Chapter 5
THE apparition of a file of soldiers ringing down the butt-ends of
their loaded muskets on our door-step, caused the dinner-party to
rise from table in confusion, and caused Mrs Joe re-entering the
kitchen empty-handed, to stop short and stare, in her wondering
lament of `Gracious goodness gracious me, what's gone -- with the
-- pie!'
The sergeant and I were in the kitchen when Mrs Joe stood
staring; at which crisis I partially recovered the use of my
senses. It was the sergeant who had spoken to me, and he was now
looking round at the company, with his handcuffs invitingly
extended towards them in his right hand, and his left on my
shoulder.
`Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,' said the sergeant, `but as I
have mentioned at the door to this smart young shaver' (which he
hadn't), `I am on a chase in the name of the king, and I want the
blacksmith.'
`And pray what might you want with him?' retorted my sister,
quick to resent his being wanted at all.
`Missis,' returned the gallant sergeant, `speaking for myself, I
should reply, the honour and pleasure of his fine wife's acquaint-
ance; speaking for the king, I answer, a little job done.'
This was received as rather neat in the sergeant; insomuch that
Mr Pumblechook cried audibly, `Good again!'
`You see, blacksmith,' said the sergeant, who had by this time
picked out Joe with his eye, `we have had an accident with these,
and I find the lock of one of 'em goes wrong, and the coupling
don't act pretty. As they are wanted for immediate service, will you
throw your eye over them?'
Joe threw his eye over them, and pronounced that the job would
necessitate the lighting of his forge fire, and would take nearer two
hours than one, `Will it? Then will you set about it at once, black-
smith?' said the off-hand sergeant, `as it's on his Majesty's service.
And if my men can bear a hand anywhere, they'll make themselves
useful.' With that, he called to his men, who came trooping into
the kitchen one after another, and piled their arms in a corner.
And then they stood about, as soldiers do; now, with their hands
loosely clasped before them; now, resting a knee or a shoulder;
now, easing a belt or a pouch; now, opening the door to spit
stiffly over their high stocks, out into the yard.
All these things I saw without then knowing that I saw them, for
I was in an agony of apprehension. But, beginning to perceive that
the handcuffs were not for me, and that the military had so far got
the better of the pie as to put it in the background, I collected a
little more of my scattered wits.
`Would you give me the Time?' said the sergeant, addressing
himself to Mr Pumblechook, as to a man whose appreciative
powers justified the inference that he was equal to the time.
`It's just gone half-past two.'
`That's not so bad,' said the sergeant, reflecting; `even if I was
forced to halt here nigh two hours, that'll do. How far might you
call yourselves from the marshes, hereabouts? Not above a mile, l
reckon ? '
`Just a mile,' said Mrs Joe.
`That'll do. We begin to close in upon 'em about dusk. A little
before dusk, my orders are. That'll do.'
`Convicts, sergeant?' asked Mr Wopsle, in a matter-of-course
way.
`Ay!' returned the sergeant, `two. They're pretty well known
to be out on the marshes still, and they won't try to get clear of 'em
before dusk. Anybody here seen anything of any such game?'
Everybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence. Nobody
thought of me.
`Well!' said the sergeant, `they'll find themselves trapped in a
circle, I expect, sooner than they count on. Now, blacksmith! If
you're ready, his Majesty the King is.'
Joe had got his coat and waistcoat and cravat off, and his leather
apron on, and passed into the forge. One of the soldiers opened its
wooden windows, another lighted the fire, another turned to at the
bellows, the rest stood round the blaze, which was soon roaring.
Then Joe began to hammer and clink, hammer and clink, and we
all looked on.
The interest of the impending pursuit not only absorbed the
general attention, but even made my sister liberal. She drew a
pitcher of beer from the cask, for the soldiers, and invited the
sergeant to take a glass of brandy. But Mr Pumblechook said,
sharply, `Give him wine, Mum. I'll engage there's no Tar in that:'
so, the sergeant thanked him and said that as he preferred his drink
without tar, he would take wine, if it was equally convenient.
When it was given him, he drank his Majesty's health and Compli-
ments of the Season, and took it all at a mouthful and smacked his
lips.
`Good stuff, eh, sergeant? ' said Mr Pumblechook.
`I'll tell you something,' returned the sergeant; `I suspect that
stuff's of your providing.'
Mr Pumblechook, with a fat sort of laugh, said, `Ay, ay? Why ?'
`Because,' returned the sergeant, clapping him on the shoulder,
`you're a man that knows what's what.'
`D'ye think so?' said Mr Pumblechook, with his former laugh.
`Have another glass!'
`With you. Hob and nob,' returned the sergeant. `The top of
mine to the foot of yours -- the foot of yours to the top of mine --
Ring once, ring twice -- the best tune on the Musical Glasses! Your
health. May you live a thousand years, and never be a worse judge
of the right sort than you are at the present moment of your life!'
The sergeant tossed off his glass again and seemed quite ready
for another glass. I noticed that Mr Pumblechook in his hospitality
aPpeared to forget that he had made a present of the wine, but took
the bottle from Mrs Joe and had all the credit of handing it about
in a gush of joviality. Even I got some. And he was so very free of
the wine that he even called for the other bottle, and handed that
about with the same liberality, when the first was gone.
As I watched them while they all stood clustering about the
forge, enjoying themselves so much, I thought what terrible good
sauce for a dinner my fugitive friend on the marshes was. They
had not enjoyed themselves a quarter so much, before the enter-
tainment was brightened with the excitement he furnished. And
now, when they were all in lively anticipation of `the two villains'
being taken, and when the bellows seemed to roar for the fugitives,
the fire to flare for them, the smoke to hurry away in pursuit of
them, Joe to hammer and clink for them, and all the murky
shadows on the wall to shake at them in menace as the blaze rose
and sank and the red-hot sparks dropped and died, the pale after-
noon outside, almost seemed in my pitying young fancy to have
turned pale on their account, poor wretches.
At last, Joe's job was done, and the ringing and roaring stopped.
As Joe got on his coat, he mustered courage to propose that some
of us should go down with the soldiers and see what came of the
hunt. Mr Pumblechook and Mr Hubble declined, on the plea of a
pipe and ladies' society; but Mr Wopsle said he would go, if Joe
would. Joe said he was agreeable, and would take me, if Mrs Joe
approved. We never should have got leave to go, I am sure, but
for Mrs Joe's curiosity to know all about it and how it ended. As it
was, she merely stipulated, `If you bring the boy back with his head
blown to bits by a musket, don't look to me to put it together
again.'
The sergeant took a polite leave of the ladies, and parted from
Mr Pumblechook as from a comrade; though I doubt if he were
quite as fully sensible of that gentleman's merits under arid condi-
tions, as when something moist was going. His men resumed their
muskets and fell in. Mr Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge
to keep in the rear, and to speak no word after we reached the
marshes. When we were all out in the raw air and were steadily
moving towards our business, I treasonably whispered to Joe, `I
hope, Joe, we shan't find them.' And Joe whispered to me, `I'd
give a shilling if they had cut and run, Pip.'
We were joined by no stragglers from the village, for the weather
was cold and threatening, the way dreary, the footing bad, darkness
coming on, and the people had good fires in-doors and were keep-
ing the day. A few faces hurried to glowing windows and looked
after us, but none came out. We passed the finger-post, and held
straight on to the churchyard. There, we were stopped a few
minutes by a signal from the sergeant's hand, while two or three
of his men dispersed themselves among the graves, and also
examined the porch. They came in again without finding anything,
and then we struck out on the open marshes, through the gate at
the side of the churchyard. A bitter sleet came rattling against us
here on the east wind, and Joe took me on his back.
Now that we were out upon the dismal wilderness where they
little thought I had been within eight or nine hours and had
seen both men hiding, I considered for the first time, with great
dread, if we should come upon them, would my particular convict
suppose that it was I who had brought the soldiers there? He had
asked me if I was a deceiving imp, and he had said I should be a
fierce young hound if I joined the hunt against him. Would he
believe that I was both imp and hound in treacherous earnest, and
had betrayed him?
It was of no use asking myself this question now. There I was,
on Joe's back, and there was Joe beneath me, charging at the
ditches like a hunter, and stimulating Mr Wopale not to tumble on
his Roman nose, and to keep up with us. The soldiers were in
front of us, extending into a pretty wide line with an interval
between man and man. We were taking the course I had begun
with, and from which I had diverged in the mist. Either the mist
was not out again yet, or the wind had dispelled it. Under the low
ted glare of sunset, the beacon, and the gibbet, and the mound of
the Battery, and the opposite shore of the river, were plain, though
all of a watery lead colour.
With my heart thumping like a blacksmith at Joe's broad
shoulder, I looked all about for any sign of the convicts. I could see
none, I could hear none. Mr Wopsle had greatly alarmed me more
than once, by his blowing and hard breathing; but I knew the sounds
by this time, and could dissociate them from the object of pursuit.
I got a dreadful start, when I thought I heard the file still going;
but it was only a sheep bell. The sheep stopped in their eating and
looked timidly at us; and the cattle, their heads turned from the
wind and sleet, stared angrily as if they held us responsible for
both annoyances; but, except these things, and the shudder of the
dying day in every blade of grass, there was no break in the bleak
stillness of the marshes.
The soldiers were moving on in the direction of the old Battery,
and we were moving on a little way behind them, when, all of a
sudden, we all stopped. For, there had reached us on the wings of
the wind and rain, a long shout. It was repeated. It was at a distance
towards the east, but it was long and loud. Nay, there seemed to be
two or more shouts raised together -- if one might judge from a
confusion in the sound.
To this effect the sergeant and the nearest men were speaking
under their breath, when Joe and I came up. After another mo-
ment's listening, Joe (who was a good judge) agreed, and Mr
Wopsle (who was a bad judge) agreed. The sergeant, a decisive
man, ordered that the sound should not be answered, but that the
course should be changed, and that his men should make towards it
`at the double.' So we slanted to the right (where the East was),
and Joe pounded away so wonderfully, that I had to hold on tight
to keep my seat.
It was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in the only two
words he spoke all the time, `a Winder.' Down banks and up
banks, and over gates, and splashing into dykes, and breaking
among coarse rushes: no man cared where he went. As we came
nearer to the shouting, it became more and more apparent that it
was made by more than one voice. Sometimes, it seemed to stop
altogether, and then the soldiers stopped. When it broke out again,
the soldiers made for it at a greater rate than ever, and we after
them. After a while, we had so run it down, that we could hear
one voice calling `Murder!' and another voice, `Convicts! Run-
aways! Guard! This way for the runaway convicts!' Then both
voices would seem to be stifled in a struggle, and then would
break out again. And when it had come to this, the soldiers ran
like deer, and Joe too.
The sergeant ran in first, when we had run the noise quite down,
and two of his men ran in close upon him. Their pieces were
cocked and levelled when we all ran in.
`Here are both menl' panted the sergeant, struggling at the
bottom of a ditch. `Surrender, you two! and confound you for
two wild beasts! Come asunder!'
Water was splashing, and mud was flying, and oaths were being
sworn, and blows were being struck, when some more men went
down into the ditch to help the sergeant, and dragged out, sepa-
rately, my convict and the other one. Both were bleeding and
panting and execmting and struggling; but of course I knew them
both directly.
`Mind!' said my convict, wiping blood from his face with his
ragged sleeves, and shaking torn hair from his fingers: `I took him!
I give him up to you! Mind that!'
`It's not much to be particular about,' said the sergeant; `it'll do
you small good, my man, being in the same plight yourself.
Handcuffs there!'
`I don't expect it to do me any good. I don't want it to do me
more good than it does now,' said my convict, with a greedy laugh.
`I took him. He knows it. That's enough for me.'
The other convict was livid to look at, and, in addition to the old
bruised left side of his fuce, seemed to be bruised and torn all over.
He could not so much as get his breath to speak, until they were
both separately handcuffed, but leaned upon a soldier to keep
himself from falling.
`Take notice, guard -- he tried to murder me,' were his first
words.
`Tried to murder him?' said my convict, disdainfully. `Try, and
not do it? I took him, and giv' him up; that's what I done. I not
only prevented him getting off the marshes, but I dragged him
here -- dragged him this far on his way back. He's a gentleman, if
you please, this villain. Now, the Hulks has got its gentleman again,
through me. Murder him? Worth my while, too, to murder him,
when I could do worse and drag him back!'
The other one still gasped, `He tried -- he tried -- to -- murder
me. Bear -- bear witness.'
`Lookee here!' said my convict to the sergeant. `Single-handed
I got clear of the prison-ship; I made a dash and I done it. I could
ha' got clear of these death-cold flats likewise -- look at my leg:
you won't find much iron on it -- if I hadn't made discovery that
he was here. Let him go free? Let him profit by the means as I
found out? Let him make a tool of me afresh and again? Once
more? No, no, no. If I had died at the bottom there;' and he made
an emphatic swing at the ditch with his manacled hands; `I'd have
held to him with that grip, that you should have been safe to find
him in my hold.'
The other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of his
companion, repeated, `He tried to murder me. I should have been
a dead man if you had not come up.'
`He lies!' said my convict, with fierce energy. `He's a liar born,
and he'll die a liar. Look at his face; ain't it written there? Let him
turn those eyes of his on me. I defy him to do it.'
The other, with an effort at a scornful smile -- which could not,
however, collect the nervous working of his mouth into any set
expression -- looked at the soldiers, and looked about at the
marshes and at the sky, but certainly did not look at the speaker.
`Do you see him?' pursued my convict. `Do you see what a
villain he is? Do you see those grovelling and wandering eyes?
That's how he looked when we were tried together. He never
looked at me.'
The other, always working and working his dry lips and turning
his eyes restlessly about him far and near, did at last turn them for a
moment on the speaker, with the words, `You are not much to
look at,' and with a half-taunting glance at the bound hands. At
that point, my convict became so frantically exasperated, that he
would have rushed upon him but for the interposition of the
soldiers. `Didn't I tell you,' said the other convict then, `that he
would murder me, if he could?' And any one could see that he
shook with fear, and that there broke out upon his lips, curious
white flakes, like thin snow.
`Enough of this parley,' said the sergeant. `Light those torches.'
As one of the soldiers, who carried a basket in lieu of a gun,
went down on his knee to open it, my convict looked round him
for the first time, and saw me. I had alighted from Joe's back on the
brink of the ditch when we came up, and had not moved since. I
looked at him eagerly when he looked at me, and slightly moved
my hands and shook my head. I had been waiting for him to see
me, that I might try to assure him of my innocence. It was not at all
expressed to me that he even comprehended my intention, for he
gave me a look that I did not understand, and it all passed in a
moment. But if he had looked at me for an hour or for a day, I
could not have remembered his face ever afterwards, as having
been more attentive.
The soldier with the basket soon got a light, and lighted three
or four torches, and took one himself and distributed the others.
It had been almost dark before, but now it seemed quite dark, and
soon afterwards very dark. Before we departed from that spot, four
soldiers standing in a ring, fired twice into the air. Presently we saw
other torches kindled at some distance behind us, and others on the
marshes on the opposite bank of the river. `All right,' said the
sergeant. `March.'
We had not gone far when three cannon were fired ahead of us
with a sound that seemed to burst something inside my ear. `You
are expected on board,' said the sergeant to my convict; `they know
you are coming. Don't straggle, my man. Close up here.'
The two were kept apart, and each walked surrounded by a
separate guard. I had hold of Joe's hand now, and Joe carried one
of the torches. Mr Wopale had been for going back, but Joe was
resolved to see it out, so we went on with the party. There was a
reasonably good path now, mostly on the edge of the river, with a
divergence here and there where a dyke came, with a miniature
windmill on it and a muddy sluice-gate. When I looked round, I
could see the other lights coming in after us. The torches we
carried, dropped great blotches of fire upon the track, and I could
see those, too, lying smoking and flaring. I could see nothing else
but black darkness. Our lights warmed the air about us with their
pitchy blaze, and the two prisoners seemed rather to like that, as
they limped along in the midst of the muskets. We could not go
fast, because of their lameness; and they were so spent, that two or
three times we had to halt while they rested.
After an hour or so of this travelling, we came to a rough wooden
hut and a landing-place. There was a guard in the hut, and they
challenged, and the sergeant answered. Then, we went into the
hut where there was a smell of tobacco and whitewash, and a
bright fire, and a lamp, and a stand of muskets, and a drum, and
a low wooden bedstead, like an overgrown mangle without the
machinery, capable of holding about a dozen soldiers all at once.
Three or four soldiers who lay upon it in their great-coats, were
not much interested in us, but just lifted their heads and took a
sleepy stare, and then lay down again. The sergeant made some
kind of report, and some entry in a book, and then the convict
whom I call the other convict was drafted off with his guard, to go
on board first.
My convict never looked at me, except that once. While we stood
in the hut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or
putting up his feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully
at them as if he pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly,
he turned to the sergeant, and remarked:
`I wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent
some persons laying under suspicion alonger me.'
`You can say what you like,' returned the sergeant, standing
coolly looking at him with his arms folded, `but you have no call
to say it here. You'll have opportunity enough to say about it, and
hear about it, before it's done with, you know.'
`I know, but this is another pint, a separate matter. A man
can't starve; at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the
willage over yonder -- where the church stands a'most out on the
marshes.'
`You mean stole,' said the sergeant.
`And I'll tell you where from. From the blacksmith's.'
`Halloa!' said the sergeant, staring at Joe.
`Halloa, Pip!' said Joe, staring at me.
`It was some broken wittles -- that's what it was -- and a dram of
liquor, and a pie.'
`Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?'
asked the sergeant, confidentially.
`My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you
know, Pip?'
`So,' said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody
manner, and without the least glance at me; `so you're the black-
smith, are you? Then I'm sorry to say, I've eat your Pie.'
`God knows you're welcome to it -- so far as it was ever mine,'
returned Joe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs Joe. `We don't
know what you have done, but we wouldn't have you starved to
death for it, poor miserable fellow-creatur. -- Would us, Pip?'
The something that I had noticed before, clicked in the man's
throat again, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and
his guard were ready, so we followed him to the landing-place
made of rough stakes and stones, and saw him put into the boat,
which was rowed by a crew of convicts like himself. No one
seemed surprised to see him, or interested in seeing him, or glad to
see him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word, except that somebody
in the boat growled as if to dogs, `Give way, you!' which was the
signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the torches, we saw the
black Hulk lying out a little way from the mud of the shore, like a
wicked Noah's ark. Cribbed and barred and moored by massive
rusty chains, the prison-ship seemed in my young eyes to be ironed
like the prisoners. We saw the boat go alongside, and we saw him
taken up the side and disappear. Then, the ends of the torches were
flung hissing into the water, and went out, as if it were all over
with him.
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