Great Britain -- History -- Fiction; Space and time -- Fiction
‘“Ah, but ye see now they needed it for another use,” says he, smoothly.
‘“So they did my serpentines,” Sebastian cries. “I should be half across
the Western Ocean by this if my guns had been ready. But they’re sold to a
Scotch pirate by your old friend.”
‘“Where’s your proof?” says Sir John, stroking his beard.
‘“I broke my shins over them not an hour since, and I heard John give
order where they were to be taken,” says Sebastian.
‘“Words! Words only,” says Sir John. “Master Collins is somewhat of a liar
at best.”
‘He carried it so gravely, that for the moment, I thought he was dipped in
this secret traffick too, and that there was not an honest ironmaster in
Sussex.
‘“Name o’ Reason!” says Sebastian, and raps with his cow-tail on the
table, “Whose guns are they, then?”
‘“Yours, manifestly,” says Sir John. “You come with the King’s Order for
’em, and Master Collins casts them in his foundry. If he chooses to bring
them up from Nether Forge and lay ’em out in the church tower, why they
are e’en so much the nearer to the main road and you are saved a day’s
hauling. What a coil to make of a mere act of neighbourly kindness, lad!”
‘“I fear I have requited him very scurvily,” says Sebastian, looking at
his knuckles. “But what of the demi-cannon? I could do with ’em well, but
_they_ are not in the King’s Order.”
‘“Kindness—loving-kindness,” says Sir John. “Questionless, in his zeal for
the King and his love for you, John adds those two cannon as a gift. ’Tis
plain as this coming daylight, ye stockfish!”
‘“So it is,” says Sebastian. “Oh, Sir John, Sir John, why did you never
use the sea? You are lost ashore.” And he looked on him with great love.
‘“I do my best in my station.” Sir John strokes his beard again and rolls
forth his deep drumming Justice’s voice thus:—“But—suffer me!—you two
lads, on some midnight frolic into which I probe not, roystering around
the taverns, surprise Master Collins at his”—he thinks a moment—“at his
good deeds done by stealth. Ye surprise him, I say, cruelly.”
‘“Truth, Sir John. If you had seen him run!” says Sebastian.
‘“On this you ride breakneck to me with a tale of pirates, and wool-wains,
and cow-hides, which, though it hath moved my mirth as a man, offendeth my
reason as a magistrate. So I will e’en accompany you back to the tower
with, perhaps, some few of my own people, and three to four wagons, and
I’ll be your warrant that Master John Collins will freely give you your
guns and your demi-cannon, Master Sebastian.” He breaks into his proper
voice—“I warned the old tod and his neighbours long ago that they’d come
to trouble with their side-sellings and bye-dealings; but we cannot have
half Sussex hanged for a little gun-running. Are ye content, lads?”
‘“I’d commit any treason for two demi-cannon,” said Sebastian, and rubs
his hands.
‘“Ye have just compounded with rank treason-felony for the same bribe,”
says Sir John. “Wherefore to horse, and get the guns.”’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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