Tom Moore Part 68

"Promise that once in a while you will write me how fortune treats you if you go to Bermuda."

"Every month," answered the girl, her eyes bright with the grat.i.tude which filled her heart. "G.o.d bless you, sir."

"Good night," said his lords.h.i.+p again, and stepped out in the hall.

Sheridan kissed Bessie's hand, and purposely lingered over it so long that Moore shook his fist at him.

"Easy there, Sherry, easy there."

"Selfish man!" murmured Sheridan, as he followed Brooking. "Good night, Mistress d.y.k.e."

Brummell bade good night to his hostess and joined the others in their descent as Moore, after making a feint of putting a kiss upon Bessie's hand, at the last moment transferred it to her smiling lips.

"You won't be longer than is necessary, will you, Tom?"

"I 'll not be half that long," said he, running after his guests, who were now well on their way down the first flight of stairs.

Bessie turned from the door with a rapturous sigh, only to receive a reproachful glance from Buster, who was sternly regarding her.

"Wot 'll become hof my morals hif these hindearments continyers?"

thought the lad, vaguely jealous. "Hit's henuff to turn one hagin mater-ri-mony, that's wot hit his. Hi thinks Hi 'll jine a monkery."

"To Bessie," murmured the girl, kissing the poem as she drew it from her breast, little suspecting Buster's doubtful frame of mind. "Buster, you may clear away the tea-things after you have had your supper. I must go down and tell Mrs. Malone the good news."

"Well, hif she harsks arfter me, say Montgomery Julien Hethelbert sends 'is luv," said the boy, more cheerfully.

"_Montgomery Julien Ethelbert_," said the girl, opening the door.

When she had closed it behind her, Buster addressed himself disgustedly to his pal, Lord Castlereagh.

"Montgomery Julien Hethelbert," he repeated in high disdain. "Hain't that an 'ell of a nime for a sporting cove like me?"

"Wuff!" barked the dog, in sympathy.

_Chapter Twenty-Five_

_SIR INCOGNITO RECEIVES A WARM WELCOME_

The gentleman whose attentions to Jane Sweeny were causing so much excitement in the neighborhood favored by her residence, little suspecting that a warm welcome was there in preparation for him, let himself quietly out of a little private door in the rear of his great mansion and turned his steps cheerfully towards their rendezvous. He seemed to be in fine spirits, for once or twice he checked a whistle as it was about to escape from the lips he had unconsciously pursed as he strode quickly along.

It seemed to be his wish to avoid recognition, for he kept his face hidden as much as was rendered possible by his up-turned cloak collar and wide, drawn-down hat brim, though this desire upon his part seemed to grow less imperative as he left the fas.h.i.+onable locality in which he lived, and turning down a side street, followed a course that twisted and turned from poor neighborhood to even poorer, then on till the respectability of the locality was once more on the increase until he found himself on a shabby street not far from the one on which the establishment of Mrs. Malone was situated. The spot at which he had arranged to meet Sweeny's daughter was now near at hand. The gentleman, who was tall and well shaped, though slightly inclined to corpulence, strolled leisurely along the street, evidently confident that his charmer would not fail to be on hand promptly at their trysting place, but much to his surprise, when he arrived there was no one waiting for him. He paused, gave an exclamation of disappointment, and, drawing out his watch, stepped nearer the street lamp that he might see if he had antic.i.p.ated the time appointed for his arrival. The timepiece a.s.sured him that he was several minutes behind the chosen hour, and after swearing softly to himself, he pocketed it and turned, intending to stroll leisurely up and down the street until the tardy damsel should put in an appearance.

At this moment a stalwart youth, with eyes set widely apart and the jaw of a pugilist, walked softly across from the opposite side. So noiseless was his tread that the first comer did not discover his proximity until he had approached within a yard or two.

"H'are yer witing for some 'un?" demanded the unprepossessing youth, whose name it is almost a needless formality to announce was Isaac.

"What is that to you, sir?" replied the gentleman, haughtily, contemptuously regarding his questioner.

"W'y, sir, Jine harsked me--"

"Oh, Jane sent you then?"

"Ha!" cried the younger man, triumphantly. "Hi wuz sure yer wuz the cove. There hain't no doubt habout it now."

"Perhaps you will be kind enough to inform me as to the reason for this sudden ebullition of delight?" said the gentleman, puzzled by the youth's behavior, and, if not alarmed, not exactly at ease as to the probable developments of the immediate future.

If his eyes had been a trifle more used to the semi-darkness of the street, particularly at the places midway between the flickering lanterns, on whose incompetent illumination depended the lighting of the great city after nightfall, the elegant stranger would have perceived that his interrogator was not alone. Several little groups had emerged from convenient doorways and cellars, and, cl.u.s.tered in the denser shadows for temporary concealment, awaited a prearranged signal to advance. These sinister-looking individuals were armed with weapons still more sinister,--knotty cudgels, heavy canes, in one instance an axe handle and in another a spade, new and unsullied as yet by labor.

"Ho, Hi 'll be kind henuff, don't 'ee fear," sneered Isaac, and with a quick movement he s.n.a.t.c.hed his felt hat from his bullet head and slapped it viciously across the face of his companion.

Immediately he received a blow on the chin straight from the shoulder of the insulted gallant, which dropped him, an inert bundle of clothing, in the filth of the gutter.

"Down with the swell!" yelled an enthusiastic lad, armed with an empty quart bottle, as the crowd surged forward from both sides, scattering across the street to cut off all chance of their game's escape.

The object of their hostile intentions threw a hurried glance around him and, realizing the futility of attempting to break through the ranks of his enemies, gave an exclamation of despair. Escape seemed impossible, yet surrender was not to be thought of, for the fate in store for him at their hands was only too plainly evidenced by their demeanor. Turning, he ran up the steps of the house immediately behind him and tried the door. It was locked and made of material far too tough and seasoned to yield to the impact of his weight, as he found when he had hurled himself with crus.h.i.+ng force against it.

Meanwhile the mob had almost reached the steps which at their highest point attained an alt.i.tude of about eight feet. If he ran down to the street it would be only to rush into their clutches; unarmed as he was he could not long successfully defend the stairs; then what could he do?

"Watch!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Watch! Watch to the rescue! Murder! Watch! Help!"

The united force of his pursuers halted in front of the house where he had vainly endeavored to secure an entrance. The game was trapped and their plan had met with success quite unqualified, unless the insensibility resulting from the tremendous punch which Isaac's jaw had received from the gentleman now at bay at the top of the steps could be regarded in the light of a serious reverse. The disposition of the still unconscious youth's companions seemed to be to regard his misfortune in the light of a joke, though their obvious intention was to add this example of the strange gallant's prowess to the total of the score for which they expected to secure settlement in full without further delay.

"'Ee 's an 'ansome pusson, hain't 'ee?" remarked one facetious individual in the front rank of the crowd a.s.sembled at the bottom step.

"A blooming Prince Charmin'," a.s.sented a heavy-browed ruffian, resting his great cudgel on the railing. "Oh, but he are n't a circ.u.mstance to what he will look when we have altered his countenance a bit."

"It stroikes me the spalpeen has been powdering his mug," growled Sweeny, his little eyes blazing with a ferocious light. His lips, damp and red, were wolf-like as his tusk-shaped and scattered teeth bit deep into them in his rage. "He 's pale loike."

"Watch! Watch!"

"Call, sorr, call. It's no good the watch will do yez this noight. Ye 'll git a bating now that ye will carry the marks of to your dying day."

"I 'd rather be excused, sir," replied the gentleman, coolly. "Unless I mistake, I have not the honor of your acquaintance."

"I 'm Sweeny, Jane's father."

"Indeed? How do you do, Mr. Sweeny?" politely inquired the girl's admirer.

"I 'll be better when I 've pounded you to a pulp," growled the old Irishman, taking a new and firmer grip on the club he held.

"Then why delay, friends? Let us have it over with at once," suggested the hunted gentleman, smiling as pleasantly as though he were inviting divers acquaintances to partake of biscuits and tea.

"Bli' me, hif 'ee ain't a well-plucked cove," said the lad with the bottle.