The Gilpins and their Fortunes | Page 4

have nobly won the reward I promised," said the gentleman, as he lifted out his daughter, who, pale and agitated, still, by the expression of her countenance, showed the gratitude she felt.
"I am sure that my brother and I require no reward for doing our duty," answered Arthur, blushing as he spoke. "Besides, without the aid of that other lad, our fellow-passenger, we should probably have failed."
"What! I took you for labouring youths, I beg your pardon," said the gentleman, giving a glance of surprise at him.
"Our intention is to labour," said Arthur, unaffectedly.
"Ah! you have the stuff in you to command success," said the gentleman. "But I must request you to accompany me for a short distance, as my daughter prefers walking; and if I once lose sight of you in this straggling city, I may not easily find you again."
"Thank you, sir," said Arthur; "we have our luggage with us, and must go to an inn; but if you will favour me with your address, we will call on you before we leave Sydney."
While they were speaking, the coachman, in consequence of whose carelessness in letting go their heads the horses had run away, came up, and released James and Sam. Not a word of scolding was uttered--the gentleman thought a moment.
"Here, Sykes, lift that luggage into the carriage, and drive these young gentleman home; leave them there, and come back for Miss Fanny and me to the club."
In vain the young Gilpins expostulated.
"I am a determined person, and will have it so," said the gentleman.
Before they looked round, Sam had stowed away their luggage in the carriage, greatly to the disappointment of the bully, who had, it seemed, been watching for an opportunity to make off with a portion. The stranger then, almost against their will, forced them into it; and writing a few lines on the leaf of a pocket-book, gave it to the coachman. "Come, my friend, you must go in also," he added, taking Sam by the arm.
Sam drew back, and, touching his hat, exclaimed, "Noa, sir--noa, thank ye. It 'ud ne'er do for me to ride wi' the young squires; I know my place better nor that."
A mob such as Sydney, of all British ports, perhaps, can alone produce, had by this time collected round the carriage. Sam's remark produced a loud guffaw laugh from among them, and a variety of observations came rattling down on him, such as "Go it, young Touch-my-hat; the nob will pay you--he's a nigger with a white face. I wonder where he was raised? His mother was a dancing mistress--little doubt of that."
Sam's temper had been irritated from the loss of his property, which he very naturally concluded had been stolen by some of his tormentors. He now looked as if he were going to give way to his temper. Instead of so doing, however, he turned calmly round with his double fist, and said slowly, "I'll tell you what, young chaps, a man who respects himself keeps his own place, and when he meets a gentleman he'd think himself without manners nor character if he didn't touch his hat to him. Did any on ye ever see two gentlemen take off their hats to each other? Well, then, I have; and I should just like to know which was the worst man of the two? I'll say another thing--I have mostly found that when I have took my hat off to a gentleman he took his off to me; and I wonder if his friends laughed at him. But I suppose some of you are great nobs yourselves, and know all about what nobs do."
Having thus delivered himself, Sam, giving a contemptuous glance at his opponents, slowly mounted the box by the side of the coachman. The gentleman, who had walked on with his daughter, bowed to the Gilpins as they passed.
"I am afraid that, from taking us to be ploughboys, he now believes we are young noblemen in disguise," observed Arthur. "This is a very different style to that in which we could have expected to have entered Sydney half an hour ago."
"Perhaps he thinks more of the service we have rendered him than we should," answered his brother; "however, it's a curious adventure, certainly."
"Well, muster, there be rum jokes in this town o' yours," observed Sam to the coachman, after keeping silence for some time.
"There be, young man," was the laconic answer; "and rum things done."
In this Sam agreed, informing Mr Sykes--for this, he ascertained, was the coachman's name--how he had lost his property.
"Be thou the young man who stopped the 'osses?" inquired Sykes.
"The young squires did it, and I helped 'em," said Sam.
"And saved my bacon," observed Sykes.
"I say, Muster Sykes, what's the gen'l'man's name?" asked Sam, discovering, perhaps, by the tone of