Esculus. Come hither to me, master Elbow, come hither,
master constable. How long have you been in this place of
constable?

MEASURE FOR MEASURE

We have seen that when the constable left the shop he felt some anxiety about the proper course to be pursued. On the one hand were his duty and avarice, on the other his fears. After some meditation he finally effected a compromise between them, by adopting the resolution to wait until the formidable Holden should make his appearance again in the village, where, he thought he would be less likely, in open day, and surrounded by others, to resist, or, if he did, the assistance of the bystanders might be commanded.

Two or three days passed in this manner, none, excepting the five persons above-mentioned, having any knowledge of the issuing of the warrant. The excitement had died away, and the little community supposed no notice would be taken of the occurrence, and, for the most part, were disposed that none should be. Meanwhile, Basset, like a spider in the centre of his web, watched for his victim, ready to pounce upon him, as soon as the propitious moment should arrive. It is curious how the desire to capture Holden increased with delay. At first, and in the prospect of immediate danger, the business was far from being relished, but as time slipped along, and his mind became familiarized to its contemplation, it began to assume something of even a tempting character. He began to fancy that if he could secure the Recluse, he should achieve for himself a reputation for courage, which he was far, at present, from possessing. Yet, still he desired to discharge his commission in the most prudent manner.

But Holden did not appear. Was it possible he could have obtained information of the threatened danger, and was keeping himself concealed? At the thought, Basset stood two inches higher; his courage mounted rapidly, and the terrible pirate dwindled into a submissive culprit.

Ketchum, meanwhile, began to be importunate. He had become impatient at waiting, and demanded of the constable the reason of the delay. The latter, unwilling to confess the true cause, put him off with such excuses as his ingenuity suggested, until he had exhausted his stock, and was obliged to apply himself to the discharge of his duty. He, therefore, made up his mind to face the danger, but not to monopolize the glory of the achievement. He dared not go alone, and accordingly looked round for somebody to assist him in the perilous enterprise. Now, the veteran Primus, by virtue of his exploits in the Revolutionary War, and the loss of one of his legs on the field of battle, enjoyed a high reputation for bravery. Backed by the old warrior, or rather led by him, for Basset meant to yield him the post of honor, the constable thought he should stand a much greater chance of success. He determined, therefore, to apply to Primus, secure his services, and take counsel with him on the best mode to apprehend Holden. With this view, he betook himself to the bachelor quarters of the black a hovel on the outskirts of the village, where we find him at this present moment.

“I hab some interjection, Missa Basset,” said Primus, evidently in reply to a proposition of the constable. “Suppose you come to ketch me, how I like to hab somebody help you?”

“No danger of that, Prime,” said Basset; “you are too clever a fellow for me to go with a warrant after; and if it was your case, I should more likely give you a squint of what was going on, than be plotting how to git hold on ye. You don’t know your friends, Prime.”

“Dey say ’tis a wise child dat know his own fader,” answered Primus. “Now, if a child dat see his fader ebery day, and been brung up in de same house, not know him, how is it possible dat I know you, Missa Basset, who neber before do me de honor ob a visit?”

“Why,” said the constable, who hardly knew what reply to make, “you never come to see me, Prime.”

“Dat is de trute,” said Primus, “and dat look as do you and me is no great friends, arter all. But,” added he, observing the other’s embarrassment, “dat is needer here nor dere. I always suspect you bery much, sar, and is willing to do anything to obleege you. Tell us, now, ’xactly, what you want me to do.”

“Why, you see, I want somebody to go along with me to be there when I take him, that’s all. The island’s three or four miles off, and I shall want you to help row the boat.”

“O, if dat is all, I is ’greeable,” exclaimed Primus. “When you tink of going, Missa Basset?”

“I ain’t just made up my mind on that pint, and that’s one thing I want to talk about. When will he be most likely to be at home? What do you think? Had we better go in the morning, or wait till afternoon.”

“Dat inquire some deflexum. Let me see: I don’t know about de day, at all. If he see you coming, he make off, probumbly, and den de job is lost, and de fire is in de fat. De night is de best time, I guess, to ketch dis kind ob fish.”

But this opinion did not suit the notions of the constable.

“It won’t be half so pleasant,” he said. “It’s plaguy cold at night; and if it keeps on at this rate, the river will soon freeze up. I expect we can git him easier, too, in the day-time than at night.”

For some reason Primus seemed to entertain a decidedly contrary opinion.

“You suspec’,” cried he, “de olé man let you put you hand an him as easy as Frisky wink (looking at a little mongrel, that at the mention of his name jumped into his master’s lap). Ketch a weasel asleep! De old man beard too long for dat.”

“Why, I can’t see,” said Basset, “what objections you can have if I take the risk. You can’t deny it’s a great deal pleasanter in the day time than to go along shivering at night, and, perhaps, catch a tarnation cold. So, Prime, what say to going down to-morrow in the forenoon or afternoon, I don’t care much which? It’s all one to me.”

“It’s all no use,” persisted Primus. “You just hab to pay for de boat and my sarvices, and git noting. Dat is what I call a berry bad spec, Missa Basset.”

“Well, what’s that to you, I tell you? If I choose to run the risk, that’s enough, and you ought to be satisfied. You git your pay, and what more do you want?”

“Dere is someting more I want,” exclaimed the General, “I want de satisfacshum ob victory. I want de satisfacshum here,” he repeated, laying his hand on his breast. “Do you tink, sar, dat a genlmn, dat fight in de Resolutionary war, and gib one leg, dat you may stand on two free leg, hab no feeling ob honor? Beside, dis old soger don’t want no bread he don’t arn.”

“Well, I’ll make a bargain with you, that if we don’t catch Holden, you shan’t have anything. That horse is soon curried.”

“Ah, dat won’t do. My time is precious, and de hire is wordy ob de laborer. No, Missa Basset, if you want to go in de day time, you can go. Dere is nobody will hender you. But dis child you will please ’scuse. Beside, dere is a good reason I say noting about ’cause I don’t want to hurt you feelings.”

“What’s that?” said Basset. “Don’t be afeared, spit it out.”

“Well, seeing as how you is so pressing you see I tink someting ob my ’spectability.”

“Your what?” exclaimed the constable, utterly at a loss to imagine the meaning of the other.

“My ’spectability,” repeated Primus, gravely. “You see, when I was a young man I sociate wid da best company in de country. I members de time when General Wayne (dey called him Mad Antony cause he fight so like de dibble) say afore de whole army dat haansome fellow meaning me look like anoder Anibal (Anibal I guess was a French General). Ah,” sighed Primus, “dey made more ’count ob colored pussons den, dan dey does now.”

“What has all this to do with your respectability?” inquired Basset who began to be a little impatient.

“I come to dat at de end ob de roll call,” responded Primus. “Do you tink it bery ’spectable now, for a man who, in his younger day, fight for liberty, to go for to take it away in his old age from anoder man?”

“But just consider,” said Basset, whose cue was flattery and conciliation, “Holden went agin the very laws you made.”

“I make de law, Missa Basset?” roared Primus, “haw! haw! haw! I make de law, haw! haw! haw! does you want to kill me! O dear!”

“Yes,” said Basset stoutly, “and I can prove it. Now say, if the Americans didn’t make their own laws, wouldn’t the British make ’em for ’em? And who was it drove the British out and give us a chance to make our own laws eh?”

“Pity you isn’t a lawyer,” said Primus, suddenly abandoning his mirth at the other’s explanation, “dere is a great deal in what you say de white men owes a big debt to us colored pussons. Dat is a fust rate reason why I should want to see de law execute but not for me to go myself in particular, when, perhaps de olé man point his rifle at me, and tell me to clear out.”

“Why, you don’t think he’ll resist?” cried the constable somewhat startled, feeling the apprehensions revive which Tom Gladding had occasioned, but which the passage of a few days had almost lulled asleep.

“’Tis bery hard to tell what a man do when he git in a corner,” said Primus, shaking his head, and fastening his eyes on the constable’s face, “but, if you want to know my ’pinion, it is just dis if Missa Holden know what you up to, he make day light shine trough you, in less dan no time, rader dan be took.”

“Poh?” exclaimed Basset, affecting a courage he was far from feeling, “you’re skeary, Prime. So, in your judgment, it’s safer to go by night, is it?”

“My ’pinion is made up on all de pints,” said Primus, resolutely, and bringing all his batteries to bear. “Dis case hab two hinge, de fust is de ’spectability, and de second de safety. Now, if any man suspect me to go on work ob dis a kind in de day time, when ebery body see me in you company, he as much mistake as when he kiss his granny for a gal. De night is de proper time for sich a dark business, and it suit me better if I ’scuse altogeder from it. But I wish to ’bleege you, Missa Basset. Now, de second hinge is de safety, and it ’stonish me dat an onderstanding man, and a man ob experunce and larning like you, Missa Basset, should dream o’ going in de daytime. Dere stand old Holden probumbly wid his rifle in de window and all he hab to do, he see so plan, is to pull de trigger and den where is you, Missa Basset? Or perhaps,” he added laughing, “’stead ob shooting at you, he shoot at me, and dat would be bery onpleasant. In de day-time, a colored pusson make a better mark dan a white man; but in de night we has de advantage. Haw! Haw!”

This was a view of things that did not please the constable at all, and the mirth of the negro appealed excessively ill-timed. He, therefore, said:

“Don’t talk so, Prime; it’s dreadful to hear you. Well, if you’re afraid, say so, and done with ”

“Me, ’fraid,” exclaimed Primus, “me dat is as ’customed to de bullets as de roof to de rain! No, sar, you is better ’quainted wid de genlmen dat is ’fraid dan dis child.”

“Don’t git mad though,” said Basset, in whose mind one apprehension drove out another, and who began to fear he might lose altogether his new ally. “Everybody knows you’re as brave as Julius Caesar, Prime.”

“Please, sar, not to repair me to no Caesar,” exclaimed the indignant General. “De Caesars ob my ’qaintance was nebber no great shakes. I hab a better name dan dat. My name is Primus dat mean, in Latin, fust so I hear genlmn say, and Ransome, and de meaning ob dat is, dat in de glorious Resolution I run some arter de British (dough de foolish doctor abuse me and say dey give me de name ’cause I run away), and putting bote togedder dey makes a name any genlmn may be proud ob. But, Missa Basset, what you going to gib me for dis job?”

“Why, a quarter’ll be good wages, I guess.”

“A quarter ob a dollar! Do you s’pose I dispose myself to ketch cold on de ribber, and die afore my time, and arter dat to be shoot at, like a duck, for a quarter? I don’t ’list on no such tarms.”

“We’ll say a half. I’m inclined to be liberal, but I shall expect you to be lively, Prime.”

“Dat is too little;” grumbled Primus. “And who else you got to help you?”

“Why, hain’t two enough? I might as well give up the job at once, and done with it, if I’m to pay out all the fees.”

“One more will make all sure,” said Primus, who, prudent general that he was, thought no odds could be too great against an enemy. “S’pose I speak to Missa Gladding to insist?”

“Tom Gladding be hung. I won’t give him a cent.”

“But,” said Primus, who seemed determined to have his own way in everything, “you no interjection, I guess, if it don’t cost you noting.”

“No,” replied Basset, who was glad enough of another auxiliary, provided his own packet was not affected. “But, mind ye, I don’t pay him a red cent.”

“I pay him myself, out ob my own pass. De danger won’t be so much, and de work will be done up right, sartin. So, atween genlmn, de business is settle.”

They parted with the understanding that the General was to see Gladding and induce him to take part in the enterprise, and that the three would meet at a certain place in the evening, the constable being careful to repeat that he couldn’t afford more than fifty cents for any assistance that might be rendered. Primus accordingly called upon Gladding, and the arrangement must have been satisfactory, for the three were all at the place of rendezvous at the appointed hour.