Book One
Chapter XI. Which Relates a Brief Passage-at-Arms at "The Chequers" Inn
In due season I came into Tonbridge town, and following the High
Street, presently observed a fine inn upon the right-hand side of
the way, which, as I remember, is called "The Chequers." And
here were divers loiterers, lounging round the door, or seated
upon the benches; but the eyes of all were turned the one way.
And presently, as I paused before the inn, to look up at its
snow-white plaster, and massive cross-beams, there issued from the
stable yard one in a striped waistcoat, with top-boots and a red
face, who took a straw from behind his ear, and began to chew it
meditatively; to whom I now addressed myself.
"Why--to be sure it is," said I, somewhat taken aback by his
manner; "to be sure it is."
"Oh!" said he, and shifted the straw very dexterously from one
corner of his mouth to the other, by some unseen agency, and
stared up the road harder than ever.
"Do you ever say anything much beside 'ah'?" I inquired.
He stopped chewing the straw, and with his eyes on the distance,
seemed to turn this question over in his mind; having done which,
he began to chew again.
"I aren't a Semmy, nor yet a Quaver, an' as for Friers," said he,
very deliberately, "why--Frier yourself, says I."
"Nevertheless," said I, "you are gifted with a certain terse
directness of speech that greatly reminds me of--"
"Joe!" he called out suddenly over his shoulder. "Mail, Joe!"
Lifting my eyes to the brow of the hill, I could see nothing save
a faint haze, which, however, gradually grew denser and thicker;
and out from this gathering cloud, soft, and faint with distance,
stole the silvery notes of a horn. Now I saw the coach itself,
and, as I watched it rapidly descending the hill, I longed to be
upon it, with the sun above, the smooth road below, and the wind
rushing through my hair. On it came at a gallop, rocking and
swaying, a good fifteen miles an hour; on it came, plunging into
the green shade of trees, and out into the sun again, with ever
the gathering dust cloud behind; while clear and high rang the
cheery note of the horn. And now, from the cool shadows of the
inn yard, there rose a prodigious stamping of hoofs, rattling of
chains, and swearing of oaths, and out came four fresh horses,
led by two men, each of whom wore topboots, a striped waistcoat,
and chewed upon straws.
And now the coach swung round the bend, and came thundering down
upon "The Chequers," chains jingling, wheels rumbling, horn braying
and, with a stamp and ring of hoof, pulled up before the inn.
And then what a running to and fro! what a prodigious unbuckling
and buckling of straps, while the jovial-faced coachman fanned
himself with his hat; and swore jovially at the ostlers, and the
ostlers swore back at the coachman, and the guard, and the coach,
and the horses, individually and collectively; in the midst of
which confusion, down came the window with a bang, and out of the
window came a flask, and a hand, and an arm, and, last of all, a
great, fat face, round, and mottled, and roaring as it came:
"Oho--I say damn it! damn everybody's eyes and bones--brandy!
O yoho, house--I say brandy! Guard, landlord, ostlers--brandy,
d'ye hear? I say, what the devil! Am I to die for want of a
drop of brandy? Oho!"
Now, little by little, I became conscious (how, I cannot define)
that I was the object of a close and persistent scrutiny--that I
was being watched and stared at by some one near by. Shifting my
eyes, therefore, from the mottled face at the coach window, I
cast them swiftly about until they presently met those of one of
the four outside passengers--a tall, roughly-clad man who leaned
far out from the coach roof, watching me intently; and his face
was thin, and very pale, and the eyes which stared into mine
glowed beneath a jagged prominence of brow.
At the time, though I wondered at the man's expression, and the
fixity of his gaze, I paid him no further heed, but turned my
attention back to Mottle-face, who had, by this time, bellowed
himself purple. Howbeit, in due time, the flask having been
replenished and handed to him, he dived back into the recesses
of the coach, jerked up the window, and vanished as suddenly as
he had appeared.
But now the four fresh horses were in and harnessed, capering and
dancing with an ostler at the head of each; the Driver tossed off
his glass of rum and water, cast an eye up at the clouds, remarked:
"Wind, by Gemini!" settled his feet against the dashboard, and
gathered up the reins. And now, too, the Guard appeared, wiping
his lips as he came, who also cast an eye up at the heavens,
remarked: "Dust, by Jingo!" and swung himself up into the rumble.
"All right behind?" sang out the Driver, over his shoulder.
"Then--let 'em go!" cried the Driver. Whereupon the ostlers
jumped nimbly back, the horses threw up their heads, and danced
undecidedly for a moment, the long whip cracked, hoofs clattered,
sparks flew, and, rumbling and creaking, off went the London Mail
with such a flourish of the horn as woke many a sleepy echo, near
and far. As I turned away, I noticed that there remained but
three outside passengers; the pale-faced man had evidently
alighted, yet, although I glanced round for him, he was nowhere
to be seen.
Hereupon, being in no mind to undergo the operation of having my
eye filled up, and, moreover, finding myself thirsty, I stepped
into the "Tap." And there, sure enough, was the Outside Passenger
staring moodily out of the window, and with an untouched mug of
ale at his elbow. Opposite him sat an old man in a smock frock,
who leaned upon a holly-stick, talking to a very short, fat man
behind the bar, who took my twopence with a smile, smiled as he
drew my ale, and, smiling, watched me drink.
"Be you from Lunnon, sir?" inquired the old man, eyeing me
beneath his hoary brows as I set down my tankard.
"Ah well, I once knowed a man as spoke to the Lord Mayor o'
Lunnon's coachman--but 'e's dead, took the smallpox the year
arterwards an' died, 'e did."
At this juncture the door was thrown noisily open, and two
gentlemen entered. The first was a very tall man with black hair
that curled beneath his hat-brim, and so luxuriant a growth of
whisker that it left little of his florid countenance exposed.
The second was more slightly built, with a pale, hairless face,
wherein were set two small, very bright eyes, rather close
together, separated by a high, thin nose with nostrils that worked
and quivered when he spoke, a face whose most potent feature was
the mouth, coarse and red, with a somewhat protuberant under lip,
yet supported by a square, determined chin below--a sensual mouth
with more than a suspicion of cruelty lurking in its full curves,
and the big teeth which gleamed white and serrated when he
laughed. Indeed, the whole aspect of the man filled me with an
instinctive disgust.
They were dressed in that mixture of ultra-fashionable and horsey
styles peculiar to the "Corinthian," or "Buck" of the period, and
there was in their air an overbearing yet lazy insolence towards
all and sundry that greatly annoyed me.
"Fifteen thousand a year, by gad!" exclaimed the taller of the two,
giving a supercilious sniff to the brandy he had just poured out.
"Yes, ha! ha!--and a damnably pretty filly into the bargain!"
"You always were so infernally lucky!" retorted the first.
"Call it rather the reward of virtue," answered his companion
with a laugh that showed his big, white teeth.
"And what of Beverley--poor dey-vil?" inquired the first.
"Beverley!" repeated the other; "had he possessed any spirit he
would have blown his brains out, like a gentleman; as it was, he
preferred merely to disappear," and herewith the speaker shrugged
his shoulders, and drank off his glass with infinite relish and
gusto.
"Oh, I believe you! Country bred, but devilish well-blooded--trust
Beverley for that."
"Egad, yes--Beverley had a true eye for beauty or breed, poor
dey-vil!" This expression of pity seemed to afford each of them
much subtle enjoyment. "Harking back to this--filly," said the
big man, checking his merriment, "how if she jibs, and cuts up
rough, kicks over the traces--devilish awkward, eh?"
His companion raised his foot and rested it carelessly, upon the
settle near by, and upon the heel of his slim riding-boot I saw a
particularly cruel-looking, long-necked spur.
"My dear Mostyn," said he, his nostrils working, "for such an
emergency there is nothing like a pair of good sharp 'persuaders,'"
here he tapped the spur lightly with the slender gold-mounted cane
he carried; "and I rather fancy I know just how and when to use
'em, Mostyn." And once again I saw the gleam of his big, white
teeth.
All this I heard as they lolled within a yard of me, manifesting
a lofty and contemptuous disregard for all save themselves,
waited upon most deferentially by the smiling fat fellow, and
stared at by the aged man with as much admiring awe as if they
had each been nothing less than a lord mayor of London at the
very least. But now they leaned their heads together and spoke
in lowered tones, but something in the leering eyes of the one,
and the smiling lips of the other, told me that it was not of
horses that they spoke.
"... Bring her to reason, by gad!" said the slighter of the two,
setting down his empty glass with a bang, "oh, trust me to know
their pretty, skittish ways, trust me to manage 'em; I've never
failed yet, by gad!"
"Curse me, that's true enough!" said the other, and here they
sank their voices again.
My ale being finished, I took up my staff, a heavy, knotted
affair, and turned to go. Now, as I did so, my foot, by
accident, came in contact with the gold-mounted cane I have
mentioned, and sent it clattering to the floor. I was on the
point of stooping for it, when a rough hand gripped my shoulder
from behind, twisting me savagely about, and I thus found myself
staring upon two rows of sharp, white teeth.
"Pick it up!" said he, motioning imperiously to the cane on the
floor between us.
"Heaven forbid, sir," said I; "'is thy servant a dog that he
should do this thing?'"
"I told you to pick it up," he repeated, thrusting his head
towards me; "are you going to do so, or must I make you?" and
his nostrils worked more than ever.
For answer I raised my foot and sent the cane spinning across the
room. Somebody laughed, and next moment my hat was knocked from
my head. Before he could strike again, however, I raised my
staff, but suddenly remembering its formidable weight, I altered
the direction of the blow, and thrust it strongly into the very
middle of his gayly flowered waistcoat. So strongly did I
thrust, indeed, that he would have fallen but for the timely
assistance of his companion.
"Come, come," said I, holding him off on the end of my staff, "be
calm now, and let us reason together like logical beings. I
knocked down your cane by accident, and you, my hat by intent;
very well then, be so good as to return me my property, from the
corner yonder, and we will call 'quits.'"
"No, by gad!" gasped my antagonist, bending almost double,
"wait--only wait until I get--my wind--I'll choke--the infernal
life out of you--only wait, by gad!"
"Willingly," said I, "but whatever else you do, you will
certainly reach me my hat, otherwise, just so soon as you find
yourself sufficiently recovered, I shall endeavor to throw you
after it." Saying which, I laid aside my staff, and buttoned up
my coat.
"Why," he began, "you infernally low, dusty, ditch-trotting
blackguard--" But his companion, who had been regarding me very
closely, twitched him by the sleeve, and whispered something in
his ear. Whatever it was it affected my antagonist strangely,
for he grew suddenly very red, and then very white, and abruptly
turned his back upon me.
"Well, I'd fight him were he the devil himself! Pistols perhaps
would be--"
"Don't be a fool, Harry," cried the other, and seizing his arm,
drew him farther away, and, though they lowered their voices, I
caught such fragments as "What of George?" "changes since your
time," "ruin your chances at the start," "dead shot."
Almost to my surprise, the taller of the two crossed the room,
followed by his friend, to whom he still spoke in lowered tones,
stooped, picked up my hat, and, while the other stood scowling,
approached, and handed it to me with a bow.
"That my friend, Sir Harry Mortimer, lost his temper, is regretted
both by him and myself," said he, "but is readily explained by the
fact that he has been a long time from London, while I labored
under a--a disadvantage, sir--until your hat was off."
Now, as he spoke, his left eyelid flickered twice in rapid
succession.
"I beg you won't mention it," said I, putting on my hat; "but,
sir, why do you wink at me?"
"No, no," cried he, laughing and shaking his head, "ha! ha!
--deyvilish good! By the way, they tell me George himself is
in these parts--incog. of course--"
"Cursed rich, on my life and soul!" cried the tall gentleman,
shaking his head and laughing again. "Mum's the word, of course,
and I swear a shaven face becomes you most deyvilishly!"
"Perhaps you will be so obliging as to tell me what you mean?"
said I, frowning.
"Oh, by gad!" he cried, fairly hugging himself with delight.
"Oh, the devil! this is too rich--too infernally rich, on my life
and soul it is!"
Now all at once there recurred to me the memory of Tom Cragg,
the Pugilist; of how he too had winked at me, and of his
incomprehensible manner afterwards beneath the gibbet on River
Hill.
"Sir," said I, "do you happen to know a pugilist, Tom Cragg by name?"
"Tom Cragg! well, I should think so; who doesn't, sir?"
"Because," I went on, "he too seems to labor under the delusion
that he is acquainted with me, and--"
"Acquainted!" repeated the tall gentleman, "acquainted! Oh, gad!"
and immediately hugged himself in another ecstasy.
"If," said I, "you will have the goodness to tell me for
whom you evidently mistake me--"
"Mistake you!" he gasped, throwing himself upon the settle and
rocking to and fro, "ha! ha!--mistake you!"
Seeing I did but waste my breath, I turned upon my heel, and made
for the door. As I went, my eye, by chance, lighted upon a
cheese that stood at the fat landlord's elbow, and upon which he
cast amorous glances from time to time.
"It is, sir, if I might make so bold, a noble cheese!" he
rejoined, and laid his hand upon it with a touch that was a
caress.
"Then I will take three pennyworth of your noble cheese," said I.
"Cheese!" faintly echoed the gentleman upon the settle, "three
pennyworth. Oh, I shall die, positively I shall burst!"
"Also a loaf," said I. And when the landlord had cut the cheese
with great nicety--a generous portion--and had wrapped it into a
parcel, I put it, together with the loaf, into my knapsack, and
giving him "Good day!" strode to the door. As I reached it, the
tall gentleman rose from the settle, and bowed.
"George!" said I shortly; "to the devil with George!"
Now I could not help being struck by the effect of my words, for
Sir Harry let fall his cane, and stared open-mouthed, while his
companion regarded me with an expression between a frown and
wide-eyed dismay.
"Now I wonder," said I to myself as I descended the steps, "I
wonder who George can be?"
Before the inn there stood a yellow-wheeled stanhope with a horse
which, from his manner of trembling all over for no conceivable
reason, and manifest desire to stand upon his hind legs, I
conceived to be a thorough-bred; and, hanging grimly to the bridle,
now in the air, now on terra firma, alternately coaxing and cursing,
was my friend the Semi-quavering Ostler. He caught sight of me
just as a particularly vicious jerk swung him off his legs.
"Damn your liver!" he cried to the horse, and then, to me: "If
you'll jest call Joe to 'old this 'ere black varmin for me, I'll
--fill yer--eye up."
"Thanks," said I, "but I much prefer to keep it as it is; really
there is no need to trouble Joe, and as for you, I wish you good
morning!"
And when I had gone a little way, chancing to glance back over my
shoulder, I saw that the Outside Passenger stood upon the inn
steps, and was staring after me.