PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT, ENDING IN A LONG CHASE.
One day, not long after his arrival
at Athenbury, Kenneth Stuart was seated in Colonel
Crusty’s drawing-room, awaiting the summons to
dinner.
Pretty Bella sat beside him, endeavouring
to get up a flirtation - for Bella was an
inveterate flirt. Besides being pretty, she was
sprightly and full of life - a giddy gay
thing, much addicted to that dangerous practice of
fluttering round improprieties with cheerful recklessness.
She was one of those human moths whose wings, alas!
are being constantly singed, sometimes burned off
altogether.
Kenneth was not so stern as to object
to a little of what the world calls innocent flirtation,
but he did not like Bella’s style of procedure;
for that charming piece of wickedness made it her aim
in life to bring as many lovers to her feet as she
could, and keep them there. She never had too
many of them, never tired of conquering them.
In the language of pugilists, “One down another
come on,” was her motto.
She had just floored a captain of
dragoons, who was expected that day to dinner, and
was now engaged at her fortieth round with Kenneth;
but he was too strong for her - at least
she began to suspect so, and felt nettled.
“I never met with such a provoking
man as you,” said Bella, pouting; “you
promised to go round by Simpson’s and
bring me a bouquet, and now you tell me you had not
time. That is not what I would have expected
of you. Sir Kenneth.”
Bella had knighted him with the poker the evening
before!
“Well, really, I am sorry,”
said Kenneth in a deprecating tone, “but I’m
sure you will forgive me when I tell you that -
“I won’t forgive you,”
interrupted Bella pettishly. “You are a
false man. Nothing should have prevented you
from walking round by Simpson’s, as you said
you would do.”
“Indeed!” said Kenneth,
smiling, “suppose I had broken my leg, now,
would that not have -
“No, it wouldn’t have
been any excuse at all. You would have hopped
there if you had been a good and true man, like the
knights of the olden time. Oh! how I love that
olden time, and wish that I had been born in it.”
Captain Bowels was announced at this
moment. He was a tall handsome man, with a heavy
dark moustache and a set of brilliant teeth.
Bella instantly put the question to him whether, in
the event of his being interrupted in the fulfilment
of a promise to a lady by the accident of having his
leg broken, he would not deem it his duty, as a man
of honour, to hop out the engagement.
The captain expressed his earnest
belief that that would be his duty, and added that
if both legs happened to be broken, he would deem it
his duty to walk out the engagement on his hands and
knees, always assuming that the lady to whom the promise
was made should be young and beautiful, and that the
engagement did not involve dancing!
From this point Bella and the captain
of dragoons cantered off into a region of small-talk
whither it is not necessary that we should follow
them. They were interrupted by the entrance of
Colonel Crusty and Miss Peppy.
The former shook hands with the captain
somewhat stiffly, and introduced him to Miss Peppy.
“Dinner late as usual, Bella,”
said the colonel, taking out his watch.
“Now, papa, don’t begin,”
cried Bella, running up to her father and kissing
his cheek, “because when you do begin to scold
you never stop, and it takes away your appetite.
Dinners were meant to be late - it’s
the nature of such meals. No dinner that is ready
at the appointed time can be good; it must
be underdone.”
The colonel was prevented from replying
by the entrance of the footman with a letter, which
he presented to Kenneth.
“No letters for me!” cried
Miss Peppy, with a slight look of disappointment;
“but, to be sure, I’m not at home, though,
after all, letters might come to me when I’m
away if they were only rightly addressed, but letters
are never legible on the back; it is a perfect mystery
to me how the postmen ever find out where to go to
with letters, and they are such illiterate men too!
But what can one expect in a world of inconsistencies,
where things are all topsy-turvy, so to speak, though
I don’t like slang, and never use it except when
there is a want of a proper what-d’ye-call-it
to express one’s thingumy-jigs. Don’t
you think so, Captain Bowels?”
“Certainly; I think your observations
are very just, and much to the point.”
Kenneth Stuart retired to a window and read his letter, which
ran as follows: -
“Wreckumoft, etcetera.
“My Dear Kenneth - Since
you left I have been thinking over your affairs, and
our last conversation, (which you must allow me to
style disagreeable), in regard to Miss Gordon.
I trust that you have now seen the impropriety of
thinking of that portionless girl as your wife.
At all events, you may rest assured that on the day
you marry her you shall be disinherited. You
know me well enough to be aware that this is not an
idle threat.
“In the hope and expectation
that you will agree with me in this matter, I venture
to suggest to you the propriety of trying to win the
affections of Miss Crusty. You already know that
her fortune will be a large one. I recommend
this subject to your earnest consideration.
“Your affectionate father, George Stuart.”
“Deary me, Kennie,” said
Miss Peppy, in some alarm, “I hope that nothing
has happened! You seem so troubled that -
“Oh! nothing of any consequence,”
said Kenneth with a laugh, as he folded the letter
and put it in his pocket.
“Ha! your lady-love is unkind,”
cried Bella; “I know it is from her.”
“The writing is not lady-like,”
replied Kenneth, holding up the back of the letter
for inspection. “It is a gentleman’s
hand, you see.”
“Ladies sometimes write what
I may call a masculine hand,” observed the captain.
“You are quite right, Captain
Bowels,” said Miss Peppy; “some write all
angles and some all rounds. One never knows how
one is to expect one’s correspondents to write.
Not that I have many, but one of them writes square,
a most extraordinary hand, and quite illegible.
Most people seem to be proud of not being able to
write, except schoolboys and girls. There is
no accounting for the surprising things that are scratched
on paper with a pen and called writing. But in
a world of things of that sort what is one to expect?
It is just like all the rest, and I have given up
thinking about it altogether. I hope you
have, Captain Bowels?”
“Not quite, but very nearly,”
replied the gallant captain.
“Dinner at last,” said
Colonel Crusty, as the gong sounded its hideous though
welcome alarm. “Captain Bowels, will you
take my daughter? Miss Stuart, allow me.
Sorry we’ve got no one for you, Mr Stuart.”
Kenneth fancied there was a touch
of irony in the last observation, but he did not feel
jealous, for two reasons - first, he knew,
(from Miss Peppy), that the captain was no favourite
with Colonel Crusty, and was only tolerated because
of having been introduced by an intimate friend and
old school companion of the former; and, second, being
already in love with another, he did not wish to have
the honour of handing Bella down to dinner at all.
During dinner Miss Peppy reminded
Kenneth that he had promised to go to the Sailors’
Home that evening with the parcel which Mrs Gaff wished
to be delivered to her cousin George Dollins.
Bella remarked, in a sweet voice, that Sir Kenneth’s
promises were not to be relied on, and that it would
be wiser to transfer the trust to Captain Bowels, a
proposal which the gallant captain received with a
laugh and a sotto voce remark to Bella that
his fidelity to promises depended on the youth and
beauty of the lady to whom they were made.
Soon after the ladies retired Kenneth
rose, and, apologising for leaving the table so early,
set forth on his mission.
The night was calm and pleasant, but
dark - a few stars alone rendering the darkness
visible. Kenneth had to pass through the garden
of the colonel’s house before reaching the road
that led to the heart of the town where the Sailors’
Home was situated. He felt sad that evening,
unusually so, and wandered in the grounds for some
time in a meditative mood.
There was a bower at the extremity
of the garden to which, during the few days of his
visit, he had frequently repaired with the volatile
Bella. He entered it now, and sat down.
Presently there was a rustle among the leaves behind
him, and a light hand was laid on his shoulder.
“Faithless man!” said
Bella in a tremulous voice, “I have been expecting
you for half-an-hour at least. My portmanteau
is packed, and I only await the word from you, dearest
Charles -
“Charles!” exclaimed Kenneth, starting
up.
Bella uttered a suppressed scream.
“Oh! Mr Stuart, you won’t tell my
father? I mistook you for capt .”
“Hold, Miss Crusty; do not speak
hastily. I know nothing of that of which you
seem desirous that I should not speak. Pray be
calm.”
“Of course I know that you don’t
know,” cried Bella passionately, “but
you are capable of guessing, and - and -
The poor girl burst into a flood of
tears, and rushed from the bower, leaving Kenneth
in a most unenviable state of perplexity.
The words that she had uttered, coupled
with what he had seen of the intimacy subsisting between
her and Captain Bowels, and the fact that the name
of the captain was Charles, were quite sufficient to
convince him that an immediate elopement was intended.
He entertained a strong dislike to the captain, and
therefore somewhat hastily concluded that he was a
villain. Impressed with this conviction, his
first impulse was to return to the house, and warn
the colonel of his daughter’s danger; but then
he felt that he might be mistaken, and that, instead
of doing good, he might lay himself open to severe
rebuke for interfering in matters with which he had
nothing to do. After vacillating therefore, a
few minutes, he at last made up his mind first to
execute his errand to the cousin of Mrs Gaff, and
then consider what should next be done. He resolved
on this course all the more readily that he was sure
the mistake Bella had made would frustrate the elopement,
at least on that night.
Kenneth carried the parcel, which
Mrs Gaff had put up with so much care and anxiety,
under his arm, and a thick stick in his right hand.
He was so passionately fond of the sea and all connected
with it, that he liked to dress in semi-sailor costume,
and mingle with seamen. Consequently he went
out on this occasion clad in a rough pea-jacket and
a sailor’s cap. He looked more like a
respectable skipper or first-mate than a country gentleman.
Passing rapidly through the streets
of Athenbury, he soon reached the docks, where he
made inquiry for the Sailors’ Home. He
found it in a retired street, near the principal wharf.
A group of seamen were collected round
the door, smoking their pipes and spinning yarns.
The glare of a street-lamp shone full upon them,
enabling Kenneth to observe their faces. He went
up to one, and asked if a sailor of the name of Dollins
was in the Home at the time.
The man said Dollins had been there
that day, but he was not within at the present time.
He was usually to be found at the tavern of the “Two
Bottles.”
Kenneth being directed to the “Two
Bottles,” made his way thither without delay.
It was a low public-house in one of
the dirtiest localities of the town, - a
place to which seamen were usually tempted when they
came off a voyage, and where they were soon fleeced
of all their hardly-earned money. Sounds of
dancing, fiddling, and drinking were heard to issue
from the doorway as Kenneth approached, and, as he
descended the stair, he could not help wondering that
any man should prefer such a place of entertainment
to the comfortable, clean, and respectable Home he
had just left.
He was met by the landlord, a large,
powerful, and somewhat jovial man, whose countenance
betrayed the fact that he indulged freely in his own
beverages.
“Is there a sailor here of the
name of Dollins?” inquired Kenneth.
The landlord surveyed the questioner
with a look of suspicion. Being apparently satisfied
that he might be trusted, he replied that Dollins
was not in the house at that moment, but he was expected
in a few minutes. Meanwhile he advised that
the visitor should wait and enjoy himself over “a
pot o’ beer, or a glass o’ brandy and water,
’ot.”
Kenneth said he would wait, and for
this purpose entered one of the numerous drinking-stalls,
and ordered a pot of porter, which he had no intention
whatever of drinking.
Seated in the dirty stall of that
disreputable public-house, he leaned his head on his
hand, and began to meditate how he should act in regard
to Bella Crusty on his return to the colonel’s
house.
His meditations were interrupted by
the entrance of three men into the adjoining stall.
Two of them belonged to the class of men who are
styled roughs; one being red-haired, the other bearded;
the third was a gentlemanly sort of man, about forty
years of age, with a dissipated aspect.
They did not observe Kenneth, who
had placed himself in the darkest corner of his stall.
“Now, lads, we’ll talk
it over here, and settle what’s to be done; for
whatever we do it must be done to-night.”
This much he heard of the conversation,
and then his mind wandered away to its former channel.
How long he might have meditated is uncertain, but
he was suddenly aroused by the sound of his own name.
“We’ll have to do it to-night,”
said a voice which Kenneth knew belonged to the gentlemanly
man of dissipated aspect; “the young fellow won’t
likely go back for a day or two, and the old ’un
an’t over stout. There’s only one
man in the house besides him, and he ain’t much
worth speakin’ of; a groom, not very big, sleeps
in the lower part o’ the house. Old Stuart
himself sleeps in a wing, a good bit off from the
servants. In fact, there’s nothing easier
than to get into the house, and there’s no end
of silver plate. Now, what say you to start by
the nine o’clock train to-night? We’ll
get there by eleven, and have supper before goin’
to work. You see, I think it’s always well
to feed before goin’ at this sort o’ thing.
It don’t pay on an empty stomach. Shall
we go?”
Kenneth’s heart beat fast as he listened for
the reply.
“Wall, I doan’t much loik
it,” said one of the roughs, in a coarse Yorkshire
dialect; “but I’m hard oop for tin, so
I says Yes.”
“Agreed,” said the other
rough, who was evidently not a man of many words.
For some time Kenneth sat listening
to the plans of the burglars, and considering how
he should best frustrate their designs. He at
length made up his mind to return the parcel to his
aunt, say that unexpected and pressing business called
him home, and start by the same train with the burglars
for Wreckumoft. His intentions, however, were
interfered with by the abrupt entrance of Dollins,
who was drunk, and who, on being told that a friend
wanted to see him within, came forward to Kenneth,
and asked, “Wot it wos ’e wanted?”
Kenneth explained that he had been sent by a lady to deliver
a parcel, which he presented, and, having fulfilled his mission, was about to
return when the man caught him by the sleeve -
“Wot, are you Mister Stuart?
Jess Gaff wrote me a letter a day or two ago, tellin’
me you and yer aunt, Miss Peppy, as they calls her,
wos a-comin’ here, and would send me a parcel.”
“Never mind, my good fellow,
who I am,” said Kenneth sharply; “I’ve
delivered the parcel, so now I’ll bid ye good-night.”
“It’s just him!”
said one of the burglars in a hoarse whisper, as Kenneth
reached the door. The latter could not avoid
turning round at this.
“Yes,” he cried sternly;
“and I’ll spoil your game for you to-night.”
“Will you?” shouted the
gentlemanly house-breaker, as Kenneth sprang into
the street, closely followed by the three men.
Kenneth regretted deeply that he had
so hastily uttered the threat, for it showed that
he knew all, and set the men upon their guard.
He looked over his shoulder, and observed
that they had stopped as if to consult, so he pushed
on, and, soon reaching one of the principal thoroughfares,
walked at a more leisurely pace. As he went along
he was deeply perplexed as to what course he ought
to pursue, and while meditating on the subject, he
stopped almost unintentionally in front of a brilliantly
lighted window, in which were hanging a rich assortment
of watches, gold chains, and specimens of jewellery.
The gentlemanly house-breaker, who
had followed him up, observed this. A sudden
thought flashed across his mind, and he at once acted
upon it. Stepping quickly up to Kenneth’s
side he stumbled violently against him, at the same
time smashed a pane of glass in the shop-window with
his gloved hand, turned quickly round, seized Kenneth
by the collar, and shouted “Thief! help!”
at the full pitch of his voice.
The red-haired and bearded accomplices
at once responded to the call, came up behind, and
also collared him, while a policeman, who chanced to
be passing at the moment, seized him in front.
The shopman ran out in a frantic state, and at once
swore that he was the man, for he had seen him looking
through the window a moment before. The whole
scene passed in a few seconds, and Kenneth, thoroughly
taken by surprise, stood in motionless and speechless
amazement.
It is said, and apparently with truth,
that thought flashes through the mind more rapidly
than lightning darts through the sky. Kenneth
had only a few moments to think, for the policeman
was applying that gentle force to his collar which
was meant as a polite hint to “come along”
quietly, else stronger force should be applied; yet,
before he had taken the first step towards the police-office,
the extreme awkwardness of his position was fully
impressed on him.
He perceived that he should certainly
be locked up for the night and brought before a magistrate
next morning, and that, although his accusers would
of course not appear against him, and his friends would
be there to testify to his character and get him off,
the consequence would be that the burglars would be
able to start by the nine o’clock train and
accomplish their purpose while he was in jail.
It did occur to him that he could warn the authorities,
but he feared that they might refuse to believe or
act upon the statements of a supposed thief.
The occasion was not a favourable
one to correct or clear reasoning however, and as
the policeman had applied a second persuasive pull
to his collar, he suddenly made up his mind what he
would do. Grasping the gentlemanly house-breaker
by the waist, he suddenly hurled that unfortunate
heels over head into the kennel, tripped up the policeman,
knocked the bearded accomplice into the arms of the
jeweller, the red-haired one into the broken window,
and bolted!
Instantly a wild chase began.
The crowd that had assembled on the first sound of
the smash ran yelling after him, headed by the gentlemanly
house-breaker, whose fall had been partially broken
by a little boy. The accomplices were too much
damaged to do more than keep up with the tail of the
crowd.
At first Kenneth ran without regard
to direction, and with the simple view of escaping,
but as he neared the head of the main street he determined
to make for the house of Colonel Crusty. Being
fleet of foot he soon left behind the mass of the
crowd that followed in full cry, with the exception
of a few young men who were more of a match for him.
Ahead of all these ran the gentlemanly house-breaker
and the policeman, both of whom were strong and supple.
The roar of the augmenting crowd,
however, soon became so great that people in advance
of him heard it, and some of these made demonstrations
of a wish to try to stop him as he passed, but most
of them wisely concluded that it would be nearly as
safe to place themselves in the way of a runaway locomotive
engine. One man proved an exception. He
was a butcher, of great size and strength, who, being
accustomed to knock down horned cattle with a hammer,
naturally enough thought it not impossible to knock
down a man with his fist, so he tried it.
Standing in the doorway of his own
shop when Kenneth came tearing along, he waited until
he was within four yards of him, and darted out.
Kenneth had fortunately observed the man. He
stooped, without slackening his pace, to let the blow
delivered by his opponent pass over his head, and
drove his right shoulder into the butcher’s broad
chest. The shock was so great as to completely
check his career, while it sent the butcher back into
his shop, over his own bench, and prostrated him on
the carcase of a slaughtered ox which had been carried
in just two minutes before, as if to form a bloody
and congenial bed for its owner.
Kenneth instantly started off again
and doubled suddenly down a by-street which led to
the colonel’s residence. Here he was smitten
with a feeling of shame at the idea of appearing before
his friends in such a plight, so, changing his mind,
he doubled again into another by-street.
This chanced to be an unfortunate
turn, for the policeman saw him take it, and, knowing
every intricacy of the town, he was enabled to take
a cross cut by a lane, accompanied by several of his
brother constables, who had joined him by this time,
and by such of the crowd as were good runners.
The worst runners now came in for
an unexpected share of the sport in consequence of
this new turn of affairs, for the by-road conducted
Kenneth back to the main street, and when he debouched
into it he ran into and overturned a number of those
who had just made up their minds that it was useless
for them to run any farther.
The tide was now turned. The
head of the crowd came rushing back, led by the policeman
and the gentlemanly burglar. Kenneth thus found
himself between two fires, so, like a wise general,
he made a flank movement, crossed the street, and
darted down a dark lane. Here the crowd gave
in, but the policeman and the burglar continued the
pursuit.
The lane led to the suburbs of the
town, and the fugitive soon gained the open country,
which in that part was a sort of uncultivated moorland.
The excitement of the chase and the
suddenness of it had told upon the youth at first
so much that he had been somewhat distressed while
running; but this feeling now began to wear off.
Like a true thoroughbred, he improved in condition
the longer he ran, and when at last the perspiration
began to pour over his cheeks he felt as if he could
have run on for ever!
To some extent this feeling was also
experienced by a few of his pursuers, who kept him
well in view.
On passing over a rising ground which
for some minutes concealed him, Kenneth suddenly resolved
to strike aside from the high road and cross the moor.
It was sufficiently light, he thought, to enable him
to do this with safety. He was wrong, however,
for he had not run a hundred yards when he went splashing
into a boggy place, and his pursuers, who had again
caught sight of him, instantly followed.
The running now became very severe,
and tested Kenneth’s powers to the utmost.
Of course it also proved as hard on the others, and
he had at least the satisfaction of hearing them shout
and gasp as they tumbled over stones and into hollows.
Still they held on with unflagging vigour, until
they were almost exhausted and quite covered with mud.
To Kenneth’s relief he unexpectedly
stumbled on the high road again. Here he sat
down for a few seconds to recover breath on one of
the grey boulder stones with which the whole country
was covered, and while wiping the perspiration from
his brow his thoughts were busy. Having left
his pursuers far behind, he felt sure that he could
afford to rest for a few moments.
It occurred to him that even although
he should succeed in escaping, there was no chance
of his being able to get away by the train from Athenbury,
for the burglars and police would certainly be at the
station on the look-out for him. He remembered
suddenly that there was a station twenty miles from
Athenbury at which the ten o’clock train usually
stopped. It was two hours yet to the starting
of the train, so that he might count on nearly three
to get to the station.
“I’ll do it!” he
exclaimed, starting up with animation, and looking
in the direction of the moor. The pursuers were
now pretty close to him. They panted much and
ran very heavily. A quiet smile lit up Kenneth’s
countenance, for he felt his strength recruited even
with the few minutes’ rest he had obtained.
“Now, then, let the memory of
Eton days come over me,” he muttered, as he
tied his pocket-handkerchief tightly round his waist.
Pulling his hat firmly down over his
brows, he prepared to start, just as the policemen
and the gentlemanly burglar stumbled on to the road,
in a state of complete exhaustion, and covered from
head to foot with mud!
Kenneth could not repress a cheer
as he waved his hat to them and shouted farewell.
He then turned, and, stooping low,
sped over the country like a greyhound.
He had not gone above four miles when
he overtook a stout countryman in a smock-frock and
slouch-hat plodding heavily along the road.
A new idea flashed into Kenneths mind. He resolved to
change costumes with this man; but felt that he had no time to waste in talking
over the subject or explaining why he wanted to do so. He therefore
stopped abruptly when close to him, and said -
“My man, I’ve a fancy for your clothes.”
“You’ll ha’ to foight for ’em
then.”
“Very well, begin at once,”
said Kenneth, buttoning his coat, and suddenly seizing
the countryman by the throat with a grip that made
his eyes almost start out of their sockets.
“How shall it be, wrestling or fisticuffs?
But let me advise you to do it at once without fighting,
for I don’t want to hurt you, and I do
mean to have your clothes. Besides, I’ll
give you mine in exchange. There now, strip!”
There was a fiery vehemence about
Kenneth’s manner and look, and a tone of command
in his voice that there was no resisting, especially
when it was coupled with such physical strength, so
the countryman heaved a sigh and took off his smock-frock
and hob-nailed boots, while the supposed highwayman
took off his coat and shoes.
“That’ll do, you needn’t
mind the stockings,” said Kenneth, as he pulled
on his new garments. “You’ll find
that you gain considerably by the exchange.
That’s it; now here’s a sovereign for you,
my fine fellow, and many thanks.”
He finished by lifting the slouch-hat
off the countryman’s head and placing his own
thereon in its stead.
“Now, good-night.”
“Good-noight,” replied
the man, from the sheer force of innate politeness,
for he stood in such a condition of open-mouthed amazement
that it was quite plain he did not very well know what
he said or did.
In another minute Kenneth was again
coursing along the road at full speed.