Courtship -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
“Oh, miss!” said an agitated voice, “may I speak to you--the captain!”
“What captain?” inquired Lucy, without opening the door.
“Knealys, miss.
“I will come out to you. Now. Has Captain Kenealy returned already?”
“La! no, miss. He haven't been anywhere as I know of. He had them
about him as couldn't spare him.”
“Something is the matter, Jane. What is it?”
Jane lowered her voice mysteriously. “Well, miss, the captain is--in
trouble.”
“Oh, dear, what has happened?”
“Well, the fact is, miss, the captain's--took”
“I cannot understand you. Pray speak intelligibly.”
“Arrested, miss.”
“Captain Kenealy arrested! Oh, Heaven! for what crime?”
“La, miss, no crime at all--leastways not so considered by the gentry.
He is only took in payment of them beautiful reg-mentals. However,
black or red, he is always well put on. I am sure he looks just out of
a band-box; and I got it all out of one of the men as it's a army
tailor, which he wrote again and again, and sent his bill, and the
captain he took no notice; then the tailor he sent him a writ, and the
captain he took no notice; then the tailor he lawed him, but the
captain he kep' on a taking no more notice nor if it was a dog a
barking, and then a putting all them ere barks one after another in a
letter, and sending them by the post; so the end is, the captain is
arrested; and now he behooves to attend a bit to what is a going on
around an about him, as the saying is, and so he is waiting to pay you
his respects before he starts for Bridewell.”
“My fatal advice! I ruin all my friends.”
“Keep dark,” says he; “don't tell a soul except Miss Fountain.”
“Where is he? Oh?”
Jane offered to show her that, and took her to the stable yard.
Arriving with a face full of tender pity and concern, Lucy was not a
little surprised to find the victim smoking cigars in the center of
his smoking captors. The men touched their hats, and Captain Kenealy
said: “Isn't it a boa, Miss Fountain? they won't let me do your little
commission. In London they will go anywhere with a fellaa.”
“London ye knows,” explained the assistant, “but this here is full of
hins and houts, and folyidge.”
“Oh, sir,” cried Lucy to the best-dressed captor, “surely you will not
be so cruel as to take a gentleman like Captain Kenealy to prison?”
“Very sorry, marm, but we 'ave no hoption: takes 'em every day; don't
we, Bill?”
Bill nodded.
“But, sir, as it is only for money, can you not be induced
by--by--money--”
“Bill, lady's going to pay the debtancosts. Show her the ticket. Debt
eighty pund, costs seven pund eighteen six.”
“What! will you liberate him if I pay you eighty-eight pounds?”
“Well, marm, to oblige you we will; won't we, Bill?”
He winked. Bill nodded.
“Then pray stay here a minute, and this shall be arranged to your
entire satisfaction”; and she glided swiftly away, followed by Jane,
wriggling.
“Quite the lady, Bill.”
“Kevite. Captn is in luck. Hare ve to be at the vedding, capn?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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