"By goles!" quoth the landlord, reaching for the guinea.
"Allus know a genelman when I sees one!" said the man Tom, making a leg to me and knuckling shaggy eyebrow. So they suffered me to take the water to their prisoner, who drank avidly, his eyes upraised to mine in speechless gratitude.
"Don't believe 'em, brother," he whispered under cover of the talk where the others clustered around the hearth watching the preparations for the punch; "don't believe 'em, friend—I'm no murderer an' my pore old stricken mother on 'er knees for me this night, an' my sweet wife an' babbies weepin' their pretty eyes out, an' all for me. I'm a pore lame dog, brother, an' here's a stile as be 'ard to come over; howsomever, whether 'tis sweet wind an' open road for me by an' by, or Tyburn Tree—why God love ye for this, brother!"
Here he closed his eyes and bowed his head as one in prayer, for I saw his swollen lips moving painfully, then glancing up, beheld the man Jimmy watching us.
"Wot's Jerry a-sayin' of, sir?" he questioned.
"Praying, I believe."
"More like cursing. Jerry's a-flamming o' ye, young sir. An' the punch is ready at last." So while the storm raged outside, we sat down at the table beside the hearth where glasses were filled from a great bowl of steaming brew and forthwith emptied to my very good health. And now to the accompaniment of howling wind and lashing rain, the Bow Street officers recounted the history of Galloping Jerry's capture.
"'T were this evenin' as ever was just about dark, on the 'ill yonder. About 'arf way up there's a biggish tree, an' we was a-layin' for 'im there, Jimmy an' me, wi' our barkers ready, 'avin' been given the office. Presently we 'ears the sound o' hoofs an' down 'ill easy-like comes a mounted cove. It's 'im!' says I. 'Sure?' says Jimmy. 'Sartin,' says I, 'I knows 'im by 'is 'at!' 'Werry good!' says Jimmy, an' lets fly an' down comes the 'oss 'eadfirst, squealin' like a stuck pig, an' away down 'ill shoots Jerry, rollin' over an' over, an' then we was on 'im wi' our truncheons an' we give 'im wot for—eh, Jimmy?"
"Ar!" quoth Jimmy. "We did!"
"And a werry pretty little job it were—eh, Jimmy?"