Black Bess; or, the Knight of the Road — page 134: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ks mw spot where the branches and twigs seemed to grow thickest. Here hie remained, sitting perfectly still, and waiting, not witnowt great auxisty, two ascertamm what world happen next. he trampling of tke horses’ fect in one direction, and the rattling of wheels in another now grew much plainer than before, and, glancing down through the interstices of the trees. Dick again perceived the shining lights. Directly afterwards a body of mounted men galloped But upon reacning the spot where the gig had crashed against the post they came to a halt. ‘‘ Hullo !" gaid a voice, “ he’s reached the end of his race, that’s certain! My eyes, what a smash !” He pointed as he spoke to the different fragme ts of #ae gig that were strewn in all directions over the road- way. ‘¢ T wonder where the horse is?” said a voice. “Do you think he has managed to get on to tke back of it and galloped off? He's a desperate character, you know, and might have done such a thing.” “ Well, we shall soon know that, I think, for here ccimes something or other.” “ What is it—the stage-coach ?” “No, no,” said another voice—“ not the stage-coach ; it is no doubt the mail-cart.” “ Yes—yes, to be sure! And if it is, the driver and the guard will be able to tellus whether a man has galloped | t them.” “So they will.” A moment’s silence took place. Although this conversation took place at some distance down the road below the spot where Dick was hidden, yet he was able to hear distinctly every word of it, for the night air was very still, and what little wind there was waited the sounds towards him. “ Hoi—hoi!” cried one of the mounted police officers. {just the thing; “Stop—stop, will you? Pull up!” The driver of the mail-cart stopped his panting horses somewhat suddenly, and, in a gruff voice, demanded : ‘‘ What’s the matter ?”’ ‘‘ Why, there’s a smash here—do you see? And just tell us whether you have seen a man mounted on @ pony gallop past you ?” ‘No, no,” answered the driver—‘ we've not seen that ! But we have seen a pony, with a couple of shafts dangling at its sides, gallop down the road yonder as though it was mad ” ‘‘ And there was no one on its back ?” “No, cot exactly,” said the driver, with a grin. “TI shoulé ike to seo the man that would attempt such a thing.” t Well, we're after Dick Turpin!” said the officer who had before spoken. “ What?” cried the driver of the mail-cart, in some alarm. ‘You don’t mean to say he’s on this road, do ou?” rt Yes, he is, or was a short time since. Why, do you know, he got up into a geutleman’s gig vad, after having robbed him, bundled him out neck and crop into the road. It’s a thousand wonders that he escaped with his life, and even now the gentleman lies in 4 very iangerous state.” “ You don’t mean it ?” *“ Tt’s a fact.” “But when did it happen ?” 4 Only a few minutes ago.” The driver rolled his eyes fearfully as he asked: “But what did Turpin 10?" “Why, drove off in the gentleman’s gig, to be gure, as if the very devil was behind him. We came on in pursuit, and here, you see, it seems he met with a little mishap while going at such a furious rate.” ’ “Yes, it certainly looks like it. But where is he? “ That's just what I want to know. I fancied he might have got on the horse’s back and calloped down the road ; but, as it appears be has not done that, why, I think u we look about here we shall findhim.” “ Yes” said the guard, “depend upon it he could not be in the gig while it went all to smash like this without being hurt a bit. He won't get far away, take my word fox that!” * Jim's right,” said the driver. “ You may depend upon BLAOK BESS; OK, toc it he’s hiding somewhere close at hand; I showant wonder if the rascal isn’t listening to every word we say. At these words the officers faced about and ran against each other, producing great confusion. “ We'll search!” said the one in command, ‘Now, my lads, let us look about us. I'~’s tem 40 ons, hiding in some ditch or other.” “ No,” said the guard, emphatically, “ it’s my belief that he’d scramble up into one of those €rees; it could be managed easily enough. When once there, who couk see him ?” The officers looked up and shook their heads wisély as they beheld the dense foliage uf the trees. “ Now,” said the guard, “ I'l tell you what—-I've an idea —as grand idea.” “« What is it 2?” “Why, if he’s upin one o’ them trees it will ve very hard to find out which one it is, won't it ?” ‘Yes, very,” said the chief officer. ‘* We might fire a bullet tnto one of them; but I’ll warrant he’d have the good sense to remain quite still—I’ll warrant he would stand fire.” “Yes, from-a pistol,” said the guard, “because he would think there was a good chance of one bullet miss- ing him. But how about this little weapon, eh ?—what do you think of this ?” rom the leather case beside the mail-cart he produced a large-sized carbine of the kind then made use of by the military. “Yes,” continued the guard, as he jumped down off the steps of the mail-cart, ‘‘I rather think this will be the ticket. And, mark me, if Dick Turpin is up ir one of those trees I'll show him something he has never thought of in all his life.” “Ts it loaded ?” said the chief officer. “Yes, of course it’s loaded. The priming mayn’t be but, however, Tll soon put that right.” As he spoke, the guard threw up the pan, shook out the grains of powder in it, and placed in some fresh. Now,” he said, “‘I am ready, and this gun hasinita rattling good charge, I can assure you.” “ Stop a bit,” said the chief officer. ‘‘ Are you going to fire up in the trees with it ?” ‘Of course 1 am!” “But how do you know which one he is in ?” “TJ will soon find that out,” said the guard, as he put the carbine up to his shoulder. “I will begin with this one.” “‘ Stop-—stop !” What for 2?” ““ Why, you know,” said the officer, “that I must call him first to surrender.” “Oh, yes—certainly; I forgot.” The police officer then stepped a little more into the middle of the roadway, and, pitching his voice in a higher key, exclaimed : “ Dick Turpin, we, his Majesty's officers of police, have good reason for believing that you have concealed your- self in one of these trees, and in the King’s name we call upon you to surrender, and if, after having called upon you three times——” “Blow it!” said the guard, impatiently, “be quick! Don’t you know I amin a hurry?” *- You be d—d !” said the officer, angrily. ‘ Who told you to interfere? Don’t you think I knowmy duty better than you dor” ‘‘Oh yes, that’s right enough,” said the guard, ina more mollified tone: “but you are so awiully loag- windeu.” The chief officer evidently thought something of the guard’s carbina, or he would not have smothered hig resentment so easily. Once more looking up into the trees, he said : “Dick Turpin, | call upon youto surrender, ar‘! warm you if you do not that we shail fire, and the conse: ucuoes will then be on your own head !” A profound silence followed this spcech, that would have been perfect save for the incessant rustling a the trees. “ Dick Turpin, for the second time : «caj) spon pax oe surrender !” Again there wage deep silenne. (e{o) ,OOKS (Elo)