The Old Tobacco Shop Part 21

He restored the cutla.s.s to the Pract.i.tioner, who raised it high and gave a swinging slash downward with it, as if to test his eye and arm. The Pract.i.tioner then rolled his right s.h.i.+rt-sleeve up to his shoulder; he was the largest man in the party, and his arm was the arm of a blacksmith.

"Stop!" cried Mr. Punch. "One moment! Captain Lingo! You are a Henglishman, aren't you?"

"I am an Englishman," said the Captain, swelling out his chest. "Long live King James!"

"Hi am a Henglishman also," said Mr. Punch, swelling out _his_ chest.

"You carn't murder a fellow-countryman in cold blood, now can you? Hi s'y, you couldn't do that, you know. We're both subjects of her gracious Majesty, we are. Long live Queen Victoria!"

"Who?" said Captain Lingo.

"Queen Victoria!" cried Mr. Punch. "She'd never, never forgive you hif----"

"Never heard of her," said Captain Lingo calmly. "I'm a loyal subject of his Catholic Majesty King James the Second,--may all the saints defend him!"

"King James the Second!" cried Mr. Punch. "Why, 'e's been dead these two 'undred year, nearly! 'E's as dead as Christopher Columbus!"

Captain Lingo started violently, and his face became dark with anger.

"Dead? King James dead? Do you mark that, lads? He calls his blessed Majesty dead! Aha! thou renegade Englishman, thou hast imagined the death of the king! A felony, by St. George! And the punishment is death!

What, thou reprobate, dost thou not know 'tis a felony, punishable by death, to imagine the death of the King?"

"But 'e _is_ dead. One carn't live two 'undred years, you know."

"You hear!" said Captain Lingo, his voice quivering with rage. "He imagines the death of the King! Any judge in the kingdom would sentence him to die for that! 'Tis the law! But enough talk. Captain Lingo is not the man to stand by and see the law defied! For that, my pretty Englishman, thou shalt die the death twice over. There shall be violence in thy case. Thou shalt wish thou hadst never been born. Thou shalt be kept for the last. Ay, ay; there shall be fine sport at his taking off, eh, lads? Enough! Proceed with the ceremony. To imagine the death of the King! Ketch, art thou ready?"

"Ay, ay, Captain," said the Pract.i.tioner.

The captain cast his angry eye over the terrified group s.h.i.+vering in their damp garments. "One of you must be first. Who shall be first? Let me see." Each person quailed as the pirate's eye rested on him. "One moment. We will decide it by chance."

He plucked seven sprigs of gra.s.s, and broke them into varying lengths.

He then held them in his hand so that only the even ends showed. "Now choose," said he. "The longest blade shall be first."

Each drew a blade of gra.s.s, except Mr. Punch, who had already been reserved for the last. "Thou shalt be quartered alive," said the captain to him. "To dare imagine the death of the King!"

Freddie trembled as he drew his sprig of gra.s.s; but he did not draw the longest; the longest blade fell to Mr. Hanlon, and the next to Freddie.

Mr. Toby was third, the Churchwarden fourth, the Sly Old Codger fifth, Aunt Amanda sixth, and the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg seventh.

"We will use that fallen log," said the captain, and led the way towards it. He was now very stern; all his politeness had been dissipated by the offense of Mr. Punch.

"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, as they were moving towards the place of the ceremony, "I hope you will excuse me for all the cross words I have ever spoken to you."

"Oh, nonsense, Aunt Amanda," said Toby, sniffling a little, "I've been a trial enough, I know it. What will become of the shop?"

"Poor Freddie!" said Aunt Amanda. "It just breaks my heart to see him so brave. He's so young to have to--to--And his poor mother! Oh dear, oh dear!"

"Now then," said Captain Lingo, "you may sit down on the gra.s.s until your turns come."

Toby helped Aunt Amanda to sit down. Freddie sat beside her and pressed his white face against her shoulder. The others grouped themselves on the gra.s.s about them; all except Mr. Hanlon, who, knowing that his time had come, stepped forward and stood before Ketch the Pract.i.tioner, who was feeling the edge of his cutla.s.s.

One of the pirates produced from his pocket some strong twine, and bound Mr. Hanlon's arms behind him. On a sign from Captain Lingo, this man led Mr. Hanlon to the fallen log, and made him kneel beside it and rest his head face down upon it, so that there was a good view from above of the back of his neck.

The dreadful moment had arrived.

Ketch the Pract.i.tioner took his place by Mr. Hanlon's side, planted his feet firmly, wide apart, tucked in his right s.h.i.+rt-sleeve at the shoulder, and raised his gleaming cutla.s.s high above his head.

A scream from Aunt Amanda made him hesitate for an instant, but only for an instant; as Aunt Amanda and Freddie closed their eyes and buried their faces in their hands, the cutla.s.s flashed twice around the head of Ketch and came down with a swift and horrible slash straight upon the back of Mr. Hanlon's neck.

A single stroke was enough; Mr. Hanlon's head rolled off upon the ground.

"Well done, Ketch," said Captain Lingo, quietly. "I doubt if there's another hand on the Spanish Main could have done it."

Ketch blushed with honest pride at these gracious words. He swung his b.l.o.o.d.y cutla.s.s in embarra.s.sment. All the pirates turned towards the pale group on the gra.s.s, and Captain Lingo said, "Next!"

Freddie stood up. His knees began to tremble under him, and his heart was beating so fast that he could hardly breathe. Aunt Amanda flung her arms about him as he stood beside her, and cried "No, no, no!" in a voice of anguish.

All eyes were on the Little Boy, as he stood awaiting his dreadful fate, with Aunt Amanda's arms about him. His time had come. His friends were waiting to see if he would be brave, and though his face was white his courage did not fail him. He looked at them in farewell, and each one gave him a tearful gaze in return.

He turned his eyes towards the warm and friendly landscape, for a last look at the world he was about to leave. It would be hard to go, and he would need all his strength to bear the--A loud cry from Freddie startled all the others. "Look!" he cried, and pointed a shaking finger.

They looked, and what they saw was Mr. Hanlon.

By the log on which his head had been cut off, Mr. Hanlon was standing, his hands behind his back, and his head in its proper place on his shoulders. He was smiling and bowing, and as the astonished spectators gazed at him with their mouths open, he sprang lightly into the air and clicked his heels together as he came down.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mr. Hanlon was standing by the log on which his head had been cut off.]

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Toby in spite of himself. "Freddie, we've seen that little act before, haven't we?"

Freddie nodded. He remembered very well the first time he had seen Mr.

Hanlon's head cut off, at the Gaunt Street Theatre at home; he wondered that he had not thought of it before.

Captain Lingo was plainly very angry. His face turned a purple hue, and the scar across his mouth showed very white. He fingered his knife dangerously, and at the same time glared at Ketch, who was scratching his head in bewilderment. The captain did not raise his voice, but he spoke with deadly earnestness.

"A fine workman thou, friend Ketch," said he. "Truly a pretty hand with a cutla.s.s, thou son of a sea-cook. I've a mind to let a little of thy blood with this knife, thou scurvy knave. But I will give thee one more chance. If thou fail again, by St. George thou shalt die the death. Once more, now! And remember!"

It was Ketch's turn now to tremble. He knew very well that Captain Lingo would do as he had said, if he should fail a second time. His own life hung on a thread now.

"Ay, ay, Captain," he said huskily, and led Mr. Hanlon back to the fallen log and made him kneel as before.

As Mr. Hanlon's head lay across the log, he turned it round towards his friends, and gave them a long slow wink.

Ketch's cutla.s.s flashed as before. Round his head it swung twice, and down it came with a slas.h.i.+ng stroke straight and true on the back of Mr.

Hanlon's neck. Off rolled Mr. Hanlon's head upon the ground.

Everyone watched breathlessly; and Ketch did not breathe at all.

For a second Mr. Hanlon's body continued to kneel headless beside the log. Then the head on the ground popped like a flash to the neck it belonged to, and fastened itself accurately there in place. Ketch turned ghastly pale.

Mr. Hanlon sprang up, opened his mouth wide in a soundless laugh, bowed to Captain Lingo, jumped lightly into the air, and clicked his heels together three times as he came down.