The Broad Highway

"Which I says--Lord love me!"

I plunged the iron back into the fire, and, turning my head,

espied a figure standing in the doorway; and, though the leather

hat and short, round jacket had been superseded by a smart

groom's livery, I recognized the Postilion.

"So 'elp me, Bob, if this ain't a piece o' luck!" he exclaimed,

and, with the words, he removed his hat and fell to combing his

short, thick hair with the handle of his whip.

"I'm glad you think so," said I.

"You can drownd me if it ain't!" said he.

"And, pray, how is the gentleman who--happened to fall and hurt

himself, if you remember--in the storm?"

"'Appened to fall an' 'urt 'isself?" repeated the Postilion,

winking knowingly, "'urt 'isself,' says you 'Walker!' says I,

'Walker!'" with which he laid his forefinger against the side of

his nose and winked again.

"What might you be pleased to mean?"

"I means as a gent 'appenin' to fall in the dark may p'r'aps cut

'is 'ead open--but 'e don't give 'isself two black eyes, a bloody

nose, a split lip, an' three broken ribs, all at once--it ain't

nat'ral, w'ich if you says contrairy, I remarks--'Walker!' Lord!"

continued the Postilion, seeing I did not speak, "Lord! it must

'a' been a pretty warm go while it lasted--you put 'im to sleep

sound enough; it took me over a hour to Tonbridge, an' 'e never

moved till 'e'd been put to bed at 'The Chequers' an' a doctor

sent for. Ah! an' a nice time I 'ad of it, what wi' chamber-maids

a-runnin' up an' down stairs to see the 'poor gentleman,' an'

everybody a-starin' at me, an' a-shakin' their 'eads, an' all

a-axin' questions, one atop o' the other, till the doctor come.

"Ow did this 'appen, me man?' says 'e. 'A haccident!' says I.

'A haccident?' says the doctor, wi' a look in 'is eye as I didn't

just like. 'Ah!' says I, 'fell on 'is 'ead--out o' the chaise,'

says I, 'struck a stone, or summ'at,' says I. 'Did 'e fall of

'is own accord?' says the doctor. 'Ah, for sure!' says I.

'Humph!' says the doctor, 'what wi' 'is eyes, an' 'is nose, an'

'is lip, looks to me as if some one 'ad 'elped 'im.' 'Then you

must be a dam' fool!' says a voice, an' there's my gentleman

--Number One, you know, a-sittin' up in bed an' doin' 'is 'ardest

to frown. 'Sir?' says the doctor. 'Sir! to you,' says my

gentleman, 'this honest fellow tells the truth. I did fall out

o' the accursed chaise--an' be damned to you!' says 'e. 'Don't

excite yourself,' says the doctor; 'in your present condition it

would be dangerous.' 'Then be so good as to go to the devil!'

says my gentleman. 'I will!' says the doctor, an' off 'e goes.

'Hi, there, you,' says my gentleman, callin' to me as soon as we

were alone, 'this accursed business 'as played the devil with me,

an' I need a servant. 'Ow much do you want to stay wi' me?'

'Twenty-five shillin' a week,' says I, doin' myself proud while I

'ad the chance. 'I'll give ye thirty,' says 'e; 'wot's ye name?'

'Jacob Trimble, sir,' says I. 'An' a most accursed name it is!

--I'll call you Parks,' says 'e, 'an' when I ring let no one answer

but yourself. You can go, Parks--an', Parks--get me another

doctor.' Well," pursued the Postilion, seating himself near by,

"we'd been there a couple o' weeks, an' though 'e was better, an'

'is face near well again, 'e still kept to 'is room, when, one

day, a smart phaeton an' blood 'osses drives up, an' out steps a

fine gentleman--one o' them pale, sleepy sort. I was a-standin'

in the yard, brushin' my master's coat--a bottle-green wi' silver

buttons, each button 'avin' what they calls a monneygram stamped

onto it. 'Ha, me man!' says the sleepy gent, steppin' up to me,

'a fine coat--doocid fashionable cut, curse me!--your master's?'

'Yes, sir,' says I, brushin' away. 'Silver buttons too!' says

the gent, 'let me see--ah yes!--a V, yes, to be sure--'ave the

goodness to step to your master an' say as a gentleman begs to

see 'im.' 'Can't be done, sir,' says I; 'me master ain't seein'

nobody, bein' in indifferent 'ealth.' 'Nonsense!' says the

gentleman, yawnin' an' slippin' a guinea into me 'and. 'Just

run, like a good feller, an' tell 'im as I bear a message from

George!' 'From 'oo?' says I. 'From George,' says the gent,

smilin' an' yawnin'--'just say from George.' So, to come to the

end of it, up I goes, an' finds me master walkin' up an' down an'

aswearin' to 'isself as usual. 'A gentleman to see you, sir,'

says I. 'Why, devil burn your miserable carcass!' say 'e,

'didn't I tell you as I'd see nobody?' 'Ay, but this 'ere gent's

a-sayin' 'e 'as a message from George, sir.' My master raised

both clenched fists above 'is 'ead an' swore--ah! better than I'd

heard for many a long day. 'Ows'ever, downstairs 'e goes,

cursin' on every stair. In a time 'e comes back. 'Parks,' says

'e, 'do you remember that--that place where we got lost--in the

storm, Parks?' 'Ah, sir,' says I. 'Well, go there at once,'

says 'e,' an','--well--'e give me certain orders--jumps into the

phaeton wi' the sleepy gentleman, an' they drive off together--an'

accordin' to orders--'ere I am."