a sudden rush was made by the whole party to the spot, but nothing was discoverable by their minutest observation-the object of their admiration, the being who has been introduced to our readers as Boots, was no where to be found; the marks of horses' hoofs were recent upon the muddy roadbut no one of the guests had perceived the departure of the stranger, whose voice they had heard. At last, round an angle of the wall, to which the light from the window of the tap-room did not penetrate, they saw a sight that froze their blood with horror. With folded arms, and head proudly elevated to the starless sky, they recognised the figure of a man-at his feet lay something-a black moveless object, so soiled with mud, that at first it seemed only an inequality in the soil. But one of the assistants, on putting his hand on it, found beneath his touch the lineaments of a human face-he shrieked with horror-a candle was brought, and held over the countenance thus discovered. It was ghastly pale, and deeply streaked with blood. Murderer!" said one of the farmers, and laid his hand on the shoulder of the still motionless Boots. 1. He shook not-looked not-moved not "Come!-to prison with him!" One stagger forward-then a reel to one side a faint groan, and the individual thus addressed fell senseless on the wet and slippery ground. The Meeting-The Struggle. CHAPTER II.-The Recognition It was with a bright rejoicing lullaby of buds and flowers, and sunbeams opening on the dewy lawn, that morning-fresh from the slumbers of eternity-arose next day at a very early hour. But the piercing light penetrating through the shattered window-shutters of the small kitchen of the Brindled Bullock, had no other effect on the group assembled round the table than to remind them that as their time for enjoyment was drawing to a close, they had better make the most of it. The great brown can was accordingly replenished without more delay, and a young man, with a severe recent wound on his forehead, whose pale and emaciated, but still noble and intellectual features, bore evidence to the effects of his libations, struck up the following song Ye jolly pads, ye nimming coves, attend unto my lay, The deeds I sing of bold Bob King, who clyed the shimming fay,* Both calf-skinn'd in the mackerel sauce,§ and so the thread was wound; I'll hug the post or cross the pond, but curse me if I peach. 2. It was one morn to take the air he mounts his gallant brown, Then mizzle, boys, &c. &c. It chanced a grazier he o'ertook, his pockets fill'd with gold, * Practised the thieving profession. † Mother's neck with hemp was stretched. His father was hanged. S" Calf-skinn'd in the mackerel sauce."-At the time of the plague of London, the prisoners' dock was covered with fennel, (the usual accompaniment of mackerel,) to prevent infection, and the custom has been continued ever since. "Calf-skinn'd" sworn against by kissing the testament. Be hanged, or transported. North-west of Horsleydown-Bagshot Heath. ** Pistols. †† Dagger. The nag you ride lifts well and fast, I'd like to try his pace, I'll bet a crown my trusty brown shall beat him in a race. "Done!" says the grazier-" Done!" says Bob, and then he made his speech, I'll hug the post or cross the pond, but curse me if I peach. Then mizzle, boys, &c. &c. 4. "But hold," says Bob, "we'll do it square; my horse has won a plate, And therefore it will not be fair unless he carries weight; So hand me out your canvass bags, I'll ease you of the load; I scorn to take advantage of a friend upon the road. Come hand them out, be quick, be quick!" and then he made his speech, Then mizzle, boys, &c. &c. 5. The grazier he was stout and bold, and a sturdy "No" he said, While the applause with which this effusion was received shook the rafters of the apartment, a person, in whom it was easy to recognise the Boots of the preceding evening, whispered in a thrilling tone in the ear of the singer "So you came last night?" "I saw you round the corner of the stable, and knocked you into a swound." "Into a puddle you would say, ha! ha! ha!" "Laugh not—you know not me— -I have somewhat to tell you." "Tell me now." "No-sufficient that I know youTheodore!" "Ha! who calls? Who are you? Where have we met?" exclaimed the young man, starting up. "Rest quiet," resumed the other in the same thrilling whisper as before; "knowest thou the gibbet on the blasted heath?" "I do." "There! to-night, as the moon crosses the blue arch of midnight. Fail not"-and again, he added, with a look in which the essence of impenetrability was powerfully developed "Theodore! Who was he? by what means had he gained possession of what was evidently a profound secret? What use would he make of his knowledge? The young man held down his head while cogitating over these and other similar enquiries. When he raised his eyes to where the mysterious being had stood, he was gone! "Did any of you see him?" cried the young man. "Who is he? what is his name?" "Whom do you mean?" answered a chorus of voices. "The man who was here beside me this moment, with light-green eyes, blue lips, white whiskers, and red mustaches." "Why, you must mean the Bootshim that brought in the beer just now." "Ay, but his name? where does he come from?" still farther enquired the singer. "That we know not," replied the other, who indeed was no other than Jeremiah Buggles, the jovial landlord of the Brindled Bullock himself. "He sometimes speaks as if he were of Yorkshire or Devonshire by birth; but we never enquired the exact site of his parentage. His name, however, is a common one, Methuselah Gubb" "Methuselah!" muttered the young man in a disappointed tone; "Methuselah-Gubb-I never heard it before! strange, very strange!" and gradually he withdrew himself from the circle, and seemed absorbed in his own thoughts. It is a strange fact, and to the philosophic enquirer presents food for serious reflection, that by some strange concatenation of events, night almost always follows closely upon day. Not so surely does winter follow spring, or summer melt mellifluously into the softening dawn of autumn, than gaudy day lays down his garish length in the broad lap of our great mother night. The bright and twinkling stars that overhead hold silent revelry, and through that field (so deeply blue, so calm, and beautiful) whirl their free courses like some heaven-born steeds through the ethereal pastures of the sky-these-the eternal candles burning on-on-on through countless ages these outshine the gaudicst gala night of poor Vauxhall! they do indeed; and it was with some such sentiments as these floating through his brain, that the young man, whom we shall now, for the sake of perspi cuity, call Theodore, pursued his way across the heath that lay about two miles to the north-east of the Brindled Bullock. "This man certainly knows me," he said; "he knows my name, or, at least, one of the appellations I have worn— and when"- he gnashed his teeth as he spoke, and, as if afraid of continuing the train of remembrance into which his thoughts had fallen, he commenced whistling Lillibullero. But it was ineffectual. "When I called myself Theodore, there was still something good and pure remaining in my disposition. If I did wrong, I repented; if I robbed, I was sorry; but murder!-ha! murder!" and again he whistled Lillibullero. "How beautiful she was !" he continued, " and how true and trusting! Well, well! her beauty would have been on the wane by this time, for it is ten years ago, and she was just nineteen. At nine and-twenty they are on the wrong side of the hedge. Hallo! who goes there?" "A friend-good-night." "Good-night-you can tell me how far it is to the gibbet?" "Yes-I thought from your voice you were on your way to the gallows," said the man, who was dressed in a waggoner's smock frock; "and you see I wasn't very far out-about a quarter of a mile-a little to the right. Keep off the main road, which you will be sure to know by the rumbling of our caravans. We are carrying the menagerie to Bristol fair, and I have stept on a bit in front, to procure lodging at the next inn.". With thanks on the part of Theodore, and an exchange of good-night, they parted. "That fellow seems a wit, by his talk about the gallows," muttered Theodore. "I've known the time, when, for half the provocation, his brains would have spoilt my cudgel." Cutting across as directed, he soon saw the object of his search-a plain black beam dimly relieved against the now murky sky-but no one near. "He has deceived me-this Methuselah Gubb-and, if so," he added, with a grim smile, while he touched the point of a concealed dagger, "I'm afraid he won't live half so long as his namesake." "This, then," he said after a pause, laying his hand on the upright post"is the personified majesty of the law the recording angel of our Acts of Parliament-a timber Thetis-a" "'Tis the gallows!" said a voice, and Methuselah Gubb stood before him. "Well, to business!" exclaimed Theodore-" be sharp, or "Or what?" almost howled Methuselah, looking closely into his face. "Why, time's precious, that's all," replied Theodore" you invited me to meet you here-I have accepted your invitation—say on” "Are you prepared to hear me? for there are words that would try the boldest and I know them." "What are they? I can hear them -speak." They are three-Theodore, one -aunt, two-and murder, thrce. Have you kept count?" "You should have bethought you of pistol, four," cried Theodore, drawing a small blunderbuss, and cocking it in Methuselah's face-" you are a dead man, click!" But ere the trigger had time to be drawn, the muzzle was seized by the infuriated Methuselah, and a dreadful struggle ensued. Both men were young and powerful, and life was the prize of the victor. The moon shed a grey and watery light upon the scene -not a breath was stirring, and all that broke the solemnity of that desolate heath and breathless midnight, were the frantic struggles of two deɛperate men. Writhing their bodies in every variety of fantastic attitude, with the one grand overmastering feeling of intense hatred swelling their hearts, they seemed to take note of nothing but the deep strife that devoured them. Victory sometimes inclined to the one, sometimes to the other-once Methuselah was forced upon one knee; at another time, he had secured his antagonist's head beneath his shoulder; but while they were in this lifeand-death struggle, a circumstance occurred which put an end to the engagement, and turned their thoughts into another channel. CHAPTER III.-The Course of the Wild Beasts-The Struggle-The End. "Stop!" cried Theodore, ". something approaches us." And, in truth, there came upon the night-wind the baying of some animal proceeding at a furious rate, exactly in the direction of where they stood. The combat ants paused and listened. They heard distinctly a loud impetuous breathing, mingled, at intervals, with a sort of subdued growl; but their ears could not catch the footfall of the animal that produced it, nor could their eyes perceive the slightest motion in all that illimitable expanse of bare and motionless heath. Nearer the sound came, and nearer. The two men retired behind the huge support of the gibbet, and waited in anxious expectation. At length, on the summit of a gradual swell of the moor, they detected the furious pace of some darkened object, on which the struggling moonbeams threw a ghastly uncertain light, and in an instant Theodore had climbed to the vacant arm of the gallows, exclaiming, "It is a tiger!" Methuselah moved not; and the animal thus indicated, scoured noiselessly and rapidly by, within a few feet of where he had stationed himself. Suddenly, from the top of the gallows, Theodore exclaimed, in a whisper, "A bear, a bear!" And with its wild unwieldy trot, but still progressing at a prodigious pace, came on an enormous black bear, beating its tusks together, as if in expectation of a fight, and from time to time turning its red eyes in all directions, but never for a moment relaxing its speed. A hyena, a jackal, and a jaguar next flew past in ghostlike silence; and then there burst forth, amid the stillness of the night, a roar so loud, so fierce, and so thunderous in its sound, that Methuselah started, for it came apparently from his immediate vicinity. "Ha! a lion!" whispered Theodore; "climb up hither, or you are a dead man." "Never!" exclaimed the other, and wajted patiently in his place. But it was soon evident that the roar had been productive of some remarkable effects; for, from the extreme distance, sounded back a shrill cry, as if of defiance, and in a moment, breasting the upward heath, the stealthy step of the tiger that had formerly passed was recognised on its impetuous return. When it reached the gibbet it paused, and casting its eyes to the summit, fixed them instantaneously on the pale face of Theodore. It sat down and wagged its tail with slow circular movements, uttering short disjointed howls. Theodore, though in a state of intense alarm, did not lose his presence of mind. He pulled out the pistol which he had carried with him, and pointed it at the savage's head. But ere he had time to fire, Methuselah cried "Hush!-fire not!-the lion! the lion!" In less time than it takes to write these words, the lion had dashed forward, and, growling, tearing, and foaming, had thrown himself on the tiger, which resisted with a fierceness to be expected from its strength and courage. Methuselah climbed to the other arm of the gallows, to witness the combat more at his case; and coming unexpectedly close to his antagonist, seized the pistol from his hand, and laughed with a grim satisfaction when he saw the powerlessness of his victim. The battle that raged so fiercely below, seemed by sympathy to excite the bloodthirsty passions of the men. Rolling on the heath, which flew up beneath their paws, as they tumbled and struggled in their untameable fury, the tiger and the lion waged an unceasing tight. With teeth and claws-with high bounds over each other, and long fierce embraces, they sought each other's life-while above, on that most appropriate floor for the display of inhuman passions, the two men entered into a struggle as fierce and desperate. "You don't remember me, then?" said Methuselah. "No." "Then I will refresh your memory.. You recollect your aunt ?" Theodore started, and shook in every limb. "I saw you do it! the knife flashed in my eyes-her blood flowed before me. I loved her-would have married her;-but you-parricide! wretch murderer-I have found you at last-I have traced you ever since. I might have delivered you to the law, as I did your accomplice""Ha!" exclaimed Theodore; "did she suffer?" "Yes; your sweet Nancy; that beautiful young creature that trusted you till you betrayed her; that followed you till you made her cruel and guilty as yourself; that watched at the door on the night of the murder! I watched her, followed her, seized her, and, while you were absent for two years in a foreign country-and even there I had my eyes on you-I prosecuted her. She was condemned-she was hung in chains-you rest upon her now! Ha! ha! ha!" Theodore shrunk in horror from the arm of the gallows; and, on looking down, saw the remains of a human skeleton, of which the bones, in many places, were held together by the iron chains which dangled from above. "You loved my aunt," he whispered. "I-did-not-knowI". "Is she not beautiful?" continued Methuselah, not attending to the interruption. "See, there are her cherry lips they were white with fear on the morning of her execution. This was her swanlike neck, so white and marblelike! Why don't you put your arm round it? And her shoulders they used to be plump and beautiful-won't you stoop and kiss them, Theodore? Ha! ha! ha!But come! 'tis time-wretch, that slew the loveliest woman the world contained!--murderer, that ruined the purest and most innocent! slave, that tremblest now that punishment has overtaken thee !-Die!" His grasp was on Theodore's shoulder-there was no resistancepassive, yielding, thunderstruck-it needed no effort or exertion to push him from his place. Without a word, without a motion, down, down he fell. The contending animals with a wild roar parted for a moment, and closed instantaneously on the prostrate body. Life must have been extinct before he touched the ground, for not the slightest movement gave evidence of consciousness on the part of the miserable man. "Revenge! revenge! Ha, sainted Miss M'Gregor! I've executed the vow of vengeance I took when I saw the dagger of your nephew at your throat-I have satisfied the longings of my heart for many years. The executioners of my wrath are howl. ing over their prey! the messengers of my fury have come from their homes in the burning desert!" "You lie !" cried a hoarse voice, as Methuselah, swaying his arms about, was uttering these exclamations, agitated with the fury of an ancient Pythoness; "you lie! they've escaped from our menagerie-lend us a hand-so Nero! so, so, poor fellow!" The man, as he said this, advanced to where the animals, at the sound of his voice, had lifted up their gory heads, and were apparently listening. He then added, as if the force of custom were too strong to be resisted, "This here is the werry tiger that had a encounter in Africa, in the West Ingies, with Mr Dinlop. His name's the famous Tippoo. Vy don't ye come down and help, master? bless ye, they're as mild as milk; they would not hurt a infant." The man looked up at the gallows, but received no answer. The motions of Methuselah had ceased. He sat rigid as a block carved out of eternity! Others of the persons connected with the menagerie, now came up, the lion and the tiger with some difficulty were got into their cages, and then the principal man of the party climbed up to where Methuselah was seated. "Vell," asked one of his companions, "can't you get the genleman to move?" No answer. "Vy don't he speak?" "He can't," said the man in a deeply agitated voice. Vy can't he? vot's the matter with him?" "'Cause he's valk'd!" replied the other, sliding down the post: and true enough, the perturbed spirit of Methuselah had fled in the agitation of that morning from its tenement of clay. Next morning, when the grey sunbeams threw an unsteady verdure over the scene, the heath was parched and desolate as before; the gibbet still reared its appalling shadow over the plain, and at its foot were the fragments of the guilty Theodore, and coiled on one of its projecting arms, stiff, stark, and pallid, sat the motionless body of Methuselah. He was dead! |