The Honourable Mr. Tawnish Part 9

"No! Devil take me--do you think I'll stand by and see you murdered?"

"Bentley," I cried, "if ever you were friend of mine you will free my arm this instant."

All this time Raikes sat regarding us with a look of such open amus.e.m.e.nt as came nigh driving me frantic.

"Mr. Bentley," says he, with a flourish of his hat, "I fancy 'twould be as well for Sir Richard were I and Captain Hammersley to ride on before, yet do not loose him till I am out of sight, I beg."

"You hear, Bentley?" says I, trembling with pa.s.sion. "Come--let us go--fool," I whispered under my breath, "for her sake!" Bentley's fingers twitched upon my arm.

"Ah, I thought so!" he nodded.

"Then quick, do as I bid, and get it over."

"On condition that you settle the affair in the meadow yonder--'tis a better place in all respects," says Bentley, under his breath.

"I care not where it be," says I.

"So," sneered Raikes, "you are bent on fighting, then?"

"In the meadow yonder," nodded Bentley, pointing with his whip to a field that lay beyond the narrow stone bridge, some little distance ahead.

"As you will," says Raikes, shrugging his shoulders; "but whatever the consequences, I call you all to witness that Sir Richard's own impulsiveness is entirely to blame."

So, having remounted, we rode forward, Raikes and the Captain leading the way.

Now as we drew nearer to the bridge I have mentioned, I noticed a solitary figure wrapped in a horseman's cloak who sat upon the coping, seemingly absorbed in watching the flow of the stream beneath. We were almost upon him when he slowly rose to his feet, and as he turned his head I saw that he was masked, and, furthermore, that in either hand he held a long-barrelled pistol.

"Abershaw, by G.o.d!" exclaimed the Captain, reining up all of a sudden.

"Stand!" cried a harsh voice, whereupon we all very promptly obeyed with the exception of Raikes, who, striking spurs to his horse, dashed in upon the fellow with raised whip. There was the sound of a blow, a bitter curse, and the heavy whip, whirling harmlessly through the air, splashed down into the stream.

"Ah! would you then?" says the fellow, with the muzzles of the pistols within a foot of Sir Harry's cowering body. "Ah, would you? Curse me, but I've a mind to blow the heart and liver out of you--d'ye take me?"

"I'll see you hanged for this," said Raikes, betwixt his teeth.

"Maybe aye, maybe no," says the fellow, in the same rough yet half-jovial voice, "but for the present come down--get down, d'ye hear?" Muttering oaths, Sir Harry perforce dismounted, and being by this still nearer the threatening muzzles, immediately proceeded to draw out a heavy purse, which he sullenly extended toward the highwayman, who, shifting one pistol to his pocket, took it, weighed it in his hand a moment, and then coolly tossed it over into the stream.

"What the devil!" gasped Raikes, "are you mad?"

"Maybe aye, maybe no," says the fellow, grinning beneath his mask, "but that's neither here nor there, master, the question betwixt us being a coat."

"What coat?" cries Raikes, with a bewildered stare.

"This coat," says the fellow, tapping him upon the arm with his pistol barrel, "and a very pa.s.sable coat it is--fine velvet, I swear, and as I'm a living sinner, a flowered waistcoat!--come, take 'em off, d'ye hear?"

Very slowly, Sir Harry obeyed, swearing frightfully, while the fellow, sitting upon the parapet of the bridge, swung his legs and watched him.

"Humph!" says he, as if to himself, "buckskin breeches, and boots brand new--burn me!" and then suddenly in a louder tone: "Off with them!"

"What d'ye mean?" snarled Raikes, and his face was murderous.

"What I says," returned the other, with a flourish of his pistols, "such being my natur', d'ye take me? And if the gentleman in the muddy hat moves a finger nearer his barkers, I'll blow his head off--curse me if I won't." Saying which the highwayman began to whistle softly, swinging his legs in time to himself. As for the Captain, the hand which had crept furtively towards his pistols dropped as if it had been shot, and he sat watching the fellow with staring eyes.

And indeed he made a strange, fantastic figure sitting there hunched up in the fading light, with the quick gleam of his ever restless eyes showing through the slits of his hideous half-mask, and the pout of his whistling lips beneath; nay, there was about the whole figure, from the rusty spurs at his heels to the crown of his battered hat, something almost devilish, with an indefinable mockery beyond words.

"Bentley," I whispered, as Raikes slowly kicked off his boots one after the other, "this fellow's a madman beyond a doubt, or we are dreaming."

Bentley's reply was something betwixt a groan and a choke, and looking round, I saw that his face was purple.

"Man, don't do that," I cried, "you'll burst a blood-vessel!"

"Come," says the fellow, breaking off his whistle of a sudden, and turning over the garments at his feet with the toe of his boot, "you wouldn't go for to cheat me out of your breeches, would you? Come now, master, off with 'em, I say, for look ye, I mislike to be kept waiting for a thing as I wants--such being my natur', d'ye take me?"

Sir Harry Raikes stood rigid, his face dead white--only his burning eyes and twitching mouth told of the baffled fury that was beyond all words.

Twice he essayed to speak and could not--once he turned to look at us with an expression of such hopeless misery and mute appeal as moved even me to pity. As for the highwayman, he began to whistle and swing his legs once more.

"Bentley," says I, "this must go no farther."

"What can we do?" gasped Bentley, and laid his heavy hand upon my arm.

"Come," says the fellow again, rising to his feet.

"No," cries Raikes, in a choking voice, "not for all the devils in h.e.l.l!"

"I'll count five," grinned the fellow, and he levelled his pistols.

"One!" says he, but Raikes never stirred--"Two," the harsh, inexorable voice went on, "three--four--" There was a sudden wild sob, and Sir Harry Raikes was shivering in his hat and shirt. The highwayman now turned his attention to Raikes's horse--though keeping a wary eye upon us--and having drawn both pistols from their holsters, motioned him to remount. Sir Harry obeyed with never so much as a word; which done, the fellow gave a whistle, upon which a horse appeared from the shadow of the hedge beyond, from whose saddle he took two lengths of cord, and beckoning to the Captain, set him to bind Raikes very securely to the stirrup-leathers. As one in a dream the Captain proceeded about it (bungling somewhat in the operation), but it was done at last.

"Now, my masters," says the fellow briskly, "I must trouble each one of you for his barkers--and no tricks, mark me, no tricks!" With this he nodded to Bentley, who yielded up his weapons after a momentary hesitation, while the Captain seemed positively eager to part with his, and I in my turn was necessitated to do the same.

It may be a matter of wonder to some, that one man could so easily disarm four, but 'tis readily understood if you have looked into the muzzle of a horse-pistol held within a few inches of your head.

Thus, all being completed, the highwayman, having mounted, gave us the word to proceed, Bentley and I riding first, then Raikes and the Captain, and last of all the fellow, pistol in hand. So thus it was, in the dusk of the evening, that we came into Tonbridge Town, with never a word betwixt us--myself silent from sheer amazement, the Captain for reasons of his own, Sir Harry Raikes for very obvious causes, but mostly (as I judge) on account of his chattering teeth, and Bentley because a man cannot whistle "Lillibuleero" beneath his breath and talk at the same time.

Lights were beginning to gleam at windows as we entered the High Street, and here I made sure the highwayman would have left us--but no, on turning my head, there he rode, close behind--his battered hat over his nose, and his pistol in his hand, for all the world as if we were back on the open road rather than the main thoroughfare of a Christian town.

By this time we were become a mark for many eyes; people came running from all sides, the air hummed with voices; shouts were heard, mingled with laughter and jeers, but we rode on, and through it all at a gallop.

As we pa.s.sed "The Chequers" I saw the windows full of faces, and Truscott and Finch with five or six others came running out to stare after us open mouthed. So we galloped through Tonbridge Town, and never drew rein until we were out upon the open road once more. There the fellow stopped us.

"Masters all," says he, "'tis here we part--maybe you'll forget me--maybe not--especially one of you; d'ye take me?" and he pointed to the shivering figure of Raikes. "The wind is plaguily chill I'll allow, but burn me! could I be blamed for that, my masters--what, all silent?

Well! Well! Howsomever, give me that trinket, Master--just to show there's no ill-feeling, so to speak; and he indicated a small gold locket that Raikes wore round his neck on a riband, who, without a word, or even looking up, slipped it off and laid it in the other's outstretched hand.

"Well, good-night, my masters, good-night!" says he, in his jovial voice; "maybe we shall meet again, who knows? My best respects to you all--me being respectful by natur'. Good-night." So, with an awkward flourish of his hat, he wheeled his horse and galloped away towards London.

CHAPTER FIVE

_Concerning the true Ident.i.ty of our Highwayman_