“And what course do you mean to pursue?” asked Jack, “for I suppose you do not expect to catch this ’ought-to-lick-us,’ as you call him, by a line in the newspapers.”
“I am in the habit of keeping my own counsel, sir,” replied Coates, pettishly; “and to be plain with you, I hope to finger all the reward myself.”
“Oons, is there a reward offered for Turpin’s apprehension?” asked Titus.
“No less than two hundred pounds,” answered Coates, “and that’s no trifle, as you will both admit. Have you not seen the king’s proclamation, Mr. Palmer?”
“Not I,” replied Jack, with affected indifference.
“Nor I,” added Titus, with some appearance of curiosity; “do you happen to have that by you too?”
“I always carry it about with me,” replied Coates, “that I may refer to it in case of emergency. My father, Christopher, or Kit Coates, as he was familiarly called, was a celebrated thief-taker. He apprehended Spicket, and Child, and half a dozen others, and always kept their descriptions in his pocket. I endeavor to tread in my worthy father’s footsteps. I hope to signalize myself by capturing a highwayman. By-the-by,” added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, “it occurs to me that Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?”
“Like me,” said Jack, regarding Coates askance; “like me — how am I to understand you, sir, eh?”
“No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won’t object to my comparing the description. That can do no harm. Nobody would take you for a highwayman — nobody whatever — ha! ha! Singular resemblance — he — he. These things do happen sometimes: not very often, though. But here is Turpin’s description in the Gazette, June 28th, A.D. 1737:—’It having been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on Wednesday, the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty’s highway Vavasour Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers‘— that Major Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the late Sir Piers, and cousin of the present baronet —’and commit other notorious felonies and robberies near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon to any of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to any person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended and convicted.’”
“Odsbodikins!” exclaimed Titus, “a noble reward! I should like to lay hands upon Turpin,” added he, slapping Palmer’s shoulder: “I wish he were in your place at this moment, Jack.”
“Thank you!” replied Palmer, shifting his chair.
“’Turpin,’” continued Coates, “’was born at Thacksted, in Essex; is about thirty‘— you, sir, I believe, are about thirty?” added he, addressing Palmer.
“Thereabouts,” said Jack, bluffly. “But what has my age to do with that of Turpin?”
“Nothing — nothing at all,” answered Coates; “suffer me, however, to proceed:—’Is by trade a butcher,’— you, sir, I believe, never had any dealings in that line?”
“I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf,” returned Jack. “But Turpin, though described as a butcher, is, I understand, a lineal descendant of a great French archbishop of the same name.”
“Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; I know him,” replied Coates —“a terrible liar! — The modern Turpin ’is about five feet nine inches high‘— exactly your height, sir — exactly!”
“I am five feet ten,” answered Jack, standing bolt upright.
“You have an inch, then, in your favor,” returned the unperturbed attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination —”’he has a brown complexion, marked with the smallpox.’”
“My complexion is florid — my face without a seam,” quoth Jack.
“Those whiskers would conceal anything,” replied Coates, with a grin. “Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a highwayman.”
“Sir!” said Jack, sternly. “You are personal.”
“I don’t mean to be so,” replied Coates; “but you must allow the description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. Hear me out, however —’his cheek bones are broad — his face is thinner towards the bottom — his visage short — pretty upright — and broad about the shoulders.’ Now I appeal to Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound like a portrait of yourself.”
“Don’t appeal to me,” said Titus, hastily, “upon such a delicate point. I can’t say that I approve of a gentleman being likened to a highwayman. But if ever there was a highwayman I’d wish to resemble, it’s either Redmond O’Hanlon or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know which of the two is the greater rascal!”
“Well, Mr. Palmer,” said Coates, “I repeat, I mean no offence. Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be like my Lord North; whether I am or not, the Lord knows. But if ever I meet with Turpin I shall bear you in mind — he — he! Ah! if ever I should have the good luck to stumble upon him, I’ve a plan for his capture which couldn’t fail. Only let me get a glimpse of him, that’s all. You shall see how I’ll dispose of him.”
“Well, sir, we shall see,” observed Palmer. “And for your own sake, I wish you may never be nearer to him than you are at this moment. With his friends, they say Dick Turpin can be as gentle as a lamb; with his foes, especially with a limb of the law like yourself, he’s been found but an ugly customer. I once saw him at Newmarket, where he was collared by two constable culls, one on each side. Shaking off one, and dealing the other a blow in the face with his heavy-handled whip, he stuck spurs into his mare, and though the whole field gave chase, he distanced them all, easily.”
“And how came you not to try your pace with him, if you were there, as you boasted a short time ago?” asked Coates.
“So I did, and stuck closer to him than any one else. We were neck and neck. I was the only person who could have delivered him to the hands of justice, if I’d felt inclined.”
“Zounds!” cried Coates; “If I had a similar opportunity, it should be neck or nothing. Either he or I should reach the scragging-post first. I’d take him, dead or alive.”
“You take Turpin?” cried Jack, with a sneer.
“I’d engage to do it,” replied Coates. “I’ll bet you a hundred guineas I take him, if I ever have the same chance.”
“Done!” exclaimed Jack, rapping the table at the same time, so that the glasses danced upon it.
“That’s right,” cried Titus. “I’ll go you halves.”
“What’s the matter — what’s the matter?” exclaimed Small, awakened from his doze.
“Only a trifling bet about a highwayman,” replied Titus.
“A highwayman!” echoed Small. “Eh! what? there are none in the house, I hope.”
“I hope not,” answered Coates. “But this gentleman has taken up the defence of the notorious Dick Turpin in so singular a manner, that ——”
“Quod factu fœdum est, idem est et Dictu Turpe,” returned Small. “The less said about that rascal the better.”
“So I think,” replied Jack. “The fact is as you say, sir — were Dick here, he would, I am sure, take the freedom to hide ’em.”
Further discourse was cut short by the sudden opening of the door, followed by the abrupt entrance of a tall, slender young man, who hastily advanced towards the table, around which the company were seated. His appearance excited the