The Poacher Part 25

"Mrs Chopper, there was a reward offered, and he wants to get the money."

"Oh, I see now--a reward offered; then it must be as Nancy said, there was blood shed," and Mrs Chopper put her ap.r.o.n up to her eyes.

Joey made no answer. After a few minutes' silence he rose, and went to his room where he slept, and put his clothes up in a bundle. Having so done, he sat down on the side of his bed and reflected what was the course he ought to pursue.

Our hero was now sixteen, and much increased in stature; he was no longer a child, although, in heart, almost as innocent. His thoughts wandered--he yearned to see his father and mother, and reflected whether he might not venture back to the village, and meet them by stealth; he thought of the McShanes, and imagined that he might in the same way return to them; then little Emma Phillips rose in his imagination, and his fear that he should never see her again; Captain O'Donahue was at last brought to his recollection, and he longed to be once more with him in Russia; and, lastly, he reviewed the happy and contented life he had lately led with his good friend Mrs Chopper, and how sorry he should be to part with her. After a time he threw himself on his bed and hid his face in the pillow; and, overcome with the excess of his feelings, he at last fell asleep.

In the mean time Nancy had followed the marines up the street, and saw them enter, with their prisoner, into a small public-house, where she was well known; she followed them, spoke a few kind words to the seaman who had been apprehended, and with whom she was acquainted, and then sat down by Furness to attract his attention.

Furness had certainly much improved in his appearance since he had (much against his will) been serving his Majesty. Being a tall man, he had, by drilling, become perfectly erect, and the punishment awarded to drunkenness, as well as the difficulty of procuring liquor, had kept him from his former intemperance, and his health had in consequence improved. He had been more than once brought up to the gangway upon his first embarkation, but latterly had conducted himself properly, and was in expectation of being made a corporal, for which situation his education certainly qualified him. On the whole, he was now a fine-looking marine, although just as unprincipled a scoundrel as ever.

"Well, my pretty la.s.s, didn't I see you looking out of a window just now?"

"To be sure you did, and you might have heard me too," replied Nancy; "and when I saw such a handsome fellow as you, didn't I put on my bonnet in a hurry, and come after you? What s.h.i.+p do you belong to?"

"The _Mars_, at the Nore."

"Well, I should like to go on board of a man-of-war. Will you take me?"

"To be sure I will; come, have a drink of beer."

"Here's to the jollies," said Nancy, putting the pewter pot to her lips.

"When do you go on board again?"

"Not till to-morrow; we've caught our bird, and now we'll amuse ourselves a little. Do you belong to this place?"

"Yes, bred and born here; but we hardly ever see a man-of-war; they stay at the Nore, or go higher up."

Nancy did all she could to make Furness believe she had taken a fancy to him, and knew too well how to succeed. Before an hour had pa.s.sed, Furness had, as he thought, made every arrangement with her, and congratulated himself on his good fortune. In the mean time the beer and brandy went round; even the unfortunate captive was persuaded to drink with them, and drown reflection. At last, Furness said to Nancy, "Who was that lad that was looking out of the window with you? Was it your brother?"

"My brother! bless you, no. You mean that scamp, Peter, who goes in the b.u.mboat with old Mother Chopper."

"Does he?--well, I have either seen him before, or some one like him."

"He's not of our town," replied Nancy; "he came here about two years ago, n.o.body knows where from, and has been with Mrs Chopper ever since."

"Two years ago," muttered Furness, "that's just the time. Come, girl, take some more beer."

Nancy drank a little, and put down the pot.

"Where does Mrs Chopper live?" inquired Furness.

"Where you saw me looking out of the window," replied Nancy.

"And the boy lives with her? I will call upon Mrs Chopper by-and-bye."

"Yes, to be sure he does; but why are you talking so about the boy? Why don't you talk to me, and tell me what a pretty girl I am, for I like to be told that."

Furness and his comrades continued the carouse, and were getting fast into a state of intoxication; the sergeant only was prudent; but Furness could not let pa.s.s this opportunity of indulging without fear of punishment. He became more loving towards Nancy as he became more tipsy; when Nancy, who cajoled him to the utmost of her power, again mentioned our hero; and then it was that Furness, who, when inebriated, could never hold a secret, first told her there was a reward offered for his apprehension, and that if she would remain with him they would spend the money together. To this Nancy immediately consented, and offered to a.s.sist him as much as she could, as she had the entrance into Mrs Chopper's house, and knew where the lad slept. But Nancy was determined to gain more from Furness, and as he was now pretty far gone, she proposed that they should take a walk out, for it was a beautiful evening. Furness gladly consented. Nancy again explained to him how she should manage to get Joey into her power, and appeared quite delighted at the idea of there being a reward, which they were to obtain; and finding that Furness was completely deceived, and that the fresh air had increased his inebriety, she then persuaded him to confide to her all the circ.u.mstances connected with the reward offered for our hero's apprehension. She then learned what had occurred at the inquest--Joey's escape--his being again discovered by Furness--and his second escape from the school, to which he had been put by the McShanes.

"And his father and mother, where are they? When I think of them I must say that I do not much like to a.s.sist in taking up the boy. Poor people, how they will suffer when they hear of it? Really I don't know what to say," continued Nancy, biting the tip of her finger, as if hesitating.

"Don't let them stop you," said Furness; "they will not be likely even to hear of it; they left the village before me, and no one knows where they are gone. I tried to find out myself, but could not. It's very clear that they are gone to America."

"Indeed!" said Nancy, who had put the questions because she wished to give Joey some information relative to his parents; "gone to America, do you say?"

"Yes, I am inclined to think so, for I lost all trace of them."

"Well, then," replied Nancy, "that scruple of mine is got over."

She then pointed out to Furness the propriety of waiting an hour or two, till people were in bed, that there might be no chance of a rescue; and they returned to the public-house. Furness took another gla.s.s of ale, and then fell fast asleep on the bench, with his head over the table.

"So," thought Nancy, as she left the public-house, "the drunken fool makes sure of his 200 pounds; but there is no time to be lost."

Nancy hastened back to Mrs Chopper, whom she found sitting with a candle turning over the leaves of one of the old account books.

"O, Nancy, is that you? I was just sighing over you, here's the things that were ordered for your wedding. Poor girl! I fear you have not often been to church since."

Nancy was silent for a short time. "I'm sick of my life and sick of myself, Mrs Chopper: but what can I do?--a wretch like me! I wish I could run away, as poor Peter must directly, and go to where I never was known; I should be so happy."

"Peter must go, do you say, Nancy? Is that certain?"

"Most certain, Mrs Chopper, and he must be off directly I have been with the marines, and the fellow has told me everything; he is only waiting now for me to go back, to come and take him."

"But tell me, Nancy, has Peter been guilty?"

"I believe from my heart that he has done nothing; but still murder was committed, and Peter will be apprehended, unless you give him the means of running away. Where is he now?"

"Asleep, fast asleep: I didn't like to wake him, poor fellow!"

"Then he must be innocent, Mrs Chopper: they say the guilty never sleep. But what will he do--he has no money?"

"He has saved me a mint of money, and he shall not want it," replied Mrs Chopper. "What shall I do without him? I can't bear to part with him."

"But you must, Mrs Chopper; and, if you love him, you will give him the means, and let him be off directly. I wish I was going too," continued Nancy, bursting into tears.

"Go with him, Nancy, and look after him, and take care of my poor Peter," said Mrs Chopper, whimpering; "go, my child, go, and lead a good life. I should better part with him, if I thought you were with him, and away from this horrid place."

"Will you let me go with him, Mrs Chopper--will you, indeed?" cried Nancy, falling on her knees. "Oh! I will watch him as a mother would her son, as a sister would her brother! Give us but the means to quit this place, and the good and the wicked both will bless you."

"That you shall have, my poor girl, it has often pained my heart to look at you; for I felt that you are too good for what you are, and you will be again a good honest girl. You both shall go. Poor Peter! I wish I were young enough, I would go with you; but I can't. How I shall be cheated again when he is gone! but go he must. Here Nancy, take the money; take all I have in the house:" and Mrs Chopper put upwards of 20 pounds into Nancy's hand as she was kneeling before her. Nancy fell forward with her face in the lap of the good old woman, suffocated with emotion and tears. "Come, come, Nancy," said Mrs Chopper, after a pause, and wiping her eyes with her ap.r.o.n, "you mustn't take on so, my poor girl. Recollect poor Peter; there's no time to lose."

"That is true," replied Nancy, rising up. "Mrs Chopper you have done a deed this night for which you will have your reward in heaven. May the G.o.d of mercy bless you! and, as soon as I dare, night and morning will I pray for you."

Mrs Chopper went into Joey's room with the candle in her hand, followed by Nancy. "See, how sound he sleeps!" said the old woman; "he is not guilty. Peter! Peter! come get up, child."

Joey rose from his bed, confused at first with the light in his eyes, but soon recovered himself.