more I don’t neither.” He looked over his shoulder again. “Lordy, to think I’ll be setting up respectable, with Rose, before the cat can lick her ear! When the Redbreast told me how much gelt them chubs in Lunnon will pay down for getting the chests back, it made me feel pretty near as queer as Dick’s hatband, ’cos I wasn’t expecting it, nothing like it, I wasn’t! Seems they pays ten percent, which is very handsome of ’em, I will say. And I owes it all to you, Soldier, which is why I sent Stornaway to roost, not being able to think of nothing else I could do for you!”

  This made John laugh; and he was still chuckling when they rejoined Stogumber by the cavern-mouth. That gentleman, receiving his mount from him, said austerely that he was happy to see him in such high gig, and had little doubt that he would find something to amuse him, even if he were on his way to the gallows. “Which, from what I seen of you, is where you’ll find yourself one of these days!” he added, climbing laboriously into the saddle, and groping for his stirrups. “And I ain’t going to pull this nag over any more banks, so mark that!”

  “No, no, we’ll follow the road!” John said soothingly. “Let’s be off! I don’t know for how long we were in the cavern, but it seems an age since I entered it. I left Ben to mind the gate, too, so I daresay I am quite in his black books by
this time.”

  But when they came within sight of the toll-gate there was no sign of Ben. An animated group was gathered about the immaculate person of Mr. Babbacombe, and it included, besides a spare man in his Sunday blacks, a burly farmer, driving a cow with her calf; a groom in charge of a gig; Rose Durward; and Nell. Most of these persons appeared to be engaged in acrimonious discussion, but the approach, beyond the gate, of a cavalcade, consisting of three riders and two led horses, caused them to abate their strife. They all turned to see who could be coming to the pike in such force.

  “What the devil’s the matter?” demanded the Captain, dismounting, and pulling open the gate to allow Stogumber and Chirk, who was leading Stornaway’s horse, to pass.

  An outraged cry broke from the man in black. “Just as I thought! How dare you open that gate, fellow? How dare you, I say?”

  “Why shouldn’t I open the gate?” asked John. “I’m it’s keeper!”

  “Oh, no, you are not!” declared the spare man furiously. “You’re an impostor and a rascal! And as for that impudent counter-coxcomb there, it’s very plain to me that he’s a court-card, or worse!”

  “Then let me tell you, you nasty, distempered old freak,” struck in Rose, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed, “that it’s very plain to me that you’re a vulgar, uncivil make-bait, and if no one else will slap your Friday-face for you, I will!”

  “Oh, Rose, pray hush!” begged Nell, between amusement and dismay. “For heaven’s sake, John—!”

  “I’ll slap his face for you, Miss Durward, and glad to do it!” offered the farmer. “What call has he to come here, poking his Malmsey-nose into what ain’t none of his business? Threepence for every head of horned cattle! that’s what it says on the board, and threepence I paid the gentleman! What’s more, I’ll pay him threepence more if there’s any one of you can find a horn on the calf’s head!”

  “Damn you, Jack, I knew I should catch cold if I let you bamboozle me into staying here!” said the harassed Mr. Babbacombe. “Where the devil have you been? No, never mind telling me! What ought this fellow to be charged for his calf? I’ll be hanged if I know! You can’t get away from it: not a sign of a horn on its head!”

  “Quibbling! Mere quibbling!” cried the spare man. “You’re in a plot to cheat the tolls! Don’t tell me!”

  “I do believe as he’s an Informer!” said the farmer, staring very hard at the spare man. “Let’s take and pitch him in Bob Huggate’s duck-pond, gov’nor!”

  At this point, the Captain, who had so far failed to make himself heard, intervened. Pushing the gate wider, he addressed himself to the farmer. “You be off, with your horned cattle!” he said. “I won’t charge you for the calf, though I daresay I’m wrong.”

  “You are wrong!” asserted the spare man, dancing with fury. “My name is Willitoft, sir! Willitoft!”

  “Well, don’t take on about it!” recommended Chirk, hitching the bridle of Coate’s horse to the gate post. “No one ain’t blaming you if it is!”

  Rose, who had been gazing at him for the last few minutes as though she doubted the evidence of her eyes, exclaimed faintly: “It is you! Whatever are we coming to?” and sat down suddenly on the bench behind her.

  “Willitoft!” repeated the spare man. “I represent the Trustees of the Derbyshire Tolls!”

  “Oh, lord!” ejaculated the Captain ruefully. “Now the cat’s in the cream-pot!”

  “Yes, fellow, it is! Indeed it is!” said Mr. Willitoft. “How dare you let these persons through the pike without payment? Two led horses as well! Three ruffians—ruffians, I say!—and———”

  “Give them a couple of tickets, Bab!” said the Captain.

  “You keep your tickets for them as may need ’em!” interposed Stogumber, who was still bestriding the landlord’s cob. “I’m employed on Government business, and I don’t pay tolls, not in any county!”

  “I don’t believe you!” declared Mr. Willitoft, bristling with suspicion. “You’re a hardened scoundrel! I knew you for a rogue the instant I laid eyes on you!”

  “Ho!” said Stogumber. “You did, did you? Then p’raps you’ll be so obliging as to cast your wapper-eyes over that afore you says something as you’ll be sorry for!”

  Mr. Willitoft, reading the information inscribed on the grubby sheet of paper handed down to him, looked very much taken aback, and even a little daunted. In a milder tone, he exclaimed: “Bow Street! God bless my soul! Very well, I demand no tax from you! But this fellow here is another matter!” he added, looking with disfavour at Chirk.

  “He ain’t neither,” said Stogumber. “He’s working for me.”

  “Miss Nell,” said Rose, in a hollow voice, “I am going to have a Spasm! I can feel it coming on!”

  “Oh, don’t do that!” said John, who, having tethered his horses, had limped up to them. He took Nell’s hands, and held them in his firm, comforting clasp. “My poor girl!” he said gently. “I wish I might have been beside you when it happened!”

  “You know, then? I came to tell you, and to ask you what I should do now. Just at the end, he knew me, and smiled, and, oh, John, he winked at me, and with such, a look in his eye!”

  “Did he? What a right one he was!” John said warmly. “He made up his mind he would live to accomplish one task, and, by Jove, he did accomplish it! You mustn’t grieve, my darling: he knew all was well, and he was glad to be done with his life.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her, sir,” agreed Rose. “Not even Mr. Winkfield wished him to drag on longer! Oh, for goodness’ sake, sir, whatever is my Jerry doing, as bold as brass? Such palpitations as it’s giving me I shall very likely go off in a swoon!”

  “No need for that: he’s turned respectable, and is about to set up as a farmer. Mrs. Staple and I are coming to dance at your wedding.”

  “Oh, Rose, I am so glad!” Nell said. “But is that man indeed from Bow Street, John? What were you doing in his company, and why are you limping? Good God, can it be—John, what does it mean?”

  “Nothing disagreeable,” he assured her. “It’s too long a story to tell you now, but you have no longer anything to dread, my brave girl! I’ll tell you later, but I think I had better first get rid of this waspish fellow who wants my blood, don’t you?”

  An involuntary chuckle escaped her. “Poor Mr. Babbacombe tried his best to fob him off, and I did, too, but there was no getting him to listen to a word we said. And then Tisbury came, with his cow, and they quarrelled over him! Mr. Babbacombe told Willitoft that if he knew so much about tolls he might mind the pike himself, and welcome! I thought Willitoft was going into convulsions, he was so angry!”

  Mr. Willitoft appeared still to be in this condition. As John limped back to him, he stabbed an accusing finger at him, and said: “You have no right here! You are an improper person to be in charge of the gate! You have no authority! You are an interloper, and an impostor, and I shall have you arrested!”

  “Well, I have no authority,” admitted John, “but I don’t think I deserve to be arrested! I haven’t robbed the trustees, you know! In fact, if you like to take the strong-box I’ll fetch it out to you.”

  “Look ’ee here, Mr. Willipop!” said Stogumber severely. “I wouldn’t advise you to say no more about improper persons being in charge of this here gate, because your trustees took and authorized a cove as was very highly improper indeed to mind it for ’em. He’s snuffed it now, but p’raps you’d like to know as he was hand-in-glove with them as committed a daring robbery in these parts not so long ago—which I shall set down in my report!”

  Mr. Willitoft looked quite dumbfounded by this intelligence, but having stared first at the Runner, then at John, and lastly, and with loathing, at Babbacombe, he said that he should require proof of the accusation. “And I fail to understand what that may have to do with my finding that dandy here! I won’t permit him to remain, I say!”

  “Well, I don’t want to remain,” said Mr. Babbacombe. “And if you call
me a dandy again, you antiquated old fidget, I’ll dashed well take off my coat, and show you how much of a dandy I am!”

  “Officer!” cried Mr. Willitoft. “I call on you to witness that this fellow has offered me violence!”

  “Well, you hadn’t better,” responded Stogumber. “I never heard him offer you no violence! Nice thing if a cove can’t take his coat off without a silly nodcock calling on us Runners to stop him!”

  “That’s the barber!” said Chirk approvingly. “Dang me if you ain’t a great gun, Redbreast!”

  “Insolence!” fumed Mr. Willitoft.

  Stogumber jerked his chin at John, who went to him, a good deal of amusement in his face.

  “We don’t want no trouble with this Willipop,” said Stogumber, in an undervoice. “You leave me take him up to the Blue Boar, Capting! I’ll have to tell him what made you stop on here like you have done, but you won’t care for that, I daresay.”

  “Not a bit! I shall be much obliged to you if you take him away. He’s a tiresome fellow!”

  Mr. Stogumber nodded, and addressed himself to Mr. Willitoft. “It’s me as is answerable for the Capting here staying to mind the pike, and very helpful he’s been. If you was to come along o’ me to my temp’ry headquarters, which is the inn up the road, I’ll tell you what’ll make you take a very different view of this business, Mr. Willipop.”

  “My name,” said the incensed Mr. Willitoft, “is not Willipop but Willitoft! And I will not under any circumstances permit this person to remain in charge of the gate!”

  “If you mean me,” said the Captain, “I can’t remain in charge of it. I’m leaving it today—immediately, in fact!”

  This unexpected announcement threw Mr. Willitoft off his balance. “You cannot walk off and leave the gate unattended!” he said indignantly.

  “Not only can, but will,” said John cheerfully.

  “But this goes beyond everything! Upon my soul, such effrontery I never thought to meet with! You will stay until the trustees appoint a man in Brean’s place!”