Part 21 (1/2)

The venerable and aged gentleman in the coach with his daughter, looking out on this deadly struggle with intense anxiety, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a pistol which had been dropped in the carriage, seized a critical moment, and discharged it at the ear of the freebooter, whose head was perforated by the bullet, so that his grasp relaxed, and he fell backward, with his eyes glaring on his intended victim, and, with a ferocious oath in his mouth, he expired.

The aged gentleman now called to the lady, who sprang from the coach, declaring he feared that the villain had succeeded in destroying their deliverer. Well, indeed, might he have thought so, as Twm had sunk senseless on the road, the stagnant blood blackening in his face, and his eyes projecting from their sockets.

On recovering a little, he found a young lady bathing his temples, and applying her scent-bottle, while the venerable old gentleman was busied in rubbing his neck to restore the circulation of the blood, which now happily took place.

On his recovery, our hero learnt that the party whom he had succoured were the venerable Doctor Morgan, Bishop of St. Asaph, translator of the Scriptures into Welsh, and his only daughter; and that the wounded gentleman who sent Twm to their rescue, and who had now rejoined the party, was his lords.h.i.+p's chaplain.

This spirited clergyman had manfully opposed the depredators, when they first attacked the coach, but was sadly wounded by a bullet in the right arm. In the midst of the congratulations, compliments, and explanations that followed, the spirit of the scene became suddenly changed to one that is patronized by the comic muse.

Alarmed by the report of the bishop's servants, who liberated themselves, having been tied to a tree by the thieves, the town of Hounslow evinced its heroism by sending forth its constabulary force, with the princ.i.p.al inn-keeper, who was also a farmer, and his farm-servants.

A motley a.s.semblage, in truth, it proved! Some were on foot, and some on horse or a.s.s-back, and one fellow was seen bestriding a large horned ox, that reluctantly yielded the speed required of him; while each and all were as whimsically armed as mounted. The valiant joskin on the ox, flourished a flail, threatening annihilation to the rogues of the road, but lucklessly struck his own sconce by exercising the weapon. The ostler and waiter, who was also the plough-boy, was mounted on a superannuated blind mare, and grasped a dung-fork with the consequence of a Neptune's trident. Among the others were seen bill-hooks, a scythe, three spades, an awfully long spit, and a ponderous wooden beetle.

But the most amusing figure in the group was the old landlady and farm-wife, who had hastily mounted a donkey, and was riding it in a more masculine style than is usual to the fair s.e.x, and thumping the restive brute with a vast wooden ladle, with which, for she led the van, she was prepared to battle with the highwaymen. Finding them already conquered, her heroic spirit vented itself in discontent, that she had had no hand in the great event.

”Dang un!” quoth the doughty dame, ”I would ha baisted the chops o'un noicely!”

”Shame on thee, dame! cover thy garters-whoy dusten roide like a christen woman,” cried her lord and master, who rode a high horse, and bore a huge cavalry sword.

At this rebuke, the bishop's daughter, his lords.h.i.+p, and the chaplain, laughed most heartily; while our hero, now pretty well recovered, joined in their glee.

The fallen being consigned to the care of the landlord, and the coach somewhat righted, our hero was seated by the chaplain, and facing his lords.h.i.+p, who, with his amiable daughter, cordially acknowledged his services; which the worthy prelate declared were not to be requited with mere words.

Twm, with truth, averred he was indebted for his life to the prompt.i.tude with which his lords.h.i.+p brought the ruffian down; and therefore the services he received, he said, far over-balanced any that he had rendered. The modest position in which he had thus placed himself, worked well in his favour, and was fully estimated. After having refreshed at Hounslow, and the chaplain's arm dressed, depositions having been made, before the judicial authorities, of the attack and rescue, the party filled his lords.h.i.+p's carnage again, and all were driven off towards London, well guarded by a rustic patrol sent from Hounslow.

On the way, Twm explained that he was an agent of Sir George Devereaux's to a Mr. Martyn's in Holborn, and the bearer of a sum of money to him.

The bishop seemed surprised, and declared that Mr. Martyn was his very good friend, and chosen by him to be an umpire on the following day, in a matter of great importance.

”To-morrow, then,” added the bishop, ”I shall see you at my friend's house, and learn from you in what manner I can serve your interests.”

Our hero bowed.

”Your lords.h.i.+p will have your long deferred explanation with the fiery old baronet, Sir John Wynn, then, to-morrow?” asked the chaplain.

”Yes,” replied the old bishop, ”and heaven send me scatheless from a contest with that self-willed man! In our interview I can only repeat what I have objected in my letters; and right well I know, he can only reiterate his former ill-grounded a.s.sertions.”

Our hero was thunderstruck with these observations and became silent and thoughtful.

Many were the villages and suburbs through which they pa.s.sed, before the lady, breaking a silence which had endured some time, exclaimed, ”The stones of London, at last, my Lord.”

The worthy prelate directed his coachman to drive to Mr. Martyn's; and, in a brief s.p.a.ce, the carriage stopped at a large, lofty, and many gabled house, opposite to St. Andrew's Church, in Holborn, where Twm was put down, and kindly received by Mr. Martyn, who helped him from the bishop's coach. His lords.h.i.+p observed that he was waited for by his brother, the Bishop of London, at Lambeth Palace; briefly referred to the business of the morrow, kindly shook hands with our hero, as did the young lady and the chaplain, each repeating their acknowledgments, and when the carriage drove off, Twm Shon Catty was ceremoniously ushered into the fine town-house of Mr. Martyn.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

TWM, at last, face to face with his paternal parent. A little scene between a Baronet and a Bishop. Twm's particular star brightens.

When it became known that Twm was the bearer of money from the baronet to Mr. Martyn, that he had rescued the bishop of St. Asaph and party, and that he was the hero of many other encounters with daring highwaymen, he became quite a lion in the house, was regarded as a fine specimen of a Welshman, and, in homely language, was ”made much of.”

Previous to the sound slumber that soon overcame his softly-pillow'd head, he pondered much on what he had heard of his reputed father, and felt his mind strongly impressed with the idea that the coming morrow teemed with events that would cast their shade or suns.h.i.+ne on his future days.

In a dream that followed, he found himself in the presence of a pa.s.sionate little gentleman who threatened him with terrible vengeance, unless he returned to the house of Morris Greeg, and gave his hand in marriage to the amiable daughter Shaan; and he thought he discovered in a murky recess, a parrot-nosed sprite, resembling Moses, who was grinning at his dilemma; when the lady of his former dream appeared suddenly, and smiled like an angel on the churlish old man, who forthwith smiled again, when Ianto Gwyn stood forth with his harp; on which he joined her in a Welsh jig. Then came a long and dreamless sleep, which at length was broken by the numerous clocks of London, clamorously informing its citizens of the seventh hour of a new day.