Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
This strange play which was passing in front of our eyes was so
bewildering that at first we could hardly realize what was taking
place, or gauge the singular situation in which we found ourselves.
But hearing the lusty demanding voices of the persons who even at that
moment were at the threshold of the inn, the whole meaning of this odd
matter suddenly flashed into my mind. Our elegant companion was a
professional breaker of laws, a highwayman most probably, and the
sheriff's men were hot on his track. Yet as I looked at the venerable
figure before me, the embodiment of stately grace and honoured age, I
could not forbear from laughing at him.
"An excellent jest," says he, in a voice that so utterly differed from
his natural one as to bestow the last and crowning touch to his altered
character. "But it is one that I have played so often in one form or
another upon these and similar people that I begin to fear it may grow
a little worn-out. However, I must trust to my proverbial luck, and
your kind co-operation."
He had no time to say anything more before these unwelcome visitors
came into the room with the landlord at their head.
"You can really take my word for it, gentlemen I assure you," he said
positively, protesting, "I have seen no such person as you describe.
Nor is it at all likely that my house, which has ever been famous for
its high respectability, would harbour such a desperate ruffian. You
say that His Majesty's mail has been stopped and tried this evening by
Will Sadler not five miles off, and that booty exceeding four thousand
pounds hath been taken. Lord defend us, gentlemen, whoever heard the
like! It is incredible; can this be the eighteenth century?"
By this about half a-dozen dirty, rain-soaked ruffians, comprising the
sheriff's posse, had come into the room. And at the head of them, if
you please, was that very despotic justice, the squire of the
neighbouring parish, who that afternoon had clapt us in the stocks.
His appearance certainly complicated matters a good deal, and was like
to make them vastly more awkward for us. Yet the fellow at this time
was in such an excited state of mind, due to the recent terrible event
and his high sense of what he was pleased to call his public duty, that
he gave neither Cynthia nor myself the slightest recognition. Indeed,
he had most probably forgotten our recent encounter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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