“They!” echoed the parson—“And who can they be?”
“That is a point yet to be ascertained, for the operation has been carried on in so delicate and refined a way, that none of our blacks know anything of the matter. It seems there was a cry of fire just now, and it took every one of the negroes into the street; during which time all our game has been put up, and has flown.”
“Bless me! bless me! what a calamity!—what a rascally theft! Did you not mark it down?”
“No sir, I am sorry to say we have not; nor do we apply such hard names to a frolic, even when we lose our supper by it. It is the act of some of our associates and friends, who hope to feast at our expense to-night; and who will, gentlemen, unless you will consent to aid us in recovering our lost dishes.”
“Aid you, my dear sir—I will do any thing you can wish—what will you have me attempt! Shall I go to the fort, and ask for succour from the army?”
“No, sir; our object can be effected short of t'at. I am quite certain we can find what we want, only two or three doors from this, if you will consent to lend us a little, a very little of your assistance.”
“Name it—name it, at once, for Heaven's sake, Mr. Guert. The dishes must be getting cold, all this time,” cried Mr. Worden, jumping up with alacrity, and looking about him, for his hat and cloak.
“The service we ask of you, gentlemen, is just this,” rejoined Guert, with a coolness that, when I came to reflect on the events of that night, has always struck me as singularly astonishing. “Our supper, and an excellent one it is, is close at hand, as I have said. Nothing will be easier than to get it on our own table, in the next room, could we only manage to call old Doortje off duty, and detain her for five minutes at the area gate of her house. She knows every one of us, and would smell a rat in a minute, did we show ourselves; but Mr. Worden and Mr. Littlepage, here, might amuse her for the necessary time, without any trouble. She is remarkably fond of Dominies, and would not be able to trace you back to this house, leaving us to eat the supper in peace. After t'at, no one cares for the rest.”
“I'll do it!—I'll do it!” cried Mr. Worden, hurrying into the passage, in quest of his hat and cloak. “It is no more than just that you should have your own, and the supper will be either eaten, or overdone, should we go for constables.”
“No fear of constables, Mr. Worden, we never employ them in our poultry wars. All we, who will get the supper back again, can expect, will be merely a little hot water, or a skirmish with our friends.”