The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves | Page 8

into a chair, and supported by
the landlady for that purpose; but he had not as yet given any sign of
having retrieved the use of his senses. And here Mr. Fillet could not
help contemplating, with surprise, the strange figure and accoutrements

of his patient, who seemed in age to be turned of fifty. His stature was
below the middle size; he was thick, squat, and brawny, with a small
protuberance on one shoulder, and a prominent belly, which, in
consequence of the water he had swallowed, now strutted beyond its
usual dimensions. His forehead was remarkably convex, and so very
low, that his black bushy hair descended within an inch of his nose; but
this did not conceal the wrinkles of his front, which were manifold. His
small glimmering eyes resembled those of the Hampshire porker, that
turns up the soil with his projecting snout. His cheeks were shrivelled
and puckered at the corners, like the seams of a regimental coat as it
comes from the hands of the contractor. His nose bore a strong analogy
in shape to a tennis-ball, and in colour to a mulberry; for all the water
of the river had not been able to quench the natural fire of that feature.
His upper jaw was furnished with two long white sharp-pointed teeth or
fangs, such as the reader may have observed in the chaps of a wolf, or
full-grown mastiff, and an anatomist would describe as a preternatural
elongation of the dentes canini. His chin was so long, so peaked, and
incurvated, as to form in profile, with his impending forehead, the exact
resemblance of a moon in the first quarter. With respect to his equipage,
he had a leathern cap upon his head, faced like those worn by marines,
and exhibiting in embroidery, the figure of a crescent. His coat was of
white cloth, faced with black, and cut in a very antique fashion; and, in
lieu of a waistcoat, he wore a buff jerkin. His feet were cased with
loose buskins, which, though they rose almost to his knee, could not
hide that curvature, known by the appellation of bandy legs. A large
string of bandaliers garnished a broad belt that graced his shoulders,
from whence depended an instrument of war, which was something
between a back-sword and a cutlass; and a case of pistols were stuck in
his girdle.
Such was the figure which the whole company now surveyed with
admiration. After some pause, he seemed to recover his recollection.
He rolled about his eyes around, and, attentively surveying every
individual, exclaimed, in a strange tone, "Bodikins! where's Gilbert?"
This interrogation did not savour much of sanity, especially when
accompanied with a wild stare, which is generally interpreted as a sure
sign of a disturbed understanding. Nevertheless, the surgeon

endeavoured to assist his recollection. "Come," said he, "have a good
heart.--How dost do, friend?" "Do!" replied the squire, "do as well as I
can.--That's a lie too; I might have done better. I had no business to be
here." "You ought to thank God and your master," resumed the surgeon,
"for the providential escape you have had." "Thank my master!" cried
the squire, "thank the devil! Go and teach your grannum to crack
filberds. I know who I'm bound to pray for, and who I ought to curse
the longest day I have to live."
Here the captain interposing, "Nay, brother," said he, "you are bound to
pray for this here gentleman as your sheet-anchor; for, if so be as he
had not cleared your stowage of the water you had taken in at your
upper works, and lightened your veins, d'ye see, by taking away some
of your blood, adad! you had driven before the gale, and never been
brought up in this world again, d'ye see." "What, then you would
persuade me," replied the patient, "that the only way to save my life
was to shed my precious blood? Look ye, friend, it shall not be lost
blood to me.--I take you all to witness, that there surgeon, or
apothecary, or farrier, or dog-doctor, or whatsoever he may be, has
robbed me of the balsam of life.--He has not left so much blood in my
body as would fatten a starved flea.--O! that there was a lawyer here to
serve him with a siserari."
Then fixing his eyes upon Ferret, he proceeded: "An't you a limb of the
law, friend?--No, I cry you mercy, you look more like a showman or a
conjurer."--Ferret, nettled at this address, answered, "It would be well
for you, that I could conjure a little common sense into that numskull of
yours." "If I want that commodity," rejoined the squire, "I must go to
another market, I trow.--You legerdemain men be more like to conjure