The Poacher | Page 3

a drop of
small beer, Mr Furness?"
"Yes, if you please, and so will Mr Byres, too. What a pity it is your
good man will not keep to small beer."
"Yes, indeed," replied the wife, who went into the back premises, and
soon returned with a quart mug of beer.
The schoolmaster emptied half the mug, and then handed it to the
pedlar.
"And my little friend Joey, fast asleep, I'll warrant!"
"Yes, poor child, and so should I have been by this time; the clock has
gone twelve."
"Well, Mrs Rushbrook, I wish you a good night. Come, Mr Byres, Mrs
Rushbrook must want to be in bed."
"Good night, Mr Furness, and good night, sir, and many thanks."
The schoolmaster and pedlar quitted the cottage. Mrs Rushbrook, after
having watched them for a minute, carefully closed the door.

"They're gone now," said she, as she turned to her husband.
What would have created much astonishment could anybody else have
witnessed it, as soon as his wife had spoken, Rushbrook immediately
sprang upon his feet, a fine-looking man, six feet in height, very erect
in his bearing,--and proved to be perfectly sober.
"Jane, my dear," said he, "there never was such a night: but I must be
quick, and lose no time. Is my gun ready?"
"Everything's ready; Joey is lying down on his bed, but all ready
dressed, and he awakes in a minute."
"Call him, then, for there is no time to lose. That drunken fool, Furness,
proposed throwing me over the bridge. It was lucky for them that they
did not try it, or I should have been obliged to settle them both, that
they might tell no tales. Where's Mum?"
"In the wash-house. I'll bring him and Joey directly."
The wife left the room, while Rushbrook took down his gun and
ammunition, and prepared himself for his expedition. In a minute or
two a shepherd's dog, which had been released from the wash-house,
made his appearance, and quietly lay down close to his master's feet; it
was soon followed by Mrs Rushbrook, accompanied by Joey, a thin,
meagre-looking boy, of about twelve years old, very small for his age,
but apparently as active as a cat, and with energy corresponding. No
one would have thought he had been roused from his sleep; there was
no yawning or weariness of motion--on the contrary, his large eye was
as bright as an eagle's, as he quietly, although quickly, provided himself
with a sack, which he threw over his shoulders, and a coil of line,
which he held in his hand, waiting until his father was ready to start.
The wife put out the lights, softly opened the cottage-door, looked well
round, and then returned to her husband, who, giving a low whistle, as
a summons to Joey and the dog, walked out of the door. Not a word
was spoken; the door was softly shut to; and the trio crept stealthily
away.

CHAPTER TWO.
IN WHICH THE HERO OF THE TALE IS FORMALLY
INTRODUCED.
Before we proceed with our narrative, perhaps it will be better to
explain what may appear very strange to the reader. Joseph Rushbrook,
who has just left the cottage with his son and his dog, was born in the
village in which he was then residing. During his younger days, some
forty years previous to his present introduction to the reader, the law
was not so severe, or the measures taken against poachers so strong as
they were at the period of which we write. In his youth he had been
very fond of carrying a gun--as his father had been before him--but he
never was discovered; and after having poached for many years, and
gained a perfect knowledge of the country for miles round, he was
persuaded, in a fit of semi-intoxication, at a neighbouring fair, to enlist
in a marching regiment. He had not been more than three months at the
depot when he was ordered out to India, where he remained eleven
years before he was recalled. He had scarcely been six months in
England, when the exigency of the war demanded the services of the
regiment in the Mediterranean, where he remained for twelve years,
and having received a severe wound in the head, he was then pensioned
off and discharged. He resolved to return to his native village, and
settle down quietly, hoping by moderate labour and his pension, to gain
a comfortable living. On his return he was hardly known; many had
emigrated to a foreign clime; many had been transported for offences
against the laws, particularly for the offence of poaching: and as most
of his former allies had been so employed, he found himself almost a
stranger where he expected to meet with friends. The property