“Now there,” said the constable, warming to him, “you are in the right of it, sir! You might truss up Mr. Moffat’s wit in an eggshell. Not but what this young varmint has gone for to commit a felony, no question. I’ll have to take him up to Mr. Oare’s place this morning, him being a magistrate, and Mr. Stalybridge laying a charge against him, as he is entitled to do.”
The Duke perceived that since Tom had not yet been haled before the magistrate his task must be to induce Mr. Stalybridge to withdraw the charge against him. He said: “Where did all this happen?”
“It were last night, just after dusk,” said the constable. “A matter of a mile outside the town on the road to Stevenage. There was Mr. Stalybridge, a-riding in his carriage, with his man sitting up beside the coachman, him having been on a visit, you see, when up jumps this young varmint of yours out of nowhere, on a horse which he hires from Jem Datchet—which I am bound to say he paid Jem for honest, else Jem would never have let him take the nag, him being one of them as lives in a gravel-pit, as the saying is. And he ups and shouts out, Stand and deliver! quite to the manner born, and looses off this pop of his, which fair scorches the ear off Mr. Stalybridge’s coachman, according to what he tells me. Well, not to wrap it up in clean linen, sir, Mr. Stalybridge was scared for his life, and he had out his purse, and his gold watch, and all manner of gewgaws for to hand over to the young varmint, when his man, which is not one as has more hair than wit, slips off of the box when no one ain’t heeding him, and has your young varmint off of Jem Datchet’s nag just as he’s about to take Mr. Stalybridge’s purse. I will say the lad is a proper fighter, for he put in a deal of cross-and-jostle work, but betwixt the lot of them they had him over-powered, and brought him in here, and give him over to me, as is proper. Ah, and he had both his daylights darkened, but Mr. Stalybridge’s man he had had his cork drawn, so that it was wunnerful to see how the claret did flow! And once he found himself under lock and key, would he open his mummer? Not he! Downright sullen, that’s what he be now, and won’t give his name, nor where he lives, nor nothing!”
“I daresay he is frightened,” said the Duke. “He is only fifteen, you know.”
“You don’t say!” marvelled the constable. “Well, I did use to think my own boys was well-growed lads, but if that don’t beat all!”
“I thought you had boys of your own,” said the Duke softly. “Full of mischief too, I daresay?”
He had struck the right note. The constable beamed upon him, and enunciated: “Four fine lads, sir, and everyone as lawless as the town bull!”
The Duke settled down to listen sympathetically for the next twenty minutes to an exact account of the prowess of the constable’s four sons, their splendid stature, their youthful pranks, and present excellence. The time was not wasted. When the recital ended the Duke had added an officer of the law to his circle of friends and well-wishers; and the constable had agreed to allow him to visit the prisoner.
The Duke then asked to see the pistol. The constable at once produced it, and the most cursory examination was enough to show the Duke that it had never been loaded, much less fired.
The constable looked very much taken aback by this. He admitted that he had not cared to meddle with such a gun, since it looked to him like one of them murdering duelling-pistols which went off if a man so much as breathed on them. “Well, it will not do so when it is unloaded,” said the Duke. “Take a look at it now!”