CHAPTER CLXVIII
[Chapter 176]
THE GRAZIER'S RELATION, AND HIS FIRST TERRORS. —THE EFFECTS OF GOOD CHEER
AND THE SUDDEN INTERRUPTION TO A PLEASANT PARTY.
The landlord was not long gone for the October; he came back with a
placid smile and a smacking of his lips, when he shut the door behind him, and
then deliberately placing the candlestick down, he said, handing them the
tankard, —
"There, gentlemen, if you find any better brewed than that in the three
adjoining counties, why, you may take measure for my coffin, for I won't live
after I am told there is any so good anywhere else."
"We will not take your word, landlord," said one of the highwaymen,
putting the tankard to his lips, which act produced an approving nod from the
jolly landlord, who said, with much encouragement, —
"That's right; never trust nobody; that's my motto, and I chalks it up
over the fire-place, and acts upon it—try for yourself, and then you won't
be deceived. What's your opinion upon that now, sir?"
"Never drank its equal, ever here."
"I thought you'd say so; it comes out of a particular cask—one as I
puts by for myself; but you have ridden hard, and I thought a brew of an extra
strike would be an acceptable drink."
"You are right. It is cold and very wet. I'm as tired as if I had
ridden far—the wind has blown me about so."
"Ah, don't you hear how it roars in the chimney?"
"So it does. What do you think of the brew, Ned—ain't it first rate?"
"Indeed it is: I never had any equal to it. I tell you what, landlord,
it will make an excellent night-cap, for a man who has taken a glass or two of
this, would not be better able to keep his saddle."
"No; it's lucky we intend putting up for the night here; you have beds."
"Yes, good, and well aired."
"That is capital. Well, your chicken-pie is good, landlord, your ham
good, and the October excellent; and now—what's that?"
At that moment there was a sound of horses' feet galloping furiously
towards the houses; and they had not listened long before they came close to
the door, and then there was evidently a sudden pull up.
"Hilloa! what is that?" said his companion.
"I think it is somebody pulled up at the door," said the landlord;
"whoever they are they have come in haste."
The two highwaymen half rose, but a look at each other caused them to
resume their seats, and in another moment there was a loud shouting, and a
call for the ostler; but there was no one at hand.
"Where is that Jim got to—I must go and see after him, at all events—
he won't come if I don't."
So saying, he walked away whilst the guests remained silent watching the
actions of the two highwaymen.
"It is but a single horseman," said the first.
"No," said the other; "but still he may be mischievous; and yet I can
hardly think he would venture here at such a time; besides, it can't be known;
we are much better here than anywhere else."
"I think so; we have nothing to fear."
"Nothing."
At that moment the landlord retired; and, at the same time, the door was
suddenly opened, and the grazier entered the kitchen. He glanced around him,
much confused. The fire and light, no doubt, had some share in that; but he
stared, and appeared terrified, and all splashed over.
"Where's the ostler?" he cried out.
"Here I be," said the worthy behind.
"Look after my horse; he is very hardly ridden. See to him, that's a
good fellow," said the grazier.["]
"Yes; I'll see to 'un," said Jem, who departed with the animal.
"Landlord—landlord!"
"Yes; here I am, Master Green—here am I!"
"Give me something strong; I'm half dead. I'm cold, and I'm frightened,
and that is the truth. Where's the fire?"
"Why, Master Green, I never saw you in this state before. Give me your
hand, Master Green. I'll show you the fire," said the landlord, holding out
his hand to Green. "Why, you are cold—what has happened?"
"You shall hear—you shall hear," said the half-terrified Green. "Only
give me a toss of brandy, and get me a supper, and then I shall be able to
tell you more about it. At present I can say nothing."
"Well, that is pretty well for a man that can't speak," said the
landlord. "You are getting better, Mr. Green."
"I hope I shall; the fire is comfortable."
"Here's some good brandy; take a gill, man. It won't hurt you on such an
occasion as this. I have seen you do as much before; but, as for supper, why
I can't say much. These two gentlemen have had the only thing I had in the
house, and, save the ham, I doubt much if there will be any left."
"If the gentlemen will join us, he is welcome to take a share of what we
have," said one of the highwaymen. "Here will be enough for us all, I dare
say, sir, if you do not object to our company."
"Thank you—thank you," said Green. "I will accept of your offer
gladly; for I have had a long ride, and have had much that is uncomfortable to
put up with, to see and to fear. Lord have mercy on me say I!"
"Well, what is the matter, Mr. Green?"
"Why," said Mr. Green, as he, between his words, poked in large mouthfuls
of food, and now and then washed it down by the aid of the October. "You all
of you know the highwayman's corner, about fifteen miles from here?"
"Yes," said the landlord, "I know it well; there's a chap hanging up in
chairs there, now, at this present day, that is, if nobody hasn't run away
with it, or it hasn't been blown down."
"Exactly. Well, that's the spot; there's been another dreadful murder
been done there. Oh! it was dreadful."
"Well, did you see it?"
"Yes; I did."
"What! the murder!" said both highwaymen at once.
"No; the body—I only saw the body."
"Where was it lying?"
"Stop, stop a bit—not so fast," said Mr. Green, who was eating very
fast indeed, but paused a moment. "You must not ask too many questions at
once, because I have one way of telling a tale, and you'll spoil it."
"Well, go on your own way."
"Well, then, listen. I was coming along at a rattling pace, I can tell
you, for I was late, and tired, as it was. When I had reached the gallows, I
looked up at the body swinging in the wind, and creaking and screaming on its
rusty swivels; but I had scarcely done so, when my horse shyed, and very
nearly landed me in the mud, but I contrived to keep my seat, though not
without trouble."
"What! at the dead man?" inquired one of the highwaymen.
"Aye," replied his companion. "I am sure they ought not to put men up
there like scarecrows, to frighten horses with; for my part, I never pass it
but my horse snorts and bolts, and I am obliged to be wary."
"I don't know much about that. I have come by without my nag being any
the worse. At all events, I thought there was something in his shying at the
gallows, and I tried to push him by, but he would not go."
"What did you do?"
"Why, I was obliged to get down," said the grazier.
"Thrown?"
"No, no."
"Forced to get down, you mean," said the highwayman.
"Why, in some sort of way I did feel myself compelled to get down,
because the brute wouldn't go a-head, and I saw something on the ground as the
clouds cleared away a little, and showed me that there was something
suspicious in the middle of the road, very much like a bundle of clothes."
"Indeed!" said the landlord, "what was it?"
"I'll tell you, in course. Now, you see, I saw the animal would not
move, so I got off to see what was the matter."
"Forced off," adde the highwayman.
"D—n it, man, what can it matter; then I got off," said the grazier,
getting into a passion, and then, after a pause, which he employed in taking a
long pull at the October, and then wiping his lips, he continued, —
"What is the matter now?" thought I; "so I went to the object, and found
it was a man rolled up in a cloak in the middle of the road, dead."
"Dead?"
"Aye, dead as a door nail."
"Lor!" said the highwayman. "Why, then he must have been murdered, I
suppose?"
"You may take your davy of that," said the grazier; "but I tried to wake
him up, but he was not to be disturbed, so I dragged him to the bank, where I
left him."
"Where was he hurt?"
"Shot right in the side, or stabbed, I don't know which, but that's where
the blood came from, so I was sure he was dead; but when I removed the cloak
from his face, I saw he had as ugly a set of features as a man can desire—a
long, peculiar face, large, but thin nose, an awkward set of teeth, with one
or two projecting in front, and oh! such eyes, that is when he opened them."
"Opened them," said the highwayman; "both?"
"Opened them," repeated the landlord; "why, did you not tell me he was
dead?"
"Aye; but when the moonlight came upon him, he opened his eyes. Oh! what
eyes—why, they were like a pair of enormous great fish eyes—cod's eyes,
that had become suddenly lighted up, or the moonlight reflected back from the
bottom of a new tin saucepan, and then you have 'em."
"The devil," said the highwayman; "and what did you do?"
"Why, I came away as fast as I could. I wasn't to be done by a dead man.
I didn't wait to see more than that. He turned round and stared at me. He
was so horrible, that I got upon my horse the best way I could, and came on
here as fast as the animal would come."
"The body, I dare say, rolled over, and you thought it moved of itself."
"I know better; besides, it opened its eyes."
"The moon shone on them, and you thought he looked at you. You were
terror-stricken, and that is the truth of it."
"Then I know better," said the grazier, doggedly; "it ain't anything of
the kind. I know it ain't a matter that happens every day, and that's why you
don't believe it, and don't understand it, but I know I'm right."
"House, here, house! ostler!" shouted a loud, authoritative voice without
the door of the inn, which caused them all to start and listen for a
repetition of the same sounds to prove that they were not illusory.
—