Clowns -- Great Britain -- Biography; Grimaldi, Joseph, 1779-1837
"That wont do," said the man. "You have more money about you; I know
you have: come, hand over, will ye?"
"I have not, indeed," replied Grimaldi. "Sometimes I carry a little in
my pocket-book; but to-night I forgot to bring it with me."
"You have more money with you, and you know it," said the man who held
the bridle: "you have got a bank-note in your left-hand waistcoat
pocket."
The circumstance had really escaped Grimaldi's memory; but, being
reminded of it, he drew forth the note, and delivered it to the man to
whom he had resigned his purse.
"It's all right, Tom," said the man on his right; "we had better be off
now."
As the man spoke, he moved round the back of the gig, as if with the
intention of going away. It was the first time he had uttered a word,
and his voice struck Grimaldi as being a familiar one, though he could
not, in his confusion, recollect where or when he had heard it. He
had no time to reflect on the matter, for the man at the horse's head
demanded of the man on his left whether he had got his watch.
"No," said the fellow, "I forgot his watch. Give it here!" With these
words he again raised his pistol, which had been all this time, and
still was, on full cock.
Grimaldi gave it up, but not without a sigh, for it was the very
watch which had been presented to him with his own portrait on the
dial-plate. As he put it into the man's hand, he said,
"If you knew who I am, you would not treat me in this manner."
"Oh, we know you well enough, Mr. Grimaldi," said the man at the reins;
"we have been waiting for you these three nights, and began to think
you would not come to-night."
The other men laughed, and the man whose voice had struck him,
recommended his companion to give the watch back again.
"Oh yes, I dare say!" said the man, with a sneer, who held the horse.
"Well, I don't know," said the fellow who had been addressed as Tom; "I
don't think it's worth a couple of pounds."
"No, no, it is not; and besides, I say he shall have it again," cried
the man, whose voice, familiar at first, now seemed perfectly well
known to Grimaldi. "Here!" He snatched the watch from his comrade's
hand, who made no effort to retain it, and handed it into the gig.
Grimaldi gladly received it back; but, in the act of doing so, he saw
that the hand from which he took it had, or appeared to have, _but two
fingers upon it_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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