The Broad Highway - Jeffery Farnol (urban books to read .txt) š
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CHAPTER XLIV
THE BOW STREET RUNNERS
It was toward evening of the next day that the door of my prison was opened, and two men entered. The first was a tall, cadaverous-looking individual of a melancholy cast of feature, who, despite the season, was wrapped in a long frieze coat reaching almost to his heels, from the pocket of which projected a short staff, or truncheon. He came forward with his hands in his pockets, and his bony chin on his breast, looking at me under the brim of a somewhat weather-beaten hatāthat is to say, he looked at my feet and my hands and my throat and my chin, but never seemed to get any higher.
His companion, on the contrary, bustled forward, and, tapping me familiarly on the shoulder, looked me over with a bright, appraising eye.
āSāelp me, Jeremy!ā said he, addressing his saturnine friend, āsāelp me, if I ever see a pore misfortānate cove more to my mind anā fancyānice anā tall anā straight-leggedātwelve stone if a poundāa five-foot drop nowāor say five foot six, anā āeāll go off as sweet as a bird; ah! youāll never feel it, my coveyānot a twinge; a leetle tightish round the windpipe, pārāapsābut, Lord, itās soon over. Youāre lookinā a bit pale round the gills, young cove, but, Lord! thatās only natāral too.ā Here he produced from the depths of a capacious pocket something that glittered beneath his agile fingers. āAnd āow might be your general āealth, young cove?ā he went on affably, ābobbish, I āopeāfair anā bobbish?ā As he spoke, with a sudden, dexterous motion, he had snapped something upon my wrists, so quickly that, at the contact of the cold steel, I started, and as I did so, something jingled faintly.
āThere!ā he exclaimed, clapping me on the shoulder again, but at the same time casting a sharp glance at my shackled wrists āāthereānow weāre all āappy anā comfortable! I see as youāre a cove as takes things nice anā quiet, anāāso long as you doāIām your friendāBobās my name, anā bobbish is my naturā. Lord!āthe way Iāve seen misfortānate coves take on at sight oā them ābraceletsā is something out-rageous! But youāwhy, youāre a different kidneyāyouāre my kind, you are what do you say, Jeremy?ā
āDonāt like āis eye!ā growled that individual.
āDonāt mind Jeremy,ā winked the other; āitās just āis per-werseness. Lord! āe is the per-wersest codger you ever see! Why, āe finds fault wiā the Pope oā Rome, jest because āeās in the āabit oā lettinā coves kiss āis toeāIāve āeard Jeremy work āisself up over the Pope anā a pint oā porter, till youād āave thoughtāā
āAināt we never a-goinā to start?ā inquired Jeremy, staring out of the window, with his back to us.
āAnd where,ā said I, āwhere might you be taking me?ā
āWhy, since you ax, my covey, we ām a-takinā you where youāll be took good care on, where youāll feed well, and āave justice done on youātrust us for that. Though, to be sure, Iām sorry to take you from such proper quarters as these āereānice and airyāeh, Jeremy?ā
āAh!āanā wiā a fine view oā the graves!ā growled Jeremy, leading the way out.
In the street stood a chaise and four, surrounded by a pushing, jostling throng of men, women, and children, who, catching sight of me between the Bow Street Runners, forgot to push and jostle, and stared at me with every eye and tooth they possessed, until I was hidden in the chaise.
āRight away!ā growled Jeremy, shutting the door with a bang.
āWhoa!ā roared a voice, and a great, shaggy golden head was thrust in at the window, and a hand reached down and grasped mine.
āA pipe anā ābaccy, Peterāfrom me; a flask oā rumāSimonās best, from Simon; anā chicken sang-widges, from my Prue.ā This as he passed in each article through the window. āAnā I were to say, Peter, as we are all wiā youāever anā ever, anā I were likewise to tell āee as āow Prueāll pray for āee oftener than before, anā āecod!ā he broke off, the tears running down his face, āthere were a lot more, but Iāve forgot it all, only, Peter, me anā Simon be goinā to get a lawyer chap for āee, anāāoh, man, Peter, say the word, anā Iāll have āee out oā this in a twinklinā anā weāll run for itāā
But, even as I shook my head, the postboyās whip cracked, and the horses plunged forward.
āGood-by, George!ā I cried, āgood-by, dear fellow!ā and the last I saw of him was as he stood rubbing his tears away with one fist and shaking the other after the chaise.
CHAPTER XLV
WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF, AMONG OTHER MATTERS, WITH THE BOOTS OF THE SATURNINE JEREMY
āA bottle oā rum!ā said the man Bob, and taking it up, very abstracted of eye, he removed the cork, sniffed at it, tasted it, took a gulp, and handed it over to his companion, who also looked at, sniffed at, and tasted it. āAnd what dāye make oā that, Jeremy?ā
āTasted better afore now!ā growled Jeremy, and immediately took another pull.
āSang-widges, too!ā pursued the man Bob, in a ruminating tone, āanā I always was partial to chicken!ā and, forthwith, opening the dainty parcel, he helped himself, and his companion also.
āWhat dāye make oā them, Jeremy?ā he inquired, munching.
āIāve eat wuss!ā rumbled Jeremy, also munching.
āYoung cove, they does you credit,ā said the man Bob, nodding to me with great urbanity, āgreat creditāthere aināt many misfortānates as can per-jooce such sang-widges as them, though, to be sure, they eats uncommon quick āold āard there, Jeremyāā But, indeed, the sandwiches were already only a memory, wherefore his brow grew black, and he glared at the still munching Jeremy, who met his looks with his usual impenetrable gloom.
āA pipe and ābacca!ā mused the man Bob, after we had ridden some while in silence, and, with the same serene unconsciousness of manner, he took the pipe, filled it, lighted it, and puffed with an air of dreamy content.
āJeremy is a good-ish sort,ā he began, with a complacent flourish of the pipe, āa good-ish sort, but cross-grainedāLord! young cove, āis cross-grainedness is ekalled only by āis per-werseness, and ācause why?āācause āe donāt smokeā(go easy wiā the rum, Jeremy!) thereās nothinā like a pipe oā ābacca to soothe such things away (I got my eye on ye, Jeremy!)āno, thereās nothinā like a pipe oā ābacca. Look at meāI were the per-wersest infant that ever was, till I took to smokinā, and to-day, whatever I am, I aināt per-werse, nor yet cross-grained, and many a misfortānate cove, as is now no moreāāas wept over me at partināāā
āThey generally always do!ā growled Jeremy, uncorking the rum-bottle with his teeth.
āNo, Jerry, no,ā returned the other, blowing out a cloud of smoke; āmisfortānates aināt all the sameā(arter you wiā that bottle!)āyou āave Cryers, and Laughers, and Pray-ers, and Silent Ones, and the silent coves is the dangerousestā(arter you wiā the bottle, Jeremy!)ānow you, my covey,ā he went on, tapping my hand gently with his pipe-stem, āyou aināt exactly talkative, in factānot wishinā no offense, I might say as you was inclined to be one oā the Silent Ones. Not as I āolds that againā youāfar from it, only you reminds me of a young cove as āad the misfortān to get āisself took for forgery, and whoāarter me a-talkinā and a-chattinā to āim in my pleasant way went and managed to commit sooicideāunder my very noseāwhich were āardly nice, or even respectable, considerināā(arter you wiā the bottle, Jeremy!)ā
Jeremy growled, held up the bottle to the failing light of evening, measured its contents with his thumb, and extended it unwillingly towards his comradeās ready hand; but it never got there, for, at that instant, the chaise lurched violentlyāthere was a cry, a splintering of glass, a crash, and I was lying, half stunned, in a ditch, listening to the chorus of oaths and cries that rose from the cloud of dust where the frightened horses reared and plunged.
How long I remained thus I cannot say, but, all at once, I found myself upon my feet, running down the road, for, hazy though my mind yet was, I could think only of escape, of liberty, and freedomāat any priceāat any cost. So I ran on down the road, somewhat unsteadily as yet, because my fall had been a heavy one, and my brain still reeled. I heard a shout behind meāthe sharp crack of a pistol, and a bullet sang over my head; and then I knew they were after me, for I could hear the patter of their feet upon the hard road.
Now, as I ran, my brain cleared, but this only served me to appreciate the difficulty of eluding men so seasoned and hardy as my pursuers; moreover, the handcuffs galled my wrists, and the short connecting chain hampered my movements considerably, and I saw that, upon this straight level, I must soon be run down, or shot from behind.
Glancing back, I beheld them some hundred yards, or so, away, elbows in, heads up, running with that long, free stride that speaks of endurance. I increased the pace, the ground flew beneath me, but, when I glanced again, though the man Bob had dropped back, the saturnine Jeremy ran on, no nearer, but no farther than before.
Now, as I went, I presently espied that for which I had looked āa gate set in the midst of the hedge, but it was closed, and never did a gate, before or since, appear quite so high and insurmountable; but, with the desperation of despair, I turned, ran at it, and sprang, swinging my arms above my head as I did so. My foot grazed the top barādown I came, slipped, stumbled, regained my balance, and ran on over the springy turf. I heard a crash behind me, an oath, a second pistol barked, and immediately it seemed that a hot iron seared my forearm, and glancing down, I saw the skin cut and bleeding, but, finding it no worse, breathed a sigh of thankfulness, and ran on.
By that leap I had probably gained some twenty yards; I would nurse my strength, therefore. If I could once gain the woods! How far off were they?āhalf-a-mile, a mile?āwell, I could run that easily, thanks to my hardy life. Stay! what was that sound behind meāthe fall of flying feet, or the throbbing of my own heart? I turned my head; the man Jeremy was within twelve yards of meālean and spare, his head thrust forward, he ran with the long, easy stride of a greyhound.
So it was to be a question of endurance? Well, I had caught my second wind by now. I set my teeth, and, clenching my fists, lengthened my stride.
And now, indeed, the real struggle began. My pursuer had long ago abandoned his coat, but his boots were heavier and clumsier than those I wore; but then, again, my confining shackles seemed to contract my chest; and the handcuffs galled my wrists cruelly.
On I went, scattering flocks of scampering sheep, past meditative cows who started up, puffing out snorts of perfume; scrambling through hedges, over gate and stile and ditch, with eyes upon the distant woods full of the purple gloom of evening, and, in my ears, the muffled thud! thud! thud! thud! of the pursuit, sometimes seeming much nearer, and sometimes much farther off,
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