Harry Coverdale's Courtship, and All That Came of It

by Frank E. Smedley

On reaching the place Harry observed, by the light of the lantern, several dark spots, and a long mark on the soft ground, as though some person had slipped and nearly fallen, then deep footsteps led towards the outskirts of the wood. The moment the dog perceived the scent of blood all the savage instinct of its nature awoke, and, with a bound, which tested the strength of the leash, and nearly dislocated Coverdale’s shoulders, it sprang forward along the track of the fugitives. Five minutes’ painful toiling through bush and briar, brought them to the outskirts of the plantation, where they found the policeman waiting with the horses. Hastily springing to the saddle, Coverdale made Giles attach a small cord he had brought with him to the end of the leash, against which the bloodhound now strained impatiently; then twisting the other end round his own wrist, he was about to desire the under-keeper to return, when the patrol interfered by observing,—

“Better take Giles with us, sir!”

“Why so, policeman?” rejoined Coverdale, sharply; “we’re two to two, fresh men against tired ones; besides, you’re armed, and they’re not.”

“Jack’s got a gun with him, and is likely enough to use it now his steam’s up,” insinuated Giles, who by no means approved of losing his share in the expedition.

“And when we have nabbed ’em, I shall want help to convey ’em to H———— gaol,” pleaded the policeman. “I can take him up behind me.”

“As you will; only lose no more time,” was Coverdale’s reply; and cheering on the dog, he rode forward at a brisk trot.

The track led them through the Park, and then over hill and dale, ploughed field, and rough stubble, till it brought them out upon a wide bleak common, dotted here and there with patches of furze and broom, which showed dark and shadowy in the moonbeams, like plumes upon a hearse. Across the wildest and most tangled portion of the heath the dog led them, still straining at the leash, and uttering from time to time a suppressed whimper indicative of impatience. On the farther side of the common rose a steep bank, in one portion of which a deep hollow had been excavated for the purpose of obtaining gravel. As the dog approached this place, its eagerness became, if possible, stronger than before, until, at about thirty yards from the spot, it suddenly stopped, and again erecting the bristles on its back, uttered a deep growl. At the same moment, Coverdale, whose sight was remarkably keen, perceived a figure cautiously stealing away under cover of the bushes. Pointing him out to the policeman, whose horse was beginning to evince symptoms of distress under its double burden, Coverdale observed,—

“I can only see one man, but let us make sure of him. Get down Giles, and hold the dog. Now patrol, while I ride round that bush and head the fellow, do you go on and seize him; and if you want any assistance, I shall be ready to afford it.”

So saying, Coverdale rode forward to cut off the poacher’s retreat, while the policeman, putting spurs to his horse, and drawing his cutlass, dashed up to the fellow, and seized him by the collar.

Overawed by the gleaming weapon, and exhausted by his previous exertions, the unfortunate Jim Fags (alias Winkey) attempted no resistance; and the policeman availed himself of his pusillanimity to produce the handcuffs, and dextrously secure his prisoner. He was thus engaged when Coverdale, who was walking his horse quietly towards them, suddenly caught sight of what, at the first glance, appeared to him only the stump of a tree, but on closer inspection proved to be the figure of a man, crouching under the shadow of the gravel-pit, while, at the moment in which Coverdale first perceived him, he was taking a deliberate aim with a short gun at the unconscious patrol. For a moment the policeman’s life hung upon a thread; but a slight movement of the horse brought the unfortunate Winkey’s head into the line of fire, and his accomplice lowered his piece, and slightly altered his position, while he took fresh aim. The opportunity was not to be lost—quick as thought Coverdale rose in his stirrups, and with the full force of his muscular arm hurled the constable’s staff, which he had retained the whole evening, at the head of the kneeling figure. Fortunately for the policeman, the missile took effect, and, stunned by the force of the blow, Jack Hargrave (for he it was) measured his length upon the turf, discharging the gun harmlessly as he fell. Before he could regain his feet, Giles and the dog (who, but for his muzzle, would have torn the poacher to pieces) were upon him. In less than two hours from that time both the culprits were safely lodged in H———— gaol.