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 THE LIFE OF 
 
 RICHARD PALMER; 
 
 BETTER KNOWN AS 
 
 DICK TURPIN; 
 
 THE NOTORIOUS HIGHWAYMAN AND ROBBER; 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 HIS NUMEROUS EXPLOITS, ADVENTURES, AND 
 HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPES, TRIAL AND EXECUTION ; 
 WITH NOTICES OF MANY OF HIS 
 CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
 By HENRY DOWNES MILES. 
 
 — Honour, that spins 
 Fine curious parallels that never meet, 
 What says she then ? First, I must right myself; 
 And then, not wrong the publick— rare distinction 
 • %»•■» • • * • « 
 
 But each man's private good lurks in the publick • 
 Then each man take his part, and where's the evil? 
 Oh, but the publick is the storehouse I No : 
 Rather the jayl, that keeps men's private goods 
 Confined. I'll get mine out, and set the rest on fire. 
 My private pleasure is my soveraign good, 
 T'obey and gratifre each strong impulse 
 Of my ovin -vi'l, pop heed their jquljUbtsh cavils. 
 . it '. I \ . • Tho. Sacrifice), h 
 
 The Sacrifice, by Sir F. Fane, 
 
 LONDON : 
 THOMAS WHITE, 59, WYCH STREET, STRAND 
 
 MDCGCXXXIX. 
 

THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 
 
 It is not the intention of the writer of the following pages to disparage the pursuit* 
 of science, yet does he think that some little explanation is due to the render for Inn 
 choice of a hero, as well as his mode of treating his history. This ho feels to he th- 
 more called for from the pseudo-criticism pervading cur periodic literature — a disposition 
 on the part of our weekly and monthly scribes to write down that species of literature 
 now so prevalent and justly popular; which, taking some well-known character a.s 
 its hero, fills up the accessories of the picture from the stores of the writer's imagi- 
 nation. The class too, from which they have chosen their leading characters, appears 
 to hare shocked the squeamish taste of these fault-finding gentry. "They are 
 vulgar," forsooth! Nature is not nor ever can be vulgar— the vulgarity exists 
 nowhere but in the mind of the critic. Boz, Ainswonh, and (he great writers who 
 draw upon exhaustless human natiire for their powerful and truthful delineations, ar? 
 less vulgar than the inane writers of the silver fork school, who never condescend to 
 describe the actions of personages who are not entitled to a place in the Ccurt Guide. 
 This trumpery objection disposed of, we will approach one deserving more considers, 
 tion and respect, though equally erroneous with the former. It is urged by the 
 writers in some publications of higher scholastic pretensions. Their censures ar>; 
 directed against all writings of fiction whatever; and come from men who, with 
 unwearied diligence pursue the study of what they are pleased exclusively to ten., 
 nature, in the growth of a plant or the formation of an insect. They spare neither 
 labour nor expense to stock their cabinets with the dry bones of nature, whilst they 
 overlook the feelings, instincts, appetites and passions, which animate the whole- 
 They anatomise, they dissect the physical structure, but entirely lose sight of the menial. 
 Others of this class are stimulated to inquiry by every pebble that lies on the shore, 
 or every leaf that waves in the forest, and rejoice at the return of a comet or the 
 blooming of an aloe, more than in the birth of a Homer or a Shakspeare : air, earth, 
 ocean, the minutest objects of sense, as well as the greatest and most remote, are accu- 
 rately and attentively scrutinised ; but though these researches are laudable and suited 
 to the dignity and capacity of a reasoning being, it should never be forgotten that the 
 study of the mind itself is one of the greatest and surest means of enlarging out- 
 reasoning and reflective powers. Endowed with superior powers of sensibility and 
 understanding, mind claims to itself a duration when all around shall be destroyed ; 
 our senses are vigilant in collecting ideas from every part of the creation : memory 
 preserves them as the materials of thought and the principles of knowledge ; an. I 
 imagination, sedulous to amuse, arranges them into groups and assemblages ; and thus 
 by studying the passions, desires, and promptings of the human mind, though in fic- 
 titious scenes and circumstances, we instruct while we elevate, and enlarge while w - 
 strengthen our knowledge of our fellow creatures and ourselves. Shall we then a?:sei t 
 that works of imagination, thus exhibiting the everchanging features of our nature, 
 are less worthy of? occupying the attention than the insect produced at noon-tide anil 
 perishing with the setting sun 1 or less edifying than an investigation of the " JRether- 
 atiotherium" or some antediluvian lizard imbedded in a sandstone 1 
 
 As an agent, therefore, in rectifying our opinions and enlarging our conceptions of 
 human nature, we must study its operations in the conduct and deportment of others ; 
 and this can be nowhere so well done as in well-written works of fiction ; and those 
 too of the class which are denounced on the one hand as vulgar by the lack a-daisical 
 gentlemen of the modern novel school, and stigmatised as worthless by the utilitarians 
 who restrict the term science to their own peculiar pursuits. 
 
 We have, however, been led further a-field in these observations than we at first 
 intended, and shall therefore hasten to a conclusion by observing that, as biography has 
 been termed " history taught by example," the romance of real life may bo styled 
 taught by mature," 
 
 ■* ■* 
 
DI CK TOE 
 
 Dick Turpin chastises the insolence of Litton Weston. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Young, innocent, on whose sweet forehead mild, 
 
 The parted ringlets shone in simplest guise, 
 
 An inmate in the home of Albert smiled, 
 
 Or blest his noon-day walk — she was his only child. 
 
 Gertrude ef Wjrotn'ng. 
 
 Why did she love him?— curious fool be still 
 Is human love the growth of human will? 
 To her ho might be gentleness.— Byron. 
 
 Tt was on one of those beautiful evenings in autumn, when the slowly setting 
 sun seems loth to leave the land made joyous and fertile by his beams — when 
 the glowing tints of his departing rays linger as it were in the gorgeous 
 canopy of sky so soon to change into the bleak night of our early winter, 
 that an elderly and benign-looking old man sat before the first winter-fire 
 of the season, watching the cloud-paintings as they faded and changed from 
 tints defying the painter's pencil to the dull grey of evening. Near him, 
 in a pensive attitude, sat a fair girl ; her hands which rested in her lap 
 
. ... 
 
 « • • •. . « 
 
 «> . » . ...... * . 
 
 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 unconsriously toying with the bones and many-coloured worsted which, until 
 fading dav interrupted her, had funned her gentle occupation. Never did 
 mirror imaue a fairer girl than Esther Eevis. 
 
 The loose train of her amber-dropping hair, fell over a shoulder as rounded, 
 but uarr.ier and more lovely than Parian marble: her breathing lips were 
 unclosed, and her smooth, puie brow, where the blood slept not, seemed more 
 beauteous at ea'di varied feeling which memory, the fit companion of such an 
 hour, con ued up to "the thick-coming fancies" of her mind. 
 
 But if Esther was beauti u! in person, her heart was a fit jewel to repose 
 in so fair a casket. She was the kindest of human beings ; the very dog 
 who had once seen her, knew again the sweetness of her smile. The good- 
 ness and purity of her heart reposed on her countenance like sunshine ; in 
 short, 
 
 " Her face wag like the milky way i' the sky ; 
 A meeting of gentle lights without a name." 
 
 She loved all things, and all things loved her ; indeed so soft yet lively, so 
 buoyant yet caressing, so innocently simple, though blessed with woman's 
 shrewdness of perception, did the character of Esther appear, that the casual 
 observer -might be led to suppose that strength and shadiness of character 
 could scarcely be conjoined with such affectionate and feminine gentleness. 
 
 Time, however, and circumstance, which alter and harden, as well as bring 
 forth qualities and dispositions unknown even to their possessor, may show 
 latent and undiscovered features in the character of the gentle Esther. In 
 short she was a lovely and a loving girl of nineteen. 
 
 Her meditative silence, however, had lasted but a few mfnutes — though to 
 Esther those moments had been months, nay years, of her yet young life — 
 when her thoughts appeared to take an unbidden direction that threw a shade 
 on her fair face and dimmed her sparkling blue eye with a gentle tear. An 
 involuntary sigh escaped her. Her father turned from his contemplations. The 
 spell was broken, and the old man thus addressed his only and beloved child. 
 
 " Esther," said he affectionately, as if conscious of the tendency of her 
 thoughts and anxious to divert them ; '5J was thinking my girl — though 
 God forbid I should urge you against your inclination — 1 was thinking — " 
 and the old man paused ; " that you should at least remain in the apartment 
 when young Weston calls on me. 'Tis considerate and kind of him, in our 
 fallen fortune, to look in on his father's friend : besides, he is always respect- 
 fully distant, as far as I can judge ; unless something has occurred which I 
 know not." 
 
 " Father," said she, and her voice trembled as she spoke, " I pray you not 
 to question me. I — " 
 
 "Tut, tut: you are silly girl. Indeed," continued the old man, ha" f so- 
 liloquising, "I begin to think that Dare-devil Dick has turned her brain. 
 But come, Esther, tell ine — for I must have no secrets between us — how comes 
 it, that of late I hear so many sighs, and see so many pretty little true-love 
 knots in all the corners of your work?" And the good-natured old man 
 chuckled in approbation of his own acuteness and drollery. 
 
 Far different, howevei, was the effect of his mirth on Esther, to that 
 which it usually had. At the mere mention of the personage whom her 
 parent designated as '•' Dare-devil Dick," her countenance assumed an ex- 
 pression of pain, and ere the well-meaning old man had finished his jocose 
 euliy, the gentle gir'. burst iuto a flood of tears. 
 
s 
 
 "Hoity! toity!" exclaimed old Bevis, starting up with unaffected alarm : 
 " why I never saw this before ! why, what ails the girl, look up, my dear, 
 look up; it's y ur father speaks." 
 
 " Forgive me, dear father," said Esther, sobbing and hiding her face with 
 hf»r deUcatplv formed hands, " but you know not the feelings excited by your 
 ill-timed attempt, kindly though it was meant. Tut I will, I must, tell you 
 all ; I never had a secret from you, father, nor will I now." 
 
 She then proceeded to narrate «?ith all the energy and artlessness of truth 
 the adventure which that afternoon had befel her; and the cloud that hung 
 on the brow of the child was soon visible on that of the parent. As she 
 proceeded with her little narrative the blood rushed to the temples of the old man, 
 and rising from his chair he paced hastily the old-fashioned, though neatlv 
 furnished parlour. "The son of my old friend," exclaimed he, " behave thus 
 to a daughter of Ambrose Bevis ! Thinks he then that poverty and the loss 
 of wealth which makes men great in the eyes of the vulgar, has extin- 
 guished the virtue of our family! But, I will go to the manor-house, anrt 
 before the face of his father will I make the ruffian kneel to you, my dear, my 
 insulted daughter, and atone at your feet for the insolence he has been guilty 
 of — Sir Mark shall compel him to that at least ; but go on, you have not told 
 me all !" 
 
 But it is necessary to the clear understanding of this history that other 
 personages should be introduced on the scene. The object of the old man's 
 wrath, was Litton Weston, the only son of Sir Mark Weston, whose broad 
 lands comprised not only the snug thatched residence occupied by the Be- 
 vises, but the surrounding manor of Weston, including the village of Hempstead, 
 though these large possessions like those of many other old families were 
 deeply mortgaged. The good old baronet had been for some months confined 
 to his apartment by his hereditary besieger the gout ; a sore loss to the depen- 
 dents and tenantry of his demesne. The length and severity of this attack, 
 too, gave rise to surmises and misgivings as to the probable conduct of the 
 inheritor of the influence and honours of the venerable and respected Sir 
 Mark Weston. At the period of our story, the young Litton had exhibited 
 little but negative qualities : though somewhat ooarse in his amusements 
 and pursuits, his position and rank in the small circle of society of which 
 Weston Hall was the centre, were such as in a great measure to exempt him 
 from the censure of those with whom he associated. That this should pro- 
 duce in a mind inflated with the ideas of self-importance, impatience of res- 
 traint and violence where opposed, especially when unchecked by a knowledge 
 of the world, will surprise no one. We have said that his amusements were 
 coarse; on the day to which the narrative of Esther related, the young 
 Litton had, with a few of the sons of the wealthier farmers of the vicinity, who 
 felt proud in the association of the heir of Weston, attended a cock-fight in 
 the neighbourhood of Barking ; the excitement of the game, at which Litton's 
 birds had been particularly unsuccessful, together with the pecuniary loss it 
 involved, had by no means calmed his easily ruffled temper. Pride, however, 
 induced him to smother the anger rankling in his bosom, and he had endea~ 
 voured to drown his mortification in an unwonted quantity of wine, at an 
 early lunch given by a sporting lord who had been the principal winner on 
 the occasion. Such was the man, who, though unconscious of the inequality 
 of their position, and too proud to allow himself to entertain seriously* 
 the thought of an honourable alliance, had become enamoured of the genfU 
 
4 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 Esther. It may easily be supposed that he was not likely to find favour in her 
 eyes ; indeed the decided coolness with which she received his attentions, had 
 produced an undefined thirst for revenge in his ill-regulated mind, which in such 
 dispositions, is often strangely and incongruously mixed with a strong feeling 
 of affection. In fact, Litton felt his pride rebuked by the maiden dignity of Esther. 
 
 Riding slowly along a shady lane, where the beauteous foliage of the trees 
 already exhibited the delightful tints of the fading year, at a turning of the 
 read the subject of his disturbed meditation met his eye, advancing from the 
 village. A moment's pause of hesitation, in which he felt his cheek flush- 
 ing with a consciousness of the unworthiness of his thoughts towards the fair 
 creature before him — was succeeded by a determination to accost her, with a 
 vague intention of making an honourable proposal, and at once demanding an 
 explicit declaration of consent or rejection ; though the possibility of the 
 latter, in the event of his so far committing himself — for such he thought it — 
 scarcely crossed his mind. No sooner, however, did Esther observe him, than, 
 drawing on one side of the narrow road, she showed a desire of avoiding him. 
 This at once decided the excited Litton ; hastily dismounting, he advanced 
 towards her, and bowing commenced by some trivial remark. The reply 
 was short, but respectful ; and Esther advanced a few steps on her homeward 
 road, at the same time courteously wishing him good day. This was too much 
 for the temper of Litton. Following her with an unsteady step, he rudely 
 seized her by the arm. Turning her face at this unexpected familiarity, 
 Esther perceived with alarm the flushed countenance and angry looks of the 
 half-intoxicated squire. 
 
 "Unhand me, sir," said the maiden firmly ; "this conduct is disgraceful to 
 you." The confused Litton regarded her with a fixed stare of admiration ; 
 and unable to express feelings which were scarcely understood by himself, and 
 in which a desire to mortify the girl for what he deemed her perverseness, and 
 a desire to possess her, struggled for the mastery, he, relaxing not his hold on 
 the arm he still grasped, suddenly passed his other arm round the waist of the 
 affrighted Esther ; and, drawing her towards him, endeavoured to force a kiss. 
 " Help," cried she. Struggling with a strength that Litton by no means 
 reckoned on, she disengaged herself from his embrace ; and at the same in- 
 stant a young man bounded over a gate which opened upon the lane, and con 
 fronted the surprised squire. Anger was evident on the fine open countenance 
 of the youth; compressing his lips, and raising his right hand, which grasped 
 the three sticks which form the wicket of a cricketer, he advanced towards 
 Litton. A glance showed him how affairs stood, and quick as his perception 
 the blow descended. The terrified Esther rushed towards the new-comer, 
 but too late to interpose. She sunk panting on his arm. 
 
 The bleeding and stunned Litton lay before them. 
 
 "Oh! Richard! Richard !' exclaimed the maiden, " What have you done? 
 Alas ! you have ruined yourself, and " 
 
 " I have chastised a ruffian," said the youth, with an expression of deter- 
 mination in his curled lip, and a fire in his speaking eye, which made Esther 
 tremble lest further mischief should ensue. The prostrate squire raised him 
 self on his elbow, and the youth made a move towards him. 
 
 "Get up, coward !•' said he. Esther fell at his feet, supplicatingly. 
 
 " For heaven's sake — for iny sake, dearest Richard! desist — pray— pray — 
 quit this spot, dearest Richard. My behaviour was the cause of it all ! It was, 
 it was, indeed !" 
 
 The voung man thus adjur , casting a look of scorn at his antagonist, 
 
DICK TURPI N. S 
 
 which was returned by a revengeful scowl — for Litton, despite his sporting 
 propensities, dared not try a contest with Richard Palmer— turned his 
 attention to the half-fainting girl at his feet. Gently raising her, he led her 
 to a bank; and while paying her those delicate attentions which true love and 
 a warm heart prompt, the discomfited squire, rose to his feet, and, staggering 
 towards his horse, with some difficulty re-mounted. Before, however, he put 
 spurs to his steed, he turned in his saddle, and addressing Esther, said 
 bitterly: — 
 
 "I am obliged to you, madam, for your declaration in favour of that boy 
 
 there ; and I wish you joy of your chosen ; but, by , both he and you 
 
 shall rue this day !" Muttering curses between his teeth, he then rode 
 hastily off. 
 
 Esther and her lover walked silently to her father's house ; he was, how- 
 ever, from home ; and the circumstances here related, formed the subject of 
 the evening's conversation, which was partly given at the opening of this 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I saw an aged man upon his bier — 
 
 His hair was thin and white, and on his brow 
 
 A record of the cares of many a year; 
 
 Cares that were ended and forgotten now : 
 
 And there was sadness round, and faces bow'd, 
 
 And Friendship's tears fell fast, while woman wailed aloud. 
 
 Cullen Bryant. 
 
 Your eyes drop millstones, where fools' eyes drop tears 
 I like you, lads. Shakspere. 
 
 In the midst of an extensive track of gently undulating ground, in the 
 
 fairest part of the fertile and well-wooded county of Essex, stood the mansion 
 
 known by the title of Weston Hall. Groves of antique pollards, with here 
 
 and there irregular and sinuous ridges, or green turfy mounds, bespoke the vast 
 
 dimensions of its ancient chase or park. On a nearer approach, however, the 
 
 ground was clothed with magnificent timber; now dipping into smooth dells, 
 
 or stretching out into level glades, until it suddenly sunk into a deep declivity, 
 
 at the bottom of whose verdant slope stood the ha! ha! or barrier between the 
 
 Chase and the Home Park. A slender stream strayed through the lower 
 
 grounds of this enclosure, having found its way thither from a small reservoir 
 
 hidden among the plantations to the left ; and further in the open ground before 
 
 the hall, though much below the level of the building — assisted by many 
 
 springs, and restrained by a variety of natural and artificial embankments — 
 
 the rivulet expanded into a broad and beauteous sheet of water. Crossed by a 
 
 rustic bridge, the lake found an outlet to the level meads below ; and at that 
 
 still hour of early morn, you might catch the sounds of the falling waters as 
 
 they dashed over the artificial rockwork which detained the placid lakf at its 
 
 level ; while, far away, obstructed only by a few trees of giant growl h, the 
 
 serpentine meanderings of the slowly flowing stream might be traced glittering 
 
 like a silver thread in the early sunshine — whose brilliant beams, though 
 
 scarcely imparting warmth, tinged the many-hued leaves of the tall timler, 
 
 and penetrating the interstices of their foliage, fell upon the light wreaths of 
 
 vapour hanging over the surface of the pool. No livinjj objects presented them- 
 
 selves, save a herd of deer, crouched in a covert of brown fern, beneath the 
 
 shelter of a clump of trees, which stood apart from the main avenue. The 
 
6 DICK TURPIN 
 
 slanting rays tinged the gilded vanes and antique stone-copings of the extensive 
 and irregular pile, and the sparrow twittered from its ivy-clad walls, as bv the 
 path which led through the noble lines of beech and horse-chestnut, Ambrose 
 Bevis was seen slowly advancing towards the principal entrance of the mansion. 
 Well known and respected by the domestics of Sir Mark, the old man passed 
 onward without question, until he had reached the foot of the principal stair- 
 case, where he encountered Stephen, the trusty steward of the baronet. His 
 face wore an unusual gravity of aspect; and in answer to Bevis's enquiries 
 af.er his master's health, and his expressed desire to see him, he said — 
 
 " I fear much, Mr. Bevis, that this bout will prove too much for old Sir 
 Mark ; the doctor has desired him to be kept quiet — yet, as I know he always 
 wishes to see you, I will take up your name, and return directly." 
 
 So saying he reascended the stairs, and shortly coming back, ushered old 
 Ambrose into the apartment of his master. 
 
 Supported by cushions, carefully arranged, to procure for him as much 
 comfort as his painful complaint would allow him, reclined the invalid : at his 
 side sat his daughter Madeline. Bevis could not help observing the ravages 
 which age and illness had made on the person of his dear friend ; and at once 
 saw, that this was no time to agitate him with a recital of the outrageous 
 conduct of his son, and to distress him with any addition to the physical 
 suffering already too visible in eveiy line of his shrunken countenance. Pre- 
 facing his visit with an anxious and sincere enquiry after Sir Mark's health, 
 which was answered in a somewhat desponding tone, Bevis sat for some 
 moments in sympathising silence near his suffering friend. The invalid first 
 broke silence. 
 
 " Friend Ambrose," said he, in a voice whose trembling weakness alarmed 
 his listeners ; " friend Ambrose, I have of late thought much on your circum- 
 stances. We see more clearly the importance of settling our worldly affairs 
 when confined a prisoner, as I have lately been, so many tedious hours in a 
 sick chamber. One, too, that would have been indeed a solitude, had it not 
 been for my kind Madeline, your amiable daughter, and yourself. Old Mark 
 Weston, no longer dining with the foxhunters of his neighbourhood ; no longer 
 frequenting the racecourse or county balls ; is little thought of beyond his 
 paternal acres. Ambrose, you will forgive me the trouble I am about to impose 
 on you. By my will I have left a trifle to your Esther — a trifle more suitable 
 to my limited means than to her merits ; and I have appointed you guardian 
 to my Madeline here, in the full assurance that you will not let her feel, while 
 foil may live, the loss of a parent." Sir Mark paused from exhaustion : after 
 *. few moments, he continued : — " This is not a time to indulge in such anti- 
 ripations ; yet I much fear me, that when I am gone, the girl may need a 
 lome more suited to her than a seat at the table of my son and his associates: 
 nd where can I look for one so well as beneath the roof of my old friend 
 linbrose Bevis ?" 
 
 The unwonted exertion of so long a speech was too much for the feeble 
 fate of Sir Mark ; and, as he sank back on the pillows, a change came over 
 .is face which so alarmed Madeline that, hastening from the chamber, she at 
 nee called the physician, who was snatching an hour's repose, having passed 
 .e previous day and all the night in attendance on Sir Mark. The man of 
 rugs hastened to the chamber. The sloping sun fell on the features of the 
 latient as he at once saw, that the disorder having reached the stomach, but a 
 hort time remained ere the possessor of Weston must be summoned to th« 
 
t>TCK iriMix. ? 
 
 great account. Calling for the necessary restoratives, he so far resuscitated the 
 dying man, as to render him capable of understanding questions put to him. 
 The danger, however, being urgent, his son was summoned, which was at once 
 a signal to old Bevis to retire. 
 
 Perhaps it may be as well to take a glance at how the time sj-ent 
 in the interview here related was passed by the heir of Weston. 
 Smarting no less with mortification and unsatisfied revenge, than with 
 bodily pain, that unworthy scion of a respected line had spent the greater 
 part of the early morn tossing to and fro in his sleepless bed, devising schemes 
 for the mortification of Esther, and the infliction of his vengeance on her 
 favoured lover. These schemes appeared, at length, to have taken s;me 
 tangible form, for hastily ringing a bell in his apartment, he desired the 
 servant who answered it to send Dennis Sowton to him directly. Before 
 whose arrival, it may be as well to inform the reader who was the worthy thus 
 summarily called to the councils of his young master. 
 
 Dennis Sowton, more generally known by the name of Black Dennis, was 
 the breeder and feeder of cocks to the worthy Mr. Litton. He had the repu- 
 tation of being the most desperate poacher, previous to his present employ- 
 ment at Weston Hall, which the county could produce; and, unless common 
 rumour greatly belied him, he also gloried in being the most brutal ruffian 
 of the numerous hangers on of the cockfighting gentry. His appearance was 
 certainly as little calculated to make a favourable impression as his character. 
 His countenance, which had always been repulsive, was by no means improved 
 in its expression by the loss of his dexter eye ; an accident which had be- 
 fallen him while practising some of the refined barbarities of his calling on 
 an unfortunate cock. This defect, added to the remaining eye twinkling 
 beneath a shaggy eyebrow which projected far over its deeply-sunk orbit, 
 rendered him by no means a pleasant study for a painter. But as it is more 
 with the deeds than the person of Dennis that we shall have to deal, we 
 will content ourselves with this slight introduction. 
 
 He soon after arrived, and the worthy pair quickly appeared on that level 
 which accomplices in villany must ever be. Dennis was the more anxious to 
 replace himself in the good graces of the embryo baronet, from a feeling that 
 the bad success of yesterday's main had rendered his office somewhat preca- 
 rious. He therefore not only entered eagerly into the grievances of Litton, 
 who did not fail to colour his story with many declarations of his own mag- 
 nanimity and forbearance towards Palmer, but outstripped his pupil, by pro- 
 posing several villanous plots, which the other shrunk from even seriously 
 contemplating, much more carrying into effect. As he saw each plan rejected 
 by the more scrupulous Litton, he jestingly threw them aside; laughing 'fit 
 the same time at the exquisite revenue they would afford, if executed ; 
 and finishing by a declaration that he himself thought them " too bai," yet 
 could not help being tickled with the idea At length, a scheme was proposd 
 which both agreed would not only mortify the provid Esther, but by disgracing 
 Richard for ever, compel him to quit his native village, and leave the field 
 open to Litton. Scarcely, however, was this matured, when the latter was 
 called to the chamber of his dying father. 
 
 On entering the apartment, the old man feebly turned his glazed eye; >n 
 his son : Litton was affected, as much as it was possible such a nature could 
 be, and advancing towards his parent, knelt down besi !e his sister, as the 
 eld man motioned him to do. The nature of the interview may easily be 
 guessed; sympathy sat awkwardly on the low-minded Litton. He had all 
 
* DICK TlTviMN. 
 
 the inclination, but little of the tact to become a finished hypocrite ; am!, 
 although mechanically and uneasily submitting to the restraint which 
 so solemn a scene must have impressed on a rightly constitute! mind, 
 he spent the major part of the painful minutes which preceeded the death of 
 his parent, in a careful enumeration of the amount of worldly wealth which 
 the dying man would probably leave behind him, varied by pleasant menta 1 
 digressions as to how he would eclipse this or that sporting neighbour whef 
 he should become a baronet. Nor were his reflections occasionally without 
 bitterness, as he thought on the probability of Sir Mark's generosity having 
 led him into silly bequests tosundry grey-headed dependents, who in the estima- 
 tion of Litton, had certainly been for many years neither useful nor ornamen- 
 tal. He was aroused from this reverie by a deep groan ; the dying man's lips 
 moved as though in prayer ; feebly stretching forth his hands in a posture 
 of benediction over his offspring, he sunk back ; nor did he exhibit from that 
 lime forth, any sign of recognising those about him. Gradually as the day 
 waned, his strength and life seemed to depart, and soon after midnight, the 
 good old baronet, without groan or struggle, yielded up his spirit. 
 
 The amiable Madeline had been led* weeping to her chamber, and none but 
 the heir and the steward remained in the chamber of death. A sudden thought 
 shot across the brain of Litton ; he desired Stephen to withdraw. The 
 thought was a strange, but by no means an unnatural one, with a son pos- 
 sessing so little true filial affection as Litton Weston. It was more than 
 curiosity ; it was selfishness. He had heard hints, during the remonstrance* 
 often made by the deceased, that he should not leave Madeline dependent on 
 him. He had, moreover, some lurking distrust of the Bevises ; and as this 
 last thought recurred to him, he decided on anticipating the due course of 
 publishing his father's will by at least perusing its contents. More than 
 suspecting the place of its deposit he stepped softly across the apartment to 
 an antiquated cabinet of black oak, wherein, in an iron box, his father was 
 wont to deposit his most valuable documents ; yet, before he laid his hands 
 upon its. door, he gave a glance of furtive dread at the corpse, as though the 
 unconscious dead might witness the unworthy deed. After a long pause, how- 
 ever, shaking off the fear he could not help feeling creeping over him, he 
 opened the cabinet; before him lay the box; he raised it noiselessly, as 
 though he feared the dead might hear ; but what was his disappointment at 
 finding it securely locked ! He feared to carry it to his chamber, lest old 
 Stephen, to whom it was well known, should observe it in his possession. 
 For some seconds he stood in doubt ; at length he opened the casement, and 
 gently throwing the box on the lawn, resolved to examine its contents at a 
 more fitting opportunity. He closed the casement, and after a few minutes 
 of anxious listening, finding all was still, he ventured down the staircase. 
 Making his way to the spot where he had thrown it, what was his surprise 
 after a long and fruitless search, to be able to discover no trace whatever, 
 of the missing box. He stood paralysed; atthe loss of such documents, and 
 at such a time too, involved him in a labyrinth of doubt and painful conjec- 
 ture. It could not be lost. Yes ! there was the window, and hereabouts 
 it must, to a certainty, have fallen : — " I will search once more." 
 Again and again did he look in the direction of the light which streamed 
 from that silent chamber ; and with perspiration on his brow, he groped, now 
 with his feet, then with his hands, in the direction in which he felt sure he 
 must har^ thrown it. Wearied both in body and mind, he at length retired to 
 
DTCK TUR PIN 7 . 
 
 "'urpir before Sir Litton MY-jou on ;■ rinipgi 
 
 i* f>! i;i'l'L'l <rv. 
 
 his chamber with a determination to renew the search as soon as the morninjr 
 light should permit him. The few remaining- hours of darkness were passed 
 by him in uneasy pacings of his chamber : sleep was banished from his fevered 
 brain. Now the events of the day passed his mind's eye in rapid review , 
 anon his busy apprehensions whispered that some fatality would arise from 
 this mysterious disappearance of the unperused documents. He threw him 
 self on the bed, but rest came not ; and before the first streak of dawn tinged 
 the east, he was again upon the lawn ; but again were his endeavours un- 
 successful. No clue appeared to guide him even to a conjecture as to the 
 means by which it had so suddenly and unaccountably been stolen, for that it 
 had fallen into the hands of some dishonest person he had no doubt. Fatigued 
 with seeking, and wearied with conjecture, the agitation of his mind, combined 
 with the weakened stale of his body, for his medical attendant had abstracted 
 blood on his return after the previous day's rencontre, laid Litton on a bed of 
 sickness the day after his father's decease. 
 
 The news of the death of Sir Mark soon spread through the neighbour- 
 hood, and many was the tearful eye, and pious aspiration of the elder te« 
 nantry on his estate, as they related to their children, or younger relative*, 
 anecdt tes of the worth and virtues of the deceased. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
HICK TURPIK. 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Ah, not in youth's most blissful hours, 
 
 Are perfect joys displayed ; 
 They are but like our childhood's flowers, 
 
 Bright — but ordained to fade . 
 A lovely, yet ephemeral wreath, 
 That's faded by stem winter's breath. — Anonymous. 
 
 Yet be careful : 
 
 Detraction's a bold monster, and fears not 
 
 To wound the fame o' the worthy, if it find 
 
 Out any blemish in their lives to work on. 
 
 But I'll be plainer with you : had the people 
 
 But learned io speak, but what even now I saw, 
 
 Their malice out of it would raise an engine 
 
 To overthrow your honour. — Fatal Dowry 
 
 Thb funeral day of Sir Mark Weston arrived, and though every searcli was 
 •made by old Stephen, the legal adviser who had drawn the document, and 
 other confidential friends of the late baronet, no will could be found. Sir 
 Litton, confined to his bed — a fact which redounded highly to the credit of his 
 filial affection among the numerous friends of the family — expressed no feigned 
 anxiety at-the absence of the important parchment ; though, as may easily be 
 supposed, he was cautiously silent as to the real cause of its disappearance. 
 Nevertheless, though haunted with a dread of its discovery, he was in some 
 measure consoled by the reflection that, in consequence of the intestacy of his 
 father, he inherited, unquestioned, the whole of his property. Curiosity, for 
 few felt much concerned in the matter, however, soon subsided, and as clays 
 and weeks wore on, Sir Litton became easy on the subject, and all enquiry 
 ceased. 
 
 It is strange and melancholy to reflect how the death of an individual 
 frequently changes the aspect of the affairs of all who surrounded him, and most 
 of those who were his dependents. But few months elapsed from the death 
 of Sir Mark, ere the amiable Madeline quitted the seat of her ancestors to 
 reside in a home more congenial to her taste and habits than that of which 
 her brother had now become lord and master. Old Bevis too, scorning to 
 remain under an obligation to one by whom he had been so deeply insulted, 
 and more than suspecting, from his last conversation with Sir Mark, that 
 underhand measures had been resorted to in order to defeat his kind intentions 
 towards Madeline, his daughter, and himself, quitted the neighbourhood. 
 Indeed the pleasant dwelling he had so long occupied he could no longer 
 think of retaining on the terms on which he had held it of its former pro- 
 prietor ; and having about this time received a small accession of property by 
 the death of a relation he removed to a distant county. 
 
 In short, the notable scheme hinted at in the preceding chapter would Lave 
 fallen still-born from the brains of its contrivers had not the native malignity 
 of Black Dennis decreed that so " excellent a plot'' should not sink into 
 oblivion. His malicious nature exulted in the sufferings of his own species 
 as well as the brute race ; indeed, were it not that we should asperse the cha- 
 racter of the brute creation, we should have classed the worthy Dennis among 
 the latter. They at least connect not with their cruelty a consciousness of so 
 doing ; nor do they wanton in barbarities from a demoniac joy in their 
 infliction. 
 
DICK T^PIN. II 
 
 Not so with Dennis ; to him the sufferings of brute or man was a luxury, 
 and the knowledge of his instrumentality in their pangs, imparted a stern 
 satisfaction, a pleasurable emotion, to his soul. But if his plans were un- 
 scrupulously wicked, there was a caution and an ingenuity in their execution, 
 which displayed talents for villany of no ordinary stamp. Other motives also 
 spurred him on. Richard Palmer, though a stripling and much his inferior 
 in weight and strength, was, by common consent, esteemed the best cricketer, 
 runner, leaper, and single-stick player in the village. His superior prowess 
 in the three first named exploits, Dennis, though galled by the praises of merit 
 of any kind, might quietly have conceded; but in the last there lay a sting, 
 which roused his petty malignity. In more than one bout of this sort, had 
 the active Richard (for in these village sports there was little distinction of 
 persons) discomfited the wily and spiteful Dennis. It is true that on each 
 of these occasions Dennis had succeeded in giving his opponent an ugly or an 
 unfair blow, but the result of their last encounter had not only left him with 
 a broken crown, but in the rage of the moment he had attempted so foul and 
 desperate a mode of revenge, that the spectators had, by common consent, not 
 only excluded him from their diversions, but resolved that he should not on 
 any future occasion be allowed to enter the arena. This exclusion from the 
 only sport, except cockfighting, in which he took any delight, rankled sorely 
 in the bosom of Dennis, and he thirsted for retaliation. And now having 
 given our readers some insight into the feelings of this amiable personage, we 
 will turn to the object of his machinations, Richard Palmer. 
 
 Richard Palmer,* or as he was more familiarly called by his associates, 
 Dare-devil Dick, had resided from his youth in the pleasant village of Hemp- 
 stead in Essex, under the protection of a widowed aunt. He was the only 
 son of Captain Edward Palmer, a volunteer, who fell bravely fighting i.i that 
 extraordinary exploit of the great Earl of Peterborough, the taking of the 
 castle of Monjuich, near Barcelona, during the War of the Succession in Spain. 
 Thus deprived in the first years of infancy of a lather's care, Richard grew 
 under the too partial eye of an indulgent mother. His widowed parent never 
 recovered the shock of her early bereavement, and, after lingering three years 
 as a valetudinarian, she was removed to a happier life. It cannot be supposed 
 that the young Richard experienced much restraint during his first years from 
 one whose whole soul was centred in this sole remaining pledge of a beloved 
 husband, and Richard became a spoilt and wayward child. On this event he 
 was adopted by his aunt, on the mother's side, with whom he now lived. 
 She was the relict of a once-wealthy grazier in Essex, who«e property having 
 been invested in the notorious South Sea scheme, had, with the exception 
 of a mere trifle, been engulfed in the wide spreading ruin of that monster- 
 
 * The meagre biographies in the Newgate Calendar, and some other similar publi- 
 cations, represent our hero as Rich ardTur pin, the son of a butcher of good reputation, 
 at Hempstead in Essex. The name by which he was known, to which he pleaded on 
 his trial, and which was his real one, was Richard Palmer. The sobriquet of Dick 
 Turpin, was a travelling alias, taken after his exploits on the highway had made him 
 somewhat notorious. There is no trace of any Richard Turpin among'tbe registers of 
 baptisms at Hempstead, but of the Palmer family we find many. Richard Palmer, the 
 hero of our story, was born in the year 1705 ; and the butcher, or rather grazier, to 
 ■whom his birth has been popularly attributed was his uncle. His paternity is not 
 quite so clear, and we therefore deem it by no means improper to assign him a pa- 
 rentage equally as authentic and more urobable than his reputed one. 
 
12 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 speculation, which swallowed the estates, the fortunes, the savings of so 
 many thousands of families. 
 
 With this parent, for such she might be properly considered, he found him- 
 self, bo far as the wishes and caprices of childhood were coucerned, as little 
 checked as before. Can it then surprise any one, that he grew up a way- 
 ward and a wilful boy. Yet his gaiety of temper, attractive exterior, candid 
 manners, fearless daring, and boundless generosity of feeling, made him a 
 general favourite, and blinded completely his partial associates to the vices 
 into which all virtues carried to excess are, under the conditions of our frail 
 humanity, too prone to merge themselves. Wherever the weak was oppressed, 
 Richard Palmer was ready, with the chivalrous devotion of a knight of old, 
 to range himself against the aggressor, and so far did this spirit sometimes 
 carry him, as to involve him in very awkward dilemmas. Of an earnest and 
 vivacious temperament, Richard was endued with high feeling and sensibility. 
 Deprived of a mother before he could know half the value of her care and 
 love — before he could even appreciate the depth of her gushing tenderness— 
 her smile beamed only in his recollection : but the absence of this reality 
 conjured up in his ardent mind— possessed from infancy with but one fanciful 
 image— a phantom such as haunts the dreamer's brain of some scarce defined 
 object of his love. This unreal idol, peopling his imagination with a thou- 
 sand visions of smiles, tears, and looks of love, dwelt on as the memories of 
 childhood, and as fondly cherished, assumed, as manhood grew upon him, a 
 substance, a personification, a shape distinct and positive, and when in the 
 person of the beauteous Esther Bevis this object of his idolatry seemed to stand 
 before him, can we wonder that the long treasured emotions of years should 
 gush forth ; that he should devote himself to her, and that she, in maiden sim- 
 plicity aud single heartedness, should accept him ? 
 
 The departure of Ambrose Bevis and his daughter from the neighbourhood 
 of Weston Hall was one of those events, which, as far as the feelings and self- 
 knowledge of Richard were concerned, added years to his experience. His first 
 impulse on learning from Esther the determination of her father, was to declare 
 his intention of accompanying her, but he was at once checked by the recol- 
 lection of his dependent condition. This difficulty no sooner presented itself 
 to its full extent, than he at once felt how the visions of his romantic mind, 
 which had continually deluded itself with notions of retired enjoyment with the 
 mistress of his heart, were crushed and shattered by the slightest contact with 
 the stern realities of this working-day world. In short, he awoke for the first 
 time to the consciousness that he was without the position in society or the 
 worldly means to realise his hope of wedding Esther, and his was too generous 
 a mind to entertain even for a moment the sordid notion of marrying her with- 
 out possessing the power of bestowing on her the comforts of the heme from 
 which she must be severed. Yet, young and ardent, though such reflections 
 might intrude, they were quickly expelled by the air-built castles of his enthu- 
 siastic tempera.nent. He resolved to earn a position among men which should 
 make him not unworthy of the hand of Esther ; and she, artless and unversed 
 in the thorny paths of worldly trials, could not allow herself to doubt of the 
 success of one who, in her eyes, possessed such unquestioned superiority over 
 his fellows. His first impulse was towards the service in which his father had 
 fallen ; a natural bias it is true, but one from which not only the gentle Esther 
 attempted to dissuade him, but to which his foster-mother was decidedly averse. 
 Even these, however would hardly have prevailed with him— for his resolutions 
 
DICK TURPIN. 13 
 
 when once taken, seldom wavered — had not circumstance, of which we are the 
 mere puppets, ordered otherwise. On the evening of the day preceding their 
 departure, Richard was walking slowly in the direction of the residence they 
 were so soon to quit, when he encountered at a turn of the lane Black Dennis. 
 Since last he had the honour of meeting this personage, the fortunes of Dennis 
 had much improved. The newly made Baronet had, during his illness, decided 
 that cockfighting was beneath the dignity of the possessor of Weston ; and to 
 this conclusion his want of success had not a little contributed. Black Dennis 
 had in consequence become the head ranger of Weston Park, to the exclusion 
 of an old and trusty servant, who, though holding the appointment, had been 
 long incompetent to the active discharge of its duties. 
 
 The importance of Dennis, as well as his command of money, (for some- 
 thing considerable he well knew might be made out of such an office,) had 
 wonderfully increased. Those who knew his character did not scruple to whis- 
 per that not a little of the venison and game of Sir Litton would find a market 
 in Leadenhall, though few dared publicly to say so. 
 
 " Well, master Palmer," said Dennis, " so the old gemman and his darter, 
 I hear be about to quit ; may I be so bold, though perhaps it's no business of 
 mine, to ax if so be you're a going with them V 
 
 Black Dennis seemed to hesitate for a few moments, as if he doubted in what 
 way his proposition might be received, before he continued, " Well, master 
 Palmer, there are those that is rough outside as is none the worse inside than 
 the smoother ones. I al'ays liked you, and if there's any way I can be of use 
 to you, even though it's a matter of a few pounds or so, for I have them by 
 me, you shan't find Dennis backward." 
 
 Palmer coloured deeply at this proposal ; and, as he looked upon the ground, 
 half angry and half pleased, his wily persecutor's single optic gleamed with 
 something like satisfaction. He of course knew Palmer's temper too well, to 
 suppose that he would accept his offer, yet aware also of the warmth of his 
 gratitude, he doubted not that this cheap manifestation of his goodwill would 
 purchase his favourable opinion, and render him slow of belief of any reports 
 which might reach his ears to his (Dennis's) detriment. 
 
 The result showed the correctness of his views of the simplicity of Richard, 
 who felt humiliated at his position ; and though discarding the idea of laying 
 himself under any obligation to such a man as Dennis, he at once fell into 
 the snare. 
 
 Catching him by the hand, though somewhat vexed, he said, " Why 
 Dennis, you're about the last man 1 should have asked, so don't think I'm 
 going to flatter you ; yet I value none the less your generous offer. And 
 though I can't accept of it, I hope I shall one day repay you as if I 
 had." 
 
 Their conversation had proceeded thus far, and Dennis appeared about to 
 offer his services in some other shape, when Esther appeared slowly advancing 
 towards them. 
 
 " Two is good company when three is none ;" said the rough Dennis, fol- 
 lowing the direction of Palmer's eyes, "and so, Master Richard, with your 
 leave, I'll make myself scarce : good day t'ye, and happy may you both be ; 
 though I daresay you'll take care of that." 
 
 So saying, he walked away, inwardly exulting at, though despising, what 
 he termed the " greenness" of the young Richard. 
 
 The lovers approached each other — the eye of Esther was filled with tears 
 
14 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 and her look was melancholy. Richard took her hand silently, and kissed her 
 forehead, while a tremulousness in his voice betrayed the working of his 
 mind. <: Esther, dear Esther," said he, while she leaned on him for support, 
 "'though I hold you in my arms, — though each nerve within me speaks that you 
 are present — though, when I gaze upon you I see the same affectionate -look 
 you always wear — though I see and feel, and know all this — a dark oppression 
 weighs upon my heart. It is not superstition — but something tells me that 
 we shall not meet again like this. I know it is wrong for me to speak thus, 
 and at such a moment — but some irresistible impulse impels me. Will you 
 promise that when — ■ and he paused, as the thought of the unworthy 
 doubts he was expressing rushed across his mind. 
 
 ** Richard," said the maiden, relieving his arm of the burthen it had borne, 
 while her bosom heaved and her cheek Sashed ; " do you ask me if I will pro 
 mise ? do you then doubt me ? Oh, Richard, you do not know me if you 
 think a thousand promises could render your memory more cherished until we 
 shall meet again." 
 
 The youth felt ashamed, though gratified ; but the very temperament of our 
 hero forbad him to love without perpetually tormenting himself with doubts, 
 which, though for a time dispelled, involuntarily recurred, especially when, as 
 at the present moment, the thought of a long separation presented itself. 
 
 " Pardon me, dearest Esther, I will no more pain you with my doubts. Yet 
 you must not refuse me one favour; promise me — " and he again checked him- 
 self — then suddenly, as if discarding the train of thought he had been pursuing, 
 abruptly said, " Esther, I am tormented day and night with the thought that 
 we must part — I intend quitting home shortly, and, — " the maiden listened 
 with breathless attention — " should I be successful in gaining a position in 
 society; will you consent to be my bride?" 
 
 She withdrew not the haijd which trembled within his, as she replied, 
 " Richard, you know my heart well enough to spare me the pain of saying more 
 than that I hope you will, before we quit the village, see my father. He re- 
 spects you, I know — he has seen more of the world than either of us, and loves 
 us well — you'll speak to him won't you, — dearest Richard?" The last words 
 were added in a tone of gentle entreaty, for the mention of her father at 
 once suggested the painful reflection of his own dependency, which he natur- 
 ally euough expected would be prominently set forth by old Ambrose, and Dick 
 had no taste for lengthy exordiums. His countenance, however, cleared, to the 
 inexpressible joy of Esther, when he reflected that the consent he was about to 
 solicit, was contingent on the circumstance of his worldly success, on which his 
 sanguinary temperament fully calculated. But the conversations of lovers are 
 proverbially uninteresting to all but those who, in legal phrase, may be termed 
 the parties to the suit, and we shall at. once cut short our report of the plead- 
 ings, by stating, that Richard assented to the lady's proposition, and that the 
 result of the interview with old Ambrose, though a nonsuit for the present, 
 by no means excluded the plaintiff from the chance of moving for a new 
 trial on some future day. 
 
 They departed; and with them departed all the gaiety and spring of young 
 Richard's disposition. Heat once became moody and absorbed; his walks 
 were solitary ; and his former frank and hearty manner exhibited occasional 
 glimpses — more especially when his privacy was intruded on — of the fierceness 
 to which we have elsewhere alluded. Not a few of his companions resented 
 
DICK TURPIN. 15 
 
 this change as a sort of affront, and studiously avoided him ; but if they did 
 80, Richard certainly retaliated, by not only not seeking thern, but by repelling 
 their advances to reconciliation, and their attempts, by raillery or otherwise, 
 to draw him from his unsociableness, with angry asperity. 
 
 The popularity which Richard had hitherto enjoyed was, like that of greater 
 men on the theatre of the busy world, fast verging to utter extinction — if it 
 had not already expired — when another feature in his behaviour attracted the 
 attention of the gossips of Hempstead. 
 
 Of late, his journeys to London had been more frequent than formerly ; 
 added to this, it was reported that he had been frequently met at a late hour 
 wandering through the grounds which formed the Chase of Weston Hall. 
 These rumours, which owed their origin to Dennis and his associates, were or 
 course exaggerated, as the disposition for idle gossip, or the love of slander, 
 actuated their retailers, till the unconscious Richard — for those who are belied 
 are ever the last to hear it — had actually, without knowing it, earned the 
 reputation of an accomplished poacher. To confirm this impression Dennis 
 had many admirable opportunities : springes were set, and hares destroyed, in 
 various parts of the grounds adjoining the path which Richard often took, and 
 which led to the grounds and house lately occupied by the Bevises. 
 
 There would he sit, wrapped in speculation as to his future career in life, 
 and drawing fancied pictures of his success — forming a back-ground to each 
 varying scene of domestic felicity and love, the principal figure, of course, being 
 Esther Bevis. Need we say, that the air-paintings of one so inexperienced, 
 partook much more of the ideal simplicity of the golden age, than the harsh 
 unpleasant truthfulness of sketches from real life. 
 
 But we must hasten onward. Two or three months had scarcely elapsed 
 when Dennis thought he might safely commence operations on his rival, for 
 in such light did he view Richard. Returning through the Chase one moon- 
 light night, accompanied by his dog — a retriever, which he highly prized as 
 the gift of old Mr. Bevis — what was his surprise, the animal having lingered 
 somewhat behind, on a sudden to hear the sharp report of a fowlingpiece, (suc- 
 ceeded by a loud and painful yelp from his four footed favourite. He rettaced 
 his steps ; but scarcely had he emerged into the moonlight, when two of Sir 
 Litton's gamekeepers sprung upon him. 
 
 " So, ho !" exclaimed one of them, grasping him roughly by the collar, 
 " who have we here ? young Palmer, by the living jingo ! What, so it's you 
 as lays down all these wires, is it? I'll tell you what — " 
 
 Astonishment at this rude seizure had for the moment held Palmer motionless. 
 The imputation conveyed by the latter part of the speech of the man was, 
 however, too much for his hasty temper ; suddenly disengaging himself from 
 his grasp, he lent the keeper a blow on the head with such hearty good will, 
 as laid him on his mother earth. His companion instantly threw himself oh 
 Richard. He was a stout burly- built fellow, and the impetus with which he 
 commenced his attack at once brought himself and the young man to the 
 ground together. Palmer was undermost ; and the ruffian, who was practised 
 in encounters of this sort, twisting his hand in, his antagonist's neckcloth, and 
 placing his knee on his stomach, called loudly to his companion for something 
 to bind their prisoner's hands. At. this juncture Black Dennis approached. 
 
 " Hollo," cried he, " what the devil are you firing for at this time of n^lit, 
 when you know huw ill master is? I'm d — d if I don't think you're gone 
 mad. Why, Bob," looking at the prostrate form of Palmer as the two were 
 
16 OTCK TURPIN 
 
 busily engaged ill binding his hands, and pretending not to recognise mm, 
 " what the devil have you got. there ? I thought you was out a dog-shooting 
 by the cursed yelping ] heard." 
 
 " Why, I'll tell you who we've got, though I'm thinking you'd hardly guess 
 it," replied the keeper, panting ; " it's master Dare-devil-Dick, as has been a 
 setting of all these snares ; but I think we shall stop some of his journeys to 
 Lunnun, for some time to come. We'll a-learn him to strike a justice's keep- 
 ers on his own grounds.'' 
 
 " There's some mistake about this here, depend on't," said Dennis ; " 1 
 think I've a-known master Dick too long to believe as he's turned a poacher. 
 No, no ! If so be as master Dick had done anything of the kind it would 
 have been something of a better sort ; a good fat buck, or so. I'll 'gage 
 he'd never bemean himself to wire a long* There's some mistake in this 
 business, I'll pound it. Hows'ever, Sir Litton '11 have an opportunity of 
 settling that matter. What did you see him a doing of?" 
 
 " Enough of all conscience, Mr. Dennis," replied the keeper ; " when I 
 and Robert first came out this evening, master Dick here, had only just gone 
 by along this here way, — as we heared from the boy Sparks, he often does — 
 well, you knows what queer things people ha' said o' late, so we quietly fol- 
 lows him, but he warn't in sight by no means ; but going along, what should 
 I and Joe see but three or four wires, and presently two or three more, near 
 aways to where he had just gone along. Ho, ho, says I, here's mischief and 
 no mistake : we must look sharp after this young gentleman. So we keeps 
 watch till he comes back, as sure enough he did just now, and we sees his 
 dog — and nicely he's teached him to do it, let him alone for that — stay be- 
 hind, and presently on he comes agin with a summut in his mouth ; and Joe, 
 here, though I told him to wait and see what corned of it, couldn't stand the 
 temptation, so he let's fly, and drops the dog: whereupon my gentleman 
 begins a walking back the way he come, as cool as if nothin' had happened ; 
 we collars him, and a pretty smartish bout we've had on it I reckon, for he 
 fights like a born devil." 
 
 During this recital, the rage of Palmer may well be conceived. He felt 
 his heart rising to his throat, and clenching his teeth firmly, as if he feared 
 to trust himself to speak, maintained a dogged and sullen silence. ^ The keeper 
 whom he had knocked down, left the party, and shortly returned, bringing 
 with him the slain dog, and the hare which the animal had been carrying. 
 
 " See here, sir," said he, anxious to retaliate the blow he had received — 
 " here's evidence enough, I should think, to say nothing of how he tried to 
 get off, and the way he has marked me." 
 
 " Well," said Dennis coolly, and assuming the air of an impartial arbitrator, 
 " I'm sorry to see this ; but I should like to hear what you have to say to it 
 master Palmer." 
 
 " You promised," said Dick, "that you would serve me if you could. Wil' 
 you do it now ?" 
 
 " Why, I can't exactly say, master Richard," said he ; " but if it's nothing 
 unreasonable, I'll do it." 
 
 " Unbind me, then," said Dick, " and take my word that I am innocent — 
 however much appearances are against me. It is not that I fear the charge ; 
 but for more reasons than one I would wish not to come before Litton Weston; 
 he and I have a score to settle, and — " 
 
 * Snare a hare. 
 
DICK TURPIN 
 
 ir 
 
 Dick Turpin's conflict with Black Dennis.— See Chap. IV. 
 
 "Well, strike me sarcy, if that an't about the most modest speech I'vs 
 heared this many a-day. Litton Weston, too ; why I'd have him afore master 
 if it was for nothing but forgetting to put a handle to his name. You don't 
 think, though, master Dick, as we're green enough to let you go with such 
 axing — and so much civility too, as you does it with ?" 
 
 " Leave him to me, and hold your silly prate, will you?" interposed Dennis 
 in afTecfed anger ; " go about your business — I'll see to the prisoner. D'ye 
 hear me I" added Dennis in an authoritative tone, as the men's curiosity made 
 them linger. ^ 
 
 " Oh, very well !" muttered the man who had been knocked down, " if you 
 like to try a bout with him single-handed, it's no business of mine ; though,'* 
 he added, turning to his companion, as they walked away into the shadow of 
 the trees, " I should ha' thought he had had enough of that afore this time — • 
 but conceit's as good as physic for a fool ; and now Dennis is his worship's 
 head ranger, perhaps he thinks he's stronger — but he may find out his mistaka 
 though, for I'll pound it Dick don't get lugged quietly afore his old friend 
 Sir Litton" 
 
 No. 3. 
 
iS C1CK TUftPIW. 
 
 The two now stood alone. The pale moonshine gleamed on ths angry 
 face of the fastbound Richard, while the cunning Dennis Kept the play of his 
 malignant features concealed by standing with his back to the light. He was 
 the H st to break silence. 
 
 " I'll is is a had job, master Richard," sai 1 he, throwing as much friendship 
 into his tone as his harsh voice was susceptible of; "a cursed bad job indeed. 
 You see my duty to Sir Litton is sadly put to it to ob'ige you; f<r it 'ud be 
 as much as my place is worth if it was known as 1 shut my eyes to such pro- 
 ceedings.'' 
 
 Palmer's brow burnt at the imputation, and he interrupted him by saying— . 
 •f Do you believe those lying scoundrels, then ? Do you think that I am 
 so sunk as to rob any one, much less my chief enemy? Why, Dennis, if you 
 think so, t h 3 n — " 
 
 " Softly, softly, master Richard," said the other, " ycu picks a man up afore 
 he is down : didn't I say as 1 couldn't believe, and what's more, I wouldn't— 
 as you'd so little a mind as to snare such things as that ;" and he kicked the 
 hare, which lay at his foot, with contempt : " but you don't half know me yet. 
 I'd let vou go this moment and chance it, if I thought them chattering fel- 
 lows wouldn't let it come to the ears of Sir Litton." 
 
 " I should -be sorry," said Richard, "to get you into any trouble on my 
 account; but it is not fear of this charge — for I des' ise Sir Litton more than 
 I fear him — that makes me so anxious not to go before him ; I have another 
 reason, which I'll tell you at another time, that will make me your debtor for 
 life, if you will prevent my beiug placed in his power, by this unfortunate 
 combination of circumstances. Will you release me ? I believe I never let 
 myself down to ask a favour so earnestly before. You will do no injustice to 
 your master — for I call God to witness that I am innocent." 
 
 " I never was counted back'ards in doing anything I was bent on, much 
 less in serving a friend. You shan't be taken before him, though ;" and the 
 scoundrel without another word began with teeth and hands to unfasten the 
 rope which sorely galled the wrists of Palmer. 
 
 "There you ar«," said he, as he drew the loosened cord through his hands, 
 " I don't want the humbug of being thanked, so you may spare your breath. 
 I don't half iike those meddling fellows knowing about it, though. I wish I'd 
 ha' come first across you, and then all this wouldn't have happened. But what's 
 done can't be undone, and it's no use fretting." 
 
 Richard and his friend walked from the spot whilst thus engaged in con- 
 versation, and before they had proceeded many yards Dennis was not only 
 master of every circumstance of the encounter between the unsuspecting 
 Richard and the baronet, but had received it embellished with all the colour- 
 ing which the indignation of the excited narrator could supply. After warmly 
 sympathising with him, and repeatedly shaking hands, they separated 
 at the outer boundary of the Chase ; and while Richard made his way 
 homeward in no very enviabte frame of mind, Dennis bent his steps toward* 
 his lodge, and having, as if by accident, encountered the two keepers, he so 
 contrived to falsify the conversation he had just held with Palmer, as to leave 
 on their minds no doubt of his guilt. " Let him alone," said Dennis in con- 
 clusion, " he hasn't half run his course yet. I'll have an eye on him, though, 
 and never trust me if we shan't find him better worth taking before long's over 
 his head. I kuows these things well enough: when ouce a young fellow 
 
DTCK TURPIN. 19 
 
 begins, it's too pleasant and money-making a sport to be left off. He'll be 
 deeper in by and by, I'll warrant." 
 
 On the following dav the whole villaee of Hempstead, and, indeed, thg 
 nearest market-town, was not only fully informed of what had occurred on the 
 preceding nigh?, from a variety of sources, but with the most improbable ex- 
 aggerations: some of the village eossips avowintr that somebody 4hev knew 
 had seen the game which had been found on the person of Richard ; while 
 others, with an assumption of superior information, added, that Ihey knew 
 from the very best authority that the delinquent had only been discharged 
 upon the special command of Sir Litton himself, out of respect for the feelings 
 of his widowed foster-mother. Indeed all the rumours, h iwever wHe'y dif- 
 fering in other respects, agreed in this — that to the magnanimity and forbear- 
 ance of Sir Litton alone was the unquestionably guilty Richard indebted for 
 his escape from a transportation to the island of Antigua. 
 
 The more respectable villagers now avoided him : he however scarcely 
 noticed this: but brooding over the conspiracy into which he fancied the whoie 
 world appeared to have entered against him, increased his moroseness and 
 love of solitude. He thus played into the very hands of Dennis. 
 
 That minister of evil was not idle. The next morning he had an interview 
 with the baronet, in which he did not fail to impress him with an idea of the 
 actual guilt of Palmer. The little mind of the newly-made great man, con- 
 scious of its own turpitude, was but too ready to receive unfavourab'e impres- 
 sions of others. It is an axiom, whose triteness is equalled only by its 
 truth, that vicious men are ever the foremost to deny the existence of virtue 
 in others. It is a salve to their sense of inferiority — a balm to their uneasy 
 conscience, to be able — even though their judgment revolts from the truth of 
 what they would fain believe — to impose upon themselves the idea, that others 
 are as base as they feel themselves to be ; and thus Sir Litton, though but 
 half believing his scoundrelly informant, lent himself to the delusion, that 
 Palmer had indeed forfeited his good name — and joined in the exultation of 
 his fiendish menial, that before long there was every prospect of the utter 
 ruin of his rival. 
 
 Dennis was not slow in availing himself of the advantage lie had gained ia 
 having thus succeeded in prejudicing the mind of Sir Litton against his 
 intended victim. But a few days elapsed before he had contrived a piece of 
 villany by which he intended to put the finishing stroke to his plot, and which, 
 he doubted not, would end in completely destroying the already wounded re- 
 putation of Palmer; the nature of his scheme, however, and the artful method 
 in which he pursued his plan for entirely crushing his hated enemy,, must ba 
 reserved for another chapter. 
 
 i - 
 
90 DTCK TURPIN 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 West of this place, flown in the neighbour bottom. 
 
 Brings you to the place ; 
 
 But, at this hour, the house doth kepp itself — 
 
 There's none within. As You Like It. Act 3. So I. 
 
 There's no suspicion of my treason — Nothing! 
 The saint and devil differ in man so little. 
 Your open barefac'd mortals look as simply 
 As naked dogges, or new shorn sheep, exposed 
 To th' injuries and scorn of all mankind: 
 But I, like visiting angels, kill unseen, 
 Here I lye rounde and close as sleeping serpents — 
 He that treads on me feels before he sees me. 
 
 The Sacrifice, a Tragedy, by Sir Francis Fane. 1C66. 
 
 Is there a land whose face is studded with happier homes ; whose meadows 
 are greener, and whose homesteads were ("for it is more than problematical if 
 many are still unchanged) more replete with all the fireside-comforts which 
 make life pleasant, than " merrie Englaunde ?" The farm-houses of our 
 grandsires are, alas! now nearly gone — one by one have they vanished. The 
 sturdy '' franklein," who inhabited the dwelling and tiUed the acres of his 
 forefathers, who could say to his landlord, with the independent spirit of 
 competence, 
 
 The farm I now hold on your honour's estate. 
 Is the same that my grandfather tilled — 
 
 is now the being of bygone days. The " small farmer" is now — but we are 
 not about to write an essay on the causes which have led to these changes, 
 nor is it our province to speculate on their probable results — suffice it 
 for us that they have taken place. At the period to which we refer, the 
 house of a fanner, '• well to do," possessed not a few of those luxuries and 
 embellishments now never found in the naked and impoverished dwellings of 
 their descendants, the labourers in " the big barn," as Cobbett has aptly 
 termed them, of the monopolising landholder, whom the facilities of modern 
 intercommunication has enabled to sink to one dead level of misery and semi- 
 pauperism ; among these happy homes, few exhibited more of comfort and 
 independence than the dwelling and surrounding lands of farmer Lawrance. 
 The neatly-kept enclosures, the well-trimmed hedges, the stackyard with its 
 stoutlv-built stands, each burihene I with its load of wheat — the substantially 
 built barns, and lastly, the farmhouse itself — which, though straggling in its 
 outward appearance, possessed within an abundance of'' creature comforts' — 
 all spoke, even amid the desolation of winter, the wealth of its occupier. 
 
 It was market day at Romford, and farmer Lawrance with the more active 
 and able-bodied of the servants who assembled around the substantial fare 
 daily spread in his spacious oak-beame 1 kitchen, were with him at the fair. 
 Tlie only occupants of the house on the evening of this day, were an ancient 
 dame, the aunt of the farmer, and two servant-maids of his household. Law- 
 rance himself had taken ihe chair at the market-dinner; and his labourers, 
 well knowing the convivial habits of their master, hail resolved on enjoying 
 a few of the early hours of the winter's evening among the.r associates, the 
 farm-servants of the surrounding agriculturists. 
 
 The short-lived sun of a winter's day had set with blood-red hue, and was 
 toon followed by the rising gusts of a sullen and stormy night ; the hearth wa» 
 
PICK TURPIN. ^ 
 
 piled and the blazing log crackled merrily; the old dame sat in the ehiuiuey- 
 corner, and, in the social and unaffected communion which in by-past days 
 fostered and strengthened the love between master and servant, was by turns 
 amusing and terrifying the maidens with the legendary lore with which our 
 unread grandames used to beguile the hours of their weariness, when a stealthv 
 tap at the window, placed close beside the door, startled the trior. Margery 1 , 
 whose love of flirtation had kept mare than one rustic heart in a state of "sus- 
 pense and doubt, worse than a knowledge of the worst," at once concluded it 
 must be the signal of one of her many admirers. With a rising blush, she 
 hesitatingly inquired of her mistress whether she should unbar the door. 
 
 " It's Gregory come home, I shouldn't wonder," said the dame, " I'll war- 
 rant you won't see Tummus," for so she styled her nephew, " this side of ten ; 
 he's getting on bravely just now; and I wish we'd one of the lads at home, 
 I'd send him off on Ball to meet him : for he'll be tidyish noisy and queer, 
 if nothing wors^, before he leaves the Bull." 
 
 The knocking was gently and cautiously repeated. Margery rose. "Go 
 along, wench," said the dame, " I daresay Gregory has something to bring 
 him home so soon," and observing the colour on the girl's cheek, she added, 
 4, what the dickens are you maundering about, eh? The lad's a likely lad, 
 ay — ay — and old as you think me, I an't lost, my sight altogether. I remem- 
 ber when I was young — ugh — ugh — " and a tickling cough seized the old 
 lady at the recollection, " I remember — ugh — ugh — but open the door, wench. 
 When 1 was young — " 
 
 The recital of the old lady's reminiscences was cut short ; for Margery 
 having lifted the stout oaken bar, which formed the only fastening of the dwor, 
 from its staple, gave a faint scream, and scarcely had it reached the ea's of 
 the feeble dame, before three stout-looking men, with their faces covered with 
 crape, abruptly entered. The first seized the astonished Margaret by the 
 wrists ; the second, without uttering a word, presented two pistols at the 
 affrighted girl and her no less astonished mistress ; while the third, as if 
 well acquainted with the secrets of the place, went directly through the apart- 
 ment, and made his way to the parlour. In a corner of this apartment, the 
 only one in the house which boasted of a carpet, stood a japanned corner- 
 cupboard — which, when occasionally left open, as it sometimes accidentally 
 was, during the stay of some visitor on whom the Lawrence family desired to 
 produce an impression — revealed upon its shelfs the then rare and costly 
 luxury of a diminutive tea-service of blue and white China. Its upper shelf 
 also displayed a capacious punch-bowl of the same transparent earth, on whose 
 rounded sides and many-coloured pigments the eyes of many a rustic had 
 rested with admiration. Patches of dull-looking gold, blue-boats, ditto temples, 
 and ditto lakes, most unartistieally contrasted with the lilac face and rale- 
 red dresses of a set of most Chinese-looking personages, whose sexes it would 
 have been difficult to have discriminated, but that the fairer portion of the 
 pig-eyed, footless, company had each a slave as ugly and as epicene as herself, 
 holding a parasol, as high as the heavens, over her head, to screen her delicate 
 complexion from ihe evershiuing and shadowless sun. There a nymph (at- 
 tended by a slave) was being handed into a boat as long as her leg by a 
 swain also in petticoats, who considerately stood, so admirably was the law 
 of perspective observed, on an island of blue about a mile distant from Ibe 
 object of his attentions; while here in the foreground, with the listless sang- 
 froid of an oriental, a single boatman navigated the dry land with a small bark 
 
23 DlwH TL'KPlff. 
 
 containing a parish-church, a few barns, a pagoda, and some other light mw- 
 tellaneous articles ; aud,to complete the impression produced by these wonder* 
 af " far Cathay'' on the unsophisticated mind, aloft in air wheeled two mighty 
 doves, each larger than a pagoda, junk, or island, intended by the cunning 
 limner to image forth, by their endearments, the tender feelings of the loving 
 couple below: the kind spectator was to suppose them billing and cooing — 
 though their open beaks, mighty proportions, expanded wings, and general 
 action, left matter-of-fact persons in doubt whether they were about to kiss 
 or to swallow each other. Cut we have really forgot, in our reverie on the 
 punch-bowl, the oitical point at which our narrative has arrived. 
 
 " If we have any fault it is digression;" 
 
 ami as the consciousness of a failing is said to be half way towards its cure, 
 we will proceed. 
 
 The uninvited guest strode, as we have before said, toward the corner 
 cupboard, and found it securely locked. This was evidently no more than he 
 expected, for thrusting his hand into his coatpocket he produced a jemmy, and 
 at a sinole wrench the treasures we have described presented themselves to his 
 view. He had certainly small veneration for the arts, as he scarcely deigned, 
 as the gleam of his datk-lantern flashed across their glazed surfaces, to notice 
 the Chinese rarities above described. A basin and a small round teapot — 
 the fountain and scource of scandal to our grandmothers — for even they, good 
 souls, talked scandal, were passed unheeded : there was, however, one which 
 contained that " within which passed show." Gently raising the edge of the 
 huge bowl, the robber, as if well acquainted with the locale, peered cautiously 
 beneath; a grin of subdued exultation stole across all of his face that was 
 visible, as a small, cracked, and dusty vase met his view. This was clearly the 
 object of his search : he clutched it, and placing his lantern on a table close 
 by, reversed it on his other hand ; the dull metallic chink of gold met his ear, 
 and, after a moment balancing the small red canvass bag, as if to ascertain 
 its weight, he placed it in his breeches pocket, to which he gave an approving 
 slap. Resuming his lantern and his search, he rummaged every corner of the 
 receptacle, transferring to his ample coatpockets variolfs articles, such as 
 si'.ver-spoons, of antique pattern and workmanship, the gifts of godfathers and 
 godmothers to various scions of the Lawrence family ; two silver-cups, testi- 
 monials of respect from the neighbouring farmers to some of the Lawrences 
 for services duly recorded thereon ; and finally, he helped himself from the 
 mantelpiece to an old fashioned family watch, of about the dimensions, both 
 in diameter and circumference, of a garden turnip. He was evidently no 
 common thief, for he deigned not to set a foot upon the stairs, or to search 
 the upper rooms for anything they might contain ; but, as if he had satiated 
 his organ of " acquisitiveness," hastily returned to his companions in the 
 kitchen, and after sundry threatening gestures of most alarming and expressive 
 pantomime— in which presenting pistols, and drawing the edge of the hand 
 across the throat, in most melodramatic style, formed the principal features— 
 they bound the hands and feet of the three females separately, and finally 
 tying them together, left the house, without even the courtesy of wishing a 
 
 good night. 
 
 The unpleasant taxgatherers had not long departed, when Gregory did 
 indeed return, pretty well fuddled ; and after knocking at the window, as the 
 other gentry had done before, was not a little bothered at getting no answer. 
 
DICK TURP.N. ts 
 
 The fact was that the repetition of the ominous sound at once took away th9 
 power of utterance from the fettered trio, whose fears whispered them that it 
 was a second visit from the burglars, who had come back, doubtless, to finish 
 the job by cutting their throats, at the least, if not something worse. Gregory 
 at length grew tired of knocking, and never did reprieve sound more welcome 
 in the ear of a criminal than his rough exclamation in a voice thick and gut- 
 tural from the ale he had drank of — 
 
 *' I'm dang'd if I'll put up wi' this here ! [f noobody else com'il, 'a think 
 Margery ruought. Come oot some on ye, will ye, or dang'd if 1 don't bust in 
 the door.'* 
 
 Margery was the first to find her tongue, and the astonished serving-man 
 opened his mouth with amazement, as she cried, "Oh Gregory, we ha' bin 
 ruined ! robbed ! and undone — we're a' tied together and can't stir for the life 
 on us ! Oh Gregory, the robbers ! Get in at the window, Gregory, do 'ee— 
 Oh ! oh ! oh my poor wristes ! Oh ! oh ! oh !" 
 
 The fuddled Gregory could irake but little of this adjuration, save and ex- 
 cept the request to get in at the window : he therefore proceeded to the back 
 part of the premises and speedily effected an entrance, and proceeding to 
 the kitchen he saw a sight wh.ch effectually sobered him for the rest of the 
 night. Bound hand and foot, as we have before desciibed them, lay his mis- 
 tress, sweetheart, and the serving-wench ; while another cord, fastened to those 
 which bound each of their legs, was made fast to the stout leg of the oaken 
 dresser. Dra.ving his jack-knife he soon released them, and after a thorough 
 search of the premises, during which two of his fellows arrived, it was re- 
 solved that the two should convey the a'arm of the robbery to Sir Litton, as 
 the nearest justice of the peace, and raise the country in pursuit of the thieves, 
 while Gregory should hasten to Romford to apprise farmer Lawrance of the 
 disaster. The females, however, stoutly objected to being left alone, and 
 their pertinacity not only occasioned considerable delay, but ended in an alter- 
 ation of arrangements ; by which Gregory, at the suggestion of Margery, 
 remained at home as a body guard, while the remainder of the forces were so 
 divided as to be rendered little more than useless, seeing that neither of them 
 would have cared, had even the opportunity presented itself, to venture, single- 
 handed, on molesting the housebreakers. 
 
 The messenger who had been seni to the market-town returned in due time 
 with the farmer, who having sworn himself sober, and twenty times ordered 
 the saddle on his best h >rse, an 1 as many times been t )ld th at hisorders were 
 already executed, finished by deciding that, all had been done as could be 
 done, by sending to Sir Litton and the head borough. Then, consoling hmself 
 by declaring he was " g'ad it was no worse," and such like scraps of home- 
 grown philosophy, interlarded sandwich-fashion with soue scores of most, nmhi- 
 losophic oaths, he called for his pipe, and seating himself by the fire with a 
 humming tankard of brown October at his elbow, ordered the womankind to 
 bed, at the same time announcing his intention of sitting up to receive the 
 reports of the scouts he had dispatched. 
 
 We. must now teturn to Richard Ra'mer, of whom we have too long lost 
 sight. It has before been stated that the spot he usually selected for his me- 
 di ations was an arbour in the garden belonging to the house of the Reavises. 
 One evening, on approaching the entrance to this favourite spot, he observed 
 two strangers advance towards him from the side of the rustic house, who, 
 hefore he had time to recover his surprise, seized him each by an arm, and 
 
%4 DICK TCRPIN. 
 
 dexterously slipping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, then, but not ti'l then, 
 condescended to inform him that they were officers. 
 
 " D'ye see, young gentleman ;" said the elder, a red-faced and somewhat 
 corpulent looking fellow, with twinkling eyes and legs bandy as a turnspit : 
 *• D'ye see, yonn«* gentleman, as we Lunnoners are awake to a trick or two I 
 You're a likely lad though, but rather soft, I'm thinking, to come so soon 
 arter the swag. You didn't think as Lunnon traps was as blind as yer yokels, 
 did yer ? I fancy as how you'd better have made it right with us, and then, 
 p'rhaps — " 
 
 « With what crime am I charged?" said Palmer : " you shall smart for this, 
 you scoundrels ;" and struggling he in vain twisted his manacled wrists. 
 
 " Soho ! gently does it ;" said the one who had before spoken. I* Don't be 
 bo restive, my trump ; I've taken many a better man nor you, clever as you 
 think yerself.— Wo ho!— softly!" 
 
 The' two officers pressed his elbows close to his sides, while the assistant 
 passed a cord behind his back and pinioned them. 
 
 " It's no go !" continued he, " playing the innocent ; we're too downey, my 
 cove ; so put us fly to what you've done with the rest on it, and, may be, you 
 may get another squeak, if so be as the wictim is tender-hearted." 
 
 While thus speaking, the two London thieftakers were joined by the 
 Hempstead headborough and his assistant, and the former, consigning their 
 prisoner to the care of his country associates, on whose countenances pity for 
 his condition was legibly written, proceeded at once to dig up the earth which 
 f.rmed the floor of the arbour. Richard regarded them with fixed attention : 
 the ground had evidently been recently disturbed, and the whole truth at once 
 flashed upon his mind, when the officer, pulling a small bundle from the hole, 
 the envelope of which was a cast-off shooting jacket of Palmer's, unrolled it, 
 and giving a knowing wink at him, disclosed to his view a number of article! 
 of silver plate. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said he, with a chuckle, " you yokels thinks yerselves spicy coves, 
 but it's the brown suit ven yer comes ath'art an ould one. It's a pi'y too, as 
 sich a smart young chap as I'd take yer to be by the cut of yer jib, should 
 mount a 'oss foaled by a acorn,* for sich a shabby piece of pannyf work as 
 this here. I should'nt vunder," observed he, addressing his companion, " but 
 vhh good edicating he might be vorth snitching% on. Vy, lord bless yer, the 
 vally of this shabby lot ar'n't vorth shoving the tumbler^ for, let alone scrag- 
 
 With these professional reflections, the officer, accompanied by the con- 
 stables and their prisoner, walked slowly towards Weston Hall. The news of 
 the capture of one of the burglars spread like wildfire among the domestics, 
 and Palmer saw with sullen rage, the crowd of servants and idlers who waited 
 his coming. Sir Litton also, apprised of the affair, determined that the dig- 
 nity of a justice of the peace should not suffer in his person, had prepared for 
 the important occasion by seating himself in the magisterial chair and investing 
 his person with the flowered robe in which the good Sir Mark had so often 
 dispensed justice tempered with mercy, in the petty cases of his neighbours and 
 tenantry. At the table which was covered with green baize, and decorated 
 for the occasion with a huge silver inkstand and a few plethoric-looking law- 
 books, sat Octavius Sheepshanks, Gent., One, &c, a pert, pragmatical, tuft- 
 
 « The gallows. f Burglary. X Informing. $ Whipped at the carfa teil. 
 
DICK TURPI N 
 
 25 
 
 Head Quarters of the Highwaymen— a Scene at the " While Hail." 
 
 hunting, parasitical limb of the law, who, with an eye to business and a gooJ 
 dinner, had dropped in at the Hall, and volunteered his service^ 8J clerk upon 
 the occasion. The imposing arrangements being completed, the prisoner was 
 ordered to be introduced. 
 
 The interval had been passed by him in the most poignant humiliation. 
 Around him in the hall had assembled the household, intermingled with many 
 of the villagers, whose faces were familiar to him on occasions when each 
 and all of them wore an expression of admiration, or the smile of friendly 
 approval, now exchanged for looks of pity or contempt. The bitterness of 
 his situation was enhanced too, by the murmured sympathy of the womankind — 
 among whom Richard was, as mar easily be supposed, an especial favourite ; 
 and many was the bright eye that, after gazing with wondering compassion 
 on thp manacled hands and stern desperation exhibited by the prisoner, turned 
 tearfully away, in pitying admiration of the " nice young fellow." 
 
 Tha kind heart of woman is ever susceptible, and once or twice the coun- 
 tenance of Richard brightened as some warmhearted country-wee.ch expressed 
 aloud her determination — for a woman, when her feelings are appealed to, 
 scorns to reason — " that nothing should make her think as master Uick ever 
 could be brought for to do anythink of the sort ;'" and while the men looked 
 on in stolid stupiditv, more than one female voice bade him be of w good cheer,' 
 No. 4. 
 
until the door of the justice-chamber closed, excluding all but the officers, the 
 witnesses, and the prisoner. 
 
 Sir Litton, despite his assumption of gravity, started, and sat uneasily in 
 his chair on recognising in the prisoner his late antagonist ; for the wily 
 Dennis had taken every precaution to avoid appearing in the slightest degree 
 connected with his apprehension. The discovery disconcerted the baronet. 
 Prefacing his question with an authoritative " hem !" he, in rather a hurried 
 manner, opened the proceedings by demanding the name and calling of tbe 
 prisoner. 
 
 The pert little lawyer interposed. "Allow me to suggest — most defer- 
 entially, Sir Litton, as amicus curice — the propriety of proceeding according 
 to the rules and forms observed on these occasions. It is, my dear Sir Litton, 
 in some measure indispensable, as I have before said, (though this was the 
 first time he had spoken,) that the formalities of legal proceedings should be 
 observed. I would most respectfully observe, most worthy sir, that there is 
 an informality in the method of beginning by putting questions to the prisoner, 
 who, according to the legal maxim — nemo sese criminate obligatus est — is 
 by no means bound to answer questions which may tend in anywise to crimi- 
 nate himself — or the answers to which may possibly be used against him in 
 another place upon another occasion. We will therefore, (if it be your good 
 pleasure,) proceed first with the examination of the witnesses. — Oportet omnia 
 facere decore et formaliter." 
 
 Having delivered himself of this farrago, the legal oracle looked round 
 upon his gaping auditory, all of whom, except the veteran Londoner before- 
 mentioned, seemed dumbfounded with astonishment at the learning, and puzzled 
 with the dog-Latin of Octavius Sheepshanks. Sir Litton too, was profuse in 
 the expression of his thanks for the invaluable assistance thus opportunely 
 proffered. 
 
 At this moment the London thieftaker who had captured Palmer stepped 
 forward. Doffing his hat, he made a low obeisance to Sir Litton — a duck 
 of the head — half deferential, though with a spice of familiarity in it — to 
 'Octavius Sheepshanks, Esq., and casting his small grey eyes, with a knowing 
 leer, on the group around, fixed them, with a singular expression of cunning, 
 on the person of the prisoner. He was a good sample of the race of blood- 
 hounds which the imperfect police of former days allowed to spring up into a 
 Tankness of villany to which the majority of offenders they captured might be 
 considered as innocence itself. The sanguinary brutality of our penal code, 
 and its horrid and disgusting accompaniment of bloodmoney, had, as criminal 
 records too clearly show, created a crime by which the highest offence against 
 society, that of openly taking away the life of a fellow-creature, had been 
 outdone. Not only were the police of the times we are speaking, traffickers in 
 felony, and the great agents in compounding it, but in many proved instances, 
 and doubtless many more which will never see the light, did the temptation of 
 a stipulated sum, to be paid as the price of prosecuting a fellow-man to the 
 death, give rise to the most coldblooded and fiendish conspiracies. Mr. 
 Ferret, however, was no such villain ; he was of course unscrupulous, or he 
 would never have arrived at eminence in his profession ; though his villany 
 was rather the result of circumstances, (he had been a pupil of the great 
 Jonathan Wild, then recently executed,) than of any inherent depravity or 
 .cruelty of nature. In another sphere of life, Mr. Ferret would, from his con- 
 vivial habits, and love of joke and comic humour, have been called " a d — d 
 
DICK TUKPIK 27 
 
 jolly fellow :" as it was, his company, though avoided by all respectable men — 
 for the officer of those days was usually himself a thief — was much sought by 
 his brother " runners." 
 
 His statement showed, that information of the robbery at farmer Lawrance's 
 having been transmitted to the police-office to which he was attached, h« had 
 set on foot enquiries. That these had resulted in his ascertaining the fact, 
 that a portion of the stolen property had been burit-.d in an arbour in the 
 garden lately occupied by Mr. Bevis. .At this point of his evidence, after 
 two or three most mysterious winks at the prisoner, and a sort of confidential 
 grin at his worship's clerk, he digressed into some observations, by no means 
 remarkable for their modesty, on the impossibihfe' of eluding his vigilance^ 
 and the extraordinary sagacity — little short, if yo would take his word for 
 it, of omniscience — with which the secret passages of all cases came to his 
 knowledge. This flourish, was, however, rut short by Mr. Sheepshanks, who 
 in a voice of authority desired the officer to confine himself to the point. 
 " This is not evidence, Sir Litton," said he ; " it is irrelevant — entirely irre- 
 levant. Allow me, my dear sir, to proceed by putting leading questions to 
 this witness ; it will greatly tend to facilitate the progress of the enquiry, and 
 • to a — a — simplify its details — a — a — quod non relevantia est — a — a — but 
 you know the rest." 
 
 The capture of Palmer neeq\not again be detailed. The officer having com- 
 pleted his testimony, the case appeared to be likely to come to an adjourn- 
 ment, for the messenger who had been dispatched for farmer Lawrance, in 
 order that he might identify the property, had returned with the intelligence 
 that the farmer had that morning set out for London. The baronet and the 
 lawyer conferred together, and Palmer was about to address the latter when, 
 to his great satisfaction, he observed Dennis. That personage had hitherto 
 shrunk behind the headborough and his assistants, but now stepped forward — 
 and addressing himself to Sir Litton and the attorney, said — 
 
 " Please your worship, I think as I can make up some of the proof as is 
 wanting in this here case." 
 
 " Let the witness be sworn then," said the lawyer. As the sacred volume 
 was placed in his hand, Richard gazed at him with stupified astonishment ; a 
 look of malignant triumph stole across the swarthy features of Dennis, and 
 sparkled in his single eye. 
 
 '- Sir Litton fidgetted on his chair — he feared the character of the witness; 
 and looked from Dennis to the prisoner, and again from the prisoner to Dennis, 
 with an expression of countenance which the perjurer would not heed, but 
 which at once conveyed to the mind of Palmer the suspicion that he was 
 betrayed. By a violent effort he mastered his feelings. Dennis proceeded. 
 
 " I believe," and here he took up the jacket in which the articles of silver- 
 plate had been found wrapped — " as I can speak pretty positive to this here 
 jacket. 1 have seen master Richard there wear it, many's the time and oft ; 
 and the man as made it is outside. Hows'ever, I'm sorry to say it, but if it 
 corned out afterwards I might be blamed, so I'll make a clean breast of all I 
 knows of this ugly job. The night afore last, as is my duty, you know, Sir 
 Litton, I was on the look out near Bevis's garden, when I see two strange 
 men a-making that way by sneaking along the hedge. 'Hollo!' says I to 
 myself, ' may-be you aint after mischief there.' So I watches them : one on 
 em was much like master Richard, but as it was darkish, I can't swear.posi- 
 t»ve ; t'other taller. I see 'em — I only speak the truth — (he observed Sir 
 
28 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Litton's astonishment; — go to the arbour, and after stopping a while they 
 comes out, one on 'em carrying a spade ; and my mind misgave me as all was 
 not right : so I called Joe, aud after telling him, he — " 
 
 " Sir Litton, 1 ' observed the pedantic lawyer, who had been busily taking 
 notes, " this statement is most important. Allow me, however, to remark, 
 that we cannot take what he told other people as evidence. Where is this 
 Joe 8" addressing Dennis ; " he will be required to complete the chain.'' 
 
 Sir Litton became still more uneasy : the lawyer observed it, and con- 
 tinued : — " I am aware, my dear sir, how painful it must be to a gentleman of 
 your kind feeling, to be under the necessity of committing one who has grown 
 up under the patronage of your excellent family to gaol, for an offence to 
 which the laws of society have properly affixed the penalty of an ignominious 
 death. But may I deferentially observe, that in these cases we must fall back 
 on our sense of public duty, and remember that the community at large owes 
 a debt of gratitude to those who, sinking all private and personal feelings, 
 devote themselves, like yourself Sir Litton, to a painful function for the general 
 good." 
 
 Dennis continued : " Well, 1 calls Joe, as I said afore, and tells him what 
 I thought ; and as the night was cloudy, we gets a lantern, and then we 
 finds — J e seeing as the ground had been dug up — these things you sees afore 
 you. And I s'pose as Joe told the gemman as took him, when he was a 
 going to dig 'em up — " 
 
 The blood on the forehead of Richard went and came : the unblushing per- 
 jurer stood, with an affectation of concern on his countenance, as if hesitating 
 whether he should say all he knew. 
 
 " Perjured villain !" exclaimed Palmer ; at the same time springing on the 
 table, he threw himself towards him in a paroxysm of rage. The leap was so 
 violent that he threw down the constable at his side, and launching his fet- 
 tered hands full at the head of Dennis, would doubtless have inflicted some 
 well-deserved injury on the wretch ; but the latter had watched him too atten- 
 tively to be so surprised — and adroitly stepping aside, his bound victim fell 
 violently on the floor. The constables threw themselves 'heavily upon him, 
 and he was again secured. Sir Litton rose from his chair: the little 
 lawyer had retreated in undisguised terror to the farthest corner of the 
 toom. 
 
 "Hear me! Sir Litton Weston !" exclaimed Palmer, struggling with the 
 men. " Sir Litton, I am the victim, by heaven ! Sir Litton ! that base 
 wretch — " 
 
 Mr. Octavius had returned to the table ; and having assured himself of his 
 
 own personal safety, and that the prisoner was efficiently secured, seemed 
 
 inxious to draw the affair to a close. 
 
 " Sir Litton, I opine that nothing more can be done until the arrival of 
 
 farmer Lawrance : there is a weight of testimony clearly justifying you in 
 
 remanding the prisoner; I will, therefore, with your permission,'' and here he 
 
 dipped his pen, " make a formal order to that effect." 
 
 Sir Litton assented with a nod: and the order having been handed to the 
 
 constables, Richard — after an ineffectual attempt to obtain ^ hearing, which was , 
 
 prevented by Mr. Sheepshanks declaring the proceedings terminated — was 
 
 dragged from the apartment. 
 
 No sooner were they gone, than ordering the footman to withdraw, Sir 
 
 Litton at once fell into a conversation with Mr. Sheepshanks, in which he 
 
DICK TURPIN. 29 
 
 communicated his suspicions of the truth of the testimony, and his doubts as to 
 the guilt of the prisoner 
 
 Mr. Sheepshanks combated his arguments, only to flatter him the more, by 
 falling completely into his views of the subject, with many eulogistic remarks 
 on his discernment and the goodness of his heart. Their wine was seasoned 
 with many speculations as to the possible result of the affair, and finally 
 Mr. Sheepshanks declared his intention of watching the proceedings closefy, 
 in order that the prisoner " might have the benefit of any doubt " which 
 should present itself. 
 
 Meantime the headborough had conducted his charge to the cage, the only 
 strong place of confinement which the neighbourhood contained : it was a small 
 brick building some six feet square, and of proportionate height — before its 
 door stood the stocks, which now and then exhibited a sturdy beggar, and 
 beside them the seldom used whipping post with its huge iron staples. 
 
 Dense was the crowd of old and young which followed, as the important 
 culprit was conveyed through the village street, and numerous were the 
 expressions of surprise at the flourishes with which the headborough and 
 his assistants embellished their description of the scene at the Hall. The 
 resoluteness of Dick was already known, but it now came coloured and dis- 
 torted to their minds as reckless and sanguinary ruffianism. 
 
 The ponderous lock had been turned on him, and the last lingering knot of 
 gossips had departed before Palmer raised himself from the damp earthen 
 floor on which he had thrown himself on being first thrust into the place of his 
 confinement. Thoughts had been whirling through his brain with an intensity 
 and volocity that had nearly goaded him to madness. The visions of his early 
 days recurred to him, and the most minute and trifling incidents of his life 
 presented themselves with a painful distinctness and reality to his mind's eve. 
 He thought of each passage of his love until every word of his conversations 
 with Esther seemed again to vibrate on his ear — then the thoughts of their 
 fond pictures of future happiness rushed upon him, accompanied with the idea 
 that his present infamy must inevitably reach her, and none be at hand to con- 
 tradict the false and slanderous report. He started to his feet—" She'll not 
 believe it — I know she'll not ! there at least, in her pure heart, I shall find an 
 advocate convinced of my innocence !" The moon rode high in the heavens, 
 and the light streamed through a small and strongly grated aperture in the 
 wall — the night was frosty and chill, but he felt it not — the damp ground on 
 which he had so long lain had failed to cool his burning forehead. He pared, 
 round his narrow prison — the image of Dennis occurred to him — he seized him 
 and in imagination tore him with the ferocity of a caged tiger — he stamped 
 him to the earth — and struggled till the cold drops of perspiration started from 
 every pore. He sat down to breathe awhile — he cast his eyes round his den, as 
 the possibility of an escape suggested itself; but dismissed it, resolving to brave 
 the worst: again and again it recurred, and each time with more force than the 
 former. He had been deprived of all weapons on his capture ; it was besides 
 necessary that he should free himself of his handcuffs. They were of the old 
 fashioned description connected by a short shackle. In the wall opposite to the 
 window, on the spot where the moon's rays now fell, he perceived with delight 
 a large iron staple firmly fixed into the brickwork. He placed his wris-ts ou 
 each side the projection, but soon found that though bv a painful and pro- 
 longed effort he could bend and partially twist the shackle, the tough and well 
 wrought iron exhibited no sign of breaking. Ho persevered, however, at 
 
30 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 each time finding the resistance weaken, and within half an hour he had suc- 
 ceeded in separating the link and delivering his wrists from the unpleasant 
 union to which they had been compelled. He peeped cautiously through the gra- 
 ting — the silent village slept in the calm moonshine — the fields were ever and 
 anon chequered by the light fleecy clouds which flickered across her surface. 
 He tried the bars ; but their removal must evidently be a work of time. The 
 roof, for the place was not more than seven feet high, presented a more pro- 
 bable chance. Fastening his neckcloth in the friendly staple which had before 
 done him such good service, he formed it into a strong loop, two or three 
 times doubled, in which he placed his foot. He now found, after two or three 
 attempts that, by suddenly springing up, and placing one hand against the 
 rafters to steady himself, he could easily remove a portion of the planking with 
 which they were covered. This was soon accomplished; and Dick, releasing his 
 foot, drew himself upward through the aperture, and sliding down the slope, 
 on the opposite side to the highway, found himself once again a free man. 
 
 For a while he crouched beneath the shadow of the little building, listening 
 attentively ; all however, was still — except the occasional baying of a deep- 
 mouthed yard dog, as the prowling fox, or some other light sound, disturbed 
 his wakeful doze. Skirting the shady side of the hedges, and occasionally 
 making his wav along a dry ditch, at the expense of a few scratches from the 
 brambles, he took the direction of his foster-mother's house. He knew that this 
 step was fraught with danger, but he could not bear the idea of quitting the 
 village for ever without bidding her farewell. He went to the back part of 
 the house : the diamond-paned casement of her bedroom glittered in the 
 moonbeams. Selecting a few small and light pebbles, he threw them 
 cautiously against the glass. After repeating this several times, he ventured 
 upon trusting his voice in a low whisper. " Hist, dear mother; it is I- — your 
 son Richard," said he. No reply, however, came from the direction in which 
 his voice was directed ; but his ear caught the sound of the fastenings of the 
 backdoor being cautiously removed. 
 
 " Come in, for God's sake !" said a female voice ; it was that of the girl 
 who acted in capacity of servant and companion to Palmer's aunt. " Oh, 
 master Richard, we've been so alarmed. Mistress has been to the Hall, and 
 is now gone to farmer Lawrance's. All the people said you were committed 
 to prison." 
 
 They entered the house. Palmer knew too well the value of every moment, 
 and the danger of his situation, to forfeit his chance of liberty by remaining 
 long ; he therefore, after making up a small bundle of more immediate neces- 
 saries, and leaving a promise that his mother should soon hear from him, bid 
 farewell to his home — and a<jain took to the fields. 
 
 There is a lingering — a hoping against hope, about the human heart, which 
 often disposes our actions in direct opposition to our judgment ; and thus it 
 was with Palmer. Though well aware of the imminent risk of apprehension 
 he encountered, he could not quit Hempstead without one fond farewell of the 
 scene of his joys and woes — the garden of Esther. Thither he cautiously 
 directed his steps. His way, as before stated, led him through a portion of 
 the Chase; he lingered in view of the spot of his first apprehension. The 
 house of Dennis rose upon his view : he bethought himself of revenge. While 
 thus lurking in the shadow of the huge and gnarled trees, he fancied he heard 
 the hum of men's voices ; he was not mistaken : the sounds approached — and as 
 he lay close to the trunk of a giant of the forest, two men nsared the spot. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 31 
 
 •' It's all very well for you as has feathered your nest, to talk in such a 
 way," said the first speaker ; " but I can't stand it. The swag, in the 
 guinea way, warn't half what I hear we might have had, if so be you had'nt 
 been so precious smart at being off. I heard Gregory say myself, that what 
 we got was nothing to what we left behind ; besides, I can't tell, for the soul 
 of me, what good I can get by giving up the plate-part of the haul — 'specially 
 as you don't come down, as you promised you would." 
 
 Palmer's blood boiled as the voice of Dennis met his ear in reply. 
 
 " Why, what a precious hurry you're in ; you're a bigger fool than I took 
 you to be : but I'd advise you not to ride rusty with your friends. We're all 
 in it ; and if so be you can't do as I do, I'll take care you don't get the best 
 of me. But I'll show you as I'll act honourable. Why, the vally of what 
 them cups and spoons 'ud fetch, now, is nothink : put your price on 'em, and 
 I'll make up your reg'lars ; I'd scorn to have it said I done a pal. Hows'ever, 
 when we've a got this younker out of the way — an' I think I've spun his 
 hemp for him — you shan't find me backward ; but it might be as well if yer 
 corned no nearer to the house nor this, for there's that old affair still out agin 
 yer. Here's all I have just now, but meet me on Monday at Sam's hovel in 
 the marsh, and I'll make it all right. Good bye." 
 
 So saying, Dennis put some silver into the hand of his scoundrel-looking 
 accomplice, who stealthily moved off among the trees. " I don't half like 
 that vagabond," said he, soliloquising ; " but I must sweeten him a trifle just 
 now. I guess master Dick is sorry by this time as he made me liis enemy." 
 
 He began examining the priming of his gun : at this moment a rustle 
 anions the leaves struck on his ear, and while he was looking: for its cause 
 the very object of his thoughts rushed towards him — ihe gun was half raised 
 to his shoulder when, with one hand, Palmer struck down the weapon, and fix- 
 ing the other with a gripe, strong as his hatred, on the Throat of Dennis, 
 dashed him violently against the bole of a tree. Stupefied by the suddenness 
 of the attack, the ruffian made but a feeble resistance. His senses reeled, his 
 sight swam, as Richard without relaxing his compression of the villain's throat, 
 endeavoured to wrest the gun from his grasp, without any defined idea of even 
 Vis own intentions. The staggered Dennis still however, instinctively retained 
 flis hold. The violence of his fall caused him to use one hand to protect him- 
 self, and Palmer had well nigh possessed himself of the piece ; the hand of 
 his foe only clutching the barrel, when the trigger catching some part of his 
 dress, it exploded, lodging the charge in the body of Dennis. The man leaped 
 from the ground with a piercing shriek and fell heavily at the feet of Palmer. 
 He stood gazing at his antagonist, the distorted features looked ghastly in 
 the pale moonlight and no sound escaped him, but a low moan, as his quiver- 
 ing body writhed on the herbage, while the blood from his side changed the 
 green turf to a dull red. Palmer was horror struck. He stood a moment 
 transfixed — the noise of the discharge, and the yell of Dennis must have been 
 heard at the Lodge, and he doubted not a few moments would bring assistance 
 to the spot. He cast the gun frum him — and feeling that HI teas a mur- 
 derer fled with a speed which he slackened not until he had placed some 
 miles between himself and the awe-insipring sight of his murdeied victim. 
 
 He paused on a small eminence, the early breath of morn plaved upon his 
 temples — and as he thought upon the ignominious doom towhich the machina- 
 tions of the villain would have consigned him, he felt justified i;i what he had 
 done 
 
32 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 He now resolved to make his way into London, and taking refuge in one 
 of the sinks of poverty and crime in the neighbourhood of Shadwell, determined, 
 after lying perdu for a while ; to betake himself to some foreign land. — 
 
 But few minutes had elapsed ere the groans of the wounded Dennis directed 
 the steps of some of the underkeepers to the spot. His injuries, though of 
 considerable extent, the gun being loaded with small shot and the dis- 
 charge so close as to burn his clothes, were not mortal, and after a painful 
 confinement of many weeks, Dermis resumed his duties with no other incon- 
 venience than a disabled arm, and a frame weakened by the loss of tiloraC 
 
 CHAPTER V —1728. 
 
 Hurrah for the revel ! my steed, hurrah , 
 
 Thorough bush, thorough brake -go we 
 It is ever a virtue, when others pay, 
 
 To ruffle it merrily ! 
 
 Oh there never was life like the robber's — so 
 
 Jolly and bold and free ; — 
 And its end 'I— why a cheer from the crowd belo\f, 
 
 And a leap from the leafless tree ! 
 
 —Old Ballaa 
 
 " Health — a lucky life, and a merry one, to Captain Turpi r, " exclaimed 
 a loud and clear voice, amid the jingling of glasses and the steams of arrack ; 
 the owner of the aforesaid voice being more than half obscured bv the dense 
 clouds of tobacco smoke which floated in wreaths through the apartment. 
 
 " Health, a lucky life, and a merry one, to Captain Turpin !" echoed a 
 dozen voices in chorus from the throats of as motley a group as can well be 
 imagined. 
 
 The scene of the revel was an apartment in the " White Hart f " a tavern, 
 situate at the Bloomsbury end of Drury Lane ; well known as the resort of 
 all the flash tobymen* of the day. Not a few of the company exhibited all 
 the extravagance of vulgar finery ; yet sprinkled among the lace ruffles, the 
 satin bags, full bottomed wigs, and glittering jewelled sleeve-buttons, here 
 and' there, (for crime and misery " acquaint us with strange bedfellows,") 
 might be seen, two or three of such villanous, ruffianly, repulsive vagabonds, 
 as an honest man would dislike to meet on a dark night. Their unkempt heads 
 and unshaven dirty visages contrasted strangely with the nonchalant extrava- 
 gance of costume of others of the party. Pipes strewed the table : costly 
 wine and humble malt, bowls of arrack and tumblers of diluted Geneva, stood 
 side by side with as little distinction as was exhibited by the heterogeneous 
 company who were imbibing them. Here sat the aristocrat, of the highway, 
 and at his elbow the " swell out of luck ;" who, driven by some un!u«kv 
 exploit to temporary concealment, awaited, in skulking poverty, after squander- 
 ing the proceeds of his crime, the " blowing over'' of the search of justice. 
 Others of these reckless " shabbies" were the lurchers of their more dashing' 
 associates. It was the office of these desperadoes to furnish their masters 
 with information of the where and when their exploits might come off with 
 the greatest profit and success. These " touters" for so they might be termed, 
 
 * Hisfhwavmen. 
 
DICK Tl'ItPIW 
 
 33 
 
 Black Dennis dismissed bv Sir Litton Woton. 
 
 skulked about the residences of the noble and the wealthy, scraped acquaint- 
 ance with their grooms, stablemen, and hangers-on, and thus obtained a 
 knowledge of the fashionable arrivals and departures, in days when yet the 
 " Morning Post" was not. This intelligence they, of course, turned to pro- 
 fitable account ; and some of the most lucrative robberies were " put up" by 
 their means. These inferior scoundrels occasionally did a little on their own 
 account on the pedestrian suit — z". e. as footpads. From their intimate know- 
 ledge of the movements and proceedings of their more dashing associates, they 
 were dangerous enemies ; and this enabled them, like leeches, " the blood, the 
 blood, the very blood to suck," in a pecuniary sense ; and in net a few cases, 
 where their rapacity had been disappointed, or some personal feeling of 
 hatred prompted them, they "peached" on the "gallant highwaymau." 
 
 In a chair, somewhat elevated above the rest, sat the president ; and the 
 president was, as the reader may already have guessed, — Dick Tun pin. Among 
 the more spicy guests who figured around the board, Captain Hind, George 
 Fielder, Rose, and Dudley may be enumerated — the two latter also rejoicing 
 in the epithet " Captain ;" a favourite travelling title of the bold highwaymau 
 of days bypast, and which we have just heard coupled with the name of our 
 hero, the quondam Richard Palmer. Conspicuous among the more seedy 
 group, the reader perhaps will be astonished at finding Flack Dennis, and 
 some oth#r ruffians unknown to fame, whose deeds belong not to our 
 history. The date prefixed to this chapter will have shown that three years 
 No. 5. 
 
8* DICK THRPIN. 
 
 have elapsed since last we had the honour to hear of that person — and these 
 
 ■ years had certainly neither improved his appearance or his reputation. 
 
 • ; ! ii iheld, in his new avocation, his character for cunning and malignity; 
 
 there N\as not among his wh ' ibe a more useful and dangerous — a more 
 
 cruel or daring vagabond than Dennis Sovvton. Though despising and 
 
 detesting him, Dick Turpin, whose morals and manners also exhibited a most 
 
 striking change for the worse, had learned to " endure, then pitv, then era- 
 
 b a ■ e." this consummate scoundrel. The laws of the society in which the) 
 
 were both enrolled, indeed recognised but one crime — that of treach ry to a 
 
 comrade ; and the circumstances of Dick Turpin's discovery of Dennis, and his 
 
 own position, forbad such a thought being entertained for a moment. 
 
 While the glasses are yet jingling, and the toast circulating, we will snatch 
 a page or two in order to fill up some passages of the life of our hero and of 
 Dennis, and to narrate the circumstances which had led to their present 
 position. 
 
 We have before stated that Dennis had resumed his office of head ranger 
 of Weston Park. Intense was the dismay, mighty the consternation, of that 
 potent functionary the headborough of Hempstead, when, on the morning of 
 Turpin's escape, his snore was out short by a confused noise of voices under 
 his window ; and before he had time to consult Mrs. Gnbbins, as like a dutiful 
 husband he was wont to do, on the probable cause of the disturbance, his 
 name was shouted by most stentorian lungs. The great man leaped from his 
 bed in that state in which it lias been said no man is a hero, and, followed 
 by a sharp volley from Mrs. G. — for, from Socrates down to the Duke of Marl- 
 borough and Mr. Gubbins, the mighty men of the earth have been henpecked — 
 popped his head from the window. 
 
 The village street exhibited a scene of unwonted bustle. A small knot of 
 villagers was grouped opposite his house, and it was evident from their looks 
 and the eagerness of their gesticulations that something unusual had 
 happened. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Gubbins !" exclaimed a damsel with a milking pail in her hand ; 
 " the pris'ner han escaped !" 
 
 " Ees ! he have got off in roight arnest,'' chorused a dozen others. 
 
 "Come down, will you ?" exclaimed one of Sir Litton Weston's game- 
 keepers, who now ran up. " Why, his worship's head ranger have just been 
 shot dead : the robber have broken prison, an' all's in an uproar at the Hall." 
 
 Now Mr. Gubbins scarcely yet clearly comprehended the meaning of all 
 this. It was his wont to mug and bemuddle himself with good stingo each 
 night at the Fox, and to so becloud his intellects with the fumes of mundungus, 
 that it took him some minutes to collect his scattered ideas. 
 
 " Bless me! bless me!" said he, as he returned towards the bedside, " the 
 prisoner has broken jail — against the peace of our lord the king — his crown 
 and dignity. Oh, the audacity of — " 
 
 11 Don't stand maundering there, you old fool!" cried the vinegar voice of 
 Mrs. Gubbins, " but go and see what's to do ; and make haste back to light 
 the fire and put the kettle on — d'ye hear ? I'll want my breakfast afore 
 you're back, I'll warrant. I don't know how such an old dawdle came ever 
 to be appointed to anything — not I." 
 
 " My dear," said her spouse, " I am summoned to the Hall : the prisoner 
 has escaped ; and, as his majesty's representative, Sir Litton sends to consult 
 with me — " 
 
DICK TURPIN. 35 
 
 " His majesty's fiddlestick'." cried the irreverent dame; " why, your silly- 
 head must ha' been doited when ye undertuk anything as wanted a man to do. 
 But make haste do'ee, &nd bring me back all the news afore you tell anybody 
 else ; the headborough's wife ought to know all about public business afore 
 any dame in the town. Make haste, you old frump you !" 
 
 With this valediction the office-bearer, having donned the inexpressibles 
 which would with more propriety have adorned the portly person of his better 
 half, stepped out among the crowd, with a boldness and dignity which chal- 
 lenged the respect of the elder rustics, and awakened awe and admiration in 
 the breasts of the younger. 
 
 Long and fruitless was the search— for Dick was far away ere the first alarm, 
 as the reader has already been made aware. 
 
 Dennis, upon reflection, did not regret his escape — though the issue of his 
 plot had been so entirely different from what he had designed ; and it was 
 satisfactory that the ruin of Palmer had been effected without the risk which 
 must necessarily have attended a trial. His triumph, however, was destined 
 to be a short one. We have before alluded to the desperate poacher who 
 had been one of his accomplices. The accidental encounter of Dennis with 
 Palmer, by disabling tie former from keeping the appointment mentioned in 
 our last chapter, had induced Ned Wheeler — for such was his name — to venture 
 nearer than was prudent to the precincts of the Hall ; the consequence of this 
 step was his apprehension upon a warrant for deer-stealing, which had been for 
 some time out against him. To this crime the law then awarded the penalty 
 of death. At that period the assizes were " few and far between ;" and in 
 the interval of Ned Wheeler's tedious imprisonment in the county gaol, Dennis 
 had recovered. The prisoner, relying on the friendship of Dennis, or rather 
 calculating on his fears, had commissioned a trusty comrade to confer with 
 him as to the best means of rescuing him from his perilous situation. The 
 hyprocritical villain felt how important the death of Ned might be to his 
 future safety, and therefore did not fail to transmit to him the strongest 
 assurances of his friendship. He forwarded him the means of procuring legal 
 advice ; though at the same time he took care that Mr. Sheepshanks should 
 be consulted, and, by confidential communications, put that gentleman in 
 possession of all the particulars — and they were many — which could tell against 
 the prisoner. But " homme propose et Dieu dispose," and the cunning 
 Dennis was in this instance fated to overreach himself. In the course of a 
 conversation between the attorney and his client, the legal gentleman took 
 occasion to mention one or two facts which had come to his knowledge ; facts 
 which Wheeler instantly knew could have been communicated by none but his 
 pretended friend Dennis. He enquired the lawyer's authority ; and, though 
 the latter evaded a direct answer, the prisoner at once saw though his pro- 
 fessional quirks. He resolved to repay the traitor in his own coin ; and within 
 two hours after the interview Sir Litton and the smug lawyer were closeted, 
 and the whole particulars of the burglary at farmer Lawrance's, the division 
 of the booty, and the perjury of Dennis, were as plainly proved as circumstantial 
 evidence and the direct testimony of Wheeler could do. Mr. Sheepshanks 
 proposed the instant apprehension and committal of Dennis; but Sir Litton, 
 though expressing his abhorrence of the conduct of the delinquent, peremptorily 
 insisted that no further steps should be taken in the affair. The little lawyer 
 f'pened his eyes : — " Why surely, Sir Litton, you will not allow your personal 
 tnelings so far to compromise your duty to the community, as to — " 
 
36 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Let me hear no more upon the subject,'* said Sir Litton, " I insist, as yoa 
 value my favour, Mr. Sheepshanks, that not one word of this conversation 
 should transpire. I will have this man Sowton before me ; but mark me, 1 
 have a motive" (the lawyer bowed obsequiously, and placed his hand upon 
 his breast) " which renders it imperative that no more should come of this.'' 
 
 "Far be it from me, sir," said the man of law, " to pry into the motives Oi 
 my patron. Of course, Sir Litton, you will do what seemeth right in your 
 better judgment. May I ask, in what way I can forward your views in this 
 matter ?" 
 
 Sir Litton during this speech had been pacing the room; he turned abruptly 
 on the lawyer — " By holding your tongue," said he sharply. Mr. Sheepshanks 
 muttered an apology. 
 
 " Send Dennis Sowton, here,'' said Sir Litton to a domestic who answered 
 the bell. 
 
 It is ever the fate of subordinate villains to be hated in the proportion as 
 they are feared, by those whom they have served. Sir Litton had long 
 felt the thraldom in which even his worthless menial had kept him, by 
 having possessed himself of his weaknesses ; and he became acutely sensible, 
 as his indignation against Palmer cooled, of the degradation to which he had 
 submitted by allowing such a scoundrel to become his confidant, and the depo- 
 sitary of his secrets. 
 
 Dennis entered with his usual look of assurance. 
 
 " Sowton/' said Sir Litton sternly, " I have sent for you before this gentle- 
 man, that he may be a witness of my forbearance towards you. He, as well as 
 I, possess a knowledge of your crimes — crimes by which your life would be- 
 come a forfeit to the law." Sheepshanks gave an approving nod, and the face 
 of Dennis assumed a livid hue, though its expression was rather that of rage 
 and vexation than of shame and contrition. Sir Litton continued, " Dennis 
 Sowton, this gentleman is prepared to adduce proof not only of the offence of 
 perjury against you; but further that you, and your accomplices, and not 
 Richard Palmer," (Dennis gazed fixedly on the floor, and an impatient tremor 
 of his whole body betrayed his agitation) "were guilty of the burglary at Par- 
 tner Lawrance's. Now I — " 
 
 The hardened villain raised his heal. "And who, " said he doggedly, 
 "set me on to doit but yourself ? If I'm to be punished I know who'll be 
 most talked on in the matter. Few 'ud care about me, for few likes me well 
 enough ; but what 'nil the world say to Sir Litton Weston, the son of the 
 (jood Sir Mark, who to revenge himself on his rival for the loss of a gal, 
 egged on a poor fellow to an offence, and when, in his zeal to serve him, he 
 got himself into a scrape, turned round and punished him. — / didn't commit, 
 Palmer to pris'n for the robbery, thank God," sneered the ruffian, made desperate 
 by his situation, " knowing, as somebody as I knows did, as he was innocent. But 
 if I am to suffer fur this— though I believe it's all a lie of some of my enemies 
 — why I won't suffer alone— that's all." Sir Litton was totally unprepared for 
 this bold stroke of his servant's effrontery. His colour went and came, for he 
 had by no means bargained for such an exposure ; Mr. Sheepshanks though 
 endeavouring to affect a deep concern, was evidently inwardly felicitating him- 
 self on the turn affairs had taken, and the family secrets he was arriving at; 
 he broke in, however, to the rescue. 
 
 "Upon my word," said he, " this is the most unparalleled piece of impu 
 dence, that it has ever fallen to my lot to meet withal." Dennis looked at 
 
 . U 
 
DICK TURPIN. 37 
 
 him with a threatening glance, and he immediately changed his tone. "My 
 good fellow, the interest of your kind master has I fear been greatly defeated 
 bv the injudicious observations in which you have just indulged — satis ver- 
 borum, sapientia parum. It was, I believe, the intention of your kind and 
 generous master, Sir Litton, to have merely discharged you ; thereby giving 
 you an opportunity of retrieving elsewhere the character you have here for- 
 feited. Sir Litton, my dear Sir, calm yourself, pray do " (he observed that the 
 baronet was struggling with his temper) "leave me to deal with this fellow, 
 and you will see that suo sibi gladio hunc jugulo — I will cut his throat with 
 his own sword — a-hera. Sir Litton is anxious," and he turned to Dennis, 
 "your length of service and other motives thereunto disposing him — that the 
 consequences of this discovery should not fall, as strict justice requires, upon 
 your head. He therefore proposes — correct me, my dear Sir, if I should err — 
 that you should at once leave this neighbourhood. You must know, my good 
 man, that the punishment of this offence must fall on yourself, and moreover, 
 when you shall bo convicted, and the proof is of the clearest, no one will be- 
 lieve the slander launched against one whose character is so high and whose 
 virtues, public and private, are so eminently known as your respected master." 
 The legal parrot would have proceeded further, but Dennis by this time had 
 become fully aware of his position, and resolved upon his line of action. 
 
 " You may save yer breath, sir'* said he, "I've hit the right nail on the head ; 
 that swindling cur, Ned Wheeler, has snitched; well, I wants none of your 
 palaver to tell me as I must morris ; but there's two words even to that 
 bargin." 
 
 " Mr. Sheepshanks," said Sir Litton, " this has already gone too far. I've 
 determined that the law shall take its course. I will no longer endure that 
 this villain shall father his crimes on me, because in an unguarded moment I 
 once condescended to consult with him in an affair ot which I now feel heartily 
 ashamed. Let the worst come to the worst, the exposure, if exposure it is to 
 be," and the baronet walked towards the bell rope which hung beside the luge 
 sculptured chimney-piece. 
 
 " Stop!" exclaimed Dennis, " another step and" — he placed his hand in his 
 bosom, and produced a pistol ; Sir Litton paused. 
 
 'I'm in your hands, I know;" said the desperado. "But don't think I'll 
 be slaughtered lamb-fashion. You say you've found me out ; but you'll know 
 more of me if you provoke me. I've many reasons for quitting these parts ; and 
 leaving 'em won't much hurt my feelings. These things is better settled with 
 a good understanding to all parties." 
 
 Sir Litton looked at Dennis, and the latter lowered the barrel of the pistol 
 in token of a cessation cf hostilities. 
 
 " I'm thinking, sir," said Dennis viewing the alarm of the lawyer with 
 supreme contempt ; " as you and I can arrange for my leaving without this 
 gentleman's interference." Mr. Sheepshanks moved towards the do<»r 
 " Stop!" ejaculated Dennis again, "not so fast, I leaves this room first of the 
 company. By your leave," he continued, walking up to the terrified Mr. 
 Octavius, " I'll stow you within call. Here," said he, motioning towards a 
 closet, the door of which he opened--" you'll be so good as to step into tins 
 little room while I turns a key on yer — cos I'd rather not have yer witnessing 
 to anything yer might se^ or hear going twixt myself and master. Come — in 
 with you !" the little lawyer cast a fearfully imploring look tovwvds Sii Litton, 
 as he slowly prepared to comply with I he command. The baronet, win avr;o .• 
 
38 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 his defects did not reckon the want of personal courage, made a step or two 
 towards Dennis. 
 
 " Hear me, Dennis Sowton," said he, " I will not be bullied by you, 
 uor will I submit to any indignity being put on Mr. Sheepshanks, who is my 
 friend and legal adviser. You just now expressed a desire that we 
 should part amicably. I did not send for you with any other intention ; for 
 though determined to rid myself of your presence, 1 still, in consideration of 
 my own conduct, am willing to act with forbearance towards you. But be- 
 ware how you endeavour to practise on that forbearance. I will not submit 
 to your insolence : therefore at once name your condition, and I pledge you 
 my word that you shall find no reason to repent trusting to my honour and 
 generosity. 
 
 Dennis saw his cue with instinctive acuteness. 
 
 " Well, exclaimed he, in a cheerful tone of voice, " I always did respect 
 you, sir ; and rnany's the time when youv'e been back-bited by others, whom 
 you little thinks ever did anythink but sing your praises, as they've good right 
 to do — many's the time, as I've said, ' well, if master be a little hasty or so, 
 he's a good heart at bottom.' " — 
 
 Sir Litton looked impatient, and Dennis finding the time was past for 
 cajoling him, went on: "Howsever as you say I must go, and I knows it my- 
 self, it stands to reason as I can't do without means to live ; let me have, for 
 there's no use in beating about the bush — a hundred pounds and I'll go down 
 into Lincolnshire — which I wishes to see again ; and, ease your mind on't, I 
 shan't trouble you no more." 
 
 " You shall have it," said Sir Litton; and the readiness with which the 
 proposal was acceeded to, made Dennis regret that he had not asked more. 
 
 " And now, Sir," said Dennis, " seeing as short reckonings make long 
 friends, I'd like if so be you'd give me my ticket for traveling as soon as con- 
 venient; for, d'ye see, it might be unpleasant to stay — besides not turning out 
 for your credit." (Sir Litton winced) " So, if it meets with your way of 
 thinking, I'll go at once." 
 
 " Certainly," said the baronet. Stepping to an escrutoire, he drew 
 forth a small rouleau, and breaking the sealed envelope, spread a number 
 of guineas before him. Dennis fixed his one eye on them with sparkling 
 eagerness. Mr. Sheepshanks, not knowing how his interference might be 
 taken, stood a silent spectator of the transaction. Sir Litton told over 
 the stipulated number; there were some eight or nine remaining which he 
 added to the heap, and placing them in a silken bag, he said — 
 
 " Dennis Sowton, I have acted throughout this business with great lenity 
 
 towards you. Your conduct has this day been such, that, had it not been for 
 
 ' a regard for my own character, I should have consigned you at once to a 
 
 felon's cell — as it is, take this, and never let me see your face again — if I do, 
 
 you will not have to thank me for any forbearance." 
 
 During this short speech Dennis had stood with extended hand, in anxious 
 expectation of clutching the proffered gold ; his avarice having mastered his 
 habitual caution and self-restraint: at the close of it Sir Litton presented him 
 with the purse, and waving his hand pointed towards the door. 
 
 His success had so elated Dennis, that he scarcely expressed his thanks. 
 " Good bye, Sir Litton," said he, placing his hat jauntily on his head ; 
 "Good bye, Sir Litton : and long may you live; though I don't know, if I should 
 prosper in the world, if I shan't show you, in some way or other, as I respects 
 
DICK TURPIN. 39 
 
 you, spite the hard words you've used to me. Good bye, t'ye, Master Sheep- 
 shanks, and hark 'ee — if you wish to die in a whole skin, and with your friends 
 about you, don't take liberties with my character behind my back. Sir 
 Litton I'm safe in your word — good bye !" and so saying he quitted the 
 apartment. The last sound of his footsteps on the staircase was listened for by 
 Mr. Sheepshanks with nervous impatience, when he immediately opened his 
 fire. Meanness, the companion of cowardice, venomed his tongue and urged 
 him to advise Sir Litton. 
 
 " Shall I alarm the household; and capture the robber?" said he. " It 
 would be but right to take him with the money he has so villainously extorted: 
 I will undertake to so manage the affair as — " 
 
 " Mr. Sheepshanks," interrupted Sir Litton angrily, " I have before told 
 you, you could best serve me by holding your tongue — I repeat it sir — and as 
 you value my future favour atid confidence, let no man ever hear of this 
 subject more." The little lawyer at once expressed his acquiescence. 
 
 We will now follow the steps of Dennis. Rightly did he judge that the 
 place would soon be too hot to hold him : he feared that Ned Wheeler, having 
 once broken the ice, would not confine his disclosures to Sheepshanks, nor did 
 he. In the hope of being admitted king's evidence, he sent for the governor 
 of the gaol, and informed him of every particular, and Dennis had departed but 
 a few hours, when the officers arrived at Weston Hall, with a warrant for his 
 apprehension — but the bird was flown. Dennis made his way to London^ 
 and, as might be anticipated from the sensual character of bis pleasures, he 
 launched into the vilest depravity and debauchery. As like will to like, and 
 his propensities led him to the most debased associations, his illgotten stcre 
 saw soon expended; new means must be supplied.. The woman on whom 
 he had lavished the greater proportion of the proceeds of his extortion, 
 was a jezebel of the lowest class, of streng passions, and brutal violence; she 
 had, however, met with her match in Dennis, and after two or three contests 
 each of which terminated in severe personal injuries on the weaker side, — that of 
 Madge Dutton, as she was called by those who wished to be civil, though, 
 from her fighting propensities more generally known as " the Slasher, — her 
 paramour succeeded in beating her into a sort of dogged submission, from a 
 fear of his brutality. By Madge, who still retained many of the charms 
 which had first made her the victim and afierwards the destroyer of men, 
 Dennis, as soon as his money ran low, was introduced to several of the most, 
 notorious footpads, coiners, clippers, smugglers, and duffers, which " mighty 
 Babylon" could then boast. He soon distanced many of his more experienced 
 associates, and at the time at which we find him, a more accomplished rascal 
 could not easily have been met with, than Dennis Sowton. 
 
 The career of Palmer was of a different complexion: yet the inexplicable 
 destiny which presides over our fates seemed to have doomed that they should 
 each of them, by different roads, reach the same goal. 
 
 The early dawn just streaked the east as Palmer entered London bvthe wav 
 of Whitechapel. He made his way through the fast assembling groups 
 of market people; for in the High Street of that suburb-»-now no longer a 
 suburb, but an integral portion of the metropolis — was the market-place of 
 the citizens dwelling in the eastern division of London. Hastening through 
 these, he took his way along Bishopsgate Street, passed the Monument, and 
 as day broke found himself gazing, from a wharf near Billingsgate, on the 
 misty river with its forestry of masts. The agitating events of the night now 
 
40 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 first affected him with a sense of bodily fatigue : mental and bodily excitement 
 had as yet prevented any such feeling. He gazed on the dark hulls of the 
 vessels looming indistinctly through the haze, as it curled lazily off in dense 
 wreaths, and then cast an eye down his person. His trovvsers were spotted with 
 blood, which had escaped from a flesh-wound in his hand, of which as yet he 
 had been unconscious. His clothes were torn and disordered, and as he re- 
 flected on the crime he had committed, he saw how necessary it was to seek 
 some place of concealment without delay. 
 
 Near Billingsgate, that spot so famed for eloquence and fish, still exists, 
 opposite the entrance to the market, and parallel to Fish Street Hill, a 
 narrow and steep lane, known by the name of Darkhouse Lane : it, however, 
 in its inward and spiritual grace, if not ill its outward and visible sign, has 
 experienced great improvement. A century ago, this fitly-named spot contained 
 several dens, then known as crimping-houses ; places where lurked a race rjf 
 human spiders. These wretches subsisted by entrapping unwary and often 
 intoxicated young men, and having drugged thein into a state of insensibility, 
 robbed them ; then conveying them on board a receiving-ship for the navy, or 
 by collusion with some recruiting Serjeant, as circumstances might dictate, 
 their hapless victim on recovering his senses found himself kidnapped ; and 
 the scoundrelly crimps received from the authorities the bounty given in such 
 cases to those who procured an able seaman or soldier for the king. In front 
 of one of these dens, where a " palpable obscure" reigned even at noonday, 
 Palmer stopped. A mingled uproar of swearing, boasting, singing, and 
 laughing, broke upon his ear. He felt f.iint and hungry; the smarting and 
 pulsation of his hitherto scarce-noticed wound added to his discomfort. As he 
 hesitated, a man staggered forth from the doorway, and was instantly followed by 
 three others, one of whom sported the flaunting cockade and flying ribbands of a 
 recruiting serjeant. They seized the man who first came out; he resisted, and a 
 crowd of people soon assembled. Palmer felt that his appearance might attract 
 attention, and hastily entered the dingy-looking passage of thisunpromising hos- 
 telrie. He looked into the first apartment, in which were seated several men. By 
 their garb they seemed to be attendants on the fish market. They were clad 
 in long coats of a dingy white, of immense weight and thickness, their legs 
 encased in huge brown gaiters of undressed leather, waistcoats of a stable- 
 pattern, and one or tw > of them sported, coiled in a twist, the blue woollen 
 apron charade istic of their calling. They were busily engaged in discussing 
 the contents of some tankards of ale and twopenny which stood before them, 
 and one or Iwo who had laid down their pipes, for they were smoking 
 even at that hour of sunrise, were cutting away at some cold beef, or 
 picking periwink i s wi'h a pin. The shells of small crabs and the disjecta 
 membra of half-pic! ed shrimps strewed the tables and floor; and altogether the 
 apartment, though dignified by the title of " parlour,'' had a most " villanous 
 and fish-like smell." This room, if any mortal had ever been able to 
 see through its mu 1 encrusted panes, commanded a view of the front 
 street, and as Palmer's object was concealment, he made his way backward, 
 where he saw the house offered other accommodations. If the first described 
 apartment was uninviting, the one he now entered was anything but an im- 
 provement on it. Long narrow deal tables, bound with iron, and scooped with 
 holes, from which at certain hours the spilt beer was swabbed out, in order 
 that they might do duty as salt-cellars, and scored with mysterious lines for 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 41 
 
 Robbery of Sir Littou Wustoo. 
 
 the games of shoveharfpenny, or tiddleywmk, occupied three sides of the room. 
 Its fourth presented a fire-grate of ample dimensions ; from the lowermost of 
 its glowing bars projected a bright grating of iron, on which stood some 
 drinkables and eatables, keeping hot. The blackened chimney was capacious ; 
 pot-hooks, and a huge crane-formed bar for suspending kettles, occupied its 
 recesses; while above the mantel, on two upright racks, a spit or two, and a 
 conical pot for warming beer, were displayed. The walls were black and filthy 
 with soot and dirt; and in one corner the discoloured and dingy face of a 
 gigantic clock showed dubiously through (he smoke-laden atmosphere. Palmer 
 checked his step in the doorway as he hastily glanced around. 
 
 " Coom in, lad," said a smockfrocked, half- drunken fellow, who sat near the 
 door, and whose gay cockade showed that he was a recruit. " Coom, s< op 
 lad ; thee's welcum. I zay, zargent — a' guess here's anoofcher loikely un 
 Woo'te zarve the king, loike us? Coom, soop, lad." 
 
 The speaker was cut short by a rising hiccup, and held out the tankard 
 toward Richard. He took it, and placed it to his lips : the eye of the wary- 
 recruiting serjeant was fixed upon him. Without noticing the speech of 'he 
 intoxicated fellow, he opened the conversation with — 
 
 " You seem to be sum'at tired, young man. Ha' ye travelled f nr this 
 morning? It's no business of mine to ;isk, I know; but, mavbe, you'll seat 
 y< urself along wi' us, and take potluck " 
 
 Palmer's pride was offended by the abruptness of the man. He, however, 
 thai. Led him, and declined his olTer. 
 No. C 
 
4* DICK TURPI?*. 
 
 Seating himself in a comer of the room, he desired a brawny, red-elbowed 
 slattern, who stood in familiar gossip with two fellows near the fireplace, to 
 bring him some meat and beer. He had not long begun his meal before the 
 recruiting serjeant and another fellow rose from their seats, and, under pre- 
 tence of lighting their pipes, contrived to place themselves near him. They 
 kept up a conversation ; and, having supplied themselves with a measure of 
 ardent spirits, exchanged a few significant glances and signs, of which Palmer 
 was evidently the object. The latter had not noticed their presence until, 
 having despatched what was before him, the serjeant who had before addressed 
 him, said : — 
 
 " Pretty good takeaway, young man, I see. P'raps a glass of spcrrits 
 wouldn't hurt'e after it ?" 
 
 A glass was poured out ; and the serjeant, placing it to his lips, (for he 
 appeared to take his liquors upon the homoeopathic system, in infinitesimal 
 doses,) put it down, and by inclining the pewter measure over it, seemed to 
 refill it for Palmer. The latter, however, strenuously refused ; and after 
 several attempts to induce him, by various stratagems, to drink, the serjeant 
 somewhat testily left the room. 
 
 The tankard containing the ale which Palmer had ordered, stood at his elbow ; 
 and at this moment an ill-looking fellow, standing near the fire, contrived to 
 partially spill some beer he was warming in the conical-shaped pot. He leapt 
 back — swore an oath — grasped his scalded hand with the other — and stamped 
 his feet in great apparent, suffering. The altention of Palmer was of course 
 directed towards him. The moment was seized by the man we have before 
 noticed as seated near our hero ; he placed his dosed fist over the ale, and 
 suddenly opening it, scattered a powder into the liquor. He withdrew his 
 hand ; it was but the work of an instant. The man who had pretended to be 
 scalded left the room, and the other presently followed. 
 
 As Palmer leant back in his seat, pondering what step it would be best 
 for him to take, he first became aware of the presence of a man wrapped in a 
 coarse white duffle coat; and who appeared, from the obscure corner in which 
 he had ensconced himself, the slouch of his hat, and the high collar of his 
 upper coat, to seek to avoid observation. His eyes, however, were fixed upon 
 Palmer ; he was evidently watching him. Dick felt uneasy, and mechanically 
 laying hold of his ale, was about to raise it to his lips; the stranger rose 
 hastily from his seat, and placed his hand on the arm of Palmer. He made 
 a sign with his head towards the door, intimating that Palmer should follow 
 him ; and he did so. The two went out into a little back yard, and the 
 stranger at once said : — 
 
 " It may seem curious to vou, that a person you never saw before should 
 act as I have done just now ; but you're in bad hands, young man. You 
 observed that scoundrel's trick of Fealding himself; at that instant the beer 
 at your elbow was drugged. I will tell you how to act ; though, as I am 
 myself at present in hiding, I'd rather not get into a row; but, if it comes 
 to the worst, I'll stand bv you. I see, by your look, that you suspect me 
 also; but — and there's no accounting for it — I took a liking to you when you 
 first came in ; and I'll stand by you, hy G — !" 
 
 So saying, he gave the hand of Palmer a hearty shake, and continued. 
 
 "It may seem inquisitive, but I don't think I'm mistal en ; your behaviour, 
 and your choice of such a place as this, tells me that you, too, are seeking 
 concealment. Now, there are none of the wretches who frequent here whom 
 
DICK TURPIW. 43 
 
 I trust or hold connection with. Be frank with me, for I like your looks, 
 and knowing, as I do, how necessary a pal is on such occasions, I'll have no 
 secret from you." 
 
 The abrapt and hearty manner with which this was delivered, won the con- 
 fidence of Palmer; for he was by nature candid and confiding. He and the 
 stranger retired to an upstairs' apartment — the man was lodging in the house ; 
 and the freemasonry of misfortune soon made them sworn brothers. Palmer 
 having taken possession of the stranger's bed, slept soundly after the fatigues 
 and excitement of the past day and night 
 
 Mr. Ferret, to whom the reader has already been introduced, of course 
 formed a most important adviser in the attempt to recapture the fugitive. 
 On a consideration of the circumstances of the escape, he decided that Palmer 
 hud made his way to London. Thither he therefore followed ; and a few en- 
 quiries on the road brought him on the track of the runaway, even to the very 
 purlieus of Billingsgate. Mr. Ferret here lost scent: he, however, knew the 
 locale too well to be easily baffled ; and after three or four turns, and some 
 consideration, he entered the Compasses on the afternoon of the very day on 
 which Palmer had there taken refuge. 
 
 The latter was still asleep. Ferret sat down in the parlour; but, after a 
 little professional " pumping," as it is termed, he found that none had seen 
 such a man as the one he sought. 
 
 While the knowing runner was thus engaged, the stranger — for so we 
 must still for a while call him — stole a look into the parlour when procuring 
 something at the bar. The person of Ferret was well known to him : he 
 hastened up stairs, and arousing Palmer, informed him of the circumstance. 
 
 " It won't do to stop here," said he ; " I know Ferret too well. He and I 
 are acquainted, though ; and I don't fear him, for we have made it right." 
 The officers of those days made the capture of offenders a mere trading specu- 
 lation ; and the meaning of this was, that a mutual understanding existed 
 between the speaker and the thieftaker. " It is you that he is after ; I know 
 it." 
 
 Palmer sprang from the bed. 
 
 " Here," said his friend, producing a pistol from his coat, " take this ; it may 
 serve you." He saw Palmer's hesitation. " Why," said he, laughing, " you 
 look at a barring iron as if death was in its barrel. If you had used it as 
 often as I, you'd know it's more serviceable for show than mischief. Many's 
 the scrape ;" and he smiled as Palmer took it; " many's the scrape that pre- 
 senting the like of this has saved me, when using it would have done for me. 
 No, no !" and he shook his head ; " it's what they know you may do as frightens 
 them." 
 
 At this moment footsteps were heard on the stairs. The stranger stepped 
 to the door, and placed his back against it. 
 
 " Open the window," said he. 
 
 Palmer looked out upon the sloping roof of a lean-to, some ten feet below. 
 
 " Here !" said his friend in a loud whisper, seeing him prepare to get out. 
 "Hist, man alive! where the devil are you going to? draw the bed aside, and 
 go through that door." 
 
 Palmer obeyed his direction. Behind the curtain of the tent-bed appeared 
 a iloor, the handle cf which he turned, and in an instant closing it after him, 
 descended a flight of stairs, and found himself in the passage of the adjoining 
 hou»e : fear of being apprehended kot him speed; be gained the street, and 
 
44 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 once more breathed freely. Meantime Mr. Ferret had learnt, from the de- 
 scription of some of the taproom guests, that the man sought had been seen in 
 that apartment, and calling in his follower, who had remained watching outside, 
 he commenced a search of the premises. 
 
 Two rooms had been rummaged in vain, when the handle of the stranger's 
 door was tried. To the sharp rap of Mr. Ferret the inmate made no reply, 
 but threw himself upon the bed from which Palmer had just risen. Ferret 
 applied his knee sharply to the door, and the catch giving way, he stood in 
 the room. The man started up. 
 
 M Why, Ferret, you're a d — d deal less civil than you might be," said the 
 stranger, starting from his recumbent posture, with a braggadocio air ; 
 " smashing into a gentleman's private lodgings in this way: what the devil's 
 in the wind now, old boy ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the trap, looking round with an air of disappointment ; then 
 stepping to the open window, he narrowly examined the tiles below : nothing 
 however presented itself there, so he raised the valance of the bed; 
 
 " And there he found — 
 No matter what, It was not that he sought." 
 
 " Ay, ay, Mr. Fielder," said Ferret, looking rather blank ; " it's all very 
 well to try to gammon the flats, but, d'ye see, old Jack Ferret knows a dodge 
 or two. It isn't the matter of a shake* as I'd spoil a trump like you for, but 
 this is a slaughter business as I'm arter, and that don't allow slumming."^ 
 
 "I'm blessed if I pipe% you, Jack," said Fielder; "you're queering me 
 now. Who's been a slaughtering ?" 
 
 " Oh, not you; is that enough?" said Mr. Ferret, still peering suspiciously 
 round; " don't think as I'd do the thing as is wrong, but mayhap you have 
 seen the cove?" 
 
 Mr. Ferret then entered on a minute description of the person, and so much 
 as he thought prudent of the history, of our hero. 
 
 ♦' Well, that's a go," said Fielder, when he had finished. " He's a plucked 
 one, though. I have seen him, old boy, and no mistake. He left me within 
 this five minutes, and went down stairs. Have you searched the yard?" 
 
 " No !" said the knowing one, completely imposed on ; "I thought I should 
 have nabbed him snoozing. I want him, cos, d'ye see, as it 'ud be the making 
 on me just now; 'specially since that ugly 'scape-business of Joe Hawkins. 
 Fve been clouded not a little about that there, Master George ; but we can't 
 always serve -our friends without suffering a little, d'ye see ; else there 'ud be 
 no merit in it. Ah! Master George, you little thinks the fencing as I have to 
 make these little jobs right with the beak. ' Ferret,' says he to me, only the 
 last Wednesday as ever was ; ' there's been of late one or two things as has 
 happened I don't like the look on. There's Joe Hawkins's escape — tho' I 
 don't say as it was possible to help it — looks very suspicious,' says he ; ' take 
 care you don't forfeit the character you've earned as an active officer. I've 
 reason to think, too,' says he, ' as that robbery of Sir Digby Dawson's hasn't 
 had all flu- diligence used about it since you held the warrant as I expected to 
 see from you.' ' Your worship,' says I, ' I han't slept day nor night since — ' * 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" interrupted Fielder. 
 
 Mr. Ferret looked serious. " Upon my soul," said he, " every word as I 
 f«'l« ton is as true as—" 
 
 * A robbery. t Concealment. t Understand. 
 
DICK TURPIN.- 45 
 
 « It won't do, old 'un," said George, still laughing heartily; " it won't do 
 —you've had the best of that round already. D — n it, don't come it so con- 
 foundedly hard ; I shall be up in the stirrups again presently, never fear ; and 
 then I'll not forget you." 
 
 " I'll tell you what," said Ferret, who was, as far as his scoundrelly avocation 
 would allow him to be so, a good hearted fellow, " I didn't ask you for the lucre 
 of gain, cos I know you can't do it now." 
 
 " You don't know that," said Fielder, with the reckless swagger of the 
 highwayman ; "you don't know that; you've done well by me in this business ; 
 and if any man could ever say George Fielder was slow in returning a 
 service, damme. D'ye hear anything knock ?* Here's a goldfinch t or two 
 as were made to fly ; and, strike me, if I know a snugger nest than this." 
 
 Thus saving, the knight of roads placed some gold in the itching palm of 
 the immaculate Mr. Ferret. 
 
 We shall leave the minister of justice and the robber to pursue their charac- 
 teristic talk, awhile to follow the steps of Palmer. It had been agreed between 
 him and his newly-found acquaintance, who was no other than the notorious 
 George Fielder, who so long held at bay the myrmidons of justice, and set 
 at defiance the corruptly-administered laws, that in the event of any sudden 
 separation, a rendezvous should be understood in an obscure cottage, situated 
 on the common of the little hamlet of Plumstead, in Kent. Essex was, of 
 course, unsafe for Palmer, while George Fielder had equal objections to his 
 usual haunts at the western extremity of London. Palmer hurried over 
 London-bridge, and never slackened his hasty walk until the appointed spot 
 was reached. Avoiding Deptford and Greenwich, he took the upper road, 
 to Lewisham and the fields adjacent, and as the night was closing in arrived 
 at the place appointed. His directions were too accurate to admit of doubt, 
 and he easily fixed on the small cottage which was to be his harbour of 
 refuge. The spot was well chosen ; to the left a narrow and little-frequented 
 lane conducted to the banks of the Thames, near Woolwich ; and in the event 
 of a pursuit, the river once placed between the fugitive and his pursuers was a 
 great point of safety ; besides a water conveyance from London was occa- 
 sionally an advantage not to be despised. The place, though completely 
 out of the line of the road, had the convenience of being a short distance from 
 Shooter's-hill, the line of the great Dover high-road, and the scene of many 
 of the bold deeds of the tax-gatherers of the highway. Byron has rendered 
 deathless the fame of this spot, by selecting it for the robbery of Don Juan. 
 Within a hundred yards of the eastern declivity of the hill stood the cottage, 
 at the door of which our hero gently tapped. No voice or sound was to be 
 heard within, and he repeated the signal. He waited some minutes in anxious 
 suspense ere he ventured a third time to knock. He looked cautiously through 
 a little window in the front : the house was certainly unoccupied ; he turned 
 his back to the door, and looked on the indistinct clumps of broom as they 
 6hook their tufted heads, rich with rows of pendent cups of gold, perfuming 
 the cool air of evening : a man, dressed in a coarse smock-frock approached 
 him from among the gorse. 
 
 " Did you seek any body about here ? " said he. 
 
 Palmer instantly replied by inquiring his way to Woolwich. The man, 
 after looking at him suspiciously, extended one arm, as if to point out to him 
 the direction, while he placed his disengaged hand in a peculiar manner on 
 
 * Do you undorstaiidhis 1 t Guinea. 
 
46 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Palmer's arm. The mode of pressing the fingers at once told our hero he was with 
 a friend. It was the token of companionship already explained to him by 
 Fielder. Palmer returned it, by instantly grasping his hand in a way also 
 taught him by his newly-made friend. The man smiled, and pointed to the 
 door. Palmer understood him, and made the required signal, and the two 
 entered. They passed through the neatly-sanded front parlour, and, entering 
 another apartment, there found an elderly man and woman, apparently en- 
 gaged in the trade of making brooms from the heath with which the vicinity 
 of the cottage abounded. Heaps of the material, green and dried, strewed the 
 floor. The guide nodded to the couple, and passed through; they entered a 
 small shed, occupied by a rough-coated specimen of the long-eared tribe, whose 
 ostensible employ was to carry the manufactured article abroad for sale, 
 though the little cart which stood in front of the shed had many a time 
 and oft conveyed much more valuable commodities. The man unfastened the 
 halter of the donkey, and led it out of its narrow stable. Kicking aside the 
 litter on which the animal stood, he removed a tile, and grasping a rin~, 
 raised a trap. The two descended in silence a few stairs of hardened earth. 
 The man rapped at a board, and called aloud to the couple above to put back 
 the animal in its stable ; he opened a small and strong door, so small as to 
 make it necessary for them both to stoop on their hands and knees ; and after 
 groping several yards in this manner, they again rose on their feet at the foot 
 of a few steps similar to those by which they had entered. His companion 
 coughed thrice : a trap in the flooring above their heads was raised, and 
 Pa'iner and his companion emerged into a small apartment, in which were 
 seated two men, booted and spurred, busily engaged in despatching the 
 contents of a dish and a bottle. They looked hard at Palmer, and his guide 
 bro-'ie silence. 
 
 " It's all riglit," said he. " this is a friend of our pal George's." 
 
 '• Indeed ! " said one of the fellows, " it's queer that he sbould send a stranger 
 here ; though we can't grumble at what he does, seeing none of us have more 
 to risk than he. Seat yourself ; a friend of George's is always welcome." 
 
 So saying, one of them proffered a tumbler of spirits and water. 
 
 •'It's the right sort,'' said he, laughing; "the Queen's mixture ; though 
 we don't let her profit much by our consumption." 
 
 Palmer seated himself, and accepted the glass. The night wore on. His 
 companions were hearty fellows; and their free talk ; though at first it slightly 
 shocked Palmer — for in his country experience such lax notions of morality 
 had never assailed his ears — yet there was a daring, a generosity, and a style 
 of freedom in the character of their discourse, and the little snatches of 
 anecdote and adventure which enlivened it, which strongly excited his ad- 
 miration. Three hours had almost insensibly slipped away in this manner, 
 when the man he had first seen entered ; and announced that it was between 
 ten and eleven. 
 
 " Are the prads in the wood, Gregory? " asked one ; " who's with them ? " 
 
 " Young Redhead," replied the man ; " he's a 'cute one is that youngster. 
 P'raps though, you don't know as George is there too himself, Master Rose." 
 
 "The devil he is," said Rose ; "why, I didn't bargain for that. What d'ye 
 think on it, Ned ; is he come down to look after his snacks, eh? I thought 
 you and I were to put up this affair between us ?" 
 
 The highwayman was evidently irritated at this piece of information. His 
 uioopanion made no reply ; and he continued : — 
 
DICK TURPIN. 47 
 
 '* I don't think that George ever did the thing that wasshahhy, *<> my know- 
 ledge ; but this looks something like it. Excuse me, as you're a friend of his,'* 
 said he, turning to Palmer ; " but this little concern is entirely on my own 
 account; and though I'd cut my hand off afore I'd see a pal in distress, and 
 refuse him half of a haul, I don't like the look of Master George's coming 
 down just at this moment." 
 
 The character of Bill Rose was an anomaly. To the most reckless ex- 
 travagance he conjoined a jealous and avaricious disposition ; and tt is arrival 
 of Fielder, who was a master-spirit among them, awakened a misgiving that 
 some of the spoils of the enterprise were to be snatched from him. His con- 
 jectures were cut short by a whistle, succeeded by a cough, such as^Palmer had 
 heard from his guide. The men left the house by the back door; the conver- 
 sation dropped, and the party remained in anxious expectation. Two or three 
 minutes elapsed, and Jgain the signal being repeated below the floor, the 
 trap was raised, and Palmer's associate at the Compasses entered. Uncasing 
 his legs from a pair of stiff leather leggings, and throwing off a smock-frock, 
 George Fielder stood before them indeed an altered man. A gay scarlet coat 
 sat neatly on his symmetrical person ; leather don't-whisper 'ems, of the then 
 fashionable brimstone colour, and the most approved cut, covered his well- 
 formed leg ; boots, with spurs of massive silver, completed his equipment. 
 Observing Palmer's looks of surprise, he smilingly made him one of the courtly 
 and stately obeismces of the day, and surveying himself not a little vainly, 
 said, — 
 
 " Foregad, friend Dick, I've a fancy 1 might be taken for a gentleman just 
 now ! What think ye — would this do for a blood to sport at D'Osyndar's, 
 or Wills's? I've a bit of sport on, though I must own a little love of gain 
 is at the bottom of it. D'ye know, lads, that your scheme is off? — the Sar- 
 dinian envoy has net yet arrived ; his horses were countermanded three days 
 ago at Canterbury, and your game's up. But, hearken, my trumps, there's 
 another go afoot! Dick, my fine fellow, d'ye like revenge?" 
 
 Palmer did not exactly see the drift of all this : he knew not the fact with 
 which the reader is acquainted, of the regret and repentance of Sir Litton Wes- 
 ton, and how unwilling an instrument that person had been in the plot which 
 had led to his present desperate situation. He looked on him as the protector 
 and fellow-conspirator of Dennis : and often had he wished, when thinking 
 over the occurrences of the commitment and his escape, that' he had had the 
 opportunity of wreaking his vengeance on the principal rather than the subor- 
 dinate. 
 
 "I don't clearly understand you," said he; "on whom am I to be re- 
 venged ? " 
 
 "Why, you're rather dull, I'm thinking," replied Fielder: "who would you 
 like most to repay for the sufferings they've made you go through I 'specially 
 when you can serve yourself by so doing. Sir Litton leaves the Hall next 
 Thursday for London: I've learned that much; taking with him none l.ul his 
 steward: but there's more behind. He will carry with him for senHtv the 
 rents of his estate for the purpose of depositing them : the booty is in gold, lads 
 — in shining gold, which even its owner dare not swear to when once shook in 
 our purses. It must be done; and if you're the ruffler I doubt not I shall shortly 
 see you, why you shall have the chance of serving him as you please. No shoot- 
 ing though, mark me ; no taking his life. What say you to this, Dick ?" 
 
 The proposal startled Palmer. Circumstances had led him into his present 
 
48 DICK run PIN. 
 
 companionship ; and though captivated with the wild adventurous life \»hick 
 they led, this proposal of robbory came suddenly and unpleasantly upon him. 
 
 " Well, if you're afraid to join us,'' said Fielder sarcastically, " I'm only 
 sorry I proposed it — that's all. I thought you'd have snapped at the chance 
 of making yourself independent, and punishing your dirty persecutor at the 
 same time. However — " 
 
 The imputation on his courage conveyed by the first part of this speech was 
 too much for our hero ; and the more than hint at dependence — for the few 
 shillings Palmer had brought away with him Were expended — called the blood 
 into his cheeks. 
 
 "Afraid!" said he, looking angrily at Fielder, who regarded him with a 
 friendly smile ; " afraid of what ! — of Litton Weston ? No ! Show me the 
 spot where I shall meet him, and see if I fear him, or you, or any other man. 
 Nevertheless — " 
 
 ♦• Bravo ! well said !" interrupted Fielder ; ** spoken like a lad of spirit : but 
 don't ride rusty, for I mean you well. I see you're a little touchy on this 
 point, and I won't press you. Comrades, will you join us?" 
 
 So saying Fielder seated himself, and desired the man to go to the broom- 
 maker's hut, and tell the old woman to " toss him up a bit of something.'' 
 Rose and his companion would not join them. 
 
 "JN T o!" said Bill Rose, "these are queer times: I've been d — d unlucky of 
 late, and I can't afford to idle. Curse me, but I think they've some way of even 
 doing us when we do chance to nail 'em. I've known the time when any 
 grazier *ud cut up for a fifty ; but now my last three chops got me what ? 
 I'm d — d if I an't ashamed to mention it — that I am." 
 
 " Bill Rose," retorted Fielder, " you're the most grumbling hound I ever met 
 with. Why the deuce don't you sit down, and make your miserable life happy. 
 D'ye think no one draws blanks in life's lottery but yourself?'' 
 
 " I couldn't make myself easy," said Rose ; " I reckoned on this lay as a 
 sure one ; and now, as if the devil dealt the cards, and the black suit was 
 trumps, I'm done again. But it's no use grieving, as you say; so I'll e'en 
 take a look at the face of Oliver* for an hour, and a canter over the hill. 
 What say you?*' said he to his companion; " there may be luck on the cards 
 for us yet." 
 
 The last words were uttered in a more cheerful tone ; and after a few 
 minutes' bustle examining the priming of their pistols, tightening the knee- 
 straps of their boots, and encasing themselves ea<-h in an ample rdquefaire, 
 Rose and his companion, wishing them a hearty good night, and declaring 
 their intention, should fortune favour them, to return again shortly, left the 
 cottage. 
 
 "I'm not sorry, altogether, that he's gone," said Fielder, seating himself: 
 " he's a strange fellow, that. Although lavish of his money, I never saw man 
 so graspingly eager to obtain it: he would wrangle with his best pal for a fraction 
 of booty, and then give up the whole of it upon an appeal to his generosity. 
 The bottle stands with you. By the bye — well thought of. I suppose you 
 are aware that in our profession we are usually known among our intimate* 
 bv some other name than the one which may have come to us by inheritance 
 from our forefathers. You have not yet been called by name before my asso- 
 ciates : what is your name, friend Palmer?" 
 
 Fielder laughed as he said this; and after some further conversation 
 
 * Tim moon 
 
 : .'" -V 
 
DICK TURPI N. 
 
 49 
 
 The Meeting of Turpin and Biack Dennis. 
 
 the gist of which was, the many instances in which Fielder had found the eon- 
 venience.s of an alias, and the ludicrous mistakes and misunderstandings which 
 his questionable identity had given vise to. 
 
 The dish had been emptied, the same office, more than once, done for 
 the flask, though but a small time had been suffered to pass between each re- 
 plenishment of the latter; and the night had grown old, before Rose returned, 
 though without his companion. His spirits were evidently lighter than at his 
 departure. He glanced round the apartment, then throwing himself on a 
 chair, he laughed aloud. 
 
 " You've lost a treat, George,'"' said he, " by not going with us. I can't 
 help laughing when I think how grievous the old Doctor looked at taking 
 his own physic ! ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Laugh a little softly," said Fielder, " zounds, man, d'ye think ve're on 
 Salisbury plain. You're always so confoundedly down in the month, or else 
 riding the high horse, that no one knows where to have yoa. Drink, and it 
 you've anything worth telling, out with it." 
 
 "Oh, nothing for that matter," replied Rose: " I've been prescribing a 
 little, that's all ; and Bob Handley acted as my assistant. But I'll tell you: 
 We'd only just cleared the hill, when what should we see coming after us 
 but a cove, on a stiff cob, cutting along like a reprieve; he rod? up. 'Hallo! 
 my fine fellow,' says I, « is it life and death busin e^s you're on? Stand! if 
 you're a true man !' H would, I dare say, have said something, only he was 
 too much blown ; so he looked rather blue at our pops as we laid hold of his 
 . No. 7 
 
Ik) DICK TURPIN 
 
 bridle, and at last he found his tongue. ' Gentlemen,' says be, ' I hope 
 you'll be merciful ; I'm only a poor serving man, and I-—' ' Where are you 
 riding to at this rate V ' I've been to town,' says the poor devil, half 
 frightened out of his wits, • to fetch the doctor for master, who's main bad wi' a' 
 surfeit, and he's a coming down the road as fast as he can.' ' Here's luek, Bob, 
 say's I, • a doctor's better than nothing, though he's generally richer pluck- 
 ing after leaving his patient than before.' We let the scurvv fellow go, and 
 in a few minutes, sure enough, up drives the carriage. You know my way 
 Bob takes the post-boy, while I paid my respects to old Potion, and a pretty 
 fair go we made of it.' ' ': ■.*». 
 
 The highwayman here emptied his pockets on the table. The massive gold 
 head of the long cane which the physicians of olden days invariably smelt at 
 consultations, a single stone ring set with a large brilliant, a heavygold snuffbox, 
 and a valuable Tompion watch, of the same material, were among the spoils, 
 and finally the robber jingled upon the table a green silk purse of large di- 
 mensions, evidently well lined with guineas. «••.>» 
 
 " I call that none so dusty," said Rose with a chuckle, after a survey of the 
 booty before him. " But the best's behind. I'd ha' let the old hunks go if he 
 hadn't tried to put the queer on us with his purse and ring. While handing 
 me his ticker, with many grunts and groans, he managed to drop the skin* 
 and fawney* I twigged the dodge though ; so when he comes to fork out 
 the snuffbox and cane, I says, 'Well, my dear doctor, if ever I require your 
 services I'll send for you, but I should like to borrow a guinea or two of you 
 that I may be ready with the fee. 1 The old bilk began swearing and vowing, 
 that he had not a shilling, that we had stripped him to the last farthing, and 
 all that sort of gammon, so at last, finding it was no use talking, I turns him 
 out in the road under care of Bob while I had a regular rummage of his 
 drag ; Bob meantime borrowing his wig, and along with the rest I finds a lot 
 of physic. Says I to Bob, 'What does the old kill-mant deserve for trying 
 to put the kybosh on us in this way V ' Desarve,' says Bob ; ' why to be 
 obligated to take his own physic, and I knows nothing worse.' ' And that 
 he shall do,' says I, ' if it was only to teach him not to play tricks on St. 
 Nicholas's clerks.' You'd have split to have seen the phiz of old Rhubarb. 
 ' For God's sake, gentlemen,' says he, ' don't think of such a thing, you'll be 
 my death ;* ' Depend on't then, you licensed murderer,' says I, ' you shall 
 take every drop. If it 'ull kill you, you old wretch, how dare you give it to 
 other folks V Well he began a long argufying to show how it might do good 
 to other people, though it would p'ison him ; but I cut hjm short ; and by 
 the persuasion of a slight rap or two on the head, a kick or two on the 
 breech, and putting my popgun unpleasantly close to his listener, I made him 
 swallow all, both out of bottles and boxes, shoved him into the drag more 
 dead than alive, and shutting him up wished him a fine night and a pleasant 
 journey. Ecod he's in a prime pickle by this time, I'm thinking, and 'ull 
 want putting to bed after his surfeit as bad as his patient. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 What do you think o't hat M r. a — a — what's your name ?" 
 
 " Turpin," replied Fielder readily. 
 
 " And what else, if we come to be better acquainted ?" asked Rose. 
 
 " Dick," said Fielder, " Dick Turpin, to be sure, and a staunch lad 
 you'll find him, or I much mistake." 
 
 • Purs* and ring. + A cant phrase for n doc* v. 
 
DICK TURI'IN. 
 
 51 
 
 Rose talked h'n self into a good humour ; tae bottle was again filled, 
 and as the last twinkling star paled in the heavens before the brill knee of 
 coming day, the party broke up, and Dick Turpin, having been shown a 
 bed in the upper floor of the cottage, betook himself to his much-needed 
 repose. 
 
 It has been truly said we are but the creatures of circumstance, The 
 circle into which the fate of Turpin had thrown him, soon produced the 
 change of character such associations were calculated to effect on his young 
 and ardent temperament. The love of adventure was strong within him ; the 
 idea of being indebted for the mere means of subsistence to a community 
 whose perils he shared not, and in whose exertions he took no part, was in- 
 compatible with his independent spirit. Several times did misgivings dart 
 across his mind ; and more than one scheme of future conduct did he frame — 
 the basis of each, however, crumbled on examination, and he felt that to the 
 success of his enterprise on the coming Thursday, he must look for the mean& 
 of extricating himself from his present position. 
 
 The " heart of man is deceitful above all things" said the son of David, 
 some two thousand years since, and the experience of later generations has 
 justified him in adding that it is moreover " desperately wicked." Dick was 
 no philosopher, or he would have known that there is scarcely a recorded case 
 in the history of humanity, in which the first step in crime proved to be the 
 last. It is not in the nature of things that it should be so. The irritating 
 consciousness of wrong-doing, like the excitement of liquor, leads on its victim 
 to further excesses, and the robber and the drunkard alike become the 
 prey of the demon of avarice or of intoxication. " No man is bad but 
 by degrees," and it is the first step in the descending scale which is fraught 
 with all the danger — the entrance to crime, like Dante's gate of hell, bears on iti 
 portal, lasciate ogni speranza, and of the thousands who have stept within.itt 
 charmed threshold, and have bitterly lamented the sophisms of self-conceit 
 which have deluded them with the vain hope of escape from its upas influ- 
 ence, few are there whose resolution has enabled them to return, again to 
 mingle, unspotted, with the white-robed children of honesty and innocence. 
 We know the cant of preachers of " repentance" will repudiate this unwel- 
 come truth. We know the open- mouthed clamou* with which it will be 
 received ; yet, though we deny not the merit and efficacy of sincere repentance, 
 we cannot qualify or extenuate the position, that the man who indulges 
 himself in one flagrant crime, though " laying the; flattering unction to his 
 soul," that it is the first and last — has found or will ever find it so. Crime is 
 a stimulant ; the agitating hopes and fears attendant on its committal, and 
 the dread of detection, like the delirium of the gaming table or of the grape> 
 unseat the reason of its victim ; and the moral principle, which alone rules in 
 a sound mind and a sound body, deposed from its sovereignty, is trampled 
 beneath the hoof of passion. The first crime is tiie irrevocable seal of 
 man's fate — ce tt'sst que le premier pas qui coute — an«d though he pause and 
 deliberate asjto the expediency of committing his first offence, all after delin 
 quencies follow smoothly in its train. 
 
 Thus it was with Turpin — the attractive piece of hell's pavement* he had 
 •o prettily tesselated, and the imaginary masonry of which showed so 
 smoothly and attractive to his glowing fancy, was destined to be shivered by 
 
 • TL« rorluguese proverb gays, " Hull ia paved witb goo<! inteutltms.' 
 
52 DICK TUIU'IN. 
 
 the force of the stubborn truth we have just enunciated. The Thursday 
 mentioned in a former page came and went, and as evening drew on, the 
 enterprise in which he was engaged produced an excitement that had all the 
 charm of novelty. The sun was just shooting his last slant ray over the 
 undulatory outline of the Kentish hills, when Fielder arrived at the hut ; he 
 had been to London for the purpose of procuring the necessary disguise for 
 Dick. The spruce highwayman had become so little to be distinguished by 
 his dress from the travelling gentleman of the day, that the safest disguise 
 was unquestionably that which the unthinking vulgar could consider no dis- 
 guise at all ; namely, the fashionable costume of the time. The lappelled 
 waistcoat and large cuffed coat, the three-cocked hat with its narrow border 
 of silver or gold, and all the requisites for his equipments, down to the 
 short topped boots, crooked spurs, and holster pistols, had been provided by 
 the considerate Fielder ; and within a few minutes of his arrival from town, 
 the cart, which beneath a load of unsold brooms conveyed these and other 
 necessaries, drove into the little yard before described. Turpin speedily 
 equipped himself, and smock-frocks having, as a measure of precaution, been 
 slipped over their dress, they left the cottage. 
 
 A minute's walk brought them into a narrow lane, which leading directly 
 through the Plumstead Marshes and the wood near Welling, debouched about 
 midway up the elevation of Shooter's Hill ; the lower end led to the little 
 ferry by which the then few inhabitants of Woolwich communicated with the 
 opposite shore of Essex. This lane they crossed, and after diving a few 
 paces into the wood, Fielder stopped. 
 
 " How like you, our project ?" said he, with an air of raillery ; " if you 
 Knew any just cause or impediment, speak now, or for ever after hold your 
 peace : as the parson has it." 
 
 Turpin was too much excited to think rightly. " D'ye think, George ;" 
 replied he, with a braggadocio swagger, intended as much to impose upon 
 himself as his companioa ; " D'ye think I'm the chieken-hearted skulker to 
 shrink from a friend? Put me to the proof, and, if I shrink, shoot me for a 
 cur." 
 
 " You're a trump," said Fielder ; " so now for it." Applying his fingers 
 
 to his mouth the highwayman gave a low and soft whistle, which he followed 
 
 by a cooing sound resembling the note of the woodpigeon. The peculiar 
 
 * tu-whit, tu-whoo !" of the night-jar was the only reply that broke upon 
 
 /the ear. 
 
 „ " That's a born devil," said George. 
 , " What ?" said Turpin ; " I heard nothing but an owl.'' 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" laughed his companion, " why Dick, my worthy, you'll know 
 '■* better some day. Thatyounker has as many tricks as the busiest imp of his 
 father, and he's old Nick for certain. Coo-o ! coo-o !" repeated Fielder. 
 i Again the owl was heard, though this time much nearer. 
 
 They had now reached a small cleared space of verdant turf; the sky sti 
 glowed ruddily in the west ; and aloft in the quarter of the heavens still 
 blushing at the departure of the god of day, mildly beamed the golden lamp 
 of the solitary evening star. A few tufts of fleecy clouds, light as the gossa- 
 mer, reposed tranquilly in the blue expanse ; and the short sharp chirrup of 
 nsect life, and the whirr of the goat-moth as it hovered about the boughs, or 
 the rough buzz of the cockchafer, as it blindly dashed its bulky and mail-clad 
 body against the intiiidcr's person, were the only sounds or signs of life that 
 
HICK TURPIN 63 
 
 met the eye or ear. Fielder shaded his eyes with his hand as he peered 
 curiously through the shadows of the wood: a rustling sound was heard, and 
 through a narrow bridle path which opened on the space beforementioned, a 
 lad advanced leading by either hand a horse saddled and bridled, each deco- 
 rated with a thick sheepskin shabrack and leathern holsters. 
 
 " How now, Redhead, my lad ! where's Bess? You don't think I'd give the 
 sorrel to a friend, do you ?" said Fielder, with some dissatisfaction, as he 
 surveyed the steeds. 
 
 " Why that's no fault o' moine," replied the lad, who from the foxy 
 colour of his caput had an unquestionable claim to the title of Redhead : 
 " a' knows he's a bit of a shier loike, and that a' kicks noo and then ; but a' can't 
 help that. Master Wheeler said — saving your presence, sir ;" addressing 
 Dick, " as 'twere no great matter which on em I tuk — Sorrel or Witch — sein' 
 as there wur no need chancing mischief to Bess wi' a green un." The fellow 
 gave a simple grin as he said this, as if unconscious of any rudeness ; though 
 a furtive twinkle of the eye as he caught the rising expression of anger on 
 Fielder's countenance, might have been seen by an acute observer. 
 
 " And who, the h — and d — n !" vociferated Fielder, " is to settle for me what 
 horses I shall ride, much more how I shall mount my friends. Ned Wheeler, 
 too, the skulking, smuggling, peaching vagabond ! Come, lead us on directly, 
 and get Bess saddled quickly ; fly, jump," and he cracked his riding whip 
 within an inch or two of the leather-cased calves of Redhead. 
 
 The lad led back the horses the way he came, and the two followed him: emerg- 
 ing from the wood a footpath between two hedges brought them to a turnstile ; 
 the top of this Redhead quickly removed, and thereby afforded passage for the 
 quadrupeds into a shed, the front of which abutted on a yard strewed with 
 wheels, whole, broken, and under repair, rough .spokes, logs, and all the 
 other symbols of a wheelwright's trade. Passing laterally through this shed 
 without exposing themselves by entering the yard, a small door at its 
 side conducted them into the snug stable of a hedge ale-house. A noble 
 brute stood at the manger; the eye of Fielder sparkled, as he rapidly 
 surveyed her form ; she was in truth a study for a painter. 
 
 Her head,— and in no part is blood and breed so strikingly developed — was 
 small and angular ; from the small white star on her ample forehead, her 
 finely chiselled head tapered toward the muzzle, and as suddenly swelled 
 out to form the widely dilated cartilaginous nostril, so essential not 
 only to beauty, but to free respiration; her lips were thin, firm, and well 
 supported. Full, large, bright and expressive eyes, bespoke her intelli- 
 gence; while her small and spirited ears, placed wide apart, gave token by 
 their constant and lively action of her spirit, temper and endurance. 
 Her beautifully arched neck, entering the chest just above the point of 
 her shoulder, fine and smooth above, but displaying a chiselled muscularity 
 iu its lower parts, supported lightly and without fatigue the exquisitely formed 
 head. The starting muscles of the forearm, close-knit joints, and deep 
 flat wiry shanks, the flexors of which stood prominently from the bone ; the 
 slanting and elastic pastern, the neatly rounded and solid foot, all spoke 
 eloquently of speed, bottom, and strength to carry her through the 
 severest tasks which an exacting master could demand from the noblest 
 servant of man. A long back, broad loins, muscular gaskins and flat hocks 
 impressed, even on the most indifferent observer, the idea of her prodigious 
 power. Her withors, though aJ»*vently low, were fine; slooing show!'- 
 
54 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 broa chest and depth of girth, announced her endurance to oe equa'i-! 
 (iot»Tj'by her epeed. Beautiful in form, graceful in action, and docile !■■ 
 temper, she playfully evinced her satisfaction at the caresses which Turpin 
 bestowed on her. Fielder viewed with pleasure the surprise and admiration 
 of our hero, who was himself no mean critic in all matters of horseflesh. He 
 was gratified by his young friend's judicious praise. 
 
 44 She'll do any thing but talk, friend Dick," said he, looking at her with 
 almost a lover's eye ; " where would you see such another? not in the king's 
 stables, I warrant you ; though there's fine cattle there. Too much of the 
 thick German blood though to show such as she : there's Eastern fire in 
 those veins, Dick, and no mistake ! Fleet as a greyhound, lively as a kitten — 
 her age ? you don't guess it, for a guinea!" 
 
 " Done," said Dick, good humouredly, " five years old ; d'ye like that ?" 
 
 M Your guinea, Dick," said Fielder, " but you can owe it me," and steppin 
 o the mare's head, he exhibited her mouth. 
 
 " Three years,* by jingo !" said Dick, as he surveyed with astonishment 
 the central permanent nippers but just developed. " Why, r "V's this? Fd 
 have sworn her a full-grown mare." 
 
 " The knowing ones are taken in when they meet a ph* ^omenon ;'' said 
 Fielder, merrily ; " and Black Bess is one. But time presses." 
 
 Whrle this conversation was going forward, Redhead was busily engaged 
 in transferring the accoutrements from Sorrel to the back of the noble charger. 
 " She'll want no spur," said Fielder, " I pride myself, Dick, on the finest 
 woman, and the best bred prad,'that brass and a good figure can procure. So 
 ho ! Bess ! Egad, I've forgot till this moment, to ask you whether you've 
 pluck to mount her ; she's young and skittish as a maid, and as ticklish to 
 manage. Soho, Bess ! gently." While thus speaking Fielder himself 
 tightened the girths, measured the length of the stirrups with his eye, and 
 gave several other little marks of attention to the equipment; finally? 
 having passed his hand down each taper leg from the knee to the fetlock, he 
 desired Redhead to lead her forth. They were soon in the wood, and Turpin, 
 who among his many feats of personal activity, reckoned that of being a 
 bold and skilful rider, crossed his steed with a vault which won the heart of 
 the generous Fielder. 
 
 The two walked their steeds slowly in the direction of the river, and having 
 arrived within a hundred yards of the spot, they met. the returning Redhead, 
 who^ having hastened to the waterside, now met them with the welcome in- 
 telligence that the boat was ready. Fielder tossed the boy a piece of silvei 
 and both horses were soon on board. 
 
 • " When the envoy returning from bis former mission was encamped near Bagdad 
 an Arab rode a bright bay mare of extraordinary shape and beauty before his tent, 
 until we attracted his attention. On being asked if he would sell her ; ' Why what will 
 you give me Y was the reply. * That depends upon her age. I suppose she is past 
 five !' ' Guess again,' said he. ' Four T ' Look at her mouth,' said the Arab with a smile. 
 On examination, she was found to be rising three. This, from her size and symmetry, 
 greatly enhanced her value. The envoy said, * I will give you fifty tomans' (a coin 
 nearly the value of a pound sterling) ' A little more if you please,' said the fellow 
 apparently entertained. ' Eighty, a hundred.' He shook his bead and smiled. The 
 offer at last came to two hundred tomans. ' Well, said the Arab, ' you need not 
 tempt me further ; it's of no use — you are a rich elchel (nobleman) You have fine 
 norses, camels, and mules, and, I am told you have loads of silver and gold. Now, 
 added he, ' you want my mare, but vou shall not have her for all you've got."— Sir J, 
 U*ieobn't t S!.etches t/ Persia. 
 
DICK TURFIR 
 
 " Olirer whiddlet* to night," said Fielder, " a few more blindst would be 
 no harm." 
 
 " Ay, ay, Sir," said the man who was labouring at the long oars of the 
 horse-ferry boat, and who was evidently no novice in the service he # was en- 
 gaged in. "Ay, ay, but you'll have a shower, or an hour or two's by yet ; 
 I can feel it i'the wind'; and see just in its eye there, how it's thickening. 
 We'll have a dirty night, or ould Dan's a long way out — and that's what he 
 seldom is." 
 
 The boat grided on the gravelly causeway, and the party stepped out. 
 
 " The time and signal?" said the grey-headed fisherman, for such he 
 seemed. 
 
 " Two ; but d — n it Dan can t you have Tom here with the boat, in case 
 time should press us ?" 
 
 "No," replied the other, " that's^ unpossible ; Tom's oft" on along-shore- 
 lay ;% and there's no knowin' when he'll be back — at least for sartain — but 
 I'll do the thing. Though 't wont do to have the boat beached o f this side 
 the river." 
 
 " Well," said Fielder, " needs must when the d — 1 drives ; so bear a hand 
 old blue-light, and keep a sharp look out for three flashes of loose powder on 
 the edge of the osier bed here away on the right. " 
 
 " Ay, ay, your honour,'' replied Dan ; " I'll warrant as you shan't wait." 
 
 And leading their horses on to the level causeway, the two horsemen rode 
 smartly onward for the great high road through the forest of Hainault. 
 
 Is there "anything more calculated to give a fillip to the blood, to quicken 
 the circulation, and raise the animal spirits, then a bursting gallop on a cool 
 nio-ht, beneath the flickering beams of a partially obscured moon ? The clouds 
 had gathered over half of the horizon, and the moistness of the breeze as it 
 came in the faces of the riders was invigorating. 
 
 Though well mounted, Fielder found some difficulty in keeping pace with 
 his companion. 
 
 " She's all that you can wish," said he, making an exertion to draw up 
 to her head, " but recollect she's young, and not what she will be a year or 
 two hence." Dick reined in. 
 
 " Here's a right sort of night," said Fielder, " another mile and we're there." 
 A few slight spits of rain came down the wind. 
 
 " Bravo," said Fielder, " this will do ;" again their pace was quickened, 
 and after crossing a portion of the forest at a slapping pace, they found them 
 selves on the desired high road. 
 
 " Hold hard," cried Fielder, and they stopped. They listened ; no sound 
 was audible, save the dropping rain from the branches of the water-loaded 
 trees, as their tufted heads shook in the passing breeze, for the shower had 
 now ceased. M He can't have passed," soliloquised Fielder ; " 'tis yet scarce 
 ten, and his horses are ordered at the Spread Eagle§ at that time, and it'll 
 take 'em a while to put 'em into his old clumsy drag." 
 
 Turpin felt a new and unwonted sensation of anxiety creep over him as the 
 time approached. It was not fear ; it was rather a yearning to do boldly in 
 the business, and justify the flattering estimate of his prowess which he could 
 not help seeing his admired companion had formed. To him the character 
 
 • The moon blabs ; tell tales. f Clouds. } A smuggling adventure. 
 
 $ A well known inn on Epj ir.g Forest. 
 
ft DlCl* TURI'liN. 
 
 and avocation of George Fielder embodied enough of romance ami au- 
 venture completely to silence all conscientious scruples ; and his gene- 
 rosity and frankness had so attached our hero to his fortunes, that in the 
 ardour of his youthful single-mindedness, he would have hazarded life in his 
 defence. Again they listened — Fielder dismounted, and placing his ear close 
 to the ground, said hastily, " Back, back under yonder tree ; Til give the signal. 
 Just nicked, by Jupiter ! Hark !" 
 
 Dick listened ; the grating, crushing whirr of carriage wheels, as they 
 rolled heavily along the drift road, moistened by the recent rain, grated on 
 the ear. 
 
 " Ready, lad ? eh?" said Fielder, having thrown his horse's bridle over a 
 stake in the hedge at the road-side. " Ri le out ahead of the horses and pre- 
 sent — then to the carriage window — I've already told you the rest. — They 
 
 come." 
 
 The lumbering family carriage of the Westons neared them as these words 
 were spoken. The well-fed long-tailed Flanders horses which drew it made 
 but small progress in their heavy trot; and while the carriage was yet some 
 twenty yards from the spot where the horseman and footman lay in ambush, 
 our hero, in his nervousness lest the prize should pass and thus overwhelm 
 him with what he deemed eternal disgrace, emerged from the shadow of the 
 huge elm beneath which they were concealed. 
 
 " Confound it," exclaimed Fielder, as he saw Dick advance towards the 
 carriage, in full view of the driver, with pistol in hand — "He'll get shot — 
 it's too late now to back, s here goes, if it is to be a fight." So saying he 
 rushed forward, and just as our hero, in an authorative tone, had ordered 
 the postillion to stop, Fielder seized the horses' heads, and presenting a pis- 
 tol, bade Dick see to the inside passengers. Quick as thought he was at 
 the window — and to his ready and decisive " Deliver," the voice of Mr. 
 Sheepshanks was heard, declaring, in a tone rendered ludicrously tremulous 
 by terror, that they possessed nothing to deliver. 
 
 " Open the door !" exclaimed Dick. 
 
 The trembling arm of the steward of Sir Litton was stretched over the 
 panel, and the door opened. Sir Litton was not within ; he had commissioned 
 his steward and Mr. Sheepshanks to convey the cash to London for deposit at 
 his banker's. The booty was contained in three or four stout canvass bags 
 placed on the seat of the carriage. The parley was short. " Hand out," 
 cried Turpin ; " d'ye suppose I'll condescend to take k ; no ! Throw the bags 
 on the ground, and we'll spare your sneaking lives ; conceal but one of them 
 and you die !" 
 
 Three bags were thrown with great deliberation and much hesitation from 
 the interior of the carriage, and a pause took place. 
 
 " How many?" asked Fielder, who still held the bridle-rein. 
 
 " Three !" replied our hero. 
 
 " It won't do ; there are five," said Fielder positively ; anotner oag came 
 forth. 
 
 " Another !" said Dick, accompanying tne demand with a threatening 
 gesture. Sheepshanks threw it tremblingly from the seat. 
 
 " Five ?" demanded Fielder. 
 
 " All right!" replied Turpin. 
 
 " You may go !" said Fielder, loosing his noid of the rein. 
 
 The terrified postillion clapped spur to his near horse, while with hearty 
 
 r 
 
DICK TURF 1 IN. 
 
 57 
 
 Mr, Jalap'* Midnight Summons 
 
 good-will he applied the whip to the flanks of the other. The travellers in 
 the carriage had placed a good fifty yards or more between themselves and 
 the highwaymen, who had just secured the bags which lay on the road, when 
 the flash of a pistol was seen from the coach window, and an instant after 
 the smart crack of its report reached their ears ; it was out of the range of 
 even a better description of firearms. Fielder laughed derisively, 
 
 " That's the lawyer's shot, I'll warrant. Foregad, the vermin has the will 
 though not the power to do mischief. I reckon that's rather out of the 
 record, though — as old six-and-eightpence, my Lyon's-Inn master, used to 
 say." ( Fielder had qualified himself for his present profession by having 
 "followed the law," which now returned the compliment by occasionally fol- 
 lowing him.) "Shall we ride after and give him a taste of the nearest horse- 
 pond ; eh, comrade?" 
 
 " Say the word, and I'm off with you," replied Turpin. 
 
 " Off then '." said Fielder. 
 
 A minute's ride brought them to the carriage ; it was again shopped ; and 
 the lawyer, half dead with terror, was dragged into the road. 
 
 " For the love of mercy, gentlemen," shrieked Octavius, " don't murder me ; 
 I'm not fit to die ; help I help!" 
 No. 8, 
 
58 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Hold that cursed yell," said Fielder, giving him a hearty kick in that 
 part of the person where honour is supposed to reside, in men of other pro- 
 fessions ; for it has not yet been proved that honour dwells in any part of the 
 lawyer race. " Take hold of his legs, Dick, there's a horsepond handy, and 
 he'll be in no danger of drowning, for I guess he's meant for a drier death." 
 
 At this moment a confused noise of shouting and galloping was heard in 
 the far distance. Fielder and Dick paused. Terror tied the tongue of Sheep- 
 shanks. The sound of horsemen approaching at a rapid rate was distinctly 
 audible. 
 
 "To horse! to horse, lad!" cried Fielder, whose experience as yet gave 
 him the command ; dropping the lawyer, not in the softest manner, in the 
 road, and giving him a parting roll in his native mud, the comrades quickly 
 mounted. They drew aside. 
 
 " It won't do to stop, I see," said Fielder ; these new-comers have heard 
 the cracker — they'll smoke the rig we've been at, so morris is the word." 
 
 They struck into the wood, and pursuing their course in silence for a few 
 moments at a slack pace they listened attentively. The halt of horsemen, for 
 there appeared to be several, on coming to the spot where Octavius Sheep- 
 shanks still lay prostrate, was clearly heard by them. But they were not pre- 
 pared for what followed. 
 
 The party who arrived thus opportunely to the rescue of Mr. Sheepshanks, 
 consisted of the guests at a fox-hunting party, given on the day in question by 
 a sporting squire of the neighbourhood. It numbered among its members 
 the under-sheriff of Essex. Octavius soon made them acquainted with the 
 position of affairs ; and our highwaymen, who were pursuing the even tenour 
 of their way leisurely over the green sward, to avoid the noise of their horses' 
 hoofs, were astonished, though not daunted, by a sudden view halloo from the 
 party of joskins, as they supposed them to be. 
 
 "Yoicks! Tally ho!" sung out some of the younger ones who cared little 
 what they rode after, so as it was a hunt ; and "Yoicks ! tally ho ! " was suc- 
 ceeded by a crashing of branches, and the hollow sound of more than one 
 horse's hoofs after a lofty leap. Crash went the underwood, hurrah ! shouted 
 the riders. Fielder looked at Turpin ; the latter smiled. 
 
 "Shall we face 'em, George?" 
 
 " No, no, that will never do ; now for it, follow me?" 
 
 Fielder had forgotten at the moment how Dick was mounted ; instead of fol- 
 lowing, three or four bounds brought Bess a length or two ahead of her com- 
 petitor. Turpin held her in, and a gallop at the top of the speed of Fielder's 
 prad commenced. He too was mounted on a horse of great strength and en- 
 durance. Independent of the excellence of their nags, they had another 
 advantage : the horses of their pursuers were jaded, the work had been taken 
 out of them during the day. This was evident, by the distance Turpin and 
 his pal soon placed between them. 
 
 "This is glorious sport," said Dick, exultingly; "on the back of such a 
 mare as this who could feel fear? She springs under me as if she carried fea- 
 ther weight, and I guess, George, I ride some twelve stone, or nigh hand to 
 it?" 
 
 Still the gallop continued, with an occasional pause ; but each stoppage 
 told them the pursuit was unabated. 
 
 " Damme, George," said Turpin, "but these are plucky lads; how long will 
 they follow without a chance ? " 
 
DICK TURPIN. S9 
 
 «' They think they know of one," said Fielder ; " and if Old Dan is'nt 
 handy, we shall have a few dykes and drains to leap yet, before we double 
 'em. They know how the land lies, that's clear. We're on the roadway ef 
 Barking Level, and that's the only way to the river side ; but they hav'nt put 
 salt on our tails yet *' 
 
 They were now fast nearing the river. The point to which they were 
 directing their course was the spot formed by the embouchure of the creek 
 dividing Plaistow Level from the broad Level of Barking, and known as 
 Creek Point. A century since, this land consisted of beds of reeds and osiers. 
 Our highwaymen spurred their steeds on to the gravelled causeway. The 
 Thames, at this spot, trending to the north-east from Gallion's Point, ex- 
 panded into Barking Reach, then doubling the point known as Cross Ness, 
 stretched away to the south-east into another reach known as Halfway Reach. 
 The shore, opposite the level at whose western extremity they now stood, 
 sloped away ; they glanced anxiously along its reed-lined border. Their pursuers 
 were but just audible in the distance. Fielder rode along the skirts of the osier- 
 bed, through which the road led to the river side : drawing the charge from 
 one of his pistols, he filled the pan with some priming powder, and, flashing 
 it three times, looked anxiously across the Thames. No sign of recognition 
 appeared on the opposite shore, and the flitting clouds which ever and anon 
 obscured the moon's light, rendered objects difficult to be discerned : in vain 
 did they strain their eyes to make out the ferry-boat ; the objects on the 
 opposite shore were undistinguishable. Fielder's heart beat anxiously as the 
 sounds of voices came down the wind. He rejoined Turpin, and the two stood 
 side by side on the narrow causeway. It was low water, and the two shining 
 banks of smooth mud lay on either side of them. 
 
 " If we mean to double 'em through the marshes, we must go back a little 
 inland,'' said Fielder. 
 
 " Let's face 'em ;" replied Turpin ; " a bold dash and we can ride through 
 them : Come on I" 
 
 "No," said George, meditatively; "that won't do." 
 
 A pause ensued, during which Fielder appeared to be listening with some- 
 thing like indecision to the approaching horsemen who were now near enough 
 to be counted. There were some dozen of them ; including a straggler or two 
 whose horseflesh had refused to keep pace with their wishes. 
 
 " Shall we swim the river V asked Turpin ; " or, take my horse ; I'm better 
 mounted than you. I'll check them till you can get off." Fielder looked at 
 him with grateful surprise. 
 
 " We'll do it !" said George, as if decided by the last proposal. They 
 turned their horses' heads towards the water. 
 
 Fielder took the bags, weighty with the precious metal, from Turpin, who 
 had thus far carried them in a leathern saddle-bag. Carefully closing its 
 mouth with a piece of cord, he desired his companion to note particularly the 
 precise spot of their deposit. It was nearly low water, and Fielder, walking 
 along the elevated platform of the landing-place until knee-deep, felt cautiously 
 with his foot for the edge of the road-way : having ascertained it, he dipped 
 his hand, grasping the treasure, slowly beside the planking and piles which 
 formed its sides, and committed the weighty mass to the bottom, in water so 
 deep as to prevent its exposure by the receding tide. Turpin watched him 
 attentively. 
 
 " So far, so good," said Fielder, " we can do very well without ballast for 
 
00 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 this voyage ; am! when next we've occasion to come fishirfg, may be we »hall 
 know where to catch gold-fish ; eh, Dick ? But, by goles, here are our anx- 
 ious friends coming faster than I bargained for." He hastily leapt into the 
 •addle. 
 
 " Halloo ! hoicks !" cried eoroe of the foxhunters whom the juice of the grape 
 had stimulated to a temper to ride at anything. It was a moment of intense 
 interest. While hope on the one hand mounted almost to delight, anxiety 
 with our friends was almost strong enough to be called fear. A few short, 
 shrill, sharp notes of a hunting horn, mingled with a distant hoicks! hoicks ! 
 were borne on the breeze ; and helter skelter down the narrow ride " the field" 
 came floundering on. A knot of the best horsemen were far in advance — 
 having completely tailed off the main body — who, toiling along with " faulter- 
 ing Bteps and slow," brought up the rear. 
 
 Coolly and undauntedly Turpin and his pal walked their horses Into the 
 stream : a few yards and the animals were swimming steadily. The tide 
 was still running down, though being near to its time of flood, the meeting 
 waters of the mighty sea had checked its power. They had cleared the shore 
 tome twenty yards when the foremost of the party arrived on the causeway : 
 a broken cloud gave them a full view of the highwaymen. 
 
 " Escaped, by G — !" exclaimed one ; " shall we follow them V 
 
 Two or three of the pursuers rode into the water and discharged their 
 pistols; for at the time we are writing of, the insecurity of highways, and the 
 general practice of travelling on horseback, made it a thing of course that each 
 mounted man should be furnished with the means of self-defence. 
 
 A bullet hopped on the surface of the water between Turpin and his com- 
 rade. 
 
 "Ha! ha!"' laughed Turpin, turning in his saddle ; "good evening, gen- 
 tlemen ; I wish you a pleasant ride back, unless you've a mind for a bath." 
 
 At this moment the under-sheriff rode up. " They'll be drowned,'' said he. 
 as he watched with the interest of a sportsman the leeway they were necessarily 
 making from the force of the stream. 
 
 " No !'' replied another ; " they'll reach Cross Ness, or I'm mistaken." 
 
 " Well, whether they do or not," said the official personage, " I should be 
 loth to follow them on such an adventure : besides, our county's clear of them, 
 and if the sheriff of Kent pleases to hunt them back, let him do so ; maybe he 
 and his merry men fancy swimming the Thames ; it's more than I do. See ! 
 see ! there's one off his horse." 
 
 The gentleman reckoned without his host ; for Turpin, at this moment, 
 with that consideration for his beast which the true horseman ever displays, 
 slipped from his saddle, and placing one hand on the pommel to prevent him- 
 self and steed parting company, relieved her of her burden by sinking into 
 the stream as high as his armpits. Fielder followed his example. 
 
 " They're both off," said another of the company: " damme, but they must 
 be mad to try such a swim, unless born to be hanged, which we all know is a 
 safeguard against drowning." 
 
 " There's more judgment about em," said a veteran sportsman who had now 
 joined them : " leave them alone for knowing what they're about. When I 
 served under Marlborough, in the campaign of Prince Eugene — I was then 
 attached to the first squadron of Royal Dragoons — I remember we passed the 
 Maes — that uas swimming, my lads ; we were all heavy men, and heavily 
 accoutred, and more than one gallant horse — " 
 
DICK TURPIN, 61 
 
 " To the devil with your stories of Prince Eugene !" uncourteously inter- 
 rupted another, who was eagerly watching the proceedings of our adventurers; 
 " I think you've one of them to fit everything that turns up. That black one's 
 a noble animal ; see how he heads his companion. One of them will go to 
 Davy Jones, and rob the hangman of his fee. The light-coloured horse will 
 never make the point." 
 
 While this conversation was held, our hero and Fielder were breasting the 
 rushing wave ; 
 
 " With lusty sinews throwing It aside, 
 
 And stemming it with hearts of controversy." 
 
 Gallantly did they hold their way : Bess was the first to feel terra firma, 
 and Dick, gaining his feet almost at the same instant, led her dripping from 
 the stream, her black coat glancing like satin in the silver light. He turned 
 to look for Fielder. The downward tide beat strong on the point he had 
 gained ; then, thrown off by the projecting tongue of land, rushed in a slanting 
 direction towards the opposite bank, forming, by the oblique direction of the 
 channel, a wide and dangerous reach. Turpin saw the imminent danger of 
 his comrade ; should he fail in gaining land at that point, his situation was 
 hopeless : the power of the rushing water must carry him to swift destruction. 
 He hesitated not — his was not the mind to hesitate ; leaving Bess, he re- 
 turned as hastily as the water would allow him, and was about to throw himself 
 in. Fielder was within three or four yards of the shore. 
 
 " Hold hard !" cried George ; " I'm all right yet ; Witch 'ull do it." 
 
 He was wrong. Turpin saw them within his very grasp, as he supposed, 
 when at that instant man and horse touched ground. The animal staggered ; 
 its slight foothold, insufficient to enable it to oppose the current which bore 
 against its side, alarmed it; with a furious snort it tossed its head in the air, 
 then buried it to the eyes in the waves. Turpin saw the fatal moment ; he 
 rushed towards Fielder, and seizing him, dragged him into the shoal water. 
 They stood together ; the unfortunate brute, from which its master was so 
 opportunely disentangled, unnerved by terror, again thrust its head beneath 
 the tide, rolled over, and the next moment was seen clear of the point of 
 safety, struggling in the rapid whirl of the eddy, which bore him from the shore. 
 Again and again did it plunge ; again and again did it blow the water it 
 unwillingly swallowed from its dilated nostrils. With one wild plunge, and 
 one shrill cry of agony, the poor brute sunk — and ended its death-struggle 
 beneath the rolling waters. 
 
 " There goes old Witch !" said Fielder, with a bitter laugh of vexation : 
 " that's a bad job, Dick — but I ought to think first of you ; you've saved my 
 life, friend," and he grasped the hand of Turpin cordially ; " how to repay you 
 I know not." 
 
 " Tut, tut, man," replied Turpin ; " he must be a faint-hearted man who'd 
 see a fellow-creature drown like a blind pup, and not save him, even if he were 
 not a friend." 
 
 They walked to the bed of reeds where Bess patiently awaited them. 
 
 "Well," said our hero, "I don't think our friends on the other side will 
 molest us much farther: however, do you mount the mare, and I'll make my 
 way by Plumstead marshes ; I know this country pretty well." 
 
 "From this day forth," said Fielder warmly, "Black Bess shall ne'er be 
 crossed by me. Who so worthy to own her as the man who has saved her 
 master's life ? No ! I know where the means to get another piad are to be 
 
62 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 had for the seeking ; so not another word, I insist upon it, my worthy. She's 
 yours ; and long may she live to save and serve you." Seeing that Dick was 
 about to decline, he added, " By G — , Dick, we have not yet quarrelled, but 
 we shall now ; good bye ;" and he cut short further parley by hastening away, 
 leaving Turpin standing by the horse so generously presented to hiin : and 
 thus did our hero acquire a servant destined to achieve an immortality both 
 for herself and master. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I do remember an apothecary, 
 And hereabouts he dwells. 
 
 As I remember this should be the house : 
 
 What ho 1 Apothecary I — Shakspere. 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs or' women, 
 " Which, taken at the flood, leads" God knows where : 
 
 Those navigators must be able seamen 
 Whose charts lay down its currents to a hair — 
 
 Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen, 
 With its strange whirls and eddies can compare :- 
 
 Man with his head reflects on this and that, 
 
 But women with her heart, or— heaven knows what ! —Byron 
 
 Days, weeks, and months rolled on ; and but few nights passed that Turpin 
 and his fidus Achates, Fielder, did not take the road with various success. 
 Returning one night from an expedition which had led them as far as Dartford, 
 they led their horses through the wood, and stabled them, as usual, in the 
 place described in the preceding chapter. They found Redhead couched on a 
 bundle of fern in the shed. The lad rose on their entrance. 
 
 " An ugly job to-night, muster George,'' said he ; " there's a dead'un, I fear, 
 at the cottage. Ned Wheeler and Bob be gone to fetch the doctor ; but I 
 thinks there's small chance for 'un. He's got as pretty a charge o' buckshot 
 in's carcase as 'ud spile any man's appetite, as wasn't a glutton all out." 
 
 " Who is it V asked Fielder. 
 
 " Why, that's more nor I can tell'ee ; he and some on 'em ha' been out 
 cracking a crib, and I'm guessing they ha' gi'en 'un his gruel. You'll find 
 'em down yonder, though." 
 
 Turpin and Fielder hastened to the hut, and found, on entering, the wounded 
 man, supported in the arms of two of his confederates. The blood was still 
 flowing from an imperfectly staunched wound in his breast, and the crimson 
 fluid had saturated his clothing. The ghastly deathlike hue, closed eyes, and 
 sunken features, next attracted his attention ; and what was his surprise, on 
 a nearer examination, to recognise the features of Black Dennis ! It appeared 
 from the story of the man who had brought him off, that they, in company 
 with five others, had planned a burglary at the house of a wealthy farmer in 
 the neighbourhood of Erith ; that their plans had not been so well laid but 
 that some suspicion had been excited among the inmates of the dwelling they 
 had fixed on ; and that, consequently, preparations had been made to give 
 them a warm reception. Dennis, as best acquainted with the premises, had 
 undertaken to effect an entrance ; but, at the very moment when their party 
 was assembled at a back-door in consultation, they were saluted with the 
 
DICK TURPIN. 6?, 
 
 discharge of a blunderbuss among them, from a casement in the upper part of 
 the house; Dennis was the unfortunate recipient of its charge. 
 
 Fielder was already possessed of the story of our hero ; yet, though he knew 
 Dennis well, he was so little acquainted with his history, that it never occurred 
 to him that he was the old enemy of Turpin. Dick too, forgot, in pity for the 
 man who now lay stretched in apparent death before him, his abhorrence for 
 the scoundrel, and assisted, as far as lay in his power, in succouring him. 
 Meantime, the two mounted men pursued their search for a leech. 
 
 In the retired and pretty little village of Eltham, — long the residence of 
 royalty, and still possessing in its ancient palace, now converted into a barn, 
 one of the most beautiful specimens of the elaborate internal decoration of 
 our ancestors in its beautifully-fretted roof, and of sylvan beauty in the re- 
 mains of its dismantled pleasaunce — resided a son of Esculapius, hight Jalap. 
 No man could better — 
 
 Mix a draught, or bleed, or blister ; 
 
 Or draw a tooth out of your head ; 
 
 Or chatter scandal by your bed; 
 Or give a glyster. 
 Of occupations these were quantum suff., 
 Yet still he thought the list not long enough ; 
 
 And therefore midwifery he chose to pin to it : 
 This balanced things: for if he hurled 
 A few score mortals from the world, 
 
 He made amends by bringing others into it. 
 
 The humble dwelling of Jalap, before which was a small garden with low 
 green palings, was situated in the village street. By day it exhibited in its 
 ambiguous window, which was a cross-bred commingling of the shop and dwell- 
 ing house in its outward show — some half-dozen of plethoric bulbous bottles 
 filled with coloured water, and displaying on their protuberant sides antique 
 symbols of astrologic quackery. The mysterious triangle, the influential 
 crescent, tailed and untailed planetary signs, impressed many a gapino- rustic 
 with an awe and respect for their potent contents, which would have been 
 wonderfully abated had intelligible English inscriptions informed them what 
 trash they really held. The interior of his repository was in keeping with its 
 outside. A. few tin-covered gallipots filled with the simplest vegetable unguents 
 bore the crabbed inscriptions of the old and exploded pharmaceutical nomen- 
 clature ; and here and there a glass jar, filled with spirit, displayed some mon- 
 strous freak of nature in the shape of a juvenile pig with six legs, or an 
 embryo lamb with none. These, with some poppy heads, 
 
 And a beggarly account of empty boxes, 
 With roseleaves scattered to make up a show, 
 
 completed the stock in trade of Mr. Jalap, unless we take into account the 
 learned stores of his cranium. 
 
 The scanty practice of the thinly-peopled hamlet and its vicinity, barely 
 sufficed to enable the worthy 'doctor,' as he was dubbed by the old women of 
 the neighbourhood, to keep life and soul in himself and family; — fur the 
 doctor was a practical anti-Malthusian, and had done the state some service 
 by his philoprogenitiveness. A dozen of olive-branches flourished around the 
 table of Jalap, and though in patriarchial times this plurality of offspring made 
 a man '-fear not to speak with his enemy within the gate," in these degene- 
 rate days the effect was quite different ; for the insufficiency of Mr. Jalap's income 
 made him exceeding chary of admitting foes or friends within his outer door, 
 from fear of the intrusion of John Doe and Richard Roe. He had been several 
 
64 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 time* "not at home" to suspicious applicants, who hesitated to declare their 
 business to his half-starved, half-liveried shop-boy, and on this very evening, 
 had retired to his couch, in perplexity and doubtful dilemma, as to the possi- 
 bility of obtaining the wherewithal to settle a long-standing butcher's bill, 
 for which legal proceedings were threatened. His dreams presented to his trou- 
 bled fancy long columns of figures arranged between red-ruled lines of sheets of 
 ■■.. blue foolscap, each headed with the ominous " brought forward ; " and his fancy 
 was busily engaged in turning over the innumerable folios of some unpaid bill 
 for bread or beef, when his dreams were scared by a lusty knocking at his 
 outer door. He started on his nether end, and desired his prolific partner to 
 reconnorite who 
 
 With heavy flat apon his gate, 
 
 Did knock so loud and knock so late, 
 
 while he listened attentively to the reply to her inquiry of " Who's there ? " 
 
 " Doctor Jalap's wanted at the squire's directly ; he's at the p'int o' death ; 
 so tell him to look alive — we're to bring him with us," said a rough voice. 
 
 "Gracious dearee me V exclaimed Mrs. Jalap ; "who'd ha' thought it? 
 Make haste, my dear, and speak to the gentlemen outside. We're made people 
 by this job — he'd always his doctor's stuff from London, I thought." 
 
 '* Hold your prate, woman I " replied the doctor, who was gingerly getting 
 into his well-worn and as well-mended nether garment. " Skill is sure to be 
 appreciated — merit must rise, eventually. Now there's Bolus, the physician, 
 who attends — " 
 
 " Holloa ; master doctor," exclaimed one of the fellows, " bear a hand, 
 will you ? " 
 
 Jalap rushed to the window. "I'm coming, gentlemen; coming directly;" 
 and in another minute, Mrs. J. having unfastened the door in the meantime, 
 the leech issued from his dwelling. 
 
 One of the men dismounted for the purpose of helping him into his seat. 
 " Now sir," said he, " with your leavei I'll manage to make the nag carry both 
 on us." 
 
 Jalap did not exactly like this mode of travelling, but anxiety to oblige the 
 squire prevented his making any objection. They rode for a minute or two 
 in the direction of Foot's Cray, then, suddenly wheeling to the left, took their 
 way by a green lane towards the eastern base of Shooter's Hill. "Holloa!" 
 exclaimed the doctor, on noticing this proceeding, " where are you going to ? 
 This is not the road to Sidcup ; you should keep to the right." 
 
 " It's right enow for us," replied Ned Wheeler ; " mind your own business, 
 and we'll mind our'n. Pr'aps it wouldn't be inconvenient if you didn't see 
 any thing to frighten you, for you seem rather timersome. Lend us your fogle, 
 Bob, and I'll darken his peepers." 
 
 Wheeler was right, for the doctor trembled violently. " Don't be afeared," 
 said his nurse, as he felt Jalap shake in the saddle, "there's no harm acoming 
 to you, if you sit quiet." They bound his eyes ; — this added to his terror. 
 
 " For the love of heaven, gentlemen," expostulated Jalap, " don't murder 
 me. Consider my large family of helpless children ; I never did you any 
 harm, and I'm too poor to be worth robbing — only take me home and I'll — " 
 
 "Be quiet, and be d — d to you,'' said Wheeler. Jalap became aware 
 by the motion of the horse that they were leaving the road, and ascending a 
 bank; the bough of a tree caught his head, and stripped it of both hat and 
 wig. " Mercy, mercy ! " ejaculated the blinded doctor. " Be still, or I'll 
 
met TURPI N. 
 
 n5 
 
 lurpin ana Madge Dutlon ifit.rruptsd by Dennis. 
 
 knock you on the head," said his traveller g companion ; " Hob, put on old 
 Rhubarb's wig." It was replaced as they moved on. "Have you got him? *' 
 asked a voice, in a loud whisper, as they turned again into a gravelly road. 
 " Yes, ' we ha' got him," was the reply. The most horrid deaths floated 
 throu£h his distracted brain. What could this mean if it was not murder? 
 and hope deserted him. Again a voice enquiied, "Got him?" and -again 
 did the horseman reply in the affirmative. Jalap's heart sunk within him. 
 "Got him," they had indeed! The thoughts of his anxious wife, and the glee 
 with which he had obeyed this fatal summons, rendered the anguish of hia 
 mind doubly poignant. Each attempt at deprecating their murderous design 
 was, however, stifled by their blasphemous denunciations of vengeance, should 
 he make the slightest noise. At length they stopped, and having lifted him 
 from the horse, led him stumbling over some dreadfully uneven ground. A 
 door was gently rapped at, and he found himself in an apartment; thus much, 
 he could tell, though the tight bandage prevented his discerning surrounding 
 objects. Now then, thought he, the moment of immolation has arrived ; he 
 fell upon his knees; the kerchief was plucked from his head ; he gazed 
 wildly round. In the small chamber were fi/e or six men. "I'll never 
 No 9. 
 
66 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 divulge anything I've seen, gentlemen, if — " Mr. Jalap was fated that night 
 not to be allowed to finish a single sentence. 
 
 "Man alive, don't be such a fool — you needn't be so cursedly frightened," 
 said Fielder, laughing good-hutnouredly at the pitiable figure of the kneeling 
 doctor. " There's nobody here will do you any hurt, if you'll be reasonable, 
 - — we want your assistance, man ; so look sharp, and call your senses about you." 
 Poor Jalap, with open mouth, looked enquiringly at Fielder. The dashing 
 garb of the highwayman made him think he had at any rate met a gentleman, 
 from whom he might hope protection. At the conclusion of his short speech, 
 Fielder drew aside the curtain which divided a small truckle-bed from the rest 
 of the apartment, and exposed the wounded man to his view. The doctor rose 
 from his knees, and gazed stedfastly on the emaciated countenance and blood- 
 stained clothes of Dennis, who lay in a ghastly swoon before him. Such a 
 sight might shake most men's nerves — it had an entirely opposite effect on 
 Jalap's. The truth dawned upon him — he was not a doomed man — no ; his 
 skill was only required, not his life. He was safe, his deliverance was too 
 astounding to be true ; he wept tears of joy, shook hands in his confusion 
 with two or three of the housebreakers, blew his nose tremulously, wiped 
 his eyes, tumbled over a chair, rubbed his hands, and then, with the air of 
 a man who has neglected some urgent business, drew from his coat-pocket a 
 small box, his surgical vade-mecum, containing lint, probes, lancets, and the 
 ordinary appliances of his vocation. 
 
 "I see, I see,*' said he, nervously; " I see, I see! Bless me ! Can you 
 procure me a little warm water? I ought to have a sponge somewhere ; con- 
 found it; ah, here it is ! Be so goodras to hold me a basin ; it's fortunate 
 you sent forme, gentlemen. I flatter myself you might have gone further 
 and fared worse. I've had some experience, gentlemen, in these sort of 
 cases. ( It was the first gun-shot wound he had ever beheld. ) I studied, gen- 
 tlemen, under the great Dr. Mead. I attended all his demonstrations and 
 lectures Ah! syncope; it might be expected from the loss of blood ; hold 
 this. Very unskilfully dressed — you'll excuse me — how happened it? I don't 
 wish to be inquisitive, but — oh, ay, slugs and a blunderbuss, you say? Don't 
 think at present, as far as an opinion can be formed, anything more than a 
 severe flesh wound; laceration ol the pectoral muscles; dear me; man'* shoulder 
 wounded before; dreadfuJ cicatrix; hum, ha! present wound notdangerous though.'' 
 
 Jalap was really a man of much skill in the art of surgery as then practised, 
 possessing considerable judgment, though sadly deficient in nerve. The wound 
 was dressed, and the doctor suggested the propriety of his being allowed to go 
 home for the purpose of procuring a draught for the patient. This produced 
 some consultation among the party ; Mr. Jalap's hilarity sunk to zero when 
 Fielder interposed and said, "lam sorry, my good sir, to place you under any 
 unpleasant restraint, but it would not be exactly the thing for you to be seen 
 going and coming hereabouts ; and if you're a reasonable man you'll agree 
 with us. Therefore, perhaps you'll oblige us — here is pen and ink — by writ- 
 ing a note to your wife; one of our men shall take it — it will calm her 
 uneasiness, and procure the necessary medicines." 
 
 The doctor, with the foolish reliance for which desperate men are proverbial, 
 mistook the mildness of Fielder for indecision. He rejoiced in his heart he 
 had found what he thought a gentleman, among the rough crew by which ha 
 was surrounded. He prepared himself for an oration, but his unlucky star 
 was still in the ascendant, and he had scarcely got through the exordium of 
 
W DICK 1URPIN. 67 
 
 wliat he intended to be a very polite address, when his old persecutor, Wheeler 
 who had brought the writing materials, broke in with — 
 
 " We've made up our minds, so it's no use argufying : you've bronght youi 
 gammon to the wrong shop. Hold your gaf, and guv us the bit of scratch, 
 and I'll make it all right with the old woman. I've got a way o' dealing 
 with the women as 'ull settle their little tirrits and frights." 
 
 This speech was like a stream of cold water pouring down the doctor's back. 
 He gave a nervous start at the very tone of his voice, and turned to look at 
 the speaker. There was nothing in the forbidding features and marked lines 
 of the desperado's countenance to reassure him, or to recommend him as an 
 ambassador to the ladies. Wheeler saw his fear. 
 
 "Come," said he, handing him the pen, " scribble away, old rat's-bane, 
 and none of your fluffery ; there's them here as can make out your pen-work, 
 if so be I can't, so no tricks ; shove along my hearty ; I'll be the cove as 'till 
 take it." 
 
 Mr. Jalap saw it would be useless to resist ; so, with a deep sigh, he sat 
 own and penned an epistle to his wife, at the dictation of Fielder, to the 
 ffect that the squire's illness was of that alarming nature as to render it im- 
 possible for him to leave the Hall; and concluding with a P.S. to his assistant 
 (who was his shop-boy and messenger) to deliver, per bearer, the necessary 
 drugs. This done, Wheeler departed. 
 
 It was now day. The fields and hedge-rows glittered with dew-drops, and 
 *l.t birds twittered from every thorn; the curling mists rolled lazily down the 
 sides of the hills, to dwell awhile in the vales, till the ascending sun should 
 draw them towards his mighty source of life and light. Here and 
 there the dappled cow rose from her damp bed ; the sheep nibbled their 
 early repast as they strolled slowly; and the tinkling bell of the ancient 
 wether struck musically on the ear. The bright daisy lifted its golden eye ; 
 the hare-bell shook its fairy plume in the breeze; and the bean-field loaded 
 the light air with fragrance. The hare aroused from its form, bounded lightly 
 across the pathway, and all nature sprung joyously to salute the day. 
 
 All this was passed unheeded by Wheeler. The guilty, the sensual, and the 
 debased, are incapable of duly feeling the beauties of nature ; it is only the 
 pure in mind who can appreciate the wonders and the beauties that the hand 
 of a beneficent Creator has spread with lavish profusion around us — it is only 
 to those who can look " through nature up to nature's God," that this highest 
 of man's enjoyments is vouchsafed. Wheeler was none of these ; he plodded 
 unadmiring and unseeing through the lovely scenes around him, contriving the 
 best means of most completely blinding the worthy Mrs. Jalap, as to the real 
 situation of her spouse. He succeeded ; and having obtained the necessary 
 medicaments, returned. 
 
 That day and the following elapsed, and towards nightfall, Mr. Jalap, 
 having pronounced the patient out of danger, and given the necessary instruc- 
 tions for his future treatment, after being again blindfolded, was conveyed 
 homewards, much in the same fashion as he had been brought to the hut ; 
 except that on this occasion, after the same sort of roundaboutations, and 
 riding him through one or two shallow streams, they took the bandage 
 from the doctor's eyes, in a bridle lane, some mile or two from his home. 
 On this occasion Turpi n and Fielder accompanied him; and the latter, having 
 presented the doctor with ten guineas, to his great surprise and satisfaction, 
 bid him good speed, and left him pouring forth a profusion of protestations of 
 secrecy and gratitude. The worthy Esculapius hardly knew how to contain 
 
68 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 his joy, not only at the unexpected gratuity, but at his miraculous escape 
 from assassination, for such he deemed it. He doubted not that he had 
 travelled many miles, so greatly had his journey been protracted by the dread- 
 ful suspense and agony in which the time had passed. But we must pause 
 awhile to notice how affairs had gone on in the interval with the good 
 doctor's family. 
 
 On receiving the epistle from the broom-maker's hut, in which Jalap had 
 certified his loving spouse of the alarming state of the squire's health, the 
 dame lost no time in exhibiting the document to sundry of her acquaintances, 
 vho, on their parts, were equally diligent in spreading the news. The poor 
 squire was two or three times killed outright in the ensuing twenty- four hours; 
 and the chances of his recovery had been learnedly canvassed at the corners of the 
 several streets, and in the village alehouse ; when a labourer who returned in 
 the evening from his work at the squire's, astonished his dame by declaring it 
 to be " top and bottom, a dom'd lie,'' as he had just left the mu«,si commiserated 
 individual in question "as well as ever a'd seed him this mony a year." The 
 good woman and he called at Jalap's, and the surprise and anxiety of the 
 doctor's rib and family was extreme. Gallipot, his assistant before-mentioned, 
 was despatched to Sidcup, and had not long returned to the expectant circle 
 when Jalap himself came in. 
 
 After the first embrace was over, Mrs. Jalap insisted on knowing wneie he 
 ad really been ; but the doctor, to the great disappointment .if the party 
 assembled, politely requested them to retire. Spreading the* gold on the table 
 — he forgot his former fears and protestations, and soon informed the inquisi- 
 tive dame of the nature of the service he had been performing ; and *he village, 
 the next day, knew — though it was communicated as a piofound secret by 
 each narrator — that Dr. Jalap had been carried a great many miles to see a 
 great lord, who had been desperately wounded in a duel. 
 
 Woman is an unsolved, nay, an unsolvable problem. Mad.ge Dutton, the 
 paramour of Dennis, had once been the finest girl in the village of Sibbertoft, 
 in Northamptonshire. Of poor and industrious parents, who had paid little or no 
 attention to her moral or mental training, she grew to eighteen, the pride of 
 the village green : few girls in Sibbertoft could dance like Margaret Di.tton : 
 and many a hard-handed, hard-working rustic sought her in marriage. Tl-ougn 
 her passions were strong, her coquetry and love of admiration, were sufficient, 
 in her earlier days, to keep her humble suitors at bay. The flattery, atten ■■ 
 tions, and presents, of the good-looking son of a neighbouring farmer, however, 
 effected that which the honourable proposals of suitors who w <re her equals 
 in station had failed. The desire of outshining her companions and her love 
 of dress, made her an easy prey to her comparatively wealthy =*ducer ; and 
 before she had completed her nineteenth year she deserted the roof of her 
 parents, and accepted the protection of young Johnson, who, U avoid the 
 scandal of their rural acquaintance, provided her with lodgings in the neigh- 
 bouring town of Lutterworth. Her seducer, however, had miscalculated the 
 character of Madge — she had no taste for domestic privacy ; and but a f*w 
 weeks passed before his jealousy — for he loved her, if a sensual passion 1 ^e 
 his could be so termed — was excited by rumours of her continual gaddings 
 about, and company-keeping during his absence. Her gay clothes and attract- 
 ive fio-ure drew the attention of some of the young officers of a squadron of 
 dragoons quartered in the town ; and her rural admirer, whom the fear of his 
 family had prevented from uniting himself in wedlock with her, was greeted 
 with file intelligence, that Mistress Madge had elope.', with a cornet of th 
 
DICK TURPIN. 69 
 
 regiment, and had betaken herself, with her n6w protector, to the metropolis. 
 Here her history was the old one — neglected by her paramour, she received 
 the visits of "promiscuous" friends; and passing through the various 
 gradations of the unfortunate or vicious, at length became the mistress of one 
 or two of the most noted cracksmen of the day, who successively, driven from 
 the land, or forfeiting their lives on the gallows, left Madge to the tender 
 kindnesses of mankind in general, whose perfidy or inconstancy she retaliated 
 in full. Such was the present Mrs. Sowton, as she styled herself. For 
 Dennis she felt that sort of affection which arises among such beings, more 
 from a feeling of his being necessary to her as a bully (protector she would 
 have called it) and the pride of sustaining a character, which, even in her 
 degraded position, she would not forfeit, that of behaving " like a trump to a 
 chap as had stuck to her wh\ e he had the tin " This led her, upon hearing 
 from a companion of the accident which had befallen " her fancy man," to 
 declare her intention of going down to attend him — for woman, even in, her 
 utmost degradation, feels the kindly promptings of our nature — and this deter- 
 mination she forthwith acted on. The third night of his confinement witnessed 
 the arrival of Madge Dutton at the cottage. This addition to the party much 
 displeased both Rose and Fielder. 
 
 "I'm d — d but this place will become a regular resort for these blackguards 
 anr 1 . their women; what in the name of mischief could have induced Gregory 
 to send her here? Mark me, Fielder," ( it .was Rose who spoke ) "I'm no 
 prophet if this don't lead to worse than you reckon on. 1 never knew a wo- 
 man in a secret, that, sooner or later, harm didn't come of it.'' 
 
 Days rolled on, and Dennis became gradually convalescent. Meantime a 
 change had been silently working in the feelings of Madge : the attractive 
 person and pleasing manners of Turpin had raised a flame in her ill-regulated 
 breast ; and with her, once to form a design was to see no obstacle to its gra- 
 tification. She still possessed no inconsiderable share of charms ; and these 
 si3A\on all occasions displayed, when in our hero's presence, to the best ad- 
 vartage. She was piqued at what she conceived his indifference, and after 
 one or two hints of her surprise that so likely-looking a young fellow as 
 himself was still without that indispensable to men in his profession, a mis- 
 tress ; and some more than hiats how little difficulty he would experience 
 should he lay siege to any woman's heart ; mingled with much artful flattery, 
 and some lamentations as to her ill-assorted alliance with Dennis, all which 
 Dick purposely pretended not clearly to comprehend ; she ventured on more 
 /pen proposals. Luckily for Dick's virtue — we grieve to say it, but truth 
 must out — at the very moment when his resolution was wavering, for he was 
 no stoic, Dennis entered the room. It was the first time he had quitted his 
 bed. The flushed cheek of Madge, the equivocal position in which she then 
 stood by the side of Turpin, one hand tightly grasping his shoulder, and the 
 evident confusion of the latter, at once told him how matters stood ; and his 
 jealous and suspicious soul told him even more than had yet taken place. He 
 was, however, tactician enough to dissemble his anger, and in reply to Turpin's 
 somewhat confused enquiry of how he felt himself, he replied, — 
 
 " Pretty much the same, thank ye, for that part on it. Why Madge, have 
 you been taking a drop o' anything short ? You looks as red aboutthe gills 
 this morning as if you'd bin taking some rough exercise?" He said this in 
 a half sneer, which increased Turpin's confusion. Madge, however, indignantly 
 cut him short 
 
70 DICK TURFIN. 
 
 " Why, what are you driving at, you jealous brute, you," retorted sshe ; **, the 
 
 gentleman — and his little finger's more of the gentleman in it than the whole 
 
 of your blackguard carcass — was telling me — you scape-gallows wretch, I 
 
 wonder I'd ever anything to say to — " 
 
 Dennis stepped towards the woman, and, raising his unwounded arm, was 
 about to strike her. Dick interposed. A quarrel was what Madge desired to 
 bring about ; she therefore continued her vituperation. Dennis, however, saw 
 her design. 
 
 " Ay, ay !" muttered b« — " 'twon't fit ; I see through it though, marm 
 Dick, here's my hand ; I'll never quarrel with a friend for such carrion as 
 that : take her, if she's any catch ; and I wish you luck of her." 
 
 So saying Dennis quitted the room, and throwing himself on the bed, the 
 head of which was close to the slight partition, listened, notwithstanding his 
 previous declaration of indifference, to what passed between the couple he had 
 left. Madge proposed, but in a whisper inaudible to Dennis, that Turpia 
 and she should immediately leave the cottage for London ; and endeavours, 
 to enforce her proposition with all the blandishments she possessed ; but the 
 charm of her influence was broken : the form of Esther, glowing in all tht-. 
 charms of virgin innocence, rose upon his imagination — the spell was irrisis 
 tible — he shook off" the impatient and irritated Madge, and strode hastily from 
 the cottage. A few steps on the gorse-clad common, and a few minutes" spent 
 in reflection on the scene in which he had just been an actor, produced a 
 feeling of self-approbation ; and in a reverie on his first love, he soon lost jdl 
 remembrance of the charms of the polluted syren he had quitted. 
 How different were the feeling's of Madge ! 
 
 Her first resource was tears — tsars of bitterness and vexation ; then rage, 
 choking and uncontrollable rage, tore her breast ; and next, revenge, deep, 
 deadly, implacable revenge. 
 
 "Revenge Is sweet,' especially to woman," 
 
 says Byron most truly. She struck her forehead angrily with her clenched 
 hand as she inwardly muttered, 
 
 "Have I then let myself down? have I then bemeaned myself to ask a silly 
 green boy to accept me ? have I sued a — " Passion choked her utterance. 
 " But I'll be revenged : if Madge Dutton can't have him, no other shalj , I'll 
 tighten the cord that shall strangle him with these hands first!" She held 
 forth her clenched fists as she thought, rather than said this. 
 
 "Hell has no Fury like a woman seorned ;" 
 
 and Madge might at. that moment have sat as n. study for a Pythoness. 
 
 The first -paroxysm ever, reflection came to her aid ; she saw that it wa.. 
 indispensable, to effect her revenge, that dissimulation must be had recourse 
 to. She rose from the seat into which she had thrown herself, and clearing 
 her brow, arranged her somewhat disordered headgear; then practising a smile 
 in the glass, stept into the adjoining chamber. The wily Dennis counterfeited 
 sleep. Madge regarded him attentively though abstractedly ; sb* saw him 
 not, though he lay before her; the late shock had unnerved her; and sh~ 
 felt, for a few moments, the tenderness which is woman's heritage — as abe 
 thought of all she was, and what she might have been. She thought of het 
 parents; of her first wooing ; of her first love; he whcm she had slighted, 
 disdained, deserted; and who, as far as she had been able to learn, vow Eg 
 
DICK TURF1N. 71 
 
 still living, braved the perils of a soldier's life in a distant clime. She thought 
 of this, and more, as she stood beside the couch of Dennis ; and none of those 
 who fancied they knew her best would have believed it — the eyes of the 
 hardened, the desperate, the outcast Madge Dutton were filled with tears ! 
 She thought of the wretch she had become ; of her parents, and their humble 
 rooftree ; of her sisters, and of her brothers, whom she had disgraced — and she 
 thought of this, until, had there been one by to counsel her for good, to confirm 
 her in the virtuous resolutions at that moment floating indistinctly, and rudely 
 formed through her brain — who can say that even she might not have been drawn 
 back into the ways of pleasantness and the paths of peace ? But none such 
 was there. Her feelings were ever predominant over her reason, and memory 
 brought back the circumstances of her present position. Dennis lay in his 
 feigned slumber ; she touched him gently ; he started, and looked at her with the 
 half intelligent stare of a newly-awakened man, and then sulkily turned his face to 
 wardsthewall. Madge seated herself, and by the aid of a few dissembling tears 
 and an artful statement, half persuaded the suspicious Dennis, that the confusion in 
 which he found her was occasioned by an improper proposal on the part of Turpin , 
 which she, desirous of preventing a renewal of theil former deadly feud, had 
 made up her mind to conceal from him : that it was by no means the first 
 occurrence of the kind ; and that her feigned anger at his entrance was caused 
 by a wish to prevent a contest in his then weak state, but that it was changed 
 to real, when she found how injuriously even he suspected her. 
 
 Man was ordained to be the dupe of woman, since our first grandam, Eve, 
 lost this "great globe and all that it inherit," for a pippin. This improba- 
 ble story, garnished with a few well-timed sobs and tears, and occasionally a 
 sort of timid approach to a caress, blinded the other eye of even the cunning 
 Dennis ; and he also, though not without some misgivings as to the good 
 faith of Madge, felt all the embers of his nearly-expiring hatred fanned into 
 flame. 
 
 A few weeks, tnd the precious pair left the cottage, Dennis still feeble, 
 for their haunts in London. Madge, before her departure, carefully noted 
 each entrance and outlet of the spot — she had not given Dennis even the re- 
 motest idea of her revengeful feelings towards Dick. She grew, to the 
 great satisfaction of her paramour, who looked upon it as a proof of her affec- 
 tion, high in spirits, talkative, good-humoured, and, as Dennis thought, hand- 
 somer than ever, as his convalescence advanced. She continually dwelt on 
 the pleasure she should feel when he was once more " about," and they set 
 out for the metropolis in apparently better humour with each other than 
 usual. 
 
 "Dennis," said Madge, gaily, "you're preciously out of feather, would you 
 mind to 'snitch for the forty, 1 * providing you wasn't obligated to split on a 
 friend » " 
 
 " I don't know what you're at, just now," replied Dennis ; "I'd do a good 
 many things just now, to put us square ; though snitching is the last thing I'd 
 do — it's not to my fancy, Madge." 
 
 "Pooh ! pooh! I could put you fly to how you might have half on it, by 
 laying others on the scent, without ever joining in the cry ; there's others as 
 "nil hunt down the game, if you'll put 'em on the trail." 
 
 • Inform for the forty pounds — the blood-money then allowed by Government 
 for a capital conviction. 
 
72 DICK TUftPIN. 
 
 Dennis didn't half like the proposal ; he feared that the woman who could 
 act thus, "might betray more men ;" he looked at her keenly from his single 
 eye, as he said — 
 
 "You're pumping me sure-ly, Madge? you arn't in arnest in this business! 
 no ; if I wants to punish an enemy, though he was my worst, I'd not go about 
 it so sneaking a way as snitching." 
 
 This speech imposed on Madge, and extorted from her that " hypocrisy 
 which is the homage," says Johnson, " which vice pays to virtue " Not that 
 there was anything like virtue in either of the couple, yet Madge acknowleged 
 even the principle of good faith implied by this declaration, by laughing as 
 she said coaxingly, pinching his arm, 
 
 " You don't go to think, Denny, dear, as I'd tempt you t» peach on any 
 man, do you ? I was only just trying it on a little to see how far your jealousy 
 would make you go towards that conceited young monkey, with his side-locks, 
 at the hut there, as took such freedoms with me ; but I think I've taught him 
 to think twice afore he comes his impudence to any woman as has got a man 
 by her side ; that I have ; the ignorant, upstart, Johnny Raw ! I wonders at 
 \he face of boys, now-a days, I do." 
 
 Dennis was not improved in temper by this mention of Turpin ; however, 
 Madge saw the danger, unless he would come over to her views, of entrusting 
 him with the secret of her plan ; she therefore resolved not to make him a 
 participator in its execution. 
 
 On the second day after this conversation, as a November wind howled 
 mournfully over the bleak waste of Woolwich Common, a party of men were 
 assembled near a clump of plantation which skifrted it on the side towards 
 the Barrack Fields, which abuts on the lane leading to Plnmstead Common ; 
 they consisted of four of the Bow-street patrol with their cutlasses 
 and pistols, reinforced by some dozen stout fellows — local constables, and 
 sheriffs men of Kent; with them also was a female, and she, the reader may 
 easily guess, was the treacherous Madge. 
 
 " It'll cost me my life, for certain," said she to the officer who had the di- 
 rection of the posse, " if I'm seen in any way in the business ; can't you all 
 go without me, now you know so well about it?" 
 
 " Certainly not, my pretty little tell-tale," said the officer, chucking her 
 rudely under the chin. Madge was too much used to the degradation, often 
 thoughtlessly inflicted, which men are guilty of towards unfortunates of her 
 profession. " Whv, my pretty damsel, you've told us so much, that you must 
 let us into a little more, afore I've any mind to say as you've arn*d the posh* 
 We shall want a little 'dentification business from yer ; eh ? You know most 
 on 'em personally, I'll warrant V and the trap and his companions laughed. 
 " As you're all here, I b'lieve, we'll start out of hand — now then, mistress 
 Madge — damme, but you're a handsome wench, though a little of the devil in 
 your eyes. Come, let's tramp it." 
 
 Thev set out : on reaching the corner of the common, the officer who had 
 direction of the party (who was no other than the noted Dick Bayes of 
 whom we shall by and bye see more) divided his men into four companies, iu 
 order to prevent escape. They sneaked cautiously through the heather; three 
 of those most to oe relied on took their way towards the cottage, while Bayes 
 with two more proceeded to the broom-maker's hut. The officer gave the sig- 
 ns^ and after a short pause, Ned Wheeler issued from amongst the heather, 
 
 * Money. 
 
DICK TURPI N 
 
 Tlw Bi'«u'k-\hj of the Pluraetead gang. 
 
 through the subterraneous way by which Turpin had first seen 1he man who 
 introduced him to the hut, and thence led him to the cottage. The man 
 came close to Bayes, whose two followers crouched near by. Bayes seized 
 him, and presented a pistol to his ear; the man said nothing, und Bayes qui- 
 etly handed him over to their care. He now made a preconcerted signal to 
 some others, and several men hurried to the cottage door. Bayts burst it 
 at a single thrust, and with a pistol in each hand, followed by his imrmidons, 
 entered the parlour. It was empty; and they stared around prettv consider- 
 ably chap-fallen. They proceeded to the other two rooms, but no trace of a 
 highwayman was to be seen, save a whip or two, and a pair of spurs. The 
 thief-taker stood a moment in doubt, — the noise as of a heavy weight falling 
 on a boarded floor was heard, and the shuffling of feet, and a confused whis- 
 pering. One of his followers pointed to a mark in the paint of a panel, 
 which looked like a secret door; it was the work of an instant to burst it, 
 and Bayes and his companions found themselves in the small room containing 
 the trap-door, by which, as the reader will remember, our hero first came hito 
 the cottage. The trap was open, and one man was descending, and two or 
 three stood in the apartment. They raised iheir pistols, but seeing the num- 
 ber of their enemies, as quickly lowered them. "Surrender, in the King's 
 name!" exclaimed Bayes, ''throw down your weapons, or I'll fire!" 
 
 " Oh, vou needn't make so much noise about it," said Fielder, " we se« 
 there's enough of vou. Perhaps you'll be so good as to tell us to what w» 
 No. 10 
 
 * 
 
74 DfCK TtfttlW. 
 
 are to attribute the honour of this vi>it, Mister Bayes? It's as unwelcome as 
 unlooked for, I can assure you. However, Bill," said he, turning to Rose, 
 "it's no use being flown on your luck — so Mister Bayes, if you've anything 
 to say to us, we wait your commands." 
 
 Fielder said this with an air of mock politeness, for he was one of those 
 humorists who view life as a practical jest ; to whom even misery and 
 misfortune assume a grotesque air, and who see something comical tbat 
 disposes them to joke, even with death. The poet Prior, who penned as an 
 inscription for his grave, — 
 
 "Life's a jest, and all things shsw it; 
 I thought so once, but now I know it." 
 
 would seem to have been of this temperament. The great and good Sii 
 Thomas More mounted the scaffold with a jest on his lips ; and who does not 
 remember the playful way in which the lovely Anne Boleyn, when at the block, 
 smiling on the headsman, grasped her delicate neck, with a pleasantry on it. 
 smallness, and the little trouble its severance would give to the bearer of the 
 shining implement of death. Numerous are the instances, among the wise 
 and the virtuous, of the preva'ence of this disposition ; though the mighty 
 moralist and lexicographer, Dr. Johnson, has told us, with his usual dogma- 
 tism — that Shakspere was ' unnatural '!' in depicting men shooting off quib- 
 bles and quirks, with the near prospect of death. Old Doctor Dread-devil, as 
 Cobbett quaintly nicknamed him, was marvellously out of his depth, when he 
 undertook to lecture Shakspere on human nature. He says, "Shakspere's 
 characters have a conceit left them, even in their misery — a miserable con 
 ceit." Prodigious! The 'conceit' existed nowhere but under the mighty 
 doctor's wig. — But where the devil are we wandering? We have already 
 once apologised for digression, and beg pardon again. To return : Fielder 
 rvas of the temperament we have above alluded to ; — mischance cou'd not 
 depress, nor misfortune sadden him. 
 
 We have before said that every officer of any standing in the then state of our 
 police, was intimate with the leading violators of the law. To his jocose 
 submission, Dick Bayes replied : — 
 
 ''You're a queer chap, George; you're a sort of Godsend though, for I 
 didn't reckon to find you — and, what's more, I wasn't seeking you ; however," 
 and he winked his eye knowingly ; unobserved by the rest, whom he at the 
 time turned his back on ; "you're our prisoner; and in order to make sure 
 of" you, we shall be obleeged to clap on the darbies.''* 
 
 Taking a pair of handcuffs from a bystander, he placed one on the right 
 wrist of Redhead, and beckoning a stout burly countryman from among (he 
 sheriff's men, he placed the other shackle on his left wrist — and, having 
 locked the &nap, not only secured the prisoner but the constable, who could 
 not let his charge go even had he been so inclined; Rose and another were 
 similarly served ; and the two men who had escaped by. the underground 
 passage, and who had been taken, getting over the fence of the broom-maker's 
 garden, being now brought in, they were similarly disposed of. 
 
 " Now, my man," said Bayes, turning to Fielder, " we'll jurvide for you, 
 as vou're a deep 'un, by gettin' yer into a conveyance of some sort; for I 
 supposes you won't like to tramp it to Maidstone, eh ? Got any ochre to pay 
 for the drag .'" 
 
 • Handcuffs. 
 
DICK TURPI N. 75 
 
 Fielder replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Well," said Bayes, " then suppose Tom Pearce goes wi' you ? I must put 
 you on the wristbands, though. What ! ain't you got no more pairs? Lord, 
 Lord — these joskins ! what a thing it is to have anythink to do wi' 'em !" 
 
 Mr. Bayes produced a piece of cord from his pocket. 
 
 " Dash it," said Fielder, "you might stand something genteeler than that." 
 
 Here he drew a handsome large-sized silk kerchief from his pocket. 
 
 " Oh, anything to accommodate a gentleman," said Bayes, laughing at 
 Fielder's particularity. "Now, Pearce, this is your prisoner; and see that you 
 deliver him safely into the custody of the governor of Maidstone gaol. Now 
 gentlemen," continued he, " we're ready to start. Are you sure every part 
 of both premises has been strictly searched V 
 
 The men who had done so assured him no corner had been left unran- 
 sacked ; and several articles of silver plate, a watch or two, and some miscel- 
 laneous property of value were produced. No money was, however, found — 
 for each highwayman usually carried his specie about him, or concealed it in 
 a spot known only to himself. Mr. Bayes, having scrutinisingly examined 
 each article, and carefully noticed their peculiarities, with an occasional shrug, 
 smile, or interjection, placed them all together in a carpet-bag, and the 
 prisoners left the cottage, under the escort of the constables, for Woolwich, 
 where Mr. Bayes had made arrangements for their safe custody for the night, 
 intil all should be readv for conveving them to the county gaol at Maid- 
 stone. 
 
 But the night's adventures wore not yet at an end; the order of march was 
 thus arranged. First went three of the sheriffs men, and then followed Rose 
 and his yokemate ; Redhead, Ned Wheeler, and another pair similarly man- 
 acled, and three or four more of the catchpoles ; while Pearce, Bayes, and 
 the Londoners brought up the procession. The foremost had reached the 
 end of the lane, when a loud cry arose from the rear ; three or four pistols 
 were fire 1 in rapid succession. 
 
 " Help !" roared Pearce, who lay extended on the ground with a discharged 
 pistol in his hand. 
 
 "Which way did he go?" cried Bayes. 
 
 "There he runs!" exclaimed another, firing his pistol in the direction he 
 pretended to see the fugitive. 
 
 " Hollo 1 what's the matter ?" burst from a dozen tongues. 
 
 Mr. Bayes, however, knew better than to satisfy these queries too early — 
 it might be mischievous. Not heeding their enquiries, he hastily buttoned 
 his coat, and striding rapidly a few steps from the beaten footpath towards 
 the point indicated by the man who had just fired, turned — and grasping 
 another pistol which he drew from his pocket, bid the men scatter themselves 
 to his right and left, and observe his motions. He thus occasioned still 
 further delay. 
 
 "You keep out Here oa the right. Why what the devil are you about? 
 I'll hold you responsible, master headborough, for the safe keeping of the 
 other prisoners. Norris and Pearce, see to the men you already have. Now, 
 my fine fellows, it won't do for either of you to come singlehanded on the 
 cove who's just tipt us the slip — so be cautious, and make sure of him when 
 you get him in sight. Forward, lads!" 
 
 Mr. Bayes set out with much bustle ; a.n r \ the heath, as well as the imperfect 
 light would permit, was beat, as may eahniy be supposed, with little succes», 
 
76 DICK TURPIN 
 
 until the party arrived at Old Park Wood. To impress the rustics with a 
 iue sense of the vigilance and activity of their leader, Mr. Bayes kept up an 
 incessant volley of directions, garnished with sundry oaths, which it would be 
 neither edifying or proper to record ; and moreover, on nearing one or two 
 'urze-bushes o f questionable outline, he displayed his valour by furiously 
 springing forward, and incontinently discharging a pistol thereat. The farce 
 concluded by Mr. Bayes, after some swearing by way of epilogue, leading his 
 men back across the country to Woolwich, whither the prisoners had by this 
 time arrived. 
 
 The result is soon told. Eaton and two of the gang, against whom 
 Wheeler was admitted as evidence, were executed on Peneaden Heath. 
 Wheeler, as the price of his infamy, received his discharge. Rose, against 
 whom no specific case could be established, was sentenced to a term of im- 
 prisonment as a confederate of the gang ; while Fielder, as the reader has 
 been told, through the connivance of Bayes, was left to pursue his lawless 
 career. 
 
 Our hero, by one of those lucky coincidences for which his life was famous, 
 was in London, at the George, in the Broadway, Westminster, with Rust, 
 Stevens, and others, whose names have figured in our criminal annals, with 
 whom his friend Fielder had made him acquainted ; and bitter was the regret 
 of Madge Button, who had awaited the result at Woolwich, to find him not 
 among the captured. Her presence of mind did not desert her, and calling 
 Bayes aside, she represented to him how serviceable she might be on future 
 occasions, if not "blown," as she termed it, in this affair: and the thieftaker, 
 seeing the reasonableness of her view, after shaking .her by the hand — 
 sealing the bargain with a kiss, and promising secresy, which he was sure to 
 observe, as it was his interest so to do — bade her farewell; Madge returned 
 to London to the home of Dennis, which was in a small house in Sun Tavern 
 Fields, Hackney, wilhout even a supicion on his part of the treachery in 
 which she had been engaged. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Nay, answer me, stand and unfold yourself.— Shakspere. 
 
 Peachum.— The Captain keeps too good company ever to grow rich. Maryhone and the chocolate- 
 houses are his undoing. 
 
 Mrs. Peachum.— Really I'm sorry, upon Polly's account, the Captain Hath not more discretion : what 
 business hath lie to keep company with lords and gentlemen 1 He should leave them to prey upon one 
 another.— BeggarVOi* 1 1. 
 
 It will be necessary, in pursuing the steps of Turpin, who had so fortu- 
 nately escaped the dangerous plot of Madge Dutton, to give the reader some 
 notion of the companions to whom his London life introduced him, the place 
 of his abode, and the manner of his life. All these are necessary to a right 
 understanding of this history; and unless he will allow his imagination to 
 throw him back a century, into the period when the second George was king 
 of these realms, we despair of conveying to him a just notion of the men and 
 times in which the bold Turpin flourished. 
 
 Few of our readers but have seen the announcement of the first stage-coach, 
 
DICK TURPIN 77 
 
 which " God willing, woulo. start trom York on a certain any In the year 
 of our Lord, 1739, and which would arrive, under the same pious D. V., at 
 London, some eight or ten days thereafter. This may serve to give some 
 notion of the infrequencjp of communication ; and this infrequency threw a 
 safety about the highwayman, which in this age of fast coaches and railroads 
 is no more. The highwayman who took a purse on the road, had then only 
 to ride across the country, and he was, comparatively speaking, as safe from pur- 
 suit or recognition, as if, a« ^his time, he betook himself to some distant land. 
 The merchant, the lawyer t ie farmer, the grazier, the commercial traveller, 
 knew not then the safeiy or banks, the convenience of paper currency, or the 
 accommodation of a ready and rapid transmission of valuable securities by 
 post. The grazier who drove up his live-stock from the north, returned, by 
 easy stages, on horseback, in or out of company, as he might happen to be 
 prudent or incautious, bold or cowardly, with the proceeds of his speculation 
 in ""bright red gold. 11 The farmer took his way to market with leathern or can 
 vass bag, well or scantily furnished, as his worldly means might permit. The 
 commercial traveller, proceeded on his rounds, with goods of the more valuable 
 md lighter descriptions in bulk, on packhorses or by the broad-wheeled wagon. 
 Lone after the time of our hero, even in the days of Fielding and of Smollett, 
 we find in their life-like novels, such persons as clergymen, and men of a 
 respectable rank in life, travelling by wagon; a conveyance now confined to 
 the lowest and most needy of the populace. For the shorter distances round 
 London and the great towns, there were, it is true, stage-coaches ; but these, 
 from the slowness of their motion, were overtaken or stopped at pleasure, and 
 thus offered an easy prey to the knights of the road. Another cause of im- 
 punitv and the contempt with which the laws were treated by the violators of 
 the;. 1 , was the corruption and inefficiency of our police regulations. A more 
 consummate set of scoundrels, as our criminal annals bear witness, could not 
 have been found than the subordinate ministers of justice. The lapse of a few 
 vears shows us no less than seven thieftakers who ended their days on "Ty- 
 burn tree'" for various desperate crimes of which they had been convicted. 
 Need we then wonder that a brave, daring fellow, such as our hero certainly 
 was, should run so striking a career, or that the roads in the neighbourhood 
 of the metropolis, should be so infested, as to occasion the then Duke of New- 
 castle to declare, that for a man of rank and property to travel fifty miles un- 
 molested, was so unusual th.it it had become the exception not the rule ! The 
 character of Macheath in the Beggars' Opera is not overdrawn, though some 
 modern critic has declared it to be so. The scurvy, cogging, petty larceny 
 knave of these degenerate days of thievery can furnish no point of comparison 
 with the dashing, well-dressed, well mounted man, who rode forth with primed 
 pistols, and jauntily cocked hat, to take a purse, and in so doing risk his life, 
 not so much at the gallows' foot, as by the barrel of the man whom he boldly 
 bid to " Stand and Deliver !" Numerous are the anecdotes, and many the 
 stories — and popular tradition is generally not far from truth in its main fea- 
 tures—of the generosity and bravery of those modern knights-errant, Turpin 
 and his companions. 
 
 The traveller who enters Westminster by the Great Dover Road, now 
 an integral portion of the Great Metropolis, can make but a poor guess 
 at the Westminster which Turpin saw. The stone bridge planned by the 
 skill of Hawksmoor, the second only in date which the inhabitants of 
 London beheld spanning the waters of father Thames, was not then erected. 
 
78 DICK TURPIN 
 
 The commodious thoroughfare of Bridge Street, and its continuation 
 Great George Street to Storey's Gate, was occupied by a labyrinth of 
 mean and miserable tenements. The western abutment of the Bridge was 
 then known as the Great Wool Staple. Some remains of the place where 
 this ancient Staple was held, especially an old stone gate, fronting the 
 Thames, were in being till 1746, when they were pulled down, until which 
 period the place retained its original name. At the same time also was 
 the noble avenue, now known as Parliament Street, widened and improved; 
 intil which time the only road to the houses p of England's senate, was 
 along King Street and Union Street, which were so miserably narrow, and 
 so wretchedly kept, that " faggots were thrown into the ruts on the days 
 the monarch went to Parliament to insure the safe passage of the state- 
 •oach."* The reader must excuse the dryness of these details; but thev 
 are necessary to picture the Westminster of our great-grandfathers. From 
 Union Street the road continued on the western side of Palace Yard 
 through St. Margaret's Lane $ to Old Palace Yard. Through this filth an 1 
 meanness a spacious opening was made and houses erected adapted for th 
 higher classes of society. The modern street is formed by this line with 
 the addition, so says the survey, of thirty-four feet 1 of the ground on 
 which Tudor Buildings once stood, and a portion *of »the Old Fish Yard, 
 or Market of Westminster. So extremely narrow aud incommodious was 
 the old lane that a paling of four feet high was placed between its single 
 foot path and the carriage-way, to protect the passenger from the car- 
 riages and the mud which they splashed on all sides in abundance. The 
 continuation of this wretched street was appropriately termed Dirty Lane 
 and the miserable hovels which lined it now bear the title of Abinsrdon 
 Street. Its end led to Palace stairs, where the bishops formerly disem- 
 barked from the palaces in the Strand, at Southwark, or at Lambeth, on 
 their way to the House of Lords ; for at that time it was the custom of 
 the Right Reverends to go to the House in state barges, rowed by ser- 
 vants in purple liveries. The eastern side of Dirty Lane was then filled 
 by numerous sheds and outbuildings, interspersed with a public-house or 
 two ; the Naked Boy and Star, burnt down in 1751, and the brick build- 
 ing which was once a tavern, and bearing tlw singular title of Heaven, 
 On this ground James Neeld, Esq. erected the present row of houses 
 fronting Abingdon Street, which were built from materials purchased at 
 the sale of Canons, the seat of the Marquis of Chandos, then latelv 
 pulled down. The stairs called Palace stairs, abovementioned, were biocked 
 up soon after the riots of 1780, upon the petition of Mr. Delaval, whose 
 house, situated near that spot, was much annoyed by " the vagabonds 
 and disorderly characters who daily assembled there." 
 
 The spectator, who now, standing in front of the beautiful hall of Rufus, 
 surveys the mighty fane where repose the ashes of patriots, poets, princes, and 
 prelates — the gifted to whom his country owes its proud position among the 
 nations — can form but little idea of what the hand of modern improvement 
 has effected in the neighbourhood of the Hall and Abbey. We must con 
 fess, for our parts, that the onward course of man has more charms for ou 
 
 * The History and Antiquities of Westminster, by J. T. Smith. This rare and 
 splendid Quarto volume wilh its two hundred and forty engravings on copper, is now 
 si-Hrrfe; but ii may be consulted in the librarv of the British Museum, No. 491. h. 
 
 J Now Si M !i;:arfci's Street*. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 79 
 
 contemplation than any mere antiquarian relic could possess. We are not 
 such Goths as would destroy the beautiful in art, or the venerable ruins which 
 time and historic recollections have consecrated ; yet we do feel a iittle vexed 
 at that silly veneration for mere stone and lime, which respects thein in pro- 
 portion to their age, rather than their utility or beauty. We have of late 
 been treated to several Jeremiads on the destruction of the ancient cloisters 
 of this building, or the. tower of that, or the gateway of the other ; though 
 each have been standing nuisances. This has been especially the case with 
 regard to the buildings in the vicinity of Westminster Abbey. As late as 
 1731, the fish-yard occupied the west side of the noble hall, where the com- 
 mittee rooms and other conveniences of the House of Commons and Law 
 Courts stand, and so blocked was the place with buildings, the members of Par- 
 liament groped their way through Waghorn's Coffee House, at the south end 
 of the Court of Requests, or through another tavern at the west end of the 
 same building. We have before mentioned public-houses bearing the odd 
 name of Heaven and Purgatory, near the south end of the hall ; its western 
 angle was obstructed by two others, who rivalled their neighbours by the titles 
 of Hell and Paradise; these, says the survey, were the resort of disreputable 
 characters, and the most raffish of lawvers' clerks. Not content with crowding 
 the area of New Palace Yard with irregularly-built hoases, our ancestors had 
 the barbaiity to erect seven mean-looking tenements before the gateway of the 
 Hall, thus concealing its venerable front ; nay, the very towers which flank its 
 gate were built against and hidden, the one by Oliver's, the other by the Ex- 
 chequer Coffee house. We have purposely dwelt in this detail chiefly on those 
 spots whick now present clear an. I beautiful openings for the health-laden 
 Ivieze and the sunshine of heaven, rather than those spots still so nnsavourv 
 which exist in the purlieus of Duck-lane, Peter-street, the Almonry, Strutton- 
 ground, &c, &c; those any reader may still wander through, though even 
 they are changed marv^llouslv for the better, by the substitution of upright- 
 r -nnt<*d brirk houses, for the old over-han^injf wooden tenements, whose 
 friendly garret windows, in the more narrow streets, almost shook han '- with 
 their opposite neighbours. We need not say that this subuib of West- 
 minster* with its dirt and its ancient privilege of sanctuary, was the resort 
 of the profligate ; for though poverty is by no means synonymous with 
 crime, yet ciime always seeks companionship with poverty. This has in- 
 duced many persons to confound two things totally different ; and because the 
 vicious, with the view of concealment, ordinarily seek the haunts of the 
 poor, there have not been wanting those who would identify the dwellings 
 of the necessitous with the abode of crime. 
 
 In a yard, at the bottom of the Broadway, resided the notorious Nan 
 Turner, of Golden-lane memory. She was at this period plaving spouse 
 to Bob Berry the cork-cutter, who, as the tomb-stones have it, "departed 
 this life" at Tyburn, in 1733. Fielder and Turpin also slept in this 
 house, which was frequented by many of their companions, Ned Rust, 
 Bush, and others ; Rose, who had served out the period allotted to his 
 imprisonment, also joined them. Turpin and his chosen pal stabled their 
 horses at the old Leaping Bar, in High Holborn ; the fields at the end 
 of which t'.en commanded an uninterrupted view, from Bloomsbury north- 
 ward, to Highgate and Hampstead hills, and westward along the" Oxford 
 road, now Oxford-street, and the meadows adjacent, to the Edgeware road 
 and Harrow. 
 
60 DICK TURPJN. 
 
 Our hero is now fairly launched on his desperate and reckless caree*. His 
 name, from the number and daring off his exploits, was fast attaining a bad 
 eminence. Yet however questionable on the score of morality might be the 
 nature of his actions, generosity and courage, which are ever popular, were so 
 strikingly displayed, that men almost forgot the crime of the deed in admira- 
 tion of the high spirit and boldness of its execution. It would be uninter- 
 esting and wearisome to our readers to detail each of the many adventures 
 on the road, in which Turpin was about this time engaged. His residence 
 we have before described ; but during the time he lived here, he met with an 
 individual whose association so influenced his future life, that it would be un- 
 pardonable to omit the particulars of their first encounter. 
 
 Dick had been taking a canter on the road one evening — for it was no 
 uncommon thing for him to leave London by way of Bloomsbury and the 
 Oxford road, (now Oxford street), as early as noon-day — when near Alton he 
 espied a gentlemanly looking personage, well mounted, with whom he soon 
 rode up and commenced a conversation. His fellow traveller was slightly 
 made, but active ; his dress was neat, and possessed an aristocratic cut, which 
 impressed Turpin with the idea that he was of rank. The equipments of bis 
 steed were remarkable for their finish and tastefulness ; and his countenance, 
 the features of which were rather too small and regular for manly beauty, 
 bore a pleasing smile as they exchanged salutations, which spoke of the po- 
 liteness and urbanity of a man used to good society. The traveller appeared 
 of a merry and careless disposition, and in the course of their talk, more than 
 once alluded to the exploits of Turpin, whom he expressed a great desire to 
 see. Thev were as yet too near the village to be secure from molestation, 
 had even our hero felt disposed to have done a little professional with his 
 newly-found admirer ; besides Dick, who was by no means avaricious, was 
 amused with his frankness and apparent fearlessness. 
 
 " A pleasant evening, sir," said the stranger, courteously ; " Rather finer, 
 too, than we had cause to anticipate from the cloudy look of the day. Riding 
 far on this road, sir f" 
 
 " Not a great way, sir," replied Dick ; " I've been at Farnham, taking a look 
 at the hop-market : trade confoundedly dull. Much afraid my steward will have 
 a long face at quarter day, which has an awfully depressing effect on the 
 nerves of a landlord. Rents are surely at the lowest, yet my tenantry declare 
 that thev are unable to pay even the current dues, although most of them 
 are sadly in arrear." 
 
 Turpin looked askance at the f<ice of his fellow traveller. He observed a 
 meaning smile steal across his countenance, the expression of which he did 
 not like ; and still less did he understand the merry ha ! ha ! with which the 
 stranger followed it. Dick looked at him somewhat doubtfully, but 
 affected not to notice it. 
 
 " Egad, if you've at all been doing business at Alton, J'd advise you to be 
 wary ; for the whole country hereabouts, is ringing with the deeds of one 
 Turpin, (Dick felt still mor.e perp'exed at the behaviour of his companion,) who 
 certainly is an astonishing fellow, if half they say of him be true. Pon honor, 
 I'm thinking he must have some little dealings with the o'd gentleman ; for 
 we hear of him everywhere, but catch him nowhere. Demrne, but I'm of 
 opinion there must be some half dozen of 'em. I've heard some curious an- 
 ecdotes of him of late. Such as his robbing Mr. Sheldon, of Croydon, to 
 whom he gave back his watch, in consideration of its being a family relic: his 
 
MCK TURPI!*. 
 
 si 
 
 Vuni'n 6tops Tom King. 
 
 returning fourfold to the poor woman at Ferrybridge, whom he had robbed 
 by mistake ; and several others " * 
 
 All this time Turpin felt that he was observed by his companion. His was 
 not the heart to feel fear; yet there is many a brave man who never shrunk 
 from open danger, who has felt perplexed, nay, agitated by something very 
 like fear, to feel fear itself, at some inexplicable anticipation. Yet there was 
 something in the manner and conduct of the stranger which determined our 
 hero to know more of him. The latter seemed to enjoy his embarrassment, 
 and continued, 
 
 • A mere relerence to one or two of the instances of Turpin's generosity, extracted literally from 
 the meagre sketch of Turpin given in the Tyburn Records, vol. I., p. 09, may not be out of place 
 here : they will suffice to show that the popular estimate of his character wa» by no means unfounded. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the dreadful scenes of robbery in which Turpin was engaged, he gave several 
 proofs of his possessing a heart capable of feeling for the distresses of a fellow-creature, and a spirit 
 of generosity. He once met a country dealer coming up to markei on the Essex road, whom he com- 
 manded to stop and deliver his money. The poor man told him he had but fifteen shillings and six- 
 pence, which he said was his all — and, if it was taken from him, he should be reduced to absolute 
 want. Turpin, whose finances wera quite exhausted, answered, there was no time to be lost — his 
 money he must have ; but at the same time desired him to be in a certain part of Newgate Street, on 
 a particular hour the next day, with his hat in his hand : and if a person walked by and dropped any- 
 thing into his hat, to take no notice, but go immediately about his business. The man accordingly 
 took his station at the time appointed, and had not been there more than half an hour before he felt 
 something fall into his hat, and upon opening the 6mall packet, to his great joy, he found it to contana 
 ten guineas 
 
 " Another time ne rooDed a poor woman returning from Ferrybridge, where she had been to see 
 some commodities ; and soon ufter, hearing she was distressed by her landlord for rent, he contrived to 
 relieve her in the following singular manner. He found out her abode, and threw into the window, 
 through the glass, a leather bag, containing gold and silver to the avount of six pounds." 
 
 No. 11. 
 
32 DICK TURPIN 
 
 " Well, foregad, I'd give a trifle to see this same Turpin, .or no one ad- 
 mires courage more than I do; though it's a queer fancy to wish to see a 
 highwayman, except at a long distance. I've a notion that he'd be a pleasant 
 fellow to crack a bottle with. If they should ever lodge him in quod, I'll 
 visit him, if it was only out of curiosity, damme ! " 
 
 "You need not wait till your kind wishes for his apprehension are fulfilled," 
 replied Dick, suddenly turning his horse across the roadway, and presenting 
 the things. -J- "I'll do myself the pleasure of drinking a bottle to our better 
 acquaintance — though for the present, as I'm out of cash, I'll take the liberty 
 of borrowing the money. Come, deliver your purse, and you may keep all 
 the rest about you." 
 
 The behaviour of the stranger was singular. Clapping his hands upon his 
 hips, he burst into a hearty laugh, a laugh so loud and clear that the neigh- 
 bouring echoes rung with it. Dick knew not what to make of this ; but kept 
 his eye keenly fixed on his odd victim, for so he thought him. He laughed 
 again. Turpin was growing impatient, and strongly suspecting some trick, 
 was about imperatively to demand his ready money, when the stranger, having 
 recovered his voice, though tears of merriment stood in his eyes, exclaimed, — 
 
 " What, dog rob dog? ha ! ha ! Why Dick, man, don't you know a toby- 
 man from a chawbacon ? Well, strike me, if that's not good! Put up your 
 barking irons, my chuff'un, and save your saltpetre for somebody else." Then 
 changing his tone so as to mimic the supplicating whine of a cowardly victim, 
 he added, " Pray, pray, good Mr. Highwayman, have pity on poor Tom 
 King!" 
 
 Another burst of laughter followed. Turpin slowly returned the pistols to 
 his holster, and caught King by the hand. He had met him once or twice 
 before at the White Hart, as noticed at the beginning of a former chapter, 
 but did not recognize him at the moment, though he had that floating remem- 
 brance of the features which still more puzzled him as to where he had before 
 seen their owner. The greeting was cordial, and from this time forth Turpin 
 and King were sworn confederates; and many a time did they laugh as they 
 talked over their encounter on the road. And now, gentle reader, we will 
 introduce you also to spicy Tom. 
 
 Who more gay at Marvbone ? Who more admired among the loungers ot 
 the chocolate houses ? Who more smiled on by the fair frail ones of Drury, 
 than Tom King? His character, from all we have been enabled to glean, 
 appears to have been a curious though not uncommon admixture of the fop 
 and the man of courage. Few sported a smarter boot at D' Osyndar's or 
 Wills's, or a more elegant silk-clad leg at Marybone, or Cuper's, or other 
 places of fashionable resort ; and few bloods of the day could boast of greater 
 success with the sex than Tom. Ready in conversation, pleasing and affable 
 in manners, polite in bearing, gentlemanly in appearance, and of good extrac- 
 tion — he was calculated to shine in any society into which he might be thrown. 
 A perfect master of the small sword, and of unquestionable courage — he was 
 the looking glass of the young rufflers among whom he mixed, and the exem- 
 plar from which they modelled their follies, and, truth to say, copied not a 
 few of their vices ; in short, he was the very D' Orsay of highwaymen. 
 
 The world was ever the dupe of appearances: outside shew has always been, 
 as it still must be, the criterion by which the many judge of mankind. The 
 
DICK TURPIN. 83 
 
 specious blackleg of the modern hell, he who by false dice, planted cards, or 
 confederate bonnets, plunders the titled flats of the nineteenth century, is but 
 the degenerate and cowardly type of the bold highwayman of the eight- 
 eenth. The latter mixed in the best of company, as by a strange conventional 
 misnomer, the sprigs of nobility who ambitioned the reputation of men about 
 
 town, have been called. He too ruffled, bullied, diced, drank, and , 
 
 like the more artificial and refined thief of these days, the gambler. Yet it 
 may be doubted if the robberies of the former class could be so destructive as 
 his crafty successor, the chevalier d' industrie ; and though hazard was alike 
 the game of both, there is something more manly, something less repugnant 
 to our best feelings in the bravery of the highwayman, that must place him 
 far above the scurvy, cogging, cozening knave of billiards, faro, roulette, or 
 the card table. 
 
 King, on his first start into life, had been possessed of a small fortune : the 
 gaieties and dissipation of the metropolis however possessed too strong attract- 
 ions for one of his mercurial temperament to resist ; and Tom, in a very short 
 time, was without a sous in the exchequer. Rings, snuff-boxes, superfluous 
 swords, et hoc genus omne of the nicknackeries which made up the dandy of 
 our great-grandfather's days, were successively parted with, until Tom found 
 himself, one evening, with his only remaining court-suit on his back, his last 
 guinea in his pocket, and his woman by his side, seated in the dress boxes of 
 Old Drury. Despite his high flow of animal spirits, despite the poco-curante, 
 devil-may-care hilarity of his temper, King had too sound a judgment not to 
 perceive the dead lock to which he was brought. His vices and follies were 
 too much a part of his existence to be readily or lightly parted with ; he was 
 not the sort of man to weary his friends, to let himself down before the com- 
 panions of his revels, and patch up his poverty for a time by meanly soliciting 
 loans, with risk of a humiliating refusal. As he revolved these things, he but 
 little heeded the scene before him ; he was recalled to the business of the stage 
 by the loud plaudits of the audience. The play was the Beggars' Opera :-p 
 the actress who supported the pert Polly was Miss Fenton. Tom, ever alive to 
 female beauty, soon became interested in her performance, and was gradually 
 led, through her dulcet notes, into the impression of the reality of the scene 
 before him, so necessary to the right enjoyment of dramatic representations. 
 The bold Macbeath figured through his adventurous career ; and so fixed was 
 his interest and attention, that it was not until the curtain fell, King was 
 awakened from his reverie. 
 
 "Tom, my love," said the dashing bona roba at his side, slightly pressing 
 her hand on his arm ; " one would think you'd been dreaming for this hour or 
 two. I'm not jealous, you know, but come, confess, dearest, don't you think 
 
 t In the year 1727-8, appeared the "Beggar's Opera;" the vast success of which was almost incre- 
 dible: during the two following seasons it run one hundred and twenty-six nights. It spread into 
 every great town of England, and was played in many thirty or forty nights, and at Bath and Bristol 
 fifty. It made its progress into Wales, Scotland, and Ireland — whs acted in Dublin thirty-four suc- 
 cessive nights, and was performrd several times at Minorca. Nor was the fame of it confined to the 
 reading and representation alone, for the card-table and drawing-room vied with the theatre and 
 closet in this respect. The ladies carried about the favourite songs of it engraven on their fan-mounts 
 and screens, and other pieces of furniture were similarly decorated. Miss Fenton, who sustained the 
 character of Polly, though till then in obscurity, became suddenly the idol of the town ; her portrait 
 was engraven and sold in great numbers— books of letters and verses to her were published— there 
 was even a pamphlet printed containing her sayings and je6ts. She herseif was received into the 
 highest circles ; and finally she attained the highest rank a female subject can acquire, by becoming 
 by marriage the Duchess of Bolton. The profits of this piece were so considerable, both to the 
 author ml Mr. Rich, then manager of Old Drury, as to make it euid, that it had made Rich guy, and 
 Guy rich. 
 
A DICK TURPIN. 
 
 i enton devilish handsome t You're a sad rake, Torn, 1 ' and the syren sighed ; 
 
 i fear yoi/re*t>orn to break the hearts of us weak women ; but mind, Tom," 
 
 •nd she playfully tapped him with her fan ; " mind, Tom, I don't hear of your 
 
 -adding about after Miss Polly — though 1 think you love me too well for that 
 
 -don't you, Tom ?" 
 
 King turned and smiled, but replied only by a slight pressure of ner hand, 
 js he drew her arm under his, and they prepared to leave the theatre. 
 
 Many were the nods and greetings which Tom and his fair companion re- 
 vived as they rustled through the stiff brocades, and silks, and hoops, which 
 wowded the staircase. Tom's gallantry eschewed the unsocial,^solitary sedan ; 
 he and his fair one entered a carriage. King was still silent and abstracted, 
 a mood with him so unusual, that his innamorata began to feel a little real 
 aroeasiness stealing into the place of the feigned jealousy she had just played 
 off. Again she rallied him, and with rather more *asperity. She, however, 
 had it all her own way, until, her temper being not accustomed to such trials, 
 she exclaimed pettishly, prefixing it with a half suppressed sob, and an appeal 
 to her handkerchief — 
 
 " Tom, I see it all — it's plain enougn now — silly poor fool that I was tt 
 believe that you loved me ! But go — leave me — desert me : I might have 
 expected this cruelty ! Oh, Tom, do not however — though you leave me — 
 do not—" 
 
 " Zounds !" exclaimed King ; " wny, wnat in tne name of Lucifer ana a 3 
 his imps is e the woman at now ? I was no more thinking of Polly than of 
 my grandmother;" the lady had thrown herself weeping on his shoulder; 
 " Do you think, my own, my dearest Letty, that it was the sight of a mere 
 baby-faced singing girl that would make me treat you with neglect ? No ! fto \ 
 my mind was occupied with other thoughts." 
 
 " Then I ought to know them," said Lettv coaxmgly ; " I've never given my 
 Tom reason to mistrust me, have I ?' 
 
 " No, no, love," replied King, revolving in nis mind some expedient to Vanfe 
 her »oquisitiveness; for his thoughts were such as he meant not to divulge. 
 
 " I received a letter, love, conveying some IHrrrteasant family news ; an 
 old uncle, too, from whom I've expectations, is at the point of death — though, 
 egad," and King cleared his brow, and rattled on in his ordinary good humour: 
 " though, egad, you'll say that's no reason a fellow should be dull as a Dutch- 
 man. Well Letty, love, what say you to a jaunt to St. George's Spa to- 
 morrow, or to the Punch House at Sadler's Wells ?"t 
 
 t " Sadler's Wells was so c lied from the existence of two chalybeate springs, formerly the property 
 of a man named Sadler. From early records it would appear, that the ground originally belonged to 
 the monastery of St. John, Clerkenwell ; and we find it, from an early survey, to have been then laid 
 out in gardens. In the time of James I , the Wells appear to have been opened to the public ; and, 
 from scattered notices in va ious works, we find the resort to the mineral waters in the vicinity of the 
 metropolis was, at that period, as fashionable among the tradesmen — their wives and daughters, as a 
 Vrip to the more distant Brighton, Cheltenham, Margate, &c. are now. Among them appear — Islington 
 
 />a, the London Spa, the Tunbridge Spa, the Dog and Duck Spa, St. George's Fields, St. Chad's Well, 
 Cray's Inn Lane, ic. &c. In the time of Cromwell, (1652) resorting to these places were prohibited 
 
 , the puritanical rulers of the land, under the pretext th.-vt they fostered superstition, and " Popish 
 
 ..servances:" they were also denounced as "the resort of lewde and disorderly persons." In the 
 «ign of Charles II., Sadler purchased the ground on which the theatre and adjoining tenements now 
 
 'and. He made several erections, principally of wood, and opened it as a place of public recreation 
 rid entertainment under the title of " Sadler's Wells Music House :" he also re-opened the two wells. 
 
 •a process of time it came into the possession of one Forcer, a dancing-master, who introduced, in 
 Edition to vocal and instrumental music, dancing, rope-vaulling, tumbling, &c. The Bon of Forcer 
 
 •acceded him, and at his death the estate came into the possession of Mr. Rosoman, (whose name is 
 reserved in Rosoman Street, &c.) This proprietor altered the buildings into something of the form 
 a regular theatre ; for we find there was a staee, scenery, an orchestra, a curtain, Ice. The enler- 
 .vinments announced were singing, dancing, tumbling, rope-dancing, and various gymnastic (zeroises, 
 .•-4th oemsionitl kurlettas, or rather, musical dialogues between two er three performers at most. The 
 
DICK TTTRPIN. M 
 
 " You needn't ask me, Tom," replied she, drying ner eyes ; "you know I'll 
 go wherever you please. But, Tom, did you buy me the silk Joseph I priced 
 in Ludgate Street on Saturday. I see you didn't by your looks ; out of sight 
 out of mind — eh, Tom ?" 
 
 Thus the conversation went on until it again turnea on the play. 
 
 " That dear Captain Macheath !" exclaimed Letty; " I don't wonder at all 
 the wenches running after him. So bold so handsome — I could love a high- 
 wayman for his sake !" 
 
 King smiled slightly as he handed her from the coach. " Good night, 
 love," said he ; " I've letters to write respecting the affair I told you of: I'll 
 be with you early to-morrow. Adieu, dearest ; and, mind you dream of the 
 highwayman." 
 
 That night saw a well-equipped horseman gaily cantering on the road to 
 Hounslow ' n and the next day the talk of the barbers' shops and street-corners 
 was the daring robbery of my Lord of Newcastle by a single highwayman ; 
 how his lordship, as he left Windsor from attending on his majesty, had been 
 plundered of a great sum in gold and jewels ; and how he had refused to 
 allow steps to be taken for his apprehension, (no one had the slightest clue) 
 in consequence of his courteous treatment, and the generous return, by the 
 robber, of a picture of his majesty set with diamonds, his seal-ring, and his 
 watch. Need we say the highwayman was Tom King? 
 
 Such was Turpin's new confederate. Often after spending the day in the 
 gaieties of the town, did they stop at night the very man whose movements 
 they had thus made themselves acquainted with during the day. We left 
 our hero and King, riding towards London. 
 
 '* Dick, my worthy," said King, " I've often desired a closer intimacy, for 
 damme, but I admire your mettle. That's a pretty nag under you : but that'* 
 not what I wished to talk to you about. I'm not down here without a scent ; 
 and as I don't do my business through lurchers, but start my own game, (which 
 you'll find the safer plan\ I'll let you into a secret. Dick, we are both gen- 
 tlemen, and what say you if I introduce you to my Lord Coventry this evening, 
 ami make the visit pleasant and profitable to us both, eh? how like > u Lue 
 notion ?" 
 
 " I like it much," said Turpin ; "here's my hand on't ; consider it as done. 
 You must not be seen in it, Tom ; be may know you, though I did not. By 
 Jove, my buck, I have it. Leave it to me. Only detain him at the 
 Star a few minutes and if he 'scape, laugh at me, that's all." 
 
 plan on -which the place was conducted at this time seems closely to have resembled that of many of 
 our public concerts of the metropolis, now the resort of the lower orders. The house, though vending 
 ale and other liquors, bore the name of the " Punch House." No admission money was paid ; for, 
 though something beyond the average prices were charged for the liquors supplied to the company, 
 any person was at liberty to walk into the area in which the performances took place — where, it would 
 appear, they smoked and drank, while shrimps, &c. were hawked about for sale. Rosoman eventually 
 took a partner of the name of Rutherford, who dying, left his share to his widow, coupled with the 
 condition that she should live single, or the property devolve to Hosoman. A friend of Hosoman's, 
 however, won the widow's affections ; she married — Rosoman became possessed of the forfeited share, 
 and again sole proprietor of Sadler's Wells.' . 
 
 " Itwas, for many years, a custom at this theatre to sell to the audience negus and punch at sixpenco 
 per pint, as an inducement to the public to visit the "Wells." A printed ticket, one of which now 
 lies before us, was given to each, person, with the following notice: — " The bearer of this ticket is 
 entitled to a pint of wine, or of punch, on paying an additional sixpence." This brought, at one 
 period, a lucrative trade, and a more numerous than respectable audience to the house. 
 
 "The two wells, whence its original designation was acquired, still exist on the primiscs; one in the 
 yard, which is arched over— the other in the cellar boneath the theatre. The water for the various 
 exhibitions is hot obtained from these wells, but conveyed through pipes from the reservoir at tin- 
 New River Head." 
 
 The above account is abridged from the Life of Joseph Orimaldi, by the author ( ,f this work, where 
 will »l»o be fond many other particulars relating to " The Wells." 
 
8C DICK TUIIPIN. 
 
 * I don't approve of your having all the danger, though," said Tom, " I'll V 
 be at hand, in case of necessity/' 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! never fear : dy'e think I'll sloven it ? Show me the rattier,* 
 and I'll give you the account of its contents." 
 
 Matters were soon arranged, and King rode forward to the inn at which 
 the young nobleman was expected, who soon after arrived. He was personally 
 acquainted with King, from a town introduction ; and was then on his way to 
 his country seat. Pleased at meeting the pleasant Tom, he ordered wine ; a 
 merry hour and a half was spent, and in the mean while Dick made the neces- 
 sary arrangerne.iis for the success of their exploit 
 
 " The sun set, and up rose the the yellow moon; 
 The devil's in the moon for mischief," 
 
 and so would my Lord Coventry have thought, if he had known what was to 
 befal him in the next hour. After some hearty shakes of the hand, and pro- 
 mises, and an appointment to meet in London at a future day, King bid good 
 bye to his aristocratic bottle-companion. 
 
 The evening was beautiful ; the broad bright orb of a summer moon sil- 
 vered the foliage of the massy and majestic timber which clothed both vale 
 and upland ; there was scarcely enough motion in the air to shake the leaf oi 
 the aspen ; and the nightingale poured its song from the grove. The at- 
 tendants of the nobleman consisted of his valet, and a postillion. They were 
 now entering a narrow lane. Long rows of lofty over-arching elms threw 
 dense shadows on the roadway ; they had advanced some fifty yards along this 
 avenue when the horse on which the boy rode suddenly shied, and tossing his 
 head, reared at some obstacle in the road : his rider spurred him on, and he 
 fell, dragging with him the off horse, who had also stopped short. The boy 
 rolled from the saddle, the valet leaped from the rumble, and opening the 
 carriage-door enquired if his lordship was hurt ; a question more polite than 
 necessary, seeing that nothing had happened which was likely to hurt him. 
 His lordship was just enjoying a doze, to which the sultriness of the evening 
 and the fumes of the wine had disposed him, when he was awoke by the 
 sudden stoppage. 
 
 " What the devil's the matter now, Stevens ! 'Sblood, a horse down, eh ? 
 Help the lad to get him up then, and be d — d to you. Stab me, but you 
 stare like a fool. Shut the door, fellow ; I'm drowsy." 
 
 A minute after Stevens again softly opened the door. " My Lord," said 
 he, almost in a whisper, " we can't get on ; there's one of the horses disabled 
 by his fall. One would think 'twas done on purpose ; there's a small tree 
 across the road, and so barked that it was not to be seen in the moonlight. 
 Shall I go back to the Star, my Lord V 
 
 " You may go to h — ,'' vociferated the angry nobleman; for in those days 
 the accomplishments of drinking and swearing formed a distinguishing feature 
 in the composition of a man about town, to which character his lordship laid 
 claim. " Strike me, but these rascally road-contractors shall hear of this, 
 the d — d scoundrels. That extortionate numskull too, the host at the Star, 
 to send a nobleman on with such foundered catsmeat. Demme, but I'll horse- 
 whip him !"' 
 
 His lordship having now swore himself awake, looked out of the front 
 
DICK TUKP1N. 87 
 
 window of the carriage with a stretch and a yawn. " Stevens," said he, — the 
 valet hastened to the carriage-door — " Stevens, what the devil's the use of 
 your running away ; can't the young scamp there, go as well for the fresh 
 horses, you blockhead ? ' 
 
 " Certainly my Lord," replied he : and the boy accordingly mounted the 
 uninjured horse and rode back to the inn 
 
 He had scarcely cleared the lane when a man stepped from behind a tree 
 at the road-side. 
 
 " Stand, or I fire !" exclaimed he, presenting a pistol to the head of the 
 alarmed valet, who stood near the open coach door. 
 " Down on your knees !'' 
 
 The man knelt. Turpin's eye was, meantime, directed towards his lorcship, 
 who, having recovered his first astonishment, clearly saw how affairs stood. 
 His lordship was no coward ; yet the coolness and assurance of the highway- 
 man, who was now passing a cord round the wrists of his servant before his 
 face, for the moment staggered him. He placed his hand in the carriage- 
 pocket, and drawing forth one of his travelling pistols, deliberately levelled 
 it at Turpin's head. The weapon flashed in the pan. Our hero turned to 
 him with a smile — 
 
 "Upon my word," said he coolly; "I'm obliged to your lordship for 
 reminding me of your presence. I have to apologise for not waiting on you 
 first." 
 
 Lord Coventry had snatched another pistol from its receptac'e. Again the 
 sharp click of the lock and the disappointing flash of the priming-powder 
 ensued — he angrily dashed the harmless weapon at Dick, who, ducking his 
 head, avoided the missile. His lordship threw himself back on the seat, with 
 the air of a man who has lost all hope of resistance. ,; 
 
 " Obliged to you for your kind intentions," said Turpin, without ensu 
 changing the tone of his voice, or dismissing the smile which played on so 
 much of his face as was not hidden by the mask. 
 
 " Much obliged for kind intentions," repeated Dick. "But, my dear lord, 
 when next you feel inclined to shoot any body, be sure the charges of your 
 pops haven't been drawn." 
 
 His lordship looked absolutely confounded 
 
 " And now, if you please, we'll discuss business-matters. I must trouble 
 you for your loose cash, my lord — (a purse was handwd to him.) And now, 
 if you please, I'll take your watch : it's a handsome one I know — (his lordship 
 slowly drew it from his fob): that diamond on your finger, too: and I'll also 
 thank you for the miniature you carry of a lovely lady, of whom we'll say 
 nothing." 
 
 All but the last-named article were delivered with the air of a man who is 
 helplessly resigned. His lordship now found his tongue. 
 
 " Gadzooks, Mi. Highwayman," said he; "I'm sorry I didn't know you 
 better: I take it you're a gentleman; and as it seems (his lordship here un- 
 buttoned his coat, and drew forth a picture) you know of this — though, stifle 
 me, if I can guess who the h — 1 could tell of it — I'll make an appeal to you. 
 The picture I'll not part with, damme (his lordship grew warm) ; and if you're 
 the blood I suppose, you'll not insist on it. Name the terms, and I'll redeem 
 my word as a man of honour and a gentleman." 
 
 " Why, really," replied Dick, " I've wasted more time on you than I ought 
 already. I forgive vou the attempt you made to provide for me in the otbre 
 
88 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 world ; and as 1 ve reason to believe four lordship hal an affection tot the 
 picture, and I've no wish to disfigure it by breaking it from its frame, say thirty 
 guineas ; an order for immediate payment on your agent at Coombe, and I'll 
 ensure its presentation before your lordship can trouble him with any advice 
 on the subject." 
 
 Lord Coventry drew forth his pocketbook, and, extracting a leaf, wrote the 
 required order. Turpin looked narrowly at it — folded it — and, bowing lowly, 
 and with an air of mock reverence to his lordship, closed the coach-door. A 
 low whistle was heard, and he disappeared through the hedge by the way he 
 had come out. 
 
 All this while the valiant Stevens had knelt, with bound-wrists and piteous 
 aspect, in the road. His master looked out — and, despite his vexation at the 
 untoward affair, could not keep his gravity at viewing the pale and affrighted 
 countenance of his terrified menial. 
 
 " By G — !" exclaimed he ; " may I be struck comical, if yoo are not the 
 drollest picture of a goose at his last gasp I'd ever the luck to see ! Why 
 what, in the name of all that's miserable, ails the man ? Get up with you, 
 confound your sneaking, white-livered soul, will you?'' 
 
 Stevens rose from his genuflexions. Th« whistle Turpin had heard was 
 the signal of the approach of the horses and assistance. They came, the 
 obstruction was removed, and his lordship proceeded on his journey. We need 
 not say the order was presented and duly honoured. 
 
 We will now return to Tom King, who had remained lying flat on 
 the sward behind the hedge, an attentive observer and listener to the transac- 
 tions we have described. The twain walked hastily down the highroad, and 
 unfastening their steeds, rode gaily across the country. King was not more 
 loud than sincere in his eulogies on our hero's conduct ; and Turpin was 
 equally pleased with the manners of his comrade. They took their way 
 towards Lendon, in high spirits and extreme good humour, at the success of 
 their adventure. 
 
 A day or two after their return to town, Turpin and his friend Tom were 
 saunteringdown Margaret Lane, with the intention of idling an hour at Oliver's, 
 to learn the news of the day- when, as they were about to turn into Palace 
 Yard, they were passed by a motley rabble of ragged boys, unwashed coster- 
 mongers, and slipshod women, shouting most vociferously, thrusting and 
 elbowing towards a knot of blackguards who were carrying a woman, appar- 
 ently drunk, in the midst of them. 
 
 "Hurrah! for Roarine Pes," cried the disorderlv mob. "Hurrah! for 
 the ducking stool ! t hurrah! hurrah!" and onward rushed the riff-raft" down 
 the narrow nasty avenue of Dirty Lane. Bellowing and shouting, on they 
 passed, and turning by Purgatory, tool their way to the river side. 
 
 "Shall we follow, and see the sport?" suggested Dick, "What the deuce 
 does it all mean 1 " 
 
 " Have you never seen the cooling discipline ?" asked King. 
 
 Dick replied in the negative. 
 
 " Have with you then :" and the friends followed the riotous assemblage. 
 
 Arrived at the spot, they witnessed a curious scene. The victin of this 
 
 + "Th* Duckinj-stool stood at the end of Dirty Lane, near the building called Purgatory. It wa t 
 removed about 1738."— See Smith's History and Antiquities of Westminster, 4to. London, 1807. 
 where a description of the apparatus is given. 
 
DICK TUKPIN. 
 
 89 
 
 Either ai:d Madeline recognize Turpin. 
 
 popular discipline was a muscular virago of some thirty-five years old, and dis- 
 played in her neglected person, and carbuncled face, the wreck of a once-fine 
 woman, destroyed by the curse of that scorching pestilence, gin. In spite of 
 her kicks and struggles she was thrust into a strong and clumsily-constructed 
 wooden arm-chair, and a rod of iron being passed through a hole in the 
 extremity of either arm, she was effectually confined therein. This chair was 
 attached by a chain to the longer lever of a huge wooden beam, and by the 
 united efforts of a number of men the drunken scold was at once elevated in 
 the air amid the vociferations of the mob. 
 
 " Now, my lads," exclaimed the beadle, who appeared to be master of the 
 ceremonies on this important occasion, " stand clear there!" and he lustily 
 applied his rattan to the shoulders of the junior branches of the bystanders. 
 The ponderous machine swung upon the post which formed its fulcrum, and 
 by a half revolution placed the lady in mid air, suspended over the river,' 
 which was now at high tide. 
 
 " Hurrah ! '' shouted the crowd. 
 
 The functionary gave the signal ; the relaxed rope attached to the shorter 
 arm of the lever allowed the chair to descend, and the incorrigible scold dis- 
 No. 12 
 
90 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 appeared, head and all, beneath the waters. Again was it elevated, and again 
 sputtering oaths and imprecations, was its unlucky feminine appendage im- 
 mersed. 
 
 " Hold hard ! " cried the beadle. " Peg, will you promise not to give me 
 and these gentlemen this trouble again ? *' 
 
 Peg's reply was too strong for " ears polite," so once more she was "pluno-ed 
 hissing liot into the bosom of Thames." This time there was a momentary 
 pause fcjgfore the ascending beam aga,in exhibited Peg to the derision and 
 laughter of .the populace. The last dip had cooled her. 
 
 " For the love of Mercy ! " exclaimed she " let me out, and I'll promise 
 never again — " 
 
 "Land her," cried the beadle; but to this some of the malicious assistants 
 demurred. 
 
 "D — n it, mister, let's guv her another dip; it nil do her a mort o* 
 good," remonstrated they. But the dignitary knew that one concession to 
 such demands was ever followed by others; so, to preserve the authority* of 
 his office, ho peremptorily forbid it. The arm was swung round; Pe°- was de- 
 posited on terra firma, and the beadle, after exacting a public and unconditional 
 promise of peaceable conduct, ordered her release. 
 
 Turpin and King retired much amused from the scene, and the victim of 
 intoxication staggered home to her hovel, with a 'tail' of ragamjiffins that 
 would have been envied by the great Irish agitator. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " — She loved me once; 
 Now »a|fs and swoons e'en at my sight. She's true; 
 Hut Iwiave stained the heart that once could soar 
 High as hcrownl Dreams I dreamst and vet, entranced, 
 Unto the fair pliantasma that is tied 
 My struggling fancy clings. Oh there are hours 
 When memory with her signet stamps the brain 
 With an undying mint: and those were such 
 When fond ambition and enraptured love, 
 T«m genii of my daring destiny, 
 Bore on my sweeping life on their full wing. 
 To joys as bright as baseless." 
 
 — The tragedy of Count Alarcos. 
 
 Tis circumstance makes conduct. Life's a ship 
 
 The sport of every wind ; and yet men tack 
 
 Against the adverse blast. How shall 1 steer 
 
 Who am the pilot of Necessity ? — Idem. 
 
 The lamps in the garden at Ranelagh shone down on "fair women and 
 brave men," for it was. the night of a grand fete. The alleys and walks were 
 crowded with gaily-dressed people. The etiquette of court dress was then 
 strictly observed, and the ruffles, bag-wig, breeches, and sword, were indispens- 
 able to obtaining admittance to the festive scene. The costume then adopted 
 drew a strong line of demarcation between the tradesman and the gentlemjn, 
 either real or pretended. The substantial citizen of the John Gilpin school, 
 he who, clad in sober brown and grey worsted stockings, duly on the sabbath, 
 headed, with his good dame, a family procession to the parish church, has no 
 
DICK TURP1N. 91 
 
 successor among the modem tribe of shopkeepers; and his manners, habits, 
 tastes, and amusements, were as dissimi'ar as his dre a s from those who aie 
 conventionally supposed to be " his betters.' He mixed not with thorn, nor 
 held other conversation or communion with them, than across the counter of 
 his warehouse. For such an one to have indulged in the abomination of a 
 scarlet coat, and its appurtenances, would have been equivalent to a declara- 
 tion of insolvency. The gentleman, or he who passed himself <>f! f. >r one, 
 was easily recognisable, even at a distance, from the trader or mechanic Not 
 so in these revolutionary and levelling da)'s. A lord and a liuen-d'aper, a 
 baronet or a beer-shop keeper, when eith. r of the latter are out, call far. more 
 than mortal discrimination, in most cases, to distinguish the one from fue 
 other. We are not deprecating this change— we are merely noting it as a 
 social revolution, by which those who may he termed the industrious portion 
 of the middle classes, our traders and manufacturers, tread so closely on the 
 heels of our gentry, and in some instances of even our nobility, as to have 
 broken down all barriers of exclusiveness in places of public resort. 
 
 Turpin and his friend had several times taken their round of the lamp-lit 
 avenues and shaded walks of this gay and crowded scene ; King ocdksiurialLy 
 exchanging the smile and nod of courteous recognition with some of his uu- 
 merous acquaintances , and had now seated themselves in an arbour near to 
 the orchestra. They did not notice a small group at a litt'e distance, con- 
 sisting of a military" gentleman and two ladies, who were looking at them with 
 fixed attention. 
 
 "The one seated on the left, I know by sight," said the officer, in reply to 
 some observations of the more matronly lady, who, however, was still in the 
 bloom of youthful beauty; " he is Tom King, a gentleman of respe. table family 
 and independent fortune, T have heard, though I mitst say of dissipated habits, 
 and not the character I should exactly wish to introduce to my family circle." 
 
 "You mistake me, Albert," said the lady; "it is the other gentleman I 
 mean : if it be not he, the likeness is so extraordinary, that — " 
 
 The younger and fairer of the females was so greatly affected, a'id trembled 
 so violently that, had it not been for the support of the gentleman whJ escorted 
 her, she would have fallen. Rallying herself a little, she exclaimed, in a 
 voice choked by emotion, and turning eagerly towards her female companion, 
 " It is he — indeed !'' The trio stood as if in doubt ; the officer seemed to 
 hesitate as to the propriety of addressing our hero and his friend; but at this 
 moment they caught the eye of King. 
 
 "Dick," said he, "do you see yon officer with the two ladies? Egad, it's 
 Sir Albert Denistoun ! what the deuce can make them take such a particular 
 fancy to you? You don't know him, do you?" 
 
 Turpin turned his eyes in the direction indicated by the nod of his compa- 
 nion; and who shall attempt to express his feelings when, at a little distance, 
 regarding them with looks of interest, he observed a military man, to whose 
 features he was a total stranger, supporting on the one arm Madeline Weston, 
 and on the other his only, his early love, Esther Bevis ! The strong man 
 felt as a child: he rose suddenly and unconsciously, and gazed fixedly at the 
 little party. 
 
 " By the lord Harry!" exclaimed King; "you look I don't k'.ow how; if 
 you were a woman I'd call for water.'' 
 
 " Shall we accost them, Esther?" asked Madeline, who seemed a ic agitated 
 but Esther replied not. 
 
92 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 ** I'm in your haiids, ladies," said Sir Albert, bowing; " though, if I may 
 humbly suggest, it would be more consonant with etiquette — nay, it would b« 
 only proper — that the first advance should be made by the gentleman." 
 
 Sir Albert'3 speech went for little ; the heart spurns the cold artificial con- 
 siderations of mere fashionable insincerity. 
 
 " / will speak to him, at least," said Esther in a suppressed voice, and with 
 an energy that she herself mistook for resolution. 
 
 Richard Palmer, for at that moment he was not Dick Turpin, stood trans- 
 fixed as the three slowly approached him. 
 
 " Egad," said King, rising and bowing ; " they're coming to speak to us." 
 
 Poor Esther ! she had resolved to converse with her lover — to call upon 
 him for explanation of his conduct, which her fond partiality hardly doubted 
 but he would give. She would tax hiin, but with gentleness, for his neglect ; 
 she would — in short, do and say a thousand things — such was her resolve s 
 but she had sadly overcalculated her nerve. The blood forsook her cheek as 
 they drew nearer, and again as suddenly returned, suffusing her fair neck and 
 lovely countenance with crimson. Maiden modesty ; the painful slanders she 
 had heard ; the perplexing position in which she now found him, mixing in 
 good society, and his undeniable air of fashion ; and lastly, the force of woman's 
 first and only true love, to which the praise or censure of the world is as dust 
 in the balance — bewildered, confounded, and unnerved her. 
 
 " Esther !" was the only word Palmer uttered. The tone of the voice 
 seemed to deprive her of speech : she turned towards Sir Albert, and grasped 
 his arm with both her hands, and the next instant sank into her lover's arms. 
 As he tenderly supported her, Sir Albert looked with an air of perplexity from 
 King to Turpin, as if to ask some solution of this, to him, mysterious conduct. 
 Madeline was the first to break the painful silence. 
 
 " Albert," said she, " this is Palmer — Richard Palmer, of whom you have 
 often heard me speak. It is not fitting that this scene should continue — we 
 are attracting attention ; Esther ! dearest Esther !" 
 
 But Esther heard not. Long and severely had "she suffered : strong as 
 woman's faith had been her belief in her lover's innocence ; and devoutly and 
 ardently had she desired, ere her heart could consent to condemn him, that an 
 opportunity should arise for his exculpation. She doubted not — what doubt 
 can love feel ? — that he was calumniated ; and now she saw him, among the 
 elite of fashion, mingled in the concourse of the gay and the wealth^conviction 
 flashed on her mind that she had been bitterly and cruelly deceived by those 
 whom she thought most entitled to her confidence. Her first impulse was to 
 have receired him coolly — to have listened to what she doubted not to hear, his 
 triumphant vindication of his character ; and with this intent she had expressed 
 her wish to Sir Albert Denistoun that they should approach and speak to him. 
 But she had overcalculated her self-possession ; and the sound of the voice, 
 whose very tone she had so long treasured in her memory, brought with it 
 torrents of rushing remembrances, which overwhelmed her fancied resolution. 
 
 The party retired ; Palmer, for so we must now call him, leading gently 
 the agitated Esther to one of the arbours. King held Sir Albert in converse, 
 while Palmer endeavoured with all the soothing tenderness of a lover to reassure 
 and compose the agitated maiden. King, meanwhile, with the readiness and 
 self-possession for which he was remarkable, imposed upon Sir Albert with a 
 plausible tale of his young friend having lately acquired a small competency 
 through a distant relation. As Esther recovered, the conversation grew more 
 
DICK TURPIN. 93 
 
 animated ; and, at Sir Albert's pressing request, King and his friend promised 
 to dine at his table the ensuing day. They parted ; and the single-hearted 
 maiden retired to her pillow with a happy heart, and her bright shadows were 
 chequered with visions of future happiness too bright for realisation in this 
 world of stern realities. 
 
 As for the two friends, they walked silently towards their home. Even 
 King's loquaciousness seemed checked by the scene he had just witnessed ; he 
 intruded not on his friend s thoughts, but waited for him to break the silence. 
 At length Palmer said — 
 
 " You may suppose me weak, Tom — perhaps you'll laugh at me, but (and 
 he paused hasitatingly) no, I'll not say it — I'll quit the course of life I am 
 now pursuing, and endeavour, by honest industry, and a legitimate exertion 
 of the talents with which God has blessed me, to render myself, as far as I 
 can, worthy of her hand and heart. J cannot bear to deceive that fair creatine. 
 I'll not go to Sir Albert's to-morrow, for it is not fit that we should meet 
 
 again." 
 
 " Dick," replied his companion, " you are not just now in a frame of mind 
 to argue with, or I could soon show you the dilemma in which such conduct 
 would place us both. Do you not know that I have represented you as pos- 
 sessed of property ; that I have deceived Sir Albert with a tale of your having 
 acquired wealth, at least a moderate competency, and such & resolve as that 
 you have just hinted at would ruin us both." Palmer relapsed into his former 
 silence for awhile ; and then, after questioning King as to the nature of hia 
 representation, said — 
 
 " For myself, Tom, I would not care at once giving the lie to any deceit 
 that might impose on the girl I love; I would not heed exposure, nor balance 
 for an instant the sacrifice of myself to save her from a moment's pain; 
 but I fear that in this affair I shall be compelled to make shipwreck of my 
 dearest hopes : yet, though I tear my heartstrings in the effort, I will perse- 
 vere : — no, no; I cannot consent to deceive her.'' 
 
 King appeared nettled at this declaration. " Then when I wait on Sir 
 Albert to-morrow ; when I meet the fair Esther looking for the appearance 
 of her plighted lover; I must say that he has determined never again to see 
 her? Or, Dick, my good fellow," said he, assuming a tone of raillery, " shall 
 I say you've forgot the appointment I saw you seal ; and perhaps will call on 
 her to-mori^w or next day, if nothing very urgent should intervene to prevent 
 you V 
 
 ** For God's sake, as you value my friendship, say no more," replied he ; 
 "I'll go. Oh Esther, Esther, how have I debased myself! I am surely the 
 sport of fate ; but the worst that destiny can do shall never lead me to wrong 
 thy purity and innocence." 
 
 " Romantically said; we shall see though," said King. " Why, Lord bless 
 you, you do not know what women are ; they love men the better for a spice 
 of the devil in their composition. Constancy, virtue, purity! ha! ha! green 
 boarding-school misses, and sighing boys, who have hardly left off eating bread 
 and butter, talk love after that milk-and-water fashion ; but men of the 
 world — " 
 
 " Tom, you are my friend," interrupted Turpin ; t: may I beg that you'll not 
 recur to what has passed this night ? I'll go to morrow and see her — let that 
 «uffic« you." 
 
 "Ay, ay, I knew you would; and you'll go and see her again. Tut, tut, 
 
94 DTCK TURPIN. 
 
 don't look displeased man ; but, mind, you'll sacrifice me as well as yourself if 
 you are not discreet. Talk to your damsel as you please, but pray leave me 
 to manage the thing- with Sir Albert." 
 
 "Pursue the subject no further, I again request you," said Dick; ' I'll 
 not betray you, at any rate. Good night." 
 
 " Villain that I am ! " exclaimed Turpin as he seated himself in his chamber ; 
 "yet how can I extricate myself from the difficulty in which I am placed. I 
 must dissemble, yet I'll not betray her — no!" and with this resolution he threw 
 himself on his be 1, but not to sleep. 
 
 Wearily and distractedly did he toss throughout the night; anxiously did 
 he speculate on the future ; and vainly, as every other mortal must, did he 
 strive to raise or ren 1 the impenetrable veil with which a merciful Providence 
 has concealed the portal of futurity. Wearied, baffled with conjecture, 
 now harassed with hope and fear, now cheered with hope and anticipation, 
 the hours of darkness stole on ; day dawned, and with it, through the ivory 
 gate, fled his morning dreams, and he awoke to the realities nf this working- 
 day world. 
 
 At an early hour King tapped at his door, and seemed somewhat surprised 
 at finding him already dressed. 
 
 "Dick, my lad," said he, gaily, " how's this 1 I thought to have seen yon 
 brisk as a bridegroom at the taouglrt of meeting her of whom I've often heard 
 you express a wish merely to see or hear of; and now, demme, but you look 
 like a fellow who has prayed and waited for the death of a rich old relation, 
 and then finds himself cut out of the will. Cheer up, my boy, you must succeed, 
 with a woman's heart in your favour, and such a friend as I to back von. 
 Yot're not offended at me, I hope ; egad, you're as down as a bucket in a 
 deep well; can I serve you, — eh? if so command me." 
 
 " I'm obliged to you for your good wishes, Tom," replied Turpin, "but 
 you would but smile at my feelings if I explained them. That girl, Tom, 
 is too good, too unsuspecting, too pure, to be sacrificed to such as I have be- 
 come. It is the thought of the deceit I am practising on one who is guileless ; 
 one who, I grieve to say, has placed her affections, for that I sincerely believe, 
 on so worthless a character ; that makes me despise myself ; however — " 
 
 " Excuse me, friend Dick," rejoined King, "but I can't exactly see the cause 
 of all this self-contempt; methinks such a likely young fellow is a fit suitor 
 for any she that ever walked — ay, and an undoubtedly successful one to boot — if 
 he only have the necessary courage — faint heart never won — eh, friend Dick ?" 
 
 " I would willingly break off this affair at once," said our hero, " but I 
 confess I do not see how, without exposing both of us to Sir Albert : I 
 shall therefore put the best face I can on the matter, and trust to time 
 and chance for the rest." 
 
 " Brave ! '' cried King; "and time and chance will repay you for the credit 
 you give them, or I'm no conjuror. Leave it to them, my boy, and Esther 
 will be yours. What! don't that please you either ? Damme Dick, but I 
 shall begin to think you're something out of the ordinary run of men. Here's 
 a pretty woman loves you to distraction ; an introduction to good company 
 presents itself, which hundreds might seek in vain, and the perspective of a 
 handsome wife, with, I dare say, a snug jointure ; and you treat this slice of 
 luck as if your best friend were bankrupt, or your mistress brought to lied of 
 twins — foregad, it's the most extraordinary way of taking such good fortune 
 f «ver met with." 
 
DTCK TURPIN. 95 
 
 "I shall go with you ; let that suffice," said Turpin, to whom the conver- 
 sation was evidently unpleasant. 
 
 They went at the appointed hour. The dinner passed off smoothly enough. 
 Our hero, however, who was seated next to Esther, was embarrassed ; while 
 King enlivened the company by his mirthful sallies. Dick, though not sharing 
 in the conversation, was frequently provcked into a smile, and Esther, before 
 half an hour had passed, warmed into good spirits, nay even into hilarity. 
 The ladies retired, and Dick, feeling himself called on, by courtesy to his 
 host to exert himself, brightened up. He thought he had never seen King to 
 such advantage as on this occasion, and Sir Albert was so delighted with his 
 company, that before they retired to the drawing-room to join the ladies, he 
 had exacted a half-promise from our fiiend Tom that he would favour him 
 with his company during his stay in London, whenever oilier engagements 
 should permit him. As the evening drew on, Richard and Esther, whom the 
 host and hostess considerately allowed to be as much together as etiquette 
 would permit, fell into agreeable converse. He had never beheld her so lovely; 
 the four years which had flown, since last they parted with mutual vows of 
 unchangeable fidelity, had improved her form, her intellect, and if possible, 
 her heart — at least it had given that steadiness, and constancy to her 
 feelings, which, though he never could seriously doubt them, made the 
 assurance of her affection doubly sure. Ten times was he on the point of 
 entering upon some explanation of his present position ; not that he was 
 about to tell her the real truth as to his pursuits ; he could not think of so 
 shocking and alarming her. Should he make a mysterious declaration of the 
 impropriety, under present circumstances, of their meeting again ? No ! to 
 what injurious and painful surmises might it not give rise ; he could not 
 bear the thought of living despised in her estimation, whose good opinion he 
 valued beyond that of all the world. Should he explicitly declare the cause, 
 it would be still worse. He looked on her fair face beaming with smiles ; 
 cou^d lie cloud it with woe ? Heaven forbid ! His resolution wavered, grew 
 weaker at each moment, and at last resolved itself, as resolutions under such 
 temptations are wont to do, into thin air. He became animated, and they 
 separated with promises not less truly than ardently interchanged, to meet 
 again the following day. 
 
 Three weeks passed thus ; and Sir Albert, with his lady, talked of leaving 
 London for his country seat. This was communicated to Palmer, for so we 
 must call him in this society. Esther and her lover sat in the recess of a 
 deep window, looking on the setting sun. Sunset is assuredly the most dan- 
 gerous time for lovers' tete-a-tetes. The calm softness of the hour disposes 
 the soul to tenderness; at least, Byron, who may be considered some authority 
 in these matters, has sung of sunset as "the hour of love," to say nothing of 
 some score of minor poets, who seem to have entertained a similar opinion. 
 
 The mild and subdued light streaming through the small compartments of 
 the deep-sunk diamond-paned casement, shod a mellow light on the fair 
 countenance, and glancing on the golden hair of the maiden, seemed to re- 
 ceive more brilliancy than it gave. Palmer looked fondly upon her ; the 
 world and the world's crimes and woes vanished from his recollection as he 
 contemplated her pensive look, for at that moment her face was somewhat 
 
 "Sicklied o'er with the palecast of thought." 
 
 Man is a selfish creature ; at least his actions are sadly so, when the gratifi- 
 
96 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 cation o ( his passions is in question. Palmer forgot, as his friend had 
 prophesied, all his fine speeches about self-denial, with whatever si. cerity they 
 might have been uttered, and thought of nothing but the possession of so fair 
 
 a bride. . 
 
 "Esther! " said he, tenderly. Esther started, and a smile spread over her 
 face, as if at the dreams in which she had been indulging. " Esther — will 
 you be mine?" She withdrew not the small hand which reposed in his, but 
 slightly averted her head. The crimson flush which suffused her neck tempted 
 Palmer to a salute. " Answer me, Esther: for God's sake do not keep me 
 
 in suspense !" 
 
 " Richard," replied the maiden in a tone of serious yet tender remonstrance, 
 44 have I not, years since, plighted my troth ? Why do you ask it again of 
 me ? Have I ever given you cause to doubt me ? " 
 
 44 No ! by heaven ! But Esther, dearest Esther, are we again to separate? 
 Will you again leave me? When you are gone, Esther, consider — " 
 
 " I've said it," replied she, turning towards him with firmness in her voice. 
 " I'm your's — your's for ever ! " 
 
 An embrace sealed the compact. Sir Albert was informed of the intended 
 marriage, and both he and his lady Denistoun were loud in their congratu- 
 lations. The day was fixed ; Palmer alone of all the circle did not enjoy the 
 prospect of approaching happiness — dark clouds hung over the future. So 
 true is it that unalloyed joy can be felt only by the innocent ; hence the pro- 
 verbial happiness of 
 
 •< dUldhood's careless hours, 
 
 When every month is May; 
 
 When we wreathe the choice of Summer's flowers, 
 
 Nor deem they can decay." 
 
 How contrasted were now his feelings ! Crime had not then written foul 
 defeature on his soul As he thought over the bold adventure and reckless 
 enterprise of the last four years, their events seemed to him as a dream. Was 
 he indeed, then, the desperate villain at whose name men trembled, though 
 even his person was unknown to them? Was such as he a fit bridegroom for 
 the innocent and the single-hearted Esther Bevis ? Could he hope to throw off 
 the associates with whom he was entangled, and to whom he was pledged? 
 Was there anv ray of hope, should he even do so, that exposure would not 
 inevitably follow ? His conscience answered, No ! 
 
 " Beset, surrounded as I am," exclaimed he, " by adverse fate, I foresee 
 the doom of misery to which I am dragging her ; yet how to avoid it I know 
 not. I paltered with crime, took the first plunge, and now 'tis hopeless to 
 stem the current of my fate ! I am fortune's child, and must submit to her 
 caprice! '' 
 
 With such plausible extenuations, are men, whose evil propensities and want 
 of moral courage have drawn them into straits, which principle and firmness 
 might have avoided, wont to "sugar o'er the devil himself." Turpin had 
 none to blame ; and therefore he talked of fate, destiny, fortune, and so 
 forth, when a small exertion would, at the outset of his career, have saved 
 him from the dilemma in which he now found himself. It has been said, 
 when balancing between virtue and dishonour, 
 
 " The woman who once hesitates is lost ; " 
 
 and equally true is it that when man once deliberates on the expediency 
 of committing a crime, his guardian virtue leaves him. 
 
DiCK irinMN. 
 
 97 
 
 The Marriage of Esther and Turpin. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Yes — twine the myrtle round her broiv, 
 
 And braid her golden hair; 
 And o'er the flowery garland throw 
 The veil whose hue may mate thesnow, 
 And bid its soft and graeoful fiow 
 
 Half screen the peerless fair. 
 
 Now strong in beauty's conquering might, 
 
 Koiie kindling: in Iter eye; 
 She shows to the enraptured sight, 
 Like an ethereal forni of lisrht, 
 A brine far too pure and bnght 
 
 Tor mortal destiny. 
 
 Anon 
 
 Oh, well it is youth may not see, 
 'Mid the fair visions round it Hung, 
 
 The shadOwintTS of its destiny; 
 
 — Or whos.1 the b ow Ilia) would not bear 
 The wrinl.lin.,' stamp of joy's decay ; 
 
 And the bright cheek of gladness where, 
 Whose bloom would fade not soon away? 
 
 Acton. 
 
 "Time aii<l tide,!' saith the proverb, " wait for no man;" and the winded 
 feet of the hearer of the scythe and hourglass brought rapidly the day for the 
 celebration of the nuptials 
 No. 13. 
 
98 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Despite the presentiment of coming evil, our hero became gay as the t''me 
 drew nio-h. We have before said that his temperament was sanguine and full 
 of hope ; and so easily do we believe what we wish, that he had almost per- 
 suaded himself that the fortune which had thus far befriended him, would not 
 reverse her fickleness, but remain constant to one to whom she had shown 
 such extraordinary favour. As for Esther, though maiden modesty might 
 cause a fluttering at her heart, it was a throb of anticipative pleasure ; she 
 was too loving, too confiding, too hopeful, too guileless, too happy, too single- 
 minded, to doubt, much less to fear, the future. Of his affection she was sure 
 and safe; then, what misgiving could she feel? In a word, she was happy; 
 and happiness unalloyed is a treasure which kings may covet, but cannot 
 purchase. 
 
 The day first fixed for the marriage was, however, delayed. Esther, having 
 informed her father of her unexpected meeting with Palmer, and the circum- 
 stances in which she now found him — after dwelling on his unchanged affec- 
 tion, and her reciprocal feeling towards him — claimed from her parent the 
 fulfilment of his conditional promise passed long since. Her joy was height- 
 ened by the receipt of an answer in which old Bevis announced his intention 
 of being present at the ceremony, and of giving away his daughter in person. 
 A more distant day was accordingly named, and her venerable parent duly 
 arrived on the day before that originally fixed. 
 
 There is, however, "many a slip between the cup and the lip;" and the 
 fatigue of the journey so completely laid up the old gentleman that he was 
 unable to proceed to church with the wedding party, as he had intended. 
 Both Palmer and Esther proposed a further delav of a day or two ; but of 
 this the kind-hearted old man would not hear. The marriage was like most 
 other marriages; the bridegroom looked very simple, very loving, and very 
 silly, as most men do upon the like occasion; the bride, as far as her bash- 
 fulness and embarrassment would allow her to observe him, thought, however, 
 (if she could think at all) that he looked marvellously interesting. Tom King 
 was all smiles, good humour, and joke ; while Madeline and her husband, 
 as became staid married people of a twelvemonth's stand. ng, looked on with 
 most edifying seriousness. 
 
 Our hero took his bride, at the earnest invitation of old Bevis, tn spend 
 the honeymoon at his house, until a small cottage in B'oomsbury, which he 
 had taken, should be furnished and prepared for the home of his wedded wife. 
 Thus far, 
 
 "All went merry as a marriage bell." 
 
 Esther was too happy to notice, for the first few days, the occasional pang 
 which shot across her husband's face, as he fondly gazed at her. Indeed, he 
 for a time succeeded in concealing from her his uneasiness, by the most 
 endearing assiduities and fond attentions which a sincere affection could 
 dictate. The honeymoon passed, but saw no abatement of their affection, and 
 the couple removed to town, to occupy their new abode. 
 
 Sir Albert and Madeline, or, as we ought to call her, Lady Denistoun, had 
 now left London for their seat in the north ; and almost the only visitor of 
 the new-married pair was their friend, Tom King. From him, Turpin had, 
 of course, no secrets ; and often did they confer on the subject uppermost iu 
 his mind, the course it would be advisable for him in future to pursue Nei- 
 ther of them possessed any knowledge of business, and it may therefore be 
 
 »* 
 
 \ 
 
DICK TuKPIW. 99 
 
 •apposed these conversations were anything' but satisfactory ; indeed, they 
 usually ended, like the history of the Prince of Abyssinia, in " a conclusion 
 wherein nothing is concluded." 
 
 "What say you," enquired King, after one of these undecisive collo- 
 quys "to a stroll to White's? There's good company there. Our little 
 confab has quite given me the blues ; besides,, I can't help suspecting that 
 you're running low ; don't try to conceal it if the case is as I suppose, for you 
 know where you can draw so long as there's a stiver in the exchequer. 1 ' 
 
 Dick looked at him thankfully; he knew the sincerity with which the offer 
 was made, and acknowledged it warmly. They were still conversing, when 
 the girl whom he had engaged to attend Esther, and assist in the household 
 duties, made her appearance with a letter, which she stated had been left by 
 a woman, who said it required no answer. Turpin broke the seal, and read 
 as follows. 
 
 "Dear Dick, 
 
 I've been seeking you everywhere, but the deuce a bit of find could 
 I make of it. At last I met Madge Dutton, who let me into the secret of 
 your getting married. I've something worth your notice, if you'll drop on 
 me at Bob Berry's, in George Yard, at ten this evening. 
 
 Yours, and no mistake, 
 
 George Fielder. 
 
 "There," said Dick, tossing the letter to King "I'll go ; for to tell you 
 truth, I've not a guinea of my Lord Coventry's left ; much less can I say of 
 a few shiners I had intended for the comfort of my fireside. I'm a dreaming 
 idiot, Tom, or I should not have put myself in the cleft stick in which I 
 am now fast." 
 
 King smiled. "Thumbscrew me, but I never knew the married man who 
 didn't repent the deed, as soon as he had time to come to cool consideration. 
 ' Marry in haste, repent at leisure ' is as old as our grandmothers, and not 
 the least true of their sayings ; but if you are going to Berry's, I'll accom- 
 pany you. What say you?" 
 
 Our hero assented ; and as darkness approached, the twain set out, arm in 
 arm, for the appointed place. 
 
 They threaded their way by the wretched twinkle of the oil lamps, which 
 here and there, 
 
 "Like angels' visits, few, and far between," 
 
 glimmered at the court yard gates, or before the front gardens of the detached 
 mansions of Bloomsbury. The night was dark, and, besides a cold damp fog, 
 a fine, drizzling rain, rendered the road slippery, and clogged the shoe at 
 every step. They crossed Oldbourne, towards Monmouth Street, then, as 
 now, the favourite locale of vendors of cast-off garments, and took their way, 
 little molested by the sons of Israel, for the night was an unpromising one for 
 "cushtomers," towards Soho, at that time a wilderness of tenements in course of 
 erection. They were threading their path through heaps of mortar, and 
 picking their steps over boards and puddles, when, at the corner of an unfin- 
 ished street, they passed a man closely muffled in a horseman's coat. He stood 
 aside to allow them to pass : they had left him some dozen paces, when ha 
 hastily followed thera, and saluted them by name. 
 
100 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 **lMeKon,ftiiy trtfinp?' said he, addressing Turpin; "I've been asking two 
 or three of our friends after your health. How goes it?" 
 
 Turpin held out his hand as he recognized the voice of Fielder. 
 
 "I got your note," said he. "I and Tom wore just oft' to the place of 
 meeting/' 
 
 "Whose note ? " asked Fielder. "I was told by Dennis, that you were 
 married; and if I hadn't feared intruding where I might not have been wel- 
 come, you'd have seen me at your snuggery long before this." 
 
 Turpin looked at King with surprise. 
 
 "Then am I to understand you sent no message to me to-day?" enquired 
 he. 
 
 "Not a bit of it," replied the hluiit straightforward Fie'der; "I'm not 
 given to writing letters where I can do my business in person." 
 
 *' Egad, that's droll," said King : " let's step into the Marlborough here, 
 close at hand. You've the letter, Dick." 
 
 The three stepped into the tavern, and over a glass discussed the probable 
 motive of the writer — Fielder at once repudiating its authenticity. The hand 
 was unknown to all parties 
 
 " There's mischief meant here," said Fielder ; " though from what quarter 
 it's to come I can't even make a guess: you'll not go, Dick?" 
 
 "Not at the appointed time, certainly," replied Turpin: "if there be 
 traitors in our camp, though — and this looks like it — it is better they should 
 be at once found out. I'll disguise myself, and watch the neighbourhood." 
 
 " Let's all three keep together," suggested Fielder. 
 
 King assented, and they left the tavern : it was now near the hour of ten. 
 Dick having furnished himself with a cap, and a supplementary beard and 
 bush whiskers, and his companions having also effected considerable alterations 
 in their outward appearance, they again set forward. 
 
 A dense October fog was spreading its volumes of mist over the clumps of 
 irregular buildings which f jrmed the thoroughfare to Charing Cross ; and, 
 although the hour was yet early, few persons were abroad — not only owing to 
 the disagreeableness of the night, than the danger of the spot to the foot- 
 traveller. Arrived at Charing Cross, they entered upon the dirty and ruinous 
 conglomeration of houses forming the heart of Westminster. The street 
 by which thev took their way, was lined on either side by wooden sheds, 
 •which jutted out with great irregularity, and but little regard to the sanctity 
 of the highway, which in many places was inconveniently narrowed by these 
 encroachments : intermixed with these were wooden houses, with their quaint 
 gables and grotesque carvings — varying in size, height, and ornament, ac- 
 cording to the taste, caprice, or wealth of their occupiers. A stack of bare 
 wooden boards, black with age, and mouldering with the rot, stood beside the 
 rudely-carved and newlv-painted front of the wealthier tradesman, or private 
 person, and in these small sashed windows occasionally took the place of the 
 leaden casements which distingirshed the poorer tenements — while here and 
 there a stone-building, of some pretension and antiquity, might be seen ; but 
 in every instance the buildings were constructed without that respect to public 
 convenience which, in modern times, has been secured by law. Yet, miserable 
 as was the aspect of this locality by day — still, when viewed by night, with a 
 clear skv, and the moonlight streaming upon it, the sharp outlines of the 
 roofs, standing forth in the clear expanse, every angle and peculiarity brought 
 out in strong relief, and the broad masses of gloom below, produced by the 
 
DICK TURPI N. 101 
 
 various projections of the houses, gables, and sheds, it presented — bold 
 combinations of lights and shadows, and a picturesque efiect which we seek 
 in vain amid the straight formal lines, and uniform brick piles, which have 
 ousted the habitations of our ancestors. Such was the road pursued by them. 
 They had now arrived in the neighbourhood of the spot, and stopped to hold 
 a consultation as to the best plan to acquaint themselves with the design of 
 their enemies — for that mischief was meant they had now no doubt. The 
 drizzling rain still fell — the streets were almost deserted; and the watch, 
 generally scanty and always idle, were nowhere to be seen : the damp fog 
 hung overhead, or nestled in the corners of the streets, and save the candles 
 which glimmered through window and lattice, or the red smoking lamp which 
 marked the situation of some tavern — the night, as we have before said, was 
 dark. The distant lamp, viewed through the misty medium, seemed like some 
 beacon flickering in the far horizon ; and the towers of Westminster Abbey, 
 indistinctly seen through the shifting vapour, loomed gigantic and undefined 
 in the distance. 
 
 " A pleasant night this, 'pon my soul," sai 1 Tom ; " what say you to my 
 ^oitig and reconnoitring Nan's premises? I've a guess that, as it isn't me 
 that's invited, that might be the safer course." 
 
 They were standing beneath the projecting shelter of a roof, which cast a 
 deep shadow, when they became aware of the approach of footsteps ; the party 
 advanced in silence, or at least, their whisperings were too low to enable 
 the friends to distinguish the purport of the dialogue. 
 " Stand close," said Fielder as they approached. 
 
 Foremost of the party came Bayes and another officer, accompanied by Madge ; 
 and behind them not less than half a dozen of runners all well armed : they 
 halted within a few paces of the spot where Turpin and his friends stood 
 concealed. Fielder pressed Dick's wrist significantly ; and they listened with 
 breathless attention to the following dialogue. 
 
 " I've been a seeking for you on this lay, Mister Bayes, for a long time. 
 I see'd his fine madam up yonder this very day. He's sure to come, for I've 
 planted it on him as George wants to give him the office, for a put up ; and 
 I dessay he's at the trap afore now. You've no need, as I told you last time, 
 to let me be seen in it : that brought you a pretty good lump of the rowdy,* 
 but this 'ull be a better take. Mind you, Nan especially must be kept dark 
 as to me nosing + on her crib." 
 
 Mr. Bayes promised secresy ; and Madge, bidding the party good night, 
 returned by the road they had come : while the officer and his myrmidons, 
 having darkened their lanterns, went up a narrow alley, the rear of which 
 communicated with the yard of Nan Turner's abode. 
 
 " Split me !" exclaimed King, as soon as the party were out of hearing, " if 
 you're not a lucky dog, Dick. A very prettily contrived trap, upon my soul ! 
 By the bye, what might be the cause of the great interest that very communi- 
 cative damsel, who is going to do it better this time than the last, seems to 
 take in your welfare — eh, Dick ?" 
 
 " I don't know whether to* believe my eyes and ears," interrupted Fielder ; 
 " why, that's Madge Dutton. It's clear now, how that unlucky Plumstead 
 job came ofi"; d — n me, but I could find it in my hearf to follow this jezebel, 
 ml knock her on the head." 
 
 * Money. t Informing. 
 
JQ2 t.KC'K TURPI N. 
 
 " Hark ! they are at it," exclaimed Turpin. 
 
 The crash of a window was succeeded by a shrill female scream, and the 
 clashing of swords, intermingled with oaths and execrations, was plainly 
 audible. The report of a pistol was followed by a rattling of glass, and a 
 man rushed hastily down the narrow entry by which the officers had entered, 
 pursued by two or three of the thieftakers. They were too close on his heels 
 to allow him a chance for escape : he turned upon them, but the unequal 
 combat must soon have ended in his death or capture, when King, who 
 stood nearest to the contending parties, stepped behind the officer who 
 pressed hardest on the man, passed his sword suddenly through the muscular 
 part of his arm, and as suddenly withdrew it. His limb fell powerless by 
 his side. 
 
 The wounded man dropped his weapon, and grasping the disabled arm 
 with the other hand, let fly a volley of curses on the clumsiness of his 
 nearest comrade, to whom he attributed his wound. He, feeling himself 
 innocent of the charge, dropped his point, and leaving the remaining man 
 to press the fugitive, walked up to his wounded companion, and with some 
 asperity, enquired the meaning of the charge. The altercation, however, 
 was cut short, for Turpin, recognising in the man now exchanging cut and 
 thrust with the remaining officer, his old acquaintance Bill Rose, despite 
 a warning check from King, rushed from his ambush, and confronting the 
 officer, drove him up the narrow entry from which he had emerged, at the 
 same time bidding Rose to fly. He did not need twice telling, for seeing 
 King and Fielder, who now came forward, he at once darted down a dark 
 alley, and in a few seconds they lost the sound of his retreating footsteps, 
 It seemed, nevertheless, likely to go hard with our hero, for scarcely had Rose 
 made a clean run of it, when the officers, perceiving the assistance which had 
 so opportunely arrived, retreated, shouting aloud "a rescue! a rescue!'' and 
 the cry was instantly followed by the approach of hasty footsteps. The parties. 
 by mutual consent, appeared to have drawn off; but this prospect of a rein- 
 forcement induced the thieftakers to make one desperate push to disable or 
 take one or other of the party. Turpin was a little before King and Fielder, 
 and him they singled out for their rush. 
 
 " Stand to me," whispered one of the fellows ; " strike the taller one on 
 the leg, while I hold him in play.'' 
 
 The man assented with a nod, and the superior officer, who was our old 
 friend Pearce, flourishing his cutlass, advanced on Turping, exclaiming, 
 
 " Surrender in the King's name ! " 
 
 Dick retreated a pace or two, and the officer, mistaking his forbearance for 
 cowardice, pressed upon him. 
 
 " You're rushing on danger," said Dick, coolly, as he parried one or two of 
 the ill-judged cuts of Pearce. " I shall prick you if you come closer." 
 
 Two other officers now came up, whom King and Fielder assaulted, but tney, 
 after exchanging a few thrusts, fairly turned their backs and fled. At this 
 moment, Turpin was surprized with a blow on the wrist, given by the other 
 fellow, who had, unperceived by him, passed unde#the shadow of the buildings, 
 and come behind him. The sword dropped from Dick's grasp, and the officer 
 sprung upon him. He had, however, reckoned without his host ; for Dick, 
 wounded as he was, catching him by the wrist of his sword arm, at one twist 
 threw the weapon from his grasp, and seizing his throat, flung him prostrate 
 in the muddy roadway. The other fellow now rushed upon Turpin, but just 
 
DICK TURPIN. 108 
 
 a?*tney had closed, Fielder and King returned to the spot. The former, with- 
 out a moment's hesitation, lent the runner a blow under the ear which laid 
 him senseless. 
 
 These occurrences took much less time in acting than describing. Tom 
 Pearce was, however, a man of judgment ; and observing from the rut, where 
 he softly lav, the mischance of his comrade, he at once saw that in the 
 present case the better part of valour would be discretion ; he therefore 
 prudently held his peace, and lay apparently stunned, waiting till further 
 assistance might make it advisable to recover from his stupor. 
 
 "Warm work," said King, "and awkward fighting, this night skirmishing. 
 Damme, but I think we've cleared the coast of them. Hadn't we better be 
 off though? They take us .for rake-helly bloods or Mohocks, I know, by 
 the exclamations of those two cowardly rascals that I and George have 
 made skip off so nimbly just now. I wonder where Bill Rose has bolted 
 to, and who they've nabbed at Nan's. But come, it won't do to enquire 
 about here ; so let's drop into the nearest tavern, and talk over our adventure. 
 
 " I'm wounded," said Dick, as they walked rapidly from the spot, taking 
 one or two of the circuitous turnings in the neighbourhood of the Almonry. 
 " That scoundrel, you so opportunely floored, George, has given me an ugly 
 cut on the arm.'' 
 
 " The more reason we should adjourn to the tavern,'' said King ; " I hope 
 it's nothing serious; my old pal, Ned Fitzpatrick, lives hard by, and there we 
 can procure a private room, and the necessary attendance.'' 
 
 To Fitzpatrick's they accordingly proceeded. A surgeon was sent for, and 
 the cut in Turpin's arm, which was a severe flesh wound, having been dressed, 
 the partv, after enjoying a bottle, proceeded to learn the news in the common 
 room. Here the principal topic was the betrayal of a gang of highwaymen, 
 by one of their accomplices, and the capture of the principal man ; among 
 whom the names of Turpin, and several others were confidently enumerated. 
 Not a word, however, seemed to have transpired of either a rescue or an 
 escape. Indeed, though it was stated by those who professed to know best, 
 that in the desperate resistance made to the officers, two or three of the latter 
 had been severely wounded, the thieftakers had too much judgment to report 
 their own partial failure. The men taken consisted of Bob Berry, the cork- 
 cutter, who was desperately wounded in the encounter, and three of his asso- 
 ciates — Rose escaping, as we have seen. Berry and two others suffered in 
 1731 at Tyburn*, while Nan Turner, notwithstanding the promise given to 
 Madge by Mr. Bayes, was sentenced to a long imprisonment. 
 
 We must now request the reader to revert, in imagination, to Bloomsbury, 
 and the dwelling where the gentle Esther waited the arrival of her husband and 
 his friend. She had just completed a few of those little fireside arrangements, 
 in anticipation of his return, which, by their very delicacy and minuteness, 
 glad the heart of man — showing, as they do, even more unequivocally than 
 greater things, the affectionate remembrance which in absence prompts the 
 heart of the wife to forestall even the smallest of his wishes — when a loud 
 ring at the front gate lighted her fair face with smiles, and she hastened to 
 the entrance to welcome him to a warm heart and a warmer bosom. The 
 servant, however, returned alone across the small forecourt, as her mistress 
 listened, with a sigh of disappointment, for the wished-for step. 
 
 . • See ' Newgate Ca endar,' — Life of Turpin, p. 17. 
 
104 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 •A female, in a close hood and cloak, wishes to see Mrs. Palmer, ma'am," 
 said the maiden. 
 
 "Indeed!" said Esther; " 'tis late, and a strange night for a visit : bid her 
 enter." 
 
 Then seating herself in the little parlour, she gave way to some anxious 
 feelings — for true love is ever anxious — first for her husband, then for her 
 parent. 
 
 The visitor entered, but stood near the door, as if in doubt whether she 
 should seat herself, although requested to do so by .Esther. She appeared a 
 stout-made woman, rather above the middle size ; and the cloak that she wore, 
 from its flaunting colour — although exhibiting marks of ill-usage rather than 
 wear — was hardly such as a lady wouid have arrayed herself in at that season 
 of the year, and in such unfavourable weather. Esther waited awhile for her 
 visitor to begin ; she felt uneasy and alarmed at the strange and bold scrutiny 
 which her unknown guest bestowed upon her ; and in vain tried to recollect 
 her features. At length she broke the silence by enquiring to what she was 
 to attribute her visit. 
 
 The woman seemed to be lost in reverie, for instead of replying to 
 her question, she slowly muttered, as if communing with herself, — 
 
 "She's pretty, certainly pretty! — and more, she's innocent; yet she is 
 doomed to misery, where I could find happiness! Young woman, do you 
 know who and what your husband is? Do you know that he is not fit 
 to mate with such as you? By this time he is — if not slain — " 
 
 Esther, alarmed by the woman's manner, started from her seat, and uttering 
 a low cry, exclaimed, " If you know anything, my good woman, that has 
 happened to my dear husband, pray do not keep me in suspense, but show 
 me to him — show me where he is, do not trifle with my feelings — " 
 
 " I pity you," said she ; but the sternness of her voice contradicted her 
 assertion. " Your husband should have been mine, but he scorned a heart 
 whose love was as strong as yours ; despised and cast away a woman who 
 was suited for him ; spurned contemptuously the affection and the devoted 
 services of her who would have been faithful to him in good and in evil, in 
 danger and in prosperity, in life and in death ; and preferred your sacrifice to 
 the denial of his own appetites ; married you to deceive and destroy you — 
 (passion choked her utterance; after a hysteric sob she went on, while a 
 demoniac gleam of triumph flashed from her eyes). But that's all past; 
 and if von can still love, and wish to see the man who has betrayed you, 
 betake yourself to Newgate, and there, in the felons' cell, enquire for 
 
 RlCHAUD TURPIN THE HIGHWAYMAN!" 
 
 Esther stood petrified with horror and amazement. She gazed with absorbed 
 interest on the woman before her, as if clinging to some vague hope she would 
 contradict or recal the dreadful words she had spoken. The pause was dread- 
 ful. So bitter and intense was the expression of woe on her face that Madge, 
 for she it was, felt for a moment something like compunction ; the feeling was 
 but too transient, and she forgot it had ever existed in her bosom, when Esther, 
 with an energv and composure for which Madge was totally unprepared, 
 stepped towards her, and grasping her by the wrist, earnestly exclaimed,— 
 
 "Tell me, I conjure you, what has happened to my husband. You speak 
 as if knowing of same" fatal event which has befallen. I implore you to 
 lead me to him— my brain whirls so that I scarcely comprehend the mean- 
 ing of your dark and fearful speech. (Madge regarded her in silent amaze- 
 
DICK 1'IKPIN. 
 
 105 
 
 Esther commands Madge Dutton to leave her house. 
 
 merit..) Tel! me, 1 insist, (and she raised her voice imperatively) baa 
 anvt hi tip; fatal befallen inv husband, and I will forgive you for the pain vou 
 have inflicted " 
 
 The last part <>f this sounded so much like a command, that it at once reas- 
 sured her. She smiled with scornful indignation, and her lip curled with 
 bitter satisfaction, as she thought how beyond her blackest hopes the barbed 
 shaft of her woman's vengeance would rankle in the heart of the man who 
 had slighted her. The love of Esther was, indeed, what she might have 
 expected; but she was unprepared for a manifestation of it so much after 
 her own heart. She almost admired bet rival, as with beaming eye, flushed 
 cheek, and a look of dauntless enquiry, she gazed in expectation of her 
 answer. 
 
 "Silly girl ! " said she at length, (her voire trembling with the eloquence 
 of excited feeling) "You too are doomed — I see it, in your countenance. Is 
 it not enough that I, a base, abandoned thing — an outcast, should have fixed 
 my affections on a felon — have chosen from my associates a lawbreaker, 
 whose desperate career will close at the gallows' foot — but that such as 
 No. 14. 
 
10G DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Esther Bevis, the young, the innocent, the admired — sought by her equals in 
 station and in character — should be crushed, sullied, made miserable in life 
 and hurried to a melancholy death, ere time has stolen half the beauty from 
 her cheek, that a reckless highwayman may boast for a few short weeks or 
 months, a bride whose first and last tears will be those she sheds over his 
 unlamented death ? Can you — will you love the man, who has so cruelly 
 deceived you ; who will — I speak the words of sad experience — leave you the 
 gibe of a cold-hearted world; the mark of scornful observation ; one at whom 
 the finger will be pointed, and the gaze of curiosity be fixed, as the widow — 
 must I repeat it — of Turpin the highwayman? Do you understand 
 me now ? " 
 
 She felt the hand of Esther tremble as it rested on her arm. 
 
 ** See here," continued she, marking the effect af her speech, "here is a 
 purse — a braided purse, and here a ring. Know you these baubles?'' 
 
 Alas ! Esther knew them too well ; they had been early love-tokens between 
 her and Palmer ; and more than once since their ill-starred union had her 
 husband regretted their mysterious loss, during the period of their long sepa- 
 ration. Little did he think that Madge, having by chance appropriated them 
 at Plumstead, had first kept them from affection and afterwards from hate. 
 Esther paled as she looked on them ; a spasm seemed to crush her heart, and 
 she feared she knew not what. Madge, with bloodshot eye, and her fine face 
 distorted with a malignant sneer, continued — 
 
 " What you know them, do you ? These I will never part with ; they are 
 the only relics, the remembrances of a love in which he you now own as hus- 
 band swore as fervently, and vowed as sincerely, to her who now stands before 
 you, as the heartless seducer has done to induce your innocence and girlish 
 simplicity to ally itself with his hypocrisy and wickedness. If you desire to 
 save yourself — if you are not too firmly wedded to the will of the impostor 
 who has entangled and ensnared, and will destroy you, break off at once — " 
 
 " Woman !" exclaimed Esther, in a tone that checked and startled Madge ; 
 whose vehemence had increased with the supposed ascendancy she was acquiring 
 over her victim ; " Woman ! I know not how I have allowed myself to con- 
 verse so long with you on such a subject — anxiety for my husband can alone 
 excuse me : if you refuse to tell me the nature of the misfortune which has 
 overtaken him I shall owe you no thanks, but will seek him myself. Tempt 
 me no more with fiendish insinuations, I believe them not; depart this house, 
 Tiever again to enter it — and remember, that weak as you may think me, I 
 have a fortitude which shall bear me through with the vow I have sworn at 
 the altar to cleave unto him, who is my husband in the sight of God and man, 
 till death shall part us." 
 
 Madge stood petrified. Her experience of human nature, and of woman's 
 affection, had pictured it to her mind as selfish sensuality ; the gratification 
 of vanity ; the triumph of jealousy ; or the promptings of caprice. She knew 
 not the proud disinterestedness, the high feeling, the sustaining force, the 
 pure, the self-abjuring single-heartedness of wedded love. Madge looked silently 
 at Esther who deliberately and firmly stepped towards the bell ; which, having 
 rung, she seated herself and composing her features, with a firm voice desired 
 the servant to ** show the lady out." The whole proceeding so completely 
 took her by surprise, that she mechanically obeyed the curtseying maid, 
 who stood, with candle in hand, prepared to light her to the gate. 
 
 Slowly following her conductor, she was outside of the premises, and in the 
 
DICK TURP1N. 10r 
 
 darkened street, before she was well aware of it. She turned and reapproached 
 the small gate. Ungovernable fury possessed her. 
 
 " Fool, idiot, coward that I am, to allow the haughty insolence of that 
 green girl to daunt me! I'll return, and show her what it is to insult her 
 equal — ay, her mistress. Til — " 
 
 She stood for a few moments irresolute with her hand raised in the act to 
 knock, when, at a short distance, she heard the voices of some approaching 
 passengers ; for the patter of the rain from eave and casement prevented their 
 footsteps from being distinguished on the drift causeway. They were coming 
 towards the spot; she therefore postponed her purpose for the moment, and 
 stood under a small lime-tree, which overhung the low green paling. The 
 persons approached and knocked at the gate : they were three in number. 
 Her very eyes seemed 
 
 Made the fools of her other senses, 
 Or el»e were worth them all ; 
 
 for among them, (he had changed his disguise, for an obvious reason,) she 
 recognised the man whom she had in imagination securely lodged in the 
 dungeon of the Gatehouse — the object of her affectionate hatred — Dick 
 Titrpin ! 
 
 We will now turn to the interior of the home which the jealous vindictive- 
 ness of Madge had transformed from a dwelling of happiness to the abode of 
 misery and distrust. 
 
 Esther listened to the departure of the destroyer of her peace ; then, throwing 
 herself on a seat, buried her face in her hands, and wept bitterly. The 
 return of Turpin, which, half an hour before, would have gladdened her con- 
 fiding heart, now struck upon her ear as if she were guilty — as if the con- 
 sciousness of crime in her husband had transferred the load of guilt to her 
 own bosom. Suddenly starting from her seat, she summoned her energy — 
 and, drying her eyes, she endeavoured to receive him with composure. Her 
 averted head and trembling voice alarmed him — and, taking her tenderly by 
 the hand, he inquired the cause. 
 
 "Has anything occurred during my absence?" he enquired. "Esther, 
 dearest, you have been weeping : why this agitation ; am I the cause ?" 
 
 She dared scarcely trust herself to speak. 
 
 " A suaden indisposition — a severe heart — I mean a pakiful headache, 
 has — * 
 
 She paused, and King looked on anxiously. 
 
 " Shall I seek assistance?" asked her husband tenderly. 
 
 " No, no 1" she replied ; " I shall be better presently ; pray do not distress 
 yourself. Pardon me,'' said she, turning to King ; " let me not disturb you ; 
 I will retire to my chamber for a few moments, and return again." 
 
 She left the apartment, and Turpin followed her to the door ; but, in corn- 
 liance with her earnest entreaty, returned to keep company with his friend. 
 
 Agitating surmises confused her brain as she recalled each phrase, each 
 word, of her mysterious visitor. In her quiet and secluded life the name of 
 Turpin had never reached ber ear ; yet, that something dreadful, because un- 
 defined, was attached to it, she more than suspected. The woman was a 
 jealous, a disappointed woman — abandoned and infamous by her own words: 
 she had told her too, that her husband, with whose name of Palmer she ap- 
 peared well acquainted, was a highwayman ; but then, had she not also assured 
 her that he was in a felon's cell for bis crimes? That, at least, was untrue; 
 
108 DICK TUIIPIN. 
 
 and might not the rest be so? Was she insane? she caught eagerly at the 
 hope, but the broken reed pierced her as she remembered the ring and the 
 other token of affection which the woman had shown to her — coupied with the 
 assertion of her husband's baseness. At length she decided to return to his 
 presence. 
 
 " I will not believe him so heartless — he has been ever kind — and upon 
 what evidence am I about to convict him ? Would a man of respectability 
 and character — though, I must own, rather too gay and volatile — be his bosom 
 friend and constant companion, were he such an one as the malicious frenzy 
 of that desperate woman has represented him ? No ! though, alas ! my heart's 
 confidence is shaken, my hand shall not be the first to plant the bitter weeds 
 of unhappiness in our hitherto happy home." 
 
 With this resolve she checked her tears, and rejoined the friends. The eye 
 of her husband was bent on her with anxiety, that was instantly displaced by 
 glistening pleasure, as he marked the change in her aspect. The frugal 
 supper was despatched amidst many pleasantries from King — who wished, as 
 he said, to dispel the low spirits he was pleased to attribute to the temporary 
 absence of her spouse. 
 
 "Ton honour," said he, '"Dick, you're the happiest fellow unhanged; 
 (Esther started at the word, as her husband looked anxiously at her, though 
 the action was unobserved by King.) '• You've a treasure in Mrs. Palmer," 
 (and he bowed gallantly to the lady) "which wealth cannot purchase, and 
 but few of the most fortunate of our sex can hope to — " 
 
 He paused — a livid palenesss chased the colour from the cheek of Esther, 
 lie involuntarily followed the direction of her eyes, and at once perceived the 
 cause of her emotion. The ruffles which decorated the wrist of Turpin were 
 saturated with blood ; for although he had carefully removed every stain from 
 his person, the exertion of his wounded arm, in his endeavour to conceal the 
 accident from her observation, had caused it to bleed afresh. Turpin, too, 
 caught the expression of her countenance; but before he had time to enter 
 upon any explanation, the wretched Esther, who saw in these sanguine spots 
 the confirmation of her worst forebodings, had sunk senseless from her chair. 
 
 The little party was now broken up ; King took his leave, and Turpin, on 
 his wife's recovery, soothed, as he thought, her agitation, by a plausible lie, 
 as to the accidental injury he had received. Esther feigned to believe him; 
 and thus was confidence, the firmest bond and cement of wedded love, shaken, 
 crumbled, destroyed, and replaced by a feeling of mutual distrust, disrespect, 
 and alienation. 
 
 Erom this time forlh Turpin no longer met his amiable partner with the 
 open smile of sincerity; and she, whose joy it had hitherto been to minister 
 to his slightest wants, to anticipate a wish ere he had time to frame it — still, 
 it is true, performed the duties of a tender wife — but oh ! how changed in 
 manner! A sad pensiveness, a mild abstraction of manner, pervaded all her 
 actions ; kind, uncomplaining, and attentive, she still welcomed him — 
 but it was no longer the sunny smile of guileless joy which glowed on her 
 features and sparkled in her eye ; and her pleasure (for she did feel pleasure 
 on each occasion of his safe return) had become subdued and matronly. Turpin 
 saw the change, yet dreading the explanation to which an enquiry might give 
 rise, he watched, in painful silence, the grief which robbed her cheek of its 
 rose, and her eye of its lustre, until her increasing weakness and sinking 
 strength forbad him longer to pass her state unnoticed. 
 
m 
 
 DICK TURPIN. 109 
 
 She was now too, in a situation which, though upon its first discovery it 
 had rejoiced his heart, now added to her claim on his tenderest and most con- 
 siderate sympathy ; and the knowledge that he was about to become a parent 
 brought with it pangs of the bitterest reflection and self-reproach. With 
 Esther too, the pride and joy of the mother seemed chastened by a secret 
 sorrow ; and though a faint smile might mantle across her face as the subject 
 was delicately alluded to by her husband in their conjugal tete-a-tetes, it was 
 so suddenly dispelled by an earnest seriousness of expression, and a suffusion 
 of her bright blue eye, that Turpin for some days had scarcely dared to speak 
 even on the most indifferent topics. 
 
 Thev sat one evening beside the brightly-burning fire ; his gentle helpmate 
 silently engaged in preparing some necessary or ornament for the little 
 stranger now soon to be expected ; the flickering blaze threw its fantastic 
 shadowings on the pure white ceiling ; the smooth-skinned cat, with half- 
 closed eyes, dozed and purred in happy slothfulness on the rug, or with curved 
 and moistened paw ever and anon sleeked her glossy head ; the cricket chir- 
 ruped joyously from his warm chink in the chimney corner; day had died 
 out, and darkness had stolen on, while Esther, to whom the subdued gleam was 
 more congenial than the glare of candlelight, had continued her task without 
 noticing, or at least appearing to notice, the transition. How changed were 
 her thoughts, how altered her views of the future, from the waking dreams 
 floating through her mind on the evening which, in our first chapter, intro- 
 duced Esther Bevis to the reader. How contrasted, too, was even she with 
 her former self. The sanguine, the hopeful, girl, had become the pale, 
 the unhappy mother; and the very event, her union with the man she loved, 
 which she had fondly pictured as the fount, the source of purest happiness — of 
 happiness such as none of earth's children shall enjoy, and none but the inex- 
 perienced can hope for — had poured the devastating torrent of the black 
 waters of adversity over her heart, and laid its pleasant feelings and its sunny 
 prospects waste, cold, and desolate. A deep, but partially suppressed sigh, 
 heaved the bosom of Esther, and she raised her mild eyes to her husband's 
 face as he said, — 
 
 "Esther, dearest, there is surely some deeper cause for this settled melan- 
 choly than the slight wound I received some month ago. I have hitherto 
 refrained from pressing an enquiry, in the hope that you would spare me the 
 necessity. But Esther, dearest, can I thus see you daily withering, pining, 
 fading before my eyes, and not seek the cause of the corroding canker? Surely 
 it would be some comfort, some consolation, to impart your griefs to him who 
 loves you best; and thus, by sharing, relieve the burthen which now weighs 
 down your spirits and your health. Surely," said he, in a tone of mild 
 remonstrance, "there is no secret too weighty or too sacred to confide to the 
 keeping of your husband ; a husband, too, among whose faults, and they are 
 many, (Esther sighed deeply, not unnoticed by Turpin,) a want of affection 
 for you cannot be reckoned." 
 
 Esther's eyes filled with tears, and dropping the trifle on which she had 
 been employed, she clasped her hands, and looked supplicatingly in his face. 
 
 " Richard, do not, I entreat you, I conjure you, press me to disclose what 
 I had hoped to carry with me to the grave !" 
 
 Turpin's hasty temperament was slightly roused ; he bit his lip, and frownod 
 slightly. The indication increased the distress of Esther. 
 
 "Richard,'' said she, "I fear you. Why look so darkly and angrily upon 
 
♦ 
 
 110 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 me? I cannot bear your frown — do you distrust me r Urge me no further, 
 I implore you, as you value our future happiness, to disclose a secret, which 
 must, I fear, produce our eternal separation." 
 
 The last words struck on the ear of Turpin like the death-knell of departing 
 happiness. His affection for Esther had rather increased than abated ; and 
 his soul, though familiar with crime, stiil bowed in homage to the majesty of 
 virtue. No man is wholly good or wholly bad ; and the villains of romance 
 and inelodrame, who are as free from weaknesses as from virtues, and whose 
 crimes are unredeemed by a single trait of goodness, are as far from nature 
 and from truth as the 
 
 "Faultless monsters which the world ne'er saw," 
 
 which our modern novel-writers are wont to picture as the lovers and heroes 
 of their duodecimos. 
 
 Turpin was neither the one or the other of these creatures of a morbid 
 imagination — he was a mere man, and therefore possessed the frailties and the 
 virtues, the vices and the good qualities, the weaknesses and the good resolves, 
 which go to make up the character of frail humanity, in all its shades and 
 diversities of character. His passions were strong, and his affections corres- 
 pondingly so. Unused to controul, and courageous even to a fault, ready to 
 resent insult, yet easily pacified, he possessed all the requisites of a great 
 villain and a great hero, characters which have a closer affinity than the flat- 
 terers of conquerors, and such like enemies of their species, are ready to admit. 
 The reflection of Esther on his frown instantly shamed him, and his eager and 
 reproachful tone of enquiry changed to painful regret at the harshness, for so 
 he felt it, of which he had been guilty in thus questioning her. To her con- 
 cluding supplication, and the dark hint it contained, he replied not, otherwise 
 than by rising from his chair and pressing the gentle petitioner to his breast. 
 Esther again burst into tears — and, relieved by them, and this silent, though 
 to her eloquent mark of his affection, she gently said : 
 
 " Think not, dearest husband, that my love for you has decreased; no ! the 
 vow which I have pledged before heaven was needed not, but as a form. Yet, 
 yet — a something, it may be — (and her heart misgave her as she uttered the 
 deceit) — it may be lowness of spirits has lately — my health is not what it 
 once was ; and — and if you and I could visit my father, of whom of late I have 
 thought much and sadly, it would gratify me." 
 
 The little ruse succeeded: Esther weakly imagined it might be the means 
 of separating him from the companionship she so much feared : her ignorance 
 of the heart of man, and of the meshes, stronger than gyves of iron, with 
 which crime fetters the bodies and the souls of its victims, whispered her that 
 he she so fondly idolised, might yet be plucked from the brink of the gulf of 
 destruction. Her husband seized eagerly at the proposal ; he saw, or thought 
 he saw, in it a hope of relieving her oppressed mind, and restoring her im- 
 paired health ; and Esther, with a cheerful look, drew the table near, and 
 having placed writing materials, proceeded to indite a letter to prepare her 
 father for their acceptance of his invitation, long since received. 
 
DICK TURPIN. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 — I'll example you with thievery: 
 
 The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction 
 
 Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief. 
 
 And her pale fire she filches from the sun : 
 
 The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves 
 
 The moon into salt tears, the earth's a thief, 
 
 That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen 
 
 From general excrement : each thing's a thief. 
 
 The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough might 
 
 Have unchecked theft: love not yourselves! 
 
 Rob one another. Away! there's more gold, cut-throats ! 
 
 All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, 
 
 Break open shops : there's nothing you can steal 
 
 But thieves to lose it. 
 
 — Timon of Athens, Act iv. sc. iii. 
 
 In the purlieus of Drury Lane, between Holborn and Queen-street, stood 
 Lewkner's Lane, or rather still stands, under the title of Parker-street and 
 Cross-lane. Tn this district, comprising Charles-street and the many wretched 
 culs-de-sac adjacent, redolent of filth, festering with dirt, and disgusting both 
 to sight and smell, still reside the refuse of London prostitution and misery. 
 Here the victim of vice and of gin, the poor and the criminal, the profligate 
 and the penniless congregate ; and if such be now the state of this region, 
 let the reader imagine its extent greater, its filth and poverty as great, and 
 its crime aggravated tenfold, and he may picture the Lewkner's Lane of the 
 time when Macheath flourisheckon the stage and Turpin on the road. In a 
 low pothouse, the resort of the seediest of thieves, the scourings even of the 
 gaols, were seated a motley mob of dirty and brutal ruffians, with their slip- 
 shod women. It was scarcely past noon, and newly risen, they were cooling 
 the raging thirst of the overnight's debauchery by draughts of twopenny from 
 earthen jugs, or in more cases, bolting from the glass the " leperous distilment' 
 of soul and body-destroying juniper. The men, unshaved, open-throated and 
 ungartered, needed but a glance to convince you of their pursuits ; the bully 
 and the thief were as strongly written on their countenances as though nature 
 had branded them ; such power has man's vice and debasement to mark signs 
 on its slaves. Here and there a cadaverous pimp, the scheming cowardly 
 keeper of one or more of the low brothels in the neighbourhood might be 
 seen; a wretch, who by living on the wages of some miserable abandonnee, 
 perhaps long since consigned to an early grave by her licentiousness and excess 
 had scraped together wherewith to " furnish" some wretched tenement, some 
 den of robbery to the intoxicated or the unwary, where he lurked spider-like 
 supporting an existence " stinkingly depending" by sucking the blood and 
 seizing the lion's share of the plunder of the miserable, profligate, and reck- 
 less females, whom he styled his " lodgers." 
 
 At the bar, or rather counter of this flourishing hostelrie, stood several 
 juvenile candidates for the halter ; each of these boys, ( shame to the society 
 which tolerates such nurseries of crime, and such still exist among the 
 licensed houses in several quarters of the metropolis,) though few had yet seen 
 fifteen summers, was accompanied by his "fancy," a slatternly, dram-drinking 
 outcast, often double his age. These specimens of the softer sex were also 
 strikingly characteristic in their costume. They sported, in most cases, a dirty 
 cotton wrapper of a staring ground or pattern, from which, however,the colours 
 
lit DICK TURPIN 
 
 had fled ; but to make amends for its neutral tint, or filthiness, each sported 
 about her neck, either twisted rope fashion, or more modestly spread over her 
 shoulder a brilliant-coloured specimen of bandanna. Soiled stockings, still bear- 
 ing the marks of the preceding night's perambulations, were dragged 'a-la-cork- 
 screw,' o'er each ungartered leg ; and not a few displayed at the heel of the trod- 
 den-down slipper, a portion of the natural integument, which has been vulgarly 
 though aptly, termed "a potato." It is but justice, however, to state, that 
 this was owing to the earliness of the hour. Later in the afternoon, having 
 drunk themselves into a state of sufficient bestiality, the female part of the company 
 would retire to their holes, and having " rubbed out" their hose, and hung them to 
 their own fire, if they had one, or if without one, before that of a more lucky 
 fellow-lodger, they, after a stretch on the bed for an hour or two, would sally 
 forth much improved in the outward appearance of their "understandings'' — 
 the potatoes aforesaid having disappeared into their high-heeled shoes, by a 
 cunning process called " coaxing," which must be understood as an ingenious 
 substitute for the more respectable expedients of "grafting" or darning. The 
 neighbourhood was of a piece with its inhabitants. Among its rows of irre- 
 gular, dilapidated, wooden houses, there were few but exhibited some calling 
 in its low rectangular shopfront. In these lower tenements — for each floor 
 possessed one or more distinct " holding," — glass-windows appeared a luxury 
 unknown, and their place was at night supplied by rudely-formed, ill-fitting, 
 black shutters, sliding in a grove of wood. The windows presented a curious 
 assortment of stock. Fried flounders and dabs, periwinkles, a few shrivelled 
 oranges, cobbled secondhand shoes, damaged fruit, and a few dull-looking 
 Dutch herrings, the coarsest of flatfish, and the refuse of the slaughterhouse 
 in the shape of tripe, livers, and the hearts of various animals, seemed the 
 staple commodities of the district. Here and there, swathed in most unhealthy 
 coloured calico, dangled the black doll which pointed out the residence of the 
 dealer in rags and phials, a personage whose trade included that of purchasing 
 " bones," in other senses than the compilers of dictionaries have given to the word. 
 Other signs, too, appealed, by their symbolic language, to the unlettered 
 minds of the ignorant dwellers in Levvkner's Lane. A large red box, 
 crossed with yellow bars of extraordinary dimensions, spoke more in- 
 telligibly to them than the inscription of " mangling don hear," traced 
 beneath in ill-shaped letters of the same vulgar, brimstone colour. A 
 cow of most unearthly proportions, and red as red ochre could make it, marked 
 the milk-house ; and in front of the dens of one or two pawnbrokers creaked 
 the three golden balls of the Lombard. The houses all presented their gables 
 towards the street, anil their iron-framed and lead-divided windows, opening 
 casement fashion, swung each on its iron gudgeons and pintles, fashioned 
 like those on which the rudder of a vessel is shipped. From not a few of 
 these projected the primitive contrivance of a superannuated hair broom or 
 cashiered mop, standing out horizontally, steadied by a clothes line attached 
 to its extremity and describing an acute angle from its end to the respective 
 fastenings on each side of the window ; this centre pole and its two lateral 
 hempen stays formed an extempore clothes horse, from which floated in the 
 black-laden air, mutilated remnants of shirts, tattered shifts, gowns embroi- 
 bered en gobb/estitch, footless stockings, and the miserable coverings of the 
 half-clad, squalid children, who rolled on the pavements, squalled in the pass- 
 ages, or made dirt-pies in the gutters of this savoury region. The ear of the 
 explorer, for none but those whom business or curiosity brought into the 
 
i):, k ruRPii 
 
 J13 
 
 Lewkner's Lane in 17S1. 
 
 district, were likely to see or hear much of the " domestic manners" of tries** 
 inhabitants of the back settlements " of Babylon, was struck by peculiar slang, 
 or disgusted by the blasphemy and obscenity of peech, in ordinary use 
 among its denizens. 
 
 The writer is not unaware that the squeamishness of modern pseudo-moral- 
 ity will turn reprovingly from such details as this He will not ask pardon 
 for offending or retorting on such fault-finders. He goes further than denying 
 the validity of their position, that it is not proper, nav, that "it is dangerous 
 to expose vice, lest we should contaminate the imagination of those who 
 are as yet pure;" or, as some more timidly have put it, "that it is 
 at any rate, not expedient to open the eyes of those who are as yet, fortunately, 
 ignorant of the corruptness of society." What is this sickly sophistry but 
 saying in other words that ignorance and innocence are synonymous? It is a 
 libel on virtue; for it goes to prove that it is only in the absence of the 
 knowledge of crime that mankind eschew its commission ! These precious 
 providers of fig-ieaves for human weaknesses see not the " Serbonian bog " 
 into which they are travelling. The hermit who withdrew himself from the 
 world, and who committed social smicide by removing himself from the duties 
 as well as the temptations of sinful society ; who fled the field of contest, 
 and shrunk from the trial; according to these sages, would be worthy of re- 
 ward from him who said, " it is not good for man to be alone.'' No ! says 
 reason, award that to him who, wrestling with the difficulties without and 
 the frailty within, achieved that partial triumph which must be accounted 
 victory to imperfect humanity. " He who conquers himself is greater than 
 No. 15. 
 
U4 DICK TCRPIft. 
 
 he who takes a city," said one of the wisest of the ancients. Our modern 
 sages would assert the same of him, who, to use an Irish figure of speech, 
 runs away from himself. The sagacity of the ostrich, which plunges its head 
 into a bush, seems to be the type of their deduction, that innocence is igno- 
 rance ; to Which; may we not add, as a natural consequence, that knowledge 
 is crime? " Oh no ; we don't say that, that's unfair, that's monstrous, absurd. 
 We have always approved of the principle of that healthy morality which 
 induced our old preachers to call things by their right names. We know that 
 the change of manners has rendered what then was allowable in good society, 
 inadmissible/' Our reply is* that what Was right then rs right now ; and though 
 we properly purge our language of its coarseness, we cannot consent to fritter 
 away principles ; and therefore hold with the Spartans, who intoxicated 
 their helots, to deter their youth from drunkenness by showing its degrada- 
 tion and bestiality ; and contend, though their practice is unfitted for modern 1 
 manners, the intention was one which the moralist must approve. 
 
 The word morality is easily pronounced, but not so eas'lv understood ; and 
 it is because we have allowed ourselves to be mystified by these wurdmongers 
 that " tot homines, tot sententise," can be applied to this subject. Truth, 
 however, is the foundation of all morality ; and paltering, or equivocation, are 
 to it destruction and death. There can be no such thing as " qualifying" 
 truth, for " qualified truth" is absolute falsehood. Truth changes its very 
 nature the moment we adulterate it, and cannot exist but as one, indivisible, 
 and unalterable. Viewing truth then as moral beauty, we cannot for the life 
 of us feel anything but contempt for these couleur- de-rose moralists, who 
 would tell us to keep truth at the bottom of her well ; whose purblind 
 morality would hide the sun with their blanket, because being a " god and 
 kissing carrion," there is danger to corruption in his rays ; whose ricketty 
 virtue fears the exercise necessary to its developement, and who censure the 
 pictures which the observer of human nature presents to them, on the ground 
 that, " though they are true, and though they cannot deny they exhibit vice 
 the seamy side without, yet it would be better, for the innocence of society,- 
 not to permit them to be exhibited." Pshaw! that virtue, which only waits 
 for its first temptation to fall, is but a negation of vice ; and we are convinced 
 that, by " showing vice her own feature, and scorn her own image," by painting: 
 truly, forcibly, and naturally, the misery, the poverty, the siiffering, the de- 
 gradation, the disease, and the remorse, which haunt vice even as its 
 shadow, the interests of true morality are more efficiently subserved, than by 
 the pretty plaything pictures of the pleasures of virtue With which these triflers 
 in ethics propose to displace them. The observer of human nature must 
 admit, that the large majority of the younger criminals who crowd our gaols, are 
 the offspring of ignorance. This work is not the place for statistical data, 
 but we could show that the check of education is an effectual one — ay, though 
 it be even secular learning as contradistinguished from spiritual or moral in- 
 struction. A still larger proportion of the painted victims, who, by the glare 
 of gaslight, in faded silk or tawdry cotton, solicit the wayfarer in 
 
 Decent London, when the daylignt's o'er, 
 
 owe their present position to an ignorance of the world and the world's ways. 
 There was a time when each of these creatures was innocent — (or ignorant, 
 as these vice-suppression gentry would say) — but for want of that mental 
 draining, which would render them capable of estimating the value of a good 
 
DICK TURPIN. 115 
 
 name — of appreciating the beauty (nay, set it on a lower scale, the expediency) 
 of virtue, were easily seduced by the first villain who solicited them ; while 
 others, equally ignorant, wanted but the promptings of their own vanity and 
 love of dress to debauch their innocence — or ignorance — into a belief that the 
 life of a courtezan contains pleasures and luxuries which toiling virtue cannot 
 hope for. Would not many of these, had they known the misery of vice, 
 have shunned such a course of life — had they known that what seemed flowers 
 in the distance would, on a nearer approach, prove sharp thorns and poisonous 
 weeds? Would they have joyously and heedlessly have entered a land whose 
 sparkling streams were black with woe and bitterness? whose fruits, though 
 delightful to the eye of inexperience, are 
 
 Like to the apples of the Dead Sea's shore^- 
 AH ruddy gold without, but ashes at the core? 
 
 Would they, we ask, have made the plunge which placed a great gulf between 
 them and society — which made them outcasts, which forced them to abandon 
 all the sex's charms in order to procure a wretched, a precarious, a degraded 
 subsistence? Would they have done all this had they been forewarned by a 
 knowledge of the results of the fatal step, instead of being guarded by the 
 P. innocence of ignorance," contended for by these morality-mongers? 
 
 But, methinks the reader exclaims — i* my dear sir, where in the name of all 
 that's rigmarole have you got to .' You left me in Lewkner's Lane some half- 
 hour ago, and I'd thank you to leave off prating and philosophizing; if you've 
 nothing to shew me, just take me out of this; for it's not the place 
 any person of iaste would choose to stand still in." Softly, gentle 
 reader,— readers are always gentle — I have not yet done with you; I 
 rv ill shew you, if you please to accompany me, something more valuable and 
 instructive to him who can read it aright, than can be learned in the precincts 
 of the palace, or amid the frivolities of the drawing room; aye, or even within 
 the walls of your parish church. In the two first-named places-. — where ars est 
 celare arrem, the manners are as unreal, the sentiments as artificial, and the 
 expressions as false to nature, as the bloom on the cheek of the withered demi- 
 rep of quality, or the pretended honour of the aristocratic " thief," ( to whom 
 even discourtesy applies no stronger terms than those of " swindler," or 
 "blackleg,'') — it would be absurd to look for it. And in the latter, though you 
 may hear a glowing and energetic picture of the beauty of virtue, it will fall 
 but coldly on the sense, and prove but feeble in its effect, if compared with a 
 sketch of the hideous deformity of vice, bold, truthful, and from the life. And 
 now, apologizing for the detention, we will proceed. 
 
 The puddles in Lewkner's Lane, formed by the hill and dale facetiously 
 termed "the pavement," shone all bright with the gay colours of putrefaction, 
 as a woman with basket and key in hand, followed by a man, emerged from 
 one of the overhanging doorways. The man in all the " dignity of dirt," was 
 smoking a short pipe ; the woman's handsome countenance glistened with that 
 peculiar distension of the integument which drinking and excess produce in 
 many females. The fervid heat of the skin, too, by fixing the soap used in the 
 washing she had just given herself, increased this glossy appearance. She 
 wore a flashy sort of morning dress ; her high-heeled shoes were handsome 
 little worn, and of a bright colour ; and her whole appearance was rather 
 superior to the inhabitants of " the lane." Thrv took their wav iowarus 
 " The Punch Bowl." 
 
HG DICK TURPIN. 
 
 •Madge," said Dennis, for he it was; " how's the blunt stand ? B — t 
 me if I've a skurrik. I s'pose we can mix it up for a trifle, though ? " 
 
 The woman replied only by opening her hand and displaying a seven- 
 shilling piece and some silver. Dennis's look brightened. 
 
 " All right," said he. "Madge, old gal, you're in a lucky box just now." 
 
 " Here," said Madge, " don't look shabby. Let 'em see you pay," and she 
 presented him some silver. " There's enough on 'em a d — d sight too ready 
 to make remarks, when they sees a man down." 
 
 They walked into the den of drunkenness described at the beginning of 
 this chapter; and leaving them there, we will turn to a conversation going 
 on outside. 
 
 " Biddy !'' exclaimed a voice from a first-floor window, " the top of the 
 morning to you — how's trade." 
 
 The speaker was a slovenly woman of immense stature, some five and thirty 
 to forty years of age. All of her person that was visible, as she rested her 
 huge muscular arms on the sill of the casement, consisted of a proportionate 
 pair of shoulders, covered with a bright yellow handkerchief: her uncombed 
 head exhibited, in its coarse black locks, here and there a straggling grey 
 hair; her marked features bespoke the determination of her character, though 
 the bloating of liquors, ana a life of excess, had imparted an expression of 
 sensuality to her mouth. The person addressed by her was a commonplace- 
 looking creature, a vendor of oysters, who was wheeling a barrow, on the top 
 of which a board, with raised edges, exhibited small heaps of the coarsest 
 oysters, allotted into pennyworths and ha'porths. Even costermongering has 
 its revolutions ; and the oyster-woman with her barrow, so common in old 
 pictures and old songs, is gone. 
 
 " Och, misthriss Mary, an is that yerself?" responded Biddy; "small rason 
 ha' the likes o' me to crack about thrade, an' the ould man afther braking 
 his leg off a scaffild yesternight." 
 
 The miseries of the poor are too frequent and too ever-present to excite 
 more than a passing thought, and " misthriss Mary," as Biddy respectfully 
 termed her, though she was one of the vulgarest and coarsest of the cvprians 
 of Lewkner's Lane, without noticing the tale of Biddy's troubles, leaning 
 herself forward, went on in a loudish whisper — 
 
 " Biddy, I want you to do me a job." 
 
 The oysterwoman expressed her willingness. 
 
 " It's no go for me to be twigged at Westmister. You was never there, 
 wor you? (Biddy shook her head.) My flash man's in quod, and that's the 
 whole on it; and p'raps they'll lime* me if I go. You heerd the whole of 
 the dodge, I s'pose, at Bob Berry's last night?" 
 
 " 'Deed, an' troth, I'm innycent of knowln' a word ov it," said Biddy : " it's 
 a ba 1 hearing though, that Bill's lumbered ; sure an' I'd not be the woman 
 to turn ray back on him an' he in throuble. But maybe, I'd not be able to 
 get the sight of him." 
 
 "I'll put you fly to that," said the woman ; " Ben Gibbs — you know Ben, 
 the black-cove dubberj" he's an old flame o' mine — he giv me this fogle," 
 pointing to the handkerchief on her neck ; '• only he's tipt me the office not 
 to go near just now, cos it isn't with him to do nothink. Ben's a good 'un, 
 but my old man wor al'ays yellow% whenever his name came up ; so maybe it 
 
 * Detain. t Turnkey. t Jealous. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 117 
 
 'lid be as well not to ax him anythink as if it co'ued from me, cos it may breed 
 bate* if so be Bill should 'scape Darby s fcAr.7 Bill wasn't a bad 'un," 
 continued she ; " an' I'd like to hear what the quodcull % has to say of his 
 chance." 
 
 " Och sure, an' I'll go with all plasure in life," replied Biddy; "small 
 blame to ye for saying he was the good 'un — and Biddy Hoolatan's heavy 
 curse on the grab as nailed him, say I. Sure, an' how might it have hap- 
 pened ? Sore's myself at heait to hear ov the same." 
 
 The woman proceeded to give her an account of all that she had as yet 
 learnt of the occurrences of the overnight, with which the reader is already 
 acquainted ; and haying talked herself into a heat, ended with — 
 
 " I've heerd summut though, that I'll make some smoke for. Stevens says 
 as he knows Madge Dutton 'peached. S'elp me — " and she wound up her 
 declaration with an oath of vengeance against the object of her suspicions. 
 
 " I'm after guessing," replied Biddy, who was a sort of female ticket-porter 
 in the district, " Madge wouldn't be trustin' her life in the lane, providin' she'd 
 bemaned herself to that same. I see her within these two minits, with these 
 blessed eyes, go into 'the Boul' with her man." 
 
 " You did, did you ?" eagerly asked Moll Rhodes, by which name she was 
 generally known ; and starting from the window, she in a moment appeared 
 at the door. Her countenance was distorted with the fiercest rage. 
 
 " Will you stand by me, Biddy V asked she, " and I'll tackle her ; it's true, 
 Biddy — she sold him, an' I'll have her heart out." 
 
 Biddy commenced what she called " spaking rason ;" she might have spared 
 her breath. 
 
 " Sure, an' now, there's a good woman, misthriss Mary ;" but her remon- 
 strances were lost, for with hasty steps Moll Rhodes made her way towards the 
 Punchbowl. " Hurroosh, there she goes! sure an' there'll be wigs on the 
 green, an' no one to lift 'em," said Biddy coolly, as she looked after her; 
 " Moll's a divil's-limb for a skrimmage, an' it's a pity I tould her. Tim 
 Lurgan, jist give an eye to my barry and things," said she ; and leaving her 
 stock in charge of a translator, § who stood smoking his dudeen at his door, 
 she hastened after, not to lose the sight of the sport. 
 
 Meantime, the bar of the Punchbowl had been the scene of altercation. 
 Madge was surprised, on going into the house, to find the bustle which 
 her appearance created. Five or six women, who were assembled drinking, 
 formed themselves into a knot, and after some pretty loud murmuring, one of 
 them addressed herself to the landlord. The man came round his bar, and 
 spoke to Dennis, who was looking with a scowl at what he thought the marked 
 intention of the women to quarrel with Madge — 
 
 " Dennis, I'd advise you, if you've no wish to make a fight in my house, to 
 take your woman out of this." Then applying his mouth to the man's ear, 
 he said, "She's been 'peaching I hear; mind, I don't say it's true; only 
 stall ner off quietly, there's a good fellow. — I won't have no disturbance here," 
 he continued aloud. 
 
 Dennis looked hard at Madge — she quailed for an instant ; then with the 
 blood mounting to her face, she turned on her assailants, exclaiming — 
 
 " Show me the woman as 'ull say that to Madge Dutton's face and I'll — " 
 
 • Quarrelling. \ The day when felons used to be removed to Newgate for trial. 
 J Gaoler. $ A vamper and vendor of secondhand shoes. 
 
118 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 The party, neither of whom dared a contest, had they even been sufficiently 
 'nterestcd in the affair, shrunk back at her bullying tone and manner ; Dennis 
 looked perplexed, for he had strong suspicions of the truth of this unexpected 
 accusation. Further 'fending and proving was cut short, for at that instant 
 Moll Rhodes entered. With the spring of a tigress she flew upon Madge, 
 and with one powerful blow felled her to the ground. Dennis seized the in- 
 furiated woman, and endeavoured to drag her from his paramour, in whose 
 hair she was knotting her hands. 
 
 " Leave me alone," screamed she ; the other women tried their best to tear 
 Dennis away. 
 
 " Shame ! " exclaimed one ; " let 'em alone. Moll knows what she's about. 
 I'd murder her myself if she'd sarved me so." 
 
 '?Come off, Dennis," said the landlord, dragging him away. Madge lay 
 senseless ; her head had struck a settle, and she was bathed in blood. Moll, 
 excited to frenzy by the conflict, now turned on Dennis, who in her blind rage 
 she set down as a participator in the treachery, and who had further aggravated 
 her by the blows he had bestowed on her arms, in his attempt to rescue the 
 head of Madge from her grasp. 
 
 " You one-eyed ,'' panted she. " I'll do for you too ;" and she sprung 
 
 at him. He, however, stepping aside, caught her by the wrists. 
 
 " Take her away," cried he, merely standing on the defensive, but no one 
 interfered. Moll threw herself on her knees, and in the paroxysm of her rage, 
 renting curses, fixed her teeth in the hand ot Dennis. The pain compelled 
 him to liberate her arm ; and the disengaged hand was immediately fixed, 
 like the claw of some ferocious animal, on his face Dennis swayed back to 
 avoid the blow, and Moll, rising to her feet, bore him with violence against 
 the wall. The great strength and weight of Moll, and the momentary hesi- 
 tation of Dennis to act vigorously, had given her a temporary advantage, 
 and she followed it up with the vigour of a fury. 
 
 " Go it Moll ; slog him," cried half-a-dozen. 
 
 "Take her away, or I'll do her a mischief," exclaimed Dennis. 
 
 She now released her other hand, and twisted it in his long hair. Dennis 
 passed his hand into the breast of his coat, and opening the blade of a large 
 clasp knife with his teeth, struck her suddenly on the side. The woman uttered 
 a shrill scream, reeled backwards, and fell heavily. None saw the nature of 
 this movement of the spiteful Dennis. 
 
 "Take that, Mother Rhodes," said Dennis, savagely, as he cunningly 
 slipped the knife from his right hand, and dropped it into his ample coat 
 pocket. " I'm thinking that's your gruel." 
 
 Two or three women hastened to raise the prostrate Moll. She groaned 
 deeply ; and turning on her side, drew up her limbs with the movement of one 
 writhing under severe pain. 
 
 " Well, b — t me," said the landlord, to whom such scenes were of every- 
 day occurrence ; "that was a floorer, anyhow. I fancy Missus Moll won't 
 tackle the black 'un agin in a hurry. She carries heavy metal, but she's got 
 her match this time, and no flies." 
 
 Dennis slipt out at the swing door, and made his way hastily down a narrow 
 court that led into Holborn. 
 
 " Hollo ! " cried the landlord, looking out, " why he's cut and left his 
 woman here ; I'm bless'd if he hasn't. Madge ! come old gal, pick yourself 
 ,,p ; here's money bid for you," and he raised the half-stunned woman to the 
 
nick f URPIN. j ! 
 
 settle. She put her hand mechanically to the back of her head. " Ay, ay," 
 aaid he, seeing the blood, " it was a nobber. I'll doctor it though; here ; 
 Sam, some water ; let's see what harm's done," 
 
 He was just going to wash the head of Madge, when his attention was 
 called off by the exclamations of the party which surrounded Moll. 
 
 "Fetch a doctor," was the cry; "why the villain's murdered her — she's 
 stabbed. Stop him, Mr. Stubbs." 
 
 " I'm supposing," said Stubbs, who had left his patient, " as the coward 'y 
 varmint has mizzled. He's far enough by this time. I was rayther puzzled 
 at his hopping the twig so suddent. Howsever, if she is to be a stiff 'un, 
 'twon't do to have my house called in question ; that can't do no good to her 
 nor nobody else." 
 
 This reasoning appeared to be assented to by the whole of the company, 
 rind amid many execrations on Dennis, the wounded Moll was carried to her 
 lodging. 
 
 A neighbouring apothecary, by courtesy termed " the doctor,'' was sent for ; 
 and the wound, if not mortal, was made so by injudicious treatment. Even 
 the iron constitution of Moll Rhodes could not stand against three such 
 assailants as want, disease, and neglect. The wound, which was both wide 
 and deep, degenerated into an open sore ; gangrene ensued — and the day 
 that Bill Stevens attended what was then termed the " Sheriff's Ball" at 
 Tyburn, Moll lay a stark corpse in her miserable tenement in Lewkner's Lane. 
 The coroner, it is true, assembled a jury, pro forma, and "the doctor" gave 
 evidence that the deceased was wounded. Nevertheless, after attributing, in 
 mystifying jargon, the fatal result to drinking, and giving it as his opinion 
 that deceased could not have lived, even had she not been stabbed; (by which 
 ingenious representation he washed his hands of all the future trouble conse- 
 quent upon a prosecution of the murderer) — the " twelve honest men" decided, 
 w ith the accuracyjbr which " Crowner's Quest Law" is famed, that the twice- 
 slain woman died "By the visitation, &c.'' 
 
 Taking his way across Holborn, and through the " Field of Forty Footsteps," 
 Dennis pushed on toward Highgate, and rested that night in Caen Wood . 
 With the dawn he again started, and avoiding the highway until he had 
 cleared some twenty miles, struck into the northern road on this side Hertford ; 
 fhence, passing throiigh Bedfordshire and Huntingdonshire, he, on the fourth' 
 night, reached his native place near Sleaford, in Lincolnshire. We have 
 before said that Dennis had been a daring poacher : an absence of seven years 
 had, however, he flattered himself, worn out the memory of the affray which 
 had occasioned him to leave that part of the country; and moreover, he 
 hoped, that his intimate knowledge of its localities, and his old associates, 
 should any still remain, would assist him in eluding the law. He was not 
 long meeting with kindred spirits ; and few months elapsed, from the time of 
 his arrival, before the increase of petty robberies and predial outrages, bespoke 
 an unwanted activity and daring among the lawbreakers of the county of 
 Lincoln. 
 
120 t DICK TURPIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 An English landscape ! to my heart 'Tis but a vision! yet its bliss 
 
 Fraught with a deeper spell, Is sober, pure, and true; 
 
 Than in f»r prouder works of art 
 For me could ever dwell; 
 My eye their charms might more approve, 
 On this I gaze with silent love. 
 
 To think how many a spot iike this, 
 As fair in form and hue, 
 With it in quiet beauty vies, 
 For English hearts to love and prize. 
 
 — Bernard Barton, 
 
 Upon his brow 
 
 The dampi of deatli are settling, and his eyes grow fixed 
 
 And meaningless; she marks the change 
 
 With desperate earnestness ; and staying even 
 
 Her breath, that nothing may disturb the hush, 
 
 Lays her wan cheek still closer to his heart, 
 
 Haply to catch a sound betokening life. 
 
 It beat9 — again — another — and another, 
 
 And now' — 'tis still for ever. 
 
 *' An English landscape ! " The pencil of Salvator Rosa may dash off 
 the sombre sublimity of the brigand-haunted passes of the rocky Apennines ; 
 the warmth of Claude may image the gorgeous sunset of a southern sky ; the 
 transparent Canaletti may place before us the "still life," the rows of 
 palaces, and the translucent water-streets of the widowed queen of the Adriatic. ; 
 the sober Dutchmen may limn with truth and minuteness their cattle, their 
 flats, or their fishing boats ; but could any or all of these give to the eve 
 or to the heart "an English landscape ? " Its charm lies not in the striking 
 features which arrest the painter's attention, but in the harmonious blending 
 of tranquillity and comfort — that word so truly English — which we look for in 
 vain in more romantic lands. 
 
 Here, nothing strikes us with surprise, 
 
 But peaceful and serene — 
 New landscapes smile before our eyes 
 
 Like some remembered scene — 
 And bear the fascinating grace 
 Own'd by a loved, familiar face. 
 
 .Such was the scene on which a thatched cottage, embowered like a bird's 
 nest amid luxuriant foliage, peeped forth. Its snow-white walls were varie- 
 gated with the clustered rose, and the creeping honey-suckle hung its 
 fragrant calices, moist with stores of nectared sweets, around the light green 
 latticework which formed the porch ; clusters of the golden stonecrop adorned 
 its roof; and from the window sills the fragrant mignonette breathed its per- 
 fume through the rustic dwelling. Its small garden exhibited, in every part, 
 the traces of a delicate and inexpensive taste. A small and elegantly formed 
 stand, on either side of the entrance, was crowded with Flora's favourites. 
 The odorous geranium in its various hues, from the crimson outvying the 
 painter's tints to the faint blush of lilac, alternated with the waxen flower of the 
 succulent balm, and the modest leaf of the lemon-scented verbena. Thrift, the 
 London-pritle, and the bright-coloured garden daisy, bordered the neatly-kept 
 walk, and confined within their bounds the coloured pea, the azure iris, the 
 peony, and the taller and larger flowers clustered round the glossy-leaved 
 rhododendron, which seemed, by its central situation in the group, there to 
 hold its floral court. 
 
DICK TUKI1N. 
 
 121 
 
 lipsgs 
 
 WMKMl 
 
 The Rohljerv at Ambrose Bevis's determined on. 
 
 Nor did the fair flowers of this sequestere 1 scene waste their sweetness on 
 an unworthy mistress. Fair, fragile, and beautiful as they, was the gentle 
 being who daily tended on them, who rejoiced over their growth, and with a 
 pensive regret, that was not sadness, watched their decay. Between these, 
 one or two feathered pets, and her attendance on her aged father, did the fail- 
 Esther divide her time. Within, too, the comforts of taste and competence 
 were visible : the opened book, the harp, and the unfinished drawing, which 
 met the eve in the little parlour, told the indoor relaxations of the occupant. 
 In this lovely retreat, for some weeks, had old Ambrose been blessed, for to him 
 it was indeed a blessing, with the presence of his daughter. The quiet re- 
 tirement of the spot had done much for the health of Esther ; and though a 
 settled melancholy- pervaded her thoughts and actions, the old man saw no- 
 thing in her behaviour which he did not think accounted for by the absence 
 of her husband, who, after placing her safely in the hands of her parent, had 
 returned to London, after a stay of a few days, on the plea of urgent business. 
 The congeniality of her occupations and position to her taste and wishes, had 
 their effect in restoring placidity to her mind, while the healthy breeze and 
 sweet air recalled the bloom to her cheek, brightness to her eye, and elas- 
 ticity to her step. Her occasional anxiety of look, and abstraction of mind, 
 only called forth the quiet facetiousness of the fond old man at the, to him, 
 glad prospect, as he phrased it, of " making him a grandfather." The only 
 other dweller in this abode of peace, was a serving girl : not one of those 
 pert coquettes, who, with slipshod feet chatter at door to the baker's man., 
 and with flaunting ribbands and fancy caps, trip into the next pnblichouse ttv 
 bandv half-indecent jests with the barman ; or who carry on practical flirtatlona 
 No. 1G. 
 
122 
 
 with John the footman in the passage, or on the staircases of their master's 
 dwellings — but a plain, unsophisticated, neat, trustworthy girl, the daughter 
 of a neighbouring widow. And now, having introduced the reader to the 
 household of old Ambrose, we will resume our narrative. 
 
 On a lovely evening, the old man, still hale and active, sat beneath his 
 honeysuckled porch, watching with a pleased eye his daughter as she busied 
 herself in watering her little garden. Old Bevis was evidently revolving 
 something in his mind, and appeared once or twice to be upon the point of 
 giving utterance to his thoughts ; at length, the progress of her task brought 
 his daughter nearer, and he thus addressed her : — 
 
 "Do you remember, Esther, the family of the Rentons ; or rather the old 
 lady and her daughter who visited us in Essex some years since?'* 
 
 " Yes," replied she ; " and now you remind me, did not the elder lady re- 
 quest your permission for me to accompany herself and daughter, on a length- 
 ened visit to their dwelling in some distant part of the country? Though our 
 acquaintance was a short one, I formed a strong affection for Matilda Renton ; 
 and until her departure with her mother for France, where I heard s'ie took 
 the veil, (Esther saddened at the thought) many were the letters that passed 
 between us. I have them now, and read them over only last night, with 
 melancholy recollections of the happy hours of childhood we passed together. 
 Poor Matilda !" 
 
 " Pshaw," replied old Bevis, in a cheerful tone; "upon my word, Esther, 
 you're getting needlessly sad upon all points — brighten up, child; her lot's 
 not so dark as you've painted it. Taken the veil, forsooth ! why who told 
 you that silly story?" 
 
 " Her schoolfellow, Madeline; I beg her pardon — LaHy Denistoun ; but it 
 was many years ago — when she and I were at Hempstead." 
 
 " Taken the veil — taken fiddlesticks!" said the old man, merrily; " why 
 she lives near Lincoln, is married to a substantial man, the junior partner of 
 one of the wealthiest bankers in the county, who is brother to a member of 
 parliament, and has some half dozen of the rosiest, merriest, nicest little 
 curly-pated children you've ever had the fortune to see. Taken the veil, 
 ha { ha ! ha !" 
 
 " Well," said his daughter, brightening up ; " I'm sincerely glad to hear it ; 
 but why should Madeline have been imposed upon by such a story?" 
 
 " I can tell you, little simpleton, '" said her father, gaily tapping her cheek, 
 ns she now stood leaning on the arm of his chair; " I can tell you. She was 
 in a convent for education, which is against the law, dearest.* She is of an 
 old Catholic family; and after a year or two spent on the continent, she 
 returned ; and I know none would she more warmly welcome than her former 
 playmate and the daughter of her husband's friend. But I have more to say. 
 Some money, which I have to pay over, as trustee under the will of a friend, 
 has lately fallen in, and is now lodged in the hands of the firm of which her 
 husband is the acting partner. I expect the attorney of my ward here 
 shortly, with the necessary authority for receiving it. To-morrow I shall go 
 to Lincoln, and if my Esther has patience to travel with her old father, he 
 will be proud to introduce her to Mrs. Stourton." 
 
 • The statute against Catholic seminaries, imposing the penalty of forfeiture of 
 lands and chattels on any one who should send a child to the Continent for education, 
 wls at that time in full vigour. 
 
 
DICK TURP1N. 123 
 
 Esther, as might be expected, gave a joyous assent to the proposal, and 
 the following day but one witnessed the mutual greetings of the two friends, 
 and the renewal of their long-interrupted intercourse. 
 
 After a stay of a few days, Esther and her revered parent returned. The 
 old man in high spirits, Esther gladdened by the warmth of Mrs. Steurton's 
 affectionate kindness, and anticipating her promised return of the visit by a 
 call at their pleasant home. 
 
 We must now turn to a far different scene. In a dark room, the low ceiling 
 of which presented bare and smoke-blackened rafters ; at a rudely fashioned 
 table sat a party of four reckless, desperate-looking ruffians. At their feet 
 crouched several wire-haired mongrels and lurchers. Beside each man, 
 leaning against the bench on which they sat, rested the poacher's companion — 
 his gun. They were smoking, and by the eagerness depicted on their villanous 
 features, seemed earnestly discussing some matter of great interest. 
 
 " I'll tell 'e whot," said a bluff, muscular-looking desperado, in whose face 
 there were traces of a bold fearlessness. " I'm dang'd if I mind e'er a keeper 
 in Notts, Lines, Hunts, no, nor Laystersheer naythur, but a' doan't 'xactly 
 loike this here job. Carn't we do it 'athout cracking the crib ; let's step un 
 at Crossferry — eh — there 'ull be ne'er a soul to help un, an we can black our 
 faces." 
 
 " You're a greater natural nor I thought you," said Dennis with a sneer 
 " Don't you know—'' " A'll tell 'e something wi' a clink o' your head, Muster 
 Dennis," replied the angry fellow, rising at what he considered the insult, and 
 slapping a fist about the colour and size of a shoulder of mutton on the 
 table, " who do you go to call nat'rals, cos they doan't think all along of 
 you, and doan't loike to put their necks i' the halter, and mischief them folks 
 as never meddled wi' them. I woan't do no harm nayther to th' ould man 
 nor his wench; but a' woan't say as much as a' woan't do it thee, if — " 
 
 " Stash* this here, Roger," interposed the others ; " if you don't like the 
 job, you needn't make a shine." 
 
 " Oh," said Dennis, " who knew the personal prowess of Roger well 
 enough, yet was equally aware of his influence over him ; " I'm danged if ever 
 I saw anybody yet so snappish as you grow ; who the devil ever talked about 
 doing a mischief to either on 'em. I don't know," said he, winking at his 
 comrades, " whether I shall have anything to do with the job myself, on 
 second thoughts ; which they says is best. Roger, give us thy paw ;" the 
 good-natured fellow did so ; " an' if what I said sticks in thy throat, wash 
 it down wi' a horn o' beer.'" The beer was called for and dispatched, and 
 after a short pause Dennis again opened his battery. 
 
 " Well, lads, as I've told you afore, this ain't no common catch ; I know 
 summut o' the way of finding out these here things, d'ye see — I warn't in 
 Lunnun all they years for nothiuk." 
 
 Dennis's London experience was always alluded to whenever he had a mind 
 to impress his companions with a due sense of his superiority. 
 
 ■* As I said afore, its in Lunnun as a man gets awake to these here things. 
 Well, I finds out — no matter how," and here he again winked his one eye 
 mysteriously, " as the ould man has drawed a power o' goold from Squire 
 Sturton's ; I have heered as its sumwhere to the tune of five hundred 
 pounds." 
 
 * Put a stop to , cease. 
 
134 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 He paused, after deliberately uttering the sum, as if to read the effect of its 
 announcement in the faces of his auditors. He was not disappointed : thev 
 looked one at the other in astonishment. 
 
 " Five hundred pounds !" repeated Roger, as if taxing his powers of calcu- 
 lation to take in the amount ; " why, darn it, that 'ud 'mount to two hundred 
 apiece, or thereaway :" and he commenced a perplexing notation of units on 
 his fingers. 
 
 " Yes," repeated Dennis ; " five hundred pounds, in red gold, mark you ; 
 and it's to be had for asking: but we mustn't smash the door in, eli Roger?"' 
 said Dennis sarcastically, as he looked at the brown study in which the rustic 
 was involved. Roger either did not comprehend, or heeded not the sneer. 
 
 Ready assents were given by the other two ; and, after some further con- 
 versation, the pitcher was refilled, and the party broke up at midnight. On 
 parting Dennis said — 
 
 " Now, mind my trustys, this very coming night we meet at Forster's Gap 
 at twelve — you know the rest ; and, if you behave like trumps, you're made 
 men for life." 
 
 The slant rays of a clear moon streamed through the snow-white curtains 
 of a little bedroom, and fell upon the features of a venerable old man, who 
 slept quietly and profoundly. Beside stood a swarthy villain, who, pistol in 
 hand, scrutinisingly surveyed his features by the aid of a dark lantern, the 
 gleam of which, as he unclosed its slide, he passed suddenly across the sleeper's 
 face. The examination seemed satisfactory; and, turning the lantern around 
 the apartment, he singled out a small polished escritoire of dark wood, which 
 formed the upper part of an old-fashioned chest of drawers. Stealthily and 
 on tiptoe, he crossed the room. A severe and narrow examination of each 
 fastening seemed somewhat to disappoint him. Directing an anxious look 
 towards the bed, he drew from his pocket a small heavy hammer, the handle 
 as well as the head of which were formed of iron. The implement was of that 
 description known among mechanics as a shcep'sfoot, from its handle having 
 at its end a sharp-edged wrench, split like the foot of the useful domestic 
 animal from which the implement derived its name. Silently he prised it, but 
 the stout fastenings yielded not ; again and again did he strain it. He paused, 
 muttering curses on the artisan who had framed so obstinate a lock. 
 
 " Swearing won't open locks, though," said he in a low voice. 
 
 Another and more violent wrench was given, and with a smart report a 
 splinter of the stout hard walnut-tree flew from the edge of the lid. Perspi- 
 ration stood on the forehead of the burglar as he paused and again looked 
 anxiously towards the bed — the clothes moved, and the old man woke. Dennis 
 stood back in the shade of the curtain, and placed his hand on a pistol in his 
 breast. 
 
 " Who's there V asked old Bevis. 
 
 Dennis held his breath to preserve the silence, and waited in expectation of 
 the old man again composing himself to sleep. Old Bevis, however, was 
 thoroughly awakened : he listened — the thought of the charge he had sug- 
 gested itself. A minute or two of anxious suspense was followed by Dennis 
 again venturing to move; and the first rustle of his footfall was the signal 
 for old Bevis, who held the handle of the bell at his bed's-head, to ring it. 
 violently. 
 
 " D — n !" exclaimed the ruffian. Dashing the curtains aside, he dragged 
 the old man out upoi the floor. " Silence, or by G — d I'll brain von. 
 
 3& 
 
DICK TUHPIN. 125 
 
 Old Be\is fell on his knees supphcatingly. At this instant a shrill scream 
 from below assailed his ear. 
 
 " As you hope for mercy in another world," he exclaimed franticly, " harm 
 not my daughter — take all I have, but oh ! " — another, but fainter scream was 
 heard ; the distracted old man, not knowing the effect of his appeal, added — 
 "Can 1 believe it? Dennis Sowton, for the love of heaven interpose — " 
 
 "What!" said the ruffian sternly, whom tins recognition seemed to para- 
 lyze for the instant, "you know me, do you?" 
 ' "Yes, I—" 
 
 The unhappy old man spoke no more — the heavy weapon of the murderer 
 descended on his grey head, and crashing through bone and brain, he fell a 
 gasping corse at the villain's feet. Dennis, ruffian as he was, stood appalled ; 
 — he gazed at the body as it lay in the cold moonlight — a deep groan burst 
 from its breast — he put his hands before his eyes, as if to collect himself; 
 at this moment a noise was heard on the stairs. 
 
 " Stop her ! " exclaimed the voice of Roger, from whom his charge had escaped ; 
 and Esther, who from below had heard the death-groan of her parent, rushed 
 wildly into the room, and threw herself on the body of her murdered father! 
 Roger and one of the men who had watched below, followed her. Dennis 
 stared at the new comers with a half-stupified look; the appearance of Esther 
 momentarily unnerved him ; he was, however, spared small time for consider- 
 ation. 
 
 "Thee dom'd villain,'' said Roger — but before he had time to utter another 
 word, Dennis had disappeared from the scene, and leaving the house, was 
 hastening across the country with a speed that nought but mortal fear could 
 have imparted. His companions, base as they were, looked pityingly, first at 
 the scene, and then doubtfully at each other. 
 
 " We shall some on us swing for this, I'm thinking," said Roger. "For 
 myself, I'll leave these parts as quick as my legs 'ull carry me. 'A wish *a 
 could do summut to help the poor cretur, but that 'ud be slipping our own 
 necks into the cord. So here goes — " and the poacher left the room, fol- 
 lowed by his comrades. 
 
 Hours elapsed--the sun rode high in the heavens; yet still and insensible 
 on the floor of that chamber of death, lay the fair girl, pale as the snow-white 
 night-dress in which she was attired, and corpse-like as the white-haired man 
 who slept the long and ghastly sleep of death in her relaxed embrace ; one 
 taper arm, white as monumental alabaster, encircled the neck of her parent ; 
 and her hand lay unshrinking and unconscious, dabbled in the pale bright gore ; 
 on his breast lay her head, and a torrent of fair hair, escaped from the slight 
 band which confined it, glittered in the sunbeams as it fell into the pool of 
 blood below. 
 
 Bright and joyous was the scene without this cottage of death and woe. 
 The flowers smelt fragrantly, the little birds twittered from its eaves, and even 
 within, the pet canary made the desolate home of its orphan mistress musical 
 with its song. Nature looked brightly on that mournful spot, as if to tell 
 poor perishing man the eternity of his Creator, and to bring home to his heart 
 the conviction, how like a dream his memory shall vanish, and his place he 
 no more found ; how like a shadow he shall pass away from the face of that 
 earth he so arrogantly calls his own. 
 
 We have before mentioned a servant girl, who formed one in the household 
 of old Bevis. It is time we should notice her. On the first entrv of the 
 
1'26 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 burglars, one of the men, after compelling her to rise from her bed, had thrust 
 her into a small wood-closet adjoining the kitchen, and there, after the most 
 dreadful threats of instant death, should she give the slightest alarm, he fast- 
 ened the door upon her. Here, in darkness and in terror, did poor Mary pass 
 several trembling hours, ere she could resolve to endeavour an escape. Her 
 irresolution might not have lasted so long, but when once terror has seized 
 the mind, the slightest and most absurd circumstances are capable of increasing 
 or prolonging it. Now it so happened that the robbers had not, like good 
 boys ought to do, shut the door after them ; indeed, their precipitate retreat 
 had so far detracted from their characteristic politeness, as to have rendered 
 them, in this instance at least, unmindful of one of the little courtesies of life. 
 The bad hinge of Mr. Shandy's door has been celebrated by Sterne, and that 
 creaking hinge had its fellow in the door of Mary's kitchen. Now it is known 
 to most students in natural philosophy, that one of the properties of doors is 
 to swing backwards and forwards in the breeze, when left unfastened ; and 
 that such swinging, though anything but pleasant, is nothing very terrifying 
 taken per se. Nevertheless, to a panic-struck young female, locked up in a 
 dark closet, and assimilating each noise to the stealthy tread of some sanguin- 
 ary cut-throat, a creaking door may possibly "grate'' something worse than 
 even " harsh thunder ;" and so it was with poor Mary, who would doubtless 
 not have ventured forth, had not a friendly gust, somewhat harder than the 
 rest, lodged the door in such a position as to prevent its further vibrations ; 
 some quarter of an hour after which Mary ventured a push, and encouraged by 
 that, another, until she was once more free. 
 
 Peering fearfully into the parlour, where all appeared undisturbed, she next 
 repaired to her mistress's bedroom, and finding it also untenanted, she crept 
 cautiously up stairs. The nearest apartment was that used by old Bevis as a 
 library, and writing or reading room: here, too, notning had been n eddied 
 with. Mary felt herself encouraged by having met with nothing as yet of an 
 alarming nature, and stept suddenly into the only remaining chamber. What 
 was her horror at the spectacle which presented itself! Her heart seemed to 
 rise with a sudden spasm, and she was compelled to seize a chair to 
 prevent herself from falling. She gazed a moment mute and horrorstruck — 
 then, with a sense of sickness and of suffocation, she tottered to the stairs, 
 and sat down to collect herself. She soon, however, rose, and looking back 
 towards the apartment of death with an undefined feeling of superstitious 
 terror, she slowly left the house. No sooner had she cleared the porch, than 
 with a nervous panic she rushed towards the gate, and hastily unfastening it, 
 ran, with streaming hair, down the little lane which led to the high road, 
 with an intention to alarm the village. Fright, horror, and excitement lent her 
 speed ; the distance, however, was considerable, and the poor girl was nearly 
 spent with exertion, when she spied a carriage approaching her at a rapid 
 pace. She stopped beside the road for a few moments in order to recover 
 speech and breath to tell her tale of horror. A lady from its window, 
 observing her gesture and cry, ordered the driver to stop. It was Mrs. 
 Stourton, who, with two of her children, were coming, as we have before 
 mentioned, to visit the Bevises. A few incoherent sentences from the panting 
 girl made Mrs. Stourton acquainted with the dreadful occurrences, with the 
 addition of the murder of Esther to that of her venerable father. After some 
 consideration, the horrorstruck friend of Esther, taking the terrified maiden 
 into her carriage, drove at speed towards the rectory, whose occupant was ?*k© 
 
DJCK TURPIN. 127 
 
 a magistrate. He communicated with Sir Albert Denistoun; and so rapidly 
 did the news fly, that within a few hours the whole county was aroused in 
 pursuit of the miscreants. 
 
 The arrival of a surgeon, and the proper authorities, soon showed the real 
 state of the affair. Esther was conveyed senseless from the scene of death to 
 the mansion of Lady Denistoun. It was long before she recovered the shock. 
 She woke, it is true, but not to consciousness — happy for her that she did 
 not ; not even a trace of the horrid scene seemed written on her memory ; a 
 »ow muttering delirium, in which the care of her birds or her flowers seemed 
 her constant topic, was varied with imaginary converse wilh her pareut, of 
 whose dreadful death she seemed unconscious; occasionally her thoughts 
 seemed to take a different direction, and her attendants — amongst the most 
 assiduous of whom were Mrs. Stourton and Lady Denistoun — were shocked 
 and perplexed by continual allusions to her husband, coupled with, to them 
 unintelligible, fancies of a felon's death. 
 
 For several days did she thus linger : towards the evening of the fifth 
 day, the medical man having abstracted a quantity of blood, she fell into a 
 deep sleep, and awoke refreshed. In the last stage of weakness, reason had 
 now resumed its throne ; and, after thanking her two kind friends for their 
 attention, she expressed a hope that her husband had been written for. A 
 cold shudder came over her as she alluded to the dreadful death of her parent ; 
 then collecting herself by an effort, as if to perform some high duty, she 
 desired that Sir Albert, or some other gentleman who might be proper to 
 receive her statement, might be called. 
 
 " It is my dying deposition/' said she faintly to Madeline, " I feel it to be a 
 duty I owe to my murdered father — to — to disclose his murderer. Madeline, I 
 shall never live to return your kindness ; I am going from this world of woes 
 to a brighter sphere ; yet pray that I may be spared to see my husband be- 
 fore I die." 
 
 Madeline endeavoured to reassure her ; but Esther, casting aside hope, 
 looked steadily and almost joyously towards the prospect of that unknown 
 world, at which sages and heroes have in their last hour shrunk inwardly 
 appalled. 
 
 Sir Albert, with the reverend magistrate before spoken of, were quickly in 
 attendance, and the deposition duly made out, wherein Esther positively iden- 
 tified Dennis Sowton as the man who with weapon in hand had been seen by 
 her to stand over the corse of her murdered father. 
 
 This disclosure gave new vigour to the pursuit; yet, although they suc- 
 ceeded in apprehending Roger, the mere fact of whose absconding occasioned 
 h s capture in a distant part of the country, Dennis still remained undiscovered. 
 
 Meantime Turpin, to whom the dreadful tidings had been communicated, 
 hastened from town. On his arrival at Lady Denistoun's, on the evening of 
 tin 1 fifth day, an affecting interview took place: it may easily be supposed 
 what was its nature ; it is therefore unnecessary we should record it. The 
 most forcible appeals were made, and the most solemn promises given of an 
 amended life; and Esther appeared calmer and better than she had hitherto 
 been. All congratulated him on the prospect of the approaching recovery of 
 his wife. 
 
 The pursuing parties had returned unsuccessful, and Dick, burning with 
 abhorrence and indignation at the dastardly Dennis, set out with a determin- 
 ation of leaving no exertion untried for his discovery, to which he rightly 
 
■IW DICK TURPIN. 
 
 flattered himself, though he was silent on this head, none other possessed so 
 good a clue. , 
 
 But the deceitful hectic which glowed on the cheek of Esther was like the 
 flickering light in a charnel-house, only the signal of the still blacker darkness 
 to succeed. Still she was cheerful, and was evidently supporting a struggle 
 with decaying nature, to prevent the pain her illness inflicted on her sorrowing 
 friends. The remains of her father were consigned to the grave, but from 
 the hour of the disclosure above-stated, the unrepining victim rapidly sunk ; 
 and ere one short month had elapsed, the mother and her still-born babe 
 followed her murdered sire to that peaceful home, where the "wicked cease 
 from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 For good acts Conscience seats 
 The mind in a rich throne of endless quiet — 
 But being clogged with guilt, its evil deedi 
 Like leaden freights still .sink it as it soars, 
 And plunge it deep in horror. Conscience, stained. 
 Is like a fretting ulcer that corrodes 
 The part infected. There's no punishment 
 Like that to bear the witness in one's breast 
 pf perpetrated evils when the mind 
 Beats it with silent stripes, with whips of steel, 
 And scourges it with scorpions. 
 
 The Microcosm, by Tlioe. Nabbes, 1037 
 
 — Let me go ! 
 Art thou there, traitor ! Oh 
 For a little breath to vent my rage ! 
 Give, give me way, and let me loose upon him. 
 
 — Yes, I deserve it for my ill-timed truth. 
 Was it for me to prop the ruins 
 Of thy fallen reputation 1 
 To place myself beneath the mighty flaw, 
 Thus to be crushed and pounded into atoms 
 By:itso'erwhelming weight. 'Tis too presuming; 
 For humble knaves to keep that virtue 
 Which brings its own destruction. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 We will now turn to follow the steps of the murderer 
 
 On rushing from the scene of his crime, Dennis had thrown from him, into 
 a shallow pond near the house, the implement with which he had perpetrated 
 the murder. This had since been discovered, and was preserved as evidence 
 against the criminal. 
 
 Taking his way across the country, the flying wretch slacked not his sneaking 
 and tortuous course by ditch and copse, until the setting sun gave signal of 
 approaching night. With the cessation of his bodily exertion, and the failing 
 of his physical energies, came the thought of the horrors of approaching dark- 
 ness. Darkness ami solitude ! the hardened ruffian shrunk as he looked on 
 the setting orb of day, as if, with his departure, fled the last stay and support 
 of his animal courage. He looked on the earth, the glowworm in the hedge 
 transformed itself into the cold, dull, ghastly eye of a corpse ; and his 
 fevered imagination furnished out the rest of its lineaments. Yes! there it 
 lay, stark and bloody! He closed his eyes-^it was still before him. He 
 lav down— it was there. H3 tried to reason himself into a belief that it 
 
DICK TITRPIN. 
 
 129 
 
 The Capture of Ddiinij by tYnvt and Turpbi. 
 
 was delusion. He buried his face in the damp grass — it was beneath ! he 
 turned and gazed upwards ; for a moment the appalling vision melted into 
 air, and he breathed freely — he beheld the moon moving in her majesty, and 
 the stars shining in their brightness; but anon, the planets furnished eyes to 
 the ghastly stare of his victim, and the still cold visage ot the ol 1 man, dab- 
 bled in gore, eclipsed the face of material nature. He started to his feet, 
 and shading his aching eyes, staggered a few yards without knowing whither 
 he bent his steps. He looked on the fields — each pollarded tree assumed some 
 fantastic or horrid form. He walked hastily onward, as if striving by bodily 
 exertion to shake off the cold fear which struck like a bolt of ice even to his 
 very heart. Fatigue forbad his further progress, and he looked around with a 
 shudder as he pursued a path leading to a barn, which he now saw at a short 
 distance before him. The door was secured only by a latch — he entered; 
 and, after a short examination, threw himself on some hay. He slept ; if 
 sleep that can be called when the tormented spirit beats madly in the prison 
 of the brain. 
 
 He dreamt. Again did that white-haired venerable man kneel before him; 
 again did he inflict the crushing blow ; the features changed in their dying 
 contortion — and before him lay, the corse of Esther! 
 
 A change came o'er the spirit of kis dream ; 
 
 be sat heavily ironed on a dungeon-floor; grinning faces of blood-red demons 
 gibed at him, as they danced with demoniac glee around the ever-present 
 corse of the old man ; the bell tolled — he was led forth to execution ; the 
 upturned faces of a thousand spectators met his gaze as he mounted to the 
 No. 17. 
 
130 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 fatal tree — but not one look of sympathy ; and, as he looked on them, the 
 features of each face in that staring crowd gradually assumed a resemblance 
 to those of the murdered old man He felt the hangman's fingers busy at his 
 neck ; the cord tightened — his brain swam — and, with starting eyes, and a 
 gasp that seemed to burst his bosom, the wretch awoke. He raised himself 
 on one arm, and stared around him ; cold perspiration bedewed him, and 
 seemed to penetrate his very bones. He rose — further rest he dared not try ; 
 and again set forward on his journey. 
 
 There is a fatality by which criminals seem chained to spots which would 
 seem to all but themselves most dangerous. And this fascination, like that of 
 the heedless moth who perils its brief existence by the candle's flame, may be 
 only another illustration of the great truth of nature's poet, that 
 
 and that 
 
 Murder, tho' it hath no tongue, 
 
 Will speak with most miraculous organ ; 
 
 There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
 Rough-hew them how we will. 
 
 This fatality, or whatever your metaphysicians may please to term it, 
 led Dennis to direct his steps to London ; the great vortex which absorbs both 
 virtue and crime ; which hides, amidst its ocean of humanity, alike the good 
 and the evil actions of man ; which shadows in its human forest alike the 
 good deeds of virtue and the crimes of monsters ; the retreat of struggling 
 poverty, and the home of splendid villany. To London he bent his way ; and 
 toil-worn, travel-spent, and hungered, lurking till friendly night threw 
 its shadows around, he stealthily crept into a low publichouse, after disguising 
 himself as far as his means would permit, on the evening of the sixth day from 
 his leaving Sleaford. 
 
 Meantime our hero, as we have seen, had hastened to the metropolis ; 
 rightly judging, from the unsuccessful result of the search which had been 
 instituted in the neighbouring districts by persons well acquainted with the 
 vicinity, that the fugitive would most probably seek concealment in the "great 
 city of refuge." The most careful enquiries were unavailingly instituted on 
 the road ; and his search had been prosecuted with the energy and perseverance 
 which marked his character for several days previous to Dennis's arrival. 
 
 We have before had several occasions to remark the close intimacy existing 
 between the officers of justice and known criminals. The former frequented 
 the same places of resort as the latter, and we find, from the life of Jonathan 
 Wild, the disclosures of Mr. Hinchman, the city marshal,* and other contem- 
 poraneous publications, that this intercourse existed to an extent which, to 
 those who are acquainted only with modern police, must be wholly incompre- 
 hensible, if not incredible. 
 
 On his arrival, therefore, Turpin hastened to the White Hart, and having 
 retired to a private room, despatched a messenger to the house of our old 
 acquaintance Ferret, requ«sting him to immediately favour him with a confi- 
 dential interview; a few minutes brought that worthy, who happened to 
 be still in bed, to the appointment. 
 
 • These, and many other works of the early part of the seventeenth century, display 
 a curious picture of this mutual understanding. In " A Trip to London," 12mo, 
 172 1, in the British Museum, we find a list of the coffeehouses, and the characters of 
 their frequenters ; after enumerating some twenty or thirty, the writer says—" Let the 
 country visitor avoid the taps of Stacey Street* and Drury, where cozeners, thieves, 
 rogues, and their doxies do most resort, and the officers of the justices are found — 
 knaves, who do profit largely by the pillage of the thieves, as the last do bv the ^ ; " •" 
 of -the countryfolk." 
 
DICK TURP1N. 131 
 
 A bumper of stiff Jamaica having been swallowed by Mr. Ferret, as " a 
 morning," that important personage took a seat ; and preparing himself 
 by a hem and a hawk, and two or three twitches of the cross-barred pudding 
 which encircled his plethoric neck, observed : — 
 
 " Well, Mister Dick, what's the go now ? summut serns by yer meloncholly 
 phiz — eh? Curtis go I dropt inter last night at Bob Redding the buzman's: 
 you've seen a tall, queer, lanky, wide-o sort of a chap, as I used to — " 
 
 " I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Ferret,'' said Dick ; " but perhaps, 
 when you've heard what I have to tell you, you'll guess I'm not in the humour 
 for talking ; it's a murder, and that the most horrid, upon which I have sent 
 for you to consult with me." 
 
 Mr. Ferret immediately put on the countenance which he was wont to wear 
 when giving evidence before their worships ; which, from its grotesque ex- 
 pression of gravity and concern — contradicted by the cunning- twinkle of his 
 little grey eye — we shall call his official ot police-office phiz; and composed 
 himself with an air of solemnity to listen to Turpin's communication. 
 
 As our hero proceeded with his brief narrative, which he gave with all the 
 energy and excitement of his nature, Ferret was once or twice uneasily affected ; 
 he fidgetted — rose from his seat — fumbled the head of his twisted stick — and 
 scarcely gave the narrator time to conclude before he exclaimed — 
 
 " You've said enow, my good fellow — give us your hand : d — n it, but I'm 
 glad you'd the thought to tip me the office in this here affair ; old Jack 
 Ferret's your man ; I knows the ill-looking, vun-eyed, cut-throat varment : 
 it's the like as he as brings disgrace on purfessional gemmen. I al'ays thought 
 him a savage hound, but I'd not reckoned as he'd cum to two hundredweight* 
 so soon : there vos gallus though, in his looks ; leastvays, in the eyes of they 
 as knows a thing or two ; and 'mong them sort o' people I reckons ould Jack 
 Ferret. Let that pass, howsomever, and take my advice ; don't let nobody 
 know in Lunnun as you're on this scent, nor nothin' else about this ; I'll 
 write down a few 'ticulars o' this consarn, and guv it i' the proper quarter, vereby 
 I shall serve both myself and the inds o' justice, d'ye see — eh? don't hallo 
 about this here or you'll frighten the birds. It's a shockin' job though,'' said 
 Ferret, having concluded the professional part of his advice; "shockin' as 
 ever I heerd on. Poor ould genelman ! It's a sarvice ve owes to society, 
 Mister Turpin — a sarvice ve owes to vun another, to bring such villins to the 
 halter. Maybe you'd be so kind as to guv us these 'ticulars in black and wite, 
 as I can't crack much o' myself in the way of writin', d'ye see." 
 
 Turpin complied ; and Mr. Ferret, after many other expressions of condo- 
 lence, promises of vigilance, and queries by which to guide his endeavours at 
 discovering Dennis, took his leave; and making his way towards Westminster, 
 had the honour and credit of communicating at the chief office the first intelli- 
 gence of the murder, and receiving the warrant for the apprehension of the 
 perpetrators, whoever they might be : for, of course Mr. Ferret, with his usual 
 caution and assumption of mystery, did not choose to reveal all he knew, or 
 his means for pursuing the inquiry, further than by allusions to, and hints of 
 his almost superhuman sagacily. 
 
 For two days and nights was a strict but fruitless watch kept on the lodgings 
 of Madge Dutton. At the end of that time Mr. Ferret, who had several times 
 held communications with Dick, resolved upon honouring Mrs. Margaret with 
 
 • The reward, iu atrocious cases, then usually offered by the Secretary of State. 
 
132 DICK TURFIN. 
 
 a call. After the occurrences related in our eleventh chapter, it may be sup- 
 posed that Lewkner's Lane had become too hot to hold her; and she had novr 
 shifte.l her "beat"' to the neighbourhood of Whiteehapel. Mr. Ferret, ac- 
 cordingly, alter a communication with his follower, from whom he learnt that 
 she had not yet left her home — such as it was — walked deliberately down the 
 opposite side of the street. A dirty muslin half-curtain rendered objects indis- 
 tinctly visible from the other side the way; a dim candle burnt in the room, 
 and by the shadow cast on the ceiling, Mr. Ferret could perceive that Madge 
 was busily engaged at her toilette, which she was making by a glass laid on 
 the table at the window : he could make out pretty well her various movements ; 
 she was certainly nearly dressed, and was now engaged in the arrangement of 
 her hair. Another shadow passed on the ceiling ; but, whether that of a man 
 or woman, was not discoverable. Ferret gave a low whistle, and his follower 
 approached him. 
 
 " Run up to the ' Lion'," said he in a low voice, " and send Bill Johnson 
 to me." 
 
 The man obeyed, and another officer joined Ferret. 
 
 " This is a desperate slasher, Bill, as I'm goin' to grab," said Ferret ; " and 
 I mustn't give no change avay ; so, do you vait on the mounter* vile I goes 
 in, if so be I can do it vithout a crack ;t and ven I cries 'Var hawks,' do 
 you show yevself. Is yer irons primed ?" 
 
 Bill answered in the affirmative ; and Mr. Ferret — buttoning his coat, then 
 feeling in his breast, and giving that sort of long inspiration which men are 
 wont to do when going on some exploit which requires determination and 
 courage — slapped his hat tightly on his head, and quickly but noiselessly 
 entered the house. Mounting the stairs two at a time on the points of his 
 feet, he suddenly turned the handle of the door, which was not otherwise 
 fastened, and stood in the apartment of Madge Duttoii. A half-dressed female, 
 who was engaged in lacing the stays of Madge, gave a faint scream of surprise, 
 nnd the latter turned in astonishment. Ferret, without uttering a word, 
 looked searchingly and cunningly round the room : there was nothing denoting 
 the occupation of the apartment by a man. No article of wearing apparel, 
 save those belonging to its female occupants, was to be perceived — not even a 
 stick, or any other questionable trace, could he see. On the table before- 
 mentioned, beneath the window, lay a fragment of a looking-glass, of a shape 
 which would puzzle a geometrician to designate. It had once formed a portion 
 of a larger mirror ; and now, propped slantingly against an old brass candle- 
 stick, its surface specked with unreflective spots, occasioned by rubbing off. 
 the silvering, did duty at the dirty toilette of Madge and her fellow-lodger. 
 On the dingy deal table lay a collection of appliances which would have per-. 
 plexed a fine lady to apply to their several uses. Half a dozen of japanned 
 hair-pins, and some soaped and floured bunches of hair, soiled ribbons, a broken 
 comb and filthy brush, lay there. A small pasteboard box, the crazy sides 
 of which would have parted company but for the threaden ligaments wound 
 round it, exhibited several small lumps of red-looking chalk, intermingled with 
 little balls of whiting ; Dutch pink, for so was the cheap pigment styled, and 
 domestic whiting, procured in ha'porths from the nearest huckster's, being the 
 onlv false colour now procurable by Madge or her companion. Mr. Ferret 
 took all this in at a glance. Closing the door and fastening it, he made a 
 bow of mock politeness, and thus spoke : — 
 
 * Staircase. t Forcible entry. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 13J 
 
 a Don't be frightened, ladies ; no intention to be rude. Needn't be so 
 modest, Missis Dutton ; you ain't the first women by some hundreds as old 
 Jack Ferret have seen not quite drest for company. Beg pardon, I'm sure, 
 but it's business I've corned on." 
 
 Madge's companion looked at her as much as to say, " Shall I leave the 
 room ? " 
 
 " P'raps we could talk it over better 'tween our two selves — eh, Missis 
 Margaret ? " said Ferret, assuming an air of great familiarity. 
 
 * Well, then, I'll leave you two together," said Madge's fellow lodger, and 
 hastily gathering up her gown, stockings, shoes, &c, she left the room and 
 went upstairs to finish her toilet in the apartment of a sister unfortunate. 
 
 Mr. Ferret and Madge had a long confab. The officer held out to her 
 great hopes in the event of her furnishing such information as might lead to 
 Dennis's apprehension. Madge, however, could not very well enlighten him, 
 inasmuch as she most assuredly knew nothing of the affair herself. She had 
 been for some time in expectation of hearing something regarding Dennis, 
 whom she had not seen since the hour he left her senseless from her 
 contest with Moll Rhodes, in Lewkner's Lane. Her feeling towards Dennis 
 had never deserved the name of attachment. It had been one of circumstance 
 and convenience, and now, the information which Ferret had just given her 
 was repaid by a full statement of the cause of the death of Moll Rhodes, by 
 which Mr. Ferret became possessed of the means of identifying the perpetrator 
 of another murder. He saw the great advantage he had acquired, and in the 
 excess of his joy and generosity he drew forth some coin, and protested he 
 would " stand summut handsome ; " nay, he went so far as to bestow 
 sundry kisses and gentle slaps on Madge, who merely made that short show of 
 offence followed by a laugh, which is always interpreted as encouragement. They 
 were getting on the best possible terms, when a smart knock at the door 
 stopped Mister Ferret's dalliance. 
 
 "I say, old buck,'' exclaimed the voice of Bill Johnson, "when next you 
 want to visit your woman, don't send for me to mount guard at the door, that's 
 all," and the steps of his comrade were heard descending the stairs. 
 
 " Confound it, Moggy," said old Ferret, jumping up and unfastening the 
 small bolt beneath the latch, " I'd forgot Bill was there. D — n the bolt. 
 Holloa, Bill! Here—" 
 
 " Well,'' replied the runner, who had gone but a few stairs down, " you 
 don't want me any further, do you ? You're a werry nice old gemman, I 
 don't think, to bring me out to wait on this here dark ladder, while you does 
 the loving vith another cove's doxy. I'se ashamed on you, Mr. F., v continued 
 he, chaffing. " I wos jist a-goin' to drop in on the old woman at home, and 
 let her know a summut ; give her the lady's address, or so. D'ye twig, old 
 nosey — eh ? '' 
 
 By this time Mr. J. had walked himself back into the room where Madge 
 and Ferret were. He winked to the former, then bowed, hat in hand, to the 
 latter. 
 
 " Hope I han't spil'd sport ; wouldn't wish to interrupt anything as my 
 friend Mr. Ferret might — " 
 
 " Stow yer whid, you chaffing wagabone, will yer ? " said Ferret, " and 
 listen, if you can keep that d— d rig o' your's to yerself foi half a minnit. I've 
 been on bisness vith this lady," and the old fellow grinned and leered, as if 
 willing his words should be misconstrued. 
 
134 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Dessay ; no doubt on it," interposed Bill, laughing. 
 
 " I haven't told you afore, but I've every reason to believe, from inform- 
 ation I have got o' this lady, might be the means of you and me doing the job 
 tidily, by convicting the wagabone as murdered Moll Rhodes, done two or three 
 months agonc. I know as the crowner returned a verdict of nateral death ; 
 but that's nothink, cos I can get people as 'ull swear that down. Veil, this 
 here good looking lady has guv other information, and as it's as veil for us to 
 run in kipples, as far as vecan, I'm going, Bill, to make you my partner in 
 this here job. So, if you've a mind to do the thing as is right, you shall hear 
 all on it, over a drop of the righteous sort. Jist call up Stevy, who's a visitor 
 outside ; he'll fetch the lot." 
 
 This arrangement, however, was at once overthrown by the apropos appear- 
 ance of Madge's companion, who had been listening on the stairs on hearing 
 the arrival of another man. 
 
 " Did you call me, Margaret?" enquired she, entering, having now completed 
 her attire. " If you want anything fetched, I'll go for it," added she, looking 
 significantly at her companion. 
 
 Mr. Ferret was not so green as not to be awake to this manoeuvre. 
 J' It's all very veil," said he, shaking his head and laughing, "to come that 
 ere over the sappy vuns, but that cock von't fight here, my pretty vun. I 
 pays for vot I likes, as a purfessional man ; but vot I don't git I doesn't tip 
 for, d'ye see. No, no, you mustn't try it on for no cull-money* at this shop, 
 my sveetest." 
 
 " This is Mr. Ferret, an old friend of mine, 'Till,'' interposed Madge, who 
 saw that the lady was about to give anything but the retort courteous. " He's 
 a hofficer, old gal, and so's his friend ; ( Miss 'Till's manner changed,) and he's 
 a very good chap too. I don't like to impose on good nature," said Madge ; 
 and without further objection, Mr. Ferret's follower being called up, he was 
 dispatched for liquor. Miss Till did the amiable to Bill Johnson, who couldn't 
 do less than stand his " fire ; " then the two worthies tossed who should stand 
 the next round ; and finally, they adjourned to a neighbouring public-house, 
 from the bar of which, after treating Madge and her companion, they departed 
 westward. 
 
 It was a dull cloudy evening. As Madge was picking her way along the 
 Whitechapel Road, for the day had been a rainy one, she observed a decently 
 dressed man coming towards her ; she accosted him, and he stopped. A beggar 
 who had been skulking under a gateway came up to them, as they conversed 
 beneath a lamp. The man was crippled of one leg, the knee of which rested 
 on a wooden crutch; he wore a tattered sailor's jacket, with the plaited petti- 
 coat, then common to all classes of seamen, canvass trowsers, and his left eye 
 was hidden by a huge black patch. Uncovering himself, he displayed a strong 
 and plentiful crop of grey hair, and humbly solicited the gentleman's charity. 
 " Pray, your honour, be so merciful as to bestow a trifle on an old seaman 
 as has lost his precious limbs, and more preciouser eyesight, in the sarvice of 
 his king and country. I sailed seventeen years with the great Sir Cloudesley 
 Shovel ; likevise the noble Sir George Rooke, at the siege of Giberaltar, 
 vhere — " 
 
 • Profit obtained by the keepers of houses of ill fame, by retaining 1 the change of 
 moneys sent out for liquors, by enhancing the price of the same, or by bringing a 
 eliort quantity. 
 
DICK TURP1N. 235 
 
 Madge was vexed at the interruption, and hastily said, " Give the poor 
 fellow something, and let him begone.'' 
 
 The gentleman, turning from the supplicant, thrust his hand in his pocket 
 in search of some coppers. The extraordinary behaviour of the beggar attracted 
 the attention of Madge, as he slunk a little behind the gentleman, and stared 
 witn his single eye at her intensely ; then, coughing slightly, he said in a 
 different voice, 
 
 " I'sewell known, yer honour, by the bold Captain Naylor ; and his dis- 
 charge vith a 'stificate, vot I received ven — " 
 
 Malge recognized the voice ; and the gentleman having now given some 
 halfpence to the pretended sailor, Madge told him, in a tone of feigned anger, 
 to leave them, at the same time making him a sign of recognition. Dennis, 
 for he it was, hobbled off to a spot where he could command a view of the 
 road, and yet screen himself from observation. 
 
 In a few moments Madge joined him. During the day she had been exer- 
 cising her ingenuity a thousand ways in devising plans to effect what now 
 seemed thrown into her way. A conviction that events were fast bringing 
 her and Dick together, though in what way she could not at present even 
 euess, took possession of her mind ; and to effectuate this, the removal of 
 Dennis, and the service she should renr'er to Turpin, seemed to hold out a 
 promising opportunity. Dennis was, sooth to say, in a most pitiable con- 
 dition. Conscience " that doth make cowards of us all," had joined with 
 bodilv privation, and mental exhaustion and terror, to reduce the stalwart 
 ruffian to a wretched state of weakness. His haggard countenance betrayed 
 in its deep-seamed lines an expression more repulsive than mere physical suffer- 
 ing could impart ; and the whitening, to which for the purpose of disguise he 
 had subjected his hair, in conjunction with the wasting of the last week or 
 so, would have prevented any one but those most intimate with his voice and 
 manner from recognising him. He commenced his tale of suffering to Madge— 
 who listened with feigned surprise — by a story of a desperate affray with some 
 gamekeepers, in a part of the country where he had been sojourning since his 
 unfortunate encounter in Lewkner'sLane ; which latter, of course, he attributed 
 entirely to the lengths to which his anger had carried him, as the defender of 
 Madge. The woman listened, and saw it would be wisest to conceal her 
 knowledge of anything since he had last left her. Dennis declared that 
 he would not, even after he had revenged her on her assailant, have left her, 
 had not the landlord promised his protection. 
 
 " Besides," said he, " if it was to do agin, I'd do it, Madge, rayther than 
 see you put upon by one on 'em." 
 
 They now went into a public-house, and after some further conversation, 
 Madge proposed to Dennis to accompany her to her lodging. To this, how- 
 ever, he demurred. 
 
 " No, no," said he, " there's too many noses * about they sort o' places ; 
 and you see I might get blown about Moll's bisness. This 'ull blow over 
 presently, you'll see, Madge, and I'll come out again fresh as a four-year old. 
 Hark, wasn't that a scream ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure it was. Why you look as queer and turnip-faced as a gal 
 — it's only a sing out — some shindy — or belike some bilking dodge a-going on 
 down the Fields, t '' 
 
 * Tale-tellers, blabberg. -f Goodman's Fields. 
 
136 ^u:k turpih. 
 
 •'Hark !" exclaimed Dennis, who appeared to be listening with absorbing 
 attention. " There — there was a cry of murder! There it is again." 
 
 " Well, and what if there is," said Madge, looking upon him with something 
 like disgust, " I don't s'pose as they's very particular what they sings out just 
 hereabouts." 
 
 " True, true," said Dennis, in a tone that indicated his absence of mind ; 
 "you're right, Madge ; they don't mind. I've something to tell you, and I 
 shan't be easy till — not now though. Good night — there's another scream ! 
 Damn the woman's throat. If you desire to see me, meet me here to-morrow 
 night. I'll follow you, though, to your place, for I'm weary of sleeping out 
 of doors, an' I'll be away early ; it can't signify one night, sure-ly.'' 
 
 Having made this arrangement, Madge turned through various narrow 
 courts and streets, all at that time without' even public lamps, and in a few 
 minutes reached her dwelling. Here, having admitted herself by the ingenious 
 contrivance of a knotted string, which, suspended through a hole in the door, 
 drew back the spring lock, she left the entrance open ; Dennis shortly arrived bv 
 a different route. The wretch slept that night the sleep of fatigue and weari- 
 ness. Scarcely, however, had morning dawned, whan with aching limbs and 
 fevered blood he awoke, and to the great disappointment of Madge, who had 
 lain awake part of the night revolving schemes for his betrayal, declared his 
 determination to depart immediately, while yet few persons were stirring. 
 Madge was too well aware of his cuniiing and suspicious temper to carry her 
 persuasions to stay beyond a mere request ; which, meeting with a refusal, she 
 changed her position, and feigning to agree with him as to the policy of his 
 precaution, advised him to depart — not, however, before she had arranged to 
 visit him with some sustenance at a barn in the vicinity of Bow, which had 
 for some nights been the lodging of Dennis. 
 
 He had scarcely departed when Madge leaped from her bed, and in another 
 hour was closeted with Mr. Ferret at his abode near Long Acre. Madge was 
 desirous of accompanying him on his visit to Turpin, but this Mr. Ferret, 
 from a desire of enhancing his own services, strenuously opposed. She was, 
 therefore, compelled to submit ; and according to Ferret's advice, to return as 
 quickly as possible to her lodgings, where he promised to bring our hero in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Mr. Ferret hurried out on his mission, but arrived at a most mal-apropos 
 moment for business. Ringing at the outer gate of Dick's cottage, he was 
 rather bothered, as he would have expressed it, by the delay which occurred 
 in answering it ; and when the girl did appear, her eyes were red with weep- 
 ing ; and to his enquiry whether her master was within, she replied no other- 
 wise than by guiding him to his presence. 
 
 Dick heeded not his entrance. He sat with his arms folded, and with a 
 stern expression of grief, mixed with stronger passions, in his rigid countenance, 
 severely and fixedly gazing on an opened letter, which lay before him. Ferret 
 regarded him with inquisitive surprise ; and scraping a bow, said, — 
 
 " No wish to interrupt bisness, Mr. T. ; but if so be as your sarvant had been so 
 thoughtful as to tell me you was engaged, I'd ha' waited a bit afore I took 
 upon myself — " 
 
 " There needs no apology, Mr. Ferret. If I before had a vow sworn, deep as 
 mortal hatred and revenge for those I loved best could make it, how must I 
 now feel at the murder of one' — do not start ( Mr. Ferret looked perplexed ; 
 this accumulation of murders quite staggered him ) T say murdered — 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 l."7 
 
 Black Dennis pxpo-i « T:ir 1*. 
 
 who was but too good for this world — I mean my wife, Ferret — who has beten 
 foully murdered bv the hand of the incarnate fiend who butchered her venerao 1 * 
 father." 
 
 Mr. Ferret was completely dumbfounded at this ; his matter of fact compre- 
 hension did not enable him to interpret bold figures of speech, and therefore 
 to his literal understanding, how this murder could be committed, when, as he 
 well knew, the suspected criminal was some hundred miles from the spot where 
 it was perpetrated, was totally beyond his powers of conjecture. At length h« 
 found his tongue. 
 
 "Veil ! it may be as he did it, but I can't unriddle it, for here he's bin in 
 town these three or four days; and may I be so bold as to ax ven this here 
 ros committed? 'cos I thinks he couldn't very veil have bin at that ere place 
 and in Lunnun at the same time." 
 
 Dick ans-vered him by silently handing the letter in which Madelii.e 
 communicated the sad tidings of the deatli of Esther. The officer, who was 
 no great scholar, slowly puzzled out the meaning, and having spent a few 
 moments in apparent perplexity, drawing his coat-sleeve across his eye, — for 
 his profession had onlv case-bai'dened him— he observed, 
 
 " Shockinge^t thing as ever I've lnvrd. Veil, altho' I never seed the young 
 lady, I carn't help thinkin' as I could take the life o' that ere wretch myself; 
 though it would be a disgrace on a hoffh-cr to take Jack Ketch's birth, vet, 
 sink me, if I wouldn't do for Mister Dennis afore I'd see his honour the 
 Sheriff vithout a substitute. Vy, it's downright horrid ; it'3vorse nor a play . 
 No. 18. 
 
ISO DICK TURPIN. 
 
 poor cretur ! But I knows, Mr. Richard, vere to drop on the murd'nng 
 thief; think o' that. I've got him as safe as if he vos here ;" (and Mr. Ferret 
 clutched his hand emphatically, in the style of griping a prisoner ;) "he's 
 limed, tvigged, nail'd, boned, lumbered and fixed, beyont the art o' man to 
 save him, and no mistake !" concluded he, emphatically striking his clumsy 
 hand on his thigh, by way of emphasis. 
 
 Dick stood in stern silence ; he made no sign of attending to Ferret's words, 
 though he drank them all in, and the latter ones eagerly. He walked to a 
 buffet, and drawing from it a pair of handsome pistols, carefully examined the 
 locks; having deposited them about his person, he, with that calmness which 
 ever marks a determined mind, strode towards the passage, and taking his 
 hat, beckoned Ferret. 
 
 " Rather short about it, though, ' thought the officer; " we'll have a chat 
 yet, for there's two words to the bargain ; and I don't see as the king's 
 hoSicer is to be treated as if he vas nobody." 
 
 "Pardon, Mister Turpin," continued he aloud; " but mayhap it vouldn't be 
 more nor the respect which is due to my hoffice, if you vas to tell me vot you're 
 jist now goin' after. Cos, d'ye see, the management of this here veighty affair 
 belongs to me, and my experience in this here line gives me, in course, a 
 great deal of visdom in managing 'em, so as they mayn't be made a mess on. 
 You starts off like a young colt, Mister Dick, vich is very nateral for one at 
 your time o' life ; but as ould 'tins knows as the fastest tires first, so, if you 
 pleases, ve'll go about the job arter the fashion of chaps as don't throw away 
 a chance ven they've got it." 
 
 Dick displayed much impatience during the sagacious discourse of Mr. 
 Ferret ; he, however, saw that, to effect his object, he must be content to 
 humour the importance of the thieftaker. He accordingly placed himself under 
 his direction and guidance ; and after a couple of hours of the most painful 
 suspense and irritating delay on the part of Ferret, who spent the time in 
 feeding, drinking, and gossipping, the infliction was put an end to by the 
 functionary declaring that it " vos time, seem' he vorn't the best o' valkers, 
 for 'em to cut their vood, as he should have a person ready to join 'em, vich 
 vould make the happrehension safe as a trivet." Dick, however, overruled 
 this ; and Ferret, considering that the fewer of his tribe were employed the 
 larger would be his own share, assented to his view of the matter ; especially 
 as Dick's determination to effect the apprehension was so manifestly sincere. 
 
 They set forth, and in due time reached the lodgings of Madge; Turpin 
 started when he saw her. They had not met since the scene at the cottage 
 on Plumstead common, withthe exception of the short glimpse he had obtained 
 of her on the ni^ht of the apprehension of Berry and his associates. He knew 
 n>t of her treachery, further than it related to that affair, though he had a sus- 
 picion of it as related to the former one. His gentle wife had carried to her 
 grave the secret of her knowledge of his guilty career; and Madge was now 
 scheming in what way she could expose the character of Dick, without commit- 
 ting herself, in the supposition that in his degradation and separation from his 
 wife, lay the only hope of compassing her ends. Short and unsatisfactory was 
 the interview, so far as Madge was concerned. Ferret talked a few character- 
 istic common-places ; Dick was taciturn, and looked so truly m>serab!e, yet 
 vindictive, that Madge dared not intrude upon his thoughts, and at Ferret's 
 request, led the way towards the barn, where Dennis awaited the traitress's 
 arrival with refreshment. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 139 
 
 The shades of evening were fast approaching, as an emaciated wretch was 
 seen crawlin^ from amongst some broken trusses of straw, which lay in a heap 
 in the corner of a dilapidated shed. The haggard look, the sunken yet preter- 
 naturally bright eye, the wasted flesh and shrunken features, told a tale of 
 suffering and of misery, which might excite pity for any criminal but so 
 atrocious a murderer. He walked with unsteady steps to the side of the barn, 
 then, sinking on his knees, applied his eye to a hole in the planking which 
 formed its sides, and looked intently forth from his spy-hole on the country 
 without. Long and anxiously did he gaze ; at length, sinking from his position 
 on the hay which strewed the floor, he heaved a deep groan — a groan so sad, 
 so expressive of heartache, that had it sprung from repentance, or aught but 
 selfishness, might have weighed much against even his sin. 
 
 "She's like the rest," said he, querulously; "just like the rest," and a 
 bitter curse passed his lips, for the exhaustion of his body had subdued the 
 strong ruffian to the weakness of complaining childhood. " P'raps she's right 
 not to come till it's dark ; it's a long day though, and my thoughts is no com- 
 panions. No — I'd not have believed it; I'd have laughed at it, if any one 
 'ud ha' told rue as Dennis Sowton 'ud have feared a shadow, an old wife's fancy 
 — but I've seen him — " he shuddered and looked fearfully around. " I've seen 
 him a hundred times. He comes with the dark, and lies on me with his leaden 
 face pressed closed to mine, and draws my breath as I sleep, and kneels upon my 
 chest," he drew his breath strongly at the mere thought of the dreadful night- 
 mare. " I've often laughed at people who've give themselves up for crimes ; I've 
 often gibed at piety and remorse— now I dread the night — no, I shouldn't fear it 
 hut I'm alone, and then ho comes to me, and prays me not to " His face qui- 
 vered with anguish ; he waved his hand as if to dispel some illusion from his sight, 
 and shaking his head despairingly, endeavoured to divert his thoughts, and 
 occupy his vision, by again looking forth from his place of observation. 
 
 A lon<* path lay across the flat fields which stretched towards the eastern 
 outskirts of London, and along this he expected to see the approach of 
 the bearer of the sustenance he so much needed. The sinking sun gilded the 
 brown line of the pathway which led through the bright green fields ; his glo- 
 rious orb was slowly sinking behind the spires and domes of the great city, 
 casting through the smoky vapour a blood-red beam, and his broad face seemed 
 magnified by the medium through which he shone. Dennis's attention seemed 
 suddenly attracted by some approaching object, and his looks assumed an ex- 
 pression of intense anxiety. 
 
 " Some one "s coming," muttered he to himself; " there is three of 'em ; 
 if it was but one by himself, p'raps I might relieve myself by easing him of a 
 trifle. One's a woman, and strangely like Madge too. But who's that with her? 
 Tis Ferret by G — ; and, can I b'lieve my eyes, Turpin ! How can I 'scape? " He 
 sat himself down. " I'll not try — they can but hang me ; better so than live thus,'' 
 said the desperate wretch. "Shall I sell my life? Madge too — I see it— she's 
 
 Palmer's ; that's plain ; I'll be revenged though—" He drew his trusty 
 
 knife from a small case, wherein he carried it fo'r ordinary purposes, tried hi* 
 thumb against its edge ami point, and slunk among the straw which had before 
 concealed him. "I needn't give a chance away," said he ; as if excusing to 
 himself this proceeding, so much at variance with his former declaration of 
 determination and despair. 
 
 He had scarcely effected this, when Ferret, followed bv Dick, cautiously 
 •ntered. Dennis had calculated upon «tabl>uig Madge; but now, suddenly 
 
140 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 bethinking himself of the hopelessness of escape should he do so, his lore of 
 life overthrew the resolve, and replaced it with a suggestion of the practicabilit j 
 of another plan — namely to bestow the favour on our hero instead of his para- 
 mour, and endeavour by a bold push to escape from Ferret. The two entered. 
 The officer made directly towards the spot, where Dennis lay ; this frustrated 
 his intention ; he hoped to have been approached by Dick, which would have 
 enabled him to bestow upon him the coup de grace. Ferret, grasping a huge 
 leaden-loaded bludgeon, which he thrust violently among the trusses of 
 straw where Dennis lay concealed, had already bestowed upon him some 
 smart pokes in various parts of the body ; as he proceeded he turned over the 
 straw, and though Dennis had contrived to shift a little from the spot, and 
 retreat farther into the recesses of the heap, his situation was hopeless. 
 Neither could he now see the position of his enemy. Panic terror seized him; 
 and in an attempt to rise to his feet, he suddenly exposed the upper part of 
 his person above the straw. His appearance, knife in hand, for he still almost 
 unknowingly grasped it, was the signal for the descent of Ferret's cudgel with 
 such heavy good will, as to prostrate him senseless in the hole from which he 
 had risen. It was fortunate for him that this happened, for simultaneous with 
 the blow was the discharge of a pistol from the infuriated Dk;k. The ball 
 whizzed past the very spot which had the moment before been occupied by the 
 head of Dennis. Dick followed up the action by a revengeful spring towards 
 the spot, and drawing forth his other pistol, levelled it — Ferret seized his 
 arm— 
 
 " D— n it!" cried he, "you're too hot upon it; if you wants to punish him, 
 don't put him out of his misery so soon." 
 
 The slightest check gave Turpin time to recollect himself. The sight of 
 the monster who had thus " shivered his household gods" around him ; who 
 had rendered his cheerful hearth desolate ; who had made the house of joy 
 the house of mourning ; who had left his heart a' joyless blank ; who had, 
 with his vile hand, crushed that tender flower, "ere yet her morn of bloom 
 had vvell begun," whose form and fragrance — although our hero felt them 
 unfitted for his companionship and bosom — had left a painful sting, a numbing 
 woe, in his heart ; who but at sight of the villain the figure of that vener- 
 able old man, and his heart-broken daughter, rose upon his mind, and with an 
 impulse of uncontrollable rage he sought to wreak his and their revenge. The 
 hand and speech of Ferret recalled him, and he became ashamed of the crawling 
 reptile who lay before him. Dennis slowly rose, and looked with piteous 
 supplication in his abject eye on his captors. Dick turned from him with 
 disgust and abhorrence. 
 
 " I dare not look on him," said he, returning his pistol ; " lest it should 
 make me forget myself again, and rob the gibbet of its due. I cannot 
 scold." 
 
 Ferret was busily engaged in slipping on the handcuffs, to which Dennis 
 made not the slightest resistance ; he submitted, still kneeling, with a look of 
 fear and hopeless despair, as if seeking commiseration even from the man he 
 had so deeply injured. He looked indeed 
 
 A man as bruised in spirit, 
 
 As broken-hearted, and subdued in soul. 
 A sany breathing wretch who (leenis this 6«j: 
 Can bring no darker morrow. 
 
DICK TURP1N 141 
 
 The party left the barn — Mr. Ferret expatiating, in no measured terms, on 
 what he termed his sagacity and knowledge of " human nater," as exemp'ified 
 iu the craven behaviour of their fast-bound captive — taking the whole credit 
 to himself; though it may be doubted if, singlehanded, he would have 
 been at all taken even by the renowned Mr. Ferret. Dennis, however, seemed 
 to revive— at least some sign of spirit, though it was of evil spirit, imparted 
 itself to his looks — when he spied Mrs. Madge, at some distance, evidently 
 awaiting their arrival. He cast the look of a chained tiger at his manacles, 
 and gnashed his closed teeth, indications of temper not unobserved by Mr. 
 Ferret. 
 
 " Cum, cum, Mister Cut-throat, none of that ere : Mr. T., vill you oblee^e 
 me by taking this?'' presenting a small strong cord which he had fastened to 
 the shackles of the handcuffs, and held by its other end. " Now then, sir, I 
 vould'nt wish to inconvenience yer," said Ferret sarcastically, with a wink at 
 Turpin, which the latter noticed not ; " but raly you looks so very pleasant 
 just now, as I thinks it part o' my duty to see as you don't lay yi'le t 
 hands on yerself, nor nobuddy else, more 'specially the vomen-kind.'' 
 
 While thus talking, Ferret produced a cord with a slip-knot, with which he 
 pinioned his prisoner. Madge now joined them ; but her presence rendered 
 Dennis so violent and excited that, at Ferret's request, she left the party. 
 
 The same night Ferret and his prisoner, accompanied by Turpin, who firmly 
 refused to quit Dennis until he had seen him salely lodged in gaol, set out in 
 a postchaise for Lincolnshire. The journey was tedious, though executed with 
 all the despatch possible in those days of sluggish locomotion ; and in about 
 the same time that it had taken Dennis to reach London on foot, the party, 
 putting up every night at an inn, — for no man then dreamt of posting after 
 dark, — arrived at Sleaford. 
 
 The news soon spread far and near of the apprehension of the atrocious 
 criminal ; and as the carriage passed through the streets of the little town, 
 the many-headed mob gathered like a rolling snow-ball, swelled by the 
 accession of villagers from the country around. Having alighted at the prin- 
 cipal inn, a messenger was despatched to Denistoun House, with the information 
 of the capture and arrival of the culprit. 
 
 An unexpected visitor returned with the messenger. Dick, who doggedly 
 refused to quit his post near the murderer, either by day or by night, was 
 seated in an arm chair, near the window of the apartment ; the prisoner was 
 lying on the floor at the further end of the room, with his head pillowed on a 
 cushion, a position which he had assumed in preference to an upright one, as 
 more suited to his exhausted mind and body. Mr. Ferret sat at a small table, 
 spread with a huge fragment of boiled beef, bread, a flagon of foaming ale, 
 pickles, mustard, and other condiments, to which he was paying his most 
 assiduous respects. 
 
 " Vy dont 'e do as I do ? " enquired he of Dick, who sat musing, with his 
 eyes fixed on the ground. " Vy by the time you gets to my time o' life, and 
 sees as much o' the vurld as I have, you'll say to yourself, 'veil, old Jack 
 Ferret vos right ven he — ' " 
 
 The door opened ; the lump of beef on Ferret's fork was arrested on its 
 way to his mouth; Dennis looked scowlingly at the newcomer; and Dick, 
 after a moment's steady gaze, started to his feet in surprise. 
 
 " Sir Litton Weston, as I live ! " said our hero, as if doubtful what should 
 h# the character of their salutation ; but the baronet set him at ease by advanc- 
 
142 DICK TURPI w. 
 
 ing with extended hand. Dick took the proffered mark of amity, for his re«e'tt 
 mightier woe had, "like Aaron's serpent, swallowed all the rest ;'' and hecou!n 
 not now stop to remember feelings or troubles so long past as those of Weston 
 Hall. 
 
 It appeared from the explanation of Sir Litton, that his sister had written 
 to him upon the dreadful occurrence, and had followed that by another letter 
 announcing the dangerous illness of Esther ; that family connexions— the 
 circumstance of old Bevis's business-connexions with old Sir Mark, and other 
 considerations, had brought him to his sister's house. His manner, neverthe- 
 less, was anything but frank and cordial ; and it was clear that neither of the 
 parties were anxious to prolong the interview, or render the connexion more 
 intimate. 
 
 The prisoner was soon placed in a conveyance, and amid the hootings 
 and execrations of the infuriated crowd, conveyed before the magistrates at 
 Denistoun House. 
 
 Sir Albert sat in his drawingroom in the magisterial chair ; by his side was 
 Sir Litton, who, though not of the commission of the peace for the county of 
 Lincoln, was of a rank, and had an interest in the case, which entitled him to 
 the courtesy. The circumstances of the crime were related ; the dying depo- 
 sition of Esther produced ; and the confession of Roger, which also went to 
 prove Dennis to be the actual murderer, was remarked on. The evidence 
 seemed fully sufficient for the commitment of the prisoner. Turpiu had, during 
 all the time, maintained a silent attention. Mr. Ferret was rather vexed that 
 he had not been called upon to relate the particulars of the apprehension of 
 the criminal. He therefore determined to break ground; this, however, led to 
 a scene which none present had at all calculate! upon. 
 
 Ferret scraped a low bow. "Please your verships,''said he, "I hopes you'll 
 pardon the 'trusion, but as the pris'ner han't admitted nothink, not even his 
 name, I'm thinking as ve an't yet see"d no evidence as he's the werry hindi- 
 vidyal as done this here murder; leastvays, I han't see'd no 'deutification on 
 him furder than this — as you all seems agreed he is the rale Dennis Sowton. 
 Now if so be as you'd allow me, or this here genelman," pointing to Dick, 
 " to jist speak to his being the right 'un, spoke on in that ere affecting paper, 
 as he mayn't prove no alibi, nor nothink o' that sort, it 'ud be more reg'lar." 
 Mr. Ferret, who was quite the orator of his profession, from his great 
 practice as chairman of various free-and-easies, looked round with the air of a 
 man who has imparted instruction. 
 
 "It is scarcely necessary, I think?" observed Sir Albert to a county magis- 
 trate, who sat near him. The magistrate said, it might be as well to take 
 such evidence of identity. 
 
 At this juncture our hero stepped forward. 
 
 " If there be any need for the identification of such a villain as Dennis 
 Sowton, I can easily furnish it," said he. 
 
 Turpin then proceeded to swear to his long acquaintance and perfect know* 
 ledge of Dennis's person. The culprit's eye glittered with a bright feroiiv 
 as he proceeded; and, for the first time, he showed outward emotion. 
 He thought of the scene he had interrupted at Plumstead ; of the night ol the 
 betrayal of Bob Berry and his companions, in which he now fancied he saw 
 a plot for his (Dennis's) betrayal; and of the last crowning act of Madge's 
 perfidy. His jealous mind put them together, and he jumped the conclusion, 
 that the man who stood before him was her accomplice ; an^ t^-* - anning as be 
 
DICK TURPW. I4t 
 
 thought himself, he had been duped by a woman, and was about to be destroyed 
 in the pitfall he had first contrived for his enemy. He roused himself; and as 
 Dick concluded, addressed the bench with a request to speak " a few words," 
 which was complied with. 
 
 " You've heerd me identified, gentlemen," said he, with a scowl at Turpin ; 
 *• it's now my turn to identify." 
 
 Ferret winked stealthily at our hero, with a significant nod towards the 
 door. Turpin looked with indignation and disgust on his accuser, who smiled 
 bitterly in return. 
 
 " Sir Albert," said Sir Litton, who feared that lie might be unpleasantly 
 involved in the affair; " I think that we may as well close this sitting, and 
 remove the prisoner — " 
 
 " May I be allowed," interposed Dennis, "to say, Sir Litton, that what I've 
 now to tell hasn't nothing to do with yourself — nothing whatsomever. Sir 
 Litton, your carriage was robbed of four hundred and fifty pounds some five 
 year since, in Essex ; there stands the robber, and I'll prove my words." 
 
 Turpin moved slightly back in the group, and placed one hand in his breast. 
 The magistrates sat astounded, as if expecting our hero's reply. 
 
 *' Oh," continued Dennis, " I'm not afeard : I know you've pistols, and that 
 you use them. I'd take it as a favour at your hand if you'd do so much for 
 me ;'' the villain sneered ; " but I've not done yet. Perhaps the Earl of 
 Coventry and many others would like to see the man who robbed them. 
 There is one who now sports in London, and is called Tom King; do you 
 know him, Sir Albert Denistoun ?" Sir Albert seemed petrified with surprise ; 
 "the other stands before you ; Richard Palmer — I beg his pardon — Dick 
 Turpin the Highwayman!" 
 
 The assemblage, even down to the footboy, looked aghast.. Sir Albert 
 gazed enquiringly on Turpin, when Sir Litton Weston, suddenly rising, ex- 
 c> 'jpri, " Officers, seize him ! " Old Ferret very judiciously grabbed hold of his 
 charge, Dennis. One bumpkin, rasher and more inconsiderate than the rest, ad- 
 vanced to do the baronet's bidding, but instantly measured his length on the floor. 
 Turpin, with his face towards his enemies, pistol in hand, slowly retreated 
 towards the door. A servant stationed there, who made a slight offer to pre 
 vent his egress, received a vigorous compliment on the head, which laid him 
 sprawling. His determined aspect and gesture, and the unexpected discovery 
 of his name, paralysed the energies of the bumpkin constables ; and before they 
 had recovered the consternation which the announcement had produced, Turpin 
 had gained the outer court, leaped on a horse, of which three or four belonging 
 to persons within doors stood saddled at the gate: clapping spurs to his steed, 
 he made a bow to the gaping grooms and stablemen, who bowed in return, and 
 in another instant was careering at full gallop towards the great high road. 
 
 Meantime, dire was the confusion in Sir Albert's hall. "Stop him!" 
 sounded from every throat, but no one started in pursuit. Turpin had placed a 
 mile and more between him and his late friends before a parly was formed to 
 follow. Indeed, the name of Turpin had struck a surprise among them 
 which induced the one or two first in their saddles to delay their start until 
 some half-dozen had mounted, for none of them se.-med ambitious of being the 
 fi st to come up with the daring robber. Sir Lifton and Sir Albert, having 
 now joined and mounted, forward they set, the farmers and men of peace, how- 
 ever, keeping pretty well together, and leaving the honour of precedence to 
 thb good steeds and impetuous haste of their leaders and superiors. They 
 
lU DICK TURPIN. 
 
 might all have spared themselves the trouble ; so cool in temper, and so quick 
 of eye wis Turpin, that in the short moment before mounting he had chosen 
 the strongest and best-bred horse whichthe group presented ; him. It was a 
 hunter of great bone and mature age. He laughed within himself for the 
 first time since the late sad events ; for to him adventure and excitement were 
 necessary stimulants ; and dangerous enterprise, to his fearless spirit, was a 
 pastime and a sport. 
 
 He rode on thus for some ten miles, when having mounted a slight hill, he 
 looked back — no pursuers were in sight ; he struck into a cross-road, and 
 took his way towards Folkingham. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Lear.— What, art mad? A man may see how this world wags with no eyes. Look with thy Mrs. 
 See how yon justice rails on yon simple thief. Hark in thine ear — shake them together— and the first 
 Uiat drops, be it thief or be it justice, is a villain. 
 
 • » • * > * 
 
 I tell thee 'tis the usurer banes thn cozrner. 
 Through tattered clothes small vices do appear, 
 lipbes and furr'd gowns hide all 1 
 
 — Lear, Act It, m. W. 
 
 There's a black gibbet frowns upon Taj.pington Moor, 
 Where man a gibbet hus- frowned before: 
 And murderers there, 
 Are swinging in air, 
 By one and by two and by three. 
 
 — Master Thomas In goldsby. 
 
 It was assize-time at Lincoln : the court was crowded. In the dock ap- 
 peared Dennis Sowton, Roger Haynes, and a third person, by name Michael 
 Clark, who had been apprehended in the intervening period from Dennis's 
 examination, detailed in our last chapter. On the bench were seated, besides 
 the judges of the, king, several of the leading nobility and gentry of the 
 county. Sir Litton Weston too, from his intimate connexion with the 
 deceased, had been accommodated with a place \ ithiu the privileged portion 
 of the court, and had taken his seat beside his brother-in-law. Mixed motives 
 ^ave rise to the anxiety he felt in the issue of the case, the predominant one 
 of which was doubtless a desire to relieve his mind by a certainty of the de- 
 struction of a man whom he deemed dangerous, and who had long given 
 mm much secret uneasiness. The trial had concluded ■ the jury retired; and 
 after a solemn pause of breathless expectation, the foreman returned into the 
 box, followed by his eleven brethren. The silence was painful ; each spectator 
 held his breath; there was but one feeling, that of thirst for blood, pervaded 
 the vast auditory. 
 
 "Guilty, my lord," deliberately uttered the foreman ; " Dennis Sowton as 
 the murderer, and Roger Haynes and Michael Clark as accessories thereunto." 
 
 Abuzz of applause murmured through the dense multitude, which was 
 
DICK TUUPIN. 
 
 145 
 
 D«nnis charges Sir Litton Weston with stealing the Old Buronet's will. 
 
 instantly checked by the officers of the court. The judge assumed his black 
 cap, and thus addressed the first prisoner : — 
 
 " Dennis Sowton ! you have .this day been found guilty by a jury of your 
 country, of the highest crime which man can commit against his fellow- 
 creature. Have you aught to say why the sentence of the court should not 
 now be passed upon you V' 
 
 Dennis turned towards the bench. All eyes were riveted, and all ears open 
 as the prisoner thus spoke : — 
 
 " My lord, it is useless, I knows, for me to say anything to delay the punish- 
 ment of my crime. I don't deny it; I don't ask your mercy; no, no! but I 
 ask you to believe what I now say. Since I've been in prison, I've many 
 times begged that man there (he pointed to Sir Litton Weston, who started 
 slightly, but instantly recovered his self-possession) to grant me, as a man 
 shortly to die — and not likely to ask a trifling favour — to give me a meeting. 
 He has refused it ; he has come here this day, armed with his rank and conse- 
 quence, to see and delight in the death of one he fears even more than he hates. 
 But though I now stand on the side of my grave, I'll show you, my lord, that 
 No 19. 
 
146 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 there is a man here whose villany would have been equal to mine, had he the 
 same temptation. Sir Litton Weston, I — " 
 
 " My lord,'' exclaimed Sir Litton, rising angrily, " will this court listen to 
 theslar.ders of a villain, whose unlicensed tongue seeks to spit its venom on 
 those who — " 
 
 The judge interposed : « I advise you," said he. addressing Dennis, « though 
 I am anxious to extend indulgence to any prisoner in your awful situation, to 
 confine yourself to the one point : your reasons why sentence should not be 
 passed." 
 
 Dennis bowed ; he had evidently been collecting his energies and his wits 
 for this last display. Sir Litton had turned a deaf ear to his applications ; 
 and he had determined, in his malignant soul, that this last cup of bitterness 
 should be sweetened by revenge. 
 
 " My lord," he continued, " I've a duty to do ; I care not, why should I 
 now? for the frown or ill-will even of Sir Litton Weston; and I will do at 
 least one act of justice to atone for my crimes. My lord, I owe one thing to 
 the man who has deserted me after leading me into guilt ; (it suited Dennis, 
 cunning to the last, thus to put his case, though he was both vicious, nay criminal, 
 before Sir Litton first knew him ;) to the honourable baronet, I say, who sits 
 near you ; who thinks I'll be hung tamely, like a dog, and that with me will 
 die the accomplice of his guilt. But, no, my lord, Sir Litton told, and told 
 truly, that J had committed the robbery at Farmer Lawrance's ; but he has 
 not told you who encouraged and incited the condemned wretch who now 
 speaks to you to that act, that he might, by charging it upon his rival, Richard 
 Palmer, punish a girl, who had rejected his dishonourable proposals, for her 
 good taste in preferring a bold man, who meant honourably, to a base seducer. 
 .Sir Litton Weston sneers. I'll yet tell more. He has not told you that, to 
 fix the guilt on that Richard Palmer, he contrived this very robbery ; and that 
 .he gave me, in presence of one Octavius Sheepshanks, whom I do not see here, 
 one hundred pounds, never to divulge what I — " 
 
 Sir Litton could contain himself no longer. " My lord," exclaimed he 
 to the astonished court : " my lord, I appeal to you if this indecent scene can 
 be suffered to continue. This measureless liar, my lord ; I beg pardon, but 
 my indignation must excuse my want of decorum ; is now endeavouring—" 
 - The judge rose with dignity in his seat, and waving his hand, commanded 
 silence, without noticing the speech of Sir Litton. He endeavoured to 
 continue ; but his lordship, with cool impartiality, thus gave his decision :— 
 
 "Sir Litton Weston, the court has not assembled this dav to try the truth 
 or falsehood of the charges which the prisoner has so irrelevantly- and extra- 
 ordm arily made. If they be made, which will be easily provable, with the 
 view of occasioning a short delay in the extreme rigour of the law, the prisoner 
 will fi nd himself wofully deceived. He must hold no hope that the short time 
 allotted to him will be extended on account of anything he may now sav 
 which may criminate other persons. It is with his crime, clearly proven, and 
 his punishment, we have now to deal. Prisoner, it is the practice of the jud^e 
 to allow persons in your extremity the greatest latitude of speech ; yet, re- 
 member, th is course can in no wise avail you." 
 
 Dennis listened with respectful silence to the address of the venerable judge 
 He was not, however, to be turned aside from his purpose ; and the tone and 
 abuse of Sir Litton fixed him in his resolve. He thanked his lordship, and 
 proceeded : — r 
 
DICK TURPIN. 147 
 
 « 
 
 I believe Mr. Sheepshanks could prove all about that— if he dares; but 
 there's more behind." (Sir Litton rose angrily, and was about to quit the 
 court; but a slight groan of disapprobation, which escaped some of the crowd, 
 induced him to resume his place.) " I'm glad you're not gone, Sir Litton ; 
 you refused me assistance, and forgot me : I'll show you I've a better memory. 
 My lord, the late Sir Mark Weston (eft a will.'' 
 
 " Liar I" muttered Sir Litton between his clenched teeth ; then checking 
 himself, he said — " My lord, it is notorious that my father died intestate. 
 Will you, my — " 
 
 The judge motioned him to silence. 
 
 " My lord,'' resumed Dennis, " the late Sir Mark Weston did leave a wiil. 
 My lori, I confess it — for to conceal a small fault will not now help me — I 
 hold that will! Don't go, Sir Litton ; I'm not done yet. Do you recollect 
 the night of your father's death, eh? does that sting you? On that night, 
 my lord, I was crossing the lawn of Weston Hall, when I heard a casement 
 opened : I stood aside, and by the light saw Sir Litton moving within the 
 room ; he stretched his arm from the window, and dropped a small box on the 
 grassplot beneath : that box I secured, thinking it might one day serve me ; 
 and had Sir Litton made a friend of me in this my last extremity, instead of 
 thus deserting me, the despised Dennis Sowton would not have proved him, in 
 open court, a robber. No ! nor have compelled him to disgorge his illgotten wealth 
 to his wronged sister Madeline, and to others ; nay, more — had he not con- 
 nived at my destruction— had he not have lent his guilty hand to crush his 
 humble accomplice in villany, I should not this day have shown him before 
 this assembly a defrauder and a liar.'' 
 
 While Dennis, to whom excitement lent energy and rude eloquence, was 
 delivering the last sentence, Sir Litton quitted the court-house. Counsel, 
 jurors, and the crowd, stood wondering what was to come next, and 
 gaping as if expecting further disclosures. Dennis relapsed into his former 
 quiet indifference. The judge enquired if he had concluded ; and in reply he 
 handed up a paper. His lordship read it attentively; it contained direction* 
 for the recovery of the long-lost documents. 
 
 " Is this all ?" said his lordship. 
 
 Dennis assented by a bow. 
 
 The question as to sentence was put to the other prisoners, who severally 
 replied in the negative. The judge proceeded to the solemn and impressive 
 duty of passing the last dread fiat for the infliction of the extreme punish- 
 ment of death, then so lamentably and disgracefully frequent, but which a 
 milder and more enlightened age has humanely and wisely expunged* in nu- 
 merous cases, from our penal code ; and concluded with the last solemn com- 
 mendation of their " souls to that mercy from their Maker which they must not 
 hope from man." 
 
 The extraordinary disclosures of the prisoner formed the town-talk of Lin- 
 coln, not only among the lower, but among the higher circles. Sir Albert, 
 who had been in court throughout the proceedings, was congratulated on all 
 hands on the extraordinary accession of property to his wife : he hastened to 
 his house. Sir Litton had in the meanwhile left the town in a postchaise ; 
 and spared neither horseflesh nor whipcord until he arrived at his paternal 
 acres. Here he intended to collect a large amount in ready money and 
 ! valuables, and then betake himself to P'rance, there to watch what pro- 
 ; ceedings would emanate from these unluckv disclosures. Sir Albert found 
 
14« DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Madeline, whose good heart never harboured an ill wish toward another, rather 
 pained than rejoiced at the accession of wealth, coupled as it was with such 
 disgraceful exposure. Nevertheless, she felt indignant at the baseness of her 
 brother. She placed the whole affair in the hands of Sir Albert, first exacting 
 a promise that he would be as tender as possible of her brother's name ; and 
 that, as he would unquestionably surrender the ill-acquired property, no ulterior 
 proceedings might be adopted. Sir Albert, having obtained from his lordship 
 the paper which contained Dennis's directions for the recoverv of the deeds, 
 set out for London in quest of them. 
 
 The clouds loured gloomily in the wind's eye, and the large drops which 
 precede a thunderstorm fell heavily at long intervals, with measured splash on 
 the dried earth ; yet the threatening of the sky, which gave every token of a 
 coming deluge, could not damp the eagerness or daunt the curiosity of the 
 dense crowd which assembled on the sloping side and in the flat bottom 
 forming the base of a hill, on which a huge black frame of wood reared its 
 ominous form. It was with difficulty that the "specials" and "locals,'' for 
 it was the morning of the execution of Dennis and his accomplices, could 
 prevent the curious and mischievous assemblage from fairly carrying off or 
 demolishing the little cottage, before whose door, according to a practice then 
 not uncommon, the murderers were to expiate the crime they had there com- 
 mitted. Beneath the huge squared timbers stood a large country waggon f 
 containing the doomed wretches, the executioner, and the clergymen ; beyond 
 these, the attendant sheriff, a^d a few gentlemen of the county. There was but 
 one feeling pervaded the mass — a brutal, fiendish, savage, and blood thirst} 
 exultation. Here might be heard the ribald, indecent, and profane jest : 
 there echoed the horse laugh; while in a third place, a vender of Genera 
 or of ballads, bawled lustily in the exercise of his vocation. And this was 
 the scene almost daily presented in a civilized Christian land ! 
 
 It was for this that men preached, prayed, wrote, and prated about 
 law, as " the perfection of human wisdom."" Such domestic dramas as this 
 did our grandfathers, nay our fathers, call " examples." They pandered to 
 the worst and most debased impulses of humanity ; fostered its vilest and 
 most sanguinary propensities; ay, lent the majesty of justice, and the sanction 
 of authority, to excite the worst passions of a orutal and ignorant multitude, 
 and then talked of " example," of "vindicating the majesty" of "law! 1 ' — of 
 law whose footsteps were blood-prints.; and fondlv imagined that humanity could 
 be taught by a sacrifice to a judicial Moloch ! Yet it is scarcely out of the 
 recollection of many, even of the present generation, when " learned lawyers,'' 
 aud callow "statesmen," twaddled in our senate about the danger of washing 
 from our statute book these foul and crimson stains of barbarity and ignorance! 
 Let us not be mistaken, however : it is not to such a crime as that of the 
 villain whose dosing scene we now faintly depicture, that we would extend even 
 sympathy. We are speaking of the hecatombs which the "law" has slain ; the 
 myriads of murders which speechifying legislators have committed through the 
 instrumentality of ermined judges and ignorant juries, for crimes against 
 society, which wealth first made, and then, by the right ot might, punished, 
 even to the shedding of a fellow-creature's blood. To such cases as these — 
 where weak man for a little dross, a false signature, or an appropriated animal, 
 took the life lie cannot give, — spilt that blood of which heaven has declared, 
 " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed," — to such as 
 thp*e are our remarks intended to apply ; for such, in the sight of the God of 
 mercy, and the man of reason, are— murders. 
 
DICK "TJRl'IN. 149 
 
 The wavering multitude reeled to and fro ; the pinioned Dennis stood 
 listening with a sort of dogged stolidity and indifference to the sonorous 
 exhortations of the clergyman beside him ; the ladder was placed, and the 
 hangman proceeded in his task of adjusting the ropes. He had already carried 
 the end of the first over the cross-beam, and drawn it to nearly the height of 
 the unfortunate Clarke, who was the first to ascend the ladder — Dennis, as 
 the highest criminal, being allowed the enjoyment of witnessing the sufferings 
 of his fellows, by way of additional privilege — when a loud roar, succeeded 
 by cries of " a reprieve, a reprieve ! " arose among that part of the crowd 
 which commanded a view of the high road. It was followed by a horseman, who, 
 holdincr a paper high above his head, rode furiously through the crowd, which 
 gave way on either side, towards the officials. These advanced among the people 
 to meet him : the dread operations were suspended. Dennis glanced ner- 
 vously towards the sheriff; his eye twinkled, and he shuddered : the feel- 
 ing was but momentary ; he shook his head despondingly, stamped his 
 fout on the board, then forcing a grim smile, looked around him. The unfor- 
 tunate man, Clarke, had been allowed to descend from the ladder, the rope 
 having been loosened for the purpose ; his feelings had overcome him, and he 
 sunk half-fainting on his knees. Roger Haynes stood staring with a look 
 of wonderment, rather than fear, upon the sheriff. 
 
 " Roger Haynes," said he, slowly, " my lord judge has mercifully selected 
 vour case as fit to be represented to our gracious king, in consideration of 
 your early confession and surrender to justice; you will, however, remain in 
 custody, till his majesty's pleasure be known." 
 
 Haynes turned towards his fellow culprit,' as if expecting he too was in- 
 cluded in tfke reprieve ; the miserable wretch, with straining eyes, looked as 
 if possessed with the same hope. The sheriff, the principal director of this 
 sanguinary scene, was a humane iaan, such power has habit and custom; he 
 slowly folded the paper and turned away, in signal that he had communicated 
 all its contents. With a piercing shriek the doomed victim started to his feet, 
 and instantly fell senseless, and was in this state placed by the executioner and 
 his assistants beneath the beam ; happily for him, the ladder was withdrawn, 
 and eternity opened on him, ere he knew he had quitted this scene of that cruelty 
 which i-asses all other cruelty, " man's inhumanity to man." As for Dennis, 
 he died as he had lived, "loving nothing, fearing nothing, and believing 
 nothing:'' and dying thus, his memory was long preserved by the old, as the 
 best actor in that bloody drama; " zeein' as he died game, an' wur a most 
 owdacious trump, to be zure;" such was the high tone of English morality and 
 philosophy inculcated by these exhibitions of the " wisdom of our ancestors." 
 
150 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Lollio. — You've a fine trade on't here : madmen and fools are a staple commodity.. 
 
 Alibius. — Of course ; we must eat, wear clothes, and live. 
 Thus at the lawyer's haven we arrive ; 
 For (till by knaves and fools we both do thrive. 
 
 The Changeling. By W. Middleton and Thomas Rowley. 1602. 
 
 1st. Outlaw. — Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you; 
 If not we'll make you sit, and rifle you. 
 
 Speed. — Sir, we are uudoac ! These are Hie villains 
 That all the travellers do fear so much. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act iv. sc. i. 
 
 Two months had now elapsed since Dick Turpin had arrived in London, 
 where it was his first act to seek out King, to narrate to him. the stirring events 
 with which the few weeks ensuing their separation in London had been fraught ; 
 concluding with the late exposure by Dennis, in which King, as well as 
 himself, were so deeply involved. 
 
 " Egad !" said Tom, " that's a very pretty little history, that same. Quite 
 romantic, extraordinary, horrible, and dramatically wound up. Don't look serious, 
 Dick ; I felt perhaps more than I showed outwardly at one part of your story ; 
 but it isn't my way to look at the dark side of things. Sad, I know, are your 
 recollections ; but, dash it, Dick, ' grieving's a folly, boys,' says the old song, 
 and I agree with it. Mourning won't bring back lost pleasures, and make 
 worse present disasters, eh ? that's my philosophy : so let's dismiss the dumps, 
 and tell us what you think best to be done ; for make ourselves scarce we must, 
 as soon as this ugly affair gets wind. I admire your escape, though ; Dickon, 
 my trump, give us your hand on't. Yet I'm sorry you couldn't give an ounce 
 bolus to that wretch, just by way of good-bye. You expect your old friend, 
 Sir Litton, in town upon your trail, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Certainly not, I should say; he will stay at Denistoun Hall until the 
 trial of the murderers, which will be some six weeks hence ; and I have some 
 reasons for suspecting, that from personal motives, he will either purchase 
 or connive at the escape of the chief miscreant — should my suspicions prove 
 true, even though the pursuit of my object should bring me to the dungeon 
 or the scaffold; depend on it, neither Sir Litton, nor his accomplice in bygone 
 villanies, shall escape from exposure, or elude my revenge." 
 
 " Very good ; capital," said King, smiling ; " your feelings do you honour, 
 though I must say they are rather too chivalric for my comprehension. If / 
 do anything that chicken-hearted folk call bold and adventurous, it is that I 
 may live in ease and enjoyment for a time. A present for my lady fair, the 
 wherewith for a bottle with my friend, a suit of spicy togs, or a neat prad, 
 are to me enjoyments of life ; and he who would not risk a little for enjoyments 
 such as these, is a skulker, a coward, and no philosopher, say I. Who'd starve 
 in quiet, or herd with filth and poverty, when there are so many fat-pursed, 
 heavy-brained, chicken-hearted clods, who know not how to enjoy the wealth 
 they possess, and wait only the word of command, ' Stand and deliver,' to 
 hand over tamely, and without trouble, their gold, to such roaring blades 
 as St. Nicholas's clerks — eh, Dicky, my boy ? '' 
 
 Turpin had fallen into a slight fit of abstraction during this rattle of his 
 volatile friend ; the question put in the last few words, however, roused him 
 
DICK TURPIN. 151 
 
 < 
 
 "Upon my soul, Tom," he replied, "you're a most inexhaustible fellow. 
 I'd give a trifle for your spirits ; but let that pass. I was just contriving a 
 nice little plan, for I see you have booked me for the road again ; and as it's 
 no use doing things by halves, here's my hand on't — we're pals, and share 
 and share " 
 
 " Done ! " exclaimed Tom, with the eager heartiness of his nature. " It 
 would be a sin such a noble spirit should rust — here's with you for good and 
 for bad — an adventurer's wedding, like a matrimonial spec, ' until death us do j 
 part,' ha, ha, ha ! " ! 
 
 "Leave off" your rattle, Tom, for a minute," said Dick, "and listen. The 
 last place in which the bloodhounds of the law would seek me is certainly 
 that of my birth, from which a long interval of time, and other circumstances 
 not worth repeating, have so entirely severed me. When a boy, (and his voice 
 unconsciously and unintentionally assumed a melancholy tone,) I was thought 
 somewhat daring, — somewhat venturous. Within a few miles of my birth- 
 place was a naturally-formed cave ; and in my rambles, many a time, excited 
 by tales of robbers I had read, did I imagine how proudly and heroically I 
 might issue from such a spot, to levv 'black mail,' as I've read of its being 
 termed, on trembling and dastard travellers. Time," said he laughing, " and 
 a better knowledge of men and things, has, however, made another sort of 
 thing of a robber from the creature of the old romantic legends of my youth. 
 Yet there is one point remains feasible still in my idea, and that is the 
 conversion of that same cavern into a stable for our nags. It is—none of your 
 laughing, Tom — unless the country is much changed, known only to some few 
 bird-nesting urchins. In a word, friend Tom, we'll e'en take a trot down 
 this night, if you will, and survey the premises." 
 
 "Dick," replied his comrade, "done! for the second time. But I like to 
 keep a good thing to the last. Suppose I've sold your bonny black Bess, 
 though, what then ? Oh, don't look serious before it's time. I've sold her to 
 a very good tune, but don't mean to part with her ; however, what you've told 
 me just now will hasten the affair." 
 
 Tom then proceeded to relate, in his usual lively and gossipping style, the 
 following adventure. 
 
 " Since you've been flaring up out o" town, and all that sort o' thin^, of 
 course, Dick, as I'd your permission, I've kept your black mare — and a splendid 
 creature she is — in exercise. Well, more than once, as I've sported my figure 
 in Pall Mall, Piccadilly, or the Oxford Road, have I had offers made for her, 
 and enquiries as to price ; these, however, went for nothing, till a bright idea 
 struck me on Wednesday last that something like a cool three hundred might 
 be made, and the mare not parted with after all : do you smoke how that's to 
 be done, eh — Dickon, eh?" 
 
 Turpin expressed his inability to solve the question. 
 
 ■ "It will take a little manoeuvring, a little impudence, and a little bounce 
 
 I won't say courage — to do it neatly: yet I shall manage it, never fear. I'll 
 tell you how I mean it to come off; and as we're going out of town, you 
 know, eh? (and Tom facetiously nudged his auditor) I've no need to be quite 
 so scrupulous. Don't be impatient, I'm coming to the point. Captain Wil- 
 loughby — you don't know him ; he's an empty-headed, full-pocketed ma<-ca- 
 roni — has been boring me to sell the horse till he has put a scheme t*tu my 
 head, tho' I'm sure he never could have one in his own. It is this: he pro 
 
 . V 
 
152 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 posed to me to raffle the horse; and has promised me that he will procure 
 among his acquaintances six subscribers of 50/. each, The knave's half 
 cunning, and therefore one of your best flats. ' Now,' says he, ' I'll tell you 
 what I'll do. I'll take one share; and I'll sound the others to see if the 
 winner won't let me have his winning for another 50/., in the event of his 
 being fortunate: and then, don't you see, besides my own chance for 50/., 
 p'raps I shall get it for a hundred.' I saw the sap's cunning, and mean 
 to bite the biter. I'll have their three hundred, but neither of 'em shall have 
 Bess ; and what's more, the winner shan't dare to talk about his being bubbled. 
 What think you of that, Dickon ? Come with me to ' The Turk,' and you 
 shall see it done." 
 
 The friends strolled off towards Charing Cross, and entered a coffeehouse, 
 where many well-dressed men sat sipping their wine or coffee, exchanging their 
 snuff-boxes, or gossipping over the news and scandal of the day. King looked 
 around, and after exchanging nods with several, fixed on a knot of three young 
 bloods, congregated in a box at the upper endof the room. Before them stood 
 the remains of a broiled fowl, a few cigar-ends, some olives, a plate of ancho- 
 vies, and two or three snuff-boxes; and amid this heterogeneous mixture, on 1 the 
 sloppy table, was a bottle of black strap, a ditto of sour German wine, and an 
 awkward squad of glasses, tall and short. 
 
 " Ah! Tommy, my rattler, there you are ! Consume me, if we weren't just 
 talking about -you and that dem'd fine mare of your's. Come on, my buck, 
 and join us. Shove up there, Phipps," said he, to a companion ; "make 
 room for Tom and his pal — Tom's friend is sure to be a rum un. Shove up 
 there '. " 
 
 The speaker was the Honourable Captain Willoughby, a choice sample of the 
 aristocratic blackguard of the earlier part of the eighteenth century. Picture to 
 vourself, reader, a sallow whey-faced young man, on whose features dissipation 
 and debauchery were written in liDes that all might read. A wig of question- 
 able shape, the curls of which bore scattered stains of red wine or blood, the 
 one as likely as the other, was stuck carelessly on his head. He was attired 
 in a handsome court suit of mazarine blue, edged with silver lace, but loose 
 at the knees, soiled and slovenly ; while wrinkled stockings of tinted silk, 
 shoes half-drawn at the buckle strap, and a patch of black plaister on the 
 cheek, to hide a wound received in a sword brawl on the preceding evening or 
 morning, completed the picture of this Waterford or Waldegrave of 1730. 
 
 Turpin and Tom were soon on the best possible terms with the party ; the 
 bottle was replenished ; oaths — for swearing was then deemed a mark of man- 
 hood and good-breeding— -and obscenity, which passed for wit, formed the 
 staple' of discourse ; spiced with some narrative of how some valorous dozen of 
 Mohocks pinked a chairman in St. James's, or a Charley in Covent Garden ; 
 with various other lordiv amusements of a similar character. 
 
 Tom suffered the current of conversation to take its own course : as it began 
 to flag, however, he imperceptibly led it to the matter in hand. 
 
 "Well thought of, Willoughby, split me, b it I'd forgot. Didn't you drop 
 something about, the blaok mare I was trotting t'other day in the'Dilly? We 
 can talk it over now, tho' I couldn't then. My friend here, Mr. Newton, 
 (alluding to Turpin,) is the owner of her. I've told him your proposal o 
 the raffle; but I suppose you haven't, thought of it since?" 
 
 To this feeler Captain Willoughby replinl by drawing from his pocket a 
 bo':Ai, and oneninz it on the table, he selected from a group of applications 
 
DICK TORPIN. 
 
 53 
 
 KSi>c :"M 'l'urviu return the inoney to Captain WUIougSiby, 
 
 from industrious tradesmen, each supplicating as a favour "a settlement " of 
 ij is little account, and a soiled and crumpled letter of paternal advice. On the 
 back of thi.«, the dutiful son had made an entry of four names ; the rest of its 
 top and sides were covered with figures, containing calculations of the doctrine 
 of chances, as applicable to gambling speculations; such being with Captain 
 Wtlloughby, as with' not a few of more modem gentlemen of University 
 education, the only practical purpose to which mathematical studies are ever 
 applied. Spreading the letter before him, he went on — 
 
 "'Dye think I'd forgot it? No.no! Here are four down — three of them, 
 Phipps, Levinz, and Harcourt, are here. Mr — a — a — what's your name ? " 
 
 "Newton," said Dick, bowing. 
 
 "Oh — ah — Mr. Newton. 'Gad that is a mare of your's. Phipps, yon saw 
 her. Stab my vitals, but she's an angel — a black 'tin though. What shall we 
 do for a fifth ? Phipps, Levinz, Harcourt, and self — wouldn't Sir Lumley 
 Pluflington make one, eh ? Harcourt, you know him best: ask him, my boy." 
 
 Dick here, as previously arranged with King, observed that it was impossible 
 to protract his stay in London bevood to-morrow; therefore, 'anxious as I 
 No. 20'. 
 
1M DICK TURPIN. 
 
 am to oblige the friends of Mr. King, I shall keep my horse, unless something 
 s ve is done to -'a i'. 
 •• Phen,*' exclaimed Willoughby, who was anxious not to lose his prize 
 " Harcourt, my boy, I'll tell you how we'll dr> it. Come to Sir Lumlev's— 
 I'll ask him first. Mr. Newton, will yon show the horse with your servant 
 before Sir Lumlev's window? — he's a prime judge; aud Harcourt, you'll 
 ■ se 'olid me '' 
 
 ' Pooh, pooh/' replied Harcourt,* « don't make any fuss about it, I'll make 
 Lummy post his fifty ; you mustn't gaff it about town though, but my 
 uncle, the old bishop, (he'll cut up nicely when he goes to heaven) holds half 
 Lummy's lands on mortgage, at least his lawyer does, for old Spintext always 
 pretends he's as poor as a church mouse — he 1 he ! Come on, mv carnation 
 I'll do the trick. Mr. Newton, just let your prad be down iu the Mall, will'ee ? 
 at — what the hell's the time now ? oh, two — at three o'clock. I'll n ana^e it 
 Good bye." ° 
 
 The wine had certainly got a little into the head of the bishop's nephew, 
 or, more probably, had never got out of it since dinner the previous day * and 
 forth he sallied with his friend Willoughby, to the residence of "Sir Lummy " 
 as he familiarly termed him. 
 
 Turpin and Kiug took their way to Holborn ; and shortly after, Bess, rode by 
 a helper from the stables, was trotted gently past the residence of Sir Lumley. 
 That fashionable personage, at the time of his two friends' arrival, was 
 under the hands of his frizeur, an important individual iu the davsqf perukes 
 pomatum, and powder; he, however, gave them the entree, and "promised his 
 name to the list, provided his connoisseurship in horseflesh should find itself 
 warranted in so doing by a personal inspection of the animal. 
 
 The affair was thus far conditionally arranged; and the man of tongs and 
 grease, having finished his torturing on the caput of Sir Lumley, the noble 
 brute was, according to agreement, paraded by the window. Sir Lumley 
 admired her action, but desired a closer inspection ; and the three went down 
 into the street, where, after a rigorous examination, and having seen her put 
 through her paces, Sir Lumley added his name to the list; and proposed ac- 
 companying them to the Park. 
 
 One name yet remained, and Turpin and King having joined the party, 
 Mr. Newton (Turpin), at the suggestion of King, who thought delay might be' 
 dangerous, proposed to take the remaining chance for himself. This was agreed 
 to, and the raffle was at once proceeded with. Captain Willonghby proved 
 the fortunate adventurer. He was congratulated on his good fortune, the two 
 "hundred and fifty was pocketed by Turpin, and after a few more glasses of 
 tvine, the Captain, who was eager to obtain possession of his prize, proposed to 
 accompany Mr. Newton, for the purpose of receiving the horse. 
 
 Dick was not a little puzzled to conjecture what would be the next move; 
 and, despite his confidence in the address of his friend Tom, began to think 
 Bess in some jeopardy. The other members of the party, feeling no farther 
 interested in the affair, stuck to the bottle. 
 
 It was dusk as the trio, Captain Willoughby, Turpin, and King, set out 
 towards Bloomsbury; they passed up the Haymarket until they had arrived 
 opposite the spot where afterwards stood the "barn" of Foote, known as 
 the "little theatre in the Haymarket:" King looked behind— there was no 
 passengers in sight. He dropt the arm ^ Willoughbv, and thus addressed 
 Turpin. 
 
DTCK TURP1N. 155 
 
 " Dick mv lad, we've carried this joke fat enough to my thinking; hand me 
 here Captain Willoughby's ' fifty.' ' The fuddled Captain was rather puzzled 
 at this speeeh — Turpin handed over the cash to King. 
 
 "Sir," said King, again addressing Willoughby; "you first proposed this 
 raffle to me, and it's as well to be candid in these affairs. I want cash; your 
 original scheme looked so much like a swindle for fifty each on at least three 
 of the parties whom you honour by the title of " friends,*' that you must 
 see I have your character a little in my keeping. ( The Captain stared 
 but said nothing.) I presume you consider me a man of honour, so shall I you, 
 Unless obliged to declare otherwise. (The Captain laid his hand on his 
 sword, but his arm was arrested by Dick ) " Pray Sir, don't be hasty," said 
 Tom, laughing, at the same time unsheathing his rapier ; " I beg you'll not 
 let this little affair lead to worse. I suspect you know that at the fencing 
 school I can give even you a hit or two." The thought of King's known 
 superiority seemed to have an effect on the sudden valour of the Captain, for 
 he dropped his weapon quietly into its scabbard, saying, 
 
 " Well, you're a funny fellow, Tom ; but, blind me, if I can make out what's 
 the meaning of this. Mr. Newton, Sir, I presume you'll deal fairly in this 
 affair, but I've had my honour impeached Sir, a soldier's honour, Sir, damme! 
 Nevertheless, Tom, we'll cry quits; I'm hasty you know, Tom." The Captain 
 offered his hand, which King accepted. M And now," said he ; " show us 
 this d — d out of the way Bloomsbury hole, where you've stowed away the 
 mare. Come along Mr. Newton." 
 
 " Don't hurry yourself," interposed King, " the plain fact is, Willoughby, 
 you'll get no horse at all. Don't stare man, I mean what I say.*' 
 
 " What!" exclaimed the Captain, who was roused by the idea of l>smg 
 his cash ; " you won't swindle me out of both horse and money ?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it, my dear boy,'' returned King ; " only do a bit of ' dia- 
 mond cut diamond.' Here's your 'fifty.' I think that's pretty honest. And now, 
 mark ye, Willoughby," said King assuming a serious look and tone. " I, and 
 my friend Newton wanted a little cash, for we're leaving London for a short 
 time ; you wanted a horse — you haven't got the horse, but you have your 
 money, so you've lost nothing but not a word of this. I won't threaten, for I 
 believe you are a brave man, and fear not personal danger: (this was a piece 
 of most adroit flattery on the part of Tom, for he knew the Captain to be 
 both bully and coward.) But, Willoughby, think of your reputation my boy, 
 for by the sharpest six inches of steel that ever man took into his stomach 
 against his will, if you breathe a syllable about this, other than I tell you 
 now, I'll not only call you to account, but I'll blaze to Harcourt, Phipps; 
 and Sir Lumley, your own pretty little plan. Mr. Newton, mind you, has 
 bought back your bargain for another Hum lied. You understand me — eh?" 
 
 King took Turpin's arm, and they strolled leisurely towards Piccadilly ; 
 King nodding familiarly to the Captain as they moved off. He was so con- 
 founded at the consummate impudence and coolness of the pair, that he 
 stood irresolute ; discretion however whispered his valour that it would be 
 very unsafe to attempt personal revenge in a case where the odds were so 
 seriously against him ; moreover his courage was of that " swash-buckler" 
 breed, which requires very peculiar circumstances and the presence of many 
 spectators to excite it. He had no idea of throwing away so precious a com- 
 modity, of which, he possessed so small a modicum, in private com- 
 bat ; so, after two or three muttered curies, he looted at the cash 
 
136 DICK TURPIN 
 
 returned to him ; deposited it in the pocket of his bracelet unmentionables* 
 Whistled a pensive air; and sauntered down the Uavmarket in the direction 
 •f St. James's Palace, cogitating how to revenge himself, without exposure 
 ort the pair who had so neatly outwitted him. 
 
 Gaily and hilariously did ihe two friends chat over the day's adventure, as 
 
 t} ey walked to " The Old Leaping Bar." Dick especially was boisterous in 
 
 I is laughter, as, once more on the back of his gallant Bess, they trotted 
 
 own Holbom. A fine bright moon shone cheerily as they clattered o-ailv 
 
 • long, and one short hour brought them to a roadside alehouse. 
 
 " There's a stable here, Tom ; 'tis but a short mile, and you shall see mv 
 ■ rhim, or whatever else you may please to call it — the cave, Tom — though, 
 % dare say, like all other objects of our boyhood, it will appear shrunk and 
 small to our travelled eyes. Soho, Bess !" The couple dismounted, and a 
 rough fellow, who did the menial work of the little establishment, proffered 
 his services. To him the horses were consigned, and Dick and Tom, after 
 taking a glass of ale, strolled forth. The night was beautiful; they walked 
 aome hundred yards down the road, Turpin narrowly examining the hed^e 
 row as they went on : a bridle path presented itself. " I have it," he ex- 
 claimed ; and starting at a smart walk, they pushed into the wood. The 
 startled game rose with a whirring sound as the footsteps of the intruders 
 approached their roosting places ; the frog hopped from the damp grass, and 
 leaped with a lumpish splash into the ditch, or rather drain, which bordered 
 the path; the bat wheeled heavily close above their heads, and ever and anon 
 the downy wing of the white owl bore him noiselessly in his sweep among Ihe 
 branches of the low trees. 
 
 " A very pretty little bit of no man's land this seems to be, for so near 
 town, Dick," said King. " The approach to your castle isn't very majestic, 
 though. Curse it !" ejaculated he, " what's that ?" as he knocked his foot 
 •gainst and stumbled over the foot of a tree long since hewn down, and con- 
 cealed by the tall grass. Turpin laughed. 
 
 " I see you don't manage this sort of travelling as well as I, Tom," rejoined 
 he, as thev struck through some hazel bushes into the thicket : " Look to your 
 feet, Tom ; don't be staggering ; it won't do to walk here as you would in the 
 Park : mind your ten toes, — that's the principal thing, or you may chance to 
 6nd yourself in a hole or a drain. It's necessary, too, to mind your eye, for 
 a lash from a twig in one corner of it will make you wink, or a salute from a 
 briar on your cheek may damage your beauty; besides, scratches look suspi- 
 tious, Tom, specially to the women. I've not forgot the road, you see," said 
 he, stopping at a small space of ground where the trees so stood as to leave 
 an open space of some three or four yards in front of a tuft of underwood. 
 And looked about him. 
 
 Devil a cave do I see ; and those who do must have good eyes, I'm thinking," 
 Said he. 
 
 u Who intended you or any one else should, till I showed them," replied 
 1 urpin. 
 
 Dick passed between the bushes of the thicket, thrusting their boughs to 
 the right and left; and after three or four turns in different directions, after 
 the fashion of the entrance to the " maze" of an old garden, he stopped before 
 two tufted, bushy-headed trees, of some fifteen feet in height. 
 
 " D'ye see it now, Tim V said Turpin laughing. King expressed his ina- 
 bility. "Then follow me," said he; and slightly stooping, he passed into th« 
 
DICK TURPIN. 157 
 
 partial obscurity, occasioned by the thick foliage. Three steps plunged them in 
 deep darkness, and King placed his hand on the back of his comrade to guide 
 his steps. Turpin went on a few feet ; then taking King by the arm, he 
 turned him round, and both companions stood looking towards the opening by 
 which they had entered. The flickering leaves as their bright surfaces 
 shook in the night-breeze glanced in the moonshine, was visible from 'the 
 position in which thev stood ; the little light, however, which found its wav 
 into the cavern did not enable them to distinguish any object around them 
 The extent of the excavation, if such it was, or the nature of the materia, 
 forming its sides, were undiscernible. 
 
 " What dye think of it ? " asked Tuvpin, as he stamped his foot on" the 
 ground, which sounded hard beneath them. '■ li's dry and pretty deep. The 
 ground rises backward hereabouts, and this opening, whether made hy man, 
 or fashioned by nature, is in the side of the bank, at the place of its most 
 abrupt rise. There's worse stables than this. Torn, ay, or lodgings either. 
 But perhaps, as I'm to show you over the premises, you'll require some par- 
 ticulars before you enter on them ; so here goes for a light.'" 
 
 Dick produced from his pocket, a piece of vegetable tinder, and placed it in 
 the pan of his pistol, after drawing the charge ; one click of the flint on the 
 hammer of the weapon communicated a spark, a sulphur match was applied, 
 and behold, in almost as little time as with a modern congreve or lucifer, did 
 Dick produce a light from this characteristic tinder-box. King looked on and 
 smiled. " You're a shrewd fellow, Dick," said he ; " I'd rather have one 
 ready-witted chap than a dozen hard-headed strong-fisted blackguards. But 
 how go rent and taxes in these parts, as you seem to have the letting of this 
 snug retreat ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you,'' said Dick, assuming an air of business-like gravity. u The 
 rent must be collected by the tenant ; and as he no doubt, in a great measure, 
 will act as tax-gatherer for the district himself, he will be asked to pay no other 
 dues than those of friendship; and should none eject him until he who lets it 
 shall endeavour to do so, then he may reckon on a lease to the day of judg- 
 ment. Nay more, his landlord will share his tenement, make common canse 
 with him, and the bold fellow who attempts to drive him out must do it over 
 Dick Turpin's body.'' 
 
 The friends shook hands, and taking their way towards the ale-honse, 
 mounted their prads, and slept that night at Kpping. 
 
 A few days' active exertion of Turpin and King, for they deemed it prudent 
 to trust no one with the secret of their retreat, sufficed them to collect the 
 necessaries for making the cave available as an occasional retreat ; and thilher, 
 preparation having been made for their reception, they removed their horses. 
 Considerable ingenuity and much thought were expended on making its 
 approach and exit, which were b/ different circuitous routes, and as little likely to 
 excite attention as might be. The sides were of a light yet somewhat tena- 
 cious loam ; and they resolved to leave its outer entrance as little altered 
 from its natural state as possible. Three or four tiays were spent bv them in 
 excavating a small lateral chamber, and the earth removed therefrom the\ 
 deposited against the sides of the larger or entrance chamber near its mouth, 
 thereby materially narrowing it, leaving only space through which ahorse ttfigbt 
 enter. They also began burrowing a small passage, to creep through on t lie 
 hand* and knees, by which, in case of a watch being set on their main 
 portal, they might escape. The perfecting this was necessarily postponed, 
 
158 DItrk riJRPlN. 
 
 as ftiture time aud leisure might serve for its completion ; its terrninatior 
 being contrived in a small thicket of dense underwood, some fifty fee; 
 from their subterraneous abode. And here we will leave them to returi 
 to Sir Litton, whom we left hurrying from the scene of his exposure an 
 disgrace. 
 
 We have said Sir Litton Weston spared neither horseflesh nor whipcor: 
 until he again brought in view the vane-surmounted and turreted roof v 
 Weston Hall. Small time for tarrying did he there allow himself. The con- 
 sciousness of guilt made him, like "the wicked, who flee when no man pursueth,' 
 resolve to retire to the Netherlands, for awhile to watch in security the turn 
 affairs might take. A little reflection suggested to him that it would be 
 advisable to make, if practicable, the worthy Mr. Octavius the companion of 
 his flight. That obsequious individual could not yet be acquainted with the 
 unfortunate affair ; and Sir Litton, knowing his man, reasonably suspected 
 that it would be injudicious to allow hiin to remain behind, for he feared that 
 the little lawyer might tell some unpleasant tales. He therefore summoned 
 him to the Hall : he obeyed the mandate without delay. 
 
 "Mr. Sheepshanks,'' said Sir Litton, "I've sent for you to consult upon an 
 important piece of business." 
 
 The lawyer declared his entire devotion to his commands. 
 
 " I'm about to take a journey to the continent, respecting some peculiar 
 private business, and I am desirous of availing myself of your professional 
 advice and assistance," said Sir Litton. The neatly-contrived lie completely 
 threw the cunning little latitat off his guard, and he declared his readiness 
 to accompany his patron. 
 
 Sir Litton speedily collected the most valuable and portable of his family 
 plate and jewels, and having drawn a considerable sum in cash from his ajient, 
 started on his journey towards the coast; he resolved, however, to avoid sus- 
 picion as to his destination, to avoid the more frequented route, and travelling 
 by Colchester, and thence to Harwich, to trust to some small vessel to convey 
 him to the opposite shore. This resolution led, however, to a most unlucky 
 rencontre. 
 
 It was Saturday night, and a party of farmers and graziers, small trades- 
 men, and the upper servants of the neighbouring gentry, were assembled in 
 the parlour of the Eagle. The ruddy fire burned brightly, and the smooth and 
 dark oak-panels warmly reflected its cheering glow. Into this snug room did 
 Turpin and King enter, and having been supplied with a glass of spirits and 
 water and a tray of tabacco, selected each his yard of clay, and took their 
 seats. The " talk was of bullocks," as might be expected ; and this interesting 
 topic exhausted, miscellaneous subjects followed. 
 
 " Didst hear the news, Geoffrey V asked a burly franklin of an acquaintance 
 on the other side at an opposite table : " Sir Litton Weston ha' coomed to 
 the Hall ; and young Jenkins — he that be fag to Muster Sheepshanks — did 
 tell me as his master and the barronit be gwain to sum furrin part; it be a 
 secret, thoV 
 
 "Ugh !" grunted the party addressed, taking his pipe from his mouth, and 
 spitting deliberately in a small triangular wooden box, filled with sawdust, 
 which stood at his foot ; " ugh ; 'tisn't much his people ..hear about un, 
 'xcept when they l>e back'ard in their rent. A doan't think it much matters 
 if a' be at the Hall, or onywhere else, for the good a' doefe." 
 
 None of the pa*v eemel to be disposed to cfamptw* the j»p<ul nnme of the 
 
DICK TURPIN. 159 
 
 Baronet, for the disparaging speech of the blunt farmer was succeeded by a 
 short silence. Tom looked significantly at Turpin. 
 
 " Ah," observed another of the party ; " if that ould Sheepshanks be- gein' 
 wi' 'un, a' shouldn't guess as anybody 'nil grieve about that 'ere, neythe-r. 
 Ould GiMy told me, this very day as gone, as Sheepshanks called on 'un, and 
 drawed 'un o* forty pound, and as he wor main pressia', too. A' told 'un- as 
 the Baronet wor goin* to take 'un wi' him on a job as wor o' main weight, an' 
 that he might tell 'un in confidence, as hemun ha' the money out o' baud; fur 
 it wor a great lawsuit, or summut o' the sort. He told 'un too, as he wor 
 goin' off" ther very morrow as ever is." 
 
 "Maybe," observed a gamekeeper; " for Job Tyler have been ajl day up at 
 Weston, putting a chain and doing odd jobs to the travelling coach." 
 
 The conversation changed ; and after staying another hour, Turpin and hi* 
 companion left. 
 
 Their consultation was long on the important information they had thus 
 acquired. They had arrived at the spot where they usually dismounted, and 
 looking along the road lest they might be observed, were about to lead their 
 horses into the wood, when the}' heard the distant clatter of horse's feet ap- 
 proaching them. 
 
 ''Shall we mount?" asked King. 
 
 " Yes,'' replied Dick, " and ride a little distance from this spot at any rate 
 It may be game," added he, examining his holsters. 
 
 They rode slowly on : the horseman gained upon them ; and the compa 
 nions drew up between some trees at the rode-side. The traveller came on — 
 he had certainly seen them, for the road was level — and on nearing the spot, 
 slackened his speed. The night was clear; and as he approached, both King 
 and Turpin together recognised their old friend George Fielder. Their greeting 
 was hearty ; and after some conference between King and Turpin, they resolved 
 to make him a sharer in the adventure already resolved on. 
 
 The residence of Octavius Sheepshanks, Gent., one, &c, was one of three 
 brick residences with which the village was distinguished. The other two 
 were the parsonage and a boarding school. Wood, wattles, or groutwork, 
 formed the materials of the remaining structures. The green door of the 
 abode of the man of law was distinguished by his name, in large white letters, 
 painted thereon, and the dusty appearance of the large squares of glass in the 
 parlour windows, for that apartment was used as a counting-house, gave a 
 business aspect to tne house altogether distinctive from the neater dwellings 
 on either side. Other anomalous features did it exhibit — a round orifice, 
 enriched with a brass escutcheon, was visible in the green door aforesaid, 
 intended for the insertion of a latch key ; and the rustic applicant, who for the 
 first time applied to the knocker, stood startled and abashed at the entrance, 
 at the magic process by which the aforesaid door opened itself, without hands, 
 in reply to his " knock and ring ;" the wonder aforesaid being brought to 
 pass by the agency of a wire-pull suspended above the head of Jenkins the 
 clerk, in the office before-named. 
 
 " Is muster Sheepshanks at whoam?" asked a shock-headed rustic, as he 
 entered the little office of Sheepshanks on the following day. The question 
 was addressed to a pert, lank-haired, seedy-looking youth, who, perched upon a 
 high stool, was copying some law-form at a desk within a little railing. 
 
 "What's your business, my good man?" asked the youth, sticking his pen 
 behind his ear. 
 
l£0 DICK TCRP1N. 
 
 Whoy, said the man, scratching his head, " a'a a little advice to ax • a 
 wants to lawyer ould farmer Gubbins, an' a'd like to see 'un." 
 
 'Mr. S. is at the Hall on important business," said the youth ; "but I eaa 
 do as well. What's the nature of your complaint against Gubbins eh?" 
 
 The man hesitated. 
 
 "Can a' see him if a' call i' th' arternoon?" asked he. 
 
 "Indeed you can't," returned the clerk ; " he's a-going to the Continent 
 this very day on matters of great consequence." 
 
 The man again resorted to scratching his poll. 
 
 " When will he coom back?" enquired the man. 
 
 "Why — a — a — you see," said the youth, "if you want justice against 
 Gubbins, I can do as well as Mr. S. himself; therefore, my good man, if you'll 
 step into the private room, I'll — " 
 
 " Noa, noa," said the joskin; " a' must see un; mavbe if a' went up to 
 the hall—" 
 
 "Certainly not," said Jenkins, whose dignity was hurt by the rustic's per- 
 tinacity. " You don't suppose, my good man, that Mr. Octavius Sheepshanks 
 can be disturbed when engaged in important consultations with counsel from 
 London, about your little affairs? Go up to the hall, indeed !" 
 
 " Well, then, a'll call agin," said the man, sauntering out. 
 
 "■D — n your impudence," muttered Jenkins, sotto voce, applying himself 
 again to his task. 
 
 The rustic walked some twenty yards down the road, and struck into a back 
 lane. There was a meaning smile on his countenance, singular Iv at variance 
 with the assumed simplicity it had worn during the conversation with Mr. 
 Sheepshanks's factotum. A man stepped from a stile by the road-side. 
 
 " Well, Dick," enquired Fielder, who awaited the countryman's return ; 
 " how goes it?" 
 
 " All right," replied the seeming countryman ; " he's off this very after- 
 noon — but I'll go up to the hall to make sure." 
 
 " No, no," said Fielder; "give me the smock-frock and wig. I'll do that 
 part of the business, and join you in half an hour behind the chinch." 
 
 There's manv a slip between the. cup and the lip. Fielder was walking 
 slowly up the road towards the Hall, when, to his no small surprise, he met 
 the carriage of Sir Litton, containing that gentleman and the lawyer. He 
 hastened across the fields to apprize Dick of the unlucky circumstance He 
 was not at the spot he had left him ; he ran to the place appointed, b;t Tur- 
 pin, who had taken a circuitous route, had not arrived. 
 
 " Confound it," exclaimed he. Five minutes, to him an hour, elapsed, but 
 still no signs of his comrade ; ten more were spent in the same way " It 
 won't do to leave this," said he. He looked out on the road in vain. Three 
 quarters of an hour passed, and, boiling with very rage and disappointment, 
 he started off at a sharp walk towards the cave, where King awaited their 
 return. 
 
 A few words sufficed to explain the unfortunate state of affairs. 
 
 King refused to start on the adventure, except in conjunction with Dick ; 
 and George was by no means pressing. An hour elapsed. 
 
 " He'll be at Colchester and give us the slip, by Jupiter !" exclaimed 
 Fielder, who was paring impatiently the small chamber, in a sort of fi>herman'i 
 walk, that is, three steps and a turn. 
 
du-.k. TunriN. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The rendezvous in lipping Forest. Turpin and King preparing for an expedition. 
 
 Kin U ' Meantime had busied himself in preparing bis own horse and tbat of 
 Turpin for their adventure ; and, lest any time should be lost upon Dick's 
 arrival, he had thrice examined every buckle and strap, and stood now impa- 
 tiently tapping his riding-whip against the leg of his jockey-boot. 
 
 " This is a pretty turn-out, Georgy, my buck. I'm of opinion that it might 
 almost be as well to start at once — he'll follow us, surely; and we can leave 
 
 a slip of paper to tell him but no," continued Tom, checking himself, 
 
 " correspondence is dangerous ; no man should trust himself in black and 
 white, where — " 
 
 A whistle was heard outside. 
 
 "There He is at last!" said Fielder and King at the same moment; 
 "better late than never." 
 
 Turpin hastily entered. 
 
 " Why George," exclaimed he, " how happens this ? I've sworn a good 
 half hour away at the place of meeting behind the church. Ready and sad- 
 dled, eh' and not a bit too soon either,I suppose." 
 
 "Indeed not," ret. lied George ; and he briefly explained the circumstance 
 of his meeting with the carriage, and his hastening to the cave in search of 
 Turpin. 
 
 " Well ; " I met. with a strange chance," said Dick ; or I would have been 
 
 here before. - Sauntering down the road, I cast my eye <-m the 'Old 
 
 Weston Arms ;' the creaking sign looked dusty and dim, but n new name ou 
 
 a bright ground showed staringlv beneath it ; so I e'en lounged in. WhiLf 
 
 No. 21. 
 
162 
 
 taking a glass of ale, a man alighted, the bearer of a letter for the Hall. 
 He had just executed his errand, and stopped to wet his whistle • so I 
 was unexpectedly the listener to a curious conversation between the landlord 
 and the new comer. The affair of my discovery and escape from Denistoun Hall 
 was talked of; it is, I find, no secret here. The man, who had come from Lin- 
 colnshire, added to the village news intelligence of an extraordinary kind. It 
 
 seems that the villain, whose execution took place some week or so since " 
 
 Turpin paused momentarily; " but that's passed — I'll think of it no more 
 
 did one good deed before he forfeited his life. He has exposed the Baronet as 
 the thief of his father's will, by which a large share of the property was 
 secured to Madeline Lady Denistoun — and under which even I possess a claim as 
 the representative of her who — in short, Bevis and his daughter are also claim- 
 ants, and I alone am left to enforce their rights; and as sure as Sir Litton Wes- 
 ton is a knave — if no worse — shall he find me. a creditor not to be fobbed off. 
 Now, as you understand the state of the business, you don't wonder at the 
 hurry he shows to be off; and, as we're something like two hours behind them, 
 let's be off too. I've been maundering, confound it, about the neighbourhood 
 looking at old scenes and recalling old times : but this is no time to think 
 of them. However I don't know that there's anything I've met with to im- 
 prove my opinion of the worthy Baronet. We must not stand prating here, 
 though ; and what's more, it won't do at all for the three of us to go gallop- 
 ping along the road. What do you think of my scheme? I'll ride forward 
 and look after the Baronet — he'll certainly not clear more than twenty miles 
 this evening — and do you follow me, either by cart, on foot, or any other 
 mode which may best serve your need. Our first place of meeting shall be 
 Chelmsford, for to that town I am convinced he has gone. At any rate we 
 can't be much out of his track, from what I learnt by chance half an hour 
 since.'' 
 
 King and Fielder assented, and Dick was soon on the road. Sir Litton, 
 however, had made no great speed ; and after a smart ride of fifteen miles, 
 our hero found the post-horses, which the Baronet had discharged, standing 
 at the door of the inn where he had dined and changed horses. He had the 
 satisfaction too, of learning that he had scarcely departed ten minutes ; and 
 on gallopping to a rising ground saw the carriage rolling leisurely along. 
 The next stage, as he knew the country well, he was aware would present no 
 opportunity for their enterprise ; he therefore retraced his road, and had the 
 satisfaction of shortly meeting his two comrades, making the best of their way 
 in a light cart to the place of rendezvous. The position of affairs was soon 
 explained. After a short consultation, it was decided on that Fielder, whose 
 person was unknown to both Sheepshanks and the Baronet, should ride on 
 and put up at the inn where Sir Litton might stay for the night. 
 
 Fielder sped well. After watching at a cautious distance the progress of 
 the carriage, it stopped at the principal hotel in the town of Chelmsford. 
 Fielder scraped an acquaintance with the valet of Sir Litton; and before 
 midnight, on the plea of anxiety to arrive at Colchester on important business, 
 he, with many expressions of reluctance at leaving such good society, quitted 
 the company, and in a few minutes joined his companions at an obscure 
 publirhouse. 
 
 " Well, my Britons," said he on entering a small room, where none but the 
 pair were present ; " the thing's as good as done. Old Parchment and the 
 Worshipf il will be off with the morning's light. Up with the lark, lads, and 
 
DICK TURPIN. 163 
 
 off. They're going to France ; and I'm much mistaken if there's not mora 
 than either of us guess in their cargo. Four or five portmanteaus, the plate- 
 chest, and an imperial stuffed full of something, are in an out-house, while one 
 or two smaller boxes are stowed in the apartment of Sir Litton himself. The 
 valet has the valuables I first spoke of in charge ; we might manage them, 
 perhaps, by the morning — what say you ?" 
 
 "Certainly not, George," said King; "what's most worth and least bulky 
 is within ; besides, we should only rob Boniface by borrowing the things on 
 his premises ; and the cream of the jest is lost if he can get back his property 
 by prosecuting the innkeeper. No, no ! we'll do the thing another guess 
 fashion." 
 
 " The early morning will suit us best," observed Dick ; " leave it to me." 
 The first grey of dawn had not yet streaked the east as three men stood in 
 earnest yet low converse beneath the shelter of a huge oak, distant some 
 twenty yards from the roadside, within a short mile east of Chelmsford. They 
 had not waited long before one of them, walking to a slight rising-ground, 
 gave signal of the approach of a carriage ; and with hasty steps rejoined 
 the men he had just left. 
 
 The heavy coach neared them at a lazy trot; it passed a turn in the road 
 which concealed it from the view of any traveller who might approach from 
 the direction leading from the town. The valet slumbered soundly on the 
 box of the vehicle, and withinside the passengers were also enjoying a com. 
 fortable nap. The postilion was immersed in a profound cogitation, the gist 
 of which was, to decide the colour, quality, price, and quantity of riband he 
 should purchase at Colchester as a present to the wench on whom he had fixed 
 his affections. An occasional twinge of jealousy arose as the thought 
 intruded itself how the damsel aforesaid had accepted, with alacrity and 
 seeming pleasure, a red-leather housewife from a rival, the ostler at the Lion : 
 and that too, though he had, out of pure and disinterested friendship, previously 
 cautioned her as to the faithless character of the man. He was jogging on, 
 seeing nothing and absorbed in self, when he was brought up " all stand- 
 ing," as sailor's would phrase it, by a salute after the following fashion : — 
 
 " Stand!" and he suddenly became aware of the presence of two masked 
 men, who had each possessed himself of the bridle of one of his horses. Nor 
 was the suddenness of the surprise less with the inside travellers. They 
 too, were enjoying a sleeping nap as profound as their driver's waking one; 
 and arrived at a sense of their situation by an equally laconic address. 
 
 "The Lord have mercy on us!" exclaimed Sheepshanks, seizing the slum- 
 bering Sir Litton by the arm. The coach-door opened, and displayed a pistol, 
 with its muzzle pointed at his head. 
 
 " Sit down, you yelping cur," said the unwelcome visitor, "or I'll give you 
 the contents of this." 
 
 Octavius needed no second bidding. Sir Litton, whom long travel and a 
 harassed mind, had soundly locked in the arms of 
 
 "Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep/' 
 
 snored on. 
 
 " Come down, sir," said one of the men at the horses' heads, to the valet. 
 The man, seeing resistance was useless, obeyed 1 . He was ordered to betake 
 himself to a bank, and seat himself by the roadside : this order loo he com- 
 plied with A general rummage of the trunks behind the carriage, beneath 
 
iC4 DICK TURPIN 
 
 the box, and on its top, followed ; this was carried on by George, and most 
 heartily did he pursue the search. Articles of massive plate and other valu- 
 ables were cast on the road as he proceeded, but the amount of cash found 
 was next to nothing. 
 
 " We must disturb the gentleman, I'm thinking," said Dick, leaving the 
 horses, from which they had compelled the postboy to dismount. " Keep your 
 iron pointed at the sleeper," whispered he to King; "never mind about the 
 smirking lawyer;" and Turpin stepped into the low and wide carriage. On the 
 seat beside Sir Litton lay a small iron-bound box, and on the opposite one a 
 large leathern portmanteau. The former Dick handed out to his companion, 
 and was in the act of laying hold of the latter, when he saw the little lawyer 
 deal his master a sharp kick on the leg. The Baronet muttered an oath, and 
 Turpin, in his momentary anger, dealt Sheepshanks a blow with the back of 
 his hand. 
 
 " Murder ! murder ! " shrieked the terrified coward. 
 
 Dick placed his hand on his bleeding mouth to stop his cries. Sir Litton 
 awoke, and unconsciously seized Turpin by the collar; the place was too 
 confined for anything but a close struggle, the portmanteau was dragged from 
 the carriage by King, and at the same instant the Baronet awoke to the fact 
 that he was being robbed. He was a powerful man, and Dick, who wished 
 to disengage himself from his grasp, though unwilling to do him a serious 
 injury, tried in vain to disentangle himself. The Baronet roared lustily for 
 assistance, antf his valet, who was no coward, seeing King and Turpin with 
 their hands full, rushed to the rescue. Snatching a massive flagon from the 
 ground, he aimed a desperate blow at Fielder ; he had better remained where 
 he was ; for King, who still held the portmanteau at one end by its handle, 
 raising it suddenly, swung it with all his strength against the shoulders of 
 the man, and laid him sprawling on the road. Meantime our hero was sore 
 beset. The little lawyer, seeing his master in close struggle with the high- 
 wayman, mustered courage, and attempted to seize Turpin by the legs, in the 
 hopes of pulling him down, but received so hearty a compliment in the stomach 
 as sent his diminutive person plump into the lap of King, who was just ad- 
 vancing to the coach door. Tom repaid the salute by a kick in his back- 
 side, followed by a hit in the back, which laid him also prostrate ; and 
 seizing Sir Litton by the leg in his turn, dragged him and Turpin, of whom 
 he would not release his hold, out of the carriage. Dick immediately regained 
 his feet. 
 
 " Villains!" gasped Sir Litton, " do you know — " 
 
 "Exactly so, my dear Sir," laughed turpin ; " but there are other villains 
 beside highwaymen. Call your constables, my dear Sir Justice. 'Seize him,' I 
 believe you said, last time I'd the honour of seeing you in Lincolnshire, eh?" 
 
 " Turpin as I live ! " exclaimed he. " 1 throw myself on your mercy. You 
 are a bold, and I hope a generous man, and will not harm me now I'm in 
 your power." 
 
 "I've only come to claim my wife's legacy," said Dick, "that you'll own is 
 mere justice, though I shall of course expect a trifle to reward these gentle- 
 men, whom I have professionally engaged to assist me in its recovery. I believe 
 Mr. Sheepshanks that's correct. I can't at the present moment stand here to 
 tax the bill of costs, but if there's any more than they thmk right, why we'll 
 return the balance." 
 
 The highwaymen laughed, and the Baronet, stared in mute astonishment. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 165 
 
 "This baggage will be heavy, my good sir," continued Dick to Sir Litton, 
 " and will take time for its removal. Blindfold the gentleman," and he made 
 a sign to Fielder. The operation'was quickly performed, amid loud remon- 
 strances from the baronet. His hands were tied, and the same kind offices 
 performed for the valet and Mr. S., which they patiently submitted to. 
 
 "And now, my good sir," said Turpin, addressing the post-boy, "we'll 
 proceed to provide for you." A handkerchief then passed over his eyes ; 
 and the highwaymen consulted apart from their prisoners for a few moments. 
 
 " Leave the carriage to me,'' said Dick ; " I know the cross-roads well. I'll 
 take the post-boy to drive me ; and with the aid of Sir Litton's travelling robe 
 and cap, I'll manage to convoy the swag, never fear. Meanwhile, do you and 
 George escort our blindfolded friend — his servant, and the lawyer, to yonder 
 sand-pits. But don't, if you can help it, leave 'em for two hours ; by which 
 time I'll undertake the thing shall be done clean, or don't trust Dick Turpin 
 again." 
 
 Dick's plan was assented to ; and the three prisoners were moved off, under 
 the escort of King and Fielder. Dick watched them as they skirted a hedge 
 near the common. No sooner had" he lost sight of them than, unbanda- 
 ging the postilion, he bad him mount his saddle ; and promising him an 
 instant bullet, should he attempt any trick or treachery, he directed him to 
 the right, down a cross road, by which, making a detour to the south and 
 west, he might regain the highway, some miles on the London side of 
 Chelmsford. Having effected this without interruption or suspicion, his next 
 care was to secure the more valuable portion of the property. This was soon 
 effected ; and giving strict injunctions to the postilion to drive slowly towards 
 town, Dick left him, after transferring the money and plate to a hiding place 
 in the forest ; taking the precaution however, of again blindfolding the pos- 
 tilion and removing him to a dry ditch, where he could not observe the pro- 
 ceedings, before so doing. 
 
 We will now return to follow Sir Litton and his two unlucky fellow-tra- 
 vellers. They moved on in utter ignorance of the way they were going until 
 they arrived at the cartway leading to some disused sand-pits. This was the 
 spot selected by the highwaymen for their sojourn until the booty should have 
 been conveyed to some place of safety; and here they compelled their three 
 prisoners to lie down, each on his back, under strong threats should they 
 attempt alarm or escape. It may well be supposed that Sir Litton was in no 
 very enviable frame of mind. He preserved a sullen silence. The valet had 
 most to say for himself; and was loud in his declarations of indignation at the 
 ungentlemanly treatment to which he was subject. Fielder was immensely 
 amused. He and King kept up a running fire of joke on the piteous aspect 
 and bearing of the little lawyer, which seemed by no means calculated to abate 
 his ill-humour: indeed, his spleen seemed more than once to get the better of 
 his fears, for he replied now and then to their jestings with a bitterness which 
 added vastly to the merriment of his tormentors. 
 
 " Did Dick ever tell you," asked Fielder, in an undertone to his companion, 
 " how that little venomous reptile once tried to shoot one of us — I suppose 
 he didn't care which — when we stopt him near Snaresbrook V 
 
 "Ay," replied Tom ; " but is this the real, the identical little cheat-devi] 
 who tried to pop off our bold comrade ? If you are sure of it, it would be n 
 pity not to give him some little joke to tell, if it was only that he might le- 
 
 ~^>er us an friends of gallant Dick.'* 
 
10« DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " What say you to ducking him ?" suggested Fielder ; " here's a shallow 
 pond hard by, and it would be only following up what we meant to do on that 
 occasion, if we had not been interrupted. Mr. Sheepshanks," continued Fielder. 
 " a friend of mine has just proposed that a ducking, which has been a long 
 time overdue, should now be paid. I suppose you remember firing a pistol at 
 one of our friends on this road some few years ago, and some passers-by for- 
 tunately rescuing you from a taste of the next horse-pond, eh ?" 
 
 Mr. Sheepshanks replied not. He was convinced that silence would be 
 discreet, and therefore, like a detected thief before a committing magistrate, 
 he wisely " reserved what he had to say for another place.*' Fielder had 
 certainly a genius for a practical joke. A few words passed in a whisper 
 between himself and King ; the latter laughed heartily, and said : — 
 
 " Split me, George, but you're a droll fish. 'Pon honour tho', it would be 
 rather too bad ; for the fright might kill the chicken-hearted little scoundrel. 
 But do as you like ; he deserves a drill for his conduct, on more accounts than 
 one." 
 
 _ " Sirrah lawyer!" exclaimed Fielder, throwing a determined sternness into 
 h.'s tone — though, if poor Octavius could have seen the speaker's face, he 
 would have beheld it struggling to maintain its gravity, — " Sirrah lawver! 
 it has been represented to me that you have been guilty of attemptino- the life 
 of an honester man than yourself. Now, this is a sad crime against society:^ 
 had you blown out your own brains for a rascally knave, none could have 
 grumbled ; but it appears you have more than once attempted to shorten the 
 existence of the brave Captain Turpin ; you are therefore sentenced to be 
 thrown from the highest cliff into the next adjoining gravel-pit, and the Lord 
 have mercy on your wicked soul ! " 
 
 Mr. Sheepshanks listened to this address in bewildered fear. Fielder made 
 a sign to King, and taking hold of poor Sheepshanks, each by an arm, they 
 raised him to his feet ; they then led him about among the small sand-heaps 
 in the bottom of the pit for a few minutes, to produce upon his mind the 
 impression that he had walked some distance. The alarm of the lawyer was 
 increased by their placing over his head a cloth which completely enveloped 
 it, and fastening the same round his neck. Meanwhile Fielder gave vent to 
 the most horrid imprecations of revenge. The two hours stipulated between 
 the highwaymen had now expired. They walked slowly up the cartway by 
 which they had entered, and led Sheepshanks, more dead than alive, to the 
 side of the pit : it was scarped and perpendicular, but not more than ten feet 
 in depth at that part ; and nearly at their feet lay Sir Litton and his valet, 
 still bound and blindfolded. " Shall we throw him over here? " asked Fielder, 
 in a low whisper, with a wink of the eye at King. 
 
 " No ! curse him," growled Tom ; " that, would be too good a death for 
 the wretch ; let's — " The rest was lost in horrid indistinctness. 
 
 " For the love of Christ ! Oh ! mercy, mercy, pray, for the love of heaven !" 
 shrieked Octavius, in a paroxysm of terror : " Spare me, and I'll swear; spare 
 me, and I'll never — Oh Lord! Oh Lord ! I'll pray for " 
 
 Fielder had much ado to keep himself from a horse-langh. " We must 
 not dally," said King, in a voice which would have made the fortune of a 
 Coburg-theatre assassin. " Blood for blood ! Stay, we'll leave him time for 
 repentance — time while he can hang over this brink and pray to the heaven 
 he has outraged." The two highwaymen seized him by the shoulders, and 
 thrusting his legs over the side of the pit, lowered him' gradually. " Now 
 
DICK TUM'IN. 107 
 
 hold fast," said Fielder, thrusting the fingers of one of the lawyer's hands into 
 the turf; while King did the same by the other. The terrified Sheepshanks 
 swung his feet to and fro within the pit — no'support met them. He was fully 
 aware of his dreadful position : he clung to the earth with the gripe of despair, 
 and prayed, in the intensity of his agony, with a fervour that might get 
 even a lawyer into heaven. 
 
 Fielder and King departed with hasty steps, while poor Octavius, who could 
 spare no hand even to release his eyes, clutched with straining sinews the 
 moist ground. His bodily strength was never great ; and, though his carcase 
 was by no means heavy, he felt sure that all must soon be over. He listened 
 — his assassins were surely gone : his faculties were sharpened by terror, and 
 he distinctly heard the bloodthirsty villains' laughter borne on the cool breeze. 
 They were running away — there could be no doubt of it. He collected his 
 remaining energies for one mighty effort, and he struck his toes against the per- 
 pendicular wall of sand ; but the faithless, friable dirt, crumbled, and refused 
 a foothold. " Could I but once raise my Knee to the surface level," thought 
 he, " I am saved! Shall I cry aloud? No; they will return, and murder 
 me ! I'll try it ! " exclaimed he, desperately. The perspiration poured down 
 his forehead, as he worked up his resolution for the dread attempt. He 
 sprang upward ; his digging fingers stuck firmly in the soil , and with one knee 
 he had reached the top of the bank, when a huge fragment of earth gave way 
 beneath the pressure of the limb ; he slipped downward ; a larger piece, the 
 sole support of his grasping hands, detached itself; and, with a scream, the 
 wretched victim fell back into the abyss. 
 
 "Hell and fury!" exclaimed Sir Litton, struggling to his feet, as the 
 staggering, and bewildered Sheepshanks deposited his seat of honour plump 
 on his countenance, while a rattling shower of loose earth followed the un- 
 
 courteous salute. " D n! what's the meaning of this ?" and he dealt a 
 
 stumbling kick on the prostrate lawyer's carcase, and fell ; he plucked the 
 bandage from his eyes, and, to his astonishment, beheld at his feet his faint- 
 ing and senseless legal adviser. " Linton,'' said he to his valet, " get up." The 
 man obeyed. 
 
 " They're gone at last, I believe," said Linton, looking round apprehen- 
 sively. 
 
 " I see they are," said his master, " but what the devil's the meaning of 
 all this? I thought they were murdering poor Sheepy here, he's been making 
 so many supplications for mercv, and they've finished by throwing him into 
 the pit this veiy moment, so they can't yet have got far ; yet, unarmed as we 
 are, it would perhaps be wise to be still a bit. I'm a ruined man any how,'* 
 muttered Sir Litton to himself, as the thought of his loss obtruded itself. 
 " See to Sheepshanks, Linton ; I hope he's not seriously hurt." 
 
 Some cold water was thrown on the face of Octavius and his friends had very 
 soon the satisfaction of seeing him restored to animation. He had received no 
 injury ; but they were for a long time in some doubts of his sanity, so 
 strongly was his imagination impressed with the idea of having fallen from 
 an immense height* The valet after several reconnoitrings of the common, 
 having announced the coast to be clear, the trio took their way towards a 
 farm house some mile or so distant from the solitary spot where they had 
 spent three such memorably unpleasant hours 
 
106 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 — Unreasoning reason, 
 To set perverseness on its heavenly throne 
 As man doth use: banishing the sun's light 
 To walk by smoky lamps. Oh yes, ye brute 
 Ye are our betters, and I bow to ye ; 
 For ye have used your talent to the full, 
 Poor though it be ; while with our higher one, 
 And godlier — we've buried it in mire, 
 An outcast jewel. — 
 
 Ernest; 
 
 The prophet wept for Israel; wish'd his eyes 
 Were fountains fed with infinite supplies : 
 For Israel dealt in robbery and wrong ; 
 There were the scorner's and the slanderer's tongue 
 Oaths, used as playthings or convenient tools, 
 As interest biass'd knaves, or fashion fools; 
 Adultery neighing at his neighbour's door ; 
 Oppression, labouring hard to grind the poor ; 
 The partial balance, and deceitful weight ; 
 The treacherous smile, a mask for secret hate ; 
 Hypocrisy, formality in prayer, 
 And the dull service of the lip were there. 
 ****** 
 
 The temple and its holy rites profaned 
 By mummeries, He that dwelt in it disdain'd; 
 Uplifted hands, that at convenient times 
 Could act extortion and the worst of crimes, 
 Wash'd with a neatness scrupulously nice, 
 And free from every taint but that of vice. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Itf a narrow street in Houndsditch dwelt Moses Solomons, ©»e of the 
 despised and scattered race of the sons of Israel. It was the Sabbath night; 
 and the door had been kept closed, in compliance with his creed, during the 
 day — for Solomons, though within an unscrupulous scoundrel, was ceremoni- 
 ously precise in making clean " the outside of the platter." A rap at the 
 small hatch of his dwelling called him forth. A woman desired a little 
 private talk on business ; and she was shown into a small parlour behind the 
 frowzy-smelling shop. The visitor was Madge Dutton : her dress was dirty, 
 and her looks squalid. 
 
 "Veil, Mishtriss Madge," said Solomons, "vat's de bishne^s now? 
 S'help me but a'm very poor : dat vash a pad bishness dat last I dit) for you, 
 as I'm a stunner. A' hope, ma tear, you've not got no more of dem dere 
 copper sheals, nor coot-for-noting vatches. Let's see the lot, tho', and if a can 
 deal a vill, tho' a musht borrow de monish of a neighbour if ado. Let's see de 
 pargain. Cot help ush! a give too mush monish for everyting: but you're 
 an old cushtomer, Mishtriss Madge, and if a can do bishniss vid you, vy 
 a vill." 
 
 " I've neither gold nor silver, Mr. Solomons,"' replied the woman ; " but 
 I've that which mav bring both. You've heerd o' the topping* of mv man — 
 eh?" 
 
 Mr. Solomons affected ignorance, though he knew well every particular. 
 
 " Cot persherve us !" exclaimed he ; " is it de truth a' hear ? Vot, mishter 
 Torpin, vot a' heerd vos takin' a fancy to ye ?" 
 
 " No!" said Madge, testily ; " not he: who told you he had taken a fancy 
 to me f" 
 
 " A'U not be shure vore a' vos heerin it," said the wily Jew ; " but a've heer 
 
 • Execution. 
 
ores -ruiipm 
 
 169 
 
 jsnfflfflhMflKQ 
 
 Mad^e wllinff %'ne Weston Puper». 
 
 as it vosh all along rait you, as he vosh leaf his vife and row to Lont'>n. 
 
 Put dat ish notin to de purposh ; vofe ish te coots if dey are needer cold nor 
 
 *hilver ?" 
 
 Madge replied by drawing from beneath her dirty shawl a packet tied «i ife 
 
 green silk riband, having an outer covering of white vellum. She flanced at 
 
 the door of the room suspiciously as she did this; and Mr. Solomons, taking 
 
 the hint, rose from his seat, secured it by a small square bolt beneath tha 
 
 lock, and resumed his chair. 
 
 The woman proceeded to state that, though unable to read the contents 
 
 of the parchments she held, yet she had no doubt of their beino- of great 
 value; a conclusion to which she had come from many mysterious ex- 
 pressions of Dennis, to the effect that their possession would one day make 
 his fortune. He had, moreover, upon more than one occasion declared to 
 ber that, in the event of circumstances rendering it necessary for him to fly. 
 the country, these papers would always be a reserve to which he could appeal 
 for the means of so doing; that these declarations he had always associated- 
 with dark hints of the pjwer he possessed over the character of hU former 
 No. 22 
 
lfO DICK T UK PIN. 
 
 master, Sir Litton Weston ; and she wound up the whole by saying that, 
 having no resource left but these documents, and not knowing in what way 
 to render them available for the relief of her present pressing necessities, she 
 had applied to him (Mr. Solomons) as a likely person either to assist her, or 
 to put her in the way of turning into money the writings, should they prove 
 upon examination to be valuable. 
 
 The Jew listened with eager attention, though pretended indifference, to 
 Madge's statement; shook his head doubtfully, and said : — 
 
 " Veil, a' can't say as a' see anyting dat can be done. It vould be vorse 
 nor a pig in a poke — and a' vouldn't like to puy von any vay — to gif hard 
 inonish for poor ould sheepskin, vot no von can tell is vorth anyting." 
 
 Meantime Solomons had clutched the packet, and untying the riband with 
 his teeth, threw out several tape-bound packets on the table. He opened the 
 largest of them, and stared perplexedly at the large engrossed heading. Mr. 
 Solomons, like most of his race, was extremely illiterate, though eminently 
 shrewd ; the cramp engrossing of the law-hand completely puzzled him ; and 
 " %W i$ th2 last UBill anO 3Lestatmnt } " in the text-heading, was all he 
 could decipher. He looked over one skin after the other, for there were 
 several in the instrument ; and gazed earnestly at the various seals and sig- 
 natures to the document and its codicils ; but saw no clue to their contents, 
 save the repetition of the old Baronet's signature, and the impressed coat- 
 armour by its side. 
 
 " It's shum nobilman's vill,*' said the Israelite internally, " and may be of 
 rally ; but how am a to tell?" 
 
 Madge watched the selfish features of the Jew anxiously, as he pursued 
 his examination. Solomons, by a sidelong glance, caught her eager expres- 
 sion ; he threw down the parchment, and leant back in his chair with his 
 hands before him. 
 
 " You see, mishtress Madge," said he, with an air of indifference, " dat a'd 
 like to do anyting as ish reasonbie to obleege you; but it ish neshessary — for 
 dese ish pad times, fery pad times — for everypody to look to demselves. 
 A'm shure it's creat rishks vot a* runs every day to sherve ma cushtomers. 
 Dere's mushter Wild, Jonathan I mean, vosh lose his life, clever as he vosh 
 all trough dis meddlin vid writins. A vish it vosh anyting else you vished 
 to shell — anyting in de regler vay, a might get te monish ; but you see none 
 of my peoplsh vill lend me noting on dese ould papers. If you vill leave dem 
 here for to-morrow, vich ish de firsht day of de veek, a vill shee a shentleman 
 as has got monish ; an' maybe he may do someting for you." 
 
 To this Madge sturdily objected. She knew Mr. Solomons too well to 
 trust the deeds out of her sight ; she therefore replied — 
 
 "Well, I see you and I can't deal; so it's no use losing time. I've not 
 broke fast since yesterday, and I'll go and call on mother Jacobs in Petticoat 
 Lane : she'll stand a bob* or two on 'em, and chance it, till I can release 
 em. 
 
 So saying she caught the documents up in hasty anger, and passing the 
 riband round them, walked towards the door. Solomons eyed her in silence, 
 until he saw she was really bent on going; and then stopped her, when her 
 hand was on the lock, by saying : — 
 
 " Veil, a think you might ha vaited till a said vether a vould lend you a 
 
 * A SliiUiug. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 171 
 
 trifle, afore you shtarted off in dat manner. Mother Jacobs vill lend you 
 noting on 'em, a know veil enough; beshides, if you must go borrow till you 
 can take 'em up agin, a didn't say as a vouldn't lend you noting ; put you're 
 so very short ven von means noting put right, so you are.'' 
 
 Madjre returned to the table, and Solomons went on : — 
 
 " Now a'll tell you wot a'll do ; and dat's more nor mishtris Jacobs, as 
 you're so fond on, vould do for yer if she seed yer shtarvin. A'll sheuJ fc 
 ma friend mishter Aprams, de lawyer, and he shall look at de tings; and if so 
 be anyting is vorth havin', vya'll give you all he says is the vorth on 'em — 
 dere!" 
 
 The last monosyllable was delivered by the Jew with an emphasis, as if to 
 express even his own astonishment at the incautious liberality of his munificent 
 proposal ; Madge, however, knew her customer too well to be in the least 
 moved from her ordinary composure by the generous announcement. 
 
 " I don't mind who I sells 'em to, providing I gets the money," replied she 
 sulkily; " an' I suppose you won't buy without you gets money's worth. So, 
 if so be this mister Abrams is handy, I'll wait for him ; but I won't leave the 
 writings, and that's flat." 
 
 "Rachel, ma tear!'' cried Mr. Solomons, opening the door; and a small, 
 black-eyed, cunning specimen of Hebrew humanity presented herself. Site 
 came into the room ; and Mr. Solomons, holding the door to with one hand— 
 a halht acquired by continual suspicion and illegal traffic — directed the child 
 to the house of Mr. Abrams, with a message that her father desired to see 
 him. That personage, ever alive to business, returned with the messenger. 
 He was a heavy, fleshy-faced, sansuai-looking man ; and the brutal expression 
 of his thick countenance was not much improved by the leering and sinister 
 expression of a pair of d^ep-set eyes, which had never been known to 
 look straight in the face of man, woman, or child. He was attired in profes- 
 sional black, and wore a white pudding neckcloth ; and in lieu of the 
 stocking, the ordinary costume of the day, his huge calves were encased in 
 black cloth gaiters. Mr. Abrams had the reputation of being the most suc- 
 cessful (which means the most unscrupulous) Old Bailey attorney of his day. 
 He had the credit of having defrauded justice of her due in more glaring 
 instances of guilt than any other man ; and, having amassed wealth in the 
 respectable calling of defeating and rendering inoperative the laws which 
 society has framed for the protection of honesty and industry, was respected 
 accordingly. It is true that he was pretty generally known to have taken a share 
 in the compounding of numerous felonies, but then they were of that important 
 and extensive class which, from the amount of property involved, could afford 
 a respectable commission on their arrangement : cases where the plunder was 
 ruin to the parties robbed, unless some such public benefactor as Mr. Abrams 
 stepped in to negociate its return for " a consideration." He was, besides, 
 eminently distinguished for his ability in assisting the escape of felons (who 
 could pay him), by h?« extraordinary astuteness in discovering a flaw in an 
 indictment — some misdescription, or an erroneous orthography ; slips which, in 
 the eye of a lawyer, break down all distinctions between innocence and guilt, 
 or right and wrong. Such was the wealthy, and therefore the worthy, Mr. 
 Abrams — the thieves' attorney ; and had it not been for the unfortunate bar 
 of Judaism — who knows (since Judaism was then a bar) but that the prosperous 
 lawyer, grown fat on the spoils of robbing robbers, and plundering the 
 plundered, might not, as " an eminent professional man," have arrived at higfc 
 
l?2 DICK TURPI *T. 
 
 public honours — nay, have aspired even to the magisterial chair of the great 
 city which was honoured by giving him birth. As it was however, in those 
 days of illiberality, his religious profession (not his worldly one) prevented hi.i 
 rising beyond a private station; and the rich Mr. Abrams vegetated among 
 his " peoplsh" in the obscurity of Houndsditch. This important personage 
 shot one of his sinister glances at Madge — slightly nodded his head to 
 Solomons — and said, in a brattling voice — 
 
 " Evening, Mishter S. ! jist 'bout to take a littel turn of a valk ven your 
 Rachel came — noish little shild dat Rachel, marm — " turning to Madge, " verra 
 'cute — Rachel 's very mosh a favourite o' mine." 
 
 Having thus introduced himself, Mr. Solomons stated to him the business 
 Upon which he had sent to solicit his advice, occasionally treating Abrams 
 with a wink, unobserved by Madge, to convey the fact that she was necessi- 
 tous^ and might be imposed on ; though the speech of Mr. Solomons was 
 artfully filled with professions of his great anxiety to deal, not only justly, 
 but even generously in the transaction. Indeed, to have heard the worthy manj 
 one must have concluded that nothing but a sympathy with the necessities of 
 the applicant could have induced him to meddle in a transaction so certain to 
 produce nothing in the shape of profit, and so fraught with danger to himself. 
 While the Jew thus spoke, Mr. Abrams slowly inspected the various docu- 
 ments. Lavater himself could have read nothing in that countenance varying 
 from its habitual cunning and villany. He scanned over the various 
 writings with as little expression, either of satisfaction or disapprobation, 
 as if their figured surfaces had presented one continuous blank. Having 
 gone through the whole, he said, — 
 
 M A hardly know vot to say to dis. They mav be of some value to the 
 rate owners, but a don't tink 'em of no vorth to no von else. Dis von (taking 
 np an unimportant draft of an agreement which, by its conditions, had long 
 since expired) might be of some use to de owner if it vosh stamped; but de 
 resht is noting. Neverdeless, as iMishter Solomons says he vishes to befriend 
 you, and you seem a goot sort of voman, I will give a ginny, upon the repay- 
 ment of vich a vill let you haf dem all back agin — but den a musht haf 'em 
 redeemed vitaiu von month, or else a vill haf cut dem all up for tailors' 
 measures." 
 
 Madge was in no position to refuse money; and it appearing doubtful to her 
 whether more could be made of them, after a little haggling she accepted the 
 coin, a light one, and took her departure; Mr. Abrams previously hinting by 
 a conversation at Madge, but addressed to Mr. Solomons, that the penalty of 
 transportation to Antigua would be the result of discovery to her, but of course 
 not making the remotest allusion to any punishable offence as regarded their 
 part of the transaction. 
 
 No sooner had Madge's footsteps died away than the respectable Mr. 
 Abrams altered mightily in his manner. He closed the door — examined its 
 fastenings — then, drawing a chair, he seated himself on the opposite side of 
 the fire to Mr. Salomons, and stirring the wood with vigour, till it shot into a 
 cheerful blaze, trimmed the lamp. Solomon watched him with an expression 
 of inquisitiveness on his filthy and selfish face. 
 
 "Lishten, cousin," said Abrams, "our fortin ish made ; but you must give 
 me something more den half in dis affair, for vidout me you would have got 
 Doting." 
 
 JUr. Solomons objected in limine to this proposal, and jk a few minute* 
 
DICK TURPI S. 173 
 
 the two 'Jews were engaged in an arduous battle of the wits, as to which 
 s'.i mid do the other " in a business way ;" for upon the "honour among 
 thieves" principle, it was only by an admitted advantage on the one hand, or 
 oversight on the other, that a " coot pargain," i. e., an unfair adjustment, 
 cm id take place. The documents were, as the reader may already know, the 
 la*t will of the good Sir Mark Weston, which Sir Litton had purloin* d on 
 the night of his death, and which had so singularly come into the possession 
 of Dennis, together with other deeds of the Weston family of great import- 
 ance ; and Mr. Abranu and his client did not separate until a late hour — so 
 keen was the encounter of their wits, and so numerous the projects of their 
 fertita brains, as to the best means of procuring the largest possible profit from 
 this lucky windfall. 
 
 We left Sir Albert Denistoun, who had possessed himself of the paper of 
 instructions for the recovery of the deeds, dictated by Dennis, on his road to 
 London. That paper stated Madge to be the depositary of the documents, and 
 gave directions for her discovery. Sir Albert was desirous of avoiding any 
 personal communication with his brother-in-law in relation to the recent 
 disgraceful affair, for he feared lest his indignation at his rascality might 
 betray him into some act which might inflict pain on the estimable Lady 
 Denistoun; he therefore set about the search in person. He sent for Ferret, 
 who had become known to him in connexion with the appreher*>ion of Dennis, 
 and consulted him upon the affair; and that worthy undertook to do his utmost, 
 being stimulated thereto by a large promised reward. 
 
 But we must return to Sir Litton. The three unfortunates made their way 
 to the farm-house before spoken of, and the good people, upon hearing 
 the disaster which had befallen them, not only ministered to their immediate 
 wants, but, on ascertaining the rank of Sir Litton, turned out their best 
 vehicle and "crack" horse; and, under the charge of "joltering Giles," 
 nightfall saw them again under the roof of Weston Hall. The recent loss had 
 determined Sir Litton to stay; and further reflection on the posture of affairs 
 suggested to him that his sister's good heart might be so practised on as to 
 confine the mischief to the mere exposure, and to a small sacrifice of property 
 on his part. 
 
 Numerous were the consultations between the Baronet and the lawyer, aa 
 to the most advisable course to be pursued. The first advice of Sheepshanks 
 was to address Lady Denistoun, and endeavour to make the best possible bargain 
 in the way of restitution ; but this was rejected : and as time and their councils 
 went on, and no intimation arrived, either from the legal adviser of Denistoun, 
 or directly from Lady Madeline, their schemes assumed another complexion. 
 
 "D'ye think," suggested Sheepshanks, "that they've got that will at all? 
 Might we not strike a bold blow for its possession and destruction I This 
 woman must be poor — she is, of course, to be bought. Leave it to me to 
 search her out, and I'll contrive it so that we may stand upon terms with 
 them till we are in a position to defv them to the proof — which rests as 
 yet upon the unsupported declaration of a mere felon." 
 
 Sir Litton at length assented to place the affair in the hands of Sheep- 
 shanks, and the little lawyer, ever zealous to recommend himself, was seen 
 to enter the lodgings of Madge, the afternoon of the Monday succeeding 
 the Saturday's interview with Messrs. Abrams and Solomons, above-men- 
 tioned. 
 
 "Here's a gentleman wants you, Mistress Duttoii," exclaimed a tomato 
 
1M DICK TUP,rW 
 
 In the front parlour or shop, for it was both, in r^ply to Mr. Sheepshank's 
 enquiry. Madge, s'ipshod and in dishabille, peeped down the narrow stair- 
 case, and beheld in the passage a smart and dapper little maji, most 
 unexceptionable attired. She hastened back, thrust a cap upon her head, 
 and desiring that the "gentleman'' might be shown up, stood at the door 
 of the back room on the same landing, into which she retreated, after 
 taking a look and bestowing a smile on Mr. Octavins, as he was shown 
 by her landlady into the front. A couple of minutes were spent by Mr. 
 Sheepshanks in surveying the whitewashed wails and patchwork quilt in 
 this den of vice and misery ; and the same portion of time was consumed by 
 Madge in dragging on a fair of clean stockings belonging to the woman 
 in the said back room; dilating, as she did her slovenly toilette, on the "old 
 swell," and calcu'ating the probabilities of the douceur of a guinea or a seven- 
 shilling piece. This hasty speculation was concluded by a decision in favour of 
 the latter, drawn from the gentlemanly appearance of the visitor; and with a 
 request to her pal, who was still abed wearing off the effects of a gin fever, that 
 she would " wish her luck," Madge tripped smiling and smirking into the apart- 
 ment where Mr. Sheepshanks sat gingerly poising himself on the most solid 
 corner of a ricketty rush-bottomed chair. The little lawyer rose at her entrance, 
 and pulling a grave face, said — for he feared a misunderstanding, — 
 
 " My good madam, 1 have called on you on important and serious business.' 
 
 Madge stared, as if half doubting whether he was in earnest ; but seeing 
 no smile on the face of her visitor, she dismissed her own, which in truth 
 was a forced one, and prepared to listen with becoming gravity to the stranger's 
 communication. 
 
 Mr. Sheepshanks, with professional circumlocution, impressed upon her 
 the importance to her future prospects of placing herself, in the business he 
 was about to broach, entirely under his guidance ; he then spoke of the affairs 
 of Dennis, and gave confidence to Madge by showing the intimate knowledge 
 he possessed of them ; and last of all, offered her a large reward, on condition 
 that she would give up to him, as the agent of Lady Denistoun, (he thought 
 this lie most likely to baffle enquiry,) the documents deposited in her care 
 by Dennis, and of which he gave her an accurate description. 
 
 Unluckily, Mr. Ferret had already been with her, and, in the excess of his 
 munificence, had presented her with a crown, frr which reward she had already 
 acquainted him, under a promise of secresy, where he might find the missing 
 documents. She had no doubt but that the cunning officer had duped her, and was 
 himself about to reap the golden harvest, the right to which she had thus igno- 
 rantly parted with. She therefore held her tongue as to the former negociation r 
 and after coquetting with Octavius for some time, which rendered the lawyer 
 more eager, she, upon the advance of fifty guineas told down, and a promise 
 of the other fifty on the recovery of the deeds, not only informed Sheepshanks 
 of the whole transaction with Solomous, but undertook to show him the house. 
 This, however, Sheepshanks, who, as we need not tell the reader, was an 
 arrant coward, declined from a fear of treachery, but appointed the following 
 evening to meet her, and with "a friend" go down to Houudsditch together 
 to repurchase the parchments. 
 
 The little man flew on the wings of exultation to inform his employer of 
 his success, and the Baronet announced his intention of accompanying him 
 in disguise on this important negotiation. 
 
t)KK TL'RPIN. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 I'm In, and now no hope of safety's ntgh. 
 
 I'm sore beset ; yet like some bold merchant, 
 
 Who, when his long -tossed laden vessel hits 
 
 Against some rock, and with loud horror splits, 
 
 First grasps one Gasket, which doe* all contain, 
 
 Then, desperate, plunges in the foamy main; 
 
 So I to th< e, my prize, my stake, my all, 
 
 While life shall last will cling, nor quit thee till I fall 
 
 Hannibal's Overthrow. By Nat. Lee. 1694. 
 
 Here's a conjunction of the pt.inpts! By St. Christopher this meeting's a rare one; a pretty mingling 
 of .leets and sours; all the devils of contradiction couldn't have made a nicer dish of hell-broth ; 
 no, not if they'd set Lucifer himself with his long ladle to stir the cauldron. 
 
 Ditgo.— Yes : peppered, on my life: much good may it do him. I'd not have my hide so riddled 
 for my cap full of double pistoles. 
 
 —The Spanish Gipsey, by T. Middleton and W. Rowley . 
 
 The cash which Mr. Shpepshanks had given to Madge was not suffered to 
 lie idle; and silks, velvet, cheap and showy jewellery, paint, perfume, patches, 
 powder, and tine linen, had so changed the dirty trull of yesterday to the fine 
 lady of to-day, that none but the practised eye of the man of the world would 
 have suspected them to be one and the same person. We have said Madge 
 was handsome, or rather of that large order of beauty to which the epithet of 
 "showy" has been aptly applied; and now — shining in silk, rich in 
 velvet, and attired in all the pride of splendid-coloured silk stockings, with 
 deep black clocks, shoes edged with silver lace, a bright satin Joseph, and a 
 diamond-quilted petticoat of gaudy brocade— she sailed along Whitechapel, 
 admired by the butchers, and envied and sneered at by the women, a striking 
 illustration of the homely proverb, that "fine feathers make fina birds." 
 
 Gentle reader^ we will let you into the secret of all this unwonted 
 display, or rather into the motive which, superadded to personal vanity, (the 
 last passion which dies in such a woman's breast,) prompted this careful deco- 
 ration. The slight hint of the designing Mr. Solomons had sunk deep into 
 her mind ; and though she knew the systematic lying and deception of her 
 informant, she positively argued herself into a conviction of its entire ti nth. 
 
 " What we wish we easily be'ieve ;" apd Madge, having satisfied her>elf 
 that the Jew cauld have no motive of gain in telling her a falsehood on this 
 point, concluded that Tnrpin had reallv been enquiring her cut. True, at 
 their last interview, lie had been short and abrupt; but that was excused, she 
 thought, by the dreadful circumstance of his wife's death, and her connexion 
 with the murderer. Yet that ought not to weigh auainst her, inasmuch as 
 she had not, nor could have had, any participation in the awful deed. She 
 was walking on, picking her steps, self-absorled, and unheeding the winks, 
 stares, and occasional nudge or berkon of the impudent or idle passer-by , 
 for Madge's beauty and attire were deeply stamped with the je-ne-svai-quoi of 
 her profession ; when her attention was fixed by a man, who after twice 
 staring her rudely in the face as he passed, placed himself directly in front 
 of herj saying, — 
 
U6 DICK Tl'RPIN. 
 
 " D — n it, Madge ! won't you speak ? S'pose you're above it, '.hough," aud 
 he glanced down her attire with a smile. " Coming out not a little, I 
 see — how the deuce it -'* done I can't guess — ha! ha!" 
 
 Madge looked full at the speaker, and recognised the features and voice of 
 George Fielder. She brightened up at the thought of the clue thus oppor- 
 tunely given her, for she doubted not that George could give her information 
 of our hero. George proposed a treat at the bar of a neighbouring liquor- 
 shop, and the woman assented. He was, however, suspicious of Madge's 
 character, and therefore prudently denied all knowledge of the whereabout 
 of Turpin. 
 
 "Though to tell you the truth,'' added he, "you are the very person 
 he has commissioned me to look after. (Madge could not conceal her 
 gratification.) I suppose it's an old story to tell you all about the black 
 'mi's speech, before they sent him to dance upon nothing, and be d— d 
 
 to him — so I'll cut that short. Dick has a claim under the will 
 
 but setting that aside, for he's some odd notions, he's taken it into his 
 noddle that it would be mighty generous and only proper for him to o-et 
 back those parchments, and give 'em up to Sir Albert Denistoun; which 
 he says he should do out of heaven knows what sort of feelings of duty, 
 and respect, and all that sort of thing ; which neither you nor me pre- 
 tend to know much about. Now comes the dodge; give me the papers 
 — I should like to surprise Dick, and it would please him too — and here's 
 ten as bright guineas as ever came out of old George's mint. What d'ye 
 say to it? Am I to have 'em — yes is the word." 
 
 Saying this, Fielder, with his hearty blnntness, drew forth a canvass purse, 
 such as those in ordinary use among farmers and cattle-dealers, and shook it 
 significantly in the palm of his hand. Madge, with the ostentatiot of her 
 precarious profession, had no idea of being outdone. 
 
 " You're very flush of your ochre* jest now, Mister Georgv; but don't think 
 as you're to get all the world in a string in that way. Brag's a good dog, 
 you know; but there's as good as he : I'll show with you (and lifting the skirt 
 of her dress, she dived her hand into some mysterious recesses in her petticoat, 
 and drew forth a long, netted silk-purse, with sliding rings). What d've 
 think of that?" said she, knocking its" heavier end on the counter, while 
 through the meshes of the other she displayed a note or two ; "eh, Mister 
 bounceable? If I give up the writings it 'nil be to the right owner hjsself, 
 and I thinks him Mr. Richard, and no one else ; so it's no use tfying to put 
 the come-over on me with your shabby ten quid."-' i r 
 
 George, after fruitlessly attempting to elicit something more satisfactory, 
 was fain to submit to her views; and Madge, with many asseverations of fide- 
 lity, and of her respect for Dick, prevailed on Fielder to promise to bring 
 them together that evening, Turpin being then in town | fiist, however, stipu- 
 lating that it should be at a place of his own appointing, and not hers; and 
 exonerating himself from all blame in the event of Dick's refusal. 
 
 Turpin unhesitatingly assented to the meeting: he was heart-whole, and 
 had looked on the woman with feelings of perfect iti difference'; and towards 
 night-fall Fielder, Turpin, and Madge, met at a pnblichouse near Bow. 
 
 We have before said that Dick was no hero of the novel-schools but a mere 
 rann, who felt strongly and acted strongly. Of a bold and impetuous tens 
 perame&t; " sudden and quick in quarrel;" but easily appeased. Madge was 
 * Gold t Guineas. 
 
.DICK TURPiN. 
 
 177 
 
 Fielder's Encounter with Madge Du'tuo 
 
 -ill smiles, pleasantry, and frankness; she excused to Dick her deposit of the 
 documents with the Jew — for their sale she did not admit — on the score 
 of her ignorance of the contents ; and did not forget to place her 
 disinterestedness, in the refusal of Fielder's ten guineas, prominently before 
 him. She, moreover, displayed the greatest earnestness in her endeavours 
 to promote the views of Dick in obtaining the papers: and lastly, laid 
 open to him the fact of Mr. Sheepshanks' visit of the day before ; though, of 
 course, knowing no better, she represented him as the messenger of Sir 
 Albert. The large sum, however; the anxiety she described him as having 
 displayed; and the arrangement by which she was to guide him after dai! , 
 on that very evening, to the house if the .lew; seemed to hirq'so unlike 
 the proceedings of a respectable professional man — and such he f« j lt assured Sir 
 Albert would employ — that Dick began more than to suspect all was not as it 
 should be. He therefore questioned Madge closely as to the personal appear- 
 and", manner, and dress of her generous visitor; all which Madge faithfully 
 described Turpin looked significantly at Fielder as Madge concluded a 
 somewhat caricature portrait of the man of law. 
 No. 23 
 
178 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Sheepshanks for a thousand!" 1 exclaimed Fielder. Turn in laoghed\ 
 " I should think it asked no conjuror to guess that," said he : " why, George, 
 we're in luck's way again ; poor latitat will think we deal with his master — - 
 the old gentleman below — ha ! ha !" 
 
 More wine was called for ; Madge warmed into exuberant spirits ; and 
 Dick, who was no stoic, after declaring he never thought her half so handsome, 
 bestowed on her a hearty kiss, to which it may be supposed the lady offered 
 small objection. 
 
 "And now, my dear, if you'll accept my arm," said he, "we'll see you as 
 far as the rendezvous. You shall have your other fifty ; the right owners shall 
 take the documents from the false knaves ;*' and here — truth compels us to 
 declare it, despite the constancy and all that sort of thing which young ladies 
 dream about — Turpin repeated a stronger and closer kiss, improved by the 
 addition of one arm round the waist of the half-resisting Madge ; " and you," 
 added he, " shan't be forgotten." 
 
 Madge saw herself at the goal of her manoeuvres ; and composing her head- 
 gear, with smiling face led the way from the house. They chatted merrily 
 until they had completed half the distance to the appointed place of meeting ; 
 when Madge, having described the house, where Sir Litton and Sheepshanks 
 were already waiting, left them to follow her footsteps in such a way as not 
 to excite suspicion. 
 
 Two men, enveloped in riding cloaks, joined her ; she led them through 
 narrow entries and dark lanes to the street where Mr. Solomons dwelt ; and 
 having pointed out his residence, which was a low-fronted old clothes shop, 
 she, at their desire, waited at a distance. They were no sooner admitted than 
 Dick and Fielder joined her : it was, however, indispensable that they should 
 obtain possession of the documents ; and Madge was also to get her promised 
 fifty, before anything could be done. A considerable time had elapsed, and 
 the parties were growing rather impatient, when three men passed them in 
 the direction of Solomons' dwelling. 
 
 " That's Ferret," said Madge in a whisper to Turpin ; " and the other's 
 Bill Johnson ; what can they be at?" She trembled as she thought of what 
 she had communicated to the officer ; and feared, not without cause, the 
 destruction of her hopes. " Who can the other taller man be ?" added she. 
 
 " I think I know him," answered Dick ; " but wait here an instant; I'll 
 walk before him, and get a look at his face." He hurried forward a few 
 paces, and crossing their path diagonally, entered a doorway ; the party 
 passed him, crossed the road, and, after conversing in a low tone for a minute 
 or so, the taller man rapped, left them, and entered the passage of Solomons' 
 house. Dick returned to Madge. 
 
 "It's Sir Albert Denistoun, as I live!" exclaimed Turpin ; "what can all 
 this mean?" 
 
 We will now turn to what was going on within. At a baize-covered table 
 in the first-floor room — for this affair was too important to be transacted in 
 the little back-parlour — sat Mr. Abrams, Mr. Solomons, Mr. Sheepshanks, 
 and Sir L ; .tton — the latter disguised with false whiskers and a wig. A 
 quantity of cash lay upon the table ; and Sir Litton, having obtained posses- 
 sion of the documents, was again examining their genuineness with eager 
 eyes, when a footstep was heard on the crazy staircase, and a smart rap with 
 the knuckle on the room-door followed. The whole party started ; Mr. 
 Abram's red-purple countenance changed to a livid blue, Mr. Sheepshanks' 
 
 g>. 
 
DICK TURPIN. I7i> 
 
 parchment skin to still uglier yellow, and the blood rushed from the cheeks of 
 Mr. Solomons as rapidly as it flew to the forehead of Sir Litton. Mr. 
 Abrams, however, with great presence of mind, scraped the cash, with the 
 dexterity of a gaminghouse croupier, on to a cloth hastily placed in the table- 
 drawer, and immediately closed it; while Sir Litton deposited the parch- 
 ments under his ample cloak. 
 
 " Let them in, whoever they are/' said Sir Litton ; and Solomons, turning 
 the key in the lock, a tall man of comma iding figure entered. 
 ff Let no one stir !" said the stranger authoritatively. 
 
 Sir Litton looked at him with a scowl of desperation — it was his brother- 
 in-law ! He could not know him In his present disguise — should he make a 
 dash for it ? and, without calculating consequences, the Baronet made towards 
 the door. Sir Albert placed his sword across, to bar his exit. Sir Litton 
 saw the emergency ; he dared not speak lest his voice might betray him : he 
 drew his weapon, and suddenly striking down the barrier, sprung towards the 
 landing. He was not so quick, however, but that Sir Albert, by a smart blow 
 with the flat of the sworil on his face, drove him back : the indignity maddened 
 him. At this Instant Mr. Sheepshanks, who of course knew both parties, 
 uttering a scream gif terror, and extinguishing the lamp by dashing it on the 
 ground, sought refuge beneath the table. Sir Litton profited by the dark- 
 ness : he made a desperate lunge, and Sir Albert fell, crying— 
 " Officers, below there, look out ! the villains are escaping.'' 
 The sound, however, had scarcely reached their ears, when Mr. Ferret, who 
 was ascending the stairs from the passage, where he had been keeping watch, 
 received such a tremendous blow on the mouth, from the hilt of a sword, as 
 sent his heavy carcase with dread momentum down the stairs — jamming, with 
 crushing effect, the unlucky Mr. Johnson, who was close behind, in an angle 
 of the narrow staircase. The unseen aggressor bounded past them ; a splut- 
 tering cry from Ferret, who with a mouthful of loose teeth and blood was 
 not very distinct in his delivery — and a bursting groan, which was driven out 
 of Johnson by the concussion, were all that Sir Litton heard, as he 
 bounded with abe leap into the narrow passage, and rushed forth into the 
 street. The clash of swords, the cry of Octavius, and the smash of the lamp, 
 coupled with the knowledge Dick possessed of who was within, led Fielder 
 and himself towards the door at the instant that Sir Litton, sword in hand, 
 rushed forth. 
 
 " What ho !" cried Dick ; " stop P 
 
 Sir Litton looked a moment at his audacious opponent. It was but a 
 moment: he had fleshed his sword; and, like the tiger who has tasted blood, 
 he struck at Dick with mad fury. Turpin gave way for a moment, and Sir 
 Littgn slightly galled his sword-arm ; then, despising pass or ward, rushed at 
 him. Dick gave point ; his incautious assailant Ihrew himself on the keen 
 steel, struck at him ineffectually while it was yet sheathed in his body, and 
 fell mortally wounded at his feet. 
 
 " 'Twas his own fault, whoever he is," said Dick, looking at the prostrate 
 stranger, for there was no lamp within many yards of the spot. 
 Sir Litton groaned. 
 
 " Bring me some water," said the dying man faintly ; •' do not let me die 
 here ; convey me somewhere from the street. Richard Palmer — you are 
 avenged." 
 
 Turpin started at this address. Madge had now advanced into the road- 
 
180 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 way. So silently had the rencontre come off, and so deserted and i/ri • 
 watched was the street at that hour, that the two men carried the Baronet 
 into the entry oF Solomons' house unobserved, 'save by a single passenger 
 whose curiosity was satisfied by Madge, who readily replied, to Lis enquiry of 
 " What's the matter ?" by saying that " the gentleman was drunk." 
 
 Mrs. Solomons now came down, with a face of terror and a long six, to en- 
 quire, in like manner, into the cause of the disturbance; but did not get quite 
 so commonplace an answer. She first came upon Sir Albert, who, leaning on 
 one arm, held in his hand a handkerchief, saturated with blood; vainly endeavour- 
 ing to staunch the blood flowing from a deep wound in his thigh. After a 
 feminine squeak or two, and once dropping the candlestick, Mrs. Solomons, the 
 two discomfited officers, Dick, and Fielder, formed insulting circle around Sir 
 Albert; while an outer one was made by a whole tribe of little Solomons, who in 
 yellow-white nightgowns, stared, with their la rgs b tack Hebrew eyes preterna- 
 turally dilated, on the bloody stains and fine clothe&of the prostrate gentleman 
 Meantime Mr, Abrams, who had secured the cloth containing the cash, had most 
 judiciously beat a retreat in the confusion ; and not caring to face the dangers 
 which might-beset him below stairs, he stealthily sneaked up; where, having 
 with some difficulty, squeezed his fat carcase through a trapdoor, he was now 
 enjoying a cool meditation on the adventure) in a gutter on the house-top. 
 Turpin was the first to speak. 
 
 "Let a surgeon be sent for," said he to the staring and terrified Solomons 
 At this moment Mr. Sheepshanks, recognising -Dick's voice, foolishly at- 
 tempted to sknl k by and pass down stairs. 
 
 " Halloo, my lucky little lawyer," cried Fielder; " you musn't come thi« 
 way." Sheepshanks sneaked back into the room. 
 
 Mr. Solomons* tongue clave to the roof of his mouth as he gazed on the 
 four armed men: he gave himself up for lost;. and mentally invoking 
 all the patriarchs of his religion, he repented of his sins, stedfastlv purposing 
 amendment. A lively vision of Jonathan Wild's last kick, and that ugly square 
 erection where so many of his clients had been suspended, floated before his 
 mind's eye. He eyed Turpin with a stupified stare, as the latter threw off his 
 coat, and seizing his shirt, which was of strong linen, by the shoulder, tore 
 away the left sleeve ; then kneeling beside the prostrate baronet, passed the 
 fragment tightly round his thigh— thereby preventing the effusion of blood, 
 under which he was fast sinking. Sir Albert recognised him, and thanked 
 him for his attention with a surprised look. 
 
 " Sir Litton Weston lies dead below," said Turpin, as. kneeling, he 
 pressed hi« hand on Sir Albert's wound ; « and it was he, doubtless^'who 
 has done this." 
 
 " No! no!" faintly replied Sir Albert; "'twas not he; I saw the villain 
 who stabbed me, sword in hand, the moment previous to the extinguishment 
 of the lamp ; and 'twas not my brother-in-law. Base as he is, he would not 
 strike but in fair fight." 
 
 Turpin shook his head, and Sir Albert, smarting with vexation and pride, 
 added — 
 
 " You doubt me? the blood of the Westerns with which I am allied, is not 
 so degenerate,-;— Sir Litton's fame is identified with — " 
 
 The flush of anger rose ou Tmpln's cheek ; for the high military pride of 
 the aristocratic Sir Albert was, even in his then disabled position, getting 
 the better of his judgment. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 18 
 
 " May I beg you not to irritate yourself on your present dangerous state, 
 said Dick, checking himself; " though not. of the high blood of the Westons, 
 as vou term it, I receive not the lie. George, know vou tli*> corpse that is 
 below." 
 
 " So sure as it's dead, so sure it was once Sir Litton Weston," replied 
 Fielder. 
 
 Sir Albert seemed sorely perplexed; he was silent for a few seconds, then 
 added — 
 
 " I see but one way to avoid the exposure which this unfortunate affair 
 must bring with it; and. Mr, a-a- ( Sir Albert hesitated to pronounce the 
 name of Turpin ) Mr. Palmer I mean — may I rely on your honour, and that 
 of your friend, to prevent this disgrace to the name of my wife's race— now 
 first dishonoured in the.pe-rscui of the man who has paid, the forfeit .of ..honour 
 with his life — from be coining public talk ? ( Dick assented by an inclination 
 of the head ; and the wounded man continued ) Let me be conveyed ^fo my 
 house; Ferret, go call ifty%*arriage, which waits in Bishopsgate."-'; : *. 
 
 The surgeon was consulted ; and upon discovering the rank of'lihe sufferer, 
 and being made acquainted with the unhappy circumstances of the affair, 
 he agreed with Sir Albert in the expediency of concealment; accordingly^ on 
 the arrival of the coach, the body of the luckless Sir Litton was secretly de- 
 posited therein ; and the wounded baronet having been placed on the seat, the 
 wondering coachman drove off with all practicable speed for his master's 
 mansion. 
 
 The severe wound of Sir Albeit, and the confusion consequent on such a 
 scene, had diverted the attention of the parties from the origin of all these 
 mischances. The rattle of the carriage had scarcely died on the ear, when 
 Turpin drew from his pocket the fatal parchments. 
 
 All this while Mr. Ferret and his men had kept a sharp eye on Solomons 
 and Sheepshanks. 
 
 " Here are the papers," said our hero, looking upon the packet, which was 
 saturated with the blood of its late unfortunate possessor ; " here are the papers 
 which have caused so much bloodshed. He was a desperate — " 
 
 "Sorry to hinterrupt sich a moving discourse," said old Ferret, with a 
 quiet grin of his damaged mouth, for the blow had spoiled his usual good 
 temper ; " sorry to hinterrupt — but ven you're done I'll take them ere in custody 
 along vith these two gemmen here ; as I'm thinking as I may have to produce 
 all three on 'em— I means the parcel, the lawver, and the Jew — at the sessions, 
 d'ye see V 
 
 It was in vain that Dick urged the exposure which must take place, Ferret 
 was inexorable. His mouth, too, prevented much argument, and his replies were 
 ill-tempered in proportion to their shortness. He therefore handcuffed the 
 pair, took possession of the parchments, and, having procured a 'coach, carried 
 off his prisoners. Turpin, Fielder, and Madge, took their way towards Bow in 
 silence, for the recent events were too extraordinary for street comerse • and 
 in half an hour from Sir Albert's departure, the house of Solomons was as 
 qufet as though no such scene of death, treachery, and blood, had ever fright- 
 ened it from its propriety. 
 
 As for Mr. Ferret, having once taken the pair of culprits before a magistrate, 
 where the influence of Sir Albert procured a private hearing, it became necessary 
 to follow up the affair; and the purchase of the documents by Solomons, their 
 felonious sale, wfth the subsequent transactions arising oul of it being clearly 
 
!82 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 proveable, without making public the manner of the death of the Baronet, — 
 that circumstance was carefully suppressed. Sir Litton consequently rested 
 with his ancestors, as the baronet " who was killed in a duel." The prosecution 
 and collection of evidence were left entirely to the discretion of P'erret. Mr. 
 Abrams, as might be expected, cotitrived to abscond for awhile ; but the worthy 
 and charitable Mr. Solomons, and the accessory lawyer, after being pilloried and 
 slit in the ear, were turned loose upon society, decidedly not improved, either 
 in character or respectabiUty, by the discipline of "the law." 
 
 »> *j^< 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Aurella.— I'm plagued Justly : 
 And she that makes a fool of her first love, 
 Let her ne'er look to prosper 1 — Sir 
 
 Andrugio. — O falsehood, thy .name is — woman. 
 Aur. — Have you forgiveness in you I There's more hop* of n»e 
 Than in a maid who never yet offended. 
 
 Andr. — What ! make me your property t 
 
 Aur. — I'll promise you 
 I'll never make you worse : and sir, you know 
 There are worse things for women to make men. 
 But by my hope (and sure thai hope is lawful) 
 I'll be as true for ever to thy side 
 As she in thought and deed that never erred. 
 
 Andr. — I'll once believe a woman ; be it but to strengthen 
 Weak faith in other men; I have a love 
 Doth cover all thy faults. 
 
 More Dissemblers besides Women. By Thos. Middle ton. cirea 1609. 
 
 Welcome, comrade, to our ring, 
 
 Make rhymes, we'll give thee reason ; 
 " Canary" bees thy brain shall sting, 
 
 Mull-sack did ne'er speak treason. 
 " Peter-see-me" shall wash thy nowl, 
 
 And " Malligo" glasses fox ye; 
 And if thou toss not bowl for bowl, 
 
 Thou'lt ne'er deserve a doxy. 
 
 The Spanish Gipsy. By Middleton and Rowley. Act lii. ic. 1. 
 
 The autumnal wind howled mournfully across the bleak common, and sighed 
 in the forest glades as it whirled the shrivelled and discoloured leaves in 
 rustling eddies around the stems of the forest giants, now wellnigh stipped 
 of their summer livery. The night was cold, dreary, and cheerless ; leaden- 
 coloured masses of dense clouds hung their pall before the obscured moon ; 
 and spits of intermittent rain added a dullness to the moisture-laden air, more 
 searching and depressing than the colder temperature of actual winter. But 
 though such was the night without, the snug party to whom we will now 
 introduce the reader, felt none of its discomfort. 
 
 In a small arched cavern sat three men ; the apartment was low, and in its 
 shape resembled the cellars of the innumerable modern streets, which within 
 these few years have stretched their ramifications, like the arms of some giant 
 tree, in every direction around our great metropolis. Yet though small, and 
 certainly not boasting any architectural attractions, it was not without its 
 creature comforts — and something more. The sides and roof, for it would 
 have been difficult to define the line of distinction between them, were curi- 
 ously decorated. Here hung a horseman's coat, and there a "dreadnought" 
 
DICK TURPIN. I S3 
 
 cap, or south- wester ; beside a pair of jockey-boots and bright spurs dangler! 
 a prime small ham of the true Westmoreland shape and complexion ; while 
 bridles, dried tongues and Bolognas, a carbine resting on two hooks, whips, 
 some kipper salmon, and a German pipe, completed the medley ornaments, or 
 utilities, on the walls. In one corner stood a huge demi-john in its basket 
 corering; and this larger receptacle was flanked and surrounded by several 
 minor bottles, pitchers, and flasks, which spoke mutelv eloquent of the care 
 that had been used for the liquid as well as solid comforts of the occupants of 
 the retreat. 
 
 In a recess, hollowed out at the upper end of the chamber, glowed an 
 iron grating, whereon blazed merrily a bright wood fire. Before it stood a 
 woman, who was busily engaged in superintending the culinary operations, 
 while a savoury steam rose from a kettle, suspended in the stream of flame ; 
 before the grate, amid the wood ashes raked upon the stone slab, lay roasting a 
 goodly company of the tubers which old Cobbett anathematized as the 
 " accursed root." The female turned, with glowing face and a pleasant 
 smile, to the three men seated at the rudely formed table ; and disclosed — the 
 features of Madge Dutton ! Crime, (which is misery,) " acquaints us with 
 strange bedfellows ;'' Madge was now directress of the bed and board 
 arrangements of our hero. In a word, circumstances had installed 
 her in all the privileges of Mrs. T., though without the rite ecclesiastical. 
 And here we will pause to reflect on "world thy slippery turns." So little 
 yet is'man advanced in that knowledge, which the old Greek told him some 
 two thousand years ago was the summit of wisdom, — the " knowledge of 
 himself," — that we are justified in doubting whether the pratings of sciolists 
 and the cobweb-weaving of metaphysicians, be anything more than a game of 
 intellectual pushpin; the fancy toys of children of "larger growth/' "The 
 child is father to the man," says Wordsworth, and upon this Irish principle it is . 
 possible for a man to be his own grandfather, and none the wiser for it. But. 
 jesting apart, there is something inconceivably absurd in the way in which thou- 
 sands of writers of works of fiction go on systematizing ; dividing personages of 
 history or of romance into (positively not relatively) good and bad. Nor 
 is this violation of truth and nature confined to authors ; reviewers, too, 
 under pain of their critical condemnation, will admit no action into the 
 bfe of any character, but such as comports with this imaginary consistency. 
 The result has been a deplorable and pervading misconception, not only of 
 ourselves, as painted in fiction or the drama, but of others. Mixed beings act 
 mixedly, from mixed motives ; and the microcosm is no more constant in its 
 sunshine or cloud — no more ever smooth, or ever ruffled — no more uniform in 
 construction or persistent in destruction— than the great world around us. Our 
 limited comprehensions forbid us from appreciating the good of evil. Yet that 
 that exists, and must have had an origin, we all see ; and the same being whose 
 inscrutable wisdom has formed antagonist elements in the material world, has 
 shown his power, and, doubtless, his wisdom, in the world of mind. Yet to 
 his omniscience and perfect judgment — which has formed us mixed creatures, in 
 whom now passion now reason holds alternate sway — bat-eyed man would pre- 
 scribe laws to suit his own purblind views of right and wrong ; would carve mon- 
 sters of consistency from a mass of contradictions. But we must quit this theme ; 
 and, having given the hint, leave the reader to follow out the argument here 
 faintly and incidentally advanced. 
 
 Tlie very w< man of whose treacheries we have been the chronicler* J 
 
184 DICK T UK PIN. 
 
 was, it would seem, under such circumstances as should call forth its exer 
 cise, capable of devoted attachment; and now, though linked with a 
 highwayman, and surrounded by men who owned no moral restraint, was 
 faithful, uncorruptible, and constant in the performance of that part for which 
 woman was formed — the comforter and the companion of man. In fact — 
 alas for consistency, and constancy ! — in the few wreks succeeding the 
 occurrences related in our last chapter, the indifference of our hero had 
 warmed into respect ; respect into esteem; and esteem had given place, — 
 
 " Even as one Are doth drive out another—" 
 
 to warm affection. 
 
 " Now,*' cried Madge, in a cheerful tone — while her flushed cheek, glisten- 
 ing eye, and bright smile might have re ailed, (though robbed of the freshness 
 of youth and purity,) a remembrance of the Margaret Dutton who had once 
 been the pride 
 
 " Of all the gay lasses that danced on the green—" 
 
 " now, Riclurd, all's ready : come, bustle, Georgy, you're in the way i 
 There, that'll do.'' Thus saying, she hastily cleared the board of its bot- 
 tles and horns, replacing them by a coarse but white cloth; bread, smoking 
 meat, and well roasted potatoes followed, flanked by several savoury grills, 
 on turned trenchejs or bright pewter. Beer of the best, in brown stone 
 jugs; for as yet Wedgwood had not framed the convenient and cleanly 
 queen's ware, which adds elegance and comfort to the modern table; com- 
 pleted the substantial fare. 
 
 Madge seated herself, and for the next ten minutes little was heard, save 
 the rattle of knives and forks, or an occasional word, as one pledged 
 another of the party in " brown October.'' Supper dispatched, the kettle 
 was placed on the fire ; rummers took place of the drinking horns ; pipes 
 were filled ; and a new disposition of the company took place. Placed in a 
 semicircle around the hearth, of which the upper centre was occupied _by 
 the end of the table before mentioned, the company set themselves in for 
 an evening's enjoyment. 
 
 " What say you to a song, Dick ?" asked King; "you ought to be inspired 
 by the bright eyes I just now see turned so affectionately on you. I can't 
 unriddle it for the life o' me; but you're deuced lucky with ihe 
 women. — I love 'em all alike, it's true, but that's in self defence, for 
 they're such a fickle lot, that they now and then return the compliment, and 
 like all others as well as me, when I'm out of sight. But it won't, do to 
 philosophize about the ladies ; they're not fit subjects for anything, but 
 unfortunate victimized men to adore, and not question — eh ! Wh;it think 
 you, Mrs. Margaret ?" 
 
 The flight of Tom was somewhat too high for Madge ; she had, however, 
 been so long in the practice of answering speeches without understanding 
 them, that she replied at hazard by assenting to his remark ; then added — 
 " I should like, of all things, Tom, to hear your song, I've been told that 
 you sing delightfully all ' Polly's '* new songs ; do favour us !'' 
 
 Tom laughed, raised the glass to his lips, put it down, and sung the 
 following, to a then fashionable nir; — 
 
 * Miss Fenton, before mentioned. 
 
PICK TURPIN. 
 
 ISj 
 
 h' ntli of Sir UUmi Weston. 
 
 1W1I! IHIS 1 I.UVK 
 
 z£z|z=jzizzz zjz. tq^FE 
 
 5 =^El5t?^35£5:= 
 
 :e=*-r=r-PE^= 
 
 -I — 
 
 ±~ 
 
 m 
 
 : -H — ^1-l-i 
 
 ztc 
 
 Fair 1 - ris I love and hour - ly I 
 
 §lz^£p£* 
 
 die, But not for a 
 
 TiTiBE 
 
 ZziZiz^zizzj 
 
 ?P-- 
 
 ^= 
 
 
 |zzzr>ztp^|z*zzbz*z 
 
 zSEIz^S 
 
 zz^:riz=iz 
 
 lip 
 
 nor a 
 
 lan-guish-ing eye; She's fic-kle and false, and 
 
 * The author does not think any apology necessary for presenting these specimens 
 of the song-writing of our Ancestors : they are all antecedent to the time of Turpin, 
 'J'he writer of this first, which was long popular, was the great Dryden, of whom it is 
 8uporlluous to say more than the name ; the music is from his masque of Alexander 
 and Amphytrion. The others are respectively limn the pens of Matthew OoUcanen, 
 of the time of Queen Anne, and .lames Bulteel, who published a poetical miscellany, 
 in the reign of Charles II ; for the airs to which they were sung, the author is in- 
 debted to the rare and curious supplementary volume to Ritsjii's Ulu English Songs. 
 Loudon, Bvo. 1783. 
 No. 24 
 
ISC 
 
 HICK TURPIN. 
 
 - ft — » ' « ■ » a -r-r — P~r-«~ 
 
 ff M- 5 -r xrfTT-r M.* g 
 
 "*.-- 
 
 there we a - gree, For 
 
 
 I am as false and 
 
 as 
 
 =*z£riz 
 
 F 
 
 33- 
 
 £=?=* 
 
 m 
 
 3 
 
 _, — )— =v 1— 
 
 :33^£!EBE£E2 
 
 » 4-T-- 
 
 4 
 
 s 
 
 fic-kle as she ; We nei - ther be-lieve what ei - ther can say, and 
 
 ijcz: 
 
 fz^: 
 
 s 
 
 nei - ther be - liev - ing we nei-ther be - tray. 
 
 H 
 
 'Tis civil to swear, and say things of course ; 
 We mean not the taking for better for worse ; 
 When present we love — when absent agree — 
 I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me : 
 The legend of love no couple can find, 
 So easy to part or so equally join'd. 
 
 "Bravo! bravo !" exclaimed Fielder; "but we must hear mistress Mar 
 garet : it's cursedly out of order this, to leave the ladies behind." 
 
 Madge declined with an affected simper, and King interposed. 
 
 " I believe it's my call," said he; " and if the lady (and he gallantly bowed, 
 will condescend so far as to favour the com — " 
 
 Madge's politeness was of a very questionable colour, for she interrupted him 
 with — 
 
 " Oh, la! Mr. Tom, you flatter me, I'm sure ; I never, in my whole life," 
 &c. &c, though we may observe, par parenthese, that she was not a little 
 proud of her vocal abilities. Her inward mortification was therefore great, 
 when the blunt George Fielder thus broke in : — 
 
 " Well, when I'm called on, nobody can say I keep the company waiting ; 
 it's all very natural though, for females ; they think you don't want them 
 unless you press them. I'll volunteer — so here goes:" and off he did go, in 
 an old rambling ballad, making up for some defects in time by a clear and 
 powerful voice. 
 
 THE GOSSIPS.* 
 
 fi-E- fc 
 
 3-=*: 
 
 t=£ 
 
 cEr.' 
 
 # 
 
 £ 
 
 Two gos-sips they mer-ri - ly met, at nine in the morning full 
 
 • This ballad may be taken as a primafacie contradiction of those who attribute a 
 (winbirth to tea and scandal ; our grandams could destroy reputations over canary, l& 
 Jlie full as goodn.turedly ss their descendants. 
 
 
DICK TURPI N. 
 
 187 
 
 =*=fc 
 
 H=£ 
 
 *m 
 
 ^_ ^ j -~ jp==3t=j=^ f=A 
 
 —¥■ 
 
 soon ; And they were re-solv'd for a whet, To keep their sweet 
 
 fr 
 
 tr 
 
 f? 
 
 «==£ 
 
 £ 
 
 *: 
 
 s — /- 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 k k 
 
 voi-ces in tune ; a - way to the ta-vern they went ; Here, 
 % fr — fi — |> |S |S |V- r— : — : : 1 — £— 1^ 
 
 i 
 
 @i^i? 
 
 £30: 
 
 1 
 
 J * J 
 
 t£3fcZ3fc 
 
 £=£=£ 
 
 i 
 
 Joan, I do vow and pro 
 -. /r jv 
 
 Fair -«l 
 
 =£ 
 
 e£ 
 
 test, That I have a crown yet un- 
 
 3= 
 
 ^& 
 
 spent ; Come, let's have a cup of the best. 
 
 " And I have another, perhaps, 
 A piece of the very same sort ; 
 
 Why should we sit thrumming of caps — 
 Come, drawer, and fill us a quart ! 
 
 And let it be liquor of life- 
 Canary, right sparkling wine ! 
 
 For I am a buxom young wife, 
 And I love to go gallant and fine." 
 
 The drawer, as blithe as a bird, 
 
 Came skipping, with cap in his hand — 
 " Dear ladies I give you my word, 
 
 The best shall be at your command." 
 A quart of canary he drew, 
 
 Joan filled up a glass and begun — 
 " Here, gossip's a bumper to you ;" 
 
 " I'll pledge you, girl, was it a tun." 
 
 " Ami prav, gossip, didn't you hear, 
 
 The common report of the town "i 
 A squire o' five hundred a-year 
 
 Is married to Doll of the Crown." 
 " That draggle-tailed slut ! on my word, 
 
 With her clothes hanging ragged and 
 foul ; 
 In troth he would fain have a bird, 
 
 That would give a good groat for an owl." 
 
 " Well, she had a sister last year, 
 Whose name they called Gallopping Peg, 
 
 She'll take up a straw with her ear — " 
 " I'll warrant her, right as my leg !" 
 
 "A brewer he's got her with child — 
 But e'en let them brew as they bake , 
 
 She always was wanton and wild — 
 But 1 never meddle nor make." 
 
 " Nor I, gossip Joan, by my troth ; 
 
 Though, nevertheless, I've been told, 
 She stole seven yards of broadcloth, 
 
 A ring, and a locket of gold ; 
 A smock, and a new pair of shoes 
 
 A flourishing madam was she : — 
 'Twas Margery told me the news, 
 
 But it ne'er shall go further from me." 
 
 "We were at a gossipping club, 
 
 Where we had a chirrupping cup 
 Of good humming liquor, strong bub — 
 
 And your husband's name there it was 
 up, 
 For bearing a powerful sway — 
 
 All the neighbours his valour have seen, 
 For he is a cuckold they say — 
 
 A constable — gossip, I mean. 
 
 " Dear dame, 'twas a slip of the tongue, 
 
 No harm was intended in mind ; 
 Chance words they will mingle among 
 
 Our others, we commonly find : — 
 I hope you won't take it amiss." 
 
 " Sure no, that were folly in us; 
 lui 1 1 we sometimes get a kiss, 
 
 Pray what are our husbands tfif worse ?" 
 
1&8 
 
 DICK TUB PIN. 
 
 "* And now, my Madge," said Dick with a .smile, as the jingling of (he gla$«i€g 
 following Fielder's merriment subsided ; "I often hear you humming snatches 
 of songs ; von can sing I'm sure.'' 
 
 Madge hesitated, cleared her throat, requested them to excuse her if she 
 should fail, and then, in a rustic style, sang the following: 
 
 THE COUNTRY WEDDING. 
 
 ■ „ztzzjz~ 
 
 — & 
 
 1 |V — I — ,- 
 
 =£=£= 
 
 l , r -iv 
 
 — i — -i — i — i — — — i— — i — i — 
 
 z-g==^z=Jz=|zfcz:p j=i!z qj- 
 
 Well met, pret - ty nymph, Bays a jol - ly young swain. To a 
 
 ===zz==q=3z====p 
 
 £: 
 
 i — M — I — I — -4— 
 
 -4/- 1 & \-A — B — !— — I — l— i — l !*• 1 1 — H — I — I 
 
 I 7 
 
 ^ 
 
 beau- ti-ful shep-herd-e&s cross - ing the plain ; Why so much 
 
 ^li=^Ez^Ez^= 
 
 -\- 
 
 zqzz 
 
 ZZ|ZZZiZZpEZZ£Z 
 
 ZltZiZZ^ZZiZZ 
 
 V — I — h- 
 
 in haste, (now the month it was May,) Shall I ven-ture to ask 
 
 f + z=z— ^Z|j;±p:=e=P=t^- 
 ^pzznzt — i— u— (- 
 
 --:^Ei:EzzEz=zzzzE£: 
 
 szzrigzsz— 4zzi 
 Sz^zzf: 
 
 
 you, fair raai-den, which way ? shall I ven-ture to ask you, fair 
 
 s±£z^zEgEf? 
 
 zzr^z:BzpE=p=|=E=ip:=ic:zE 
 
 IN-t— I— 
 
 •IS! Z_ 
 
 izfzzBzz^ziEEzzz^ztE: 
 
 ±3 
 
 3t 
 
 mai - den, which way ? Then straight to this question the nymph did 
 
 
 -* = ^= 
 
 re-ply, With a smile in her look and a leer in her eye, I am 
 
 — f*— 
 
 :=£: 
 
 -4 s — 
 
 ^=£==7£=£=3~=!-:: 
 
 ^zzzzzztzzzzz^zzlztzzzzizz 
 
 -^ Zizz3zzzizz3z3t|zf z: zzzpz^z 
 
 come from the village, and homeward I go ; And now, gentle shep- 
 
 x iv-, — i***C 
 
 :^zzzzzJz*zJzzzzzzzizz^. 
 
 herd, pray why would you know ? 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 183 
 
 11 
 
 I hope, pretty maid, you won't take it amiss 
 
 If I tell you the reason of asking you this ; 
 
 I would see you safe home, (the swain was 
 in love,) 
 
 Of such a companion, if you will approve. 
 
 "Your offer, kind shepherd, is civil, I own, 
 
 But I see no great danger in going alone ; 
 
 Nor yet can 1 hinder, the road being free 
 
 For you as another, for you as for me." 
 in 
 
 " No danger in going alone, it is true, 
 
 But yet a companion is pleasanter, too ; 
 
 And" if you could like (now the swain he 
 took heart) 
 
 Such a sweetheart as me, we never should 
 part." 
 
 " O ! that's a long word," said the shep- 
 herdess, then — 
 
 " I've often heard say there's no minding 
 you men : 
 
 You'll say and unsay, and you'll flatter, 'tis 
 
 true, 
 Then leave a young maiden the first thing 
 
 you do." 
 
 IV 
 
 " O judge not so harshly," the shepherd 
 
 replied ; 
 To prove what I say, I will make you my 
 
 bride; 
 To morrow the parson — (well said, little 
 
 swain) — 
 Shall join both our hands, end make one 
 
 of us twain.'' 
 Then what the nymph answered to this, 
 
 is not said, 
 But the very next morn be sure they were 
 
 wed. 
 Sing hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle 
 
 down, 
 We ne'er see such courtship and wedding 
 
 in town. 
 
 " That's all/' exclaimed Madge, laughing, as she finished her ditty ; u and 
 now Dick, dear, we're all attention:" and she playfully pulled him by the 
 sleeve. 
 
 Dick's manner, however, had of late much changed ; he was occasionally 
 absent, and during the singing of the last song, puerile though he considered 
 it, a melancholy stole over his face, and a sternness, that was almost morose, 
 settled upon his features. He shook it off, and forced a smile, as if 
 ashamed of his absence of mind — then seizing the goblet, drank deeply and 
 eagerly ; a custom to which he had only lately addicted himself, for hitherto 
 he had been remarkable among his companions for abstemiousness. 
 
 " Why, friend Dick/' exclaimed King, " your thoughts seemed gone on a 
 voyage of discovery, just now ; perhaps you'll be so kind as to send for them 
 home, as the play bills have it, ' f jr this night only.'" 
 
 Turpin smiled again, drank again, and said — 
 
 "Well, don't say I spoil harmony. I suppose it's my turn for a song — eh, 
 Madge?" and he pinched her cheek sportively; "though I'm not exactly 
 in cue for singing, you shan't say that I keep you waiting ;" and in a fine 
 bass he began : — 
 
 HAD NEPTUNE WHEN FIRST. 
 
 Had Nep-tune when first he took charge of the sea, Been as 
 
 3ib 
 
 — ijj-t^ 
 
 £ 
 
 g^^i^s j- 1 C j rv f fei^ 
 
 wise, or at least been as mer - ry as we, He'd ha' 
 
IU9 
 
 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 ^^^j^^j^^ 
 
 thought bet-ter on't, and in - stead of his brine, would have 
 
 U 
 
 ,f ^r r;1^iT^TI lJ 3%rrirf 
 
 filled the vast o-cean with gen-e- rous wi . 
 
 • • • 
 
 SaaHafiBE^aii^a 
 
 S£ffi 
 
 m 
 
 £=£ 
 
 ±= 
 
 * 
 
 ttt 
 
 ne, Have fill'd the vast o 
 
 cean with 
 
 , — i- 
 
 ~!5=£^E< 
 
 -©- 
 
 gen 
 
 er - oua 
 
 wine. 
 
 What trafficking then would have been on 
 
 the main, 
 For the sake of good liquor as well as for 
 
 gain ! 
 No fear then of tempests, nor dread e'en 
 
 of sinking — 
 The fishes ne'er drown that are always a 
 
 drinking. 
 
 The hot thirsty sun then would drive with 
 
 more haste, 
 Secure in the evening of such a repast ; 
 And when he'd got tipsy would have taken 
 
 his nap, 
 With double the pleasure, in Thetis's lap. 
 
 By the force of his rays, thus heated with 
 
 wine, 
 Consider how gloriously Phosbus would 
 
 shine ; 
 What vast exhalations he'd draw upou 
 
 high, 
 To relieve the poor earth, as it wanted 
 
 supply. 
 
 How happy us mortals when bless'd with 
 
 such rain, 
 To fill all our vessels, and fill them again ! 
 Nay, even th e beggar, who has ne'er a dish, 
 Might jump in the river and drink like a 
 
 fish. 
 
 The stars, which I think don't to drinking 
 
 incline, 
 Woald frisk and rejoice at the fumes of 
 
 the wine ; 
 And, merrily twinkling, would soon let us 
 
 know, 
 That they were as happy as mortals below. 
 
 Had this been the case, what had we then 
 
 enjoyed ! 
 Our spirits still rising, our fancy ne'er 
 
 cloy'd ! 
 A plague then, on Neptune, when 'twas 
 
 in his power, 
 To slip, like a fool, such a fortunate hour. 
 
 " Foregad !" exclaimed King ; u I didn't suspect you'd such a voice for a 
 Bacchanalian, Dick. Here's to you — a toast ! a toast !" 
 
 " I've finished the round of songs, I believe," said Turpin ; " yet I'd begin 
 it again with you, but I have just thought of a neglected piece of business. 
 I will ride this morning, before the people are stirring, into London, and leave 
 some documents, I still possess, in the hands of Sir Albert. Though their value 
 has become nothing, as Lady Denistoun is now the heiress of Weston in her 
 
DICK TURPIN. KM 
 
 own right, yet as business is best done whilst thought on, I'll e'en at once 
 to saddle.'' 
 
 " Then take my bay, Dickon," said King ; " Bess is a remarkable animal, 
 and mav be observed, for it will be day before you return — be advised." 
 
 Dick assented: the bay was soon saddled ; and taking the parchments from 
 a small portmanteau, he mounted and rode forth. 
 
 The first grey gleam of dawn streaked the east, and the face of nature shewed 
 tokens of the fury of overnight's storm, in the bright patches on the dark 
 bark of some of the largest trees, which marked places where mighty limbs 
 had been tore from them by the wrathful blast. The boughs were laden with 
 moisture, and the superfluous water which hung in gem like drops on every 
 blade of grass, soaked through the traveller who attempted to make his 
 way through field or copse, with a searching celerity exceeding the heaviest 
 rain. Dick looked at the quarter where the sun gave promise of soon ap- 
 pearing. The twinkling stars still shimmered in the wide and clear expanse 
 of sky — there was a mild freshness in the air, and the rosy east grew minute 
 by minute more warm and cheering in its colcurs — every omen spoke to the 
 weatherwise in promise of a fine day. Our hero mounted and was soon on his 
 road from King's Oak. 
 
 But if merriment was the order of the night, at the highwayman's retreat, 
 theirs was not the only party which kept it up, 
 
 " Till imorn In russet mantle clad, 
 
 Walk'd o'er the dew of the high eastern hills." 
 
 The dining parlour at Squire, or as he was more generally termed, Justice 
 Asher's, was the scene of revelry not less hearty, and to the full as coarse, as 
 that of our outlawed hero and his associates. The guests consisted chiefly of 
 "sporting" characters. There was the wealthy landholder, the red-nosed, 
 three-bottle descendant of a long line of Shallows who, like Shakspeare's 
 deathless justice, had written "armigero" to their name any time these hun- 
 dred years ; there too were the owner of the neighbouring pack of hounds 
 and the rosy incumbent of Boozle, who was also the vicar of Soakingham, of 
 which his worship held the presentation. As the younger son of an influential 
 family, Mr. Tithe 'em had been bred to the clerical profession ; he was a 
 staunch member of the "state church," an excellent fourth at "a rubber of 
 long whist," a very Ajax at backgammon, "old dog at theology," and 
 
 " As thirsty a soul, 
 
 Aa e'er tossed off tankard, or fathom'd a howl ; " 
 
 yet his punctuality in the execution of his pastoral functions halted lamely 
 if compared with the exactness and promptitude of his attendance and delivery 
 of grace at a patron's dinner, from which he was of course never absent. With 
 such qualifications for the ministry can his success be wondered at? The 
 party — at least such of them as gout, hard drinking, or the infirmities of a^e 
 had not prevented from joining the sport — had had a 'glorious" run that 
 day ; and it had taken I don't know how many dozen of port to do justice to 
 the exploits of some forty men, who had, with horses, horns, and dogs, run down 
 a single, unresisting animal; nay, each of them felt how incumbent it was on 
 the achievers of such heroic deeds to drink hard, that each might be able to speak 
 in terms sufficiently glowing of his own bravery ; conscious that without suck 
 
192 DICK TURP1N1 
 
 maddening stimulants as should shake reason on her throne, iio sane man 
 could listen to, nor rational being narrate, such unblushing exaggeration and 
 distortion of mere acts of folly as feats of superhuman gallantry and hen-ic 
 daring. 
 
 The hours rolled on, and the company rolled off— their chairs we mean. 
 The parson had fallen into a prosy disputation with a plethoric powdered old 
 gentleman with a purple face, who sat next him, sleeping with his dull goose- 
 berry eyes wide open, staring directly in the face of the divine; the obfuscation 
 of that reverend personage's faculties leading him to interpret an occasional 
 snort of the uneasy apoplectic slumbererasa grunt of assent to some major or 
 minor of his learned and logical propositions. Other groups surrounded the 
 board. Mighty men, the terror of poachers, ale-bibbers, and itinerant scrapers 
 of catgut — men intolerant of wakes, fairs, foot-races, and fiddlings ; and 
 all of whom could assume the severity of a Cato the censor, and turn up 
 their eyes in abomination at the enormities of Hodge or Roger, when Sir 
 John Barleycorn led these vulgar offenders into some temporary indiscretion. 
 Some of these " custolorums " were sleeping, others prosing, some boasting, 
 while here and there an overturned chair told of the departed, who slept the 
 sleep of drunkenness beneath the mahogany, the face of which, covered wiih 
 apple-parings, walnut-shells, broken glass, knives, dessert plates, decanters, upset 
 olives, and filthy slops, told the good deeds of those who reposed beneath " in 
 mere obliviousness." These prostrate drunkards lay nowhere so thick as in 
 the neighbourhood of the reverend priest, whose cloth had procured him the 
 honour of the right hand of the now vacated chair. Among these somnolent 
 wine-bibbers was one who yet retained his perpendicular ; he was a military man, 
 and hadevidently followed Bacchus to the last charge, for " strong wine had slain 
 him," and now — with the last glass of claretspilt before him, and the fragments 
 of its broken receptacle scattered in the ruby stream, his head reclined on his 
 breast, and a helmet of paper stuck on his head by some freakish companion 
 — the " gallant officer" lay, 
 
 Like some warrior taking a snooze, 
 With the foes he had slain around him. 
 
 But we will turn from the upper end of the "justice's" table to the lower ; 
 near this end sat a group of talkers ; the one, a middle aged man, was Mr. Ma - 
 jor, well known on the turf as the owner of Whitestockings, and several other 
 celebrated racers ; he was evidently much more sober than either of his com- 
 panions, who were young men, attired in bright scarlet coats, with broad 
 skirts, buckskins, and short riding boots, the very pink of hunting costume of 
 the period : — 
 
 " I'll tell'ee what, Major, old boy," said one, a thick, podgy, homebred 
 spec men of two-fisted squirearchy ; an unlicked cub, who might have sat 
 for Goldsmith's Tony Lumpkin, in every point but dress : — "I'll tell'ee what, 
 if Grey Grizzel carn't clear double dyke and rail wi' onything in your stable, 
 I'll eat her — done for fifty as I'll jump her 'cross Dainsbury's dyke, and that's a 
 good thirty foot i' the clear, now, if ye like — I've done it back again a;ul over 
 to-day — say the word and it's done for fifty ! '' 
 
 The elder man smiled ; he knew that Grey Grizzel was at that time unable 
 to wag a foot from the day's hard riding ; he Was, however, abou! to reply 
 when the third took up the argument 
 
DICK Tl'RHN. 
 
 1<J3 
 
 Turpi. i shoots Whitedtocking> aul robs Mr. ilajor. 
 
 "You're thundering nutty/' exclaimed the legislator in posse, "on that 
 Grizzel o' your's, master Bobby, but you should ha' seen my Rusty take the 
 ditch and quickset nt Westerham ; last Wensday three weeks that was. — he's a 
 horse if you like." 
 
 "Your Rusty ! ha ! ha !" ejaculated the individual addressed as Bobby, with 
 a laugh of derision, " your Rusty leap — I like that — ha ! ha ! — h — " The, 
 laugh was suddenly checked, for the owner of Rusty, to use a vulgar phrase, 
 suddenly " rode rusty," and dealing the disparager a blow on the face, over he 
 went, chair and all. His blood was up, however, though his body was down, yet 
 such was his state of intoxication, that he was only able to bring himself to 
 his knees, the lower part of his understanding, like his tipper one, having lost 
 its functions. In this pious posture he placed his fists in a boxing attitude, and 
 spluttered a defiance at his aggressor, who, equally drunk, reeled towards him 
 with half clenched fists, and both the " scions of a noble race" rolled on 
 the floor together Mr. Major rose from his seat, and separated them, as they 
 lay swearing, scrambling and tearing each others clothes : and having succeeded 
 in his friendly interposition, he left the two helpless champions of their nobler 
 brutes, and walked to the upper end of the apartment. The chair, as we have 
 before said, was empty, for Squire Asher had retired some two hours since to 
 his chamber ; but had left his guests, as was the mode, to enjoy, i. e. brutalize, 
 themselves unrestrainedly. 
 
 " Dr. Tithe'em," said Major, to the parson, who still sat mumbling some unin- 
 telligible gibberish, and sipping his port. Dr. Tithe'em however, was too muck 
 No. 25. 
 
194 DICK TURPI N. 
 
 absorbed in his theological mystification with the snoring Oxonian (for the 
 sleepy little gentleman in the cauliflower wig, had been his fellow-commoner at 
 the University,) to hear the address. The speaker opened the shutters and ad- 
 mitted a flood of light on the edifying scene : this seemed to startle his reve- 
 rence ; and Major continued: — 
 
 " Dr. Tithe'em, I shall not stay here to-night — so, if you wish for company 
 on your ride, as I see the morning is clear and fine, I'm the man to see you 
 to the rectory." This proposition, however, by no means squared with the 
 worthy doctor's notions of decorum — for Dr. Tithe'em never forgot what was due 
 to public appearances ; he thought, though he did not say so, that it would 
 be rather undignified and unclerical for the rector of Fleece'em, who was " a 
 D.D., and, moreover, an A.S.S.," to be seen, at such an unseasonable hour, 
 jogging home, cheek by jowl, with a notorious turfite and fox-hunter — no, no, 
 the doctor knew too well what was due to his cloth thus to scandalise it. 
 He, therefore, evasively declined the friendly offer, pleading that he feared 
 taking cold ; then, drawing a huge, old, chased " Tompion" watch from his 
 poke, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Bless me, Mr. Major, is that day-break I see yonder? Five o'clock ! — 
 dear me! How can the time have flown — really I and Dr. Syllabus, here, 
 have been involved in such an animated and interesting controversy — you 
 know my dear Mr. Major, that Syllabus and I were contems at Brazennose — 
 bless me ! why Syllabus is asleep — well, well — I'm quite ashamed of the hour 
 —but when congenial spirits meet to enjoy 
 
 ' The feast of reason, and the flow of soul,' 
 
 Mr. Major, eh ? — " 
 
 And thus twaddling on, the reverend divine staggered from the table, bear- 
 ing a candlestick ; and calling, with a guttural grunt, for his servant, who was 
 enjoying a snooze in the ante-chamber, he placed his hand upon his shoulder ; 
 no doubt rather as a mark of confidence, than with any design of steadying 
 his steps, and thus conducted, toddled off" to the bed-room appointed for his 
 use. 
 
 The guest looked round the now silent chamber. The snuffs of the 
 expiring candles flickered, flared, or smoked offensively in the sockets of the 
 chandelier, which hung over the centre of the table. He looked around — 
 of the noisy gathering of a few hours since, none remained but the dead drunk 
 or the sleeping; and the whole scene bore striking testimony to the glories of 
 what people who ought to know better, sing and celebrate as " old English 
 hospitality." This was " worshipful company ;" these were the legislators, 
 the teachers, the exemplars of society — the class who were scandalised at the 
 idea of education — who feared the light, as well they might, which an advance 
 in the social and moral condition of the masses must bring with it; in short, 
 these were the " fine old English gentlemen" — the " venerable Tories" — whom 
 designing men would hold up to challenge respect and veneration for their 
 posterity, as the descendants of the " old families." 
 
 " I'll start off," said the guest musingly ; " faugh ! the room smells fil- 
 thily ; I think a ride would do me good this morning " 
 
 He walked out, called his servant, and communicated his intention of riding 
 home. 
 i^_ " However," said he, " as the horse I rode to-day is in the stable here, 
 
DICK Tl'RPIN. 195 
 
 and no doubt very stiff, you must see to him, Robert, and stay here till to 
 night. Let Whitestockings be saddled — make haste.'* 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir/' replied the man. 
 
 Whitestockings was saddled, and Mr. Major took his way along the avenue 
 leading from the justice's mansion. 
 
 The "balmy breath of incense-breathing morn" commended Itself wooingly 
 to the fevered blood of the horseman ; he slackened the pace of his steed as 
 he reached the high road, and with open mouth inhaled the moist air, to 
 cool his palate, dry and parched from even his moderate share in the 
 night's debauch. The morn was lovely ; it was one of those fine day-breaks 
 which late Autumn shews, as if Summer, cooled in its fervour, still mildly 
 disputed its cheering sway against the rigours of the approaching tyrant- 
 Winter. The bright clear sun rose cheeringly, and blandly smiled on' the 
 fresh-smelling earth, and the stirring air rustled with breezy freshness amid 
 the partially-stripped boughs of those trees which earliest yield their leafy 
 vesture to the winter's blast. Mr. Major rode leisurely on, with loosened 
 rein. His steed was one which from its training and pursuits might be said 
 to have but two paces — a walk and a gallop. We need not tell the sporting 
 reader that the race horse of a century since, though not equal in speed to the 
 " finer" bred animals of the modern turf, was an animal of far more bone, 
 and lasting strength, than the present racer; hence, he was more readily 
 convertible to the purposes of a hunter, and master of greater weight. In short, 
 the old " King's plate " horse of the days of which we are writing, though unfit 
 to compete for short distances with the higher bred nag of the present time, 
 made up in bone and endurance what he lacked in blood and swiftness. The 
 current of the rider's thoughts, which had rambled desultorily over the events 
 of the preceding day and the talk of the night, suddenly, he hardly knew why, 
 became fixed on arriving at a topic which had been agitated at the board he 
 had just quitted. It was, the increasing danger of the roads, in the county 
 of which many of the company were magistrates ; the daring with which 
 several recent robberies, particularly those of Mr. Bradele and his wife, near 
 Loughton ; that of Mr. Thomas Ashton, within sight of his own house, at Wood- 
 ford ; and several others, had been accomplished. The advisableness of a com- 
 munication to the Secretary of State had been mooted, and a suggestion made 
 of the expediency of an application for the aid of a troop of dragoons; then 
 a not uncommon mode of patrolling the roads in the neighbourhood of 
 London.* 
 
 Whilst thus musing, the regular sound of a horse at full speed rose on his 
 ear ; the rider was evidently going the same road ; namely, that towards 
 London. 
 
 "Here's company, at any rate," said he, "and pretty well mounted, if I 
 may guess from the pace." 
 
 The horseman came up, and courteous salutations were exchanged. 
 
 " Fine morning, sir," observed Dick ; for it was our hero. " Going far on 
 this road ? " 
 
 • From this employment of the army, the state of the highway and police may be 
 imagined. Several instances of their being engaged to patrol the roads may be lound 
 incidentally in the Sketch of Turpin in the " Malefactor's Register," in the lite of 
 " Gentleman Harrv," who was executed at Tyburn; 17M, London, 8vo., 1754 j iu 
 the Loudon Magazine, and in numerous contemporaneous tructa. 
 
196 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Some four miles ; nearly to Plaistow," replied Mr. Major. " Early out 
 this morning ; that's a pretty beast of yours." 
 
 Turpin replied merely by patting his horse's neck, and the conversation 
 turned on indifferent topics. Nothing was further from Dick's mind than 
 doing what he termed " business " with the gentleman whom he thus met 
 at the very entrance of the clump of houses at Trap's Hill. They' rode on 
 a nicahly, and in reply to an enquiry on the part of Mr. Major, Dick informed 
 him that his name was Cutler ; that he resided at Hodde^don, in Hertfordshire, 
 but. having occasion to call on a relation at Epping on his way to town 
 on urgent business, he had slept there, on account of the unsafeness of the 
 roads, and had started with the morning's dawn. The frank manner of Dick, 
 and his manly hearing, prejudiced Mr. Major in his favour ; yet being 
 like most sporting men, not a little given to braggadocio, ha could not 
 forbear laughing at our hero's apprehensions. 
 
 " I never had the luck," said he, " to meet any of these fire-eating blades ; 
 yet, as the gentry hereabouts have requested me, I've put my signature to the 
 requisition for the military. If I knew two or three whose staunchness I 
 could rely on, damme, but I'd have a try to trap some of these knights of the 
 road. There's Colonel Asher, the justice's brother; 'tis true he's a military 
 man, but I don't value him a straw. The humbug, when I asked his opinion, 
 prated as if he were about to open a campaign on the Rhine against King 
 Louis, instead of nabbing some three or four scurvy desperadoes. No, no ! 
 he's no good. It's one Turpin (Dick turned his head to conceal a smile) they 
 talk about most, and I've more than a guess that there's something in the 
 notion that, he's a lurking-place in the Forest here. I should like no better 
 sport, if they'd let me have three or four of the troopers — though I suppose 
 that would be contrary to military etiquette — than to unkennel them, with a 
 hound or two." 
 
 " You may unkennel one of them without red-cont or hound,*' cried Dick, 
 suddenly turning his horse against the shoulder of his antagonist's. " Deliver I 
 and go home safely to tell your friends, the justices, that you met Dick 
 Turpin !" 
 
 Mr. Major reined back his horse, for the salute was so sudden that he hardly 
 understood its import ; there was, however, no mistaking the look and gesture 
 of Dick. Mr. Major did not lack courage ; he dashed aside the presented 
 pistol with the butt of his riding-whip, struck spur into the flank of White- 
 stockings, passed Dick at a single bound, and had cleared some three strideB 
 ere our hero could give chase. Turpin had not fired his pistol — indeed, so desirous 
 was he not to do mischief, that its being upon half-cock alone secured it from 
 discharge when struck aside by Mr. Major. 
 
 "Stop! surrender! or I'll fire!'* exclaimed Dick. 
 
 Mr. Major, relying on the excellence of his horse, put still more ground 
 between them. 
 
 " ByG — !" muttered Dick between his teeth, " I'll be as good as my word ; 
 he's best mounted, but he shan't escape me !" 
 
 He raised his horseman's pistol to his eye, and took as deliberate aim as 
 his position would permit. A bystander might easily have seen, however, 
 that his practised jhand was directed far below the level of the flying rider 
 before him. Whitestockings shrunk momentarily, but on a hint from the armed 
 heel of her rider, again " laid out." A trickling stream of sanguine colour 
 showed itself down her broad buttock and muscular thigh, and threaded its way, 
 
DICK TURNN. 197 
 
 in bright scarlet, clown her fine white shank. Turpin eyed it with a 
 sir.ile. Still, nevertheless, though his hnrse was at its utmost, did the mare 
 not only hold her own, but was fast gaining on him ; and what was worse, 
 they were now at Friday Hill, within a mile of Woodford Wells. Turpin 
 drew his remaining pistol. 
 
 " Stop ! I warn you !" exclaimed he in a determined tone. 
 
 The only reply the fugitive deigned to this summons was to place one hand 
 behind liim and discharge a pistol, without aim. Dick raised his weapon to 
 a level with his shoulder ; but let it fall again, as if hesitating^whether ha 
 should throw away his last shot. 
 
 " No, I'll not — he must escape — I'll chance it !'' 
 
 Again was a low aim taken ; again the sharp crack echoed — the smoke 
 curled along the air — two ( bounds upon three legs — a sob — an abortive attempt 
 at a spring — and over fell Whitestockings, sending her rider rolling on 
 the road before her. Dick rode up to Mr. Major— the bullet had taken effect 
 in the hock, and the panting animal lay pifeously eyeing her flanks. Mr. 
 Major was on the ground slightly bruised, but by no means seriously hurt, and 
 Dick, keeping an eye on him, quickly reloaded his pistols. 
 
 The prostrate gentleman had now recovered his feet, and was about, in his 
 confusion, to make his way to his wounded horse ; this, however, Dick pre- 
 vented, for he doubted not that another pistol remained in the holster. 
 
 " Another yard nearer, and I'll shoot you !" said he. The half stunned and 
 smarting gentleman stared at him stupidly. " Come, quick, hand out — look 
 alive ! Your watch I'll take first, that's handiest, besides mine don't go just 
 now, but I'm sure yours will." 
 
 Mr. Major complied sulkily — he could not relish the jest ; and cast a look 
 at his wounded horse. 
 
 " D n," muttered he ; " I wouldn't mind my purse-— but to lose my White- 
 stockings — Fellow," said he, turning angrily to Turpin, (who with one hand 
 extended, and the other presenting the muzzle of the " liltle persuader" at 
 his head, sat waiting the delivery of the gold,) " you've done more mischief 
 than you can mend — I'd gladly give five such purses as this to have saved 
 her life.'' 
 
 " I've no time to argue,*" said Diek, looking warily along the road ; " tho' 
 as we seem pretty much by ourselves, I'll tell you — that brooch in your shirt 
 frill, if you please — that I'd the choice between you and your horse, and 1 seldom 
 miss. Thank my forbearance it's no worse : Whitestockings or yourself— 
 for you will observe I've hit her twice — I'll thank you for the studs from vour 
 ruflles and the clasp from your hat — must have fallen ; I took my choice, and 
 wherever you mention this Utile affair, be sure to set against your regret for 
 Whitestockings, the recollection that you owe your life to the forbearance of 
 Dick Turpin." 
 
 So saying, our hero clapped spurs to his steed, and an hour after he was 
 riding through London on another horse, having changed his dress, and 
 left his steed safe at the dwelling of a cousin of Tom King's, of the 
 name of Street, who kept a livery stable in the neighbourhood of White- 
 chapel. 
 
1 98 DICK TURPI N. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Ferdinand. To prison with 'em both: whatt call himself a gentleman, and play the ass! He's an 
 Impostor. 
 
 Leon. If all gentlemen that play the ass should to prison, you must widen your gaols. Hav» 
 not your gentry leave to be fools in this land, that they must therefore be thus maltreated? 
 
 Soto. Alas, our comedy's turned tragical— the tables are turned, and we true men are become the 
 luughing-s locks for the knaves. — Shirley. 
 
 San. My lord, what part play 1 7 
 
 Fer. What part do'st use to play 1 
 
 San. If you have ever a coxcomb, 1 think I could fit you. 
 
 Alo. And if you've ever a justice, I. For in the banquet scene I can guzzle, and talk big to a scurvy 
 cogging knave, with ever a fat paunch of them all. 
 
 San. Or, by Mars, a soldier's part I could play bravely. Your marches and counter-marches, 
 retreats, charges, sieges, and sallies; your tantarara and sal sal O, I could carbonado the enemy 
 rarely. A soldier's part, by all means. Old Play. 
 
 There was astonishment in the parlour, and alarm in the servants' hall, at 
 Mr. Justice Asher's, when, in the afternoon of the day on which Mr. Major 
 had been robbed, that gentleman returned on a borrowed horse, and related 
 the particulars of his adventure. 
 
 " By the lord Harry!" exclaimed Major, as heended his narration to the justice, 
 who had summoned his brother the Colonel, Dr. Tithe'em, and one or two other 
 of his guests, who had not as yet quitted their bedrooms, as a council ; — 
 " by the lord Harry, but the knave's a rare one. He's a fine fellow, too ; and 
 I could find it in my heart, if he hadn't shot Whitestockings, to be sorry such 
 a bold blade should stretch a rope. I'll remember his parting words, Dr. T., 
 and damme if I'll wag a finger against him — if I do, may I — " 
 
 " My dear sir," remonstrated the doctor ; " you are most assuredly losing 
 sight, in your improper admiration of this outlawed ruffian, of the duty you owe 
 to the social community, of which — I speak it in humility, and under due 
 correction, as not being a secular man — you ate a member. The duty towards 
 our country, and towards the interests of order and the protection of property, 
 are twofold ; firstly, the duty towards our country, as loyal men and subjects 
 of our most gracious prince, whom heaven long preserve, with all who are 
 placed in authority under him — " 
 
 " Ton my soul ! doctor," interrupted the colonel, " I'm somewhat drowsy, 
 I heard a good deal o' that on Sunday — and — you understand me," added he, 
 with a knowing wink, observing some of the servants grinning as their 
 converse. " I would advise," added he, " that the immediate march of a 
 cavalry detachment into these parts be urged on his Grace of Newcastle." 
 
 " And I," rejoined Dr. Tithe'em, who had a high opinion of pecuniary 
 temptation, " that a large reward should be offered, both by the hundred, and 
 by government, for the apprehension of the offenders." 
 
 " And the issue, of a proclamation, more especially pointed at this daring 
 villain," added Justice Asher. 
 
 *' I'll direct the operations of the troops," said the Colonel. 
 
 " Til place my name as the party by whom the reward will be paid, on the 
 lodgment of the felon in one of his Majesty's gaols," said the parson. 
 
 " And I'll undertake, if the means are placed at my disposal, that there 
 shall be no lack, either in form or in evidence, to convict the audacious thief," 
 said Justice Asher. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 199 
 
 To this colloquy of their worships, Mr. Major listened with a smile. 
 44 Well, well," said he, " I wish you all the success yoilr energy and good 
 intentions deserve ; yet, though I am bound by no promise whatever to the 
 bold-faced rascal who has plundered me and killed my horse — confound him 
 for that same — yet, as I before said, I'll not wag a finger to do him harm — 
 for I admire the fellow ; and if I had him before me with a troop of horse 
 at my back— damme, but I'd give him 4 law,' and a fair start for his life. 
 I'd not kill him in cold blood, master parson — it's not my creed.'' 
 
 The reverend doctor was preparing a formal reply, but Mr. Major cut it short by 
 leaving the room. The letter, signed by the magistrates, was duly despatched; 
 the official reply that the representations it contained had been " submitted to 
 the proper quarter," was returned ; and the next week, to the huge delight of 
 the colonel, the dragoons arrived, and were placed at the disposal of the military 
 magistrate. Mighty was the btistle at the justice's; the troops were quartered at 
 various inns on the road, and so judiciously were they divided and subdivided, 
 that, except where a regular patrol of the principal highways was made by them 
 in something like form, they were utterly useless, from their scattered and 
 isolated posts; which, exempting them from all surveillance, rendered them 
 formidable only to the beef, bacon, and ale, of the houses where they were 
 billetted ; and much less dangerous to the active "clerk of St. Nicholas" * than 
 to the virtue of the rustic serving wenches. 
 
 It was evening as two men, in the garb of farmers, stood conversing near 
 the door of a small ale-house. On the bench beside the door sat a toil-and- 
 travel-stained man, in a tattered sailor's garb ; he was of huge stature and 
 of great strength, and appeared to have lately tramped it from the coast. His 
 face was bronzed by exposure to the sun, his muscular throat was unconfined 
 by a neck-cloth, a worsted Guernsey frock supplied the place of shirt and 
 waistcoat ; and with a jack-knife in one hand and a lump of bread and bacon 
 in the other, the man seemed contented to let the world e'en wag its own way 
 for him. The two men were Turpin and King, who had assumed this disguise 
 with the view of procuring information of the whereabouts of their friends, the 
 dragoons. Turpin eyed the sailor closely ; he gave a slight shudder, and an 
 expression of dislike passed over his face. 
 
 44 Tom," said he, in a whisper to his companion, " that's Roger Haynes, 
 one of the murderers of my sainted wife ! " 
 
 King was surveying him attentively when the man raised his head; the 
 fellow looked confused. 
 
 44 Come away,'' said Turpin. " He was the least to blame of the wretches ; 
 in leed I believe he tried to save her,— but I'd rather not have — " 
 
 44 As you please," observed King ; and they walked slowly down the road. 
 The man seemed struck with a sudden thought; he followed, and overtaking 
 them, bid them " Good day." Turpin would fain have avoided him — he did 
 not ltke his suspicious and enquiring looks ; and in the hope of getting rid of 
 him, said — 
 
 44 My good fellow, if 'tis charity you seek, there's a shilling. Begone; this 
 gentleman and I are engaged on business." 
 
 These sound of his voice appeared at once to remove all doubts from the 
 man's mind. He suddenly advanced towards Turpin, and taking his hand, 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " A'd a laid a thoosand as it wor thee, tho' a've zeen thee but twice avore— 
 
 'The Highwayman. 
 
ISO DICK TtfRPIN. 
 
 wun9t when 'e« didn't z«« me, and wunst at Justioe DenUtoan's. A've but 
 one thino- on my mind, and that's a thing a'll not say a word on, for a' zee it 
 vexes ye, but no mortul breethin' daur zay as Roger Haynes — thof that's a neain 
 as mustn't be spoke — ever did harm, not even in his mind, to her. Will'ee 
 forgive — a' doant suppoze 'ee can vorget— (Turpin writhed at the allusion) : 
 a's as innocent as the babe as wor never born — a'll zwear afore G — .'' 
 
 Dick looked displeased ; but his disposition, as we have oft said, though 
 violent, was placable. 
 
 " I can't forgive," said he; "but go ; your life must be the forfeit if you 
 are discovered, I know that. Go !" 
 
 " A'll not," said the man doggedly. " A don't vally my life ; it's been no 
 great catch anyhaw zince that misfortunate job — a'll not rame it ag'in— A've 
 heerd o' your name zince I've been in these parts, and bin a longing to zee 
 ye — and if you'll take zarvice from one who's don'ee no harm o' purpose, 
 Roger Haynes will stick to 'ee back and edge." 
 
 Turpin looked doubtfully at his comrade, and Tom returned to the full 
 as dubioHS a look. Roger watched them with an anxious eye, and seemed, 
 as far as his rough features could express it, much hurt by their distrust. 
 "We'll strike into this wood," said Dick, pointing to a thicket by the 
 road-side, " and talk more of this : we may be overlooked ; " and the three 
 men left the highway. 
 
 In a few words Haynes explained to them the danger of their position — he 
 had overheard a conversation in the ale-house passage, from which it appeared 
 that arrangements had been made for their capture ; that close and accurate 
 descriptions of the persons of Dick, King, and Fielder, were in possession of 
 the magistrates ; that from information they had received it was gathered 
 that these highwaymen, wherever they lurked, had the means of stabling 
 their horses ; and lastly, that a woman, a stranger in the neighbourhood — 
 who had several times been watched to London, and who had there made 
 purchases, and had been lost sight of, as she unaccountably disappeared from the 
 highway, when near Waltham — was suspected of being an accomplice of the 
 robbers. That the communicant of this information to the publican, ( who 
 had retailed it, with additions of his own to a guest or two,) was Mr. Thomp- 
 son, the principal ranger of the forest ; and that he had hinted his knowledge 
 of the retreat of the highwaymen. This conversation, he told them, had 
 scarcely ended, when they came up, and he feared that this Thompson, who 
 had hastily left the house on their arrival — was gone for assistance to capture 
 them ; as he thought from his manner that he had recognized them, spite of 
 their disguise. 
 
 "By Jupiter, Dick," said King, with a smile, "this is sharp work; it 
 would be a pity though, as they seem determined to serve an ejectment on us, 
 not to give these clever men-hunters some token to remember us by. Damme 
 but it's a reflection on our bold profession, Dickon, to hunt such as 
 us like badgers. — Say the word, friend ; shall we take this fellow — he's 
 a rough-looking one, but there's something tells me we may trust — him 
 to our sanctum." 
 
 " Ay, certainly," replied Diok ; " I'm not often deceived in those I 
 trust. Come, no protestations,'' and Dick pressed Haynes's hand, " I'm an 
 outlaw myself, and I can feel for those whom society has thrust forth. 
 Pursued by men, I'll not refuse shelter to a man in the same strait as 
 myself. Come on; you shall see how we highwaymen live, though I 
 
PiCk' Ti'U'PIN. 
 
 '201 
 
 Tti> - Robbery .it Justii'e Ashei's. 
 
 distrusted you at first, T never do things by halves ; we're comrades from this 
 time furth.'' 
 
 For the next, two days Turpiti and King kept snug in their retreat. Madge, 
 too, was cautioned not to stir out, an injunction she readily obeyed. Fielder 
 and Roger Haynes, as the parties least likely to be recognised, were the only 
 persons who left the cave in search of information or necessaries. Turpin, 
 however, soon grew tired of this inactivity ; excitement and enterprise were 
 to him life, and on 'the third day, completely disguised, he and his friend Tom 
 ventured on an excursion. They soon possessed themselves of all necessary 
 information as to the force, position, and operations of their enemies ; nay, 
 one evening they met a party of dragoons, going with a petty officer to post 
 certain men at the public h mses in their immediate neighbourhood, upon whom 
 they so completely imposed by their disguise and address, that they not only 
 wormed from them every thing they wished to know, but received a courteous 
 good night, with a proffer of escort, which favour of course they politely 
 declined. 
 
 "And where were these redcoats going to?" asked Fielder of King, on his 
 return, when he related the circumstances of their meeting. 
 
 " Let me see :" said Tom, " I'll tell you : I could not help laughing in my 
 
 sleeve, when the fellow told me all their arrangements. He had left a man at 
 
 Chingford, another at Low Street; and two at Sewardstone — the last I must 
 
 say is a deuced deal more close to us than pleasant — and of the romaining five, 
 
 No. 26. 
 
202 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 two were for Walthamstow, two for Epping — and I know not where the devil 
 he didn't tell roe rest of their troop were scattered about. We shall have to- 
 cut these parts, Georgy my lad, that's clear.'' 
 
 " It's more than likely," said Turpin gaily ; for he had a heart whose courage 
 warmed, and a head whose coolness and determination rose with the dangers 
 which surrounded hiin. "It's more than likely that they may hunt us to 'earth' 
 — but we're not such fools, I hope, as to have but one hole to start to. No I 
 no! we'll astonish 'em yet, before we leave these Essex calves in quiet, posses- 
 sion of their grazing grounds. I've a scheme which will require all our force to 
 execute ; to-morrow I will myself ascertain whether its execution is practi- 
 cable."' 
 
 Fielder, who had taken a mighty fancy to Roger Haynes, with whom he 
 had been conversing in an undertone, now said:--- 
 
 " I've a scheme of mine too, Captain; I and Roger have been talking it 
 over, and if you don't want us for your business to-morrow, why, I think we 
 too may show 'em some sport." 
 
 " Don't get yourselves into mischief then,'' said Dick jokingly; "and you 
 may have holiday till the night after next at twelve. But, remember, then 
 we must meet all together at the oak to the right of Copthall green — twelve's 
 the hour ; no later." 
 
 " Ay, Captain," said Fielder, " we'll be with you. It will be rare sport, 
 Roger : we" 11 manage it prettily, ha ! ha!" and he laughed heartily at his own 
 conceit. 
 
 For some days the duty of the soldiers had been dreadfully harass- 
 ing; no less from the formal fooleries of old Colonel Asher than from 
 the false reports of robberies, perpetually spread, not only by Dhk 
 and his companions, but even by the lower classes ; with whom the 
 gallant highwavman, who robbed only the rich, was a special favourite. 
 Their dutv, indeed, had been no sinecure; at one time intelligence was 
 received by the soldier-magistrate, who had fixed his head quarters at his 
 brother's house, of some petty depredation, and no sooner had his soldiers 
 departed on an excursion after the delinquent, than a daring robbery was commit- 
 ted in the very place they had left; while his "merry men all," after a fatiguing 
 gallop across the country, returned to quarters only to find they had been 
 hoaxed. The worthy colonel gre«v splenetic and violent as these disappoint- 
 ments and mortifications increased. True it is that he, or rather individual 
 soldiers, succeeded in driving from the country the notorious Gregory* and 
 capturing or dispersing his desperate gang of footpads and burglars, which had 
 Jong infested the neighbourhood of Brentwood, Billericay, Horndon, and the 
 
 * Samuel Gregory, who was styled Captain of the " Essex G*ng," was, after 
 absconding from Essex, taken at Winchester, and, after a desperate resistance, con- 
 veyed to London, " chained under a horse's belly, guarded by eight armed men." He 
 was executed this year (173o) with three other malefactors, Lewis, Hughes, and 
 Sutton, for robbery and rape. Herbert Hayns, and others of his gang, were executed 
 at Chelmsford in the same vear, on the same day with Margaret Onions, who was burnt 
 alive for the murder of her husband. Joseph Gregory lay at that time desperately 
 wounded in Winchester Gaol. — See Monthly Register, in London Magazine, for 173a, 
 pages £82 and 391. The proclamation issued by the Secretary of State, after reciting 
 the robberies of Mr. Split at Woodford, Mr. Eldridge of Walthamstow, Mrs. Sbellev 
 of Layton, the Rev. Mr. Hyde of I'arudon, Sir Cajsar Child (who, resisting, had his 
 nose shot off,) &c, offers a reward of £50 to any person who shall lodge in gaol any 
 one of the offenders ; and during the session an act was passed making it a penal offence 
 for any person to travel the high road, disguised or otherwise disfigured. i 
 
DICK TU11PIN. 203 
 
 lower parts of the county; but these were mere low-lived offenders, and 
 though their dimes weie atrocious, thev were not the men he was most 
 anxious to capture, inasmuch as their depredations were rarely committed on 
 gentry or nobility ; and it was in favour of those classes chiefly that the sym- 
 pathy and zeal of the justice were most readily excited. 
 
 At Sewardstone was a small alehouse, once known as the Plough. It 
 was a little gable-ended structure of framework and mud, with a coating of 
 shells and pebbles ; hefore the door stood the indispensable horse-trough, 
 and on the top of a stout pole, in an iron frame, swung a dingy 
 board of mysterious colours, on which an ancient and clumsy con- 
 trivance, intended to do duty as a plough, had once been limned by 
 unskilful daubery of the village house-painter, whose admiration of the 
 cunning of his own right hand in this higher department of the art for several 
 years induced him (he now sleeps with his fathers) to take many a potof strong 
 ale beneath the shade of this pictorial achievement. The kitchen or tap of this 
 humble hostelrie was entered by a latched door from the small space of hoof- 
 indented ground which intervened between the house and the roadside. The 
 stabling, or rather long shed, for the accommodation of four-legged beasts was in 
 a line with the front of the premises, one half being devoted to the purposes of a 
 cart or chaise shed, the other to horses. In its front stood an empty dung- 
 cart with its shafts raised high in air, looking, in the dubious dusk of evening, 
 like the horns of some monstrous animal; behind the hedge which continued 
 the line, was the kitchen garden, and in the rear of the house the piggery of 
 the holding. The household consisted of the landlord, —once servant to a 
 neighbouring gentleman, but who had for many years changed the spruce pow- 
 dered grandeur of the squire's into the jolly, ungartered, slip-shod tun- 
 bellied Boniface; his wife (formerly the still woman of my lady) — who 
 was as strikingly metamorphosed from the prim propriety of the wearer of a 
 bunch of keys at "the great house'' ; a shock-headed stable boy; and a red- 
 elbowed, bare-legged, slatternly serving wench, with cheeks like " thumping 
 red potatoes," overfond of romping behind doors and in passages' with the 
 half-fuddled rustics who patronized the Plough. 
 
 In the kitchen of this hostel sat two dragoons ; in a corner stood their 
 huge iron-sheathed swords; they were busily masticating brown bread and 
 bacon, which they washed down with copious draughts of home-brewed, while 
 their noble black horses were similarly engaged with oats and water in the 
 shed beforementioned. 
 
 " What think'ee of this here Gregory ?" enquired one, of his comrade ; " he's 
 a rum 'an ; why I hear as he swore at the parson, sung all the way as he rode 
 to the gallus, and shied his shoes among the mob for good luck :* dang me, 
 but I likes a spirity chap: he was a game 'um.'' 
 
 " I'm not sure as his brother warn't as good as he," said the other; " they 
 do say as he wounded three of the sheriffs men, if he han't killed one on 'em, 
 afore they took him. Why did'nt they cut 'un down, or shoot 'un ; I'd stand 
 no repairs with such desperate varmiu.'' 
 
 * p ac t — S ee the account of his execution. An order had been made by the Lord 
 Mayor and sheriffs, that same year, forbidding any persons, under a heavy penalty, to 
 supply any culprit, on bis road to execution, with any intoxicating liquor — thus alio- 
 lisliin"' the well-known St. Giles's bowl : " there was therefore, "observes the writer in the 
 •' Monthly Register," anno 1735, "no reason to suspect, as in many other cases of 
 indecent behaviour, tbat the unhappy man was intoxicated." 
 
204 DICK TL KPIN. 
 
 " I'd like mainly to get a crack at this here Turpin," said the first sneaker; 
 " he's what 1 calls a nobby sort of a chap ; there's two hundred on him, catch 
 hun that catch can : domme, but I'll go down into the country, if I get it, an' 
 live like a genelman — I will.'' 
 
 While this talk was going on, two other guests entered the room ; they were 
 clodhopping-looking fellows, in short-worked smocks of a greenish colour, laced 
 ankle-boots, and worsted stockings; each wore a white round-crowned hat, of 
 coarse brown woollen, with a turned-up rim, and they were soon busied in 
 toasting two rashers of bacon before the fire. At the mention of Turpin, they 
 exchanged glances of peculiar meaning; their faces, however, were turned 
 from the speakers. Having called for bread, and a pitcher of humming ale, 
 they commenced their repast. 
 
 One of the newcomers was of large stature, and wore a black wig ; the 
 shorter one concealed his dark brown locks beneath a well-made sandy crop of 
 h dr, and a pair of red whiskers. They were not long in scraping acquaint- 
 ance with the soldiers, and as their pouches seemed tolerably well lined with 
 shillings and groats, the men of war, whose capaciousness of swallow was cer- 
 tainly out of all proportion with the scantiness of their purses, by no means 
 discouraged their advances. The shorter countryman proposed a toss for a 
 tankard — the troopers assented ; and the stale game of " most heads or most 
 tails'' being proposed and agreed on, the rustic so managed it that either 
 himself or his clumsy companion lost in almost every turn. Their money, 
 nevertheless, as well as their patience, seemed not easily exhaustible: the 
 soldiers laughed and drank heartily, so elated were they with their extiaor- 
 dinarv success, while the countrymen scratched their heads and cursed their 
 hard luck, as with feigned desperation they hazarded again and again the fortune 
 of the coin, occasionally doubling the venture to two pots. The red-coats 
 were too eager and too thirsty to notice, farther than by a passing remon- 
 strance, that the strangers, though raising each time the vessel to their mouths, 
 cleverly avoided taking their share of the drink. The evening drew on, and 
 some dozen of quarts of the " right stuff" had been swallowed before the 
 soldiers cried " hold, enough," and proposed to their new acquaintances a tem- 
 porary adjournment of the sitting, on the plea that it was their duty to ride, 
 from seven till ten, from Low Street to Waltham Cross. 
 
 "That's dom'd unlucky,'' exclaimed one in his feigned accent; "can't one 
 o' ye go, and so take a turn about for a hour — eh ?" 
 
 The soldiers assented; but as some altercation ensued as to which should 
 take the first hour's turn, it ended by their mutually agreeing that there was no 
 need, provided they kept their own counsel, to leave the fireside and nappy at 
 all. 
 
 The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter 
 
 An' ay the ale was growing better; 
 
 The landlady and Tarn grew gracious, * , . 
 
 Wi' favours secret, sweet, an' precious; 
 
 Kings may be ble6t, but [they] were glorious, 
 
 O'er a' the ills of life victorious. 
 
 Ten had struck, and by this time the rough familiarity of the drunken 
 troopers had more than once procured for them a hearty thwack from the 
 mutton fist of the sturdy kitchen-wench ; the landlord too, left the. table, where 
 he had been helping off, in the way of trade, not a few pints of the reckoning ; 
 when the two countrymen desired to know whether they eould be aecommo- 
 
DICK TtKiMN. 205 
 
 dated with a bed. The dragoons were in the occupancy of the only spare 
 one, but so delighted were they with the liberal joskins who had so gloriously 
 filled tliein with nut-brown ale, that they swore, in the fulness of their hearts 
 and stomachs, that they should have theirs ; and to this, with pretended re- 
 luctance, the strangers agreed. 
 
 All was silent within and without; the cricket chirrupped in the chimney 
 chinks; the dying embers yet glowed on the slow-cooling hearth. Within a 
 barricade, formed by an overturned bench, which sheltered them from the keen 
 draught admitted beneath the door, enveloped in their borsemeu's cloaks, lay 
 (he sleeping soldiers. The care of Dolly — for so was the wench called — had, 
 however, sufficiently marked her preference; for while one of the loud- 
 snoring drunkards lav, with unprotected head, on the bare flooring, the younger 
 and s'i^hter one reposed his on a hay-pillow from the wench's bed, and was 
 carefully covered by a horse-cloth ; nay, had not his helpless state of intoxi- 
 cation annihilated all his powers of locomotion, it is questionable whether the 
 son of Mars might not have occupied the bed itself. With noiseless steps and 
 stealthy tread the two countrymen entered from the passage, and were soon 
 busy ah mt the persons of thd heavy sleepers. They disencumbered them of 
 their cartouches, crossbelts, and swords; and one of them, having unfastened 
 the door, took charge of the various accoutrements, went out, and returned. 
 The few halfpence remaining in the p >ckets of the soldiers were taken, when the 
 shorter man", in a low whisper, said — 
 
 " Roger, brins the saddles, bridles, and pistols: hist! the joke will not be 
 half completed unless we take their horses. Go softly out — and give the 
 signal when all's ready. I'll watch here." 
 
 He left the room : the man who stayed behind stood for a few seconds in the 
 attitude of listening ; he looked on the faces of the slumberers, and a smile 
 stole across his features. Sttpping on tiptoe to the fire-place, he selected from 
 the embers a piece of wood perfectly charred, and- after ascertaining it to be 
 cold, smutted their faces in the most, ludicrous manner — he stopped and smiled 
 — again and again did he touch and retouch the "visnomies" of the slumberers 
 with true Hogarthian zest, grinning all the while " consumedly," till a low 
 whistle brought hirn on his feet, and he too left the place. The companions, 
 after breaking the troopers' swords, deposited them in the dungheap ; the horses 
 were rode off through the forest in the direction of Chingford Green, and there 
 cast loose ; and before two in the morning, Turpin and King were laughing 
 heartily at the merry narration by Fielder and Haynes of their evening's diversion 
 with the dragoons. 
 
 Let us now return to the justice's mansion. At a library table in the 
 drawing-room sat the Colonel ; before him lay spread a large county map ; on 
 its surface were traced in red ink many mysterious zigzags, doubtless consi- 
 dered by the profound and puzzled tactician who had drawn them as evidences 
 of military skill and sagacity which must immortalize their projector. He 
 was evidently ill at ease, both in body and mind — for his foot was swathed in 
 flannel, owing to an attack of his old besieger, the gout ; while the indignity 
 put upon the troops under his command—and of which the particulars had but 
 just been reported by his nephew, a young officer, who stood respectfully 
 by his chair— had by no means soothed his natural irascibility. Muttered 
 curses struggled to his moving lips, but decorum forbad their coming to full 
 growth. 
 
 " And so, Bennett, these scoundrels suffered themselves to be made drunk 
 
'206 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 and rol)beJ by a couple of bacon-fed rustics — eh ? They shall be flogged, 
 Bennett. I'll court-martial them to-morrow, by G — . Sure such disgrace 
 was never before suffered by the army of our King — God bless him. I shall 
 write this night to the Horse-Guards — are they under arrest — in safe cus- 
 tody— eh V 
 
 The young officer replied in the affirmative, and the Colonel fell into a 
 brown study. 
 
 " I see how it is," said he, thinking aloud. "This infernal gout which has 
 so unluckily taken me in toe, will be the ruin of the campaign. J he horses, 
 you say, were found on Chingford Green?" 
 
 "No; in the church-yard, sir," said the officer. 
 
 " And their swords in a dung-heap," muttered the Colonel, choking with 
 indignation. 
 
 His nephew assented by a bow. 
 
 " By powder and shot," continued he, " I swear I'll give no quarter, while 
 grass grows or water runs, to these insolent scoundrels, till this indignity 
 to our profession is wiped out. I've received information this very day from 
 Thompson the ranger— who's certainly (with the co-operation of the military ) 
 very active an 1 useful in hunting out these scoundrels— I've received inform- 
 ation, as I said before, that two of these audacious villains are the very dogs who 
 robbed that convicted rogue, lawyer Sheepshanks, of some hundreds of pounds of 
 Sir Litton Weston's rents. They'd a narrow squeak for it that time ; 'tis some 
 years ago ; and the fellows only escaped through my horse being knocked up, for 
 we had been all day out with Sir Marmaduke's hounds. By gad, th. y must 
 have been cursedly frightened, Bennett, for 'between the devl' and the deep 
 sea,' they chose the last, and swam the Thames to Plumstead Marshes; they 
 must have been damnably afraid of us to chance their lives— but they shall 
 die a drier death yet, Bennett, so sure as I hold his majesty's commission. 
 Did 1 ever tell you, Bennett, how I proposed to cross the river after 'em, and 
 hunt 'em through Kent, but none of the party would volunteer?" 
 
 The young officer, who balanced his large expectations from his bachelor 
 uncle against the infliction of his tedious harangues, had become an admirable 
 listener, a qualification indispensable to expectant legatees, but one most painful 
 and patience-trying in its acquisition : he accordingly, by a nod, implied 
 the gratification which the narrative, to which he had listened some hundred 
 times, would impart on its hundred and first repetition. 
 
 The old gentleman, however, paused. Nature had not blessed him origi- 
 nally with any peculiar perspicacity of intellect; and an over-indulgence in black 
 strap, the conceit engendered by easy circumstances, with the non-contradiction 
 of his whimsical absurdities, had by no means strengthened a mind weak 
 ab ovo. 
 
 " Where the devil was I," he soliloquised ; " ah, ah — about swimming the 
 river — yes — I told 'em then, when I was under prince Eugene — I was a 
 younker at that time — how our heavy dragoons forded — swam I mean; 
 oh, ah — Bennet, just shift my footstool," said the old man querulously; 
 " you might have seen me uneasy for this long time, but you don't care, 
 not you. Well, about these insolent fellows, who have dared thus to 
 insult his Majesty's troops ; look here, Bennett— (the young man smiled 
 as his uncle turned his body to the map). Here, you see, (and he drew 
 his forefinger along the red lines)— I'm afraid though, boy, that you, having 
 never seen the combined operations of the great Marlborough, or of Eugene, 
 
DICK rUUPIN. 207 
 
 will not be able to understand what, on a small scale, I have here done 
 in imitation of their grand campaigns. Here you see, at Chelmsford, 1 
 post my extreme right; while this dotted line, extending, you observe, across 
 the country to a little southward of Stratford-le-Bow, may be considered as 
 the base-line of the operations, by which we shall sweep the county, at least 
 those western hundreds which it is the plan of my campaign to clear of this 
 enetnv. The hunareds of Becontree, Havering Liberty, Chafford, Barstable, 
 and Chelmsford," said the old gentleman, drawing his finger slowly along the 
 map, "I consider as already cleared; and the hundreds of Ongar, Waltham, 
 Harlow, and Dunmow, will form the next series of operations." 
 
 A lurking laugh played round the lips of the young officer as he thought, 
 that in these cleared districts, or those in what his uncle called " occupation," 
 the whole of the recent depredations had been committed. He repressed the 
 smile — and the old Colonel went on : 
 
 "As to those drunken villains — I've scarcely patience to think of it — who 
 have subjected our arms to this disgrace, I'll see them pickled — and the out- 
 lawed villains who were the instruments of this indignity shall expiate their 
 crime — aye — I'll cut down the best oak on my estate to build their gallows, 
 and I'll have its remains made into an easy chair, in which I'll sit and tell how I 
 avenged the affront done to my cloth. I remember, Bennett," said he, in reply to 
 some soothing remonstrance from his nephew, "when Marshal Tallard dared 
 to boast — that was when I was with Marlborough, not long before Blenheim 
 — I remember when Tallard boasted that with three thousand men he 
 would — " 
 
 "A man waits below stairs with a letter from Mr. Thompson, of the great- 
 est consequence, sir," said a servant entering. 
 
 " Bid him send it up," replied the Colonel. 
 
 "He says, sir, as it is so vastly pressing as he must give it into nobody's 
 hands but your own." 
 
 " Show hinr here then," said the colonel, for he observed military bre- 
 vity in his conversations with subordinates. 
 
 The man came up, scraped a bow, and delivered his commission; the 
 Colonel broke the seal, and read as follows: — 
 
 Navestock, Saturday evening, 7 o'clock. 
 Honoured Sir, 
 " I hope the urgency of the occasion will excuse my troubling you with this, 
 but if your arrangements will permit you to place two or three of your men 
 under my guidance, I have not a doubt but that I shall be able, before morning, 
 to bring before you the noted Turpin, as well as other two of his associates. 
 I write this in haste, as I have applied to the nearest station at Stanford Rivers, 
 but the men refuse to stir without written orders under your own hand. 
 " With the greatest respect and veneration, 
 " 1 remain, Sir, 
 
 " Your most, humble servant to command. 
 
 "John Thompson." 
 
 The old gentleman brightened up as he read the letter, but on further 
 thought, his countenance fell. 
 
 "D n,'' grumbled he, thinking aloud; "how's this to be done? it is 
 
 stonishing how these jacks-in-oflice — I beg the authorities at the Horse- 
 
208 DICK TUftPIN. 
 
 guards' pardon-- it is astonishing how we commanders are crippled by this ill- 
 judged economy, this niggardly denial of means to effect the most brilliant 
 services. I remember my Lord Cadogan — he commanded t lie cavalry in. Flanders 
 — used to say— he said once to me — Asher, says he, 1 wish those red-tape-tying 
 fellows in London had to " 
 
 The young lieutenant pointed to the man who stood waiting -ap, answer ; 
 and the gesture recalled his uncle's tongue from his ramble in tlie Low 
 Countries. 
 
 "Oh, aye, the man waits an answer — yes— you come from Mr. Thompson ?"' 
 
 The man replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Damme, if I've got any men— who's below, Bennett ?" 
 
 "There's your orderly, uncle, and a trooper --and couldn't I go? I'll go 
 with pleasure, if you will spare me. The three of us, with Thompson, are 
 surely enough— -and if my wish has any weight, dear uncle, I would add my 
 request, that you will allow me to take some more active share in this business, 
 than merely writing orders and acting as your secretary/' 
 
 " Ay, ay; no doubt you're tired enough of staying with a gouty old man," 
 saiil his uncle testily ; " you'd like a great deal better, I dare say, to be gallop- 
 ping across'the country, than getting the more important knowledge which an 
 intimacy with the practice of combined operations will give you ; ay, ay — 
 headstrong, shortsighted hovs, think war's all fighting, but grey-headed old 
 veterans know better; they know the head's stronger than the arm, boy; and 
 so will you, if you live to see the service I have seen. But you shall go, 
 nevertheless — you shall go, and old Thomas shall wait on me; no one shall 
 say the public service suffered for the convenience of old Colonel Asher — no ! 
 no! Send up the two men, John, (he addressed the servant) — send them up; 
 for it will be necessary I should instruct them myself as to the duties they are 
 about to perform." 
 
 The young lieutenant left the room, and soon returned fully equipped for his 
 excursion. The man left the house with them, and the party took the direc- 
 tion, through the forest, towards Navestock. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock on a dark and uncomfortable night when they set 
 out, and young Bennett, who knew but little of the country, (his two troopers 
 knew nothing), was obliged implicitly to trust to the knowledge of their 
 guide They rode in single file, at a slow pace, for about an hour, along an 
 intricate bridle-mad. 
 
 " And where is this Navestock, friend ?" asked the young officer of the 
 messenger. 
 
 " Some seven mile yet," said the fellow coolly ; " it 'ull be near twelve, 
 I'm thinkin', afore we're there. I wish as how Mister Thompson had ha' 
 gotten some 'un else for this here job, for I shall be main tired a' time I gets 
 back." 
 
 They rode on, until they came to two diverging roads ; their guide paused 
 in momentary hesitation, and muttered something as if in doubt. 
 
 " You're sure of your road, I hope ?" asked young Bennett. > 
 
 " I'm pretty sure it's the right hand road," said the fellow, " but it's so 
 darn'd dark as I cau't zee a pig from a hollybush. Oh, ay, I've got it — yes, 
 yes," and he rode forward at a slow and cautious pace, the young officer keeping 
 close .by his side. W& 
 
 They had now gone about five hundred yards along this road, which seemed 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 20) 
 
 Turtin ilirWs Itir Uhnt'er. 
 
 to become more and more intricate, tangled, and less beaten at every step, 
 when the man again stopped. 
 
 " Dang it," said he, " this is main rpieer ; there's the oak, else my eyes 
 doan't sarve me, wi' a white blaze on the hark on't ; d'ye see it, zur ? but it's 
 to the right hand, 'stead o' the left on ns. I'm a thinkin' there's some mislake 
 about us — 1 doan't know though, 'xactly,'" and the man lifted his hat and 
 
 ScratclveJ his ear, the infallible resource 
 To which your puzzled people have recourse. 
 
 The young officer's blood rose at the fellow's stupidity and eoolness. 
 
 "Curse it,'' exclaimed he, "you've brought us on a pretty fool's errand: 
 push on into the nearest highway. Put us into some civilised road, out of 
 this infernal wilderness, my good fellow, and leave us to enquire the way for 
 ourselves. We've tongues in our heads, and there's surely some dwelling or 
 alehouse to be found, where we may get put right. I wonder what the devil 
 Mr. Thompson could be about to send such a dunderhead on an important 
 service. So you don't know the road after all, you infernal blockhead !" ex- 
 claimed the young soldier, who was provoked by the fellow's silence, for it 
 was so dark from the shadows of the clouds which overspread the sky, and the 
 thick and lofty trees around them, that he could not see his face. 
 
 " I think ye might be civil when a chap's a-doin' his best," grumbled the 
 fellow; " I know my way well enow ; ye an't near no highroad, as I knows 
 No. 27. 
 
210 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 on, till ye get out o' this wood. I*ve a bin doin' all as T could to take ye a 
 short cut, but if ye like to go back to Theydon Gemon — them's the houses 
 and church we passed some time agone — p'raps we might do better by gettin' 
 in the road ; for it's at Kelvedon Hatch as we're to meet Muster Thompson, 
 d'ye see.'' 
 
 " Confound the fellow," said Bennett ; " lead us somewhere out of this, and 
 be hanged to you ! Don't stand shilly-shallying here — -show us a road out 
 of this devil's hole, and I'll answer we'll gallop to this — how d'ye call it?" 
 
 " Kelvedon Hatch," said the man sulkily ; " this here's called Beachet 
 Wood ;* thof if I can't hit the road it 'ull be sadly out of our way, I must 
 say — it's so very dark too, you see." 
 
 The officer's patience was exhausted : he burst into a volley of execrations 
 on the fellow's perverse dawdling. 
 
 • " Lead us out of this, or I won't answer for your bones," said he peremp- 
 torily. 
 
 " Well, zur, I'll do that the shortest way : just let's go back as far as the 
 fork of this here road, and I'm zure as I'll put ye in the train. Ay, ay," 
 muttered he, "it's all right; yes, yes — there's the tree wi' the blaze on the 
 bark as I told ye on." 
 
 The officer strained his eyes, but it was too" dark for him to see. They 
 were now, by having passed their men in the narrow way, about half a 
 dozen yards in advance; beside the road, or rather pathway, was a deep 
 tlitch — beyond it, on a bank, a quickset hedge. The last speech of the 
 countryman had directed Bennett's attention to the bole of a huge tree, the 
 branches of which overhung the road ; and the young officer was stooping 
 over his saddle-bow, shading his eyes with his hand to strengthen his sight, 
 when the countryman by his side, taking advantage of his position, adroitly 
 slipped his foot from his stirrup, stooped and seized the officer by the back of his 
 ankle, and by one sudden lift cleanly unhorsed him. An exclamation was all 
 that escaped his lips ere the lieutenai.t lay at his length in the long rank 
 grass ; and the first idea that anything was amiss was conveyed to the asto- 
 nished troopers by the crash of boughs and the simultaneous exclamations of 
 George Fielder and their officer. 
 
 " Good night, gentlemen," shouted the highwayman, as he dashed through 
 the crashing thicket. ; " good night, gentlemen ; keep the road to the right, 
 and look cut for the blazes on the trees— ha ! ha! ha!" 
 
 " Fire ' shoot the scoundrel ! fire !" thundered Bennett, as he started to his 
 feet, and rushing knee-deep into the wide drain, endeavoured in vain to 
 scramble mi the steep-scarped clav-bank on the opposite side, over which 
 Fielder's horse had lightly carried him. The carbines of the soldiers rattled, 
 and their sharp report awoke the echoes of the wood, as the harmless bullets 
 glanced against the trees from the random discharge. 
 
 " Pursuit must be useless," exclaimed Bennett bitterly, as he stood with 
 folded arms in tiie pathway. " How can I shew my face again ? Damnation ! " 
 and the young man ground his teeth. "My uncle's a cursed old fool, I begin 
 to think — why we shall be the laughing stock of every chaw-bacon in the 
 •country ! One night they make our men drunk, and rob them ; the drunk- 
 
 * The render must bear in mind that the small patches of, timber now dignified by 
 the title of woods, are but little segments of the great forest of Hainault, which for- 
 merly covered the face of south-western Essex. 
 
DICK TCRPIN. 211 
 
 enness ; tin ugh no excuse for them, in some measure wipes off the indignity 
 pur. «n the troops — but what shall we say — in our sober senses, to be thus 
 fooled? " 
 
 The rustling of boughs died away and a joyous halloo was heard in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " i'd give the brightest — but no ! Roberts ! hold my horse.*' 
 The two dragoons had sat still as statues during this soliloquy. The 
 svstem bv which the modern soldier is reduced to a mere machine, ( neither 
 bravery bringing promotion nor enterprise fame, condemned to one dead level 
 of irresponsibility, except so far as the machine duty of soldiership requires,) 
 rendered them perfectly indifferent to the success or failure of any adventure 
 they might be engaged in. True it was that they fully possessed that animal 
 courage and national pride which is inseparable from the English character, 
 and that they would right well and boldly when the occasion called for their 
 arm and sword ; but they had no stimulus for seeking fame, therefore did 
 no more than what they called their duty, and having no share in the respon- 
 sibility they entered not into the feelings of their officer ; in short, there was no 
 sympathy between them ; so, without a word of regret, except a whisper that if 
 " they'd ha' known it they might ha' collared him an' got the reward," they 
 set about retracing their steps to the highroad. 
 
 " The letter is a forgery ; that's clear," soliloquised Bennett, " so it can 
 be of no use going on to Kelvedon. I wonder where this Navestock really 
 is. I shouldn't wonder if that's a humbug too, and Thompson don't live 
 there. Well, turn out how it will, I'll not go back to the old Colonel till 
 I've done something, as I've broke bounds for once." 
 
 They rode on, but such was the perplexedness and intricacy of the path, 
 that in ten minutes they found themselves again approaching the same 
 spot. 
 
 w I'll return to that gap, leap the bank, and follow the track of that villain," 
 said the officer. 
 
 This proved their wisest plan, for within three hundred yards they found 
 themselves at the side of a lane, through which they gained the road, and 
 soon arrived at a small public house, where we shall leave them, seeking 
 information to guide their search. 
 
 The clock had just struck eleven ; and the worthy Colonel, having imbibed 
 a stiff glass of " hot with,'' sat dozing in his well-stuffed chair. Old Thomas, 
 too, with the familiarity of " antique service," was enjoying a cat-sleep in a 
 chair, placed at a respectful distance behind his master. The other servants 
 of the house had retired to rest in the various offices attached to the mansion, 
 for, except on " boozing days," the'household maxim was '' early to bed and 
 early to rise." The Colonel, however, among his other freaks, had lately 
 made a practice of sitting up all night, or rather sleeping in a perpendicular 
 instead of a horizontal position, from a notion that this change in his mode 
 of resting must have some mysterious influence upon the issue of what he 
 called "the campaign.'' A fat little spaniel, the property of his niece, lav on 
 the thick worsted hearth rug, its pink nose snugly sheltered between its foiv. 
 feet, and its long silken ears of brown contrasting beautifully with the gay 
 colours of the carpeting. The last named member of the trio was certainly 
 the most vigilant ; and he it was who first became aware of the approach of 
 visitors. A creak was heard, and Pompey raised his head, shook his ears, 
 turned his nose enquiringly towards the door, and gave a most suspicious 
 
212 t>lCK TULIP IN. 
 
 sniff. The intelligence thus nasally conveyed was far from satisfactory, for 
 i'om'pey followed it by the vocal enquiry of a sharp short bark, at the same 
 time walking leisurely from his lair. 
 
 "Lie down, Pompey ! '' grumbled Thomas; but Pompey's instinct was not 
 to be put down by old Thomas's veto. He gave two or three calls for expla- 
 nation so shrill and imperative that the drowsy Colonel snuffled out, — 
 
 " Thomas, turn that clog out ; d— n him, he's been barking all the night." 
 
 Thomas seized the offender, who was now close to the door, and had just con- 
 signed him to a large closet which led from the room, when the door of the 
 apartment opened, and three men with crape on their faces, stole softly in. 
 One stepped lightly to the table, and secured the arms of the Colonel— not 
 his weapons but his bodily appendages. The old gentleman opened hia 
 eves. 
 
 "What Thomas — eh? God bless me!" and he became aware that some- 
 body was tying his limbs to the elbows of his chair. " Eh, how I " 
 
 " Hist ! silence !" said the intruder. 
 
 The Colonel stared, and saw within a short twelve inches of his head, the 
 muzzle of a pistol. The man clicked the hammer as he drew the weapon 
 to full cock, 
 
 " n has a strange qulch jrti apon the ear, 
 
 That coekiny; of u pistol, when jou know 
 A moment more will bring its elgUt to bear 
 
 Upon your uersjon— V 
 
 says Byron ; but the bard's unpleasant sensation supposed " twelve yards off, 
 or so," as the space between your head and the " explosive tube.'' Now it 
 must be admitted, in this case, that the unpleasantness was dreadfully aggra- 
 vated by the reduction of the twelve yards to twelve inches, and the proximity 
 interfered greatly with the restoration of the Colonel's mental equilibrium. 
 
 That something dreadful was going on he saw, but his awakening, with the 
 omission of the u tweaks" and " thwacks," was as slow as that of Sir Hudibras 
 from his " swound." He fixed his eyes with a stolid seriousness on the gaily 
 dressed robber before him. 
 
 *' Hoy, Thomas! wdiy, what -*•* 
 
 44 Another word and you're a dead man ! v said the masked robber in a low 
 determined voice. 
 
 The Colonel was silent. 
 
 Thomas had meantime been safely bound by one of the other men j and 
 they were soon actively employed in rummaging the place. The massive family 
 plate, which shone on the sideboard, was rapidly transferred to a sack by one, 
 while the other stuffed his pockets with the various valuables which an exami- 
 nation of the repositories, drawers, escritoires, &c. presented. The evolutions 
 of this small body of rifle-men, though displaying great skill and readiness, 
 were by no means gratifying to the old soldier. He had watched their pro- 
 ceedings in silence for some minutes, when one of them, among some other 
 articles of jewelry, pocketed a large ring set with pearls, then his tongue be- 
 came loosed — 
 
 " You seem," said he to the holder of the pistol, making at the same time 
 an uneasy shift of his head to place it out of the line of the barrel, " to be 
 the leader of these scuun 1 beg their pardons — these a — a — a — " 
 
DICK TURt'IN 213 
 
 " I perfectly understand yon. sir,'' replied the stronger ; "you ar« right. I 
 am the leader of those a — a — a— a's you say." 
 
 " That ring contains the hair of a dear relation, and I value it far beyond 
 what you would get for it if — " 
 
 "Say no more, sir," said he of the vizor ; and making a sign the ring was 
 given to him, and he placed it in the hand of the Colonel. 
 
 The old gentleman stared, as well he might. 
 
 " And, now sir, before we go, perhaps we might as well let you know how 
 you come to be honoured by this visit. You received a letter from me — ah, 
 here it is, (and the man took up the epistle which still lay open upon the 
 table,) I promised you here, I see," said Dick smiling, "tho',by the bye, I've 
 signed another man's name — (the Colonel's eyes underwent a saucer-like ex- 
 pansion as the true state of affairs dawned on him) — I've promised, I see, to 
 bring before you the noted Turpin, and other two of his companions, and as 
 I seldom bark without biting, say what else you like against me, you can't 
 charge me with breaking my word." 
 
 The Colonel at last saw clearly— and his fears were immediately awakened 
 for his nephew rather than himself. For the old man had some good qualities; 
 he did not lack courage, venerated the memory of his sister, and though con- 
 tinually scolding his nephew, as indeed he did every one about him, had a 
 strong and sincere affection for the young roan. Seeing some symptoms of 
 departure — one of the men was tying the mouth of the sack— he said, 
 
 "For God's sake tell me if anything has befallen the lad— the officer I mean 
 -—who left this night on thn information of that letter. If he is, as I fear, iu 
 your power, gentlemen, release him unhurt, and I'll undertake to recompense 
 you in any way that you — " 
 
 " Make yourself easy, Colonel, on that score ; if I didn't well know the 
 man who brought you this, I should fear for my comrade's safety ; but I 
 know be has mother-wit enough to tip your dragoons the slip. Your nephew 
 is somewhere wandering in the Forest, with his companions, and I've no doubt 
 will be here in the morning as soon as they have light to see the way— for I 
 don't reckon they'll be able to feel it. Now lads, bustle, look alive, we 
 musu't overload ourselves ; adieu, my dear Colonel — compliments to Marl- 
 borough and Eugene ; all stratagems fair in war, you know, and when next 
 you plan a campaign, take care the enemy don't visit you at head quarters. 
 Good bye !'' 
 
 So saying, Tnrpin walked through the doorway, turned to make a low bow 
 to the fast-bound Colonel, who sat biting his lips in silence, and hastened after 
 his comrades. 
 
214 DICK TUUPIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The flying rumouis gathered as they rolled, 
 Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told — 
 .And nil who told it added something new, 
 And all who heard it made enlargement toe- 
 in every ear it sped, on every tongue it grew. 
 
 — Temple of Fame. (Pope's paraphrase.) 
 
 The bold and active conquer difficulties, 
 By daring to attempt them ; sloth and fear 
 Shiver and shrink ut sight of toil or hazard, 
 
 And make the impossibility they dread. .-_ ) 
 
 — Rowe's Stepmother. 
 
 I hold a mouse's wit not worthe a leke, 
 That hath but one hole for to sterten to, 
 And if that fciille then is she alle ydo. 
 
 Chaucer — The Wif of Bathe's Prologue. 
 
 The country was now thoroughly roused, and dangers and difficulties thick- 
 ened round our hero and his companions. The audacious robbery of Mr. 
 Major, almost within sight and hearing of a town-end ; the ignominious usage 
 of the "bold dragoons;" the befouling of the self-appointed commander-in- 
 chief by an impudent forgery ; the daring overthrow of the young officer, by 
 which the supposed countryman effected his escape ; and lastly, the crowning 
 audacity of Turnin's burglary at the justice's, and the binding of the Colonel, 
 set all tongues going, and commanded the attention of all public functionaries, 
 to these alarming infractions of the law and defiance of social order. Not 
 only did the magistrates of Chelmsford issue their manifestoes in borough, 
 village, and market town, offering rewards, and announcing the means taken 
 for public security — some of which present a curious picture of the state of 
 intercommunication and police a hundred years ago — but the good citizens of 
 London took the alarm. Among the proceedings of the Court of Common 
 Council,* we find the following: — 1. " An act of the Common Council For 
 the better enforcing the laws relating to rogues, vagabonds, &c. &c. ;" 2. "An 
 act for the better regulating watch and ward ;'' 3. "An act for enforcing the 
 apprehending and committing to jail loose and idle persons unable to give 
 account of their livelihood, S'c. &c. ;" and much discussion took place on a 
 plan submitted to the Corporation for rendering the trainbands efficient, and 
 establishing a system of watch and patrol for the apprehension of robbers in 
 London and its suburbs, which scheme appeared in the form of a thin octavo, 
 London, 1737. But to return to our narrative. 
 
 Hot was the search, and untiring the quest of horse and foot after sus- 
 picious and disreputable characters, but more especially the perpetrators of 
 the late daring offences. Gentlemen and yeomen rode the highways, and 
 constables and headboroughs searched the alehouses and lodginghouses ; beg- 
 gars were put in the stocks, pedlars committed to gaol, vagrants whipped and 
 carted to the town-ends, and woe betide the stroller or gipsey who could not 
 or would not give an account of his or her way of getting bread.; The gentry, 
 especially the younger ones, took to horse-patrolling ; which, in the absence 
 
 * These Acts will be found under the article " London," in Cat. Brit. Mus., wLere 
 they are arranged chronologically, anno 173G-7, ei seq. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 215 
 
 of other sport, proved jovial amusement ; and the innkeepers reaped a glorious 
 harvest from this general bustle. As for Turpin, he had come to the conclu- 
 sion that King's Oak was no longer a residence for him, and that his" occupation 
 was gone'" so far as the county of Essex was in question ; he accordingly made 
 every preparation for " flitting," and now only waited a favourable opportu- 
 nity. He had settled in his own mind to effect his escape across the country 
 to Nazing Marsh ; thence, under cover of night, to pass the boundary of the 
 county near Broxbourne, where, being beyond the jurisdiction of the magis- 
 trates of Essex, he anticipated pursuit would most probably cease, and thence 
 to continue his journey through Herts and Huntingdon, and so crossing the 
 north-eastern end of Northamptonshire, fix himself in Lincolnshire. Several 
 considerations moved him to this, which we may hereafter notice. A light 
 cart had been procured, in which, with some of the lighter valuables, it was 
 purposed that Dick and his cava sposa, disguised as countryfolks, should 
 make their way to the rendezvous, which was fixed to be Mob's Hole, near 
 the river Rhee, at the junction of the three shires of Herts, Huntingdon, and 
 Cambridge. There was policy in this, as in those days the mere slipping 
 from county to county gave a chance in favour of the fugitive which was worth 
 consideration ; King, travelling as a country gentleman, was also to meet them 
 there. 
 
 All was now ready for starting ; Dick and Madge were the sole occupants 
 of the cave, for Fielder was in London, with Haynes, turning their late booty 
 into cash among the Israelites of Bevis's Marks and Monmouth Street. The 
 plate and other property obtained by their late adventure had been concealed 
 on the morning of the robbery, in the Marshes near the White House, a little 
 below Sewardstone. and having since been cleverly smuggled across the Lea, 
 was now fast melting in the crucibles of the sons of Abraham. 
 
 But the best-contrived plans occasionally miscarry, and Dick was fated not 
 to escape so easily as he had reckoned : — Success — 
 
 " the mark no mortal wit, 
 
 Or suri st hund can always hit; 
 
 For whatsoe'er we perpetrate, 
 
 We do but row, we're steer'd by fate, 
 
 Which in success oft disinherits 
 
 For spurious causes, greatest merits, — " • 
 
 was in this case to be purchased only by blood. 
 
 We have before mentioned the name of Mr. Thompson, the ranger of 
 
 .Epping Forest. He was certainly one of the most active, fearless, and efficient 
 of the many persons who engaged in the endeavour to apprehend Turpin and 
 his comrades. His intimate knowledge of the intricacies and the general fea- 
 tures of this extensive forest rendered him well calculated to direct the proper 
 measures for its thorough search, and he had already offered to direct a party 
 
 ' in the most certain way to discover the existence of the robbers' place of conceal- 
 ment, which was more than suspected to pxist somewhere within its boundaries. 
 This, however, had been declined by the dunderheaded justices of the peace, 
 in deference to the proposition of the old Colonel ; upon the principle that a civil 
 justice of the peace being a concentration of sagacity in civil affairs, a military 
 just-ass must be the quintessence of wisdom in matters where soldiers were 
 engaged. Mr. Thompson, therefore, though highly praised for his zeal, and 
 receiving- the bow of thanks from several large and thick powdered heads, 
 
 ■* Hudibras. 
 
216 DICK* TURPI N. 
 
 " in petty session assemble!*," was rejected, and left as an individual to pursue 
 his oivn measures ; one of the magistrates kindly informing him that the large 
 reward they had so liberally offered (out of the county rate) was "as open to 
 him as any one else." Mr. Thompson, who had been for some days engaged 
 in a narrow scrutiny of hedgerows, thickets, copses, and banks, throughout 
 the patches of forest in the northern hundreds, without success, had taken to 
 his councils one Sutton, a higler, who to his ostensible avocation of a hawker 
 of poultry, ailded a little dealing in game, (then a most dangerous calling.) 
 This man, from his mode of life, was of course well acquainted with the 
 country ; and Thompson had engaged him to explore the forest in the neigh- 
 bourhood, of Pinner's Hall, Copped Hall, and King's Oak, while he himself 
 examined the more western parts. The higler soon possessed himself of most 
 important information ; while lurking near a hedge in a bye lane he espied 
 Madge, who had ventured cautiously out, drawing water at a small spring, 
 concea'eil among the trees some hundreds of yards from their retreat. He watched 
 her as she dived into the thickest parts of the wood, and by dodging from tree to 
 tree, never entirely lost sight of her until she entered a thicket, when she 
 suddenly disappeared. 
 
 "Ho! ho!" said the higler to himself, as he stealthily crept towards the 
 spot, stopping ever and anon to listen, and cautiously avoiding the least rustle. 
 " I've found the place ! " A few straggling twigs of two hazel bushes lightly 
 crossing each other, and some dried leaves thrown loosely and carelessly on 
 the ground between them, without a sign of footmark on their top, gave no 
 token of the passage. 
 
 The higler shook his head and looked puzzled, as he glanced round with a 
 lurking fear of some ambuscade ; for the cunning as, well as courage of the 
 robbers had inspired a general terror. 
 
 " She certainly sneaked in here," said he. 
 
 He listened — all was silent ; he carefully raked aside a few of the leaves and 
 found beneath them the stems of a few kazels out ciose and level with the 
 earth. 
 
 " Ah ! ah !" said he ,' " I'm not the first' persoto as has been hereaways-, wild 
 •us the land looks. Here's a scent, and no mistake ; I'm a Dutchman, if she 
 han't some way of getting into the ground-'-flhe was a likely-looking wench 
 too, by gosh !" 
 
 He peeped among the bushes ; still keeping his posture on hands and knees, 
 and then crawled softly through ; a small path among the-low grass was tracable 
 by the practised eye, and following it round a small clump of underwood, 
 the higler beheld, the object of his search ; a large branch of a bare tree lay 
 before the aperture, and crawling to one end of it he saw si$ or seven descend- 
 ing steps cut from the clayey soil and covered with turf; at the bottom was a 
 small door smeared with clay ; the higler saw this, but farther investigation 
 he did not dare. He had found what he thought the entrance to the robbers' 
 den : but he had found one of them only, for this was merely the outlet, or sort of 
 postern, of which we have before spoken. The fellow delighted with his dis- 
 covery, crawled back, and no sooner did he reach the road, than full of joy he 
 posted off, as fast as his legs would carry him, in search of his employer. 
 
 Mr. Thompson was smoking a pipe at Godling Hall ; he had spent his 
 forenoon in riding, and was enjoying his Indian weed, after a hearty dinner, 
 when his M finder" arrived, breathless and blown, from his expedition. 
 
 " I've done 'em, MisterT hompson ; a's track'd 'em home : at least the vixen 
 
PICK TURP1N-. 
 
 217 
 
 Fielder apprehended by the London Thleft&kers. 
 
 fox, and a* dessay the dog ain't far off! Let I alone for dodging 'em ; it's a 
 poor scent as I can't lay on ; but I caught it breast high this morning.'* 
 
 " The devil you have : and where is it they kennel at last ?'' 
 
 " They don't kennel at all, I tell 'ee, they burrows : dang me if I ever see'd 
 a cunninger contrived thing in all my born days. But, mister, we musn't 
 scare the birds — we're as safe on 'em, sir, as thof I had 'em tied by the legi 
 in kipples." 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said Thompson, " will you, you silly fellow : don't 
 you see that wench has left the room to spread the news among the servants 
 that the robbers' den is found out. Confound your stupidity, you'll spoil all ; 
 run after the girl and send her here. You musn't whisper anything, even to 
 a brick wall, about these fellows, or they'll get hold of it and tip us the double 
 after all." 
 
 The girl was brought in, and having been properly cautioned by Mr. 
 Thompson to keep silent as to what had been just said, she promised obedi- 
 ence ; and performed her promise by communicating the whole, and rather 
 more than the whole, of what she had heard (always under a strict promise 
 of secresy ) to seven females and one male of her acquaintance ; each of them, 
 however, to her credit be it said, being persons in whose discretion she had 
 more confidence than in her own ; and they, good souls, proved 
 their title to such confidence by each circulating improved versions of the story ; 
 so that by nightfall every pothouse in Theydon, Debden, Loughton, and the 
 No. 28. 
 
218 DICK TUHPIN. 
 
 neighbourhood, had undeniable assurance lhat Sutton the higler had found the 
 robbers' cave ; that Mr. Thompson, with a troop of dragoons, had taken 
 Turpin and his gang, after a desperate fight ; and that the prisoners and 
 wounded had been seen by somebody — who had told somebody else, who had 
 told the narrator — passing through somewhere on their way to Chelmsford. 
 
 " And now," said Thompson, after his informant had made an end of a 
 minute though rather confused description of the features, natural and artificial, 
 of the entrance to the cave; " I think I can't do better — you're not afraid I 
 suppose to act as guide ? — than go and examine this cave myself. The eri/- 
 t ranee, if it be such as you describe it, can't lead to the plaice where they 
 stable their horses ; that they do that somewhere hereabouts is now plain 
 enough ; for the guards at Stratford and at Waltham, are sure that they do 
 not bring their horses from town, and I'm equally sure that they don't put 
 them up at any inn in these parts ; so we must find out more before we let 
 them know we have found out anything, else they'll give us the slip again. 
 Now, Sutton, as I won't put it off beyond to-night, delay's dangerous, you 
 and I will start for King's Oak. I'll leave my chaise there, and we'll go and 
 see what further is to be learnt." 
 
 In a few minutes they were on the road, and in an hour were crawling on 
 hands and knees among the thickets near Turpin's cave. 
 
 Stealthily, and with catdike caution, they crawled and listened, and crept 
 and crouched, as they threaded their devious way through the tangled under- 
 growth. At length they reached the spot where the former search of Sutton 
 had ended. Thompson scrutinised it long and closely. 
 
 " This is no go," whispered he to the higler in a tone of disappointment : 
 " it may be a lurking hole, but it can't be their stabling.'' 
 
 He looked carefully at the surrounding features of the place, and after some 
 study his face brightened, as he said — 
 
 " Well, well ; this is a glorious find, at any rate, Sutton; but there's more 
 yet to be learnt. I'm not quite certain, but I've some notion, that I've heard 
 hereabouts of a cave of some size, used many years agone by robbers; sure-ly 
 it's somewhat near hand. It's strange — though it's some years since to be 
 sure that I heard on't — that I shouldn't have thought of this place before. 
 Let me see. Do you know the ground well hereabout, Sutton ?" 
 
 " Can't say as I do,'' replied the higler ; " but if so be as they've another 
 pTace beside this here, I'll pound it, it arn't a longways off. She wor as nice 
 a wench as you'd wish to ha' seen, as slipt in at that little — " 
 
 The ranger grasped the whisperer by the arm, as a signal for silence ; a 
 slight noise was heard, as of the withdrawing of a bolt, and the two men, 
 retreating on all fours into the bushes, hid themselves in breathless apprehen- 
 sion in the friendly covert. The door opened, and they had scarcely ended 
 nestling and settling down in their concealment, when a man, in a countryman's 
 dress, emerged from the hole. After looking cautiously round, he passed 
 through the bushes ; on reaching the outlet between the hazels before-men- 
 tioned, he made a long and anxious pause, and they could imperfectly see, 
 by peeping between the stems about their place of concealment, that he was 
 engaged in a close examination of the spot. Something had certainly attracted 
 his attention, and they watched his movements with eager anxiety and palpi- 
 tating hearts. They felt assured that, though they might succeed in slaying 
 the man before them, yet within call were several, they knew not how many 
 desperadoes, (fur report had exaggerated their number,) whose only chance 
 
DICK TURPIN! 210 
 
 •of safety would lie in the sacrifice of their lives, and who, they doubted not, 
 would swarm forth from their hive on the first alarm of a shot. The man 
 continued for a minute or more, to them an hour, to linger about the place ; 
 at last, after throwing the twigs into their usual disorder, and sprinkling some 
 loose leaves on the spot of his egress, he walked hastily oft'. Thompson drew 
 near his companion. 
 
 ** We'll take that fellow, if he gives us a chance," said he ; " he's ours ; 
 but we must let him get a little further off the den. Hark ! do you hear his 
 footsteps ? I don't." 
 
 " No," said the higler, who had been laying his ear near the ground ; " I'll 
 get up and take a peep." 
 
 The man rose to his feet, and peered through the upper twigs of the bushes. 
 
 " 1 don't see aught on him," said he. 
 
 " It'll never do to stay here, Sutton," said Thompson ; " I'll tell you how 
 we'll contrive it, as soon as we're out of this. We'll have 'em, never fear." 
 
 They crept along till they came to a pathway through the wood. 
 
 "I'll tell'ee what," said ihe higler, looking carefully on the ground as they 
 walked slowly along ; " here's a hoss bin this a-way, and not long since 
 neither;'' and he fell on his hands and knees and peered knowinglv along 
 the pathway. The marks of horses' hoofs were here and there visible. 
 
 " There's a strong stile at the end of this, Sutton," said the ranger, musing ; 
 "and the only other way to get in is by the three posts, opposite the Bell. 
 By Jove, this is queer ; no horses — and if ever horse was shod, that's the 
 print of a shoe, ay, and there's the calkins — ever could come this wav, 
 unless — " 
 
 " Look here, look here," whispered Sutton, beckoning his master, who was 
 carefully tracing the footmarks; " one, two, three, four; and this is another, 
 foot, for it's broader in the bar, and not so round as t'other. One, two, three, 
 four, you sees : and here, under this big oak, they walks over the hard soil 
 into the wood." 
 
 They passed a piece of loose gravelly ground, beneath an oak, and " walked 
 as though they trod on eggs," until, after threading the labyrinthine windings 
 described in our first notice of the cave, and discovering at every step fresh 
 proof that they had hit the right track, they came to the small open space, 
 before what might be called the entrance to the covered way which led to the 
 mysterious retreat, of bold Dick Turpin. 
 
 While peeping from the bushes, before venturing to cross this small lawn, 
 a stealthy step caught their ear, and the man they had before seen, after 
 putting aside a bough or two, appeared from the opposite side of the area. The 
 fact was, that Dick had discovered the passage of the two men, who were 
 ignorant of the precautions used by the gang ; and knowing that Madge had 
 lately left the place and returned, he attributed the appearances to her neglect, 
 and was now making his way back to the principal entrance, to caution her 
 to be more guarded. 
 
 " We're between him and his den," said Thompson ; " he's coming this 
 way; he'll discover us: let's put a bold face on't, and seize him." 
 
 During the whole time Thompson had kept his gun slung at his back ; he now 
 unstrapped it, and stepping out of the thicket, advanced towards Turpin. The 
 latter had seen Thompson before, when in disguise. He knew him ; he ap- 
 proaching him with readiness, in an off-hand manner enquired if he win 
 looking for rabbits? The ranger replied ii, the affirmative. 
 
220 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " I shouldn't think this a likely place," remarked Dick, with studied care- 
 lessness; for he strongly suspected the ranger's object. ** Have you found 
 any ? " 
 
 "No !" said the ranger; "but — " and he caught at Turpin's collar, "I've 
 found a Turpin!" 
 
 He had found him it's true, but it was another thing to keep him ; for the 
 act of extending his arm exposed his side, in which Dick dealt him so severe 
 and bursting a blow as sent him, though a strong man, reeling, with his 
 mouth open, gasping for breath ; and the higler at that moment showing 
 himself, Dick, with one active bound, dashed into the wood. The first act of 
 the ranger was to put his hand to his side : he was a bulky man, and so 
 severe was the blow that he feared he was stabbed. He drew a long and 
 painful breath and gasped out, " Why--didn't— you-seize him, Sutton ?"' for 
 not doing which the higler gave a most satisfactory reason — "'cause he 
 couldn't." Meantime, Dick hastily entered the cave, and seizing a carbine which 
 hung against the wall, exclaimed, "We're hunted to earth, Madge!" and 
 rushed out. She followed. The two men yet stood in the small open space, 
 and at this moment, the ranger, spying Dick's hat or Madge's cap move 
 among the bushes, in his haste and excitement inconsiderately raised his gun 
 to his shoulder and fired. The smoke curled among the bushes, the swan- 
 shot rattled, and the next moment Dick appeared at the opening. Thompson, 
 holding his gun by the barrel, rushed towards him; Turpin raised his carbine, 
 the trigger moved, and the whole charge entered the breast of the unhappy 
 ranger. One short cry, a heavy groan, and the murdered man lay on the 
 turf before them. The higler, who was only armed with a stick, no sooner 
 saw the fall of his master, than he sought safety in a hasty flight. Turpin 
 looked at the face of the dying man. 
 
 " Bring him some water," said he, in a hoarse voice. "He sought it — I 
 did it not — it was self defence. 
 
 Thus does villany of the blackest dye ever seek to excuse to itself the 
 consequences of its own previous crimes — not considering, or caring to remem- 
 ber, that it is the small crime which leads to the greater, and that when man 
 once transgresses the eternal principles of right and wrong, — once commits 
 those great offences, which all nations, times, climes, and creeds have accounted 
 crimes against society, he has lost the power of self-controul, and can never 
 say to himself, " thus far will I sin, but no further ; " a countless scorpion 
 progeny of sins rise hell-engendered from his first great crime. 
 
 Turpin, it is true, regretted the stern necessity, for such he tried to persuade 
 himself it was, which had compelled him to this deed of blood ; and almost 
 argued himself into justifying the slaying of a fellow creature who was engaged in 
 the performance of a duty he owed no less to the community than .himself — 
 namely, the enforcement of those laws without which might must dis- 
 place right, strength supersede justice, peace and order lie strangled amid 
 anarchy, bloodshed, and confusion, and the sic vulu sic jubeo of powerful 
 tyranny stand for the peaceful supremacy of that social law of which Hooker 
 has truly said, "The public power of all societies must ever be above every 
 soul contained in them; and the principal use of that general power is to 
 give laws unto all that live under it : which law it is the duty of each and 
 every to obey and enforce ; * * * because, except our own private and 
 but opinionable resolutions be by the law of public determination overruled, 
 we take away all possibility of sociable life in the world." * * Then, with a burst 
 
DICK TURPI*. 231 
 
 of eloquence which even the quaintness of the old philosopher's scholastic 
 style cannot obscure, he declares, with a sublimity only exceeded by its truth, 
 "that we may briefly add; of law, [order] there can be no less acknowledged 
 than that her seat is the bosom of God ; her voice the harmony of the 
 world : all things in heaven and earth do her homage ; the very least as 
 feeling her care, the greatest as not exempted from her power: creatures of 
 what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with 
 uniform consent, adoring her as the mother of their peace and joy.*" 
 
 " What ! " exclaims the reader, "you are * at your old lunes again? * Twice 
 have you apologised for these digressions. Though you mayn't be aware of 
 it, I can assure you that these ' unutterable ponderings' are anything but 
 amusing, and if they be instructive all I can say is, that they are confoundedly 
 misplaced ; nay, I consider them a fraud, although perhaps a pious one, a 
 sort of sermonising clap-trap, which the readers of the life of a bold highway- 
 man never calculated on purchasing, and therefore a foisting off of morality 
 under false pretences." Such was, in effect, the criticism, as he called it, of a 
 "kind friend;" and though I shall, perhaps, if I like it, take his advice and 
 eschew these vagaries, I won't beg pardon where I believe myself right : yet 
 as a book must consult the taste of its readers, or it will not sell ; and if it 
 don't sell can be of no earthly use, either to public, printer, or author; I'll 
 'hold a candle to the devil,' waive digression, though it be the only part of 
 my book worth reading, and as Jonathan has it, "go ahead." 
 
 Short time for tarrying now remained for Turpin. This last and deadly 
 encounter had entirely destroyed his plans. There had been a witness to 
 the shedding of the blood which was now sinking into the thirsty earth of 
 the cave — for thither they had dragged the body — and there could be no 
 doubt that an hour or two would bring its avengers with a force that must 
 look down resistance. It was by this time long past noon, and the short 
 twilight was fast coming on. 
 
 "We must take time by the forelock, Madge," said Turpin, endeavouring 
 by an assumed cheerfulness of tone to shake off the depressing sense of blood- 
 guiltiness, and actively knocking about everything at hand, though apparently 
 with no fixed purpose ; Madge's feelings were of another and more selfish 
 class ; the fear of caption was uppermost in her mind. 
 
 "Oh, for mercy's sake, Dick," said she, looking on the corpse, " let's get 
 away from this place; they'll be here presently, sogers and all. Oh, if you 
 don't leave this place directly, I shall — " 
 
 " Do what?" said Dick, endeavouring to force both a joke and a smile. 
 Madge was silent. 
 
 "I shan't stay here any longer than I can help, I promise you," said he. 
 "We must leave a good many things behind, Madge; this will be aboltingthe 
 moon sort o' job at last ; the cart is at the Grange, and I can't get it at a 
 moment's notice. I have it," said he, suddenly. "Get your basket and 
 disguise, that beaver slouch I mean, the bright kerchief, linsey petticoat, 
 and the rest — ruddle your face, my Madge, a little,'' and he tried a laugh; 
 " come, be brisk about it, or else I shall — run away, as I suppose you were 
 going to threaten just now.'' 
 
 Madge, who had the highest admiration for, and confidence in Turpin, 
 smiled in her turn, and sought, by active exertion, to shuke off the suffocating 
 
 * Eccl. Pol. book I, Bee. 16, ad Jin. 
 
233 DICK TUHPIN. 
 
 load she felt weighing on her chest. They were soon prepared, and Dick, after 
 leading his horse nearly two miles by the most unfrequented paths, was joined by 
 Madge in a by-lane, who mounted a pillion behind him, a mode of travelling 
 then so common as not to draw the attention which even a common chaise 
 cart would excite. 
 
 *• Light thickened, 
 
 And the crow made wing to the dusky wood," 
 
 as Turpin and Madge struck into a seldom-travelled by-way. For the thorough 
 knowledge which Dick possessed of the country enabled him to avoid the high 
 road, now unsafe for his travelling, as the Teader will be at no loss to con- 
 clude. 
 
 They rode on their silent way ; the fears of Madge pressed with leaden 
 weight upon her spirits, and forbad much speech, while the thoughts of Turpin 
 were turned to the mistakes and misadventures to which this precipitate flight 
 might give rise. 
 
 " Madge," said Dick, " why you're mute as a fish. They say women are 
 shrewd at a difficulty — so let's have your advice, girl. George and Havnes 
 will be at King's Oak to-night or to-morrow ; and I've more than a guess 
 they mav light on other visitors besides friends. Now T should never forgive 
 myself for betraying a pal, still less such a one as Fielder — how's it to be 
 done ; how can we give him the office, Madge ? I can't say I just now see ; 
 do you ?" 
 
 " We musn't stay in this quarter, anyhow," replied the woman ; " and if 
 he is to be taken, why he is. I'd be sorry to hear of any ill-luck happening 
 to George, but it can't do him no good for others to suffer as can't help him 
 out o' the hobble. Besides, we can help him best when we're t'other side 
 the Lea, 'cause there's no dragoons on the roads there ; and belike he hasn't 
 left London, and if so, we can give him warning not to go to the Oak — 
 eh?" 
 
 These arguments, backed by Dick's wish to believe in their cogency, silenced 
 his scruples. Now and again they stopped to listen, as the formation of the 
 country reverberated from some rising ground their horse's footfall, and 
 bringing to the ear the echoing sounds, told of some other horseman near 
 them. At each such sound they halted ; until satisfied that nune but them- 
 selves travelled that road, they resumed their way, grateful, with Nature's poet, 
 that 
 
 " Dark night, which from the pye its function takes, 
 The cat more quick of apprehension makes, 
 And where it doth impair the seeing sense, 
 Still pays the hearing double recompense." 
 
 Thus they journeyed until the tower of the church at Nazing greeted their 
 eyes, for now the night had changed its features, and the friendly darkness, 
 which had hitherto hung its thick clouds over them, was exchanged for the, 
 to them, dangerous glitter of starlight. The glorious expanse above brought 
 no pleasure to their eyes — crime and the beauties of Nature have no sym- 
 pathy : — 
 
 •* The floor of heaven 
 
 All thick inlaid wilh patincR of bright gold," 
 
 was inwardly cursed by their guilty minds, with the impiety, but not the 
 sublimity, of Milton's fallen angel. 
 
i:i( K TUKPW. 223 
 
 " It won't do to pass the bridge by this light," said Dick, in a tono of vexation, 
 as they stood in the shade of a large tree, in a lane some fifty or sixty yards 
 from the main road leading to the bridge. " Madge, cau you hold on ? we'll 
 go up beyond the marsh and ford the river." 
 
 " Oh, anything," replied she, " to be out of the reach of those dreadful 
 fellows. I'll trust to you — I'll not be afeerd. Hark !" said she, her hearing 
 sharpened by her fears. 
 
 The heavy trot and iron rattle of a horse-soldier was heard : the relief- 
 challenge at the bridge was followed by the hasty walk of a couple of horses 
 down the road, and the laugh and talk of the fellows who were riding oft" to 
 their quarters. 
 
 " It's all up there," said Dick, with a smile at Madge, and chucking her 
 under the chin ; " that's our friends, did you hear 'em?'' 
 
 " Oh yes," said the frightened woman, in whom fear had absorbed all other 
 feelings : " pray put me down here, and leave me to make my escape myself, 
 if you're going to face those men. Don't, pray — you'll be shot; and then — " 
 and she finished her incoherent, speech with some suppressed sobs and a flood 
 of genuine tears — poured out chiefly for her own situation, and partly at the 
 thought of the dreadful scene she had conjured up. 
 
 " Why, you don't think me such a d — d fool as to throw myself in the 
 way of those fellows' carbines, and with a woman at my back too, do you ? * 
 said Turpin. "No; no! you shall see though. You're nearer 'em now than 
 you ever shall be again ; at least with my consent. Holdfast!" and Dick 
 walked his horse slowly down the lane they came up, increasing at each step 
 the distance between themselves and the high road. 
 
 He now dismounted, and led the animal cautiously beneath the shade of 
 hedgerows ; these, however, were soon exchanged for willow, pollards, patches 
 of reedy grass, and the usual accompaniments of a wet heavy soil. The beaten 
 way disappeared. The river bank, or rather the shelving shoaly side of the 
 stream was gained ; and after a cautious inspection, both up and down the 
 open space on which they were about to expose themselves, he led the steed 
 into the gravelly bed. There was a sharp stream running, but the place for 
 fording had been well chosen; the current there being broad and shallow, 
 rippled over its natural bed unconfined by artificial embankments. They 
 passed, unmolested and unobserved, to the Hertfordshire bank, and continued 
 their journey, 
 
 " Till, like n lobster boiled, the morn, 
 From black lo red began to turn ; " 
 
 viewing which beauteous sight we shall leave them, to look after the fortune*, 
 or misfortunes, of George Fielder. 
 
 We have before mentioned that Fielder was in London, turning into 
 current coin the plate and jewels of Justice Asher ; this he had done with 
 considerable success, and with replenished purse was now making hi3 way 
 towards King's Oak. The high road by Stratford he knew to be carefully 
 guarded, and accordingly he and his companion, Roger Haynes, separated, 
 and singly made good their return into Essex on the very day of the death 
 of the unfortunate Mr. Thompson. Fearing communication with even the 
 casual passengers, they shunned the highways, and phingi.ig into the more 
 wooded parts of the country, made the best of their way towards King's Oak, 
 the neighbourhood of which thev reached at nightfall. The whole country 
 
224 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 was alive ; and they were not a little alarmed at finding tha soldiery were 
 hastening in all directions along the roads in the neighbourhood. After 
 lurking a while, Fielder resolved on leaving Roger, and venturing to mix 
 among a group of countrymen whom he saw in deep talk before the 
 public house at Sewardstone. Here he learnt the just discovered murder of 
 Thompson, the arrival of the soldiery, and the ransacking of the cave ; of 
 which one of the fellows was giving such a description to his companions as 
 left no doubt on his mind that all was over ; he was, however, gratified at 
 hearing that Dick and Madge were not as yet taken — 
 
 "Though," said the bumpkin, who was retailing these wonders, "they 
 won't be long afore they has 'em. Cos d'ye see the sogers is everywhere 
 arter 'em ; and if so be they hasn't dealings wi' the ould gentleman — and 
 some do say as Captain Turpin have sold hisself to 'un, to have his own way 
 for ten year — they'll be hung up to dry, the whole on 'em, herring fashion ; 
 and I'll make one to see 'em.'' 
 
 Fielder slipped away from the group unobserved, and hastening back to 
 Haynes, communicated the unlucky tidings. They divided the cash between 
 . them, and at once began their flight. 
 
 Haynes was lucky enough to pass the river unobserved, but not'so Fielder. 
 His travels in town had come to the knowledge of some of the officers of police, 
 to whom the Jew receivers, on condition of being left unmolested, had given 
 not only a portion, in the shape of cash, of their illgotten wealth, but had 
 "split" upon the robbers ; and upon condition of not being implicated in any 
 disclosures which might ensue, they 'planted' their « goot friends' the thief- 
 takers on the very men whom they had just victimised " shent per shent/' in 
 what these most detestable of thieves termed the " way of bishness.*' 
 
 This affair was thus managed : the officers who had got scent of the where- 
 abouts of Fielder, received the hush-money ; and then, without disclosing 
 the receivers whom they had detected, put a brother officer in the way of doing 
 what they could not do without danger of compromising themselvps ; thus 
 effecting the apprehension of the felons, and obtaining the reward ; of course 
 stipulating for their " regulars," as they termed their share of the " blood- 
 money." In consequence of this information, two expert London thieftakers 
 had tracked the two robbers from London, and were now " beating the bush," 
 in conjunction with some soldiers, in the neighbourhood of the spot where 
 Fielder and Haynes had a few hours before passed the Lea. George, to whom 
 the country was imperfectly known, had decided on returning over the border, 
 at the spot where he had entered Essex, and this proved his destruction. He 
 had made his way in safety, just as day was breaking, to the bridge, without 
 meeting a living creature ; and confident in his disguise, was jogging along 
 the road, when he was accosted by a man, whom he well knew as a London 
 officer. The man having courteously addressed him, they walked together a 
 few yards ; and Fielder was just contriving a bold push for an escape, when 
 another man sprung from the hedge-row on the opposite side, and the two 
 simultaneously seized him. A whistle was given, and from the bridge foot, 
 where they lay in ambush, three guards with their corporal appeared. 
 
 " Here's the leftenant, lads !" cried the thieftaker. 
 
 The man pointed their pieces at Fielder, and the handcuffs were immedi- 
 ately slipped on. 
 
 " Your captain's not far off, I suppose P observed the ' trap' with a "grin ; 
 " so we'll make you safe, and see if we can't find you some company in your 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 325 
 
 The Golden Lion at Boston. Mr. Newtori tii-. tiorsettaa'.er. 
 
 new lodgings. Artful dodge, though — and werry nice you did it at the price. 
 We.l, well," continued the officer, as he locked the handcuffs, "we has all our 
 time when we're cotched a napping ; p'raps it wouldn't lie the worse for you, 
 if .so be you was to do a little splitter;/ — summut in the nosing way I means; 
 cos, d'ye see, if so be we could wind up this mornin's job by grabbing the 
 Captain — you needn't try to look hinnocent, you knows well enow who I 
 means. Come, come," added he in a confident coaxing tone ; " do the ready 
 thing, and I'll guv you a lift before the beaks as 'nil save your squeeze. Eh, 
 vot — you're crusty, are yer ? If there's any hoath among ye — as I knows 
 you're a plucky one, Georgy, as 'ull try to do the thing that's right by a pal — 
 vy, you can give us the ticket and sarve yerself, without saying — " 
 
 " It's your turn, Mr. Johnson," replied Fielder, whom not even the peril of 
 his position could cast down; "but save your breath to cool your porridge, 
 my boy ; you'll get nothing out of me, 'xcept this — that ' the Captain,' as you 
 call him, is more lucky than me, for he's out o' your reach, as I wish I was. 
 Why the dickens," continued he, (looking towards the soldiers, who still stood 
 with military preciseness, with pieces at the " present,") — why don't yon drop 
 those 'fire-irons?' They're ugly playthings, and enough to make a fellow 
 nervous. (The corporal gave the word, and the men " recovered.") Ay, now 
 you do look a little less dangerous. Come, Billy Johnson, just walk, us oft' some 
 where : here's a house, and I'll stand a drop, for I'm cursed thirsty" 
 
 " I shall jist help myself for that matter," replied Johnson. '• So, you 
 ■ No. 29. * 
 
226 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 won't say nothing about your Captain — well, it 'ull be worse for you. Cor- 
 poral, leave your men here ; there's two more on 'em on the lurk somewhere; 
 and Sam, you stay -with the sogers, while I, and the corporal, and Mr. Fielder, 
 a* he says he's thirsty, just take a rosin.* " 
 
 The officer looked closely at the handcuffs, passed the prisoner's handker- 
 chief behind his back, and before his elbows, and having thus secured him, 
 they walked a few yards to the public house at the foot of the bridge. Here, 
 over the glass, a long conversation took place in which Johnson vainly en- 
 deavoured, by various allurements and promises, to draw from George 
 Sirnie clue to the whereabouts of Dick; and strongly urged, now that 
 all was up with Turpin, who, he said, would not long escape, that Fielder 
 should make his peace with the law by furnishing him with the information, 
 necessary to his capture. To all these fine promises, however, George turned 
 a deaf ear ; and at last the thieftaker, finding all his rhetoric in vain, lost his 
 temper, and threw off his feigned civility. 
 
 *' This here will all fall on your own head, I tell you." said he, angrily. 
 <x It's the captain as the justices most wants, and you might get off, if so be 
 you worn't so precious headstrong. But it's no use talking ; I've tried to 
 stand your friend, but you won't let me, — so, Mister Corporal, with your as- 
 sistance, I'll sarch the prisoner." 
 
 The rummaging of Fielder's pockets, his hat, his boots, &c, was soon 
 completed ; but nothing more than a few shillings was found. 
 
 Bill Johnson looked blank. Again and again he passed his hands over the 
 highwayman's person, no money was there. The disappointment sadly 
 ruffled his equanimity — Fielder jeeringly said, 
 
 " What would you give, now, to recover some of the rhino that has made 
 you so 'cute in this business, Billy my boy, eh ?" 
 The officer raised his hand. 
 
 " Don't strike a man as can't perfect himself, yer cowardly feller," said 
 the soldier interposing, " fair play's a Hinglishman's motto ; and I von't see 
 him ill used." 
 
 Ill-humour at the grievous disappointment of missing the rich boo*y he had 
 puch certain intelligence of, inclined the officer to be quarrelsome, and he turned 
 angrily on the soldier. He was a blunt fellow; and as Bill Johnson looked 
 at his open face and broad athletic shoulders, and his unshrinking thoi.gh 
 good-natured, careless look of defiance, he felt his courage, like Bob Acres', 
 "oozing out at his fingers' ends." 
 
 Johnson offered his hand, which the soldier accepted. 
 
 " It can't be far off," said the latter ; " and if there bees all the gould as you 
 talked on this morning, afore we lighted on this here gentleman, why it can't be 
 stowed in a snuff-box nor the bowl of a 'bacca-pipe. P'raps, as fair words does 
 more than foul — leastways, they al'ays does with me — this here gemman, as 
 so much ready can't be of no manner of use to him, will put us in the way of 
 getting hold on it, without the trouble of sarching for it — provising we tips 
 him his fair whack on it, and divides it reg'lar Yorkshire.'' 
 
 This did not at all suit Mr. Johnson's notions of justice; he estimated 
 highly his own professional skill, and had never calculated on more than a 
 guinea as the share of the redcoat ; and as to " your paying back," Falstaff 
 did not "hate" it more fervently; he therefore exclaimed — 
 
 » Wet. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 227 
 
 "Vot, give a third of vot I've yarned by my skill and gumption to you, and 
 another large vack to this here sulky tell-nothing varmint ; veil, I'm jiggered, 
 mister lobster, if I can make a guess vere you vos dragged up : I thinks you 
 vasn't behind the door ven ' cheek' vos sarved out, or you vouldn't go for to 
 propose to a Lunnon hofficer to guv up his perquisites, and divide reg'lars 
 with a redherring and a limebird* as — " 
 
 Fielder saw, with a pleased eye, that the reflections on his profession, and 
 the nicknames which the vexed Mr. Johnson had made use of, brought the 
 blood into the soldier's face. However, the man seemed to suppress his in- 
 dignation, and twisting up a piece of a printed bill, he lighted it at the fire- 
 place, and to the no small vexation of the prisoner, waved it beneath the table 
 at which they had just been sitting. It will be necessary to apprise the 
 reader, that Fielder had suspended the bag of guineas round his neck by a 
 string of sufficient length to allow the bag to hang below the tight waistband 
 of his unmentionables — at that day worn by all classes without braces ; that while 
 seated in the corner, he had contrived, by leaning against the table, to stretch 
 the slight cord to breaking, and cunningly and quietly letting the bag gra- 
 dually down to the ground, between the calves and ankles of his legs, had 
 silently driven it with his foot into a dark corner under the settle. . 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" cried the searcher, jocosely, as he caught sight of the precious 
 deposit: "finding's keepings!" and thrusting his rattan into the corner, he 
 struck the bag, which gave forth the dull but most musical chink of gold. 
 The eye of Mr. Bill Johnson had sulkily followed the movements of the 
 soldier ; he saw the bag, and heard the sound and the exclamation of the finder, 
 who was preparing to drop on hands and knees to crawl under the table. 
 
 " 'Vast, there," said the greedy thieftaker ; and he seized the soldier by the 
 shoulder to thrust himself before him. The feilow, gathering from what had 
 jusl dropped from the officer, that his share of the gold was likely to be but 
 small, if he trusted to his generosity, caught Mister Johnson by the leg, and 
 dropped him on his broadest end. Fielder watched the movement with a 
 smile ; and at the instant Mr. Johnson's seat touched the floor, he sprung 
 through the open doorway, ran through the long passage to the back yard, 
 and made the best of his way across the fields at the back of the house. The 
 corporal jumped first to his feet, and following close, kept him in sight, as he 
 put his best leg foremost in pursuit ; and Bill Johnson, shouting at the top 
 of his voice " Stop thief! " followed hard in his wake. 
 
 " Hoy, halloo !" shouted two or three early labourers who were mending 
 the road near the river side, and with picks and spades they joined in the 
 pursuit. 
 
 The soldiers and constables on the bridge heard the cry, but little guessed 
 its cause, till hastening on to the wooden structure, they saw their late prisoner, 
 at " topping speed" heading " the chase,'" as a turn of the road brought him 
 in view: but he was too far off for a shot, and in a few seconds more thevsaw 
 their corporal, who was a young and active man, followed closely by Johnson, 
 struggling in pursuit. They hastened to the road, down which the fugitive 
 and his pursuers were holding their headlong course. 
 
 The shackled condition of Fielder was sadly against his chances of escape. 
 He could not, with his bound hands, venture on a cross-country dash ; stile or 
 fence must be his destruction ; swimming the river, too, was out of the question , 
 
 " Prisoner. 
 
3QS DICK TURPIN. 
 
 we have said before that he knew but little of the country, yet his speed and 
 wind were good, and the thought struck him that if he could find the ford bv 
 which he and Roger had passed, and which could not be far ofT, he had yet a 
 chance left. A bend in the road which followed the windings of the river, now 
 placed him out of the immediate view of his pursuers, whose cries and footsteps 
 were, however, much too near to be pleasant. Fielder nevertheless felt that he had 
 scarcely, if at all, increased the distance between himself and the corporal 
 who was an active young fellow, and had considerably headed the rest of the 
 party. 
 
 " I shan't be able to hold this out long," thought he ; " and I'm just now 
 running without a chance, for I shall surely meet somebody presently, and I 
 shall be stopped and retaken. Huzza — !" cried he internally, as another bend 
 of the way showed him the very white house by the ford, which he before had 
 noted. Hope gave him fresh speed ; he laid out, and pressing his arms with 
 all his strength forward and against his sides, the handkerchief tore at the 
 knot, and with one more violent wrench the shackle of his handcuff gave way. 
 He had not yet reached the fording place by some yards, but an exclamation 
 of delight escaped his lips as he hastily and imprudently leaped from the bank : 
 it was very suddenly and unpleasantly checked by finding himself, head 
 and all under water — he struggled and rose — but the precious moment and 
 equally precious spot had been missed. He had leaped into the well of a fish 
 preserve and his staggering feet were hardly assured of ground beneath them, 
 when his pursuers appeared within twenty yards of him : it was his last effort 
 — fortune and activity might yet befriend him. 
 
 George's courage did not forsake him : on came the corporal, armed only 
 with his cane, and quick as thought plunged in. He was, however, no 
 swimmer, and George was now in midstream; he was confoundedly puzzled, 
 nevertheless, at not finding the shoal water he expected, and affairs looked 
 very serious when Mr. Johnson walked rapidly into the river without sinking 
 deeper than his knees, by judiciously entering some half dozen yards lower down : 
 what made it worse too, was, that he was fast coming, in an oblique direction, 
 towards the spot where Fielder was now struggling up a steepish bank into 
 shallow water. The three were now within a few yards of each other — Fielder 
 in the middle, Johnson below, and the soldier some little distance higher up. 
 The bloodhound of the law was now close to his prey; in his right hand he 
 grasped a pistol, in the left he clutched the bag of gold, which, throughout the 
 chase, he had held with characteristic pertinacity. Towards him, as the 
 most pressing; danger, and the man whose pursuit he most feared, Fielder 
 boldly advanced. 
 
 H Surrender, George, or I fire !" cried Johnson, with levelled pistol. 
 
 " I do," gasped Fielder, with dissembled exhaustion, sinking on his knees 
 in the water, with a pretended stumble. It was cleverly done. George 
 ducked his head as his face neared the surface, caught the thieftaker's 
 legs beneath the water, and he fell, discharging his pistol in the air. 
 Gentle reader, did you ever try a tumble in three-foot water ? If not, do it, and 
 see how awkward you'll find it to regain your legs. Moreover, imagine the addi- 
 tional awkwardness of receiving at the same time a blow on the head, with right 
 good will, from a strong and desperate fellow—the said whack being rendered em- 
 phatic by the accompaniment of a heavy handcuff — and you will see good and 
 sufficient reason why Mr. Bill Johnson did not pick himself up very quickly. 
 Fielder turned — he was yet far from safe : — one look at the soldier who was 
 
. DICK TURPIN. 229 
 
 elose to him — a rush — and he disappeared below the surface into a deeper 
 part. The red coat tried to stand still, but he was up to his armpits, and 
 tae stream refused him foothold. He looked around him as he walked with 
 the current, and turning his face up the stream endeavoured to hold his ground, 
 for he felt sure that it was up and against it that the fugitive had gone. At 
 this moment George's head appeared for a moment, as he drew breath, 
 some three yards off; the corporal made towards it. The soldiers had now 
 come up. 
 
 " Present, lads ! " cried the corporal, " and shoot him if you see him.'' 
 
 A few seconds and again the head of George appeared, this time close to the 
 opposite shore, and near to a steep bank. The three men caught sight of it — the 
 levelled tubes swept slowly towards the point, the priming hissed, the bullets 
 whizzed to their destination, and the rattling explosion of the muskets struck 
 on the ear, mingled with the short bubbling death-cry of George Fielder, 
 as his shattered head sunk beneath the waters. All the balls had struck 
 him ; two, with deadly precision, tore through the brain, and the third struck 
 his spine, just below the base of the skull. His death was merciful and in- 
 stantaneous. 
 
 " He's done for, lads ! " said the corporal, with professional coolness, as he 
 watched the death-spring and the struggling sink of the highwayman. The 
 body soon rose, and was drawn ashore and laid on the bank with the same 
 pleasant smile which had curled round the lips in life. The peculiar relax- 
 ation which marks a death by gunshot wound may not be known to the reader ; 
 unlike most other modes of violent death, the victim's countenance assumes a 
 placid tranquillity ; every passion seems at rest, and the face, if of pleasant ex- 
 pression during life, seems as of one who dreams happily — and such was the 
 countenance of George Fielder. 
 
 It may be guessed that such an unusual noise as the nearly simultaneous 
 discharge of three muskets at so early an hour, not only " awoke the echoes," 
 as the poets have it, but aroused the inhabitants of the " thereabouts.'' In 
 a very short time, some dozen or two assembled. Mr. Johnson was dragged sense- 
 less from the river, with his nose and one eye dreadfully damaged, and minus 
 his darling money bag, which, strange to say, could never be found ; while the 
 body of poor George, with the head weighing some two ounces heavier than 
 at any former period, was conveyed to the nearest alehouse, there to await 
 the crowner's quest. 
 
 Poor fellow, he deserved a happier fate — the creature of impulse, the sport 
 of circumstances ; education — the first duty of every government deserving of 
 the name — did little for him; his birth in a civilised community still less; 
 and example, more powerful than precept, had, in his case, done worse than 
 nothing : his crimes were great, his redeeming qualities many; and had not 
 others neglected their duty, who are overpaid as public teachers, a few words 
 in season, and a few moral lessons, might have made the reckless highwayman 
 a valuable member of the social community, which first neglected, then corrupted 
 him, and at last shed his blood for outraging the laws it had never taken one 
 step to teach him to respect or to observe. 
 
MO DICK TURPIN 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The last's a serious chapter — but 'tis not 
 
 My cue for any time to be terrific ; 
 
 For chequer'd as is seen our human lot 
 
 With good, and bad, and worse : alike prolific 
 
 Of melancholy merriment, to quote 
 
 Too much of one sort would be soporific : 
 
 Withour, or with, offence to friends or foes, 
 
 I sketch your world exactly as it goes. 
 
 Our hero and his companion reached the rendezvous on the Rhee, men- 
 tioned in the last chapter, without question or adventure, where they were 
 oined by King. The following night brought Roger Haynes. He related 
 to them the circumstances of his escape, and the particulars of his separation 
 from Fielder. The next day and night passed, and the party grew anxious at 
 his protracted absence : Roger Haynes volunteered to seek if any hap-hazard 
 information might be procured on the road to Broxbourne, and returned in a 
 few hours with the lamentable particulars of his death. 
 
 The news threw a shade over the party ; the flow of King's cheerfulness 
 was checked : and the thoughts of Dick reverted to his first adventure, anc 
 the few though chequered years of crime which had flown by since the plea- 
 sant comrade, now a stark corse in the hands of his enemies, presented 
 him with the black colt now matured into his noble Bess. He thought too 
 of his hearty good temper, his boldness, his truth, his merriment, — and, to 
 his comrades, his honesty. 
 
 " He was the first," said Dick, shaking off his feelings with an effort, " with 
 whom 1 took a purse — and damme, Tom, if he shan't be the last." 
 
 King stared. 
 
 " I've a few shiners, Tom, and I'll turn to another account what motherwit 
 I have. I'll betake myself to Lincolnshire — quit the road and its dangerous 
 pastimes, and turn honest man. What's to prevent me ? " 
 
 " That you are Dick Turpin," replied Tom. " Stab me, if you're not com- 
 ing it conventicle fashion, friend Dickon; turn honest man — ha! ha! why 
 your best friend could not wish an honester fellow than you are already — 
 what the devil's come across you — eh? Show me the fellow who dares say 
 Dick Turpin's not honest, and I'll give him no chance to repeat the lie. Cheer 
 up, Dick, old fellow — poor George has escaped a higher and drier death ; one 
 that would have been more tedious and painful, yet as unavoidable as the 
 unlucky shot which cut short his joys and troubles." 
 
 " I'd give something more than thanks for your spirits ; but jesting don't 
 always suit me, Tom, (and he offered his hand to his comrade.) This is no 
 new thing ; I've thought long and seriously since that unlucky shot of mine at 
 King's Oak — and so, if you are determined to keep the road, or rather make 
 the road keep you, then, Tom, our ways lie different; you shall always find a 
 friend, but no longer a comrade, in Dick Turpin. My fireside, and I hope 
 soon to have one, shall be your own ; my purse at your service ; but I have 
 resolved, and Richard Palmer will keep his word, to renounce my outlawed 
 life." 
 
 " Well, well," said King in a subdued tone, for he knew that in these 
 tempers Dick was immoveable ; " I suppose you know best ; I've prophesied 
 though, once or twice before, and I've not been wide of the mark, when thes:; 
 
DICK TURPIN. 231 
 
 sudden moralities tome over you, that you'd find • circumstances alter cases/ 
 as the old women say — and some of our grandmothers were no fools. But are 
 you really bent on cutting us all dead at this spot, eh ? Mrs. Margaret," said 
 King, with an engaging smile. " We must really get you to intercede with 
 the Captain, as common report now styles him, not to — '' 
 
 But the gay Tom's rhetoric had been forestalled, for the power to which 
 he appealed had already been consulted, and the late taste of the perils and 
 precariousness of a robber's life had made her not only assent, but strenuously 
 exert herself to strengthen the resolved amendment of Turpin. The death of 
 Fielder too, as related by Roger, lent her additional weight ; so to King's 
 appeal she replied : — 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Tom, if you reckon on my word in this business, you're much 
 mistaken : do'ee think as I'd take upon myself to advise Mr. Palmer against 
 his own good? I've no idea, not I, of a gentleman like you doing as my 
 Richard — (and she laid a stress on the my). We've made it up long since 
 to go down into Lincolnshire, leave the whole on ye, and live quiet ; besides, 
 for you to advise — " 
 
 " Will you oblige me," said Dick in a vexed tone, " by leaving myself and 
 Tom to ourselves?" 
 
 Madge was too accustomed to Dick's voice not to know that this desire was 
 a command ; she therefore left them. 
 
 " And now, Roger," said Dick, " have you a mind to take service, or will 
 you follow your present life ?" 
 
 " I'll follow >ou," replied the rough fellow, " go where 'ee will, so long as 
 yee'll let me. Ize main zorry though, for poor Master George ; he wor a 
 jolly trump, and thof our 'quaintance wor but short, 'twos a merry one. 
 Many's the time he brought the tears i' my eyes wi' laughing at his sayins 
 and his doins — but he's goan ; " and Roger finished the funeral oration of his 
 facetious friend with a shake of his huge head. 
 
 "Then I'll take you at your word," said Dick. " And now, Tom, farewell ; 
 aud if ever you come to Brough, for there it is my intention to settle, after 
 buying a few horses on my road down ; I shall feel offended, if you forget your 
 old friend — who was once Dick Turpin. Good bye !" 
 
 Twelve months had rolled by — it was market day at Boston, and 
 a busy group of the more respectable graziers and farmers crowded the prin- 
 cipal room ; a large panelled apartment, on the walls of which hung hats of 
 every shape and size, and coats of every material and colour, from the showy 
 upper "Ben," of the flashy horse-chaunter and coper, down to the coarse heavy 
 blanketing of the sturdy farmer. The group was not less motley than the 
 garments. Here two sporting-looking kiddies adjusted the difference between 
 pounds and guineas in the price of a high-bred " bit of blood," and there 
 fanner Wiggins settled wi' Gregory Gubbins the money " to boot " which 
 should effect an exchange between " ould Ball '' and his grey gallowav, 
 "Trusty;" while Mr. Flower, the miller, who never thought blindness an 
 unsoundness, was chaffering for a sightless animal, which he had heard had 
 been struck by lightning, and thus rendered almost useless for the pack-horse 
 work of Mr. Swap, the carrier. 
 
 In the midst stood Mr. Newton, a most " respectable" horse-dealer, at least 
 common report said so ; for he always paid what he promised, dealt shortly 
 and liberally, sported a great deal of ready money, was off-hand in his settle- 
 ment of accounts, liberal in his manner, sang a good song, and last, though 
 
232 DICK TUKPIN. 
 
 not least, always paid for the " odd bottle," in a reckoning. He moreover 
 kept a natty gig, had rather a dashing wife, and was therefore, of course, highly 
 respectable and respected. Yet few knew whence Mr. Newton came ; but as he 
 "owed nobody nothing," as the saying was, " nobody need care ; " and ac- 
 cordingly nobody did care, or trouble themselves, himself, or herself, about 
 the private matters of Mr. Newton. 
 
 " I'll tell'ee what," said a hearty-looking man with whom Mr. Newton had 
 just before entered, and who had now finished a bargain, " I think I've ge'en 
 'ee such a large figure for that animal, as you ought to stand summut han- 
 some — I do — " 
 
 " With all my heart,'' said Mr. Newton ; and they turned towards a small 
 table to seat themselves. 
 
 At this table sat two men ; they were dealing for a horse, and the purchase 
 money had just been paid down. The face of the purchaser was turned away 
 from Mr. Newton, but he could not fail to recognize the fall of the shoulders, 
 the genteel riding coat, and the precise gentility and active person of his old 
 friend, Tom King. 
 
 He stepped forward so as to get a sight of the man's face ; at that moment 
 the man turned his head, and a meaning smile stole across his features as he 
 glanced at Turpin. 
 
 The farmer and Mr. Newton were soon joined by Tern. 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Newton, how do you do? Glad to see you — just come from 
 Scarbro' myself; been drinking waters for benefit of health — saw servant on 
 road, Mr. Newton, — said I should most likely find you at the Golden Lion— 
 dem'd lucky to drop on you. Take a glass of sherris, friend N., do as we do, 
 eh?" 
 
 To this rattle Mr. Newton replied by accepting the proffered glass ; a bottle 
 was discussed; the old farmer left the room, the company thinned, the young 
 fellow of whom Tom had made a purchase departed, and the two friends were 
 left nearly alone. A lazy-looking waiter loitered about, wiping up slops and 
 rubbing tables ; candles were brought, and at length the waiter aforesaid, 
 having finished his dawdlings, retired to a little box or hole, fitted up for his 
 convenience in one corner of the apartment, there to occupy himself in sundry 
 deliberate gyrations of his fingers in the bell-shaped rummer glasses, which 
 operation, though there was no dust in the glasses, he termed "dusting." 
 
 " I suppose Dick," said King, when they were left alone, " that you can't 
 assist a fellow on a pinch in this part of the world — eh?" 
 
 Turpin did not look displeased. And here we must apologize for preferring 
 nature to the statutes of novel-writing " in this case made and provided." 
 We have before had occasion to avow our heresy, and declare our intenti 
 not to yield for an instant the precedent of melodrame and romance, whe. 
 observation and truth tell us they belie nature. Turpin had good motiv 
 but what avail are they against the evil bias of the human heart, when crini 
 has become habitual ? He had no fixed principle. He meant well yet acte 
 ill. He saw the better and took the evil way; and then silenced conscience 
 by " the tyrant plea, necessity.'' We have said that to such a soul as his 
 action was life; with such spirits, it is the good or evil direction of 
 their energies which makes them eminent for good or for evil. They cannot 
 live and die like the commonplace plodders, who hug themselves mightily on 
 their common sense, prudence, propriety, &c, &c, ; they are the active and 
 superior geniuses, who, figuring either as conquerors or cut-throats, hierarehs 
 
DTCK TURPIN", 
 
 233 
 
 Captain Scott rubbed by l'ur|iai. and King'. 
 
 or highwaymen, bishops or burglars, poets or pickpockets, princes or priso; - 
 breakers, numarchs or murderers, "carve" for themselves a name, by genius in 
 the study, eloquence in the pulpit, valour on the battle field, or hardihood on 
 the "bad eminence" of the scaffold. Of such mould, though differently di- 
 rected by birth, education, time, temperament, and circumstances, are the men 
 who, incapable of mediocrity, outstrip their fellows ; who blot or illustrate the 
 page of history ; who live famous or infamous in the memory of their race ; 
 and who, whether as glorious objects for veneration and example, or beacons 
 for evitation and abhorrence, must excite interest, whether figuring among 
 the princes of the earth on the scroll of history, or "damned to everlasting 
 fame" on the records of crime. Thus a "deathless hero," who "leaves a 
 name at which the world grows pale," and a desperate villain, who lends an 
 absorbing interest to the history of "notorious criminals," are but various 
 studies of our common nature ; forms, slightly differing, of our common clay, 
 and nearer links in our common humanity than the conceit of sciolists, and 
 the pride of philosophers dare own, even to themselves. 
 
 King waited his comrade's answer. Turpin was evidently undecided fa' 
 once The ruling passion for adventure had been long restrained; many a 
 time had he felt an inclination to take a trip to town to see his old com- 
 panion ; and now he was thrown in his way. Dick was certainly ill-adapte ( 
 for trade. The hasty generosity of his nature was no match for the wily 
 "Yorkshire tykes,*' with whom he was continually dealing. He was, perhaps 
 as far as judgment was concerned, as good a judge of horse-flesh as most of 
 No. 30. 
 
234 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 them ; but his judgment was neutralised by the absence of that wary and 
 patient cunning by which they would, as Sam Slick says, "get hold of the 
 eend of a bargain :" consequently, as his character became known, his impe- 
 tuous liberality was practised on ; and, though got the best of with his 
 eyes open, Dick, with his liberal and spendthrift habits, had already 
 exhausted his little capital. The failure of his means was not, how- 
 ever, accompanied by any retrenchment in his expenditure ; nay, as his 
 resources decreased, Dick, as might be expected from his temper, became 
 more profuse, and what people called "liberal," or rather reckless. To King's 
 question he replied, 
 
 " Can / assist you at a pinch, Tom, do you say ? A word in your ear — 
 here's twenty-five (and he drew out a small canvass bag) and five are thirty, 
 (producing some loose gold and silver from his pocket,) take what you want." 
 
 " Why look ye, Dick," said King, with a slight expression of hurt feeling 
 in his tone ; " I did suppose you thought better of me than that I'd sponge 
 on even you; though I know- your purse is a3 free as your heart. No, no; 
 'tis not for money that I asked your assistance — but I've a question, which 
 I know you'll excuse, and then we'll talk about t'other business. How go 
 matters — business matters — prosperously ? I know we've no secrets."' 
 
 " I'll tell you, Tom," said Turpin, lowering his voice, "those thirty guineas 
 you see there, are the full half of all I possess in the world, and twenty of 
 that's the produce of a mare and foal which belongs to one Tom Creasey, of 
 Bullingbrook ; 'twixt you and I Tom, I must take Bullingbrook in my way, 
 and call on that fellow ; he's a shrewd chap — an ugly customer in the way of 
 lying, cheating, and all the other accomplishments which go to make a prosper- 
 ous dealer in these parts. You haven't seen so much of 'em as I have. I'm sick, 
 heart sick, of the meanness, scoundrelism, and roguery of these slow-blooded, 
 chaffering knaves, who talk of their ' honesty,' while they are always 
 sailing within a doubtful point of the law. A set of vagabond cheats who 
 only avoid felony in their dealings because their cowardice blenches at the 
 thought of danger to their own worthless carcases. I've many a time, Tom," 
 continued he, his choler rising as he spoke, " many a time been tempted to 
 right myself by robbing some scoundrel who had taken a dirty advantage of 
 me,-(all, as he called it, in the way of trade ; ) it's no use blinking it, Tom: 
 I wasn't meant for this d — d plodding, dirty cheatery, and what's more, I'm 
 determined to have done with it — so out with your scheme — and if you've 
 need of him, Dick Turpin's once again your man." 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed King, grasping his hand ; " there spoke Dick himself. 
 Good bye, Mr. Newton" — (and Tom bowed, with much gravity, towards the 
 door, as if bidding some one farewell.) "The plot's this :— Didst ever hear 
 of Dicky Scott — Captain Scott of Scarborough-Spa — ' The Governor/ as 
 they call him ? (Dick replied by an affirmative nod.) Well, p'raps, by way 
 of explaining, I ought to tell you I've been doing the dash there for this 
 season ; and being, I flatter myself, a pretty fellow of my inches, I began 
 the campaign tolerably well : I was flush-blunted too, so ran on pleasantly 
 enough; for you see, thus far north, I hadn't the honour of being known. 
 But all play a~nd no work will never do, Dickon ; and I must say that I've 
 sadly lost sight of business in my pleasures. Among my acquaintance there, 
 I've become rather intimate with, the Captain, and an oddity he is ; he took 
 a marvellous fancy to me, by-the-bye : — well, though I wasn't looking for 
 anything of the sort, I picked up a few little bits of information, that may be 
 
DICK TURPI N. 235 
 
 of professional service ; and one of them is, that the Captain makes it a practice 
 to keep the greater part of his property in cash — and from his prompt pay- 
 ment, has got the name of ' Ready-money Dick.' Now, at the end of the 
 season, on leaving Scarborough, he takes with him a large sum to his residence 
 at Pickering, mostly in gold. What say yon, Dickon, to a few hundreds of 
 the gold the worthy ' Governor 1 has collected from the visitors at the Spa?'' 
 
 Dick assented by a squeeze of the hand, at the same time laying upon the 
 table a heavy handled horsewhip, which he now usually carried : King's 
 attention was attracted to its massive mounting. 
 
 "I see you like to distinguish yourself even in these parts," said he ; "egad, 
 such a whip as that would astonish the horsemen at ' St. James's :' (Tom 
 read the inscription.) ' To James Newton, Esq.' — damme, they've 'squired 
 you too — ' as a testimony of their respect, this whip is presented by the 
 members of the Bucklei^h Club ;' very good ; ha! ha ! and who may this same 
 ' Buckleigh Club,' as they call themselves, be?" 
 
 " A mere set of hawbucks," said Dick, " though convivial dogs they are, as- 
 far as that goes; they presented me this whip — which, I must own, shows 
 their good feeling much more than their taste — in consideration of some 
 slight serivces rendered, and the remembrance of some pleasant hours. But 
 when, for this is idle talk, do you ride?— 'tis some seventy miles, or more to 
 Scarborough— and you've not told me when the pigeon flies." 
 
 " On Monday next,'' answered King ; " five days are surely enough for the 
 distance : we must not travel together, and I'll meet you on the road. And 
 now, Dickon, we'll take a cheering cup, and cast dull care behind us." 
 
 The hours flew merrily, and it was late before the smirking chambermaid, 
 
 with bright candlestick in hand, was called to usher the " two gentlemen in the 
 
 travellers' room,'' to their Nos. 8, 9, 10, or whatever their dormitories might 
 
 have been inscribed ; for as de minimis non curat lex, so will not our history 
 
 recor.l these miuut« details. Suffice it to say, that there they slept till 
 
 The morn, 
 
 Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand 
 Unbarred the gates of light. 
 
 An early breakfast and the hire of two cobs was despatched, and Turpin 
 and King rode towards Brough. 
 
 Three nights after, again on the back of his " coal black steed," with the 
 "friend he could trust beside him," Dick stood beneath a tree on the side of 
 the road between Scarborough and Pickering. The similarity of the position, 
 for the day had been rainy, to that in which, years agone, he had entered on 
 his first robbery, rushed on his mind. Where was the companion, the mentor, 
 the instructor in crime, to whom he had then looked up? Hew different 
 now his feelings ! The emulous, eager tyro, had become the cool, the daunt- 
 less, the self-possessed master of his hazardous pursuit ; and had so far dis- 
 tanced the knights-errant of his reckless profession, as to leave vulgar 
 robbers immeasurably behind. And what were now his feelings ? — the omne 
 ignotum pro magnifico again illustrated. He thought, as all such men do, 
 little or nothing ofhimself, or of his acts; and wondering why people should be 
 astonished at that in which he saw nothing to wonder at — hummed a tune 
 impatiently, and turned to King. 
 
 " Tis seven o'clock, Tom ; I hear the bell : I've no notion, when I start oil 
 such a spec, as this, to make a miss of it. You say he stops at the 'Garter 
 to change — why, d — n it, I'll take a push off, Tom, and look for him." 
 
»8« DICK TURPIN. 
 
 So saying Dick dismounted, and drew his saddle-girths ; then, pattino- hi« 
 matchless mare on her bold arched neck, he remounted. 
 
 " Stay here, Tom, till I return,'' said he ; and he cantered gaily towards the 
 inn spoken of, which was distant some mile and a half. 
 
 As he approached the hostel, he saw no chaise, as he had reckoned on, 
 standing at the door ; he therefore gave his horse to the stable-boy, and 
 entered the coffee-room. 
 
 There he found himself not a little at fault. Direct questions might have 
 excited suspicion, and after, a few commonplaces, he left the room and ad- 
 journed to the bar, where, after ordering his horse, on the plea of intending 
 to ride some five miles further, he fell into chat with a rosy-lipped buxom 
 damsel, who claimed paternity from the landlord of the Garter. A few jests 
 from so good looking a customer, and some soft things from so " nice a man," 
 —for Dick had that prepossessing exterior which, like a scarlet coat, allures 
 womankind, when real merit, and that which passeth sEow, is naught — placed 
 them on the best of terms. To record their "small change'' of conversation 
 would be tedious and foreign to our purpose — suffice it to say that, after some 
 rallying as to her numerous sweethearts, a "soft impeachment" which never 
 offended even the veriest prude, Dick said, — 
 
 " And so you dare to tell me, Marian, — your's is a pretty name; excuse 
 the compliment — ( Marian smirked ) — that none of the dashing London gen- 
 tlemen from Scarbro' ever took your fancy ? Come, tell me, don't you 
 dream now and then, Marian, of a Captain Darcy, who was here some 
 months ago ?" 
 
 The girl's colour changed momentarily, and, with a toss of the head, she 
 said, — 
 
 "I'll thank you, sir, to mind your own business — Captain Darcy, indeed! 
 I never trouble my head, I'm sure, about any such fellows." 
 
 Her mortified tone belied her words, and, female curiosity triumphing over 
 her affected indifference, she added, — 
 
 " Do you know anything about the Captain ? He promised — " then check- 
 ing herself, she looked at Dick, and with the arch smile of a coquette con- 
 tinued, "but all you fine London gentlemen think nothing of promising us 
 silly country girls, and then leaving us — " 
 
 Their chat was interrupted at this point by a long and loud ring at the 
 yard bell, and a stumping countryman, who entered the passage v exclaiming, 
 
 " I zay, missus, here's a foine to-do just a t'other soide o' the hill. Thev 
 ha' brokken doon wi' the Guvner's ould cwoach, and hur wants Robin, and 
 zum help to lug the ould lumb'ring thing to the smithy — an a poastshay to 
 Pickering, d'ye see." 
 
 The non-appearance of their intended prey was now fully accounted for. 
 
 In ten minutes the Captain arrived, and having ordered supper, declared 
 that he should stay there that night; and Dick, having found out the exact 
 time at which the chaise was ordered for the morning, hastened back to his 
 comrade. 
 
 " Tommy, my boy," said he, " this will be a peep-o'-day job — my best chops 
 have generally been early morn ones. We must put up for the night some- 
 where ; you're too well known to show at the Garter, I find. Egad! Tommy, 
 you've been turning the girl's head there, for she looked all carnation when I 
 named Captain Darcy — you're a sad dog, Tom, however — so we'll ride back to 
 the next village, and return to this by seven o'clock, about which time I've 
 
DICK TURPIN. 237 
 
 made an appointmeut with myself to meet Captain Scott on matters of busi- 
 ness — eh ? " 
 
 " By all means," said Tom, laughing. " T too have a loan to negotiate with 
 the same gentleman ; and with your consent, Dick, I wish to have you as a 
 witness of the transaction ; so, at seven, we'll wait the arrival of our kind 
 provider, under this very tree." 
 
 They rode off, and stabled their horses at an alehouse on the road ; then 
 retired to a private room. 
 
 It was a dull and cloudy morning, as the two highwaymen repaired to the 
 spot fixed on. The chill air was loaded with a damp fog, which rendered it 
 difficult to discern objects, even at the distance of a few yards. 
 
 "Cheerful day this, Tom; one would think it made on purpose for our 
 job. Hark ! here he comes !" 
 
 The posters came on at a shuffling tcot, and the chaise was opposite to the 
 tree, when King commanded the post-boy to " stand," which ominous order he 
 obeyed, even with the hair on his head, which stood erect with fright as he 
 eyed the barrel of the long horseman's pistol in a line with his skull. 
 
 The Captain, however, was quick and ready; he was well armed, and among 
 his eccentricities, "discretion," which Falstaff has pronounced the better part 
 of valour, was certainly not to be found. The word "Stand!" was fol- 
 lowed by a flash from the window of the chaise, and a bullet whizzed across 
 the cheek bone of King, flittering the yellow worsted wig with which Tom's 
 natural hair was covered, and carrying away a love lock, about the 
 size of an opera glass, which had long been one of the objects of his assiduous 
 cultivation. Tom raised his hand to his head, down which the blood was 
 trickling, felt his left ear, and was about to return the compliment with 
 interest, when Dick, who was near the coach window, cried out, 
 " Don't fire, Bob — no bloodshed ; come, surrender, or — " 
 The chaise-door opened, and there stood Captain Scott with another pistol 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Come, come, gentlemen — I beg a parley," cried he, on seeing that he 
 had two armed men to deal with. Dick, who carried the heavy horsewhip 
 before mentioned, had no notion of treating thus with a presented piece ; so 
 with one sudden and sharp blow, he struck the weapon from the Captain's 
 hand. The unfortunate gentleman saw all resistance must be worse than 
 useless; he therefore tried, by resigning a part of the large sum he had with 
 him, to retain the rest. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I see I'm at your mercy — what say ye to a gift, a free 
 gift of a cool hundred? I'm not going to behave shabby — that'll be a good 
 morning's work ; and I'll give you the word of a man of honour, you shall 
 neither be pursued nor molested, nor will I ever — " 
 
 "Can't think of it, my kind sir," said Tom, bitterly, still feeling the side of 
 his head which had suffered the never-sufficiently-to-be-lamented bereavement 
 of his lady-killing curl ; " Wouldn't have taken the small sum you mention 
 for the deprivation of my — " 
 
 Captain Scott's astonishment, during this speech, maybe supposed; he was, 
 however, cunning enough not to betray the discovery he had made ; for Tom, 
 in the unaffected grief at the loss he had suffered, by quitting his assumed 
 stern tone, and falling into his natural speech and manner, had betrayed his 
 identity with the Captain Darcy of Scarbro* notoriety, and now confirmed it 
 bv the exposure of his hair, which he had made by pushing up the wig from 
 *^e wounded side. 
 
Sat DICK TURPIN. 
 
 * Can't positively take less than two hundred and fifty, in consideration of 
 personal damage, and don't include my friend's claim in that — What, you know 
 me, eh V said Tom, suddenly recollecting himself, and perceiving at the same 
 time a peculiar meaning look steal across the face of the Captain : " Oh ! 
 
 very well ; Captain Darcy's compliments to Captain Scott — if it's come to that 
 
 and will thank him to honour this draft for fire hundred, or — " said Tom, 
 bringing his horse close up to the chaise-door, and clapping his pistol close 
 to the Captain's head. 
 
 This argument um ad hominem was undeniable — there could be no mistaking 
 its meaning ; yet the captain did not show any intention of leaving his 
 treasure. 
 
 " Come out into the road, sir, immediately," said Dick, in a tone that 
 made the gentleman start ; he still, however, hesitated : he loved his money 
 bags, and stood 
 
 Like Adam, lingering near his garden. 
 
 Turpin became impatient at his delay. 
 
 "Come out, sir, or byG — ,"and he accompanied the oath by agaiu raising 
 the butt end of his whip. 
 
 Captain Scott saw that affairs were hopeless, and stepped into the road. 
 
 " Take care of your friend, Captain Darcy/' said Dick, and proceeded on 
 the search. A small leather travelling desk lay on the seat of the carriage, 
 and told, both by its weight and sound, of its precious contents. " Here's 
 what we want," continued Dick. 
 
 The Captain looked at it with a despairing sigh. 
 
 " You're fortunate," said he, with what the Captain thought the most 
 unpleasant facetiousness it had ever been his lotto hear; "you're fortunate in 
 falling into the hands of gentlemen ; we shall not take your watch, and shall 
 leave your loose cash, &c, but you must consent to a little arrangement for our 
 safety, which may be rather inconvenient." 
 
 Dick dismounted ; and having bound the hands of the Captain, in spite of 
 all remonstrances, he transferred the shawl from his neck to the traveller's 
 eyes. Having completed the same kind offices for the postboy, who begged 
 hard for his life during the ceremony, they led the pair through a gate into a 
 field, where, laying them both on the grass, they promised them worse treat- 
 ment should they stir for one hour; then, after toggling the horses' forelegs 
 with the reins, left the chaise by the roadside. 
 
 " The chance is, there'll be nothing by this way for some hours — at any 
 rate we shall have a fair start ; that was devilish unlucky that recognition ; 
 I must cut these northern parts, for I don't think the air of them agrees with 
 Captain Darcy's constitution. However, I don't know it goes for much ; only 
 I must drop the Darcy, and keep out of the way a little : what say you to a 
 trip to Holland ? I forgot, there's no need — you can return to Brough, no- 
 body will ever suspect the unsuspectable Mr. Newton." 
 
 For the last half minute, Dick had been inspecting the handle of his whip 
 with a troubled look. 
 
 " There's worse to come of the matter, I fear, than even the discovery of 
 Captain Darcy, which is no discovery at all. Mr. Newton must disappear, 
 and that without delay ; it will never do to ride back now — no, no ; look 
 here, Tom, that's awkward, I should say:" and Turpin held the whip-handle 
 towards King, who now saw that the silver decoration inscribed with Turpin's 
 assumed name, and that of the club who had presented it, was broken off. 
 
DICR 'TCTRWN 239 
 
 «« There's something there they may make a handle of,' said Dick, with a 
 bitter jest ; for desperate danger, which unnerves many men, lent him presence 
 of mind: "Mister Newton mustn't even call at Bullingbrook now, I should 
 say, unless he's a mind to commit felo de se : so here's for London, Tom, 
 and when there we must leave the rest to the chapter of accidents. I go no 
 more f o Brongh — that's certain." 
 
 A few changes in their disguises were effected, and the following Sunday 
 Dick, and his gay companion were once more in mighty Babylon, snugly en- 
 sconced in the back slums of Westminster, in the privileged hole called ' - The 
 Sanctuary, on the " lucus a non lucendo'' principle, that its precincts con- 
 tained more crime, and consequently less holiness, than any equal space in the 
 sinful citv of London. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 To what results will fell revenge not lead 
 
 Phe human mind; the heart inured to guilt 
 
 Shrinks not at murder to attain its ends. 
 
 Oh dreadful thirst for blood, that canst drstroy 
 
 Our kindlier instincts, and the soul imbue 
 
 With a desire of annihilation, 
 
 Hence from this bosom keep; and be my fate 
 
 To banish malice, and forgiveness teach. — Old Play. 
 
 The fame of the robbery of Captain Scott, by an adventurer who had been 
 known for a few months at Scarborough, as a Captain Darcy, and the urfeqni- 
 vocal testimony of the engraved whip handle, which had broken off when Dick 
 struck the pistol from the Captain's hand, and was found amongst the straw in 
 the post chaise, as to the participation of Mr. Newton, the " respectable" horse 
 dealer, in the affair, had astonished the country far and wide. The sudden 
 disappearance, too, of that worthy gentleman, decided the fact of his penchant 
 for highway exploits ; and within a week, not a doubt remained on people's 
 minds that the redoubted captain of Essex, the far-famed Dick Turpin, and 
 the liberal horse dealer of Brough, were one and the same. The Captain 
 declared in all companies where he narrated the particulars of his loss, his con- 
 viction that Captain Darcy was the Tom King, and stoutly maintained that 
 he had had the honour of being robbed by the two most accomplished thieves 
 in Christendom. Daring, even though in a bad cause, ever charms the multi- 
 tude ; and the dashing courage and bold generosity with which many of the 
 offences of Turpin were accomplished, had positively rendered him popular, 
 especially with the lower orders. There are several instances recorded in 
 which this admiration led the people, even at personal risk to themselves, 
 and in the teeth of the temptation of a reward, to shelter and assist, or connive 
 at the escape of a " bold highwayman." Nor is this to be wondered at — for 
 the sympathies of the poor went not with the class who were robbed by the 
 mounted man — and that irrepressible respect which daring contempt of danger 
 ever commands, made, in the eyes of the vulgar, a hero of the criminal. 
 
240 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Dick remained for some montns perdu,* and Madge, returning to London, 
 took apartments at a small house at Holloway. 
 
 It may be guessed that the officers watched her movements narrowly, but a 
 liberal supply of Captain Scott's gold enabled her to sweeten those she feared, 
 and completely hoodwink those she despised; and after two or three months, 
 during which her every action was studied to make it appear that she was as 
 ignorant as themselves of the whereabouts of Turpin, they gave up the job 
 for a bad one, and the quest ceased. 
 
 The reader will remember that some chapters since we noted the 
 escape of Rose, the capture of Berry the cork-cutter, and the treachery 
 of Madge which led to the death of the unfortunate paramour of Bill 
 Stevens, in Lewkner's Laue. Vice rarely fails to bring its own pun- 
 ishment ; and Madge had many an uneasy hour when the ^ast came on her 
 mind, as she thought of the vile plots to which her ill-regulated desire had 
 prompted her, and how lamentably she had failed — yet their very failure 
 had saved her from the misery of revenge. She tumbled whenever she thought 
 of the possibility that some chance or other might put Dick in possession of 
 her perfidy and infamy, of which he was still ignorant. Her apprehensions, 
 too, were painfully increased when she reflected that his present hiding place 
 was in the very heart of the scene of her treachery — and that many of the off- 
 scourings of society in that neighbourhood must be well aware of the whole 
 details of her villany — and what she feared most soon happened. 
 
 Dick, protected by false hair and whiskers, and a dyed skin, now occasion- 
 ally ventured forth. He was seated, one evening, in a publichouse near the 
 Broadway, at no great distance from the scene of the rencontre on the night 
 of the capture of Berry. Turpin, as we have before said, sat in the drinking room 
 of this thieves' hotel. The company consisted, for the most part, of young 
 fellows. Jackets, decorated with a profusion of pearl buttons, kneebreeches, and 
 bright blue worsted stockings, seemed the favourite costume ; but there was 
 a singular shrewd expression of low cunning in most of their eyes, which 
 showed the "snapper up of trifles:" ankle shoes of a neat cut, and well 
 adapted for running, fastened by a long tongue-strap, and a small white metal 
 buckle, were in general favour ; and each sported " around his squeeze,'-' a 
 bright blue or yellow fogle, of a bird's-eye pattern. The loose negligence 
 of the tie, and the absence of anything in the shape of stiffener, were cha- 
 racteristically degage, and so artlessly artful, as to show that this part of the 
 costume was highly regarded. They were mostly youths of vulgar features, 
 and many of them wore long sidelocks, curled in the corkscrew fashion, down 
 the cheek, in the mode so much affected by theatrical sailors. Yet, although 
 most of these " young hempseeds" were commonplace enough in their features, 
 there was a something in the restless twinkle of the eye, and a peculiar 
 shrewdness in the look with which a stranger's least action was watched, 
 which fully spoke the avocation of these candidates for transportation and the 
 gallows. 
 
 " Vy, lively, my kid,*' said one 01 these slangsters to a pal, who sat 
 smoking an ostentatiously large yard of clay, while watching a game of 
 
 * All the lives of Turpin, (at least the three published shortly after his execution) 
 agree, that for the two years previous to Lis execution, all trace was lost of him ; during 
 part of this time he resided at Biougb, in Lincolnshire, where, as appears from the 
 evidence adduced on his trial, he bore a reputable character until bis sudden disap- 
 pearance from the place 
 
DICK TLUl'IN 
 
 341 
 
 Nan Turner assaults Madge Duttoi.. 
 
 shovehalfpenny ; " vy you seems to me in tow-street(l) just now. Vot, a iother 
 tweiver ! (2) veil, blow me, but you're dropping the. Stephen ;(3) vot'ill the old 
 hen say to this here V 
 
 The speaker was dirtier and older than the majority of the company, and 
 though clothed much in the same style, displayed none of the flash smartness 
 of his juniors. The man he addressed, who looked about his own age, was 
 not only dressed in a more respectable manner than the rest, but had an air 
 o. swagger about him, which spoke the thief in better feather. He had 
 been betting on the chances of the game, and had lost several shillings to a 
 fellow who, a looker on, like himself, had been taking his bets on the events. 
 
 " Don't 'xactly see vot bisness 'tis o' yourn," replied the chap, in a half- 
 •arnest, half-chaffing tone, " vot my old 'un ses 'bout the grease ; (4) for don't 
 s'pose as I lets her go like your hen vith rum rigging on the morning lay: 
 that ere area-sneak grab vos rayther queer — is it true, my rum 'un, as they guv 
 you a vooden ruffle for buffing(5) on that ere suit ? Veil, don't look cagged ;(G) 
 it vos all correct to try to double the lumber-coves for the old voman, cos she 
 vos doing the rightus thing ven the haccident(7) fell in.'' 
 
 (1) Getting into a dilemma — beinp deluded, or helplessly led by the nose. 
 
 (2) Shilling. (3) Money. 
 
 (4) Money. (b) Got put, in the pillory tor perjury. (6) Angry. 
 
 (7) Detection. 
 No. Si. 
 
242 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 To this severe stroke of chaffing satire, the fellow seemed to have little to 
 retort. He grinned with affected indifference, and observed : — 
 
 "Veil, if I did look out o' the pictur' frame, I didn't show half so hugly a 
 hindex(l)asa Kevaintance of our'n,ven he vosstagged in coining the kimbau,(2) 
 for the vack and onions,(3) and yelped to the grab, asides shelling out the 
 ridge ;(4) for allvich he vos revarded by gettin'the jigger dubbed(5) on him. 
 Vo ho, ses I, ven I heerd on it, vot a muff he must be : — did you hear any- 
 thing knock(6) — eh, Lively ?" 
 
 "Very tidy that ere, from a cove vot's vorn a Norvay neckcloth, (7) I don't 
 think," responded Lively, who, though he had the best of this encounter of 
 Tyburn wit, seemed to consider his antagonist beneath him ; he therefore 
 continued — ■ 
 
 " Veil, Harry, there's no use you and I chaffing, so stow yer whid (8) on that 
 suit ; asides, I varn't nabbed pricking the vicker for a dolphin, (9) cos the old 
 voraan's all right for scran. (10) Howsever, bite yer name in that ere," 
 said he of the broadcloth coat, handing the pot ; " and if yer for a Field-lane 
 duck,(ll) I'm the cove as 'ull do the dodge." 
 
 Turpin had listened with some amusement to the slang of these two minor 
 practitioners in the " art of appropriation ;" the one, he plainly saw, was the 
 thief in luck, and his familiar was the same character out. The dainty to 
 which the thief had invited his comrade was quickly produced, smoking hot ; 
 for the landlord of this boosing-ken, like many others in low neighbourhoods, 
 supplied sheeps' heads hot each evening.(12) The poorer and seedier thief 
 seized the knife, and dipped it into a hollow of the thick table, where some 
 most suspicious looking mixture, of ambiguous colour, lay heaped, and pro- 
 ceeded to sprinkle the variegated dust on the steaming morsel— for this 
 receptacle was the only saltcellar the landlord dare trust to his light-ringered 
 customers; nay, it was the peppercaster too; which accounted, in some 
 measure, for the dirty aspect of the powder, though it would not be safe to 
 vouch that no other dirt but trashy black pepper had a share in detracting 
 from what once might have been the pure whiteness of the salt. 
 
 " Cut avay," said the patron and provider. "I don't vant any; I'se agoin 
 to get a relish— a Yarmouth capon,(13) or summut o' that like — vill yer have 
 some panum,(14) eh ?" 
 
 "Lively," as he was called, left the room, but soon returned, carrying one 
 
 (1) Face. (2) Was detected in an attempt to defraud. (3) Watch and Seals. 
 
 (4) Gold. (5) Door locked. (6) D'ye take the hint I 
 
 (7) Another term for the pillory. (8) Hold your tongue. 
 
 (9) Robbing a baker's basket. (10) Victuals. (11) A baked sheep's head. 
 
 (12) This was an ordinary practice — now no more. Coveut Garden has this very year 
 1839, been forcibly bereaved of its coffee (once saloop) stalls ; which formerly, (as the 
 following couplets from a "A Covent Garden Eclogue," published in 1737, will show) 
 were devoted to curious uses in the edible way. The writer, after going through the 
 various scenes presented by each successive hour of darkness, thus paints the dawn 
 of the morning : — 
 
 " Now Pbrrbus gilds the square, all cabbage strown, 
 And sbould'ring porters 'neath their burdens groau ; 
 The stagg'ring blood reels homeward with his trull, 
 And dirty ruft'd and faded silks show dull ; 
 Stalls, thickly gathering o'er the open ground. 
 With ' Hot ox-nheek, and bai lev-broth !' resound," 6.L-. 
 
 (13) A red herring. (M) Bread. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 243 
 
 of those piscatory delicacies, and called a boy-prig, with an air of superiority, 
 to " guv it a toss on the grill." 
 
 Harry had by this time stripped the bones of the sheep's head, whose rows 
 of dingy teeth seemed " to grin horribly a ghastly smile ; and Turpin, 
 who, in a dark, corner, had fallen into a reverie, was awakened by some- 
 thing to the following effect in the course of their conversation. 
 
 " Veil, Harry, vot's bin along vith yer, o' late ? I ain't seed nuffin o' 
 Hoppy 'Til sence she and you vos a livin in Vitechapel. My eyes! — I know'd 
 there vos summut as 1 vonted to get light (I) on. Votcum'd o' that ere Madge 
 as vos a lib(2) to the vun eyed 'un as vos nubbed ? (3) She vor a spicy Moll ! 
 vot's cum'd on her ?" 
 
 "Vot, vorn't you fly to all that dodge- -eh? By nabs," said the fellow, 
 shaking his head, " she vor a spicy vun— if so be you calls it spicy to nose 
 on the cove as she gammoned she fancied. Vy, lor bless yer, I'll tell 'ee vy 
 she nashed(5) to the Chapel: fust she nosed on Bob Berry, Bill Stevens, and 
 the lot here hard by, vich vos the cause of a lot on 'em got spoke to. (6) A 
 spicy vun I think you said ? — vy there never vos a more artful card. She gam- 
 moned the vun eyed 'un — he vos no ketch for sartin — but that's nuffin : veil, 
 she gets him in a line to take a downer (7) at her crib, vere'Till vos,-poor gal, 
 she vos a trump, I'll say that for her, though she has hopped the twig (8)— let 
 me see, vere vos I? — Oh ! about Madge. Veil, she know'd from old Ferret 
 as her cove had been at a cracking consarn vere squeaking had 'a bin done,(9) 
 so she draws from him vere he vos a hiding, and in the mornin' early, off 
 she ikes to the traps, makes it all right, and nails her cove for a ground 
 sveat:' (10) 
 
 " D — n her " growled the auditor, between his teeth, while Dick list- 
 ened to the narrative with astonishment and curiosity. 
 
 " Veil, as I said afore, he was crapped. ( 11) You knows ven I vos vith Bill Pearce 
 in that ere consarn in the George here?'' The other admitted his recollection 
 of the circumstance with a nod. "Veil, I vos lumbered for a lunar,(12) though 
 there vos nuffin agin me ; so / owes her vun, two — she's a knowing vun. Vy 
 vot d'ye think she does? — she ketches hold ov an old rattling gloak,( 13) and 
 makes ridge (14) out on 'im like dirt, tips him turnips, and vithin a veek, she 
 logs (15) herself on vith Captain Turpin— you needn't stare, it's true vot I'm 
 a tellin' you-ay, vith Captain Turpin, the high tober gloak; (1 6) cuts the veeds 
 of a hempen vidder (17 J and 1 dessay 'ull go on vith him as long as the cori- 
 anders vill last,--and then, vy, if she doesn t git nicked afore, vy she'll slip the 
 prime 'un's jemmy into the rope vinder vich them as looks through can't 
 feel the floor." 
 
 " Veil, that's a rummy story, if half on it's true," said his listener. 
 S( Moisten your chaffer, Harry ; but vot's queer to me is as she should ha' tried 
 to snitch on the Captain, and she so gallus fond on him." 
 
 " Vy you're soft, my Lively, I'm a thinking — though I ought to ha' told yer 
 one thing. Ven she tried to put the kybosh on the cove that owns her now, he 
 
 (I) Information. (2) Left-handed wife. (3) Hanged. 
 
 (4) Hanged. (5) Ran away. (6) Cast for death, passed sentence on, 
 
 (7) Sleep, go to bed. (8) Or, as an Irishman would phrase it, " gone dead." 
 
 (9) A burglary wh9re murder has been committed. (10) Got him taken for a crime 
 
 which forfeited his life. (11) Hanged. (12) Imprisoned lor a calendar month. 
 
 (13) A simple old dupe. (14) Gold. (15) Attaches herself to, hangs on. 
 
 (16,) Dashing highwayman. fl7) Wife of a man who has been hanged. 
 
244 DICK TURPIN 
 
 tos swished ; (1) vy, I heered Madge say vun night, in this very crib, as she'd 
 go the last kick to be the death on her.'' (Turpii.'s gorge ruse. There was too 
 much of the coherence of truth in the thief s story to allow of a doubt of Us main 
 facts; nay, the affair of Sheepshanks, and the later qfincumstancesj c$ ivinced 
 him of the rest.) " Vy, she vos in here^vun night, vile you V03 in the mack- 
 ery,(2) a swearing as she had nosed out vere the lawful vun hung out,(3j and 
 how she had been a-giving her a turn, and a little 'tin in for herself; and how 
 she didn't know, till she told her, as how Dick vos a toby man, vith a lot more 
 on it ; and how she'd ha' done this that and t'other, oney the cove hisself 
 kirn ben, (4) jist in the nick. None of us know'd then — though the grabbing 
 at Nan Turner's came off that very night — as Madge know'd about that 'ere, 
 till it vos blown here at the Gate,(5) by some of the coves as did the nose. (6) 
 Veil, she nammused, as you may guess, but fust poor old Moll Rhodes got a 
 chive (7) in her breather,- and there vos others owed her it, but she vos a 
 Tight 'nn to 'Til, so I couldn't split on her. Howsever, since as she bolted 
 vith the nobby cove vot gathers gravel- tax,(8) she arn't know'd nobody.'' 
 " Veil," said the thief, taking a swig at the pewter, " ve sees queer ups and 
 downs, Lively. I passed her t'other day, rigged out like a madam ; and 
 them as didn't know her vould never ha' thought as she was used to have her 
 home in the paviour's vorkshop,(9) and didn't she give me the topping 
 cut (10) — my eye! But I'll be vun on her tibby yet." 
 
 ''There's more asides you as has promised that much. Nan Turner dropt 
 into Golden Lane, arter her three years' spell, this very blessed day — and I 
 heered her svear about part o' vot you vos tellin' me, and she vos axing arter 
 — if she should come across her — var hawks ! I'd like to be there to see." 
 
 Turpin rose from his seat and left the room hastily, but scarcely breathed 
 till he reached the open air. He looked right and left from habitual caution. 
 Thieves' virtue, the honour of villains, that strikes all crimes but treachery 
 from its moral code, had not so entirely taken possession of his faculties, as it 
 had of these plebeian robbers. He stood in doubting reflection on the path- 
 way, or rather the sloping accumulation of drift-like mud, some three feet 
 wide, which rose at an angle against the front wall of the public-house he had 
 quitted. He was thus standing, when footsteps approached, and a woman in 
 a heavy hood and cape passed him. He stood aside to allow her to go 
 by, but she stopped, and lightly touching his shoulder with her finger, said 
 "Richard !" in a low voice, and walked slowly on ; for she did not dare a more 
 open recognition, lest she might be watched, and thus unwillingly betray hira, 
 for to him she was really faithful. She walked on, without turning her head, 
 to the corner of the next turning, doubting not but Dick would follow. 
 There she stopped, and looked cautiously round her— no suspicious person was 
 in sight — she looked down the street, and, by the dim flare of the smoky 
 lamp, saw Turpin still stand in front of the house, immoveable as a statue. 
 She watched and waited, but he stirred not. He could not have recognized 
 her signal— -it was assuredly him— it must be ! for she had visited his lurking 
 
 (1) Married. (2) A slang phrase tor the country ; applied 
 
 to being; in prison, at which time the thief was supposed to be out of town. 
 (3) 'Hip wife lived. (4^) Came home. (5) The Gatehouse Prison. 
 
 (6) Give the information. (7) A knife. (8) Money obtained from 
 
 travellers on the highway. (9) The street — so called for an obvious reason. 
 
 (10; The cut consequential. 
 
DICK Tf UPIN. 245 
 
 )>iaee, and he was not there— -she felt a fear of something, she knew not what, 
 which restrained her for a few minutes from again accosting him. 
 
 " She's perhaps just now serving me as she's served so many others," said 
 Dick, and he smiled bitterly as he felt in his breast for the weapons without 
 which he never stirred. "Well, well, it will come when it will, I suppose, 
 and now as well as any other time. But they shan't take me easily. I see 
 no one about; maybe I'm judging her wrong; wrong or right, I don't fear 
 her, but I won't trust her, — no! no !" 
 
 He had got to this point, when Madge again came clown the lane, and 
 Dick advanced towards her. 
 
 "Well, Madge," said he, in so cool and altered a tone that the woman 
 started ; " you're come to look after me— very anxious, no doubt, about my 
 health ?" added he, with a sneer he could not repress, as the thought of what 
 she had inflicted on Esther Bevis recurred unbidden ; " have you. brought any 
 jriends wiih you to visit me in my troubles, as you did the day I was not at 
 home, some years since — eh V 
 
 Madge's heart leaped to her mouth — she tried to speak but could not — 
 it was, however, a chaos of mingled feelings : revenge towards the unknown 
 divulger of her cherished secret — mortification at a discovery which she 
 feared would degrade her in the eyes of the only man she cared for— and 
 lastly, a lurking devil prompted her to retort, so cuttingly cold was Dick's 
 tone and manner ; her conscience, too, told her that to him at least she was 
 dovotedly true, and this barbed the shaft of his contempt. She stammered a 
 " Thank'ee," or she knew not what, and gave a curtsey that was intended as 
 a mock. Dick went on, — 
 
 " I've unfortunately mislaid your note, madam, to the appointment you so 
 kiudly made, the evening you honoured my humble home in Bloomsbury with 
 - — pshaw !" exclaimed he, as he turned away with a motion of disgust, " I can't 
 stand here prating with a woman ; go, Madge, good bye— -here's money, and 
 unless there's^ somebody tvaiting for me, we had better not meet again. 1 ' 
 
 Thus saying, he thrust a purse into her hand : the woman received it pas- 
 sively, looked on it with a vacant eye, then dashed it into the roadway. Dick 
 hud taken but three strides, when Madge rushed madly after him, and seized 
 him by the arm ; at the same moment, the two men whose low talk we have 
 already chronicled, came up the step which led from the publichouse into the 
 street. Madge noticed them not as she eagerly said, 
 
 " Richard ! for God's sake, if we must part, don't part thus ! Richard, 
 dearest Richard, you may spurn me, but you shall not shake me off", till you 
 
 have heard me out. They're lies, cursed lies, by ; I never harmed you, 
 
 or wished to—" 
 
 Dick put one hand on her mouth as she poured forth this, and pointed 
 significantly to the two men, who stood amazed spectators of the scene. 
 Madge took the hint, for she suddenly checked herself — and darting a look 
 f fear and apprehension at the men, both of whom she at once recognised — 
 she pentlv pressed Dick's arm, who obeyed the motion, and the two walked 
 hastily away. 
 
 " Veil, blow my nose !" said the elder ; " you can't guess who that is, I 
 s'pose, can yer ?" 
 
 " Don't I. Harry," retorted his pal ; " cos I vos rayther nutty on her myself 
 afore she slipped off so mysterously : vy, that's Madge Dutton, or my glims 
 is queered." 
 
246 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " The right nail, and no mistake," said Harry; "and t'other— didn't ye hear 
 rot she said, eh ?" 
 
 " Not 'xactly," replied Lively. 
 
 " Vy, t'other's the bold Captain hisself — Dick, and no mistake ; and ve vas 
 gabbing over his family 'fairs afore him : veil, that is a go, to be sure — ha ! ha • 
 and he a going to giv her turnips(l); vy, she'll lumber (2) him, or there's no 
 darbies in the stone pitcher. (3) He's an out-and-outer, the Captain, and if ve 
 could only give him the office to keep out o' mischief, I'd chance a little to do it. 
 Let's track 'em, Lively ; come on, my tulip," and away went the two prigs 
 together. They watched the pair till they were housed. 
 
 " Now, Harry," said the one, " keep a sharp look-out, and I'll go back to 
 the ken ; if you sees anythink queer, or the hen comes out, tip me the know- 
 ledge, and I'll jine yer, for I'm cock sure there's some snitching (4) a goin' on 
 this blessed night." 
 
 Mister Lively was here, however, quite out of his reckoning, for there was 
 nothing of the sort in agitation ; other events of equal importance, neverthe- 
 less, were in embryo, which the night was fated to bring forth. 
 
 We have long lost sight of Roger Haynes ; he had been the servant 
 of Dick, and had since been employed as the go-between of his 
 whilom master and mistress. On the eventful night of which we are now 
 wrrfing, Roger had accompanied Madge ; but, by her instruction, had 
 remained at the end of Duck Lane to watch, lest she should have been tracked 
 in this her first visit to Dick. How differently had that visit resulted, to 
 what Madge had calculated on ! How were her air-built castles of happy 
 greetings and fervent salutes, crushed, annihilated, by the unforeseen know- 
 ledge of her infamy which Turpin had acquired ! Absorbing self, " like 
 Aaron's serpent, swallowed up" all smaller thoughts, feelings, and hopes ; and 
 she had forgotten even the existence of the patient and faithful Roger, who 
 still stood watching at his post, and occasionally walking a few yards in the 
 direction of Dick's lurking-place — soon, however, to walk back to his former 
 station. But now a new actor appears on the scene. 
 
 Nan Turner, as we have already heard, had within a day or two been dis- 
 charged from the gaol to which the treachery of Madge had consigned her. 
 As might be supposed, she had many acquaintances, and from having for 
 several months rented a thieving brothel in Golden Lane, was well known to 
 all classes of those who live by preying on the unwary, vicious, or intoxicated. 
 Since her discharge she had not even found leisure to be sober, and now, in 
 a state of excitement from liquor, fast verging to frenzy, she had made her 
 way to the bar of the George, and was there treating some of her whilom 
 unfortunates ; for Nan had many friends and more acquaintances, and was not 
 unprovided with cash. 
 
 Lively, as the better dressed thief was called, entered, and as he passed Nan 
 and her two companions in the narrow passage, a mutual recognition took 
 place. 
 
 " Vy Nan, strike my blessed daylights if it arn't better nor good luck to 
 gee yer — tip us yer mauns, (5) Vot are you sluicing your ivories vith — eh ? 
 red tape ? (6) Veil, I stands the next turn — vyyou looks in as prime tvig 
 as ever !" 
 
 (1) Get rid of her. (2) Get him apprehended and imprisoned. 
 
 (3) No irons in Newgate : formerly felons were ironed, even before trial. 
 
 (I) Treacherous informing. (5) Give us your hand. (6) Brandy, Cognac. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 247 
 
 44 Give your red rag a holiday, Master Lively, and speak to them as speaks 
 h you," replied Nan, "that Spittleonian and bit of lamb's wool,(l) seems 
 io make you forgit yerself. Keep your treats for them as axes 'em. Ven I 
 comes out on the cadge, I'll not drop the civil (2) to such as you — so shove 
 your trunk, and keep your own company." 
 
 With this polite request to take himself off, Mr. Lively complied, saying, 
 
 " Veil, veil, she's a-come out jist as bounceable as she went in, and I've 
 lcrewed a pig (3) by that suit, and arn't lost my carackter for civility nay- 
 thur ;" he walked into the room before described. 
 
 The interview between Dick and Madge had been much more protracted 
 than pleasant. Dick coolly and quietly declined saying more, after briefly 
 relating to her what he knew. Madge entreated, as such a woman would do t 
 to be confronted with her accusers, but Turpin refused to be a witness to 
 any such disputation, and coldly and calmly ended her remonstrances by 
 saying, — 
 
 " I have not the vanity, Madge, to think that I can change into a faithful 
 and attached woman, one who has thus acted. Go! — perhaps you have 
 already done it — and betray me. Your worthy friends, the officers, to whom 
 you are so valuable a tool, will reward you for it. But — " (he compressed 
 his lips with anger,) " they shall earn the blood-money before they take me. 
 Go ! but I'll take care it shall be too late for them to seek me here- 
 farewell!" 
 
 So saying, Dick passed into another room, and sliding back a pannel in the 
 side of a deep cupboard, discovered a large chimney, applied to an use never 
 contemplated by the builder. It was a capacious old-fashioned flue, and here 
 and there, at short distances in its sides, a brick had been removed, and its 
 place supplied by a square of wood, the end of which slightly projected on 
 each side into its cavity. Turpin stood within, and after closing the pannel, 
 rapidly felt his practised way down ten steps, and catching hold of a piece of 
 wood projecting farther than any of the others, he swung by his hands. A 
 drop of two feet, — a stoop,— and he emerged in a desolate-looking lumber 
 room, in the rear of the adjoining house. The highwayman drew a lantern 
 from his coat, which he put down, with the readiness of one who knew the local- 
 ities even in utter darkness ; he then produced from his breast a small strong 
 iron box, much similar in si?e and appearance to those in which some tars 
 stow their tobacco, and took from it a spring steel ; one smart stroke against 
 a gun-flint screwed in the edge of the box gave a spark to the German tinder 
 it contained, and put Dick in possession of a light ; he unclosed the slide of 
 his lantern, and scrutinized each corner of the apartment. All was right ; and 
 darkening the candle, he gently unclosed the casement, crossed a small vard, 
 hastened down an alley, and stood, in a few seconds, in Union Street, West- 
 minster. 
 
 But we must now return to Madge. When Turpin left the room and passed 
 into the next, she was sitting near the doorway, which commanded a view of 
 the stairs ; and the suspicion never for a moment entered her mind, that the 
 direction in which Turpin had gone commanded the means of exit. She sat 
 for a few seconds with her face buried in her hands, making herself sure that 
 her humble and penitent posture was under the eye of Turpin, and hoping 
 
 (1 ) Silk cackcloth and broad-cloth coat. (2) Make a curtsey. (3) Saved a sixpence. 
 
248 DICK TllUMN. 
 
 that the contrite expressions she v\as pouring forth might induce him to relent. 
 She listened — no sound met her ear ; she looked up, with a timidity that was 
 half true and half pretended ; he was, however, gone. Woman's wit told her 
 that, as he was in the next room only — for that he had not passed her to 
 descend the stairs, she knew — it would be most advisable to wait a.short time 
 ere she ventured again upon an appeal. She peeped slily through her tear- 
 wetted fingers; he was not within view, though a light burned in the next 
 apartment. She listened; all was silent as death: he was assuredly not 
 there. She rose, and stealing towards the door — which, though open* hid 
 two thirds of the room — peeped through the crack between the post and 
 hinges; the room was tenantless! She entered, and was convinced he was 
 gone. A minute's irresolution followed : " I'm again scorned — again de- 
 serted ; fool ! fool !" and she struck her forehead violently, as the blood 
 mounted to her temples. " Oh what would I give ;*' and she gnashed her 
 teeth, and stamped her foot in the paroxysm of her rage, " to be revenged on 
 the wretch who has told him this. He told me, now I recollect, that I had 
 fr'jnds at the George, who knew more of me than he did. Why didn't I 
 prevent his ever coming to this cursed spot— fool ! fool !, fool !" She looked 
 again around the place, then staggered, rather than walked, toward the stair 
 head, and the next moment stood in the street. She rapidly revolved in her 
 mind the most probable hiding places in which she might find Turpin, for to 
 see him again she was resolved. After so long an absence, with a little dis- 
 guise and caution, she might venture into the George, and doubtless might 
 there learn the source of the mischief. She had gold ; and she felt sure* that 
 for that she could not only buy counter-testimony, but, if need should be, 
 produce the very babbler himself, to contradict and eat his own words. " I 
 have it,'' said she ; " I'll ferret it out, and get the very cove hisself — for I 
 dessay he's not nice ; none of the lot were when I knew them— -to say that it 
 was all chafF— a mere line that he was getting his companion into. I'll 
 manage it;'' and away went Madge to a neighbouring dealer in female wearing- 
 apparel. Here she left her bonnet, cloak, &c, in pledge for the return of 
 some seedier and more suitable habiliments for her adventure ; and hav- 
 ing put on a false front of much lighter colour than her natural hair, by 
 whitening her eyebrows, slightly altering her complexion, &c, she soon effected 
 the desired change in her outward appearance. Thus equipped, she walked 
 into the George. 
 
 Nan, and one of her companions, despite the sneering tone in which the 
 first offer of Lively had been received by her, had now joined that personage. She 
 was by this time far gone in liquor, and was loud in her threats of vengeance on 
 Madge, each of which received applauding reception from the assembled ruffians. 
 Ever willing to see a fight, they nevertheless preferred one where en informer 
 might be punished, for on such offenders retribution " came home," as the news- 
 paper scribes have it, "to every man's business and bosom" in the assemblage. 
 They egged on Nan in her resolve for revenge ; at this juncture, the Jewess 
 to whom Madge had applied for the change in her dress, entered, and whis- 
 pered mysteriouuly across the table to one of the thieves. 
 
 " Unpossible," exclaimed the fellow, withdrawing his pipe from his mouth, 
 and squirting the saliva on the sanded floor ; then, looking hard at the woman, 
 he said, " that cock von't fight, Mother Josephs; how d'ye sell your stringf^l) 
 
 (i) A rather untranslatable phrase, meaning, I'm awake to your hoax ; or rather QU 
 intimation that the speaker sees through the trick sought to be put ou him. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 249 
 
 Turpin recognises Tom Kin? and the Barmaid of the Garter. 
 
 do yer see anything green here V. added the fellow, drawing up his eyelid so 
 as to submit the white of the eyeball more clearly to the inspection of Mrs. 
 Josephs ; " ax sun. vun else to go to the counter to look' at Madge Dutton, 
 and there make 'em stand Sam ; (1) it von't fit here — Yalker !" and the accom- 
 plished and ingenious youth applied the end of the thumb of his left hand to 
 his nose, while he agitated his extended four fingers in the air. 
 
 ' Mother Josephs,' nettled at this imputation on her sincerity, retorted ; 
 and the " gag " was getting up, when Lively chimed in. The woman 
 then proceeded to narrate circumstantially the visit and proceedings of Madge : 
 the tViief went to the door and took a survey. 
 
 "It's she for sartin," said he, returning; "kiou*(2) Nan, and we'll git 
 her in. Now, no touting," continued he, to the scoundrels around. " or you'll 
 spile the sport." 
 
 Lively left the room, and very shortly came in, accompanied by Madge, 
 who was secretly rejoiced at what seemed to her the happy success of her 
 scheme. She seated herself by the fellow, and was soon engaged in an artful 
 conversation. 
 
 "And so, my pretty 'un," sail Lively, stiil pretending not to recognise the 
 masquerader i " you vos last at Lincoln, eh ?" 
 
 Madge replied in the affirmative; and after a few minutes" talk on indiffe- 
 rent subjects, she skilfully contrived to lead the conversation to the subject 
 
 No. 32 
 
 (1) Pay for the liquor called for. 
 
 (2) Be quiet. 
 
Q50 uiCK. TURPIN. 
 
 uppermost in her mind. The blood of Nan Turner, who was at a table behind 
 thar whore Madge was seated, was boiling with rage, and it was with no 
 small difficulty that the two fellows who sat by her could restrain her from 
 breaking out into immediate violence, despite the instruction of Lively, that 
 she should await his signal for the discovery. 
 
 " I dessay," said the thief, " that vile you vas in them parts, you see'd the 
 bold Captain oftens ?" 
 
 " O yes,"' replied Madge, entirely off her guard. 
 
 " And maybe you might ha' knowed his moll(l), a 9picy, swellish sort of 
 a bit o' muslin, as he took vith him ven he made hisself scarce from Hessex, 
 eh?" 
 
 Madge gave a short hem ; there was something in the leer of the speaker 
 she did not like, but she dissembled her apprehension, and said, gaily : — 
 
 " Oh ay, let me see — Madge what's her name — -1 never saw anything so 
 very spicy about her. I was always told, though, that she was his wife," said 
 the woman, her vanity getting the better of her discretion ; for if there is one 
 thing more than another upon which the class of unfortunate females pride 
 themselves it is Che assumption of the title of a married woman. Nay, though 
 abandoned by or separated from her husband, however worthless a criminal 
 he may have been, or even though she herself may have deserted him, still does 
 the " married" abandonwe look down with a ludicrous assumption of supe- 
 riority on such of her companions as have never vowed at the altar" to obey." 
 There are mental peculiarities which seem to accompany every class and 
 pursuit in life, and no observer of the world and its ways, can have avoided 
 noticing this anxious desire of almost every female outcast, however degraded, 
 to lay claim to having been " in holy wedlock bound." 
 
 This empty vanity betrayed Madge's secret — or, at least, furnished Mister 
 Lively with a hint for her exposure. 
 
 " Swished to her — gammon !" responded he : " vot, swished to a 'peaching, 
 snitching varmint, as vos common as ditch-vater all through the 'Minster! — 
 Lord, how this vorld is guv to lying!" 
 
 The woman's colour rose; the retort was too keen for endurance; she 
 gulped down her rising passion, but the keen eye of the knowing thief caught 
 her's, and its cunning twinkle expressed his acquaintance with her secret ; — 
 Madge saw she was discovered. 
 
 " P'raps Missus Turpin vould condescend,'' said he, in a chaffing tone, "to 
 let us into the secret? come, Madge, my rum 'un, show us the marriage lines. 
 * Richard Turpin, Esqvire, to Madge' — no, that von't do," said the thief, 
 facetiously pretending to read from the back of his hand, which he held before 
 his eyes, in the way of holding a paper — " Richard Turpin, Esqvire, of Gam- 
 mon parish, to nosing Madge Dutton — " 
 
 " Take that !" cried Nan Turner from behind, dealing an ineffectual blow at 
 Madge. 
 
 She had been bursting with passion for some minutes, and now rushed by 
 the two men with whom she had been sitting. 
 
 " Come out ! come out !" screamed the infuriated and intoxicated virago, 
 
 Madge shrunk back. 
 
 " Don't let me spile sport,'' observed Lively, as he shifted out between the 
 ■ettle and the tablej so as to render of no avail the protection Madge had 
 
 1) Woman. 
 
DIGK TURPI N. 251 
 
 soughf by retreating to the upper end of the table, and near to the wall : " now 
 you can go in, my rum'uns ; and I hope the best voman 'ull vin ;" and Mister 
 Lively, withdrawing his interposing body, permitted Nan to get at Madge ; 
 who, unnerved and astonished at the dilemma in which she found herself, 
 shrunk back to avoid her. 
 
 On the table stood one of the old heavy tankards with a lid, this Madge 
 seized as a weapon of defence, but it was instantly snatched from her grasp 
 by an arm from behind, and as instantly transferred to her assailant. Thiis 
 armed, Nan seized her by the hair — Madge's false curls and head-dress soon 
 strewed the floor, and twisting her left-hand in her strong black hair, the right 
 hand of Nan descended on the head of the unhappy woman, inflicting a fearful 
 bruise or gash. 
 
 U That's the ticket," exclaimed some of the ruffians around. The landlord, 
 used to such noises — for Madge uttered at first no cry — did not leave his bar, 
 being engaged, at that very time, in serving some customers. The brain of 
 Madge reeled beneath the stunning and cutting effects of the blow, and seizing 
 her adversary by a part of her dress near the bosom, she slipped beneath the 
 table, dragging Nan with her into such a position, that her blows failed of 
 effect. Here the two she-fiends scratched, clawed, and swore; but Nan, 
 whom a long prison diet, an unusual quantity of drink, and more advanced 
 years, had reduced below Madge in physical strength, was fast getting the 
 worst of it. Madge had got possession of her head, though undermost, and 
 was getting her into that critical position known among pugilists as " being 
 in chancery," while Nan, from sheer pain and drunkenness, had lost her 
 " hold of vantage," by relaxing her grasp of Madge's long hair. This state 
 of things suited not the spectators. 
 
 " Pull 'em out," said one of the thieves, with perfect sang froid, " Vy the 
 rightus 'un 'ell git tocus — don't yer see how the whiddling (1) warmint is 
 printing her ten commandments(2) in Nan's squeeze (3) ; kim out!" cried he ; 
 and suiting the action to the word, he grasped the leg of Madge, and dragged 
 her out from beneath the protecting table. She now lay defenceless on the floor. 
 No time was given her, for Nan maddened with liquor and the conflict, sprung 
 upon her, and with one knee firmly planted on her chest, struck the miserable 
 wretch with murderous violence on the forehead. Again and again the blow 
 descended. 
 
 " Skewer the jigger (4), carn't yer," cried Lively to a pal, " don't let's 
 have it spiled arter all — slog (5) her, Nan ; that's the cheese." 
 
 The blood of the wretched woman spirted on her assailant, and sprinkled 
 the room around. 
 
 " Mercy ! Mercy !" she gasped faintly. 
 
 " She's a crying 'cavi," said one of tne brutes with a grin; and 
 then an ill-aimed blow or two descended, for Nan Turner was now nearly 
 exhausted. 
 
 One of the ruffians approached the combatants, ana dealt the prostrate 
 wretch a kick in the side. She writhed and screamed with pain — the fellow 
 had scarcely withdrawn his foot when the door burst open, and the unmanly 
 brute lay stunned against the corner of a table hard by. 
 
 " Dom yer murd'ring eyes,'* exclaimed the new comer, looking at the bloody 
 
 (1) Informing. (2) Her finger and thumb nails. (3) Throat. 
 
 (4) Fasten the door, (5) Smash, strike heavily. 
 
252 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 woman, and then glaring savagely around the room, after dragging Nan — no 
 difficult task by the by — from off her victim. 
 
 " Nail him(l); quoit him out," cried Lively, striking with his footatths 
 intruder's leg. 
 
 The man would have fallen, had not a friendly table conveniently received 
 his huge latter end ; so the trip, though cunningly tried, failed of its object. 
 The thieves at once assaulted the new comer, who was for a moment staggered 
 — it was however but for a moment. 
 
 " Sew up his sees" (2), cried Lively, as he and two of his pals made a 
 simultaneous rush. 
 
 The stranger, who was of huge stature, rose from his semi-reclining position 
 despite their blows. One smashing hit deposited Lively in the fire-place, 
 with the symmetry of his countenance wholly deranged ; another thief, fearing 
 to hold his head up, rushed at his legs — but one kick from the hob-nailed boot 
 of the intruder deprived him of more front teeth than he cared to spare, and 
 he too lay on the sanded floor. The other fellow liked not this specimen of 
 the prowess of Madge's champion, who, having thus disposed of his first two 
 customers, stood with his strong arms extended — 
 
 " How many more on ye, ye cowardly vagabones ! Dang it — whoy doan't 
 'ee cum on : ha' ye had enuffT' 
 
 The thieves clustered at the door, and a woman, who was in the room, ran 
 screaming to the bar. 
 
 " Cum, stow this shindy," said the landlord, entering ; " cum, shove your 
 trunk ;(3) let's ha' none o' this." (He addressed the stranger.) 
 
 "Tell they murdering sneakums to toddle — I shan't. Look'ee, Muster 
 landlord — see ;" and he drew the man's attention to the bleeding and senseless 
 Madge. " Domme, but I'll — " cried he, as if irritated by the disgusting sight, 
 and again advancing, with a threatening look, towards the three fellows at 
 the door. The specimen he had just given of his capabilities was, however, 
 so full and satisfactory, that they must have been far more sceptical than wise 
 to seek any further proof; they, therefore, took themselves off at his first 
 advance, and left the room to the undisputed occupancy of the stranger, the 
 two women, the landlord, and their prostrated comrades. 
 
 " What d'ye call all this here ?" asked the landlord of the den. 
 
 " A'm danged if a' knows," replied the man : " this is very purty doins 
 tho.' I heerd a screech of a woman ; so, thinks I, they're ill using on her, 
 and a' wanted to cum in and zee — but the door wor fast ; so I shoves in, and 
 sees that dom'd villian a' kicking of she, whoile t'other wench wor a lacing 
 away wi' the stoup ; so a' catches her off ov 'un, and guvs he a kick-like in 
 return — that's all a' knows : git some water for the poor thing, will'ee, Muster ? 
 A' wish a'd bin here zooner, dang me but I'd ha' — whoy — no, it can't — yes it 
 is — whoy it's missus ! by the livin' daylight !" 
 
 The change which, as we have seen, had been effected in the dress of Madge 
 since Roger Haynes, for it was he, had seen her, had prevented his recognising 
 in the prostrate female his quondam mistress. Instinctively, too, in order to 
 escape the dreaded blows, she had turned her face, covered with blood, and 
 disfigured with scratches and contused wounds, towards the ground ; and this, 
 added to the other injuries, put immediate identification of the wretched 
 object'of their brutal maltreatment, out of the question. Roger raised the 
 
 (i) Seizo Lim (2) Black his eyes. (3) Go ; be off. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 253 
 
 head of the senseless wretch in his arms, wiped the gore from her face, and 
 satisfied himself the victim was no other than Madge. The landlord entered 
 with a bowl. Nan — for she had not come off scatheless — lay panting on a 
 settle, still venting curses, not loud, but deep, on the object of her implacable 
 revenge. 
 
 " I'll have her soul," growled the drunken fury ; " let me at her ;'' and she 
 scrambled towards Madge, with the pewter still grasped in her hand. 
 
 Roger was kneeling beside Madge ; he caught the reeling Bacchante by 
 the leg, and she fell heavily and stunningly against a settle. 
 
 Mister Lively had gained his feet and sneaked out, and the other thief 
 quietly followed his example. Madge was partly recovered with a supply of 
 brandy. The landlord sent into King Street for a conveyance, in which, 
 having safely deposited the wounded woman, Roger, by his advice, had her 
 conveyed home. The wounds were many and severe ; but Madge's temperate 
 mode of life for many months, and her strong constitution, triumphed over 
 the injuries ; and leaving her gradually to attain convalescence, we will return 
 to follow the steps of other actors in our motley scenes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 I know how to love, and to make that love known, 
 
 But I hate all protesting and urguing ; 
 Had a goddess my heart, she should e'en lie alone, 
 
 If she made many words to the bargain. 
 Long courtship's the vice of your phlegmatic fool, 
 
 Like the grace of fanatical sinners, 
 Where the stomachs are lost, and the victuals grow cool, 
 
 Before men sit down to their dinners. 
 
 —Matthew Concanen. 
 
 That was your business — 
 No artful prostitute, in falsehood practised, 
 To make advantage of her coxcombs' follies, 
 Could have done more. 
 
 —The Orphan.— Otway. 
 
 Several months had rolled by, and Time, in its revolutions, had brought, 
 as it has always done, change to all the dwellers on the ever-rolling earth. 
 
 The barmaid at the Garter, near Scarborough, will perhaps be remembered by 
 the reader, as an admirer of Captain Darcy. A coquette rather from circum- 
 stances than disposition, her situation in a well-frequented inn was, perhaps, 
 the most dangerous that could well be supposed for one of her temperament. 
 The poet has libelled the softer sex, by declaring that 
 
 Every woman is at heart a rake. 
 
 Without assenting to the sweeping libertinism of this assertion, we may 
 safely say that Marian Glover teas one. She was of that class of women who 
 wait only to be wooed and won ; and, disappointed of Darcy, (who had cer- 
 tainly awakened what with such a woman passes for love, though a less dig- 
 nified name would better become it,) she had resolved to follow him to town 
 on the first opporlunity which should present itself; for thither he had told 
 her he was going, when he last kissed the ready-tear from her eye-lid at 
 
254 
 
 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 their parting. That she was vain, fond of dress, and accessible to flattery, were 
 her failings; but to balance these, she was generous, frank, and warm- 
 hearted • and lastly, to her own misfortune, she possessed a pretty face, of 
 that order of female beauty which maybe termed the piquant; — a beauty 
 which attracts only while the brilliancy of eye and bloom of cheek are re- 
 fined a beauty, which, depending not on regularity of feature, or intelligence 
 
 of expression, ceases to attract so soon as vivacity abates, the first fresh dew 
 of youthfulness exhales from the lip, and the fawn-like elasticity of the step 
 sobers down to the gait of staid womanhood. Marian, once resolved to see 
 London, did not wait long for an opportunity to put her scheme in practice. 
 She possessed not those quiet domestic affections which render a separation 
 from home painful to the young heart ; no — she panted far what she thought 
 liberty ■ became querulous at parental control, however mildly and consi- 
 derately exercised ; fancied every restraint irksome ; and resolved to take the 
 first offer that might present itself, to free herself from what she considered an 
 ignominious thraldom, unendurable by a woman of her spirit and beauty; for, 
 
 If ladies be but young and fair, 
 They have the gift to know it, 
 
 was no less true in the time of the philosophic Jaques, or in that of the 
 first George, than it is in the reign of the first Victoria. 
 
 In this state of mind, Marian pursued the usual tenor of her way, flirting 
 and coquetting with every visiter who might make an advance ; and in such 
 a place it would have been wonderful indeed if so silly a moth had not singed 
 its wings. A dapper Lieutenant, who had taken Scarborough on his return 
 from Edinburgh, where his regiment lay, sojourned a few days at the Garter. 
 Like most of bis profession, especially in those days, Lieutenant Crosbie 
 possessed little cash, and, as far as women were concerned, less principle. 
 He was a soldier of fortune, and acted up to the maxim of finding a wife 
 wherever opportunity offered. The forward and tempting Marian confided 
 to him her desire of seeing the great city : and the gallant Lieutenant not 
 only encouraged her design, which jumped with his own desires, but offered 
 to escort her thither. The offer was accepted, and Marian, after packing up 
 a few trifles from her wardrobe, and making free with a considerable amount 
 of loose cash, gave her plethoric, bottle-nosed papa the slip, and, under the 
 protection of the gay Lieutenant, sought the metropolis. 
 
 The cnaracters of Marian and her paramour were, of course, not calculated 
 or a permanent cohabitation. Nay, nothing could be farther from the 
 intention of both parties than a life-long union. Marian wanted a protector 
 on her voyage of discovery, and had no objection to the lieutenant ; though 
 her preference was strongly rooted for Darcy, to seek out whom was the main 
 object of her visit to London. She had, however, miscalculated the doctrine 
 of probabilities and possibilities, which a better acquaintance with the human 
 wilderness would have taught her ; viz., that to look for such an individual as 
 our friend Tom in London, bore no comparison, in the chances of success, to 
 the figurative search so popularly described as " seeking a needle in a bottle 
 of hay." Luck, fortune, chance, or what you will, however, did better for her 
 than she had a right to expect. 
 
 The lieutenant, now cooled in his first ardours, began to remit greatly in 
 his attentions, and to look, as such rouej ever do, on women, who thus, 
 
 As men should do a cucumber, 
 Just throw themselves away ; 
 
DICK TURPTtf. 255 
 
 indeed, he scrupled not to let Marian see that he regarded her as an encumbrance, 
 — a let on his pleasures, during his short leave of absence from his duties. A few 
 private sparrings sufficed to mature the distaste into aversion ; and after a quarrel 
 rather sharper than usual, the " ill-used" Marian, for so she thought herself, 
 withdrew from the "protection" of Lieutenant Crosbie, and took lodgings 
 near Chelsea, in the vicinity of Ranelagh, where she encouraged lovers 
 
 — — W the plural number, 
 Not finding the additions much encumber. 
 
 One night, as she returned from the scene of folly and dissipation, unaccom- 
 panied, save by her own thoughts, which were depressed in proportion to the 
 exuberant hilarity she had forced during the evening, she was overtaken, near 
 the turning leading to her lodgings, by a well dressed man, who politely 
 offered his escort. Marian first looked at the lace of his coat, and the glitter- 
 ing buckles on his instep — then the hanging buttons from his wrist ruffles, and 
 lastly at his smart cocked hat and cut steel sword. Her professional survey 
 told her that these bespoke the gentleman ; one, at least, who was " good for''' a 
 guinea or so. As her finances were sadly diminished she refused not, but 
 accepted his preferred arm ; they repaired to her home — and there the 
 gentleman discovered himself as — the long-sought Captain Darcy. The next 
 day was past pleasantly. Woman's preference is a strange and wayward thing 
 — a problem which the man who shall attempt to solve---a mystery, which the 
 man who shall say he can fathom — must be labouring under an extraordinary 
 amount of delusion and self-conceit. 
 
 The pleasure of Marian, at meeting the. object of her girlish choice, was 
 not less sincere and ardent for that she had, since first that preference was 
 awakened, become a " vile polluted thing ;" and now she discovered in 
 her quondam lover, a reckless outlaw, her affection seemed to be excited to a 
 strouger heat ; and she thought that she could love — even more warmly than 
 she had ever done the dashing Captain Darcy — the bold Tom King, the 
 highwayman. Such a paradox is woman ! 
 
 We will now leave Tom in amorous dalliance with his ladye-love, to look 
 after our hero. 
 
 From the purlieus of Westminster, on the night of the affray at the George, 
 Dick betook himself to the eld scene of his earlier revels. He threaded his 
 way through the half-lighted streets near Covent Garden, occasionally ren- 
 dered still more gloomy by the horn lantern borne by the watchman, or some 
 casual passenger : the dirty and scorched sides of these apologies for lamps, 
 being rendered still more opaque by frequent blotches of brown, imparting 
 a tortoise-shell hue, the said blotches being occasioned by the falling of the 
 inclosed candle against its sides, from the sleep, intoxication, or carelessness 
 of its bearer. One of the ancient watchmen, those drab-coated, peripatetic 
 horologes, was shuffling along before him through a street which led to Long 
 Acre. This phenomenon, whose murky lantern, " the light of other days, has 
 faded'' and * paled its uneffectual fire" before the blaze of lucent gas — whose 
 
 Mighty pole 
 Has been uprooted from the firm-set earth, 
 
 to make way for the succinct lignum vitas of the policeman's truncheon — was, 
 in the time of Turpin, a thing of life — 
 
 Doomed for a certain term to walk tin night ; 
 
256 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 but now, alas ! slain by the hand of Peel, no more permitted to 
 
 Revisit the pale glimpses of the moon, 
 Making night hideous 
 
 with his unmelodious announcement of the march of time. We love the 
 memory of the ancient Charley; there was a bonhommie even in his scroundrel- 
 ism, as displayed in the song of Dibdin ; (which by the bye we have always 
 considered a libel on that ancient race ;) but we hold no sympathywith the spruce 
 blue-coat of the modern policeman. He speaks not of patient vigils, he looks 
 more like the soldier than the patrol ; that spry, act-ive, red or black whiskered 
 gentleman, with a stiff stock, chatting at the corner with Sally our servant 
 maid, cannot be the watchman ! No, no, tell that to the marines: he does not 
 look like one, or the English language has lost its meaning. He belongs to the 
 "force," and what Englishman can associate, how can he amalgamate the 
 idea of force with his mind's eye picture of t a watchman ? We feel grateful, 
 when the " last of the Charlies" expired by act of parliament, Sir Robert 
 had the cruel mercy, the assassin-kindness, to spare the last blow ; and while 
 annihilating the dynasty, did not allow the usurpers of their " beats,'' to 
 continue their style and title : — " constable," if you please, though that sounds 
 oddly, but not watchman. We look along the vista of memory, and see the dim 
 shadowing of drab-coats,the huge red comforters and woollen night-caps,the mis- 
 fitting shoes, the mighty crabsticks of " the days that are gone, and the men 
 who bore them :" we think on the low crowned hat, stuffed with a wisp of 
 hay, enveloped in a cloth, furnished by the ancient crone who " bore the 
 honoured name of wife," to the sleepless old man — the aforesaid hay being 
 a prudent protection to the head of the watchman against the blows on the 
 pate which perchance some Corinthian Tom or Jerry Hawthorn, on " frolic 
 mischief bent," might inflict on his dull crauium : we see the Diogenes 
 snoozing cosily in his small and tub-like domus, with lantern by his side 
 ready, like the philosopher of old, to look for a " honest man ;" seeing 
 that it was his principle, like his mighty prototypes Dogberry and Verges, to 
 " comprehend" the honest men, for " to have to do with false knaves were 
 indeed a pity :" we scent the odour of cheese and onions, with perchance the 
 flavour of a " dash of jimakey/' from the small pocket pistol, brought at eleven 
 by the ministering hand of her who owned him : we hear his strange un- 
 earthly voice — a voice so contrived, as not. to distress his wheezing lungs, loud, 
 yet indistinct, and unvarying : throughout the night punctually doth the 
 wanderer announce unintelligibly an announcement wherein nothing is an- 
 nounced, save the existence of some living creature — yet methinks 
 
 No creature 
 But a wandering voice ; 
 
 and thus year after year, " through summer's heat and winter's cold," did that 
 " old man wonderful" discourse sounds without articulate word or meaning : 
 we see his coat with its literal inscription — its " S. P. C." or " S. M. L." 
 with its subjoined number — and we look with scorn on the one letter which 
 bespeaks the divisional degeneracy of these later days : we miss his red 
 pauper-face at Christmas, albeit he came among many duns ; and seeing and 
 hearing all this with the eyes and ears of memory, can we look on the trim 
 file of soldier-booted, oil-caped, whalebone-hatted, formalities, now marching 
 past our windows, and say " there go ihe watchmen?" Alas! No— 
 
DICK Tl'KPIN. 
 
 '257 
 
 Dick Buyer's visit to Marian Glover. 
 
 they are gone! Home Secretaries may prate, committees report, honour- 
 able members speechify, and utilitarians bray about improvement ; but we 
 have yet a corner in our heart for the watchman with which our mother 
 threatened us when refractory, and whose drowsy voice, heard " oft in the 
 stilly night,'' gave a charm, even in the idea that there was a waking thing 
 beside yourself, which the "dumb dogs" who have displaced them must have 
 many yetundiscovered merits to counterbalance. In short, we liked the old parish 
 watchman; it is our prejudice, and we will keep it — our hobby, and we will 
 ride it. He had many failings, but his habits'and his manners spoke of the 
 " irregular freedom" of England, not the formal, centralized despotism of 
 France ; and in " the deep damnation of his taking off," modern innovation 
 has much to answer for. 
 
 Sir Thomas Browne quaintly denounceth those " rascally ancients who 
 have stolen our best thoughts from us;" the reproach of those who have 
 truly occupied the field and engrossed the highest glories of literature, is, 
 however, (with all due deference to the learned and facetious author of "Vulgar 
 Errors," and that delightful book on " Urn Burial,") more plausible than true. 
 Originality, the stamp of genius in the highest degree, is eternal and inexhausti- 
 ble ; and even in the lower walks, the observant eye will never lack subjects in 
 the ceaseless mutations of manners, laws, customs, politics, feelings, opinion : 
 in a world where everything is uncertain save the certainty of change, fresh 
 food for thought, fresh material 
 No. 33. 
 
 for the pen, and new fields for the investi- 
 
368 DICK TtfRPIN. 
 
 gation of science, will never fail, 'till rolling years shall cease to move.' And 
 now, having overtaken not only our ancient Charlev, but even given the go- 
 by to the times in which he lived — such power has the " fine essence'" of 
 thought to annihilate time and space — we will let our hero overtake him too, 
 at least so far as the physical part of him is concerned. 
 
 Turpin stepped to the side of the muffled guardian of the night. A sudden 
 thought had struck him, that, in the event of Madge intending to play false, 
 it would be unwise to resort to the White Hart; for it was but probable that 
 there she might seek him. 
 
 " That old rap," said he, mentally, " knows every place of accommodation 
 about here ; the simplest course, in these cases, is generally the deepest and 
 safest." 
 
 He tapped him on the shoulder. The old man peered beneath the brim 
 of his battered hat, and seeing a well-dressed person, touched it respectfully. 
 
 41 Can you direct me to a bed about here ?" asked Dick. 
 
 A wheezing cough attacked the ancient rogue — for experience had taught 
 him the wisdom of the serpent. Profound was the meaning of that old 
 man's cough ; it covered a design worthy of the celebrated shake of the head of 
 the great Lord Burleigh — and that design we will now disclose. Firstly it was, 
 that the well-dressed questioner might be moved thereby to " stand a summut'' 
 to liquor his distressed throttle ; and secondly, to gain time for calculating, 
 from the manner, appearance, &c, of the querist, the character of the house 
 of entertainment to which he should usher him — seeing that this was an 
 important consideration, materially affecting the probable gratuity for his 
 civility. 
 
 " Humbly ax pardon, your honour — ugh— ugh— ugh — afeard it's that I am, 
 as the best houses on the whole entire beat is jist shut up — ugh~ugh~ugh — 
 maybe, but they is rayther high in the way of comin' it over sthrange gint at that 
 same crib — hot-el I mane — ugh— ugh— ugh— ugh— ugh ;" and this time the 
 queasy gullet of the afflicted old fellow rattled and shook in a way that might 
 have " made milch the eye of heaven," so acutely asthmatic were the tearings 
 and hawkings of that poor old man. 
 
 " You've a bad cold, friend," said Dick ; " show us a house, an J I'll stand 
 something warm ; for there's a vile fog, which I've no doubt you would 
 wish to keep out." 
 
 " God bless and persarve yer honner's wurtchip, and glory to the last day 
 in your honnerable life, and after that's over, ses Terence M'Grah ;'' and he 
 gave a short cough just to save appearances. " Here's an illigant house all out, 
 jist down beyant here — troth, in the same's a house as won't turn its back on 
 any one in the Garden, or elsewhere for that matther, in regard of the liquors 
 they kape. This way, yer honner : long life t'ye !" and Terence, with obse- 
 quious activity, lighted the steps of Turpin, by walking a little in advance of 
 him, and throwing the glimmer of his lantern on the footpath immediately 
 before him. 
 
 They turned from James' Street into Hart Street, at the top of which was 
 situated the " night house," spoken of by Terence. 
 
 It was a low building, with an overhanging front, the shutters and door 
 were closed, but a dull light which appeared through the dirty glass over the 
 doorway told that the inmates had not yet retired to rest. Terence applied 
 his ear to the kej-hole, looked at the light before mentioned, then, shortening 
 his hold of his huge crabstick, he dealt three distinct talismanic knocks on 
 
DICK TURPIN. 25 
 
 the oaken door. The bolt was drawn, and Terence bowed our hero to the 
 bar. The first, and most important affair, (at least so Terence considered it,) 
 was despatched, namely, a half-quartern of jimakey, to relieve the " configu- 
 rashun," as he termed it, and Turpin looked around. Pallid prostitutes, 
 whom the bright carmine and skin-eroding ceruse rendered ghastly to all save 
 the hot-blooded intoxicated rakes who were plying them with liquor, stood in 
 little groups before the counter, on which were several small rough and un- 
 painted kegs, bearing the inscriptions of " Right Nantz" — " Choke-devil 
 Schiedam " — " Madam Gin," and, lastly, " Old Tom," the only name which 
 has survived the mutations even of drunkenness. Between the casks were placed 
 three iron candlesticks, each containing a flaring dip, and from the ceiling 
 depended a lamp, fashioned like an oil-can, and nearly resembling those still 
 seen in the lowest market-stalls of London. Striking was the contrast 
 which the place offered to the splendour of a modern gin palace. The ap- 
 pearance of Turpin was the signal for one or two of the nymphs of the pavs 
 to quit their swains — whom they had discovered to be pei.nyless, or unwilling 
 to furnish them with more liquor — and to besiege the stranger with impor- 
 tunities. Terence did not interfere with them, lor many a sly sixpence did 
 he pick up from these unfortunate outcasts as the price of his blindness or 
 deafness to their peccadilloes. Turpin, however, cut them short by enquiring 
 for a bed, to which the landlord assenting, he, after ordering a treat, to the 
 extent of a shilling's-worth of juniper, for the unfortunates, got rid of 
 further annoyance by stepping into an apartment inscribed "Parlour," to 
 which tlie females were not allowed the privilege of the entree. Though it 
 was so late, a group of three men still clustered about the fire ; they were 
 seedy, yet their habiliments had that smartness of cut, their hair that extrava- 
 gance of growth, and their hats that knowing half-swellish cock, and their looks 
 that yngentlemanly assurance, which bespeaks a blackguard out of the com- 
 mon and vulgar run — a rapscallion, in short, of a somewhat more intellectual 
 breed than the mere duffer, thimble-rigger, or prig. Turpin soon found, from 
 their large talk, vulgar consequence, parroted quotations, and empty assump- 
 tion, that he had fallen among some strolling players, who were bent the 
 following morn on a voyage to Greenwich, then and there to enact some 
 horrid and unexampled tragedy. 
 
 " Well thought on," said Dick, mentally ; " I'll go to Greenwich myself." 
 
 He finished his glass, and retired to bed. 
 
 Dick, like all other great men, (do not smile, reader, if word-mongers have 
 taught yo'i, for their own selfish and anti-educational purposes, to confound 
 the terms good and great, and great and good,) was an early riser ; and before 
 any of his snoring fellow lodgers had yawned off their first drunken slumber, 
 and, like the sluggard of Solomon, had turned themselves with a cry of a 
 "little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to sleep," he started 
 eastward. Arrived at Wapping, he " cast his slough" at a Jew slopseller's, and 
 in a new skin stepped on board a fishing smack, which, at " top of tide,'' now 
 waited the chance of making a few shillings by dropping passengers to Green- 
 wich, on this great festive occasion, for it was now Easter Sundav. 
 
 Let not the Agnewites start: we say Easter Sunday. Your advocates for 
 the bitter observance of the Sabbath ; your pharisaic, uncharitable, neigh- 
 bour-annoying, thank-God-I-am-not-as-other-men humbugs; your prating, 
 preaching, canting, street-corner-praying ignoramuses, who measure religioui 
 fervour by intolerant excitement, spiritual gifts by the lack of practical cb»ritjk, 
 
2G0 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 and tbeir heavenly acquirement* in an inverse ratio fci their ignorance; these 
 mischievous meddlers, (for "fools rush in wheie angels fear to tread,") will 
 tell you that God's judgments (of which tkeij ate the interpreters !) are rife 
 throughout the land, because of the. desecration of the Sabbath day. The 
 author has now a writer before him, who describes the houses of entertainment 
 in St. George's Fields, at Chelsea, and other places, crowded with drunken 
 men and women on the current Sabbath days; while on Easter Sunday, the 
 principal street of Greenwich was full of men who, with bottle in hand, in- 
 vited " the sailors and their punks'' to take a glass of " right Geueva ;'" and 
 the highway was filled with fighting drunkards, •' both men and women.'' 
 
 But it is necessary, even at the risk of tediousness, to describe the attire 
 of our hero. Before leaving Wapping, he had equipped himself in the quilted 
 petticoat, the broad leathern belt, and the hat with flving band of ribbon 
 which marked the sailor in the time of Sir Cloudesley Shovel ; long woollen 
 stockings, buckled shoes, and a stout stick beneath his arm, completed the 
 " rig-out '' of our jolly jack tar. 
 
 The scene, however, which we have above adverted to, had not yet filled 
 the street. Indeed it was not 'till noon, or after, that the motley group of 
 holiday-making mechanics, apprentices, thieves, prostitutes, hawkers, spirit 
 vendors, and gambling sharps, would get into full play. Now and again a 
 lad and lassie gay, were met as he strolled into the principal street from the 
 *' Ship Tavern " stair*, now obliterated and rased from the book of things 
 that be, by the new landing-place and steam-pier. 
 
 Turpin rolled up tha street, his appetite whetted by a dram he had taken 
 with the skipper, and was casting his eyes about in search of a house where 
 a luncheon might be procured, when he observed a dashing specimen of the 
 feminine gender linked arm-h-i-arm with as dashing a ditto of the male sex as 
 you would wish to criticise on a fine day. He looked dubiously at them as 
 they approached — doubt gave place to certainty — it was Tom King ! and she 
 — it must be she — he had seen her before, but where ? 
 
 A courteous bow from Dick, was acknowledged by a stare from the lady — 
 and a grasp of the hand frcm Tom. To see Dick in a disguise, did not 
 astonish him ; but to meet him thus, was both gratifying and surprising. 
 
 "My friend, Mr. Lindsay," said Tom readily, with a wink at Turpin. 
 
 They were soon housed ; a jolly lunch, a stinging glass of ale, a digester 
 of Cognac, and a minute's whisper, put the two friends in good humour with 
 each other and the world. 
 
 To tell how they enjoyed the sports of knock-'em-down, the fortune-telling 
 on the Heath, the down-hill rollings of the Park — and how Marian was de- 
 lighted with the tragedy and the " mechanical motions,'' to see which Tom 
 treated her, with the jokes, practical and verbal, of the merry and licentious 
 mob, and the fiddle and hop at the " Ship," with which the night's amuse- 
 ments concluded, would be tedious — suffice it to say that, through that and 
 the following three days, they " kept it up ;" and on Thursday returned, less 
 merry, less rich, and no wiser, to the great city. 
 
 King had gone, by appointment, to the Red Lion in Aldersgate Street, to 
 meet Dick, " anent and concerning,'' as the Scotch lawyers phrase it, certain 
 " acts and deeds to be done and executed ;" and Marian sat alone in her 
 chamber, at the furnished lodgings she then occupied. Tom, though her 
 '* fancy," was by no means lord and master thereof ; at least, not to that 
 extent of eeignory thut a "friend," who might visit the fair Marian, would be 
 
DICK TURP1N. 261 
 
 excluded from a visit. A rap at the door, and an enquiry for " Miss 
 Groves," showed that the gentleman knew her " travelling name;" and the 
 parlv was, at her request, desired to walk in. 
 
 He was a vulgar-looking man, though showily dressed — but Marian had 
 learned hot to be squeamish ; for she had found that ladies of her profession 
 were indeed slaves; and that there was no limit to the degradation which 
 woman entails on herself by the one false step. She therefore tried her 
 blandest smile, and placed the gentleman in a seat. 
 
 " Will ye take a glass ?" said he, abruptly, thrusting a hand into the pocket 
 of his leather riding-breeches; " l*ve got a crown as never was spent — beg 
 your pardon, Miss;" and the fellow rose, and popping himself down on a sofa 
 bv the side of Marian, placed his arm behind her. " Why \ou don't mean to 
 sav, as because I'm a friend o' your friend, as that's any reason why — " and 
 he stole a kiss. Marian pretended offence. The stranger again dived his 
 hand into the pocket, and pulled out some silver, mixed with guineas and 
 seven-shilling pieces. She caught sight of the gold. "He's a hawbuck, 1 ' 
 thought Marian; and she resolved to make use of him accordingly. Liquor 
 was brought in ; as they drank, her objection to the visitor wore off, and 
 they fell into commonplace chat. Marian preferred punch, which the stranger, 
 on the plea of his great skill in compounding it, mixed himself. Its effects 
 were extraordinary ; for scarcelv had Marian drank a second or third glass, 
 when she felt herself in a whirl of intoxication. The truth was, that the 
 cunning scoundrel had drugged the mixture ; and she became, without being 
 aware of it, immensely talkative. The stranger plied her with the liquor; 
 and the silly woman was soon so far beside herself as to chat with him as if he 
 had been her most confidential friend. 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder," observed the man, still doing the amorous, " that 
 you thought me a rum sort of chap ; I'm a good 'un though, when I take a 
 fancy. Ask Tom if I ain't — why, lord bless you, many's the time that he and 
 I and Dick have heen out together, he's said to me says he, ' Bill — ' " 
 
 " What, do you know Dick, then, as well ; dearee me, I never thought — 
 now you won't tell, will you ?" 
 
 " Me tell !" said the visitor, reproachfully ; then kissing her ; " Me tell — . 
 do you think any of the right lot ever — " 
 
 " Then you won't tell if 1 tell," said Marian ; " do you know Tom only 
 left me this morning — we've been these three days at Greenwich, and had 
 such fun ; oh dear, how my head swims !'" 
 
 " Take a little water," said Bayes, proffering a glass ; for he feared he had 
 overdone it. 
 
 " I didn't reckon though as he'd have gone away this morning without 
 waiting for me, seeing he'd promised not to go till I came. However, it's all 
 for the best, as the old song says, for when the cat is out the mice may play ; 
 and so can you and I, pretty Marian." 
 
 " I'd thank you to keep your distance, sir," said Marian, repulsing his 
 familiarity, with assumed indignation, for the water had slightly sobered her. 
 The stranger tried some coaxing, and the woman was soon soothed. 
 
 " When do you expect Torn back?'' asked he, as if it was a matter of in- 
 difference. 
 
 " Oh, there's no fear of that," answered Marian, quite mistaking the object 
 of the question. M He and Dick are going off for a day or two. He pro- 
 mised I should meet him this evening in A ldersgate-street." 
 
2(52 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 ** I'm aura they'll both be cursedly vexed that I'm not with 'em. My 
 ame's Rose, Bill Rose ; you've heard 'em speak of me, no doubt .'" 
 
 Marian did not clearly remember whether she had or had not. But the 
 ame seemed familiar, so she said M Yes." 
 
 " Oh, do you know that my Tom — I always call him my Tom ; he'd be 
 jealous though, I shouldn't wonder, if you went with me to the Red Lion, 
 so we wont go together." 
 
 The stranger had arrived at the information he desired, and withdrawing 
 his arm from the waist of Marian, fidgetted about, urged her to drink more, 
 which she declined, and exhibited such unequivocal signs of an intention to 
 depart, that Marian grew vexed that she had shown such entertainment to so 
 shabby a visitor. All her hints at expecting some compliment were parried 
 by the strange gentleman ; and he took himself off rather abruptly, with a 
 promise that he would see her again on the following da\ — important, though 
 till that moment, forgotten business, compelling his departure. 
 
 The door was slammed soundly after him by the indignant slattern, who 
 acted as servant maid ; for a recognition of the gentleman by that personage 
 had put out of question any request for a gratuity. 
 
 The girl hastened up stairs to Marian. 
 
 " Lord bless me, doesn't, you know who that swell is ; eh ? I didn't 
 see him, for missis let him in ; and she should ha' let him out again for me 
 if I'd ha' twigged him. Please to remember the servant ! I was just 
 going to say, till I jest looked in his ugly face — why that's Dick Bayes the 
 grabsman ; what could he want with you, miss?" 
 
 Marian was alarmed, her head was by no means clear in ordinary cases of 
 difficulty, and this piece of information paralysed her. She tried to recollect 
 what she might have said to the man, but she could only recal one point ; 
 viz. that she had divulged to the pretended Bill Rose the place at which 
 Turpin and King would meet. 
 
 She stood a few seconds with her head grasped between her hands. 
 
 "Oh say you're mistaken, Kitty! what, what, shall I do ? they'll both be 
 taken and hanged ; my foolishtongue will cause it all !" and she burst into a 
 flood of tears ; for Marian was easily excited and easily appeased, liKe all 
 persons who want strength and decision of character. 
 
 " It ain't no use saying I'm mistaken, when I ain't," replied the servant, 
 who stood with dirty face and sympathising look, as much perplexed as her 
 mistress ; " I've seed him scores o' times, when I was slavey * at missus 
 Jacobs's in Shire lane. Law bless you he was used to be there with old 
 Polly Bedford as died i' the Lane years agone, when I was a kinchint. I 
 knows Dick Bayes too well ; he nabbed my fancy man, and I've liked him like 
 pie 1 ever sence." 
 
 "Tell me what I shall do," exclaimed Marian, ; "he knows all, they'll both 
 be taken — and I — ," and Marian, really mistaking herself for a woman of 
 intense feeling, fell down on the sofa and sobbed hysterically. 
 
 " What ! the captain ?" asked the girl. " Captain Darcy ?" for his liberality 
 and good looks had made him a favourite. *' Have you stoppered $ him. 
 Where is he — I'll put him dowu to loap j| the grab yet." 
 
 • Servant. t Child. 
 
 X A slang metonymy — signifying that the speaker wt-uld have no objection to 
 ■tick a knife in the party spoken of. 
 ( Cut short the career of. g Get away from. Give the alip. 
 
DICK TUHP1N. 263 
 
 " No ! no ! replied Marian, starting up;" I'll go myself. I shall yet be in 
 time to put him on his guard ; run, Kitty, and bring me my clogs, and my 
 b<>od. I'll go myself: oh my poor head — how could I be such a fool?' 
 Mmuttering self-condemning incoherences Marian attired herself for her 
 ailventure ; and with swimming head and confused brain set out from 
 Brompton on her endeavour to repair the mischief she had thus unwittingly 
 committed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 What mighty ills have not been done by woman t 
 Who was't betrayed the Capitol 1 a woman, 
 Who lost Mark Antony the world ? a woman, 
 Who was the cause of a long ten years war, 
 And laid at last old Troy in ashes? Woman. 
 Destructive, damnable deceitful woman I 
 Woman, to man first as a blessing given, 
 When innocence and love were in their prime, 
 Happy awhile in Paradise they lay 
 But quickly woman long'd to go astray, 
 Some foolish new adventure fain must prove. 
 And the first devil she saw she changed her love, 
 To his temptation, lewdly she inclined 
 And lor a single apple damned mankind. 
 
 Otwfty. 
 
 O malignant and 111 boding star, 
 
 Away ! vexation almost stops my breath I 
 
 Thus sundered friends greet in the hour of death, — 
 
 Farewell 1 no more my fortune can 
 
 But curse the cause— I cannot aid the man. 
 I'll tell thee now, how, thou shall make cxcape 1 
 By sudden flight, come, dally not, begone. 
 
 Henry vi. act. iv. sc. t. 
 
 Marian walked briskly on, through lanes skirted with quickset, 
 and through the grounds of the great market gardens, then covering the 
 space now occupied by the formal and uniform brick houses of Chelsea, 
 Sloane-Btreet, and the ditto Square : for all the places, rows, and streets 
 rejoicing in the name of Cadogan, as yet were not; and the mighty congre- 
 gation of bricks and mortar now loading that portion of the elay of our 
 common mother, known as Brompton, Chelsea, Kensington, &c, as yet took 
 no place among the things that be. The ground was, to a great extent, as the 
 maps of the environs show, dotted with the residences of noblemen and 
 gentlemen, whose names still live in the rows and places which have dis- 
 figured the spots once sacred as the grounds of my Lord This or Sir Erasmus 
 That. Much, however, of these lands were laid out in market gardens ; for 'tis 
 easy to tell when profit battles with the pride of peerage, artichokes with 
 aristocrats, or cabbages with coronets, what will be the result of the contest. 
 Pride succumbs to pence, bricks weigh down the baron, applewomen outvote 
 ancestry, dukes are postponed to demand, marquises cede their pleasant 
 places to murphies and retire before the energy of industry to preserve 
 procul profani the empty dignity of exclusiveness in some more remote part 
 of the land. 
 
2tfl DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Through this suburban district Marian had hastened, and now having 
 passed Hyde Park Corner, was wending her way along Piccadilly, when 
 she became aware of some person walking close behind her; the man, for it 
 was a military tread, kept close for a few yards, and then, as if half-assured of 
 her identity, stept up to her, and peering beneath her bonnet, said, " Bless 
 me, my dear Miss Groves (such was Marian's travelling name), how charm- 
 ingly rosy you look this morning. Stap my vitals, but I never a saw sm-h a 
 goddess, 'pan hanner. Will you deign to accept-a — of the arm of vour de- 
 voted slave-a," and the beardless Lieutenant D'Eresby, (by courtesy Captain,) 
 enlocked the hand of Marian within his elbow. 
 
 Captain D'Eresby was a silly youth — a scion of the aristocracy, and neither 
 wiser nor better than such spoilt cuhs of fortune usually are. Character he 
 had none, in either of the senses of the word ; but cash he had, and he put 
 it to the vilest, the silliest, and the most profligate uses. He aspired to the 
 character of a blood, though naturally a coward : had made the acquaint- 
 ance of Marian incidentally, and was just now, for want of some more useful 
 pursuit, persuading himself into the idea that she was a paragon of beauty, 
 and desperately fond of his own insignificant, self. Marian, equally empty, 
 undecided, and vicious, felt flattered, as well as profited by so rich and foolish 
 a cull — he prided himself in being seen promenading Piccadilly with a con- 
 fessedly fine woman, and she, having an eye to number one, postponed feeling 
 to lucre and convenience : inwardly, however, resolving that she would make 
 her best haste, as soon as she could decently get rid of him, to the rendezvous 
 of King and our hero. They chatted rapidly until they neared Burling- 
 ton-gardens. At the corner of Bond- street stood a confectionary and soup 
 house ; and into that, after some persuasion, her squire persuaded her to enter. 
 Here a short half hour was spent : when Marian, now recovering from the 
 effects of the drug administered by the cunning Dick Bayes, insisted upon 
 
 leaving the Captain — and she did so. 
 
 ******** 
 
 " Vill you puy any rhuparb, shpectacles, or sheals V said a miserable look- 
 ing Jew to two men, who sat in earnest conversation in the back parlour of 
 the Red Lion in Aldersgate-street. 
 
 " We don't want any, my good fellow," replied one, nettled at the inter- 
 ruption. " Can't you take an answer — or must I ring for the waiter to turn 
 you out ?" 
 
 " Praps de oder shentleman, vould puy I" said the pertinacious Israelite, 
 shoving his box before him. 
 
 " Isn't my friend's telling you to go, enough, and be hanged t» you V' re- 
 torted the other. 
 
 The Jew turned away, and moved towards the door ; yet whoever had seen 
 the demoniac twinkle of his black eye, and the mean expression of treachery, 
 and selfishness on that contemptible face might have read mischief. The 
 pedlar was our quondam acquaintance Mishter Solomons, of Houndsditch: and 
 the companions were Turpin and King. 
 
 " Tish all as right as a trivit, Mshter Bayes," said the jew, as he 
 joined three men, who waited at the corner of an inn-yard, some little dis- 
 tance from the house. " Dey're both on 'em a talking at de table in de left 
 hand corner of de roomsh : plesh me, I vaited and vaited viles I could get 
 dem to shpeak, for I knows Mishter Dick's shound of de voish veil — and shall 
 never forgit it," added the Jew, sotto voce, with a shudder, as he thought on 
 
DICK TL'UIMN. 
 
 265 
 
 The Duut.li of Turn King. 
 
 the night of Sir Littnn's Heath, and the horrors of the pillory, then plucked 
 the cap over his earless scull. 
 
 " What the devil keeps Bill Johnson and his runner T can't think," said 
 Bayes, testily ; for truth to say, he feared the consequences of an attempt, 
 with the force then present, to capture the highwaymen. His two assistants he 
 might depend on, but upon the Jew he could not calculate — he knew him to be a 
 thief, and he doubted not he was a coward. Besides, it would be necessary 
 to have one man to guard the exit from the rear, while he, with at least two 
 others, should enter at the front. He stamped hastily and vexedly — steadily 
 eyeing the door of the house from his post of observation. Muttered curses 
 occasionally escaped him. " Hallo ! what the devil's coming here V said he, 
 as a man in sleeves and a striped stable waistcoat led two spirited horses 
 from the corner of St. Ann's Lane, (then debouching at the lower end of the 
 narrow part of St. Martin's-le-Grand.) The man, who was no other than 
 Street, Tom King's cousin, stopped a few yards from the corner, and con- 
 signing the steeds to a shoeless urchin, walked towards the Red Lion. 
 " Why, d — t — n !" growled Bayes ; " that's Dick's black mare. Follow, Rob, 
 I must nail that fellow, or he'll blow the gaff,* and all the fat 'ill be ia 
 the fire at last." 
 
 Thus saying, Bayes, followed by his subordinate, hastened across the 
 street, and intercepted him just at the doorway of the Red Lion. " Stop!" 
 
 No. 34. 
 
 Betray the gecret. 
 
2G6 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 said the officer, collaring him, and producing his crowned staff — " you are 
 my prisoner." 
 
 Street changed colour ; as he looked at Bayes and his follower. 
 
 " May I go in V asked he, " to tell the gentlemen as their horses is — " 
 then recovering his surprise, he said, " but what am I your prisoner for, I'd 
 like to know V 
 
 " There's no need," said Bayes, sarcastically, " to trouble the gentlemen, 
 as you call them, till / announce their horses are ready : come, come, Mister 
 Street, I knows.you ; and if so be you've a mind to save your own scrag, you'll 
 give me, and these gemmen with me, as little trouble as need be ; 'com- 
 plices, you know, can be made safe, if so be they'll assist in windicating the 
 law upon the principals — eh, Mister Street, do you twig ?'' 
 
 Mr. Street did twig, as Bayes termed it ; for, without resisting, he walked 
 quietly across with them to the gateway. 
 
 " Now, Mister Street, d'ye see, there's enough on us here," and Bayes 
 pointed to Solomons and the other man, " to make all safe : you'll excuse me, 
 however, when I say that, to prevent mistakes, I must trouble you with the 
 ruffles ;" and Bayes handcuffed him ; a precaution rarely neglected in those 
 days. "We're waiting, Mr. Street," said the superior officer, with a wink, 
 " for a couple of friends, who will lend us a hand; as T don't wish the affair 
 to come off any way but so as *ull do credit to the skill of Richard Bayes, 
 — dy'e see ?'' and he winked and gave a chuckle at his own wit and 
 sagacity. 
 
 " You see, Mister Street," continued he, still in a chaffing tone ; **as my 
 force Can't nicely spare a man just now ; and moreover, as our acquaintance 
 is too short for me to trust you — you see I knows you — and it's no go to try 
 a shirk, I'll leave Sam with you, while I, Rob, and Mishter Solomons, 
 just take a look at the premises. Confound those fellows !" added he, in 
 another tone ; " where the deuce can they be !" 
 
 Mister Bayes looked up and down the street — no Bill Johnson nor his 
 man was in sight — he swore and swore again, but they came not. Two chair- 
 men, carrying a hack-sedan, trotted briskly by, the stout ash poles springing 
 beneath their load as they kept the active and measured step, which marked 
 the practised sedan-bearers. 
 
 " That's a James's Street chair," said Bayes, as he looked after it — "Why, 
 what the devil does this mean?" exclaimed he, as the strapping Irishmen 
 deposited their burden opposite the door of the Lion, and one of them, 
 with polite activity, raised the lid and unclosed the door of the little box in 
 which they had brought the fare. 
 
 Bayes walked hurriedly across, and so contrived to pass the party as she 
 alighted, as to obtain a view of her person. The start was mutual as their 
 eyes met. Marian Glover saw it was Dick Bayes, and Dick Bayes beheld 
 Marian Glover ! 
 
 " Confusion !" growled the thief-taker, as he recrossed the road at a jump 
 and three strides — " Rob, and be d—d to you, stick to my heels — Sam, 
 keep close — d — n the prisoner! Come on, Solly ! '' and the four hurried 
 towards the Lion, leaving Street unguarded and alone, a spectator of what 
 might happen next, but too much interested even to attempt escape, which, 
 he felt assured, must only lead to his recapture under less favourable circum- 
 stances. 
 
 We will now look into the parlour, where we left our hero and his comrade. 
 
 
DICK TURPIN. 207 
 
 " Street's late with the prads," observed Dick, looking at his watch — 
 ** 'tis past five, and he's seldom behind his time. We've a long ride befi re 
 us — three hours I should say — and we must not meet these people nearer than 
 St. Alban's." 
 
 " It's my notion, Dicky, that the fellow has been taking some precious 
 circumbendibus for fear of being watched — couzin Bill's rather lily livered, 
 
 though he talks large " The room door swung open suddenly, and 
 
 Marian, pale with terror, and gasping for breath, caught Tom by the arm. 
 
 " Hey-day, mv Molly-Ann !" said King, surprised at her looks — "what in 
 the name of Moses's mother does all this mean — ^show us the ghost, and 
 
 we'll " 
 
 " Fly ! fly ! Tom, for my sake — Bayes and a posse of officers are at the 
 
 door — and " 
 
 Dick looked at King with a bitter smile, and producing a pistol, quietly 
 cocked it. 
 
 " Rather unpleasant, I should say," said Tom, placing his back against the 
 room door, and doing the like with consummate coolness. " How many, 
 of 'em are there, my pretty Marian, eh I " 
 
 " Oh don't ask me — I don't know — I've seen none but him — oh the 
 odious wretch. I knew him again the moment I saw — " 
 
 Turpin gave a meaning look at Tom, and said, in a tore of reproach — 
 "These women, Tom, these women. This is no time to ask for explanation 
 — but Mister Bayes would not try it on alone — no, no; take time, by the 
 forelock, Tom — and — " 
 
 "Your horse stands at the corner, and yours," said Marian; "I saw a boy 
 holding them both." 
 
 " Bravo," said King; "that's the best news I've heard these five minutes. 
 Come on, Dick." 
 
 " Softly," said Turpin, arresting his arm; " stay a moment — a boy holding 
 them did you sav?" 
 
 " A ragged boy," answered Marian. 
 
 "Street is taken Tom, I see it now. One dash, Tom — down the first that 
 stops us — and to saddle — once mounted, and we'll forgive them if they take 
 us. Come ! '' 
 
 The friends walked suddenly into the passage. Entering the doorwav 
 was the worthy Mishter Sholomons ; who, urged by the threats of Bayes, and 
 the hope of reward, was about again to enter the room to gather information, 
 in his character of pedlar. A short cry of alarm and surprise escaped him, as 
 he met the highwaymen in the narrow entry. 
 
 "Take that, you Jew-thief;" cried King, dealing him a back-handed blow 
 on the mouth with the butt end of his whip, the pistol being grasped in his 
 left hand. Mishter Solomons measured his length on the ground. 
 
 Three yards lrom the door stood Bayes and his myrmidons. The cry of 
 the Jew and the rush of Turpin and King into the street were simultaneous. 
 They saw their horses, and made towards them. 
 
 "Nail 'em, boys!" cried Bayes, and the officers flew at their game, rendered 
 desperate by the chance of losing the valuable prize. 
 
 Rob had possessed himself of Dick's collar, while Bayes and Sam did the 
 same courtesy to King. There was a short and sharp struggle. 
 
 " That's for i/om," cried Turpin, as he threw his man heavily against the 
 large stone which stood on the edge of the hard pathway, for the conveniens 
 
268 DICK TURPI N. 
 
 of horsemen arriving or departing from the Red Lion ; for Aldersgate Street 
 was not then regularly paved. 
 
 The fellow lay stunned : Dick ran to his horse — grasped Bess's glorious 
 mane — vaulted into the saddle — and rode towards where Tom was scuffling 
 with the officers. Bayes was incomparably the stronger man, and had brought 
 our merry friend Tom into an unwonted position — he was on his knees ; and 
 the other thieftaker was trying to loose his hands from their grasp on Bayes's 
 collar. 
 
 " Hold out !" cried Dick in an encouraging voice ; * I'm here and safe ;'' 
 and edging Bess close to the group, he delivered a blow on the sconce of Sam, 
 that sent his head spinning, and brought sparkles from his eyes. 
 
 " Oh Lord !'' ejaculated the fellow ; and losing his grasp of King, he raised 
 both hands instinctively to his head, staggered a step or two, and fell. 
 
 The blow, however, cost Dick his weapon. The stout stock of his holster 
 pistol broke short to the barrel with the concussion, and Dick threw the 
 barrel at Bayes ; it struck him between the shoulders without serious effect. 
 Turpin drew his remaining weapon, and King sprung to his feet. 
 
 " Bullet him, Dick !'' cried King, making a desperate effort : Bayes bore 
 him down, and they rolled struggling in the road. It was now dusk, and a 
 turn or two on the ground rendered it difficult to distinguish friend from foe. 
 
 " Fire, Dick — damn it, fire !" gasped Tom, for he felt how much he was 
 overmatched. 
 
 Dick raised his weapon, and looked with steady eye along the barrel, for 
 he feare 1 much, in their continual shifts, he might hi; his friend. A whistle 
 was given, and a voice, some dozen yards off, shouted "Hoy! hoy!" 
 
 "Here, Bill, here! — help ! help! a rescue !"' exclaimed Bayes, holding 
 King between himself and Turpin, who, with finger on trigger, sat eyeing 
 his opportunity to fire. Another struggle and the men turned. There was 
 no time for hesitation — succour was at hand : the flint descended and the 
 heavy charge of slugs passed the ear of Bayes, lacerating it dreadfully, but buried 
 themselves in the breast of King. 
 
 " Done for, by God 1" cried King, in a tone of anguish, as he grasped his 
 left shoulder with his right hand. Bill Johnson, with two other officers, 
 came up. " Fly, Dick ; it's all up with me," and he sank into their arms. 
 
 " Farewell, Dick ! love to " the dying highwayman gasped — the death 
 
 rattle struggled in his throat — a shudder, a groan, and the gay Tom's ex- 
 pressive features settled into the changeless quietude of death. 
 
 " Fifty extra to the man that nails him !'' cried Bayes, as he rushed to- 
 wavds Bess's bridle. Turpin swayed his horse with a curvet, dashed his pis- 
 tol in the face of Bayes, — one spring of Bess cleared the officers, whose 
 bullets whizzed after him, and " away, away, on pinions that outstrip the wind/* 
 dashed Dick and his gallant steed. 
 
DICK TUHPIN. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 On we wont— I took no heed, 
 
 Hon? such a strange career would end : 
 I urged my barb to meteor speed, 
 
 But cured not where that speed might tend. 
 He sprung, lie flew, as though he knew 
 
 A frenzied wretch was on his hack; 
 And kept his pace, for goodly space, 
 
 L'pon Ins own free chosen track. 
 
 What an unthought of poal I'd won ; 
 
 Mercy! what wild'ring race I'd run 
 'Twould soon he o'er — my failing horse 
 
 Was strangely wheeling on its coursu. 
 His strength was out, his spirit flagged; 
 His fire was spent, he faintly lagged; 
 His drippinu flanks and recking neck 
 Were white with rifts of foaming fleck. 
 His laboured breath was quick and short; 
 His nostrils heaved with gasping snort : 
 He tottered on, his will was good, 
 His work had not belied his blood. 
 Another mile -and then he fell; 
 His part, was o'er- he played it well: 
 With snapping girth, and reeling head, 
 He groaned and sunk — my steed was dead! 
 
 Melaia : by Eliza Coek. 
 
 Wi)Z Pursuit. 
 
 The shop-windows in the wide street called Goswell Road, exhibited but 
 feeble lights in that dark age ; and the rude, thick window-frames threw 
 huge and magnified shadows on the roadway, which rendered it difficult to 
 distinguish objects, with certainty or clearness, even at the distance of a few 
 yards. The gravelled road rung loudly to the rattling gallop of the gallant 
 Bess, and the bright sparks flew brilliantly from the flints imbedded in the 
 drift ; for the unfrequent carriage traffic allowed such soft material to be used 
 to bind the large coarse gravel with which the highway was repaired. The 
 passing horseman excited but a passing thought, and Dick held on his course 
 toward the Angel at Islington : satisfied with the speed he had made, he 
 pulled up. 
 
 We have before said that, of late, Dick had relaxed much of his early 
 abstemiousness. His mouth was parched, yet he asked not for drink to 
 quench it. "He's dead!" said he, as Bess drew toward the mounting-block; 
 '* but I did not think mine should be the hand to deal his death-blow. 
 Alas! poor Tom! They'll surely follow,'" added he, thinking aloud; "'tis 
 not safe to dismount. No ! no ! this saddle is my throne, and I must not 
 quit it. Hallo!" and he called to a rough-headed ostler; " brandy here ! 
 d'ye hear?" 
 
 " Aye, aye," responded the fellow, lounging into the old-fashioned hostel. 
 
 The landlord came forth, bottle and glass in hand. 
 ■ { " 'Tis right Cognac," observed the pursy fellow, as he proffered the dram. 
 
 Dick despatched it. 
 s " Fill thin," said he, presenting a canteen. " Now a glass/' 
 
270 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 " Another !" It followed. 
 
 " Another !'' he again presented the glass. 
 
 " Another !'' and " Another !" 
 
 A heavy gallop sounded in the direction of the City Road — Turpin turned 
 his head ; he threw a guinea to the man. 
 
 " Good bye! and keep the change till Dick Turpin returns !" cried he. 
 
 The astonished Boniface stood, with bottle in hand, until three men rode 
 up. 
 
 " A man on a black horse ?" eagerly asked the first, who was mounted on 
 the animal once owned by the light-hearted Tom. 
 
 The host pointed along the road — the sounds of Bess's hoofs yet ringing 
 on the ear. 
 
 " Forward, forward, lads ! a race for a thousand — he's worth it ; forward, 
 forward !" and the trio — Dick Bayes, Bill Johnson, and Pearce, with whip 
 and spur, urged onward in pursuit. 
 
 Turpin felt that dogged determination and self-confidence which smiles at 
 the darkest frowns of fortune. He laughed scornfully, as with scarcely an 
 effort, and without call for the use of hand or heel, his gallant Bess bounded 
 forward, the shouts and gallop of the pursuers growing fainter at every stride. 
 Leaving the church of Islington to his left, he took the Lower Road, 
 passed Ball's Pond, and was soon breasting Stamford Hill. He slackened his 
 pace : the sounds of his enemies were borne on the light breeze. Through 
 the Wash at Edmonton, by the church, across the brook, and by the ancient 
 conduit, he sped : the venerable cross at Waltham rose on his view, silvered 
 by the bright moon ; Hertfordshire is gained — Theobald's passed, and 
 Dick breathed freely. The stake was too large, the reward too great, and 
 the bloodhounds too staunch, to forego the pursuit without a struggle ; and 
 Dick, with the nonchalance of fatalism, now suffered them to gain consider- 
 ably on him. As he cantered, rather than galloped, through the street of 
 Brockton, and by Burton Mill, the cry became, however, too close. 
 
 " We must lay out again, awhile, my Bessie," said the highwayman, patting 
 her smooth neck : the noble beast answered with a snort ; and, as if inter- 
 preting the wish of her master, turned her beautiful and active ears on their 
 elastic pivot. The sounds from behind reached her ; and Bess, who suffered 
 nothing to overtake her, again laid out. 
 
 Brockton and Hoddesdon are cleared a mile, and the hill surmounted ; the 
 cross-roads to Hertford and Stanfield passed, and the opposite acclivity gained. 
 Turpin turned in his saddle. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" cried he; " 'tis well I'm prevented from brooding on my mis- 
 chance : these fellows are obstinate — one, two, three, four — egad, there's a 
 reinforcement — well, the more the merrier. We'll try their horseflesh, Bess, 
 and give them such a night's ride as shall serve them for talk to the end of 
 their lives ; what ! take Dick Turpin in his saddle — and that on Bess — ha ! 
 ha ! Halloo ! Halloo !'' cried Dick, as he placed his hand to his head and 
 gave an encouraging view halloo to his eager and panting pursuers. The 
 clear strong shout was borne on the wind : — 
 
 " D'ye hear the murderous varmint V said Bayes savagely, '* he's mocking 
 us, by G — ; may I never see home again, if I have him not this night, dead 
 or alive ; forward, lads, forward !" 
 
 The blown horses were forced onward by lash and curse and armed heel. 
 Tbu« crossed thev the aqueduct of the public-spirited Sir Hugh Myddleton, 
 
DICK TURPIN. ■" 271 
 
 and reached Ware, where tliey succeeded in procuring fresh horses. The 
 loss of time, however, fully countervailed this advantage, and they crossed 
 the Lea without seeing or hearing the fugitive. But if they had lost 
 time, Dick did the same not farther on ; arrived again on the Lea, he 
 paused a few minutes near Ward's mill, at a publichouse, where again he 
 had recourse to brandy. 
 
 " Rest I cannot bear," muttered he ; u what matters my flight ; I've mur- 
 dered the truest, kindest, the best friend man ever had — the world contains 
 not a soul I care for ; and see — they're coming on again. 1 thought they had 
 had enough of this," added he, as the sound of hoofs once more rose on the 
 ear. " Well, well, good bye ! for the third time !" 
 
 He shook the rein on the neck of Bess, and away she went. The hills 
 between here and Collier's Well, added an excitement to the ride, which 
 cheered the heart of the fearless highwayman. Each successive acclivity 
 enabled him to judge accurately of the pace of his foes, and regulate that of 
 his noble mare accordingly : again and again did his jeering cry strike 
 on their ears, replied to, each time, by muttered curses. On, on, however, 
 they strained ; but their ardour abate' 1 , or their steeds flagged, as fagged and 
 weary they toiled up the hill, and by the windmill, two miles on this side 
 Royston : — 
 
 Up the green hill he climbs, 
 Stops on Its brow awhile, scornful looks back 
 On his pursuers pricking o'er the plain. 
 Again he flies, and with redoubled speed 
 Skims o'er the ground— still the tenacious crew 
 Hang on his fc»ack, aloud their prey demand, 
 And chase him many a league, t 
 
 Thus held they on until the moon was * walking in her brightness." The 
 night was glorious, as Dick mounted the hill before entering the town. 
 
 " We can play with them like a cat with a mouse,'' said he to his gallant 
 Bess ; " we must encourage them, or they'll give up and spoil the sport." 
 
 Turpin checked her head, and slackened her into a walk. The Tuse had the 
 desired effect. 
 
 " Now, or never !" cried Pearce, who was the best mounted, to two grooms, 
 who had joined them at Ware ; " his beast is lamed — hurra ! hurra !" and 
 they goaded the flanks of their panting horses. 
 
 At a smart trot Royston was cleared by Bess, and Cambridgeshire entered. 
 
 " Halloo, gentlemen !" cried Dick, as he passed the boundary, scarce fifty 
 yards before them ; "welcome to Cambridgeshire: any business in Hunts? 
 happy to ride with you — pleasant night ; good bye — no nearer, if you 
 please." 
 
 The distance was impracticable ; but Johnson fired his blunderbuss in mere 
 rage, as Bess again bounded off. 
 
 The mare bestrode by Bayes, and which he had procured at Ware, was a 
 staunch and good animal ; but the thieftaker's horsemanship, though he was 
 a bold and stouthearted rider, had nearly beaten his prad — unlike our hero, 
 who rode so as scarcely to allow his matchless steed to feel him. The two 
 grooms who had joined them at the change, inspired by the promise of ten 
 guineas from Bayes, might have proved more formidable competitors in the 
 race, had they not kept with the ruck ; for deficiency of weapons, and per- 
 
 t Somervile's Chase, b. iii. 
 
172 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 sonal apprehension rendering them loth to be the first to encounter the 
 famous Turpin, they prudently kept neck and neck — and no more--with those 
 whose profession entitled them to the honour of the first shot from the high- 
 wayman's pistol. 
 
 'Tis nine o' clock, and forty miles have now been covered. 
 
 " A consultation, lads,'' cried Bayes ; and rising gingerly in his saddle, he 
 checked his horse, nothing loth, iuto a walk ; the rest of the party did the 
 same. 
 
 " 'Tis the pace that kills ; he's better mounted than us, and be d— d to 
 him,'' said the officer, striving to hide his mortification. " I'll tell you — we 
 can procure relays, he can't— let's track him slowly ; tomorrow we'll find 
 him, even if he should slip us now. His mare's a trump, but she can't last 
 much longer : easy, lads ; slowly forward to Arringxon ; there we'll take a 
 rest and a whet, and remount to follow the slot of this buck, should he run 
 to the land's end." 
 
 His company assented. The two assistants, however, declining to follow 
 further, and grumbling at the guinea, which Bayes proffered them, turned 
 their jaded steeds southward, and swore their weary way back to Royston, 
 whence, they returned in the morning to Ware, with a thousand maledictions 
 on thieftaking and thieftakers, as many protestations never again to engage 
 in hunting a highwayman, and as many aspirations that, (as they had not 
 taken him,) our hero might baffle the shabby scoundrel's hope of getting the 
 reward. 
 
 The officers rode on easily, so far as pace went ; and now they sniff the 
 cooling breeze which sweeps the glassy surface of the classic Granta. What 
 is that figure stationary on the bridge ? 'tis the object of their hopes and 
 fears seated quietly in his saddle. 
 
 The pursuers gnashed their teeth with vexation. 
 
 " He's laughing at us, by G — !" said Bayes . " 'tis no use to spur ; keep 
 easy, Bill, I say ; the daring scoundrel knows his Bess can run away from us 
 when he pleases. But, if it costs me fifty, I'll have a horse presently that 
 shall put you to your tether, my lad, or my name's not Dick Bayes." 
 
 (* Now then, loitering again, gentlemen," cried Dick, as he could plainly 
 distinguish the shuffling trot into which the trio now urged their horses. 
 His voice came clear on the silence of night. 
 
 " Let's try one more burst : we're but a mile from Arrington ; an accident 
 may yet make him our prisoner." 
 
 " Done !" cried Bayes, and once more they dashed offinto a gallop. Their first 
 stride was the'signal for Bess and her rider. That night the good folks were startled 
 with the clatter of hoofs through the main street of their peaceful village, mingled 
 with the shouts of men. But like the lightning's gleam, which, "ere a man 
 can say behold ! it is gone," so soon fled the sounds in the distance : yet 
 many a year did aged garrulity report the story of that chase ; and many a 
 withered ancient so embellished the oft-repeated lie, that at last, by the mere 
 force of iteration, not a few believed they could describe — aye, and more, 
 they did describe — the person of the bold Dick Turpin. 
 
 On— on — and now the hill on this side Wimple rises before him : up its 
 side 
 
 See lita swift courser strains : her shining hoofs 
 Secure and steady beat the sounding earth. Now 
 
DICK TUKl'IN. 
 
 273 
 
 Turpii; in v. tes lus pusiiersto a ride through Cumbridgeshiie. 
 
 Down he sweep*, as stoops the fnlcon bold 
 To pounce Ti is prey. Now, up the opponent hill. 
 By the swift m 'tion fluns, he mounts aloft; 
 So ships in wintry seas, now sliding sink 
 Adown the steepy wave — then, tossed on high, 
 Ride o*er the billow9 and defy the storm. 
 
 Wimple is passed — the stream crossed ; and still, as " darts the dolphin 
 from the shark," the vigorous chase holds her own. Leaving "the beauteous 
 groves of Stovve'' on the left, he spurs through the wooded road and mounts 
 the hill; hut, where are his pursuers ? Dick looked back; slowly they 
 emerge from the wood, still urging their over-ridden beasts in vain pursuit, 
 and arrived at the hill on whose steep ascent they view once more their tan- 
 talising enemy. 
 
 "It's of no use," said Baves, for the first time speaking in a desponding 
 tone. 
 
 " Hold on to Caxton — cheer up! ' cried Pearce ; " we've a chance on the 
 cards yet. Don't let 'em sav we had a highwayman in sight all night, and 
 couldn't take him at last. No, no ! follow, lads, follow!" and once more he 
 urged his horse forward through Caxton ; and, led by Pearce, who was by 
 far the best rider, the party followed Turpin, who rode steadily on. Pap- 
 Viorlh St. Agnes, and 1'apworth Everard — four more miles — and lash, and 
 steel, and curse are powerless to urge their over-marked brutes to greatei 
 exertion — 
 
 No. 35. 
 
ift .. ui UK TURFIN. 
 
 The panting tourser now, with trembling nerves, 
 Begins to reel; urged by the purine spur. 
 Many a faint effort makes : he snorts, lie foams; 
 The big round drops run trickling down his sides, 
 With sweat and blood distained. 
 
 " Done ! by G — d !" cried Bayes, mad with vexation, as the rattling fling 
 of iron rung on the hard road. 
 
 Leaning aside, he looked anxiously down his horse's legs: the foot in 
 which the worn nail still remained galled her, and she halted cruelly. 
 
 " Give her a warming, and she'll forget it," said Pearce, ignorant of the 
 nature of the mishap. 
 
 " She's cast a shoe, conf >und her !" cried the thieftaker. " Never mind : 
 hold on ! hold on !" and he forced the wretched animal to speed ; with 
 reeling steps, and heaving flank, the tortured beast staggers on : the steep ascent 
 by which Huntingdonshire is entered rises before Turpin, who now 
 
 — Looks back and views 
 The strange confusion of the vale below, 
 Where sore vexation reigns : see yon poor jade : 
 In vain th' impatient horseman frets and swears. 
 With galling spur harrows his mangled sides — 
 He can no more : his stiff unpliant limbs 
 Rooted to earth, unmoved and fixed he stands, 
 For every cruel curse returns a groan, 
 And sobs, and faints, and difs. t 
 
 " There goes twenty pounds," growled Bayes, as he disentangled himself 
 from his dying horse. 
 
 The others gathered round him. 
 
 " Are ye hurt ?" asked Pearce, as his discomfited brother officer rose to his 
 feet, and beat the dust, for the road was dry, from his person. 
 
 "Hurt!" retorted Bayes angrily; "aye, in reputation, and mind, and 
 pocket: follow, Bill — follow and shoot him — never take him; lend me your 
 horse, if you're afraid. Look at him!" exclaimed he, as he pointed towards 
 Dick, who had again reined up, and sat in the calm clear moonlight, his jet- 
 black mare contrasting strongly with the white chalky road. " Look at him !" 
 repeated he, hoarse with passion, and *haking his fist with impotent rage. 
 
 " What shall we do?" asked Bill Johnson, as, holding their panting beasts, 
 thev joined in council with their chief. 
 
 "Do! whv give me your horse; I'll not return alive without Turpin ;" 
 and, in the fury of his disappointment, he sealed his determination with an 
 oath. 
 
 A few minutes' consideration, however, materially cooled his ardour; and, 
 at last, he assented, with pretended unwillingness, to the proposal of Johnson, 
 that they should endeavour to reach Papworth by the Roman road, and give 
 up farther thought of overtaking our hero. 
 
 Dick sat, as we have said, in the calm moonbeams, looking at the group. 
 
 "There's one down, by jingo !" said he gaily: "ho! ho! the others dis- 
 mount ; I hope he hasn't broke his neck for the sake of his chance of catching 
 us — eh, my Bessie !" and he patted her neck affectionately " We can't afford 
 to lose ground, can we?'' he added, as if consulting with his four-footed 
 favourite ; " or we'd step back to ask after their healths. Catch you, Bess ! 
 ha ! ha ! or take me on your back ! ha ! ha !" and he rode her on to the grass 
 
 f Somervile's Chase, b. Hi. 
 
DICK TURPI*. 275 
 
 by the way-side; and, with silent steps, drew nearer to his foes. Lowering 
 iiis head beside her muscular neck, he listened anxiously to lier breathing — 
 it was strong hut clear — accelerated, it is true, yet regular; he looked at her 
 skin, not a hair was turned; he touched her mouth lightly; the fine trumpet 
 of her short round ear turned actively and playfully ; he checked his rein ; 
 she swerved her head, and looked steadily at him with her full, round, placid 
 eye. 
 
 " My pride, my only friend," said the highwayman, transported at these 
 signs of temper and endurance. 
 
 He pressed his face against her neck, and the faithful brute rubbed its head 
 caressingly, as if acknowledging the kindness. He was now within such a 
 distance as his experience in pistol practice told him could not with safety be 
 diminished, and had halted to pursue his scrutiny, when Johnson spied him in 
 the shadow of the hedge. 
 
 " Why, the audacious scoundrel's coming back to us!" cried he; pointing 
 towards Dick. The eyes of his companions were directed to the spot. 
 
 " He'd only laugh at our tiring ; he's too far off','' said Pearce, doggedly. 
 
 " I'd give ten guineas for a shot at him, at a reasonable distance," mut- 
 tered Bayes. 
 
 4< What the deuce is he at ?" asked Pearce, who was more short-sightedi 
 than the others. 
 
 " ' At f I think you said, old Blinkey ; why, having a laugh at us, to 
 be sure.'' 
 
 " Hallo I" cried Turpin ; who saw he had attracted their attention : " I 
 invited you, gentlemen, to a ride into Cambridgeshire, and I thought you 
 promised to accompany me into Hunts. Can T be of any service, eh '. Sad- 
 dle-girth slipped, eh ? — Shoe cast, eh? — smith at Hilton, few miles further 
 on. — Bellows to mend, perhaps," added he, still laughing; "respectable 
 tradesman in that line, too, in the same town — if they're not quite past 
 repair." Bayes raised a pistol in the excess of his vexation. 
 
 " It's no use," said Johnson, putting his hand on Bayes's arm, " he's out 
 of range, and the thief knows it." 
 
 " Leave me alone," said the irritated superior, and the report of his long 
 horse pistol echoed along the hill-side. 
 
 " Obliged to you, much," 1 said Dick, waving his hat with mock politeness, 
 then drawing a canteen from beneath his riding coat, after inviting them to 
 drink, he put the bottle to his mouth. He was yet drinking, when Pearce, 
 suddenly getting under shadow of the roadside bank, crouched, and ran 
 some dozen yards in a stooping posture. Dick, who had finished his pull 
 at the brandy -flask, was surprised to see but two men beside the 
 fallen horse, and was trying to discover what had become of the third, when a 
 fla-h from the hedge-bank caught his eye, and a bullet striking the tip of 
 Bess's ear, passed obliquely by. Dick saw the sanguine stain, as Bess 
 shook her head violently and raised her fore-feet slightly from the ground. 
 " Pretty pistol practice," cried Turpin, moving towards Pearce, whom the 
 flash of his pistol had betrayed. The officer ran back to his comrades for 
 safety, but not so quickly as to escape a return of his shot from Dick; the 
 ball struck his arm, and with an outcry of pain, he sprang towards them, and 
 sunk beside the fallen horse. Bayes and Johnson had drawn their weapons, 
 when Dick, wheeling rapidly, retraced his path. Two bullets followed him 
 
27G DICK TURl'IN. 
 
 atari inefTe.-tive distance, " Good bye! good bye!" sounded on the ears 
 
 of the discomfited thieftakers, and away, as though the speed of thought were 
 
 in her limbs, springs the gallant Bess, and bounds 
 
 O'or rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the sleepy hll!. 
 Nor falters in the extended vale below. 
 
 Away ! away I and on wr dash, 
 Torrents less rapid, unci less rash. 
 'TwftS scarcely yet the break of day. 
 Yet on he foamed, away ! away ! 
 
 JIazeppa. 
 
 •« Hurrah for Huntingdonshire," cried Turpin, as at a sounding pace his 
 mare crossed the bridge over the Lesser Onse ; " ln.rrah for Huntingdon ! 
 More counties shall yet hear of us, my gallant Bess!'' her firm and active 
 ears alternately turned to catch the sound of her master's voice, then playfully 
 lowering them, as though in the act to bite, she tossed her nolde head, cur- 
 veted sportively, and without hint from hand or foot, beyond a slight pressure 
 from her rider's leg, sprung into a ga lop. Hilton, Beggar's Bush, a 
 hill — and the beautiful embattled tower of the ancient church of Godmanchester 
 rises heavenward, rearing its venerable spire in the calm and stillv night air, 
 a monument of the piety of the men who sleep the long sleep beneath its 
 shadow ; and pointing, with mute eloquence, toward that home to which man's 
 best thoughts and wishes should be directed. Not such, however, as 
 should be ever-present to the mind of a reasoning and accountable being, 
 were the thoughts and feelings of our hero — the world-defying scorn of the 
 outcast had thrust from his soul the feeling of love for his kind, which, when 
 lost, makes man no longer social. The irregularities of an uncurbed lawless 
 career had obliterated from his mind those right principles, and emancipated 
 his actions from those moral restraints, which are as essential to the happi- 
 ness of the individual himself as to the order of the community of which he 
 is a member. Misfortunes, (so he termed events which were but the legiti- 
 mate and inevitable results of such crimes as his,) had so dogged his steps, 
 that he felt himself justified in warring on mankind. 
 
 " Every man's hand is against me," thought he, in the very spirit of the 
 Arab ; " so shall my hand be against every man." 
 
 Alas ! poor human nature knows not itself; at the very time he thus 
 poured forth against human kind the bitterness of a crime-stung soul, he was 
 anxiously caring for his horse ! 
 
 The bell told eleven as, crossing the ancient, stone bridge over the Onse, 
 he rode up the main street of the city memorable as the birth-place of trie 
 Protector Cromwell. Arrived in the spacious market-place he drew up at 
 a house of entertainment which seemed well lighted. 
 
 "All pursuit," said he " is far enough behind: they've had enough of it: 
 we'll have our ride out thougb, as they've put us on our mettle." 
 
 He felt that reckless spirit which scorns concealment, that desperation 
 which, daring the worst, is rather madness than true courage. 
 
 "I'll show myself a bit this night — they shall talk of us, Bess, in time to 
 com e — we've lost ground though sadly in the last two hours — we're going to 
 York, Bess ; once there let the future take care of itself," and he drained the 
 last drop from his companion-flask. 
 
 " Hallo ! house ! within there !" brought a waiter from the door. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 277 
 
 '* Be pleased to dismount, sir," officiously suggested the polite napkin- 
 bearer, steadying the stirrup of the horseman. 
 
 Dink declined his assistance, but dismounted. 
 
 " Walk in, sir," said he of the cotton stockings and thin shoes, for silks 
 were then onlv sported by Ihe lace-guarded lacqueys of the first nobility. 
 
 " No, no,"' replied Turpin, smoothing the fetlocks and the mane, and rubbing 
 dry the flanks of Bess; " fill that, (he handed him the flask), and send the 
 ostler to me " He came. 
 
 " Can von scald me a mash — a sweet one — a small quantity, eh ?'' 
 
 The fellow replied in the affirmative. The brandy was brought — the mash 
 eaten — and Turpin again in the saddle. 
 
 " Waiter !" 
 
 " Yes, sir!" 
 
 " Pav vour master for the brandy, and keep the change. Sam ! take that ; 
 and when vour companions talk of the horses they've seen, tell them you've 
 had a guinea from Turpin for grooming Black Bess. Good bye!" 
 
 " There goes as good a trump as any in England, let the next be where 
 he may," said Sam, as the regular sound of Bess's canter grew fainter in the 
 direction of Great Stukely : " 'taint every day, no, nor week neither, as such 
 as we sees such gentleman's conduct from them as, I dare say, think 'emselves 
 good enough to look down on Mister Turpin. Well, well, if he do get his 
 money lightly he parts wi' it. lightly, and where's the odds? good luck to 
 him, ses I ; and those as don't like it may lump it. I'll go an 1 drink his 
 health in the best as is in the cellar." 
 
 " And I'll join you, Sam," said the waiter to the head-ostler, " so soon as 
 I've given master the keys of the smoking-room ; there's ne'er a customer 
 there, and no coach till to-morrow." 
 
 Sam agreed to wait a few minutes ; and leaving the pair quaffing their 
 stingo, and each, as the brain-inspiring liouor mounted, inventing or exag- 
 gerating the exploits of their bold benefactor, we will take a gallop after the 
 subject, of their discourse. 
 
 Bv Alconbury Inn, nor to right nor left he turns, but straight onward by 
 the Three Sawtreys, and through the town of Stilton — name dear to epicures 
 in cheese — he holds his way. The fenny country, once the forest resort of 
 dappled deer, now lies before him, one marshy level, flat and cheerless. 
 Norman Cross, Water Newton, Sibson — the Nene bridge is crossed, and 
 Northamptonshire lies before him. The moon is down, and the bright stars 
 twinkle, while the planets, with steady and various coloured ray, look down 
 on the peacefid earth ; no sound is heard save the hoof of the steed, and the 
 strong breathing of herself and her rider. By Thornhaugh and Whitlering,, 
 through a country dotted with white gleams of mere-water; and now she sniffs the 
 cool air, and hears the ripple of the broad Welland: the boundary of Lincoln- 
 shire is entered, Stamford traversed, and Rutlandshire reached within two 
 miles. Great Casterton and the Gnash are to the left, Bowland's Gibbet to 
 the right ; Stretton, and the woods and windmills beyond, are passed, 
 and Lincolnshire again entered. To his left flows the Witham, winding 
 peacefully 'mid grove and mead, till, crossed again, he sees it rolling on his 
 right. He looks on the bosky shades which mark the river's course ; and 
 crossing the rill on this side the road which diverges towards Basing- 
 
278 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 thorpe, he reads inscribed on the ancient stone, " 100 miles from the Standard 
 on Cornhill.' 1 * 
 
 Turpin could not repress a cheer — " Hurrah, hurrah, fur the hun- 
 dredth !" cried the highwayman. A pull at his flask, and forward. 
 
 Still travelling parallel with the sedgy Witham his gallant steed covers 
 the ground with steady stride, and now, gleaming across the flat and swampy 
 land, he views the extended plain 
 
 Spread through the shadow of the night ; 
 
 And onward, onward, onward, seem 
 
 Like precipices in a dream, 
 To stretch beyond the sight. 
 
 Strong and steady, and with unflinching resolve, his horse bounds on ; what 
 beauteous spire is that rising from the tufted trees, the mellow white of 
 its stone-work contrasted with the dusky green of the massy foliage sleeping 
 in the imperfect light — 'tis Grantham. 
 
 The town is passed, and Bess toils among the windmill-crowned hills 
 'twixt it and Gunnersby ; toils for the first time, for no mark of exer- 
 tion, not to say exhaustion, had yet appeared. Her crisp short ear 
 lopped, and with erect tail she laboured up the steep ascent of Hoocliff Hill. 
 Turpin was too good a horseman, even in his then excited state, not to mark 
 the symptom ; six miles of open road is rode at a pace to save distress, Ber- 
 nyngton is neared, and now Bess weighs heavily on the sustaining bridle- 
 hand of her rider. 
 
 Some streaks announced the coming day ; 
 
 How slow alas I he came! 
 He thought that mist of dawning gray 
 Would never dapple into day, 
 So heavily it rolled away, 
 
 Before the eastern flame 
 Rose crimson, and deposed the stars ; 
 And culled the radiance from their cars, 
 And filled the earth from his bright throna, 
 With glorious lustre all his own. 
 
 At that still hour, the steam rising from her flanks, with the first white 
 foam clinging to her bit, Bess and her rider entered Bernyngton. Turpin 
 dismounted at the inn. 
 
 " 'Twill never do,'' said he internally, " to let her stiffen." 
 
 He had not eaten since the noon of the previous day, yet he did not ask 
 for meat. 
 
 " Is your ale good ?*' asked he of a drowsy fellow, who with ungartered 
 legs, lounged from a side door to answer the summons of the earlv wayfarer. 
 
 " Aye, aye, sur, sure it be, and 'tis a-singing V my head noo'' — and rubbing 
 
 iu[>u"mi|miiiiii vuins, sucu as i\oci]ue s ourvey, i/jd, wiiicm win account 
 for tlie miles here incidentally mentioned differing from tbe present. The route also 
 occasionally deviates from the present one, but not materially ; all distances in con- 
 temporary authorities are computed from the Standard at Cornhill, and not from 
 Uicks's Hall. He has preferred resorting to them, though the modern road books weuld 
 have saver! him much time and trouble. 
 
I DICK TURPI N. 279 
 
 bis eyes he gazed toward tha gorgeous east — "Early abroad this morning, 
 sur?" said the man sulkily, and stealing a suspicious look at the smoking 
 Bess ; — " and travelling all night, too,*' thought he, though he kept that part 
 of his observation to himself. 
 
 " Mind your own business," said Dick tartly ; once more engaged in rubbing 
 down his favourite. " The ale, fellow." 
 
 " Oh, aye !" and he sauntered in at the doorway. 
 
 Five minutes passed, and the man returned with the tankard — 
 
 In thfi full glass the liquid amber 6mile», 
 Our native product. 
 
 " Drink yourself," said Dick. 
 
 "Thank'ee, sur. That went down hissing, master, for the copper's hot. 
 I'se little bit queery this mornin' ; and there's nothing like a hair o' the dog 
 as bit 'ee overnight to set 'ee roight i' the mornin'."* 
 
 " Warm the rest on't, and you shall have a shilling to drink my health: 
 sugar it — but mind ye, no ginger." 
 
 " Aye, aye ;" and the fellow, returning to the kiichen, removed the cake 
 from the top of the unextinguished peat fire, and blew its embers into a glow. 
 
 " Now, my Bessy," said Dick, as he presented the warm ala in a small 
 piggin. 
 
 She thrust her nose eagerly into the vessel, and drank of its contents. 
 Her crest rose, her eye brightened, and the pawing forefoot told her impa- 
 tience. 
 
 In saddle again, and freshly and gaily they career along. The border of 
 Notts is passed ; and Barnley-in-the-Willows, with Newark, are to the south. 
 The Trent has twice been crossed, and hills and windmills left behind, and 
 now — 
 
 Up rose the sun ; the mists were curled 
 Back from the soundly-slumb'ring world, 
 Which lay around, behind, before ; 
 What boots it thus to travel o'er 
 Plain, forest, river 1 
 
 The sun shone brightly on the frequent waters which traversed their road, 
 as Sutton, Weston, and Tuxford appeared on either side ; the beacon hill is 
 in view — 'tis reached ; and Turpin's horse walks the ascent. Dick shook his 
 head as he observed this. The strong, laborious breathing of an over- 
 tasked animal, though yet not blown, sounded ominously. 
 
 " My Bessy," said he, as they surmounted the hill. 
 
 Her ears momentarily pricked at the sound of his voice, but fell, more 
 especially the wounded one, as he ceased to speak. Again he spoke, and the 
 high-couraged animal mended her pace. 
 
 " I fear I've overmarked her," said Dielc as, passing the Twin Oaks, he 
 saw the 137th mile-stone. " Well, well, what must be, must be; I know 
 my end approaches, but none beside Dick Turpin shall ever cross Black Bess!" 
 
 He struck the spur against her side — fired at the unwonted indignity, her 
 blood and courage rose, and with a speed few fresh horses could have rivalled, 
 Bess covered the ground for the next eight miles, clearing the dreary moor 
 of Barnby and the villages of Tarworth and Ravenskel ; nor slackens she 
 till Scrooby is in view. " Bravo ! bravo !" cried Turpin, as with straining 
 
 * A north-country proverb, implying that the debauch of over-Bight is best remedied 
 by a draught of the same liquor immediately on rising, f 
 
280 DICK TUItPlN. 
 
 speed she held her way — " 'twill cost thy life, my Bess ; but we must all die 
 once, and as well now as any time." They passed a farm-yard — spruce 
 chanticleer, strutting before his dames, in the pride of his shrili throat, 
 gave forth his clarion of defiance, and was answered by his feathered rivals of 
 the country round. * 
 
 Dick looked at the stout-hearted bird, as he passed along, " I've surely 
 heard, or read somewhere, that the entrails, including the heart, of a true 
 game cock, will inspire the courage of a failing steed — 'tis but a trial : pahaw, 
 it's foolish superstition — an old woman's story.* I'm getting silly" he drew 
 his bottle and took a long and strong pull — it would not do, the idea had pre- 
 sented itself and would not be dismissed. He drew Bess towards the road side, 
 it would be unsafe to shoot the animal with the house audits inmates so near. 
 He. stole cautiously towards a hedge, crossed a stable-yard, and coming upon 
 the spouse of dame Partlet, while he and his harem were concealed from 
 the house windows by an intervening haystack, at one grasp twisted the 
 neck of the vain-glorious polygamist. His pocket-knife did the rest, then 
 cleansing the entrails in a running brook, and rinsing them with diluted 
 brandy, he wrapped them round the bit of Bess. The animal closed her lately 
 open mouth — 
 
 " She'll do fifty yet" cried Dick ; and his leg had scarcely crossed her 
 when the unconquerable animal once more went forward. 
 
 Over the river Idle, and Bess— for she was a Yorkshire foal— treads her 
 native soil ; and as though, Antaeus-like, her mother-earth gave renewed 
 vigour, springs strengthened by each straining stride. Bawtrey, the wood and 
 the open country beyond bear witness that she belies not her race — the hardy 
 old English hunter with a dash of the eastern blood. Of the spectators of a 
 modern race- course few know the sacrifice of muscular power, endurance, and 
 utilitv, at which the short-distance speed of the race-horse of these degenerate 
 days has been purchased. The old hunter, and the old four, six, or even . 
 twelve-mile king's plate horse,t with his short limbs, open chest, expanded 
 
 •This is an old prejudice; in some early book9 on horsemanship, great feats are narrated to have 
 been performed by the aid of this restorative, and the traditionary accounts of the ride of Nix from 
 Gad's Hill to York, as well as that of Turpin, mention either fowl's entrails or raw beef thus used. 
 
 t It is notorious how soon the limbs of the modern racer give way : a single race, nay, the pre- 
 paration for one, often breaks him down. Had the old standard been steadily maintained, by which 
 our early racers were tested, the modern ones would never have been permitted to deteriorate in 
 respect of qualities, which, being natural, can only be renovated by a recurrence to nature. The 
 . modern racer assuredly lias not lost speed — he is swifter than our earlier horses; but he no longer 
 possesses that form, or those qualities, which denote vigour, endurance, or utility. 
 
 The approach to the form of the pony's head, in the old portraits of hackneys and hunters, is re- 
 markable; and we need not say a word of the greater proportionate power of a small compact horse 
 over a long and large one It may not be uninteresting to the reader, who is in the habit of daily- 
 reading accounts of the breaking down of racers, on or after a inile-and-a-half or two-mile course, 
 to givp, from authentic records, two or three examples, from among many, of the performances of old 
 English racers, when stoutness was not entirely postponed to speed, and a honest distance was required 
 as the test of superiority. They are of the time of Turpin. 
 
 1718, Newmarket. Twenty-three matches in all. 8 st., four miles ; Duke of Wharton's, Chanter, 
 won. Duke of Wharton's Galloway, 8 st. 101b., against Lord Hillsborough's Fiddler, carrying 12 st.; 
 six miles. 200 suineas. 
 
 In 1720, at the same place, there were twenty-six matches, some four, some six miles; and weights 
 that would frighten a modern jockey. In Oct. 1720, the Duke of Wharton's Coneyskins, carrying 
 list. 10 1b., beat Lord Hillsborough's Speedwell, carrying 12 st. Best of three heats, four miles each: 
 twelve miles : for lO'O guineas. 
 
 In 1737, Black Chance, rive years old, 10 st., won the King's Plate at Durham, distance four miles. 
 Ladies' plate at York, same year. In 1738, King's Plate at Guilford; do. at Salisbury; do. at Win- 
 chester - do. at I. ewes ; do at Lincoln; in one season ; eveiy race four miles, and each contested; and. 
 in October of same year, started for King's Plate at Newmarket, but fell in the running, and was 
 beaten. In 1739 he won twice; in 1740 at Wrexham, Shrewsbury, and Oswestry, carrying 13 stone I 
 at Denbigh 12 stone ! 1 n 1741 the same horse was victor at Chester, Manchester, and Hereford ; 1742 
 received premium at Chester, and won at Manchester; in 1744 walked over for plate at Farnden; 
 thus running and winning, with heavy weights and long distances, for seven years consecutively. 
 
 It would be useless to multiply instances. Another racer, Johnny, won or received forfeit twenty- 
 Uv» times; distances four, six, and twelve miles, What would our modern jocks say to this? \ 
 
WCK TURPIN. 
 
 ■281 
 
 The Death of Bltek liens. 
 
 ribs, wide hips, fine head, muscular neck, powerful arms, thighs, and stifles, 
 and above all, broad and strong loins, can now only be seen in the portraits by 
 Marshall or Stubbs ; and though we cannot deny the swiftness of his light, 
 feeble, weedy successor, the sacrifice to art has no compensatory advantage. 
 
 But we are digressing. The town of Doncaster, near which his noble 
 mare first tngged the teat or nipped the tender grass, nine springs ago, is 
 seen by Bess for the last time. 
 
 " I'll not pa^s through," said Turpin ; for her elastic spine, no longer 
 rising with the spring of the tense bow, bent slowly beneath the weight of 
 her rider. A mark of speedy-cut, too, was visible, and the trickling blood 
 itained the dark skin of her fine hard *hank. 
 
 " Here's the Don at hand," said Dick, as he diverged across meadow and 
 open ground, into a bye lane towards the shining river: " a cold bath, my 
 Bessy, for we're both doomed, may restore you a while. York 1 will reach, 
 and you must go with me." 
 
 Arrived at the river, one plunge, and 
 
 It it. no drf!\m, 
 The wild horse swims the wildei 9tream, 
 The bright, clear, river'* gtishin™ tide 
 Sweeps winding onward, tar and wide. 
 
 The cool wave laves her smoking side ; and, braced by the shock, she 
 breathes more sloivlv, as with short motion her still aclive limbs propel herself 
 No. 36. 
 
283 DICK TURPI N. 
 
 and her ri-ler towards the opposite shore. Dick did not hurry her, but looked 
 at her head, with the careful eye of a practised horseman. 
 " It's nearly out of yon, I fear, my Bessy," quoth he, as 
 
 With glossy skin and dripping mana 
 
 And shivering limbs and reeking flank, 
 The strong steed's sinewy nerve* now strain 
 
 Up the repelling bank. 
 
 Turpin, sanguine and hopeful as was his temperament, and strong as was 
 his confidence in Bess's prowess, desponded too early. Like some hasty 
 stream, awhile dammed up, did she now foam along with fresh recruited might ; 
 as though the breathing pause of the short time spent in crossing the stream, 
 where she first had slaked her thirst, lent new vigour to her limbs. 
 
 Away! away! Cusworth is to the left, and Scausby; he turns his head, 
 and looks along the ancient streetway which leads to Wakefield — the well 
 which owes its name to bold Robin Hood is near. Bess stumbled— never before 
 had her sure foot failed — she recovered. 
 
 The sun is high in heaven, and shines hotly on the dry and dusty road ; 
 Dick looks back, and views, with a shudder of alarm even human blood had 
 not occasioned, a sanguine stain marking the dry chalky dust. She over- 
 reaches; and this time a wide and crimson wound gapes on her springy 
 pastern. The highwayman dropped his rein. 
 
 H 'Tis done," said he. Again his flask was produced : he drank, then wiped 
 the perspiration from his forehead. The skin of Bess, once smooth, was now 
 rough and staring; and the veins, always prominent, starting from its surface, 
 bound her over-strained muscles as with cords of searing fire ; the rosy pink 
 of her dilated nostrils is replaced by the bright scarlet of the vital fluid, which 
 bursts from every pore of the tender membrane ; and her mild bright eye is 
 suffused with the scalding tears which trickle down her noble face. With 
 reeling step she now holds on— deep sobs heave her labouring sides—" A 
 few more yards, and then," said Turpin recovering himself— and with 
 desperate heel he tears her side — the whip descends, and on, staggering, 
 feeble, and faint * * * But see her erected crest and mane, and trembling 
 spine— she sways to and fro like a drunken man — her near leg strikes her 
 off— -she stands — a pant — and now a heave that stretches " her leathern coat 
 almost to bursting :'' the girths are broken, her rider dismounted, never 
 again to cross the steed who has served him so well — and with one mighty 
 sob the gallant Bess rolls on the chalky road ! The highwayman stood 
 watching the last fierce struggle of that strong brute in the yet stronger grasp 
 of Death : he loosened her head-stall, and slipped the bit from her mouth; 
 her own efforts had saved him the task of doing so by her other incumbrances. 
 He stood, we said, watching her last pangs : the bit is removed, and with 
 gaping mouth and wide-strained nostrils the wretched animal seems to devour 
 the air — her flanks heave — a spasm draws her round ribs, and bends her 
 powerful spine— her head is raised from earth— and, flexing her near leg, 
 she rolls her forequarters from the ground ; the off foreleg paws the road in 
 vain — the trembling sinews shake — they weaken, the power to rise is gone ; 
 another groan — she rolls back prostrate — one sob — a gasp — a choking rattle — 
 and she pours from her nostrils the spark of life, in a gush of blood, at the 
 feet of her too-well served master. Her heart is broken ! 
 
 Turpin stood gazing on that protruded eye, as its preternatural and blood- 
 
DICK TUK PIN. 2S3 
 
 shot orb o-laied over w^th the dull film of death, till the stiffening limbs and 
 sinking sides, the shrinking veins and dingy cost, could convey to the casual 
 observer but a feeble idea of what that mare was in the hey-day of her pride 
 and beauty. 
 
 " 'Tis idle to stand here," said he ; " the last being that loved me or cared 
 fur tne is now gone — nay, the last that 1 shall ever love or care for." 
 
 He stood beside the prostrate corse so late instinct with life and vigour ; 
 the faint steam ever and anon curled in a tiny wreath from the rough, 
 staring, and unsightly skin, once beautiful and black, now brown with travel- 
 srains, and rough with clammy sweat ; he watched the steamy wreaths 
 grow fainter and fainter as the fast-cooling body lost its natural heat, even 
 m the hot ravs of the noonday sun. He started from his reverie: the life of 
 that gallant and faithful brute had passed before his mind's review ; the exciting 
 and adventurous career they had run together — Fielder, King, Esther, 
 her venerable father, rose from their graves and passed, like Banquo's shadowy 
 line, across the mirror of his fantasy. Fatigue, excess, excitement, exhaustion, 
 had worn the strong man down in mind as well as body, and, at that instant, 
 had not pride forbad, and fear of the world and the world's scorn, (though he 
 deluded himself into the belief that he despised it,) been a sponger trial than 
 he dared to brave, he would have repented : but no— he had gone too far f >r 
 reflection. His best friend had fallen by his hand : he looked at that hand, as 
 the thought arose, as though expecting to behold some crimson stain, and 
 felt surprised at its absence — he thought of ker, the innocent, the guileless; 
 of her--- 
 
 " who loved not wisely, but too well:" 
 
 of the murdered Bevis ; of the treachery of Madge, whom he now suspected 
 to have been the cause of the apprehension of Street ; the death of King; and 
 the cause of this ride, in which last feat only did he now feel pride. Anon 
 the gibbet, on which the bones of Dennis yet swung creaking in the passing 
 wind, presented itself. " And such," said he, as the dreadful apparatus of 
 death arose, " such will be my fate— I feel it, 1 know it : where now are — " 
 
 The whirr of wheels, afar off on the road salute 1 his ear: he looked 
 across the vale. 
 
 " I must retire awhile ; they'll see the horse, though." 
 
 The chaise approached, andTurpin, taking with him the bridle and saddle, 
 walked behind a stone will out of sight of the party. 
 
 What now were the feelings of the bold highwayman, whom the ignorant 
 or superficial youth, looking through the vista of romance or the drama, may 
 imagine a hero ? He was man, and therefore felt as one ; conscience may be 
 despised, and its warnings neglected, but it cannot be stifled ; the "still, small 
 voice" can own no shorter life than the pulse of the heart to which its 
 counsels or its warnings are addressed; and those counsels, those warnings* 
 disregarded or defied, it shall not cease to sear the soul with remorse till thev 
 or it sleep in the grave, " where there is no repentance." The bold villain 
 felt — he had felt it before, but never so strongly as now — that vice has no 
 need of bitter in her cup beyond that supplied by her victims ; and that he 
 who embraces sin, lured by the beauteous wreath which hides her temples, 
 shall feel the sting of the snakes it hides ; and sooner or later, when 
 
 TIid friereinf epaar id l«uyhi*g flowers aonoeaUd* 
 
284 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 smites his heart, shall find that sin, misery, and remorse, are inseparable. Tnase 
 thoughts whirled through his brain ; he Started to his feet, and draining the flask, 
 sought oblivion in intoxication. He drew a pistol from his holster, and 
 examined the priming, as he held it with unsteady hand. The desperate 
 thought of suicide suggested itself— the next moment he laughed loudly and 
 long. 
 
 " Ha! ha! we(l, I'm getting an old woman ; finish a life in whose end the 
 hangman has a fee simple, with half an ounce of my own blue lead — ha ! ha!*' 
 
 A horseman, at a steady trot, was seen some mile off. "Ho! ho! shoot 
 myself — ha ! ha !'' cried he, as he gave another ineffectual suck at the flask. 
 ** ' My courage is out,' as the bold Mac-heath said ; pshaw, Tom King, Polly— 
 what the devil is my brain running on — gone by G — d, all of 'em, but I'm 
 
 left. D e. but this isn't a bad one coming, I know by his action," said 
 
 Dick, as he watched the approaching rider: "that fellow don't know there's 
 a gentleman waiting here to borrow his horse — ha! ha!" 
 
 " Stand !'' was the next word spoken, as Dick, with levelled pistol, walked 
 slowly to the centre of the roadway. 
 
 The stranger drew rein. The salute was so bold, so sudden, and so extra 
 ordinary, at such a time and at such a place, that the rider was inclined t 
 consider the whole a jest; more especially when he saw the flushed counte 
 nance, the disordered dress, and strange manner of the highwayman. 
 
 " Yon are disposed to be facetious, sir, this morning," said he. 
 
 The gesture and language of Turpin, however, soon convinced him to the 
 contrary ; and being unarmed, he was forced, after many manoeuvres to gain 
 time, to dismount, in compliance with Turpin's peremptory command. 
 
 " I shall not take your purse, sir," said Dick, when his search had finished ; 
 " but T shall recjuire your horse for the day. To-morrow, if you will pledge 
 me your word as a gentleman — which I see you are by the papers about you— 
 not to proceed farther in the affair, the animal shall be left at stables in the 
 city of York, of which I shall give you notice. Adieu, sir, for the present ; 
 and don't forget you have lent— lent, mark me. for I shall not want it long — 
 a horse to Dick Turpin : farewell !" and in a few minutes the favourite hack- 
 ney of Sir William Lamb was seen by its owner, at its best pace, ascending a 
 hill in the direction of Upton. 
 
 At Wentbridge a whet — and on, over stream and river, to Ferrybridge and the 
 Arc — by the cross-roads to Hilhim, Burton, Farborne, &c, to the hundred and 
 seventy-third milestone; a spanking trot up Betteress hill takes some of the con- 
 ceit out of his newprad,and he breathes her through the open country to Milford. 
 At Sherborne the flask is replenished ; the bloody field of Towton, where 
 England's best blood was shed in civil strife, is passed ; the beauteous Wharf 
 is seen stealing in shining silver its course among sylvan shades ; eight more 
 miles: Ringhouses is left behind! the windmill is to the left, and-— through 
 the Micklegate — York is beached ! 
 
DICK TURPIN 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXI V. 
 
 There's a diTtni ty tlmt sliapos our endt, 
 liough-liew lliem how we will, 
 
 — Shalispere. 
 
 In the days of our forefathers, the hardy sons of toil restricted their labour 
 to the hours which Nature herself points out. The night, "when no man 
 can work,'' was respected, if we may use the term, at both ends; and the 
 morning's sun was allowed to obtain undisputed possession of the sky, ere 
 adult, much more infant, labour was begun. No factories vcmiting smoke, 
 and glaring with gas, then dragged infant misery from its humble pallet, to 
 their stifling work-rooms, before darkness had withdrawn its veil ; while the 
 shuttle or the comb, the spindle or the reed, were cast aside, by old and young, 
 before Sol's broad face sunk behind the western hills, or quenched his radi- 
 ance in the crimsoned wave. Then was the dance led up beneath the ancient 
 tree on the village green; the quoit hurled, the football kicked; and some 
 maidv and healthful recreation succeeded the sedentary employment of the 
 day : or, shoidd the weather prove unfavourable, the ancient ballad, whose 
 lengthened narrative riveted attention, even though recited for the hundredth 
 time, alternated with the jest, the story, the tradition, or the " auld wife's 
 tale," as the grannam sat in the chimney-corner, " fast by the ingle." Such 
 was, in those days, the manner of life of the inhabitants of the great northern 
 districts, where the staple manufacture of doth was carried on. Has it im- 
 proved ? The dame who spun, and 1 he man who wove or carded, performed their 
 tasks by their own hearthstone : he did not crawl an emaciated, gin-besotted, 
 half-starved slave to the huge prison-looking, soul-crushing mill if the manu- 
 facturing Moloch; but in a cleanly cottage, with the wife of his bosom singing at 
 her wheel, and the children of his heart playing around, he pursued his task with 
 cheerful independence ; and the thatch of hiscottage peeped from the trees, mark- 
 ing the abode of industry, health, and contentment. Utilitarians may sneer, but 
 these things were so ; and neither the statistics of M'Culloch, the arguments 
 of Adam Smith, nor the twaddlings of an universe of poleetecal economists 
 and Scotch feelosofers, can gainsay the truth, that, if gold has been 
 gained, if tables of imports and exports have been swelled, if laden argosies 
 have multiplied on the face of the waters, yet contentment, independence, 
 morality, and above all, health and comfort have decreased among the wealth- 
 producing classes of the community: and shall gold weigh in the balance 
 against these things? We pause for a reply. 
 
 But if such was the position of the labourer, equally or still more easy and 
 otiose were the days of the small trader — the dweller in the city or the market 
 town. 'Tis true that on two days, or perchance three of the seven, he 
 was in what he would have termed " a bustle," seeing that market-day was 
 a busy day ; but at other times he enjoyed himself, literally enjoyed himself, 
 as with nut-brown jug, and pipe with ** lip of wax and eye of fire," he sat 
 at the polished oak table, and 
 
 Drank the mighty »le, 
 And told the merry tale; 
 
 whil* jollity, and mirth, and social chat, banished the few cares of a simple 
 
286 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 trading concern, which procured for the numerous tribe of small traders a 
 sufficiency for the creature-comforts of life. Where now are these races of 
 men ? where are the classes of society which have succeeded them ? what 
 transformation have they undergone ? The labourers have been swallowed 
 up, engulfed by the black throat of the factory fiend ; aye, even " childhood's 
 self, as at Ixion's wheel,'' has been crushed, the fair flower of blooming infancy 
 has been polluted and withered in the foul atmosphere of the gas-heated 
 bastile ; while the small traders, the independent, sturdy burgesses, have 
 merged into the sleek-headed, cringing, quill-driving-, degenerate race of 
 upper clerks, half-salaried serviles, in the great " establishment" of the " opu- 
 lent firm" of Wiggins, Spriggins, Dobbins, Dowling, Thorneycroft, & Co., 
 high and mighty lords in cotton, and traffickers in white slavery. 
 
 It was before such evil days fell on the land, that a group of substantial 
 shopkeepers, traders, and their friends, were assembled on the bowling-green 
 of the York Arms, enjoying the healthful diversion to which it was appropri- 
 ated — at least, the middle-aged and younger ones were doing so : the elders 
 of the party, with long pipe in mouth and tankard hard by, stood in a knot 
 near an open alcove, relating their own feats of by-gone days, and passing 
 strictures or jests on the game going forward. 
 
 A handsome looking man, in a riding frock, came from the house; his 
 smart London coat, attracted attention as he walked down the green with an 
 unsteady step, and on his nearer appoach it was evident, from his flushed 
 cheek and general bearing, that he was intoxicated, or nearly so. He bowed 
 politely to the assembly, but declined the proffered October. The reader will 
 not be at a loss to guess that the new-comer was our hero. A few minutes' 
 attention to his toilette, with the assistance of the boots and the waiter, had 
 removed the stains of travel and the marks of his long journey; but mere 
 dress or cleanliness of person could not conceal the nervous excitement, 
 aggravated by intoxication, which was manifest in his every word and gesture. 
 The game proceeded : the bets of mere groats and sixpences — or at most, the 
 venture of a tankard of ale, were as little suited to the then temperament of 
 Turpin as the prosaic dulness of their broad provincial talk. 
 
 Dick's irritation was of that kind which, like jealousy, increases " by the 
 food it feeds on." The excitement of drunkenness had become a necessarv 
 adjunct to his then state of existence. Madness, that worst of madness, which 
 man himself wills-— the madness which like its continual consequent, suicide, 
 is man's own act and deed — had hurled reason from her throne. 
 
 " Brandy," said Dick, to the staring clodhopper who waited upon the 
 frequenters of the bowling-green and skittle-ground. 
 
 " That's rayther strong drink to take by itself," said a prosy old gentle- 
 man in a striped woollen waistcoat, a brown Welsh wig, and a soft three-cor- 
 nered, felt hat, so much in fashion with the substantial burgess of 'tis now 
 a hundred years since. 
 
 Dick gave him a look that made the old gentleman start even to the huge 
 square-plated buckles of his square-toed shoes. 
 
 " Keep your opinion until you are asked for it," said he with a wasp.'sh- 
 ness which the innocence of the remark by no means called for : " Brandy, 
 fellow ! What are you gaping at ? 
 
 •' I'se not toald how much, Eur." 
 
 " A quart! a guinea's worth!" said the highwayman testily, throwing a 
 piece of gold bearing the head of th<» last queen who adorned the throne ©f 
 
DICK TURPIN. 287 
 
 Britain, now made happy under a third female rule— th» peaceful triumphs of 
 which, God grant ! may eclipse and cast into the shade the blood-stained 
 glories of an Elizabeth or an Anne. 
 
 The fellow took up the gold with the grin of satisfaction which may be sup- 
 posed to pass over the face of a Yorkshire tyke upon clutching so unexpected 
 a payment. " A'll git a hog out o' this flash chap ; he's a-thrawing his 
 shiners about rarely — he's a-given Sam the waiter a dollar for his boots — he's 
 a cooming oot — A'll put on my best purliteness." So saying, Rob made his 
 wav towards the house, and soon returned with the liquor and change. 
 
 Turpin had now shifted to another part of the green, and Rob, who gene- 
 rally guaged his customers, seeing his state, deposited the bottle of brandy 
 and glass upon the table, and forgot, with true North-country shrewdness, to 
 return the silver which he had received from the landlord. 
 
 " I'll bet you twenty I'll hit," said Dick to a staid, puritanical looking man in 
 a snuff-coloured coat w'th broad skirts, who had ventured to question his opinion 
 
 as to the bias of a bowl. '* D n ! do you take me for an ass ?" The man 
 
 to whom he spoke was at that moment poising the oblate sphere of wood in 
 his hand, and cocking his eye, with much more conceit, than skill, towards the 
 small ivory globe, so many times unsuccessfully aimed at, and which reposed 
 unharmed from thumps, near the centre of the emerald carpet of the bowling 
 ground. The man, we have said, was poising the bowl ; but, at the very 
 moment of launching his projectile, it was arrested by the hand of Turpin, 
 and snatched from his grasp with a rude abruptness which dumbfounded 
 the orderly and sedate woolstapler. Strong, however, in tho pride of his 
 respectability, and the countenance of his fellow citizens, the burgher, though 
 at heart a man of peace, resented the insult offered to his social importance, 
 by seizing the arm of Turpin, in an endeavour to regain the bowl. 
 
 He had not calculated the consequence of interfering with an intoxicated, 
 reckless, and desperate man ; suddenly was he prostrated by a back-handed 
 blow, and Dick, without noticing its consequences had, before the bystanders 
 recovered their astonishment at the uncalled-for outrage, delivered his bowl 
 with such precision as to strike the jack and follow it so as to place beyond 
 dispute the claim of his play as the winner. 
 
 " There, old boy," said he with «. braggadocio of inebriety ; " where's your 
 twenty? — fork out!"-— and he turned, unconscious of the effect of his thrust. 
 What was his surprise on seeing the elderly man, whose turn he had usurped, 
 just raised from the ground, with his face bleeding slightly from the rough 
 salute he had just received. The countenances of the bystanders spoke their 
 indignation ; but, though their looks were threatening, no one dared to give 
 utterance to his feelings. 
 
 The landlord by chance approached the spot, and half a dozen tongues were at 
 once let loose. " Mr. Hall !" exclaimed a chorus of voices, " do you allow 
 your regular customers to be insulted and aggravated by bullying chaps from 
 Lunnun, acos they wears jimmy coats, and calls for brandy?" 
 "Turn him out!" vociferated the company. 
 
 It is one thing to say and another to do : not one of the open-mouthed 
 roarers seemed, however, inclined to give effect to this unanimous vote of 
 expulsion, so far as venturing his own person was concerned, and, Dick, who 
 though intoxicated would still have been a formidable antagonist, placing his 
 back against the fence which enclosed three sides of the green, exclaimed, 
 "If you mean rough play, I'm ready!" 
 
3*8 DICK TfcfKPIN. 
 
 The firmly planted tout, the slightly bent back, the muscukr shoulder, 
 and the extended arms, well up to the head, in the style of Broughton, had 
 the effect which might have been expected on these men of peace. The host, 
 whose natural anxiety not to displease a good customer combated with his 
 wish to oblige the smoke-a-pipe party of neighbours who thus claimed his 
 interposition, accordingly tried conciliation; and Dick, after an apology 
 to the man he had struck — for that individual's honour was easily satisfied- 
 ordered punch, drank more brandy, and was rather tolerated than welcomed 
 by the players. The game went on, when an unlucky accident disturbed the 
 lately restored harmony. 
 
 It so happened that the host of the " York Arms" owned a splendid game 
 cock ; and if there was one living creature in this world which Boniface 
 prized beyond all others, it was this feathered biped. Cockfighting then 
 ranked high as an amusement, and Mr. Hall was, like most other 
 inhabitants of Yorkshire, mightily addicted to the sport. Dick was becoming 
 impatient of his companions, and looking about for something to divert 
 the uneasiness of thought, when this unlucky bird, springing from an adjoin- 
 ing yard on to the low fence, clapped its wings, and crowed loudly. 
 
 " He's down, for a hundred, with a single ball," said Dick, looking at the 
 bird. 
 
 Some of the party who considered their dignity had not been sufficiently 
 consulted by the landlord, felt gratified at the prospect of turning that person's 
 wrath against the drunken stranger. Dick drew a pistol from his vest, and 
 cocked it. " Who'll take my wager ?" hiccupped he ; not putting his query to 
 any one in particular. 
 
 " You can't do it — nor no other man," said he who had been struck. 
 
 Dick raised the short tube at the challenge looked along its shining 
 
 barrel-— steadied his hand — the light blue smoke curled off", and the gallant 
 bird lay fluttering its last on the gravel walk which skirted the paling. 
 
 " You'll have to pay through the nose for that joke, anyways," said one. 
 " It was a good shot, though ; Mister Hall vallys that ere bird at more than 
 I'd like to give for un. Squire Dixon offered him ten guineas, and — " 
 
 Rob, who had been a silent witness of the act, ran into the house with the 
 tidings of mischief, and the next moment, foaming with rage, his master burst 
 into the ground. The company receded to right and left, as the infuiiated 
 publican advanced towards the transgressor. 
 
 " How dare you, sir, to--- ;" he paused as he saw the ire of Turpin was 
 rising at his abrupt address. "Will you pay," he continued, " for the damage 
 you've done ?" 
 
 " Don't flurry yourself, old boy," said Dick ; *' what's the damage, eh V 
 
 11 Damage !"' iterated the landlord ; who was ever awake to business, and 
 who saw the easiness with which profit might be made, even of this untoward 
 event. " Damage ! why I can get twenty pound from Squire Nixon any 
 time : the bird was worth that gold anyhow: but, as you seem a gentleman, 
 111'—" 
 
 "Twenty devils! d'ye take me for a flat?" 
 
 " Ay, ay," retorted the angiy Boniface ; " or twenty days you're like to 
 get in quod. Have you any taste for anything in that line — eh?" 
 
 Turpin adranced towards the landlord with clenched fist ; but was seized 
 by half a dozen hands. 
 
DICK TURPI N. 
 
 2S9 
 
 Turpin shoots the Game Cork. 
 
 A swing released him from their hold: another moment, and Mr. Hall 
 would have got a harder blow than he bargained for, had not Rob caught 
 our hero an awkward trip : it was an under-leg one, and he dropped ; Rob 
 closed him. 
 
 With Dick's activity and sober caution, Rob's brute strength would, most 
 probably, have been below par ; but now, when sleight, sudden effort, and 
 stratagem were gone, the yokel's weight and power told fearfully. The tyke 
 threw himself on Turpin with a bursting fall, grasped him by the throat, and 
 pinned him to the earth. 
 
 " Fetch Mr. Grougham ! fetch Mr. Grougham !" exclaimed the landlord, 
 echoed by his customers. 
 
 Now Mr. Grougham was the constable to whom the taking and keeping of 
 all offenders against " the king's majesty, his crown and dignity," were en- 
 trusted by the parish in which the York Arms was situate ; and Mr. Groug- 
 ham's name was no sooner mentioned than two or three bystanders, glad 1o 
 be out of what seemed a serious row, started off in search of him. He was 
 soon found ; and in his charge our hero, — who confined his anger to remon- 
 strances against the indignity to which he had been last subject ; namely, the 
 unmanly advantage taken by the rustic waiter of his prostrate condition, 
 and the cruel maltreatment, of the " long odds" of some ten on one man, 
 seasoned with much commonplace braggadocio as to what, under other circum- 
 stances, other times, and with other people, he might, could, would, or should 
 have done — was walked off, drunk, desperate, swearing, and imbecile, to the 
 No. 37. 
 
290 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 cage ; and thence, after some minutes' delay, escorted to the house of Mr. 
 Thomas Jordan, citizen and grocer, he being the nearest justice of the peace. 
 
 The examination was short : Turpin, intoxicated and enraged, refused to 
 give compensation or apology, and further offended the dignity of the alder- 
 man by doggedly declining to furnish that functionary with his name, address, 
 or standing in society. 
 
 " I can't help saying, Mr. Hall,'' observed the mortified magistrate, " that 
 the prisoner is the most disrespectful and audacious that I ever saw in all my 
 magisterial experience, an i I've been one of this ancient corporation these 
 thirty years. He looks like a gentleman, too," said he, hesitating ; " maybe 
 some arrangement — a— a-understanding — might be come to yet. Perhaps if 
 you retired — you see, sir, I wish to temper justice with mercy — (this was Mr. 
 Jordan's stock-phrase, and it had carried him through many a dilemma) — 
 tempering mercy with justice, sir, is — a— a — do you see, doing — I would re- 
 commend you to compensate the prosecutor Mr. Hall, who is a most respectable 
 man, and I dare say he will not be exorbitant : you have committed also two 
 assaults, for which apology and reparation are required ; and sir, sitting here 
 as a magistrate desirous to temper justice with — " 
 
 The rigmarole of the fat-brained justice was here for the third or fourth 
 time interrupted by Dick, who declared much more plainly than courteously, 
 that he'd give Mr. Hall a guinea; but added, he'd see the whole of the com- 
 pany at a place whose name must not be mentioned to ears polite, before he'd 
 make other reparation ; and as to apology, he'd see them in the warm 
 quarters before alluded to, and even then— he'd make none at all. 
 
 " Then you must take the consequences of your contempt of this honorable 
 court," said the mortified great man, swelling with slighted importance ; " Mr. 
 Grougham," the constable bowed, " remove the prisoner ; keep him in safe 
 custody till tomorrow, and let him be brought before ourselves at the Guild- 
 hall; and I doubt not, when sober, he'll repent having abused my condescen- 
 sion and forbearance in this matter : for though I, as a justice, and a member 
 of this ancient corporation for thirty years, say it as shouldn't say it, I always 
 temper justice with mercy. — Remove the prisoner, Mr. Grougham !" 
 
 That evening and night our hero slept soundly in the kck-up of the Castle, 
 appropriated to drunken and disorderly characters ; his money and appearance, 
 however, procured him a bed and other attentions from the gaoler which or- 
 dinary or pennyless prisoners never received ; and it was broad day before tha 
 events of the ride, the altercation of the bowling-green, the examination be- 
 fore his worship, and his committal, presented themselves with sufficient dis- 
 tinctness to his returning: senses, to enable him to form a cleai notion of hi 
 
 s 
 
 position. 
 
 " Why what, in the name of all the devils, could have maddened me to 
 fight and brawl with those fellows; and— —yes, — surely that was what I was 
 charged with. I shot the landlord's game cock, I remember, just to astonish 
 a gaping set of old buzwigs ; why I'm becoming fool as well as braggart, as I 
 get older — Hallo ! gaoler, some drink here, I'm parched with thirst." 
 
 The man came, and for an extravagant price, furnished his charge with 
 some ale. The hours rolled on, and Dick, in due time, was placed at the 
 bar of the civic police office ! the charge was proceeded with, Mr. Hall had 
 agreed to accept an offer of five guineas, and all was going off smoothly, 
 when a most unexpected termination to the case was occasioned by the en- 
 trance of a middle aged gentleman in a brown riding suit. He looked long 
 
DICK TURPIN. 291 
 
 and steadily at the prisoner, who quailed not at the scrutiny. Some whisper- 
 ing took place on the bench ; several of the myrmidons of justice clustered 
 between Turpin and the door ; he looked round the court ; escape was out of 
 the question ; he therefore stood calmly, betraying by no outward emotion 
 the recognition which was certainly mutual — for he saw in the newly arrived 
 gentleman his old acquaintance, Captain Scott, of Scarborough ! 
 
 The next night was passed by Turpin, heavily ironed, in the gloomy dun- 
 geon of York Castle. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Troth, sirs, the clouted shoe hath oft-times craft iu't, 
 As says the rustic proverb; unci your citizen 
 In's grograni suit and chain, and well-blacked shoon, 
 Bears under his flat cap oft-times a brain 
 Wiser than dwells beneath a casque and feather. 
 Or seethes within the statesman's velvet night-cap. 
 
 — Old Play. 
 
 'Tin not in mortals to command success. 
 
 — Shakspere. 
 
 Though no railroads ribbed the land with iron, no tunnels perforated nor 
 viaducts spanned hill or valley, that news, merchandise, and travellers might 
 be transmitted from one extremity of " broad England" to the other, with 
 meteor-speed, yet good or ill news, provided it were worth the carrying, was 
 slowly and surely conveyed. A fortnight had elapsed, and Dick, upon a 
 second remand, awaited further identification in the gloomy keep of his for- 
 tress-prison. Thomas Creasey of Bullingbrook, of whom the reader may 
 remember some mention was made at the period when Dick left Lincolnshire 
 rather more hastily than convenient, had been one of the sufferers by the non- 
 settlement of Mr. Newton's affairs, and happening to be in Yorkshire pur- 
 chasing stock, he was soon on the spot, and sealed the fate of our hero by 
 procuring his commitment. But we must leave York, and return to London, 
 to look after some other personages who have figured in this our veritable 
 history. The death of King, and the escape of Turpin, were too notorious 
 and exciting in their nature to escape becoming the chat of taprooms and 
 barbers' shops ; but the interest of the variously-told story was wofully flag- 
 ging, when the intelligence of Turpin's capture being transmitted to the proper 
 quarters by the magistrates at York, public attention was again excited and 
 renewed. 
 
 " On est etranger a son voisin," observes Mercier, speaking of life in Paris, 
 and it is assuredly as true of any other great city. Men know but little of what 
 is going on around them ; and this indifference, amounting almost to ignorance, 
 is peculiar to the denizens of every " populous solitude." You may know a 
 countryman, or a newcomer, by his evident surprise and gaping curiosity, 
 excited by objects and occurrences which your citizen notices not, or notices 
 only to wonder at what the yokel sees in it to wonder at. Yet the nil 
 admirari of the cockney is but a proof that, accustomed to view a variety of 
 noticeable objects at an age when he lacks understanding to appreciate them, 
 reflection seldom arises in after life upon matters with which the lenses arc 
 
292 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 already familiar. London would intieed be a magazine of marvels io tiis 
 man who could only walk, with the eyes of his understanding open, from one 
 end of the city to the other; but how few men, possessing the necessary 
 amount of knowledge from habitual residence, are competent to such a task? 
 What extraordinary places are those colonies of one and two-story tene- 
 ments, which in the last fifty years, but more remarkably in the last twenty, 
 have covered the swamps of Lambeth, St. George's Fields, Walworth, &c.--- 
 the prolific brick and mortar progeny of the masses of masonry at Blackfriars 
 and Waterloo! What a peculiar squalor strikes the eye of the wayfarer as, 
 passing from the crowded and trading city, after crossing the ever-repairing 
 pont of Blackfriars, he turns to the right, and explores westward from the line 
 of Surrey Street! What lines of slightly-built houses, decaying even in their 
 lath and plaster infancy, mark out the miry and cut-throat streets covering 
 the ground of the gardens of the Halfpenny Hatch and the neighbourhood of 
 the St. George's Bunhouse, from the Riding School even to the back settle- 
 ments of the Victoria theatre. It is in summer only, or in a hard frost, that 
 these unpaved defiles are to be considered passable ; after dark, the pedestrian 
 wayfarer looks dubiously, from the gas-light at the corner in the " Road," into 
 the fog and gloom — resolves, then re-resolves — then doubts if the road " by 
 the Obelisk" is not as near. Lamps are few and far between in these marshy 
 fastnesses of prostitution and pilfering; the policeman at the corner glances 
 at you suspiciously, and slowly follows your steps, for he sees you a»e a 
 stranger in the land — and you wade on your muddy way, now up now down, 
 speculating, as you pass each puddle, on who can be the people, of what 
 means or what order, who reside in this paradise of pigs, dog-carts, and dila- 
 pidation. Tis dark, or at least, the only light visible is the feeble gleam 
 given from almost every window uniformly blinded by dingy calico ; and 
 within, by the occasional movements, you see the shadow of some female form 
 engaged in the arrangement of her hair, or her apparel, by a solitary dip ; in 
 another hour you shall meet her, after crossing " Waterloo' 1 or the " Minster," 
 on foot or in cab, as fortune may provide, smiling through rouge at the 
 theatres, or promenading the purlieus of the Strand, or of Covent Garden, in 
 all the glories of velvet, feathers, and silk. But if there be varieties in the 
 styles of the several locales of the metropolis, if its various quartiers exhibit 
 each its peculiar features, not less worthy of observation are the manners of 
 its inhabitants : nevertheless, so bound up are mankind in their business or 
 their pleasure — so formidable is the distance of one suburb from the other — 
 and there is such apathy about seeing novelties among a people who cannot 
 help seeing them every day, that there are thousands of people in mighty 
 Babylon who would never hear of the dwellers in another of its sections save 
 through a newspaper; nay, there are hundreds even among the dwellers of Isling- 
 ton who never crossed London or Southwark bridge, and whole parishes east of the 
 Royal Exchange, in which a dweller at Brompton would be as little at home 
 as if set down in the wastes of Kamschatka ! It is not only, however, that 
 you meet different descriptions ef people at different points, distinguished by 
 certain habits and manners peculiar to their calling — grooms and coachmen 
 about Hyde Park and Grosveuor Place; foreigners and grisettes about 
 Leicester Square ; droves of merchants and clerks in the Poultry and Corn- 
 iiill ; and sailors, crimps, &c, about Wapping and Limehouse— to the observant 
 eye, the very people themselves have a distinct expression of feature— a decidedly ' 
 different cast of countenance— in Aldgate or Piccadilly. Can any man look at 
 
DICK TURPIN. M 
 
 the Spitalfi*»lds weavers— -men, women, and children — and say that they re- 
 semble any other body of people in the metropolis? If sceptical, walk some 
 Sunday afternoon in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel and Bethnal Green, 
 and you shall scarcely meet one handsome female, when, more westward, you 
 would meet twenty. The race has deteriorated — snub-noses, small stature, 
 sunken eyes, wide mouth— the population is obviously inferior both education- 
 ally and physically. But Rome was not built, nor can London be examined, 
 in a day, so let us return to our Lambeth peregrinations. In a small house 
 near Cuper's Gardens, in the spot known as Petty France, had Madge Dutton 
 fixed herself; the vicinity of that once-popular place of amusement, now 
 existing but in name, rendering the quarter eligible to one of her precarious 
 profession. The unsuccessful pursuit of Bayes, and the wounding of Pearce, 
 she had heard from rumour ; and her knowledge of Dick's character led her 
 to suspect that, in deep disguise, he had returned to some lurking place in the 
 metropolis. The baffled officers seemed to have formed the like conjecture, 
 with the additional suspicion that Madge probably knew the place of his con- 
 cealment ; and consequently, for the day or two preceding the time of which we 
 are writing, she had been besieged by several offers of large reward on con- 
 dition of betraying a secret which was not in her possession. She was sitting 
 musing on the most likely plan by which to come at the desired knowledge, 
 when Roger Haynes, who had recently hired himself at the neighbouring 
 alehouse — then, as now, bearing the sign of the " Three Loggerheads,''* 
 hastily entered. 
 
 " Eh, Mistriss Margaret,'' said the rough fellow, " here's a foine to do wi* 
 measter, as I'll ever ca' un ; there be two vellers at the ' Heads,' as ses they've 
 knowledge of his bein' took, and as he's in York Castle, and a sight more on't.'' 
 
 Madge turned pale. "Give me my bonnet — what sort of men are they? 
 — I saw it on the cards, so I know it's true — it came up four times — trouble 
 and a dark man, from a distance," and muttering incoherent allusions to the 
 appeal to the cards, adopted by such females in their endeavours to dive into 
 futurity, she hastened to the ale-house, where she found the subject occupied 
 all tongues. 
 
 " Well, he's stagged now I s'pose,'' said one ; " he's done for this tttrnj; 
 they do say, he's ridden from Lunnun to York, a matter of two hundred mile, 
 in ten hours, or thereaway." 
 
 " Unpossible ! " ejaculated his companion, who seemed to have more definite 
 ideas on the subject of equestrian performances, "'taint in human natur', no, 
 nor hanimal natur* neether, to do no sich a thing. Two hundred mile in a 
 night ! no, no, tell that to the marines." 
 
 " Well, he's safe in York Castle now, anyways, and if he gets out o' that 
 he's a clever un. I see Bayes, yesterday, he was on the dodge arter an old 
 flame o' Dick's as hangs out hereaways, for he didn't have the knowledge 
 then as the nobby chap had sold hisself at York. He'll have a bit of a lay 
 there, and plenty o' time to settle his worldly bisness, for it '11 be some months 
 afore 'sizes yet." 
 
 Madge, who had been an attentive and interested listener to^ this talk, 
 drew Roger from the room. 
 
 " I'll go to York : will you come with me ? I'll see him ; perhaps I may be 
 able to serve — perhaps to save him — God grant---." and the woman, bad and 
 
 • The homely wit of the sign consists in two grinning heads, with the inscription, 
 " We three loggerheads be ;" whieh whoso passes may read aloud — if he please*. 
 
M4 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 base as the world would deem her, prayed ; do not smile reader, prayed that 
 she might be able to serve, in his dire necessity, the man who had abused, 
 scorned and neglected her. 
 
 Roger Haynes scratched his ear perplexedly ; not that he was in doubt, not 
 that he hesitated, or feared the risk, but purely from slowness of thought and 
 utterance. 
 
 "You 's taken the woids out o' my mouth, missus ; a wor a goin* to per- 
 pose as a should goa to York mysen, a knows t' ould Castle well, a does ; 
 a's seed it mony and monys the time. There's the Ouse and the Foss j'ines, 
 d'ye see, and th' new jail* stands o' th' square — a doan't mind tellin* it to 'ee, but 
 a knows every nick and cranny o' th' place, and if there's vartue in file or saw, 
 or strength in this," and the burly fellow looked at his clenched fist, " whoy 
 a ses it, and a'il do it. But talkin' isn't doin', missus," saidj he, checking 
 himself, " how's 'ee to get there, missus ? it's a distance, worse luck ; a've two 
 guineas and that's all in this 'varsal world." 
 
 Madge promised to see him in the evening, and she did so. The next 
 morning they were on the road, Roger mounted on a stout heavy horse, and 
 Madge seated on a pillion behind him. 
 
 It was the evening of the sixth day that the majestic towers of the gor- 
 geous minster of York greeted their eyes; as the splendent rays of the 
 setting sun fell on pinnacle, spire, fret-work, and tracery, glancing on the 
 elaborate carvings, rendering more beautifully prominent the projections, and 
 casting into picturesque shadow the receding portions. It was dusk when 
 they entered ; and having taken up their quarters in the Ousegate, Roger, 
 who knew the city well, went out for the purpose of gaining the information 
 necessary for the execution of their project. 
 
 " There's a house some'ere hereabout, if a'm not mistook, as is used by 
 Dave Clank, th' under-turnkey — ay, ay, l'se roight agin," said Roger, as he 
 entered the alehouse he was in search of, and his ear was greeted by a 
 drinking song, roared out with right good will by the rough yet not unmusical 
 voice of the very man he was seeking. 
 
 Dave Clank, or merry Davy, as he was more commonly called, was a 
 singular character. He was a boon ccmpanion, never shirked his ale, and 
 was generally liked, despite his odious profession, by the rude and low society 
 with which he mixed. Originally a blacksmith, he had acquired his present 
 post by the interest of a nobleman to whom his trade had incidentally intro- 
 duced him : he was naturally shrewd and penetrating, yet easy and good 
 natured, and lacked not judgment, though easily won by soft words. Dave 
 was, in short, a honest man. The writer doubts not this character of a 
 gaoler will startle the readers of romances and melodramas — upon that he 
 calculates ; but may he not put it to the man of the world, or the man of re- 
 flection, whether such a character is not to the full as natural — nay, that it 
 is much more natural and true— than the ridiculous pattern-card ruffians 
 and wily knaves pictured with such ridiculous, punctual, and unmistake- 
 able uniformity as the gaolers or turnkeys of prisons. Gentle reader, did 
 you ever see any one of these pictures realised? It is amazing how 
 
 * * That is the new jail, which was erected in 1701. The ancient fortress was dis- 
 mantled by Cromwell, afterwards seriously injured by fire, |in 1685, and then con- 
 verted into a prison. Ob its site a new jail and court-house were built, in the year 
 first-named. The present jail of thiee stories, with its cupola— and the County hall, 
 withits hexastyle portico, are respectively of the dates of 1807 and 1777. 
 
DICK TURPIN. it) 5 
 
 much we are the creatures of education and of impression. The powerful 
 imagination of some master-spirit writes on the tabula rasa of our brain— -the 
 blank sheet of our early mind is marked indelibly with the talismanic charac- 
 ters of the poetic wizard— and all villains are referred to the great type which 
 has filled our conceptions, until we care not to imagine human nature as it is, 
 though its thousand inconsistencies lie daily before us; but, wedded to 
 system where there is none, frame a fancied character, and require probability 
 — aye, and even fact— to bow down before the unreal image of our fantasy. 
 
 Dave Clank was, as we have said before, an honest fellow, and a good 
 blacksmith. Too fond, it is true, of a drop, but by no means what might be 
 termed " a soft one ! " Long since, Roger and he had been boon companions, 
 and together they had more than once violated the game laws ; an offence 
 which no countryman looked on as crime. — Nay, a little poaching, among a 
 certain class of society, was regarded as a sort of test of spirit — a proof of per- 
 sonal courage ; so little had those iniquitous laws, power against common sense 
 which tells men that the feres valurce are the common gift of the Great 
 Provider of all. On the score of former acquaintance, therefore, Roger had 
 a fair claim to introduce himself. His remarkable stature, and renown for bo- 
 dily strength rendered him no common-place personage, and, consequently 
 one not readily forgotten by his rustic comrades. His entrance was the sig- 
 nal for a general recognition.—" Whoy ! here's Roger Haynes, by gum ! — How 
 beest thee, my mon, th' soight o' thee's good for sore eyen. — Coom, wet thee 
 whustle, ould chap, or wool 'ee loike summut else better ;" and similar expres- 
 sions of kindly feeling, which might shame more polished society, were uttered 
 by the assembled North-country-men. 
 
 There is a fervour of attachment, an endearing, an abiding consistency of 
 friendship or of hate, among the northern inhabitants of the earth, which is a 
 problem in psychology that the most acute metaphysicians cannot solve. They may 
 tell us that the passion easily excited, is like the "hasty spark struck from the 
 flint, which straight is cold again," or that the young man's anger is like the 
 blazing stubble, the old man's like red hot steel ; but this does not meet the 
 question, why, with cool judgment, hasty temper should anomalously be joined ; 
 or why the coldest and least excitable races of mankind should exhibit a 
 warmth of feeling as friends, and an enduring " faithfulness of antique ser- 
 vice" as dependants, which we look for in vain among the more ardent, fervent, 
 and therefore loveable, men and women of climes nearer to the sun. But 
 this is digression. 
 
 Hearty was the welcome, and boisterously friendly the salute, which 
 greeted Roger Haynes ; and his only difficulty was which to choose of the 
 proffered seats ; his mission, however, was uppermost in his mind, so he 
 placed himself beside the laughing Dave Clank. The conversation turned, 
 even sooner than he expected, on the important prisoner now in durance vile 
 in the stronghold of the once-capital and court residence of England's sove- 
 reigns. 
 
 " A'll pound it as they hang 'un afore next Candlemas," said one of the 
 fellows ; " I hear as the king hisself ha* sent a letter to the judges as is to 
 try 'un, so there's no hopes no how." 
 
 "The king ha' doon nothin' o' th' sort," said another; " they woant hang 
 'un at all, I tell 'ee ; vor the Duke o' Newcastle, as manages they things for 
 the king, promised 'un when he robbed him, as he'd save his life when he sent 
 him a ring as he gave 'un." 
 
29 G DICK TURPIN. 
 
 '' "Ay, av," responded a third; "but I wor tould quite different ; and as how 
 Mr. Hall did say as he'd zee 'un wor hanged for shootin' his geara cock." 
 
 Such were the comments and conversation of these unlettered bumpkins 
 and he who thinks these absurdities are over-drawn, and that, even at the 
 present day, in this land of pseudo-enlightenment and civilisation, where every 
 man is supposed, by a legal fiction, to take cognizance of the law, such igno- 
 rance is not rife, knows little of the social state of his countrymen. The 
 writer of these pages accidentally heard a discussion among a set of stable- 
 men in the immediate rieighbourhood of London, whether the last-named 
 offence, namely, the shooting a game cock, was not the crime for which Turpin 
 was executed! And yet, in such a state of popular ignorance, parson-justices 
 and education-opposing prelates hold up their hands in astonishment that 
 maniac Courtenay, socialist Owen, or the political fanatic Frost, should find 
 dupes and followers among the benighted masses which bigotry and intoler- 
 ance have fostered to become their own scourge. 
 
 Thus even-handed justice 
 Commends the poisoned chalice 
 To their own lips; 
 
 and well would it be if the indiscriminating fury of the masses, whom they have 
 wilfully bred up in mental blindness, spent itself only on the caste at whose 
 door lies the crime of their ignorance ; but, unfortunately, for national sins, the 
 whole people suffer, not alone in the persons of the deluded, but in their 
 general liberty — and freedom receives a wound from the trenchant swordwhich 
 the law uplifts to smite rebellion. 
 
 The chat went on ; Dave Clank grew talkative, for Roger was liberal in 
 filling his horn with the humming stingo, and he, in the heat of debate — for 
 Dave was a 6ort of legal authority on all matters relating to the 'sizes- 
 did not notice the frequent repetition of the exhilarating cup. 
 
 " He's a gentleman, all out— and who says no !'' exclaimed Dave ; " one 
 o' the right sort, and a good looking chap too. I've heard, though I don't 
 know it for certain, as he's a son to some great nob— only it's kept a secret; 
 and that, if he do come to be hanged, he'll have none but a silken cord."* 
 
 " I'd a-like mainly to zee this same Turpin,'' said Roger ; " I've a half 
 nction as I've a-seen him in Lunnun.'* 
 
 "Thee shalt see 'un, my boy," rejoined Dave ; "but I mnsn't let 'ee in 
 till the morn ; cooin at ten, and thee shalt zee 'un, so sure as my name's Dave 
 Clank, but tonight's Jan Reeves's turn at the lock." 
 
 Roo-er returned to Madge highly delighted with the success of his scheme ; 
 and at the appointed hour he presented himself to his friend Dave. 
 
 " I've told 'ee as ye shuld see Dick," said Dave, as the ponderous key 
 turned the huge lock which formed the entrance into the press-yard of the 
 gaol; " we've had several gentry, I can tell 'ee, to zee 'un ; and a main deal 
 .>' likiu' they seem, 'specially the ladies, to feel for 'un ; 'tesn't in natur to 
 see sich a noice swell of a chap cut off i' the flower, as one may say, wi'out 
 wish in' 'un a ' safe deliverance,' as his honour the judge ses when he knows 
 as they a-goin' to hang the poor devil i' the dock." 
 
 * A popular prejudice that the son of a nobleman, if hanged, is entitled to a silken 
 cord from the sheriff. In the account of the execution of Karl Ferrers, for the murder 
 of Mr. Johnson, his steward, it is stated that platted silk cord was used for the 
 purpose. 
 
Dine TntPiN. 
 
 297 
 
 The escape of Turpin frustrated. 
 
 They crossed the quadrangle, and entering another strong oaken door, plated 
 and studded with iron, Dave showed his friend along a narrow and dark stone 
 passage, a few steps brought them to a landing, into which a small grated 
 window threw a stream of light, which was again transmitted through another 
 strongly barred aperture int»the prisoner's cell — other ingress for air orsun there 
 was none. This gloomy cell, in which the prisoners charged with felony were 
 then confined, even before trial, was deemed the safest and strongest in the 
 castle-jail ; and the renown of our hero had earned him the unenviable distinc- 
 tion of its occupancy. Its form was that of a casemate — a low arch of mas- 
 sive masonry formed its roof and sides, and its back was the ancient flank- 
 ing wall of the fortress, of enormous thickness, and impenetrable from the 
 adamantine hardness which centuries had lent, to the flinty groutwork of which 
 it was built. Dave pointed silently to the grating ; and Roger, whose im- 
 mense height enabled him to dispense with the assistance of the log of wood 
 which lay for the convenience of shorter men, peeped through. 
 
 It was not until the eye became accustomed to the imperfect light, that the 
 visitor could perceive objects with anything like clearness ; and Roger stared 
 for some moments into the dusky hole, rendered still darker by the interposi- 
 tion of his own huge head, before he could clearly make out the prisoner. 
 Turpin raised his eyes, as the darker shade passed between himself and the 
 scanty light, his long linked fetters rattled, and without recognizing his friend, 
 indeed it was difficult he should, turned his back, as if resenting the frequent 
 impertinence, then slowlr and painfullv drew the ring attached to the ankle of 
 No. 38. 
 
298 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 his chain along the round iron bar which Roger now saw traversed the apart- 
 ment from side to side, where it was firmly set in the solid modern stonework. 
 A sigh escaped the rough fellow, and he wiped a moisture from his eye with 
 his coat sleeve — Dave Clank had little idea of the thoughts passing in the 
 mind of his quondam friend at that moment. 
 
 " If a' wor to gi'e little Dave a douse o' th' head, 'twouldn't be no use to 
 un, poor feller," thought he, as he looked at his whilom master; " That 'ud 
 only be a-making trouble worse ; a've a spring saw in my pouch — but a' can't 
 gi'e it to un : dang it ! a' must goa back as a' coomed, an' talk this here oaver 
 wi' missus — they wimen be "cuter nor us. — Poor feller," said he, turning to 
 Dave, and speaking aloud, "he aint th' man though as a seed once in Lunnun, as 
 they ses is Dick Tuvpin," added Roger, casting his eye cunningly into the 
 cell. The prisoner started at the sound of his voice, and looked toward the 
 grating. Again the ring grated on the bar, and the chains clanked gently, 
 as Turpin, with a brightened countenance, shuffled near the window, to make 
 sure of the identity of Roger. We have said that Dave was too short to look 
 in, unless mounted on the log, even had the small window permitted more 
 than one gazer at a time : Dick raised his shackled hands, and significantly 
 rubbing his forefinger on the chain, as if in the act of filing, told his desire. 
 
 " Coom, coom, Roger lad," said Dave, who thought the peep had lasted 
 long enough. Roger was just watching an opportunity for slipping the 
 cloc-spring saw through the bars, when Dave destroyed his hopes by opening 
 the small turnwheel in the door, through which, at stated hours, the prisoner 
 received his gaol allowance. As he drew back the hinged shelf on which stood 
 a small brown pitcher and an untouched oaten cake, the turnkey obtained a 
 view of his prisoner, who turned away with affected indifference : — Roger 
 saw there was no present chance, and though loath to depart, depart he 
 did, for fear of awakening his friend's suspicions. They retired to the 
 turnkey's lodge ; whence, after standing a mug or two in consideration of Clank's 
 civility, Roger hastened home to his mistress. 
 
 Deep was the distress of Madge, and painfully ludicrous the perplexed con- 
 solations of Roger, as they talked over the hopeless situation of Turpin. 
 
 " Could not I get to him, Roger ? if once I get in I'll answer it he shall 
 not again need to ask for saw or file — I don't care for anything they can do 
 to me, even should they detect me. Couldn't you get me a sight of Clank, 
 and say that I am the prisoner's wife? — Wouldn't they let me see him then ? " 
 
 " They mought, to be zure, do that much," said Roger ; " but then they'd 
 search 'ee goin' in an* coomin' out, be sure on't; so how 'tis to be doon a doant 
 zee, no more nor a pig zees th' wind." 
 
 " Show me the saw you've made? " the saw was produced; it was some 
 five inches in length, by half an inch in breadth, and rolled up easily into a 
 small circumference. 
 
 "That's what ull do th' ir'ns, missus," said Roger, looking c.mplaisantly 
 at its serrated edge, — " an' if they can be coomed over, all do th' rest, never 
 fear me, or a'll swing for un, that's flat," and he emphasised his asseveration 
 by a thump on the thigh that might have broken the leg of a dancing master. 
 
 " Then I'll do that,'' replied Madge, with a forced gaiety. " We'll free 
 him yet, Roger. — You don't know what L dare do : you shall see soon, though; 
 and unkind though he has been, I'll yet save him, and we'll all go abroad, 
 Roger, and be happy. Til work my fingers' ends off; but he shall never, ne- 
 ver more risk his life if I can nrevail on him, and I think I can," said the silly 
 
DICK TURPIN. 239 
 
 short-si^hte 1 woman, pursuing the building of her air-built castle. The thought, 
 absurd and extravagant as it was, cheered and inspired her ; and a blessing it 
 is for frail humanity, that hope is left to brighten the gloomiest prospect — and 
 that still, in spite of reason and experience, she shines forth, even though de- 
 lusivelv, in the darkest storm of life. We have said Madge was cheered ; she 
 saw. or thought she saw, a chance of his deliverance, and she set about the 
 necessary preparations in earnest. 
 
 That very day she waited upon Mr. Jordan at his house, and found the 
 worthy alderman, who was, ex officio, one of the visiting magistrates, 
 dozino- in an easy chair ; for though it was yet not far past noon, 
 the wealthy trader had already dined. The apartment had an air of 
 old-fashioned comfort and substantiality about it, which we may look, for 
 in vain in the rooms of modern rich men. The walls were pannelled with dark 
 oak, and the heavy mantel piece of the same wood was elaborately carved, 
 as were also the legs of the polished table, and high-backed chairs, the stuff- 
 ed seats of the latter being covered withbrilliant needlework, the patient do- 
 mestic triumphs of some Dorothy, Grizzel, or Maud of the house they adorned. 
 The walls, too, were not without ornament ; a large, dull, oval looking-glass 
 hun°; in the pier between the windows, and on the other side two similar 
 oval frames contained each a most astounding attempt at pictorial display. 
 Here stood a mighty tower on the top of a river, instead of beside it, dis- 
 playing a multitude of smaller towers growing out of its top, in all possible 
 and impossible directions, bearing a mighty resemblance to a milestone run 
 to seed; and beside it two marvellous proper swans, each as big as the cas- 
 tle, sailed along, stuck against its wall, so admirably was the perspective ob- 
 serve I : the designer had, however, condescended, by means of a bright yellow 
 and red line, to typify that the said swans, or whatever else they might be, 
 were not swimming upon nothing. The other frame was rather less Sphynx- 
 like in its contents : it displayed a huge jar, or vase, out of the top of which 
 grew a collection of brimstone coloured roses, blue apples, red lilies, and a brown 
 daisy or two, as big again as either roses, apples, or lilies ; wondering at the 
 floral phenomena you approached, and in gridiron-looking characters, which at 
 first sight an orientalist might take for Sanscrit, you read — "Agatha Jordan, 
 aged 16, her work, done in the year of our Lord, mdcci," and again found that 
 the pencil of our industrious great granddames was their needle. 
 
 "Uncle, dear," said a light, fair-haired, rosycheeked damsel, as she placed 
 her hand gently and affectionately on the old man's shoulder, to draw his at- 
 tention, " there's a young woman down stairs, wishes to see you on business, 
 she says ; by her talk I take her to be London." 
 
 " Ave, aye," said the old gentleman, rising, " send her up, Lettice," and 
 Madge Dntton entered, dropping her best curtesy. 
 
 "And so you're the unfortunate prisoner's sister, you say, eh? "said the old 
 gentleman, as Madge concluded her application, "and you wish to see him — Dm 
 sorry for you, indeed, very sorry ; it's quite natural you should see him, quite na- 
 tural, and as I love to temper justice with mercy, d'ye see; and like to do jus- 
 tice, and to temper it with mercy," added he, drawing a silver standish 
 towards him, and dipping the pen. Mr. Jordan, though rich and respected, was 
 by no means great in caligraphy, indeed his chief efforts in that way had 
 seldom gone beyond figures on a slate, to assist his mental calculations. After 
 some difficulty, however, he got through the desired scrawl, requiring the 
 jailer to admit the bearer, the sister of Richard Turpin, to see him at a 
 proper hour. 
 
300 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Madge soon contrived her part of the scheme. The impression produced 
 on her mind by the hard diet to which he was restricted presented itself. 
 
 " I dare say I could bribe the jailer to let me take him in a little some- 
 thing ? " Roger seemed to think the idea feasible. " I'll tell you the way 
 we'lldo it, Roger. I'll make a small pork pie, without a dish, and put this saw 
 into it, and I'll ask Clank, as a favour, to let him have it : will that do, think 
 
 you?" 
 
 " Noa, noa," 6aid Roger, " offer un summut i' the way o' some money, that's 
 the way to they chaps' hearts : " Madge agreed. " An' a've better news still," 
 continued Roger, •« I ha' bin watching slily aboot lh' ould castle, an' a'll tell 
 *ee a secret : — there's a big drain runs from th' poomp i' th' jail-yard into th' 
 Foss ; and there's th' grating as covers it to get up from underneath — a spied 
 it oot this mortal day, an' its that-a-way as 'ull gi'e um th' slip afore they 
 can say trapsticks," and Roger snapped his finger and thumb as if despising 
 all obstacles to his plan. 
 
 " There's your seester be coom," said Clank, as he opened the door of 
 Turpin's eel! on the following morning to make a few arrangements of straw, 
 &e — Turpin stared but said nothing. " She be a toydyish looking wench, 'pon 
 my sowl — she ha' gotten an order fra' his worship as she's to see you, an' old 
 Missus Reeves is overhaulin' her jist now, to zee as she ha' brought nothin' 
 as is'nt allowed : I'll bring her in a'most directly." 
 
 Turpin was perplexed, but his perplexity gave way to a feeling of indigna- 
 tion, as Clank again entered, followed by Madge Dutton. Madge started, 
 her colour went and came, and she leaned one hand against the wall for 
 support ; while Dick, after a moment's stern scrutiny, turned his back in angry 
 contempt. 
 
 " Richard, pray do not turn from me," said she " what have I done to de- 
 serve this? True I have been a betrayer, but not to you. Do the rules of 
 this horrid place allow us to be left alone ? " said Madge, looking at Clank : 
 the man did not reply ; but Madge, interpreting his meaning, slipped a seven- 
 shilling piece into his hand. Davo touched his forelock, and retired without 
 the door, muttering — " He doan't seem vary looving to his sister ony hows — 
 I'd ha' show'd her more manners, I'm thinkin', if so be I wor in his place, an' 
 she had a-coom two hunderd mile to see me." 
 
 We will not detail the interview. Though Madge but half convinced Turpin, 
 he was not in a position to throw away a chance : the tool was left in its 
 dough covering ; and the next night, at eleven, fixed for Roger's attempt. 
 Madge undertook to furnish a disguise, and Turpin waited anxiously the arri- 
 val of nightfall to begin the task of freeing himself from his fetters. 
 
 ******** 
 
 "Two gentlemen fra Lunnun wishes to see his worship the mayor, on 'tick- 
 ler matters," said a bumpkin footman, in worsted lace, opening the parlour door 
 of the civic functionary. 
 
 " I'm at dinner, Darby," was that important personage's reply. " Stay, 
 Darby, what like be they — tradesmen — eh? if so, they can wait," added his 
 lordship: " people pestering for orders, I shouldn't wonder; I'm at dinner, 
 say, and will see them in the afternoon at my counting-house ;'' and the mayor 
 resumed his operation of picking his teeth, which the entrance of Darby had 
 interrupted. The servant soon returned. 
 
 " They ses as how your lordship must be seen, for 'tis gover'ment bisness 
 as thev is on." 
 
DICK TURPIN. 301 
 
 The aspect of the mayor changed. "Draw up the table, Darby — place the 
 sta.idish — here, give me that book," the 'Guide for Justices of the Peace,' was 
 placed on the table — " pens, here — quiek and send Mister Robins word to 
 step up from the office.— Shew them in-— an important communication from 
 the Secretary of State, no doubt — how did they come ? '' 
 
 " In a poshay, my lord." 
 
 "Ay, ay, king's messengers, no doubt. — show them in, Darby — bustle, man! 
 look alive." The strangers were ushered in. 
 
 They were vulgar-looking fellows, on whose countenances were stamped 
 cunning and villany. Mr. Thrapston did not much admire their looks, for 
 though little of a physiognomist, he plainly saw they were not gentlemen. 
 
 " Servant, your worship," said the foremost ; a stout man of forbidding 
 aspect. 
 
 " Be seated, gentlemen," said his lordship, as Darby placed them chairs. 
 
 " No, no, your worship," replied the fellow, " Dick Bayes knows his place 
 
 too well to sit down afore a gentleman in his majesty's commission o' the 
 
 peace. 'May be you ha' heerd o' Dick Bayes, sir, the vigilant London officer! 
 
 but if von ha'n't, that 'ere, your worship, will fully 'quaint you with our ar- 
 
 rand/' The speaker tendered a long, narrow strip of printed paper, the blanks 
 
 of which were filled up with a pen ; his lordship knew the look of such do- 
 
 .uiments, well. He read its contents, authorising the bearers to apprehend 
 
 ind lodge in any of his majesty's jails, the body of our hero ; andstraitly charg- 
 
 ng and commanding all justices of the peace, constables, and other loyal sub- 
 
 ects to be aiding and assisting therein. His lordship smiled pompously. 
 
 "The day after the fair, in this matter, entirely, Mr. Bayes; the vigilance 
 and zeal of the magistrates of York have already executed that object ; Rich- 
 and Turpin is now, and has been for some days, safe in York castle. My 
 servant, Darby, will show you to the kitchen, though, where a glass of good 
 ale awaits you, after your long journey, which, I feel proud to say, our acti- 
 vity has entirely got the start of." 
 
 Dick Bayes and his comrade Bill Johnson knew their cue too well to in- 
 terrupt the magistrate before he had entirely said his say : but his lordship 
 was surprised, when he waved his hand, to find his offer not accepted with 
 the alacrity he expected, or the accustomed thanks returned for his liberal 
 condescension. Bayes stood, crushing his hat between his hands, and making 
 a scrape with his foot, as if preparing something in the way of disclosure. 
 
 " ^ e g your lordship's pardon, but we London men flatters ourselves as we 
 knows a thing or two — and we're not so blind as we carn't see a hole through 
 a ladder. I should say your prisoner ain't by no means so safe as he might 
 be made, if so be one or two more was jined with him in other rooms o' the 
 same stone pitcher." 
 
 " You speak in riddles, man,'' said his lordship. 
 
 Mr. Robins, the mayor's factotum, entered, with a smile on his face and a 
 pen in his hand. 
 
 " Your lordship's pleasure ?" said the confidential clerk. 
 
 " Take a seat at the table, Robins. These are two officers from London, 
 come to apprehend Turpin; and," continued his lordship, "once well done, 
 gentlemen, is twice done, d'ye see ; he's safe enough in our keeping, I should 
 sav, Robins, eh ?" 
 
 Robins refleoted his master's grin, obsequiously echoed a faint duplication 
 
302 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 of his master's laughter, and looked at the thieftakers with second-hand 
 importance — as much^j as to say, " d'ye take the lord mayor of York and 
 his clerk for ignoramuses ?" The two fellows, however, stood the proof of 
 their facetiousness without moving a muscle. 
 
 " Your worshups, (for they were not aware of the quality of Mr. Robins,) 
 will hear us out, I hope, for the sake of the king's service ; and when we've 
 done, may be you may think otherwise from what you now does. We knows 
 well enough all about the taking o' the prisoner ; sich things we has the 
 'arliest knowledge on: but there's a summut behind your worshups doesn't 
 know. Two desperate 'complices o' Turpin is now in this very city ; ws 
 tracked 'em down ; and 'tisn't for no good as they're lurking about here, any- 
 how." 
 
 Mr. Thrapston looked at his clerk, and his clerk looked at him, while 
 Bayes went on :— 
 
 " Notorious characters, I can assure your worshups; let us alone for know- 
 ing o' their movements ; she — for one on 'em is a woman-—has been a kind 
 o' tin pot— a mistress I mean, saving your worshups' presence— to Turpin 
 this long's past; and as for him, he's an out and out cracksman, and has been 
 a poacher. Well these two leaves Lunnun, a week ago, in a clandestine way, 
 and takes 'em two selves down here ; aye, and more than that, I've heard as 
 she was known to say, afore setting out, to a woman of her own sort, as how 
 she'd have the prisoner out, or else she'd not come back alive ; so I want's 
 your worshups'' warrant like, and I'll answer for proving the rest on't." 
 
 His lordship looked perplexed. 
 
 "Ring the bell, Robins." 
 
 Darby entered. 
 
 " Run to Alderman Jordan's, and request he will favour me with a few 
 minutes of his time : make haste." 
 
 The footman departed, and the worthy alderman, who lived only a street 
 off, soon joined the trio. He listened to the tale as retailed to him by Mr. 
 Robins, amplified and illustrated by various interpolations from Bayes ; but 
 when he arrived at the point where the woman was mentioned, he appeared 
 remarkably-uneasy. 
 
 " You know this woman, eh?" said Mr. Jordan, turning to Bayes. 
 
 " I should think so, your worship: a stoutish, good-looking — what we 
 calls, saving your worshups' presence, a crummy piece, and rayther — '' 
 
 " Whew !" said Mr. Jordan, with a most unmagisterial whistle, or rather 
 an abortion of one ; " why, brother Thrapston, this is the very hussey that 
 called on me yesterday, with a story of her being the prisoner's sister ; and 
 cried very naturally too, I can assure you ; and as I always desire to temper 
 justice with mercy, brother Thrapston, why, I've given her an order for ad- 
 mission at all proper times to see him." 
 
 " Then I wouldn't wonder at all, if Mister Turpin isn't off by this time in 
 a pair o' petticoats and a bonnet," said Bayes, tartly ; " and you've Madge 
 Dutton in his stead, who'll not be quite so much sarvice to the inds o' justice 
 as the right 'un, seeing you can't very nicely hang her for Turpin's robberies, 
 whateyer else you may do. Oh, I knows these women, your worshups; they're 
 queer craft, and do rum things when they're once put on 'em." 
 
 Doubt and alarm were pictured on the faces of the civic magistrates, and 
 his lordship suddenly changed his tone. 
 
DICK TURPI N. r 303 
 
 " Really this is most important information, Mr. Bayes," said the mavor ; 
 " hadn't we better send for the gaoler, and put him on his guard not to let 
 that woman in. I don't see how we can give warrants, though, against these 
 people, if you don't swear to some offence." 
 
 " Leave that to me : here's my companion can swear to his suspicion, and 
 summat more, as to a burglary at one Squire Asher's ; and I can swear to a 
 
 genelman's watch as she But furst, your worships," said he, " allow me 
 
 and my comp. here jist to step down to the gaol, and take a look unbeknown 
 at the prisoner — we both knows him — and after leave it to us to trace and 
 make safe this here kipple o' bad 'uns. Put the bisness in our hands, your 
 worshups, and it's all safe as a trivet." 
 
 " I'll go down with them to the gaol myself," said Mr. Jordan. 
 
 They went, and there learned that Madge had had a long interview with 
 the prisoner. Bayes was, however, too fond of making his own knowledge mys- 
 terious, to breathe a word to Clank about Roger Haynes, until he had made 
 further inquiries : they saw Turpin without his seeing them, and found their 
 conjecture incorrect — the right one was still safe. They returned to the 
 mayor, and were armed with the necessary warrants. 
 
 It was now dusk ; yet Bayes, after a caution to Reeves, (Clank was away,) 
 commenced their inquiries. Madge's lodgings were easily and soon found, 
 but neither she nor Haynes was within. In fact, they were both abroad, 
 making preparations for their stratagem. Bayes and his comrade returned 
 to the prison, wearied with their search. It was now nearly ten o'clock ; 
 and they were in the very act of advising Reeves to vigilance, when the latter 
 remarked, that it might be as well if one would step down to the alehouse 
 hard-by, and request the presence of his brother turnkey, who was there 
 drinking. Johnson went. On entering the alehouse before described, what 
 was his surprise to hear a voice, not easily mistaken, exclaim, " Coom, cut 
 along ! none o' your heel-taps, Mister Dave ; it won't go down here, I can 
 tell 'ee. Lord, man, I never zeed sich a poor un at yale. Landlord, another 
 jug. Coom, drink, lad, will ee ?" " Here's loock to us," said Clank, " I'll 
 gie you a song, Roger, lad ; here goes : — 
 
 THE DUBSMAN'S CHAUNT. 
 
 Come, booze, jolly pals : ne'er shirk the brown ale; 
 
 He's a fool who would doze o'er his gatter; 
 Tho' a dubsman (1)1 be, yet I'll pitch you a tale 
 Shall beat th'autem-cackler's(2) queer patter. 
 
 Then list to the dubsman's chaunt, (bear a bob,) 
 Then list to the dubsman's chaunt. 
 
 The ingler (3) so downey, he plays oft" his tricks, 
 
 And the gulpins (4) he bites, till, at last, 
 He cuts it too fat, drops into a fix (5), 
 
 So the stone-jug's his lodging at last. 
 Then list, &.c. 
 
 (1^ Gaoler. "(2) Methodist parson. (3) Swindling horse-dealer. (4) Soft 
 ones. (5) Gets into a scrape. 
 
304 DIfK TURPIN 
 
 The sneaking clyfaker (6) he first nims a wipe, 
 
 Grows chuff (7), and goes in for a yack (8), 
 Come9 it strong for a while, but grabb'd when ripe, 
 
 For a teazing (9) he turns up his back. 
 Then list, &c. 
 
 Your clippers and smashers (10) in Tip-street (11) shine ; 
 
 But, grown bolder, they scorn the low dodge ; 
 The clipper turns caster (12), and goes the nine (43), 
 
 Till he's sent to the sheriff's to lodge. 
 Then list, &c. 
 
 The buffers and duffers, and divers and pads, 
 
 Run their course for a time, while they've tin ; 
 But, queer 'd for the dimmock (14), and lost for the brads, 
 
 Thro' a Norway cravat (15) how they grin. 
 Then list, &c. 
 
 The high tober (16) derricks (17), so spicy and flash, 
 
 His prime doxy in satins to deck ; 
 But his reign is cut short ; for, in spite of his dash, 
 
 He must lose his last race by a neck. 
 Then list, &c. 
 
 Then list to the dubsman, and gather this truth — 
 
 Though your flash coves may look very slap, 
 Beware of the cross in the time of your youth, 
 Or you're book'd for the ruff, lag, or crap (18). 
 
 Then list to the dubsman 's chaunt, (bear a bob,) 
 Then list to the dubsman's chaunt! 
 
 Bill Johnson waited to hear but half a verse of what we have here given • 
 and Dave had not finished the last roll of the chorus, when Johnson, accom- 
 panied by Bayes, came back, and, without being seen by Haynes, o* the un- 
 suspecting turnkey, who was fast becoming intoxicated, "assured themselves of 
 the identity of Roger. 
 
 "Ho, ho!" said Bayes, as he gently withdrew Johnson from the house; 
 " I smell a rat. Never mind taking this fellow now. No, no, I've a higher 
 game in my head. This very night, Bill, it's to be done. Ay, ay, and the 
 turnkey's drinking — hum, ha ! Come along wi' me to the mayor's. I'll show 
 'em where the long odds lies in favour of us Londoners. Come oh." 
 
 In half an hour, Bayes and his comrade were at the prison, having at their 
 disposal eight stout specials. 
 
 " It'll be a try on, depend on't, and this night ; so be sharp. Bill, stay 
 here while I tout the big 'un ;'' and Bayes left to watch the alehouse. 
 
 Dave was now drunk, and slept with his head reclined on the table, when 
 Roger quitted the house. He looked cautiously round. The night was dark, 
 with slight spits of rain, prevented from increasing to a shower by the fresh- 
 ness of the wind, which moaned and whistled among the chimneys and sign- 
 boards of the houses. 
 
 (6N Pickpocket. (7) Saucy. (8) Watch. " (9) Public flogging 
 
 (10) Utterers of bad com. (11) Being in Tip-street, is being flush of money. 
 
 (12) Coiner. (13) Assumes high consequence. (14) Destitute of hush-money 
 to purchase the connivance of the officers. (15) The board of the pillory in which 
 the culprit's neck was fixed. (16) Dashing highwayman. (17) Sets out on an 
 
 adventure. (18) Ruff— a pillory ; lag— transportation ; crap— hanging. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 
 
 ::05 
 
 Sir Albeit and Lady Denistoun's visit to Turpin in York Custle. 
 
 "A prime night," thought Roger, as he took his way towards the bank 
 of the Foss, Bayes cautiously following. It was too dark to see clearly his 
 movements, but the thief-taker tracked him to a low shed, where, to his asto- 
 nishment and satisfaction, he heard through the decayed planking a whispered 
 conference, which he felt assured, for he could not see the speakers, was held 
 with no other than Madge Dutton. 
 
 "Goodbye, missus, and wish us luck—a' knows th' ground well— th' ould 
 drain is up under th* wall at furder side— a fistfull o' minutes ull do th' job— 
 dban't 'ee be froightened— a' feels zure on un gettin' free as if he wor here.'* 
 So saying, Roger crept warily from the shed, carrying with him a stout and 
 thick club of wood to assist his passage of the deep, ntrrow river, and a 
 erowbar. Bayes rubbed his hands in extacy, and hastened to the prison- gate. 
 
 " Have you ever a sewer as opens in the gaol !'' asked he hastily of Reeves. 
 
 "Aye, zure : but what o' that? " 
 
 " Show it me— quick— immediately." Bayes surveyed the strong iror grat- 
 ing. ■ This is the road out and in," said he to the surprised gaoler. 
 
 " Whoy, d'ye knaw where that opens to ? " { 
 
 * Never you mind," replied Bayes, " send me twe ef the specials here." 
 
 They came, and the thief-taker posted them within a door, which opened 
 on the quadrangle, within a few feet of the drain : three others were planted 
 at another door which opened on the yard ; while Bayes and/Johnson stood 
 in a dark angle of the square, with their lanterns closed. 
 
 " They'll be here in no time, and there's not above two en 'em, I reckon, 
 if more nor one," said Bayes in a whisper to his brother effice-'- — " Hark ' " 
 No. 39. 
 
306 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 Chink! chink! chink! sounded from the stonework-in which the grating 
 was embedded, as the man below struck his crcw-bar into the interstices, to 
 secure a leverage for his instrument. Reeves stealthily joined them. 
 
 " Silence," whispered Bayes " they're at it." 
 
 The ponderous grating rose slowly, in obedience to the mighty strength of 
 Haynes. 
 
 " That ain't done by one arm, Mister Bayes," said Johnson, in a voice 
 scarcely above his breath. A partial gleam of moonshine through the "scud- 
 ding rack, showed the drain already pushed away, and the huge form of Roger 
 was dubiously seen dragging himself through the opening. 
 
 "We shall top him nicely, at any rate," whispered Bayes. 
 
 "Hark!" said Reeves, grasping tightly the officer's arm. — Click! click ! 
 click J click ! The noise was from another quarter of the yard. " What the 
 devil is that?" 
 
 The turnkey sneaked along by the wall, towards the spot whence he feared 
 these ominous sounds proceeded : he had, however, cleared but a few steps, 
 when, to his great surprise and alarm, he saw a door open, and a man cau- 
 tiously stepping out. — 
 
 " Hist! — A friend ?" it was Turpin who spoke. 
 
 " All right ! " was the whispered response of Roger. Dick was within three 
 yards of the hole. — 
 
 "Down with 'em '' cried Reeves, at the same moment dashing at Roger. 
 
 " Fly, measter ! fly !" It was too late ; for Dick, seized from behind by Bayes 
 and Johnson, half manacled as he was, was instantly thrown. Roger aimed a 
 blow at one of the officials, who fell with a broken arm, and was turning upon' 
 another, when Reeves dealt him a smasher on the top of the head with a hnge J 
 padlock; he staggered, but strove to drop down the drain-hole — another 
 heavy blow, and, with fractured skull, poor Roger pitched headlong into the 
 aperture. The constables* with torches, approached the spot. . 
 
 " There's that one gone the way he kem," said Reeves, holding his ankle ; 
 " he's broken my leg tho', I'm believin' ; " and he swore with pain. '• Oh 
 Lord ! Oh Lord ! " groaned the special, " a doctor, a doctor, for mercy' ssake, 
 I'ze killed ootreet ! " 
 
 Turpin was carried back to his cell— a blacksmith was sent for, who fur-, 
 nished him with a new suit of irons, far heavier and more irksome than his 
 old ones ; and safely bolted, and chained by a double ring and swivel, we 
 must leave him cursing the unfortunate miscarriage, and wearying himself with 
 fruitless conjectures, as to the probable cause of the failure of the attempt/ 
 
 "Time," said he, "can alone explain it; but I can see no clue, save the 
 double treachery of that foresworn traitress who brings death to all who trust 
 her." 
 
 The body of the hapless Roger was drawn from the sewer, and though life 
 had not fled, he never spoke again ; the fracture was extensive ; consciousness 
 returned not, and before the following night Roger Haynes lay a corpse in 
 the gaol. 
 
 Madge's anxiety was soon unpleasantly terminated. Footsteps stealthily 
 approached her place of confinement, she ventured forth a few paces, in the 
 nervousness of impatience, and was received in the unwelcome embrace of 
 Master Dick Bayes who, 'mid the jests of his companions, introduced her a 
 second time to the interior of York Castle. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 3Q7 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 2nd. Gent.— I do not think that he fears death t 
 
 I«t. Ci.'iit. — Sure ho does not, 
 
 He "never was so womanish ; the cause 
 
 He doth a Utile grieve at. . ' 
 
 Shakspere. Henry VIII., a. ii. sc. i. 
 
 Is not punishment revenge? 
 Tho momentary violence of anger 
 Way be excused. Th Indignant heart will throb 
 Against oppression, and the out-stretched ana 
 
 Resent its outraged feelings— , 
 
 And nature will almost commend the deed 
 That reason blames. Hut will cool reflection 
 I'lead, strong -.villi soul-einoving eloquence, 
 I'm- the deliberate murder of Revenge ( 
 Would y«m, J'iers, in jour calmer hour of Reason 
 Condemn un erring brother to be slain; 
 Cut him, at once, from all the joys of life, 
 All hope of reformation! to avenge 
 That deed his punishment can ne'er recall? 
 
 Southey'a Wat Tyler. ' 
 
 Tuuk it is that nothing great can spring from the dead le\el of apathy; 
 that there is grandeur in the storm, sublimit} in the earthquake, a pleasing 
 horror even in narratives of plague, famine, or murder, and that tragic repre- 
 sentations charm by their excitement: but the stern realities of all these tilings 
 bring with their actual presence, or their application to our own selves, far 
 other feelings than those induced by their distant contemplation, or their nar- 
 ration in speech, in prose, or inverse. Thus that brutal, degraded, debauched^ 
 drunken, ignorant thief, that desperate, precocious villain, Jack Sheppard- — his 
 repulsiveness softened down by time — his deformities concealed by distance, 
 shines forth in the pages of an Ainsworth, a humanised, nay, a loveable being,: 
 metamorphosed by the touch of the enchanter's wand, and purified in the refining 
 alembic of the author's imagination, this object of legitimate loathing comes forth 
 imbued with the attractive qualities of his creator's mind ; and as with romance, 
 so it is with history. Prejudice and party feeling are not the only things that 
 time wears out ; fault, nay crimes great and unpardonable, are dwelt upon, 
 talked of, canvassed, and denounced until human nature, ever on the search for 
 novelty, nauseates the thrice-told tale, and welcomes, with joy, the skilful or 
 daring untruth which a master-mind embodies and adorns in the life-like co- 
 lours of fiction. And thus is it with our hero, as well as many others, be they 
 statesmen, warriors or princes. No man, it has been said, with as much phi- 
 losophy as wit, is a hero to his valet de chambre, and a right estimate of the 
 true stature of men's minds — excuse the phrase, is among the desiderata of 
 human knowledge. 
 , The 
 
 " Fears of (ho brave and follies of the wise" 
 
 are proverbial, and as all courage is comparative, so is the depth or the height 
 of human knowledge or wisdom, which 
 
 "l6but to know how Utile's to be known. 
 
 " Mais a nos moutons" as Voltaire has it. 
 
 The first feeling of annoyance over, like the first plunge of a bather, the 
 
308 DICK TUKPIN. 
 
 seeing and beinsj seen, even in so melancholy a situation, became a relief— -a plea- 
 sure to Turpin ; for the conversation of his visitors, though prompted by mere 
 morbid curiosity, relieved him from the pressure of his own thoughts, and he 
 watched anxiously through the hours of solitude for the time which should 
 bring even these idle gazers. The tardy course of justice then left the un- 
 fortunate prisoner in a lengthened suspense, far less endurable than the cer- 
 tainty of the worst that fate can do, to the man of resolved heart. — Resolved 
 heart! the phrase is common, but false and foolish as common ; what, under 
 such circumstances as his then were, is " resolution ?"■■ It is the physical 
 power of controlling inward emotion — the strength of nerve which can prevent 
 outward manifestations of the struggle within : for, in nine cases out of ten, 
 the "hardened" offender, (as ycur newspaper scribes call him), feels even more 
 acutely than the pusillanimous wretch who, with tears, sobs, and exclamations, 
 bemoans his cruel fate, or with frantic horror shrinks from the frown of death. 
 Such weak minds, saeh nerveless bodies, can never feel the depth, the intensity 
 of that agonistic strangle by which the strong mind o'ermasters the bitterness 
 of death, and looking on the fleshless phantom with undaunted eye, outfaces 
 his terrors. 'Tis true that such whining imbecility passes with a multitude 
 of well-meaning persons for a proof of a fit state of mind for the awful change ; 
 but those who look deeper, and consider the structure of human minds, must 
 know that no man is a hero to himself ; and that in such a strait as that of 
 suffering a felon's death, there lurks beneath the coolness and collectedness of 
 the courageous man, the sharpest pang — a pang sharper, from the pressure of 
 concealment, than the complaining lachrymose driveller is capable of. His 
 tears and complaints are but the outward signs that he has struggled with the 
 inward torture common to humanity, and has fallen in the fight. 
 
 The manner of our hero was cool, collected, and worthy of a better occasion 
 than that for which it was assumed ; we say assumed, for such stoicism is not 
 natural — it is the triumph of fixity of purpose, pride, or what you will, over 
 the common feelings of humankind. 
 
 In the lapse of the seven weeks during which the important prisoner 
 awaited the arrival of the Chief Justice, Sir John Chappie, at the assizes, 
 Madge had been tried before the quarter-sessions, for her offence of aiding 
 and abetting the escape of a felon ; but the indictment failing on a techni- 
 cality, she was acquitted, and remained at liberty, though under surveillance, 
 and, as might be expected, denied all access to the prisoner. 
 
 Dick sat one day in his cell, counting the moments, as they rolled onward, 
 to bring the hour for the admission of visitors. — The iron tongue of the Castle 
 bell had told him that, at its next clang, the huge key would grate in the 
 lock, when he was surprised, some half hour before the appointed time, by the 
 opening of the door, and the appearance of a gentlemanly man, whose bearing 
 bespoke the soldier, on whose arm leant a placid, mild, and melancholy 
 female — they were Sir Albert and Lady Denistoun. The stout-hearted man 
 felt this indeed a hard trial. 
 
 " Do not think," said Sir Albert, advancing towards him, "do not think 
 mere idle curiosity has brought us hither. Madeline!" — he turned to Lady 
 Denistoun—" it is to your persuasion that our presence is attributable ; you 
 eame with a proffer 'of service, as far as we can legally and consistently do, 
 yet you speak not." 
 
 The kind, the generous heart of Lady Denistoun was overflowing ; tears 
 suffused her eyes at the remembrance of former friendships — of the old thatched 
 cottage of the Bevis's, her refuge from a brother's unkindness. She thought 
 
DICK TURPIN. 300 
 
 of the generous, the open-hearted, and the impetuous youth, now the dreaded, 
 the ruthless robber— she thought of the white hairs of the murdered old man, 
 and the fair form of Iter, her first and earliest friend, now mingling with our 
 common clay — she thought, till thought became a pain, and her woman's 
 heart, and woman's sympathy, found vent in a torrent of tears. 
 
 Sir Albert looked on, half displeased, for he knew not how to interpret this 
 burst of feeling. Though a kind, he was a proud man ; and he could not help 
 considering this outburst as derogatory, to say the least of it, to Lady Denis- 
 toun. " Madeline," said he, with as much coolness as he could assume, "this 
 is unbecoming your rank and station. Think you that I would have coma 
 here to witness this? Had I known the method in which your tender of 
 service would have been made, I can assure you that — Mr. Palmer, may I beg 
 you to accept our — " 
 
 " Sir Albert," said our hero ; " your kindness, I fear, is too late — even if I 
 deserved it — but I do not. I desire but your sympathy, and your belief that 
 I am not altogether the desperate villain which rumour and vulgar exaggeration 
 has painted me. — May a felon — do not start, lady — present a token, a token 
 that will remind you of one too good for the best, yet whose misfortune it was 
 to be linked with the worst — 7 and while speaking, he drew from a small red 
 case, a paper enclosed in silk, and proffered it to Lady Denistonn. She 
 opened it with a trembling hand, and there fell from it on the floor, a ring — i 
 the <*ift of Madeline Weston — and a rich tress of fair hair, the brightness of 
 which spoke of sunshine, though the head which it once adorned now slept in 
 the damp dark grave. 
 
 Dick turned to Sir Albert. " To you, Sir Albert, my gift must be different, 
 The pistols, which — but it matters not — the pistols of Dick Turpin may possess 
 some interest in time to come ; and, as I give them you before my conviction — 
 for I know well my fate, and dread not to confront it — the sheriff will, doubt- 
 less, grant the trifling favour of handing them over to you. I had forgotten 
 that there breathed a living being who cared for the fate of Dick Turpin, until 
 you appeared : but now may I ask that the last requests of my will, or rather 
 my last wishes, may be complied with?" 
 
 Sir Albert promised to see them carried into effect to the utmost of his 
 power, and, after some further conversation, he departed ; Dick firmly refusing 
 all assistance for his trial, and declaring his fatalism had deprived him of even 
 the wish to live. 
 
 The day of trial drew on, and the prisoner was placed at the bar to plead to 
 no less than five indictments: the first two being for the capital felony of 
 horse-stealing. A curious fact came out in the evidence on the trial, namely, 
 that Turpin had lived for two years at Brough, Welton, and other places in 
 Lincolnshire, where his character stood high as a liberal and gentlemanly dea- 
 ler : — one of the witnesses for the prosecution declaring, that he " paid for 
 everything freely, and he looked upon him, (though a stranger in those parts), 
 as a gentleman." The first indictment set forth the robbery of the mare and 
 foal of Thomas Creasy, of Bulling-brook ; and its sale,, a day or two before 
 Turpin absconded from Lincolnshire, to a Captain Graham, of Ashby, was 
 clearly proved ; while the foal had been purchased by an inn-keeper at Welton, 
 The testimony was conclusive, and the identification complete. Several per- 
 sons swore positively to Richard Palmer and Dick Turpin being one and the 
 same person : and a witness from Beverley showed that the shooting of Mr. 
 Hall's game cock had been the proximate cause of his apprehension and su'ose- 
 
310 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 quont detection and identification — hence the popular tradition of the game- 
 cock for which Turpiu suffered. 
 
 A second indictment, also for horse-stealing, was proceeded with; the jury 
 again found him guilty; when the learned judge, considering that it would 
 waste the time of the court to proceed with the other charges against the prir 
 soner, seeing that those already proven made his life a forfeit to the law, called 
 on him for any reason he might have to offer why judgment should not now 
 be passed on him. Dick merely replied, with the same cool steadiness he had 
 shown throughout the protracted trials, — 
 
 " My lord, I had expected that my trial would have taken place in Essex — 
 I was so advised by my friends ; — which accounts for the absence of my wit- 
 nesses this day. 1 am in your hands and those of the jury/' 
 
 Sir John Chappie replied : — "You have assuredly had abundance of time 
 to prepare your defence. Whoever advised you that you would be removed 
 hence to take your trial was very wrong and much to blame. You have been 
 convicted on the clearest and most unexceptionable testimony, and as you 
 have no other reason to offer, the court will at once proceed to pass the awful 
 sentence of the law." 
 
 Breathless silence pervaded the vast auditory, as the grave expounder of 
 a bloody and brutal law, invested himself in the black cap, as the symbol 
 of the black deed which barbarous custom, the idol of the vulgar and unthink- 
 ing many, had sanctified in the eyes of a people pretending to civilization. 
 Perhaps there was not one, ev^n in that great assemblage, such force have 
 habit and education, who — penetrating the mummery and formalities of wigs, 
 gowns, and law jargon, could see beneath them, a poor, weak knot of frail 
 imperfect men, committing in the face of heaven a murder on their weak 
 and erring fellow, because forsooth, he did "feloniously, and with force of 
 arms," (or some other such foolery.) " deprive another man of a horse!" 
 
 "But property must be protected, sir!'' exclaims some prosaic old wigsby, 
 " and if you do not inflict severe punishments, society cannot be kept together.'' 
 It is a problem now solved, thanks to the Romillys, the Beccarias, the Mon- 
 tagus, the Whitbreads, and other great and good men, that blood defiles, 
 debases, corrupts, and demoralises society, instead of cleansing it; that 
 revenge is not and cannot be the aim of enlightened legislation, even were 
 there not the paramount consideration, that there is but one erime, that of 
 murder, — "whoso sheddeth man's blood by man shall his blood be shed" — 
 which calls on a citizen, either as legislator, judge, or juror, to imbrue his 
 hands (for it should not be lost sight of that in either of these capacities he 
 does so,) ;in blood, or to violently take that life whose issue the great Giver has 
 declared to be in HIS hand alone. 
 
 The learned judge went on, his equanimity disturbed only by the slight 
 feeling which custom, prejudice, and human fallibility had not yet entirely 
 extinguished in his heart. The dread words were concluded, and "the 
 Lord," with impious solemnity, beseeched " to have that mercy on him 
 which he must not expect from man !" The prisoner bowed, and left 
 the dock, with the sympathies of the female portion of the assembly, ever 
 the last to allow sophistry to obliterate the better feelings of our kind. 
 
 The learned judge left the town without any notification of his intention 
 towards the condemned, a practice equivalent to a death warrant, and the 
 awful preparations fjr the closing scene were hastened forward. The few days 
 
DICK TURPIN. - 311 
 
 which now intervened, ere time, as far as our hero was concerned, should be 
 swallowed up in eternity, were not passed in a manner well calculated as a pre- 
 paration for the solemn scene. 
 
 It is curious to dwell on the social usages of our ancestors, as displayed in 
 their own homely, and matter of fact narratives. 
 
 The frequent recurrence of the punishment of death had bo familiarized 
 not only the populace, but the upper cla>ses of society, that public executions 
 appeared to have become a sort of public amusement ; and privileged persons 
 seem to have regarded notorious criminals as legitimate objects of curiosity, 
 nay, of patronage. Thus Claude Duval, during his confinement in Newgate, 
 was not only visited, admired, and caressed, for his courage in defiance of the 
 laws, but received presents to a considerable amount, in money, &c , from the 
 nobility and gentry who visited his Newgate levees, which he squandered in 
 reckless profusion among the turnkeys, hi* fellow prisoners, and the prostitutes 
 who frequented the gaol. His portrait was engraved on fan-inounts, and In 
 like manner, Bew, Whitney, Hinton, Captain Evans, Dick Low, Will Chance, 
 and others, appear to have been elevated into a quasi-heroism by the good 
 taste of our nobles and gentry of the reign of William, Anne, and of the first 
 George. Such was the high tone of morality, the aristocratic taste of the pe- 
 riod ; a proof that sanguinary laws degrade the people, and that capital pun- 
 ishments invariably defeat the grand object of all penal legislation — the pro- 
 tection of society — by calling forth a sympathy so strong, that at length the 
 abhorrence of the culprit's crime is lost, utterly merged, in pity for the sufferer, 
 and detestation at the barbarity of the punishment. 
 
 We have said that multitudes of the wealthy and the noble visited our hero 
 in his last confinement, and among them not the least welcome were Sir Albert 
 and his lady. To the hands of the baronet Dick entrusted the written paper in 
 which his last requests were contained, and, nee tcmere nee timide, awaited 
 the day which should bring the " great change." 
 
 The dag came, but the relation of its events, and of the behaviour of the 
 principal actor, throughout the stirring hours of the last closing scene of " life's 
 fitful fever" shall be reserved for the concluding chapter of the eventful 
 chronicle of Richard Tcrpin. 
 
312 DICK TURPIN 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Bleared sights 
 Are spectacled to see him : your prating nurse 
 Into a rapiuro lets her baby cry, 
 While she eyes him : the kiuiien-mnlhin pins, 
 Her smartest luekram round hei reechy neck 
 Clniirhriug the wall to eye him : stalls, bulks, nlndows, 
 Are smothered up, le.id» tilled, and ridges horsed 
 With variable complexions: all contending 
 In earnestness to see him : and proud dames 
 Commit the war of damask in 
 Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to the wanton spoil 
 Of Phuabus' burning kisses, but to gaze. 
 
 Cowards die many times before their deaths,. 
 
 Tho valiant never taste of death but once. — 
 
 Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 
 
 It seems to me most st«ange that man should fear ; 
 
 Seeing thut death, a necessary evil, 
 
 Will come, when It will come. 
 
 Sliakspero. 
 j 
 
 The sun shone brightly on the gay crowds which poured from York Gates 
 toward the then marshy plain of Knavesmire, now arched and drained into 
 the smooth green of the Race-course. It was clear that something unusual 
 had called forth the dwellers in that ancient city. Nor was the bustle and 
 stir confined to the citizens alone ; in every direction the roads were thronged 
 with groups of country folk, all converging to one point. In one place the 
 brawny bumpkin " tooled" along, urging Ball or Dobbin into an unwonted 
 trot, stimulated by the anxiety of his living cargo of men and women to pro- 
 cure a good sight of whatever was to be seen: while in another the spruce 
 light cart of a traveller rattled past the heavier and slower vehicles. Msunted 
 men and pedestrians, all were flocking to Knavesmire, for it was the day of 
 the execution of Turpin. 
 
 Mighty too was the bustle, and loud the hum of curiosity, without the walls 
 of the Castle, and near the gate through which the condemned was expected 
 to issue. Though it was yet but nine in the forenoon, and twelve was 
 the appointed hour, the eagerness and impatience of the populace had already 
 crowded every " coigne of vantage,"' whence even a bird's eye view of the 
 cavalcade could be obtained ; and loud was the shout and great the commotion 
 of the many-headed monster as, at ten o'clock, the sheriff, with several other 
 mounted gentlemen, attended by a band of javelin men entered the mas- 
 sive and frowning portal. In the large quadrangle, before noticed as the 
 scene of Roger Haynes's death, and of the culprit's frustrated escape, stood 
 a group of gentlemen of the county ; magistrates, land-holders, and persons of 
 quality ; and amongst them, at the request of Turpin, Sir Albert Denistoun. 
 The topic of their conversation may be easily guessed : it was the life, character, 
 and crimes of the unfortunate man that day doomed to suffer. 
 
 There stood the old fashioned, clumsy, cart, in which the condemned was 
 to be conveyed to the fatal spot, some two miles from the city. The execu- 
 tioner was already seated in the vehicle; — he was a svvarth and surly-looking 
 fellow, a prisoner in the gaol, who had volunteered as the sheriffs substitute 
 in this odious office, in consideration of a remission of a portion of his sentence 
 of imprisonment, and a gratuity in hard cash. The prisoner came forth ; his 
 step was firm, and his carriage as erect as the heavy fetters with which he was 
 
DICK TURPIN*. 
 
 318 
 
 The Burial of Turpin. 
 
 encumbered would permit. Before him walled the two turnkeys, beside him, 
 •n either hand, the governor of the Castle and th.« chaplain, followed bv n 
 body of officials and javelin-men, bearing the ancient partizan or halbert. Thus 
 passed they into the quadrangle, amid the gaze of the privileged visitors 
 assembled there. Dick looked around : anxiety, but no dismay, sat upon his 
 determined countenance, though in its deepened lines and the compressed lip 
 you mijht trace all was not well within. He looked, nevertheless, with an 
 air of indolent curiosity on the ceremony of the governor of the gaol handing 
 over his body to the sheriff and taking the customary receipt therefor ; me-an- 
 while the heavy manacles were struck from the prisoner's ankles and wrists, 
 and their place supplied by a strong black silk scarf furnished at the culprit's 
 request for the purpose of pinioning him, in lieu of the ordinary cord. 
 
 The convict glanced around: his eye rested on Sir Albert, and he intimated 
 a request to the sheriff that he might be permitted a minute's converse with a 
 gentleman whom he saw present. The chaplain officiously interposed ; but a 
 short phrase, and a determined look from Turpin silenced the intermeddier, 
 and the sheriff, looking at his watch, remarked that the conversation nui<t be 
 indeed a brief one. 
 
 Sir Albert, acquainted with Turpin's wish, drew near. 
 
 " Sir Albert, on such an occasion as this we must waive all rcremottr. 
 Deeply do I feel the consideration shown by yon in being here at thisunhap' v 
 trial. A paper which, with the permission of ihe sheriff, I will commit t« 
 vour hands, contains the requests of a dvinj mai." 
 No. 40 
 
314 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 The paper was handed to Sir Albert, who, with mingled surprise and 
 emotion perused its contents. 
 
 Turpin with scrutinising gaze watched each movement of the reader's fea- 
 tures ; Sir Albert folded the paper and looked dubiously at him. 
 
 " I see you think the requests in that writing strange, but they arise from 
 no motive or feeling of levity. I have, perhaps I may now say it, elevated 
 mjself above my fellow men to an indeed bad eminence — perchance, had fate 
 willed otherwise, I had been celebrated, instead of infamous, to future time — 
 it is too late to think on that. Have I your word that the desires expressed 
 in that writing shall be complied with ? say, and I feel safe in your promise." 
 
 Sir Albert was too much surprised to argue or expostulate. 
 
 " I respectfully repeat my — " 
 
 " They shall be complied with." 
 
 *' Enough ; farewell !" and Turpin quickly ascended the short ladder, 
 entered the fatal cart, and took up his place between the clergyman and exe- 
 eutioner ; the latter, pipe in mouth, coolly seating himself on the coffin, 
 looked up in the face of the living man destined in a short hour to be borne 
 back a lifeless clod within it. 
 
 The procession was formed, the word " forward" given, and it slowly moyed 
 forth from the frowning portal. A loud and confused murmur, like the distant 
 roar of a heavy surf, rose as the opening gates and solemn clang of the death- 
 bell announced the coming forth of the cavalcade. 
 
 Sir Albert stood with the paper yet clasped in his hand, watching with fixed 
 eye till the last of the train had disappeared from beneath the arch, as if 
 expecting some recognition or signal from the prisoner ; but he turned not his 
 head from the moment that he bade him farewell. Sir Albert was recalled 
 from his momentary absence of mind by finding himself surrounded by geveral 
 gentlemen whom intimacy or acquaintance entitled to be curious. 
 
 " So, Sir Albert," »aid a rubicund, bottle-nosed, fox-hunting baronet, of his 
 neighbourhood ; "he ha' left you executor; excuse the liberty, but may I ask 
 if the gentleman has made you sole legatee to all his estates in reversion, 
 when the sheriff has done with 'em?" added he, with a chuckle at his clumsy 
 attempt to be facetious. 
 
 " Why, Sir Harbottle," said Sir Albert recovering himself ; " I must confess, 
 if you see any subject of jest in the affair, that I am sole executor of as singular 
 a will as dying man ever penned ; but I vs at that moment recalling the 
 little I have known of the strange, eventful rife 01 that unfortunate culprit." 
 So saying, Sir Albert seemed about to move away from the group ; but old Sir 
 Harbottle receiving a monitory nudge on the elbow from one of the inquisitive 
 bvstanders, returned to the charge, with a determination. not to be thus fobbed 
 off. 
 
 " Must beg your pardon, Sir Alby ; but don't think you're a bit more com ■ 
 municative to your old friends than you need be ; what's the will about, eh? 
 no such secret in it, surely, but what your old friends here may be made part- 
 ners in, 1 suppose T eh ? Come, the will, my boy, the will ; or, if you demur 
 at showing it us, we'll take your word for the contents ; which must be out of 
 the common run to throw such a cool, steady, soldier as you off your guard, as 
 we saw you just now." 
 
 "There is no Becret in the will," said Sir Albert slowly ;" yet I shall 
 certainly not allow the solemn requests of a dying n.an, albeit that man is a 
 felon, to become the topic of idle jest or light discourse. Nevertheless," for 
 he saw that the bystanders looked somewhat ashamed at his reproof, " I will 
 
DJCK TURPIN. 315 
 
 oommunicate its effect : Firstly, I am desired to forward certain tokens and 
 things of trifling value to a lady — you smile, but let that pass ; out of other 
 property, long since resigned by the felon, and enjoyed by others, I am re- 
 quested to bestow a sum on a woman who has for some time past been 
 considered as his wife — and lastly, for the document is short, there is a curious 
 clause, and one which, please God, I will perform — it runs thus: ' Acknow- 
 ledging fully the justness of this, my last sentence, and conscious how I have 
 deserved it — though still feeling a wish that the offence for which I forfeit my 
 life had been less ignominious — I desire that none may weep the death I die, 
 since my country has demanded my blood; therefore, as none should mourn, it 
 is my last wish, that the good friend whom I entrust with this will comply 
 with my desire, that no outward mockery of woe may mark my passage to my 
 last rest, but that six young unmarried maidens, dressed in bridal white, may 
 follow me to the grave; and to each of them be given the garments for the 
 occasion, and a gratuity for their kind offices.' ''* 
 
 Sir Albert paused, and looked round at his curious and attentive auditory, 
 and as he regarded their constrained solemnity he could scarcely forbear a 
 smile. 
 
 " And do ye mean to zee all this doon, Sir Albert,'' asked a jolly York- 
 shireman, the cultivator of his patrimonial acres, and whose wealth entitled 
 him to some standing in society. 
 
 " I have passed my word," was Sir Albert's brief reply. 
 
 " Well," observed Sir Harbottle, " it will be a new sort of a sight for the 
 people of York.'' There was a pause, which the old baronet ended by exclaim- 
 ing, — " Now, gentlemen, which of you are for Knavesmire ? though we've time 
 enough yet, for the crowd will keep them from moving very fast." 
 
 " Not I," said Sir Albert : the rest, without a remark on his refusal, mounted 
 their horses, and, avoiding the crowded road, were on the ground long before 
 the head of the cavalcade reached its destination ; where, leaving them, we will 
 return to the principal actor in this law-made tragedy. 
 
 He had passed a few yards along the narrow way, and had cleared Ouse- 
 gate and the city, when, turning to the clergyman, Turpin addressed a few 
 words to him in a low tone, intimating an intention to make a disclosure of 
 certain facts in his misspent life : but his intention was foiled, for scarcely had 
 he began, when an unwonted commotion agitated the mighty sea of heads. 
 He looked round upon the wavering crowd as it reeled to and fro, and soon 
 perceived a knot of men, whose determined purpose in forcing a passage through 
 the dense crowd, occasioned the tumult and outcries of those thrust aside 
 or driven forward by their violence. The throng approached, and amid the 
 knot, Dick saw a female, borne by two stout fellows, whom he had no diffi- 
 culty in recognizing as Madge — a deep frown knit his brow, and he bit his 
 lip. The woman caught his eye, and stretched out her hands towards him — 
 the crowd divided; " Let her bid un good bye," shouted a chorus of voices, 
 among which, that of Dave Clank, the quondam gaoler, was distinguishable. 
 
 • This is a fact : the coffin of Turpin was followed by six young women attired m 
 white. He does not seem, however, to have been the only hero of the gallows-tree, 
 thus singularly attended. At least the old flash song, beginning, — "In the County of 
 Wicklow, I was born," contains the following lines: — 
 
 " With six young maidens to bear up my pall, 
 
 Let them huve green r.bbons mid white favours all," Sue. 
 
 Though it is more than probable, as a similar desire is expressed in other songs 
 besides the oue abovo quoted, (generally known as "The Roving Hlade,") that till 
 the traditions had one common origin, now impossible to be ascertained, wore it even 
 worth the trouble of the search. 
 
3! 15 DICK TCRPIN. 
 
 IT • appeared to be the leader of the partv, by his stout oaken cudgel, and add- 
 ing the place of pioneer. "Let her to un, will 'ee," exclaimed he, dealing 
 his thwacks to right and left with hearty goodwill. Madge was brought close 
 t ) the culprit by the friends of the discharged turnkey, who with sinewy arms 
 cleared for her a passage. 'J utpin looked at her with a cold, fixed, and steady 
 pve : despair was written on her countenance — wild, senseless, agonizing des- 
 pair: his colour changed. 
 
 " Do you wish to speak with her?" said the Sheriff, mildly, riding close to 
 the wheel; "say aye, or my men must beat them off — we cannot suffer these 
 obstructions. — Back, there ! back !" The functionary waved his hand, and 
 the party slightly receded before the pressure of the constables. 
 
 "Oh Richard! Richard!" screamed the wretched woman. 
 
 Jan Reeves, on whom, since Dave Clank's dereliction of duty, the office of 
 ehief turnkey had devolved, now stept up ; touching his hat 1o the Sheriff", 
 he said — " There's some impurdence i' thot, Sir Walter ; yon's t'e wench as tried 
 on t'e rescue, and w'ud ha' dropt in for a lumbering* on'y for lawyer Double's 
 firulin' t'e flor in — " 
 
 "Stand clear, there!" shouted the constables, laving their staves on the 
 heads of the second and third ranks, while thev pushed the foremost on the 
 breast: a judicious method, seeing that by striking the front men, your con- 
 stable may get a counter-hit, while with staff and arm, his reach is greater 
 than those behind. We take this to be a point worthy the consideration of all 
 policemen. — Bur to return. 
 
 " I'm dom'd,'' exclaimed Davie, "if we do stood back, till — " 
 
 Dick had distinctly heard the few words of Jan Reeves, and was more than 
 ever perplexed. — " Oh, Richard ! Richard !" again struck upon his ear, and he 
 made a sign to the Sheriff. 
 
 " It is a great indulgence," said that gentleman, " but it shall be granted ; — 
 Officers ! permit the woman to have speech wi h the prisoner!" And he 
 rode into the press, toward the spot where Madge stood, surrounded and sup- 
 ported by her small knot of adherents. 
 
 A mighty shout arose as the mob observed that a female, heedless of the 
 thousands of gazing eyes, stood resting on the condemned man's shoulder: 
 the most distant needed no interpreter of the scene before them. Woman's 
 affection is ever a moving sight, but doubly so, when we see it in the darkest 
 hour of man's adversity and trial. It matters not the character, the dark 
 crimes, or the abandoned life of the actors in such scenes ; perhaps it is the 
 more striking on that very account. 
 
 The writer of these pages knows not that he ever experienced a more chok- 
 ing sensation than that produced on the occasion of an execution at the Old 
 Bailey, some years since. — The wretched man, young in years but old in crime, 
 suffered for uttering not forging, certain characters on a scrap of watered tis- 
 sue paper, "with intent to defraud the Governor and Company, &c." The 
 horrid preparations were all made, the finish put to the adjusting of the rope, 
 the minister of the gospel (! !) dropped his handkerchief, as the signal for 
 public murder — the bolt was drawn, when, from near the foot of the scaffold, 
 arose a cry so piercing, so unearthly, that it was pain to the very sense of hearing, 
 and a female, who must have fallen heavily but for the dense crowd, was 
 borne forth on the arms of some bvstanders. A neighbouring pnldic-house 
 received the fainting woman, and it will be long before he forgets the piteous 
 aspect, the wild, imploring, helpless look of the despairing wretch. Yet, she 
 
 • 
 
 imprisonment. 
 
DICK TURPIN. II f 
 
 was & common cutcasl — a vile, polluted thing — one of those beings to whom 
 novel-mongers, and drama-concoctors, allow neither hearts nor sympathies. He 
 enquired subsequently the fate of the poor wretch, and found that her feelings 
 had overwhelmed her reason, and that, after three months of wretched heed- 
 lessness and insanity, the outcast paramour of the felon had destroyed herself 
 by drowning, remained unowned for some days, at a parish bone-house, and 
 then found (happy she) a pauper-grave. 
 
 Loud and long was the murmur of that mighty flood of voices, as it pouted 
 forth its full tide of applause. There is a solemnity, a vastness, a choral fulness 
 in the grand diapason of a myriad human voices, which no instrumental imita- 
 tion can ever approach, much more reach ; the hum, the booming roar of a 
 vast crowd, must be heard to be u :derstood, must be observed with listening 
 ear to be appreciated : from the shrill treble to the deepest bass each note is 
 blended in the mighty and onorous swell, and so rose the involuntary ex- 
 pression of the sympathy of that vast assemblage. 
 
 But the two most concerned heeded them not. For the thunder, though 
 "like unto the voice of many waters,'' they had no ear, and pursued their 
 brief colloquy as though none were present but themselves. The explanation 
 was short: the death of Roger had severed all clue to the mysterious failure; 
 Madge hal been rigorously excluded from all communication with Turpin ; 
 the attempted rescue had been the cause of her own imprisonment ; and here 
 she was to share the last hour of trial ; participating in the bitter dregs of 
 the cup of death and separation, and showing by tears, sobs and 'looks, such 
 as never were or could be feigned, the strength of woman's affection — the 
 powerful softness, the invincible tenderness, the strong weakness of woman's 
 heart ! 
 
 Jan Reeves stood a close listener during the r short interview, and filled up 
 each hiatus of Madge's explanations and extenuations, by taking to himself, in 
 a bv-conversation with the sheriff, the whole credit of detecting the plotted 
 escape. Though short, the conversation satisfied Turpin that he had egre- 
 giously misjudged her, and ho asked her forgiveness for his injurious suspicions. 
 The wretched woman threw herself on his breast and sobbed aloud. 
 
 Several minutes had now elapsed; the more distant of the crowd were 
 growing impatient of the, to them, long delay, and the roar of impatience to 
 witness the bloody sacrifice, rose long and loud, drowning the former shouts of 
 applause — so fickle are your mighty masses, so incapable is a mob of delibe- 
 rative consistency. The tide was turned, and the growl of the monster for 
 his postponed meal succeeded ; the sheriff, too, seemed of opinion that the 
 interview had lasted long enough : at a signal from his hand, Madge was torn 
 from her hold, and borne from the cart, which again moved onward amid the 
 living tide. 
 
 Knavesmire is reached; and in that vast expanse of upturned faces you 
 shall see b it one expression — that of curious eagerness to feast its owner'i 
 eyes on the brutal scene. The cavalcade struggles slowly through the dense 
 mass; the clergyman reads aloud the solemn ritual appointed by the Church 
 for the burial of the dead — and now he stands beneath the triple tree, with 
 the victim at his side — Dick mounts the steps of the ladder whose rounds he 
 shall no more descend — his right leg trembles in the momentary re-action of 
 overwrought firmness, but, with a sudden stamp of pride, the fated man stea- 
 dies the shuddering nerves, whose shrinking might shame him in the last act, 
 and tell to thousands of gaping admirers that this stoicism was but assumed. 
 Turpin, we jay, stamp* i hi* foot, and stood on th« frail plank whote ■upport 
 
3! 8 DICK TURPIN. 
 
 alone divided him from death. The clergyman again proffered his services, 
 but he declined them ; and beckoning towards him the sheriff and the topsman, 
 thus spoke : — 
 
 " I shall not address the multitude here, after the custom of many offenders. 
 My regret is that I suffer for so base a crime ; I had rather it had been for 
 some offence more fitted to my character, and my career. To you, Mr. She- 
 riff, as concealment can no longer serve me, I wish, in the presence of this 
 reverend gentleman, here to confess the deed which lies heaviest on my mind. 
 It would take long, even if there were time, to relate my many robberies. — 
 In noue did I ever shed blood, though life I have taken in self-defence. It 
 avails me not now to conceal it, but the murder, if so you please to call it, 
 of the ranger's man, on Epping Forest, was the act of this hand. I am justly 
 sentenced, and fear not to meet my fate. There are some requests, which a 
 kind friend of mine has consented to see executed ; — and now, having cleared 
 my breast of all that I deem necessary, may God' pardon my many sins, and 
 receive my soul."* 
 
 The last word had scarcely left his lips, and the topsman was about to mount, 
 in order to complete the final arrangements of the toilet of death, and draw the 
 cap over the eyes of the highwayman, when his intention was suddenly fore- 
 stalled : — a short ejaculatory prayer breathed from the lips of the dying man 
 — the crowd stood tiptoe with expectancy ; — but before the cart had time 
 to move away, he flung himself from his foot-hold with fearless energy.— 
 The mob shouted, — a jerk — a spasm — a choking sob — a convulsive shudder, 
 and the soul of the daring highwayman flew to its awful doom ! — Yes ! there, 
 sluggishly and slowly swaying to and fro in the passing wind, hung the ina- 
 nimate corse, so late instinct with life, passion, and vigour; and the gratified 
 multitude turned slowly from the spot, jesting, gossipping, and laughing. You 
 might have guessed that plain the scene of some glorious rejoicing, some 
 wake, festival, or fair; in one place a gaping circle of bumpkins listened to 
 the exaggerations and lies of a leather-lunged vendor of the cheap printed 
 sheets, then the staple literature of our remote districts, who retailed a whole 
 cento of the exploits of robbers, from Ishmael downwards, all of which he 
 affiliated on the dangling corse that once was Turpin ; finishing each extra- 
 ordinary narrative by holding up his blue-looking broad sheet, "containing,'' 
 as he phrased it, "a full, true, and purtickler haccount of the birth, parintage, 
 and hedication, life, cha-rak-ter, and be-ha-vi-er, last dying speech and con- 
 fession, of that most notoriousest robber, Dick Turpin ; together with a copy 
 of werses writ by him on the wery night afore his hexecution ; likewise a 
 letter to his beloved wife, and other facs and 'ticklers too numerous to mention, 
 all for the small charge of one ha' penny !'' Near him two amphibious-looking 
 animals, a cross between the gipsey and the sailor, in tattered clothes, with 
 shoeless feet, roared from their hoarse throats some ear-splitting-chaunt about 
 the miseries of " them as sails the salt-sea hocean ;" while vendors of brandy- 
 balls, nuts, appleg, hot pudding, &c, plied their several vocations in the 
 motley group. 
 
 As we have before said, you might have deemed that plain the scene of 
 
 • This is substantially the narrative and confession, given in the early life of Tur- 
 pin, 8vo. York, 1739, in the British Museum. He threw himself from the ladder, as 
 above described. The stealing of his body, its recovery, and second burial by the mob, 
 are aho authenticated by the above book, published at the very place of hia execution, 
 within a twelvoiuouth of that eveut. 
 
DICK TURPIN. 319 
 
 some festival or fair, had not that one black and ominous object cast its gloom 
 upon the scene: yes there, amid this ribald riot, and drunken confusion — for 
 itinerant vendors of spirits, with bottle in hand, were rife among the mob — 
 the frowning gallows with its unconscious burden presided over the orgies : a 
 potent example — an instructive lesson— a solemn warning — a sagacious moni- 
 tor—a mighty monument of legislative wisdom ! Yet for a century from the 
 time we are writing of, parliamentary sages were to be found, who practically 
 regarded the gibbet and the rope as the protectors of property, the efficient 
 vindicators of the law, and who seem to have classed the hangman among the 
 " best possible public instructors !" 
 
 The time appointed expired; the body was cut down, and delivered to 
 
 Madge, who conveyed it back to the city, followed still by a large crowd ; 
 
 though it bore but a small proportion to that which had escorted the living 
 
 man to his violent death. That evening and the morn of the following day 
 
 the corpse lay at the ' Blue Boar,' in Castlegate, and at noon, on the 
 
 Sabbath, again surrounded by a multitude of spectators, and followed by six 
 
 maidens, the remains of Turpin were conveyed to their last home, in the 
 
 churchyard of St. George's, without Fishergate postern ; but, as if even the 
 
 grave was not destined to receive him peacefully, another and more tumultuous 
 
 funeral awaited them. 
 
 It was a dark and cloudy evening; the wind sighed heavily and mournfully 
 among the trees of the churchyard, and slight spits of rain foretold a shower. 
 The last of the indifferent spectators of that strange funeral procession had 
 departed, yet there remained one — a woman, closely mu filed in a hood ami 
 «loak, near the sheltering wall which bounded the field of death, where, beneath 
 the grassy hillocks, 
 
 Each In hi* narrow coll for ever laid, 
 
 Tiie ruilo forefathers of the hamlet sleep : — 
 
 Shi was there she knew not why. Some strange, ^indefinable presentiment 
 hung over her ; one of those vague imaginings which assail us, when death, 
 mvsterious, inexplicable death, is the subject of our thoughts, and when our 
 waking reason, prostrated by the stunning blow of some mighty and over- 
 whelming grief, gives way and surrenders itself to the wildest fancies. There 
 stood she, the one living being amid that concourse of dead ; rooted there 
 amid pleasing horrors, revelling in a "luxury of woe," and framing in her dis- 
 ordered brain a thousand fantasies, extravagant, unnatural, absurd, (so she felt 
 them to be) yet still rising as vivid and irresistible as they were unbidden. 
 Now her love for Turpin — anon some tenderness which had passed between 
 them, some kindness till now forgotten — she spoke with the dead, who replied ; 
 she r started at the well-known voice and glanced fearfully around. The dull yew- 
 trees waved heavily— her eye ranged over the tiny verdant mounds, till they 
 rested on one brown-heap hard by, and then she clasped her hands, and wept 
 bitterly. " Shall I return home?" thought she ; " no ! I will watch here ; yet 
 what can it avail him f I'll watch, though ; for I feel sure — something tells 
 me — I know not what !'' and she struck her throbbing forehead with her hand. 
 Some dark object moving beneath the dark shade of the trees now attracted 
 her attention : fear seized her soul ; for not only the guilty— -and guilty indeed 
 she was— feel superstitious terrors. Her breath seemed suspended, and her 
 heart almost ceased to beat, as she saw, in the doubtful obscurity, the form 
 approach the spot where she was standing. Common sense, that most uncom- 
 mon gift in emergencies, might have relieved her from her apprehensions^ had 
 
310 DICK TURP1N. 
 
 •he been in a frame of mind to have deliberately scanned the actions of tin- 
 object of her dread. He approached— for man it was— until within a few 
 yards of the grave, and, disappearing' suddenly behind a tombstone, a circum- 
 stance by no means calculated to reassure her, she heard a fall, as of something 
 thrown heavily on the ground. Her suspense, however, was not of long du- 
 ration ; for, in another minute, two other men entered from another quarter 
 of the churchyard. 
 
 " Hist ! hoy I Ned, is that you ?" asked the fellow from behind the stone. A 
 short low whistle was the reply, and the dreaded ghost came forth, armed with 
 a mattock, a shovel, and a sack ; it was the grave-digser of the burial-ground ! 
 A lantern was produced by one of the newcomers from beneath his cloak, and 
 placed close to the foot of a grave, and the sack so placed around it as to con- 
 ceal its light, all but one narrow stream which shone along the recent grave 
 of the highwayman. Madge could, however, see enough of two of them to 
 guess by their habiliments that they were not exactly of the lower rank. 
 
 " Now Ned," asked one in a loud whisper, " is all ready ?" 
 
 " Aye, aye, zur !'* was the muttered reply ; and all was again silent, but the 
 dull sound of the new laid earth, as two of the party tossed it aside from the 
 grave, while the third kept a sharp look out. — The truth now flashed upon 
 her ; they were about to steal his body : yet, how should she act— she would 
 run and give an alarm — >he watched another minute, and although the grave, 
 as she supposed, could not be a quarter dug out, some w"-i + *-' hject-— yes it 
 must be he -was being dragged slowly from the earth. — Maclge rushed for- 
 ward, heedless of the consequences. " For God's sake !'! was all she uttered, 
 before the man on watch rushed behind her, and seized her in his arms : a 
 faint scream was stifled by the tight pressure of her ample hood, which the 
 man pressed on her mouth with one hand, while he grasped her waist tightly 
 with the other. 
 
 " Why what the devil have we got here ?" said he, as his comrades joined 
 him ; " the thief's doxy, by goles ! what, in the name of old scratch, shall we 
 do with her?" 
 
 Madge struggled, and again sent forth a cry. 
 
 " Oh, oh, 'tis all of no use," said the man who held her ; " d d unlucky, 
 
 though — aint it ?" 
 
 " Gag her, tie her, and shove her into the grave," suggested his companion ; 
 ■ I woiddn't lose our chance, now we've gone so far, for the best twenty gui- 
 neas ever coined.'' 
 
 " No, no,'' replied the man who held her, " that would be rather too strong, 
 poor devil : — Just bind a handkerchief over her mouth, tie her hands, and 
 blindfold her eyes, and I'll bet a trifle we manage her." 
 
 It was done while being talked of, for Madge was too feeble to offer much 
 resistance. 
 
 " Now then !" and away they led the blindfolded Madge, she knew not 
 whither. They did not go above a hundred yards ; though she felt assured, 
 by being lifted over a stile, that they had left the church-yard. She 
 found herself led into a barn, for that it was so she could tell by the smell 
 of hay, and here, seating her upon a tru<s, one of the party left, while 
 the other remained to keep guard : an hour elapsed, and the man re- 
 turned, the word "all right," was whispered, and, after threatening her with 
 vengeance if she dared to stir till morning, or raise the least alarm, they de- 
 parted ; returning several times at an interval of a minute or two to repeat 
 thsir menaces. Madge, however, was not so easily daunted ; half an hour 
 
DICK TURPIN. 321 
 
 more passed away : they were certainly gone ; and after several attempts, 
 having succeeded in shifting the bandage from her eyes, she hastened towards 
 her lodging with the speed of fear. The events of the last few days had 
 made Madge a public character. Passing an alehouse, for the day's excitement 
 had given an unwonted bustle to all places of public resort, she entered, her 
 hands still fast-bound, to relieve herself from her painful thraldom. There were 
 still remaining many rustic tipplers therein, and great was the surprise and 
 strong the indignation of the assembly on hearing the tale of the violation of 
 the grave of Turpin ; for if there is one thing more than another which 
 excites the abhorrence of the lower classes, it is the subjecting of the relics of 
 mortality to the knife of the dissector. True it is that we have somewhat worn 
 out this absurd prejudice, and that the example of some of our wisest and most 
 humane men — who have left, during life, their remains for the furtherance of 
 the cause of science — has abated this feeling, yet it still acts stronglv upon 
 the ignorant; and if it prevail so generally among them now, ten times more 
 powerfully did it sway the people in the time of Turpin. 
 
 u A'm dong'd if a' woant make one to stop they doct'rin' chaps fra' cootting 
 'un up, arter he ha' had a Christun berrin," exclaimed one. 
 
 The declaration was loudly applauded by the rest; and each of the half- 
 fuddled rustics vied with his fellow in being loudest in his declarations of 
 vengeance or ^e resurrectionists. 
 
 " A'd loike co ha' the coottin' oop o' sum o' thae : Lor' bless 'ee, thev care 
 no more aboot carvin' an' slashin' o' Christians, nor Pollaxe, t' butcher, do 
 
 aboot dead cuves. A'd loike a grip o' sum o' thae 'spital coves ; wouldn't I " 
 
 and the speaker wound up his wish with a pantomimic motion of his hands, 
 similar to the process of killing rabbits. 
 
 " Doan't stand a-talkin' here, then — let's be off at once," suggested another ; 
 and a forward movement was made along the passage. 
 
 Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn, 
 
 What dangers canst thou make us scorn : 
 
 Wi' tippenny we fear na eril, 
 
 Wi' usquebaugh we'll face the devil ; 
 
 and this feeling pervaded the indignant Yorkshiremen. 
 
 " Ay, ay,*' suggested one of the soberest of the fellows ; " but how the 
 dickins are ye to foind oot whar they chaps ha' stowed 'un ?" 
 
 This was a poser, and they all looked at Madge as if expecting a solution 
 of the query. She was too overjoyed at this unexpected reinforcement of 
 rescuers to refuse the proffered service, and said : — 
 
 "Can one of you fetch Dave Clank hither: he knows the grave-digger^and 
 so do I ; but — " She hesitated a moment. 
 
 " What, ould Neddy Slug, dost mean ?" asked two or three in a breath. 
 
 " The same," answered Madge : •« he was one who helped to take him from 
 the ground." 
 
 We will not soil our page with the exulting execrations which followed 
 this important piece of information. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! he wor in it, wor he ? we'll foind 'un roightsoon ; he lives doon 
 here hard by. We'll root 'un oot, never fear: by gum, that be a good 'un — 
 ho! ho! measter Neddy, we'll be doon on 'ee in no toime : coom on, lads! 
 Do ye goa and fetch Clank, Robin lad : we'll ha' 'un, and bury 'un, if he 
 be to be found i' York." 
 
 A short delay took place, during which each sought his oaken cudgel ; and 
 No. 41. 
 
322 DICK TtJUl'lN. 
 
 such as had them not, were supplied with other weapons of offence and defence. 
 Dave Clank was soon at the spot, for he had not. gone to rest, having re- 
 mained up anxiously searching for Madge, whose departure from her lodging, 
 shortly after her return from the funeral, had somewhat alarmed him. In a 
 few minutes they were thundering at the door of the humble dwelling of the 
 grave-digger. That worthy had not returned to his loving wife, who, alarmed 
 at the noise outside, ventured to enquire the cause of the disturbance from 
 the casement. 
 
 " We want t'e ould mon — and we'll ha' him oot,'' cried the disturbers. 
 In vain did mistress Slug remonstrate, and assure the party that he was 
 not at home — nothing but a search would satisfy them; and terrified bv their 
 menaces, she at length opened the door — and a glorious search Ihey had. 
 Not a cun-board, -bed, or chest, escaped them; and they were holding a 
 council 'as to what next should be done, when a shout was raised outside. 
 
 t; Here he be ! here he be ! Oh you 'tarnal ould bla'guard !" and poor 
 Slug, pale with affright, was dragged in to his own hearthstone. 
 
 Threats, followed by an ugly thump or two, and the infuriated aspects of 
 his assailants, soon extorted Irom the terrified Slug the names of his accom- 
 plices ; — and away hied the party, gathering strength and numbers as they 
 passed along, to the house of the delinquent doctor. 
 
 Mr. had just turned in for a snooze, when he was unpleasantly turned 
 
 out by a dreadful assault upon the door of his mansion. With night-cap on 
 hea'd he enquired the cause of the tumult, and was very shortly satisfied as to 
 its cause. 
 
 Loud, long, and heavy, rattled cudgels and stones upon his door, which 
 was, fortunately for his personal safely, one of the stoutest. 
 
 " Run, Nicholas !" cried the alarmed professor of healing ; "out at the 
 back-door — quick ! Haste to the city watch ; alarm the neighbourhood — 
 here's a riot ; we shall all be murdered.'' 
 
 Nicholas made his exit through the back premises : the rapidly increasing 
 mob became impatient. 
 
 " Dom him, whoy doan't 'ee brake the door in ?" asked a fellow, advancing 
 with a huge stone between his two hands : " stand clear there !" and he 
 delivered the ponderous missile full against the centre of the lock — the stout 
 hasp flew, and the passage was instantly filled with the rioters. The slighter 
 doors within soon yielded — the surgery was entered, and there lay the stark 
 corse, the object of their search. Mr. Sawbone prudently retreated to the 
 roof on the forcible entry, for he well knew that the consequences of his 
 body-snatching — or rather, that of his subordinates — might be anything but 
 pleasant. 
 
 To raise the body from the tressels, with the board upon which it lay, was 
 but the work of a moment, and it was steadily placed on the shoulders of 
 four stout men. 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah!" resounded from the rioters, as they made their wav 
 along the passage with their burden. 
 
 At this very juncture a magistrate, accompanied by a number of the 
 ancient watch and ward, reached the spot, and were shortly followed by 
 a corporal's guard from the castle. The civil force were soon driven back, 
 and the worshipful gentleman, who knew not the cause of the disturbance, 
 warned the populace in the king's name to desist. That it was a riot be 
 saw*— and that the house of the respectable Esculapius had been broken open 
 
DICK TURPI N. 32 3 
 
 was also evident ; and he commanded the four soldiers — for the more distant Oc 
 the mob were still wreaking their vengeance upon the doctor's windows — to 
 suppress the tumult and apprehend the ringleaders. Packed by the soldiery, 
 the watch made a desperate rush : — cracked crowns were at a discount ; 
 stones flew in all directions ; cudgels flourished ; and the scale of the contest 
 hung long doubtful — numbers at length prevailed. The constables were 
 beaten off; and the soldiers having gained the passage of the house, which 
 the populace, who had now achieved their object, had quitted, the rioters went 
 on their way shouting and rejoicing. 
 
 It was a strange scene. There, in the midst of that uproarious assemblage, 
 surrounded by flaring torches, and borne along with bursts of triumph and 
 discordant yells of defiance, moved that white and ghastly object — its bearers 
 staggering to and fro, as the pressure of the multitude impelled them. The 
 churchyard is again filled with crowds ; imprecations, shouts, lamentation, 
 strike harshly on the dull ear of night ; the ancient solitary owl, whose 
 nightly vigil in the ivy-mantled tower or the sombre yew-tree was thus 
 unwontedly disturbed, stretches its downy wing, and flies scared from its 
 peaceful domain ; the red lights gleam on the moss grown grave-stones ; and 
 in the heart of this confusion and tumult, were the remains of the bold Dick 
 Turpin again consigned to their mother earth. 
 
 Near the quiet little village of Sibbertoft, in Leicestershire, some thirty, 
 years after that torch-light funeral, a stranger stopped at a little cottage, at 
 the door of which sat an elderly female plying her wheel. The day was 
 sultry, and the woman, with mild courtesy, proffered him a glass of whey : he 
 accepted it, and rode forward. He was struck with her melancholy aspect, 
 her neat mourning attire, and her placid manner, and on arriving at his inn, 
 he enquired who that solitary, widow might be. The answer was soon given. 
 She lived alone — few cared to seek her company, and she intruded it on no 
 one — she lived on a small stipend, regularly paid to her by a gentleman who 
 lived in the north of England, and was — the widow of Dick Turpin the 
 Highwayman. 
 
 THE END. 
 
SHORTLY WILL BE PUBLISHED. 
 
 In Weekly Numbers and Monthly Parts, embellished iciih 
 Numerous Engravings, 
 
 CLAUDE DUVAL: 
 
 A HISTORICAL NOVEL. 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF DICK TURPIN. 
 
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