"Why, as to that, sir," said the man, falling into step beside me as I
walked on down the hill, "I won't say yes and I won't say no, but what
I do say is—as many a man might think twice afore running the chance
of coming to that—look!" And he stopped to turn, and point back at
the gibbet with his stick. "Nick can't last much longer, though I've
know'd 'em hang a good time—but they made a botch of Nick—not enough
tar; you can see where the sun catches him there!"
Once more, though my whole being revolted at the sight, I must needs
turn to look at the thing—the tall, black shaft of the gibbet, and the
grisly horror that dangled beneath with its chains and iron bands; and
from this, back again to my companion, to find him regarding me with a
curiously twisted smile, and a long-barrelled pistol held within a foot
of my head.
"Well?" said I, staring.
"Sir," said he, tapping his boot with his stick, "I must trouble you
for the shiner I see a-winking at me from your cravat, likewise your
watch and any small change you may have."
For a moment I hesitated, glancing from his grinning mouth swiftly over
the deserted road, and back again.
"Likewise," said the fellow, "I must ask you to be sharp about it." It
was with singularly clumsy fingers that I drew the watch from my fob
and the pin from my cravat, and passed them to him.
"Now your pockets," he suggested, "turn 'em out."
This command I reluctantly obeyed, bringing to light my ten guineas,
which were as yet intact, and which he pocketed forthwith, and two
pennies—which he bade me keep.
"For," said he, "'t will buy you a draught of ale, sir, and there's
good stuff to be had at 'The White Hart' yonder, and there's nothin'
like a draught of good ale to comfort a man in any such small adversity
like this here. As to that knapsack now," he pursued, eyeing it
thoughtfully, "it looks heavy and might hold valleybels, but then, on
the other hand, it might not, and those there straps takes time to
unbuckle and—" He broke off suddenly, for from somewhere on the hill
below us came the unmistakable sound of wheels. Hereupon the fellow
very nimbly ran across the road, turned, nodded, and vanished among the
trees and underbrush that clothed the steep slope down to the valley
below.
CHAPTER V
THE BAGMAN
I was yet standing there, half stunned by my loss and the suddenness of
it all, when a tilbury came slowly round a bend in the road, the driver
of which nodded lazily in his seat while his horse, a sorry, jaded
animal, plodded wearily up the steep slope of the hill. As he
approached I hailed him loudly, upon which he suddenly dived down
between his knees and produced a brass-bound blunderbuss.
"What's to do?" cried he, a thick-set, round-faced fellow, "what's to
do, eh?" and he covered me with the wide mouth of the blunderbuss.
"Thieves!" said I, "I've been robbed, and not three minutes since."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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