Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain, and th | Page 5

was a strange smile upon his lips as he looked at the agent. Without saying a word he walked straight up to the agent, and taking the paper from his hand procured a hammer and some tacks and nailed it up in the most conspicuous place in the bar, displacing some of his aunt's ornaments in so doing; then drinking a mug of ale, he threw himself along a bench and was or seemed to be sound asleep.
'Dash ma wig,' said the farmer, who had before spoken, 'that dangs all, the boy be daft and Mrs. Ally doant say nuthen--he be queer for sartain.'
Mrs. Ally said not a word, but gazed on her nephew with mute astonishment; she did not, however, attempt to remove the obnoxious paper. The agent having in this unexpected manner gained his point, called for wine and sat down with the curate, lawyer, etc. He had yet another object--to find Curly Tom, no easy matter, that worthy being by no means a welcome guest there; that he did come there sometimes, however, Lambert knew, for as long as no warrant was out against him, however bad his character, he could not be turned away from the inn when he paid his shot; he did not like openly to ask for such a character, but sat down trusting that when the ale made the farmers loquacious he should gain some clue to his whereabouts. Fortune seemed destined to be his friend in more than one way that evening. The sound of a pistol shot was heard in the road leading towards the seaport, which was some ten miles distant; and a few moments after, a burly seafaring man entered the tap-room, dragging after him, in his powerful grasp, a ruffianly ill-looking countryman; no other indeed than the man of all others Lambert wished most to see, viz: Curly Tom.
'Cast your anchor there,' said the seaman, 'and if you attempt to slip moorings, afore you've been over-hauled by the skipper, split my topsails but I'll bring you up all standing with this barking iron,' pressing the muzzle of a pistol to the fellow's forehead.
'Put up your pistol,' said the fellow sullenly. 'I beant going to run; you've broke my head and dinged all the wind oot of ma body.'
'What is the matter, my good man?' said Mr. Lambert, coming forward. 'I am a magistrate, and can take your deposition.'
'Matter!' said the sailor, 'piracy is the matter. I was making for this ere port, charged with despatches from my commanding officer, when this ere shark ranges alongside and pops his barking iron into my face, and wants me to break cargo and hand over to him, but I brought my harpoon handle to bear on his figure head and he capsized, and his barker got foul of his rigging, then I roused him up and brought him along to this port.'
'Highway robbery and attempt at murder,' said the agent. 'Simpkins, you are constable, take this man in charge, while I make out his committal. Stay!' he added, 'the cage is very insecure, and this is no trifling case. You had better take him up to the castle, my lord will examine him in the morning, and there is a strong room there; meantime, Mrs. Ally will perhaps see to his wound, it looks an ugly one.'
The kind hearted landlady readily undertook this latter office, even for so repulsive a being; his head had indeed received a terrific blow, a fur cap had somewhat deadened the force or he must have been killed on the spot; she bound his head up, and in charge of the constable and two stout laborers he was marched up to the castle. The agent after warning the mariner to attend in the morning at his examination, going with them, well pleased, not only to have found the man he sought, but also to have him in such a situation that he could only choose between doing his bidding or the gallows. The boy, had never stirred from his sleep during this scene. The company at the ale house also broke up, and each wended his way home, where, no doubt, each in his own way, regaled his family with the marvels of the evening, and the seaman alone remained, eating his supper as coolly as though nothing had happened, a combat of life and death seeming to him a thing too common to excite any emotion in his breast. Had it been daylight it is not likely he would have been attacked by one man; few that gazed upon his square muscular form, his brawny chest and strong hard hands, would have liked to cope with him in personal conflict, though his iron grey beard told that more than fifty years of storm had