The Adventures of a Three-Guinea Watch Part 43

"Yes, and there's a lucifer here tells me he's no better than he ought to be. What do you think of that?"

"I think you and he ought to understand one another, if that's the case," growled I, unable to resist the temptation of a sarcastic reply.

"Ho, ho! that's pretty good for you, watch. However, there are some folk who are not as good as they ought to be, let alone better."

After a brief pause he began once more.

"He's young; only eighteen, I'm told."

As no answer was necessary here, I vouchsafed none.

"And he's trying to get a job on some ship, there's a nice look-out!

What a poor figure _you'd_ cut if you went to sea!"

I could not stand this, probably because I knew it was true; so I turned my back, and in self-defence bade good evening to an old pocket-comb which lay near me.

"Whew! good evening! whew!" replied he. He had a curious way, this comb, of giving a sort of half-whistle, half-sigh, between every few words he spoke.

"I suppose you are an older resident here than I am?" I suggested, by way of making myself agreeable.

"No, I'm not, whew! I belong to the other pocket, whew! I don't know why I'm here, whew! but make yourself at home, whew!"

"I hear your master is going to sea," said I.

"Not at all, whew! Who told you that? whew! but I tell you what, whew--"

"What?" I inquired.

At this moment our master stopped still in the middle of the road. I looked out and saw that he was standing face to face with a fine soldierly-looking fellow in uniform, who wore a c.o.c.kade of ribbons on his shako.

"Good evening, my lad," said the soldier.

"Good evening, cap'n," said the youth.

"Not cap'n just yet," said the other, laughing; "call it sergeant."

"Well, sargint. Good evening to ye, sargint."

"I've been looking for you all day, that I have," said the sergeant.

"What, me!" said my new master, in astonishment.

"Well, I was told to look out for the finest young fellow in the place, and that's about the same thing."

The lad chuckled at this vastly, and then said,--

"And what might ye be wanting me for, gineral, at all at all?"

"Faith, Patrick," said the sergeant, adopting the Irish brogue as if he had been a native, "to give yez a message from the Quane, just."

"The Quane!" shouted the Irishman.

"Sure, no other. She wants your help, my lad."

"And she shall have it, bless her! What can I do at all?"

"Arrah, she wants yez to foight a blackguard or two that's guv' her impidence."

"They have! I'm yer boy for a shindy. Where are they, colonel?"

"Not far off. And, by the way, she sent ye this bran new shillin' with her best respex to ye, Pat; and sez I'm to axe ye what you'll take to drink her health in; so come along, my lad."

Patrick did come along, and of course was duly and willingly enlisted by his new friend, who promised him honour, and glory, and riches enough to make a commander-in-chief's mouth water.

My new master, perhaps, was fond of making himself out a greater simpleton than he really was. At any rate, he appeared to believe every word the recruiting officer told him. And having no friends to say good-bye to, and no luggage to pack up, and no money (unless he p.a.w.ned me) to spend, he was ready for marching orders immediately. To my surprise, he showed no desire now to dispose of me.

"What 'ud I want to give him up?" he said to himself as he held me in his hand. "Shure he'll be handy to tell the toime by on the faylde of battle." And with this satisfactory a.s.surance he put me back in his pocket, which, greatly to my relief, was not the one which contained that asthmatic pocket-comb.

Patrick had not to leave for his depot till next day, and took a long stroll through the streets of Seatown along with the recruiting officer this evening. He was in high spirits and very proud of being a soldier, so the sergeant had very little difficulty in keeping him in good humour. Indeed, he stood that officer in good stead once; for encountering a compatriot acquaintance, a likely sort of fellow too, he helped her Majesty's army to a fine recruit.

"Here, Larry, ye blackguard," called he, "here's a gentman axing for yez."

Larry, a hulking sheepish young Irishman, did not look particularly happy at this information, and replied,--

"And what's to prevent him axing?"

"Man dear, and is that the way ye address one of the Quane's foighting men? Spake to him, meejor dear."

The "dear meejor" at this point took up the discourse.

"Faith," he said, "till I saw Patrick here I thought there wasn't a single boy in the place smart enough to wear a red coat, but I see there's two of ye anyhow."

And the sergeant laughed loud and clapped Larry on the back, and told him it was a shame for him to be walking about in boots full of holes, when he might be strutting up and down as fine as any gentleman in the place, to say nothing of regular pay and quarters, and all the chance of glory. And Patrick added his persuasions, and quoted his own example as a great argument. And between them Larry let the shilling drop into his hand, and the three went off to drink her Majesty's health, and then continued their pilgrimage through the streets.

At one street corner there was a rush of people, reading a newly-posted bill. Fancy my astonishment as I read:--"20 reward! Lost yesterday (February 4th), near Seatown Gaol, an old silver watch, of very little value to any one but the owner. A piece of black ribbon was attached.

Any one bringing the above to the Reverend James Halliday, at 2, Quay Street, will receive 20 reward."

How my heart beat as our party halted in front of this announcement.

Alas! my new master was not a scholar, and on satisfying himself the object of the people's a.s.sembling was not a fight, he took no further interest in the matter, but shouldered his way past with no more thought of me just at that moment than of the North Pole.

That night, as I lay in the dark in my new quarters, I had leisure to think over the strange turn which my fortune had taken. Here I was in a town where three of those whom at some time or other I had called master were living. One was a common prisoner, one a hard-working curate, and one a raw recruit. Of my other masters, one was a London thief, one lay in his grave, and the other, and best loved of all, was far away in scenes and perils which I could not so much as picture to myself. What would become of me? I knew not; but I could not help feeling the best part of my life was spent, for who could be to me again what some of those whom I now remembered had been?

I had arrived thus far in my meditations when I all of a sudden turned faint. I knew what the matter was at once, and what did this lump of an Irishman understand about watch-keys and winding up?

I called faintly to the watered ribbon--

"I'm running down!"