“Can I?” asked the person thus addressed, when he was suddenly cut short by old Jerry.
“Nay, nay, now!—I shall appeal to the company,—I never asked you; so don't go to say I did. Can you insure me four brace of birds and a few good tench by to-morrow morning? 'Cause if you think you can, the sooner you set about it, the sooner we shall get rid of you.”
“Well, I 'll try, Jerry, if you want 'em particular.”
“Particular or not particular, what's that to you? I give you an order, and that, you'll admit, is the full extent of your business. Have you been up to them woods close to the house since t'other night?” he inquired; and, on being answered in the negative, thus continued,—“Then go to-night; for I 've spread a report that 'll draw most of them that you have to fear down into the valley; and there's plenty of time for you to go, and to get home again before they find out the mistake.”
I need scarcely remind the reader that every part of this conversation which related to the sports of the field, was carried on in a tone of voice scarcely audible even half across the room, and also that the door had been effectually secured, and the candles removed, some minutes before the bell in Bramleigh tower struck twelve. For the accommodation, however, of those who might have business to transact abroad after that hour, there was a private outlet, known only to those in whom confidence could be placed, at the back of the premises. By this door Mr. Shaw now left, chanting, rather than singing, to himself as he left the room,
“We 'll hunt his game
Through field and brake;
His ponds we 'll net,
His fish we 'll take;
His woods we 'll scour
In nutting time;
And his mushrooms gather
At morning prime;
Since Nature gave—deny't who can—
These things in common to ev'ry man.”
“Ay, ay,” remarked old Jerry, as the man departed, “if every man understood his trade as well as David does, there would be a good deal more sport by night, and less by light, than there is: but every dog to his varmint; he knows all the beasts of forest, beasts of chase, beasts and fowls of warren, and the laws of them, as well as the best sportsman in England that ever was, is, or will be.”
“But I 'll tell thee what he don't know,” remarked the same individual who, prior to Mr. Clink's appearance, had given a brief sketch of the last-named gentleman's previous career; “he don't know, any more nor some o' the rest of us, whether or no there's any relations of yours living up in this quarter?”
“Why, as to that,” replied Jerry, “if he 'd wanted to be informed whether I had any relations here, and I had been in his company at the time, I could have stated this here. My youngest daughter Anne, was sent for by Mrs. Longstaff, wife to Squire Lupton's steward, considerably above twelve months ago, to eddi-cate her children, and, to the best of my knowledge, she's there yet. There is but one action of my life that gives me anything like satisfaction to reflect on, and that is, I spared neither expense nor trouble, when I had the means in my power, to fit my children for something better in the world than I myself was born to. And well it was I did so; or else, as things have come to this, and I'm not quite so rich as I once was, I can't say what might have become of them. What, wasn't it So-crates, the heathen philosopher, that considered learning the best portion a man could bestow on his children?”
“I don't know, I'm sure,” replied the other, “what he considered; but if that's your daughter, and you don't know what's become of her, I can tell you she isn't at Mrs. Longstaff's now. Well, you may put your pipe down, and look at me as hard as you like, but it will not alter the truth. I believe she's under this roof, in that back-room there, with Mrs. Mallory, at this very minute.”