Читать книгу Over the Hills - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 8
ОглавлениеIN WHICH I AMAZE MYSELF YET MORE
Master Hosea Bragg was a large man of plethoric habit, a ponderous man in every sense, so that it was ever a marvel to me how one so cumbersome should move so noiselessly, creeping on his large feet so stealthily, drawing latches and opening doors with his great hands so softly that he (as it were) dawned upon ones senses unheralded by any sound—even as now.
"Aha!" he murmured in his gentle, hateful voice as, hiding the pistol in my bosom, I sprang about and faced him, "So I catch my petty rogue idling again, do I—a-wasting of my precious time, eh? 'Tis a lad shall suffer, I fear! A lad shall to the gallows anon, I nothing doubt! Also 'tis a lad shall feel my staff this day, 'tis a rogue lad shall carry sore bones awhile. Ha—go to!" he roared, "is it thus ye rob me o' time and money? Off wi' that jacket and doublet—strip thou small, paltry rogue and snivel not!"
Trembling and mute stood I, staring up at the great red face, the heavy lips, the broad thick nostrils that snuffed and quivered, the baleful glare of these small, close-set eyes that had ever filled me with such loathing and sickening dread; thus fell I to violent tremors that I might nowise hide, and licked and licked at lips grown suddenly dry, beholding which, he smiled and flourished heavy staff.
"Come, strip!" he commanded. "Ha, must I wait? Strip I say!" But instead of obeying, I backed away towards the open casement whereat he sprang after me, striking viciously with his staff, but I eluded the blow, and in that same moment, whipped forth my pistol and levelled it full in his astonished fate. So, for breathless moment, we stood, I trembling but desperately determined, he staring, stricken suddenly aghast.
"Why—why lad—why, Adam——" he mumbled.
"Give me your staff!" said I, reaching out my hand.
"But—but, Adam——"
"Give it me!" says I, and thrust the pistol nearer, whereat he blenched but obeyed, and I tossed the staff out through the window.
"Now—lock the door!" I commanded.
"Nay, lad, nay," he faltered, "what would——"
"Lock the door and bring me the key!"
With his wide gaze fixed upon the pistol, he backed to the door, locked it and handed me the key, which I put in my pocket.
"Master Bragg," said I, forcing the words between quivering lips, though my pistol-hand was steady enough, "Master Bragg, you have treated me like a dog since I was a child.—You have beaten me—starved me—forced me to slavery—so now am I minded to kill you——"
"No, no—for God's sake!" he cried.
"Master Bragg, speak softly—whisper or I shoot."
"Don't shoot me, Adam—for God's sake, don't!" he gasped in hoarse whisper, "I'll never whip thee more, lad—shalt eat what thou wilt—shalt be free o' work Saturdays and Sundays, Adam, only don't shoot!"
"Strange was it to hear this great creature whispering so passionately the while he dabbed at sweating face and neck with clumsy, shaking hands.
"To-day, Master Bragg, I am done with you, but ere I leave ye to the devil I will have the fifty guineas bequeathed me by my lady Masterton."
Answered Master Braggs, staring into the pistol-muzzle.
"So you shall, Adam, ay, ay, but 'twill be robbery, lad!"
"'Tis my money!"
"Ay, but not till art of age, Adam. Come now, put by that murderous thing ere it go off, put it by now like a good, kind, sensible lad and I promise, nay I'll swear to thee——"
"Where is my money?"
"In my desk yonder."
"Get it!"
"But, Adam—but, lad, you' ... never——"
"Get it!"
"'Twill be robbery, Adam, robbery with violence——"
"It will unless you obey!"
"Wouldst murder thy master, lad?"
"With joy unless he give me my money this moment!"
"Ha—villaineous rogue!" he cried in sudden ferocity and, as suddenly, quailed: "Nay now, nay," he whimpered, "never look so bloodily at me, boy. Shalt have thy money—yes, yes. So—there! Take it, Adam, take what ye will, only——"
"Master Bragg, hold your tongue! And I will have gold, count it into the money bag yonder!"
"So, while I stood over him, he counted the fifty guineas into the bag which he tied.
"And now, get up!" said I, dropping the bag into my pocket, "Up with ye and open the cupboard yonder!"
"The cupboard, lad? But why? There be nought there worth your taking—nought there but odds and ends, as you well know."
"Open it! And when you speak remember to whisper!" Fumbling awkwardly he unlocked and drew wide the massy door of the cupboard.
"Lookee, Adam," he whispered, "there's nought here but——"
"Get in! Get you inside!" I commanded.
For a moment he hesitated, and I saw a devil glare at me from his eyes, and feared he would leap at me, and therefore, trembling in my fear, I crept a slow pace nearer to him—nearer yet. All at once he cowered, uttered a strange, inarticulate cry and shrank into the cupboard; then, clapping to the heavy door I locked it secure and leaned against it overcome with sudden weakness. And as I stood there shivering yet wiping sweat from me, I spoke to him through the panel.
"Master Bragg," said I, breathlessly, "if such as you ever pray, thank God now this pistol o' mine is unloaded and hath a broken lock, otherwise, remembering my cruel childhood, I might ha' been tempted to shoot you indeed for the evil man and pestilent brute you are!"
Then, while Master Bragg kicked and uttered muffled roars, I covered my red hair with weather-beaten hat and, climbing through the window, was half way down the village street ere I found that I yet grasped my broken pistol.
