Brother Jacob | Page 9

Then, seeing David's bundle, he snatched it, like a too
officious Newfoundland, stuck his pitchfork into it and carried it over
his shoulder in triumph as he accompanied David and the box out of
the thicket.

What on earth was David to do? It would have been easy to frown at
Jacob, and kick him, and order him to get away; but David dared as
soon have kicked the bull. Jacob was quiet as long as he was treated
indulgently; but on the slightest show of anger, he became
unmanageable, and was liable to fits of fury which would have made
him formidable even without his pitchfork. There was no mastery to be
obtained over him except by kindness or guile. David tried guile.
"Go, Jacob," he said, when they were out of the thicket--pointing
towards the house as he spoke; "go and fetch me a spade--a spade. But
give ME the bundle," he added, trying to reach it from the fork, where
it hung high above Jacob's tall shoulder.
But Jacob showed as much alacrity in obeying as a wasp shows in
leaving a sugar-basin. Near David, he felt himself in the vicinity of
lozenges: he chuckled and rubbed his brother's back, brandishing the
bundle higher out of reach. David, with an inward groan, changed his
tactics, and walked on as fast as he could. It was not safe to linger.
Jacob would get tired of following him, or, at all events, could be
eluded. If they could once get to the distant highroad, a coach would
overtake them, David would mount it, having previously by some
ingenious means secured his bundle, and then Jacob might howl and
flourish his pitchfork as much as he liked. Meanwhile he was under the
fatal necessity of being very kind to this ogre, and of providing a large
breakfast for him when they stopped at a roadside inn. It was already
three hours since they had started, and David was tired. Would no
coach be coming up soon? he inquired. No coach for the next two hours.
But there was a carrier's cart to come immediately, on its way to the
next town. If he could slip out, even leaving his bundle behind, and get
into the cart without Jacob! But there was a new obstacle. Jacob had
recently discovered a remnant of sugar-candy in one of his brother's
tail-pockets; and, since then, had cautiously kept his hold on that limb
of the garment, perhaps with an expectation that there would be a
further development of sugar-candy after a longer or shorter interval.
Now every one who has worn a coat will understand the sensibilities
that must keep a man from starting away in a hurry when there is a
grasp on his coat-tail. David looked forward to being well received

among strangers, but it might make a difference if he had only one tail
to his coat.
He felt himself in a cold perspiration. He could walk no more: he must
get into the cart and let Jacob get in with him. Presently a cheering idea
occurred to him: after so large a breakfast, Jacob would be sure to go to
sleep in the cart; you see at once that David meant to seize his bundle,
jump out, and be free. His expectation was partly fulfilled: Jacob did go
to sleep in the cart, but it was in a peculiar attitude--it was with his
arms tightly fastened round his dear brother's body; and if ever David
attempted to move, the grasp tightened with the force of an affectionate
boa-constrictor.
"Th' innicent's fond on you," observed the carrier, thinking that David
was probably an amiable brother, and wishing to pay him a
compliment.
David groaned. The ways of thieving were not ways of pleasantness.
Oh, why had he an idiot brother? Oh, why, in general, was the world so
constituted that a man could not take his mother's guineas comfortably?
David became grimly speculative.
Copious dinner at noon for Jacob; but little dinner, because little
appetite, for David. Instead of eating, he plied Jacob with beer; for
through this liberality he descried a hope. Jacob fell into a dead sleep,
at last, without having his arms round David, who paid the reckoning,
took his bundle, and walked off. In another half- hour he was on the
coach on his way to Liverpool, smiling the smile of the triumphant
wicked. He was rid of Jacob--he was bound for the Indies, where a
gullible princess awaited him. He would never steal any more, but there
would be no need; he would show himself so deserving, that people
would make him presents freely. He must give up the notion of his
father's legacy; but it was not likely he would ever want that trifle; and
even if