The Poacher | Page 9

of
Rushbrook by the arms, and, shaking him to rouse him as much as they
could, they led him home to the cottage, and left him in charge of his
wife. As soon as the door was closed, Rushbrook's long-repressed
anger could no longer be restrained: he started on his feet, and striking
his fist on the table so as to terrify his wife, swore that the pedlar
should pay dear for his peaching. Upon his wife's demanding an
explanation, Rushbrook, in a few hurried sentences, explained the
whole. Jane, however she might agree with him in his indignation, like
all women, shuddered at the thought of shedding blood. She persuaded
her husband to go to bed. He consented; but he slept not: he had but
one feeling, which was vengeance towards the traitor. When revenge
enters into the breast of a man who has lived peaceably at home,
fiercely as he may be impelled by the passion, he stops short at the idea
of shedding blood. But when a man who had, like Rushbrook, served
so long in the army, witnessed such scenes of carnage, and so often
passed his bayonet through his adversary's body, is roused up by this
fatal passion, the death of a fellow-creature becomes a matter of
indifference, provided he can gratify his feelings. Thus it was with
Rushbrook, who, before he rose on the morning of that Sabbath in
which, had he gone to church, he could have so often requested his
trespasses might be forgiven, as he "forgave them who trespassed
against him," had made up his mind that nothing short of the pedlar's
death would satisfy him. At breakfast he appeared to listen to his wife's
entreaties, and promised to do the pedlar no harm; and told her that,
instead of going out on the Monday night, as he had promised, he
should go out on that very night, and by that means evade the snare laid
for him. Jane persuaded him not to go out at all; but this Rushbrook
would not consent to. He told her that he was determined to show them
that he was not to be driven off his beat, and would make Byres believe

on Tuesday night that he had been out on the Monday night.
Rushbrook's object was to have a meeting with Byres, if possible, alone,
to tax him with his treachery, and then to take summary vengeance.
Aware that Byres slept at the ale-house, he went down there a little
before dark, and told him that he intended going out on that night; that
it would be better if, instead of coming on Tuesday, he were to meet
him at the corner of one of the covers, which he described, at an hour
agreed upon, when he would make over to him the game which he
might have procured. Byres, who saw in this an excellent method of
trapping Rushbrook, consented to it, intending to inform the keeper, so
that he should meet Rushbrook. The time of meeting was arranged for
two o'clock in the morning. Rushbrook was certain that Byres would
leave the ale-house an hour or two before the time proposed, which
would be more than sufficient for his giving information to the keeper.
He therefore remained quietly at home till twelve o'clock, when he
loaded his gun, and went out without Joey or the dog. His wife
perceiving this, was convinced that he had not gone out with the
intention to poach, but was pursuing his scheme of revenge. She
watched him after he left the cottage, and observed that he had gone
down in the direction of the ale-house; and she was afraid that there
would be mischief between him and Byres, and she wakened Joey,
desiring him to follow and watch his father, and do all he could to
prevent it. Her communication was made in such a hurried manner, that
it was difficult for Joey to know what he was to do, except to watch his
father's motions, and see what took place. This Joey perfectly
understood; and he was off in an instant, followed, as usual, by Mum,
and taking with him his sack. Our hero crept softly down the pathway,
in the direction of the ale-house. The night was dark, for the moon did
not rise till two or three hours before the morning broke, and it was
bitterly cold: but to darkness and cold Joey had been accustomed, and
although not seen himself; there was no object could move without
being scanned by his clear vision. He gained a hedge close to the
ale-house. Mum wanted to go on, by which Joey knew that his father
must be lurking somewhere near to him: he pressed the dog down with
his hand, crouched himself; and watched.