Captain Joe; or, The Days of the Mint — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

30 THE HALFPENNY STANDARD. = CAPTAIN JOE. “Bora the apprentices of Mr. Sawdust have absented tnemselves from home, and he has become most anxious about them. Jack, or Jack o’ the Mint, as they call him, he doesn’t know where to send for, but Master Dick Marlow’s mother’s living here. Why e ; “Yes, just so,” said Dick. “You want Dick Marlow. I know the saucy blade well. I'll go and tell his mother.” He hastened up the stairs and returned hurriedly in » moment. “I'm sorry you've come,’ he said. “ Mrs. Marlow was very ill before, but this has made her worse. She has not seen or heard anything of Dick since yesterday morning; and as for Jack o’ the Mint, she doesn’t believe they can be together, for she says they're not friends. She is too ill or she would come round to the shop.” “Oh, tell her not to do that,” said the other, with gruff kindness. “I expect it’s only some apprentice spree. Good morning!” “Good morning, sir,” said Dick, with a bow. Then he added to himself—“‘ Ha! Jack hasn’t returned home. Perhaps he died by the way. This was a close shave, however. Old Scraps, the ironmonger, next door—who the devil would have thought of seeing him here after me?” In less than half an boura glorious break- fast had been cooked and eaten; and then Mrs. Marlow, proud of her gaily-dressed son, and little dreaming of the terrible trath, took her way with him towards St. Bartholomew’s Fields, where a grand fair was to be held. It was a splendid day, and as they moved along towards the place of merry meeting such a calm feeling of enjoyment fell over Dick Marlow that he could not heip expres- sing a wish that it could be always hke this, and that he had never fallen upon the com- panions who had taught him evil ways and the golden paths into which they led for awhile. St. Bartholomew's Fields, which extended for some distance on the Surrey side of old London Bridge, were full already of a gay and giddy throng when they reached them. Every class was there represented. The merchant trader and his family, the gay gallant, the blastering bully, the jolly apprentice and his sweetheart, the mounte- bank, the poor poet, the pensive student, and the reckless ne’er-do-well—all mingled in the wild confusion, in the ever-moving throng. “Well, you have made me happy to-day, Dick!” said his mother, smiling as they paused to observe the capers of some dancers. “TF little thonght when I woke loomy and sad this morning that I should out in the sunshine at all.” “TI am glad, indeed, dear mother, that I have been able to give you pleasure,” said Dick in a genuine burst of love. “I muat come and see you oftener.” “ Indeed, yes,” said Mrs, Marlow; “ but tell me, my boy, who is this lady you hope to see?” Dick langhed. It bad only in very truth been an inven- tion of his own fertile brain to pass off his falsehood about the holiday. ‘ “ Ah! mother,” be ssid, assuming an im- portant sir, “Ah! that | mast not tell; if we meet the lady, then shall she be imre- duced to yor. But, see! here are some mountebanks ; let us pause and see them.” Amused for a time by the antics of the tumblers and the jugglers, Dick Marlow did not perceive that both he and his mother were objects of intense curiosity to two persons. » The one a lady, whose face he could not well discern. The other a man, whose dark visage was nearly concealed by his hat. The lady was.young, as could be seen at once from the contour of her form; and, if the rest of her face could be judged by her eyes, she was also beantiful. The man was of middle age, short and burly, and evidently not weil pleased at somothing. “That is he, my preserver,” murmured the young girl inhis ear. “ Now that you know all, you cannot but be pleased that he tore me from the arms of such a villain.” “T don’t know,” said the man. ‘‘ Perhaps he will prove troublesome, find out our secrets, want you himself, and so on.” The young lady laughed. “Well,” she said, “ne would at least make a more presentable husband than Sir Albert. Shall we not speak to him?” “To what purpose ?” muttered the man. “You cannot invite him to the house. You know that would be madness.” A faint flush spread over the young girl’s cheeks. “Wo; but I can at least thank him,” she answered. And, with the words, she advanced towards Dick Marlow, the man reluct- antly fullowing. Dick was crossing the other way when her little arm was laid upon his. He started as he felt the contact. His guilty conscience made him. think every moment of thieves and thieftakers, The young girl had drawn aside her veil now and appeared before him in all her Tadiamt beauty. : One instant and Dick recognised her, and a flood of crimson overspread his face. What could he say now—how could he explain to bis mother the truth of thestory she would tell ? He had no time left him, however, to think or plot. “ Oh, sir,” said the lady, “I am so glad of this meeting. I had thought I should never meet with you again, to tell you how gratefal Iam for your gallant conduct the other night. Here is my father, Sir John Fleming; he will thank you.” The knight, thus addressed, could but do as she bade him, although in his heart ho cursed her imprudence. “Yes, young sir,” he said, holding out his hand, “I‘am indeed glad of this oppor- tunity of thanking you. My daughter was in the power of a villain—a great villain, sir—and I shall be pleased to know the name of her preserver.” Before Dick could reply bis mother spoke— “This is my son, sir,” she said. “ He bears a once well-known name—one which is honourable, though little heard of in the busy world—he is Lord Eustace Fortescue, son of the lord of the same name who was killed years ago at a masquerade ball. I am his mother.” Dick Marlow listened like one stunned by a sudden blow, and he glanced at his mother as if to detect the gleam of madness in her eyes. Rntin this he was disappointed. She was perfectly culo and assnred, and he felt a s and exciting emotion at his heart as Sir John Fleming took her hand and raised it gallantly to his lips. “Tam pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Fortescue,” he said. “I was afraid from the strange\manner in which my daughter Edith made the acquaintance of your son that he was connected with a wild and lawless set of men. His name now is his password, and I trust it will not be long before we see him and you at our house,” As Sir John was speaking, Kdith Fleming had approached close to Dick, and, watching her opportunity, slipped into his hands a tiny note, which, with eager haste, he placed in the bosom of his coat,. .. She was just in time. + Sir John and Mrs. Marlow were just ex- changing adieus, and in a few moments the scene was over like a dream, and mother and son were once more atone. “What means this, mother?” asked Dick. “ Why did you introduce me to these people as Lord Kustace Fortescue? Is there truth in it P” : Mrs. Marlow lIanghed bitterly. “It was a whim—a fancy,” she said, hurriedly, “‘and whieh it may be uaecful to you to keep up. Bat, come, let us move on, people are observing us.” “A whim—a fancy!” muttered Dick, as they passed on. “It strikes me there is some strange mystery here.” As soon as they had changed their quarters, Mrs. Marlow spoke again. “What did Sir John Fleming mean, Dick,” she said, “by his allusion to the road?” Dick smiled, and looked full into her eyes, “It was a whim—a fancy, dear mother,” he said, “just as much as yours.” “Ah! Dick, you area sad boy,” she said, “come let ua see the sights.” CHAPTER XIV. GIDEON HASPER'S NARRATIVE. Tr was dark when Dick and his mother reached home, and the apprentice feariag, naturally, thas some exposure would follow their returp, had imbibed far more than was necessary, in order to give him a folse courage. Not that he was, outwardly, the worse for liquor. But his eyes sparkled, his colour was heightened, and his tongue wagged with unwonted freedom. He had not forgotton, of course, his ap- pointment at the “ Willow Tree,” and the projected burglary at Bramble Lodge; but still he deemed it pradent to go to his mother’s house and hear all the nows, however perilous that news might bre. Butapparently everything at Simon Saw- dust’s was quiet. No one had been, and mother and aon were soon disc @ goodly supper. It wan during thin es a knock came st the door of the room, and at Mrs. Marlow’s “Come in!” Gideon Hasper entered. There was a great change in his mauner of dress. Re f > 3 He was attired splendidly, his clothes sparkling with silver lace, while his bands were ringed, and his heavy sword had been exchanged for a lighter and more handsome weapon. on Bat it was not the alteration in his ap- pearance that caused the most emotion in Dick’s beart. - Tt was his mother that attracted his at- tention. ’ At sicht of Gid eqn comiclboooks asper, who stood CO©