Fallen Among Thieves. A Grandfather's Yarn

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Title:     Fallen Among Thieves. A Grandfather's Yarn
Author: Talbot Baines Reed [More Titles by Reed]

"When I was a young fellow," began my grandfather--

There was a general silence and a settling of ourselves in our seats, as the wavering voice of the old man uttered these magical words.

No one had asked him to tell a story, some of us had almost forgotten that he was sitting there in his big chair, one of the group which crowded round his own Christmas fire at Culverton Manor.

He was an old, old man, was my grandfather. The proverbial "threescore years and ten" was an old story with him, and even the "fourscore" awarded to the strong was receding into the distance. Yet there he sat, in his old straight-back chair, hale and bright, as he looked round on us his descendants, sons and daughters grey-haired already, grandchildren, who some of them were staid heads of families themselves, and the little group of great-grandchildren, who knew as well as any one that when their father's grandfather began to talk of "the days when he was young," it was worth their while to hold their peace and prick up their ears.

"When I was a young fellow," began my grandfather, stroking his old grizzled moustache, "I was a cornet in the Buffs. It was in the year-- heigho! my memory's getting rusty!--it was in the year 1803, I believe, when every one was expecting the French over, and I was quartered with my regiment at Ogilby. Ogilby is an inland town, you know, thirty miles from here; and as there was not much immediate danger of Bonaparte dropping in upon us there without good warning, we had a lazy rollicking time of it in that bright little place.

"We young officers, boys that we were, thought it a fine thing to live as grand gentlemen, and spend our pay half a dozen times over in all sorts of extravagances. And, I recollect with sorrow, I was as bad as any of them.

"Our colonel was an easy-going old soldier, who had been a wild blade himself once, and held that it was little use looking too sharply after us, so he didn't look after us at all; and we in consequence did just as we pleased.

"Sometimes we invited all the gentry round to feast with us at mess, and pledged our pay months in advance to load the table with the most costly delicacies. At other times we would sally forth, and out of sheer mischief organise a riot in the town, and end the night with broken heads, and now and then in the lock-up. And when we were tired of this, we got up I know not what gaieties to pass the time.

"As I said, I was as bad as any of them--worse perhaps. For I had had a good home and careful training, and knew all the time I was joining in the excesses of my comrades that I was a fool and a prodigal, and a traitor to my better self. And yet I went in, and might have gone on to the end of the chapter, had not an event happened to me which served to pull me up short.

"One evening that winter our festivities culminated by a grand entertainment given by the officers of our mess to all the countryside. Compared with this, our former efforts in the same direction had been mere child's play. We had hired the largest assembly room in the town, and decorated it regardless of all expense. The wine merchants and confectioners for miles round had been exhausted to furnish our supper, and the tailors and milliners driven nearly distracted over our toilets. Ogilby had never seen such a brilliant entertainment, and the officers of the Buffs had never achieved such a triumph.

"I was among the last to leave the gay scene, and as I stepped out into the chill winter air, and called for my horse, the clock of the church was striking four. My man had to help me to my saddle, for, what with the sudden change of air, added to the excesses of the evening, I was not steady enough to do it myself. My man was the son of an old tenant of my father's, and as he had known me from childhood, I was used to allowing him more familiarity than most gentlemen allow to their servants. I was, therefore, not surprised when, on reaching my quarters, after helping me to alight, he stopped a moment to speak to me before I entered the house.

"`By your leave, Master Hal,' said he, saluting, `I thought you might like to know there is bad news from Culverton.'

"`How?' I demanded, scarcely taking in what he said.

"`Bad news, begging your honour's pardon. I had it in a letter from Phoebe, the dairymaid at the Vicarage, who your honour may know is my sweetheart, or rather I am hers; and by your--'

"`Sirrah, man, drop your sweetheart and come to your news! What is it?'

"`It is news of the squire, Master Hal!' said the man, seriously.

"`My father!' I exclaimed, suddenly sobered by the name.

"`He is ill, please your honour. He had a stroke a week ago, and Phoebe says his life is despaired of.'

"`Ill a week, and I never heard!' I exclaimed. `Why did no one tell me?'

"`Your honour may remember you have not examined your letters for these three days past.'

"It was true. In the whirl of excitement, with late nights and later mornings, and never-ending frivolity, my very letters had lain on my mantelshelf unopened!

"My man turned to take my horse away to the stable. His action recalled me suddenly to myself.

"`Hold!' I said; `leave the horse here, Tucker, and help me into the saddle again.'

"Tucker gazed at me in astonishment, but did as he was bid.

"`I am going to Culverton,' I said, shortly, taking up the reins.

"`To Culverton! At this hour, and in this weather!' said Tucker, in tones of alarm. `Stay at any rate till you have had a night's rest, for you need it, master, and till I can put up what you need for the journey.'

"`Let go my horse, man!' I cried, excitedly, setting spurs to the animal and abruptly ending the honest fellow's remonstrance.

"The thought of my father lying ill, dying perhaps, and me here revelling in Ogilby, made it impossible for me to contemplate a moment's delay, even so much as to change my gay attire or provide myself with necessaries for the journey. Culverton was thirty miles distant. I had a good horse, and with all my dissipation I was capable of a fair share of endurance. I therefore yielded to my impulse, and halting only to leave word with a comrade whom I met to explain my absence to the colonel, I dashed off into the night on my way to Culverton.

"What were my thoughts during those first few hours I need hardly tell you. I hope and trust none of you will ever be tortured by the self- reproach of which I was then the victim.

"For some distance out of Ogilby the roads were pretty good, and I made tolerable progress; so that when morning broke about seven I was at least a dozen miles on my journey. I could scarcely brook the delay of a few minutes at the first village to rest my horse and swallow a hurried breakfast; but I knew that for the rest of the way accommodation, either for man or beast, was very limited, and, therefore, prudence made the unwelcome delay a necessity.

"Once more in the saddle I hoped to make up for lost time; but in this I was fated to be disappointed. For scarcely had I got beyond the village when the weather suddenly changed. The chill morning air freshened to a wind which brought snow with it, light at first, but increasing in heaviness as the day went on. The road rapidly became covered, and my horse, unable on the treacherous foothold to maintain the canter of the morning, was compelled to slacken into a trot.

"I was in no gear for weather like this, as you may suppose. I still wore the light festive attire of the previous night, covered only with my military cape, which I now drew more closely around me at every step. How I wished I had taken Tucker's prudent advice! But it was too late to help it now.

"What troubled me most was not the cold, or the driving snow in my face, but the slow pace at which progress was now possible. I had hoped to reach Culverton by noon, but by noon I had accomplished scarcely two- thirds of the distance, and every moment the difficulties of the way were increasing. My horse trudged on gallantly. The trot had long since given place to a walk, and the walk in turn often became a sheer struggle for progress through the drifts and obstacles of the uncertain road.

"As for me, I was nearly frozen in my saddle, and more than once was compelled to dismount and tramp along beside my horse in the deep snow in order to keep the blood going in my veins. And all the while the thought of my father lying there at Culverton, neglected perhaps, with no son at hand to tend him, drove me nearly frantic.

"The afternoon dragged on, and towards dark the snow ceased to fall. That was at least some comfort, for to battle through that storm in the dark would have been an impossibility. As it was, my good horse was even now ready to drop, and I was in little better plight. If either of us failed it meant an entire night in the snow, and that would be little short of certain death. It was a dreary prospect.

"However, as I say, the snow ceased to fall, and towards night the sky overhead began to clear, until presently the moon shone out and lit up the wintry scene. But for this light we might have lost our way hopelessly, for the road lay over a heath, which being all covered in snow, we had only the wayside posts to direct us and keep us on the beaten track.

"It must have been near eight o'clock, sixteen hours since I had left the assembly at Ogilby, when I caught sight in the moonlight of a small cottage a little way removed from the road on our right. The sight of this, the first habitation we had passed for hours, was welcome indeed. I could scarcely stand with hunger, fatigue, and cold, and my brave horse was stumbling at every step. Our only chance of reaching Culverton that night was in seeking such rest and refreshment as this place might afford, and I therefore gladly turned aside and led my weary steed along the by-path that led up to it.

"It was a small tumbledown cottage, or rather barn, and my fond hopes as to fire and refreshment were dashed at once. It was empty. The broken door stood ajar, the roof was nearly fallen in, and everything within and without testified that for weeks at any rate it had been deserted. Still it had walls and a roof, and so if we were not to have board we might at least for an hour or so help ourselves to lodgings.

"I led my horse in, and after much groping about was delighted to discover in one corner of the hovel a sort of stall, which had evidently at one time or other been occupied by a cow. The ground was still strewn with a little old and very vile straw, which, however, was an unexpected luxury to us both, and a mere mouthful of stale hay remained in the trough. To these desirable quarters I conducted my faithful companion, who without ceremony devoured the hay, and then, too exhausted to stand, dropped into a recumbent posture, and lay stretched on his side on the straw. I quickly followed his example, creeping as close to his side as I could for the sake of the warmth, and thus we lay in the dark, resting as we had never rested before after our day's work.

"My own fear was lest I should fall asleep. In spite of my anxiety about my father, and my bitter reproaches against myself, I felt a stupor come over me which it was almost more than human nature to resist. Once or twice I dozed off for a moment, and then woke by an effort, each time more painful, until I was tempted at last to give in and resist no longer, whatever it cost.

"I had just come to this resolve when I became suddenly aware of the sound of voices in the cottage. Whoever they belonged to, I felt sure they must have entered after me, for I had explored every corner of the place when I took possession. They had probably entered during one of my fits of drowsiness."

My first impulse was to discover myself to the new comers, and see if they could help me and my horse in our distress. But on second thoughts I decided to remain where I was until I could ascertain at least who the intruders were, and if they had any better right in the cottage than I had. I was wide awake now, and raising myself noiselessly from my horse's side, I crawled to the side of the stall and peered over.

"By the uncertain light of a small fire of sticks which they had made, I saw two men sitting on the floor regaling themselves with bread and meat and the contents of a bottle. The sight of these good things made me still more inclined to disclose my presence, but prudence again forbade; besides which there was something strange about the look of the men, and the place where they were, which excited my curiosity.

"For a long time they continued their meal in silence. It went to my heart to see the victuals disappearing at such a rate, as you may suppose.

"At length, when, for the present at any rate, their appetites seemed to be appeased, they began to talk once more.

"`You're sure there's no mistake this time?' said one.

"`I have his own word for it,' replied the other. `I tell you, Tom, he's planned it all out like Bonaparte himself.'

"`All I can say is,' said he who was called Tom, `I hope something will come of it, for I'm sick of all this doing nothing.'

"`You may be sure something will come of this,' replied the other; `and it will be something worth the while too, unless I'm mistaken, for the old gentleman is very rich; see here,' said he, producing some papers from his pocket, `this is what he says.'

"He began to read a letter, and you may fancy how I, listening behind the partition, started as I heard it.

"`Jack,' it said, `I'm watched and can't come. You and Tom must do it without me. Be you know where by eight on Friday night, and I'll send one I can trust to show you the way and help you through with it. You may rely on him, though he's a queer dog. Here's a map of the grounds of Culverton, but you won't need it, for he I send knows the place well. The steward is on our side, and will leave the back door unlatched. The strong box stands in the study, the second door on the left after you pass the great clock. The old man lies ill, and only two maids are in the house besides. The young puppy is away at Ogilby. Bring what you get to the tower by the river on Saturday night. There are jewels in the desk in the old man's room. He cannot hurt--if he tries he must be quieted--you know how.'

"I was so horrified that for a moment or two I scarcely knew whether I was awake or dreaming. My poor father, not only ill, but in peril of robbery, and perhaps murder! And I, what could I do? My impulse was to spring from my retreat and make one desperate effort to overpower the villains. But I was too weak to do it. Besides I was unarmed, whereas they had each his pistol. What could I do?

"The man who had read the letter carefully put it, along with the rough map of the Culverton grounds, into the fire, and the two sat and watched the papers as they burned.

"`He's a good man of business,' said Tom.

"`Middling,' replied the other; `and if he--'

"At that moment my horse gave a sudden start in his sleep. The quick ears of the two villains instantly caught the sound.

"`Hullo!' said one in a whisper, `what was that?'

"`Hist!' said the other, holding up his hand, `strike a light, Tom.'

"While Tom obeyed I softly dropped on my hands and knees and crawled back to my old place beside the horse, where I lay motionless, and to all appearance in a profound sleep.

"`I'm sure I heard something,' said Tom, holding up the lantern. From where they were they could see nothing but the side of the stall. They therefore crept round stealthily; and as I lay I saw the light suddenly turn on the horse.

"`A nag, as I'm a Dutchman, and saddled too!' exclaimed Tom.

"`If that's so, the rider's not far off,' said the other, grimly, taking the lantern and advancing.

"It was all I could do to lie motionless, breathing heavily, as the light fell full on my face.

"`Ah! found him!' was the exclamation, as both rushed towards me.

"I heard the cocking of a pistol close beside me, and was conscious of a rude plucking at my arm.

"`Come, get up there! What do you do here? Get up, do you hear?'

"I had one hope left, and it was a desperate one.

"I roused myself slowly, and with many feints, from my mock slumber, and rubbed my eyes and yawned, and stared first at one, then the other.

"`Get up,' again cried the men, still pulling my arm roughly, `and say what you're doing here.'

"`Doing here?' I drawled as unconcernedly as I could, stretching myself at the same time, `That's a pretty question to ask me. What were _you_ doing not to be here at eight o'clock, I'd like to know?'

"The men let go my arms, and looked at me in bewilderment.

"`Why,' said one, `are you--'

"`There,' said I, `we don't mention names in our trade. You'll learn that when you grow older, and you'll learn to be punctual too,' I added, testily.

"The men looked half abashed.

"`We were here at eight,' they said.

"`No, you were not. I was here at eight to the minute, and I had time to fall asleep, as you see, before you came. But never mind that. You know what business is on foot, I suppose?'

"`Yes, I had it all from--'

"`Hush! no names, you dolt; what did I tell you before?'

"The men were perfectly sheepish now, and I began to breathe again. It was well I had been described in the letter as a `queer dog,' for it is an easy part to act, even to save one's own life. Besides, this would account sufficiently well for my unbusinesslike attire.

"My great fear was lest the real person referred to in the letter should arrive on the scene before I had quitted it. I therefore ordered an immediate departure.

"`We've lost an hour already with your dilatoriness,' I growled; `don't let us lose any more. As it is, it is a chance if we reach Culverton before morning. Come, lead out my horse, and bring what food you have with you, for I'm starving.'

"Before five minutes had passed we were safe out of the cottage and in the high-road--I, mounted on my faithful and partly refreshed horse, eating ravenously of the scraps of bread and meat my companions had left, while they trudged along in the snow one on either side.

"In this manner we progressed for an hour or so in silence, until about one o'clock there appeared on the side of a distant hill a twinkling light. I knew it at once. It had guided me home often and often before now, and it was doing so again. But in what strange company!

"`That's Culverton, on the hill there,' said I.

"The men, who were nearly dead beat with their tramp through the deep snow, said nothing, but plodded on doggedly. It was nearly an hour more before we reached the outskirts of the estate, and by this time so exhausted were they that when I cried a halt they fairly sat down in the snow.

"I was strongly tempted to leave them there; but a desire to bring them to condign punishment prevented me. They were armed, and I was not. Besides, the reference in the letter to my father's steward made me anxious to sift the matter to the bottom.

"`Come, come,' said I, `at that rate you'll never see the strong box. Get up, men!'

"They struggled to their feet. Had they been anything but the villains they were I could have pitied them, they looked so miserable.

"`Hold my horse,' said I, dismounting, `while I go and reconnoitre. I know every inch of the ground. Keep in the dark, whatever you do, under the hedge there. So. Are you loaded?'

"`I am,' said Tom, sullenly taking out his pistol.

"`So am I,' said the other.

"`Give me one of the pistols,' I said, as coolly as I could. `You won't want both here, and I may want one.'

"Tom handed me his.

"`Now keep a look-out here, and when you hear me whistle over the wall, come sharp, mind!'

"So saying, I left them, and went on towards the house.

"Except in my father's room no lights were burning, and I began to hope that what the letter had said about the steward might after all prove to be false. I went quietly up to the back door and turned the handle. It was open. The story was true, then, and in my rage and indignation I could hardly contain myself to act my part any longer. However, I made a desperate effort.

"Holding the door slightly open I whistled softly. There was no answer. I whistled again louder. This time there was a sound of some one moving, and the faint nicker of a candle, and presently I heard a voice whisper--

"`Is it all right?'

"`All right,' I whispered back. `And you, steward?'

"`Yes. All ready. Come in.'

"I entered. My hat was over my eyes, and in the faint candle-light the false servant did not know me. I followed him to his room.

"`You're late,' he said, reaching down some keys from a nail. `Where are the rest?'

"`Outside,' I replied in a low whisper.

"But, low as it was, the voice was not disguised enough to escape the quick ear of the steward. He turned sharply round and looked at me, while I at the same moment, throwing off my cap, sprang towards him and presented my pistol.

"He was too stunned and terrified to do anything but drop on his knees and utter incoherent entreaties and ejaculations for pity.

"`How is my father?' I inquired, not heeding his entreaties, and pointing the pistol still at his head.

"`Better,' he faltered--`much better. Oh, Master--'

"`Come with me,' I replied, turning to the door.

"He accompanied me like a lamb. Had my father been worse I had intended to lock him up a prisoner in his own room. As it was, I took him silently and stealthily through the village and delivered him up then and there into the hands of the watch.

"This villain secured, it only remained to make sure of the other two. And this, as it happened, was a very easy task. For both, exhausted by their long, forced march and utterly benumbed by the cold, had fallen into a drowsy stupor under the hedge where they had been left, crouching beside my faithful steed for warmth. In this state it was simple work to secure them and march them off to custody, where at any rate they were not less comfortable for a time than they had been.

"A further visit next morning to the `tower by the river,' which was well known to the watch as a rendezvous of thieves, served to secure the rest of the conspirators: and the law of the land shortly afterwards put it out of their power one and all to practise their wicked craft again.

"As for me, that night taught me a lesson or two that I've not forgotten to this day, and which in my turn I've tried to teach to some of you here. I went back to Ogilby a wiser man than I had left it, and, thank God, a better one."

"And what did the poor horse do?" asked the youngest of the Culvertons.

"Why, he carried me back as merrily as if he'd never seen snow in all his life."

[The end]
Talbot Baines Reed's short story: Fallen Among Thieves. A Grandfather's Yarn

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