Jack Sheppard Part 17

"Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood.

"Not a syllable!" answered the carpenter, angrily. "Get about your business!"

"Thames!" cried Jack, beckoning to his friend.

But Darrell averted his head.

"Mistress!" said the apprentice, making a final appeal to Mrs. Wood.

"Leave the room instantly, sirrah!" rejoined the lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek that made his eyes flash fire.

"May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollen-draper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!"

"Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr. Smith," observed Wood.

"That's an incorrigible rascal," he added, as Sheppard closed the door; "it's only to-day that I discovered--"

"What?" asked Jackson, p.r.i.c.king up his ears.

"Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames.

"If _I_ were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach _you_ not to speak till you were spoken to."

Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him.

"The rebuke is just," said the carpenter; "at the same time, I'm not sorry to find you're a friend to fair play, which, as you seem to know, is a jewel. Open that bottle with a blue seal, my dear. Gentlemen! a gla.s.s of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal."

This proposal giving general satisfaction, the bottle circulated swiftly; and Smith found the liquor so much to his taste, that he made it pay double toll on its pa.s.sage.

"Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone.

"He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter.

"How, Sir?"

"Except by adoption. Thames Darrell is--"

"My husband nicknames him Thames," interrupted Mrs. Wood, "because he found him in the river!--ha! ha!"

"Ha! ha!" echoed Smith, taking another b.u.mper of brandy; "he'll set the Thames on fire one of these days, I'll warrant him!"

"That's more than you'll ever do, you drunken fool!" growled Jackson, in an under tone: "be cautious, or you'll spoil all!"

"Suppose we send for a bowl of punch," said Kneebone.

"With all my heart!" replied Wood. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone.

Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. The tables were then cleared. Bottles and gla.s.ses usurped the place of dishes and plates. Pipes were lighted; and Mr.

Kneebone began to dispense the fragrant fluid; begging Mrs. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George--a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud.

"The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper.

"You don't say so!" replied Mrs. Wood, delighted at the idea.

Mr. Kneebone a.s.sured her that he _did_ say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table.

Mr. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following

DRINKING SONG.

I.

Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their l.u.s.tre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry.

II.

Jolly nose! he who sees thee across a broad gla.s.s Beholds thee in all thy perfection; And to the pale snout of a temperate a.s.s Entertains the profoundest objection.

III.

For a big-bellied gla.s.s is the palette I use, And the choicest of wine is my colour; And I find that my nose takes the mellowest hues The fuller I fill it--the fuller!

IV.

Jolly nose! there are fools who say drink hurts the sight; Such dullards know nothing about it.

'T is better, with wine, to extinguish the light, Than live always, in darkness, without it!

"How long may it be since that boy was found in the way Mrs. Wood mentions?" inquired Jackson, as soon as the clatter that succeeded Mr.

Smith's melody had subsided.

"Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November."

"Why, that must be about the time of the Great Storm," rejoined Jackson.

"Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow.

It _was_ on the night of the Great Storm that I found him."

"I should like to hear all particulars of the affair," said Jackson, "if it wouldn't be troubling you too much."

Mr. Wood required little pressing. He took a sip of punch and commenced his relation. Though meant to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed to excite the risible propensities rather than the commiseration of his auditor; and when Mr. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment.

"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really--ha! ha!--you must excuse me!--that is so uncommonly diverting--ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?--ha! ha! ha!"

"Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes."

"To be sure! Nothing entertains me so much. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others--never at their own! The droll dogs! how _they_ must have enjoyed it!--ha! ha!"

"I dare say they did. But _I_ found it no laughing matter, I can a.s.sure you. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever."