The Gilpins and their Fortunes | Page 3

brothers had not to inquire who they were. Their history was written on
their foreheads.
"What shall we do next?" asked Arthur.
"I should like to get out of this place as soon as possible."
"So should I, indeed," said James; "but we must go to an inn for the
night, ascertain where labour is most wanted in the interior, and how
best to find our way there."
"You and I can scarcely carry our traps any way up those streets;
perhaps one or two of those poor fellows there would like to earn a
shilling by helping us," said Arthur, beckoning to some of the
above-mentioned idlers.
The first summoned walked away without noticing them, another stared,
a third exclaimed, "Egregious snob! what can he want?" and a fourth
walked up with his fists doubled, crying out in a furious tone, "How do
you dare to make faces at me, you young scoundrel?"
"Pardon me, sir," said James, quietly; "my brother made no faces at you.
We merely thought that you might be willing to assist in carrying our
luggage."
"I assist you in carrying your luggage! A good joke! But I see you are
not quite what I took you for; and if you'll stand a nobbler or two, I
don't mind calling a porter for you, and showing you to a slap-up inn to
suit you," said the man, his manner completely changing. "You'll have
to pay the porter pretty handsomely, my new chums! People don't work
for nothing in this country."
While they were hesitating about accepting the man's offer to get a

porter, thinking that there could be no harm in that, a country lad, Sam
Green by name, who had come out as a steerage passenger with them,
approached. As soon as he saw them he ran up exclaiming--
"Oh, Master Gilpins, there's a chap been and run off wi' all my traps,
and I've not a rag left, but just what I stand in!"
Sam was, of course, glad enough to assist in carrying their luggage.
James apologised to the stranger, saying he would not trouble him.
"Not so fast, young chum!" exclaimed the man. "You promised me a
couple of nobblers, and engaged me to call a porter. I'm not going to let
you off so easily! Down with the tin, or come and stand the treat!"
The Gilpins were rather more inclined to laugh at the man than to be
angry; certainly they had no intention of paying him. Perhaps their
looks expressed this. He was becoming more and more blustering,
when a cry from several people was heard; and looking up the street, an
open carriage with a pair of horses was seen dashing down towards the
water at a furious rate. There was no coachman on the box, but that
there was some one in the carriage James discovered by seeing a shawl
fluttering from the side, and by hearing a piercing shriek, uttered
apparently as if then, for the first time, the lady had discovered the
imminence of her danger. In a few seconds the carriage would have
been dragged over the quay and into water many fathoms deep.
"Stop the horses! Fifty--a hundred--five hundred pounds to whoever
will do it!" shouted a man's voice from within.
Right and left the people were flying out of the way of the infuriated
steeds. There was not manhood enough left apparently in the idle,
dissipated-looking loiterers who were standing near. Two or three took
their hands out of their pockets and ran forward, but quickly returned as
the horses came galloping by them. The young Gilpins heard the
gentleman's offer.
"We don't want that!" cried James. "Come on, Arthur!"

They sprang towards the carriage, one on each side; and then turning,
ran in the direction it was going, grasping the head-stalls of the animals
as they passed, but allowing themselves to be carried on some way,
their weight however telling instantly on the galloping steeds.
Sam Green had remained standing by the luggage, having made up his
mind that the suspicious-looking stranger would decamp with it, if left
unguarded. When, however, he saw that the horses, in spite of his
young friends' efforts, would drag the carriage over, unless stopped, he
started up, with his hands outstretched before him, uttering with
stentorian voice a true English "Woh! woho!" and then, with an arm
from which an ox would dislike to receive a blow, he seized the heads
of the horses, already trying to stop themselves, and forced them back
from the edge stones of the quay, which they had almost reached.
Undoubtedly the horses had been broken in by a trainer from the old
country: Sam Green's "Woh! woho!" acted like magic; and the pacified
though trembling animals allowed themselves to be