_ Jack, drawing up by the side of the road, waited till Brinsmead again overtook him, and then jogged on as before quietly by his side.
"Well, Master Deane, I hope you have not been engaged in any idle conversation with the varlets you have fallen in with along the road," said the old man. "There are some good men and true among them, but not a few rogues too, depend on that. For my part, I think it's generally wiser to keep myself to myself, unless one meets a godly man who can discourse discreetly on spiritual matters."
Jack was afraid that his good old friend was about to commence one of his long discourses. He therefore, to put a stop to it, and feeling that it was right to do so, mentioned his encounter with the stranger, though he was compelled by his promise not to say he had met him before, or to repeat the main subject of his conversation. He could not help remarking the contrast between the expression of honest Brinsmead's countenance, as he jogged along on his steady old grey horse, and that of Master Pearson: the one free and open, with a kind smile generally playing over it, and the other strongly marked and coarse, with a cunning look in the eyes, and a constant tendency to a sneer on the lips.
"After all, I had better not trust that man," he said to himself. "His words are seemingly fair, but I don't altogether like him."
Brinsmead and Jack continued along the road for some way, with high banks and thick-set hedges on either side, till they reached a flat at the bottom of a dip, extending for a considerable distance, along which the water lay pretty deep, having long overflowed its proper banks, and wandered lazily for miles over meadows on either side of the road. Here they were stopped by a cart greatly overloaded with wood, the two heavy wheels of one side having sunk deep in the mud. An old man in smock-frock, and five or six other carters in the same dress were working hard, apparently to extricate the waggon.
"Why don't the fellows unload the cart?" exclaimed Jack; "they will never get it out otherwise."
The pack-horses and the other herds must have passed before the accident had occurred; for there was scarcely room to allow the animals to get by between the cart and the ditch. Just as Mr Strelley's herd arrived at the waggon, over it went, completely blocking up the road.
"Had we not better try and help them?" exclaimed Jack to Brinsmead; "they will never do it of themselves, and we should soon get the wood off the waggon."
"Let us see how they manage for themselves first," answered Brinsmead. "I don't see what business they have to upset their waggon just at this moment. It is my belief that they could have prevented the accident had they chosen, from the way it went over."
Meantime the drovers with shouts and blows were turning back the herd, to prevent them rushing into the water, which they were about to do when they found they could pass no other way.
"Shall we help you?" cried Jack to the carters. "We should soon with a few ropes be able to get your wheels on dry ground, if you take the weight off the top."
"Mind your own business, young man!" exclaimed a voice from the neighbourhood of the cart. "We know what we're about, and that's more than you do, I'm thinking."
"I do not like the look of things," said Brinsmead to Jack. "I will stay here, and you go back and see after the cattle; I don't know what may be happening otherwise."
Jack accordingly, whip in hand, rode back, the herd being much more separated than usual. As he went on, he saw a considerable number of stragglers in the rear; and as he approached them, what was his astonishment to find that they were being driven away by a dozen fellows or more across the country! He instantly put spurs to his horse and galloped after them, drawing a pistol, and holding it in his hand as he advanced. The cattle-lifters, however,--for such there could be no doubt they really were,--took no notice of his approach, only urging on the beasts the faster. As he came up to the nearest man, he pulled the trigger, but the pistol flashed in the pan; while the man at whom he aimed uttered a scornful laugh in return. His second pistol behaved in the same manner; and on putting his hand in his pocket for his powder-flask, he found that that had gone.
"You will get the worst of it," cried the man, "if you attempt to approach," drawing, as he spoke, a pistol from under his smock-frock. "You had better go back and look after the rest of the beasts, and think yourself fortunate we have not taken the whole of them."
Jack had lifted his heavy stock-whip, intending to dash in at the man; but at that instant the report of fire-arms from the direction of the cart which had been upset reached his ears. It was too evident that Brinsmead and the rest of the men had been attacked, and Jack felt he could be of most use by riding back to assist them. As he was hastening on, approaching the rear of the frightened herd, a horseman who had just come along the road approached him. The stranger, from the pistols in his belt and his general appearance, was, he had no doubt, one of the gang of cattle-lifters. Jack, however, was not inclined to yield without a struggle. Drawing therefore a long knife, or rather dagger, which he carried in a sheath in his belt, he dashed at the horseman.
"Halloo there, my lad, sheathe your blade, if you have not a fancy for having your brains blown out!" exclaimed the other, quietly at the same time drawing a pistol from his belt.
Jack saw that he was covered by the weapon, and restraining his anger exclaimed, "These beasts are under my charge, and I want to know by what right you and your people dare to drive them off the road?"
"By the right of might," answered the robber, for such he seemed to be. "Just calm yourself, my lad; perhaps we may settle matters more easily than you now fancy. You will understand that we could manage to carry off every one of your drove if we chose, but we do not wish to do that. Will you listen to my terms?"
"I will listen to them, but will not undertake to agree to them," answered Jack. "What are they?"
"We will take ten shillings sterling a head for every one of the cattle in the drove. If you agree to that, those which have been driven off shall be returned; if not, we shall take the liberty of helping ourselves to as many as we fancy."
"I will mention the terms you propose to our head drover," answered Jack: "if he agrees to them, I have not a word to say to the contrary."
"Well, be smart about it, my lad. Will Brinsmead is a man of sense, so I have no doubt he will listen to reason on this occasion. Hasten down, therefore, to your friends in the swamp there; they and our men have played long enough at quarter-staff; and mark you, if Brinsmead does not like my offer, remind him I have the power to settle the business in another way."
Jack looked doubtfully at the horseman, fearing that when he went up to the front, more of the cattle would be driven off.
"You need not be afraid, Mr Deane; your cattle are safe enough, I give you my word for it: none shall be taken till you come back," said the robber, observing Jack's hesitation.
Jack found Brinsmead looking very disconsolate at the turn affairs had taken.
"We have fallen among the Philistines, Jack, and it's not likely they will let us go till they have fleeced us completely."
"Cheer up, Master Brinsmead!" said Jack. "I will speak to them, and see what can be done."
On this Jack called a parley with their opponents, who seemed prepared for the proposal; but not without much grief and many doubts did Will Brinsmead listen to the terms. Seeing, however, that his chance of escape was hopeless, he at length consented to pay the levier of black-mail his iniquitous dues. On this Jack rode back to the top of the rise where he had left the horseman, and told him that the arrangement was agreed to.
"Well, then, send your people to look after the beasts, and I will come down and settle with worthy Master Brinsmead. You will not find it silver thrown away, let me tell you; for we shall take care that not a crown more will you have to pay till you get safe back to your master with the profits of your journey."
With many a groan and sigh Brinsmead produced his leathern purse from a side-pocket carefully secured round him, and counted out the pieces into the broad palm of the cattle-lifter, who coolly deposited them in his pouch, as if he had been receiving the result of an honest bargain. Meantime the waggon without much difficulty was lifted up from its position, and dragged on one side to allow the beeves to pass by.
"I will give you an acknowledgment if you like, friend," said the robber with a laugh. "If you will write out the paper, I will sign it with my mark; for as to writing, it's an art I never learned."
"How came you to know my name?" asked Jack. "I don't remember you."
"We know every body who travels along this road, and maybe we have met before, though you don't recollect me," answered the robber. "And now farewell to you, and may you find a good market for your beasts, and success in all your dealings."
Saying this, the robber turned his horse, and rode up the hill, while the rest of the band withdrew quickly out of sight. The poor fellows who had been hurt were placed on horseback, and Brinsmead and Jack Deane trudged along by their side, considerably downcast by the adventure. Brinsmead had never appeared so much put out.
"This comes of the way you have of talking to all the people you meet, Mr Deane," he observed, in a tone very unlike that he usually used. "I have a belief that the man you were riding so long by the side of has had something to do with this day's business. I marked him when he passed me, and I told you then that I did not like his looks."
"You mean Master Pearson, I suppose," answered Jack. "I cannot make out how he can have had any thing to do with the thieves. He told me all about himself; and if he was not an honest man, he would not have done that. He is a Yorkshireman, a dealer in wool and drapery, and is on his way to Stourbridge Fair and Newmarket. If he had had any sinister motive, he would not have spoken as frankly as he did."
"Then who stole your powder-flask, and drew the bullets out of your pistols?" asked Brinsmead.
"Not the man you speak of, certainly," said Jack. "I looked at the priming of my pistols this morning, and they were all right, though to be sure, not thinking that they might have been tampered with, I did not examine the charges. However, he could not have done it while riding alongside of me. In what state did you find your pistols, Brinsmead?"
"I must own, Jack, they would not go off either; and yet I did this morning what I always do, examine them before starting, when I have my master's property to defend upon the road."
"But did you never lose sight of them after you had examined them?" asked Deane.
Brinsmead thought a few moments.
"Yes, I remember now, for once I did; and now I think of it, I remember seeing a man, very like the fellow who has just left us, watching me as I went out. That's it, depend on it."
While Brinsmead was speaking, he pulled out his pistols and examined them with his ramrod. The charge of both had been withdrawn. He put them back into his holsters with a look of annoyance.
"Ah! these are old tricks, and more shame to me I was not up to them; but now, for the sake of the poor fellows we have got here, we must push on as fast as we can get the drove over this mud and these mortally bad roads. There's a house called Winn's Farm about three miles off from here, where we shall be able to get good pasturage, and the men will be well looked after."
Pushing on, in the course of another hour the drove approached Winn's Farm which had been spoken of, when Deane walked on before that he might explain to the farmer what had happened, and make arrangements for remaining there during the night. The names of Mr Strelley of Nottingham and his old drover were well-known along the road, and accordingly a kindly welcome was given to the whole party. The kine were turned into some good grazing-ground, and the wounded drovers were carefully placed on a bed, and their hurts looked to by Dame Winn, the farmer's wife. The good woman prided herself on her surgical knowledge, having received instructions from her mother, who in her younger days had had unhappily, during the Civil Wars, too much opportunity of gaining experience in the art of attending to gunshot wounds.
"We must have better laws, Master Brinsmead; these sort of things cannot be allowed in the country," observed Farmer Winn, when his guests were seated round his hospitable board, at which all his family, as well as the drovers and his old farm-servants, were also assembled. "I have suffered from some of these caterans from the north, so I have a fellow-feeling with you, I can tell you."
"The laws are not so bad," answered Brinsmead, "but we want people to carry them out. The king is willing enough, but it is hard to get people to assist him. However, things are improving in many respects, and depend upon it these gentlemen have not a much longer course to run."
Will Brinsmead had no objection to the good things of life, and while enjoying the substantial fare set before him by Farmer Winn and his good dame, soon forgot the annoyance he had suffered. _