The Young Cavalier: A Story of the Civil WarsWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
History
The Young Cavalier: A Story of the Civil Wars
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Juvenile fiction
"Is there a decent and well-conducted inn hereabouts?" asked my
companion, addressing a red-haired fellow in a grey smock.
"What do 'ee say?" replied the countryman, scratching his poll in
obvious perplexity.
"An inn, dolt! An inn."
"There be one up yonder," said the man in a singsong voice. "'E be
called the King's 'Ead, if 'ee be for the King, and the Stamford
Arms, if 'ee be for the Parleymun. It be no worry to we, anyway."
"Let's try the King's Head," I remarked. "Though 'tis to be hoped
that those who dub it after the Earl of Stamford may be not present."
"So be it," replied my companion, and riding up to the door of the
inn, we dismounted and knocked.
From within came the sound of many voices engaged in lively
conversation, and, finding that our summons was unanswered, Firestone
pushed open the door and entered.
At the end of a stone passage was another door, partly opened, and to
our surprise a well-known voice was heard:
"This, gentlemen, fully demonstrates the sovereign virtues possessed
by my inimitable powder, of which I am agreeable to sell small
portions at the price of one penny--one penny only, I say. Each
portion capable of acting on four ounces of lead. 'Tis only in the
goodness of my heart that I offer this priceless powder to His
Majesty's subjects, and----"
"'Tis the arrogant rogue who bested us at Winchester!" I whispered.
"Ay! I knew it the moment I heard his voice. Listen."
"I ask no man to buy," continued the huckster. "'Tis to be regarded
as a gift--no, sir, it must not be used under an hour, being but this
evening made up--as a gift, I repeat; but to prevent an injudicious
distribution, I am compelled to ask but one penny for this small
quantity. I have demonstrated its powers to you, as I have done
before princes of the blood, knights and gentlemen in London, York,
Lincoln, Norwich, Exeter----"
"And Winchester, you rogue!" exclaimed the colonel, bursting into the
room. "Where are our fifty pounds in gold?"
The self-styled merchant of Southampton was terrified at the sight of
our sudden appearance. His knees smote together, his jaw dropped, and
his lank, raven hair almost stood upright.
Gripping his shoulder, I forced him against the wall, and, thrusting
back his sleeve, we discovered a cube of lead similar in shape to the
one of silver which still lay on the table. Seeing the deception, the
crowd, who had regarded us with little favour, began to cast
imprecations on the impostor.
"We'll have this on account," said Colonel Firestone, pocketing the
silver. "And now turn out his purse."
Eleven pounds in gold and over a pound in silver and copper were
shaken out on the table, the wretched man making no resistance.
"Thirty-eight pounds to the had. What say you, sirrah?" demanded the
colonel sternly. "Is it the hangman at Bodmin, where perchance
thou'lt be cropped by the ears and branded on the face, and finish by
dangling at the end of a stout hempen rope? What say you, I repeat?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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