Varney the Vampyre 114Jack Pringle Falls in Love, and Has Rather an Unhappy Adventure with a Bold Dragoon
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Literature · Horror
Varney the Vampyre 114
Jack Pringle Falls in Love, and Has Rather an Unhappy Adventure with a Bold Dragoon
RymerEnglish
Jack Pringle, like other men, was subject to the vicissitudes of the passions, which placed him under a certain string of circumstances that produce results quite at variance with those which are usually anticipated when an individual enters upon the pursuits of the tender passion.
Indeed, Jack could see nothing at all unhappy, or in the least degree unfortunate, in the black eyes and rosy lips of Susan, who was most certainly the “maid of the inn,” though not in precisely the same rank as the one alluded to by the song.
He had taken up his residence at the inn, had Jack. Indeed, he was partial to inns in general—there was usually a greater latitude permitted there than elsewhere; not only each one being allowed to accommodate himself as he pleased, but he could have what ’baccy and grog he chose to order, as long as there was a shot in the locker.
This being the state of affairs, Jack found another inducement to stay where he was, and that was the existence of the before-mentioned Susan, who appeared to be as kind as she was good-natured.
She never refused to answer Jack’s call; and when she came, she always said,—
“What did you please to want, Mr. Pringle?”
“Mr. Pringle,” thought Jack. “Well, that sounds pretty from such a pair of lips.”
Jack scratched his head, and turning his quid in his mouth, was often lost in admiration, and forgot all his wants at that moment, and it was not until the question was more than once repeated, that Jack was aware that he really did not want anything, especially as his grog was not all gone.
“Well,” exclaimed Jack, looking at the glass, “I forgot; but never mind, Susan, I’ll have another can while this is going—so I sha’n’t hurry you. I wouldn’t hurry you, Susan—no, that I wouldn’t.”
The course of true love never did run smooth—that is, we know, a rule that is as old as the hills—but then it is of constant recurrence, and one that it may fairly be presumed always will, to the end of the world, and possibly after.
However that may be, Jack was not without a rival, and one of a very formidable character; not that Jack valued him a piece of rotten yarn. No; he never did think anything of a landsman, especially a soldier, for it was to that class this rival belonged.
“Susan,” said Jack, as he sat in the kitchen, watching the various evolutions to which the hands of Susan were applied, in the performance of her multitudinous duties.
“Well, Mr. Pringle,” said Susan.
“Ah!” said Jack; and then there was a pause, during which Jack forgot even to chaw his quid, and was quite abstracted in manner and thought. He had intended to say something, but it had quite escaped him; and it was difficult for Jack to hold his thoughts, as it is for countrymen to hold a pig by the tail when this latter member was well greased, and when it was of that description usually denominated a “bob-tail,” a common occurrence.
“What did you say, Mr. Pringle?” said Susan, bustling about. “I am sure you were about to say something.”
“Well, I suppose I was,” said Jack; “but I don’t know what it was now; but perhaps you do.”
“How should I know? I can’t tell what you are thinking about. What made you think that?”
“Because your black eyes seems to go through me, Susan, like a forty-two pounder. I tell you what, you ought to know what I want to say, because I’m always thinking of you.”
“Are you, though?”
“Yes, I am,” said Jack; “you’re a light craft—a rare pretty figure-head you’d make.”
“Lor! Mr. Pringle,” said Susan.
“Well, you would, though; and I’ll take three dozen and never wink, if there’s one to be found half as handsome in the whole British navy, or in any other.”
“To think,” said Susan, “that I should be called a figure-head! Well, I declare, I never heard the like. Why, what will you not say next? I never thought that of you.”
“Why,” said Jack, who was very much bewildered, and didn’t know precisely what to say—the turn the compliment had taken was one he couldn’t understand—“why, you see, Susan, the figure-head is the beautifulest part of the ship, except may be her rigging, her port-holes, her sides, and her trim; but then, you see, them things ain’t no manner of likeness to anything human, especially you, Susan.”
“Ain’t they, Mr. Pringle? Well, you know best; but I dare say it’s all right, for you must know best. But my cousin says I am more like the Venus day Meditchy, than anything else.”
Jack stared.
“Who?” he inquired, with his eyes opening very wide.
“The Venus day Meditchy,” said Susan, speaking in a very slow, emphatic manner, for Jack’s behoof.
“Don’t know her,” said Jack. “I’ll go bail there ain’t such a ship in the navy. There never was such a thing heard of, unless some of them d—d French craft; but your cousin ought to be well cobbed for saying you were like anything French. Why, you are true blue, and no French about you—is there, Susan?”
“I don’t know; but I never heard there was, and I don’t know if there is; but that’s what he said, and he’s been a long way.”
“Who is he?” said Jack, laying emphasis upon the last word, to indicate that the sound was displeasing.
“Oh! my cousin.”
“Well, but who is your cousin?” inquired Jack. “Have you see him very lately?”
“Yes, I saw him this morning; his regiment is quartered only a few miles from this place.”
“Oh!” said Jack, “he’s a soldier, then?”
“Yes, he is—a horse-soldier,” added Susan.
“A horse-marine. Ah! I know ’em afore to-day; they are a rare lot to lie and gallop away. But lord bless you, they never lay alongside an enemy till you’ve beaten him. No—no—they can’t do that.”
“He’ll be here to-night,” said Susan. “You shall see him, Mr. Pringle; he’s coming all this way to see me.”
“To see you!” said Jack Pringle, who was much displeased with this piece of particular attention in the cousin, and he could not help saying so.
“But he is my cousin,” said Susan; “and you know one cannot refuse to see one’s friends and relations; besides, he has been at all times very kind and good-natured to me, so that I cannot do otherwise than receive him kindly.”
“Oh, to be sure,” said Jack; “by all manner of means; only we must understand each other, Susan; there can’t be more than one captain aboard at a time.”
“How very odd you do talk, Mr. Pringle. My cousin will ask you what you mean.”
“Will he now?” said Jack. “Well, he may do so, if he like; but my lingo will be as good as his, I am sure; but we shall see him, however; but, Susan, you don’t care anything about him, you know.”
“Not a bit, Mr. Pringle; only as a cousin, you know.”
“Oh! very well,” said Jack; “I don’t care about that a bit; but if so be you’re going to carry on any games, you know, why, I won’t stand it.”
“Oh, honour,” said Susan, looking tenderly at Jack; “honour, you know. Do you think I could be capable of doing so? No, I never do anything unbeknown to a person. No, I say, let all be fair and no preference.”
“Well,” said Jack, “but I want all fair, but I should have no objection to a little preference, too. Don’t you give no preference to me over a soldier, Susan?”
“Don’t know,” said Susan; but she gave a look towards Jack that made him suspend the libation he was about to pour down his throat.
“Oh! I see how it is with you, Susy,” said Jack, becoming more familiar and pleased, for Susan’s black eye had a magical effect upon Jack, and he felt as if Susan must love him as much as he loved Susan; her eyes told him more than her tongue; Jack was quite sure of that.
“When is he coming?” said Jack.
“To-night,” said Susan; “and you must promise me you will be very quiet and civil, and then you shall see him; only you won’t take any notice of what he says or does.”
“No, no,” said Jack; “it’s all right; I understand. I won’t quarrel with him; no, not even if he were to—but splinter my mainmast, if I could stand that!”
“Stand what?” inquired Susan, demurely.
“Kissing of you,” said Jack, striking the table with his fist, so as to make the glasses that happened to be there tremble; “I couldn’t; I could stand the cat first.”
“Lor, Mr. Pringle! who asked you to do so? I am sure, I would not do such a thing.”
“What?” said Jack.
“Why to let him kiss me, to be sure.”
Jack looked, perhaps felt, electrified, and, after a moment’s pause, took his quid out of his mouth, hitched up his trousers, and then seized Susan by the waist, and gave her a kiss. It was a kiss; such a one only as a man-of-war’s man could give; it went off like the report of a pistol.
“Lor, Mr. Pringle!” said Susan, “I thought you were quite another sort of a man. What would my cousin, the dragoon, have said, if he had seen you? Dear me! you must have alarmed the whole house; I didn’t think you were going to make so much noise, though.”
A footstep approached, and the landlady thrust her head in; but Susan was busy, and Jack was chewing his quid as grand as an admiral.
“Susan.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Susan.
“What’s the matter?”
“Don’t know, ma’am. Didn’t know there was anything wrong at all, ma’am.”
“I thought I heard a plate smash just now. Are you sure you haven’t broken anything.”
“Yes; quite, ma’am.”
“Oh!” said the landlady. “I certainly thought I heard a smash; but, I suppose, it was a mistake altogether, However I am glad of it.”
“There!” said Susan, when she had gone; “I told you how you had alarmed the place.”
“Well,” said Jack, who felt much abashed at what had happened, “I didn’t make so much noise, either. But never mind; I’ll take more care another time.”
The evening came round, and with it came the dragoon, as fine a specimen of military dress, discipline, and riotism as can well be let loose upon a decent community, and Susan met him in the passage.
“Ah! my pretty Susan,” said the son of Mars, “the star of my destiny, and the hope of my heart. While I wear spurs, I will love you, ever dearest.”
“Oh! come, none of that nonsense, you know, Robert; it won’t do; you say too many fine things, you know.”
“Of course I do; but can I say them without occasion. No; as well might you want day without daylight—the moon without moonlight. You inspire me, you see, and without you I couldn’t say anything.”
“I dare say not,” replied Susan; “you are such a man, that you make one believe what you say.”
“You ought, since I speak the truth, and nothing else; but, come, come, we’ll go in. I want to talk to you, Susan; I came on purpose to see you. There’s the barmaid at the Plough and Gooseberry-bush, quite sulky because I didn’t stop there; but I know I promised you I would come, and so I would be as good as my word.”
“Are you sure she was sulky?”
“Certain, because she did would not say good bye.”
“Well, but now I want to speak to you about something I want to explain.”
“Explain, my dear. I’ll explain anything that can be explained—I don’t mind what it is. You’ll never find me backward in coming forward with any amount of explanation that you can by any possibility require.”
“That is not what I want. I have a cousin here.”
“Aye; I’m not particular. I will pay her every kind of attention. I am sure you will acknowledge I am not wanting in any attentions to you.”
“Oh! dear, no; but it is not a female cousin that I want to speak to you about.”
“Indeed! I can’t tolerate another.”
“Yes, but you must. He’s just come from sea, and is a very odd man, but an uncommonly good-hearted man, so don’t take any particular notice of what he says or does.”
“I don’t mind him a bit—not the value of a pinch of snuff.”
“Yes, but you must do that, only don’t do anything to vex him. You can be pleasant company when you please, I know.”
“And so I will.”
“To please me you will; for though I don’t care anything for him more than if he were my brother, yet he’s very fond of me.”
“That’s no recommendation to me,” said the dragoon; “a spoony anchor buttons, I suppose.”
“You must be civil to him, or I will never see you any more.”
“Well, then, my charmer, I will say anything you like to this salt-water fish of yours; but he mustn’t lay hands upon you; if he should do so, why, I should be obliged to chastise him.”
“But he’s a man-of-war’s man.”
“And I am a man of war myself, my dear.”
“Lor!” said Susan.
Upon which she turned her eyes and face towards the dragoon, who could not let such an opportunity slip, and he immediately saluted her in true military style, but he did not commit the same offence that Jack Pringle did, for the former told no tale by the report—it was all quiet; and he followed Susan until they came to the room in which Jack was sitting.
“This is Mr. John Pringle,” she said.
“Aye, aye,” said Jack; “here am I—Jack Pringle—afloat or on shore, all the same.”
“And this,” continued Susan, “is Mr. Robert Swabbem.”
“How d’ye do,” said Jack, “Mr. Swabbem? I dare say it is so; but since we are to be shipmates, we may as well be friends—how d’ye do?”
“Pretty well, I thank you, Mr. Pringle—very well, indeed. Hope I see you quite well, and at home?”
“Yes, quite so—both ways; well, and at home.”
“The devil!”
“Yes, we call him Davy Jones; but, then, I suppose, you have one on purpose, in your line?”
“Why, there’s a little of the devil in us—that is pretty well admitted on all hands; and that’s as much as we have any wish to have in the way of connection with the gentleman whom you name.”
“Aye, aye; maybe you’ll know more on him afore you are done; but no matter—sit down, messmate, we can discuss a can of grog, I reckon.”
“Yes, easily. I can do my duty in any point, friend, you may best please. Facing an enemy, drinking a can, or kissing a lass. What more can you say?”
“I can do the same myself as some I know can testify, if they chose to speak,” said Jack, who gave a sly look at Susan; but at the same time she nearly fell a laughing, when reminded of Jack’s tremendous smack, which the landlady mistook for a smashing of crockery; “but, howsomever,” cried Jack, who had relapsed into a grim smile, “we’ll have a can together.”
“Very well; Susan, will you do what is needful for us? If the landlady would allow me, I’d wait upon you and do all your work.”
“And a pretty bobbery,” said Susan, “she would make of it; you would soon get discharged for tasting the grog on its way from the bar to the parlour.”
“Ah! well, I might get into trouble if I did that. What do you say, friend Jingle?”
“Pringle,” said Jack.
“Oh, ah! Ringle. I have it now distinctly.”
“Why, you swab,” said Jack in a rage, “I ain’t got no such kickshaw names as them—mine’s quite different altogether, so say what you like.”
“My name,” said the soldier, “ain’t Swab—but Swabbem, at your service.”
“Ah,” said Jack, “whether Swab or Swabbem, it don’t much matter—we all must fill our place—some are luckier than others, though they might be cousins.”
“Cousins! curse cousins, say I.”
“Same here,” said Jack; and then they both stared at each other, believing each other cousins to Susan, though not to each other.
“I am glad you are here,” said Susan; “I have the grog for you; it is extra strong. I know, because I put some more into it; I turned the tap on into each, and she didn’t see me do it.”
“Ah, Susan, I see you have a great regard for me; but it is not more than you ought, when you come to consider how I respect you,” said the soldier.
“The same here,” said Jack, who thought this pretty good for a cousin; “I admire Susan—she’s got such eyes, and such cheeks——”
“So she has—they are like diamonds set in roses; that they are.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “and as soft as velvet.”
“Damme,” said the soldier, “you beat me hollow. I say, messmate, where did you learn to fire your great guns off in that manner, eh?”
“Where!” said Jack, putting the can down; “why, where there were men to fire into us again. I’ll warrant you it was none of your field days, where people are tearing their hearts out to look fine—no, no; the lee scuppers ran with blood, and every heart was a true British sailor’s.”
“Well, that was good; but when I served on foreign service, there was no getting out of the way of danger, behind a wall, stone, brick, or wooden.”
“No, nor even laying on the ground—we had not even that; for as we fought, we destroyed the very building which supported us, and we had the spirits of the sea to contend against, as well as the dangers of the fight.”
“Oh, it’s all very well,” said the soldier, “but danger’s danger, and there’s an end of the matter; only I wish there was no such thing as bad grog.”
“That’s a great evil. Why, what d’ye think we did at Portsmouth the day after we landed? The landlord gave us bad grog, and how do you think we served him? Why, we made him drink till he was so drunk he couldn’t lay down without being afraid of falling, and then we cut his hair all off.”
“Well, I recollect a place in Portugal where they brought us some wine which we couldn’t drink. It was horribly thin and sour. We had in vain asked for better, but none was to be had at our bidding; indeed, we felt sure there was better, and we determined to have it.
“We called our landlord and told him we were resolved to ruin him if he didn’t bring it up—we would have better wine; but he protested he had not got any.
“Now, we were resolved to search, and accordingly we did search until we came upon some beautiful wine—some of the best port ever I tasted, and we made free with it. At all events, we drank as much as we could drink, and then fell fast asleep, and forgot to punish our landlord for the rascality; but I suppose he was well aware of what he deserved, for he endeavoured to excite some of the peasantry about to murder us while we slept, and when we awoke, we found ourselves surrounded by a dozen men.
“There was but three of us, but we were armed, and the peasants had nothing but a miscellaneous description of weapons—old guns, swords, and clubs; but they were not the men we were.
“Well, it came to a hard fight; more blows were struck, however, than did any mischief, because we could make use of our tools, and fought so hard, that they were glad to leave us victors.”
“Lor!” said Susan; “you don’t mean that—do you?”
“I do, indeed; but that was nothing. I frightened a whole regiment of the enemy.”
“Eh?” said Jack; “what, a whole ship’s compliment, eh? Well, that will do; go a-head; you beat all the cousins as ever I heard of, if you don’t never mind me, that is all about it; a good yarn, well spun, is worth a glass of grog at any time.”
“Well, I’ll tell you all about it; it’s sooner told than done, I can tell you; but never mind, Susan, don’t be frightened; it’s all past now, though it was true; but the best things must have an end some time or other, and this had one too.
“I was serving in Spain. I fought against the French then; and though I say so, you may depend upon it I took my chance as well as another man. However, I had many inclinations to go a step or two beyond my strict duty, and do more than I was obliged; but what of it? If you succeed, you are sure to be rewarded; and I wanted, if I could, to capture a pair of colours, which would give me a step in my regiment.
“‘Charge, my brave boys!’ shouted the colonel, as the enemy appeared coming down upon us.
“They were three or four to one, besides a reserve at a short distance. But we thought nothing of that; we had every reason to believe we were outnumbered; but that was all; and we drove hard at them.
“It was a glorious sight to see us full tear at the heavy-armed cavalry, in squadrons; but they had the advantage of weight and number of men; yet our shock was so great, that many of the enemy were thrown out of their saddles, and many more were killed; we hewed and hacked at each other for some time, until, in fact, the enemy began to give way.
“As soon as we began to find out that, we urged our horses on, and ourselves to strain our utmost, and we forced them back, and they began to turn about in right earnest, and show us their heels.
“Unfortunately for us there were no other troops at hand to support us. I say unfortunately, for while we were engaged in beating a larger force than our own, and which even then outnumbered us, we were taken in the rear by the reserve, and many men were cut down before our men could be called off.
“Among those who were taken prisoners was myself. I had received one or two severe wounds, which were, indeed, considered mortal; but which were not so dangerous as they were believed.
“However, as I kept my saddle, I was taken prisoner; indeed, I was unable to offer any resistance; my eyes were filled with blood—”
“Lor! how dreadful,” said Susan.
“It was dreadful to think of it, then; but I did not; I was too much occupied with my desire to do my duty, so heated and excited, to think anything about it. I was dragged away.
“Then what became of me, I don’t know; but I have some recollection of having a cloak thrown over me; and I rode away in company with them. I know we went away very fast, for they dreaded another charge of our men; and they had succeeded in escaping and reforming, and they were hovering, reinforced, upon our march.
“Well, that night, as I was deemed too badly wounded to give them any trouble, or attempting to make an escape, they let me lie in a stable.
“I fainted away; and, after several attempts to restore me, they left me as a hopeless case; but it was no matter to them, they didn’t grieve. I wondered in my own mind, as to the reason of their doing so much; but I suppose it was that prisoners were at a premium with them at that time; and they were anxious to return as large a number of prisoners as possible; and, upon the principle which induced the elderly dame to attempt emptying the sea with a tea-spoon, that every little was a help, they thought that if I lived I should be one more, and where the numbers were small, one was of importance.
“They gave me up as a bad job altogether, and after they had racked up their horses, they sat down for the evening to their meat and their wine. They had been all conversing together, but they were about to lie down and have some sleep, when suddenly I awoke from my trance, and walked out without at all knowing what I did.
“The men stared at me, and shook like so many aspens, but did not stir, till one of them said,—
“A ghost—a ghost!”
“This had the effect of clearing the place, for they all jumped up and ran away from the spot, leaving me master of the place; and judging that I was alone, I very soon made my way back to the quarters of the English, and got to the quarters of my old regiment, where I was kindly received, my comrades having given me up as lost.”
“Well,” said Jack Pringle, “you were very nearly gone certainly, though you warn’t quite a ghost; but that ain’t half so bad as a fire-ship—especially in towing a fire-ship among the enemy. I was once on an expedition of that sort when I was in the Mediterranean.”
“Lor, a fire-ship! What’s that?” inquired Susan.
“A ship-load of fire, with lots of combustibles,” said Jack. “It’s a thing that won’t do for a plaything.
“Well, the enemy had several, and, as we came up to them, we found they had the wind in their favour, and the first thing they did was to put out several of these fire-ships. But the wind was not direct for them, it was shifting. Well, we were ordered to man the boats, and tow the fire-ships back again amongst the enemy.
“Well, you may be sure they didn’t like that, especially when the fire-ships blew up. They did so with a dreadful explosion, setting fire to friend and enemy, and blowing them out of the water.
“This we did, and, as we towed the vessels along, we were fired at at a pretty smart rate, I can tell you; why, the very sea seemed to boil around us.”
“Lor!” said Susan, “how dreadful! Why it’s horrible here when the pot boils, and Heaven knows what it must have been there. Why, I am sure, I wonder how you escaped being scalded to death.”
“Why, some on ’em did get killed,” said Jack. “My starboard man was shot through the head, and one or two more went on an errand to Davy Jones.”
“It was lucky for them,” said Susan, “that they were sent out of the way when there was so much danger going on around you. I am sure I should have been glad.”
“May be so,” said Jack, turning his quid; “but I know this, them as was sent upon that errand never came back any more; they stayed away altogether; many of them becoming food for the sharks. However, we towed away, and, the breeze shifting, we got pretty well among them, and then we left the fire-ships where they ought to be, among the enemy.
“Well, we had a hard pull to get back, there being five or six ships firing broadside after broadside at us; but they never hit the boat. The other boat they did hit, and a shot went clean through her, and she went down in deep water.”
“And what became of the poor men that were in it?” inquired Susan, horrified at the detail.
“Some on ’em were drowned, and some we saved,” said Jack; “but we had scarcely reached our own vessel, when the fire-ships blew up, setting fire to and damaging several of the enemy, who were near at hand, and covering the sea with bits of burning timber, and many fell into the ships, setting fire to their rigging, and knocking men on the head, and doing a world of mischief besides.”
“Goodness me!” said Susan, “what a dreadful thing, to be sure. I should not like to be near a fire-ship. At all events, missus is quite a fire-ship here.”
There were but few observations to make. Jack thought he had quieted the dragoon, and had given him a dose of salt water; and, moreover, Jack ogled the “maid of the inn” in such a way that speedily brought the military hero to a sense of his danger, so, curling his moustache with his finger, he said,—
“Well, it’s all very well talking of the dangers of the sea, but it’s nothing to a storming party.”
“A storming party! what’s that?” inquired Susan.
“Why, I’ll tell you, my dear, and then you’ll know all about it. You see, we were at the siege of Bangpowder.”
“Never heard of such a place,” interposed Jack; “what’s the bearing of that outlandish place?”
“Oh, never there, eh?” said the dragoon, contemptuously; “then you don’t know it. Talk of danger, you should have been there, and you would have known what danger was. However, I’ll enlighten your ignorance.
“You must see, Susan, my dear, that at Bangpowder we were very little use in the way of assisting the siege, except that we acted as outposts—foraging parties—and kept off the light troops of the enemy when they shewed themselves, while the infantry set to work in the trenches to work the guns.
“They did work them above a bit, too. For weeks together there was firing day and night, on our side and on theirs, so the air was never without a strong smell of gunpowder, which you might smell for twelve leagues quite strong.”
“Lor!” said Susan.
“Smash my timbers,” said Jack Pringle, “if you ain’t a coming it strong this time.”
“Well,” continued the dragoon, taking no notice of what was said; “well, that was nothing—that was a mere trifle. After some weeks’ firing, we made a hole in the wall, which increased day after day until big enough for a man to enter.
“After that, a storming party was ordered; but, after more than one attempt, our men gave it up as a bad job. Our captain, being a dare-devil sort of fellow, and not liking to see men beaten back, said the breach was practicable, and could be entered.
“This was denied by the officers and men who had been defeated, and he said if his own troop would volunteer, he would undertake to enter the place.
“This was told us, and we all at once volunteered to follow him to the devil, if he chose to go.
“He at once informed the commander-in-chief, and we were ordered to mount the breech. To do this we of course dismounted, and went on foot.
“There was some little excitement upon this matter, but we were cheered as we passed, and when we arrived within a few yards of the walls, we were met by a tremendous fire of all arms.
“This, however, did not daunt us, though it thinned our ranks, and we were less in number; but up the breech we went, one man at a time. Six of them, one after another, were knocked over dead as herrings. Well, the men began to look blue over this; they wouldn’t have minded rushing on in a body, and giving and taking till they all died; but to get on the top of a brick wall, one at a time, to be shot at, why it was more than they liked, especially as they had not struck one blow, or fired a single shot in return.
“‘Hurrah, lads!’ said I; ‘I’ll have a shy, now; come on, and follow me quick.’
“I jumped up and cleared the wall, though a thousand bullets were fired, and got over clear without a shot, save one, that shaved some of my whisker off.
“We all got over, and soon after we were followed by some of the other regiments, and the place was our own; but we were nearly stripped naked.”
“Oh, lor! how was that?” inquired Susan, interested.
“Why, we had so many narrow escapes, that our clothes were all shot to shreds.”
“Goodness!”
“Oh, but it is true,” said the dragoon rising, and going out of the kitchen.
In a few moments afterwards Susan left it also, and Jack, after turning his quid, and squirting the tobacco juice on the floor, rose, and hitching up his trousers with a preliminary “damme!” left the kitchen also; but he hadn’t got far, when, oh, horror! he perceived Susan in the arms of the dragoon, whose moustachioed lips more than once met hers.
“Sink the ship,” muttered Jack, “here’s a pretty go—the black-looking piratical thief.”
But Jack’s peace was soon held, and he listened to an assignation which Jack was determined he would keep himself, to the discomfiture of the dragoon.
Having made up his mind upon this point, he returned to the kitchen, and Susan also in a very few moments; but Jack pretended to be asleep, and wouldn’t speak to her, because he thought she hadn’t behaved well in this affair of the dragoon; he was resolved, however, in substituting himself for the soldier, or, at all events, of making a row.
The time came and Jack stationed himself upon a position where he could with ease lift the dragoon into the water-butt below, in case he offered any opposition to the substitution before named.
The moment came round, and the dragoon was seen slowly and cautiously mounting the way to the window of Susan. It was a kind of leads just above the water-butt, accessible by means of some wooden steps.
“Avast, there,” said Jack, when he got up to the level with the top. “What do you do there?”
“What is that to you?” inquired the dragoon.
“A great deal,” replied Jack; “but you don’t come here—I heard all about it; but I tell you what, you ain’t a coming here, at all events.”
“But I am.”
“Don’t attempt, or I’ll sink you. I will, by all that’s good—so keep back, and go away.”
“I’ll see you d—d first,” said the dragoon. “I have mounted a worse breach than this before to-day; but I suspect there isn’t much danger here.”
He ran up, and soon faced Jack, who seized him round the waist, would have lifted him up in his arms, and could have thrown him into the water-butt, only Jack’s foot suddenly slipped, and he fell down, the soldier upon him, who in an instant regained his feet, and rolled Jack over and over, until he came to the water-butt.
Into this Jack went, head first, and kicked and floundered about; and if the water-butt had not been very rotten, and gave way, letting all the water escape, it is very doubtful if Jack would not have found a watery grave in the confined space of a water-butt.
As it was, he was more than blind and breathless, and sat down in the midst of the water on the stones, to recover himself from the immersion he had undergone.
