"It is no use to resist, my boy," whispered Mordaunt to his friend, who was literally foaming at the mouth. "But we will find another occasion to punish these cowardly fellows," he added aloud, casting fiery glances upon the lawyer and Frank Curtis.
"Be Jasus! and I'll have some of it out of 'em now!" ejaculated Captain O'Blunderbuss; and springing upon the unfortunate Frank, he administered to this young gentleman three or four hearty cuffs, before a hand could be stretched out to withhold him.
Curtis roared and wriggled about with the pain; but he was speedily released from the effects of this onslaught, Mac Grab, Proggs, and the lawyer, hastening to his assistance.
The warlike Captain was then borne away to the hackney-coach, in which he was safely deposited, Mordaunt obtaining leave from Mr. Howard to accompany his friend in the same vehicle as far as the prison to which he was to be consigned.
Frank Curtis declined forming one of the party; and while the coach proceeded in as direct a line as possible for Horsemonger Lane gaol, the young gentleman sped merrily along alone and on foot, delighted, in spite of the drubbing which he had received, to think that the redoubtable Captain O'Blunderbuss was on his way to a place where his warlike propensities stood every chance of being "cribb'd, cabin'd, and confin'd," at least for a season.
You may conceive, gentle reader, that Captain O'Blunderbuss was in a dreadful rage at being interrupted in the midst of his favourite pursuit—especially as the interruption was of so unpleasant a nature as that described. But his vapouring and blustering produced little effect upon Messrs. Mac Grab and Proggs, who never spoke a word during the journey from Battersea Fields to Horsemonger Lane, save to answer in an affirmative when Mr. Howard proposed that they should stop at a public-house for a few moments to partake of some refreshment; and then they each responded—"Yes—rum, please."
The Captain himself was accommodated with a glass of whiskey: Mordaunt and the lawyer took nothing.
The vehicle then proceeded, without stopping, to the prison, where the gallant Captain—oh! most ignominious fate!—was handed over to the care of the turnkeys in the debtors' department of the establishment.
CHAPTER LXIV.
OLD DEATH AND HIS FRIEND TIDMARSH.
The incident which occupied the preceding chapter occurred, as will probably be recollected, on the morning of the Wednesday after the Monday on which Thomas Rainford was hanged and resuscitated.