CHAPTER V.
“Thou ever strong upon the strongest side”
Although many were the anxious consultations, and deep plottings, among the belligerent parties within doors, during the fore part of the memorable 13th of March, yet it was not till the afternoon of that day had considerably advanced, that any indications of the events which followed became observable in the streets of Westminster. About this time, one of the doors of Crean Brush's guest-filled mansion suddenly flew open, and the crouched and cringing form of our humble friend Barty Burt, hotly pursued by his recent employer with uplifted cane, was seen coming down the steps of the entrance, in flying leaps, to the ground.
“There, you infernal booby! please consider this caning and kicking as a farewell to my house and employ forever!” exclaimed the enraged master, standing in the door-way, and looking down with ineffable scorn upon the prostrate person of the ejected Bart, as he lay sprawled out upon the spot where he landed, without manifesting any disposition to rise.
“I should like to know what I've done criminal, squire?” responded the latter, looking back over his shoulder at the other, with a doleful grimace.
“What have you done?” sharply retorted Brush. “Why, you impertinent puppy, you have done every thing wrong, and nothing right, ever since you got your lubberly carcass out of bed, at the fine time of eight o'clock this morning! and now, to crown all, in clearing off the table, you must go, with your load of meats and half-filled gravy dishes, through the parlor, where you had no business to go, and there, like a blundering jackass, as you are, you must fall down and ruin the best carpet in the house! I've had quite enough of you, sir: so up with you there and clear out, you vagabond!”
“Well, I'spose I know what you want,” muttered Bart, by way of reply to this tirade—“you want to accuse, and drive me away, so you won't have to pay me the two crowns you owe me for work, and other things.”
“I don't owe you half that sum, you lying lout,” returned Brush, fiercely. “But to get rid of such a pest, and prevent your going round town with that lie in your mouth, I'll give you all you ask; and there they are!” he continued, pulling out and disdainfully tossing the coins down at the other's feet. “Your dirty rags, if you have any in the house, shall be thrown out to you; and then, if you aint off, I'll set the dogs on ye.”
With this, and an expressive slam of the door behind him, the secretary returned into the house; and in a few moments, the sash of a garret window was thrown up, and a pair of shoes, a pair of old summer pantaloons, a spare coarse shirt, and pair of stockings, were successively flung down into the yard, near where the owner was still lying, by the hand of a grinning and blushing servant maid, while her dainty-fingered master stood by, directing the operation,
“Well, Bart,” now soon began to mutter this singular being, in his usual manner of addressing himself as a second person, when alone—“well, Bart, your plan of getting driv away has worked to a shaving. You've got your pay, too, jest in the way you calculated would fetch it; yes, all your honest pay, and one crown more; but you charged that, you know, when you told him two crowns, as damage for the kick and cane lick you got. So that's settled. And as to the other accounts against him, and the rest of 'em there, you'll be in a way to square all, fore long, guess; for you will be your own rebel, now, Bart, you know.”