“You low ruffian!” he said. “You cheated me last night, and left me to sleep in the fields; but my money came to me to-day, and I've been waiting for you. Take that, you scoundrel—and that—and that——”
He struck Jackson a blow to right and left, and then one straight on the forehead, which felled him to the ground. He gave the man a kick when he fell, and then turned about and ran, for the watchman was coming up the street, and half a dozen of the passers-by gave an alarm.
Goldsmith shouted out, “Follow him—follow the murderer!” pointing wildly in the direction taken by the stranger.
In another instant he was leaning over the prostrate man, and making a pretence to feel his heart. He tore open his waistcoat. Putting in his hand, he quickly abstracted the wallet, and bending right over the body in order to put his hand to the man's chest, he, with much more adroitness than was necessary—for outside the sickly gleam of the lamp all the street was in darkness—slipped the wallet into his other hand and then under his coat.
A few people had by this time been drawn to the spot by the alarm which had been given, and some inquired if the man were dead, and if he had been run through with a sword.
“It was a knock-down blow,” said Goldsmith, still leaning over the prostrate man; “and being a doctor, I can honestly say that no great harm has been done. The fellow is as drunk as if he had been soused in a beer barrel. A dash of water in his face will go far to bring about his recovery. Ah, he is recovering already.”
He had scarcely spoken before he felt himself thrown violently back, almost knocking down two of the bystanders, for the man had risen to a sitting posture, asking him, with an oath, as he flung him back, what he meant by choking him.
A roar of laughter came from the people in the street as Goldsmith picked up his hat and straightened his sword, saying—
“Gentlemen, I think that a man who is strong enough to treat his physician in that way has small need of his services. I thought the fellow might be seriously hurt, but I have changed my mind on that point recently; and so good-night. Souse him copiously with water should he relapse. By a casual savour of him I should say that he is not used to water.”
He re-entered the coach and told the driver to proceed to the Temple, and as rapidly as possible, for he was afraid that the man, on completely recovering from the effects of the blow that had stunned him, would miss his wallet and endeavour to overtake the coach. He was greatly relieved when he reached the lodge of his friend Ginger, the head porter, and he paid the driver with a liberality that called down upon him a torrent of thanks.