Our Admirable Betty Part 71

At sight of him Jerry sprang up, nearly upsetting the table, and stood to stare in gaping astonishment.

"'Tis Nick!" he cried at last, "Galloping Nick, as I'm a h.e.l.l-fire, roaring dog! 'Tis Nick o' the High Toby as hath diddled the nubbing-cheat arter all, ecod! Ha, Nick--Nicky lad, tip us your famble and burn all, says I!"

Joseph suffered his hand to be shaken and nodded.

"Drunk as usual, Jerry?"

"Ecod and so I am! Drunk enough t' shoot straight--drunk as I was that night by the gravel-pits on Blackheath. You'll mind that night, Nick and how you----"

"Bah, you're talking lushy, Jerry! Here's Captain Swift and the Chicken so--let's to business."

"Aye, to business, my cullies!" cried Jerry saluting them in turn. "To business--'tis the spiriting of a genty mort, eh Nick?"

"A fine lady, aye!" nodded Joseph. "There's two hundred guineas in't, which is fifty for me and the rest atween you, share and share."

"Which is fair enough, rabbit me!" said the Captain.

"Now hark'ee all," continued Joseph beckoning them near and lowering his voice. "You, Jerry and the Captain will come mounted and meet us at the cross-roads beyond----"

"Cross-roads?" hiccoughed Jerry, "not me, Nick, no, no--there's cross-roads everywhere hereabouts I tell'ee, and I don't know the country hereabouts--no meetings at cross-roads, Nicky, burn my eyes no----" Here Joseph cursed him and fell to biting his nails.

"Why not meet here?" suggested Benno.

"No, nor here!" snarled Jerry, "I don't like this place, 'tis a dog-hole and wi' a ladder look'ee a ladder leading devil knoweth where look'ee--a ladder as is meant to climb and as I'm a-going to c-climb----" But as he rose unsteadily Joseph's heavy hand dragged him down again.

"There's the mill then," said he, "the ruined mill beyond Westerham, we'll meet there. We all know it----"

"I don't," growled Jerry, "and don't want----"

"The Captain does and you'll ride with him. At the ruined mill then to-morrow night a half after ten--sharp."

"And what then, Nick--ha?" enquired the Captain, taking a pinch of snuff.

"Why then----" Here Joseph sunk his voice so low as to be inaudible to any but those craning their necks to listen.

"'Tis a simple plan and should be no great matter!" nodded the Captain.

"Aye, rat me, I like your plan, Nick----"

"Aye, but the genty mort," demurred Jerry, "now if she squeal and kick--burn me I've had 'em scratch and tear d-d.a.m.nably ere now----"

"Squeeze her pretty neck a little," suggested the Captain.

"Or choke her with her furbelows," grinned Benno.

"No!" said Joseph, scowling, "there's to be no strangling--no rough work, d'ye take me--it's to be done gentle or----"

"Gentle, ho--gentle, is it!" cried Jerry fiercely. "And how if she gets her claws into me--the last one as I culled for a flash sportsman nigh wrung my ear off--gentle? 'Tain't fair to a man it don't give a man a chance, it d-don't----"

"And that's all now!" said Joseph, rising. "To-morrow night at the ruined mill--I'll give you your last instructions to-morrow at half after ten. Now who's for a gla.s.s over at the inn--landlord's a cull o'

mine." At this everyone rose excepting Jerry who lolled across the table scowling from one candle to another.

"Ain't you a-coming, Jerry?" enquired the gipsy-looking fellow, turning at the door.

"No--not me!" snarled Jerry. "Bones do ache--so they do! 'S-sides I've drunk enough, and I--I'm a-going--to climb--that ladder an' burn all, says I."

"Then climb it and be d.a.m.ned!" said the other and strode away after his companions, slamming the door behind him. Jerry sat awhile muttering incoherently and drew a pistol from his pocket; then he rose and steadying himself with infinite pains against the rickety table, fixed his scowling gaze upon the ladder and lurched towards it. But the liquor had affected his legs and he staggered from wall to wall ere, tripping and stumbling, he finally reached the ladder that shook under the sudden impact. For a long moment he stood, weapon in hand, staring up into the blackness above, then slowly and with much labour began the ascent rung by rung, pausing very often and muttering hoa.r.s.ely to himself; he was already half-way up and the Sergeant, crouched in the shadow, was waiting to receive him with upraised pistol-b.u.t.t, when he missed his hold, his foot slipped and pitching sideways he crashed to the floor and lay still, snoring stertorously. Almost immediately old Betty appeared, crossed to the outstretched body, looked at it, spat at it and spoke:

"'Tis all well, dearies--he be nice and fast what wi' drink and fall.

Come down, my dearies, come down and get ye gone."

The Major followed Sergeant Zebedee down the ladder and crossing to the old woman, removed his hat.

"Mam," said he, "'tis like enough you have saved a great wrong being committed and I am deeply grateful. Words are poor things, mam, but henceforth it shall be my care to see your remaining days be days of comfort. Meantime pray accept this and rest a.s.sured of the future."

Saying which the Major laid a purse upon the table, then turned rather hastily to escape old Betty's eager, tremulous thanks and stepped from the cottage.

"Zebedee," said he as they led their horses out of the coppice, "I recognised two of these rascals. One is the tramping gipsy I broke my cane over and the other----"

"The other is Mr. Dalroyd's man Joe, sir."

"Ha! Art sure o' that, Zeb?"

"I am so, sir!"

"Excellent!" said the Major, swinging to saddle. "Our expedition to-night hath not been in vain, after all."

"Where now, sir?" enquired the Sergeant, gathering up his reins.

"Home!"

"What--ha' we done, your honour?"

"Until to-morrow night--at the ruined mill, Zeb."

"To-morrow night--zounds, sir!" chuckled the Sergeant as they broke into a trot. "'Twill be like old times!"

"'Twill be five to two, Zebedee!" said the Major thoughtfully.

"Warmish, sir--warmis.h.!.+ Though t' be sure the big rascal bore his arm in a sling, still, 'tis pretty odds, I allow."

"There must be no shooting, Zeb."

"Why your honour, pistols are apt t' be a trifle unhandy for close work, d'ye see. Now, a bagnet----"

"And no steel, Zeb. We'll have no killing if it can be avoided!"

"No steel sir?" gasped the Sergeant. "No steel--!"

"Bludgeons will be best if it should come to fighting," continued the Major thoughtfully, "though I hope to effect their capture without any undue violence----" The Sergeant turned to stare: