a customer for the future of the value of a pin’s point, provided he might be rescued from the present danger. Whether or not his disburthening his conscience afforded him any ease I knew not, but he slipped into bed again, and lay very quiet until the robber and his mistress were asleep, and snored in concert; then, rising softly, he untied a rope that was round his pack, which making fast to one end of it, he opened the window with as little noise as possible, and lowered his goods into the yard with great dexterity: then he moved gently to our bedside and bade us farewell, telling us that, as we ran no risk we might take our rest with great confidence, and in the morning assure the landlord that we knew nothing of his escape, and, lastly, shaking us by the hands, and wishing us all manner of success, he let himself drop from the window without any danger, for the ground was not above a yard from his feet as he hung on the outside.
Although I did not think proper to accompany him in his flight, I was not at all free from apprehension when I reflected on what might be the effect of the highwayman’s disappointment; as he certainly intended to make free with the pedlar’s ware. Neither was my companion at more ease in his mind, but on the contrary, so possessed with the dreadful idea of Rifle, that he solicited me strongly to follow our countryman’s example, and so elude the fatal resentment of that terrible adventurer, who would certainly wreak his vengeance on us as accomplices of the pedlar’s elopement. But I represented to him the danger of giving Rifle cause to think we know his profession, and suggested that, if ever he should meet us again on the road, he would look upon us as dangerous acquaintance, and find it his interest to put us out of the way. I told him, withal, my confidence in Betty’s good nature, in which he acquiesced; and during the remaining part of the night we concerted a proper method of behaviour, to render us unsuspected in the morning.
It was no sooner day than Betty, entering our chamber, and perceiving our window open, cried out, “Odds-bobs! sure you Scotchmen must have hot constitutions to lie all night with the window open in such cold weather.” I feigned to start out of sleep, and, withdrawing the curtain, called, “What’s the matter?” When she showed me, I affected surprise, and said, “Bless me! the window was shut when we went to bed.” “I’ll be hanged,” said she, “if Sawney Waddle, the pedlar, has not got up in a dream and done it, for I heard him very obstropulous in his sleep, Sure I put a chamberpot under his bed!”
With these words she advanced to the bed, in which he lay, and, finding the sheets cold, exclaimed, “Good lackadaisy! The rogue is fled.” “Fled,” cried I, with feigned amazement, “God forbid! Sure he has not robbed us!” Then, springing up, I laid hold of my breeches, and emptied all my loose money into my hand; which having reckoned, I said, “Heaven be praised, our money is all safe! Strap, look to the knapsack.” He did so, and found all was right. Upon which we asked, with seeming concern, if he had stolen nothing belonging to the house. “No, no,” replied she, “he has stole nothing but his reckoning;” which, it seems, this pious pedlar had forgot to discharge in the midst of his devotion.
Betty, after a moment’s pause withdrew, and immediately we could hear her waken Rifle, who no sooner heard of Waddle’s flight than he jumped out of bed and dressed, venting a thousand execrations, and vowing to murder the pedlar if ever he should set eyes on him again: “For,” said he “the scoundrel has by this time raised the hue and cry against me.”
Having dressed himself in a hurry, he mounted his horse, and for that time rid us of his company and a thousand fears that were the consequence of it.
While we were at breakfast, Betty endeavoured, by all the cunning she was mistress of, to learn whether or no we suspected our fellow-lodger, whom we saw take horse; but, as we were on our guard, we answered her sly questions with a simplicity she could not distrust; when, all of a sudden, we heard the trampling of a horse’s feet at the door. This noise alarmed Strap so much, whose imagination was wholly engrossed by the image of Rifle, that, with a countenance as pale as milk, he cried, “O Lord! there is the highwayman returned!”
Our landlady, staring at these words, said, “What highwayman, young man? Do you think any highwaymen harbour here?”
Though I was very much disconcerted at this piece of indiscretion in Strap, I had presence of mind enough to tell her we had met a horseman the day before, whom Strap had foolishly supposed to be a highwayman, because he rode with pistols; and that he had been terrified at the sound of a horse’s feet ever since.
She forced a smile at the ignorance and timidity of my comrade; but I could perceive, not without great concern, that this account was not at all satisfactory to her.
CHAPTER IX
We proceed on our Journey—are overtaken by a Highwayman who fires at Strap—is prevented from shooting me by a Company of Horsemen, who ride in pursuit of him—Strap is put to Bed at an Inn—Adventures at that Inn
After having paid our score and taken leave of our hostess, who embraced me tenderly at parting, we proceeded on our journey, blessing ourselves that we had come off so well. We had not walked above five miles, when we observed a man on horseback galloping after us, whom we in a short time recognised to be no other than this formidable hero who had already given us so much vexation. He stopped hard by me, and asked if I knew who he was? My astonishment had disconcerted me so much that I did not hear his question, which he repeated with a volley of oaths and threats; but I remained as mute as before.
Strap, seeing my discomposure, fell upon his knees in the mud, uttering, with a lamentable voice, these words: “For Christ’s sake, have mercy upon us, Mr. Rifle! we know you very well.” “Oho!” cried the thief, “you do! But you never shall be evidence against me in this world, you dog!” So saying, he drew a pistol, and fired it at the unfortunate shaver, who fell flat upon the ground without speaking one word.
My comrade’s fate and my own situation riveted me to the place where I stood, deprived of all sense and reflection; so that I did not make the least attempt either to run away or deprecate the wrath of this barbarian, who snapped a second pistol at me; but, before he had time to prime again, perceiving a company of horsemen coming up, he rode off, and left me standing motionless as a statue, in which posture I was found by those whose appearance had saved my life. This company consisted of three men in livery, well armed, with an officer, who (as I afterwards learned,) was the person from whom Rifle had taken the pocket pistols the day before; and who, making known his misfortune to a nobleman he met on the road, and assuring him his non-resistance was altogether owing to his consideration for the ladies in the coach, procured the assistance of his lordship’s servants to go in quest of the plunderer. This holiday captain scampered up to me with great address, and asked who fired the pistol which he had heard.
As I had not yet recovered my reason, he, before I could answer, observed a body lying on the ground, at which sight his colour changed, and he pronounced, with a faltering tongue, “Gentlemen, here’s murder committed! Let us alight.” “No, no,” said one of his followers, “let us rather pursue the murderer. Which way went he, young man?”
By this time I had recollected myself so far as to tell them that he could not be a quarter of a mile before; and to beg one of them to assist me in conveying the corpse of my friend to the next house, in order to it being interred. The captain, foreseeing that, in case he should pursue, he must soon come to action, began to curb his horse, and gave him the spur at the same time, which treatment making the creature rear up and snort, he called out, his horse was frightened, and would not proceed; at the same time wheeling him round and round, stroking his neck, whistling and wheedling him with “Sirrah, sirrah—gently, gently.” etc. “Z—ds!”, cried one of the servants, “sure my lord’s Sorrel is not resty!”
With these words he bestowed a lash on his buttocks, and Sorrel, disdaining the rein sprang forward with the captain at a pace that would have soon brought him up with the robber, had not the girtle (happily for him) given way, by which means he landed in the dirt; and two of his attendants continued their pursuit, without minding his situation. Meanwhile one of the three who remained at my desire, turning the body of Strap, in order to see the wound which had killed him, found him still warm and breathing: upon which, I immediately let him blood, and saw him, with inexpressible joy, recover; he having received no other wound than what his fear had inflicted. Having raised him upon his legs, we