Part 1 (2/2)
”I a.s.sist you in carrying your luggage! A good joke! But I see you are not quite what I took you for; and if you'll stand a n.o.bbler or two, I don't mind calling a porter for you, and showing you to a slap-up inn to suit you,” said the man, his manner completely changing. ”You'll have to pay the porter pretty handsomely, my new chums! People don't work for nothing in this country.”
While they were hesitating about accepting the man's offer to get a porter, thinking that there could be no harm in that, a country lad, Sam Green by name, who had come out as a steerage pa.s.senger with them, approached. As soon as he saw them he ran up exclaiming--
”Oh, Master Gilpins, there's a chap been and run off wi' all my traps, and I've not a rag left, but just what I stand in!”
Sam was, of course, glad enough to a.s.sist in carrying their luggage.
James apologised to the stranger, saying he would not trouble him.
”Not so fast, young chum!” exclaimed the man. ”You promised me a couple of n.o.bblers, and engaged me to call a porter. I'm not going to let you off so easily! Down with the tin, or come and stand the treat!”
The Gilpins were rather more inclined to laugh at the man than to be angry; certainly they had no intention of paying him. Perhaps their looks expressed this. He was becoming more and more bl.u.s.tering, when a cry from several people was heard; and looking up the street, an open carriage with a pair of horses was seen das.h.i.+ng down towards the water at a furious rate. There was no coachman on the box, but that there was some one in the carriage James discovered by seeing a shawl fluttering from the side, and by hearing a piercing shriek, uttered apparently as if then, for the first time, the lady had discovered the imminence of her danger. In a few seconds the carriage would have been dragged over the quay and into water many fathoms deep.
”Stop the horses! Fifty--a hundred--five hundred pounds to whoever will do it!” shouted a man's voice from within.
Right and left the people were flying out of the way of the infuriated steeds. There was not manhood enough left apparently in the idle, dissipated-looking loiterers who were standing near. Two or three took their hands out of their pockets and ran forward, but quickly returned as the horses came galloping by them. The young Gilpins heard the gentleman's offer.
”We don't want that!” cried James. ”Come on, Arthur!”
They sprang towards the carriage, one on each side; and then turning, ran in the direction it was going, grasping the head-stalls of the animals as they pa.s.sed, but allowing themselves to be carried on some way, their weight however telling instantly on the galloping steeds.
Sam Green had remained standing by the luggage, having made up his mind that the suspicious-looking stranger would decamp with it, if left unguarded. When, however, he saw that the horses, in spite of his young friends' efforts, would drag the carriage over, unless stopped, he started up, with his hands outstretched before him, uttering with stentorian voice a true English ”Woh! woho!” and then, with an arm from which an ox would dislike to receive a blow, he seized the heads of the horses, already trying to stop themselves, and forced them back from the edge stones of the quay, which they had almost reached. Undoubtedly the horses had been broken in by a trainer from the old country: Sam Green's ”Woh! woho!” acted like magic; and the pacified though trembling animals allowed themselves to be turned round, with their heads away from the water. While the elder Gilpin and Sam held them, Arthur ran to open the door, that the lady and gentleman might alight. The one was of middle age, the other very young--father and daughter, Arthur surmised.
”My brave lads, you have n.o.bly won the reward I promised,” said the gentleman, as he lifted out his daughter, who, pale and agitated, still, by the expression of her countenance, showed the grat.i.tude she felt.
”I am sure that my brother and I require no reward for doing our duty,”
answered Arthur, blus.h.i.+ng as he spoke. ”Besides, without the aid of that other lad, our fellow-pa.s.senger, we should probably have failed.”
”What! I took you for labouring youths, I beg your pardon,” said the gentleman, giving a glance of surprise at him.
”Our intention is to labour,” said Arthur, unaffectedly.
”Ah! you have the stuff in you to command success,” said the gentleman.
”But I must request you to accompany me for a short distance, as my daughter prefers walking; and if I once lose sight of you in this straggling city, I may not easily find you again.”
”Thank you, sir,” said Arthur; ”we have our luggage with us, and must go to an inn; but if you will favour me with your address, we will call on you before we leave Sydney.”
While they were speaking, the coachman, in consequence of whose carelessness in letting go their heads the horses had run away, came up, and released James and Sam. Not a word of scolding was uttered--the gentleman thought a moment.
”Here, Sykes, lift that luggage into the carriage, and drive these young gentleman home; leave them there, and come back for Miss f.a.n.n.y and me to the club.”
In vain the young Gilpins expostulated.
”I am a determined person, and will have it so,” said the gentleman.
Before they looked round, Sam had stowed away their luggage in the carriage, greatly to the disappointment of the bully, who had, it seemed, been watching for an opportunity to make off with a portion.
The stranger then, almost against their will, forced them into it; and writing a few lines on the leaf of a pocket-book, gave it to the coachman. ”Come, my friend, you must go in also,” he added, taking Sam by the arm.
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