The O'Ruddy: A Romance Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  Now my whole mind was really bent on finding my black Forister, butyet, as Jem Bottles and I rode toward Bath, I thought of a cloakedfigure and a pair of shining eyes, and it seemed to me that I recalledthe curve of sweet, proud lips. I knew that I should be thinking of mypapers, my future; but a quick perversity made me dwell for a longtrotting time in a dream of feminine excellence, in a dream offeminine beauty which was both ascetic and deeply sensuous. I knowhardly how to say that two eyes, a vision of lips, a conception of afigure, should properly move me as I bounced along the road with JemBottles. But it is certain that it came upon me. The eyes of thedaughter of the great Earl of Westport had put in chains theredoubtable O'Ruddy. It was true. It was clear. I admitted it tomyself. The admission caused a number of reflections to occur in mymind, and the chief of these was that I was a misfortunate wretch.

  Jem Bottles recalled me to the immediate business.

  "'Tis the lights of Bath, sir," he said, "and if it please you, sir, Ishall await you under yonder tree, since the wretched balladists haverendered me so well known in the town that I dare not venture in itfor fear of a popular welcome from the people who have no snuff-boxeswhatever."

  "I will go and listen to the ballads," I replied, "and in the meantime do you await me here under that tree."

  So saying I galloped into Bath, my soul sharp to find Forister and totake him by the neck and strangle out of him those papers which weremy sole reasons for living. But the landlord of the best inn met mewith an unmistakable frankness.

  "Mr. Forister?" said he. "Yes, your lordship, but Mr. Forister is goneback to Bristol."

  I was so pleased with his calling me "your lordship" that I hesitateda moment. But I was recalled to sense by the thought that although JemBottles and I had fifteen guineas between us, he had fourteen and Ihad the one. Thanking the landlord I galloped out of Bath.

  Bottles was awaiting me under the tree. "To Bristol," I cried. "Ourchase lies toward Bristol. He has doubled back."

  "'Twas while we were at supper," said Bottles, as he cantered up to myshoulder. "I might have had two trials at him if I had not had thehonour of meeting your worship. I warrant you, sir, he would not haveescaped me twice."

  "Think of his crack in your skull, and be content," I replied. "And inthe mean time ride for Bristol."

  Within five miles of Bristol we came upon a wayside inn in which therewas progressing a great commotion. Lights flashed from window towindow, and we could hear women howling. To my great surprise Bottlesat once became hugely excited.

  "Damme, sir," he shouted, "my sweetheart is a chambermaid here, and ifshe be hurted I will know it."

  He spurred valiantly forward, and, after futilely calling to him tocheck his career, I followed. He leaped from his horse at the door ofthe inn and bounced into the place, pistol in hand. I was too confusedto understand much, but it seemed to my ears that his entrance washailed with a roar of relief and joy. A stable-boy, fearfully anxious,grasped my bridle, crying, "Go in, sir, in God's name. They will bekilling each other." Thinking that, whatever betide, it was proper tobe at the back of my friend Bottles, I too sprang from my horse andpopped into the inn.

  A more unexpected sight never met my experienced gaze. A fat landlady,mark you, was sobbing in the arms of my villainous friend, and apretty maid was clinging to his arm and screaming. At the same timethere were about him a dozen people of both sexes who were yelling,--

  "Oh, pray, Master Bottles! Good Master Bottles, do stop them. One is agreat Afric chief, red as a fire, and the other is Satan, Satanhimself! Oh, pray, good Master Bottles, stop them!"

  My fine highwayman was puffed out like a poisoned frog. I had nothought that he could be so grand.

  "What is this disturbance?" he demanded in a bass voice.

  "O good Master Bottles," clamoured the people. "Satan wishes to killthe Red Giant, who has Satan barred in the best room in the inn. Andthey make frightful destruction of chairs and tables. Bid them cease,O good Master Bottles!"

  From overhead we could hear the sound of blows upon wood mingled withthreatening talk.

  "Stand aside," said the highwayman in a great gruff voice which mademe marvel at him. He unhesitatingly dumped the swooning form of thelandlady into another pair of arms, shook off the pretty maid, andmoved sublimely upon the foot of the stairs amid exclamations of joy,wonder, admiration, even reverence.

  But the voice of an unseen person hailed suddenly from the head of thestairs.

  "And if ye have not said enough masses for your heathen soul,"remarked the voice, "you would be better mustering the neighbours thisinstant to go to church for you and bid them do the best they can in ashort time. You will never be coming downstairs if you once come up."

  Bottles hesitated; the company shuddered out: "'Tis the Red Giant."

  "And I would be having one more word with you," continued the unseenperson. "I have him here, and here I keep him. 'Tis not me that wantsthe little black rogue, what with his hammering on the door and hiscalling me out of my name. 'Tis no work that I like, and I would levergo in and put my heel in his face. But I was told to catch a littleblack man, and I have him, and him I will keep. 'Tis not me thatwished to come here and catch little black men for anybody; but here Iam in this foreign country, catching little black men, and I will haveno interference."

  But here I gave a great call of recognition.

  "Paddy!"

  I saw the whole thing. This wild-headed Paddy, whom I had told tocatch me a little black man, had followed after me toward Bath andsomehow managed to barricade in a room the very first man he saw whowas small and black. At first I wished to laugh; an instant later Iwas furious.

  "Paddy," I thundered; "come down out of that now! What would you bedoing? Come down out of that now!"

  The reply was sulky, but unmistakably from Paddy. Most of it wasmumbled.

  "Sure I've gone and caught as little and as black a man as is in thewhole world, and was keeping the scoundrel here safe, and along hecomes and tells me to come down out of that now with no more gratitudethan if he had given me a gold goose. And yet I fought a duel for himand managed everything so finely that he came away well enough to boxme on the ear, which was mere hilarity and means nothing betweenfriends."

  Jem Bottles was still halted on the stair. He and all the others hadlistened to Paddy's speeches in a blank amazement which had muchsuperstition in it.

  "Shall I go up, sir?" he asked, not eagerly.

  "No," said I. "Leave me to deal with it. I fear a great mistake. Giveme ten minutes, and I promise to empty the inn of all uproar."

  A murmur of admiration arose, and as the sound leaped about my ears Imoved casually and indifferently up against Paddy. It was a grandscene.

  "Paddy," I whispered as soon as I had reached a place on the stairssafe from the ears of the people below. "Paddy, you have made a greatblunder. You have the wrong man."

  "'Tis unlikely," replied Paddy with scorn. "You wait until you seehim, and if he is not little and black, then--"

  "Yes, yes," said I hastily, "but it was not any little black man atall which I wanted. It was a particular little black man."

  "But," said the ruffian brightly, "it would be possible this one willserve your end. He's little and he's black."

  At this moment the voice of the captive came intoning through the doorof a chamber.

  "When I am free I will first cut out your liver and have it grilled,and feed it to you as you are dying."

  Paddy had stepped forward and placed his lips within about six inchesof one of the panels.

  "Come now, be easy!" he said. "You know well that if you should do asyou say, I would beat your head that it would have the looks of apudding fallen from a high window, and that's the truth."

  "Open the door, rascal," called the captive, "and we shall see."

  "I will be opening no doors," retorted Paddy indignantly. "Remainquiet, you little black devil, or, by the mass, I'll--"

  "I'll slice your
heart into pieces of paper," thundered Paddy'sprisoner, kicking and pounding.

  By this time I was ready to interfere. "Paddy," said I, catching himby the shoulder, "you have the wrong man. Leave it to me; mind you,leave it to me."

  "He's that small and black you'd think--" he began dejectedly, but Icut him short.

  Jem Bottles, unable to endure the suspense, had come up from below.He was still bristling and blustering, as if all the maids wereremarking him.

  "And why does this fine gentleman kick and pound on the door?" hedemanded in a gruff voice loud enough to be heard in all appreciativeparts of the inn. "I'll have him out and slit his nose."

  The thunder on the door ceased, and the captive observed:

  "Ha! another scoundrel! If my ears do not play me false, there are nowthree waiting for me to kick them to the hangman."

  Restraining Paddy and Bottles, who each wished to reply in heroicverse to this sally, I stepped to the door.

  "Sir," said I civilly, "I fear a great blunder has been done. I--"

  "Why," said the captive with a sneer, "'tis the Irishman! 'Tis theking of the Irelands. Open the door, pig."

  My elation knew no bounds.

  "Paddy," cried I, "you have the right little black man." But there wasno time for celebration. I must first answer my enemy. "You willremember that I kicked you once," said I, "and if you have a memory aslong as my finger be careful I do not kick you again, else even peopleas far away as the French will think you are a meteor. But I would notbe bandying words at long range. Paddy, unbar the door."

  "If I can," muttered Paddy, fumbling with a lot of machinery soingenious that it would require a great lack of knowledge tothoroughly understand it. In the mean time we could hear Forister moveaway from the door, and by the sound of a leisurely scrape of a chairon the floor I judge he had taken his seat somewhere near the centreof the room. Bottles was handling his pistol and regarding me.

  "Yes," said I, "if he fires, do you pepper him fairly. Otherwise awaitmy orders. Paddy, you slug, unbar the door."

  "If I am able," said Paddy, still muttering and fumbling with hiscontrivances. He had no sooner mouthed the words than the door flewopen as if by magic, and we discovered a room bright with the light ofa fire and candles. Forister was seated negligently at a table in thecentre of the room. His legs were crossed, but his naked sword lay onthe table at his hand. He had the first word, because I was amazed,almost stunned, by the precipitous opening of the door.

  "Ho! ho!" he observed frigidly, "'tis indeed the king of the Irelands,accompanied by the red-headed duke who has entertained me for sometime, and a third party with a thief's face who handles a loadedpistol with such abandon as leads me to suppose that he once may havebeen a highwayman. A very pretty band."

  "Use your tongue for a garter, Forister," said I. "I want my papers."