Part 57 (1/2)

But the scowl of Barnabas grew only the blacker, his lips but curled the fiercer, and his fingers tightened their grip upon the bludgeon as, alone now, he fronted those who remained of the nine.

Now chancing to glance towards a certain spot, he espied something that lay in the angle of the wall, and, instinctively stooping, he picked up Mr. Shrig's little book, slipped it into his pocket, felt a stunning blow, and reeled back, suddenly faint and sick. And now a mist seemed to envelop him, but in the mist were faces above, below, around him, faces to be struck at. But his blows grew weak and ever weaker, the cudgel was torn from his lax grip, he staggered back on stumbling feet knowing he could fight no more, and felt himself caught by a mighty arm, saw a face near by, comely and dimpled of chin, blue-eyed, and with whiskers trimmed into precise little tufts on either cheek. Thereafter he was aware of faint cries and shouts, of a rus.h.i.+ng patter like rain among leaves, and of a voice speaking in his ear.

”Right about face,--march! Easy does it! mind me 'ook, sir, the p'int's oncommon sharp like. By your left--wheel! Now two steps up, sir--that's it! Now three steps down, easy does it! and 'ere we are.

A cheer, sir, now water and a sponge!”

Here Barnabas, sinking back in the chair, leaned his head against the wall behind him, and the mist grew more dense, obliterating all things.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

OF CORPORAL RICHARD ROE, LATE OF THE GRENADIERS; AND FURTHER CONCERNING MR. SHRIG'S LITTLE READER

A small, dim chamber, with many gla.s.ses and bottles arrayed very precisely on numerous shelves; a very tall, broad-shouldered man who smiled down from the rafters while he pulled at a very precise whisker with his right hand, for his left had been replaced by a s.h.i.+ning steel hook; and Mr. Shrig who shook his placid head as he leaned upon a long musket whose bayonet twinkled wickedly in the dim light; all this Barnabas saw as, sighing, he opened his eyes.

”'E's all right now!” nodded the smiling giant.

”Ha!” exclaimed Mr. Shrig, ”but vith a lump on 'is 'ead like a negg.

'Run!' I sez. 'No!' sez 'e,--and 'ere's me vith vun eye a-going into mourning, and 'im vith a lump on 'is n.o.b like a noo-laid egg!”

”'E's game though, Jarsper,” said the benevolent giant.

”Game! I believe you, Corp!” nodded Mr. Shrig. ”Run!' I sez. 'No!'

sez 'e. 'Then v'ot vill you do?' sez I. 'Make them!' sez 'e. Game?

Lord love me, I should say so!” Here, seeing Barnabas sit upright, Mr. Shrig laid by the musket and came towards him with his hand out.

”Sir,” said he, ”when them raskels got me down they meant to do for me; ah! they'd ha' given me my quietus for good an' all if you 'adn't stood 'em off. Sir, if it ain't too much, I should like to shake your daddle for that!”

”But you saved my life twice,” said Barnabas, clasping the proffered hand.

”V'y the coping-stone I'll not go for to deny, sir,” said Mr. Shrig, stroking his smooth brow, ”but t'other time it were my friend and pal the Corp 'ere,--Corporal Richard Roe, late Grenadiers. 'E's only got an 'ook for an 'and, but vith that 'ook 'e's oncommonly 'andy, and as a veapon it ain't by no means to be sneezed at. No, 'e ain't none the worse for that 'ook, though they thought so in the army, and it vere 'im as brought you off v'ile I vos a-chasing of the enemy vith 'is gun, yonder.”

”Why, then I should like to thank Corporal Richard Roe,” said Barnabas,--(here the Corporal tugged at his precise and carefully trimmed whisker again), ”and to shake his hand as well.” Here the giant blushed and extended a huge fist.

”Honored, sir,” said he, clicking his heels together.

”And now,” said Mr. Shrig, ”ve're all a-going to drink--at my expense.”

”No, at mine,” said Barnabas.

”Sir,” said Mr. Shrig, round and placid of eye, ”ven I says a thing I means it. Consequent you are now a-going to sluice your ivory vith a gla.s.s of the Vun an' Only, at my expense,--you must and you shall.”

”Yes,” said Barnabas, feeling in his pockets. ”I must, my purse is gone.”

”Purse!” exclaimed Mr. Shrig, his innocent eyes rounder than ever, ”gone, sir?”

”Stolen,” nodded Barnabas.