# The King's Treasure

Extracted from the Chap Book 15 June 1895, pp. 124-147. A "Galloping Dick" story. Included in Galloping Dick (1896) as "Chapter IV: Of the Enterprise of the King's Treasure." A "Galloping Dick" story
THE KING'S TREASURE
   (Being an Episode in the Life of Dick Ryder, otherwise Galloping Dick, sometime Gentleman of the Road.)
'TWAS the narrowness of my fortunes, as much as my own giddy head, that leagued me in the business of the King's Treasure. I have always carried wise brains; there was never an adventure to my fist but I measured out its chances; and sometimes 'twas taken, though against all odds, and other times 'twas left for a foolhardiness. It was along of my mood. For the matter of that, we gentlemen of the road live no feather-bed lives, and it is our trade to forestall the assaults of Death. But this affair went, as it were, not only against my judgment but my will; and I make no doubt that I would not ha' taken up with it had it not been that my pockets were bare, and my head was singing with wine. Al together, at the moment, I conceive that the world and I were on pretty lively terms. But 'twas the leanness of my purse as drew me on. "My God," says I to Danny, throwing a crown at him, "and here's my last coin upon it." And there upon the spot the bargain was concluded; but the next day I was out of temper with myself. 'twas not the greatness of the peril that put me off, for I have never been stopped by a bloody point in all my days, but the truth was, that there was never a rascal of the whole pack of our fellowship that I would care to join hands with on an emprise of the kind. I was not for couples myself; I kept myself aloof; and me and Old Irons wore the best reputations upon the road, but in very different ways, as you may fancy. Old Irons was as black a rogue as you may conjecture, being bred up from a lad for cutpurse and wheedler, and entertaining any business as would fetch him in a guinea to buy a bottle on. Out of his drink he was as cunning as he was savage, but in wine you would not match his bravadoes in Hell. And, by a curious chance, it was this very man that directed me to the folly of the adventure when it fell too late.
'Twas Creech as had the information to start with, and took it from no less a person than Timothy Grubbe himself. "Aye, there you are," says Old Irons to me, "and who d'ye suppose is blind cuckoo enough for to walk into Timothy's net? Why, you, Dick Ryder," says he, "you and a chuck-head like Creech there." "As for that," I said, for I was nettled at his sneering, "I can see a point or two beyond Timothy Grubbe's back, and without even a wink from you'
"Rip me," says he, starting up, "d'ye think I could not ha' been in the job myself? And I suppose 'twas not Timothy as came wheedling of me with his rat's eyes, and clapping me on the back for a lord, and thrusting forth his tongue at the sight of guineas that a man of heart might take in a night an' he used his weapons briskly. Bah!" says Old Irons, "I trust no thief-catcher, nor no go-between, not till I pull my locks at the topsman." And this was true enough about Timothy Grubbe, as every man of us knew very well. There was many as owed the Jug and the Tree to that mealy-mouthed scoundrel, with his red eyes and his complacent grin. If ever the devil came to London Town, it was with Timothy's hide he covered himself. For it was his aim to stand in security somewhere half-way 'twixt us fellows and the Law, and squeeze the both; and but that he had the lives of scores upon his tongue, and was very useful withal at a pinch, both to cracksmen and to traps, he would have been hanged or pistolled for his pains long since. But, Devil or not, Timothy Grubbe was not a name to frighten me, nor was I to be lectured by a sot like Old Irons. And so I told him roundly; and then while we were drinking at the "Bull's Head," who should come up but the man himself. He stepped forward to us smartly, as though we were the particular game he was after, and, "Ho! Ho! Dick Ryder," says he, with his sickly grin, "and there's sport ahead, is there Dick? Pretty yellow coins to fill your pockets, eh? So, so, Dick; and you look full-spunked for business. What?" and he stood there wagging the head upon his wry neck, as though he had fallen prematurely from the topsman cart.
Old Irons said nothing, for he was mighty quiet when Timothy Grubbe was about; but I could not keep silence before a half-hanged, mal-faced mongrel like him. "And who are you, Timothy Grubbe," said I, "to come athrusting in your nose atween two gentlemen at supper? Does his Majesty give you that right along of the privilege to clap poor canters in the Jug?" He smiled more than ever, nodding his twisted head, but shot me an evil look out of his narrow eyes. "Ah, here's a wit," says he, "Here's a wit as the ladies of the Court have lost. A fine young gentleman, Captain Irons, and a fine clean job he made nigh Petersfield last week; and a fine entertainment, too, he will make some day upon Tyburn Tree, with the Ordinary a praying over him, and his heels a kicking in the air! 'Twill be a better sight than you will afford, Captain Irons, for all the little matter at Bedford, and Colonel Truscott's jade, that died a natural death, in course, last seventh of August. Why," says he, "I have known gentlemen of this kidney now for twenty years, and I'll warrant I never put eyes upon a braver figure than Dick Ryder. This is some nobleman's byblow, surely, Captain Irons," says he, addressing him but watching me.
"Now, damn you!" I cried, getting off my seat, "an' you have not the civility to quit yourself, I'll take leave to handle you."
Old Irons stuck out an arm to hold me, being turned very white in the gills at the references to himself, but I was all amuck with fury, and I drew a knife on Grubbe.
"Ha!" says he, not changing his tone, but keeping his eyes warily upon me and slipping dexterously aside, "'tis a mettlesome lad. I'll wager him against a shipload of his Majesty's officers." Then: "Put that down," says he in another voice, very sharp, but still quiet. I looked at him, and he burst out laughing. "Oh, fie, Ryder," he said, "to take a jest amiss like this! Come, my cock, come; put up that gully, and drink for me to a fine moon to-morrow evening. I'll warrant we all love a moon. 'Tis a fine sight to watch the heavens sprinkled with stars and to know that the Lord Almighty is upon His throne," and chuckling to himself over his blasphemy, he called up the landlord with some wine.
But though I was embarked upon this business, and that, as it were, in a kind of fellowship with him, I would see him burst ere I kept the knave company. And the truth was that I was now maddened to be linked with him, but I durst not go back upon Creech, as I considered coming forth from the tavern; and moreover, I had myself drawn Zacchary Mills into the same ploy, a lad of spirit, with a serviceable weapon, and a merry pair of lungs. And so it fell that we made the venture, as had been already agreed, upon the following evening. The coach was bound for Chatham with the kegs of his Majesty's guineas for the ships in that port, and first I must post down the road early in the afternoon to determine a position for our ambuscade. I reckoned to come up with the escort over Shooter's Hill, some miles this side of Dartford; and having marked the spot and laid out a rude plan, I rode on then to Dartford itself, where I pulled up at the "Pigeons" for a pint of wine. I had no thought at the first but to moisten my throat and be off, but the day was warm and the tavern mighty cool and alluring; and there I fell a-talking with a civil-mannered fellow, that was a chandler hard by. He was a comfortable old sobersides, of an affluent habit, and pretty well to do, as I suspected. He talked like a mill-stream, and, being on easy terms with the landlord, soon drew him also into the conversation; so that in a little there was the three of us discoursing together just as pleasantly as though we had been brought up from boys in a batch. The innkeeper, who was an affable man, fetched out a choice bottle for his crony, and having taken a fancy to myself, nothing will suit but I must join them. Nor was I loth to do so, for as yet it was early, and there was a dusty road 'twixt me and our place of assignation. And that, I suppose, with the good cheer and the undisguised admiration of the culleys, set me babbling rather plainer than was wise, so that in the end the chandler looks at me inquisitively.
"You have seen a deal of life," he says; "one might wonder, to be curious, what trade you might follow."
That shut me up in a trice, for I had been talking of bloody things I had seen adventured. "Ah, yes," said I carelessly, for I knew it was best to lead 'em boldly out of their suspicions, if so be they had already conceived any. "I ha' seen a damned sight more evil deeds than I could say. But when the Law says 'Mum,' why I says 'Mum,' too, as in duty bounden."
"Oh!" says the fat chandler brightly. "Are you an officer?" he says. I winked. "Hark 'ee," said I, "when silence is called, there best be no questions," and I nodded at him meaningly. "But an' I might speak of what my masters would fain leave in oblivion, I could tell tales as would astonish you. Why even to-day——" says I, and there broke off. "Bah!" I says, "my tongue wags."
"We'll ha' some more wine," says the chandler after a moment, and with extreme friendliness.
"Well," said I, for the whim ran into my head on the moment to set their fat eyes a-goggling, "if it be another glass, why I will not say no; but upon that limit I stop. D'ye understand? I stop," I said, bringing my foot with the stamp on the floor. "His Majesty's business can ill afford to wait upon any man's thirst."
"His Majesty's business!" cried the fat chandler, exchanging a glance with the innkeeper, and opening his eyes.
"His Majesty!" says I sharply. "I said nothing of his Majesty. Must you be putting words between a gentleman's teeth?" "No, no," says the fat chandler hastily, "'twas my mistake," and signed to the landlord to bring another bottle. When it was come he filled the glasses and put one to his lips. "Well," he says, smiling at me amiably, "Here's to the success of any business you may have in hand, friend; and I'm sure 'tis of importance."
"Ah!" says I, after a draught, and shaking my head, sagely, "You may say that. Why, if 'twere not for me that stands here His Majesty might be ten thousand guineas the poorer this night."
The chandler lifted his brows at the landlord again, and smiled and nodded, as though he would say, "We are getting to it now." I brought my fist down upon the bench with a thump. "Does any man tell me," I cried, "that I'm not the match of a dozen snarling rascals such as may chance to pounce upon his Majesty's coach this side of Chatham?"
"What!" said the chandler, starting. "Is there an escort to Chatham to-night?"
"Rot me," says I, feigning to stare at him stupidly. "Whose wits are wool-gathering that you gabble about Chatham? I know what I know," I says, "and I can hold my tongue with any man." "Yes, yes," says the innkeeper, soothingly. "Indeed, sir, 'tis so. You are a very discreet gentleman, I'll warrant, and a brave one, too," and the two fools regarded me with fresh esteem and wonder. But I was not disposed to juggle away the afternoon in the society of a pair of tabbies, and, truth to say, I know not what put me in the humour to fool them so, unless 'twas the wine, which was excellent, and for which they deserved some return. But already I was regretting my piece of sport; not that I cared two pinches for the simpletons; but 'tis a wise tongue that keeps the habit of silence. So making them my adieux, which, on their part, were very respectful, I left the tavern and rode back to our rendezvous at the "Joiners' Arms" in the little village of Lewisham. There I found Creech in a black mood, but Zacchary bubbling with excitement.
"We're on a lunatic job, and we're a pack of fools; that's what we are," says Creech with an oath; and with that I knew that he, too, had been talking with Old Irons.
"Well," said I, "'twas you put us on to it, Dan, and why in God's name do you change your tune at this hour of night?" For it angered me to see him whimpering and maybe setting silly notions aflow in the lad's head. But Zacchary, as it turned out, was game enough. "Come out of that, Dan," he says laughing. "Fetch out old Blood-drinker, and let's see his temper. Stab us all, Dan, but we're more than the match of King James's scum."
"There's sense," says I, well enough pleased, "and there's spunk too; and the sooner you come by your own again, the better for us all, Dan."
"You'll have your belly full soon enough, young fellow," says Dan with a sneer, turning to Zacchary. "'tis not the cock that crows the loudest as uses his spurs best. And as for you, Dick Ryder, you know I'm no white liver, and I'll trouble you to take back those words."
"Sink me, Danny, I'll swallow 'em whole," said I laughing, "if 'twill serve to set you in your stirrups again." But he looked very nasty, and so I took him by the arm aside, and, " Look'ee," I says, "Don't go for to spoil the spirit of Zacchary there. The boy's willing: and there's stuff in him to stop a regiment. And here's the moral of it. Why an' so be we have been damned fools enough to rattle the dice for Timothy Grubbe, why we're fools, and there's no more to say. But what's gone is gone, and to curl up with the mollygrubs because the milk is a trifle sour, is neither to your credit nor to mine. And that's plain," I says. He grumbled a little further, but seeing that he was coming round, I said no more; but that young bantam Zacchary, who was well primed with drink, must needs stick in his tongue in a gibing fashion.
"Let me rot for a corpse," he says, clinking his glass, "but I'd think shame to turn pale afore a small job like this, more especially after twenty years' service. 'Tis not my notion of business," says he, looking very scornfully at Creech. But I saw that Dan was scowling, and the lad was getting over-ripe with liquor, so I broke in roughly.
"Hold up there, you young swine," I said, "and let less go in and less come out at your mouth."
"Damme, Dick Ryder," says Zacchary, jumping to his feet. "I won't take no such terms from you, for all the fellow you think yourself. No, nor from a white feather, like Creech," he cries, returning again to Dan.
"Sit down, you fool," I said sharply. But Creech was on his legs too, and had his fingers on his pistol, and there was like to be trouble on my hands. I took Zacchary by the collar and threw him back into his chair, where he lay struggling with me. Creech was furious. "I'll cut the heart out of you," says he. "You muck-worm, you —— I'll slit your gizzard you ——." But this was more than I could endure, for Zacchary was struggling to be at Creech, and Creech was reaching round me to fall on Zacchary, and all because the one chose to take a fit of temper, and the other had swallowed more wine than was good for him.
"Curse you, Dan," I said, "I'm no watchdog to keep two fools from each other's throat. Drop that pistol," I says, "and shake yourself together, while I muzzle this bloody-minded young rogue."
Creech muttered, but dropped his hand, and I pinioned Zacchary with my arms. "By Gad," I said, "but I've a mind to split open that ugly head of yours. The Bedlamite I was to have bestowed a kindness on a numskull that does not know how to behave before his betters! And this your first job of any account, too!"
That seemed to sober him, for he stopped struggling and swearing filthy oaths, and sat sullen in his chair.
When we set forth, hard upon nine o'clock, the pair were both still very surly, but presently Zacchary's spirits rose, for he was but a raw hand with the temper of a boy, and the prospect of the encounter scattered his ill-humour. He said little, but whistled away cheerfully, forging on his horse ahead of us, as though impatient to be over the hill. Creech too was pretty mute, save now and then for an oath which he spat at his nag when it stumbled in a rabbit-hole. But when we had got to the crest of the hill and looked down upon the open stretch of land beyond, he pulled in, and says he with another oath, "There's a moon out."
"The better for us to pick, 'em off, Dan," I returned, laughing at him.
"Oh, damn the moon," said Zacchary. "Let's push forward and come to quarters."
"Softly, my young bantam," I said, "and where the Hell d'ye suppose you'll be finding your game by this?"
"Oh," says Creech with a sneer, "they're abiding from Zacchary Mills, that's what they are. They're all afraid of him and his barkers. They know his stomach for blood, they do. We ain't to do nothing, Dick Ryder, but to set down upon our haunches and see 'em put up their hands and cry for mercy to this fire-eater here."
"Hold your tongue, Dan," said I angrily, for I could see Zacchary's eyes gleaming. "Wait till we are finished with the job and then, if you come out clear, you can settle your jealousies together. I'll not interfere. But there's one road before us now, and that's what we must follow."
There was no further word spoken until we had rode down into the flat and come up with the spot on which I had pitched for the sally. The road here was bordered upon the one side by a tall hedge with a ditch and upon t'other by a strip of green marsh; and a little below this we took up our stand beneath a clump of elms for rather more than half-an-hour. Zacchary grew very restless, but Creech was stolid enough by now, only turning an eye on the moon from time to time and cursing her for a spoil-sport. And I will admit that she was an interference, for she was a full wheel, and the road lay in a white light, twenty paces before us, so clear that the shadows of the trees lay in a dark wavering mesh along it. But if a gentleman of the road must be hindered by the impudent accidents of the weather, he had best give up roaming and settle down with empty pockets afore a mercer's counter. By and bye Zacchary bent his ears to the ground. "They're coming," he says, and whipped out his pistols with glee. Sure enough I could hear far away a rumbling noise, borne down on the wind, which blew sharply from the north-west. "I'll reckon to take two on the first blow," says he boastfully.
"Stand by there," said I, brusquely, "and keep your bragging tongue quiet. What would you be up to?"
"Why," said Zacchary, "shan't we march up and cock our pistols at 'em?"
"Yes," said I, "and a shot in the stomach for us all. You fall back, Zacchary Mills, and leave these appointments to me. D'ye think they will pull up for the likes of your pretty face?"
"What shall we do, then?" he asked anxiously. "You best just follow me," I answered, "and no word or stroke till I give the signal."
And a little after that the coach drew into sight away at the bend of the road. Whereupon I wheeled round, and with Dan on my left, and with Zacchary clinging close to my right, cantered slowly up the highway to meet it. It came swinging down at a merry pace, and flashed out upon the open swamp into the brilliant moonlight; and just at that we put heels to our nags and rode forward at a hand-gallop. The coach was as plain as if it had been midday, and I could count the heads of the four as sat on the box with the driver; but from the speed at which we came up, they could never have suspected our design. And the first hint of the matter, as well as the first words on the occasion, came from the coachman, who, seeing as we did not divide to let him shoot through, shouted in a warning voice. But we took no notice. "Stand close," I whispered under my breath, and they both held in tight till the flanks of our horses grazed and brushed against each other. And then someone rose suddenly upon the box. "What the Devil," he cried, "where are you coming, you drunken fools?"
Now I know the way of drivers, and have never met one as was not for saving his horses, an' he could; and sure enough, as I had calculated, the coachman, seeing how we still rode on abreast for him, suddenly, and upon the instant, pulled the leaders across the roadway out upon the green swamp. The swiftness of this strategy, when they were in full speed, threw the horses into confusion, and they pranced and came back upon their haunches, backing the coach with a bump into a puddle of water. But the movement came a second too late, for Creech, who, sweeping along on my left, swerved out of line and ran his mare full face upon the struggling horses. The shock sent 'em all to the ground, and Creech in the thick of the melly; but I had no time to spend upon him then, for at that moment I put a shot in the coachman, lest he should do further mischief, and the next second the firing broke out.
The first thing I was aware of was a bullet through the cuff on my wrist, but by this Zacchary and I had been carried to the rear of the coach, and were using our pistols pretty freely. Zacchary knocked over a tall fellow that was leaning over the top with a blunderbuss, and ere his dangling body had time to fall off the coach, I sent a bullet through his neighbor. I heard, too, the crack of a piece from the other side, and guessed that Danny was at work. But the top was a bad place for a seige, and the culleys in their fury came rattling down to the ground, shouting and priming their weapons as they came. The first that landed came at me with a muzzle up, and I, having no shot left for him, must needs meet him with the toasting fork, which was an ugly case for me, if his excitement should leave him any aim. But at that very moment down came the clouds upon the moon, and the sky fell thick with darkness. I had spurred Calypso to run him down, and just as the blackness spread there was the noise of his barker, and flop she went upon her foreknees, rolling over in the dust. My shoulder came with a smack upon the road, but in a trice I was out of the saddle and on my feet, and ere he could draw his sword had spitted him like a fowl. Suddenly, to my surprise (for I thought she was done for), Calypso got to her legs, and with a whinney galloped down the road in a state of panic. But this was no time for considerations of her, and, in truth, I knew she would make for her old stables; so, gripping my iron, I rushed up to where Zacchary was being hard pressed by three stout fellows who, hacking at him with their points, were driving him step by step into the ditch. As I sprang forward it ran into my head to wonder where the Devil was Creech, for I had seen nothing of him since he had fallen in the collision, and he might be food for maggots by now. But there and then was the wonder answered, and, indeed, I might have guessed it sooner had I not been so occupied. For there were some ten or so of the escort to start with, and now but four remained, and of the dead I could lay but two to my credit, beside the coachman. Well, just as I pounced upon the nearest man that was swiping at Zacchary, a shot rang out, and slap he goes upon his face, wriggling a little. I turned at that, and there was Dan, sure enough, the white light of the moon, which shone forth again, striking on his black face, right in the middle of the frightened horses, and propping his pistol on the ribs of one that had fallen.
"Bravo, Danny!" says I, and stuck my iron through the ribs of Zacchary's second assailant. But thereupon, and while Zacchary was finishing off the last of 'em, I heard a sound behind me, and felt something tingle in my side. Turning about I came face to face with a sort of officer man by the coach side, with a red cut across his face, which maybe was some of my own handiwork. The point had slipped through my thigh, and had I not moved would, doubtless, have gone to my midriff. I turned mighty dizzy of a sudden, and I remember that his face went from me in a mist; I had, moreover, a sickly sense of wobbling on my legs. But by an effort of my mind I recall squaring myself on them, and then, feeling still that I was going, I lunged forward blindly. The sword struck him somewhere, and he went back upon his head under the wheels. I myself was carried with a bang against the coach, and leaned there, supporting myself vaguely for a moment, until I grew conscious that the vehicle was shifting. Then I drew off somehow, and opened my eyes. It was the plunging of the scared horses that was shaking the coach, and as I looked my gaze fell stupidly upon the fellow under the wheels, who was struggling to rise in a feeble fashion. The horses backed and jumped forward, and the wheels dragged over his neck, and after that he stirred no more.
Then it seemed to me there was a long pause. There was a cricket buzzing in my ears, and a flock of sheep came dancing before my eyes, surging up and down. But after a time I looked about and there was silence upon the night; and then again someone came running up against me, and I heard Zacchary's voice, crying in jubilant tones, "I ha' killed three, Dick," says he, "I ha' killed three," slapping me on the shoulder.
"Damn you," says I, "Keep your hands off me, you dung-fork," and then I burst out laughing. Zacchary's face was pretty plain by this time, and I saw him looking at me. "Ha' they done you?" he says. "Where's Creech?" says I, but Lord, I know where Creech would be, if he were alive; and there he was, for sure, rifling the pockets of the escort as lay dead. "Give me a hand," says I to Zacchary, "There's a bodkin through my kidneys." "We finished 'em off," he cries. "I ha' killed three," repeating the phrase in a silly, braggart way.
"You bloody-minded young knave," I says, "What the Hell is it who killed whom. Stand up there, Dan," I says, "and let's get to business."
"'Twas my sword as done it all," says Zacchary in excitement. "Keep your mouth, you young devil," I said, for I was fretted with my wound; and I jerked my elbow into his side for a reminder. Now, I was leaning full heavy upon Zacchary's shoulder, and my face was turned to where Creech was stooping among the corpses; when all of an instant the quiet was startled by a sharp sound, and Zacchary, loosening his hold on me, slipped to the earth with a groan. I fell with his body, which quivered under me but pulling myself up quickly stared at Creech. "What the Hell is this?" said I.
Creech met my eyes in bewilderment. "There's no one left," he says in a low voice. "Where did that come from?" said I. And just then by way of answer came another crack, and a bullet passed Creech's nose. "My God!" says he, and whisked about. There was the pause of an instant, and a third report sounded, and Creech staggered and then began to run with a shambling, tottering gait away upon the London road. But I stood staring. And suddenly out of the coach a black figure jumped hastily, and running round to the front clambered upon the box.
"Hell!" said I, and forthwith made for the coach as fast as my shaking legs would let me. The man had gotten the reins in his hand when I reached the vehicle; and I had just time to fling myself at a strap on the rumble when the horses plunged and reared as if under the whip, and the wheels turning slowly, the coach rolled on sideways for a few paces, and then lumbering upon the road, broke into a canter upon the road to Chatham.
Dangling from the leathern strap, I was bumped from point to point along the road, which was like to be bad for my wound, as I soon discovered from the growing pain in my groin, and a further seizure of faintness. And yet it passed my wits how I was to struggle up to the body of the coach, with it in motion and my strength running out on a tide. But as the job was fairly set for me, I was not the poltroon to give in without a wrestle, and so very slowly and very feebly I hauled myself up till my legs drew off the ground and my hands clutched the railing of the seat. By good luck my wrists held, and though I felt the muscles shaking like jelly in my arms I pulled myself higher still, until at last my nose rose over the level of my knuckles. And there I hung suspended for a time, with very quick breath, and a deathly sickness in my belly. But I was not yet in extremity, despite the ugly circumstances, and gathering my spirit for a final essay, I flung myself, as it were, forward into the air with a kick of my legs, and came down with my breast upon the iron rails and the rest of me stuck out over the road. After that it was a small matter by comparison to wriggle across the seat on to the coach-top, and here for full five minutes I lay athwart the cushions, sweating like a horse, and with the trees and the moon and the whole environing landscape rushing round and swaying in my head. But when I picked up my senses I settled down pretty comfortable in the seat and began to look about me and consider. The first thing I set eyes upon was the dark figure on the box, bent over the horses, and though I could make out very little, for the moon was in jail again, the turn of his back seemed somehow familiar. But now, when I had time to reflect, it appeared to me that I had run my neck into a damned foolish business. For here was the stage, with all the bloody marks of battle on it, and one dead body at least, as I could perceive, rolling about on top—here was the coach, I say, running straight for Dartford, with me seated there like a lamb for to be galloped along to Tyburn. Just as these considerations turned sharply in my mind, and I was vaguely revolving the chance of an escape from the quandary I had won at so much trouble, the man on the box suddenly pulled up the horses, and we came to a stop abreast of a patch of wood. The corpse that was jumping about on the roof settled down quietly at that, and I had only time to follow his example and lie flat between the seats as the moon shown forth once more, when the man skipped down lightly from his perch and coming round the coach opened the door. This proceeding tickled my curiosity, and by edging myself along I could thrust my nose over the roof and observe his movements. Then it was for the first time that the full design of this abominable plot was reveled to me; for the moonlight struck clear upon his face, and it was the face of that wrynecked scoundrel, Timothy Grubbe. I had well-nigh screamed out in my rage to discover his double perfidy, but I kept my oaths under and watched him closely. He scrambled into the coach and reappeared next instant carrying in his arms a heavy keg under the burden of which he staggered across the road into the brushwood. As soon as this was dispatched he returned and fetched out a second, which he proceeded to hide in the same way; and he repeated the performance a third time. By this it was plain that the lousy knave was concealing the King's treasure, and I could ha' ripped the vitals out of him and would ha' done it then and there, but that I was without a weapon of any kind and my wound would barely suffer me to sit up, let alone engage with a sound man like him. But when he had mounted the box again and drove off, no doubt in high glee, I'll take oath, weapon or no weapon, that I would have climbed over the roof and choked him from behind if I had had the free use of my limbs. Old Irons was right, and to be mixed up with a stinkard like that was a piece of folly for a boy. Why, it was for us dolts to settle the escort, while he sat comfortable in his hole, and never so much as showing a face in the fight. And when that was done, it was a pistol through the window for Zacchary and Creech and me, and the yellow-boys for him. This discovery sent me into a black choler, in which I would hear no suggestions of prudence for my own safety. I swore I would be even with him, if only for the blood of Zacchary. But the Devil of it was that here was me being driven into Dartford with never a word to say for myself. 'Twas true he was in ignorance that I set behind him, and this set me thinking, so that presently I had contrived a manœuvre to pursue when we reached the town. 'Twas hazardous, but, the Lord knows, I was less like to care for hazards at that moment than ever in my life.
And in this wise we rattled into Dartford, each of us I daresay, encumbered with strong emotions. Timothy Grubbe drew up before an inn, and descending from the box rapped loudly at the door. But as for me I took no heed of him after that, for letting myself in a gingerly way to the ground upon the other side I shambled off into the night. By good fortune that same afternoon I had noticed the office of the Justice, and thither I now made my way with my best speed. I could not forbear a grin to myself to think of me on an emprise like this, to confront a Justice in his own house. 'Twas pitch and toss at the best, I knew, but I would have the heart out of Timothy Grubbe somehow. So when I was got unto the Justice's door I knocked smartly for admittance, and presently you might ha' seen me hobanobbing with his worship, him all eyes and mouth, listening to my tale. "How many was there, did you say?" says he. "There was six of 'em," I replied, "and bloody butchers all, as this rip in my side will witness." "Poor fellow!" says the Justice kindly. "Pour yourself another glass," and looking at me out of his mild eyes with interest. "But you secured one scoundrel," he says. "Secured," says I, "yes; and that's the fact. Left for dead I was, as I'm telling you, and him standing over the poor dead bodies to filch 'em of their purses, when down comes my pistol-butt on his head." "You're a brave fellow," says he approvingly, "and this ruffian is safely bestowed in the coach?" "Well," says I, "and that's where he was; but, as your worship will perceive, I am all of a daze, and maybe the villain will escape his bonds, if so be your worship will not lay your hands on him forthright." "Aye, that I will," said he, "we'll despatch the rogue"; and, rising from his chair, summoned his men. But at that instant there came a noisy clatter on the door, and the Justice stared at me. "Why, who is this at such a time?" he asked.
I knew well enough who it was, for Timothy Grubbe was not the man to leave himself touched with suspicions, and I had already fathomed his cunning purpose; which, indeed, was why I had forestalled him. His worship went to the door, and presently I heard voices in the hall, the one of which I distinguished easily enough. And after a little, as I sat sipping my wine, the Justice came back, looking very perplexed. "Why, what is this?" he says. "Here is a fellow that brings a tale as like your own as may be, save that 'tis he is the hero." I started, and regarded him in an amaze. "Why," says I, "all was killed but me and the prisoner, and that I'll swear." We stared at each other. "What like-of a man?" I asked, in a low voice. "Why, a small fellow," says he, "with his head to one side." "My God!" I cried, feigning an excitement; "take him, your worship. 'Tis he, don't let him escape." "Why, what's amiss?" he says, surprised. "'Tis the man himself," I said. "Your prisoner?" he asked. I nodded. "Oh, my Lord," says the Justice, rubbing his hands, "this is fine news. He has given himself into our hands. You shall see him, you shall face him, and identify him"; and he chuckled. I chuckled, too. "Why, yes," I says, "I'll warrant I'll face him." With that, out pops the Justice, and soon after returns with Timothy Grubbe, sure enough, on his heels. "Perhaps," says he, "you will repeat your statement afore this gentleman."
I could scarce keep from roaring with laughter, to see Timothy Grubbe's face so suddenly aghast at me sitting there confidential. "Yes, that is the fellow," I said, "I'd know him among a hundred by his ugly neck." "Do you know who he is?" asked the Justice. "Well," said I dubiously, "As like as not, he would be that same black ruffian, Dick Ryder." "I've heard of him, I've heard of him," says the Justice, rubbing his hands again. But Timothy Grubbe was no fool, as I knew very well, and though he had started at the first, and had worn a frown of embarrassment upon his face throughout this colloquy, he was contained enough now when he addressed his worship.
"Mr. Justice," says he sharply, "I have no notion what sort of figure you play in this farce, but, whatever it be, I must interfere with your amusements for a moment and ask you to arrest this man in the King's name." His worship stared, and then laughed a little. "Oh!" says he, "That's it, is it?" Grubbe turned on him. "This man," he said, speaking in his harshest voice, "though the Devil, his father, knows how he comes here, was the chief of the gang that attacked and robbed the stage, as I have informed you." He said it so firmly, and with such an appearance of authority, that his worship looked staggered, and said nothing. But it was time for me to put in my tongue, if I was to keep my post. "Ah!" says I, very sarcastic, "and 'tis a brave bold tongue you ply for an audacious cut-throat. You have it all pat, as one would say. And perhaps you could swear to 'em in a court of justice; no one better. And I suppose, my fine fellow, 'tis me that's this same Dick Ryder, and 'tis you as had charge of his Majesty's treasure."
Timothy Grubbe looked at me, with lowered brows, out of his little red eyes. "I don't know what name you put yourself," he said in his rasping voice. "I have no such intimate acquaintance with gentlemen of the road. But I do know as I shall have you clapped in prison ere an hour passes. But why do you delay?" says he, suddenly addressing the Justice imperiously. "I have already asked you to place this fellow under arrest." His worship was very much disturbed. "Softly, softly," he says, taking a pinch of snuff absently. "How am I to judge between you?" "Judge," says Timothy with a sneer. "I warrant his Majesty will have a word to say upon judges when this incompetence reaches his ears." The Justice turned red. "Why——," he stammered and looked with hesitation at Grubbe. "Mr. Justice," I said, for I could see the case was turning against me, "I ask you to seize this man on a charge of highway robbery and murder." Grubbe gave me an ugly smile as though he had gotten the best of me now, and I will admit that I was a little afraid myself. "But there is no evidence," says his worship, frowning. "There is none to speak to the truth of either." And at that word all of a sudden I took a notion that sent the blood spinning in my veins and brought me to my feet very solemn and certain. I have always come out of difficulties upon the proper side, in some degree by the favour of fortune, but the more, I take it, thanks to my own ingenious wits. And here was the chance to turn to account an idle humour which I had till now regarded more as a piece of reckless folly.
"As to that," says I slowly, "there's plenty to speak to my identity, but it is an ill hour to fetch 'em from Town." Timothy Grubbe grinned. "Yet I am loth to keep your worship in suspense," I says, "and myself under so foolish a suspicion, and, faith, we'll e'en put up with a witness or two in Dartford, an' it please your worship." Timothy shot a sharp glance at me, and the Justice gave a sigh of relief. "Come," says he more cheerfully, "that is well; and we'll take the witnesses at once." "Indeed," says I, with my eyes on Grubbe, "if your worship will but fetch 'em out of bed, there's an honest chandler by the name of Tyrwhitt, of this town, and the host of the 'Pigeons,' that knows what my business was this day." "Tyrwhitt!" says the Justice, "yes, I know him—a worthy fellow. We'll have 'em both," and opening the door briskly he gave an order to his men. Timothy Grubbe scowled, and scratched his chin, with his evil eyes upon me. I sat down again, indifferent, and finished my wine. But Timothy said nothing, nor indeed did anything further pass between us three until the return of the messengers. When there was a rap on the door, the Justice stepped across. "Come in, Tyrwhitt," he says, "come in, my good man." But when the fat chandler was got in, and ere the Justice could say another word, the man served my purpose better than I could have anticipated. For he gazed about in a stupid, sleepy fashion, looked vacantly on Grubbe, and then his eyes dropping on me he blinked and gave a cry. "Well, sir," says the Justice, "do you know this man?" "Why, yes," says the fat chandler, brightening up, "'tis the gentleman as had charge of his Majesty's gold to take to Chatham." Grubb started aback, and made as though to speak, but was silent. "Ha!" says the Justice, "Now, it seems we are getting upon the scent." And thereupon he called in the landlord of the "Pigeons," who entered in some trepidation. "Do you know this man?" asked the Justice, now very stiff and formal. Old Jolly-boy looked at Grubbe and shook his head, and then with a glance at me, said in a public whisper to his worship, "'Tis an officer of his Majesty's, upon a secret service," and nodded mysteriously.
"Oh, ho!" said his worship with a smile. "Faith, I think we have it now," and he regarded Timothy sternly. "I think," he says, "my good highwayman, that the gaol-house is the place for you," and chuckled as if he had made a jest. But Timothy said nothing, shifting his small dark eyes from one to another viciously. "What!" says the inn-keeper, "is this a highwayman?" and retreated a step. The Justice nodded in good humour. "But won't be one much longer, I fear me," he says. "Faith, 'twas a matter I know much about," says the fat chandler complacently, "for me and this gentleman discussed it over our wine."
"Ah!" says the Justice with an approving glance at me, "a fine, brave fellow that, Tyrwhitt, whom I commend to your kind hospitality for his wound's sake." "Oh, I shall be well enough, your worship," said I, getting on my feet, "and I will e'en take the generous offer of any friend here for a bandage and a glass of wine more."
"And welcome," says the chandler, very warmly. But all the time Timothy Grubbe said nothing, only looking at me with a scowling smile. He was a reptile of spunk, was Grubbe, and no doubt he saw there was nothing more to be said that night. So he held his tongue; he was never one to waste his time, was Timothy. But I was not going to part like that. I would have an oath out of him somehow. "'Tis a pity," I said, turning to go, "that the rogues got away with the gold." "Aye, 'tis a pity," said the Justice. "I wish," said I, "that I knew where 'twas hid—in some patch of wood, maybe." The Justice nodded, but Timothy looked up suddenly, a flash of intelligence lit his eyes, and he ground his teeth fiercely and muttered, giving me a bloody look. I could not refrain from laughing at that. "Well," says I, "'tis a comfort to know that one rogue at least will take no share in the plunder." The Justice laughed too, and they all laughed; and upon that I got out of the house roaring with laughter. For I had left Timothy with that news to spend a very discomfortable night. But as for me, I was in high feather, and after patching up my wound, which the chandler's good lady tended, and narrating a string of adventures to the gaping ninnies over a steaming bowl, I crept out of the house when all were abed, and, mounting a nag which I found in the stables, rode without more ado to the little piece of wood in which the gold was hid. I distributed as much as I could carry in packages about my saddle, and having concealed the rest against a later opportunity, I set out in good spirits; reaching Maidstone early the next day, where I remained in quarters for a week or so.
H. B. Marriott Watson
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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