Black Bess; or, the Knight of the Road — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

1542 expanse of well-cultivatud land, forming part of the do- main of Sir Ralph Cromer. The village, as he suspected, he found scarcely worthy of the name, and was inhabited only by thosu peopie em- ployed directly or indirectly by the baronet. There was an ale-house, with a large swinging sfzgn; and just beyond that, lying rather back from the road, was a small house, on the frwé of which was paiated: “ Klisha Coles, apothecary.” The appearance of Tom King in this remote and little-frequented place caused an immunse amount of ex- citemeut—an excitement that would aave been greater still had he arrived at any other portiun of the day. But just then it happened that the saajority of the in- habitants were absent pursuing teir daily occupa- tions, Tom was just beginning to think that surely this quiet little retreat was one in which nothing of kim or his comrades could be known—some place where the police officers would never penetra‘e—when he discovered that it was quite a delusion. He absolutely started indeed when he saw posted upon a wall a bill similar in appearance to many he had seen before. It was some distance off, rut he did not desire to approach it any closer. He could tell very well tbat the figures at the top re- “resented the amount of the .eward offered for the appre- h nsion of himself and his companions, and that below hes a full description at the personal appearance of each. After seeing this, Tom might naturally hesitate before he ventu.ed to trust himself in the apothecary’s abode. But pain quickly banished that hesitation, and he looked around him with a somewhat pleasant smile, feeling that he could if necessary, vanquish the whole village. Perceiving that a stranger had stopped before his gate a small, thin man, with scanty grey hair, opened the front door of the house, end advanced with a stoopiug gait. ‘‘Good morning, sir!” he said, in a voice between a whine and adrawl. ‘ Heaven be praised, I can say it~ good morning, sir! May I ask what you want with me !” Tom King thought this avery singular address, and stared at the speaker with surprise. His amazement lasted only for a moment, and then he inquired : “Am J addressing Mr. Coles ?” ‘‘ Yes—praise the Lord, for a?! His mercies—such is my name.” “ Then,” said Tom, ‘*I have been sent down from the hall, by Sir Ralph; he tells mo tat you are clever in surgery, and you see I have met with a slight accident to my arm.” ‘Oh, Sir Ralph is too good—much too good, and yet not good either, if I may contradict myself—-he is an evil- minded man, quite dead to all true piety and religion. May I hope, sir, that you are a believer—that vou have been saved ?” ** Oh, decidedly !” said Tom. “Tf not,” continued the pious apothecary, * ‘either allow me to convert you, or else depart. -I will give no assistance to the ungodly.” ‘‘T need no conversion,” said Tom: -* none at all, I can assure you.” au ake ee “T rejoice to hear it,” was the reply“ great] y rejoice Please to enter, my good sir, and while I am at tending to your hurt we can have a little edifying conver sation upon grac.”’ Luckily, just then, Tom turned round, for he could not suppress a smile at the idea of one of his profession having any such conversation. : Somehow or other he had taken an invinc’ot dislike to Mr. Coles, in spite of all his professions of piet Y- Tom’s own opinion was that, like many o thers he assumed religion only as a cloak. Whether this was so or not really did not muc hb signily to the highwayman, provided he was really @ Xpert in aressing wounds, “Tam a poor, week, trembling worm,” he sa id, as he ashered Tom King into a small parlour at the bac of his little shop—“‘ a poor, trembling worm, weak in be @y, but \ trust strong in grace” BLACK BES8; Of, Sent Tom gave a sympathetic sigh and shook his head, which he thought were the best things he could do by way of reply. “Sit down my dear sir—take this chair, and allow me to examine the nature of the injury.” Toin giadly complied, for just then he really felt quite ill and taiut, and instead of one apothecary hs saw fifty at least spinning round before him. ‘* Why, gracious powers, is it possible Fr” eiaculated Mr. O les. “ Why, this is a wound you have revived from some kind of firearm !” ‘‘ Yes—yes, you are quite right.” A look of surprise and curiosity appeared on the apothecary’s face as he siid : “ How strange for you to speak of it as an accident ; J never saw auything look less accidental in my life,” ‘No mutter,” said Tom, very faintly—“see to it, I beg. I feel now as though all the life had ebbed out of my veins.” One glance into Tom’s countenance was ample con- ftirmation of the truth of what he had just gaid. His eyes were half closed and his face deathly pale. Mr. Coles now bestirred himself in good earnest, and, by the way in which he went about his work, justified the opinion Sir Ralph had expressed concerning him. Tom grew fainter and fainter—he became insensible of all pain. He knew that the apothecary was busy with his arm, and had some dim idea that a bullet had been extracted, for he fancied that a voice miles and miles off had whis- pered something to that effact in his ear. When he recovered himself, he found his arm carefully bound up, and Mr. Coles standing over him, gazing very attentively into his countenance. Tom opened his eyes suddenly —so suddenly, indeed, that the apothecary gave a start and uttered an ejacula- tiou that did not sound particularly pious. At the same time, Tom saw him cram something rather hastily into one of his pockets, but what it was he could not make out. ‘“ Ahem!” he said, in some confusion. betier now, sir, I hope ?” “Yes, decidedly better,” said Tom,in a very faint voice, and pretending to be much weaker than he really was, for he thought by this means he should be able to understand the meaning of the apothecary’s confusion. He had his eyes all the time fixed upon the coat-pocket into which that something had been thrust so hurriedly. “Have you nothing to revive me—something in the shape of a stimulant ?” Mr. Coles had been watching Tom with half-closed eyes, in an attitude and manner strongly resembling the way in which a cat will regard the movements of a mouse. ‘¢ Yes,” he said, “I have something that will do you good, and after that we will return thanks for your harrow escape and comp:ete restoration.” : The apothecary turned round and opened a drawer. While he was so engaged his back was turned towards Tom, who leaning quickly forward, dipped his fiugers into the gaping coat pocket and drew forth a crumpled up piece of paz, Before he had time to look at it the apothecary turned round and said: ‘‘ Here, my dear sir, is the stimulant I spok of.” Then, in a tone of voice strikingly at variance to thas which he had all along employed, he exclaimed: “Tom King, I know you, aud I claimthe reward! Do you feel that pressing against your forehead? Do you know whatitis? Itis the muzzle of a pistol—a pistol carefully loaded, and if you stir or offer the least re- sistance I will blow your brains out aud say I did it im self-defence !” {t cost Tom a great effort, but nevertheless he sat per- fectly still, except that he partially unfolded the crumpled up paper, and saw that it was one of the bills contain’n a description of himself. ‘* You are weak,” said the apothecary, excited] y—" vou have not the strength of ® mouse; and remember, this pistol is at your head. Show your good sense, then, by immediate surrender.” | Tom closed his eyes, and seemed as though he hal quite swooned away for the second time, The ection threw the apothecary. partielly off iis “You feel Gomichboo <S7icom