The Amateur Gentleman Part 22

"How many?"

"Two."

"Then--hum!--get into the ditch," said Barnabas.

Now the ditch, as has been said, was deep and dry, and next moment, the miserable fugitive was hidden from view by reason of this, and of the gra.s.ses and wild flowers that grew luxuriantly there; seeing which, Barnabas went back to his reading.

"It is permitted," solemnly writes the Person of Quality, "that white waistcoats be worn,--though sparingly, for caution is always advisable, and a buff waistcoat therefore is recommended as safer.

Coats, on the contrary, may occasionally vary both as to the height of the collar, which must, of course, roll, and the number of b.u.t.tons--"

Thus far the Person of Quality when:

"Hallo, theer" roared a stentorian voice.

"Breeches, on the other hand," continues the Person of Quality gravely, "are governed as inexorably as the Medes and Persians; thus, for mornings they must be either pantaloons and Hessians--"

"Hallo theer! oho!--hi!--waken oop will 'ee!"

"Or buckskins and top boots--"

"Hi!" roared the voice, louder than ever, "you theer under th' 'edge,--oho!"

Once more Barnabas marked the place with his finger, and glancing up, straightway espied Stentor, somewhat red-faced, as was but natural, clad in a velveteen jacket and with a long barrelled gun on his shoulder.

"Might you be shouting at me?" inquired Barnabas.

"Well," replied Stentor, looking up and down the lane, "I don't see n.o.body else to shout at, so let's s'pose as I be shouting at ye, bean't deaf, be ye?"

"No, thank G.o.d."

"'Cause if so be as y' are deaf, a can shout a tidy bit louder nor that a reckon."

"I can hear you very well as it is."

"Don't go for to be too sartin, now; ye see I've got a tidy voice, I have, which I aren't noways afeared o' usin'!"

"So it would appear!" nodded Barnabas.

"You're quite sure as ye can 'ear me, then?"

"Quite."

"Werry good then, if you are sure as you can 'ear me I'd like to ax 'ee a question, though, mark me, I'll shout it, ah! an' willin'; if so be you're minded, say the word!"

But, before Barnabas could reply, another man appeared, being also clad in velveteens and carrying a long barrelled gun.

"Wot be doin', Jarge?" he inquired of Stentor, in a surly tone, "wot be wastin' time for"

"W'y, lookee, I be about to ax this 'ere deaf chap a question, though ready, ah! an' willin' to shout it, if so be 'e gives the word."

"Stow yer gab, Jarge," retorted Surly, more surly than ever, "you be a sight too fond o' usin' that theer voice o' your'n!" saying which he turned to Barnabas:

"Did ye see ever a desprit, poachin' wagabone run down this 'ere lane, sir?" he inquired.

"No," answered Barnabas.

"Well, did ye see ever a thievin' wastrel run oop this 'ere lane?"

demanded Stentor.

"No," answered Barnabas.

"But we seen 'im run this way," demurred Surly.

"Ah!--he must ha' run oop or down this 'ere lane," said Stentor.

"He did neither," said Barnabas.

"Why, then p'r'aps you be stone blind as well as stone deaf?"

suggested Stentor.

"Neither one nor the other," answered Barnabas, "and now, since I have answered all your questions, suppose you go and look somewhere else?"

"Look, is it?--look wheer--d'ye mean--?"

"I mean--go."

"Go!" repeated Stentor, round of eye, "then s'pose you tell us--wheer!"

"Anywhere you like, only--be off!"

"Now you can claw me!" exclaimed Stentor with an injured air, nodding to his gun, seeing his companion had already hurried off, "you can grab and duck me if this don't beat all!--you can burn an'

blister me if ever I met a deaf cove as was so ongrateful as this 'ere deaf cove,--me 'avin' used this yer v'ice o' mine for 'is be'oof an' likewise benefit; v'ices like mine is a gift as was bestowed for deaf 'uns like 'im;--I've met deaf 'uns afore, yes,--but such a ongrateful deaf 'un as 'im,--no. All I 'opes is as 'e gets deafer an' deafer, as deaf as a stock, as a stone, as a--dead sow,--that's all I 'opes!"

Having said which, Stentor nodded to his gun again, glanced at Barnabas again, and strode off, muttering, after his companion.

Hereupon Barnabas once more opened his book; yet he was quite aware that the fugitive had thrust his head out of the ditch, and having glanced swiftly about, was now regarding him out of the corners of his eyes.

"Why do you stare at me?" he demanded suddenly.

"I was wondering why you took the trouble and risk of s.h.i.+elding such a thing as I am," answered the fugitive.

"Hum!" said Barnabas, "upon my soul,--I don't know."

"No," said the man, with the ghostly smile upon his lips again, "I thought not."

Now, as he looked at the man, Barnabas saw that his cheeks, beneath their stubble, were hollow and pinched, as though by the cruel hands of want and suffering. And yet in despite of all this and of the grizzled hair at his temples, the face was not old, moreover there was a merry twinkle in the eye, and a humorous curve to the wide-lipped mouth that appealed to Barnabas.

"And you are a poacher, you say?"